by Cass Sellars
Jess whipped around and saw Skylar standing just inside her doorway.
“I made it. How about you?” Jess smiled broadly at Skylar, who wore casual dress pants and small ballet flats.
“I fell asleep like someone had hit me with a bat. I had a really great dinner, though. And that says a lot about your business meetings, Jess. Thank you.”
“I was out fairly quickly myself.” Jess ignored the mixed emotions swirling like a cocktail in her mind. She tried to think about what made her like Skylar so much. She was smart, funny, quirky, and more than a little attractive in a disorganized sort of way. Perhaps it was the stew of all those things that seemed like a refreshing change from the polished and pretentious. She stood to meet Skylar halfway. “You get to rest up this weekend—no marathon meetings, I promise.”
Skylar laughed. “Want to regroup next week about my digging for accounting gold? I think I’ll have some more for you.”
“Sounds good.” She stopped herself from complimenting Skylar’s hair, which fell in shiny gilded waves around her shoulders, tamed by a thick black headband.
Jess stopped her from leaving. “Skylar, I hope I didn’t do or say anything that was inappropriate or that made you uncomfortable. I kind of left work behind.”
“Of course not. What makes you ask?” Skylar looked genuinely puzzled.
“I guess I’m hypersensitive that I never make anyone who works here uncomfortable, that’s all.” More so than normal, she thought. No, she would never date an employee. Bad for business, inviting lawsuits, stirring the office gossip pot—all of it. She couldn’t decide if she was more concerned about making Skylar comfortable or giving herself an excuse not to follow her feelings where they shouldn’t be leading.
“Trust me. I really enjoyed getting to know you. And I’m waiting for my next batch of Jess Ivan adolescence stories. There have to be more.”
“I’m glad. And I look forward to it.”
“Me too.” Skylar slipped back to the hallway and Jess stepped toward her window. She glanced over the bullpen to watch her walk away. For the first time, maybe ever, Jess wished she wasn’t the boss.
* * *
Jess removed the baked lasagna from the oven and let it rest on the stove. She hoped that Whitney might offer some distraction or even clarity surrounding her scattered thoughts. Jess’s drive home that afternoon had consisted of her convincing herself that she was overthinking everything. Her and Whitney’s casual thing was fine, and looking for butterflies and rainbows was something teenagers did. Single women in their late forties kissed the ground that women like Whitney Fields walked on. She quickly decided that she would do just that this evening. She reassembled the stack of invoices now complete with her initialed approvals and placed them near her briefcase.
She heard a hurried knock before the door opened and Whitney called out unnecessarily loudly. Jess laughed when she nearly slammed into her on the other side of the door.
“Oh! Sorry. I figured you’d have your nose in accounts payables or something.” Whitney glanced at the clock on her phone. “Wow, it took forever to get here. I was on the phone with the Vaughns and they can’t make up their minds.” She shook her head and shifted her luggage in her hands.
“You brought very nice presents, I see.” Jess accepted the bottle of pricey cognac and slid the chilled white wine from under her other arm. The large overnight bag indicated that Whitney had no intention of sleeping alone, and Jess had expected nothing less. Their Friday nights usually followed this pattern. Jess wondered when anything they did became usual. Routine was comforting to her—usually.
“Only the best for you. I need a drink like you wouldn’t believe. Clients are crazy.” Whitney kissed her cheek and sighed.
“Dinner is ready, so leave work somewhere out there. Decompress.” Jess was intent on being present for this evening. She couldn’t fault Whitney for being less than Jess wanted her to be. Her father regularly told her to set her expectations high for herself and let everyone set theirs, and that would keep her from being disappointed. She couldn’t help but be disappointed that she couldn’t feel more for Whitney.
Whitney bent to drop the bag on the floor. “Gladly. It smells divine.”
“So, do you, by the way.” Jess needed to refocus and give this a chance. She skimmed her lips along Whitney’s neck and took in her perfume.
