Getting the Goods

by Elizabeth Perry

  I am curious as hell as to what kind of plans she has, and exactly what kind of life she leads outside of these four walls.

  Of course, I know where she lives, and I know that she likes to bake apple pie. I also know that she’s trying to get herself knocked up and that she uses some kind of hair products that smell like witch hazel.

  However, that’s where my knowledge of Gabriella ends.

  “Listen.” I step inside of her office and shut the door behind me. Her eyes widen as I do this, and her nostrils flare.

  I know that she’s fighting like hell to keep it together and would love nothing more than to give me a piece of her mind right now.

  Lucky for me, she manages to keep her mouth shut.

  “I’m sorry for the short notice, but this dinner was arranged urgently. Anderson Trucking is nervous about Carter and I taking over this company. He did business with the original owner, your old bosses’ grandfather. He continued business here because of an agreement that he made with that man, but now he is looking to potentially pull away. He doesn’t trust us. He needs to see familiar faces, like yours. I need your help in keeping this customer.”

  “How in the hell am I supposed to help? I don’t exactly trust you, either.”

  “Gabriella, please. This is a requirement of your position, and you agreed to this at your interview. Do you really want to go out, and tell all of your coworkers that they can’t keep their jobs because you are too busy to go to a free dinner?”

  If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now.

  Her face turns bright red, and her eyes are murderous as she stares at me hard. She clenches and unclenches her fists several times, before finally shaking her head.

  “Fuck,” she mutters under her breath. She sighs hard again, and then flashes me the fakest smile that I have ever seen.

  “Well, Conner, let me just change all of my plans. I’m sure that I can make dinner work.”

  I lean back on my heels and sigh.

  “Great, sounds perfect. Thanks for making it work. I’ll see you tomorrow at six.”

  I nod at her once, and then turn on my heel, hurrying out of her office.

  I’m pretty sure that she’s going to snap, and I’d like to be far away from her when she does.

  Especially since when she does lose it, it’s totally going to be directed at me.

  The next night at quarter to six, I’m sitting at the bar in the Regency Hotel’s restaurant, waiting patiently for Gabriella to arrive. Dinner isn’t until six thirty, but I wanted to make sure that she actually showed up.

  An extra half an hour would have allowed me to track her down.

  I only wait a few minutes, until, my attention shifts to the entrance, and I watch as she makes her way inside.

  She’s dressed in a simple black dress. It’s really nothing to write home about, but dammit all if my breath doesn’t get caught in my throat.

  It hugs her curves just enough to make my eyes travel from her face, down to her chest, where temporarily, they get stuck.

  My pants become a bit snug as she spots me and begins to make her way towards me.

  “Hey.” I clear my throat, trying to force myself to think about anything other than the way that she looks right now.

  “Hey.” She stares at me in question, and then turns towards the bartender.

  “I’ll have a glass of chardonnay,” she tells him with a smile. The second that her attention turns back to me, her mouth flattens.

  “Where is our table?”

  “It’s not quite ready yet,” I tell her. “Dinner isn’t until six thirty.”

  “Six thirty!” Her mouth drops open as she stares at me. “You told me six!”

  “I know that I did, and that’s because I wasn’t entirely sure that you would show. I wanted to leave myself enough time to track you down if you didn’t.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mutters, snatching her glass of wine off of the bar and downing in all in one gulp, making both the bartender and I raise our eyebrows at her.

  “On second thought,” she tells the bartender, “can I just have a whole bottle of wine?”

  “Of course, you can, beautiful.” The bartender winks at her, and I hold up my hand.

  “Oh no. No fucking way. You cannot have an entire bottle of wine for a business dinner. That is not ok.”

  “Calm yourself, Andrews,” she mutters. “I have full intention on finishing the bottle before dinner starts. That way, Mr. Anderson won’t think that I’m a drunk.”

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter, glancing to the bartender. “Fine. She can have the bottle, but only one more glass now before dinner. You can have another during dinner, and then one after. That is it.”

  She snorts at me, and then rolls her eyes.

  “You are not in charge of how much I drink, and furthermore, you should welcome me drinking heavily. I might actually be able to be nice to you.”

  “As tempting as that is, since I’ve been on the receiving end of your niceness while drunk, I’m sticking with my agreement.”

  “First of all,” she hisses at me while the bartender refills her glass, “I was drinking tequila that night. That’s the only reason that you were on that end of my niceness, because had I been sober, I would have never done any of that with you.”

  “No?” I raise an eyebrow. “So, some other poor fucker would have been caught up in you?”

  Her nostrils flare, and she grips the fresh glass of wine so tightly in her hand that I worry for a second that she will break the glass.

  But then, she exhales, and sinks into the chair at the bar.

  “Listen, Conner. The only way that this is going to work tonight is if we don’t speak. Every time that you open your mouth, I contemplate murder. I am not a violent person, but you seem to bring out the crazy in me. So, can you do that? Can you just sit there and shut the fuck up?”

  The bartender glances between the two of us in question, until finally, I shrug at him.

  “Can you believe that I’m her boss?”

  He snorts, and shakes his head before moving down to the other end of the bar.

