by Stella
“My back is killing me.” I crumpled to the floor on my stomach and stretched my arms and legs out like a starfish. “Can you walk on my spine, please?”
“What have you done over the last five years when your back hurt?”
I could tell she was about to tell me not to answer her question, assuming my answer would’ve included another woman, so I spoke up before she had the chance to dismiss me. “I haven’t done anything. Which is probably why it hurts so much now.” And that was the truth. It didn’t matter how much pain I was in, there was no way I’d ask anyone else to walk on my spine.
She rolled her eyes and relented. “Come on.” Then she held her hand out to help me off the floor.
I followed her without reservation as she led me to her bedroom. My heart began to pound in my chest, wondering how we’d gone from me spread eagle on the carpet to her telling me to lie down on her mattress. I did as she instructed and got on my side at the very edge of the bed.
“Bend your top knee up toward your chest.” She pushed it up a tad higher and held it. “Now roll your back toward me and your knee toward the ground.”
I couldn’t count how many pops came from my aching spine, and all I felt was instant relief. Then she had me flip around to repeat the stretch on the opposite side. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“You’re not the only one who had to learn to fend for themselves.” Her comment wasn’t snippy, just sad.
I’d tried for as long as I could to resist comforting her, but the look on her face ended any hope of making it another hour. In the blink of an eye, I leaned up and snaked my arm around her waist. She came with no resistance and landed on the bed next to me. I rolled on top of her and settled between her legs. It didn’t go unnoticed that she shifted her thighs to allow room for me, and when her hand cupped my cheek, I lowered my mouth to hers.
Lexi welcomed me, joined in the kiss, and lazily wrapped her arms around my back. The moment her fingers touched bare skin under my shirt, I knew she’d come home. She’d lost the battle and surrendered the war. Instead of celebrating my victory, I adored her the way I should have for the last five years. Other than my shirt, our clothes didn’t come off, I didn’t take things at a pace she couldn’t handle, I just reminded her of all the places I loved to touch that made her moan.
We finally broke apart—I had to stop, or I wouldn’t be able to—and she curled into my side with her head on my shoulder. Her soft hair tickled my arm when she moved, and I grinned when she leaned up to kiss my jaw. She’d just given me the greatest gift I could hope to receive. I wanted to stand up and beat my fists on my chest like a caveman. Since that would likely scare her and make me look like a prehistoric fool, I silently relished the sentiment.
I turned my head to meet her lips again with a soft peck. My forehead dipped to hers, and I closed my eyes. “I love the feel of your lips on mine. Nothing could ever compare.”
She snickered, although she didn’t say anything.
I pulled back and tipped her chin with my fingers so I could see her eyes. “What?”
“I’m sure you’ve had plenty of kisses that were just as good in the last few years.” Lexi looked down, not wanting me to see the vulnerability behind her comment.
“Not one.”
This time she barked out a laugh of disbelief. “Yeah, I’m sure every girl in California kissed like your grandma or slobbered all over your face.”
“I wouldn’t know. I never kissed a girl in California. Or Washington for that matter.”
Her startled eyes would have made me laugh had we been talking about anything else. “No one?” Hope formed in her expression and tone.
“I may not have been able to follow through with any other plan or kept any other promise, but I’ve been faithful. It’s always been you, Lexi. It always will be. I never so much as went on a date with another woman, much less touched one.”
She kissed my jaw again, tucked her head back into the crook of my neck, and then rested her hand on my chest over my heart. I covered her fingers with mine and closed my eyes. For the first time in five years, the two of us tuned out the world and found peace in the other. With her warm body pressed against mine, I drifted off to sleep.
13
Lexi
I spent the first half of the day holed up in a conference room on the third floor. After Chris uploaded the program to the server, the team members were able to download it onto their iPads so we could go through the features. I wasn’t going to be involved in the pitch, so I had to ensure they knew the ins and outs of what Chris put together.
As a whole, the group was excited by what we’d accomplished and floored I’d made it happen in a couple days. I gathered my things while they filed out with words of thanks, leaving only Brad behind. Ever since I’d shared my idea and he’d been kicked out of the meeting that night, he’d had nothing nice to add and tried to devalue everything I said. He’d kept quiet this morning, and I prayed I’d make it out of the room without incident.
With my iPad and notes in my arms, I turned to exit, only to be inches from his face. The wicked grin that stretched across his lips churned my stomach almost as much as the feel of his fingers on my cheek. Starting just below my eye, he trailed them down my jaw to my chin where he pulled the skin just enough to part my lips.
“You must suck one hell of a dick to have gotten an executive to write an entire program for you in a matter of days.”
I wasn’t sure if his words were meant to entice me or issue a warning. I didn’t move—not even my eyes flicked to his while I waited for him to turn me loose.
“With all the talk about Dr. Fellatio floating around on the floor this morning, I have to wonder if you’ve sought her out.” He snickered and then grunted. “I hear her services are worth thousands…maybe they paid off, and you’ll get that promotion you’ve spent so much time on your knees trying to earn.”
I couldn’t stop myself from delivering a menacing glare at his crass insinuation.
