by Abby Brooks
It’s a heady feeling and I don’t know if I love it or hate it.
The bartender, a redhead with big boobs and an even bigger smile, stops in front of me, giving me a chance to regain my composure. “What’ll it be, beautiful?”
I drag my eyes off Frank and glance at his drink. “I’ll have what he’s having.”
“One Jack and Coke, coming right up.” The redhead drops a hand on the bar, then turns to grab a bottle of Jack Daniels from the shelf behind her.
Frank sips at his mostly full drink and then slides it away, turning his attention to me. “Well. You got me out on a Wednesday when my own mother couldn’t. Now what?”
“Now we lean in real close, like this.” I rest an elbow on the bar and fiddle with my hair, bringing my face closer to his. He smells of aftershave and cologne, the faintest whiff of whiskey on his breath.
“Like this?” Frank closes the distance between us, pivoting so his knee brushes mine.
I nod and lick my lips, my gaze darting to his mouth. “Just like that.”
“Now what?”
“Now you ask me a question. I’ll answer and ask one of my own.” I lean back and give him a dubious look. “Have you seriously never done this before? I feel like these are things you should know. This is dating 101, Wilde.”
Frank grins as the bartender slides my drink my way. “Maybe I’m just testing you.” He shrugs and wraps his hand around his glass but doesn’t take a drink.
I narrow my eyes, waiting on his response.
“Right.” Frank shifts and looks away, a smile playing across his face. “I’m supposed to ask you a question.” He pretends to think. “I can’t decide if I should go with ‘What’s your sign?’ or ‘What’s someone like you doing in a place like this?’ Thoughts? Suggestions? I’m feeling a little out of my league here.” He gives me a devilish grin that tells me this is a man who gets my sense of humor, an odd blend of sarcasm and honesty.
“Wow. Maybe I was giving you too much credit when I said these are things you should know by now.” I swirl the straw in my glass, ice clinking merrily, and then take a drink. “Aquarius, by the way. Or actually, I’m on the cusp of both Aquarius and Pisces, which makes for quite the smorgasbord of personality traits. If you believe in that stuff. You?”
“I definitely don’t believe in that stuff.”
“That’s not what I was talking about and you know it.”
“Fine. I’m a Leo. Whatever that means.”
“Isn’t that one of your brothers? Leo?”
Frank lifts a brow and fidgets with his Jack and Coke. “Indeed it is. And here I thought you weren’t paying attention.” He cocks his head, studying me. “You remind me of him, a little.”
“I remind you of your little brother. That sounds…creepy.” I run my finger around the rim of my glass.
“When you put it like that it does.” Frank takes another small sip of his drink, grinning at me as he swallows. “What I mean is, Leo is his own person. He does what he needs to do to make himself happy and has a rebellious streak wider than the Grand Canyon. He lives by his own rules and no one else’s. I’ve always admired that in him. I think I see that in you, too.”
The low murmur of conversation intensifies around us as more and more people take up the empty seats. Frank and I lean closer, talking about everything and nothing. My body riots every time he laughs, a surge of electricity coursing along the surface of my skin, crackling in the air between us. It’s easy to be with him and I find myself staring into those dark eyes, feeling like I’m falling.
The longer we talk, the deeper I go.
The deeper I go, the more I never want it to stop.
I’ll just stare at him and fall, fall, fall, for the rest of forever.
“Did you ever contact McDougan & Kent about that admin position?” Frank breaks into my train of thought as he takes the final sip of his drink. The bartender offers him another and he declines.
I sling my hair over my shoulder and slide my glass her way. I’m always up for one more drink. “Honestly?” I say to Frank. “I chickened out. It feels too much like a real job, you know? I just need something to tide me over while I’m here, not an actual career or anything.”
Frank looks crestfallen. “Well, shit. Here I was, getting my hopes up that I’d have an excuse to see you every day.”
I grin because I can’t help it. “Do we really have to work at the same place for that to be the case?”
“I guess not, though, being serious for a second, I’d like to point out that a paycheck from McDougan & Kent is nothing to sniff at. So, you know, time with me every day. Benefits. A cushy job with a decent paycheck. If you’re gonna get stranded in a strange city and have to find work, it really couldn’t get much better than the one I’m offering, can it?”
“Since we’re being serious, aren’t you worried that me taking the position, knowing I’ll only be there for a short time, will reflect badly on you?”
“Why? Because I talked about a job opening to a woman I met when she crashed her car in front of me?” Frank shrugs. “Nothing to worry about there.”
I promise to think about it and the conversation moves on. When I finish off my second Jack and Coke, Frank sneaks a peek at his watch. “Wow,” I say. “And here I thought we were having a wonderful time…”
He laughs. “Believe me, I am not at all ready for tonight to end. You are so much more than I bargained for. I just have that meeting in the morning and I’m already out way past my bedtime.”
I glance at my phone. “Wow! It’s twelve thirty? When did that happen?”
“That it is. And I think it must have happened somewhere between the awesome company and the fascinating conversation.”
I grin and slide off the stool. “Well, let’s get you home before your coach turns into a pumpkin, Cinderella.” I genuinely feel bad about keeping him out so late, especially knowing he has an important meeting in the morning, but the evening truly flew by.
