Part of me wants to go into my old place of employment looking the part of the position I’m leaving. The other part of me wants to dress like I have been in Lexington, more of the person I am now. Or maybe the person I’ve always been and hadn’t realized until now.
I know if I go with the dark-wash jeans and blouse I have laid out, Kent will have a coronary. He hates the business casual look. He also hates my hair wavy but that’s how I’ve chosen to wear it today. I realize I’m putting too much thought into Kent and seeing him today, but I’m a woman and I find a little satisfaction in showing my ex what he’s missing out on.
As I balance on one foot while I slide the strap of my wedge behind my heel, my phone signals a text message. It’s probably Dakota. Nobody else would be up this early and texting me. I grab my phone and tap the message icon. It’s not Dakota.
Owen: I saw your sister.
I don’t respond.
Owen: She said you left. When are you coming back?
Again, I don’t respond.
Owen: We need to talk.
Me: If it’s about the backorder of lumber, Jameson has that info.
Owen: It’s not about work.
Me: I don’t see what we have to talk about.
I look at the time and am going to be late if I don’t get a move on. Instead of responding to the multiple text messages coming through my phone, I silence the notifications and toss it in my purse.
I do not miss city traffic. I rather enjoy leaving my house ten minutes before I need to be at work every morning. This traffic and noise is for the birds. I don’t even see birds. Even they can’t stand it here. It’s funny how being only two hours away feels like a million miles when you’re sitting through the fifth red light and have only moved a few feet.
I tap my fingers on the steering wheel as “Can’t Feel My Face” by The Weeknd fills the car. It’s when the next song, “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed Sheeran, begins playing I pause. Like the silent movie of my relationship with Kent was playing through my mind earlier, my time with Owen begins the same way. Only, this movie isn’t silent and it isn’t black and white. No, this one is in vivid color, the sounds are evident, and the emotion it evokes is all encompassing. My heart fills and shatters simultaneously. Which, seems like it should be impossible, but it’s not.
How did I let myself get roped into this? I swore I wasn’t going to date. I wasn’t going to meet someone. And I wasn’t going to fall for anyone. My commitment is to figure out my future and help my family. I finally approach the intersection with a green light and laugh to myself as I make it through just as the light turns yellow. I managed to get one part right—I didn’t date.
Dakota drove home a valid point when she said I was a booty call to Owen. I think deep down I knew that. I had heard all about his reputation, his charming wit, and megawatt smile that sent many women into a fit of giggles before dropping their panties and throwing their inhibitions out the window. I don’t know why I thought I was different. Maybe it was because I never pursued him. Perhaps it was because we didn’t just hookup, we talked. We laughed.
I pull into the parking lot and into a visitor’s spot before pulling down the visor and checking my appearance in the small mirror. I look different than the last day I was here. I may be a little heartbroken, but I’m happier. I love being there for my family and I absolutely love the little life I’m building in Lexington.
Against my better judgment, I pull out my phone and check the time and my messages. I have about five minutes until my appointment so I scroll to note I have eight from Owen and two from Dakota. Ignoring Owen’s, I open Dakota’s message.
Dakota: We forgot to tell Mrs. Larson I was home. Whoops! But she’s great and we enjoyed a pot of coffee and getting to know each other.
Dakota: And, I may have yelled at Owen last night. Okay, I did. He deserved it. Don’t be mad. He’s an idiot. Anyway, hurry and handle your shit so you can come home. I don’t remember this pig show being so unbelievably annoying. Love you!
She yelled at Owen? Great. I swear, my sister and her lack of boundaries when it comes to me.
Me: What did you say to him?
Dakota: Nothing much. Basically, told him he was a dumbass. Well, you’re both dumbasses and nobody listens to me.
Dakota: Seriously with this pig? I’m ready to tell her the pig died.
Me: Please don’t do that. She’ll have a meltdown. You should’ve seen her when the cable was out one morning.
