Unlocking Love

by Anya Sharpe

  Inserting the key, I push open the door and step inside as it shuts quietly behind me. Low lights cast a pale golden glow in the center of the dark room. He walks straight toward me, stopping several feet away. Shadows mask him, but I can tell he’s tall. He’s in another sleek black suit.

  I’m not afraid. He isn’t threatening. In fact, I’m calm. Soothed. Embraced. I can almost hear his heart beating which, in turn, makes my pulse race.

  The man steps closer. The details of his face are still elusive and shadowed, but I sense he’s smiling at me.

  He reaches out to me. A rose. A red rose.

  “For me?” I whisper.

  “Yes.”

  I bring the flower to my nose and inhale the strong, intoxicating perfume.

  The door behind me closes again, startling me, so I spin around.

  “What have you done?”

  Derrick stands in front of me, illuminated by a candle he’s holding.

  Why is he here?

  I spin around, and the man who gave me the rose is walking away, almost out of sight. I want to call to him. To tell him to wait, but I cannot speak. I turn back to Derrick. He is gone, too. The candle extinguished and forgotten, lays on the ground.

  My hands are wet and sticky. The rose stem is covered with dozens of thorns, and each of my fingers is bleeding. Blood drips onto the floor, over the candle and the puddle of wax. The rose has shriveled and turned black.

  Gasping, I drop it and look up again.

  The scene has changed. I’m now in the room with the round bed covered in black satin. Derrick is stripped to the waist, barefoot and unsmiling, a garish, bright light trained on him. The effect paints an eerie glow on his pale skin.

  “You shouldn’t have come here. There’s nothing for you. Go.”

  “I don’t understand.” The words echo, bouncing off the walls and surrounding me like demons. The room spins and spins.

  Dizzy, I collapse to my knees. All I can do is release the pain in huge sobs.

  Strong hands bring me to my feet. Muscled arms press my weakened body against a solid chest. I’m lifted into the air and cradled securely. The mysterious man moves through the darkness, into a low light, and sets me down on a fluffy, white bed. It’s like being embraced by a cloud.

  The man cups my hand in his, and places one key in the palm.

  It has a four on it.

  “Use this when you are ready. This is the only key you need now.”

  The screeching alarm makes my head pound. After smacking it silent, I sit up and listen to the quiet of the apartment. My hand trails over the side of the bed that hasn’t been slept in for weeks.

  A deep sadness takes hold of my heart and squeezes hard.

  I don’t cry.

  For the first time, I can’t find tears.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Evan

  The whiskey burns my throat. I yank until I loosen the bowtie strangling me then belt down the rest of the amber liquid. It still burns.

  No matter how much I drink, I’m still a fucking idiot of epic proportions.

  I kissed her.

  I actually kissed her.

  The darkened city is laid out below me and I stare down at it, unable to let go of what happened.

  So fucking stupid. How the hell am I going to make this right?

  I have no damned idea.

  ****

  “The largest, strongest, hottest coffee you have. Cream only.” I’m rude to the waitress, but don’t give a fuck. I need caffeine. Five minutes ago. Some more of the whiskey I drank last night would be good, too. I feel like shit.

  “You look like shit, too,” Lance offers.

  “Did I say that out loud?”

  “You sure did.” He rubs a hand over his day-old stubble, adjusts the bill of his baseball cap and pins me with a stare. “Well, how was the not-a-date?”

  I groan. The coffee arrives, thankfully, and I suck down a huge gulp, not caring that I probably seared all the taste buds off my tongue in the process. Maybe the memory of her mouth and tongue on mine will get burned away, too. Not likely, though. I groan again.

  “Did you invite me to coffee to listen to you growl at your java? Because I have better things to do on a Sunday.”

  “Fuck you, Lance.”

  “Sounds like the not-a-date didn’t go well.”

  “Fuck you, Lance.”

  He laughs at me, the dick. Why did I think coffee with Lance was a good idea?

  “Okay, what happened?”

  “I want to smack the smirk off your face.”

