Desire Me

by Kayla C. Oliver

  Not exactly encouraging for a writer, much less one with a deadline looming.

  I leaned back in my chair and groaned. “I’m screwed. Utterly screwed.”

  There was a knock on the door just outside of my little writing corner. My office, studio, whatever you wanted to call it. The place where I created my little worlds.

  I glanced over toward the door and saw Sarah leaning in the doorway. She followed the rules dutifully, keeping her entire body officially outside the room, the threshold of the door untouched. Although I loved and adored her like I might a little sister, she wasn’t exempt from the rules of my workspace.

  No cell phones.

  No TVs.

  And no guests.

  “What’s up?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.

  She shrugged her delicate shoulders. She was a petite thing, kind of willowy, and pretty after you’d been looking at her for a little bit. Sarah was one of those weird girls who was more attractive the longer you saw her. She didn’t grab your attention and drag you into her world. Instead, she invited you in with soft hair that was always pulled up and a long neck that was unadorned, eyes that weren’t outlined by anything but her eyelashes, and lips that were full but almost colorless.

  Pretty, but not pretty in the way that you expected a woman to be pretty. Instead, she was subtly beautiful.

  I promised myself silently that the next female character I needed, it would be Sarah. I hadn’t used her yet, but it was only a matter of time. Eventually, I would need that perfect character, and she fit the bill.

  “I couldn’t help but notice that you were groaning in frustration,” she told me, then sipped at the coffee mug in her hand. I envied her for that damn mug.

  “How do you know it was frustration? Maybe it was orgasm. I could have been masturbating for all you knew.”

  She raised a single, thick eyebrow at me. “Doubtful. Rules state that you cannot have internet in here, nor can you have videos on your computer that might distract you from your work. I daresay big-titted ladies fucking each other counts as distracting.”

  I grinned at her. “Such a dirty mouth. Hardly appropriate for such a pretty lady.”

  She snorted. “Please. I don’t do appropriate unless absolutely necessary.”

  “I don’t do porn unless absolutely necessary.”

  Shaking her head a little, she grinned at me. “Whatever. I just came up here to invite you out on the town.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean a little dancing. Maybe some drinking. Just get out of the house. You’ve been cooped up in here practically banging your own head against the wall in an effort to find some kind of inspiration. I’m beginning to think it’s not all that effective.”

  My mouth pulled down in a frown. Normally, I didn’t like going out partying when I had so much work to do. I was a party animal by nature in a lot of respects, and God knew I loved my women, but I was also a hard worker. The manuscript was part of my profession, and the idea of partying when I hadn’t finished it didn’t sit quite right with me.

  But I also knew that sitting here cooped up all night staring at a blank screen wasn’t doing me a lot of good.

  After mulling it around in my head for a moment, I finally decided to just go for it. “You know what, fuck it. You’re right. I need a break.”

  I would like to say that it was only a need to get my mind off the manuscript that swayed my vote, but the truth was that there was something else weighing heavily on my thoughts.

  Or someone else.

  Courtney hadn’t texted me back. Or returned a single call. Or email. She might as well have just dropped off the face of the planet. I hated that she wasn’t talking to me.

  After we’d fucking connected. I knew we did. That date went phenomenally. And the kiss was spectacular. I knew it was. She felt it, too. She had to. And now… now she was just being stubborn. I knew if I could just get her to answer a damn call, she’d melt and give me another chance.

  Which was maybe why she wasn’t answering her phone.

  “Great!” Sarah’s face lit up, telling me that this wasn’t just a night out for my benefit. Reining in her excitement, she cleared her throat and tried to be casual when she asked, “Do you think Callum might join us tonight?”

  I smiled at her sympathetically. Her painfully obvious crush on Callum had been going on for years, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t try to quell it. Not only had it been a guaranteed never going to happen before, but now he was dating Marnie and it was highly unlikely that he’d leave her for Sarah. Especially since he thought of Sarah much the way I did: like a damn sister.

  “Honey, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  She lifted her shoulders like she didn’t care, but I saw her face fall. “Oh, well. That’s fine. Whatever.”

  I let out a sigh. “Sarah, I think you should probably just let Callum go at this point, don’t you?”

  Her cheeks burned bright red, but she tried to play dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Unless he’s planning on some damn trip, then I really don’t know what you mean.”

  I rolled my eyes and stood. I walked over to her, placing my large hands on either of her shoulders. “Really? That’s how we’re going to play this?”

  She pursed her lips together.

  “And I think planning a trip is possibly the lamest playing ignorant in the history of playing ignorant.”

