Jaded (The Butterfly Memoirs)

by Kane, M. J.

  With the size of that thing, I expected a poodle or some other small dog’s head to pop up.

  “Do you accept corporate cards?”

  I nodded. “As long as it has a Visa or Master Card logo.”

  She handed me the card and waited for me to type up the paperwork. “Will this be a self-installation or do you need a professional install? There’s an additional fee, per computer.”

  “Professional install. Since they are clearance items, do they still come with warranty?”

  “Yes, and there’s an additional discount from the warranty from your previous computer, which will increase your savings.”

  “Thank you. Now, I need them tonight and—”

  “We don’t have an installer available tonight. I can put you on the schedule for tomorrow morning.” I glanced up as her face went from the softened look of relief, to angry again.

  “No, I need it tonight, not tomorrow. In fact, I need an entire hard drive saved so I can retrieve some important work.”

  I glanced over at Ralph who had finally completed his phone call and looked worse for wear. As great as he was at his job, sending him to handle a triple install with a woman like Ms. Phillips would probably send the poor guy home crying.

  “I don’t have anyone available for tonight. Ralph can come tomorrow morning. He’ll get you taken care of and see what he can do about your hard drive.”

  She glanced over at Ralph who now quivered in his boots. “No, I want you. I don’t trust anyone else.”

  “Unfortunately, as store manager, I don’t do customer installations anymore.”

  “That’s not going to work for me. I need you.” Her eyes zeroed on me and softened slightly, almost like a plea.

  I loved my job and the money was good, but a day hadn’t gone by when I didn’t miss going on service calls and working alone. I reviewed my options. Dale and Stephanie would be here in the morning and both were great techs.

  I studied her. Her cat-like stare bore into me, waiting for my reply. She was determined to have her way. If I said no, I was sure she’d have a challenging remark to convince me to get the job done. I liked challenges. Working with Ms. Phillips seemed like a challenge. Since tomorrow was my day off, ensuring she was a satisfied customer, wouldn’t be a problem. I could handle this job off the clock. It would be a great change of pace.

  “How about this…I’ll do the install myself in the morning. What’s the earliest I can arrive?”

  “I’ll open for you anytime.”

  I swallowed hard. Her statement, coupled with the ‘I need you,’ was not helping. I ignored my thoughts, chalking it up to over a year of celibacy and the presence of a fine woman. How the hell did she manage to stir me up on so many levels?

  “How about six a.m.?”

  She grimaced. “I’m not a morning person, but I need this done, so six it is.”

  I finished writing up the sale, processed her payment, and handed her the receipt. To my surprise, she held out her hand to shake mine.

  “Thank you, Mr. Givens. You have no idea what this means to me.”

  With that, she disappeared out the door and into the cool evening air.

  ***

  "Zachariah, you don’t have to hang around with me,” my mother said.

  “I know.” I reached into the cabinet for two plates, silverware, and cups.

  I studied my mom’s profile as she peered into the bag of chicken wings and French fries. She was still too thin to my liking, despite my attempts to help her eat healthy. Six months of chemotherapy had taken its toll, whittling away the vibrant woman who raised me. Her skin had lost its healthy glow; her caramel complexion waned and held a dark grey undertone.

  Her long graying mane no longer graced her shoulders. Once her hair began falling out due to chemo treatments, she’d had it cut low. It had grown since then, but she decided to keep it cut short, barely longer than my own close shave. I missed the grey and black curls that once adorned her head. They had been a testament of her wisdom and amazing ability to persevere through the hardships of her life.

  Yet, despite everything she’d endured physically and mentally in the last year, her eyes still conveyed the true beauty of her mind.

  I loved my mother. Not just because she was my only living parent, but because she taught me so much.

  After setting the dinnerware on the table, I took a moment to pull her into my arms while being sure not to squeeze too tightly. Even though her cancer had gone into remission, and she no longer received chemo, her body still ached.