Dakota: Even more reason. Why aren’t cartoons cool like when we were kids. Isn’t there like a flashback channel or something?
I laugh and exit my car on my way into the building.
Me: Going in now. I’ll TTYL.
I contemplate Owen’s messages for a brief minute as I stand in the foyer of the building, but now I’m running late so I toss the phone in my purse and greet the woman at the front desk. Once she confirms my name and appointment, I’m cleared to proceed to the elevators and up to the fifth floor to officially put my former life to rest.
One hour, fourteen signatures later, and with a small box in my hands, I’m escorted to my former office by Kiersten, my human resources representative. Normally, a security guard would do this, but she and I were friendly so she offered to come with me as to not make it awkward. I appreciate the effort and secretly think she knows I may need someone to run interference with Kent.
I’ve placed the final frame in the small box and am taking inventory of the room before confirming I have everything that is of a personal nature when I hear a throat clear and look up to find Kent standing in the doorway.
“Kiersten, I’ll escort Ms. Walker out if you need to get back to your office.”
Kiersten looks from Kent to me before answering. “Nope, I’m happy to hang out with Minnie. We’re just catching up.” Bless her.
“Actually, I think Charles was looking for you. I’ll stay. You should find him.” He’s full of crap. Charles Phelps isn’t looking for Kiersten. He’s the damn CEO of the company and isn’t involved in HR business. But, the idea that he may be looking for her has Kiersten visibly shaken.
“It’s fine, I’m just about done here, Kiersten. Thanks for keeping me company.” I walk around my desk, former desk, and offer a quick hug and a whisper that Kent is full of shit before letting her go.
Once Kiersten exits the office, Kent closes the door and stalks toward me. Kent is a handsome man. He’s a little over six feet tall, fit, and has dark-brown hair with large brown eyes. He’s dressed in one of his many navy-blue suits with a simple tie that makes his skin look like he’s been out in the sun over the summer. I know that’s not true. Kent doesn’t take time off to relax, let alone in the sun.
“Minnie, I’ve missed you,” he says as he attempts to put his hands on my arms. I shift away and grab the box. Anything that failed to make it in the box isn’t important.
“Give it a rest, Kent.”
“You look very casual, Minnesota.”
“Really? You go from missing me to remarking on my clothes? You’re ridiculous. Goodbye.”
“Wait.” A hand grabs my elbow, stopping me in my tracks. I turn to look at Kent over my shoulder when he smiles. He is quite handsome when he smiles. Too bad it’s something he saves for wooing clients. I widen my eyes, wishing I had the ability to raise a single brow, in question and look down to where his hand is on my elbow. He releases me and I turn to him, blowing a piece of hair that’s fallen in front of my face. Kent reaches over and moves the fallen strand from my face and, against my better judgment, I offer a small friendly smile in response.
“I do miss you. Can’t we talk? You don’t want to throw away three years together over a misunderstanding. I’m willing to forgive you for your tantrum. Just come home.”
And there it is. The condescending way he talks to people. The way he feels he is above us all and we should be grateful he allows us into his world. I didn’t listen to Dakota three years ago when she told me he sent her h
ackles up. That he was pulling me away from the person I was and into a new version that fit into his perfect, stainless steel, and white furniture life.
“You forgive me? You? You have got to be kidding me. There is nothing to forgive, Kent. We had a relationship and it ended. We want different things in life. This conversation now is just further proof of that.” He begins to take another step toward me but the expression on my face stops him. “Don’t even think about it. I swear to all that is holy if you keep this up, I will kick you in the balls, Kent.”
Kent’s eyes bug out and I feel a tremendous amount of satisfaction in knowing he may actually think I’d kick him in the balls. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Kent. But, I can guarantee one thing: it isn’t me. Goodbye, Kent.”
Feeling like I’ve just shed one hundred seventy pounds of expectations, I hold my head high as I exit my former office and walk to the elevators that will lead me out of this building and away from this life that I no longer live.
