Did he just come on to me? I clutch my bag a little tighter.
“Twentieth floor,” the mechanical voice intones, saving me from responding. The elevator doors slide open and I step through, determined to keep this appointment all business. Between Evan being Evan and Linden being a bull, I can’t deal with another man, even a nice one. I unlock the glass entry door and lead him inside.
“As you can see, the space is raw. It’s a blank canvas for your firm to do anything they want.” My heels click the floor as I move around.
He paces from one side to the other, taking in the details: the wide plank floors, the enormous brick archways, and the exposed beam ceilings. His heavy steps echo in the open space. His shoe heels scrape when he pauses and turns in a circle.
“The size is great. Love the natural light.” He peers through one of the large windows. “And the view of the lake and city is magnificent.”
“Imagine looking at that every day.” I join his side and glance out. Sunshine reflects off the bright blue water. A few sailboats dot Lake Michigan, claiming their last days of fun before the weather changes.
“I can imagine,” he murmurs.
When I lift my gaze James is staring at me. My eyes dart to the floor. My mind fumbles to point out another feature, and I step away. “Um... over here in this corner would be a great for the conference rooms and kitchen buildouts.”
“I’m sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable? It’s just when I see something beautiful, I like to admire it.”
I pause and turn to him. He remains at the window. His shape silhouettes against the angelic light pouring into the room. My hands twist at my sides. When I don’t respond, he approaches. As he does, his face becomes clearer. His expression’s serious. Until a few weeks ago I hadn’t even kissed a guy that I could remember, and now this? I clasp my hands at my stomach and take a breath.
“No,” I answer though it’s not factual. “You only caught me off guard. The truth is I don’t believe in mixing work and pleasure.”
He stops before me but not too close. Maybe he senses my vulnerability. He slides his hands into his pockets. “That’s a shame, because that’s all I can think about with you.”
“But you don’t even know me.”
“I would like to know you better, Cait, and I’d like to take you out sometime.”
His admission is too much. I look beyond him and out the window, searching for an appropriate response. I cannot deny I’m attracted to him. After a moment I find my voice and lift my gaze to his. “I’m flattered but we shouldn’t, considering we’re working on this deal.”
“Then let’s finish this as fast as we can.” He lightens the mood, and I chuckle.
Our appointment continues without another mention of our exchange, but he does his best to charm me, despite my rejection. By the end of the day, I’ve shown him two potential properties, and we arrange a future appointment to see more.
The next day I’m in the office answering emails when Aggie strolls in. Her petite arms hug a vase of flowers. The fall foliage reaches so wide it covers her entire upper body. Only a few slivers of wayward curls remain visible. She leans to one side, peeking around a golden sunflower and asks, “How’d your appointment with Mr. Hot Stuff go?”
“Fine. But more importantly, kudos to Paul, or is it Adam, for sending you flowers?” I lean back in my chair to assess her while rolling a pen between my fingers. “Judging by your triumphant smile, it looks like someone’s getting lucky tonight.”
“Oh someone’s getting lucky, but it’s not me.” She steps forward, sets the bouquet down, and circles my desk. She sits on the edge, facing me. Her legs swing as she plucks the card from the arrangement.
She reads aloud, “Cait, please forgive me. I love you. Signed, Lou.” She fastens me to her gaze and raises a questioning brow.
I rub my pencil over my chin. Did Lou send these from Europe as a joke? It’s unlikely. I lean in and swipe the card from her fingers. I lift it and read.
Cait,
Dinner at Dalton’s the night we close the deal?— James.
I smack her arm with the card for the lie, but my anxiety settles in. She’s going to jump all over this. I stand up and move across the room.
“I read a hell of a tale from Lou via text.” She shakes her cell in my direction. “You forgot to tell me about your fake romance.”
And because she needs to gloat she says, “And I told you James wanted to rub your naughties together.”
