by Danielle Monsch, Cate Rowan, Jennifer Lewis, Jeannie Lin, Nadia Lee, Dee Carney
The room narrowed to one crucial point, to the lure of his brown eyes. She didn’t know when he maneuvered them off the dance floor. There was only the feel of him, the taste of him, bombarding her senses and sending her nerves rioting. He moved his hands from her waist, holding her tight, pulling her close. A question arose in the way he touched her, in the tentative brushes. Lost in sensation, Elle nodded her approval. Neither needed to speak.
His touch crept to her breast, covering the tight tip of her nipple. She couldn’t help her nature and scanned the room before allowing herself to enjoy his hold. With his back to the throng of people, his body shrouding hers, anyone not standing right next to them would be hard pressed to witness their actions. And for that she was very, very glad.
Elle opened her mouth wider, stroking her tongue against his. Between her thighs was damp again and as if he’d read her mind, the same hand which jealously learned her breast moved lower. “If you’re going to stop me, stop me now,” he murmured against her lips. That wicked hand gripped the hem of her dress.
A brief hesitation, and she widened her stance.
He caught her first moan with a kiss. The delicate brush of his finger on her clit was an explosion of pleasure. He’d pushed inside her panties with an expert’s precision, finding where she needed his attention. Shuddering, Elle gripped his arms, drowned in his eyes, in his handling of her body, in the knowledge she shouldn’t be doing this…
Eyes widening, she breathed out roughly, trying to tell him how close, how very close he pushed her to the ledge. She gasped. Exhaled. The moan on its heels rumbled through her chest.
Mouth parted, Elle closed her eyes, her entire body stiffening and under the playful control of her mysterious lover. Sent to the heavens and held there. Suspended while the world around them went on ignorant of how she became lost in his skill.
“Beautiful,” he whispered against her ear and she barely heard the word for the pounding of her heart. Idly she realized he rearranged her clothes when she stopped trembling, bringing her back to some semblance of decency after their carnal actions. Her beleaguered heart labored on. “But it doesn’t have to end like this…”
Elle pulled away, needing a moment to breathe. A second to get her mind wrapped around the night. What did it all mean for tomorrow? Could there be more? She knew what she wanted. But what about him?
A bell began to ring and she looked toward the sound coming from the speakers. A smile blossomed later as the band began some sort of medley to match it, signaling the slide toward the midnight hour. Sixty minutes had gone by too quickly and she needed another. Yes. Just one more hour. One night out of the year, she deserved some time for herself.
“Hey…” She turned back to him, the smile fading when she caught the seriousness on his face. There was no cheer there, just a thinning of his lips. A somberness she hadn’t seen all evening.
“Elle—”
“Elle! There you are!” One ringing bell became two as she found Thomas hurrying toward them. “I’ve been looking for you.” He sounded out of breath. “Don’t know what you said to Champ Reece, but he’s got his team in one spot. They want to meet you and hear about the new line.”
“Now?” Elle glanced at her date. His expression had softened, and she didn’t know what that meant.
The bells began to chime louder now, their melody almost church-like in intonation. “I have to go,” he said softly, mouthing the words toward her as if he didn’t want Thomas to overhear.
“Wait…no.” Her heart thumped, a signal for her to do something. Anything. This couldn’t end. Not like this.
“Elle,” Thomas said impatiently. “They’re waiting on us.”
“Wait,” she called, but the younger man was already moving away. He turned his face toward her, and the gentle smile given to her set some of her nerves to rest. But he was leaving, and that hurt so very much. She didn’t know him, but she needed him to stay. She clasped onto his retreating arm, fingers sliding down over expensive fabric until they brushed against something hard and sharp. Wincing at the contact, she didn’t allow her to gaze to follow the button or whatever item arcing into the air and then landing near his feet with a soft plink.
“Good night,” he mouthed.
She watched his lips form the words, none of the sound carrying to her. The bells were ringing too loudly now, each one clamoring on top of the last. It filled the room, the chimes vibrating through her insides.
She wanted to call out to him again. Wanted to ask him to stay. To talk to her again. To dance with her. To make her laugh.
To tell her his name.
Elle swallowed through a dry throat, the one that wouldn’t work. No longer under her command. Instead of struggling though, she watched him leave, letting the emotion he’d stirred to life in her slowly begin to settle. By the time she took the first step in Thomas’s direction, she’d almost managed to wrestle it back under control. Nice and contained like it used to be. Maybe not quite the same, but good enough.
Tonight had been a dream. A wonderful, bittersweet dream.
And the last of the bells chimed.
Chapter Eight
‡
And they lived…oh wait. Get to the end to find out.
Almost a week after the Christmas party and the office was still buzzing about the extravagance of the food and the decor. The music the band had generated could be heard hummed on occasion, despite the holiday season winding down. Emails were exchanged extolling the people responsible for putting together such a show-stopping party. Everyone appeared to have had a phenomenal time.
Elle smiled every time someone mentioned the great party or asked if she’d seen so and so in such an amazing dress. She fought down the impulse to bitterly complain about life’s injustices. She clenched her teeth so tightly her jaw hurt whenever someone whispered about the hookups that were rumored to have occurred. Always she changed the topic. Always.