I knew going over to Minnie’s house again wasn’t going to go well for me. I’m not going to lie, her sister scares me. Not having much to lose, I sent her a text this morning hoping she would respond. When she did I felt like there was maybe a possibility that we could figure this out. Then the responses stopped.
I have this overwhelming need to talk to her. I need her to know I didn’t think of her as a booty call. Minnesota Walker is a lot of things, but a throwaway piece of ass isn’t one of them. God knows she deserves better than me, though I can’t stand the idea of her being with someone else. It occurred to me around lunchtime that if she was at her parents’ house, she was near her ex-boyfriend. What if she went to see him? What if he asked her to take him back?
That last thought sent my pulse racing and my fear of not seeing her again consumed me. And, it’s how I find myself in the office of Strauss Construction trying to get Jameson to tell me something.
“Look, O. I don’t know when she’s coming back. I have the info on your backordered lumber and it’ll be here Monday. Just relax.”
“I don’t care about the damn lumber. When is she coming back, J?” My voice is trembling as my patience wears thin and I watch as Jameson sits up and tosses his pen on the desk. With his arms crossed across his chest, he leans back and squints his eyes. I see his mind working a mile a minute when he starts laughing.
“You asshole. I told you not to mess with her. You couldn’t keep it in your pants, could you? Goddammit, Owen.”
“I’m not going to talk to you about that. Just tell me when she’s coming back.”
“With your track record? Probably never. Thanks for that, asshole.”
“Why am I the asshole?”
“Why?” Jameson stands and walks over to the cupboard and pulls down a couple of short glasses and returns to his desk. Pulling a bottle of whiskey from his drawer, he pours two fingers’ worth in each glass and slides one my way.
Tossing back the dark liquid, I let it burn as it slides down my throat and into my stomach. I watch as Jameson does the same and then places the bottle back in his drawer.
“I’ll tell you why. Minnie isn’t one of the randoms you pick up in a bar and then never call again. She works here. She is friends with the girls. Fuck, man, she’s a good person. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying the women you’ve been with before aren’t good people. Minnie is just different.”
Frustration builds in me again. I get it. I fucked up. I haven’t been the best guy. Using sex and hookups to run from my problems. To ignore life and everything around me. I’ve gone through the motions but never truly let myself feel anything.
“You don’t have to tell me she’s different. You have no idea about her and how different she is.” I throw my head back and look up at the ceiling. If I talk to Jameson about this, I’m betraying her trust. I’m telling her boss about her personal life. This is why people who work together don’t hook up. This is why Jameson warned me off her in the beginning. Complications.
“Owen, remember when I didn’t have to tell you about Ash and you just knew? I am right here with you now, brother. You finally met a woman that made a difference for you, didn’t you? And, then you fucked it up.”
“I think the words you’re looking for are royally fucked up.”
Jameson laughs. I laugh. It’s not funny but so very true. I unload my burdens on Jameson. I tell him about my dad, our fight, my time with Minnie, the conversation with her sister, and the realization that as much as I don’t see Minnie as a random hookup, a booty call, I treated her like one.
His advice? Beg. Grovel. Get on my knees and declare myself the biggest douchebag to walk the earth. And pray while I’m down on those knees. I don’t often take advice, but I think it may be time I start.
After playing a game of true confessions with Jameson, I head home. To my surprise, Landon is home and in the kitchen.
“What’s up, man?” I grab a bottle of water and apple from the fridge while he finishes making a very large sandwich.
“Not much. Called it a day early. I ran into Ash at the store and she said everyone was going out tonight. I figured I’d come home and grab a nap. What’re you up to?”
“Not much. It’s been kind of a rough week. I was tired so I took the afternoon off.”
“Yeah, I noticed you’ve been home all week. Minnie pissed at you?”
“How’d you know it was her? I never said anything?”
“Other than the fact you didn’t deny it the last time I said something? After like the tenth time you spaced out texting with a goofy grin on your face, I looked at your phone to see who you were talking to.”
