HIM

by J. M. Elliott

  "To close our meeting, I would like to invite all of you out tomorrow evening in celebration for landing the Christiansen account. Have a great rest of your night, everyone, and see you all in the morning!" Barrett states.

  The meeting ends, and we are all dismissed back to our offices.

  Chapter Fifty

  I rummage through the paperwork scattered across my desk, gathering it neatly and placing it in the middle of my desk to go over tomorrow morning. I grab my purse and head out of my office to Ris's.

  "Ali," Brady calls out from his office.

  What the hell does he want now? I toddle to his office and stand in the doorway.

  "Yes?" I reply, sort of crudely.

  He is sitting at his desk talking on his phone, giving me a "one-sec" finger. I roll my eyes at him and turn to walk away.

  "Would you like to get dinner with me tonight?" he asks, in a very charming and sweet voice.

  What the hell is going on here? Troy asked me, and now Brady is asking me. Ugh, Troy is relentless. I highly doubt Ris is in the mood to be around him tonight. I would rather avoid both these men and chill with Ris.

  "I believe Ris and I have other plans for this evening than accompanying you and Troy to dinner," I reply.

  He looks up at me, stands up from his desk, and walks toward me.

  "No, it's just going to be us," he says.

  "What? Why?" I ask, a little baffled.

  Why would he want to go to dinner with just me? He and Ris are a thing or were, I can never keep up with their on and off again crap, plus he usually takes out one of the cute little interns. He must have a motive; he is never overly friendly for no reason at all. What is he up to?

  "I just wanted to discuss the Christiansen account before you take a leave again. So, we are on the same page," he says, suspiciously casual, yet nonchalantly.

  Brady is fumbling behind his door through his filing cabinet as if he is of grave importance to everyone, and we all should bow down to him. I feel he may just be using this as an excuse to show off in front of me. I don't feel like talking about work outside of work, but I am taking a leave for up to three months. I will also be five hours away. Plus, this account is significant for the company, and he will physically be here working with my team.

  "Okay, sure. Where and when would you like me to meet you?" I ask.

  "I'll pick you up at six, be ready, " he replies.

  He shuts the light off then escorts me out the doorway of his office.

  "I can just meet you myself," I say again, more firmly.

  "As I said, I will pick you up," he says callously and walks past me.

  He is such an arrogant asshole. I should probably grab my project folder and the Christiansen's folder to go over what I have thus far for the account. It isn't much as we technically have not even started working on it yet. I wonder if I should call and invite them to dinner with us. They cannot stand Brady, so I am not too sure if it's that great of an idea.

  I shut the light off in my office after grabbing the folders I need and make my way to Ris's office, where Brady happens to be. He is standing in the doorway, and she's giving him her "I'm a tough cookie" stance while batting her "fuck me" eyes at him. I stop just outside her door, as he steps out to leave

  "See you tonight," he winks then walks away.

  Ish. I walk into Ris's office. I can see the piercing look in her eyes as she's ready to freak out on me for no reason at all.

  "See you tonight? What the fuck is that all about?" Ris asks in her bitchy, yet very annoyed voice.

  "He asked me to dinner to discuss the Christiansen account," I reply.

  "Hmm," she lets out unimpressed.

  Ris grabs her purse, then walks past me, and turns out the light to her office. I hate it when she acts like this. She gets all stupid jealous when she is not getting all the attention from a guy she wants to sleep with or is currently fucking. I ignore it and walk behind her until she gets over herself.

  "I need a new cocktail dress, and my nails did for tomorrow's dinner," Ris finally speaks as we are almost to the parking lot.

  "We're going to the mall. I suppose you need a new one too and to get those brows cleaned up. You're starting to look a little too country."

  And she's back from her little jealous bout over Brady taking me to dinner tonight. I ignore her comment about my eyebrows and continue walking. My phone rings, and I tell Ris that I will meet her at the mall. She gives me a stupid wave, then gets into her vehicle and drives off. I answer my phone.

