“Sure. You know, even after all these years I’ll never understand how you can drink it black, it’s like sludge.” I take a sip of my coffee, grateful for the fact that it doesn’t taste like sludge.
“And I’ll never understand how you can be afraid of clowns,” he mocks.
I nearly choke on a laugh, spitting some coffee onto the sidewalk. When I finally compose myself, I look over at Caleb. “I told Fran.”
“What?” Surprise muddles the gray in his eyes. “I thought I was the only one who knew your darkest secrets.” He presses a hand to his chest. “I’m deeply wounded.”
I chuckle, handing my key to the valet. “I can’t help it. She coaxed it out of me with her charm.”
He smirks and swallows some of the sludge. “Charm, huh?” He pauses, releasing a hard sigh. “I miss your sister, man. She had balls and was such a great partner in crime growing up. Remember when she and I let the air out of old Mrs. Crowley’s tires because she used to bat us away with her broom if we stepped on her lawn. She might as well have been riding that broom,” he jokes, letting out a laugh. “Mrs. Crowley found out it was us and threatened to tell our parents but I told her it was all my idea. I didn’t want Clara to get in trouble.”
“Yeah, you roped Clara into quite a few of your stunts.”
“There was no roping involved. She came willingly,” he replies, a reminiscent smile on his lips, laughter no longer mixed with his words. “I could’ve loved her.” His voice fades into the distance, almost to a hum that’s difficult to hear. “I think I did love her.”
“What?” I ask, completely taken aback by his admission. I knew he and Clara were as thick as thieves but I always thought of them as siblings. On the other hand, it was impossible not to love her.
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter,” he says, trying hard to shake it off. Caleb’s eyes flicker with sadness. “I can only imagine how much you miss her. She was something else. So damn feisty.”
“Yeah. I do miss her. I think about her all the time.” My thoughts veer immediately to Fran. “Fran reminds me a lot of my sister, at least in attitude.”
His melancholy shifts to humor as he lets his briefcase drop to the ground. “Let’s talk about Fran for a moment, shall we?” he says with a mischievous grin, rubbing his hands together. “So…can I assume that the reason you look like shit today is because you spent the night with her?”
I try not to sound too disappointed when I respond. “That would be an incorrect assumption.” A frustrated sigh escapes just as the valet pulls my car around. I ask him to remove the key fob from the ignition before I launch it at Caleb and he deftly catches it with his free hand. “Wanna drive?”
He shuffles back a step, a tentative smile building as my words sink in. “Is this a joke?”
“No. I’m working on not being such a tight-ass. Hurry up and make a decision before I change my mind.”
“Hell yeah!” he exclaims with so much excitement I’m starting to second-guess my spontaneity.
He hands me his coffee, snatches up his briefcase and practically pole vaults into the driver’s seat. “I like the effect that girl has on you. You need to keep her glued to your side.”
Not a bad idea.
I shut the door and Caleb inserts the key fob into the ignition. “Just one minor detail I forgot to mention.” My voice feigns irritation. “If you crash my car, you won’t live to see tomorrow. No pressure, though.”
My comment has little effect on him as he revs the engine with purpose and takes off toward the office.
The SVP made the right decision calling us into the office today. The Winkler project is in complete disarray and Caleb and I need to put our heads together and take care of it. There’s no disputing we’re a great team. Caleb is not only smart, but he has an uncanny ability to leave no stone unturned when it comes to the structure and safety of a building. Couple that with my ability to translate thoughts into vision and issue resolution, and we’re unstoppable.
After regrouping the designers and projects managers, Caleb and I split up and get to work. I won’t deny I’m distracted…in a big way. My mind is not a hundred percent on this project. It’s probably a 70/30 split, which is not good considering the seventy percent is on a woman. A woman who in nine days will be out of my life. I heave a sigh and bring a hand to my forehead, knocking half a cup of coffee onto the blueprint. Shit.