  She spit her tongue out at me and pouted. “I’m not playing anything.”

  I lifted my eyebrows at her pointedly. “Really. Could have fooled me.”

  “Well, you are easily fooled.”

  “Which doesn’t mean you’re doing a good job at fooling anyone.”

  “Because I’m not trying to fool anyone!”

  I let my hands drop, then shrugged. “Sure. Whatever. Just remember, he’s got a girlfriend now.”

  “Oh, so what? Girlfriends come and go all the time. Casual dating is a thing. You of all people should know that.”

  “My, aren’t we defensive,” I said cheerily.

  She made a frustrated noise in her throat, stomped her foot like a petulant child, then stalked off. “You’re an ass!”

  “You love me!” I called after her.

  She waved a hand at me in acknowledgment, both to let me know that she still thought I was an ass, but also that she did, in fact, love me.

  “Give me ten and we can go!”

  From down the hall, her voice came back and said, “I need at least twenty, so keep your damn pants on.”

  I grinned and shook my head. She was a sweetheart, and she put up with so much. I could only hope that she’d move past Callum and find someone real in her life. Someone who would treat her like the queen she was.

  Until then, I’d just have to do my best to look out for her.

  Chapter Nine

  Courtney

  It was day two of my lounging when I got another phone call. I say another, because I’d been receiving a fair amount of them in the last day and a half. Marnie. Trent. Elizabeth. Even Dorian had called. It was a little insane. Elizabeth was the only one I’d answered. She told me that I was doing the right thing by taking a stand and resisting temptation, which endeared her further to me. The others I’d let go to voicemail. I now had so many messages that the inbox was full.

  I promised that I’d go through the messages later. For now, I was going to enjoy my day.

  Except that it was Marnie calling, and I was feeling shitty after the way we’d left things the previous day. Not that I wanted to sing “Kumbaya, My Lord” and all that, but I wouldn’t have minded making up with my absolute best friend.

  So I made the mistake of answering the damn phone.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m surprised you answered,” Marnie said dryly. Based on the bite in her tone, I was willing to bet she was still angry.

  Well, two could play at that game. “I was bored. It was an eenie-meanie-miney-moe-type game, a
nd your number was the moe. Guess I lost that one.”

  There was a pause, then steel as she spoke again. “I’m calling to inform you that you officially have a nonnegotiable vacation for the next week. Officially, to recoup, but I’m telling you flat out. This is a vacation to get your shit together.”

  Shock went through me. Nonnegotiable vacation? Wasn’t that like a sabbatical? Wasn’t it the type of thing that they made crazy professors take when they were on tenure and couldn’t straight-out fire them? Wasn’t that what police officers got when they were obviously guilty of a crime but the department didn’t want to look bad?

  Was I seriously being shuffled under the damn rug because they didn’t want to deal with me?

  Oh, hell no. “A fucking what?”

  “You heard me,” Marnie replied simply. Her tone was still icy, telling me that on some level she was probably enjoying my anger. Bitch. “Mandatory. Vacay. For you. Starting now. I don’t want to see you back in the office for at least a week, understand?”

  Understand? No, I sure as hell didn’t. “Are you kidding me? Why in the hell am I being made to take a damn break?”

  “Made to? Funny, seems to me you were already taking a break. We’re just making it easier on you.”

  “We?” I demanded. “Who is we?”

  “Dorian and I. We decided.”

  And just like that, I snapped. “Oh, well, that would make fucking sense, wouldn’t it? After all, now you’re in the special partner club. You get the special office and the fancy mugs and the bonuses at Christmastime! Well, you can take your damn partnership and shove it where the sun don’t shine!”

  I wasn’t sure entirely where my anger was coming from, just that it was coming out like pus from an infected sore. Fast and nasty.

  “Goddamn, Court! You get back in the dating saddle and turn into a real fucking mess, you know it?”

  I laughed. “Oh, yeah, I’m the one who went crazy!”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Marnie demanded.

  “It means that you’ve been a real jerk ever since you started dating Callum and became partner. Of course, you wouldn’t have become partner if you hadn’t slept with Callum, so I can see how they go hand in hand.”

  I knew I’d gone too far before the words had finished escaping my mouth, but I couldn’t seem to stop them. They fell like meteors, huge pieces of burning debris hell-bent on destruction. And what could I do about it? Nothing. Head for the hills and watch as the world burned beneath me.

  There was a silence long enough that for a minute, I figured she’d just flat out hung up on me. But that would have probably been a little better. It would have been better about two minutes ago so we could both cool down and I wouldn’t have said some seriously rude, messed-up stuff to my best friend.

