Pleasure Extraordinaire 1 (PURSUIT)

by Liv Bennett

  Your company.

  Another thing I continue to keep after Jack’s death. His construction firm; Edelman Constructions. I couldn’t tell granite from marble, but I promised myself, after Jack’s funeral, that I’d continue his family’s legacy and run the company his father had founded fifteen years ago. But more often than not, it’s the company that keeps me going rather than the other way around.

  “Thank you.” I nod and pace with her toward the elevators. She starts reciting the menu to me as we enter the cab. I half-heartedly listen to her while checking my look in the mirror beside the sliding doors, to make sure my Roberto Cavalli sits right. One of the many ridiculously expensive dresses Jack bought for me. A purple, knee-length, sheath dress with a boat neckline. It shows half of my left shoulder and covers the other one fully. The shopping assistant at the store made me feel guilty about not buying matching shoes and insisted on selling me the most eccentric pair of high-heeled boots I’ve even seen. The cream boots reach a little above my ankles and are covered with large green, blue, and purple stones.

  I run a hand through my hair, which is resting loosely around my shoulders and suck in the fresh floral aroma as we leave the elevator and head toward the suite door. Although the people on the other side of the door in the suite have more reasons to fear me, losing their income being the main, my knees shake as if I’m about to appear in court. I’m sure they expect me to give a motivational speech for the bright future of Edelman Constructions and make a few silly jokes along the line. However, I’ve never been much of an extrovert and have gotten even worse since Jack’s death.

  Jack must be watching me, otherwise, why do I feel so nervous?

  The blonde, whose name I’ve already forgotten, opens the door for me and wishes me a great evening before she leaves. I clear my throat and step inside the suite.

  Among the crowd, my eyes look for the one and only person who can help me out in this hairy situation; my good friend and HR manager, Valerie Holland. With her hot-pink dress and dark-red hair, she’s not difficult to spot.

  I’ll need time to get used to those red curls of hers. I liked her better as a brunette. For some reason unclear to me, she looked friendlier and more approachable with brown hair. Rather than changing her hair color every six months or so, she’d do better to get rid of that pair of thick, black frames hiding her almond-shaped, brown eyes. As a caring friend, I told her so, and even bought a gift card for a complete laser treatment for her eyes in the most regarded eye clinic in L.A. for her last birthday. She’d easily meet a Hollywood celebrity or two on her way to her appointments.

  But, no. The little miss red-hair will keep her glasses no matter what.

  She stands only inches away from Adam Garnett, the project engineer. That’s his title, at least, but he involves himself in every aspect of the company and the projects we take over. He spends most of the time on the construction site to ensure that schedule and quality requirements stay on track, while keeping a keen eye on what’s going on with the staff, and still squeezing clients into his lunch breaks. He’s a one-man show in every sense, and if it wasn’t for his brilliance and commitment, I’d be signing for bankruptcy the minute I stepped outside of the hospital after the accident.

  Adam lets out a hearty laugh at something Valerie says, and I remember Valerie’s rather surprising revelation about her secret crush on Adam, the last time she and I went out to get drunk. That was two months ago, and I wonder if she still has feelings for him.

  Actually, it’s not difficult to fall for Adam. Besides his tall, muscular figure, thick black curls, and intimidating hazel eyes, Adam is a person-magnet. It never ceases to amaze me how easily he can get along with different types of people, ranging from construction workers to CEO’s of multi-million-dollar companies. He’s like a movie star everyone wants to hang out with.

  I’ve watched him enough at work to know that it isn’t just women who fall for his smoldering, bad-boy looks, but he has an enigmatic personality that pulls men, too. And strangely enough, other men don’t look threatened by the way women react to him. I bet he’d make a good subject for a social psychology class, only if the female students could manage to stop drooling and actually analyze him objectively.

  Luckily for me, both Jack’s inner and outer beauty prevented me from having a crush on Adam.

  I close the door rather loudly, turning the heads toward me. Crap!