  “Alright, Gabriella. I’ll make that deal with you. I can’t not talk to you, but I will agree to not talk about that night, alright?”

  “Thank you.” She nods at me once, taking a small sip of her wine. “I would appreciate that.”

  “I just have one question.”

  She instantly tenses up again.

  “What kind of plans did you have to miss in order to be here?”

  “That’s really none of your business.” Her voice is clipped as she continues to twist her glass in her hands.

  “I know that it isn’t. I’m simply curious, because if it was something really important, I want to apologize. I didn’t give you very much notice, and for that, I’m sorry. I do really appreciate you being here tonight.”

  Her face softens as she turns towards me.

  “Thanks, Conner. That actually means a lot. I had a date. That’s all. It was pretty important to me, but my assistant Natalie being able to keep her job is far more important.”

  “A date,” I repeat as I turn to face her. “You got that worked up over a date? Jesus. You acted like I was making you miss your grandmothers eightieth birthday party or something.”

  “Well, maybe this date was very important to me! Which it was, mind you. It was very important.”

  She tilts her wine glass up and drains the liquid.

  “You’re going to be shitfaced before dinner.” I nod at her glass. “You’re slamming that wine.”

  “I’m just drowning my sorrows.”

  “Over a date? It can’t be that serious. I mean, you were just fucking me last week.”

  With that, she slams her wine glass back onto the table.

  “You know what? Fuck you, Conner. You just agreed not to speak of it, and you made it about two seconds. I’m about to tell you what you can do with my job, and I promise
you, you won’t like it. I only have so many days that work for dates, alright? And if you bring up what happened between us one more time…”

  “I’m done.” I hold my hands up and turn around in my chair, facing the bar. “I promise, I’m done.”

  “I am too.” She shoves her chair back and hops to her feet.

  “I’ll wait for Mr. Anderson in the lobby. You can sit here, and be oh so fucking awesome, all by yourself.”

  “C’mon, Gabriella.” I grab underneath her shoulder and pull her body next to mine.

  She continues to giggle.

  “Are you sure that you’ve got her?”

  Isaac, the marketing manager, asks me as we head towards the parking lot.

  “Yeah.” I nod at him. “I’m staying in this hotel, so I’m going to drive her home in her car. I’ll have a Carter follow me and pick me up at her house.”

  “Alright.” Isaac eyes me warily, before looking at Gabriella. “Gabs? Are you ok with that? Do you feel safe with Conner bringing you home?”

  It’s my turn to stare at him. Little does he know, I’ve already been way up inside of Gabriella’s body. But then again, maybe he has too.

  I suppose if she’s the kind of woman willing to climb into my bed on the first night and then get pissed off about having to cancel a date the next week, she quite possibly is the kind of woman to sleep with her co-workers too.

  Isaac is married with kids, but, you just never know.

  The idea of him having been with Gabriella inspires a whole lot of rage inside of me, for no damn reason at all.

  She was nothing more than a one night stand, one that could have gotten complicated for me really quickly, had her plan worked out.

  I need to remind myself of that.

  “It’s fine.” She giggles again, as Carter nods at me.

  “I’ll follow you there.”

  Isaac shifts uncomfortably, glancing between the two of us.

  “I don’t know, I don’t really like this. I can bring you home, Gabs. And then I can bring you to your car in the morning.”

  “No, no.” Gabriella waves him off. “You don’t have to do that, Isaac. I know how crazy your Saturday mornings are with the kids. You go ahead. Conner can drive me, and that way, I’ll have my car. I’ll be fine.”

  “If you’re sure.” He glances between all of us again, and then sighs as Gabriella nods.

  “Alright, fine. But call me as soon as you get home.”

  “I will. Tell Meredith that I said hello.”

  We say our goodbyes, and I all but carry Gabriella towards the parking lot. She points to a black Jetta, and I cringe, as I help her inside and try to slide my six-foot five frame into the driver’s side of the tiny vehicle.

  “Are you sure that you’re ok to drive?” she questions, making me laugh.

  “Yeah. Unlike you, I didn’t have a whole bottle of Jack Daniels.”

  “I was peer pressured.” She groans. “I crumple under pressure.”

  I have a hard time believing that.

  “Well, whatever that was tonight, I fucking hope that I see it again. You need to be at all of our business meetings. All of our dinners. You handled that old truck driver like a pro, and pretty much saved our company.”

  “Fuck yeah, I did.” She giggles, leaning all of the way back in her seat. “If all business dinners are that much fun, you can definitely count me in. Although, I don’t know if I will be able to drink Jack Daniels any time soon. You’re going to have to schedule with someone who likes vodka.”

  “Business with the Russians it is, then.”

  Another giggle leaves her mouth as she settles back against her seat.

  I crank the engine and pull out onto the street, motoring in the direction of the highway that leads to Gabriella’s neighborhood.

  “You did really good tonight,” I tell her.

  “I know. You’ve already said that a few times,” she responds, making me chuckle.

  Dammit all, it’s worth being said ten times. She did better than good. She fucking rocked out our business dinner and handled that old trucker like she was one herself.

  Kirk Anderson was ready to pull his business from us tonight, but Gabriella was on fire.