Frank pays the bill and leads me out of the bar, his hand strong and warm on my lower back. I pause as the door swings shut behind us, a silky breeze moving through my hair. He pushes a strand out of my face and then traces a finger down my arm, his touch leaving a trail of sparks to detonate in its wake.
I tilt my head, my gaze glued to his mouth.
Frank leans in.
I close my eyes and breathe him in.
All he needs to do is kiss me. Run his hands up my body and into my hair. We’ll share a cab back to his place and I’ll show him what it means to live by my own rules.
I lean in to him, press my hips against his, the heat from his body searing my own.
I grip his arms.
And then with the strength of a thousand saints and martyrs, I pull away. “I’ve already kept you out too late,” I say, unable to drag my eyes from his mouth.
Frank swallows hard and then nods. “Good night, Sarah.” His voice is thick and gruff. It rasps through his throat as his eyes hunt mine, heavy with desire. He drags a thumb across my lips and every nerve in my body screams in pleasure. “Let’s do this again sometime.”
And with that, he hails a cab, opens the door, and helps me inside. I give the driver the name of my hotel and spin in my seat to watch Frank watch me drive away, his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes locked on mine.
I wasn’t going to apply for the job at his firm, but that almost-kiss changed my mind. If we have that much chemistry flickering through the air between us, I’d be a fool to walk away from a chance to spend as much time with him as I can. If Frank isn’t worried about me and my temporary status affecting his job, then I won’t worry either.
I mean, really. What’s the worst that can happen?
Frank
I should be exhausted but I’m not. By the time I got home last night, it was nearly one in the morning and I most definitely did not crawl into bed and fall right to sleep. Sarah danced through my mind while I lay awake, replaying each and every detail of t
he evening.
What she said.
What I said in return.
The way the light played in her eyes.
Her easy nature and quick sense of humor, coupled with hints of something much deeper running under the surface.
My alarm goes off and I spring out of bed, practically dancing through my morning. Just in case my energy takes a nosedive, I arm myself with a giant coffee for the morning meeting, but damn, I’m firing on all cylinders today. If there’s a question, I have an answer. If there’s a problem, I have a solution. If there’s a disagreement, I see a peaceful resolution. And through it all, Sarah’s name ticks through my head in time with the second hand on the clock.
Jason catches my attention as we step out of the conference room around noon. “You, my friend, are super human today. Feel like hopping over to my office? I have some problems I’d love you to solve.”
“Nah.” I throw back the last of my coffee. “How will you ever learn to succeed on your own if all I ever do is pick up your slack?” I ask, even though he has no slack to pick up. The man challenges me to be a better version of myself on a daily basis. While I’m good at what I do, he’s better and I always shoot for the top.
Jason falls into step with me as I head toward the elevators. “What has the extra pep in your step today?” He presses the button and leans against the wall. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you picked up a bad habit overnight.”
The elevator doors slide open with a ding, revealing none other than Sarah, standing alone inside, looking sexy as hell in the same little black dress and boots she had on last night, fiddling with the silver leaf dangling from her necklace. Her face brightens when she recognizes me. “Well, hey there, you.”
Jason and I step inside the elevator and I fight the urge to introduce him to my new bad habit. “You know you didn’t have to come in to apply for that admin job, right?”
My question earns me a sharp look from Jason. He knows as well as I do that I can’t handle another kerfuffle with a coworker, but thankfully, he doesn’t call me out on it in front of Sarah. Instead, he steps forward and offers her his hand.
“Jason Lancaster,” he says. “Frank’s better-looking friend.”
Sarah pretends to size him up, letting her gaze run up his body and then down mine. “I’d come up with a witty reply, but I’m not sure I know you well enough to be honest.” She releases his grip with a smile. “Sarah Carmichael,” she says before turning to me. “And I called this morning to inquire about the job and they asked me to come in right away for an interview, smart ass.”
Her response earns me another sideways glance from Jason, but I ignore it. “Well, congratulations, then.” I lean against the wall beside Sarah.
“I don’t have the job, yet. No reason to congratulate me.”
“Eh. Technicalities. You’ll have an offer by the beginning of next week. I’m sure of it.”
“Then I guess my savings account will take yet another hit, unless jeans, bikinis, and semi-slutty dresses count as business casual around here.” Sarah smirks as the elevator shudders to a stop and the door slides open.
Jason pushes off the wall. “And that right there is my cue to leave.” He looks at me, a wide smile smeared across his face and a look in his eyes that says ‘get off the elevator, asshole.’
He’s right. I’d be better off to wish her the best, shake her hand, and resolve to maintain a lukewarm friendship with Sarah while she’s still in town. But what are the chances of whatever this is with Sarah turning into another Violet situation?
For one, Sarah is not Violet.
And for two, Sarah won’t be in Denver long enough to cause a problem.
The odds are in my favor, I know that much.
I fold my arms across my chest. “I’m gonna ride down with Sarah. See ya in a few.” I lift a hand as the doors slide shut. Jason raises a judgmental eyebrow before he disappears from view.