  “Here she is, finally honoring us with her lovely presence.” Adam moves through the crowd, holding two glasses of champagne. I’ll need both of them to calm my nerves. He sports his usual bad-boy look through and through, despite the perfect and crisp, navy-blue, two-button suit he’s wearing. His thick, long hair is unsuccessfully pulled back with gel, silken dark curls rebelling around his face. His eyes are constantly flaming, his lips curled at one corner hinting at the promiscuous thoughts that must be running wild in his mind. He extends one of the champagne glasses for me, and I take and swallow a large sip. “How are you?” he whispers, drilling his deep-set, intense eyes into me.

  I’ve a sufficient number of reasons for my legs to shake tonight; I can’t deal with his not-so-subtle flirtations on top of them. I ignore his question and proceed toward the middle of the crowd where Valerie stands. She winks at me but says nothing. A few calming words would go a long way.

  I guess the quicker I get the unavoidable opening speech over with, the better it’ll be for all of us. “I’m glad we’re here celebrating yet another successful year with higher profit margins and satisfied clients. And, let’s not forget our new employees.” I raise my glass toward the two ladies in the legal team. I hope they’re already drunk enough to overlook my shaking hands.

  “When Jack died and I took over the company, I thought the right thing to do for the survival of the company was to sell it. After all, as most of you know, I was majoring in Sociology and had no idea about construction. However, you guys proved me wrong, and together we made Edelman Constructions what it is today.” Some nod; some clap hands. “Each of you has left a significant imprint in our company’s success; be it Bree, who skillfully turns down some very persistent insurance agents; David, who manages to deposit the Christmas bonuses exactly on Christmas day, never early enough for us to really buy a Christmas present with it; and Valerie, who is so obsessively fixed on providing training for work ethics and professionalism that I feel a strong urge to download a porn video onto her computer.”

  People laugh and nudge each other. Even the subjects of my little joke. I straighten my face and take another sip, before continuing with my nervous talk. “Together we’ll make Jack’s legacy last for many years and decades to come.”

  The laughter dies into softer smiles at the mentioning of Jack. My eyes wander around to find Jack’s picture that I requested my assistant, Bree, to bring to the party. My beautiful man with the face of baby and heart of an angel.

  “To Jack,” Adam says and toasts his glass with mine.

  Even if no one gave a shit about Jack, Adam would, as Jack’s best friend since childhood. And actually, it’s thanks to Adam that the company is more successful than it’s ever been. Following Jack’s death, I had no one to turn to but Adam to continue where Jack had left with the business. Graciously, he resigned from his highly-paid position in a multi-million-dollar marketing company to work for me. Upon his resignation, his employers convinced him to continue working part-time with the same amount of salary he used to earn working full-time.

  Same amount!

  How impressed they must have been by Adam’s success that they wanted to keep him so desperately. In the end, we made arrangements for him to work half of the week for me and the other half for the other company. Even so, his accomplishments have been more than I’d expected and helped us increase the company’s profit margins.

  “Let the dinner begin,” I announce and motion everyone toward the spectacularly arranged tables with some extraordinary French food. All Bree’s idea.

  As t
he guests start moving toward the tables, my eyes scan the suite for Adam and spot him by the door. He’s crooking his forefinger to me, gesturing me to go to him. I want to thank him in person, anyway, so I move toward him under his intense stare, which makes me extremely self-conscious, as if I’m naked. His eyes are roaming over my body, lingering around my breasts. No amount of clothing will make me feel comfortable around him. I fist a hand on my side and clutch the champagne glass with the other to suppress the urge to cover my chest with my arms.

  “You look particularly delicious in that dress,” he points out, as soon as I stand in front of him.

  Delicious, mouthwatering, mind-blowing, tempting, and so many other inappropriate words of his preference to describe my looks. Where is the good, old pretty?

  Nevertheless, his words burn into my skin and make the hair on my arms and neck stand up. I can barely escape his deep, penetrating eyes that are practically undressing me with each passing second. Were it not for several years of exposure to his blatant advances, and the sacrifices he’s made for the company, I’d have already emptied the contents of my glass onto his face.