She’d never even gotten his damned name.
Now, as she sat in one of the never-ending meetings that filled most of her days, she fingered the small cuff link she’d accidentally torn from his sleeve as he’d been departing. Her nail traced the etching in repeating patterns, following the swirling loops over and over. NA. What did the letters stand for? People around her talked about the upcoming trip to Italy, while Elle ran through potential names. Nate. Neil. Nick… The possibilities were endless; none of them would allow her to locate him easily.
With every trace through the letters, she felt his lips on hers and the scruff of his jaw scraping her delicate skin. She heard his rough breathing as they danced, their bodies coming together and separating. The sharp aroma of his cologne filled her senses until Elle had to physically shake away the memory.
To hell with this.
Elle stood abruptly, licking her lips before addressing the four people who’d turned their attention to her. “If you’ll excuse me.”
She said nothing more as she took brisk steps out of the conference room and headed toward the elevator. What more could she say? Please excuse me as I put a stop to the agitation keeping me up at night? Please forgive me as I leave to find the man who haunts my every waking moment because for a couple of hours he’d managed to put some life back into the dreariness I’d living?
Heels clicking against the tiles in rapid-fire staccato encouraged people to shift out of her way as she barreled down the hallway. One glossy pink fingernail tapped with agitation first on the down button and a few seconds later, on the button which would make the elevator take her to the fourteenth floor. When she stepped off, heart racing, she paused. It took a few deep exhales and slight tugging on the vintage Chanel skirt to settle fraying nerves. Those extra seconds allowed her to gather her necessary bearings.
Following signs, she walked the hallway until forced to turn right into a lonely corridor where hardly anyone seemed to need to be. All of the doors were closed, helpful placards letting visitors know what type of people could be found b
eyond nondescript doors. Security. Quality Assurance. Information Technology.
She turned the knob of the door leading to the latter department and stepped inside, almost running smack dab into a cubicle covered in beige felt-like material. “Hello?” Peering around the corner, she dared take a few more steps into the beginnings of a cubicle maze.
A tuft of curly brown hair popped up over the top ledge of a cubie wall. “May I help you?”
“Hi,” she said, walking toward the sound, eyes on the curls that began to descend as if on an escalator. “I’m hoping you can help me locate an employee.”
The man seated at the desk looked around forty, wearing a simple Oxford shirt and pleated blue pants. He was plain except for a few pimples sprouting near his temple. On anyone else she might not have noticed, but at his age, it was an oddity that stuck out. “Shouldn’t you go to HR for that?” he asked.
She’d already done that logic and decided against it. “Well, that’s part of the problem. I don’t know his name.”
“So you came to IT for help?” He blinked rapidly, his confusion evident.
“Right. Well, I had a thought about that.” Elle moved in closer. “I have his initials and I was hoping you had some sort of search algorithm that would allow you to put them into a database or something and then look at the results. That’s plausible, right?”
He frowned. “Sorry, but no. We don’t have any such thing.”
Her stomach began to knot, the tension she’d been feeling over the last week settling there like a weight. With each passing day, her hope of finding him diminished. She’d hoped he would have sought her out the first day back at work. A surprise knock on the door, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Yes, it was a bit of wishful thinking, but with the way the magical night had gone, it didn’t seem so impossible. Now though…
“Okay, thanks,” she said softly, dejection almost dripping from the words. She’d tried.
“Wait…”
Elle looked up.
“You said you have some initials?”
She nodded. “Yes. N and A. First and last initials, I assume.”
The man studied her face before his gaze dropped to the suit and then back up. It wasn’t a sexual leer, but as if he tried to decide about something. “And who are you?”
Elle gave him her name and position within the company. “You can call my assistant, if you’d like. She’ll tell you who I am too.”
“Well, Ms. Flint. I have a thought. Not sure if it’ll work though.
“Anything. I’m desperate.”
“Your email address is e-f-l-i-n-t at tholmes, right?”
“Yes.” What did her email address have to do with anything? The standard email address for all employees was the first initial followed by their last name.
“So, from that I know that your initials are EF. What if you did it backwards, you know? What if you went through the company email directory and sorted by name?”
It made sense now. Suddenly and clearly made absolute sense. “Oh my God. Then I could find all of the people whose email addys started with NA.” She smiled broadly. “Sweetheart, if it works, I’m coming back here and demanding a paid day off for you. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself!”
He grinned. “Wanna try from here?”
*
Surprisingly, there were only six names in the directory that matched. And Outlook had the decency to list each respective department for the small group of people. Her mood only deflated a little when Nancy Alexander, a petite elderly woman, proved to hold the first position on the list. Giddy, Elle took off in a hurry to track down the second name.
Nicholas Adams, a stunning black male in his early twenties, made her mood sink a little bit lower.
On the twelfth floor, she went into the accounts payable department trying to keep her hope from getting out of control, yet not allowing the previous two disappointing results to make her glum. She flashed back to the little bit of happiness she’d discovered that night, to the way she’d been able to just let go and have fun. This search would be worth it in the end.
