Deal

by Shey Stahl

  Stop that.

  On the way home that night I can’t stop thinking about him and that frustrates me. Oliver starts whining so I know I need to take him out before he pees on the floor.

  When I come back, Tathan is outside his apartment.

  Figures. I think he has spy equipment in there.

  “Hot tub tonight?” he asks, leaning again on my door.

  “Are you trying to make this a habit or something?” I’m also distracted because he’s leaning.

  “I’ll take anything you’ll give me. You don’t realize what you do to me...” he starts to say and leans into me, his body flush against mine pressed against the wall. “I’m at the point where I don’t care. I’ll beg if I have to just to see you in a bikini again.” I can feel the warmth from his body radiating against mine and the erratic beating of his heart against my chest, his breathing is slow and deep. I would like to think his heart is beating like this because he’s around me or maybe he has a heart defect but I’m inclined to think the latter.

  His admission somewhat weakens me.

  “If this is because of that kiss the other night ... that was a mistake, momentary lapse in judgment.” I say pushing away from him, well trying to but he does have me pinned pretty good.

  If only I was pinned under him on his bed.

  “I’ll bring some wine.” He’s into bribery now. “That’s what you like, right?

  He’s convincing, isn’t he?

  “Don’t get greedy. You’ve had two nights in the hot tub with me. That could be classified as our date.”

  “No way.” He shakes his head, the idea is absurd to him. “I said a date like with clothes on and candles. All that shit.”

  “No more hot tubs.” I push against his shoulder. “You’re going to turn me into a bucket girl.”

  “What makes you think I have a bucket of women?”

  “I’ve seen you. I know your type.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” His brow raises as if he knows he might just have to shake me to get me to understand this. “I don’t have any girls and kissing is good. I like kissing ... you ...” he says leaning into me, his lips inches from mine, scratch that, centimeters from mine. “I could use another kiss.”

  Ah crap, I really am screwed.

  I’m screwed because I lean in once again and press my lips to his once again. It takes a moment and then I realize what I’ve done and push back.

  “You have to stop kissing me.” I tell him and push away opening my door just as Oliver starts to growl.

  “Uh ... you kissed me.”

  “No, I didn’t, you kissed me.” I tell him and unlock my door trying to keep Oliver from attacking Tathan.

  “Let’s just go to the hot tub.”

  “Jesus,” I pick up Oliver and hold him tightly as he struggles to get loose. “What’s with you and this damn hot tub? You that sore?”

  “I like to soak.” He smiles so wide I see his dimples. It’s adorable.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So?”

  “No ...” I look down and use my puppy as an excuse. “I have to feed Oliver.”

  “I’ll wait.” He tells me putting his foot in the doorframe, and then winks.

  “Fine ... don’t expect kissing though. And you have to wait outside.”

  “No kissing.” He smirks and looks down at Oliver. “And I’ll wait out here, because you don’t trust me.”

  I step inside my apartment and Tathan watches Oliver as he backs up. “What’s wrong with your dog?”

  “He doesn’t like you.”

  “You keep saying that.”

  “Yet you don’t listen.” My words mean more than this dog and he knows it.

  Here we are again. Third night in the hot tub, starry night, wine and Elvis Presley playing on his phone through a pair of portable speakers he brought with him.

  “I’m really curious ...” He leans against the wall. “What makes you think I date those women at work?”

  “You’re constantly with them.”

  “Well,” he takes a drink of his beer, a slight pause before he continues. “Then others must think I’m with you.”

  “How so?”

  “This is our third time in this hot tub in the last three days.”

  He moves closer to me so our legs touch under the water. “And it’s certainly not easy to sit here with you and keep my hands to myself.”

  “Why do you then, you know, keep your hands to yourself?”

  Really Amalie? Shut up! Stop provoking him.

  He stares at me, I stare back—waiting, watching, daring each other to move.

  “You want me to touch you?”

  “Maybe.”