I read the card again. Even though these flowers aren’t from Lou, there’s a painful knot forming in my throat because I’m wishing they were from someone else. I don’t want my heart to dawdle there but it does.
“James asked me out. I told him no.” I rip the card in half and toss it in the waste bin. I’m struggling to understand how he thinks I left the door open. I’m pretty sure I told him no. Or, at least, I think I did. Being put on the spot made me nervous, and now I can’t recall our exact exchange. Not that I know what I’m doing. So it wouldn’t be surprising if I sent the wrong signals. I drop into my seat, slumped back, and swivel in a circle, blowing hot air.
“Are you sure your rejection doesn’t have anything to do with your love affair with Lou?” She laughs.
I spin my chair one more time before stopping to face her. “I was going to tell you about that—soon-ish.” I wince.
“Really?”
I grip the armrests and nod.
She pops her lips and glances at her cell screen. She reads aloud, “Louie, if anyone asks, we were dating until the other week. Got it? Thanks, kissy emoji, Cait.”
She sets her phone aside but then shoots me her start-explaining eyes.
“It’s a long story,” I huff, remembering the night I lied about Lou. “And it may have a little something to do with Evan.”
Aggie throws a handful of paper clips at my forehead. They land in my hair and stick to my sweater.
“Why are you keeping things from me?” she yelps.
I give her a sad face. If she only knew the extent of the things I keep from her.
She hops to stand, jabbing her hands into her hips. A blue fire blazes behind her eyes, “So what, Abalicious Evan turned you down. You poor thing.”
“How did you know that?” I sit up in my seat, eyes widening. I’d wanted to keep that detail from her.
“Cait, when will you learn? When there’s something amiss, I always find out. But look here.” She points to the flowers. “Now you can get over Evan by having fun with Mr. James Henley. This is the sex buffet we talked about. It’s time to eat up.”
I roll my eyes and slink back into my seat, waiting for the inquisition.
“Tell me. Now,” she insists and plops into the chair across from me. She anchors her purple combat boots on my desk and leans back, getting comfortable.
I moan and reluctantly fill her in on the details. I tell her about my dinner with Evan, about how he thought I was dating Lou and seemed jealous so I went with it, about how I suggested a one-night stand. One in which he suggested I couldn’t handle it. Nor did he need a girlfriend. I regale her with the very confusing run Evan and I took, where we continued to flirt despite everything. I end the story with James asking me out. So now she knows everything—almost.
“The issue is I want more with Evan.” I lean into my desk. My fingertip traces the edge of my keyboard.
“That’s your problem, right there.” She points in accusation.
“What?”
“You want the unavailable. Unavailable is safe.” Aggs drops her feet to the floor with a thump, leans forward, and pounds the desk with her fist. It rattles my computer, the vase, and a cup of colored pens.
“I don’t want safe? I’m pretty sure I want safe.” I crinkle my brow.
“It’s safe for you because you can’t attain Evan. You never have to open up if you’re never with anyone. And don’t think I don’t know why you’re doing this. It’s because of whatever you’re running away from at
home.” Her hand swings wild.
At this I straighten, arms and back rigid. Here we go. She’ll demand I tell her everything. I suck in my lips, locking them.
Seeing my reaction, she says, “Don’t worry. I know nothing—yet—only that there’s something. Why do you think I have a spare key to your apartment? I need to snoop somehow.”
“That’s why?” My voice squeezes.
“Duh.” Aggie’s hands rise with a dramatic beat.
Her admission startles me for a moment but when I consider it closer, I find I don’t care. There’s nothing in my apartment for her to find. It’s not like I keep mementos from the worst day in my life.
There are crates of old photos at my parents’ home. I studied them once, hoping it would make me remember. For each homecoming photo, each vacation, each family member I should have connected to, those people might as well have been a stock photo.
Aggie would find out about me if she dug online, which she might have already, but there have to be a million Cait Londons, and I don’t use social media. I’ve wanted to remain incognito, not only from everyone here, but also from my family.
