by R. C. Martin
“Which kind?”
I shrugged and smiled at him. “Surprise me.”
“All right. Be right back.”
“I’ll be here,” I teased.
I watched him as he made his way to the bar, then found myself looking about. I eyed the people around me and, as I so often did when I was alone, I wondered about their stories. I watched them; I framed them in my mind. I knew what I saw was merely a snapshot of their existence, and I was curious if that night was a moment in time worth capturing; if any of them would look back on their evening fondly. Then I thought of myself, the space and time in which I was, which in turn made me think of Judah.
A small smile played at my lips as I tried to imagine him in such a place. The more I thought about it, the more my smile grew. I shifted my gaze down at the table so as to hide the effects of my memories. I recalled our evening at Aussie’s and decided the man who drank scotch was too classy for an establishment as low-key as The Tap Room. Except, that wasn’t the only memory I had of him. Not anymore. In my head existed a far more causal Judah. I supposed, perhaps, Judah in a polo might have fit in at our table, just fine.
As if my thoughts had conjured him somehow, my phone sounded from where I’d placed it on the table. I bit my lip at the sight of his name and the alert of a new text message.
JS: Tomorrow night. 8:00. I’ll need your address, Miss Fitzpatrick.
“What are you smiling about?” asked Geoffrey before I could respond.
My head snapped up just as he placed a glass of cider in front of me. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously before he took a swig of his own beer. As soon as he’d swallowed, he guessed, “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Just confirming details for tomorrow.” I held up a finger, signaling I needed just a second to reply.
Me: 825 Heather Ridge Lane, Apt. 36
Me: Will you tell me where we’re going, Mr. St. Michaels?
I set my phone aside and then reached for my cider. It wasn’t until the cool beverage filled my mouth that I noticed the smirk on Geoffrey’s face.
“What?” I insisted after I swallowed.
“Nothing. I’m just enjoying this.”
“Enjoying what, exactly?”
“Living vicariously through you. Watching you get all squirrely over a guy.”
I straightened in my barstool, and my eyes grew wide as I tried to fight a laugh. “Squirrely? I’m not—”
“You are, it’s adorable, I love it—indulge me.”
Before I could reply, my phone sounded with another incoming message. I didn’t pause to think better of it before I snatched it from the table, which made Geoffrey chuckle. I glanced at him, well aware I’d just proven his point, and playfully rolled my eyes.
JS: I don’t think so.
Me: How am I supposed to know what to wear if I don’t know where we’re going?
JS: You’re stunning, Teddy. Anything you wear will be fine.
“Give it here,” demanded Geoffrey.
I gasped when he plucked my phone right out of my hands and began reading my thread of messages. I tried to reach for the device. Still on his feet, Geoffrey merely took a step back as he brought his beer to his lips. He took a healthy swing, peered at me, then back at the messages.
“We’ve got to up your game, Freckles,” he said as he slid my phone across the table between us. “He left the door wide open. Flirt with him.”
“I—I am flirty,” I muttered defensively.
“Yeah?” he asked with an arched eyebrow. “Okay, tell me how you’re planning on responding to that last text.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Glancing down at my screen, I reread Judah’s message, but still nothing came to mind. I tried to stall and took another sip of my cider, but it didn’t help. Claiming defeat, I looked at Geoffrey and shrugged.
He leaned against his forearms on the table, and a sly smile tugged one corner of his mouth before he instructed, “Tell him you have an idea. Tell him maybe you’ll just show up in that gray t-shirt of his.”
“What?” I cried on a laugh. “No way!”
“Come on. Play with him, Teddy. You’re flirting for the both of us, here.”
Turning my phone face down, I decided to take advantage of the door Geoffrey left wide open. Mimicking his position, I leaned toward him and murmured, “How are you doing? Really—all jokes aside.”
“Oh, no. We’re not talking about me. We’re flirting.”
“No, we’re drinking. At The Tap Room. Not to mention, it’s been a couple weeks since you’ve really talked about him.”
“There’s nothing to say. He’s gone. I’m dealing with it, like an adult. And in another hour, when I’m drunk, I won’t have to worry about texting him something stupid because we’ve got Judah to play with.” He reached over to turn my phone face up, challenging me with a pointed stare. “And because you would never let me stoop so low as to drunk dial the bastard who left me, you’re going to send something naughty. We’ll have his attention all night.”
“Babe,” I practically whined. “I can’t send that text.”
“He’ll love it and you know it. Do it.”
Geoffrey downed the rest of his beer, and I hesitated a moment longer. I knew he was right. I knew Judah would not shy away from a playful text. Even more, there was a part of me that wanted to stir the pot. Almost a week had passed since we last saw each other. While we exchanged a few messages, it felt like I was being given an opportunity. It was my chance at a warmup. From behind my screen, I could be brave.
“Fine.”
I picked up the phone before I could change my mind and constructed the text. I didn’t even think twice before I sent it. When it was done, I suddenly felt like my internal thermostat was turned up against my wishes.
“Oh, my god. Holy shit,” I mumbled.
“Let me see.”
With my eyes sealed closed tight, I turned my screen so he could read it.