Whitney fell against her chest as Jess slowly drew her in and inhaled her before languidly pressing her lips over Whitney’s.
“How long before dinner is ruined?” Whitney said suggestively, pulling Jess toward the master bedroom. Jess allowed the dark wave of desire to overtake her as she stopped caring about dinner, butterflies, or cute messy blondes in her office.
“We have time. There’s always time.” Her voice was deep and thick with need as she peeled the blouse from Whitney’s petite frame and ran her tongue along her pale shoulder.
“I missed you, Jess,” Whitney whispered as Jess detected goose pimples coating the surface of her skin.
“I’m glad. I’m happy you’re here.” Jess stroked her hands over her body, caressing her bottom and pulling her firmly against her.
“Prove it.” Whitney let her head fall back so Jess could cover more skin.
The damp sensation Jess detected between her thighs betrayed her further. Jess pressed her into the mattress, relieving her of the tight black skirt still hugging her narrow hips. She heard Whitney inhale abruptly when Jess nipped at her inner thigh.
“You ready for me?” Jess moved closer to her center.
“God yes. Please.” Whitney’s eyes closed as she gripped the bedding beneath her.
Jess obliged, sealing her mouth hotly over Whitney just before she felt her arch against her tongue. Whitney moaned and writhed as Jess devoured her enthusiastically. She couldn’t remember what misgivings she’d had about their relationship. The perfect Friday night included an insanely compatible woman who adored her. Jess refused to consider that great sex might whitewash everything and make her forget about chemical attractions unexplored and unexplained. And that in so many other ways, there seemed to be something missing. For now, this was good enough.
An hour later Whitney rolled into Jess. “Are you awake?” She tickled her fingernails over Jess’s breasts.
“Are you kidding? I have to be, in case you roll off the bed or strain something.”
“Oh, so just to be my guardian, right?” Whitney said skeptically.
“Well, that and to make sure I don’t find a place I haven’t put my mouth.” Jess bit at Whitney’s shoulder and rubbed a thumb over her sensitive nipple.
“You’re dirty.” Whitney breathed hotly in Jess’s ear and began to softly kiss her neck. “I bet I could make you come again.”
“Enough!” Jess forced herself to disengage by playfully pushing Whitney to the other side of the bed. “Dinner will be cold, and the bread will be hard.” She rolled away and grabbed her button-down oxford from the floor, only securing one button before pulling on faded cotton boxer shorts from her drawer.
“Fine. Be that way, but you better get your second wind before dessert. I happen to love sex with you, FYI.” She kneeled on the bed and looped her arms around Jess’s neck.
“You’re amazing, sweetheart.” Jess meant the words; she couldn’t remember being more sexually in sync with anyone in a long time. She held her mouth to Whitney’s and inhaled and wondered if that should be enough.
“Make sure you’re decent for dinner, I can’t afford these distractions.” Jess tapped her thigh and walked toward the kitchen. She heard Whitney padding down the hall a moment later in one of Jess’s fitted tees, which she was wearing like a minidress.
“So, where do you want to eat?” Whitney snatched the wine from the fridge and poured herself a glass. “And I mean location in the house, in case you’re thinking of sexual replies,” Whitney teased.
Jess laughed and tried to assume an innocent affect. “How about the balcony?”
/> “Boring.” She laughed. “You and that damn balcony, I think you could draw every house out there.”
“Probably. I just like the quiet in the middle of the city, I guess,” Jess said a bit defensively.
“How about you have a carpet party with me? If it’s good enough for the office…”
Somehow, the reference to her time spent with Skylar on the floor irked her, but she tried not to show it. “Okay. Whatever you like.” Jess handed plates across the bar, following with the open wine bottle and silverware. Whitney tucked her legs under her and sat near the coffee table.
Jess parked on the couch behind her. “Is there a movie you might want to watch?” she asked around a mouthful of lasagna.
Whitney shrugged. “You pick. But nothing scary. Something romantic or funny.”