  She sighed and leaned against me. “I enjoy you checking on me, but you need a life of your own, son.”

  I kissed her forehead before releasing her. “You are my life, Mom.”

  She laughed lightly. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  I bit back my reply because no matter what I said, this conversation was going in one direction.

  “You need a wife, Zachariah.”

  I selected a few chicken wings from the box, put them on my plate, and followed up with celery sticks. “Been there, done that. It didn’t work.”

  “That’s not true. Engagement is not the same thing as being married.” She picked up a wing without setting it on a plate and nibbled.

  I didn’t like the fact she wasn’t eating a lot. She seemed to enjoy protein shakes more than actual food.

  “Close enough,” I muttered before stuffing a hot wing in my mouth.

  Melissa. For the second time today, her name popped up in my head. Damn. The thought of her messed with my appetite. Not wanting my mother to give up picking at her food, I forced myself to chew.

  “All things happen for a reason, baby, whether we agree with them or not. Melissa was not meant for you.”

  “Maybe, but it wasn’t because you had cancer. Don’t tell me you got sick so we would not get married. That’s messed up.” Unable to chew further, I tossed my wing on my plate. My mom didn’t even blink.

  “Zachariah, you know that’s not what I meant. I got cancer because I got cancer. Melissa left because she wasn’t the woman you needed. She didn’t support you in your time of need, and I was the sick one. What do you think would have happened if you had gotten sick? The poor girl would probably have run home to her parents the moment she learned you were ill. Marriage vows include staying together through sickness and health, not just for richer or poorer.” She smirked. “I don’t think Melissa would have handled the ‘poorer part’ too well either.”

  I wiped my hands on my napkin and allowed myself to smile. “Yeah, she was money hungry, which was not new. I would have provided for her, given her everything she wanted and then some.”

  “True, and she would have drained you dry, financially and mentally,” she added, disposing of the wing she had finished. I held my breath and waited for her to pick up another one; she did.

  “I know how to pick them, huh?”

  My mother patted me on the knee. “One day, when you least expect it, the woman of your dreams is going to walk into your life and knock you sideways. Mark my words.”

  I thought about the woman who’d come into my shop. Ms. Phillips was probably on the same high-maintenance level as Melissa. All beauty and attitude wrapped into one. I could imagine what her man put up with in order to be with her.

  Then I pictured her body without the hip hugging skirt and low cut blouse covering what I imagined would be perfect breasts. One night with her would make a man overlook her issues.

  I chuckled. “Glad at least one of us feels that way.”

  I sure as hell didn’t.

  Chapter 3

  Despite setting my alarm clock for four-forty-five, I overslept. At least I had taken a shower before going to bed. I selected my clothes the night before, so all that was left to do was make-up.

  A horn honked behind me at the light. I finished applying eyeliner, flipped the visor up, and pushed on the gas. I fluffed my hair with one hand, glad my ear-length bob had a loose curl making it eas
y to style. It was easier to manage than the shoulder length hair I slaved over a few months ago.

  The decision to cut my hair was about more than easy maintenance. It was about forgetting my past life and settling into reality.

  No more expectations; no more games.

  I drove into the Inn’s parking lot and parked, overwhelmed by the hard work of my family. The Phillips’ Family Inn I managed was larger than the original location and nestled in the rolling hills, minutes outside of Los Angeles. The hotel used to be an old Hollywood mansion until the area was re-zoned and the home remodeled to house eight regular rooms and two honeymoon suites. My parents lucked out on the property during a real estate auction.

  Like others in the area, the property had beautiful landscaping. I’d recently contracted the yard maintenance to my best friend, Ebony’s fiancé, Brian Young, who owned a lawn care service. Even though he wasn’t always available to accompany his workers when they came, he’d trained them well. Over the last few months, Brian’s music career had taken off. He spent a lot of time in the studio of B&D Records.

