Now I could focus on what was important. I wanted to get this story completed before Joanna came back from her trip. If I did not have it ready to go and in Blake's hand before then, I was doomed. It was hard telling what Joanna was going to say when she heard that I had taken back my idea. So, how would I relay this to Alexandra without setting off any alarm bells?
"Look, the sooner we get this article out there, the better," I said. "We are running against the clock, and if that bill gets past committee, it will be more difficult to stop it from going through and the building being torn down."
Alexandra looked at me, a thoughtful expression on her face. Then she nodded. "I'll see what I can find out by the end of the day," she said. "How about this...I'll text you what I find out by five o'clock today, even if I haven't found anything out by then."
Relief rushed over me. "Perfect," I said. We exchanged phone numbers before Alexandra stood up to go.
"All right then," she said. "Until later."
"Until later," I parroted with a smile.
I could not wait until later came. Some of those emotions began to peak through a hole in the locked cabinet in the back of my mind. It would mean seeing this woman again, which was something I very much looked forward to.
***
As promised, Alexandra sent a text at five o'clock.
Nothing yet, but I'm on it. Have a meeting with Johnathan Chavez in ten. Will send info if and when I have it.
I smiled. I looked forward to Alexandra's next text. It was impossible to keep the emotions locked away, they were so strong. But despite how often I told myself that I was with Brook, the harder those feelings tried to escape. I found myself fantasizing about this woman and then in the next moment admonishing myself for doing so. I needed to stop this, and it needed to happen as soon as possible. Brook deserved at least that.
Sitting in Joanna's office, the door closed off to anyone who would want to know what I was doing there, I pulled up as many articles and documents that I could about the Hanover Project. It amazed me how very little was available in the mainstream news, even after a couple of weeks since I read the original commentary, but I should not have been surprised. There was a tight reign on this, and the media had bigger fish to fry with a story about a district court judge being blackmailed and a county commissioner being caught with a prostitute. The only place besides the original commentary I had found that day on the bus was a small description on the Colorado Government website. According to what little that was posted about the bill, the plan was to demolish the apartment building and put up a park and a business complex.
The questions I had included who was behind the scheme? Who would benefit the most by doing this heinous act? What were the plans for the families that would need to find new homes?
And would I be able to behave myself when I had to meet with Alexandra again?
Chapter Fifteen
I had spent three hours on the Colorado government website, but could not find any updates on the Hanover Project. Alexandra still had not gotten back to me and I kept glancing at the calendar to see how much time I had left before Joanna returned.
I dropped my head in my hands and stared down at the wood grains of Joanna’s desk. Something had to happen soon because I might have to look for another job one way or the other. It was a hard pill to swallow; really liked my job.
“Paulette?”
I looked up. I had not even heard the door open.
“Hey, Jennifer. What’s up?” I hoped she would not wonder why I spent so much time in Joanna’s office, but she did not seem worried about it.
“Would you look over this paragraph for me? I don’t know what’s up with it, but it just doesn’t seem right.”
I took the page she held out for me and scanned it. “Oh, that should be ‘from’ not ‘of’ right here,” I pointed to the place in the writing, “and the second sentence? You might want to reword it. Remember, the thesaurus is our friend, but don’t overuse it.”
Jennifer laughed. “Yeah, I see what you mean. Thanks for that.”
“Sure, anytime.”
The door closed just as the phone rang. “Hello, Paulette Stevens speaking.”
“Paulette, oh good, I’m glad I caught you, this is Alexandra.”
I sat up straight in my chair, grabbed my notebook, and got ready to take notes, my hand shaking. I took a deep breath. “So, what did you find out?”
“Quite a bit,” she replied. “Hey, would you like to meet up for dinner tonight? I make a mean eggplant parm.”
My heart did a flip. Spending time with Alexandra would be amazing, but I had to be careful. I loved Brook, despite how many times I wanted to throw something at her. Yet, I could see myself falling for this woman if I were not careful.
“Well…”
“Just a working dinner,” Alexandra said as if reading my mind. “I’m not trying to hit on you or anything.” She laughed and it was such a wonderful sound, I wondered if I could be with her in an intimate setting and keep things business-y.
“Well, in that case, fine,” I said with resolve. I knew I could trust myself. “What time?”
“How about seven?” She gave me her address. I knew exactly where it was. It was close to Joanna’s apartment in LoDo.
I agreed to be at hers by seven, wondering if I should bring a bottle of wine. And if so, what kind went with eggplant Parmesan?
***
The cab stopped in front of a luxurious building complete with doorman and security desk, just like Joanna’s. After giving my name and showing my ID, I made my way to the elevator and rode it to the sixth floor.
The hallway was carpeted, unlike the complex where I lived with Brook, which was concrete. At least Daisy’s apartment building supplied tile for the main halls. This place reminded me of a posh hotel with its small side tables showing off plants outside people’s doors. If tables like these were left outside of our apartment, they would have been stolen within the first hour.