  “Thank you,” I say with my voice low. “I wanted to personally thank you for being a part of Edelman Constructions. Don’t tell anyone, but it’s actually because of your hard work that the company is what it is today. You practically saved my life by saving the company, and I owe you a big one for that.” Trying to crack a shy smile, I let my eyes follow the curves of his full lips, then move up to the hazel-fire of his eyes. A big mistake. My stomach twists and turns at the sight of lust brewing in his irises. He stares at me as if he’s restraining himself from smashing his lips onto mine.

  “Is that so?” He leans in, invading my personal space, and whispers to my ear, “Then, why don’t you pay back the favor and go out on a date with me tomorrow night?” His breath is warm and penetrating on my skin, and I shiver at the close proximity of his lips to my ear.

  “Adam, please. Not tonight.” I raise my left hand, my palm close to his chest. I can’t believe how he can be so dead set on getting me into his bed, under the false pretense of wanting to have just a dinner date with me.

  “If not tonight, then when? When will you finally agree to have a simple dinner with me? I won’t initiate anything you aren’t comfortable with. I just want a few hours alone with you outside of work hours. We can order a pizza or go eat at a nice restaurant. Whatever you want.” The rawness in his voice, however, hints at everything but a simple dinner.

  “It… it feels wrong.” I nervously twist my wedding band around my finger. Yeah, I’m still wearing my wedding band. How pathetic of me, and how much more pathetic of Adam to want to have a date with me. This only goes to show he just wants to screw me. “I’m not ready for this.” And I never will be. But, if I tell him that, it might be the end of his commitment to the company.

  He rolls his eyes in a well-practiced manner, as if he was expecting my answer. “Three goddamn years have passed since the accident.”

  As if I’m not aware of that. I drop my head and glare at the stones on my boots. I wish I could take them out and plug them into his mouth to shut him up, because he seems to have a long speech prepared.

  “I want you, Taylor. I’ve never wanted another woman like I want you, and I’m ready to take it as slowly as you want to. But you don’t even let me be a friend; you shut me out completely. What will you lose if you have dinner with me? What you’re doing to yourself isn’t healthy.”

  Healthy? “What do you know about healthy?” I’m so annoyed, I’m ready to leave the celebration and head directly home.

  “A great deal. A lot of people lose their loved ones, but life goes on. Do you think Jack would want you to stay single and lonely for the rest of your life? Look, I don’t want to fight. I just want to take you out tomorrow night. Please, give me that much. I know you don’t feel the same way for me as I feel for you, but let me at least try and show you what may become of us.”

  Us? This is too much. My stomach is so tight with knots, I’ll have to rush to the bathroom to puke if he goes on. Sucking in a desperate breath of air, I take a step back and pull my eyes away from him toward the stage and see Valerie’s brown eyes, wide with shock, staring at me. As soon as our eyes meet, she scoots out of the suite and shuts the door behind her. Oh, shit. The last thing I wanted was her finding out about Adam’s interest in me.

  “Excuse me,” I say and pace toward the table Bree’s sitting. “Bree, can you go and check up on Valerie, please?”

  She pulls her eyebrows together in confusion, but without asking a question, stands up and heads to the door.

  I throw myself at the chair and start massaging my forehead to rub away the looming headache. The party was supposed to honor Jack and celebrate the growth of the company, not to host a cheap soap opera. I vaguely notice the chair beside me is pulled out and look up to see Adam holding it.

  Why am I even surprised? He must have forced Bree into arranging the tables so he can sit with me. Poor Bree. How much more of Adam’s games to get me will she endure? She’s already acting as his personal mailman, bringing me his weekly dinner-date cards with some bullshit romantic words on them.

  As if we didn’t just discuss his plans about my bedroom life, he takes his place nonchalantly next to me, not neglecting to brush his leg against mine as he sits, and nods to the girl sitting across from me. Although plus-ones weren’t invited to the party, Bree brought her friend—with my permission, of course—to fill in the place of another employee who canceled at the last minute. I don’t miss the ecstatic look on the girl’s face as Adam reaches for the menu.

