by Marilyn Lee
"I haven't got a clue. He was supposed to be here by now." He sat back against his chair, staring at her.
She chewed that over for a minute then said, "In that case, why don't we start?" While he continued to stare at her in silence, she pulled out a laptop and her fingers began flying over the keys. After a few minutes, she turned the screen towards him. "Here's a few preliminary pages we've designed. While they are prelims, I think you'll find that they encompass all the key elements that Mr. Markham mentioned in our conversations.
"We've paid particular attention to ease of navigation as well as a simplified layout that will accomplish your two most important stated goals: enabling customers and potential customers to always know where they are on the site while having the ability to easily and readily submit their requirements online with as little inconvenience to them as possible."
She wanted this meeting to be strictly business while she pretended they'd never stayed up all night making love? he thought angrily. As if they'd never meant anything to each other? Fine. He forced his gaze away from her face and onto the laptop screen. He studied the pages before him for several minutes while consulting his handheld to make sure that all the pages she'd designed met their requirements. They did. Roughly, but then they were prelims.
"So what do you think?"
That he wanted to send her roses, take her to dinner somewhere romantic, then take her home, and spend the night making love to and with her. He looked up at her. He could hardly say that to this woman. This was not the same woman who'd told him she was nearly in love with him. This woman was all business.
"Everything seems to be just as we want it,” he murmured.
"Great." She flashed him a brief, impersonal smile. "Then perhaps you'd like to take a look at the contract we've drawn up."
He inclined his head slightly and she pulled a contract from her briefcase and handed it to him. He read through the document. Everything seemed to be in order—except the price. He looked up at her. "Your fee seems a little excessive for a company who advertises affordability as one of its selling points."
She flashed that cool smile at him. "That is one of our selling points—when we are not working under extreme deadlines, which is not the case here, Mr. Hunter. Mr. Markham indicated that you'd need the designs ASAP, which means we have to put other projects on hold to work on yours. Naturally, under those circumstances, we require additional compensation. Even so, we feel that our services are still very reasonable."
She paused and looked at him. "Of course if you disagree, we would still expect to be paid for the work we've already done, Mr. Hunter."
Troy clenched his jaw. If she called him Mr. Hunter one more time…
He shook his head. "No. You're right. We need the site up as soon as possible."
Angie nodded. "In that case, if you'll look at paragraph 3 of the contract you'll notice we require a 50% deposit at this time with the rest of our fee being due on delivery of the completed and approved website."
He glanced briefly at the contract before looking at her.
She delicately cleared her throat. "The contract is a standard one drawn up by a lawyer. I think you'll find everything in order. Of course, if you want to run it by your own lawyer before you sign—”
He shook his head. He'd spent a year and a half as a paralegal after graduating from college. "That won't be necessary." He signed both copies of the contract and handed one back to her along with a check.
Angie accepted both, anxious to leave. "Thank you.” She forced a smile. “Do you have any questions?"
Oh, he had plenty of questions. Like how could she not feel anything after having made love to him so passionately? But he was not going to give her the satisfaction of behaving in anything less than a businesslike manner. "No."
She put her laptop away and stood up. "In that case, I'll get back to the office and get to work."
He rose too, surprised. "Back to your office? Right now? We haven't ordered yet. We were supposed to have lunch."
"That's not necessary now that we've concluded our business," she said a bit breathlessly.
"Angie, wait a minute—”
For a microsecond, she let down her guard and he found himself looking into the dark eyes he could happily drown in. "It was nice to see you again." Her voice was soft and warm as it had been when she'd called him her sweet Troy.
He took a calming breath, then blew it out. "Angie, we need to talk."
She shook her head, her expression hardening again. "No, we don't. We said everything of a personal nature that we needed to several months ago. This is business, Mr. Hunter."
"I know what this is,” he ground out, “but you can't pretend that we've never meant anything to each other."
"Who's pretending?” Angie asked, a bit exasperated. She sighed. “I told you how I felt and you let me know you didn't share my feelings in no uncertain terms. We went our separate ways with no intention of ever seeing each other again. End of story."
He heard the undercurrent of pain in her voice and winced. "Angie, you're jumping to conclusions. You don't know how I feel."
"And you know what, Mr. Hunter? How you feel or felt is totally irrelevant. We have nothing else to say to each other.” She hesitated. “Goodbye," she said quietly.
Feeling as if he were making yet another mistake, Troy watched her walk away. He sank back in his seat, aware that his hands shook. Damn her! He glanced around for the waiter and lifted his hand.
"Sir? Are you ready to order?"
"I need a drink. Gin and tonic."
"Would you like to order your meal now?"
He turned to look up at the waiter. He had to pause and take a breath to keep from snapping at the man. "I want the drink I just ordered. I'll let you know when I want something else."
"Yes sir."
When the waiter placed the drink in front of him, he picked it up. He had it halfway to his mouth before he slammed it down on the table hard enough to make the drink spill out of the glass. He hadn't had a drink since he'd been pulled over for suspicion of DUI five years earlier after attending Rick's thirty-third birthday party. Although he'd passed the sobriety test, the experience had been so unpleasant that he'd decided that he didn't need or want to drink anymore.