  What? You’re a fucking idiot. Shut up right now and stop drinking wine. Go back to your apartment.

  His touch beneath the water startles me, mid-thigh and strong, the other one moving to my face. “Like this?”

  No. Higher. Between my legs.

  Breathless I think I say, “Maybe.” When what I meant to say was, “YES!”

  Tathan’s wet hand on my face wraps around my neck and pulls me forward. I kiss him. I don’t even wait for him to do it. Our lips part and he slides the hand on my thigh around my waist pressing me flush against his chest.

  The kiss starts out slow, building and then I’m straddling him in the hot tub, my hands fisting his wet hair and his hands are pushing my hips down on him, and his erection. So fucking nice. Like perfect. Warmth spreads through my body when his mouth begins assaulting my neck with frantic kisses.

  “Sorry to interrupt.” A woman’s voice says behind us. We were so caught up we didn’t even notice someone had come in.

  Tathan groans, his head falling to my shoulder that we were interrupted.

  I’ve never met this girl but I’ve seen her around. I’m certain she is friends with Jade and lives on the first floor. I don’t like her. Don’t know her, but with the way she’s eyeing Tathan, validates that I don’t like her at all.

  “Oh, hey Elliott.” She says, acknowledging him and ignoring me like I’m not even there. Apparently I’m invisible.

  Elliott? She fucking knows him as Elliott?

  I move from his lap to sit beside him. In a motion I appreciate right then, his arms wrap around me and then he acknowledges the woman. “Hey, Becca.”

  I watch her body as she dips down in the water like she’s trying to be exotic about it. Though she has a decent body, when I look over at Tathan, he’s not even looking at her.

  Hmmm. Interesting.

  “So…” she gives him a smile. “About those pictures…”

  I don’t know why those words bother me but they do. The jealousy starts to rise leaving me confused.

  “I told you, Becca, I’m very busy.” Tathan says, his voice sharp. “I don’t have time and I’m booked out for a year.”

  Becca considers this. “But you’re here now. We could just go back to my apartment and do them there—”

  “I’m busy.” Tathan stands and grabs my hand and my wine bottle. “We’re busy.”

  When we get to my door, he hands me the bottle of wine he carried up and I still haven’t said a word about what I just witnessed. “I see you.”

  I have no idea what that means, so I ask, “What does that mean?”

  He turns to walk away intending to leave me with those words. My eyes are focused on him. There’s something sexy about the way he walks over to his door and then turns to look over his shoulder at me. “I think you know.”

  Ugh! He’s so frustrating!

  Remember when I said just when you think someone’s life is perfect, you see the flaws. Tathan knew everyone had them. He knew me without even trying.

  And the way he left that girl hanging, for me, that was him showing me he’s a good guy and knows that I’m breaking down.

  Thursday morning, I notice Tathan’s car is not in the parking lot. I’m both comforted and conflicted by this. Last night after the hot tub, and t
hat Becca chick. After he said, “I see you.” I couldn’t sleep wondering what that meant.

  When I set my purse on my desk I notice Paul is in his office, which is rare these days. Most of the time I only see him once a week.

  “Good Morning¸ Amalie, what’s your afternoon look like today?” Paul asks as I pass his office. This is bizarre because he never asks me this. He’s a laid back boss and usually as long as I’m busy he’s never in my business.

  “Nothing really,” I step toward his door pausing just before I enter. “What’s up?”

  Besides the fact that your son is probably the hottest male figure on the planet and I want to grind with him like Pretty Ricky says. And we sit in a hot tub every night drinking wine so I can stare at his half naked body without shame.

  Don’t tell Paul any of that.

  “Do you need me to do something?”

  “No. Just checking what your day looks like,” he says and picks up his phone, motioning for me to close the door.

  Well, that was weird.