Once I’ve managed to clean up the mess, I take a minute to look around my office. Two burgundy leather couches are settled across from one another in front of a large oval window overlooking LA. A rich, mahogany table sits in between them with eight Architecture Today and Architecture Week magazines in a straight line. A floor to ceiling bookcase takes up the far wall, each book neatly arranged without a gap to be found. Pictures of buildings we’ve constructed hang on the opposite wall, strategically placed to give the best visual effect. I get up from my walnut desk and walk over to the coffee table, take one of the magazines and toss it on top of another haphazardly. I force myself to go back to my desk while clenching and unclenching my fists, the pull to return the magazine to its original spot is strong, but I resist as best I can…for now.
I lean back in the chair with my hands behind my head, propping my legs up on the desk, crossing them at the ankles. As I stare out the looking glass to the city, my mind drifts to Fran. The way her soft lips moved against mine, the feel of her silky hair threaded through my fingertips, the glimmer in her eyes just before we kissed. I can’t wait to see her again. A rap on the door snaps me from my thoughts.
“Hey, man, I just need to talk to you about the fire escape routes for the new building,” Caleb says upon entering my office. He drops the plans on my desk and takes the chair across from it, folding his hands in his lap and kicking his legs up onto the wood. “What are you doing? From the looks of it, I’d say you’re daydreaming, and just so you know, that’s a chick thing to do.”
“Caleb,” I say grinning, “what would I do without your comic relief?”
“Lead a rather boring life,” he states confidently, clasping his fingers together and stretching his arms above his head.
“Precisely.”
My phone dings with an incoming text and I smile when I see it’s from Fran.
Thank you for the beautiful flower.
My fingers get busy on the keypad.
Don’t mention it, sunshine.
Her response comes instantly.
I just did.
I shake my head with a smirk and Caleb eyes me curiously while I type back a response.
Still feisty I see. Save that for tonight.
When I don’t get anything in return, I imagine her sitting there trying to come up with something clever but I don’t wait.
I like when I can render you speechless…see you later.
As I flip the phone onto my desk, I look up to find Caleb glaring at me with an expectant smile.
“Well?”
“It was Fran. She was thanking me for something I left for her this morning.”
He slides his chair forward, inching closer to the desk. “And what would that be?” he prods.
“It’s no big deal. I just left her a flower,” I say quickly, brushing it off as unimportant when I know damn well it feels anything but, and Caleb knows it, too.
“A flower? Interesting.” He studies me, one brow cocked in amusement.
“That’s it. That’s all you’ve got for me.”
“Yup…for now.” He grins before standing up and heading for the door. “I’m going to get some more sludge. I’ll be back in a bit when you can concentrate on the task at hand.”
That might be never at the rate I’m going.
I look down at my chipped nail polish, not due from wear and tear, but simply from the incessant picking at it all day during the conference. I might as well be back in Mr. Shanley’s classroom my freshman year of high school, doodling Matt’s name on my notebook. That’s exactly what this feels like. The way my hea
rt speeds up at the thought of him, the way my palms get just a tiny bit sweaty when I’m about to feel his hand on mine, the way my body buzzes when he gets close to me. I love it but at the same time I don’t know what the hell I’m doing and that scares me to death. Needing a distraction, I do what I should’ve done days ago. I call Mom.
She answers on the first ring and I smile, knowing how much she lives for my phone calls, always needing to make sure that I’m happy and well. “Fran, honey, I’m so thrilled to hear your voice! How are you?”
“I’m good, Mom. I actually have a surprise for you,” I say, suddenly realizing I’m just as overjoyed about seeing her and can’t wait to tell her that I’m here in California.
“What kind of a surprise? Are you engaged?” she asks, her voice taking on a whole new level of excitement.
“No, Mom.” I laugh out loud at how crazy that sounds. “I’m not engaged. But…I am in Los Angeles for a conference and I’m going to fly you out so we can spend the day together.”