“First Martin—which I thought was bold, seeing your age difference. He’s at least twenty years your senior, but it’s a tough ladder to climb as a woman. I have to give you props for going after Patrick. With him in your pocket—or rather, you in his pants—you’ve got a golden ticket to any position in this company you want. Well played.”
He dropped his hold on my chin, and his fingers fell to the top of my blouse. With just the flick of his wrist, he popped open the top button, exposing more of my chest, and I stepped out of his reach. Anger seethed just below the surface. This was the second time this man had treated me like trash and talked to me in a way no human—much less a woman—should ever be addressed.
Instead of engaging in a verbal war that would escalate to screaming and a fight of epic proportion, I pushed by him, using my shoulder to nudge him out of the way, and practically ran to the elevator.
Once inside, I debated on pressing the five or the two. I desperately wanted to talk to Chris, to tell him what Brad had said and have him defend my honor. Only, hours ago when we’d ridden to work together, after spending the previous twenty-four hours acting like teenagers who’d just started dating, he’d agreed to stay on his floor at my request until we could figure out how to handle the fraternization issue. We’d both be at risk of losing our jobs, and there was a lot we needed to discuss before either of us faced that fate. Yet now I worried about the confrontation that just took place that Brad knew more than even he was aware of.
I glanced at the time on my iPad and determined with only four hours left in the day, I could power through on my floor without risk of another encounter with Brad. Then, Chris and I could talk safely, without prying ears and eyes, when he took me home. I mashed the two with more force than necessary and then darted to my cubicle praying Carl was at lunch.
Upon seeing the desk across from mine empty, I let out a sigh of relief, unloaded my arms, and took my seat. The second I laid my head down to try to collect my thoughts, they were in
terrupted.
“Hey there, Doc.” His words seemed to echo throughout the floor, even though I doubted anyone else heard him.
I shot upright. “Shut. Up. Oh my God, someone will hear you!” I hissed.
He waved me off. “It’s all over the floor anyhow. Everyone’s talking about Dr. Fellatio. Do you have any idea how many women in this building want to get on your calendar?”
My mouth gaped.
“I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sell your services when Jasmine told me how much you charge, but women have been stuffing money in my pockets like I’m swinging on a pole in a G-string.”
“Please tell me you’re kidding?”
“Nope.” He held up a leather day planner for me to see. “I’ve got it all under control. I’m great at keeping a calendar and taking notes. I’ve even gotten contracts signed and deposits. We need to talk about the hours you’d like to keep appointments, and then there’s the matter of my fee.”
“Carl—do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Yeah, booked you through the end of the year and made bank. You’re welcome.” He looked at me like I was ungrateful, tossed his new calendar on his desk, and huffed.
I pushed my chair to the edge of the cube to make sure there wasn’t anyone around. Thankfully, the floor remained quiet, and most of the staff was at lunch. “Tell me, genius, how am I going to meet with people who work in this building and them not know who Dr. Fellatio is?” I had hoped after a week passed with no mention of what all Carl learned at girls’ night that I was in the clear. Apparently not.
He rolled his eyes as though it were an insipid question. “They had to sign the confidentiality agreement.” He held his finger in front of his lips like it was a secret.
With my fingers to my temples, I tried to ease the stress of the last twenty minutes and figure out how to douse this flame rather than further ignite it. “How many people have you signed on as new clients, Carl?” I didn’t bother looking at him—I was afraid I’d reach across the desk and strangle him. Jail would certainly lead to unemployment, and right now, I only faced humiliation and termination.
“I’d have to do the math, but I booked an appointment with one new client Monday through Thursday at seven o’clock each night—so you can eat dinner and have Fridays off—then you can schedule follow-ups at eight thirty with your current clients. Jasmine said you don’t meet with them all on a regular basis so it should work.” He appeared pleased with his plan.
I just stared at him while he rambled, dumbfounded my life had come to this.
“So, four new clients per week”—he licked his thumb and flipped through the pages of his calendar—“and there are twelve weeks left in the year.” His lips moved, and he appeared to be counting on his fingers.
“Forty-eight?”
“Sounds about right. And I have a waitlist for the first of the year. Those I booked put down fifty percent and will pay the other half when they get their copy of the signed contract back.”
“Your math can’t be right.”
“Well technically, it was your math.”
I snatched the calendar from his grubby hands and flipped through, counting each name as I went while trying not to focus on how many of these women I’d shared coffee with in the breakroom. Forty-eight new clients.
“Don’t get discouraged. I’ve only been working on this for a few hours.”
“And you collected cash?”
He looked proud of himself. “That’s the only way to get on the calendar.”
“Carl…that’s one hundred and sixty-eight thousand dollars in deposits.”
“And?”
“Where are you keeping that money?” It all started to make sense.
Carl created a buzz in the building about Dr. Fellatio, who people believed was more of an urban legend than a reality. Brad connected me to it even if he hadn’t put all the pieces in the right order. It was only a matter of time before this house of cards came crumbling to the ground.
“Under my desk.”