When I don’t answer she says, “Fine. Don’t tell me. But we’ll talk about this eventually.”
I nod, becoming morose. I pick at my chipped gray nail polish. “I promise. I’m just not ready. Still figuring things out myself, okay?”
“It’s fine. But this guy thing isn’t. To me you’re afraid of something real, and Evan is never going to be real. Because real means you would have to share your mystery past. Which is why I thought you could handle some booty calls. It’s right up your alley. Love them and leave them. Move on with your boring life.”
She’s right, and I tell her so. Which makes her leave me alone. Something else I need. The remainder of my workday is a blur of replaying Aggie’s reasonable observation of my life. Even if she’s right, there’s a stubborn part of me that can’t let this Evan thing go. Is it because I don’t like to lose when challenged? Is it because I have a crush like some teenage obsession? I can’t be sure. But I need to see it through until I find some sense of closure. It might only mean we become friends, or I can pass him in the hall without thinking of our kiss. In a few weeks this could pass.
As for James? I do like him but my stance remains the same. This is what I intend to tell him. My nervous hand hovers over the phone on my desk. In a rush of bravery, I swipe the handset and press it to my ear. Quick fingers dial his number. There’s a half ring before he answers. I hold my breath.
CHAPTER 13
“Well, hello. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.” James’s honey-smooth voice cracks with delight. His reaction alone brings sunshine to my face. It can’t be helped.
“Every woman in the office is jealous over these flowers. They’re magnificent. Thank you.” I trace the outline of the numbers on the phone with my index finger.
“They’re not jealous of the flowers; they’re jealous of you. You’re magnificent.”
My cheeks flame from his compliment, and I inch closer to the telephone’s base. James makes conversation easy. Too easy. He’s honest and straightforward. It’s a far cry from Evan, who complicates the smallest things. None of his actions match his words. He’s confusing at a minimum. Frustrating at his worst.
“You’re not making what I have to say easier, you know?” My toes tense and I lift my heels from the floor.
“Damn, is today still not my day?” he teases.
“I’m afraid not.” My teeth snag my bottom lip. I wish I had it in me to agree.
“Maybe another time.” He accepts this rejection again and with class. Maybe it’s because of the waver of uncertainty in my voice or the fact that he’s just a nice guy. I’m thankful for whatever the reason.
“I’m standing by my original answer.”
“In that case, I’ll make it my goal to dazzle you until you can’t say no.” My lips crack into a smile. It sounds like he’ll enjoy the challenge, and with the unexpected twirl in my stomach, I can’t say I won’t like the attention.
“Have a nice day, James.”
“You too, Cait.”
The line clicks, ending the call. I drop the headset on the base. When I remove my hand, it’s cramped from clenching the phone too tight. I lean back in my chair and spin, watching the ceiling turn. I think I’m giddy for the unbelievable fact that someone likes me. Me! And he’s nice, handsome, and normal. It’s not from the person I want, but it’s nice to be appreciated in a romantic way.
***
After work I climb the stairs to my apartment as I flip through junk mail. At hearing heavy breathing, floorboards cracking, and garbled laughter, I pause outside Mrs. Venti’s apartment.
Reversing my step and rolling back on my heel, I peer through her open door. She and an older man wearing a fuzzy brown robe are standing in the middle of her living room. Both have VR glasses strapped to their faces. They’re whooping, jumping, and clawing at the air in the general direction of the largest flat-screen TV I’ve ever seen.
I place a hand over my mouth to staunch a giggle when they spaghetti-arm the air and swing their hips. Just as Mrs. Venti begins to remove her glasses, I scurry on, not wanting to get caught spying.
When I reach my apartment, I’ve pushed the unexpected scene out of my mind for another distraction. My door’s open. Again. Evan must be here, finally fixing the shower. As I think it, a repetitious banging noise flows into the hallway.
