Avoiding Mr. Right

by C. J. Ellisson

  Blood turns to ice in my veins as I watch the couple walk out. He gives her a big

  hug and opens the door to her dusty sedan parked in front of the restaurant. He strolls

  away as my lungs remember how to work and I suck in a sharp breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Heather asks. “You’ve got the meanest look on your face.”

  Cold settles over me as I lock down the growing interest I had in my heart for the

  rat bastard. Guess what we had was just sex for him. I thought what we shared last

  night was different. Did he spend the day in her bed when I refused to go back to

  his place after the bar? Disappoint swells inside and I scrunch it down, refusing

  to acknowledge the feeling. “Nothing.” I force a brittle smile onto my face. “Nothing

  at all.”

  By the time I get back to my apartment I’m numb. I can’t believe I almost let Heather

  talk me into thinking this “thing” with Andy could be something more. I never would

  have pegged the quiet unassuming man as the type to have multiple women on the line,

  but then again, I also thought he’d be a boring lover, so what the hell do I know?

  I can’t decide which hurts more, being right or wishing I was wrong.

  My phone rings. I glance at the display, it’s my mom. “Crap.” Today is her actual

  birthday and I forgot to call. Might as well get the painful conversation over with

  as soon as possible.

  I swipe the unlock on the tiny screen and click answer. “Happy Birthday, Mom.”

  “Hmmph. Not so happy when I had to call you. Did you forget?”

  “No, Mom,” I quickly lie. “I was working late and just got home.”

  “I heard from your sister.”

  “Good,” I try to steer the topic onto something brighter, which in this case is my

  little sister. “How’s Julie doing? Did you see her this week?”

  “No, she’s traveling with work. Said she’d come up this weekend. But she and her rich

  boyfriend did send me a nice flower arrangement.” She snorts. “Julie never had any

  taste so I’m guessing the hot-shot property developer picked them out.”

  “That’s nice.” Geez, what is with this woman that every nice gesture is turned into

  something bad with her retelling it?

  “Want to place bets on how long their relationship lasts? I’m betting another month,

  tops.”

  “Mom! That’s pretty cold. She’s in love. Can’t you just let it go and be happy for

  her?”

  Another miserable grunt greets me over the line. “Love doesn’t last. You just wait

  and see.”

  The burning pain inside me at seeing Andy with that woman at the restaurant makes

  me hold my tongue. I want desperately to argue with her, to make her see how negative

  she’s being, but a big part of me fears she’s right, so I keep quiet. Thankfully I

  only have to listen to her for a few more minutes and then we hang up.

  Facing Andy at work tomorrow is not going to be easy. Wish I had some dumb stud in

  bed to distract me. Maybe I’d even call in sick or take a mental health day and go

  shopping. With inspiration hitting me, I call the guy I went to dinner with last night,

  before I saw Andy. Sure, he might have been a little boring, but he won’t break my heart.

  “Hey, Brian. It’s Carla. Are you free for lunch tomorrow?”

  “I’ve got back to back meetings. How about Monday?”

  Resolve hardens my heart as I think of Andy and his other woman. “Sounds great. I’ll

  see you then.”

  Chapter Ten

  Andrew

  Carla has alternated all day between avoiding me like the plague and staring at me

  for minutes on end during two meetings. I swear the woman doesn’t know what the hell

  she wants. She won’t talk to me, and according to Outlook, doesn’t open my emails

  unless there are other people CC’d on them.

  When she refused coming back to my place Wednesday, I shrugged it off. I could tell

  by her reaction she’d never had an experience like the one I showed her and I thought

  perhaps she was still feeling torn on what to do. Should she keep searching for the

  man with the exciting career who must be wild in bed, or take a chance with the guy she only thinks of as a friend? And

  then I took off on Thursday to see my mom. It’s like I came to work to a whole new

  person.

  It’s the end of the day and I’m going to push the envelope with her and see how she

  responds. I need to get some type of reaction from her. “Afternoon, Carla.” I lean

  against her cubicle wall, invading her personal workspace.

  The young blonde jolts at her desk and her cheeks turn pink. “Hi.”

  “What’s eating you?”

