by Rosie Miller
But he stepped away. “I’ll walk you down if you’re leaving now, ma’am.”
She nodded and busied herself with getting her coat and making sure she had everything. She didn’t want to look at him or acknowledge what had just happened. She wasn’t getting caught like that again.
Fortunately, the office was only one floor above street level. He followed her out and down the stairs. His footsteps were quiet, almost stealthy.
Once they were outside, she turned to him, holding out her hand. He took it and again she felt the rough skin, the callouses that only come from hours of manual labor.
“It was really nice to meet you, Justine. I hope we’ll be doing business together.”
She liked the way her name sounded in his deep country voice. “I’m sure we will. I’ll call you in a couple of days. I’ll let you know how we’re going and we’ll arrange another meeting.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” He squeezed her hand slightly.
Was he flirting? “Me too,” she said, without thinking. She was acting like a teenager. She took her hand away briskly. “Good night,” she said, and walked away.
She strode down the busy street. She could still feel the warmth of his hand on hers. Then she couldn’t resist the urge to look back. The crowds parted for a second and she thought she saw him, standing, looking her way—like he was looking for her too. His height and his stillness made him stand out against the scurrying crowds. She half raised her hand in farewell—not sure if he could see her—but the figure responded and raised his hand too.
Chapter Two
No, no, no she told herself all the way home. No, and again no. She wasn’t going to phone Jackson, or google him, or his land, or do anything on the project, and she definitely definitely wasn’t going to think about the touch of his hand or the warmth of his skin or the way her name sounded when he said it. But the harder she tried the more she failed. Was it his eyes? His hair? His odd look of not really fitting his well-cut suit, or what?
Professional curiosity, she told herself, that’s all. She stretched out on the sofa, remembering the last time she’d felt like this about a client, and the trouble it had got her into. She wasn’t going there again.
Her phone rang and she snatched it up. She was hoping that somehow it was Jackson—that he’d been thinking about her. But it was Colin. She considered letting it go to voicemail, but knew he’d keep ringing until he got hold of her.
“Hello,” she said brusquely. “What do you want?”
“I hope I’m not disturbing you. You’re not out with your, uh, boyfriend?”
“Not right now, not yet,” she said, suddenly remembering she had claimed a prior engagement.
“I—uh—hope you weren’t just taking a shower or anything like that.” He snickered, like he was being particularly humorous or wittily suggestive—as opposed to just out of order.
“What do you want?”
“Oh, okay.” He seemed surprised she didn’t want to flirt—as if somehow being on the phone would change all her feelings about him. “It’s that new client—Jackson. I’ve been looking into the case.”
“I thought he was my client.” Didn’t Colin have any idea of professional etiquette? You didn’t just go nosing into someone else’s clients without asking first.
“Oh, well—not exactly. That’s not how we do things. We’ll be working together on this one. Very closely.” He snickered again like a horse with asthma.
Her heart sank. This was all she needed – more time with Colin—and especially with this client, the only one who had piqued her interest since she’d got there.
“So, it looks like it will be quite lucrative—a good contract.”
Justine resisted the temptation to ask Colin what he’d found out. She just wanted to get off the phone as quickly as she could.
“Do you think he’ll sign up with us? Colin asked.
“Too early to tell,” she said.
“How did the meeting go between you?”
She was still annoyed with him—because he’d made her angry and she’d made a bad—possibly crazy—first impression. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to blame Colin, but it was what she felt like doing. “Fine. But it wasn’t very professional of you to leave me there with him. He could have been anyone.”
“I thought you might like it.”
What was he getting at? Did he know her reputation? “What do you mean?”
“Just a little professional space—some privacy to work your magic. I didn’t want to get in your way, you know. You’re the one with the high-end experience.”
She let his flattery soothe her. “I did my best to make him aware of everything the agency can offer.”
He giggled down the phone. “I hope so—especially after the way you were when he first came in.”
“You followed me to the ladies’ bathroom,” she said coldly. “How was I meant to react? Anyway, I’ll get back to him once I’ve done some research. Then it’s up to him.”
“I know he spoke to a couple of other agencies today, so we’ve got competition. I hope you can reel him in. I’m counting on you.”
“Fine. I’ll do my best. See you, bye.” She ended the call before he could say anything else.
Great—now she was under pressure to get Jackson signed up. She sighed and gave in, getting out her tablet and a notebook, ready to do some research. She didn’t want to be outflanked by Colin on this one.
Two hours later she felt she knew everything there was to know about a little town in the middle of nowhere, its 500 or so inhabitants, two stores, one bar, and crucially, the river and the deep narrow valley. She could see the water company’s interest. It made an excellent site for a damn.
The town itself wouldn’t be affected, just the nearby valley. Unless the water company messed up the process and she could find some legal loopholes, their only hopes were finding a rare plant or animal whose habitat would be endangered by the flooding—and that was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Or a strong local campaign that could draw in some of the big environmental pressure groups. If she was back at her old company, she’d have thrown it down onto an intern and got on with something more winnable instead. But… Colin obviously wanted the contract—and, more importantly—it would mean seeing a lot more of Jackson again. Who knows what could happen?
