by W. Ferraro
At the sound of his endearment, CeCe felt a flood of emotions. Fury and anger barely overrode others she thought she buried deep in side. But she would drop dead before letting him know he had that effect on her. “Don’t make this to be more than it is. Yes, you and I have history, but that is exactly what it is: history. As in, over, never happening again. Don’t delude yourself, and think I played the broken-hearted girl you left behind. I was well aware I was one of many in a long line of Jarod Gates conquests.”
“Whatever you say, Kitten.”
Unable to hold her annoyance any longer, “Don’t call me that!” When her outburst only earned a smirk on his still handsome face, she let her tongue continue to show her irritation, “you are such a twit-twat!”
Incapable of not reacting to that response, Jarod smiled and said, “I think I’d have to have one to be one.”
This only made CeCe want to throw both stilettos at him. Her temper took over, “What do I know, thirteen years is a long time; anything could have happened to your twig and berries.”
Something in her words quickly wiped the smile from Jarod’s face, his position changing from relaxed to defensive. “You don’t know anything about me, or how much I’ve changed.”
Changed? “So you say. I used to know you, or at least I thought I did. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to know anything about you. So again, your services, whatever they are, are not wanted.” CeCe walked past him to the door, holding it for him to exit. When he remained unmoved, she cleared her throat. When that didn’t get any results, she added, “That’s your cue, Slick.”
Jarod looked into her eyes, and with a slight quirk of his mouth, he walked to the door, but stopped short and turned to face her. His body was only inches away, and she could smell his cologne. She refused to admit it smelled intoxicating. The jump in her heart rate was at the audacity of Dylan, plain and simple, nothing to do with the man in front of her.
“See you around, Kitten,” and Jarod Gates walked out of her store, CeCe happily locking the door behind him.
FUCK! Jarod thought to himself after he climbed in and slammed the door to his beat up pickup truck. Relieved to be sitting, his leg and hip throbbed from the tough guy show he’d put on. He allowed the pain to focus him for a moment, but knew he would need to overcome it before it consumed him. As the pain cleared his mind, he focused on the other twinge. He knew seeing CeCe up close would be interesting, but that he didn’t expect. From the moment he signed on for this job, he knew he would be walking into an emotional inferno. Not wanting to assess those emotions, Jarod struck the steering wheel, bringing him back to the task at hand. Closing his eyes and taking long cleansing breaths, he put his racing thoughts and doubts into perspective. Efficiently, and expertly, scanning the parking lot, he confirmed nothing had changed since he parked over two hours ago, only the departure of many cars. Jarod had run the plates on all the cars in the lot when he first arrived, and all checked out. From this vantage point, he had a clear view of the store, her car and the entrances and exits of the parking lot.
He shifted in his seat, welcoming the physical discomfort. As he watched CeCe’s he thought how beautiful she looked up close. She was always a looker, but now, she was beyond gorgeous. Her already amazing, petite body had only improved with time. The changes were subtle, but definitely effective, shifting her from the beautiful college student she used to be, to the sexy, vixen of a woman she was now. She knew it, too. The sleeveless, low-cut tuxedo-style blouse clung to her body in a way that left little to the imagination. The gentle lavender hue set off her silky olive skin, making it glow, even as her deep caramel tresses fell in luscious waves about her shoulders. It was obvious to Jarod just how deliberate her clothing choices were, as every inch of fabric or material showcased her assets perfectly. Her impossibly sexier ass combined with the distinct curve of her hips to be unforgettable in the black satin capris that even managed to improve on her already perfect legs. No doubt intentionally emphasized by the sky-high open-toed sandals. Everything on her fed the images and memories of the feel of his hands on her body. He shuddered at the phantom-like sensation rippling over his hands. But for all the delicate wonders of her body, nothing compared to the masterpiece of her face—a face that had haunted and comforted him in his dreams for so many years. The depths of her striking hazel eyes, which he always knew saw to much, were tinged with a heartbreaking coldness, even as they gleamed with her fury. He would be lying to himself if he thought she would greet him with a warm embrace, as if they were old friends; no, truth be told, he knew it would be anything but warm and fuzzy, but still, he didn’t expect the unadulterated loathing from her.
