“We don’t have a lot of time. I have a flight to catch,” he added.
Determined to muster some dignity, I stood and found my clothes.
“Leave whatever you need me to sign at the front desk. I’ll drop it wherever you need me to so you don’t have to miss your plane.”
Before the end of my sentence, I was dressed, which wasn’t a huge feat considering I’d only been wearing a dress and underwear. The latter I couldn’t find.
I strode to the door after leaving the gold band on the coffee table and didn’t look back at the guy I’d love my entire life.
“Don’t worry. I won’t call.”
I yanked open the door and left behind the past. It was time to look to the future just like he said. A part of me felt different and not just because I’d lost my virginity. Suddenly things felt serious, like I was making the first decision of my womanhood. I would never let another man hold a piece of my soul again.
***
Eddie
I watched as the best thing that could have ever happen to me, walk away. She hated me. I could see it in her eyes. I scrubbed a hand over my face.
What the hell had I been thinking? That I wanted her so damn bad, that’s what. And having her even consider being with another guy had driven me insane.
Though I’d been shitfaced, I’d been determined to have her no matter the cost. At least I had the presence of mind to do the right thing by her. Only, it hadn’t been the right thing, had it? We couldn’t stay married.
I was barely surviving as it was. Between school, studying and working, I had no time for distractions. And Jilly was a damn appealing distraction.
If I was going to be a man worthy of her, I couldn’t ask for a handout from my brother to take care of the woman I loved. Because yes, I loved her. Always had, even when she was cursing me.
One day I’d get her back.
For a second, I thought about how I’d told her to live her life. What if she did just that and ended up living it with someone else.
I blew out a frustrated breath. Then I would just have to get my shit together sooner. Because Jillian Evans was mine. She didn’t know it yet. But I did.
CHAPTER 4
Present Day...
Today had be the shittiest day of my life, beginning with the barista not securing the lid on my Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino. Just as I waited for the party in my mouth to begin, the lid popped off and the party was on my bright white shirt.
I blew out a breath, standing there as the cool liquid dripped down my shirt.
“Here you go.”
The voice belonged to an almost cute but very nerdy guy who’d brought me napkins. And in almost any other scenario, I might have been flattered by the attention, but not today. Not only didn’t he hand the napkins to me, but using the wad, he proprietarily mopped up the excess liquid between my breasts as if he had the right. My jaw dropped.
When he finally realized what he was doing, he muttered a “Sorry,” with his hand still plastered to my chest.
I snatched the wad with my free hand, while shoving his away and glared at him.
“I was just trying to help,” he added.
Dryly, I said, “Thanks.”
Now I was seriously going to be late, and if fate had any mercy, I could slip by my boss’ office and into my cube before she noticed.
“Do you think we can go out sometime?”
I glanced up to see the guy still there. I let out a noisy grunt, tossed my Frappuccino into the nearest trash and pushed through the door. My sour mood only soured more as I fought against the tide of professionals heading into work.
My breaths heaved as I raced through the lobby of my office building to the closing elevator door, shoving my way inside. I so needed to work out. The people around me seemed to clear a ring around me as I gulped in air after a mad dash down two blocks to make it to work. My craving for the Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino might end up being the death of me.
“Morning, Jillian,” the receptionist called out as I stepped off the elevator. I bit back a curse as her friendly greeting was not so much co-worker hospitality. Rather it was an announcement to my boss that I was late, yet again. Albeit only five minutes, Cruella de My Manager ran a tight ship.
I hustled past my boss’ door without looking in and scrambled to my cubical. I was grateful for the high walls that sectioned each tiny workspace off as I trying to catch my breath. It was already crazy hot outside, and besides the massive coffee stain, I had sweat dampening my armpits.
Today had to be the worst day ever. I had to attend a meeting with a potential new client and the big boss. The day I looked a frightful hot mess.
“Jillian.”
The haughtiness for which my name had been said meant it could only be one person.
I turned my head and glanced at my boss over my shoulder. With false cheer, I replied, “Margret. Good morning.”
Her lips pursed. “You realize the importance of the meeting today and you couldn’t bother to be on time,” she said.
“It was only five minutes,” I countered, though I probably should have kept my mouth closed.
“If we can’t trust you to be prompt to work, how can I possibly trust you enough to give you one of our smaller campaigns?”
Smaller. It should have been a bad word, but I’d been working my ass off to be put in change of any client’s marketing campaign, large or small.
“You can,” I said.
Her eyebrow arched. “You weren’t here to give us the presentation materials.”
That had been a test, and according to her look, I’d failed.
“I have them.”
I reached for my bag and pulled out the thumb drive with the media for the meeting. When I turned to hand it to her, her eyes latched on my coffee stained shirt. Then her eyes met mine again.
“And what is this?” she asked. “How do you plan to sit in a meeting like this?” Her nose wrinkled like she smelled something bad.
“I’m going to run across the street and get another shirt,” I said.
