"I enjoyed it."
I didn't know how to respond to that, and opened the car door. Jeff stood there, and I gave him a small smile and rushed to the elevators. I pressed the button and waited, glancing back at the black car. It stayed there, idling, Jeff once again in the drivers seat. The bell dinged and the door opened. Thankfully, the elevator was empty. I entered, press the button for the fourth floor, and leaned against the wall. I felt like I had missed a bullet, skipped across glowing coals, and then tied myself securely to the tracks of an incoming train. The bell dinged, sounding eerily like a far off train horn.
CHAPTER 12
Rule 2: She is mine and not yours. Remember that.
Day 3 of No Broward loomed ahead of me and I woke up early in nervous anticipation. Knowing full well that I was headed straight to hell, I dressed for success in a navy Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress that hugged my ass perfectly and leather and gold Prada stilettos. I added a chunky gold necklace and put my hair up in a messy bun. Taking extra care with my makeup, I made sure that I looked amazing before trotting out of the house.
7:40am. I slide into my chair, turning on my computer and checking my voicemail. One from Broward.
"Julia - this is Kent. Just checking in to see how things are going. You must have already left for the evening. I sent you a few emails - give me a call if you have any questions. I will be in court all morning tomorrow, so try me in the afternoon if you need me."
I deleted the voicemail and stared at my computer's opening scripts, willing them to hurry. I wanted to take care of Broward's emails first, and then try and finish some of the legal research that I had been putting off. My phone rang.
Ancient Dorothy's voice creaked through the phone. "Julia, you have a delivery. Is it okay if I send it up?"
I checked my watch. 7:45am. Early delivery. "Yes Dorothy, thank you." I assumed it was FedEx bringing an 8am Express package. My computer finally loaded the login screen and I quickly entered my credentials. Scrolling through to my first email from Broward, I heard a light knock at my door.
"Julia?"
A moderately attractive man stood in my doorway, in a grey suit and blue tie. He held a large arrangement of lilies and orchards. I squinted at the man, who looked familiar, and then it hit me. Billy, Ben, NO - Bob. From Monday night. Oh Jesus. This is bad.
"Bob!" I tried to interject some version of pleasure into my voice, but I think I missed the happy tone and ended up with more of a strangled croak.
"I hope it's all right that I stopped by. I remember you saying that you interned here, and I couldn't get through on the number you gave me and I sent you a friend request on Facebook and I stopped by yesterday but you were out…" his rushed speech faltered and I think he realized how desperate he sounded. "I just wanted to stop by and give you these." He took two steps forward and thrust the flowers into my desk space. I had no choice but to take them - the glass vase hung from his outstretched hands like it would slip through at any moment.
"Bob, these are beautiful. Thank you." I buried my face in the arrangement and sniffed, trying to think of what else to say. They WERE beautiful, and from the size of the arrangement, expensive.
"Would you want to go out some time? I know a great Italian place, just around the corner, not a far trek from here."
"I can't Bob. I just got out of a bad relationship, and am just not ready yet." My oldest and most faithful letdown. His face fell but he maintained his smile.
"Hey, I understand. Can I leave you my number though? So when you're ready…? Just in case you lost it before."
I didn't lose it Bob. I tossed it in the trash. Similar to how I denied your friend request.
"Of course. I'll save it. If things change, I'll give you a call."
His pathetic happiness made me wince inside. He came around my desk with his arms out and I stood. Oh great. Bob went for a kiss, but I turned my head and gave him a hug instead. We were pulling out of the hug when De Luca appeared in my doorway.
He leaned against the doorway with his arms folded, filling the entire space with his enormity. He had a dark look in his eyes, and radiated power and masculinity. His gaze went from us, to the large arrangement on my desk, then back to Bob and me. "Am I interrupting something?"
Bob paled. I'd hate to see what would happen if we were dating and I was attacked on the street. He'd probably duck into the nearest Starbucks and order a scone to calm his nerves.
"No. Bob was just leaving. Bob, this is Brad De Luca. He is one of my bosses."
Brad's eyes locked with Bob's, and he moved forward and shook his hand firmly. I think I saw Bob wince. My office seemed ridiculously small at that moment, with Bob, Brad, the ridiculous flowers, and me. Bob squeaked out a hello.
"I need to speak to Julia. If you both are done here."
Bob smiled shyly at me and fled the office. I crossed my arms and stared at Brad stonily.
"What, pray tell, did you need to speak to me about that couldn't wait?"
"Who is he?"
"Bob. He is a --"
"I know who he is. I meant who is he to you?"
Why does this man think he knows everything? "HE is nothing to me."
"Are you dating?"
"Is that any of your business?"
"It is if he is visiting you at work."
"Oh please! Don't even pull that card."
"Are you dating?"
"No."
