by M. C. Decker
“Your view … your entire office … it’s exquisite,” I said after soaking it all in.
“We haven’t spoken in over nine years, and you want to talk about my view? But now that you mention it … my view is quite exquisite and I’m not referring to the skyline, or this office” he said, while licking his bottom lip. “You’re just as beautiful as ever, Brooke.”
“… … … Rich, why am I here?”
Rich walked over to his side of the desk and placed his palms flat on its surface as if bracing himself before speaking, his intense, teal-blue eyes looking directly into my soul. “You’re here because when your application came across my desk, I knew it was a sign that I had to see you again … had to hear you laugh again … had to smell that sweet scent again. I’ve missed you, Brooke.”
He took a deep breath before continuing, “Every time an application came across my desk I hoped that one day it would be yours. You always said this was it for you – your end game and your dream job. I’d be lying to myself and to you, if I didn’t tell you that I came here and accepted this position, hoping that one day we’d find each other again.”
“So, you only scheduled an interview because you wanted to finish what we never started ten years ago?” I asked in my most accusatory tone.
“Pshh, you would get that from what I just said, wouldn’t you? No, of course not, Brooke. I wanted you to come for an interview, because I was impressed by what I read on your resume. You’ve had an impressive career and I think you would make an excellent addition to my editorial staff. Trust me, I’m not the only one who thinks that. Your resume made it through three layers of a selection process before it ended up on my desk.”
“Oh … OK. Well, thanks.”
He looked at me with the most devilish grin before adding … “It just doesn’t hurt that I want to get to know you again.”
I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and expected that they had turned a bright shade of pink.
“Rich, I can’t do this. I really do want this job, but if I accept the position, assuming that you are offering me one, I … we can’t do this. You’d be my boss. I can’t and I won’t be my boss’s pet. No one would ever take me seriously. I wouldn’t take me seriously. I’ve worked too hard for my career.”
“I’m sorry, Brooke, I should have kept that to myself. I don’t want to scare you away. How about this … I don’t offer you the position – today? We talk – you know, catch up – conduct a real interview. Then I’ll send you on your way to your hotel. You will then eat at the restaurant where my secretary has already made dinner reservations for you. I’ll just happen to show up and we’ll meet once again. I’ll just be Rich and you’ll just be Brooke. We won’t be interviewer and interviewee. What do you say, Miss Anderson? Sound like a plan?”
I had to give him credit; he sure did make it sound so easy.
“Sounds more like a date than a plan, Mr. Davis. You’ve really given this some thought. That truly is some proposition,” I responded with a wink.
“I’ll take your feisty response as a yes then. And, yes, I’ve been thinking about this since I left you on your doorstep, wearing that ravishing, purple gown over nine years ago. Now, the quicker we begin your interview, the faster we can get to dinner, the earlier I can get you to my place so we can make up for lost time. What do you say, let’s begin your interview, shall we?”
“Ye-, Ye-s, sure … fire away.”
I looked down at my watch and realized that two hours had elapsed as Rich asked dozens of questions about what I’d been doing after graduating from Western. He seemed impressed that I had earned a master’s degree in journalism and had worked my way up to editor at my local newspaper. I was equally impressed to learn he had also earned a master’s in journalism from a very well-respected university on the East Coast.
It was depressing to think that we had such similar backgrounds, yet he had made it so much farther than me. You’re here now, Brooke. That’s all that matters. Forget the past … look toward the future.
We talked a little bit about my family. Of course, he was devastated to learn about the passing of my mom. They had only met briefly once at a family picnic outing that the college had planned my junior year. He told me then that he had lost his dad about a year earlier.
So, he understood the pain that I still knew every day. It was in that moment when I think I felt a little closer to Rich. Sure, we had thick, sexual chemistry, but I was starting to notice an emotional attachment that I may have been missing when I first stepped into his office. It was then that I had to remind myself that this would never work, if I actually wanted to work at the Washington Post, my dream job. Of course, I wanted to work at the Post, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if I wanted Rich more. Was it possible to have both?
“Well, Brooke, I suppose I’ve taken up enough of your time for the day. Do you have any questions for me, or about the position?”
“No, I think we covered just about everything. Thank you for your time and thank you for considering me for the position. I’ll see myself out, if that’s everything.”
“Brooke, don’t forget about checking in with Ms. Murphy about your dinner reservations.”
“Yes, sir,” I said in my most seductive tone.
“Don’t tease me, sweetheart. It’s taking all my willpower not to rip that skirt off you and bend you over my desk right now.”
And with that statement, I felt my lady parts quiver in anticipation for what I’d been dreaming about for the better part of a decade. Was this really going to happen – tonight?
I made it to my hotel suite shortly before two in the afternoon. Caroline gave me my dinner reservations and also provided a few options as far as the best boutiques in the area.
I had just a few hours to find the perfect cocktail dress that would wow Rich’s socks off – or rather his entire suit and everything underneath. What the hell am I thinking … I can NOT have sex with Rich Davis. I want to work in his editorial department. This has always been my dream job and I can’t mess that up now for just one incredible night under the sheets with him. Or, could I? Maybe we could just pretend to be strangers tonight … as Rich had suggested. And, tomorrow would be a new day.