  I disregard his spastic behavior and continue walking to my cubicle, irritated that I overslept and couldn’t get coffee this morning. Not only did I not make it to do some laps but you do not want to know me when I haven’t had my iced mocha. It’s like a cocaine addiction for me but cheaper and legal. If I wouldn’t have stayed up until nearly two stalking Tathan’s Facebook page I wouldn’t have overslept.

  As I sit down at my desk, I see a sticky note on my computer with handwriting I’ve never seen before, but have an idea as to who’s it might be. I examine the handwriting for a moment before Zane comes bouncing in with a box of paperwork we needed to go through from the Bank of America project.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he says throwing himself into my chair beside my desk. “Ohh, who’s that from?” he asks ripping the note from my hand, giving me a paper cut.

  “How the fuck should I know, asshole.” I say, irritated as I suck on my bleeding finger and then gag because the taste of blood is repulsive to me. “I just got here and I’m no handwriting specialist.”

  I know I’m being rude but I haven’t drank my coffee yet. Zane knows he can’t expect so much from me.

  “Wow, chil-lax muff.” He pats my hair. Zane takes the note and reads it out-loud. “Meet me for lunch?” He laughs and gives me a smile. “I know who that is.”

  “Who?”

  I don’t know why I ask this because I’m ninety-three percent sure who it’s from.

  “Elliot Warren ... or do you call him Tathan?” His smile is so wide it’s scary.

  “Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with you? Give me that.” I rip the note from his hands. “Now, we have work to do.” I push him off my desk because he is practically laying on it as if he owns the goddamn thing. “Get up you whore, this isn’t your bed.”

  “Fine,” he huffs and sits down with the box of paperwork in his lap.

  We’re almost finished when my desk phone starts ringing. Both Zane and I look over at it likes it’s a bomb or something because honestly, no one has my number so why would anyone call me. I don’t even know the number myself. The only phone I ever answer is for Paul.

  Zane lunges for the phone and before I can stop the little shit, he’s answering it for me. “Amalie Davis’s desk, how can I help you?” He’s cheerful and I’m sure he’s hoping it’s some construction worker he can ask out. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  He makes me sick that he can be this nice at eight in the morning. I need at least until ten and several iced mochas before I can resemble the living and even then you’re asking a lot of me.

  I throw myself into my enormous swivel chair and stare out at the city through the large glass windows behind my cubicle.

  Zane giggles which always sounds weird coming from a twenty-five-year-old man but he does it. “Oh, yes, she’s right here.” Before I can run away, he pushes the phone to my ear and whispers, “Be nice to him.”

  “This is Amalie.” I say trying to be professional but very annoyed now because I know who it is. Who else would Zane tell me to be nice to?

  “Did you get my note?” I’m not sure whether I should smile or growl at him.

  “How did you get this number?” I demand.

  “I work there.” Tathan laughs. “It’s pretty easy to find it.”

  “What do you want?” Even I’m surprised by my tone and I feel the need to apologize. “I’m sorry, was that harsh?”

  “I’m sorta terrified.”

  “I haven’t had my coffee yet.” I apologize and then wonder why I do.

  “Look up.” He says amusement evident in his tone now.

  I look up to see Zane standing there just a foot from me with an iced mocha in his hand and a big fucking grin. I didn’t even notice he left, let alone that he reappeared with coffee. Two coffees.

  I hold my hand over the phone. “Where did that come from?” I ask Zane.

  I can hear Tathan chuckling in the background.

  “I wouldn’t want you to terrify anymore people this morning.” Tathan says with a laugh.

  “I’m only looking out for their safety.”

  “What do you want?”

  He takes a deep breath and then he hits me with it. “I want you to meet me for lunch.”

  “I don’t have time.” I lie. I do have time but I’m afraid if I do go to lunch with him it will end in my attacking his beautiful face again and succumbing myself to a life in the bucket. “And I told you, no date until after the wedding. Stop pushing your fucking luck.”

  “I think you have time. Paul told me you have nothing planned this afternoon.”

  Why that backstabbing asshole.

  “I’m going to file a restraining order against you?”