Me: I’ve got this really sexy, gray t-shirt about your size. Maybe I’ll just wear that…
Geoffrey burst into laughter. Then his hands were on my face and his lips were pressed to mine in a chaste kiss. I opened my eyes as he pulled away from me. My face still in his hands, he grinned and said, “You sexy, little minx.”
I chuckled, feeling anything but the sort, and he kissed my forehead before he let me go.
“Proud of you.”
“What if he doesn’t respond?” I muttered.
“He will,” Geoffrey insisted as he began to make his way to the bar. “I guarantee it.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Judah was in a foul mood. He had been on the phone for nearly an hour, placating a disgruntled client, and his nerves were just about shot. Usually an even-tempered man, it took a great deal to get a rise out of him. However, on this particular afternoon, he felt as though everyone seemed to think him a fool. He was confident he owed no one an explanation as to why he was the opposite, and yet explanations were precisely what he was doling out.
As soon as the call was ended, he stood from behind his desk and marched his way across the lobby toward Eddalyn’s office. She was obviously in the middle of something, but that didn’t stop Judah from crossing her threshold and shutting the door behind him. She glanced up at him, but he hardly noticed as he paced back and forth in front of her desk.
“I want him fired,” he demanded.
When Eddalyn didn’t respond right away, he cut his eyes at her, though he did not stop moving. She stared at him, like she thought a moment of silence might change his mind. He meant what he said. He would not take back his declaration.
“I understand your frustration. Evan was careless and—”
Judah stopped abruptly, grabbing hold of his hips as he leaned toward her and spat, “He cut corners. He wasted thousands of dollars and time. I just spent an hour on the phone with the client, who argued breach of contract, giving him every right to walk away. I don’t have time for
this shit. I want him out.”
Calmly, Eddalyn folded one hand over the other and replied, “Very well. And who will you put in his place? You are here now, not there.”
“John can do it. Fuck, John will do it. He got lazy and let this slide. If we’re to trust him as a project manager in that office, he’ll make this right or we’ll fire him, too.”
“You cannot fire everyone,” said Eddalyn with a raised eyebrow. Judah opened his mouth to say more, but she lifted her hands and shook her head at him. “I’m right, and you know it. But you’re right, too. I suggest you make a trip to Denver first thing Monday morning and handle it.”
“Agreed.” He turned on his heel to leave, mildly placated.
“Judah.”
The tone in his aunt’s voice stopped him straight away, and he turned to face her once more.
“I expect you to handle this rationally. Evan might be dead weight, but John is a talent I do not wish to lose. Manage this as someone in your position ought to. This is your company almost as much as it is mine—but we cannot run it with a skeleton crew.”
He dipped his chin in a curt nod and then took his leave. As soon as he reentered his space, he closed the door behind him, not wishing to be bothered. He glanced at the time after he eased into his chair, and noted it was almost five o’clock. Against his will, he remembered the date he’d been looking forward to all week. The date he no longer harbored any interest in entertaining—the woman he was waiting for no longer worthy of his adoration, his curiosity, or his patience.
There was a soft tap on his door, extracting Judah from his thoughts. He glared in its direction, not wishing to be bothered. Even still, he called out, “What is it?”
Logan twisted the knob and peeked her head in. The innocent expression in her eyes shone brightly as she inquired, “Is now a bad time? I wanted to show you what I came up with for the Mason Diner project before I left. They’re ideas, mostly, but I thought…” Her voice trailed off, and she eyed him suspiciously. He could tell the smile on her face was forced before she said, “You know what? Never mind. I’ll just email them. You can let me know what you think when you get a chance. No rush.”
As she spoke, he stared at her—but he didn’t see her. He saw the woman who rejected him. Again, his thoughts drifted toward Teddy. Her rejection was worse. She had played him hot and cold, and he resented it more than he knew how to express. What he did know was his only move with the redhead was to cast her aside in favor of another—but he would not allow Logan the opportunity to toy with him. He considered himself no one’s fool, and he suddenly felt compelled to make that clear.
“Wait, Logan. Come in. Shut the door behind you. I need to speak with you.”
“Oh. Okay.” Logan acquiesced.
Judah leaned back in his chair, taking her all in as she sat. From what he could tell, she didn’t look pregnant; but he surmised she would be one of those women who wore her condition discretely. Furthermore, he knew she could hardly be very far along.
“Has it been confirmed? Are you pregnant?” he asked bluntly. “You haven’t spoken of your condition since you ran out of here a couple of weeks ago.”
“Oh,” she hummed with a brilliant smile. Her hands slid over her flat stomach and she sat up even straighter. “Well, I haven’t been to the doctor yet. I have an appointment next week. But I took, like, three tests. Roman and I are pretty sure we have a baby coming.”
Judah nodded slowly. He tried to imagine what she would look like round with child. Even with the reality of such a future all but manifested, he still had a hard time wrapping his mind around the possibility. As crude as he knew the thought was, he admitted to himself that her child would change her body in ways that were irreversible. He thought it a shame. Even more, he did not relish the idea of wasting his time pouring into a career that would be cut short by motherhood.