I step inside the living room and abandon my bag on the couch before rushing to the nearest mirror. With a few quick swipes of my fingers, I control the tangles in my hair. I apply lipgloss, pinch my cheeks until they’re pink, and adjust my boobs higher in my bra beneath my sweater, though I see little change in the effort. Before I step away I give myself a once-over.
Tonight I plan to enact a scheme that’s been formulating since the night we kissed, but also the scheme my whispers have been laughing at. The one they insist will never win me Evan’s attention. Regardless of what they say, by the time I’m done with him, I want him begging to take back his rejection.
I pivot with determination for round whatever-number-we’re-on-now but only make it a few steps before stumbling over the corner of the area rug. I’m airborne and in slow motion before I can stop myself. Arms fly forward. Fingers spread for impact. My mouth opens and I squeal. Palms and bent knees break my fall, but I still face-plant with a loud thwack!
The clanking from the bathroom halts.
I wince, laid out flat, nose pressed into the carpet, knees sore from a rug burn, and grit my teeth from the pain. I roll over on my back but remain there for a few moments, allowing the aches to pass before lifting myself upright. Evan begins working again, and I sigh with relief.
Crisis averted.
This hiccup has me shaking out my hands and pacing to kill my extra energy. Perhaps it’s best to play it cool like I did the other night? Continue with the friends route?
Clearly the opportunity to be around Evan sends me into a panic mode. The more I allow my thoughts to run wild, the more I’m certain our flirty run was a fluke. Dumb luck on my part rather than a plan I should build on.
No. I shake my head, needing to fight my negativity and stay on course. Looking back, I’ve realized since the first day we met, he’s flirted, teased, and thrown his cocky attitude around, just enough to pluck at my nerves while toeing the line of friend and foe. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t maddening and exhilarating all at once.
I lift my chin, stand tall, and smooth out my skirt before heading down the hall with renewed determination. My heart’s beating erratically at the decision to play his game. To be aggressive, be flirty, and if possible, be sexy and desirable. If he can do those things to me, I can do them to him.
I feel alive. And nauseous. I focus on alive. My revived sense of confidence turns my indecisive steps into a strut. When I reach the door, Evan’s where I hoped he’d be, leaning over the tub fixing the hot water handle
. Or he’s trying to.
“Took you long enough to show up.” I prop myself against the doorframe, knotting my arms. I’ve been showering Arctic-style for too long. Just thinking about it causes me to shiver and squeeze my arms tighter.
“I thought a few cold showers would do you some good after the other night.” He adjusts his attention to me with a grin, but his gaze falls from my face and lands on my heels. There his focus travels up my legs and catches at my hips and pauses. After leaving him questioning if I wear panties, I hoped he might want to find out the truth for himself, and it appears he does.
You’re going down, Evan Wade. I twist my lips.
I resist the urge to react to his jab and ask, “Almost done?”
“Just finishing up.” He returns to his work. From here the shower appears fixed, but when he reaches to turn the knob to test it, water violently sprays in all directions. It shoots across the room, and I jump back to avoid it. Evan leaps into the tub to fight the deluge, but all I can do at this point is laugh. Thank you, Karma!
After a few obscenities Evan scurries on hands and knees to cut off the water at the main valve under the sink. Drenched, he slumps back against the tub, eyes closed, appearing defeated.
This is when I take the chance to do something crazy. Something I would only do in a secret fantasy in my mind, but this time, I do it for real. It’s not part of the plan, but I go with it, regardless.
“Here.” With a shaky hand I offer him something to dry himself. I hold my breath as he takes it and rubs it in a circle around his face. When his eyes are clear, he looks down at his hands to inspect the fuzzy fabric.
“What’s this?”
I allow him to determine the answer on his own. When he does, the realization shows on his face. His mouth drops open and his head snaps to me. His darkening gaze settles on my lacy black bra, the new one I bought Sunday afternoon. I have no idea what gave me the idea, but I gave him the sweater off my back. So now I’m standing here in heels, a pencil skirt, and a lacy bra trying my best to look sexy.
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