Bachelor Heart

by Regina Morris

  “What's your biggest fear, Deborah?”

  Her widened eyes suggested that he had surprised her.

  She glanced away. With a slight hint of a nervous smile and a shake of her head, she said, “Well, like you, probably a fear of security.”

  A five-word answer, nothing more. It was interesting that she shared that same fear.

  “What kind of security?” he asked, prodding her for more information.

  A distant look crossed her face, then a slight blush. “I didn't have a lot growing up. I had the love of a good family, but not much money.”

  A spark of hope kindled within him. He had asked the right question. He had always suspected as much since she mostly packed her lunches and, as far as he could tell, she never took extravagant vacations.

  He wanted to keep the conversation going. “Your family didn't have much of life's little extras?”

  She took a sip of her water. “Nothing such as extras. No. We were poor”—she glanced away but then made eye contact with him—“and I have an older sister. Sometimes,… we didn't even have enough food.”

  Her voice was soft with a whiff of sorrow.

  She then paused as though deciding whether or not to continue sharing, but then she took a deep breath. “We always ate three meals a day, don't get me wrong, but I'd be hungry most nights. I would get free breakfast from the school district, but that was only during the school year. The summer months were the hardest, but the local area Food Bank would help us.”

  She smiled and waved off the last statement, but he suspected the story pained her deeply by the way her eyes were tearing up.

  “I got a job in high school, which helped my family,” she said. “Being the youngest, my money didn't have to help feed more than just my parents and me once Sue got a scholarship and went to college.” Deborah took a deep breath. “My father got a promotion at work just as she left, so much of the money I earned helped me attend college.”

  He felt a wall being torn down between them, and he felt closer to her. “I’m so sorry, Deborah.”

  Dedicated, loyal, and hardworking. Those were three characteristics Daniel always associated with her, and now he knew why. They were instilled in her very early in life.

  Her green eyes sparkled in the candlelight. She’d said she hated wearing contacts, but she looked amazing without glasses. Her hair was also more feminine and soft than he had ever seen it before. Some days, he figured her tight bun must give her headaches. Tonight, her hair flowed freely over her shoulders, brushing them softly as she turned her head or laughed.

  “What do you do in your time off?” he asked, moving on to the next question—and hoping it was less painful for her.

  “I like putting on comfortable blue jeans and a T–shirt and…well, I like going to quiet coffee houses and writing.”

  That's right. She had mentioned something about writing years ago to him. “Novels?”

  She didn't answer. She only blushed, which made her look more radiant than ever before.

  Enjoying the conversation, he felt drawn to her full, red lips. She even smiled throughout the evening. She never scowled around the office, but here, at this moment, she appeared happy. She had a smile that lit up the room.

  Her lips also looked soft and kissable.

  Staring into her eyes, and at those glorious lips, kept him from focusing on her cleavage. Even wearing his jacket now since she had mentioned how cold the room felt, he still had a marvelous view of a great deal of flesh.

  He pulled himself away and now focused his gaze on the bread and butter on the table.

  What the hell was he doing?

  This was a contractual dinner with an employee. An employee who only took this assignment to help him out. She had made it perfectly clear that nothing was to come between the two of them. The last thing he needed was to lose the best assistant he ever had, and possibly, get a law suit to deal with.

  He was better than this.

  “But enough about me.” She poked the food and moved it around on her plate. “Tell me more about you.”

  He never shared too much of his stories with others, but he mentioned his hometown, she already knew he had been the star quarterback of his high school team. Of course, she had seen and taken care of his tenth and twentieth high school reunion invitations. He hadn't attended either of them, but not because of a lack of preparation. Deborah was more than willing to set up hotel reservations and flights for him. Instead, she sent out his regrets for not attending them.

  “Before I forget,” Deborah said, “please remember the company all–hands quarterly meeting is in one week. I've gathered the statistics from the five department heads and have begun the work on your presentation, but”—she shook her head—“I didn't have time to finish it.”

  And, as if by magic, his assistant Ms. Baxter returned—sans hair bun, glasses, and a business suit. He stared at Deborah, finding it hard to believe that this was the same woman who had shared his office for the past eighteen years.

  The waitress appeared with their dessert. Daniel had known the young lady for years since she was Adam's daughter, but he’d never bothered to ask her anything about her life. Deborah had no issue with asking questions and getting to know the people around her. Thanks to Deborah's questions, they found out that the girl worked at the restaurant in the evenings and on the weekends while putting herself through school.

  How did he not know that? He had thought her name was Teresa until Deborah read her nametag and began calling her Tessa.

  Daniel downed his scotch.

  He was paid to run businesses, not be a people person. There was no need to feel embarrassed… God, did he really call the girl by the wrong name for years? Had he done so in front of her father?

  “Are you sure you'll be able to drive?” Deborah asked and then tasted her slice of cheesecake.

  That's right. He’d driven tonight. Surely he shouldn't get behind the wheel.

  “You can drive my car back to the hotel, that is if you don't mind. I'll take a cab back to my home.”

  “Do you think that's wise?”

  He glanced at his empty glass. “I shouldn't be driving.”