Movement pulled him from his memories of her body and his analysis of their five-minute reunion. Jarod watched a motorcycle enter the lot on the west side, keeping to that end of the building; he did a few laps then exited the way he came. Always too far away for Jarod to read his tags, but from what he could tell, it was a newer model racing bike. The motorcycle gone, Jarod brought his attention back to CeCe’s, and its owner who could clearly be seen inside. What was she doing? Pushing the driver’s seat all the way back, he got as comfortable as he could, having a feeling it would be a long night. Refusing to massage the constant throb in his leg, he allowed his mind to wander. The upside to this part of his job was he had a lot of time on his hands to play things over in his mind; the down side was he had a lot of time to play things over in his mind—things he spent a lot of time and energy not thinking about. CeCe Cervetti fit that category. She was a double edge sword; she was his talisman, but also his trigger. She was certainly going to make this job harder than anything before. The question was, would he be willing to face the demons he has avoided for years, and if he did, would he live through the fallout?
CeCe’s fingers ached from holding the pencil. Her hands, and most likely her cheeks, were smeared with lead and charcoal. Her back hurt, and her neck had such a kink in it from being hunched over her desk. Her legs had fallen asleep hours ago, crossed underneath her in the green velvet chair, but seven new designs lay spread across her desk. Designs she didn’t even know she had floating in her head, but they just appeared when she first held the pencil, flowing out through her fingers onto the pages. She reveled in the quiet, allowing her artistic talent to flow without interruption.
Sketching played such a huge part of CeCe’s life. For as long as she could remember, she could handle any situation as long as a pencil and paper were within reach. This was when she was the happiest, when she was able to come out of her shell. She loved to sketch people, and the closer a person was to her, the more sketches she did of them. She tried her hand at patterns and clothes, and she was hooked.
Leaning back and rubbing her neck, she admired the darker than usual designs. Her style of fashion design has changed so much over the last few months. What started as cleaner, enhanced classic designs have transformed into truly original and elegant pieces—pieces she honestly couldn’t wait to bring to fruition from the sheets of paper laid out before her. To actually touch and hold the clothes she dreamed would be worn by the masses someday. As much as she loved drawing out the lines and angles, there was something entrancing about selecting, cutting, and stitching the fabric to make the idea a reality.
CeCe knew it was well into the early morning without even looking at her phone for the time. It had been years since she pulled an all-nighter designing, but it seemed her mind was telling her she needed this therapy in the midst of her current adventure. Not to mention, she needed the diversion after seeing Jarod after all these years. Unbidden, her mind was flooded with glimpses and memories, both new and old. With amazing restraint, CeCe shut her mind to Jarod Gates like a vault. Rising to her feet, she stretched and walked through her office door, out to the main floor and was amazed the dark night was beginning to fade to morning light. She continued to stretch to get blood flowing back to her neglected muscles and work out some of the stiffness from being in the chair for s
o long. Sliding her feet into the flip-flops she kept in her office, she grabbed up her things, sent a quick text to Kelleigh letting her know she would be late coming in this morning, and let herself out the front door, locking it behind her before making her way to her car.
The parking lot was empty except for a truck far off in the secondary parking. When she noticed someone was in the truck, she quickened her pace, keeping in tempo with her beating heart. When she reached her car, she quickly climbed in with all intentions to peel out and head home, but then annoyance got the better of her. Rather than head away from the lone truck, she turned the mustang toward it, deciding that if this was Mr. White Rose, she wanted to know and put an end to this shit.
Quickly her V8 ate up the pavement and reached the truck; but instead of identifying her misguided admirer, she was met with a pair of all too familiar blue eyes. When she continued to just stare at him, he gave a plastic smile, unabashed and mimed for her to roll down the window. Annoyed, she complied as she played out in her head what she wanted to say to him for stalking her.