  "Hi!"

  "Hey, Turtle! How are you?"

  "I'm good, just got off work. How was the shop today?" I ask.

  "It was pretty busy today. A lot of paint jobs and bodywork," he replies.

  Luke tells me about the Cadillac and how excited he is to be rebuilding the engine for it. He rambles on like a little kid explaining a story, and it is super cute. I've only spoken to him on the phone a handful of times, but I love to listen to him talk. His voice is so deep and unbelievably sexy over the phone. I wish we could talk for the rest of the day.

  "What's up tonight?" he asks.

  "I am going to dinner with one of my bosses to discuss details about a huge project I recently landed. Since I will be working from home, well my dad's for a while, I need to make sure my entire team is on the same page before I leave," I answer.

  "Wow, that's amazing! You're amazing," he states.

  Whenever he says this kind of stuff to me, I get all full of butterflies. I want to see him right now and rest my head against his chest. I wonder if he's shirtless with his hat backward. I swear whenever he looks like that, I instantly want to drop my panties.

  "I, uh, um... kind of miss you," he mutters. "I know it's stupid since you have only been gone for around eight hours or so."

  I smile big, all by myself in my car on the way to the mall.

  "No, it's not stupid. I feel the same way. I…"

  I hear a beep and see that Ris is calling from the other line.

  "Um... Ris is beeping in. She is waiting for me at the mall," I announce.

  "Okay, I am home now and need to hop in the shower anyway. I will text you later. Have a good time tonight!" He says.

  "Thank you, I'll try!" I reply.

  "Talk to you later, Turtle!"

  "Bye," I sigh.

  "Bye."

  Our call ends, and I switch over to Ris.

  "Hey!" I answer.

  "Where are you, bitch?" Ris shouts.

  "I'm pulling in now. I was talking to Luke when you called," I say.

  "Well, hurry the fuck up!" she demands.

  I park a few spots from Ris's car. She walks over to where I am and asks what Luke and I talked about then cuts me off mid-sentence, demanding I tell her about our sex and his horse cock. I chuckle and begin to tell her about the sex we had this morning and how it all started with me standing completely naked in front of the mirror in the bathroom. I tell Ris all the juicy details as we walk across the parking lot to the mall. Of course, she loves hearing every bit of it. Dirty whore!

  She trips over the curb and almost face plants into a bench near the mall entrance. We both shriek with laughter as I recall a similar incident happening at the cabin not too long ago, but sex was the culprit then. We try to talk in code language, so other passersby don't get weirded out by our inappropriate sexual monologue. Although, we usually get strange looks when we are in public regardless.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  We end up in the tenth store, looking at dresses that have prices tags the size of our rent, but Ris can afford it. I found my dress for tomorrow night's dinner party back at Macy's, which is way more my price range after I had my eyebrows waxed. The dress is a little out of my comfort zone, but Ris suggested that I need a dress to dine and dance in. Ris has an incredible fashion sense, and she knows how to stay on-trend. I'm sure she was hinting at going to the club after dinner tomorrow night. It feels great to be back and hanging out with my best friend.


  I run my hands through racks of clothing while fantasizing about my next sexual encounter with Luke. We've had some pretty crazy sex already and surprisingly, not in the usual places, like a bed. Once in a bed out of four times so far, the rest have not been normal places to have sex.

  My phone rings, and I snap from my thoughts and fantasies of Luke. It's Brady. Shit, it's after six.

  "Hello."

  "Where are you? I'm at your apartment," Brady huffs.

  "I'm at the mall with Ris. I will meet you. What restaurant do you want to have dinner at?" I ask.

  "I'll wait for you. Get here now," he replies tactlessly before hanging up.

  Ugh, the nerve of him sometimes. He drives me insane. I yell to Ris as she is trying on countless dresses, that I must go back to our apartment to meet Brady. She scowls and says, bye. I tell her to grab the hoochiest one as she will look fabulous in whichever she decides. She agrees with me in her bitchy way, then I scramble off to my car.