  “That sounds like fun.” He says. His raspy tone makes me weak and I giggle before I can stop myself.

  “Will you stop it?”

  “It’s technically not a date.” He defends. “It’s lunch.”

  “That’s a date. My answer is still no.”

  I hang up on him because he’s persuasive and the longer I talk to him the more I want to give in.

  As soon as I slam the phone down, Zane starts rambling about how dreamy Tathan is and I want to either gag or agree, especially when he starts talking about doing a reverse cowgirl on him. Not an image I wanted to think about, unless I’m doing the reverse cowgirl with Tathan. Why do I even know the names of these positions?

  Oh yeah, your neighbor is a stripper.

  I think about the reverse cowgirl and the deep-sea diver position with Tathan and me for a good hour.

  Zane has actual work to do today so he stands taking his coffee with him. “He’s such a nice guy.”

  “Yeah, sure he is.”

  The problem is, he is a nice guy.

  Sweet Cheeks comes into the office around nine, gloating about her night. I think she’s talking about Tathan but that couldn’t be, I was with him, in the hot tub.

  Now I’m really confused.

  Zane walks by and hands Paul a folder.

  “Zane!” I whisper and chuck my pen at him so he’d turn and look. He was watching the UPS guy outside and clearly not paying attention to me.

  “Who is she talking about?” I whisper harshly when he stops at my desk.

  Zane doesn’t look my direction for long, there was another UPS guy outside now and his attention was fully diverted. Not only is he shamelessly gawking at the men on the street but he’s dancing around with one headphone in, the other hanging down as I’m sure he’s listening to a Britney Spears song.

  “Penis boy?” I yelled causing the entire office to prairie dog and look over at me. Thankfully, Zane gets the point and pulls his headphones off.

  “What’s up, muff?”

  I take my ruler out of my desk drawer and slap his forehead. “Don’t call me muff. It’s weird coming from you.”

  “Oww ... what do you want?” he rubs his forehead that’s turning red.

  “What’s Sweet Chee
ks saying over there?”

  “Who’s Sweet Cheeks?” he asks, scratching the side of his head.

  “Uh ... her ...” I pointed to the tall blonde standing by the coffee bar.

  “I don’t know her name.”

  “Oh ... that’s Lucy.” He puts his ear buds back in and shakes his ass at me, starting to walk away. I tackle him, inappropriate office etiquette, but I could give a flying fuck about any of that.

  “Is there a problem, Amalie?” Paul asks when he steps out of his office and sees Zane and me on the floor, wrestling.

  “Uh, yeah, actually there is.” I get off Zane and point my finger toward him straightening out my dress with the other one. “Did you tell Tathan I was free this afternoon?”

  “Come into my office.” He turns to Zane who’s on the floor still. “Zane ... get off the floor.”

  Zane trips me when I stand up. Turning to glare I give him an inappropriate gesture to cement this clusterfuck of a day before walking into Paul’s office.

  I walk in and sit in the chair next to the door ready for some answers. “Spill the beans.” I tell him.

  “What do you want to know?” He takes a seat behind his desk and the smirk on his face tells me right then he told Tathan I was free and might have possibly been telling him other details.

  “What’s with your son ... why is he all up in my business all the time. Doesn’t he get enough play in the office that he doesn’t need to ask me out?”

  He shakes his head. “Tathan doesn’t get play around here if that’s what you’re implying. Far from that ... but that’s something you need to talk to him about, not me. Give him a chance, he really likes you.”

  “So everyone keeps saying.” I’m being sarcastic and he knows it.

  “Why me? When he can have any woman he wants, why me?”

  “Amalie, you know the type of person he is…he sees things in people that they don’t even see in themselves.” Paul has a point. I have to learn to overlook the why of why he wants me in his life and focus on the moment, focus on Tathan and forget about the fact throngs of women are clamoring to have him worship their bodies with the camera. Yep, not going to go there at all.