"Actually, Yvonne's thinking of quitting her job and opening a consulting business at home. Then she'd work from home and be a mom."
"No way." Yvonne at home? Really?
"Yep." He held the door open for me as we walked into the theatre. "She's pretty excited about it actually."
"I never saw Yvonne as the domestic type."
Dave lifted a brow. "There's a lot of things you don't know about Yvonne. Do you really think I'd have married some horrible woman who wanted to torture little children and abandon her husband and kids for some glorious career that required her to travel six hundred days of the year?"
"Well, I wasn't sure about the torturing of little children, but now that you mention it..."
Dave stopped in the middle of the crowded hallway and gave me his look.
"Sorry." I felt like a jerk now. "Really, I'm just having a bad week and everything. I have no right to take it out on Yvonne."
"No, you don't."
"I said I was sorry!" Dammit. I really couldn't afford to have Dave mad at me. It would put me over the top. That "top" in question being the one that plummeted me straight down the precipice of total misery, isolation, and depression. "I'm sorry!"
Dave stared at me for a long minute, totally oblivious to being bumped by the crowds rushing in to see the show.
Crap. I'd totally pushed it too far.
"Shannon! Shannon! Look who I found!"
I turned around to find Hildy walking toward me, towing Max behind her. Max? Holy mother of pearl. What was he doing here? He was wearing a black suit, that violet-tinted shirt I loved so much, and the sailboat tie I'd given him for Christmas last year. His dark hair was cropped even shorter than usual, and his dark brown eyes bore into me intently. He looked tall, fit, and gorgeous.
My stomach did a flip-flop. I wasn't ready to see him. I wasn't ready to resist him. This was too much too soon.
I heard Dave growl under his breath and felt him move beside me. Well, sort of beside me. His shoulder was actually in front of mine, like he was shielding me from temptation.
And there was Max. In his Italian suit, with his gorgeous hair, completely sexy body, and those perfect teeth.
How dare he show up at this event before I was fully immunized against him? He'd been my original date for the evening, so there was no chance that his appearance was coincidental. He'd come here to find me, in total disregard of my mandate that we were over. That was typical for Max: he always thought he knew what I wanted more than I did, and it drove me nuts.
I felt irritation building with him, and I grabbed hold of it desperately. With any luck, I'd be able to muster up enough annoyance with his presumptive appearance that I would dropkick him across the room instead of throwing myself into his arms and begging him to take me back.
Hildy coasted to a stop, her arm tucked through Max's. "I couldn't believe it when he came up to me and asked where you were. I thought for sure he must have been out of town, which is why you brought Dave." She smiled at Dave. "You'll have to switch tickets with Max so he can sit with Shannon. Have a good show, you guys. Bye!"
And then she left.
Okay, when I said Hildy was the nicest woman ever, perhaps I shouldn't have framed it as a compliment.
See, this was the big debate. Everyone at the firm knew Max, because, as my significant other for the last two years, he'd been at all the firm events, especially since I was the social director and all. And since he fit oh-so-well into this kind of society, everyone loved him. So, the debate became, do I tell everyone I broke up with him and listen to them all tell me what a fool I was and try to convince me to take him back? Or do I keep my personal issues private and hope no one runs into him and escorts him over to me, like what happened tonight?
Interesting debate to which I will have to give serious thought. Obviously, it was one I should have given some attention to prior to tonight, because I really wasn't prepared for how to handle this.
For the moment, I could think no further than extricating myself from this situation before I got back together with him. I swallowed and forced a light tone to my voice. "What are you doing here, Max?" I could barely see him around Dave's broad shoulder, so I sort of pushed Dave to the side. He moved maybe an inch. Dave had never thought Max was good enough for me, and he was thrilled I'd finally seen the light.
"Going to the theatre," Max said. "You look gorgeous in that dress."
