Chapter 2
As the door to the lobby closed, Deacon exhaled, not even realizing that he’d been holding his breath. Well, he thought to himself as he made his way back to his office, that was awkward.
Opening the door and walking toward his desk, he flopped down in his desk chair.
Time had really done some great things to Sara. She was pretty back then, but now she was even more so. That curly red hair had been a little wild in college, but she’d managed to tame it. It had fallen in soft waves down her back today. Her facial features were a bit more defined. She’d gotten rid of the glasses. That was a shame.
Not that any of that was important now. Taking a moment to run the last half hour through his mind again, he came to a few conclusions that left him feeling slightly uncomfortable.
She acted like she didn’t realize who he was, but he had a feeling that was more about the contract than anything. Putting himself in her shoes, he’d be hard pressed to forget someone acted like that big of a prick after sex. She probably wanted to nail him to the wall by his dick.
From his earlier conversation with Chris, he knew that her business was fairly new. Chris said the food was excellent, but that she wasn’t really doing much advertising. It was almost strictly word of mouth. JDC was planning to use her catering service pretty regularly. Hell, they basically had her on retainer. For a new business, that kind of contract was probably a big deal.
That would also explain why she was amenable to making changes to the document. He fully expected her to say no. She probably agreed so readily so they’d sign the freaking contracts already.
Deacon grimaced slightly. Summing it all up, he had basically boxed her into pretending she didn’t remember how much of a giant asshole he was to her and insinuated himself even further into her presence. All in about fifteen minutes. Excellent work.
The only thing to do at this point was to go and talk to her about it.
Ugh. What would he even say?
With that thought, Deacon settled into the press release he’d left unfinished on his desk previously. Tapping the arrow keys absently, he stared into space, as if trying to pull the words to explain why the Los Angeles Legion’s star running back Lamar Riggs was in trouble with police again for possession. JDC could stay afloat on the mayhem this guy wreaked, alone.
Finding the words, his fingers tapping quickly on the keys, he wrapped up the last of the release and sent it over to his contact at Total Sports News. After setting up a press conference for the next morning, Deacon leaned back in his chair and took a calming breath.
They really needed to stop representing this guy. He was a mess, and didn’t appear to want to change that. It was really becoming a pain in the ass.
At the tap on his door, he raised his voice and said, “C’mon in.”
Chris stood in his door way, looking utterly exhausted.
“So your meeting with Lamar went well, eh?”
Chris mildly flipped him the bird and said, “I am really beginning to fucking hate that guy, Deak. There’s no good way to spin two felony counts of cocaine possession. I told him he needed rehab.”
As if suddenly remembering, “Thanks for meeting with the caterer for me. How did it go?”
Deacon winced and said, “Well. About the caterer. I may have, uh…had sex with her and then never called her again in college.”
With an amused snort, Chris asked, “Did she punch you in the balls?”
Glaring, Deacon said, “Thanks, buddy, but no. She acted like she didn’t know who I was.”
After a short burst of laughter, Chris finally managed to speak again. “That probably stung a bit, right? She didn’t even remember you!”
A little defensive, Deacon said, “Actually, I’m pretty sure she did. I was a little surprised once I recognized her. She picked up on that. I’m sure of it.”
“Well, dude. You totally earned that. Wait, you didn’t chase away the caterer, did you?”
Chris’s face fell.
“Come on. Her company was kind of perfect for us. I’m not gonna have to look for someone else now, right? Go—”
Deacon sighed and said, “Enough, man. I just asked her to make the changes to the contract we discussed, and she’s gonna e-mail it over.”
Laughing gleefully, Chris shook his head. “Good luck with the oversight process, buddy.”
Looking at his watch, then at Chris, he smirked and said, “So, I shot that press release over to TSN and got a press conference scheduled for tomorrow. Now that I’m done doing your job, I’m gonna go ahead and do some CFO stuff now. You know? My job?
For good measure, Deacon followed that up with a snide grin.