I rang the doorbell, its bells chiming beautifully behind the heavy wooden door. Moments later, the door opened and Alexandra stood there smiling.
My breath caught in my throat as I took at the woman who stood before me. She was wearing a deep blue shirt with tiny white flowers, a small hole showing her cleavage at the top, and tight-fitting white jeans showed off a firm round bottom. Her hair was pulled up into a loose bun with two strands flowing down either side of her face. I could have fallen into the depths of her brown eyes.
“Paulette, I’m so glad you made it.” She moved out of the way to allow me to enter.
Shaking my head, I admonished myself for thinking of her this way. I would have to watch myself. If I could not keep my mind on the work, I would insist we only meet in public. Was I not an adult? Or was I some teenager unable to control myself?
Once I reined in my hormones, or whatever was making me giddy, I took a whiff of an amazing smell.
“Oh, man, something smells really good,” I said.
“It’s my mom’s recipe, been passed down for at least three generations. My great-grandmother was from Italy.”
So, that’s where she got her good looks; it was that Italian blood.
Stop that!
Her foyer was amazing with a high ceiling and stone tiles on the floor. The walls were gray, the trim a complimentary white. A beach scene adorned the wall above a small bench and on the opposite wall stood an elegant cherrywood table and an antique mirror hanging on the wall above it. Her place was even nicer than Joanna’s, and I had thought Joanna’s oozed wealth. She took my coat and hung it in a coat closet just inside the door.
“Wow, your place looks great,” I said in awe.
“Thanks,” she said as she led me to the living room. The entire far wall was made of windows that looked out onto a small park. The white furniture sat on a large gray rug, a glass-top coffee table set between two two-seater couches. On the far side of the open-concept room was a kitchen with dark gray granite counters
and an island with a large breakfast bar looking over the large double sink.
“Let me show you around,” she said, heading down a short hallway. Two side doors led to a bathroom and a small office. At the end of the hall, through double doors, was a huge master bedroom with an on-suite that included a massive Jacuzzi tub and separate shower. The bed was definitely king-sized and I touched it to see how soft it was. I had never seen anything so extravagant, at least not in real life. TV and movies always showed such grand furnishings, but it was certainly different being able to experience it personally.
Reluctantly I followed her back to the great room.
“Would you like something to drink?” She opened the refrigerator. “I have beer, wine, orange juice…” Then as she walked over to a small cart filled with all sorts of bottles and added, “or I can mix you up something. I have just about all the normal stuff; screwdriver, rum and Coke, just nothing too fancy.”
“Well, that probably means no strawberry margarita, huh?” I said and then shook my head and waved my hand when her eyes went wide. “Just kidding!”
Alexandra’s laugh made my heart flutter and I pushed the feeling back again behind that door.
Maintain control, I thought. Just make it through tonight. Keep your mind on Brook.
“I’ll take a beer, I guess.” I was not sure about the fancier drinks. Well, I was very familiar with rum and Coke, much more familiar than I wanted to be anymore. Too many nights hugging the toilet led me to break that relationship off for the foreseeable future.
She handed me a beer and we headed to the living room, each taking a seat on one of the couches. I crossed my legs and my foot bobbed up and down, so I put my hand on it to hold it still.
Once again it was Alexandra who broke the silence. I was so glad she was more comfortable with conversation than I was. All I managed to do was look around nervously.
I snickered inside. Some journalist I’ll make, I thought.
“So, I got the chance to speak to Johnathan Chavez, like I said, and he said that the bill has a good chance of moving to a vote.” She shook her head. “I was able to set up a meeting with Gordon Kimbrook for tomorrow at one for you, will that work?”
I sat up, gaping. “Yes! That’s amazing, thank you so much. I can’t believe you were able to set me up with someone on the committee.”
She shrugged. “Eh, let’s just say his administrative assistant owes me one.” Her smile brought back that flutter. “Oh, I better check on dinner.”
I followed her to the kitchen and sat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. Her movements were fluid, like a dancer’s. I could tell she really knew her way around a kitchen.
“So, do you cook a lot?”
“Not as much as I used to,” she replied as she pulled out a steaming pan from the oven. “My ex and I used to do a lot of cooking together, but…” she shrugged.
“I get it. People move on sometimes.”
“Yeah. We just did not realize how different we really were until things started getting weird between us. We found out we were of completely different minds after that honeymoon period.”
“Oh, you’re divorced?”
She laughed. “No, but all couples go through it, married or just living together. You know, that time when everything is bliss and then you realize that it really isn’t.”
I knew exactly what she was talking about. Brook and I had been deeply in love at one time. Now it was more like an old married couple. Brook would have keeled over if she heard me say that.
Dinner was nice. The food was fantastic and we talked about our jobs and families. Both of us brushed over relationships completely, which was fine with me. I was not ready to tell an almost complete stranger about my problems with Brook. Plus, everyone had problems. I believe people should keep those problems at home, not spread them around to others who had nothing to do with it.
We moved back to the living room and Alexandra shared some of the information she found about the company behind the demolition. I found myself losing track of what she was saying as I stared at her.
