After His Peonies: A Romantic Comedy

by Alina Jacobs

  I ground my teeth. I was going to need crowns after this was all over.

  "And Kelly is right," Karen said in a fake friendly tone. "If you're going to work here, you have to represent the firm. We need to see that you're serious."

  "I think White Lavender is having a sale. They have nice shoes," Kelly offered.

  "I think that's a great idea," Karen said enthusiastically. "Don't you, Meghan?"

  I nodded. There was no way I could afford new clothes.

  "Good!" she said brightly.

  "Have you seen Hunter again?" Kelly asked Karen. Karen glared at me. I knew she was warning me not to say anything, but I couldn't help it.

  "He was here last night," I said. "Where did you two go?"

  "Oh um," Karen scowled at me. "We just went to a nice dinner."

  "Where?" I asked. I was going to pay for this later.

  "We went to the Olive and Twist," Karen said after a moment.

  "Was it good?" Kelly asked.

  "You should put up some pictures of the two of you together," I told Karen.

  "I don't—Hunter is a very private person."

  "Oh, that’s too bad," I said. "He needs to get over it. People might think you're making the whole thing up." It felt good to hit back finally.

  But Karen wasn't going down without a fight. Throughout the afternoon, she told me I was doing a horrible job, said the work I had given her was subpar, and then accused me of plagiarizing a memo.

  The last straw came that evening. Charles Thurlow stayed late that day, and therefore, so did everyone else.

  Karen came over to my desk with a triumphant smile on her face. "Mr. Thurlow would like to speak with you."

  I stood up, smoothing my skirt. This didn't sound good.

  "Meghan," Mr. Thurlow said when I walked into his office. He looked up at me from the curry dish he was eating. "Please sit."

  I sat on the edge of the uncomfortable chair. Was I about to be fired?

  "Karen has brought to my attention that you're really having some problems keeping up with the workload." He tapped the fork on the side of the container. "I wish you had shown up on time to the dinner. We could have talked about this then."

  "It's like this all the time, Mr. Thurlow," Karen said. "I've been trying to help her, I really have."

  "I know you did. You know, Meghan," he said, taking a bite of the curry. "You could learn a lot from Karen. She's one of the best associates we have. If she plays her cards right, she could be on the partner track."

  Karen preened, and Thurlow winked at her. I suppressed a shudder. Only Hunter should be allowed to wink at people—anyone else looked like a stalker.

  "I'm trying to meet all the requirements," I said carefully. "But there's conflicting information sometimes."

  "I understand," Charles said around the food. "But that's the nature of our profession. Clients lie, the opposing council tries to bury evidence. You have to be one hundred percent committed."

  "That's what I've been trying to tell her," Karen said, nodding.

  "We want you to be able to stay here, Meghan," Charles Thurlow said.

  "That’s what I want too," I said, feeling like I was about to cry. I couldn't be fired!

  "May I be perfectly blunt?" Charles said.

  I nodded apprehensively.

  "Nothing about you says competent, polished corporate lawyer. After all, part of our job is to make clients feel good about shelling out millions of dollars!" He laughed, and Karen brayed. I didn't think it was that funny, but I managed a few ha-has.

  "You need to buy some nicer clothes," Charles said.

  "I don't really make enough…"

  Thurlow waved away my concerns.

  "You have a rich boyfriend. I know how much Hunter made when his company sold." He took another bite of the curry. "You're putting out, and so you should get a little something in return. That's why you're with a rich guy, right? I know that's why I'm sleeping with this hot twenty-something model and not my ex-wife!" Charles laughed again. Karen's laugh grated in my ear. I could see now why Kate despised her father. He was an oaf.

  "Look, Meghan, you have a cute body under that suit. This weekend, give Hunter a blow job then make him take you shopping. Buy a suit, skirt not pants, obviously, and some sexy heels."

  My face was burning. I didn't dare look at Karen.

  "Now get out of my office!" he said with a smile. "You girls go get a drink or something."

  I was numb as I walked back to my desk.