  She harrumphs and returns her focus to the paperwork in front of her. “Nothing. Just

  busy.” Carla’s cheeks flame red and I can’t tell if she’s embarrassed or angry by

  what happened between us.

  “Bullshit,” I say.

  Her head whips up. “‘Bullshit?’ What the hell? You don’t know me.”

  Shock tightens my stomach. Yup. She’s mad. I lower my voice and lean closer. “Really?

  I bet I know a part of you no one else in the world knows.”

  The red of her cheeks joins with the red creeping up her neck, definitely more embarrassed,

  now. “Leave me alone, Andy. I have no intention of becoming another play thing for

  you.”

  “Another play thing? Is that what you think?”

  She turns to me, a look of steely determination in her eye. “Yes. Now, leave me the

  hell alone or I’ll tell your boss you’re flirting with me and I’d like it to stop.”

  Heat burns in my chest. “You wouldn’t. That’s total BS. We have the beginnings of

  something here.”

  Ignoring my last comment, she says, “Try me.”

  I turn away, deciding to regroup. No way in hell am I letting that parting threat

  stand. But handling this at work is not the right thing to do, either.

  Saturday morning, after a night of drinking alone and resisting the urge to call her,

  I journey to Carla’s apartment. Unfortunately, she’s not home. If she had returned

  any of my texts last night I might not have ventured over uninvited, but I couldn’t

  let whatever distance is building between us to continue. She’ll push me out before

  I get a second chance to prove myself.

  She likes yoga, so maybe she’s getting an early morning workout. I grab a cup of coffee

  from the bodega across the street, deciding to wait and see if she returns. Luck shines

  on me within twenty minutes. Carla strolls up the street, dressed in yoga clothes

  and looking more relaxed than she did yesterday. Good, this might be my only chance.

  I wait five minutes and follow, wanting her to catch another elevator before me so

  she’s inside her apartment. I have no desire for a confrontation in the lobby of her

  building—that could seriously backfire if she’s still pissed.

  I ring her bell. The sound of footsteps approach the door and I assume she’s looking

  at me through the peephole. Silence ensues. “Carla? I know you’re in there. I can

  hear you. Open up.”

  Her outraged huff reaches me through the closed door a split second before she opens

  it. “What do you want? Why the hell are you here?”

  She steps back from the door slightly and I take it as an opportunity to let myself

  in.

  “Hey!” s
he exclaims. “That was rather rude.”

  I whip around to face her as she closes the door. “And you think the way you treated

  me at work yesterday was any better?”

  “Oh, please.” She flounces past me and drops on the couch. “I’m sure you were working

  your magic on someone else right after.” She stares into my eyes, a challenge in her

  tone. “It’s not like what we did really mattered to you.”

  “I don’t know where this crap is coming from. I miss a day at work and you’re a whole

  different person.”

  “Yeah, where were you on Thursday? Was some brown-haired woman warming your bed?”

  Shock drives me forward to stand in front of her. Anger vibrates through every muscle

  in my body. “Is that what this is all about? I take a day off and you immediately

  jump to the wrong conclusion? And where would I have met this mystery woman? In the

  bar, right after I pleasured you?”

  “Did you? How the hell would I know? You probably have a little black book full of

  women who want to do wild things with you.”

  My anger dissolves when I see she’s more jealous and hurt than truly angry. “Is that

  what you think?” I lower my voice and step closer. “You think what I shared with you

  is something I do all the time?”

  “I don’t know! I don’t know you. We had one mediocre night together,” I wince at her description, “and then you start

  coming on super strong and sexy. It’s nerve wracking!”

  I sit in the chair next to the couch, eager to reach out and take her hand, but worry

  the timing is wrong. “You do know me, Carla. I’ve never been anyone but me at work

  or anytime we’ve talked.”

  Distrust flashes across her face. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

  I’ll prove to her I’m not some nameless, faceless man she brings home. Six months

  of working together… she’s got to know a little bit about me, right? I refuse to believe

  she’s this selfish, spoiled brat she’s pretending to be at the moment. “Where is my

  favorite place to order lunch?”

  She snorts. “Oh that’s easy. Every time it’s your turn to pick for delivery you go

  with Ray’s Pizza.” The humor leaves her face immediately. “That’s not really knowing

  someone.”

  “Name a movie I saw last month.”