I smiled. "Thanks." I could tell he meant it. With my off-the-rack dress, Max still thought I was beautiful and worthy, and I loved that. He made me feel like I was worth loving exactly as I was—Ack! No, Shannon! Be strong! "I mean, shut up." After all, he'd had that wee little incident three weeks ago (hence the break up). Granted, it was only a little hot dancing at a bar, and he was a little tipsy and he hadn't expected me to show up, but it still pissed me off. Enough was enough. I wanted more.
Max nodded at Dave. "Hey, Dave. Thanks for taking care of my woman for me. Don't want the single guys hitting on her."
"Max!" I shoved him in the chest. Hard. It was mildly satisfying to hear an "oomph" pop out of his mouth. Did his chest feel good or what? I missed having a chest to snuggle against… Damn. I lifted my chin. I was not so desperate that I'd settle for the wrong guy rather than be alone for a while. "I'm not your woman. We broke up. It's over."
"Like we've broken up before? You never stopped being my woman then." Max looked a little smug and not at all battered by my push. Too bad. Obviously, I needed to take some kickboxing classes to get a little more power in my follow-through.
"Okay, fine. I'll admit that we've broken up six times before and always gotten back together. But this time is different. It's really over. We've been broken up for two weeks! Has it ever lasted that long before?" The longest we'd ever stayed broken up before was about a day. A hostile phone call from my mother had always put enough guilt on me to take him back. Two weeks was different. It was for real.
Max wasn't going to get anywhere with me no matter how many members of my family or my professional life he hit up for a reference.
Not that he was accepting it, which really wasn't making it easy for me.
Max didn't look remotely concerned. "You need me."
"I need you to leave me alone." I deserve someone who makes my heart sing.
The lights overhead flickered, ordering us to our seats. "Let's go, Shannon." Dave took my arm, and I was suddenly extremely glad he was there with me. Dave was over six feet tall, and he worked out. He was strong enough to keep me from throwing myself into Max's arms and begging him to take me back. I'd done that before, and each time I'd realized almost immediately that nothing had changed. And then it would take me months to get up the strength to try again. My birthday was in less than two months. I didn't have time to go backwards. No way was I hitting the quarter of a century mark with nothing to be proud of.
Max held out his ticket. "Switch seats with me, Dave. Let me get some quality time with her. She won't even take my calls."
"That's because she doesn't want you around."
I love Dave. Love him. Maybe I should have married him instead of letting him go off to a different college and fall in love with his lovely and charming wife who adored him. See? I could be a decent friend and say only nice things about the woman he loved.
I didn't even let myself look at Max as Dave pushed me past him, keeping himself between Max and me.
"Shannon." Max's voice had risen a couple notes, and there was a hint of desperation in his voice. "Don't leave."
Dave tightened his grip on my arm and made me keep walking. We didn't say anything until we'd sat down and I'd taken a moment to look around and make sure Max hadn't somehow managed to get a seat right behind me. No Max.
"Wow." I leaned back in my seat. "That was interesting."
"What was?" Pete Smith, a corporate associate sitting next to me, glanced over. "Where have you been? You almost missed the start."
"Intern crisis. Lost ticket. Had to sa
ve the day."
Dave put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him. "How did Max find out you were going to be here tonight?" he whispered.
"I had originally invited him before we broke up. I never gave him a ticket, but obviously he mugged a theatergoer to get their ticket. I'm so thrilled Hildy was nice enough to escort him over to me."
"You need to tell people at the firm so things like this don't happen."
"No way." Gah. The thought made me squirm, and I knew then what the right choice was. I couldn't deal with everyone at the firm knowing I was being stalked. Especially since everyone who had ever met Max thought he was the one slumming by hanging out with me. I was sure they would believe that I must have been truly deranged to dump him, because I'd never do as well as him again. Besides, look at Van's reaction. No one would believe me anyway that it was for real.
"Shannon, this is serious. He's following you around." Dave kept his voice low.
"He's harmless."
"How do you know?"
"Because I went out with him for two years. He's not going to come after me with a knife."
"Aren't ninety-five percent of murdered women killed by a husband, boyfriend, or an ex?" Dave asked.
"Dave! He's not going to murder me!" Dave didn't look convinced, and I punched him lightly in the arm. "Cut it out. You're going to freak me out."