  He had sat down at the table with us, and I could tell immediately that he was going to pull the plug.

  He had eyed Carter’s water glass and my beer with disgust as he ordered straight Jack. Gabriella must have picked up on it, because she instantly piped up and said that she wanted the same.

  I’m not sure how many drinks that they had, but I know that our liquor bill was astronomical. But fuck, it was worth it.

  At the end of dinner, he told us that he wasn’t planning on continuing to do business with us, but that he can’t say no to a woman willing to drink straight Jack Daniels.

  Thank you, Gabriella.

  So, I’m totally not bothered by the fact that she got shitfaced drunk at a business function.

  In fact, I owe her.

  I turn her Jetta in the direction of the highway, that leads out of the city and into the suburbs, where she lives.

  She settles herself into the seat, and as I look over, I notice that her short black dress has risen way up, exposing her creamy white thighs, and a strip of black lace.

  My dick instantly grows.

  Maybe it’s because I already know what’s lying underneath that black lace, and fuck me, if the spot isn’t a place meant for worshipping.

  I know that her tight little pussy is just sitting there, almost begging me to touch it.

  I could easily let my hand slide from the armrest onto her thigh, and then let my fingers trail upwards, and dip underneath, before sliding inside of her.

  I wonder if she’s having any of those thoughts of me right now. I also wonder if she would welcome my touch, or if it would get me decked in the face.

  It really could go either way.

  But if she was wet, and she did want me…

  I swallow hard. My dick throbs in my pants at the thoughts circling in my mind, and it almost takes over my brain.

  Almost.

  I click on the radio, trying to force myself to focus on something else. Gabriella’s nearly asleep in the seat next to me, so I’m guessing that sex isn’t exactly on her mind.

  I turn the volume up, before realizing that “I wanna sex you up” is currently playing. I listen to it only for a beat and then quickly turning the music off.

  Fuck.

  It’s like I’m destined to sit here with a raging hard on.

  I roll the window down, gulping in fresh air, and stepping on the gas, trying like hell to get her home as fast as I can.

  I need to be out of this car with her, away from the damn scent of hers that seems to totally fuck with my mind.

  My phone rings in the next moment, and Carter, who is following me, barks in my ear to slow the fuck down.

  I let off of the gas, just as she stirs.

  “You don’t have to try to stay awake,” I tell her. In fact, it would be a hell of a lot easier to get her home if she did just stay asleep.

  “I’m not trying to,” she sighs. “It’s just that when I close my eyes, everything spins. A moving car and a spinning world are a deadly combination, leading right to puke city. I need to keep my eyes open.”

  “Ok, then. Eyes are open.”

  “Can you keep me awake?” She flicks her glazed over eyes towards me, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying what I’m really thinking.

  Fuck yeah, baby. I could keep you awake all night long.

  “Alright. What do you want to talk about?”

  “I don’t know.” She moans. “Something, anything. I’m too drunk to focus right now.”

  “Fine. Lions or Tigers?”

  “Lions or Tigers?” she snorts. “That’s easy. Lions, all day long.”

  “That was a quick response. Go ahead and elaborate on that. Why Lions? What did Tigers ever do to you?”

  “Nothing. I just
like football better than baseball.”

  “Wait, what?”

  I burst out laughing.

  “I meant the animals, but ok. So, you’re a Lions fan.”

  “Hell no!” she glares at me. “I’m not a Detroit Lions fan. Is anybody a Lions fan?” she snorts. “I just like football better. I’m a Bears fan, obviously.”

  “Ok, noted. You like football, and you like the Bears. How about color, what’s your favorite color?”

  “Blue. And your questions suck, Andrews. You can do better.”

  I take the exit off of the highway, and slow down a bit as I enter the suburb that Gabriella lives in.

  I take a few turns and am almost sad when her road is just a mile or so ahead of us.

  “Alright.” I shrug. “Here’s what I really want to ask. Who was your date with tonight, and why were you so bummed to miss it?”

  “Because this week is my week.” She looks at me as though I’m stupid, and I’m not catching on.

  At first.

  But then…

  “Hold up. Your week, as in, your…”

  “Ovulation week? Yeah. This is the week that I can get pregnant.”

  I pull onto her street, and into her driveway.

  My mind is a complete cluster fuck of thoughts, as I step out of the car and travel around to her side, opening the door for her and helping her out.

  She giggles, and then stumbles, as I help her up the sidewalk and into her house. I see Carters lights as he turns down the street and parks by the curb. I hold up a finger to him and he nods, as I continue to help Gabriella inside.

  “I’m lost, here. Is this some kind of game to you? Did your date know that this was your ovulation week?”

  “God, no,” she shutters, and I let go of her for just a moment as I shut the door. The second that my arm moves off of her, she stumbles, and nearly falls.

  I catch her right before she hits the ground.

  “Whew.” She grins up at me. “I guess I’m a little tippy on my feet.”

  “You could say that again.” I stare hard at her, wishing like hell that I could understand what in the hell is wrong with this woman.

  If it weren’t for the fact that she tried to steal my sperm, and then, totally planned on setting some other chump up for the same fate, she’d be the perfect woman.