“That’s wonderful, honey!” she practically shouts through the phone. “Except I’m not home, I’m actually in Santa Barbara visiting my friend Vivian.”
“Even better. Then I’ll drive to Santa Barbara to see you. I think that’s only a little over an hour from here.” The thought of seeing Mom brings a smile to my face. We haven’t seen each other in nine months and I could use one of those hugs that only she can provide. “How about tomorrow, Mom? I’ll leave the conference a bit early, say around noon, and then I could drive out and we can have lunch together.”
“I would love that, sweetie. Oh,” she says, her voice filled with warmth, “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me, too, Mom. I’ll pick a restaurant and then text you the address. I’m going to rent a car and then I’ll head out when we break for lunch.”
She sighs heavily into the phone. “I’m so glad you called. You’ve made my whole day. Wait until I tell Vivian I’m seeing my baby tomorrow.”
I giggle and hop on the bed. “Yup. Your twenty-eight year old baby. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mom.”
“Okay. Love you and drive safe.”
“I will. Love you, too.”
I hold the phone to my chest and smile, the idea that I’ve made Mom happy brings me a sense of joy. She’s had so little to be happy about over the years and I really want things to be different for her. Although she’s much better now, knowing Dad can no longer harm her and she doesn’t have to live in the shadow of fear, she still works two jobs and sometimes finds it hard to make ends meet. He beat her down until she lost her drive, first to live, and then later to pursue her dream of being a legal secretary, so she continued working at various restaurants and hair salons without ever looking back.
An audible sigh fills the air around me before I go back to obsessing about the evening ahead. Without a clue as to where we’re going, I dig in the closet to find something to wear. The decision is made for me once I spot the emerald green wrap dress, knowing the way it makes my eyes pop and how much Matt likes it when I look at him, or at least that’s what he said. “Fran, open your eyes.” The smooth, yet commanding tone of his voice went right through me and I shudder, even now. Plus, who am I kidding? I love looking into his eyes. Aside from the fact that they’re absolutely captivating, a smoldering blue I’m unable to turn away from, there’s a normal there and I don’t know if I’ve ever felt normal, but I desperately want to.
The clock reads 6:30 p.m. and after taking a few more glances in the hand-carved, full-length mirror, I shuffle to the bathroom to put on some makeup. I apply a couple sweeps of mascara and a hint of blush to pink my cheeks, but go heaviest on my lip gloss where it matters most. Perhaps I’ll get a kiss out of the deal.
Now for the verdict on the shoes. It’s a toss-up between the black or the green strappy sandals, and I opt for black. The green would be way too much and I don’t want to look like a leprechaun.
A ding signals an incoming text and I jump hurdles to get to it. It’s from Matt.
I’m coming for you.
The authoritative way he’s written that has my skin immediately covered in goose bumps. How can I get turned on from a text? Yes, my mind is seriously in the gutter. I can’t help myself. There’s something about the way he says things, an undercurrent of something sexual mixed with control. I know from what he’s told me that he has a need for control and I have to wonder if it extends to all areas of his life. I can only imagine it does.
I’m nearly jumping out of my skin and this feeling hasn’t left me all day. I’ve been fidgety and restless and now I’m biting my lip so hard I might just draw blood. I need to get a grip.
I text Peyton to let her know Matt and Caleb are on their way and she responds by telling me she’s running late and still primping. This boggles my mind because Peyton doesn’t need to do much of anything to look gorgeous. It comes naturally.
The glow illuminating the room from the city lights attracts my attention and I walk over to the window to admire the view, lost in the colorful haze until I hear the knock I’ve been waiting for all day. I take a couple of quick breaths and wring my hands out, releasing one final puff of air before I open the door.
Matt’s propped up against the doorframe, a lopsided smile alights his face. “Hey, you.”
“Hey,” I whisper, and I’m struck dumb because not only does he look incredibly handsome, but his smile warms my insides and all my previous tension has been washed away.
“You look stunning,” he says, as he artfully scans my body with appreciation, moving over the threshold of the door and standing close to me. “Did you think about me today?”