Damn if he was going to let her drive him to drink. He waved the waiter over.
"Sir?"
"Take this drink away and bring me another tonic water and a porterhouse with steak fries."
"Anything else, sir?"
His cell phone rang. "No. Thank you." He answered the phone. "Yes?"
"Troy, listen. I'm stuck in a traffic jam you wouldn't believe. I tried to reach Web Designs For You by phone, but the secretary said neither partner was there. Can you handle the meeting with Angela Hunter?"
"I have handled the meeting with her. She showed me the preliminary site. It looked great. I signed the contract and gave her a deposit. Meeting adjourned."
"Ah…okay. You want to tell me what's wrong?"
His jaw clenched. "Nothing's wrong."
"Hey, Troy, I can hear that something's wrong. What is it?"
"Nothing."
Rick sighed. "Okay. Where are you?"
"At Danni's."
"Great. Let me have a word with Angela."
"I said the meeting already adjourned. She left."
"Already? Troy, it's only twenty after. What did you two do, inhale your meal?"
"She left without eating."
"Why?"
"I assume because she wanted to get started right away. Now if you don't mind, here comes my steak. I'll see you when I get back to the office."
"Okay, but I'm going to want to know what's wrong when I see you."
"Nothing's wrong," he growled, then cut the connection. He hesitated, consulted his handheld, and then made a quick call.
Chapter Nine
Angie's heart was beating so hard and fast that she could barely breathe. Tears stung her eyes as she forced herself to
walk away from Troy. She kept her composure until she made it to the ladies' room. Once there, she locked herself inside the first available stall, leaned her forehead against the door, and let the tears spill down her cheeks.
She allowed herself a few minutes to sob silently. Then she shook her head, wiped her cheeks, and pulled herself together. Leaving the stall, she washed her face and reapplied her makeup. The temptation to glance into the main dining room to see if Troy was still there was huge. She ignored it and quickly left.
She didn't doubt for a moment that he'd be willing to pursue a purely sexual relationship with her if she allowed it. But she needed more. And she wasn't going to settle for less than she deserved, even if every part of her body cried out for him. Even if her treacherous heart wanted to accept whatever crumbs of attention he might be willing to toss her way.
The fact that Frank had sought her out without having slept with her was proof that she'd been selling herself short. Okay, so she wasn't a size ten and she wasn't a beauty. Neither failing had been sufficient enough to stop Frank from asking her out several times. For that matter, Troy had been taken enough with her just as she was to be jealous of her having a platonic breakfast with Frank.
Corrie was right. It was time she got back into circulation. The next time a man asked her out, she wouldn't refuse just so she could sit at home and reminiscence about the lovely nights she'd spent in Troy's arms. Those nights with Troy had been a sweet fantasy come true, but now it was time to get back to reality.
The first order of business was getting Troy out of her system. Unfortunately, she'd found that was easier said than done. Still it had to be done.
Angie straightened her shoulders. She would do it.
* * * * *
Angie stopped at the bank to deposit the check Troy had given her before heading back to work. The office she shared with Corrie was located in the basement of the two-storied, three-bedroom twin house where she and Dan had moved just three months before his death.
"Jen, I'm back," she called out as she passed the small space where their secretary sat just outside the area where she and Corrie worked. "Where's Corrie?"
"She headed out for a late lunch, Ange. But she took her laptop with her, so she may not come back into the office today."
Angie nodded. "Okay. I'm going to get to work on the Hunter-Markham account. I don't want to be disturbed unless it's really important."
"Gotcha."
She slipped out of her heels and jacket. She poured herself a cup of coffee and settled down to work. An hour later, she sat in front of her computer, having accomplished absolutely nothing. She couldn't stop thinking about Troy. To see him after so many months and to feel all the desire and need overwhelm her again was disheartening. Was she ever going to not want him?
"Hellooo."
Startled, she turned to find Jen standing less than two feet away from her. "Oh. Sorry. I…I was engrossed in my…who are the flowers for?"
Grinning, Jen extended the huge bouquet of roses she held. "Aren't they lovely?"
"They sure are. Whose world have you been rocking?"
Jen grimaced. "Don't I wish. They're for you."
Angie pointed toward herself. "Me?"
Jen nodded and put the flowers on the desk near her computer. "Well, aren't you going to read the card?"
She stared at the flowers, biting her lip. Could they possibly be from Troy? No, that wasn't likely. Maybe they were from Frank. She couldn't imagine anyone else sending her flowers. Certainly not red roses. Then again, Troy had sent her red roses on the cruise.
"Go on, Ange. I'm about to die of curiosity."
"O-Okay," she said a bit hesitantly. She pulled the card from the middle of the roses. The breath caught in the back of her throat and her eyes filled with tears as she read the card.
Angie,
We have to talk. I need to see you.
Troy
"So? Who sent them?"
She blinked away tears and turned back to her computer. "Troy Hunter."
"Oh." Jen sounded disappointed, not realizing they had more of a history than having met only once earlier today. "So what…he just wanted to thank you in advance or something?” She shrugged. “Oh. Well, back to work."