But he beat her to the punch.
“God, woman, aren’t you too old to be out all night? Alone, to boot?”
Old? See, complete asshole! Like she needed any more proof.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Gates?”
“Told you earlier, I’m working.”
“And I told you, you were fired.”
“Technically, you never said I was fired. You told Dylan he could unhire me—which isn’t even a word, by the way—you told me I was not needed, but you never said the words ‘you’re fired’.”
Oh My God! Was there anyone more infuriating than this man!?!
“Well, let me not get caught on such a technicality, again. YOU. ARE. FIRED! As in, axed! Will not get paid! You do not work here! You have nothing to investigate! Oh, and just for good measure, you are an ASSHOLE!” CeCe peeled out, causing quite the sound and leaving heavy tread markings in her wake.
Jarod watched as the emerald-green mustang fishtailed around the corner before coming to a stop at the exit, where she once again put all the Mustang’s horsepower to the test. He couldn’t help his smile as he pulled out, much slower, and onto the main road.
By the time he reached CeCe’s apartment complex, he estimated she had been home for ten minutes. He parked in plain sight on the street, and as he sat there observing the other cars coming and going, he began to wonder if he wanted her to see him so easily. There was something about seeing her so passionate, even if it was in anger. Moments later, she reappeared walking down the steps after exiting the security door from the apartment building. She had just reached her car when she looked over the roof and locked eyes with Jarod. You didn’t need binoculars, or even 20/20 vision, to clearly see the obscene gesture she had for him. Foregoing the car, she dropped a bag on her trunk and walked with purpose toward him. He definitely enjoyed the sight she made coming toward him, in a black sports bra and lime green, off the shoulder shirt that exposed just the right amount of midriff above black yoga pants—talk about bouncing in all the right places. Her face was anything but happy.
“You are like a bad toothache, Gates,” she said in a cyanide-laced whisper when she reached the beat up pick-up.
“Oh yeah, how’s that?” he asked, happy his mirrored aviation glasses were on so she wouldn’t be any more pissed at him when he enjoyed the view of her exposed cleavage, especially when she crossed her arms like she was doing now.
“No matter what I do, I can’t shake you.” Tapping her toe in annoyance, she looked at the car pulling in and grabbed her composure. When she turned back to face him he could see the gears shifting. He was not wrong when she spoke, “Look, I know you are kind of stuck in the middle, but really, your services are not needed. I will talk to Dylan and make sure you get paid for your time.”
“See, I knew you cared.”
“Care? Oh no, I don’t care anything about you; I just want you gone. And apparently, being a nice human being, and doing as another asks is too advanced for you, so I thought I’d appeal to your wallet instead.”
“Why do you think it would only be my wallet you could appeal to?”
Avoiding the question, CeCe swooped in and ripped the aviator’s off Jarod’s face and put them on her own before asking, “What is it going to take for you to get lost? Or is my annoyance a turn on for you?”
Tell the truth, or not?
“Where you off to dressed like that?”
Cocking her head to one side and pursing her lips, she huffed irritably, “I’d say it’s none of your business, but I have this uncanny feeling you’re just going to follow me anyway.”
“You always were a smart little thing.” The fact he already knew she was off to Workout Place was beside the point.
“I mean it, Gates, get lost.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Figure it out, as I recall you were quite good at disappearing when you wanted.” CeCe took the aviator’s off, threw them in the open window, and walked off without another word.
Jarod enjoyed the view of her departure, and as she backed out and drove toward the gym, he remained parked where he was. Pulling out his phone, he dialed, and when Dylan answered he calmly stated, “We’ve got a problem. I’m coming to you.” He disconnected the phone call and couldn’t help smiling from ear to ear.