  "I guess you can go home," Karen said. She had a triumphant look on her face. "You're probably just going to make mistakes tonight."

  I packed up my bag and fled.

  Kate wasn't at the apartment. She was off with Walter on some trip. Sometimes I liked having the apartment all to myself, but not tonight. I really needed a good wallow with my friend.

  I pep talked myself as I went into the bathroom to take a shower.

  "This is fine. You weren't fired. Everything's fine. Don't let them get to you. You're a lawyer. You can handle this."

  I turned on the faucet. There was no hot water. This was not fine. I could not handle this. Then the tears came.

  I sat down on the toilet seat and sobbed.

  My phone rang, almost falling off of the cracked pedestal sink. I grabbed it.

  "Hey, gorgeous!" Hunter's voice was soothingly familiar.

  "Hi."

  "What is it? Why are you crying? Are you okay?" He sounded worried.

  "I hate my life!" I sobbed out.

  "I don't hate your life. I'll come over. We'll talk about it, okay?"

  "Okay," I sniffled. "I don't have any hot water."

  "Well, shoot," he said. I could hear a hint of humor creep into his tone. "I was going to finish what I started in the pool, but I think my peonies might shrink in the cold."

  12

  Hunter

  Meg had seemed really upset. Knowing she needed cheering up or at least someone to talk her down off the proverbial ledge, I headed over to her dilapidated apartment building, smiled at a woman who was exiting the building, and thanked her when she held the door, allowing me to slip inside.

  I wanted to cheer Meg up, and while I knew she would go crazy for the large bouquet I had brought with me, I wanted her to want me for more than my peonies. In a stroke of genius, I took off my suit jacket, shirt, and tie, rolled them up and put them in my bag.

  "Meghan!" I yelled, knocking on her door. "Your knight in shining armor is here!"

  "Goodness gracious," I heard someone exclaim. I looked over. An older Italian woman was giving me the evil eye.

  "You don't like peonies?" I asked her, flexing my muscles. The older woman looked at my bare chest, and her face blanched under her powdery makeup.

  "This building is turning into a brothel," she huffed. "I’m complaining to the landlord!"

  The door swung open.

  "Good evening, Mrs. Vega," Meghan called out.

  "You can't have men here at all hours," Mrs. Vega said, shaking her purse at me. "Especially not half-naked ones."

  I shifted the large bouquet.

  "Where is your shirt?" Meghan exclaimed, putting one hand over her eyes and grasping at my bare arm with the other to drag me into the tiny studio apartment.

  "Stop acting like it's something you haven't seen before," I said, setting the bouquet down on the peeling countertop and gently prying her hand from her face. "As you can see," I said gesturing to my chest, "I am very happy to see you." Meg reached out like she was going to touch my bare skin. Please, I wanted to beg.

  But she jerked her hand back.

  "It's okay," I murmured, pulling her toward me. "I want you to touch me." I leaned over her and kissed her, gently at first then more deeply. She moaned, running her hands over my bare skin.

  I ran my hands down her back, cupping her ass then slowly letting my hand drift, seeking the heat between her legs.

  She pulled back with a slight gasp.

  "You did
n't need to come all the way over here," she said, chewing on her bottom lip.

  "Oh, but I did," I said. "You sounded like a wreck over the phone."

  She grimaced. "I'm not usually a crier."

  "I mean, I think I could make you cry out pretty easily," I said.

  She hit me. "Put on a shirt."

  "Really?" I said, wrapping my arms around her.

  "Really. It's freezing. I have no hot water. I'm in no mood—"

  "I think I could get you in the mood..."

  "Is that all you came over here for?"

  "Hardly."

  "I hope you didn't walk all the way over here shirtless."

  "Please. I took the train."

  I pulled my shirt and jacket out of the bag I had brought.

  "I figured you needed a distraction from the worst job in New York, and no, that's not an understatement," I told her.

  "I guess you're a nice distraction." She chewed on her lip.

  "I can be a very enjoyable attraction."

  "I just met you three days ago." She laughed. "I'm not sleeping with you."

  I clasped a hand to my chest. "You misunderstand me!"