Jess flipped through the channels and ate slowly, watching as Whitney became engrossed in dinner and a Jennifer Aniston film. She relaxed and tried not to think of work. And then she conceded that she was, once again, trying to decide if being in a perfectly adequate relationship was enough. Skylar was never going to be a solution since there could never be anything between them, but she could be the catalyst that made Jess reevaluate her current concessions. She glanced back to Whitney, who was chewing slowly while glued to the television screen.
By the end of the movie, Whitney was sound asleep at the end of the sofa. Jess cleaned the dishes and put away the leftovers without disturbing her. She opened the cognac and quietly let herself onto the balcony, grateful for the crisp air and the lights of her city. She chastised herself for wishing she was alone in her house and felt guilty that she still couldn’t offer Whitney more than what she had given her already. How long should she wrestle with the idea that settling couldn’t, or shouldn’t, be good enough? She couldn’t picture Whitney in her long-term future, but she didn’t like the fact that it seemed like a pretty desolate place, either. Selfish, thy name is Jess. Scolding herself made it worse, and the decision loomed larger.
Only a few minutes had passed when Whitney’s exploring fingers skidded around her waist and laced at her sternum. “Come to bed, love. You have to be tired.”
“You go get ready, I’ll be there in a minute.” She felt Whitney slide away without a challenge. She forced herself to follow.
* * *
Jess nursed a lukewarm coffee and stared into the morning fog from her chaise lounge, her feet tucked under a fleece throw she had extracted from the patio storage container. She was loath to share this space, her solitude, and she knew it was only a matter of minutes before peace was no longer hers. Counter to her intentions from the night before, every morning after with Whitney seemed like a fundamental setback to her decision making. Every impulsive evening encouraged Whitney’s apparent feelings for her that she knew she was unable to adequately reciprocate. Once again, they hadn’t talked about permanence, but she wasn’t dumb, Whitney planned on more and Jess had to stop the train—if not for her sanity, for Whitney’s sake.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sleepy purr of the woman who had writhed under her hands and slept contentedly in her bed. Her exploring fingers were enticing Jess to continue where they had left off.
“Come back to bed, I think you’re one up on me.” Whitney’s voice floated over the damp morning fog.
Jess smiled in spite of her misgivings and returned the kiss. “Always leave them wanting more, right? Besides, Wade’s is bringing breakfast.”
“Ooh, how you spoil me, Ms. Ivan. Your girl is definitely getting used to this treatment.”
Jess cringed involuntarily and stepped past her on the way to the coffeepot. “Do you want some?” She gestured with the coffee carafe.
Whitney smiled seductively and stepped closer to curve her body against Jess’s back. “Of absolutely everything.”
“And I thought I was the one with a one-track mind.” Jess tried to lighten the mood, or at least direct the conversation to a place where she didn’t feel conflict or guilt.
“You’ve been so sexy lately. I can’t stay away from you. I even had to come by your office to try to lure you away.” She circled Jess’s waist with her arms and arched back to look in her eyes.
“Oh yeah. Sorry about that.” Jess pictured Skylar arranged on her office carpet. She somehow wished she was back on that floor poring over invoices instead of in her kitchen with Whitney.
“So, tell me about the chaotic blond chick on your floor. Never thought I’d have to say those words.”
The laugh was slightly rueful, and Jess wondered how long she had been waiting for the entrée into the subject.
“Skylar? She’s my new finance manager. She’s doing a great job uncovering the accounting dust bunnies long left unattended.” Jess’s response accompanied a casual shrug as she wiped a smear of coffee and stray granules of sugar from the quartz countertop instead of returning Whitney’s embrace.
“So, whose idea was the cute little floor picnic?” It was the second time she had mentioned it, and it didn’t go unnoticed.
“She likes to work with everything laid out—very linear thinker.” Jess tapped her temple and put the cream back in the door of the fridge.
“Kind of nervy asking your new boss to sit on the floor, don’t you think?” Whitney sounded slightly indignant.