I hit my head trying to duck down by my chair to see into the foot space Carl referred to—all I saw were his shoes. Hysterically, I returned to face him with watery eyes and a hand on my forehead to ease the pain. “There’s nothing there, Carl!”
“It’s in the safe.”
“When did you get a safe?” I’d totally abandoned the notion of remaining quiet and calm. Even if nine-one-one could help me, I wouldn’t be able to dial the numbers fast enough.
“This weekend at Walmart. I brought it up this morning.” He kicked what I assumed to be the device in question. “Heavy sucker. Good thing I’ve been hitting the course upstairs.” He squeezed his bicep to indicate his newfound strength.
Somehow, I didn’t think swinging a putter helped much, but I didn’t have it in me to burst his bubble. At least not about that.
He slapped a stack of paper down on my desk that he’d pulled out of his drawer.
“What’s this?”
“The contracts you need to sign so I can collect the rest of the money.”
It dawned on me, staring at the first page of my standard contract, there in black and white was my name. Every person who’d seen a copy of this had confirmation of my identity. “My name is all over these.” I’d said it under my breath—more to myself than my cubemate—but leave it to Carl to point out the obvious.
“Nobody knows your last name anyhow.”
I’d missed lunch dealing with the ad team, Brad, and then finally Carl. I wasn’t hungry; I just needed to get out of the office. A Starbucks run was the easiest way to do it. I didn’t bother asking my cubie if he wanted anything. I just slipped out while he was on the phone talking to a banker about having an armed car meet him at the front door for a large cash deposit. I should have worried about whose account that money would go into or how he expected to make a deposit of that size in cash without question, but I had no doubt he’d find a way.
I stopped by Jasmine’s desk to see if she wanted me to pick anything up and also to give myself an alibi if anyone questioned where I was. Either she wasn’t back from lunch, or she was actually doing her job instead of plotting with Chris and Carl. A coffee run would only give me a fifteen- to twenty-minute reprieve, and that was if I took my time. The stairs were more appealing than the elevator—hell, a dark alley in a bad part of town at night with a knife to my throat held more appeal than facing anyone at Seneca. I didn’t know who Carl talked to or who read and signed a contract. The entire building was a landmine.
When my phone rang in my purse, I expected it to be Carl or possibly Jasmine. Candi’s name wasn’t even on my radar. I considered sending her to voicemail, yet at the last minute, I answered the call.
“Hey, girlfriend.” Her finger snap came through the line loud and clear.
“Hey, Candi.” I hadn’t talked to her since girls’ night and wondered what I was in for with her call.
“Patrick said you guys have been getting along. Must be going really well if you spent the whole weekend together.” She just went straight for the gusto.
I didn’t want to be rude. Her heart was in the right place; I just couldn’t do this right now. “How have you been?” Thankfully, distracting her took little more than a shiny object or a cookie.
“Actually, that’s why I called.” She should have led with that. “I was going to tell you over ice cream and pillow fights; unfortunately, our night ended without any good girl time.”
“So…”
“Oh. Yeah. Christopher and I talked. You were totally right. Proud owner of the original V-card. He wants to wait until marriage.”
Wow. This guy really was unique. “Is it a religious thing?”
“What would him not wanting to have sex before he got married have to do with God?”
I could go down this bunny trail. But I won’t. “Nothing, sorry. How’d you guys leave it?”
“We’re working through all the Cs in creative ways. And I wanted to thank y
ou.”
“For what?” I hadn’t done anything.
Candi and I had really only had one session before her train totally derailed. She hadn’t learned a single technique, and other than listen to her and talk about relationships, I’d taught her nothing.
“We added a fourth C.”
I was afraid to ask. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Carat.”
“Like the vegetable?” I wasn’t surprised at the level of confusion this conversation brought on in a matter of minutes.
She laughed. “No, silly. As in a diamond.”
“You’re engaged?”
“Thanks to you.”
I hadn’t played any part in that.
Candi swooned with a sigh into the phone. “He’s everything I ever hoped for, Alex. He gets me. He loves me. We talk. And I know he doesn’t keep me around just to get me naked.”
I forced excitement instead of doubt in my voice. “I’m really happy for you.” If anyone could make this work, Candi could.
I believed that when she committed to someone or something, she gave it her all.
“Anyway, I know you’re busy at work. I just wanted to tell you the good news. I won’t need any more appointments with Dr. Fellatio.” She paused, sounding choked up. “I’d still like to hang out as friends, though.”
By the looks of things, I needed as many people in my corner as I could find. She was ditzy and often didn’t understand the simplest of concepts, but she was loyal and sweet and kind—not to mention one hell of a stylist. “Me too.”
“Oh! I almost forgot. Will you be my maid of honor?”
I stopped walking, realizing I now stood outside Starbuck’s door. I’d been on autopilot since the phone rang. Not even the busy Atlanta sidewalks or the congestion of traffic registered around me. A couple months ago, I would have scoffed at the notion of this woman ever being a friend. She’d wormed her way into my world with an uproar, and I couldn’t imagine her not being a part of it. “I’d love that.”
