I bristled and stepped back. “True. I moved here for you.”
His smile wilted at the edges. “You couldn’t find a job with that useless degree and I had to delay our wedding. You became—”
I gritted my teeth, “The fat spoiled princess.”
Declan covered his mouth, to suppress a chuckle I suspected. “I said that in anger,” he said once he composed himself. I stood stoic as his eyes assessed me from head to foot. “You lost some.”
I folded my arms around my waist, touching my almost flat stomach. Some? “I’m done with this conversation.”
I started walking away when he gripped my arm tightly. Any more pressure would leave a mark. I stared at his hand like I had so many times in the past, until he dropped it away. I flushed as I glanced around checking if anyone had witnessed it, only to find Jonas’s face set in stone. I shook my head and managed a weak smile towards him. He didn’t smile back, nor remove his focus from me.
“I was only teasing,” Declan said, getting my focus back to him. “You know me, come on. But hey, look at you now? You look cute. I mean, what I want to say is, I miss you.”
I paused as I didn’t see any twinkles in his eyes or grin on his face. Did he mean it?
“Are you sleeping through the night now?” His tone was warm, as he made his inquiry.
I glanced up at him and smiled. He remembered, I thought as my mind highlighted the positives, as it often did between us. “I’ve been keeping busy at work, and it tires me out. I haven’t stayed up all night in a long time now.”
“You can always call and I’ll talk you through whatever you need.” He touched my arm. “Come over, make you feel good. You’re still my good girl.”
I didn’t meet his eyes because I feared what he would find there. He experienced that part of me too often, and used it too well.
“Declan.”
We turned and a tall and thin mousy woman with large brown eyes and severely cut bobbed hair approached us. She was wearing an ill-fitted gray silk dress.
“I told you to wait over there.” Declan stumbled on his words.
She ignored him, directing her glare towards me. “I’m Heather, Declan’s fiancée. You are?” Heather reached out for me to shake her jewel-encrusted hand. The iceberg on her ring finger almost blinded me and my triviality noted it was larger than the one he had purchased for me.
I blinked rapidly. I wasn’t sure if it was from the ring or the crushing blow enfolding before me. “Congratulations,” I said. She cleared her throat and turned towards Declan.
“We’re not engaged,” Declan hissed. He turned on Heather. “I didn’t buy that for you to go around—”
“Just leave me alone, Dec.” I bit the inside of my cheek as I walked away.
“I’ll call you, Lily,” Declan said, before turning his wrath on Heather.
“Please don’t.” I stumbled away and headed towards the bar exit for home. As I reached the door, I felt a hand at my elbow. I was tempted to pull away, but I turned and found Jonas, his face set in a concerned expression.
“Lily, what happened?” Jonas asked.
Tears rose within me and filled my eyes. Without a word, he reached out and pressed his hand on the small of my back and led me out of the bar and into the lobby of the hotel.
When we stopped, I stared down at my heels. “I’m sorry, Jonas. I’m not up for more conversation tonight.” I choked. He lifted my chin up to meet his eyes, and I trembled.
“I’m not leaving you alone crying,” he said.
I turned my head. “I’m not crying. I’m just…shocked. He’s engaged.” I covered my mouth with my hands. He stepped close. So close I could feel the heat of his body behind me. I inhaled and took in his scent, some type of expensive cologne or aftershave. My body hummed. If I stepped back would he engulf me and give me what I needed and craved?
Wait a minute, I thought, my mind waking up to the company I was sharing. This was Jonas Crane, not just some guy at the bar. And even though some sparks flew between us, he was at most being a gentleman. I needed to behave and not make a fool of myself by attempting to flirt with him.
I took in a short breath, “I think we both had our fill of drama for the evening.” I stepped further away from him, and got the strange impression he let me. “I apologize for bringing you into this. I enjoyed our conversation. I just don’t want to further impose….”
Jonas eyed me speculatively. “I’ll have my driver David take you home.”
