Hunter Carlisle: Will you be home in about an hour?
My hands hovered over the keys. I stared at the message suspiciously. Before I could reply, Hunter pinged me again.
Hunter Carlisle: Mr. Ramous will be dropping something off.
Olivia Jonston: I should be. I can go grocery shopping later.
Hunter Carlisle: I will let him know to make it his priority. He’ll text or call when he gets there. Have a nice afternoon.
My hands continued to hover. Two things seemed strange. One, why did Bert have a package for me? What had I forgotten? And two, why was Hunter being cordial over IM when he’d been so standoffish in person?
I wondered if he felt bad. That maybe my reaction had shocked some feelings into him.
“Fat chance.” I signed off IM and out of email. I didn’t want any more communication from him. Not for the rest of the weekend. My crazy didn’t play well with his.
In an hour I was engrossed in a book on the couch when the door buzzed. Knowing it was Bert, because Jane wasn’t home, I bounced off the couch and pushed the intercom button. “Hello?”
“It’s me, Bert. I have something for ya.”
“I’ll be right down.”
“I’ll bring it up—it’s too much for you to carry.”
I smiled. “Okay. Level two. I’ll wait by the stairs.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I pushed the button to admit him. Walking out to the landing, I heard the door close a level down and heard the heavy footsteps of what must be Bert’s giant girth plodding up the stairs. I backed up as he reached the top. In his hand was a huge bag with the Apple logo.
“Whatcha got there?” I asked, leading him to the door and then clearing out of the way so he could enter my small apartment.
“I told ya Mr. Carlisle looks after his employees. It appears you need a computer.” Bert put the bag on the coffee table. “Mr. Carlisle called in the order. I just picked it up. Open it up, let’s see what he got ya.”
With a furrowed brow, I walked around him and pulled open the bag. A box displaying the same insignia as the bag looked up at me. Beside it were other, smaller boxes.
I pulled out the large box and gasped at a brand-new MacBook Pro. “He bought me a computer?”
“And what’s this?” Bert pulled out a smaller box with a big crater of a smile on his face.
The image of an iPad graced the front of the box.
“And this.” Bert pulled out a mouse and additional keyboard next, both Bluetooth, and studied them with a shaking head. “I don’t know why he got you another keyboard. You have one with the laptop.”
“If I set it up with a monitor, probably,” I said as my eyes rounded. “He went crazy.”
Bert showed me a new phone, then a pair of headphones before setting everything down with a smirk. “Mr. Carlisle shows you your value, he doesn’t tell you. See what I mean? He’s a good guy if you don’t let the rudeness bother you.”
“In other words, he’s a dick, but a generous one.”
Bert laughed as he backed toward the door. “You said it, not me.” Still chuckling, he kept backing up until he was in the hallway. “Do you need anything else?”
“Like what, a desk to go with all this?”
Bert bowed his head. “Maybe ask him for that next week, Livy. My back is killing me and he’d probably get a solid wood one. I don’t fancy carrying it up the stairs.”
I laughed and bounded toward the door. “I don’t have anywhere to put a desk, don’t worry.”
“Probably for the best.” He started off down the hallway. “See ya Monday.”
“Bye.”
I shut the door and just leaned against it for a second, staring at the array of equipment littering my coffee table. I could not believe he’d bought all that for me. Without asking, or making a big show of it, he just got everything he thought I would possibly need, and left it at that. If I never said thank you, he probably wouldn’t even notice.
“Unreal,” I said, starting back over. It didn’t heal us, this unexpected generosity, but it certainly made me feel a little less low. A little less insecure. Because no way would any of my ex-boyfriends ever do it, and the last couple had the money to.
I packed it all up with care and moved back to my room like a rat with a rare morsel of fresh cheese. Before I ripped into all the packaging and started playing, I logged on to the work computer and the instant message.
Olivia Jonston: *speechless* Thank you so much!!! I shouldn’t accept it.
I waited, staring at the computer. There was no sign he was typing.
