“A new one? I’ve been using the same one for the last four years and I think they’ve gotten bored too. Why can’t anyone think for themselves? Why can’t people think outside the box for a change?” Justin shoveled food into his mouth and then spoke around it. “This is why I hire out the planning! Because I don’t want to fucking think about it and do it myself.”
“I’d get to it if I were you.” Dylan glanced at his watch and back to Justin. “Christmas is in like three and a half months.”
“What’s with you?” Zander eyed Cole. “Shit. It’s the girl, isn’t it?”
Cole opened his mouth to refute Zander’s observation. He looked around the table at his friends, at the men who were there for him After Francesca. Who were always there for him even Before Francesca. Their friendship ran deep and their loyalty to each other even deeper. He looked at Michael and for the first time since Michael and Sophia had been together, Cole realized just how happy and content Michael was. The stirrings of jealousy intermingled with his food as he thought of how happy his good friend had been for the past few months.
Little things no longer bothered Michael. He didn’t complain about women. He never complained about Sophia or any one of her ideas for the numerous charity projects she was working on. He didn’t complain about minute things.
Damn. The guy was in love.
The guy was happy. Content.
And Cole wanted that.
“I’m in love with Jillian,” Cole admitted.
“Is there something in the water here? The sugar cookies?” Dylan asked as he leaned back in his seat. “Seriously, who wants just one woman? It’s gotta be some magic shit Regina’s putting in the cookies. I ain’t eating any more of them.” He dropped the one he was holding onto Cole’s napkin and Cole couldn’t help but laugh at the disgusted look on Dylan’s face.
“Knew it.” Zander slammed his hand down on the table and Justin passed him a fifty-dollar bill.
“You guys bet on this?” Cole asked.
“Yeah.” Zander smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been on a roll lately.”
“He took Jade’s money last night.” Justin explained. “So he thinks he’s hot shit.”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Michael spoke in a low and even voice and Cole looked him in the eye.
“No. She is a Sex Toy Reviewer. Extraordinaire.” He used air quotes around the last word for more emphasis.
Dylan choked on his water.
Justin raised a curious eyebrow and a wicked grin spread across his face.
Zander let out a breath. “Hijo de puta.”
Michael didn’t blink an eye. He merely shrugged. “I know it sounds bad right now, but I’ve been through that. Well, something similar.”
“Sophia was a high-class stripper,” Cole said, not seeing how that could be as bad as a Sex Toy Reviewer.
“So what? We’ve all done things to make ends meet. Remember that time in college when we auctioned ourselves off to benefit the Alpha Gamm sisters? It wasn’t like we made the money, but we did it because we were desperate to get Katie and all her friends to recognize us.”
“That was the worst thing you’ve ever done?” Justin asked, clearly thinking there could and were worse things to do besides auction yourself off to the public for the sorority sisters to raise enough money for their philanthropy.
This, in turn, got Cole thinking about the things he’d done to make ends meet – like Sophia had. Sophia was an amazing woman. He’d only met her a handful of times, but if there was anyone suited for Michael, it was Sophia. Sweet, smart, caring and willing to do so many things for those less-fortunate than herself, it was a paradox that she had been a stripper when Michael and she had met.
She was helping with The Francesca Project and was one of the main supporters of trying to get anyone and everyone involved. Attending college for nursing school didn’t seem to hinder her abilities to help at the Art Foundation or offer her services to provide makeovers to women once the apartments were in full swing. Her idea of offering them art classes – her lists were endless.
“Yeah, I think it was,” Michael said.
“What about the threesomes we’d spent our last semester in college doing?” Dylan asked.
“Before you ditched us for Harvard for your Ph.D?” Justin threw a waded up napkin at Dylan.
“That might be the most-taboo thing I’ve ever done.” Michael chuckled. “But definitely not the worst. Right? You don’t consider that a bad thing, do you?”
Zander shook his head. “No. That was all just crazy sex we had with willing women.”
“Quite a few willing women.” Justin corrected him.
“This is true. We were young and single. Who doesn’t experience things like that? Besides, each of those women wanted it. And it wasn’t like we all had sex with all of them at the same time,” Zander said.
Cole nodded in agreement. Those were fun times. Great times, actually. It sounded so far-fetched now that it was years later, but at the time, the five of them had been wild and heavy into seeing how many threesomes they could have.
But hell, what did any of that matter now? It was in the past. They’d grown up. It wasn’t the worst thing he’d done. But it wasn’t public knowledge either. He didn’t write an article about it.
Cole pushed his almost-empty container away and reached for a sugar cookie. Think, Cole, think. The fact that Sophia was a stripper didn’t define who she was as a person. Obviously. Otherwise, what would be the point of getting to know someone if all you did was judge someone based on their job?
And in light of Dylan bringing up the threesomes—thanks Dylan—what would Jillian say if she knew that about him? Would she not want him? Would she judge him? Would she hold it against him like he was holding it against her that she reviewed adult novelties?
Thankfully she didn’t know that. He was beginning to see what an ass he’d look like for bringing up her article. It still hurt him that she hadn’t confided in him and he wasn’t sure how he would get over that.
