by Fiona Murphy
The menu is a wide variety leaning toward a steakhouse, still, it has almost everything, including fish. I order my usual a side salad with house dressing, my main entrée is steak, rosemary covered roasted potatoes, and asparagus even though I’m not a fan of asparagus. I’m not a fan of green vegetables at all really; spinach is one of the few vegetables I’ll eat, usually uncooked.
Holly selects a side salad with house dressing. Her main entrée is salmon with sides of parmesan encrusted French green beans and wild rice. The waiter is staring down her scoop-necked dress and I give him a look. He’s gone in an instant.
“Give me a hint. Is it animal, vegetable or mineral?”
“I’m not talking about my stupid tattoo. Since we’re out because I did good, you have to answer my questions. Why did you become a lawyer?”
She’s sincerely curious. I debate whether to be honest or not. Looking into her soft sherry brown eyes, I go with honesty. “I wanted a degree I could use in almost any high power position. Lawyers are sitting in investment houses, head corporations, and a wide variety of industries.”
“You wanted to make a lot of money to get to a position of power.” It’s no question.
“Yes.”
Her eyebrows are up. “Why?”
“My father told me I would never amount to anything. I wanted to prove him wrong.”
“When did he tell you that? Why did he pay for your education if he said that?”
“He didn’t pay for me to go to Penn State or Harvard. My dad was one of eight kids born in Mobile, Alabama. Ask my dad though, and he won’t admit it. He never spoke about how he grew up. He joined the Army and never looked back, didn’t even keep in contact with his brothers and sisters. One of his brothers managed to squirm into our lives because he was a successful physician.
“When I went into juvie, my uncle was the only one to come to see me the whole year I was there. He promised that once I got out and went back to school, real school not getting a GED, he would pay for my schooling all the way up to a doctorate, if I wanted. As a bachelor without a wife or children, he could afford it. I worked my ass off to make him proud.”
“And you proved your dad wrong, too.”
“Yes. What about you? Why did it take you four years to get out of community college when your intelligence is clear?”
“My parents didn’t have much money. I paid my own way, working and going to school wasn’t easy. Then my mom messed up her back really badly. Since my parents couldn’t help me to pay for school, their concession was for me to live at home rent free. When she got hurt, I had to drop out to take care of her. God forbid my father actually cook his own breakfast or make a sandwich.”
“You didn’t apply to only a community college.” No way.
A blush highlights her high round cheekbones. “My mom made a big deal about me going far away. I got into Vanderbilt and Duke, close enough to please my mom, only neither of them came with scholarships. The problem was I couldn’t get loans. My mom has problems, she’s a shopaholic and wrecked their credit.
“It was fine, really. I didn’t, and embarrassingly still don’t know what I want to do with my life. To go to school without knowing what I wanted to do would have been a waste of money. I thought of maybe being a teacher, I like kids and wanted to work with them.”
“So, how did you end up a medical assistant?”
“Pretty much everyone I told about wanting to be a teacher went on and on about how poor the pay was, and how I would end up a babysitter with bratty kids. My mom urged me to go into the medical field because of the job opportunities, but I’m too squeamish to be a nurse. The community college pushed becoming a medical assistant, and how I could get into a doctor’s office or pediatric ward. Almost as soon as I started though, I didn’t like it. It took a while to admit it. I hoped maybe a change in city was the problem.”
“What made you pick Chicago? It’s a long way from Jacksonville.” She’s finally growing comfortable. Her beautiful eyes are seeing me instead of looking through me, as she has for the last few weeks. I’m growing hungrier for more of her like this.
“One of the women at the doctor’s office had moved recently from Chicago and waxed lyrical because she was homesick. Somehow, it niggled into my mind to come here. I got a job quickly, but it was just as bad, actually worse. The patients stacked to the brim with the doctors barely looking at them. One of the nurses there told me about the firm I was at recently. There were promises of big money with better hours, all lies. They couldn’t keep people; the husband got a bonus for every person who was hired.”
“If you could get paid to do anything all day long, what would you?” I’m curious.
She smiles wide, her eyes bright, “Read all day long.”
“No wonder you and Amelia get along. I remember her saying the same thing. From the time she was little she was always carrying a book. I understood; she came along when I was almost ten and away at boarding school. So, for many years we weren’t close, and it’s hard to make friends moving from base to base.”
“Sometimes books were the only friends I had. My brothers were close and I was the odd one out. When I was a kid, I tried to find all the jobs that would allow me to read all day. Only it became clear I couldn’t get hired as an editor by a publishing house with only a community college degree. Also, I needed to make money to get out of my parent’s home.”
“You did a great job hunting down the oddity in the bills.”
“That was actually pretty fun. There were a few tasks I liked to do at the investment firm that involved running numbers and making sure everything added up.” She seems surprised by her answer.
“An accounting degree would be easy to get online.” The idea of Holly spending her life cleaning doesn’t seem right.
“I don’t know, it’s a big commitment. I’m also not sure I want to spend my days under fluorescent lights running numbers.”
“You don’t have to work for a big firm, you could work for yourself. It’s a flexible degree, you can take clients on your own terms, and work the hours you want.”