“Eh,” I respond, taking my thumb and forefinger and pinching them together while doing my best to fight back a smile. But I did think about him more than I’m willing to admit and the realization hits me hard. That’s why I’ve been so on edge even though I can’t tell him that.
“Well, I thought about you,” he says in a low voice, “a lot.” He toys with a strand of my hair before gently pushing it behind my ear, pausing to stroke my cheek with his fingers, my skin heats at the contact and I want more. His head dips down and he brushes his lips against mine, once, twice, and then slips past the seam of my mouth to caress my tongue and I sigh into him, loving the feel of his mouth on mine. He weaves his hands through my hair, holding me in place until his kiss becomes softer and he lets go of me completely. “I think we should go,” he says, his tone hoarse, and I can tell he’s trying to maintain his composure.
“Where are we going?” I ask, aware of his fingers that just linked with mine to lead me out the door.
“There’s a bar down on Sunset called The Grand that we thought we’d try out. It opened last year but since I don’t get out much, I haven’t been there.”
“Don’t get out much, huh?” I laugh, giving him a shoulder bump.
“Well, when my movie collection calls…it’s hard to resist,” he replies on a shrug.
I press the call button for the elevator and say a couple of silent prayers for a smooth ride. “It’s a good thing I’m here then, you need a little excitement in your life.”
“I’m starting to think it’s a very good thing,” he says, and my eyes dart to his, a gleam of sincerity radiating off of them, but then he smirks. “And, I did re-arrange my magazines today.”
“What?”
“Never mind.” He snickers at his own private joke and removes his hand from mine to shake off whatever it is, leaving me to wonder what he meant by that comment.
“So how did everything go with your project today?” I ask once we walk on the elevator, a clear attempt to distract myself from the ride down to the lobby.
“It went okay. We’ve still got quite a bit of work to do, but we’ll get it done.” Matt’s got a wicked grin on his face and I need to know what’s behind it.
“What’s the look for? Something you need to get off your chest?” I ask, pushing my hair over my shoulder.
“It w
as hard today. I was distracted,” he admits, suddenly unable to meet my eyes.
I cock a brow, placing a hand on my hip. “I bet,” I tease with a flirtatious smile, thankful he can’t see my gaze raking over his body.
“Let’s go, feisty,” he says, as the elevator doors open to the lobby and we spot Peyton and Caleb just beyond the entrance to the hotel.
“Hey, kids,” I utter once we get outside, interlocking arms with Caleb and Peyton as Matt waits on the valet. “Ready to party?”
“I’m always ready to party,” Caleb retorts, “and I heard this bar we’re going to is pretty hoppin’. It’ll be a bit of a change from Manhattan, but I think you’ll like it. LA is where it’s at, after all.”
“Ha!” Peyton returns his jab. “Dream on. New York City is where it’s at. You guys should know that.”
When the car comes into view, she leans over to whisper in my ear. “Sit in the back with me, okay.”
I nod and when Matt opens the door for me, I point to the back seat with my finger. “I’m going to sit in the back with Peyton. You know, girl time,” I add.
“Okay,” he responds, but drags a hand through his hair and presses his lips together tightly, in disappointment maybe?
He closes the door behind me and as soon as it shuts I turn to Peyton. “So what’s up? Are you okay?”
“Caleb turn up the music,” she says, before focusing her attention back on me. “So remember that guy Nick I dated, the son of my mom’s friend? Well, I guess he’s been looking for me. My mom called and said he came around for a visit and asked about me. You know how my mom just adored him,” she says sarcastically. “Lawyer, loaded, comes from a well-to-do family, none of which I’m interested in. I keep telling her I can make my own money. Do you know what she said to me?” Her nostrils flare and she fists her hands in her lap. “She said, ‘how much money do you expect to make as a graphic designer?’ To which I replied, ‘Design Manager, Mom.’ Ugh. She’s so annoying.”
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