Jarod arrived at Dylan’s office thirty minutes later. When he reached the second floor, his leg and hip were crying in defense. He rubbed his thigh as he walked in the door marked S&D Construction. Behind the front desk, a pretty blonde was on the phone, indicating with one finger for Jarod to wait. He stood to the side, leaned against the wall, and rubbed his thigh methodically. He hated being in public and showing weakness, but days like this just couldn’t be helped. The blonde finished her call and asked, “May I help you?” refusing to hide her appreciation of the fine male specimen she thought Jarod was.
“Looking for Dylan. He’s expecting me.” Jarod did not return her over-exaggerated smile.
“One moment please.”
Jarod turned his back to look out the large window as she did whatever she did. Within moments he heard, “You can go on back, second door on the left.”
With a curt nod of his head and scowl fully in place, Jarod followed her instructions, not bothering to knock when he arrived at the close door. He opened the door and let himself in noticing Dylan was not alone.
“Jarod, come on in. I’d like to introduce you to my friend and partner, Seth Finn. Seth, this is Jarod Gates.”
Jarod extended his hand to the other man, noting this guy could be his friend Buffy’s twin. This guy was as tall as a sequoia redwood, and just as wide. Very few men had a height advantage over Jarod, but Seth Finn did. Not that it mattered; Jarod wasn’t here to throw down, just his constant observation quirk.
“So you’re Gates. Nice to meet you, man. I appreciate the help you gave us a while back on that lawsuit. Without your assistance, we probably wouldn’t have dug ourselves out of that very big hole.”
“My pleasure, as I’ve told Dylan, I’m always willing to help uncover the truth.”
“Good to know. I’ll get out of your way.” Seth said, as he made his way to the door, but before exiting he turned and said, “Oh and D, one more thing, remember Hawthorne wants us to move our meeting next Saturday to Boston. Mae wants to go to visit some friends, and she wants Natalie to come along. The kids are staying home with Lynne.”
“Sounds good, I could use some alone time with my wife.”
“Welcome to fatherhood.” Seth said on a chuckle, as he gave a two-finger salute before leaving and closing the door behind him.
Dylan’s attention shifted from the door to the man who took the seat Seth vacated. Jarod lounged in the seat as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“You mentioned a problem?” Dylan asked as he leaned against the front of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest.
Jarod studied the m
an that had once been a friend, but had the potential to quickly become a foe, especially if he ever learned the truth about Jarod and CeCe’s history. “Depends on your definition of a problem. She isn’t exactly warming to the idea of me checking things out and shadowing her.”
“Good thing I don’t give a shit if she wants you around. I want this issue solved, and fast.”
“Understood. I just thought you should know, she’s being difficult about your plan.”
Furrowing his brow Dylan asked, “and is that a problem? I’m paying you for security service and to investigate, I don’t believe there was anything in there about her liking it, or you.”
Jarod stood, ignoring the throb in his leg brought on by such a quick motion. When they were eye to eye, both reflecting similar glares, he extended his hand for a handshake while saying, “Whatever you say; you’re the boss.” Jarod turned to leave, but just as Seth did before him, he turned back before reaching the door, “When do you plan on telling CeCe how long you’ve had me on your payroll where she is concerned?”
“When I figure that out, I’ll let you know.”
CeCe called Derrick earlier and agreed to dinner. Now that it was time to go, she wished she had gone with Plan B, and rented a movie and getting some Ben and Jerry’s. The whole rose-stalker thing, and adding Gates on top of it, was really affecting her. So to shake all the negativity in her head, not to mention the newest delivery of roses, she put a little bit more care into her appearance for tonight. She loved this little black dress; it was the epitome of sexiness. From the tight fit, to the versatility, it just made CeCe feel girlie and desirable. Her boobs looked great in the low scoop neck style, and she loved how her legs looked in it. With the hem falling mid-thigh, she loved how shapely her calves looked thanks to the zebra printed rhinestone strappy sandals. She put her hair up in a twist, and finished the look with chunky zebra print hoops at her ears and a matching chunky cuff on her wrist. Applying the last bit of her makeup, when she heard a knock. Derrick was always fifteen minutes early picking her up, and that time was fast approaching, so she thought nothing of opening the door.