"I still think you should tell your colleagues."
"Fine. I'll think about it. Now, can we watch the show?"
He shrugged and looked annoyed.
On the plus side, at least we weren't conflicting over my immature comments about his wife anymore. So, maybe I owed Max a thanks. I didn't want to owe Max anything right now.
On the minus side, the attorney next to me was looking rather interested in our conversation. "Broke up with Max, huh?"
I sighed. I was such a bad liar. There was no way to avoid a direct question. "Yes."
"Too bad. Great guy."
"Apparently." I leaned back in my seat and prayed for the lights to go off.
"You guys went out for a long time, huh?"
"Yes." I elbowed Dave for some assistance, but he was chatting with the attorney sitting next to him. The disadvantage of having friends who were actually good at attending these kinds of events? They talked to other people.
"Why'd you guys break up?"
I could hear the unspoken question. He dumped you, didn't he? Figured out he could do better. Poor little social director. That was your only chance for the big time, wasn't it? Such a shame you couldn't get the ring on your finger before he figured you out. I glared at the attorney. "It's personal, and I'd rather not discuss it, okay?" The lights went out before I could get a response.
Damn.
Based on the startled look on Pete's face, I was pretty sure he was about to apologize for prying. I could use an apology right now, if for no other reason than to reassure me that I deserved consideration.
Figured. Just my luck to miss it.
Chapter Six
"Ready?" Thursday night, I was still working when Emma popped into my office, wearing a skirt that didn't leave much to the imagination. The black spandex was cut low and cut high in all the places that would have been way wrong for my body. Of course, she looked fantastic. "It's nine twenty-five on Thursday night," she announced. "Time to hit the bars looking for single men."
Was it that late already? I glanced at the clock on my computer screen. Yep. That late. I wasn't sure why I refused to become a lawyer. I was already keeping lawyer hours. Why not get the degree and at least be making buckets of money to be at work until ten o'clock every night?
"I hope you brought something else to wear," Emma said, flopping down in my chair. "It really cramps my style when you go out wearing a suit."
Of course I'd brought other clothes. I didn't usually, but I hadn't forgotten my goal to get Blaine drooling over my body so he would become my slave at work in hopes of seeing my bare breasts. It was fun to tease Emma though. "Really? Why would I change? When I wear my suit, I attract guys in suits. My kind of guy."
"Puhleez. Any chick can attract guys in suits. Guys in suits are just fancied up regular men. If you have breasts, they'll be attracted." She pulled her crop top tight across her chest. "The trick is to attract guys who actually think of you as a woman and not a colleague, which is why the suit is a no-go."
"Maybe I want to be seen as a professional. Maybe if I wear a suit, some guy will come up to me and offer me some fabulous job and then I can quit this one and go earn a seven-figure income doing something I actually love." Wow. That would kind of rock. Unfortunately, I didn't know what it was I wanted to do. All I knew was that I wasn't doing it now.
Emma lifted a brow. "What job would you love? I didn't realize you'd figured that out yet."
I grinned. She knew me too well. "I have no idea."
Emma laughed. "You'll figure it out someday, Shannon. You will."
I smiled at her confidence as I turned off my computer. Good night, work. "You're the best."
She winked. "I know."
I glanced at the bag hanging on the back of my office door and grinned at the thought of the outfit hidden inside. "And don't worry. I'm not wearing a suit tonight."
"Good." Emma watched me pile up my papers into a neat stack. "Are you going to do the beer girl thing with me? Next Thursday night? Do you have an event?"
"No event." I finished sorting my papers, and my stomach did a little hop. Why in the world did it do that? Because I was thinking about how hot Blaine was and wondering what he'd think of me in my bar-hopping clothes? Granted, they didn't show as much skin as Emma's did, but that was a good thing due to my cellulite and a little bit-o-love-handles. But I was pretty damn curvy, and I was proud of my girls. I hid them at work under my suit and my carefully chosen silk blouses, but sometimes you just gotta bring out the arsenal. "I'm going to go to the bathroom and change."