“Excuse me,” she said to the assistant whose desk performed sentinel duty just inside the doorway. “Can you direct me to Neil Arlington?”
A beautiful red lipsticked smile bloomed on her face. There was a bit on her front tooth, but the tiny flaw added to her little girl image. The pigtails poking out from either side of her head helped it along. Big blue eyes were made for batting eyelashes. The girl was cute. “Sorry, hon, but he’s on vacay until the second week of January. Can someone else help you?”
Elle’s heart skipped. Could that be why she hadn’t heard from him? Mystery man was on vacation, and that’s why he hadn’t sought her out. She didn’t know whether to laugh with excitement or cry with relief. Until now, finding him hadn’t seemed that important. But this close, knowing she was only a couple weeks away from seeing him again, she couldn’t help the elation filling her. “No,” she said, voice trembling. “No, I’ll wait until he gets back. I’ll get in touch with him later. I’ll…Wow. I’ll send him an email. Thank you.”
“Lucky dog went to the Caribbean with his family, so he’ll be in a great mood when he returns,” the assistant said. She visually dismissed Elle, returning to a stack of papers in front of her.
“Wait…what?” Elle went still, replaying what the woman had just said. “He did what?”
“Two weeks with the wife and kids.”
All of the air escaped out of her lungs as blood drained from Elle’s face. Had he been wearing a wedding band? She couldn’t remember. What about a tan line across his finger, the damning evidence of a ring hidden in a top pocket instead of where it belonged. Could she recall seeing something like that? “D-does he have brown eyes?”
The woman looked up. “Huh?”
“Neil. Are his eyes brown?”
“You know, I’ve never really paid attention.” The woman’s brow furrowed. “But yeah, I guess. Brown, yeah.”
There were additional names on the list. This didn’t mean anything. It didn’t prove anything. Not when she’d hung so many hopes that this man would be able to help her rediscover herself. To go back to the way she’d been for such a short time. An achingly short time.
“Did you want me to let him know you’d stopped by?”
Pulled from her thoughts, Elle shook her head. “I’ll send an email.” He’d respond or he wouldn’t. In the meanwhile, she’d find the other people on the list. It would give her something else to do. It might be a little cruel to her self-esteem, but there was still a chance Neil wasn’t the person she sought. “Thanks for your help.”
Those big blue eyes narrowed with concern. “You all right?”
“I will be—”
“Elle?”
That voice.
Elle turned, her heart thumping so, so hard. She knew that voice. It had whispered to her as she danced. It made her laugh and at times, laughed with her. It tugged at something inside her. Even now. And that face…
“Hi,” she said softly. What else was left to say? How to tell him that she’d come looking for him?
His cheeks pushed up as a wry smile split his lips. “What are you doing here?”
“Me? I work here. What are you doing here?”
“I work here too.” He took a single step forward but paused, as if unsure of himself. “I mean, not in this department. I’m just dropping off some interoffice mail routed to me by accident, but I never thought—”
“So you really do work for this company?”
“Of course I do. I didn’t lie to you that night. About anything.”
Suddenly she felt foolish. Stupid that she’d turned so many unearned feelings over to this man because he’d made her feel lighthearted for a short time. Idiotic that she’d come searching him out like some lovesick adolescent. Whatever hold he’d had on her fizzled in the light of reality. That night had been some sort of dream and the dream didn’t push into the land of here and n
ow.
“Well, I’m glad I ran into you,” she said, steeling her spine and voice. “You dropped a cuff link and I wanted to return it.” Elle held out her hand despite the way she wanted to curl her fingers around the little piece of metal. Over the past few days, it had become a cherished reminder. Giving it up wouldn’t be easy. Hell, she almost didn’t realize she’d been holding it all this time during her search.
He shook his head, moving forward until they almost touched. Almost. Her stomach tightened, her mind flooding her with decadent memories. She shouldn’t be feeling this way, not about him. Not when he could simply walk away like that.
“Don’t you understand?” he asked, ignoring the cuff link. “I didn’t lie about any of it. I am one of your admirers, more so now than before the night we danced. So much so, in fact, I did this…”
Elle followed the motion of him digging into the pocket of the blazer he wore, using the moment to also study his clothing which was decidedly not designer. Not vintage. Not even chic. He wore a Polo shirt tucked into well-tailored khakis. The dark blue blazer over the light blue cotton should have clashed, but on him, seemed right. Yet, there was something very…working class about it. That didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would.
Those captivating eyes of his studied her with an endearing shyness when he withdrew a small envelope and held it out. She took it, unable to continue to stare at his eyes or lips, knowing her memories would take her places she didn’t want to be. Couldn’t be.
But when she read the contents of the simple note, all of her built-up stoicism melted.
My name is Noah Ashe. Thank you for a wonderful night. Please, can we have another? Call me.
“Why didn’t you give this to me?” She wanted to ask why he’d made her wait, choosing instead the lesser road.
“After the incredible time we had together, I doubted this would work. Cheesiness defined, right? Every day I tried to come up with some other way to make it special but not overblown. And every day would pass, and I still hadn’t given it to you. I don’t really have an excuse other than cowardice.”