He studied me, his eyes roaming down my body and up again, and I felt myself flush. The magnetism he put out was ridiculous. This office was way too small for the two of us. Thank God I had dressed up.
"Come to Vegas with me this weekend."
"What?"
I'm going to Vegas this weekend. Why don't you come." It was more a directive than an invitation.
"Are you serious?"
"Dead serious." He looked serious. And tempting.
I smiled. "I appreciate the offer, but I'll have to pass."
"Think it over. I'll have you back safe and sound by Monday."
"I appreciate the offer, but no."
He raised his eyebrows and looked at me appraisingly. "No boyfriend?"
"No."
"Think it over." He gave me a ridiculously sexy parting smile, turned on one heel and sauntered out.
I sank down in my seat. This was way too much excitement for 8:08am. I tried to focus on Broward's first email, still open on my screen.
----------------------------------
From: Kent Broward
Subject: ADMA/Bakers/Turner Development
Date: June 12, 2012 9:27:22 PM EST
To: Julia Campbell
JULIA,
ATTACHED IS INFORMATION FOR 3 NEW S CORPS. THEY NEED CORPORATE DOCUMENTS CREATED.
TWO OF THESE S CORPS - ADMA LLC AND BAKERS INVESTMENTS PROPERTIES WILL BE JV PARTNERS ON A DEVELOPMENT. PLEASE PREPARE AN INITIAL DRAFT OF AN OPERATING AGREEMENT BETWEEN THE TWO. YOU CAN USE THE HENDERSTONE LAND JV OA AS A TEMPLATE.
KB
-----------------------------------
I was both excited and dismayed. Excited that this seemed to be the first real legal work I had been given, dismayed that I didn't have the experience or knowledge to complete it. Also dismayed because I had three other emails from Broward and I wasn't sure what other nuggets of goodness those held.
The next two emails were tame by comparison, menial tasks that I would be able to quickly knock out. The last email was only two lines and gave me at least three new wrinkles.
--------------------------------
From: Kent Broward
Subject: De Luca
Date: June 12, 2012 11:08:03 PM EST
To: Julia Campbell
JULIA,
SHEILA SAID THAT DE LUCA WAS SPEAKING TO YOU IN THE KITCHEN. HAS HE BEEN BOTHERING YOU? PLEASE KEEP YOUR DISTANCE.
KENT
---------------------------------
I groaned silently. Has he been bothering you? Ummm, don't know how to answer that. Ke
ep your distance? Wow. I seem to be following that advice superbly. Note to self: Sheila is a Rat. I marked the email as "Unread" and vowed to reply to him later.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I recruited/begged/bribed Beverly to help with my corporate documents, and stumbled through the operating agreement on my own. I was grinding through the legal research when I glanced at my phone and saw the time. 8:30pm. I was wishing I had brought the last bit of steak back from lunch when Salvation appeared at the door. De Luca stood in the doorway, a pizza and ice cold 6-pack of soda in his hands. I tried not to smile but failed miserably.
"I'm not happy to see you - it's the pizza," I said, pushing back from my desk and rubbing my eyes.
"Come on. I already had Todd scoop out the office - this whole wing has left for the night. Your dangerous secret will be safe. Let's eat in the conference room."
I stretched and stood up. I was barefoot and considered putting on my heels, but then decided against it and padded after him. I yawned.
"Where is Todd?"
"I sent him home once he gave me the lay of the land."
"Does he know you are over here?"
"I don't know or care. Todd is a smart guy, I'm sure he can figure it out."
Great. Just what I need.
"I'll eat with you because I'm starving and not finished with work, but this is the last time I am going to have any type of interaction with you."
"Really."
"Yes, really. Broward is already smelling something, he sent me an email about it today."
"Ahh yes. I got one of those also."
"And?"
"And what? Do I seem the type to follow Broward's directives?"
I shrugged in response. We had entered the West Wing conference room. The fluorescent lights were in the process of warming back up, so the light was still dim. I wrestled two of the Dr Peppers from the 6-pack, placing them on the table. I put the other four cans in the mini-fridge and grabbed a roll of paper towels. Brad sat down and flipped open the pizza box, grabbing two slices and spinning the open box to me. I glanced in. Half pepperoni, half meat lovers. I grabbed a slice of each and sat down, the two of us taking up one corner of the long table. There was silence for a moment as we dug in. He broke the silence first.
"So, this is the last time, huh?"
I nodded in response, my mouth full of pizza.
"You really think you'll be able to stay away from me?"
"Oh my lord!" I groaned and looked to the ceiling in mock exasperation. "Does your ego have no bounds? As I see it - you've been the one who can't stay away." I waved a pizza crust at him to emphasize my point.
"I take an interest in all of our interns. You are the future of our company."
"Bullshit. Are you telling me you are bringing dinner to your favorite intern Woo?"