I found the perfect dress in a small boutique in the most upscale area of D.C. Even though it was a bit out of my price range, I pulled out my credit card to pay for the purchase. Hopefully, I would soon have a better paying job and could afford to pay down the large amount of debt I had incurred over the years with my frivolous spending habits.
Arriving back at my hotel room at around four in the afternoon, I had just enough time to hop in the shower before getting ready for my dinner date with Rich. I still hadn’t had time to call Cassidy to tell her about my interview, or my potential new boss, so I decided to shoot her a quick text telling her I would call her later with the details.
You’ll never guess who I ran into today. I’m heading out to dinner in the city. I will call you when I get back. Love ya, girlie!
Cass: What the fuck. You’re going to dinner … alone? You can’t possibly have a date you’ve only been there what like six hours? You little slut! Who the hell did you meet in the city!?! You better call me TONIGHT, missy! Unless you’re getting frisky! Make sure you stuff a condom into your purse. The last thing you want is a fun-sized Brookie showing up in nine months! ;) Xxoo
Oh, Cass, always the drama queen. I tossed my phone onto the bed and padded into the bathroom to hop in the shower. After emerging, I applied some light makeup, slightly dried my hair before scrunching it up, so it would fall into loose waves over my shoulders. I opened my suitcase and was pleased that Cass had talked me into packing a sexy, black lace thong and matching bra.
I could hear her now, “You never know when you might need some sexy lingerie, Brookie. What if you meet the man of your dreams and instantly have to fuck him? Would you want him to see you in some granny panties? Or, heaven forbid, you get into a horrific, yet non-li
fe-threatening, car accident and Doctor Hotstuff has to rip your clothes off in the ER?”
I chuckled at her infinite wisdom as I shimmied into my lingerie and then into the short, long-sleeved, sequined, purple cocktail dress that I had purchased earlier. I knew Rich had a thing for me in purple, after all, he did share that little fact earlier during the interview. I also added the silver, glittery, peep-toe, Jimmy Choo pumps that I included with my purchase and a pair of silver, dangly earrings that I brought along from home. Who would have thought, I, Brooke Anderson, would buy a pair of Louboutins and Jimmy Choos in the same week?
After checking myself once more in the mirror, I was pleased with the reflection staring back at me. It was approaching five o’clock and I needed to head out to make it to the restaurant on time. If I remembered correctly, Rich Davis was never late for anything.
As the taxicab pulled up to the Oceanaire Seafood Room, where Ms. Murphy had made reservations, I felt the same jitters that overcame me earlier that morning. I knew this was a premier restaurant in the city and briefly wondered how Rich could afford such an extravagant lifestyle. I’m sure he made a very nice living as editor of one of the world’s largest newspapers, but I still knew how much journalists usually made and it wouldn’t be enough for this type of restaurant, or the three-piece Armani suit he was wearing earlier in the day. I made a mental note to ask him about that later.
I wiped my palms as best I could on my legs and took a deep breath before paying the driver and exiting the car. As I approached the building, I once again bumped into the hard chest of the one and only Rich Davis.
“You really do need to watch where you’re going, Brooke. One of these days, I won’t be around to keep you on your feet. Might I add, sweetheart, that you look ravishing. Simply a sight for sore eyes … Mmmm … edible, really. What I wouldn’t do to skip dinner and just skip straight to what would probably be the sweetest dessert ever. I really do love you in purple – magnificent. You’re just as stunning in purple as that day all those years ago.”
I smiled as I mentally congratulated myself for listening so well earlier, despite the gorgeous man in front of me who had been doing most of the talking.
“Well, hello, to you, too, Rich. And, thank you. Might I add that you clean up pretty well, too.” That was an understatement on my part. He looked so sexy in his black suit that he’d been wearing earlier in the day, paired with a shirt that matched the exact color of his eyes.
He had removed his tie and left the top button open which revealed just a small outline of sinfully sexy chest. His hair was a bit shorter than I remembered from college, but it was slicked back and so hot. I think that I, too, wanted to skip straight to dessert.
We enjoyed a pleasant dinner of the best sautéed scallops and shrimp and a few glasses of the house-specialty Chardonnay, as we exchanged much more personal information than we had earlier that day in his office. We also had a great time going back down memory lane. I reminded Rich of the time we worked together on our first writing assignment. He chuckled when I told him what a complete douche bag I thought he was at the time.
“I bet you still show up to everything twenty minutes early, don’t you?”
“Punctuality is of utmost importance, Brooke – in life and in business. And, I bet you still sleep with that teddy bear that always sat on the end of your bed, don’t you?
I glanced at him quizzically and with a raised brow before answering, “Uh, yeah. But, I don’t ever remember you coming into my room. You always just stopped at my door and never made a move to come inside. How did you know I had a teddy bear on the end of my bed?”
“Oh, I have my sources,” he replied with a devilish grin. “But, I was in your room breifly the afternoon of your sorority formal.”
“Oh my god, I’m going to kill her. I can’t believe Cassidy told you my deepest secret,” I responded in a fit of laughter. “When did she tell you this?”