“What does this child mean for you? Are your days here numbered?”
“What?” she muttered. Judah thought he saw panic flash across her pretty green eyes before she went on to say, “No. I have no intention of quitting. I mean, I’ll need a few weeks for maternity leave, but I don’t want to give up my career.”
“You say that now. Am I to expect you won’t change your mind? Because if there’s even the slightest chance you’ll be leaving, I’d like to be prepared.”
“Judah,” she cried, lifting her hands almost exactly as Eddalyn had done only minutes before. “First of all, it’s like I said. I’m not quitting. I love my job. I’ve worked incredibly hard to get where I am today, and just because I’m having a baby doesn’t mean I won’t continue to work equally as hard at what I love. Staying at Eddalyn’s was a decision I made—a decision I made with my husband—long before we even started trying to get pregnant.
“Second, I don’t know what crawled up your ass, but you certainly will not take it out on me. What is happening in my home life is none of your concern. The information I’ve given you is privileged. I haven’t told anyone in the office, yet; and I would appreciate it if you didn’t, either. And here I thought maybe you were asking out of friendly curiosity. Clearly, I was mistaken.
“But you know what—you might be an ass, but I’m not. If something is wrong, if there’s something going on you want to talk about, it’s just you and me in here. You can talk to me instead of being a jerk to me.”
Her outburst was like a beacon, shedding light on what was really bothering him—but the truth only irritated him more. He looked away from her, knowing she was right. More than that, he knew he could trust Logan to be professional. He knew how dedicated she was to her work. He was certain if she said she wasn’t leaving, she wasn’t going to leave. She wasn’t a liar.
But Teddy—Teddy was.
For reasons he still could not fully fathom, she’d wormed her way into his head, and he couldn’t get her out. Yet, after the previous night—after he saw her kiss another man—he knew he shouldn’t still want her. It irritated him that he did.
For seven goddamn days I chose her—seven days. It took her less than that to change her mind about choosing me. And she wonders why I seek only pleasure.
“Judah?” Logan spoke softly, pulling him from his thoughts.
He inhaled deeply and shifted his attention onto her once more. He had to admit his sour mood had nothing to do with her. If anything, she was the most reliable designer on his staff. She didn’t deserve his wrath, and they both knew it. Rather than yell at her, he longed to bury himself in another woman of his choosing. Yet, there was a small voice in the back of his head that insisted he wouldn’t be good company to anyone. He bore no interest in being a gentleman—he wished only to take a willing woman to bed. Even so, in spite of his faults, he wasn’t careless. There was always a vetting process, one for which he harbored no patience. Not that night.
“Jude?”
“I apologize,” he stated, leaning forward in his chair so as to express his sincerity. “You are a decisive woman, and I know this about you. I trust you won’t change your mind about your commitment to your position here. And your secret is safe with me. That is all. You’re free to go.”
She stared at him for a moment, then let out an irritated huff as she stood to leave. “You need a woman, Judah. And Lord help her, whoever she is.”
He watched her leave, staring at the back of his door as it latched closed behind her. All the while, one thought circled around his mind.
I need a woman, all right—preferably naked and on her knees.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Judah never responded to my text. Half the night, I waited for him to reply, certain he would—convinced he couldn’t let my statement lie. I waited in vain.
For the hundredth time that day, I took my phone out and opened our thread—abandoned after my playful text. I stared at it, wondering if I had somehow gone too far. It was a ridiculous notion—to think I was the one who overstepped some invisible boundary—but I couldn’t explain his silence in any othe
r way.
As the day drew to a close, it wasn’t merely his lack of response that worried me. After nearly twenty-four hours of silence, I was unsure what to expect for the evening. While he informed me of the time I should be ready, and I relayed my home address, the silence that stretched on between us started to feel instinctively unbreakable.
“Hey,” Geoffrey murmured. He rested his hands on my shoulders and began to rub his thumbs against the base of my neck. His strong grip yielded the perfect amount of pressure, and I dropped my chin to my chest as I began to relax by way of his ministrations. “We’re getting ready to head out. Still nothing?”
I didn’t answer him right away. I let myself enjoy his massage for another moment before I patted one of his hands and spun around to face him. Andrew was standing to his left, and they both eyed me with concern. I freed a sigh, reached for my purse, tossed my phone back inside, and hooked it over my arm as I stood.
“He wouldn’t stand me up. Right? I mean, it’s weird for him to not text me back, but he wouldn’t just blow me off.” My gaze jumped from Geoffrey to Andrew and then back again. “Right?”
“The way he’s been doggedly chasing after you? No way,” insisted Geoffrey. “Maybe something came up. An emergency or some shit.”
“Yeah—maybe bullshit,” Andrew muttered. He raised a single eyebrow at me and said, “If that dick stands you up, I’ll kick his ass.”
I laughed; not because I didn’t appreciate the offer, but because it was the second time he’d told me he’d confront Judah in the last two weeks. Regardless of how unnecessary and unrealistic the notion was, I appreciated the smile it brought to my face.
“I think you should enroll in karate or something. You and Steven could do it together—work out some of this pent-up aggression you seem to have.”
He winked at me and nodded toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”