I glanced at the clock—a little past four. He’d still be there, I had no doubt. Maybe getting coffee.
I tapped my fingers, glancing over at the big, pretty white bag. I took out the computer again, and then the iPad. I gazed at them with hungry eyes, but didn’t open the boxes. I really shouldn’t accept them—that had been a true statement. He didn’t owe me any of this—he was paying me a wage to work; that was enough. Plus, I had my work computer; I had all I needed.
I pulled my lips to the side as I debated, hearing the familiar ping.
Hunter Carlisle: I got top of the line—I didn’t know what you were into. You can exchange what you don’t want/need. If you want another brand, let me know and I can get a refund.
Hunter Carlisle: And you will accept it. I bet you are staring at it right now, waiting for my go-ahead. Enjoy. I would’ve gotten you a monitor, but I didn’t know your size constraints.
I squealed in delight.
Olivia Jonston: This is perfect. Too much. And I don’t have anywhere to put a monitor. (I don’t have a desk)
Hunter Carlisle: We’ll amend that when you have more space. Have a good evening.
Olivia Jonston: Thank you again!!!
I didn’t wait to see if he was typing. I turned with ravenous fingers and tore into the packaging on everything. I wanted to feel it. I lost the rest of the day to my new devices, and eventually ordered in pizza. Grocery shopping could wait.
* * *
“Yay, you came!” Kimberly sauntered toward me in a cute little red dress with black stockings. Her hair bounced over her shoulder in a tumble of curls. She gave me a firm hug and then dragged me toward everyone else.
They’d chosen an upscale tavern that served oysters and clever creations for nibbles. The floor and tabletops weren’t just clean, they were shining in the mid-level light from recessed bulbs. Prices were high, though Kimberly’s friends probably didn’t notice, and drinks were decent.
Four people congregated in the back around a large, round table. Each already had a drink in front of them with two spots empty. What must’ve been Kimberly’s drink waited in front of one.
“Hi, Livy!” one of the girls, Tera, said with a big grin as I walked up. Her curly hair was pulled back from her face with barrettes. She wasn’t usually this excited to see me. Or anyone.
“Hi.” I hesitated before sitting down. “Do I need to order a drink at the bar?”
“No, someone comes around.” A guy named Jett absently waved toward the bar. The shock of freckles across his nose and cheeks stood out against the pale of his skin.
I sat at the same time Kimberly did. She plunked her phone on the table and sipped her drink.
“I’ll just say it—how did you get a job with Hunter Carlisle?” Jen, a girl in her early thirties, asked with shock on her face. She was the oldest in the group, but had graduated at the same time as Kimberly and Jett, having spent some time after high school abroad with various charities.
I glanced at Kimberly and got a slight shake of the head. These people weren’t in the know about the personal side of things, thank God.
I shrugged as all eyes found their way to me. “I applied, like I have to a million places, and he didn’t kick me out simply because I have zero experience. I’m just an admin, though. I’m not in my field.”
“So?” Tera exclaimed, leaning forward on the table. “It’s Hunter Car
lisle! The man is a god in business. I’d do anything to get that position.”
“Including him. He is h-o-t!” Jen fanned herself.
Rick, a man with messy brown hair, a full beard, and far more money than sense, rolled his eyes. “Is that why you dumped me? You like pretty guys half your age?”
“He’s a couple of years older than you,” Jen said. “And I dumped you because you were afraid of the shower.”
Rick’s even white teeth showed through his mat of beard. “Touché.”
The waitress stopped by with a smile and looked at me with eyebrows raised. “Can I get you something?”
“Yes, could I have a mojito, please?” I asked.
“Get her two, and another round for all of us—she’s behind,” Rick said, making a circle in the air with his pointer finger.
“And a round of tequila!” Tera exclaimed. “Olivia finally has a job—we have to celebrate.”
“No way.” I waved my hands at the waitress. “No shots.”
“Shots.” Tera overrode my complaint with an exaggerated head bob.
“Definitely shots,” Kimberly added.