"Excellent. I'll go next door and check on Blaine."
Blaine. In all of our arguments this week, he hadn't once mentioned Thursday night. I'd bet he wasn't coming. Like I cared. "I doubt he's coming."
"Oh, he's coming."
The beauty of being Emma. Never a worry about being stood up or ditched. Because she didn't care. There were plenty of men. No need to dwell on any one in particular.
Emma stood up. "I'll just swing next door and give him a little peek at what's in store this evening, and he'll be sprinting for the elevators."
"Or you could come with me and give me opinions on my outfit." Oops. My tone sounded a little testy. I could still remember how Blaine had looked at her the other day, and it bugged me a little. Not that I wanted to date him, but I couldn't help being a little jealous of Emma. She did what she wanted, she dressed the way she pleased, and she never worried about what anyone thought of her. Yet, people gravitated toward her anyway. How could they not? She was the most alive and vibrant person I'd ever known.
Emma wrinkled her nose. "Hey, no problem, Shannon. I'll catch Blaine later. The bathroom it is."
Ok, now I felt bad. What was my problem? Since when did I care if Emma was nice to one of my co-workers? He was a miserable beast, and I hated him, so I certainly didn't care if Emma was friends with him. In fact, it would probably help my cause, wouldn't it? Of course it would. So, I didn't care. And to prove it, I'd tell Emma to go warm him up for the evening. "Emma."
"Yeah." She grabbed my suit bag off the back of my office door.
"You should go make sure he's coming." Oh, wow. That really hurt coming out.
She blinked. "Who?"
I tried to say Blaine, but the word stuck in my throat. "Dave," I blurted out instead. I was going to be struck down right then and there for lying. "Are Dave and Phoebe meeting us there?" Phoebe was the final third of my trio of friends. Emma, Dave, and Phoebe. My foundation. I'd met Emma in college, I knew Dave from high school, and Phoebe had been a paralegal at M&S when I first started. She'd been my one friend at th
e firm, and after she left to go to law school—ironic, huh?—we'd stayed good friends, though I still doubted she had the staying power to be a lawyer. She wasn't ruthless enough.
"Yep. They're coming." Emma glanced at her watch as she led the way to the bathroom, not even glancing in the direction of Blaine's office. She was so loyal. Never would Emma consider putting a man over friendship, and now I felt even more guilty. "They should be there in about five minutes, so we need to hustle. I don't want them to have to fend off too many drunk patrons while they hold a table for us." She raised her voice as she pushed open the door to the bathroom. "Blaine! Be ready in five!"
I actually heard him shout something back in response. Unbelievable. Blaine shouting through the halls of M&S. Leave it to Emma to turn him into something human. "Emma, can you not yell? I'd prefer not to get fired." Oh, wow. Now I was getting petty. What was wrong with me? Why was I so cranky?
"It's late. Anyone who is still here would welcome the excitement. I wouldn't do this at two in the afternoon."
Imagine if I shouted things to Blaine. I was so sure he'd respond. Yeah, right. He'd probably try to get me fired. That "unbecoming behavior" thing again. The beauty of being Emma. One, she didn't work here. Two, if she did, she still wouldn't care about losing her job or impressing anyone.
Sometimes, I really wanted to be Emma.
Emma went through an average of six jobs a year. It didn't faze her, and as long as her parents kept footing her share of the rent and utilities, it didn't bother me either.
She opened my suit bag and pulled out the three shirts I'd been debating between when I packed this morning. She held up the black tank top with the diving V-neck. "Oh, totally this one. This gives you serious cleavage. What pants?"
"Black jeans."
She held up my four-inch black heels. "Excellent choice. A woman in black tonight. Like a viper. I love it. It makes your hair look awesome."
"Really?" I'd never been one for the all black look, but this morning it had struck me as an option. I pulled off my shirt and bra and put on the black push-up one I'd bought the day I dumped Max.
One More Kiss (A Too Many Men Romantic Comedy / Chick Lit Novel) Page 5