"I'm not attracted to Woo."
"And you are attracted to me?"
"Of course." He had locked his ridiculously sexy stare on me and spoke softly, but with absolute confidence and conviction. I swallowed. I wanted this man so badly it hurt. Knowing I couldn't have him made it that much more delicious.
"Well, if this is truly our last encounter, we might as well make it count."
"Meaning what?" I squeaked.
"I want to know about you. Let's finish our conversation from lunch. You can ask me anything you want, as long as I have the same privilege."
"I'm not as exciting as you are."
He turned that over in his mind, shaking his head gently as he thought godknowswhat. I started the game.
"I was told you were recently divorced. True?"
"Yes."
"Details?"
He gave me a wry glance, put his hands together on the table, looked down at them, and then at me.
"I have only been married once - to my college sweetheart. We were together 11 years, married for 7 of those. Hillary is a great girl, but we were too different, too incompatible. I think we both realized our mistake early on. But we stayed together and miserable, hoping… I don't know. That something would change. Nothing changed, and we separated."
"Who represented her in the divorce?"
He smiled slightly. "No one. We both did it unrepresented."
"That's a little unfair."
"It would have been if I hadn't given her everything. There is nothing more she could have gotten. I'd say it was extremely fair."
"Why did you give her everything?"
"I've seen divorce pull too many people to shreds. It turns people into horrible things, and gets them to the point where they hate themselves as much as their exes. It happened to my parents, and is one of the reasons I went into this business. I make sure that I am the animal - the horrible one. I don't want them to become that person. This way the couple stays civil and a fair arrangement is made." He shrugged, taking another slice of pizza. "At least that is the plan. It often goes astray."
"I'm not buying the nobility you paint divorce attorneys into."
"Hey - it normally works for chicks at the bar." He grinned, making the statement a joke, but I saw truth in his jest.
"Were you faithful?"
"To Hillary? No. I had an affair that lasted the last year of our marriage. It ended before my divorce, but was the straw that broke the camels back."
"She found out?"
"I didn't make much of an effort to hide it. I think I wanted to get caught, wanted a way out. She overlooked it for a while, until my affair starting leaving her voicemails describing our indiscretions."
"Why?"
"She wanted a relationship. My wife got in the way of that. I tried to break it off, and she got mad. Thought that she might have a chance if Hillary dumped me. Can we discuss something else?"
"Sure. Your turn. Ask away."
"What's the deal with Bob?"
"Bob is a guy I met Monday night at a bar. That's about the extent of the story."
"Did you sleep with him?"
"What?! No!"
"Really." His voice was laced with disbelief.
"Yes, really. I went home with him, but all we did was make out. I took a taxi home afterwards. I'm not a slut - I had just met the guy!"
"Yet you made enough of an impression that he tracked you down at work?"
I looked at him cockily over half a slice of pepperoni. "I guess I make quite an impression." His eyes darkened and he looked so fucking hot I had to look away. Easy Julia.
"How many men have you slept with?"
I swallowed hard, willing the chunk of pepperoni down my throat while my mind raced. I pretended to chew and waved my hand in front of my face, making the "wait a minute" sign. He looked on with amusement, enjoying my discomfort. Damn man. What is the rule with this? I multiply the real number? Or is it divide? Holy hell.
In my panic, I just decided to go with the truth. "Two."
His look was slightly confused, and then sharpened. "Two? How old are you? Did you have a long-term relationship?" His questions came out in a clump, and faster than I was able to answer them.
"Yes, two. I am 21. I was 19 when I lost my virginity, and was engaged to the second guy I slept with. We broke up about six weeks ago."
He nodded slowly, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He missed a big glob of marinara, and it stayed on the corner of his mouth. "Two people huh?"
"Yes. I don't believe in sex without commitment and love." I tried to stay serious, but he looked ridiculous with the red sauce that was beginning to drip down his chin.
"And you loved those two guys?"
"I thought I did. I was young."
"And you are so wise and old now?" He grinned. I handed him a paper towel and indicated the offending area.
"I'm wiser. Still young and vibrant." I said tartly.
"Do you enjoy sex?" The atmosphere in the room changed.
"Of course." And I did. I enjoyed the power and control it gave me.
"Then why would you limit yourself? Why require that love be attached to the act? There is no se
nse in living a dry, sexless existence while you wait the years it could take to find your next "love", in the meantime missing out on some of your peak sexual years! Most people don't truly fall in love. As you admit yourself, your first two loves probably weren't "loves" at all. If you follow that thought process, you will probably just get sexually frustrated and convince yourself that you love someone simply so you will allow yourself to sleep with him, which will only end in an unnecessary long relationship that will end with someone getting hurt." He looked at me in frustration, his pizza forgotten.
Blindfolded Innocence Page 6