“What the fuck, Lan? That’s an invasion of my privacy.”
“Oh, calm your dick. It’s no big deal. Why hasn’t she been around here? I like Minnie. She’s a cool chick. Plus, she’s not bad to look at.” He better stop with those eyebrow wiggles or I’m going to punch his pretty face.
“Watch it,” I growl.
“Oh man, you fell for her! Ha! I never thought I’d see the day. Owen Butler is whipped!” Landon walks out of the kitchen with his big sandwich, making whipping noises all the way to his bedroom. Dick.
I hate when he’s right. More than that, I hate when I’m wrong and everyone is right. I have to fix this. This is why I don’t do feelings. It’s too much stress.
“Are you sure she’s coming?”
Ashton rolls her eyes at me for at least the third time in five minutes. Yes, I’ve asked her the same question twice already. I don’t care. The guys are playing a game of pool and I’m sitting at the bar while Ashton makes up a tray of shots for our group. She’s not working but she also refuses to let anyone else make her shots. She’s a bit of a control freak.
“Yes, I’m sure. Still. I told you, Piper is bringing her. Geez, you’d think you were about to declare your love to the girl or something.” I swing my head around to stare at Ashton, my mouth agape, and hers posed in a telling smile.
“Jameson has a very big mouth.”
“Yes, he does. You should know better than to tell him anything you don’t want any of us to know. Ah, looks like you’re up, loverboy. Don’t fuck this up or I’ll cut off your dick and feed it to the coyotes.”
I spin in the chair and watch as Minnie and Piper walk through the door. Piper is looking around the room trying to find our group, but my eyes only see Minnie. She looks nervous and that’s not like her. She’s hung around everyone enough that she shouldn’t be nervous. Unless, she’s worried about seeing me. She still hasn’t responded to my text messages from this morning.
From where I sit, I can freely watch her as she smiles at Piper when she leans in and says something. Piper spots the gang in the corner by the pool tables and begins walking toward everyone with Minnie close on her heels. Speaking of heels, she’s wearing tall red ones that have me thinking all kinds of very dirty thoughts. I catch a glimpse of her beautiful ass as she disappears into the crowd. My dick twitches in my pants in
anticipation of what I hope is a long night of making up.
I turn back around and flag down Taylor, ordering two dirty martinis with extra olives. Hopefully a dirty martini will soften the attitude I’m sure to get from Minnie. Walking toward the group, I watch as they all toss back a shot and Minnie shakes her head. One of the reasons Ashton makes her own shots is because she likes them strong. And, Washington Apples are her favorite. I’m glad I missed out on that. I watch as Ashton picks up the remaining shot, my shot, and holds it up toward me before tossing it back. As she does, Minnie turns my direction and I smile.
“Hey,” I say while holding one of the martinis out to her. She hesitates, but if I know one thing my girl can’t resist, it’s a dirty martini with extra olives.
My girl.
“Hi.” Her voice is timid as she takes the sword of olives and stirs her drink before pulling it to her lips, lips painted red tonight. The same ones I’ve envisioned wrapped around my dick. The color matches the fuck me heels she’s wearing and I swear to God it is taking everything for me to not throw her over my shoulder and walk out of this bar.
The group has disbursed to the other side of the pool table. I know they’re all listening and watching. Nosy bastards. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You didn’t respond to my texts.”
“I deleted them.”
“Why?” I ask, stepping closer to her and placing my glass on the bar height table next to her. The movement puts me directly in front of her, pinning her between me and the wall. Her breath hitches.
“I didn’t want to read them.”
“Again, why?” My hand moves to her arm and she shivers.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“Do what?”
She sighs in frustration before taking a drink of her martini. A very long drink that almost finishes it off more like a shot than a cocktail. Minnie peers over to where the girls are standing but neither are paying attention. Well, I think they are paying attention, they’re just pretending not to be.
Martinis & Moonlight (A Country Road Novel - Book 3) Page 23