“You can’t. Arch has a car service, I live all the way in Jersey—”
“My driver will see you home,” he said cutting me off. His authoritative tone didn’t leave room for challenging. No doubt a glimpse of the man that was a leader in business and beyond, and I fell right under his command and stopped.
He reached his hand inside his suit jacket and removed a cellphone, at the same time, lightly clasped my arm as if assuring I wouldn’t run off. Not at all like Declan’s tight grip, more so a gentleness in it. A warmth filled me as I glanced over him, and his stance in front of me. Apparently, I wasn’t going anywhere without him.
Chapter 4
“David is out front ready to take you to Jersey City,” Jonas released my arm.
I rubbed my hands over where his fingers had just been, bereft from the loss of his touch. “You didn’t have to hold me captive. I wasn’t going to run away.”
He eyed me speculatively. “No. I suppose not,” he said softly. He placed his hand along my lower back and guided me out of the hotel. When we arrived outside, we stopped in front of a black Bentley.
I glanced at the open door and muttered, “Oh the milk of human kindness.”
“What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature is too of the milk of human kindness,” he replied.
My lips parted. “You quote Macbeth?”
“Yes. But I hope you don’t share Lady Macbeth’s sentiment,” he said and winked.
I flushed. “No. Sorry. I think compassion is honorable. I…I don’t know, I ramble when I’m uncomfortable.”
His lip twitched. “You quote Shakespeare when you’re ‘uncomfortable,’” he bemused.
I shrugged and gave him a small smile. “Well, sometimes…Thank you, Jonas.”
He reached inside his jacket, pulling out a card and handed it to me. Four phone numbers. Two for New York, and two for Texas.
I pressed the card in my hand and noticed he hadn’t moved away from the door. Was he waiting for something? I stared up at him.
Jonas arched a perfect brow. “Your phone number?” he mused.
My eyes widened as my pulse sped up. Jonas Crane wants my phone number? It was akin to getting asked out by a crush. A toothy grin spread across my face. Calm down. I rattled off my number and he programmed it into his cellphone. I covered my mouth.
“I wish I could ride with you,” he said. “But I have a call in an hour, and an early yoga session with my ex and my son Paul.”
“Yoga. Another hobby?” I asked, my brow raising.
He nodded and leaned against the door. I clasped my hands in my lap to try to hide my trembling. “The ride home is really too generous. Thank you.”
Jonas leaned down close to me as if he was breathing me in. “You can pursue me for Arch again,” he said in a low rumble that sent a shiver through me.
He brushed his lips against my cheek.
The kiss on the surface was innocent, but didn’t match the potent heat coming off his body. My body answered with my own wave of lustful longing as an ache swelled between my thighs. The more he lingered, the less innocent my thoughts became and what might happen with this man who was proving himself irresistible.
His breath trailing over to my ear. “I didn’t mean to do that tonight. But you needed a kiss. Didn’t you?” he said just above a whisper.
I cast my eyes down and moved a tiny bit closer hoping he would kiss me again. He didn’t though. Instead he stepped back and straightened his blazer.
“Good night, Ms. Salomé.” His tone was all-professional, like he was addressing a client. Not a woman he just kissed and had me second guessing our time together this evening.
I lifted my chin and averted my eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Crane.”
His driver David closed the car door. I glanced out the window and found Jonas still there, watching us until the car entered the street.
Jonas was a danger just as Gregor warned me. I was naïve to think otherwise. Some people are too hard to resist, and he was a force majeure. So opposite from the ruthless, private businessman renown to the financial world. Undeniably alluring though approachable, engaging and charming. He was diverse, even able to engage on anthropology and quote Shakespeare. He captivated my mind after spending only a little time chatting with him. And then he kissed me.
His touch enlightened my senses and left me wanting more. Jonas had me believing in those moments; he understood me wanting to be touched, kissed, and gave it to me. But then at the end, he was professional and reminded me what our encounter meant to him, business. Jonas was and is truly well out of my league, but he was still willing to discuss business with me.