“Sure did. I believe it was the night of the sorority formal. You were still standing through the moon roof when she came down to get more champagne. I even understand his name is Reggie?”
“How … how, after all of these years, do you remember my teddy bear’s name? Even I can hardly remember his name!”
“I remember everything about you, Brooke Anderson – everything.”
His words sent chills up my arms, but I decided it was time to broach a more serious subject while the waiter cleared the table as we waited for our desserts.
“Why did you break your promise, Rich?”
He looked directly into my eyes before answering, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Brooke.”
“You told me you’d keep in touch. It’s been nine years, Rich. I haven’t spoken to you since that day in the quad over nine years ago,” I responded.
“That wasn’t my promise, Brooke. What I promised you was that it wasn’t goodbye for us that day. As you can see, I’ve kept my promise just like I intend to keep every promise I ever make to you. And, I can promise you this … I plan on making several, sweetheart.”
His words caught me off guard and I stared at him with my mouth agape for several seconds before I spit out the first question that came to mind.
“How did you get your position at the Post?” I’d been wondering this ever since I ran into him at the elevator that morning.
“Well, I started as a lowly intern during my last semester at Columbia,” he said with a shrug. “I decided to come down here instead of working at the Times like most of my peers. I guess they just loved me so much that they gave me a job when the semester ended. I went back to New York to collect my degree and moved to D.C. the following week. I worked as a reporter for about a year before being moved into the editorial department. Eventually, our editor left and the rest, as they say, is history.”
“That really is quite impressive, Rich, but how did you end up doing so well for yourself? I know journalists don’t have the kind of money that you appear to be throwing around.” Shit, the words were off my tongue before I even thought about what I was asking … and of my potential boss, no less. Real smooth, Brooke. Real smooth.
A chuckle escaped Rich before he continued … “Cut right to the chase, don’t you.” He took a deep breath before continuing, “My dad … as I told you earlier, passed one year ago. We were always very wealthy growing up because he’d been very successful in his business dealings. He really knew how to invest his money. Due to his diligence, my mom, sister and I will never have to worry about money. It was still important for me to work. I worked very hard in school to have a successful career in journalism, but, as you just pointed out, the profession doesn’t pay that well even in my position. But, thanks to my dad, I’m able to do what I love and still have the means to live a very comfortable lifestyle.”
“That’s nice that he was able to do that for you. He would be very proud of you, Rich.”
“Thanks, I hope so. I know your mom would be proud of her baby girl, too.”
“Thanks, but I’m not so sure. I really gave up on my dreams when she died. I think I was scared that I would fail and I used her death as an excuse. I’m tired of running scared from things anymore. I need to do this for me … for her. It’s what she would want me to do.”
“Trust me, sweetheart. She would be very proud of the intelligent and beautiful woman that is sitting before me. It may have taken you awhile to follow your dreams, but you’re here now. I hope I’m able to make each and every one of your dreams come true,” Rich said reassuringly.
“Rich, you sound like a commercial for Disney World.” I said, so matter-of-factly.
Now I had him in a fit of laughter as our waiter brought us two plates of tiramisu and two vanilla lattes with a hint of Bailey’s Irish Cream.
“I’ve missed you, Brooke. Your wit. Your smile. Your laughter. Your beauty – Every. last. bit. of. you.” Each word spoken between chuckles set off by my previous Disney World comment.
“I don’t know if I ca
n take a laughing man seriously, Rich.”
He suddenly became very earnest as he spoke, “I’m serious, Brooke, very serious. Don’t mistake my laughter as my not taking you seriously. It feels so good to be free and laugh around you. I love yo … your ability to make me laugh.”
My mind was swirling a mile a minute after Rich’s confession. Was he just about to tell me that he loved me? How could he possibly know such a thing? We hadn’t seen each other in nine years and we were never actually together then. I’ve never even had his lips on mine. Why, even with all of the rational thoughts, am I thinking that I could love him, too? Holy shit.
An “OK” was all I was able to squeak out before I turned my attention to the tiramisu in front of me.
“Now that you’ve already asked me the tough questions, what do you say to a quick game of Truth or Dare. You know for old time’s sake?” Rich inquired.
“I can’t argue with a man who wants to play Truth or Dare,” I replied, shaking my head.
“OK, I’ll start. Hit me with a truth,” he said.
“What’s your biggest regret in life?”
“That’s easy,” he instantly answered. “Letting you walk out of my life all those years ago. I have thought about you every day for the past nine years, Brooke. That’s the honest-to-god, truth.”
His words were so raw, and so filled with emotion. I had to blink back the tears that had formed in my eyes.
“Wow, I wasn’t expecting that, Rich. Maybe we shouldn’t be playing this. I remember your questions and tasks were of a higher caliber in college, I can only imagine what they are like now,” I said, with a chuckle.
“Just pick one, already. I promise to go easy on you.”
“OK, truth for me, too,” I said.
“Do you regret not kissing me – really kissing me when I dared you all those years ago?”
I took a deep breath before answering, after all, he did ask for the truth. “Yes.”