Dangerous territory she told herself. She was a clean-living girl now and there would be no more dalliances with clients. But what about afterwards—when he wasn’t a client anymore? Maybe they’d have established a bond, a relationship by then, especially if she won the case?
She imagined Jackson looking down at her, with his broad shoulders, his strange eyes. He’d take her in his big strong arms and kiss her—long and deep, with love and passion—the way everyone wanted to be kissed.
No, no, no— no more stupid dreams about men who ended up being players, or married, or alpha-holes, or just not right somehow. She wasn’t going to think about Jackson. She would go to bed and have sweet and innocent dreams with not a man in sight.
* **
She spent the next morning at work putting together a package for Jackson—an outline of services, costs, likely outcomes and avenues they would pursue. Then she was ready to call him. She waited until Colin had left the room. She hated the way he listened in to every call she made. Her heart started thumping harder, and she cleared her throat a couple of times, suddenly uncertain as to how her voice would sound. She dialed his cell.
“Hello Justine.” Jackson’s voice was slow and sexy, almost a growl into the phone. “I was hoping you would be calling me soon.”
Was he flirting, or just eager to get on with business? “Hello Jackson.” Her voice was a little higher and breathier than usual. She enjoyed saying his name. It felt intimate somehow. “I have our proposition ready for you. I could email it to you—or we could meet do I can go through it with you in person.”
He paused. “That’s good to hear. I’m looking forward to seeing
what you have to offer.”
“I think you’ll find it very tempting,” she said, then checked herself—such blatant flirting was not her style—not any more.
“Oh, I’m sure I will.”
He was definitely flirting back. “So, by email or in person?” she asked.
He pondered. “Well, I really want to see what you have, but I’m tied up all day today and all day tomorrow. I don’t suppose—and please say if this is an intrusion into your personal time—that you could meet me this evening? I’d throw in a dinner if that would make it worth your while?”
He sounded so polite—so hopeful yet unsure—that she couldn’t help herself. She agreed before she’d even considered it for a second. She hoped she didn’t sound too keen, but she was sure her instantaneous “yes, dinner, how lovely, no, intrusion at all’ did sound at best eager, at worst really desperate. She was losing her skills—obvious flirting and then immediate acceptance—she needed to play harder to get.
Jackson asked about what kind of food she liked, where was a good place to meet, where would be easy for her to get to and so on.
He spent so long that she forgot about feeling desperate, and just enjoyed his care and attention. Alistair had always chosen where they’d gone. It had always been some little out of the way place. At first, she thought he just liked searching out unusual or up and coming places. After all, he could easily afford to go to the more famous or fashionable places.
Eventually she realized Alistair was just hiding from his wife and anyone who might recognize him. But Jackson wasn’t like that. He seemed to genuinely care that they met up somewhere she would like.
Time slowed down to a snail’s pace while she was waiting for their dinner date—‘business meeting’ she corrected herself. It was not a date. He’d have suggested the same if it was Colin leading the case, wouldn’t he? But Justine kept thinking about that spark between when they were in the office—and the way he had seemed to stand out in the crowd—staring after her as she walked away down the street—and she couldn’t help but wonder.
“So when are you going to show Jackson your proposal?” asked Colin standing too close to her for comfort, as usual.
She tried to lean back in her chair, to get some distance. He didn’t even ‘believe’ in deodorants, and this much proximity was not pleasant on any level.
“Come on Justine. I hope you haven’t lost your touch.”
“All set up. You don’t need to worry—or even think about it.”
“But I do, I do. So when’s the meeting. I’ll put it in my diary.”
She couldn’t tell him. She knew he would quite happily invite himself along tonight. He’d sit in between her and Jackson and talk about his borage and his tomatoes. Of course, even if she liked Colin—which she didn’t—she still wouldn’t want him there. It was going to be just her and Jackson. But nothing was going to happen she kept telling herself. It was all business, but maybe with just a pinch of pleasure thrown in.
“Friday, 10.30am, in his office.” She crossed her fingers behind her back as she lied. She would have to pretend the dinner date— ‘evening meeting’—she corrected herself, was Jackson’s idea. She could say it was a last minute rearrangement and that she just couldn’t get hold of Colin in time.
The evening finally arrived. She didn’t know what to wear—business suit or casual date? She went for something half-way between her office dress down and her usual highly polished style. She put aside the short skirts, plunging necklines and killer heels that she had worn for Alistair.
Instead she chose a soft flowing dress that clung in all the right places and showed off her figure without being too obvious. She would play it calm, play it cool, and not look too keen. She did her hair in what she thought of as a half-way up do—most of it piled up on her head but a lot of loose tendrils curling around her face and neck. She looked in the mirror one last time and put another layer of lipstick on. She looked okay—maybe the more natural look did suit her.