“Whose side are you on?” I demanded of Kimberly.
“Yup, shots.” Rick gave a thumbs-up as the waitress moved away.
“It’s early, you’ll be fine,” Kimberly said with an evil grin.
“Now.” Tera stared at me across the table. “Tell me everything about Hunter Carlisle. I have been stalking that man forever.”
“No, don’t, Livy,” Jett said as he grabbed a cracker and loaded it with cheese. “Make her sweat.”
“It’s not like more information would help,” Jen said. “Carlisle doesn’t make friends.”
“I don’t need to be his friend, but I’d love to see the inside of his bedroom.” Tera’s eyes sparkled.
“Can we change the subject, please?” Rick asked with a groan. “This is really putting me off.”
My drink came and went. The shots came and went. More drinks filled their place. Usually I was able to control my alcohol intake by ordering for myself. Not so this time. When the waitress came around, Rick or Tera took over ordering for everyone, Tera because she thought I should be celebrating the job of the century, and Rick because he didn’t do any sort of meaningful job for his father, and mostly just partied. He was ecstatic for any excuse to go wild.
A few times I tried to decline the next round, not because I was concerned about money as I usually was, but because I was on a short ride to Drunk-ville. I didn’t drink as often as the others, and didn’t have their tolerance. The thing that made me complacent, though, was that for the first time, I was included. I was treated as an insider. I was no longer Kimberly’s unfortunate friend that also graduated from their school—I was one of the crowd. It felt good to be accepted for once.
Toward the end of the night, when I should’ve been sober and asleep, my phone swam into my vision. I blinked one eye closed so I could properly see the numbers, and groaned. After ten o’clock. “I gotta go.”
I stepped away from the bar and bumped into Kimberly. She giggled.
“I gotta go,” I repeated. “Isss ten o’clock. Too late.”
“Oh my God, Livia!” Kimberly clamped a hand down on my arm and leaned closer. Her face glanced off my ear. “Ow!” She stumbled backward, rubbing her nose. “Oliv-a.” She pointed toward the door.
I swayed as I swung my head too fast. “Why did you make me do shots?” I asked the room in general.
Blurred people, fuzzy and multicolored, tilted in my line of sight. I blinked a couple times and then widened my eyes, hoping that might help my sight.
It didn’t.
“What?” I asked, leaning heavily against the bar.
“That asshole is here,” Kimberly spat, looking around wildly. “Where’s Rick? Rick’ll get rid of him.” Kimberly staggered away, leaving me blinking down at my glass of water. I upended the glass in my mouth, belatedly feeling the cold liquid dribble down my chin and onto my chest, soaking one of the blouses I was supposed to reserve for work.
“Least it’s just water,” I said, swaying backward as I tried to look down at my chest. I groped for the bar and pulled myself back in. “I gotta go. Bad idea. This was a bad idea.”
“Olivia.” The voice tickled me in places I remembered vividly.
Chapter Ten
I swayed toward him, quickly caught in his arms. I glanced up into the face of Jonathan, the ex who tore my heart out and broke it apart like a wishbone.
“What’re you doing here?” With water dribbled all down my front, and my makeup probably all over my face, I wasn’t showing him what he was missing.
He showered me with that smile I remembered so fondly, fluttering a deep well of emotion.
“I loved you,” I blurted, falling into his embrace. “Why did you do…that-to-me.” With my finger I made a motion like a spinning turbine. “Pre-tend I…am talking-at-normal speed.”
His carefree laugh made me sigh. Those handsome features captured me. I’d stared at his face for hours, making love, cuddling, and laughing. We had our hard times, but on average, he’d made me happy.
“Why’re you here?” I leaned forward and braced my forehead on his chest.
“Because I heard you were here, and thought you needed a ride home. Or would you rather go to my place?” He tilted my face up and leaned down until his lips glanced off mine. “I thought maybe we could start things up again. I shouldn’t have let you go.”
“Oh no, bro?” Rick stepped up beside us. I felt his hand grab my upper arm and pull me away. “What happened to Crystal?”