Shaking my head, I leaned against the window as we drifted back across the river to Jersey City. Trying to dispel any thoughts of a possibility with a man like Jonas, but I found it difficult, as I doubted I would ever forget my encounter with him.
We reached my loft apartment on Grove Street in Jersey City and the driver, David, insisted on seeing me to my door. Once we made our way to the fifth floor and over to 508, I thanked him for the escort, and unlocked the door to my apartment, sighing in relief. Something I did every day when I walked in. One of the best parts of living in Jersey City, I found, were the spacious apartments.
The loft had the typical vaulted ceilings and track lighting standard to a lot of apartments in the area. I had added two large black and white framed architectural prints, a blue modular couch, and two modern yellow chairs. I liked the two steel floor lamps Natasha brought with her, and the flat screen TV. Even with the few Sci-Fi and Art photos on our white walls, our space presented more like a “renter’s showroom” instead of a cozy home.
I walked a few feet to the kitchen and took out a bottled water, placing it on the gray granite counter. I had worried when I first moved in the white finish in the integrated kitchen would be hard to maintain, but the gloss finish had made it easy.
I headed straight down the short hall to the bathroom to wash off my makeup. I was brushing my hair when my phone went off. My brows rose as I stared at the screen, Gregor? At 11:39 p.m.? He never called me this late. I shook my head and laughed a little. I touched the screen and answered the call. “You can’t wait to see how your protégé did tonight?”
“Yes. So tell me what happened. Did you meet Jonas Crane?” Gregor asked.
I twirled the ends of my hair. “Thanks for that, I appreciate it. Yes. I did and he suspected right away I was a stalker of some sort. So I told him about Arch.”
“Did he mention me?” Gregor asked.
I bit my lip and sat down on the floor. He didn’t mention Gregor, but his facial expression wasn’t exactly kind. I didn’t want to upset this man I respected though. “I mentioned you, but he didn’t comment.”
Gregor didn’t say anything for a few moments. “Then he remembers me well. So, you’re home now. How did he leave it?”
I sighed. I hated disappointing him, but the task he gave me wasn’t something accomplished easily. “He gave me his card and said I could pursue him again for Arch. “
He snorted derisively. “I just bet,” he quipped.
I licked my lips. “He was a gentleman. He even had his private car take me home. Nothing happened.” Except he kissed me.
“My thoughts are directed at Crane, not you. I’m stressed. Arch is doing better, but small houses get crushed every year. Without a rainmaker like Crane, we may close. What do you think of our chances with him?”
I ran my hand through my hair. If I lost this job, what would I do? Not too many companies were recruiting an Anthropology major with just shy of two years’ experience. I could be starting over at twenty-five. “I don’t know, but I have his card to try him again,” I promised.
“That’s the spirit. Just play it slow, let him lead you. Men like Crane like to take charge. Give me an update when you have it.”
My mind replayed Jonas holding my arm while he contacted his driver to take me home. Yes. He does. “Will do. Thank you,” I said and hung up.
I stared at my phone. Was I ready to do whatever it took to seal the deal?
I didn’t like the idea of compromising myself to get business, but after meeting Jonas, I had to admit having sex with him wouldn’t be a hardship. Not that he’s even interested in sex with me. And even if I did, who was to say he would go ahead and sign with Arch? How would I feel about myself if he did?
I let go of my thoughts and finished brushing my teeth. Opening up the cabinet, I considered taking sleeping pills. Too much had happened tonight that I knew I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep right away. But then an antidote from my father came to mind and had me closing the door. ‘Salomé’s don’t depend on easy fixes. Drugs are easy fixes. Not solutions, Lily.’ I’ll try on my own.
Crossing the hall, I walked inside my bedroom. Opening the mirrored, double doors of my closet. I placed my dress in my dry-cleaning bag, putting the rest of the garments in my hamper. My phone chimed. Declan. No thank you.