  "Oh, stop," Meg said with a snort. "No man shows up shirtless, carrying flowers like those, without one thing on his brain."

  She went to the kitchen faucet and turned it on. "Ugh. Still out."

  "I can't believe you find your hot water situation more interesting than me," I said, putting on my shirt.

  "I just need to cool off," I thought I heard her mutter.

  "What was that?" I asked.

  She licked her bottom lip. Her eyes flicked to my chest, framed by the open white dress shirt.

  "I can take it back off," I offered.

  She shook her head, still looking at me with that slightly hungry gaze.

  "I guess," she said, "I should thank you for the distraction." Hazel eyes smoldered as the air seemed to thicken between us.

  "Please," I said. "That's not all I had in mind. I'm more than a hot body, you know."

  "I know." She bit her lip again. It was driving me crazy.

  "Really? Because you were looking at me like you wanted to see me naked."

  "I was not!" she said indignantly.

  "Were too. Also," I said, holding up a hand to stop the rest of her protests. "How is it that Miss Rule Follower is allowed to lie and I'm not allowed to skip the line to buy a sandwich?"

  "You did more than that," she scoffed. "Also, you stole a car."

  "I rescued your car. I'm still expecting a thank-you," I said, crossing the miniscule distance between us in the tiny apartment.

  She swallowed and looked up at me.

  "What do you want?" Her husky voice went straight to my cock.

  "I want…" I said, bending my head down, my hand snaking lightly around her waist. "You…" I breathed in her ear. I could practically feel her vibrating. "…And me to have dinner and drinks! Come on, there’s this great place nearby. They have high-end pub food and, strangely enough, a collection of outlandish vodka flavors. Have you ever had butter-beer-flavored vodka? It's disgusting!"

  "The butter-beer vodka's only mildly disgusting, not completely revolting," Meg remarked as she sipped the liquor between bites of pasta. Sitting across from me at the small table, Meg seemed relaxed and at ease.

  "Yeah, it's that undernote of fake vanilla that really makes you want to puke, isn't it?" I said cheerfully.

  "Why are you doing this?" she asked me.

  "What? Drinking horrible flavors of vodka? Just adventurous and masochistic, I suppose."

  "No," she said, looking everywhere but at me as she contemplated how to phrase her question. "Me, I mean. The flowers, coming over, saving my car. What do you really want?"

  I set the fork down. "I'm a man, and you have the nicest tits I've ever seen. You stripped in front of me then jumped in a pool."

  "You didn't even see me!" she protested.

  "Actually, I saw your reflection in the window, sorry-not-sorry. That lingerie looked amazing on you, and it felt even better wet. And that’s why I want you, because I want to see how wet you can get when you're not in a pool."

  Meg's eyes were flicking from my mouth to my collarbone to my forehead. It was seriously messing with my equilibrium.

  "Maybe we should go back to your place and see about your hot water," I said, my voice low.

  She looked as if she were about to drag me out to the alley and have her way with me.

  "Would you like separate checks?" said our waiter brightly. I swore. "Sorry," he said but didn't go away.

  "One check. I'm paying."

  "You can't keep—" Meg started to protest.

  "Meghan please," I said, handing the waiter my credit card. "When you're with me, you won't have to lift a finger."

  "Is that because your mouth is going to do all the work?" she asked casually.

  13

  Meghan

  I don't know what possessed me to say that. Probably all the nasty vodka I'd been drinking—it had gone straight to my brain. Hunter's grin had turned downright predatory.

  "I feel like," he said as he signed the receipt with neat pen strokes, "you're asking me to take your mind off things."

  "It's just that you've done such a good job so far," I told him. Having Hunter show up at my apartment shirtless had been...well, it had been really hot. Even if I would hear an earful about it from Mrs. Vega.

  I watched Hunter stand up.

  My eyes, almost of their own accord, flicked to his mouth then swept down his form. I'd seen him naked at the pool and could barely keep the drool in my mouth. His upper body was magnificent. I could see the muscles move under his shirt as he shrugged on his coat. His shoulders and biceps filled out the garment.

