Wanted by Him (Wanted Series #1)

by Kelly, Hazel

  The corner of my mouth lifted into a smile.

  "Seriously," she said. "I know a thing or two about lost marbles."

  "More than I ever want to know I'm sure."

  "Do you know what you want already?" she asked, scanning the menu.

  "I'm ready whenever you are."

  "Shame they don't have fish fingers," she said, leaning back in her chair.

  I furrowed my brow. "Is that what you want? Cause if it is, we should’ve gon-"

  "That was a joke, Addison. I'm kidding."

  "Oh, right," I said, realizing that was probably the last thing she wanted.

  "You need to lighten up, honey."

  I took a deep breath. "Tell me about it."

  "I mean it," she said, looking me in the eyes. "I've never seen you so tightly wound."

  I pursed my lips.

  "And you know what happens to things that are too tightly wound."

  I raised my eyebrows. "What?"

  "They unravel," she said. "They're bound to."

  Chapter 5: Wyatt

  I made a noise like Chewbacca when I answered the phone.

  "Wyatt?"

  "One sec," I mumbled, leaning over the sink to spit. Then I rinsed my mouth out, ran the toothbrush under the tap, and raised the phone back up to my head. "What's up?"

  "What was that about?" Austin asked. "You sounded like you were drowning."

  "Brushing my teeth."

  "I see."

  "So how's it going?"

  "Does the carefree attitude I'm sensing mean you didn't sell the song?"

  I was about to sit on the edge of the tub when I realized I didn't want the bad news echoing around the bathroom so I stepped into the bedroom and took a seat on the end of the bed. "The carefree attitude is because it's such a treat to hear from my big brother," I said. "But no. They didn't buy the song."

  "That's bullshit, man. What kind of clowns are making these decisions?"

  I shrugged. "I don't know. You only get to meet the clowns if they like your stuff."

  "Sorry, Wyatt."

  "It's okay."

  "Maybe the movie business isn't the place for you," he said. "Maybe you should just go back to cranking out pop songs."

  “Thanks for the support."

  "I didn't mean it like that. C'mon. You know I think you're a genius."

  "I always thought that, too, but I'm starting to think maybe I’m just the handsome one."

  Austin laughed. "If it makes you feel better, you can be the handsome one."

  "I don’t think I need your permission," I said. "I think it's just a fact."

  "Whatever. Anyone special tickling your handsome fancy these days or are you still picking up sorority girls?"

  "That only happened once," I said. "And for the record, I’ll have you know she held one of the most important positions in her house."

  "Sounds like she talked your ear off about it all night."

  "Only when her mouth wasn't full."

  "Jesus," he said. "A straight yes or no would've been fine."

  "In that case, no, I haven't met anyone special, but-"

  "You're not looking."

  "That's right."

  "Is it right or is it just what you always say?"

  "Both."

  "And that's working for you, is it?" he asked. "Meaningless hook-ups at your age?"

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means you're going to have to settle down someday and-"

  "I don't believe in settling."

  "I don't think it matters if you believe in it or not. It’s the natural order of things."

  "No. What's natural is for me to sow my seed and enjoy my simple life the way it is."

  "If you say so."

  "I do."

  "But you're not in a boy band anymore, Wyatt. You have to grow up."

  "I'm plenty grown up as it is and you know damn well that a serious relationship isn't my priority right now."

  "I know, I know, but-"

  "You've been listening to Karen rant about me."

  "It's only because she cares about you."

  "Whatever."

  "And she doesn't do that much ranting," he said. "I actually think she plants the ideas in my brain at night while I'm sleeping so I don't have to think for myself."

  I rolled my eyes. "Well by all means, let me hurry up and get hitched so that I, too, can be relieved from my own thoughts."

  "I'm only passing it on because she ends up being right most of the time about these things-"

  "You mean everything?"

  "Yeah."

  "You are so whipped it's not even funny."

  "Is whipped the right word if I'm happy?"

  "Trust me. It's the right word in your case."

  "Still, she's usually right," he said. "But don't tell her I said that."

  "She's probably listening in on this call right now."

  "I'm sure she's not-"

  "You’re saying you think she can download thoughts into your head while you sleep, but you don't think she can tap your phone?"

  "I'm saying I didn't call to talk about me and the state of my happy marriage that you clearly resent."