The elevator begins its descent and then lurches crazily. Sarah cries out and places a hand on the wall. “Whoa. That’s…”
The lights flicker.
A grinding sound eats her words.
And…
…we stop.
“Uhh…” Sarah looks to me, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Looks like I should have gotten off with Jason.” I give her my best everything’s going to be okay face, despite my own elevated heartrate.
“I am so glad you didn’t.” She tentatively releases her death grip on the wall. “At least the lights stayed on. Silver lining and all that. What do we do now?” Sarah blows a careful breath past pursed lips.
The honest answer is that I have no idea what to do, but I pretend like I’m the resident expert on stuck elevators. I try the ‘Door Open’ button. When that doesn’t work, I try the ‘Door Closed’ button. Nada. I push one of the buttons for the floor I think we’re closest to, and then, when nothing happens after that, I finally push the ‘Call’ button.
Sarah giggles. “So, basically, you have no idea either.”
“Not really. But that seems to cover all the bases. If nothing happens in the next couple minutes, I’ll call building security on my phone.”
A voice scratches through shitty speakers. “Yes?”
I explain the situation to the disembodied voice, who then promises to have help on the way as soon as possible and apologizes for the inconvenience. “Oh,” the person continues. “And, when I say as soon as possible, I mean you should go ahead and make yourselves as comfortable as you can. These things can take hours. Have a nice day!”
Sarah turns to me with wide eyes, color rising high in her cheeks. Fear tightens her features, but she lets out another long breath and forces a smile. “I’m just chalking up experiences and adventures left and right, aren’t I? First time west. First time in a car accident. First time in Denver. First time stuck in an elevator.”
I appreciate the effort she’s making to stay calm. Her flared nostrils and wild gaze betray how anxious she is, but I don’t let on that I see it. “Wow. I’m almost jealous.” I step closer to her, hoping my presence will soothe her. “Maybe I should try taking off on a random trip without knowing where I’m going someday.”
“If you want to totally renovate your life in less than a month, I say go for it. New job. New city. New clothes. Hell, I might even get a new car out of it.” Sarah laughs and I’d do anything to hear that sound again. Some of her visible anxiety slips away.
We talk about whatever comes to our minds for the better part of an hour. I regale her with stories of growing up on the ranch, getting in trouble with my brothers, and helping Leo out of some pretty tough situations.
“I tried so hard to like growing up on the farm,” Sarah says when I’m done. “You know what? Scratch that. I really didn’t try all that hard. David and Colton, my older brothers, were so good at it and I really hated getting dirty. It drove my dad crazy. I think he would have been happier if he’d had all boys, like you guys.”
The conversation moves on. I learn her favorite show to binge watch on Netflix and she learns I really don’t watch much TV. I discover exactly what in the world it means to be born on the cusp of a sign—her birthday falls during the transition of Aquarius into Pisces, so she has traits of both signs—and she realizes just how much I wasn’t kidding when I told her I couldn’t care less about that kind of stuff.
“Alright,” I say during a lull in conversation. “Tell me one thing that happened to you when you were young that no one else knows about.”
Sarah draws her brows together and a wild look shoots through her eyes. She opens her mouth, then closes it, then opens it again, as if she wants to say something but doesn’t know where to start. It’s not like her to be speechless, so I break the silence, afraid I stepped into a landmine of emotional scars.
“For example, when I was fresh out of high school, my brother Leo put a firecracker in the mailbox. I saw him do it, and the kid was already in trouble for skipping
school, so instead of telling Mom, I thought I’d just get the thing out of the mailbox and toss it in the ditch and no one would be the wiser. Only, the timing was way off and it ended up looking like I was the one who put the thing in there. I got in so much trouble, and my mom kept saying how unlike me it was, but I never told a soul the truth until now.”
“That’s your deepest, darkest secret?” Sarah widens her eyes and shakes her head. “Man. You really are a rebel soul, aren’t you?”
It’s not my deepest, darkest secret. Not by a long shot. But I don’t know her well enough to get into the real stuff. Someday, if she sticks around, we’ll talk about it. But for now we’ll stick with the high level info. “Consider yourself officially in the inner circle of Frank Wilde.”
Sarah smiles, and then drops her gaze as she thinks. I watch her face as she decides what to say. Will she tell me whatever it is that had her so upset just moments ago? Or will she choose to censor herself too?
“So,” she says as she fiddles with the hem of her skirt. “Remember in middle school when people would pass notes around? At my school, they had these really intricate ways to fold the paper and the note would be something silly like, do you like me? Check yes or no. And there’d be actual boxes for people to check.”
So she opted for the high level stuff, too.
I laugh to cover my disappointment. “I think that’s just a mainstay of growing up. It was the same way in my school.”
Sarah rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well, I never got one of those notes. My friends did, but I didn’t and I spent the better part of eighth grade trying to figure out what was wrong with me.”
I’d bet my family’s ranch that Sarah’s friends weren’t as pretty as she was. There isn’t a thirteen-year-old boy alive who would have had the balls to pass a girl like her a note and risk getting shot down.
“I can assure you,” I say. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