  I OPEN THE DOOR TO Brady's BMW and sit down on the light tan leather seats. He's talking on his phone to one of his many booty calls, I'm sure. I buckle my seat belt as he takes off into traffic. I place the folders on my lap and look around his flawlessly clean car. This car is gorgeous, and the seats are amazingly comfortable. The metallic wood trim accents make the interior pop. It has a keyless push to start ignition, which I find neat on newer vehicles yet a tad confusing at the same time. There is a panoramic moon roof with a two-piece glass panel overhead. A genuinely nice car, to be honest. I am sure Brady doesn't appreciate it and is already looking for the latest luxury vehicle to blow his money on, then show off to everyone.

  He continues talking on his phone while glancing at me periodically. We have passed quite a few restaurants that I thought we would have stopped at. I wonder where he is taking me. Brady finally ends his call with a tap at his earpiece. I need to know where we're going because something seems a bit off.

  "Where are we going?" I ask.

  I'm a little concerned now that we are away from the heart of the city. We're far from any of the restaurants that he could have taken me to for dinner. Places I know that wouldn't cramp his style and image. Places where he would have undoubtedly flashed his big bucks while providing us with the most fabulous and expensive meal.

  He ignores me and makes another call. He is such a pompous jerk. I check my phone to see if Luke has sent me a message, but he hasn't. I'm sure he's probably busy working on something in his pole barn. I imagine his dreamy smile and the way he looks at me with his ocean-colored eyes. I think about his touch and the way he makes me feel every time I am with him. I miss him.

  Brady begins to slow down then turns on to a nicely tarred road with high stone walls. We travel down a bit before coming to a fancy black gate. Where are we? I've never seen this place before. Brady rolls his window down and presses a white button; then, the gate slides open. He continues with his conversation with God knows who. Large trees are lining what is now a brick driveway. The trees are evenly placed apart from each other and lean inward, giving a tunnel feel. A vast white colonial house comes into view.

  Large pillars frame the outside lower level of what looks to be a three-story mansion—a few balconies cascade from the second floor. The brickwork is stunning, and the landscaping is phenomenal. Whose home is this? Brady swings his car up to the entrance of the mansion on the looped driveway. He ends his call and opens his door. I grab his arm; he stops and looks at me.

  "What?" he says rudely.

  "Where are we?" I demand.

  "My parents," he replies and steps out of his vehicle.

  His parents' house? Holy shit balls. Why would he take me to his parents' house for dinner? An older gentleman, wearing a butler type suit opens my door and extends his hand to me. I put my hand in his and step out of Brady's car. He has already gone inside. I say thank you to the man, and he nods politely. He escorts me to the door of Brady's parents' house and opens it for me. I step inside, my eyes go wide, and instantly my mouth drops open.

  A house that is clearly straight out of an episode of Cribs. This place is drop-dead gorgeous. The shiny white marble floor foyer is divine, with two staircases leading to the second level on both sides of the room, and a glass chandelier perfectly accenting the large room. The decor alone is breathtaking. His parents must be filthy rich, which would explain why Brady is such an arrogant asshole.

  I continue into the house and walk into a room with light gray walls and fancy white furniture. A white grand piano sits on one side of the room, and another chandelier hangs from the ceiling. Beautiful hardwood flooring lays across the room. It must be a living room or sitting area, I assume. I wonder where Brady is. I also wonder what the heck I am doing here.

  The next room I walk into is not as large as the last; it is a gold color with a long rectangular glass table that seats eight people and set for five. I walk around the room, taking in the beautiful decor and fascinating architecture. The plates, glasses, and cutlery match the gold walls and chairs. I have no clue where Brady is, so I decide to continue to the next room in hopes I may find him there. Is he trying to brag about his riches? I am not amused by him needing to show off his home life, but this house is stunning.