  She stares off toward her kitchen. “I don’t know what in the hell this proves. You

  saw the latest action flick starring Bruce Willis, half the guys from the office went

  with you.”

  “Who organized this year’s fantasy football team in the office?”

  “Ugh. You did. That was annoying as hell.”

  “Do I own a car?”

  Her face scrunches up. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “What’s my favorite color?”

  “How in the hell would I know?” Her head whips back toward me. “Give me a break.”

  I run a hand through my hair, unwilling to give up. “Think, Carla. You’re not some

  unobservant twit. You’ve chosen to be purposefully blind where I’m concerned, and

  you should ask yourself why.” Her expression starts to shut down and I realize I may

  have pushed her too hard. “What color do you see me wear the most?”

  “Well…” she relaxes into the couch. “I do recall you wear a lot of bright blue ties.”

  “Bingo. Because it’s my favorite color.”

  Her eyelids drift lower and she fiddles with the tie on her yoga pants, “Yeah, well,

  it does go great with your eyes.”

  A huge smile breaks across my face. “See? Was that so hard? You do know a little about

  me.”

  She snaps to attention and straightens in her seat. “I still don’t know who you were

  with on Thursday.”

  “I spent the day with my sister, visiting our mom.”

  Her face freezes. “You have a sister?”

  “Yeah, a twin. Hair and eyes the same color as mine, almost as tall, big pain in the

  ass…” My voice trails off as I watch the play of emotions cross her face. Understanding

  seeps in. “Shit, did you see me with her on Thursday night and think she was my date?!?”

  Horror and humor fill me in equal parts. “Date my sister? No way! Didn’t you notice

  we look alike?”

  Mortification flits across her expression. “Uh… now that you mention it, I guess you

  did look a little alike.” I laugh and she cracks a smile. “You could have been one

  of those good-looking couples who look like a matched set together. Hey! It was an

  honest mistake.”

  “So, you think I’m good-looking?”

  A crafty look enters her eye. “Nah, it was totally your sister who made you look good.”

  I laugh, the tension I’ve held the past day easing out of me. “All this could have

  been avoided if you’d talked to me.”

  “About what? We’re not an item. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

  Determination fills my soul. “I’d like to change that. Give me another chance.” She

  hesitates and I grab her hand, laying a soft kiss on her fingers while slowly running

  my thumb across the back of her hand. “You like what I made you feel in the back room

  of the bar, didn’t you?” She nods. “There’s a lot more in store for you… if you just

  give us a chance.”

  She glances at her watch. “Do I have to answer, right now? I need to shower and be

  someplace in an hour.”

  “Is it Dress for Success?”

  She looks at me sharply. “How did you know?”

  “Because I pay attention, Carla. You may pretend to be this prickly woman to keep

  men at arm’s length, but you’re not all sharp edges. You have a depth to you. I’ve

  seen it.”

  “Well then, care to put your money where your mouth is? I’m helping to process donated

  items today. It’s my least favorite job and I could use a hand.”

  Hope swells when I realize this could be the first brick in taking down her emotional

  wall. “You’re on. I’ll get us lunch while you shower.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Carla

  The warm water cascades over me, easing the last bit of anxiety from my body. I can’t

  believe I thought his sister was another woman he slept with! Thank God I didn’t follow

  my first instinct, which was to storm up to them on the sidewalk and yell at Andy.

  That would have been humiliating, especially since I’m always the one preaching I

  don’t need a man.

  What Andy made me feel on Wednesday… it’s not about need, it’s about want. My nipples tighten as I recall how liberating it felt to be blindfolded and pleasured.

  I want that sensation again. I want to feel more. And that cute little accountant

  might be just the one to give it to me.

  I resist the urge to tweak my hard peaks and the overwhelming desire to pleasure myself

  in the shower. I hurry through my washing, worried Andy will return with lunch while

  I’m still in the bathroom. I pick a pair of tight jeans that showcase my ass nicely,

  and a snug top to display the cleavage revealed by my push-up bra. If I’m thinking

  more about that man than I want, then damned if I’m not going to drive him to distraction

  every chance I get.

  I put on light make-up and give my short hair a quick blast with the hairdryer. By

  the time I finish, my phone vibrates.