Fuck.
The man and the adult in him was telling him that he needed to man up and go find her.
If he had any damn chance of sitting inside this office with his four friends and looking content like Michael, then he needed to go find Jillian.
Because those were his options. Be like Dylan who had no clue what it felt like to be lucky in love with someone—who actually thought it was beneath him—or be like Michael. Unabashed, suddenly wise beyond his years in the relationship department and strangely confident of who he was. Not to mention happy.
Cole stood. “I have to go find Jillian. Thanks for the reminder about the threesomes.” He snagged another cookie as he glanced down at Michael and pointed his finger. “And you, you’re the man.”
“Finally,” Michael yelled after him. “It’s not just me.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Jillian? Did you not hear me? You’ve got to come see the television. Your man is on there.”
Arabella pulled Jillian’s arm, yanking Jillian from the bed and she followed her sister down the hall into her tiny living room to see what was on her equally tiny TV. Jillian’s nerves jiggled inside of her at the thought of seeing Cole.
“It’s the groundbreaking for his big project,” her sister said.
Jillian’s heart soared into space at the sight of him on the television. The groundbreaking. Had she not followed her heart, she would have been there with him. Hell, she could have showed up with her mom – who had to be in the crowd somewhere. Cole looked utterly sexy in his suit and tie with his bright yellow hard hat. She briefly registered his almost equally hot friends as they too stood facing the camera, all wielding gold shovels.
Cole didn’t look as happy as he should have though. She could tell by the fake smile – it lacked the deep lines of his real smile. The rigidity of his shoulders proved he wasn’t naturally excited. He wasn’t happy. It was because of her that he wasn’t, wasn’t it?
The Francesca Project was official.
“He looks good, girl.” Arabella settled her feet beneath her bottom next to her on the couch.
“God, so damn good. I miss him. I think I made a mistake agreeing to go to Party Panties.” Jillian closed her eyes. “I love him, Arabella. God, I love him so much, it hurts to see him unhappy.”
“He’s smiling,” Arabella said.
Jillian opened her eyes and sighed.
“It’s for show.” Jillian’s hand flew to her chest as the reporter faded into the background and all she could do was focus on Cole.
The groundbreaking was his big moment to honor Francesca and he wasn’t happy. She ached for him. She ached because she knew without a doubt that it was her that had put that fake smile on his face.
Why hadn’t he come after her when she walked out of his office? Did he not want her enough? Had she been misreading all the signs between them?
“His friends are hot as fuck, Jilly Bean. Where can I get one? Where do they hang out?”
“Are you in any shape to tangle with another man after Derrek? Honestly, Arabella, it’s been like two weeks.” Her sister’s eyes turned from the TV and Jillian instantly regretted her sarcastic attitude.
“Not all men are like Derrek,” Arabella replied quietly.
“I know, sis. I didn’t mean it in that way. I only meant that maybe you should take some time for yourself. Get yourself back before you find another guy.”
“Problem is, is I haven’t had sex in forever. Forever, Jilly Bean. Maybe you could get Cole to hook me up with one of his friends. One night. That’s all I need. Just one night with one of them. Any of the four, I mean. Obviously, Cole is taken. But that guy–” Arabella leaned in closer to the television and touched the screen with her finger at one of Cole’s friends. Since Jillian had never met any of them and she missed the beginning where the news anchor announced them, she didn’t know who her sister was pointing at, but she had to agree, he was hot. Like fire hot.
They all were.
Arabella continued, “That guy looks like the kind of guy that could make me forget all of my troubles.”
Watching the five business partners as they celebrated the groundbreaking by shoveling the dirt with their gold shovels, Jillian had to agree. Every single one of them—dressed to perfection in their suits—Cole’s red tie had him standing out from the rest of them. But Arabella was right, the group of men would make any woman’s heart flutter and their panties incinerate.
Jillian didn’t care about all of them though, nor could she imagine sleeping with any of the men other than Cole.
Cole was it for her.
If only she could figure out a way to make it work between them and follow her dream at the same time. Why did she have to choose? She deserved love, didn’t she? She deserved to have her dream too, right? Why was she in this predicament?
“I have to go in to Party Panties. Willow is expecting me.” Jillian stood from the couch and slid into her shoes, putting her heartbreak and regret aside.
“Call him, Jillian. Just call him. At least one of us should be happy,” Arabella said.
“The problem is Party Panties. I have to decide what I want the most.”
With that, Jillian walked out into the warm, fall weather. Contemplating what to do about Cole and seemingly unable to come up with an answer, she arrived at Party Panties feeling no better than when she’d left home.
The only problem with Party Panties as far as she could tell, was that it wasn’t home. The sad part was since knowing she was leaving Lacie’s, she had no home. Granted she hadn’t left Lacie’s altogether yet, but it was enough to make her take notice in the fact that Party Panties didn’t feel like home. Give it time. That was what she kept telling herself.