  He laughs again. “This is going to be one helluva story, isn’t it?”

  I gulp down more coffee. “It went really well, actually.” I take a smaller sip since the java jolt seems to be working.

  “That’s it? That’s what’s got you in such a foul mood? ‘We had a lovely time, Lance.’ ”

  “Quit mocking me, you bastard.” I stir my half-full cup to keep my hands busy. “Yes, it was ‘lovely.’ Especially the part where I kissed the hell out of her.”

  Lance chokes on his coffee. I can’t make eye contact with my best friend, because I am busy cringing at my admission and the fact he’s going to go ape-shit on me in five, four, three, two…

  “You what? Are you out of your fucking mind, Giamatti?”

  …One, blast-off.

  “The woman recently found out her husband cheated on her, complete with some big-ass nasty secrets. She only filed for divorce last week. She’s an emotional wreck. You can’t go inserting yourself and your disgusting tongue into her life, for fuck’s sake. What’s wrong with you, man?”

  “Are you going to punch me?” I deserve to be hit.

  “Believe me, nothing would make me happier.” Lance is looking at me like I climbed out from under a slimy rock on my belly. Perhaps I did.

  “Oh, hell, Lance. It just happened. Honest. She stepped on her dress and started to fall, so I caught her. Before I knew what was happening…” I run my hands through my hair.

  “So, Prince Charming, now what? How will you fix this mess? You do remember you have to work with her—very closely?”

  “Thanks for the reminder, pal.” I finish what’s left of the coffee and signal for another. “What the hell should I do?” The question is directed at myself, not Lance.

  Exasperated with me, Lance rolls his eyes up toward the ceiling. “Give me everything.”

  “What?” Miserable, I peer up at him.

  “Are you in love with her or something?”

  “I don’t know.” I’m unable to meet his stare. “Maybe a little. I can’t say I’m devastated she filed for a divorce from Dickhead.”

  “Jesus. Nice mess, Ev. You outdid yourself this time.”

  “Thanks.”

  ****

  I decide to take Erynne’s advice and forget what happened. Get back to normal. Play it cool. Keep my distance. Don’t bring up the kiss unless she does.

  Yeah, that spectacular plan is flushed right down the toilet at Monday morning’s staff meeting. Every single day, Erynne sits next to me. Today, she ditches me for the far end of the long conference room table, on the opposite side, and refuses to acknowledge my existence.

  Next to her, Maya chats up a storm while Erynne writes God knows what on a pad of paper, nodding her head. It reminds me of my first day at Ridley & Peters. Only far more awkward. Plus, I didn’t feel like a creepy dick then.

  Whoa. This is not gonna be easy.

  We’ve got a lot of work to do together. How uncomfortable will this be?

  For now, I’ll leave the ball in her court, and see how she handles things.

  It doesn’t take long to figure out Erynne’s plan—because her plan walks right into my office carrying a stack of files and a scowl.

  “What the hell happened between you two?” Maya slaps the pile down onto the table.

  “What do you mean?” I’m fishing. So, sue me.

  “You know exactly what I mean. Erynne avoided you li
ke the plague during the meeting. Then says she doesn’t feel well, can I come help you with these accounts.” Maya’s staring a hole into my head. “Bullshit.”

  Fantastic.

  “I’ll go talk to her. Maybe she’s upset about Derrick or something.” Fat chance.

  “Once again, bullshit. Something else is going on and you’d better fix it. Fast. Erynne’s dealing with enough crap from one guy already. Don’t pile on or I’ll make your life miserable.”

  I get one last death-glare before Maya spins on her heels and stomps out of my office, slamming the door so hard the pictures rattle, making me wince.

  “Oh, goddamn this all to hell.” I wish it were late enough for a stiff drink. I even glance at the clock to be sure. Ten a.m. Not nearly close enough to an acceptable time for imbibing. My next thought is to call Lance, but considering how well our conversation went yesterday, that’s not such a great idea, either. I’m on my own with this one.