Raising his middle finger again, Chris moved toward the door.
“I’ve got a four o’clock anyway. We’re still on for beer after work?”
“After today? Hell yes. Later, man.”
Turning his attention back to the work on his desk, he was able to clear out most of his inbox by 4:45 p.m. Spying an e-mail from Sara, he printed off the updated contract.
After signing, he stuck the document in a folder and decided that there wasn’t going to be any courier service required after all. He’d just stop by and drop it off. It would give him the perfect opportunity to have a conversation with her. They couldn’t just go on pretending that she probably didn’t want to punch him in the throat. Besides, that was the mature thing to do. Communicate like adults.
It freaking sucked being an adult sometimes.
Glancing at the clock, he shut down his computer and gathered his jacket and briefcase. Looking forward to the gym, the whirlpool, and a cold beer, he headed to the door. If there was ever a day for a cold beer, this would be it.
Opening the door to his office and heading out to the front lobby, he called to Chris who was talking to Jim, the third member of JDC, “See you guys later. Gonna hit the gym, then I’ll meet you at Greeley’s, Chris?”
After receiving a salute of acknowledgment from Chris and a wave from Jim, he headed to the elevator and pressed the down arrow.
Stepping into the elevator, he let himself think back to the meeting again. Sara was still hot. Short, curvy, wavy red hair, longer than he remembered. Serious gray eyes. She always seemed to be concentrating on something.
As the door opened, he walked to the parking garage on autopilot and got into his car, still focused on Sara.
Thinking back to that morning during college, he tried to remember the reason he was such a dick. The sex was incredible. She hadn’t been overly cuddly, or crazy. She was actually a cool chick. There had just been something about those eyes that seemed to see right through him. He remembered feeling vaguely uncomfortable about feeling anything at all when he looked at her.
Shaking his head, he realized he’d walked out on her because he’d actually liked her. He didn’t recognize it at the time, but in addition to the phenomenal sex, he had enjoyed being around her in general, too.
Yep, he thought sarcastically, clearly he had needed to nip that shit in the bud. He laughed at himself now. He had been such a dumbass kid. Getting dressed and leaving with a handshake had definitely not been one of his classiest moves.
Then again, he hadn’t really been a very nice person until, well, Chloe. Having to take care of his sister after his Mom had disappeared had changed everything. Being forced to leave school a semester before graduation had made him pretty angry at first. He had managed to make his way out of that shit hole and he hadn’t had any intention of going back.
That frightened call from his thirteen-year-old sister had made him think about something other than himself for the first time in his life. He couldn’t even imagine what his life would be like had he not picked up. That phone call made him the man that he was today.
Shaking his head, as if to dislodge the memory, he thought back to those inquisitive gray eyes. He was dreading the conversation he was going to have to have.
God, he really hoped she had forgotten the w
hole handshake thing.
After a punishing run on the treadmill, a soak in the whirlpool, and a quick shower, Deacon headed back toward his car. Today had been utterly insane. He was looking forward to beer and uncomplicated conversation.
As he pulled into the parking lot of Greeley’s, he spotted Chris’s jag near the back of the parking lot. Walking through the door, he scanned the crowd. He finally spied Chris in deep conversation with a blonde. From the looks of it, he’d probably end up being a third wheel. Having no desire to sit through an awkward evening, he considered his options briefly.
Opting to head home rather than drinking alone at the bar, he was soon settled in front of his television with a beer and some baseball.
About halfway through the fifth inning, he woke with a jerk to the sound of his cell phone ringing. Grabbing the phone and blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw it was his sister. Picking up he mumbled, “H’lo?”
Chloe snickered. “Deak, it’s like eight thirty. Were you asleep already, old man?”
“Bite me. It’s been a hell of a day. What’s up?” Deacon asked as he stretched his kinked neck side to side.
“Don’t suppose you’d want some company? I’m in the neighborhood…” Chloe trailed off.