Our food is brought out. We’re both quiet as we eat. It’s nice to see a woman actually eating a salad instead of pushing it around.
“That was good. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed. It’s annoying to take a woman out only to watch them move the food around on the plate without eating.” Her plate is almost clean. The parmesan encrusted green beans were apparently a hit. “Dessert?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Come on, they have the best cheesecake in the city.” Her smile is there and gone. I catch the eye of the waiter. “A piece of cheesecake and two forks.”
“Do you always have to get your way?”
“Things are better for everyone when I do.”
Her laughter is light, fuck, my chest expands simply hearing it. I realize then, I haven’t heard it before. “I remember the first time Amelia complained about you. By the time she finished her long rant, she had me thinking she was exaggerating. Then I met you. Now I know she was being kind.”
Great, now she has me laughing. The way she says things with a saccharine sweetness, that are complete putdowns. Aside from my sister, there’s never been another woman willing to go toe to toe with me verbally. It’s really fucking annoying that I find it appealing instead of irritating.
Chapter Thirteen
Hearing him laugh makes my stomach flip-flop. The waiter comes back with an enormous piece of cheesecake. How does he know my weakness is cheesecake? I watch Ethan pick up a fork and take a bite. Holy crap, the look of pleasure on his face is hot enough to make my nipples hard. He doesn’t play fair. Picking up the other fork I give in and fight not to swear out loud. This is the best piece of cheesecake I’ve ever eaten, that I didn’t make myself. I let out a sigh at how good it is.
“Can’t you be wrong just once?” I moan.
His smile is pure sin. “No, you don’t get to where I am by bein
g wrong.”
“There’s being right and there’s being an asshole about it. Would it kill you to be polite about some things when you deal with people?”
“In my field, nice puts you at the bottom of the pack. Polite makes you look weak. Weakness is never shown, not even to people who are supposed to be your friends. I’ve had associates I came up with try to cut me out of deals we worked on together. I look out for me, no one else will.”
“Is it worth it?”
He shrugs. “I have what I want. Sooner than I thought I would get it.”
I look down to see we’ve managed to finish the cheesecake. The waiter appears with the check. Considering there weren’t any prices on the menu I don’t even want to guess at the cost of our meal. Even though I hadn’t wanted to go out with Ethan, I’m glad I have. Learning more about him, I understand him better. It doesn’t excuse his asshole behavior, but now I get why he is the way he is.
As we leave, his arm goes around me. His hand is at the small of my back, guiding me out. My body tingles at his touch, making me want to press my entire body against him. When we get out of the restaurant, I notice Ethan is quick to open my door before Ricky gets to it.
“Have you been to the observation deck, yet?”
“At the Willis Tower? I keep meaning to, but no.”
“Ahh... you’re showing your newly-arrived-to-the-city status. For Chicagoans it will always be the Sears Tower, just like the Cloud Gate will always be The Bean.”
I laugh at his serious expression. “Whatever, you aren’t a native either. Okay, what’s the deal with the Sears Tower versus the Willis Tower?”
He tells Ricky to take us to the Sears Tower. “I’ve been here more than ten years, and I know I never want to live anywhere else. The Sears Tower has been the name since it was built. Then the naming rights expired in two thousand nine and the Willis Group Holdings leased a large portion of the building, thereby gaining the right to call it the Willis Tower. However, Chicagoans don’t like change very much. For years after Macy’s bought it, people still referred to it as Marshall Field’s. Only recently has it become Macy’s to the natives.”
“That’s one of the things I love about this city, the history and the old beautiful architecture. Sometimes I take walks for the sheer fun of it. It makes the locals crazy when I walk slow, taking in the sights.”
“Slow-walkers.” Shaking his head, he mutters. “Have you been on a water sightseeing tour?”
“Yes, it was great. I really enjoyed it.”
Ethan tells Ricky we’ll be about a half hour and to go ahead and park. Getting out, he comes around and opens my door. I take the hand he offers to help me up. I hope it’s dark enough he doesn’t see my dress slide almost all the way up. Once again, his hand goes to the small of my back as he guides me into the building. He pays for us to go up to the observation deck. We get into the elevator and his arm settles on my waist.
“Hold on, you’ll feel the pressure change.”
His warning doesn’t really prepare me. I grasp at him as the only solid thing, and he chuckles and tightens his arm around me. The fear fades fast as the feel of him burns into me, my whole body feels electrified. Fighting not to moan, I’m saved by the opening of the elevator doors. Embarrassed, I laugh nervously, hoping he doesn’t see how my body has reacted to being against him. “Sorry, I grabbed you. You warned me.”
His jaw is tight, yet he smiles. “It’s okay, same thing happened when I brought Amelia here the first time. Come on, I want you to see this.”
There’s a line for it, there are around twenty people roaming the deck, but a line of five people waiting for a glass box protruding from the building. Immediately, I hang back. “Ethan, I don’t want to go in there.”
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of heights.”
“No, not really, but it’s different when you’re standing on glass.” I’m defensive. The line moves.