  Which only leaves going down the hall and talking to Erynne. Perhaps groveling. Definitely begging her forgiveness. Maybe I’ll throw in the promise of a lifetime of coffee runs, too.

  Something occurs to me while I debate my limited, lame options. Part of what is making this so damned hard is I don’t want to apologize, because I’m not sorry I kissed her. Sure, it wasn’t the smartest thing I could have done. And it certainly wasn’t good timing on her part. In my own defense, I’ll admit I’ve wanted to kiss this woman—and more—since the day I first set eyes on her.

  I loved kissing her. I want to do it again and again.

  However, setting things right comes first. We work together. My foolish move can’t interfere with our jobs.

  Dread builds inside my gut as I make the short walk to her office and tap on her door.

  Silence answers, so I tap again.

  “What is it?” This time, I’m the one who doesn’t answer. I push open the door, step inside, and turn the lock. I study her expression as I ease into the chair across from her desk, and lift one leg, resting my ankle on the opposite knee.

  Then, I simply sit back and wait.

  Long, uncomfortable seconds pass. We stare at each other without speaking.

  More seconds pass.

  “I came here to apologize,” I say, finally. She clicks her pen, a nervous habit. “But, honestly, I don’t want to.”

  There’s a quick intake of breath, and she squeezes her eyes closed.

  “Evan…” She doesn’t finish her thought.

  More seconds pass.

  “Why?”

  “Why did I kiss you? Why don’t I want to apologize? Why am I here?”

  She nods, but refuses to meet my gaze. “All of those.”

  “Here’s what I can apologize for.” Her eyes snap to mine. “I can apologize for not waiting at least a few more months to kiss you, which would have been the honorable thing to do. For that, I do apologize.”

  Her mouth gapes open. This wasn’t what she expected me to say. I set my foot down and lean forward, arms on my thighs.

  “What happened makes things uncomfortable between us. My apology won’t make it less so. I’ll be honest instead. I love working with you. You are bright, smart, creative. I couldn’t ask to be paired with anyone better. I don’t want to lose that relationship with you.” The edges of her mouth tip into a small smile.

  “I don’t regret kissing you. In fact, I loved kissing you. I didn’t intend to. It was impulsive.” I debate telling her how attracted I am to her, but decide I’ve mucked things up enough for now.

  “I won’t do it again. This isn’t the time for you.” A smile pulls at my lips, and can’t resist going a tiny step further. “At least not now. I can’t promise what happens in the future.”

  “Evan…” she starts to protest.

  “Wait.” I hold up my hand. “Your friendship is what’s most important to me, as well as restoring our working relationship. Can we try to set it aside for a while? We don’t even have to pretend it didn’t happen. Just set it aside. Put it on a shelf. Come back to it sometime later on if we want—or let the memory fade.”

  “I think I can do that. Give me a little time? Maybe this afternoon we can sit down and work. See how it goes?”

  I grin at her. “Looking forward to it. I’ll bring the coffee.”

  I get a happy nod and stand to leave. “Once I walk out of here, this conversation is going into the vault, got it?”

  “Yeah.”

  I stand. At the door, I pause and turn back. “So, I wanna say…at the risk of being an ass…it was a really great kiss.” I wink and let myself out, but I think I hear her laughing as I do.

  ****

  Around two o’clock, there’s a timid tap on my door.

  It’s her.

  I’ve left it slightly ajar all day as an invitation to come in when she’s ready. She must have sucked up the courage. I wonder what she told Maya. I don’t care, but I am curious.

  Her head pokes around the corner. The goddamned cute gesture makes me smile.

  “Are you coming in or going to lurk in the hall for the rest of the day?”

  She rolls her eyes and enters halfway. Then, she stands still, her gaze pin-balling across the room, trying to decide whether to go to the table or sit at my desk and discuss world politics. With a deep breath, she chooses the work table. I join her and we dive into the first account in the stack.

  And that quickly, we’re normal again.

  Sometime later, she leans back and peers over at me.

  “What?” God, I hope she’s not going to rehash the kiss—unless, of course, she’s up for a refresher. Not a chance in hell.