  He swept me into a kiss as soon as we stepped outside into the cold. Warm, strong hands pushed underneath my jacket to cup around my waist.

  "You know," Hunter said against my mouth, "all we have to do is go back to your apartment, and you can check me out as much as you want. I'll even take my clothes off for you."

  His touch had made me soft and pliable, but his strong hint that he wanted to have sex in my apartment set off alarm bells in my head, shocking me out of the haze of desire. One of my biggest rules was to not sleep with strange men. Ever. Even if they were hot.

  "I don't do things like that," I said.

  "Like what?" he challenged.

  "Invite strangers back to my apartment." I looked down at the sidewalk. "What if you kill me?"

  "I will never ever hurt you," he said, tilting up my chin to stare at me, grey eyes intense. "I want you. And," he continued with a slightly crooked smile, "don't you think you could bend the rules for me?"

  "I mean," I said, the vodka and his body conspiring against my better judgment. "I am pretty flexible." I smirked at him. Nervous excitement fluttered in my stomach. "Dan Savage says if you're a girl, you should hook up with a guy at his place because he's less likely to kill you there on account of the mess and inconvenience of disposing of a body."

  "I wasn't thinking of hooking up," Hunter scoffed. I could feel an embarrassed flush creep up my face. "I just wanted to eat you out." He grinned wolfishly, and my face burned.

  Nobody had done that to me. My college experiences had been with drunk, baby-faced eighteen-year-olds. Three pumps and they were done. I hadn't really wanted to repeat the experience. In law school, I had been a ball of stress and had had zero desire for a relationship. Now I was still a ball of stress, but Hunter looked as if he were going to carefully unwind me.

  But better judgment prevailed. Follow the rules. Don't sleep with a stranger.

  "I think I should just go home. It's a work night," I said.

  Hunter sighed dramatically. "I wish you would let me change your mind."

  "I don't think so."

  But the last of my resolve fled when I opened the door to my apartment.

  "Geez, it's freezing in here!" Hunter said.

  "Is the
heat out too?" I exclaimed running to the radiator. Cold. I banged on it. Nothing. Hunter wrapped his arms around me.

  "Come back to my apartment," he said, trailing kisses up my neck to my chin.

  I tilted my head back. Hunter's lips came down on mine in a soft caress. His teeth nipped my bottom lip. Then his tongue slipped into my mouth, slowly tangling with mine. His hands moved up to run though my hair. I moaned, and I felt him grin against my mouth.

  "So did I convince you?" he said, his deep voice rumbling against my jaw.

  "I barely even know you," I murmured as he unbuttoned my shirt, kissing along my collarbone.

  "I bought you flowers, and we snuck into a hotel pool together," he said, nuzzling my breasts.

  "They were really nice flowers."

  "I knew you liked my peonies."

  When Hunter led me into his apartment after an Uber ride during which it was all I could do not to touch his peonies, I could see how he was able to afford several elaborate bouquets of flowers a day.

  "This is an amazing condo," I breathed. It had high ceilings, exposed brick that had been painted white, and dark rustic wood floors. The kitchen was massive. I could have fit my entire studio apartment in it.

  "I'll give you the tour in the morning," he growled, picking me up. My skirt hiked up, and I could feel the hardness of him through my stockings.

  Hunter whispered, "I know you're soaking wet under those stockings. I want to taste you."

  I fumbled for the buttons on my blouse, thankful that I hadn't done laundry yet and was still wearing my nice lingerie.

  His fingers dug into my thighs as he carried me into his bedroom. If I hadn’t been about to cry out from his mouth on my nipples, I would have cried in envy at the size of the master suite.

  He laid me down gently on the neatly made bed. He straddled me, and I could feel the hardness through his pants. He peeled off his shirt and bent down, kissing my neck and collarbone and back to my tits. My nipples were hard as he sucked on them, swirling them with his tongue, and I sucked in a breath.

  As Hunter kissed his way down my abdomen, I stroked his skin. The muscles on his back rippled under my hands. My fingers pulled at his belt.