With a frown he asked, “Isn’t it past your bedtime, kiddo? And wait, don’t you have a class?”
Just then, he heard his intercom buzz. Apparently no class tonight, he thought, getting up off the couch.
“Let me up. I’ve got dinner.”
Hanging up the phone and buzzing her in, he idly hoped it was takeout from that ramen bar down the street. He could totally use something spicy. Eyeing his now flat beer, he poured it out and grabbed another as Chloe walked in the door.
Score, he thought, eyeing the carryout bag in her hand. He went to grab forks and paused when he realized she was staring at him.
“What? I was asleep until like three minutes ago,” he grumbled at her.
“Nothing, bro. You’re just looking a little rough. Bad day?” Though there was a note of teasing in her voice, she scanned his face, waiting for him to spill his guts.
“Nah. Well yeah. Lamar Riggs got himself arrested. Again. I spent the whole day putting out fires. Some days, I feel like a fucking babysitter,” Deacon answered, refusing to even mention the strangest part of his day.
Grabbing one of the forks out of his hand, she waited patiently for him to continue.
He took the bag out of Chloe’s hand and grabbed a container of noodles. Opening it, his lip curled up as he passed her meal to her. Opening the second container, he stabbed a piece of chicken karaage with his fork.
Looking at him somewhat skeptically, she responded, “Um, when is Lamar Riggs not being arrested lately? Don’t see why this time is any different. Is something else going on?”
With a sigh, he put the fork down and said, “Inquisitive brat. I just had a run in with someone from college today that I hadn’t seen in while. It was kind of weird.”
“Weird, how? Wait. Was it a girl?”
Seeing the eager expression on her face, he regretted saying a word. She was gonna badger him until he told her everything. With another heartfelt sigh, he said, “Yes. This girl Sara that I knew in college. We dated briefly, and it ended poorly.”
Snorting, Chloe said, “Dated? That signifies some sort of romantic attachment at least for a brief period of time. Thought you didn’t do much of that in college. Oh. She touched your penis? That was code, right?”
Chloe smirked as he choked on the mouth full of noodles.
“Jesus, kid. Really? You wanna know who’s touched my penis?”
Chloe held up a hand in surrender and grimaced.
“‘Kay, you win. But seriously. If you’re talking about it, it must have bugged you. What’s the story?”
With a pained expression he said, “We hung out once. I was a really big douche bag. Now she’s doing a bunch of catering for JDC so I’m gonna have to see her pretty regularly.”
“Was she a bitch about it? It’s been like twenty years since you graduated college, right?” Chloe questioned innocently.
Mildly flipping her the bird, he said, “Nine, brat. And no, she wasn’t. She was actually pretty nice, considering.”
Blinking at Deacon with confused eyes, Chloe asked, “So what’s the issue then? If she’s cool, then there’s no problem, right? Unless…”
“Unless what?” he asked warily.
“There’s some sort of residual tension there?” Chloe questioned, dancing in her seat gleefully.
“Uh, nope. I have a working relationship with her now. Even if there was, it would be totally inappropriate.”
Eyeing him over the rims of her glasses, she smirked and said, “Yeah, right. You’re a terrible liar.”
“Give me a little bit of credit. I can show restraint when necessary.”
Deacon sounded a lot more confident of that fact than he actually felt. If this afternoon was any indication, restraining himself would be much more easily said than done.
Chapter 3
Sara walked into the entrance of Edible Innovations and gave Elle, her office manager a salute.
“Hi. Thank god today is a slow day. I totally could have slept another four hours.”
Perking up, Elle stared at her expectantly when she remembered yesterday’s meeting.
“Well. How did it go?”
Giving her a follow-me gesture with her hand, Sara replied with a smirk, “Come on into my office. I have, shall we say, a story?”
Elle jumped up out of her seat and said, “Ooh. Intrigue!” as she followed her down the hall.
After Sara sat down in her desk chair, Elle flopped onto the small couch off to the side.