“She didn’t ask anything. It was just easier considering all the files we went through, and quite frankly I have enough stuffy formal meetings with bankers and lawyers. It was a refreshing change.” Jess crossed her arms and leaned against the counter.
“I just mean that she could get the wrong impression of your working relationship, sweetie. You never want to find yourself at their level completely because the lines can blur. Business 101.” Whitney arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow and sipped her coffee.
Jess was suddenly angry that she needed to defend her business style or defend Skylar. “The way I conduct business has always worked for me, and we don’t do levels,” she said with finality, maintaining an even tone. “Billy said that once we divide into pieces, the fractures occur where we drew the lines.”
Whitney apparently detected the edge. “No need to take umbrage, honey, she just strikes me as someone who might get her feelings hurt when the boss isn’t paying her as much attention.” She waved the sentence away and took a loud sip from her mug.
“You met her for like five minutes, Whit. There’s no way you had time to make any kind of accurate judgment about her, not that you should want to. She’s interested in righting the financials and curbing expenses. Not anything else.” Jess bristled at the fact that Whitney sounded like an elitist.
“Jess, come on. I don’t have to tell you how many crushes women have on you. You’re powerful, sexy, and charismatic. That’s the libido triad. No one would blame her if little Skylar had a crush.”
“Whitney, stop. She’s a professional and the best manager I’ve had in there for ages. You’re being ridiculous. Seriously.” Jess briefly thought that she should have been the one annoyed that Whitney had inserted herself into her business day without so much as a phone call. Not even wives did that, and casual dating companions certainly did not. She chose not to go there.
“Hey, babe. Take a deep breath. We can talk about something else. I didn’t know that would stress you out. You know I only care about you, and I hate it when things upset you at work. Not another word from me.” She placed the flat of her hand over Jess’s chest and waited for her response.
The very slight sensation of Whitney’s hands was nothing, and yet it almost felt like they were around her throat. Jess didn’t like to be restricted by subject or person, nor did she like feeling claustrophobic, and suddenly, it felt like someone was sucking the air out of her room.
Wade’s rang the doorbell, thwarting further thoughts of running Whitney out of her house. But she definitely had some soul searching to do.
Chapter Seven
Skylar tapped numbers into her keyboard and heard the front door click open.
She knew the silent isolation would eventually be eclipsed by the Monday craziness, but she’d still hoped for a few more minutes of solitude.
Jess’s voice startled her, despite the fact that she knew someone else was in the building. She often joked that she had the startle reflex of a fainting goat. She looked up to find Jess standing at her door in narrow black slacks and a crisp ecru cotton shirt.
“You do know you don’t have to be here until eight, right?” She smiled at Skylar, who suddenly remembered she was barefoot and knotted into her desk chair.
“Start times are for sissies.” Her best John Wayne impression was more than a bit lacking, she knew. She struggled to unfold and slip her feet back into her shoes.
Jess laughed at her. “Seriously, what time did you get here? I’m going to have to restrict your key card so you can’t kill yourself before third quarter.”
“Five a.m.,” she answered, hoping Jess was joking about the restriction. “I work much better in the morning. Ask me more than two plus two after three p.m. and I can’t guarantee the accuracy of the answer.” She stood and pulled her arms behind her to counter the two hours of hunching she had done at the computer.
“Grab your mug, the least I can do is get you more coffee.” She gestured for her to follow.
“That, I will gladly accept. How was your weekend? You and Whitney do anything fun?” She watched Jess jog up the stairs in front of her. Her energy was mysterious and somehow a little inebriating. Oh, God, that silly Ivan Flush is possibly really a thing.
“Just dinner at my house. You?” She seemed to want to deflect quickly.
“Chinese takeout, a run around Lake Merritt, and a serious closet clean-out.”
“Wow. That sounds productive. No chance she’s coming back, huh?”
“That would be an unequivocal, emphatic, resounding no.” Skylar stared at Jess and realized she was carefully watching her mouth as she began to speak.
“Hmm. You should think about it for a minute to be sure.” Jess smiled at her.