Though the idea could be felt in my gut, the only clothing store in several blocks was a boutique that carried clothes that cost more than my paycheck.
This didn’t satisfy her. “You were already late. And now you want to take more time to shop.”
Shopping. Not quite. I held my cool. “I’ll be fast and I won’t take lunch.”
I didn’t mention how many long hours I’d labored at work over the years I’d been there. Even those in the last few weeks.
“This is your last warning.”
I nodded and she walked away. I flipped her off and she said, “I saw that.”
Crazy bitch had eyes in the back of her head. Or she’d been flipped off so many times in her life she’d guess. But time was ticking. The meeting was in less than an hour. I grabbed my purse and ran for the elevator.
I might have jaywalked across the street and had been nearly hit by a Mercedes. The driver called out, but I barely registered, knowing I had no time for apologies on either of our parts.
A woman who barely looked out of her teens and couldn’t be eating more than salad on a daily basis greeted me as I entered.
“Hello, welcome to Le Colour. How can I be of assistance?”
My eyes had drifted over the artfully placed racks of clothes and my heart sank.
“I’m looking for a white top,” I said, meeting her gaze.
Her smile fell. “White?” She said it like it was a dirty word. “We are all about color, can’t you see?”
I had. I felt like I’d stepped into a metallic paint color show.
“Golds and greens are all the rage.”
There was no way I could go to the meeting in anything I could see. They weren’t just bright, but reflective as if they were made of tiny sequins. And maybe they were.
In a small voice as I felt my job slipping away, I said, “You don’t have anything white?”
Her lips flattened before she said, “Follow me.”
We weaved through the displays all the way to a back corner. And there it was, a basic white shirt that would match the navy slacks I’d worn that day.
It wasn’t exactly my style, lots of ribbon detailing that ended in a bow at the hip. But what choice did I have? There was nothing else except psychedelic red. I felt like I’d stepped into a Christmas shop and it was too soon or just passed how ever you wanted to look at it.
“Great,” she said. “I assume you’ll need a large with that bustline.”
I wanted to say something nasty, anything. But she’d spoken with a huge smile. I grabbed the large and medium and went into the dressing room.
I settled on the large, though it was a little loose around the midriff. The medium made my boobs look compressed.
“I’ll take it,” I said, stepping out of the dressing room without taking the shirt off.
Time was precious. We walked to the counter and she removed the tags with scissors she had on hand like she did this a lot.
“Good for you. You look… great.”
I rolled my eyes as she nearly looked bereft to find a compliment. I had my hand out when she announced the price, which was somewhere in the neighborhood of about half of my weekly take home pay. My hand shook as she snatched the card out of my hand. I couldn’t think about how I could possibly afford the silky blouse I didn’t even like.
“Do you need a bag?”
She looked to my hand that held my wadded up shirt. I should probably toss it, but said, “Yes.”
Hell, at the price I was paying, I deserved the bag.
After the transaction was done, I ran back across the street, dodging honking cars.
I’d exited the elevator and ignored the receptionist who tried to flag me down. I didn’t have time. I had to go to the bathroom to fix my hair and makeup in time for the meeting.
Before I got to my cubical to grab my makeup bag, I saw him.
“Jillian,” he said.
My name on his tongue, and oh what a tongue he had, did things to clench my core with need.
“Edward,” I said, using his full name, which he hated, and strode by him to get to my cube so I could gather my wits.
CHAPTER 5
Edward McCabe was breathtaking. Even sporting a grizzly man beard as he was, I had an undeniable attraction to him. He was tall, dark, and extremely handsome and could nearly make me come just by saying my name.
His scowl was dangerous, which unfortunately for me only turned me on more, and I didn’t have time.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?” I said, with my back to him.
There was no way I could let him even notice a hint of my hurt. I sighed when I found my makeup bag and hairbrush. I tucked them into my tote, ready to stride to the ladies’ room, when he blocked the opening of my cube.
I came to a stop inches away. My cubical was made for one. Two was a crowd.
“Look, I’m not sure why you’re here, but I have a meeting to get to.”
“This.” He held out a paper. It was gone so quickly. As his arm dropped, I had only been able to read the State of Nevada boldly written at the top.
I met his eyes. “What does this have to do with me?” I asked, my annoyance at his domination of my workspace beginning to show.
“Everything,” he all but growled.
“I get Chris is gone, but I can’t talk you through whatever problem you have right now.” My sister was in New York with her new husband, who was Eddie’s older brother. “I’m not sure why you can’t talk to your wife, but can we do this later?”
I tried to sidestep him, but he was like an immoveable boulder.
“No, I cannot do this later,” he practically yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls and any office noise instantly quieted.
He too sensed we now had an audience and leaned in the few inches to my face and said, “Besides, I am talking to my wife and the State of Nevada frowns on bigamy.”
That caught my attention and stole all the air from my lungs.
“Wife?” I repeated.
“Yes. Apparently, someone didn’t turn in the annulment papers.”