Without any sort of prelude, Sara said, “Turns out I had a one-night stand with the guy I met with yesterday. Chris was in a meeting of some kind so they passed me off to someone else. That someone else? Deacon James. The handshaker.”
Familiar with the story, Elle froze for a moment and then said, “Ohmigod. What did you do? Did he remember you? What did he say? Did we lose the contract? Shit shit shit. What abou—”
“Whoa. Easy. I pretended like I didn’t recognize him. He totally knew who I was and looked really embarrassed for a minute, then followed suit. He told me he would be overseeing the first few jobs instead of Chris, and asked me to update the contract. I don’t think we’ll lose it. I just think the oversight clause got way more awkward for me.”
Elle exhaled, and said, “Wow, Sara. I really don’t know what to say to that. I can’t imagine how awkward the meeting must have been. He didn’t give any indication that he realized who you were other than the guilty face?”
Shaking her head, Sara said, “I pretended like I didn’t recognize him. I think he was just following suit. I really don’t feel like the lobby would’ve been the best place to tackle that issue.”
Laughing now, she continued, “And what would I say? ‘Oh. Hey. What have you been up to since you fucked me silly then just walked out without a word?’“
Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Elle said, “Oh to be a fly on the wall when you get to ask him that question.”
Clicking through her schedule, Sara said, “And on that note, I’m going to go make some crab puffs. Let me know if he faxes a signed contract over, will you?”
Realizing that Sara wasn’t going to say anything else, Elle nodded and left the office with a little wave.
With a sigh, Sara moved toward the kitchen, trying to clear the cobwebs from her sleep-deprived brain. Thankful again for the slow day today, she started to grab the ingredients for the crab puffs.
After about twenty minutes, she was able to go on autopilot and completely zone out. Not thinking about Deacon for the first time since the receptionist said his name was a relief. Examining her feelings, she had already decided she wasn’t really angry about it anymore. Too much time had passed. It still stung a little though.
That had been
the best sex she’d ever had, even to this day. She’d been certain he was right there with her. They had utterly wrecked each other. Feeling a tiny frisson of heat flood her body as she thought back, she immediately shook her head in disgust.
Nope. She would not go down this road. He was hot, but he was going to be a work associate. This was a totally inappropriate line of thought. Inappropriate and totally unprofessional, she amended.
Oh, she remembered, and he was also likely still a dickhead. Recovering from that level of douchebaggery was pretty unlikely. Making the resolution to not think about Deacon naked again, she went back to the crab puffs.
Two hundred and fifty crab puffs later, Sara swiftly moved on to slicing the cured salmon for the blini with dill crème fraiche sauce. Removing the curing salmon from the walk-in, she rinsed the sugar-salt-dill mixture from the fish. Patting it dry, she began to sliver the salmon into bite-sized pieces.
Back in the zone, Sara jumped when she realized Elle had come into the kitchen.
Looking at her expectantly, Sara asked, “What’s up?”
Elle frowned, and said, “No news on contract watch yet, but two things. Tom is going to be here in twenty for the college faculty mixer. Where are you on those?”
“Blinis are ready. Creme fraiche is chilling, and the salmon is being sliced. The crab mixture is ready to go, too. The shells are hollowed out and ready to stuff. There’s no way we can assemble these here ‘cause they’d be all mushy by the time he got to Thousand Oaks. It will all be ready in…fifteen minutes,” Sara said as she surveyed the remaining work and the time. “What was the second thing?”
“Oh. Yeah. It’s 2:45 p.m. You should eat something,” Elle admonished. “You’ve been at this since 9:15 a.m.”
“When I’m done, there’s a sandwich of epic proportions in my future. When have you known me to go hungry?” she asked, gesturing to her curves.
“Pfft. None of that crap. I’m ridiculously jealous. You have curves. I have lumps,” Elle said, sticking out her tongue.
Just a Taste [Private Relations 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 2