Seeing Declan engaged only six months after our three years together made my stomach flip. All my traveling back and forth from Quincy down to New York to see him. Time I should have spent with my parents, had I known they would be gone. As for Jonas, he lived out of a suitcase and was based in Texas. Statistically, long distance relationships fail.
With that in mind, I put my phone back down and went to my closet, taking out my black tank top and Boston University black and red shorts. I changed into them and climbed into bed and waited for sleep to come.
Truly, I didn’t want to waste time on what-ifs. And I surely didn’t want to allow my mind to wonder about a potential client and the possibility of long distance heartache. Still, when I settled down under the covers, I couldn’t stop my mind from replaying my encounter with Jonas Crane.
His touch, and his kiss.
Chapter 5
Knocking. Incessant knocking at my door. I peeked through my long lashes at the large window along my wall. The sky was still mostly dark with streaks of light in the distance. Natasha.
“Come on, Lily,” Natasha called out. I turned over and spotted my roommate standing in the doorway. Her body, built like an athlete, all tone with no curves or hips to speak of, mocked me as she said, “Time for our run.”
“It’s too early. I’ll go to the gym later,” I grumbled.
Natasha pursed her bow mouth lips, “It’ll only take forty minutes.”
I stared at the ceiling. “For you. It’s cold outside,” I whined.
She held up a knit headband like the one she wore around her long ponytail and gloves. “You can borrow my other one,” she said.
When I didn’t respond, she continued, “Lily, you’re less fat now. If you want to keep looking better, you work at it.”
Her words stung, but worked as they often did with me. Natasha had the body I was bombarded with daily by magazines and on television. I found her body shape elusive, but a goal nevertheless. I shed the “finals fifteen” I gained in college. Fat, spoiled princess. The words echoed painfully in my mind.
I jumped out of bed into my jogging pants, sports bra, white T-shirt, and sneakers. I pulled my thick black hair into one big ponytail.
“I’m not talking an hour, just a short jog along the waterfront and back,” she said. “You can go to the gym tomorrow if you like.”
Natasha didn’t have to offer concessions, but I found they eased her ambush on me. I followed her onto the concrete sidewalk in front of our building and gaze
d across the water at the skyscrapers of New York City. I couldn’t help but think, there is beauty here too. Jersey City had become my home over the last two years, but my job in Manhattan was the reason I remained.
Puffing my way back to the apartment, my run had taken an hour and fifteen minutes to return to our loft on Grove Street. When I walked inside, I was pleased to find Natasha already out of the shower and immediately stripped off my clothing and climbed inside.
Once finished in the bathroom, I changed back into my tank and shorts and fell back into bed to sleep.
My phone went off sometime later. The sunshine burned on my eyes as I opened them. My body felt stiff as I lazily climbed out of the bed and down to the floor. I stared at the screen. It was my best friend from college, Mary. “Hello?”
“Do you remember the book on systematic economic dislocation and socioeconomic deprivation from Dr. Stamford’s course?” Typical Mary! I thought in admiration…manic about her academic research. I lived for these exercises.
An academic neuron in my left prefrontal cortex jolted. “American Apartheid, the book that discussed the creation and continuity of marginalization and segregation?”
“Thank you. I wanted to quote a few phrases for my paper. Just horrible,” she said and puffed. “So when are you coming back to Boston and back to academia where you belong?”
I grinned. “I will only return if they make a new Star Trek TV series.”
“You should be getting your Master’s Degree in Sociology with me at Boston College,” Mary said. She had been trying to talk me into going back for months, but after the difficult time I had finding a decent job with my bachelors in Anthropology, I had decided to pass due to the cost and Declan’s chiding on the ‘uselessness’ of the pursuit.
After experiencing such a difficult time trying to land a job in Anthropology, I would hardly disagree. But of course, I had thought I would be married and starting a family by now. “Declan is engaged,” I blurted out.
Tiger Lily: Part One Page 4