An arm goes around my waist, moving me along in the line. “You aren’t wimping out on me. Two seconds, one look down. I promise you won’t regret it. Until our turn, go check out the windows, to prepare yourself.”
He gives me a push and I go, pouting at his words about wimping out. Wow, the city looked beautiful from this high up all laid out below us. I’m fascinated, barely tuned into the others in the room, yet I feel his eyes on me the entire time. All too soon, his deep voice is calling me. I go, hesitantly. What if my fat ass breaks the glass or something?
His arm is around my waist, pulling me close. “I’ve got you, come on.”
Closing my eyes, I slide my arm around his waist moving with the heat of his body.
Hot air against my ear makes me shiver. “Open your eyes, Holly.”
Without thought, I do as he tells me. “Oh, my god.” I whisper, as I see the city below my feet. It really is amazing, the clear night sky allows a clear view all the way to the lake. Awe overcomes me at way the inky depths of the lake meet with the bright lights of the city.
“This is the way I feel every day. Like I have this at my feet, and that’s why I do what I do and am the way I am.” He whispers in my ear.
“So, it is worth it to you.”
“Yes.”
With a last look around at the city below I smile, I understand. “Thank you for showing me this.”
“Thank you for discovering Sharon’s theft. You’ve also been doing a good job. Ready to get back on the elevator?” He teases.
“Yes, if you’re okay with me manhandling you.”
His arm tightens around me. “I think I’ll survive.”
Then it happens, there’s a teenager with two friends waiting in line. Low but loud enough to be heard. “Thank god the fatty didn’t break the glass out there. I was worried I wouldn’t get a chance to see it.”
I feel Ethan go stiff. I’m mortified. The friends he is with are embarrassed. One of them shoves him away, telling him to shut up. Ethan moves, I see it out of the corner of my eye, his foot goes out to trip the kid. With wail of pain, the kid hits the floor and we keep walking.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” My throat is tight, it comes out as a whisper as we get into the elevator.
“Yes, I should. If I did what I really wanted to do, I would lose my license.” He whispers into my ear. There’s another couple in the elevator, they are careful not to meet our eyes.
When the pressure shifts, I hold Ethan tighter. He calls Ricky to tell him we’re ready. We’re waiting on the sidewalk for Ricky. “The kid can’t be blamed for having the same thought I did. That was the real reason I didn’t want to go out on the glass. I was terrified I would crack it or something.”
Shaking his head. “Bullshit, from you and the kid. Don’t put yourself down. I don’t want to hear you thinking shit like that again.”
I open my mouth then Ricky pulls up. I let it go. We’re both quiet on the way home. As I’m about to go into my room my throat tight from fear of letting the night end, I whisper, “Thanks for the night out.”
“You’re welcome.” He says, as he keeps walking.
****
The next week is back to normal, as if the night out never happened. In the morning, Ethan rarely says more than a few words to me. He stays out until midnight, sometimes even later. Every suit is coated in a different woman’s perfume. I tell myself it doesn’t matter, yet I feel like I’ve lost something.
I want to cancel lunch on Saturday with Amelia, except I know she’ll come to the condo instead. The moment the waiter leaves with our orders, she starts in on me.
“What happened? Did Ethan do something I need to kick his ass for?”
“It’s nothing, he didn’t do anything. How are things going at work?”
Amelia rolls her eyes. “No way, tell me.”
I can’t talk to her about Ethan. Without remorse, I lie. “I’ve been thinking about going back to school, only I’m not sure what way to do it. Now I feel overwhelmed by the whole process.”
She looks lik
e she’s not sure if she believes me, then lets it go. “How exciting! What are you thinking about going back to school for?”
“Accounting, I actually had fun tracking down Sharon’s theft, going through the numbers. But, like I said, it’s overwhelming. Do I do an online course and what schools online look appealing to an employer? Online seems like the easiest route, only, I’ve been looking at the University of Chicago and they have really flexible classes.”
“There’s nothing wrong with an online degree. I know plenty of people who are doing them. I can get you the names of some good online schools.”
“Thanks, I would appreciate it. Now, really, tell me. How is work going?”
Chapter Fourteen
The moment the words come out of the kid’s mouth I want to put my fist through his face. Then I see the look on Holly’s face and I want to tear him apart piece by piece. Settling for sending the kid face first into the floor wasn’t nearly satisfying. Until then, I would have called the evening one of the best I’ve had in months. Holly clinging to me in the elevator made my cock hard enough it hurt. Yet, it was worth it to have her in my arms. Damn, she felt good against me. Then the fucking kid’s words brought me back to earth with a crash, reinforcing all the reasons why I originally believed she isn’t for me.
Over the next week, I try hard to go back to normal. Every night I go out, telling myself this is the night my cock will get hard again for a woman other than Holly, only it doesn’t. Frustration has me tense, it’s only been three weeks and she’s driving me to drink.
Every night I take home the woman I’ve called, then head to the cigar bar, sipping on scotch, and brooding over Holly. It doesn’t help I’ve managed to pick up four new clients. For the first time, work isn’t giving me the refuge I need. Once a week, I have lunch with Amelia, the whole time she chatters about Holly—who has now become her best friend somehow.