  After all, I owed them. Helping Ebony plan her dream wedding and hosting it at the Inn still didn’t feel like it was enough. I would do anything to help make their marriage possible.

  Two months had passed since discovering my fiancé at the time was a bastard. After what he’d done to her…I still couldn’t fathom how she managed to pretend it never happened.

  I couldn’t.

  I sat in my car for a moment to gather myself, and ran a hand over my eyes, trying not to smudge my mascara. Now was not the time to think about the past. There were too many things to focus on, such as getting the hotel financial records to my mother. As predicted, she was not happy to hear she would not receive them last night. I covered myself by saying the computer crashed right before I sent them. The little white lie bought me time to get them completed today.

  I seriously needed to step up my game. In order for my parents to be willing to fund my business as a fashion consultant, I needed to maintain the family business first. Now was not the time to slip up.

  I exited my car and noted the time, six-thirty. I spied a car out of place in the parking lot and assumed it was the technician. I shut my door, walked around to the trunk of my cherry red Honda Accord, and retrieved my laptop bag. When I turned around, he had climbed out of his car, strapped a bag across his chest, and was unloading a large box from the trunk. I hurried up the steps of the Inn to open the door.

  His smile was wide as he approached. “Good morning.”

  Morning people get on my nerves.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I said, trying to keep the irritation, stimulated by his cheery grin, hidden.

  He adjusted the weight of the box in his arms. “Not a problem. Where are we going first?”

  “My office.”

  He followed me through the grand opening of the hotel living room, past the check-in counter, down the narrow hallway, and past the kitchen to a smaller room that served as my office.

  The smell of burnt plastic assaulted us when I opened the door. After setting my bags on the floor, I immediately dug the Febreze air freshener from my desk drawer, sprayed, and opened a window.

  “When you said your computer burned, I took that as a figurative statement.” His eyebrows furrowed as he looked for somewhere to settle the box. When done, he unhooked the bag strapped across his chest and went under my desk to access the damage. “It’s a good thing you used a surge protector or it could have been a lot worse. What happened?” He sat up from underneath the desk and adjusted the dark square frames on his wide nose.

  Large, dark hazel eyes captured me. For a moment, I imagined him watching me as he explored my body.

  “Ms. Phillips, did you hear me?”

  I rubbed a hand over my face and blinked. “Sorry, still waking up.”

  Yeah right. I was awake all right, along with other parts of my body. This man had some of the sexiest bedroom eyes.

  His chuckle was deep. “Not a morning person, I remember.”

  I walked over to the desk. “I saved a document and opened the accounting software when the screen went blank. I thought there was a power outage. I flipped the power switch on and then, poof,” I demonstrated with my hands. “Sparks flew.”

  He smiled and a set of deep dimples appeared on both sides of his goatee. My attention went to his thick lips, imagining what they would feel like against mine.

  The warm feeling taking over my body made it impossible to think. I forced my attention to the items on my desk. I hadn’t been this attracted to a man in months. Why now? Why him?

  Even though he appeared to have a nice build, despite his geeky appearance, Zachariah Givens was not my type. When I was sure my thoughts were clear, I allowed myself to watch him. He’d disappeared under the desk again and proceeded to disconnect cords, leaving his firm derriere in plain view. I swallowed a groan. His butt looked good in those jeans.

  I blinked. Jeans? He wasn’t wearing the geek uniform of black pants. When he emerged from beneath the desk, I realized he wore a polo shirt.

  “How come you’re not in uniform?” I blurted.

  “What?” He dragged the burned-out equipment from underneath my desk and glanced at his attire. “Oh, it’s my day off.”

  My eyes widened. “Wait, you’re here off the clock?”

  “I didn’t have anyone to send in at this time of the morning.” He dumped the cords in the trash and turned to retrieve the old computer tower. “Besides, I miss this part of the job. Being store manager keeps me inside all day. Don’t get me wrong, it has its benefits, but I’m good with my hands.” He glanced over at me. “And since you said our customer service over the phone sucks, I had to make it up to you.”