  "I don’t resent your marriage," I said. "I just can't imagine ending up with someone that controlling.”

  “You mean smart?”

  “Sure,” I said, having convinced myself she was listening in. “But I love Karen. You know that.”

  "As do I," he said.

  "So why did you call?" I asked. “If it wasn’t to talk about how pussy whipped you are-”

  "I wanted to check what happened with the song first of all-"

  "And second?"

  "I was calling to see if you might be interested in doing a job for me."

  "I'm listening."

  "You remember that development in the Poconos?"

  "The one where we did all that landscaping two years ago?"

  "Yeah, Pine Island."

  "I remember."

  “I'm due to go up there and take care of some maintenance issues.”

  “What kind of issues?”

  “Nothing major. It’s basically just odd jobs. Painting, power washing, fixing a few porch railings- that kind of thing."

  "Uh-huh."

  "You want to do it?"

  "How long will it all take?"

  "For you?" he asked. "I'd say less than two weeks, part-time."

  "Why aren't you doing it?"

  "I’m trying to get another project off the ground outside Philly right now. Plus, Gigi's got a dance recital in Boston this weekend. Apparently it's a big deal, and I've been promised it's going to be far more exciting than all the other recitals put together."

  I laughed.

  "I can have one of my other guys do it if you want, but I thought you might enjoy getting some fresh air instead of being holed up in your studio."

  I pursed my lips and looked out my bedroom window towards the studio I erected in the backyard.

  "Obviously, I'll pay you," he said. "I know your time is valuab-"

  "I'll do it."

  "Yeah?"

  "Sure," I said. "Why not? I’ve got some time to myself for a change. Might be good for me." After all, working outside always made me feel relaxed and often improved my writing. Plus, Austin was always good for returning a favor."

  "Damn."

  "What?"

  He sighed. "Nothing. I'm just still coming around to the fact that there's no way I'm getting out of going to this marathon dance off crap."

  "Aww don't be like that," I said. "Gigi's so cute when she dances. Remember that time she waved at us right in the middle of her routine?"

  "Yeah, she's adorable. It's the other girls that are a chore, and they're going to be everywhere in all that horrible pink…"

  I laughed.

  "And I already know Karen and the other Moms are going to spend an ungodly amount of time talking about the costumes."

  "I'm sure there will be another dad ther
e who's willing to sneak off to the bar with you when Gigi's troupe isn't performing."

  "Christ, I hope so," he said. "I’ll need something strong to watch the older girls dance on their toes like they do. That’s just not right."

  "Someday you'll be glad you went," I said. "Anyway, do I need anything for this job that I don't have?"

  "Don't think so," he said. "But I'll send you a list later today so you can make sure you have all the right stuff."

  "Please do."

  "And Wyatt?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Sorry again about the song," he said. "But don't let it get you down. You'll get lucky soon. I’m sure of it."

  Chapter 6: Addison

  As I walked towards my boss's office, I realized I'd lost track of how many coffees I had that morning, and it wasn't even noon.

  I raised the back of my hand to my forehead. It was warm, but not sweaty, which was a relief considering there was no one I wanted to seem more cool headed in front of than Debbie.

  Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for my feet, which were sweating so profusely in my heels that it was a struggle to make sure my ankles didn't roll in either direction.

  When I reached Martine's desk, I waited while she finished her call and tried not to think about how badly I wanted to kick off my shoes. To distract myself, I prayed to God that if I could just keep from shaking for the five minutes I was talking to Debbie, I would do all sorts of charitable acts for the rest of my days on Earth.

  "Sorry about that, Addison," Martine said when she hung up the phone. Today's broach was a large peacock perched on one shoulder. Its intricate design was highlighted by a thin strip of blue eyeliner on Martine's top lashes.

  "No problem," I said, pointing towards the closed door behind her. "Is Debbie in her office? I believe she's expecting me."

  "She is, yes. Go on in," she said.

  "I like your broach by the way," I said, which wouldn't have been a complete lie if I were a broach person.

  "Thank you," she said, her warm smile interrupted by another call. She put her hand back on the phone. "And good luck in there."

  I nodded, grateful for the support but unnerved by the fact that my being up for a promotion was such common knowledge. After all, private failure was one thing. Failing in public was quite another.

  When my nose was several inches from the door, I took a deep breath and knocked purposefully, as if the advice to dress like the job you want extended to knocking as well.