  She shook her head. “If the photographers are still outside, won’t it appear odd if we don't leave together?”

  Deborah always thought ahead and took care of all the little details. It’s why he relied so heavily on her.

  “I'll leave my car, and Adam will see that it gets home,” Daniel said. “We can take a cab back to your hotel, and then I'll have the driver take me home.”

  Exiting from the side door and into a cab would allow them to ditch any reporters outside. He wasn't going to stay the night with Deborah at the hotel, and he didn't want the reporters disturbing her privacy.

  He bit his lip and focused on that single thought. He wasn't going to stay the night with Deborah. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He had to keep this arrangement professional and just remember that she was his assistant, not his date.

  18

  Daniel returned home, alone.

  After securing the iron gate which lead onto his property, he pulled his car into the garage. Deborah had already texted that she had made it safely to her hotel suite without any press or notice by anyone.

  She was safe and secure.

  That meant a lot to him.

  Oreo and Ginger welcomed him once he entered his home. Their tails wagged and they barked to greet him. They were great security guards, but more than that, they were faithful pets.

  “Let me get the two of you some dinner. It’s late.”

  They followed him into the kitchen where he refilled their bowls and made sure they had water. He then took them upstairs.

  “We can watch some television tonight and cuddle.” Entering his bathroom, he got ready for bed, noting that his jacket held the slight scent of Deborah’s perfume. He was certain that she was already asleep, but he was tempted to call her. Call and just talk.

  There
were still some more conversational tips in the magazine he wanted to go over. But they’d have to wait until their next date.

  Date.

  No, their next ‘business meeting’. He could practice the magazine tips then.

  “I’ve got in over my head,” he said to the dogs as he got into bed. He scooted Oreo aside but Ginger leaned in and licked his face repeatedly. Their normal bedtime routine.

  “Okay. Okay,” he said, laughing while Ginger licked him. “Candy kisses. Yum. Yum. Yum.” He scratched her lower back. “Good girl.”

  When Ginger moved over to the other pillow on the bed and plopped down, Daniel scooted himself over to reach his other dog who lay at the foot of the bed. “The reporters were all over us at the restaurant.” He patted Oreo’s belly and looked deep into his soulful eyes. “Don’t worry though. Deborah is fine. I’ll make sure no one bothers her.” After rubbing the dog’s ears, which always calmed the puppy and got him to sleep, he said, “Good boy.”

  There wasn’t much on television so he left it on for background noise. Instead of focusing on an old Cary Grant romance, he opened his phone’s app and started scanning its articles.

  “Dog or Cat? The Importance of Pets in a Relationship,” one article read.

  He smiled and scanned past the article to the next one.

  Deborah loved dogs.

  “Should You Keep Secrets from Your Lover,” was another article.

  “The answer to that one is no,” he said to his dogs who had settled in and were nearly asleep on the bed.

  “How to Enjoy Your Best Orgasm Ever,” was a third article. He decided to read through that one. For being a man of nearly forty, the tips were not that surprising to him, but the article was written from a woman’s point of view. What women wanted. What they expected. What they wished for.

  If he could believe the article, women knew exactly what they wanted but didn’t know how to tell their lover. The article contained links to follow up stories. One was about how to share your inner-most thoughts with the person you share a bed with.

  He started reading the next article but found himself having to scan back and start it over again. His eyes drooped and he just needed to get some sleep.

  In his dream, he sat in the backroom of a bar. The thick smell of alcohol and smoke filled his nostrils, and he could tell he was not alone. The faint scent of perfume lingered in the air, as well.

  His mystery brunette joined him in the private room. Boxes filled the tiny space, and the door didn’t lock. Anyone, at any time, could catch them.

  She stood naked except for spiked high heels and a red sun hat, the kind that gardeners wore. By the way she tilted her head, he couldn't make out her face. Her dark, brunette curls hung loosely along her silhouetted face, and out of nowhere, she held a lipstick tube and applied the fire engine redness to her full lips.

  She knelt in front of him and unzipped his pants. Tugging his cock through the opening, she freed his erection. It sprang forth, swollen and throbbing to be touched. His heart raced as he anticipated her tongue gliding up his manhood and her taking him deep into her mouth, allowing the red lipstick to stain him.

  With his left hand, he grabbed hold of the windowsill for support as her warm tongue stroked a path up his shaft and she held his balls gently. He moaned as she swirled her tongue around the tip and slid him inside.

  She moaned in delight as she closed her lips around his throbbing length, causing Daniel's stomach to tighten. She sucked enthusiastically, and he needed to grip the windowsill tighter as he thrust more firmly into her mouth.

  With his free hand, he touched the top of her red, floppy hat to hold her head and guide her.

  Just as his hand brushed against the hat, and he had a chance to maybe see her face, he woke up.

  19

  “What do you mean the article says I'm pregnant?” This type of drama shouldn't be allowed so early in the morning, and Deborah already regretted letting Caroline in the hotel suite.

  She grabbed Caroline's phone from her hand and glared at the posting, studying the picture. “Do I look pregnant?”