I may have struggled for words a second ago, but I had them back then. “I did.”
At the time, Eddie had still been in school, and between us, neither had the money to pay a lawyer to help us annul the marriage. Eddie had done the research himself to fill out the forms necessary to void our ill-conceived marriage after a night of debauchery.
“State of Nevada says otherwise,” he countered as if suggesting I was a liar.
His voice had risen again as his anger grew, but so did mine.
“I did. And if they misfiled it, that’s on them not me.”
“Well, I’m facing four years in prison. Do you have proof or a copy?”
I didn’t.
“A copy? Why is this on us?”
“It’s not, sweetheart. It’s on me and I don’t fancy going to jail. So sign this.”
He produced another document at me.
“I can’t sign this now.”
Outside of the fact I was so going to be late, I needed to know what I was signing.
“Now,” he sneered.
I straightened. “Would you advise any of your clients to blindly sign anything?”
He blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine. Read it and sign it asap and that doesn’t mean five days from now.”
Then he stomped off past a cluster of people. Margret whispered something to her assistant and the group was lead off in the direction of the large conference room.
Shit.
When she reached my cubical, I ran on at the mouth. “I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”
She laughed like she was cool and I expelled a relief breath.
“You’re right. It won’t happen again because you’re fired.”
“Wait. What?” I asked, hoping I hadn’t heard her correctly.
“Gather your things and leave the building immediately. Security will be up to show you out.”
She spun on her heels and left in much the same fashion as Eddie had.
This was so not happening.
I fought back tears as I began to gather the few personal things I’d left in my space. Security arrived with a bankers box and I went to work with what dignity I had left, packing up the little things I’d accumulated to make my home away from home feel like my space.
Then my mind drifted to how I was going to pay my student loans and the little credit card debt for the Christmas splurge I’d done for Mom I was still paying off. Not to mention the pricy top I wore that hadn’t saved my job.
That’s when I recalled I wasn’t the only one responsible for my dismissal. No, that honor belonged to a man I’d craved for as long as I remembered.
I lifted my chin for the walk of shame and prayed I didn’t trip. What could be worse than walking past my co-workers who witnessed my firing and then ending up sprawled over the floor with my Mrs. Thor Ragnarök framed picture with my face photoshopped over Natalie Portman’s? It spelled complete loser.
Gratefully, I didn’t and the sidewalks outside weren’t jammed with commuters. I made it to the parking garage the next block over with minimal embarrassment.
Okay, there was that kid with his mother who loudly proclaimed, “Mommy, Mommy, why does she have a box of things. Is she a bag lady?”
Homeless wasn’t a far cry for where I was headed. Although my sister’s husband, Cameron, the NFL’s leading quarterback, had paid our rent for the next three months, through the end of the lease, I should have been saving for a new place in the rising market of the area. Now, I was saving nothing. I’d likely end up moving back home with Mom.
That thought had me gripping the steering wheel as I drove to the McCabe law offices, the mini empire Eddie had built in only a few short years. It helped that his brother recommended him to his teammates. Eddie had started something new. His office not only
included lawyers, but sports agents and financial analysts as a one-stop shop for players with newfound wealth.
I parked my car in the pricy lot of the new building and rode the elevators up. Unlike my former office, the receptionist was so busy, she didn’t greet me. In fact, I had to wait in line.
When my turn came, I said, “I’m here to see Edward McCabe.”
Her eyes shifted over the open concept office with minimalist furniture and wide views of downtown Dallas. Cubicals were nonexistent. Workstations with very short walls just to define space covered the open areas. All the office walls were made of glass, so I spotted Eddie in a corner with a headset on.
“He’s talking on the phone. Can I get your name?”
“I’ll wait,” I said instead, not wanting to be announced.
Two could play the same game, as he’d shown up at my now former workplace without warning.
She didn’t have time to argue because a delivery person was behind me. When he moved in, I stepped aside and watched as someone else stepped off the elevator and waited for her attention.
It was then I made my move. Eddie was facing the windows looking out as I walked casually but swiftly in that direction.
There was an empty desk in front of his office that was outfitted with a computer and desk phone, though it didn’t appear occupied. When Eddie started to turn, I sat in the chair behind the desk like the music had gone off in musical chairs. I wasn’t sure why I was hiding. Then again, I wanted the moment to be mine when I gave him shit about getting me fired.
Then the phone rang and I glanced at it and then up toward the reception area. The poor woman looked frazzled like it wasn’t every day she saw that amount of revolving door activity. Feeling bad for her, I picked up the phone.
“Edward McCabe’s office.” I assumed with the placement of the desk, it was meant for his assistant.
A gruff voice began to speak.
I cut in. “Mr. McCabe is not available at the moment. May I take a message?”
That was a dumb move, because the computer wasn’t on and the desk was empty except for a useless keyboard and mouse.
“Please hold a second,” I said and reached in drawers until I came up with a legal pad of paper and pen.
Blackout: A Romance Anthology Page 43