  Good with his hands…God. I felt my face redden.

  I forced myself to laugh. “Thank you, Mr. Givens.”

  The old equipment removed, he walked over to open the new box. “Call me Zachariah, or Zack.” He smiled and those dimples popped again.

  “Okay. You can call me Yasmine.” I stared at him a little too long.

  He nodded in the direction of the old computer tower. “I’ll be honest…Yasmine, I don’t know if I’ll be able to salvage anything for you. I’ll get the new system up, start loading your programs, and then check it. I want to have you up and running as soon as possible.”

  I sighed and glanced at the burnt shell. “I could use a miracle right now, and a cup of coffee. Would you like one?”

  “No, I’m not big on caffeine. I’m a morning person by nature.” He chuckled when I rolled my eyes.

  “To each his own,” I replied.

  ***

  Several hours later, all of the computers – mine, Brandon’s, and the one at the check-in counter – were up and running and the software was nearly loaded. Mine took the most time since it was the hub for everything in the hotel. He’d even been nice enough to load the hotel business software, free of charge.

  I sat on the other side of the office, working furiously on my laptop to compile the data for the business reports and receipts I kept in the filing cabinet- information that had been lost when the computer died. I promised myself to keep a backup on my laptop, USB drive, and any other digital format outside of the main office set up from now on. I did not intend to repeat this scenario.

  “Yasmine, a few more minutes and I’ll be done,” Zack said. “Sorry I couldn’t save the hard drive.”

  I glanced up from my screen. “No need to apologize. I should have had everything backed up. You live and learn.” I saved my work and checked the time on my laptop. “I can’t believe it’s that late already.” It was nearly eleven; I stood up and stretched. “Would you like something to eat? I don’t know about you, but I missed breakfast. It’ll be my treat. The kitchen is open and Mrs. Davenport will be making lunch.” I studied him for a moment. “I bet you’d like one of her Double Decker Monterey burgers. They are to die for.”

  Zack appeared
surprised by my offer. “I’d like that.”

  I stopped in the doorway. “I’ll come get you when it’s done.”

  Twenty minutes later, we sat in a booth in the rear of the dining room, away from the guests.

  “This has got to be the best burger I’ve ever eaten. I would drive all the way back for another one.” Zack bit off a large bite. He’d finished half the thing in record time.

  I smiled. “I’ll be sure to give your compliments to the chef.”

  “I’ll be sure to kiss her.” He drank from his cup and pointed at my salad. “Why aren’t you eating one of these?”

  I stabbed at my chicken salad with my fork and glanced at the remains of his burger. “Good question.” I laughed. “I ate one yesterday for lunch. Too many of them will mess with my figure.”

  Zack’s eyebrow arched, but he remained silent.

  My gaze dropped to my plate. In my past life, flirting was my way of determining if a man would be competent enough to handle my sexual needs. It was second nature.

  But this was now.

  Besides, trying to seduce Zack would be a waste of time; he didn’t seem interested anyway. Unlike most men I ran across, he didn’t flirt with me at all. Any other man would have taken my comment and told me how fine I was, or some other line, to find a way into my bed.

  Not Zack. He was the epitome of the perfect gentleman, never uttering a suggestive comment or taking the obvious stroll over my body with his eyes. I caught him watching me once or twice, but it wasn’t lust in his gorgeous hazel orbs, it was something I had never seen before.

  To be honest, it made me nervous not knowing what he was thinking. Yet at the same time, it was refreshing to be in the company of a man who was able to have an intelligent conversation without his panting tongue being in the way.

  My cell phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID and excused myself. “Yes, Mrs. Langford, how are you?” I waited a beat for her reply and dug into my purse for pen and paper to write notes. “Perfect, I’ll see you then.”

  A smile of satisfaction spread across my face when I hung up.

  “Must be good news,” Zack said before popping the last of the burger in his mouth.