  Caroline gave a pfft sound. “Looks altered.” She then made a Vanna White impersonation over her own belly. “This is a baby bump. Your waist is slender and trim. There's nothing you need to worry about.”

  She then studied Deborah’s thin waist. “By the way, I hate you for your hourglass figure.”

  Deborah sighed and thought of the expression, “Don't shoot the messenger.” She still wanted to scream at someone, but, instead, read the article—starting with the video.

  She watched as Ellington left the baby store with the lone purchase in his cart. Pausing the video for a moment, she said, “Daniel hates to shop, and this explains why he was late last night to pick me up. This video was posted last night to this newsfeed. Did you take this video?”

  “Me? No. I was out with Scott last night. Besides,” she said, pointing to the video, “this looks like it was taken from a distance—and from someone’s car. Any video I would have taken would be closer up. My bet is that the reporter was following Daniel last night.”

  “Are there any…?” Deborah began to ask.

  “Reporters downstairs?” Caroline asked. “No. I guess Daniel gave them the slip before arriving at the hotel.”

  Deborah continued the video. Tilting her head, she read the description of the present from the side of the box. Immediately after doing so, she gazed over to Caroline. “I don't think his gift to you and Scott is a surprise any longer. Sorry.”

  Caroline waved her hand dismissively as though that was the least of their worries. “It's the thought that counts. Keep watching.”

  Deborah broke out in a fit of laughter as she watched Daniel struggling with the box to stow it in the trunk. Daniel always had an air of decorum about him, and the suit he wore made the video just that much more fun to watch. Swearing and slamming the trunk shut was so unlike him.

  “The funniest part about this,” Deborah said, “is that I already bought his gift for you. And, to make it ironic, I got this exact security system. It's being delivered the day of your shower.”

  “We own a big house, I'm sure we can make use of both gifts.” Caroline gave a wry smile. “The hashtag #EllingtonSecretBaby is trending right now. Most other news sites aren't showing the funny video, just rumoring that a baby is on its way.”

  Just like the proverbial feather pillow being ripped open atop a mountain, lies were hard to keep. Once the feathers flew everywhere, especially in a breeze, it became an impossible task to gather them once again.

  Deborah understood that there was no way to undo what had already been done. “This rumor will die soon enough. People will either realize they have their own lives to worry about and stop listening to these crazy stories, or the lack of a baby will shut them up.”

  It then occurred to her. “Has Daniel seen this video?”

  Caroline shook her head. “He’s not much into social media, but he has to have heard about it by now.” She crossed the room and held Deborah’s hand. “Tonight, the two of you are going to the opera.” Caroline took her phone back and placed it in her pocket. “Do you like opera?”

  Deborah glared at her friend. It wasn't the stupidest question, but, at what these tickets cost, it wasn't as though Deborah could afford such extravagance. Since Caroline had worked as a waitress for years, she understood the financial challenges.

  “Yeah, I heard it once I’d said it.” Caroline walked to the closet and inspected the outfits. “You may want to wear something comfortable.”

  “Why is that?”

  “If you're like me, you'll be asleep long before intermission.” Caroline inspected each gown before moving it aside. “You've already worn the nicest gown I loaned you. I think we should go shopping.”

  Deborah crossed the room and grabbed the first outfit she could reach in the closet. “There's no need to spend money. I'm sure this will be all right.”

  Caroline touch
ed the taffeta fabric. “This one is lovely. If it were me, though, I'd go with a sleek design to show the absence of a baby bump… but, if you want all this excess material across your midriff…”

  Good point. The press didn’t need any encouragement. She didn’t enjoy spending money, and hoped Daniel was having a better day than she was. “Let's go shopping.”

  Daniel’s bad day just got worse.

  “He's drop–dead gorgeous,” Suzy Ortiz whispered into her office phone. “You'd never expect an old geezer like him to be this handsome. Naturally, he has the charm of an overbearing professor, but I'm sure his money makes up a lot for his personality.” She giggled and added, “Guess what? He's taking me on a business trip tomorrow.”

  How could the silly temp employee not notice him standing ten feet from her? Daniel didn't wear much cologne to announce his presence in a room, not like Ms. Ortiz and the swill of a perfume bottle she wore, but still.

  He absolutely didn't want to take her on this trip, but the temp agency couldn't find a replacement in time.

  “Get off the phone, Ms. Ortiz.” His commanding voice echoed through the room, causing her to immediately hang up.

  “What do you need?” Suzy asked, still lounging in the chair and swiveling back and forth.

  She didn't say, “sir” to him, she didn't sit up in the chair, she didn’t look interested in doing her job. He’d just finished a two–hour meeting, and, with the nauseous smell lingering in the air, he suspected all she’d managed to do was paint her nails and talk on the phone.

  “I need you to do your job.” He walked around the desk to where a Rolodex sat. The device was old school charm, but so was Ms. Baxter.

  His finger paused on the dial. Deborah. Deborah was old school.

  He flipped through the cards. There needed to be professional decorum between a boss and his assistant, but when Deborah returned, he wanted to call her by her first name. After all these years, and with him truly missing the way she ran the office, he no longer wanted the barrier of using last names between them.