  "Come in," Debbie said.

  She was looking down at her desk when I stepped in her office. By the time I closed the door and sat down, she’d said hello but hadn’t looked up.

  I crossed my legs at the ankles and rolled my shoulders back. And then it started again, the palpitations.

  "So," Debbie said, finally looking up at me. "You were being modest when you told me how your pitch to Johnson & Friggis went." Her severe black bob matched her expensive looking turtleneck, making her look even more swan like than usual.

  "Was I?" I asked, trying to ignore my erratic heartbeat.

  "I spoke with them this morning, and they were very complimentary of you."

  "That's nice," I said, trying to swallow the beating in my throat.

  "Sounds like you blew the competition out of the water."

  I raised my eyebrows. "Does that mean we got the job?"

  "It means you got the job."

  I tried to smile, but the intermittent pounding in my chest was making it hard for me to focus on what Debbie was saying.

  "Are you okay?" she asked.

  "Of course."

  "You look a little pale."

  "I'm fine."

  “Even paler than usual.”

  "I had too much coffee this morning."

  She laughed. "As long as it's nothing serious."

  I shook my head.

  "Anyway, that's the good news."

  I longed for my heart to beat again. "Is there bad news?"

  "Not bad news exactly," she said, pursing her bright red lips. "Just not the news I think you were hoping for."

  "Okay."

  "It's no secret that I think you should be promoted," she said, leaning back in her chair. "I think you've proven yourself time and time again."

  "Thanks," I said, folding my sweating hands in my lap. "That means a lot coming from you."

  "I know,” she said. “Unfortunately, a few of the partners think Chris deserves a little more time to try and prove himself."

  “Oh?”

  "So we won't be making any decisions just yet."

  I nodded and wondered if Chris had any life threatening allergies it might benefit me to know about.

  "But I still want you to lead your own team at J&F."

  "Really?"

  "Of course. They're your client. I have complete confidence in your- Addison… Addison."

  I inhaled sharply and realized I was slouching, clutching my chest with one hand and gripping the arm of the chair with the other.

  Debbie stood up and leaned forward. "Are you okay?!" She ran around her desk and crouched down beside me. "What's going on? Do I need to call an ambulance?"

  "No. No. Please. I'm fine," I said, trying to focus on my breathing.

  "You're not fine," Debbie said. "You're sweating." She stood up, walked around her desk, and reached for her phone.

  "Don't," I said, lifting a hand in the air. "I'm fine. I just got a fright. My heart-"

  "Your heart what?" she asked, cocking her head.

  "It's been acting up-"

  She picked up the phone. "You need to see a doctor."

  "I did," I said, straightening back up before her fingers hit the buttons.

  "Then you need to tell me what the hell is going on right now because you just scared the shit out of me," she said, setting the phone down and crossing her arms.

  "It's just palpitations," I said. "It's not serious."

  "I don't want your opinion," she said, raising her thin eyebrows. "I want to know what your doctor said."

  I could feel the fear rising up in me as my eyes started to water, like my stress was trying to liquefy through my tear ducts. There couldn't have been a worse time for me to choke.

  Suddenly, Debbie's face softened and she sat back down. "Just between us," she said, lowering her voice. "Please tell me what your doctor said."

  "It's only stress,” I said. “The doctor suggested my lifestyle was the problem and told me to take a break, but I'm not about to do that when I've just landed the biggest opportunity of my career."

  Debbie nodded slowly, folding her hands on the desk in front of her.

  "I've worked so hard for this," I said. "The last thing I want is to-"

  "When was the last time you took a vacation day?" Her eyes bounced back and forth between mine with such focus I knew only the truth would do.

  "March," I said. "In 2013."

  "And before that?"

  "The day after the company picnic in June."

  "What year?"

  "2012."

  She narrowed her eyes at me. "Didn’t I give everyone that day off?"

  I pursed my lips.

  Debbie took a deep breath through her nose and released it slowly.

  Meanwhile, I tried to subtly mop the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand, slipping my heels out of my shoes and savoring the cool air that spilled under my feet.

  "If your doctor says you need a break, I want you to take some time off."

  I shook my head.

  "This isn't negotiable," she said. "You wouldn't be the first person to burn out here, and I would be so disappointed to lose you when you have so much potential."