  “Coffee. You promised me coffee.” She turns on the brilliant smile which makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.

  “I’m on it. You staying here or coming with?”

  “I’ll stay and sort out the Jonas stuff while you’re out, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure. Be back in a jiff.”

  At the elevator, I sense the presence of someone behind me. Maya.

  “What can I do for you this afternoon, Maya?”

  “Knock it off. Did you two kiss and makeup?”

  I’m sure I blanch fifty shades of pale at her choice of words.

  Where’s the damned elevator?

  “Um, yeah. We talked and…everything’s cool, now,” I assure her. “Just a little misunderstanding.”

  I’m praying Maya buys this.

  “Good. Whatever you did, don’t do it again, you hear?” She winks and bounces off to wherever she came from.

  Ding!

  The elevator door slides open, and I come face-to-face with Lance. This day keeps getting better and better.

  “Going somewhere, Mr. Giamatti?”

  If he weren’t my best friend and future business partner, I’d wipe the grin off his face with my fist. Instead, I get into the elevator.

  “Coffee run.”

  All the way to the coffee shop and back to our floor, Lance yammers on about software stuff, much to my relief. He was curious when I bought two coffees, but said nothing. Aside from that, I’ve nearly forgotten Erynne is waiting for me in my office. I only hope Lance keeps his trap shut and doesn’t make things anymore awkward than they already are.

  “Here’s your coffee, Erynne,” I announce as we enter.

  She gives me a thankful smile. “Ahh…just what the doctor ordered. Oh, hey, Lance. This a surprise. I didn’t expect you today.”

  She’s cheerful and normal, which is a huge relief. I hope Lance doesn’t say something to reverse her mood.

  “If it isn’t my favorite ad exec. How are ya, sunshine?”

  “Not bad, all things considered. You? What brings you by?”

  “Checking up on the man here. Someone’s gotta keep him in line.” He chuckles and glares at me.

  The urge to shut him up with my fist returns.

  “We were going over some of the ads for Jonas. Wanna look?” His comment floats over her head, and I sink down
into my seat in relief.

  After we’ve finished reviewing Lance’s account, Erynne scoops up a pile of files and stands.

  “I’m gonna leave you two to it. I’ve got some things to handle before I call it a day. Good to see you, Lance. Thanks, Evan. Catch ya later.”

  As soon as she disappears down the hall, Lance stares at me. “How did you manage that? Everything seemed totally normal.”

  I grin. “We had a little chat. Locked that shit up in a box and threw away the key. For now.”

  “You son of a bitch.” Lance shakes his head.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Derrick

  I wake to find Morgan tucked next to me, still sound asleep, and recall last night’s “activities.” Her silky red hair, slithers through my fingers as I consider the mess I’ve made of my life.

  What the hell am I doing?

  I don’t love Morgan. I never have. I love my wife. The problem is I crave Morgan. This craving for deviant sex is off the charts—probably because I’ve denied myself for so many years.

  Sex with Erynne was always wonderful and loving. Deep down, though, I missed the kinky stuff. In the beginning, I told myself I would gradually initiate Erynne into my…peculiarities. Over time, the mere thought of telling her about my forbidden sexual appetite was impossible. So, I stuffed the urge far down and dealt with it.

  Until Morgan came back.

  She’d been my submissive play partner for several years, until she left to move to Baltimore for a job. Then, I met Erynne, and everything changed.

  I fought the dark need. I was successful until being around Morgan brought it all back—hard and fast. She taunted me. Her presence alone reminded me of what we’d had and how good it had been. Then, she threatened to expose my past to Erynne, and I couldn’t let that happen. So, I played her game, and I lost.

  I didn’t stand a chance.

  ****

  “Derrick…” Jamie halted in the doorway to my office.

  “Here I am. Right where I’m supposed to be. What can I do for you, Jamie?”

  “I want to introduce you to our new attorney. She’s got a fantastic background. Came to us highly recommended by her previous firm. She has the kind of experience we’re going to need on the Martin case. Calvin and I decided to put her on your team.”