But so many things were wrong. She glanced around the disco-themed décor. The undergarments were nice—a mixture of naughty and nice—and they had everything pertaining to adult novelties that took up an entire wall. Which made sense because of the at-home parties they were famous for. The garments were affordable. Some screamed clearance. The nicer items were…okay. Nothing you would find at The Peekeasy or Lacie’s though. Her gaze landed on one of the cashiers who was ringing up a customer’s merchandise. The young girl behind the counter wasn’t smiling at the woman let alone talking to her as she took her money.
That was when it hit her.
It was impersonal here.
This wasn’t the first time Jillian had noticed either. It bothered her. A lot. Was it that that was really bugging her or the fact that she could feel it in her heart, that as much as she wanted her own lingerie store, it wasn’t going to be Party Panties or Lacie’s Lingerie? The Peekeasy was her place and it was gone.
For now.
Not forever.
She’d chalked it up to time. Give Party Panties a chance. Only, the second she walked in to the flagship store, it’d felt all wrong. Wrong because of the impersonal service. Wrong because of the décor. Wrong because…where was her record player, damn it? Willow had some tiny electronic box thingy that plugged into the surround sound and played music – music that lacked the personality only a record could provide.
Jillian’s stomach flipped around in her belly. God, had she made a mistake coming here? Had she been ignoring her gut feeling this entire time? She was usually spot-on with her instincts, but having Cole around and working at Lacie’s plus the stuff going on with her sister; she attributed the uneasy flutters toward Derrek and the fear that he might come looking for Arabella.
Never had she considered it was because of Party Panties.
Until now, as she watched the cashier perform another transaction, fighting with the cashless system. For God’s sake, they hadn’t even noticed she was standing in the store watching them. Where was the bell for the door? With Willow standing a few feet away, her eyes glued to her phone, Jillian wondered how their numbers were what they were.
Was she being duped?
Jillian’s mind swirled with loads of questions, her nerves firing on all points. Like, were the numbers Willow gave her really that solid? Sure, Jillian had pored over them, spent countless hours combing through the packet Willow had given Jillian, but she could have missed something. Worst case scenario, they could have been altered.
With her heart beating frantically and her stomach still doing flips, she quietly made her way out of Party Panties. With the lack of a bell to signal someone’s arrival and departure, she guessed neither were aware she was leaving. Or had been there. She began walking down the street with no particular place in mind.
Jillian hated to admit it, but the feeling in her gut wouldn’t go away. She’d been wrong. Wrong about giving up on her and Cole. She wanted to hold on to The Peekeasy so badly that she was compromising what she wanted. Damn it, she wanted The Peekeasy!
At a minimum, she wanted her dream. The dream where she was the sole owner of a beautiful, customer-oriented lingerie boutique—not a franchise—just a small store in LoDo where she would greet repeat clients by name, and know what colors and fabrics they preferred, and whether they looked good in a skin-tight corset or floaty babydoll. She longed for a boutique that sold carefully selected, high-quality lingerie and played a variety of music that sung about what was in your heart and didn’t compete with the thudding of your pulse.
She wanted – Cole? What was he doing here? She’d walked to Lacie’s Lingerie but instead of going inside she’d walked around to the alley and found herself sitting on one of the chaise lounge chairs on the outside patio that overlooked part of downtown. Or at least, what could be seen of downtown with half its towering buildings and mature trees; it wasn’t a perfect view. But it was good enough to clear her head.
Except from Cole.
She was sure that was his fancy car down below that just pulled into a miraculously empty spot on the opposite side of the alley. She wasn’t sure if it was the driver himself or the car but every time she was around it, it heated her
insides, sending delicious shivers down her arms and between her legs.
Listening to the smooth rumble as she waited for Mr. Handsome himself to exit the vehicle sent her into overdrive. The engine shut off and her knees trembled as she watched for Cole to get out. He probably didn’t even know she was up here. He was most likely not here looking for her. Which was why, when he got out wearing his standard black suit that looked basic on most men, but somehow made him look like a million dollars, her mouth shouted out his name before her brain had time to think.
He glanced up.
Her heart ached at his gorgeousness.
She waved, feeling slightly foolish.
The makeshift patio shook as he took the stairs and she willed her nerves to calm the hell down. He reached the landing and stopped a measly foot away from her, but might as well have been as far as the Grand Canyon.
Everything about him looked as great as it did when she’d watched him on television. His hair was tousled and the smooth skin of his jaw was marked with dark stubble. His emerald eyes didn’t carry the normal gleam they usually had. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t grouchy-looking either. That was a plus.
“Hey,” she said, a little breathlessly.
“Jillian.” His voice was low and the way he drew her name out made her spine tingle.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“We need to talk.”
Yeah, they did. There were a lot of things she wanted to tell him. One being that she was madly in love with him and the second being, how could they make it work.
“Okay, why don’t you sit down?” She scooted over on the lounge chair.
“I need to stand for this.” His shoulders were rigid and God, had she misjudged his feelings? Maybe he was here to say a final goodbye.
“Alright. I saw you on the news. Congratulations. The Francesca Project is officially official.”
“Thanks. It wasn’t the same without you there,” he said.
Her heart took a tentative step toward him. “Why?”
All Shook Up Page 21