  Yet another evening of being surrounded by women who can’t stop giggling, flaunting, or generally making fools of themselves for Adam.

  “I’m Nichole,” the girl says with a large smile and holds out her hand to Adam, and Adam shakes it briefly and introduces himself.

  “I’m Taylor,” I say when her eyes find mine, but I don’t bother with shaking hands. The three-tiered silver tray of pastries between us is too big an obstacle.

  Grabbing a mushroom-cheese mini-quiche, I inhale its aroma and swallow it with one easy move. Bree’s friend causally slides onto Bree’s seat, which is right next to Adam’s, and begins chatting with him.

  Bree comes back, shooting an angry look at her friend, and leans down to whisper in my ear, “I think Valerie is crying. I heard sobs in the restroom, but I’m not sure if it’s her.”

  I nod and tell her to sit and enjoy the dinner. I don’t want to deal with someone else’s heartache. Valerie is a beautiful, young woman. And smart too. Why the hell is she crying over a man with whom she hasn’t shared anything beyond work duties? Or did she, and I don’t know about it?

  Feeling angry and curious in equal parts, I wipe my lips with the napkin and leave the table, under Adam’s questioning eyes.

  The restroom is well-lit and smells of fresh flowers. I start to check the stalls to locate Valerie, but she materializes from the last one, with her eyes red and wet, and strides to the sinks.

  “What is the matter?” I know what it is, but I want to hear it from her lips.

  She blows into a tissue and walk passes me to the mirrored room. “Like you don’t know what the matter is.”

  “I want to hear it from you. What upset you so badly that you hid in the restroom to cry?” Looking at her reflection in the mirror, I cross my arms over my chest and stand close to her.

  “Is he into you?” She pulls the faucet on and begins washing her hands.

  “Who?”

  She rolls her eyes and snorts. “Is Adam into you?”

  “Yes, he wants to screw me, if that is what ‘into you’ means for you.”

  “It didn’t look to me like he wants just that.”

  “Seriously? I’m one fucked-up woman who sleeps in her dead husband’s pajamas. Every second sentence I speak is about Jack. And, I’m still wearing my wedding band, in case you haven’t noticed already—”
I raise my left hand to show her the ring. “What else can he want from me?”

  She shakes her head, barely hiding a smile. “Since when did you know about it?”

  “Well,” I say, trying to remember the first time Adam asked me out on a date. “I think it was six months after Jack’s death.”

  Her eyes grow large with surprise and she gasps. “That’s more than two fucking years ago.” Abruptly, she turns to face me. I’m forced to take a step back by her closeness. Actually, I’m a little worried she’ll slap me in the face.

  I shrug, although I’m, too, more than a little taken by the lengthy amount of time Adam has been pursuing me. Since then, he hasn’t missed a Friday to ask me out for a dinner for Saturday night. But, of course, I won’t tell her that.

  “And, you were gonna tell this to me… when?” she asks, her chin up, eyes narrowed.

  “I don’t know. The thing is I don’t give a shit about his advances. He loves attention. He loves women. Lots of women. He uses one and moves on to the next. Haven’t you ever heard of his relationship with the famous country singer, Pat Carter? He dumped her after four years of relationship, and she couldn’t keep it together for a long time after him. He’s a playboy. I thought you’d figure it out on your own, without me having to tell you about his interest in me.” I pause and hesitantly put my hand on her shoulder. “You deserve someone better than him.”

  She dries her eyes with tissue; even so, she doesn’t take those damn glasses off. Her eyelids are coated with dark grey eye-shadow. I consider telling her she’d have a better chance with him if she ditched those glasses and considered a new makeup style but I don’t want to be slapped. So, I just squeeze my hand tighter on her shoulder before we leave the restroom.

  “Maybe I just want some senseless fuck,” Valerie says.

  My stomach turns at the thought, and I taste in my mouth the quiche I’ve just eaten. “I don’t want to hear a word about it, then.”

  “A playboy, huh? I’ve never imagined that.”