She took a cab to the restaurant. It looked perfect—a small, warm Italian place.
She went in and Jackson was already there.
He got to his feet and came towards her with his hands outstretched. “Justine. You look lovely.” He gripped her hands in his and she leaned in to kiss both his cheeks, inhaling the smell of his aftershave, feeling the roughness of his cheek against her skin.
“Hello Jackson,” she said, still holding onto his hands. She liked the feel of his warm skin and liked how close he was standing. She wanted to stay like that for the rest of the evening.
“You look lovely,” he said again, speaking softly, looking into her eyes.
She felt the spark flare again.
Abruptly he dropped her hands and stepped back, as if he was trying to avoid it too. “Our table,” he said gesturing. “I’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts on the land.”
“Of course.” Justine slid out her folder of notes as she sat down. She began telling him about her research. But as she was talking, she was wondering at his sudden change of mood. He had seemed so pleased to see her—so warm and tactile. Then he’d just closed down. He seemed to shut it off like it had never been there and they were talking business already.
As she went through the proposal, she looked at his face—the tanned, slightly rough skin—the remnants of a bruise under one eye—a scratch on his cheek—and a hint of stubble darkening his strong jaw. He looked like he had been fighting. Perhaps he boxed or did martial arts? Or his job in security was more hands-on than she’d realized. The odd mix of good manners and slight roughness, his slow voice and his expensive suit made him more attractive somehow.
But it was all going too quickly. They had already finished the main course by the time Justine had talked him through the proposal and answered all his questions.
Jackson sat back. He had the folder in his hands and looked from it to her face and back again. “This is very good. It’s very thorough. It’s more than I expected from your company and more than your competitors were able to offer.”
She nodded. She knew who else worked in their field and she knew she was better at this than all of them put together.
“So, will you sign with us?”
He paused then nodded, “I will.”
Justine took out the contract and had him sign it there and then. She knew better than to risk second thoughts or a change of heart.
She put away her copy. The business of the evening was complete. There was still desert and coffee to go. It was time to find out more about him.
She leaned forwards. “So tell me Jackson, how did a boy from the backwoods end up here?”
He smiled at her. “It’s a long story he said. But I’ve never really left. I go back there all the time, everyone in town is more or less one big extended family.”
“And do you have a family of your own – here in the city?” She was digging shamelessly now.
“No ma’am. I’m all alone in the world, except for those folks back home. And how about you? Where are you from?”
She told him about her upbringing in the suburbs, her mother who was a nurse, and father a truck driver.
Jackson watched her intently, asking more questions and seeming fascinated by everything she said.
But she didn’t tell him she’d been adopted by them when she was ten—or that her memories before that were sketchy, and strange and something she’d been encouraged to forget all about.
Instead, she talked about her college years down south, her return to the city and how she’d started out in law. She told him how pleased she’d been to get internship and then a job at her old firm. But then she remembered she didn’t work there anymore. She tried to keep the same enthusiasm in her voice as she hastily explained about her crisis of conscience and move into the charity sector.
“That seems a big change, but I’m glad you made it. I could never have afforded a firm like the one you used to work for. And then I’d never have met you.”
He smiled into her eyes.
Did he mean that in a business or a personal sense? She smiled back at him. “You’d have been having dinner with Colin.”
He shook his head, laughing. “Somehow, that doesn’t have the same appeal.”
“Because he doesn’t have my legal know-how?” she teased.
“Well, that wasn’t exactly what I was thinking.”
Before she knew it they were finishing their coffee and Jackson was calling for the check. She’d told him so much about herself and learned almost nothing about him.
They left the restaurant together and stood on the sidewalk.
“It was a lovely evening. Thank you.” She was being honest. It was a long time since she’d felt so relaxed and yet so charmed and intrigued.
“No, thank you,” he replied. “It’s not often I get to spend the evening with someone like you.”
“Really? What do you mean?”
He looked startled for a moment. “I just meant, someone… beautiful, charming, intelligent, good company.”
She felt sure that hadn’t been what he meant, but she wasn’t complaining at the compliments. “I’m sure we need to have more evening meetings then.”
“Yes, perhaps we do.” He stepped closer to her and looked into her eyes. He took her hands in his again. His warm skin and strong fingers enclosed her hands.
Was he going to kiss her properly, or just air kiss goodbye?
He came closer. His lips touched hers.
She responded immediately and his arms went round her tightly. She pressed her body against his. His tongue parted her lips, and pushed slowly into her mouth, entwining with hers.
She felt his body hard and strong, and knew he was aroused. He pulled her even more tightly against him and kept on kissing her, deep and long, his breathing heavier now like he wanted her so badly.
She wanted it to last forever, here on this street corner, just the two of them kissing.
He tangled his hand into her hair and held her head as he slowly withdrew his tongue, nibbling on her lips, kissing them again and again like he couldn’t stop, before finally raising his head. She felt her whole body tingle and knew she wanted him.