“This doesn’t concern you, bro,” Jonathan said in icy tones.
Kimberly put an arm around my shoulders, staring at Jonathan. “You didn’t give a shit before she got a job with Carlisle.” Kimberly jabbed a finger at him. “You’re just trying to use her, you heartless bastard.”
“Oh, spare me.” Jonathan’s gaze came to rest on mine. “Why don’t I take you home. We can talk.”
“I gotta go,” I muttered, shrugging out of Kimberly’s grip and ambling away.
“Wait—” Jonathan started.
“Don’t even think about it,” Rick said.
“What are you going to do, bro?” I heard, but I wasn’t turning around to watch a male pissing contest. I had to get out of there.
I stumbled outside. The chill of the night draped around me. The temperature revived me a little, but soon it would make me shiver.
I lurched to a stop and made a U-turn. The closed door stared at me. If it could, it would’ve quirked an eyebrow, I was sure. “Are you sure you want to go through here?” it would ask.
And it had a point. Jonathan was through there. “He’ll seduce me.” That was bad.
I brought up my phone, which had stayed clutched in my hand somehow, and felt the weight of my handbag on my other arm. I glanced down to make sure, staggering forward with the shift in weight.
Yes, that was my handbag.
“Lucky,” I announced. A couple passing by glanced at me. I staggered backward to get out of the way.
The bus was out of the question. I was in bad shape. Very dangerous.
“Cab.” Stop announcing things out loud!
I brought my phone up again and closed an eye, willing the image to solidify into one object. The glow of the screen made me squint as I brought up my contacts list and tried to scroll with a clumsy finger.
I hated this, being drunk. Buzzed was one thing. Even bent toward inebriated I could handle. But full-blown incoherence was no fun.
Too late now.
The screen lit up with a name. “Oh shit.” I stabbed at the red rectangle and missed. The image changed again—call connected. I couldn’t hang up now or I’d be a crank caller.
“Hello?” I asked as the phone neared my ear.
“Olivia?”
I leaned against the wall. “Yeah—sorry. Didn’t mean call you.” I pulled the phone away and squinted at the screen
again, making out a blurry “Bert” as the title name.
“Oh shit—sorry, Bert! You don’t even know me and I’m an asshole. Sorry! Accident.” Someone else came out of the bar. I shuffled further over, regardless if it was helpful or not. “’Kay, bye.”
“Do you need a ride?” I heard.
“No, ’m good. Under control, Bert my man. Under control. See ya!” I pulled the phone away and stabbed again, this time ending the call.
“Well, that was embarrassing.” I winced again. “Shhh! God, I am drunk.”
“Let me take you home.”
I meant to groan, but I think I moaned instead. I closed my eyes as the familiar hand wrapped around my middle. Familiar lips, warm and soft, tickled my neck before landing on my lips. I fell into the kiss—literally. Off balance and out of my head, I threw an arm around his shoulders and face-dived into him. His tongue entered my mouth and I let it, wanting to feel how I had felt with him in the height of my happiness. Wanting that safety and comfort again, especially with all the turmoil I was going through at work.
“I’ll take you home, Livy.” I let him half lead, half carry me down the sidewalk. My phone vibrated in my hand. I tried to see who it was, but it was trapped in the hand around Jonathan’s shoulders. He looked at the screen as it neared his eyes before I gave up trying to see and slumped back against him.
“Is that Hunter Carlisle? Do you know any other Hunters?” Jonathan asked as he slowed. He stepped to the right and braced me against the wall with his shoulder as he tugged the phone out of my hand.
“No! I need to hold on to that, or I will lose it.”
“Hello, sir, this is—”
I bent forward to see that Jonathan had taken the call.
“No, hang up, that’s my boss!” I reached for the phone, but Jonathan pushed my hand away and half turned to cut me off.
“No, sir, she’s right here. I was just going to take her home—she’s had a bit too much to drink.”
Please (Please #1) Page 10