  I enter a room that resembles your standard living room, only way fancier. I thought the room before the dining room was one, but I guess not. This room is larger than the previous two. It has a few different sized couches and chairs throughout it, and a large flat-screen television placed on the wall above a beautiful fireplace.

  I can hear a woman's voice coming from the next room, and I make my way toward it. A slender blonde-haired woman dressed in an off-white business suit with a long pencil skirt stands talking with what appears to be a maid or housekeeper. The room looks different to the last few. It is an octagonal shaped room with windows that reach from the floor to the ceiling. A single Toscano bench rests between the windows, and a small bistro style table sits in the middle of the room. A small chandelier hangs over the table, and a flat-screen television is placed on the wall above the fireplace. The view from the windows overlooks the pool and backyard. I knew Brady was a spoiled rich kid, but I didn't realize he was this rich. The maid leaves the room, and the woman turns to me.

  "Hello, you must be Allison! I'm Claire," she says with a very inviting smile.

  She cannot be Brady's mom as she seems way too nice, but I can see a lot of him in her. She's pretty and is more charming than her spoiled son.

  "Yes! Nice to meet you," I smile.

  She draws closer to me and reaches out her hand to shake mine. She drops her hand into mine, and I am not quite sure what to do with how she has presented it to me. It's an awkward "nice to meet you" handshake, that's for sure.

  "You're as beautiful as Brady described. I believe he is out on the terrace talking with his father," she chirps.

  Brady thinks I'm beautiful, and he told his mother I am. That's strange; he pays no attention to me other than when he's a downright douche bag. I do not understand why he would bring me to his parents. I do not feel comfortable discussing the Christiansen account or any business matters in front of them

  On the terrace, you can see the entire back yard, and it's a breathtaking view. Brady is chatting with his father, who is in jeans and a blue and white polo shirt. He is a tad shorter than Brady, with white hair, and is quite tanned. He is as good looking as his son.

  "This must be the infamous Allison. Aren't you a sight," he says as he looks me over.

  I'm becoming quite uncomfortable. The "infamous Allison"? That remark has taken me a bit off-guard. I want to be polite and respectful to Brady's parents as they're so friendly, welcoming, and charming. Although, I am confused about one thing. What has he told his parents about me, and why am I here in the first place?

  "Dad," Brady scowls lightly.

  "Nice to meet you," I say and give him a firm handshake.

  His eyes are darker than his sons. They are shifty, almost devio
us.

  "You work with Brady at Facade correct and are you in Commercial design too?" his father strikes up a conversation.

  "Yes, I am the lighting designer for our Commercial clients," I answer his father politely.

  "She recently landed the Christiansen's account," Brady chimes.

  "Congratulations, that is a huge account of land," he says with a warm smile.

  "Thank you, Mr. Adams," I blush while looking over at Brady, who is staring out over the yard.

  I know it was an account he tried and wanted desperately to land, but I ended up landing it. We're rivals; I guess you could say, ever since I became a designer. We are continually trying to outdo the other when we should be working together, not against each other.

  "Please, call me Jerry," he says.

  "Would you care for a drink?" Claire asks, handing me a glass of white wine.

  Not wanting to drink but not wanting to decline either, I politely take the glass of wine from her. Jerry continues asking questions about the Christiansen project. Brady answers most of his father’s inquires for me. Their butler enters and informs us; dinner is ready. I wonder if he wanted his parents' input on the Christiansen project or his father has something to do with it and wants me to know.

  Jerry and Claire head off the terrace. Brady walks behind them and stops.

  "Would you please not tell my parents you received Lead Designer for this project. I don't feel like getting into it tonight with my dad over the fact that a woman was chosen over me," he says in a vulnerable tone, one that I have never witnessed before.

  I nod in agreement. I feel bad for Brady that his father would treat him so harshly and judge him over the fact that I received the lead position on the project over him. I read his father wrong based on my first impression of him, but his eyes have me believing he may not be a very kind man. Maybe he is why Brady is the way he is. But it still does not answer the question of why I am or why we are here.

  Chapter Fifty-Two