“Sorry, what did you just say?” I asked, feeling my face burn. “I zoned there for a second.”
She glanced at her watch. “Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry. It’s already eleven. I didn’t realize it was so late. You must be really tired.”
Something about mentioning the time made me yawn. “Wow, yeah, I probably should be getting home. My partner’s probably wondering when I’m coming home.”
Alexandra admonished me when I offered to help clean up, and she handed me my coat before opening the door for me.
“Thanks again for dinner,” I said. “I really enjoyed it.”
“Well, I did too,” she said. Then without warning, she leaned in and kissed me.
I found myself returning the kiss before Brook’s face popped into my head and I pushed her away, gasping.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she moved back into her doorway. “I don’t know what came over me.”
I was breathless and the words were jumbled around in my head. “No, I’m sorry.” I threw on my coat. “I…I have to go. I’ll let you know how the meeting goes.”
Without waiting for a response, I headed to the elevator. Once inside it, I leaned against a wall trying to gather my thoughts. It was as if I were walking through fog when I asked the doorman to flag a taxi.
For some reason, I thought I should feel dirty somehow. But all I felt was warm inside. I shook my head trying to hold back the tears.
When I got home, I kissed Brook and pulled her into the bedroom. She came quite willingly, not fighting me as I pushed her onto the bed. My mouth pressed against hers, hard and demanding, and she responded the same. We were panting when the kiss ended, but I did not stop there. I grabbed her arms and pulled them up above her head, holding her down with my body.
“Damn, Paul,” she said breathlessly. “What’s gotten into you tonight?”
Inside I wanted to cry, but somehow I needed to make up for what had happened with Alexandra. So, I said nothing. Her eyes grew wide as I ground myself against her, and she spread her legs to accommodate me better. As I moved over her, every part of our body touching and rubbing, our breathing getting heavier, sweat building on our skin, I sunk all my guilt and frustration into passion and lust. Our bodies rocked, the headboard banging against the wall as I pressed against her until she cried out in orgasm.
We lay next to each other, trying to catch our breath, spent. At least, for that moment, I felt less guilty about Alexandra.
If only just a little.
Chapter Sixteen
The next day I felt better about what had happened at Alexandra’s when she sent me a text apologizing again, saying she realized it was a mistake and that it would not happen again.
I replied that everything was fine and that I would stop by her office once I was done with the interview with Gordon Kimbrook to let her know how it went.
That meeting, however, did not go well. Kimbrook was not happy that no one had told him I was with the press, and as soon as I introduced myself, he immediately clammed up and refused to tell me anything. He was not outright rude, but any answers he gave to any of my questions I had already found on the website.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Stevens, but I have no comment,” was his most-used answer, especially when I asked him about what would happen to the families who would have to find somewhere else to live in a time when housing was already sparse and rents were going through the roof.
I left the meeting angry and frustrated, although I thanked the man all the same. No need to burn bridges, that was one thing I learned from one of my professors. “If they don’t give you information the first time and you’re rude, then they’ll probably never let you back in the door. But if you are polite, there’s a chance they’ll be willing to give you a crumb the next time.”
Then, when I went to meet Alexandra, she was in a meeting. I wasn’t sure if she was avoiding me or if she just couldn’
t help not being available, but of course, I thought the worst. I liked her and thought we could be friends despite the physical attraction, so I did not want to lose the opportunity to get to know her better. Plus we were working together, there was no way to avoid her completely.
The only good thing that happened that day was Joanna called and left a message that she probably would have to miss the company party next week.
“I can’t believe my mother’s surgery was postponed again,” she griped in the voicemail. “I swear the woman is using it to keep me around. Anyway, I want you to be there representing me. Make the rounds for me and be sure to talk up every potential investor you can.”
I rolled my eyes. At least it gave me a few more days to get what I needed to write my article.
***
My mood was not any better as I headed to class that night. I pulled out my textbook to catch up on the required readings, but after rereading the same paragraph five times and still getting nothing from it, I closed the book and put it back in my bag. What I really wanted to do was get home, pour a glass of wine, and chill out with Brook.
Brook. At least she was a constant. She and Daisy. I had no clue what I would do without them.
I laid my head on the back of the seat and stared up at the roof of the bus. Someone had drawn a penis, with surprising anatomical detail, just above the window where I sat, with a phone number and a message to ‘call Brad for a good time’. I shook my head and sat up when a man in a brown leather jacket asked if he could sit next to me.
I shrugged and moved my bag off the seat and he dropped down, his feet still in the aisle. The rest of the seats were filled with commuters of varying fields and income levels, no one talking to anyone else unless they had gotten on the bus together.
“Busy bus tonight,” the man said.
I gave a grunt that could have been taken for anything and continued to stare out the window.
“So, do you take the bus often?”
I was not in the mood for idle chit-chat. I got a strange vibe off the guy, and plus, I did not really feel like talking to anyone.
Romancing the News: A Lesbian Office Romance Page 8