Now there was an idea, Angie thought. She could actually do some work instead of daydreaming. She took a deep breath and forced herself to begin working. She could think about Troy later. When she lay sleepless in bed.
"Are you all right?"
Angie nodded and forced a smile. "I'm fine, Jen. Just a little tired."
"Can I get you a cup of coffee?"
She shook her head. "No. I'm fine. Really. But thanks."
* * * * *
"Are you going to tell me about her or not?"
Troy ran a hand through his hair and reluctantly turned to face Rick, who sat in the chair in front of his desk. "No."
"Will you at least admit that she's the same woman you've been eating your heart out for since the cruise?"
He frowned. He wasn't sure how Rick had determined that Angela Harding and his Angie from the cruise were the same woman. But he didn't want to talk about her. And if Rick dared to imply she was a bimbo, he was going to be picking himself up off the floor in short order. "I'm not admitting anything except that we both should be working instead of talking about my personal life."
"The thing is, Troy, you don't really have a personal life anymore. For a while there, I thought you might be getting serious with Julie, but now she's history. She is history, isn't she?"
He nodded slowly, surprised that he felt no particular regret for his failed relationship with Julie. Having seen Angie again, he knew that Julie could never have meant anything to him. "Yes. It's over."
"And I'll bet that doesn't bother you."
"You'd rather my heart was broken?"
"There wasn't much chance of her breaking your heart. How could she when another woman already had your heart?"
About to take issue with Rick's statement, he shrugged instead. Why bother? If Rick wanted to think he was in love with her, so be it.
"You know, Troy, I think maybe you need to think about settling down."
He silently groaned. He didn't want to settle down just yet. Maybe. But when he did, he couldn't imagine being happy with anyone other than Angie. Only now he was no longer sure she was interested in him.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't recall asking for your advice Rick, and I don't want it. Okay? Do me a favor and stay out of my personal life."
"Get one and I'll be glad to stay out of it!" Rick shot back.
"Will you give it a rest?" he grumbled.
"Okay, Troy, but at the rate you're going, you're going to be useless as a partner. "
He slammed a clenched fist down on his desk. "I'll hold up my end of the deal. Just stay out of my personal life!"
* * * * *
"I don't understand why you're not dating, Angie. I know you're busy trying to get your business off to a good start, but you shouldn't ignore your personal needs in the process."
Angie stared at her reflection in the vanity mirror as she talked to her mother on the telephone. Her mother and father saw her through the eyes of doting parents. Both thought she had to fight the men off. And this despite the fact that she could count the number of dates she'd had in the last year on one hand. They had blinders on big time.
"Mom, I don't have much time for dating," she began, paused, took a deep breath, and spoke quickly. "Actually, Mom, I met a man on a cruise I took several months ago and—”
"He must be special. I can hear it in your voice that he's special.” She smiled. “So tell me about him."
She could imagine her parents' reaction if they ever learned how she'd behaved on that cruise. "He…I really did like him, but I haven't seen him since then.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged, hoping the gesture looked casual. “He didn't share my feelings."
"He didn't?" Her mother sou
nded shocked.
She looked over at the flesh colored object on her nightstand. "But it's all right, Mom."
"How can it be all right if you're in love with a man who doesn't love you?"
She swallowed several times. "Mom, don't worry about me. When the time is right, I'll meet someone who shares my feelings." Until then, she had her toy.
"Are you dating?"
Angie sighed. "Not at the moment, but when I have more time, I will. Listen, it's late and I have a busy day tomorrow, so I'm going to hit the sack. Tell Dad I love him and I love you too, Mom."
"We love you too, Ange. Good night, darling."
"Night, Mom."
She hung up the phone, took off her sheer nightgown, turned down her bedroom light, and crawled into bed. She reached over and picked up the flesh colored penis from her nightstand. Breathing deeply, she covered the thick length with oil and turned it on low. Parting her thighs, she lay back and drew the soft rod slowly along the length of her slit several times.
"Hmm." Now that felt nice. Nowhere near as nice as the real thing, but it would do until she could do better. Sighing, she applied the buzzing head to the lips of her vagina.
She touched her breasts as she lightly ran the soft, jelly-like penis up and down the lips of her pussy. She started to feel warmth inside of her. Nice indeed. She adjusted the vibrations to medium and touched the tip to her clit. A jolt of pleasure resulted. She gasped.
Closing her eyes, she plunged the shaft into her pussy. Oh. Nice. She turned over onto her stomach with the penis still inside of her and began thrusting herself down on the vibrating, twisting shaft. Each time she felt the vibrator sink into her cunt, she moaned and pretended she was lying on top of Troy, fucking herself on his cock.
After several minutes of mindless gyrating and thrusting down on the wildly twirling shaft, her cunt clenched and pulsed, her stomach muscles tightened, and she came.
Sighing softly, she pulled the shaft from her saturated tunnel and tossed it into her nightstand drawer. She'd thoroughly clean it tomorrow. Now she just wanted to sleep. She turned off the lights and curled up with a pillow clutched against her chest. The ache in her was body satisfied, but the one in her heart remained unappeased. To ease that, she needed a man named Troy.