  But she hadn’t hung up on me. “Get your shit together, or don’t come back to work.” Her voice wasn’t steely this time, wasn’t hard as rock. Instead it was stiff and almost… neutral. I recognized that tone. It was the one she used when she was so angry she could kill someone.

  And I’d brought it out in her.

  I didn’t get the chance to say anything in response. There was a click on the line, and I knew for sure that she’d hung up on me this time.

  I stared at my phone for a long time wondering just how badly I fucked up. My mind went to the idea of calling her back and apologizing, telling her how out of line I was, how much of a dick I’d been. My fingers hovered over the buttons, ready to dial her back, but before I’d mustered up the courage, there was a knock at the door.

  It startled me bad enough that I dropped my phone. “Shit!” I scooped it up off the floor and was grateful it had landed on the rug, not the tile. The screen was safe, and it hadn’t even popped the battery out. I felt just a little better about life.

  I went to the door and found Elizabeth standing on the other side of it. She smiled broadly and waved at me. “Hey there, stranger. What in the hell are you wearing?” Her greeting turned to horror as her eyes made a quick sweep of my wardrobe.

  It constituted a fuzzy cat sweater and pajama pants with clouds on them.

  I winced. “Sorry. It’s been a lazy kind of day.”

  “Lazy or dead?”

  I shrugged. “At this point? A little bit of both.”

  She waved a hand through the air as though fanning away an offensive odor. I smelled myself discreetly just to make sure that wasn’t actually what she was doing, then stepped aside to let her in.

  “That’s it. Enough moping or whatever this is.” She indicated my sloppy attire. “It’s time to get cleaned up.”

  I frowned. “Why? I officially do not have work. Seriously, mandatory vacation coming my way.”

  Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up high on her head. “What? Are you kidding?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Just found out.” I waved my phone to indicate the call I’d just had with Marnie. Guilt churned my stomach, but I shoved it down.

  “How is that even possible?” she demanded, then a second later held out a hand, palm flat, toward me. “Never mind. I don’t know and I don’t care. Because that’s not why I’m here. I’m here for an intervention?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Vegging is not healthy. You need out of this house and real human interaction. So get dressed. We’re going shopping.”

  ***

  Elizabeth was right. There was something about getting out of the house and going shopping that made a girl feel human again. And I was in desperate need of some human in my life. It helped that Liz took me to my favorite vintage-clothing shop.

  “Seriously, how did you know?”

  Liz grinned. “Simple. I searched the best vintage shops around with the highest-quality stuff and voilà. It’s like magic.”

  “You’re magic,” I told her, sighing happily.

  She laughed at me but looped her arm through mine as we headed inside. It was a little late to be shopping—already after six in the evening—but the little shop was open late to cater to the working women’s crowd. Namely me. I loved the shop because it had dresses that looked like a mixture of serious working women and sexy 1950s pinup model. And they were practically designed for women like me with the large hips and ample bosom.

  Plus, they had really cute shoes.

  “We’re going to try on about a thousand dresses, and then we’re going to look at the shoes. Because, oh my God, shoes.”

  It was my turn to laugh. Liz was a shoe gal first, and everything else came after.

  We split up and agreed to meet back at the dressing room after finding at least three items. It took minutes to meet up again, and we both had a hell of a lot more than three items. I had five dresses, two skirts, a pair of high-waisted hot pants, and two tops that were either going to make great nightclub getups or lingerie. I wasn’t sure which.

  Liz was similarly packing, and we grinned at each other when we met at the dressing room. “Three items? What was I thinking?”

  “Who knows?”

  We basically had the dressing room to ourselves. There were a few other ladies in the store and two employees, but they were spread out. It was one of the reasons I loved this place. People left you alone unless you needed something. They weren’t shoving dresses in your face, they weren’t pressuring you to buy stinky perfumes that you didn’t wear. They just asked if you needed help, then drifted off into the wallpaper. It was awesome.

  We picked out dressing rooms across from each another, leaving the mirrors for the very end, like a runway. There were also mirrors inside the rooms, but it wasn’t the same unless you were walking.

  I tried on a plumb crazy purple dress first. It was skintight with a peplum skirt. Not quite as vintage as I liked, but it fit well and worked well with my curves. It was going to be a maybe, I was sure.

  When I parted the curtain, I saw Liz do the same. She’d picked out a flowy sunflower-yellow color that worked surprisingly well with her golden locks. “What do
you think? Too much yellow brick road?”

  I cracked up with laughter. “Yellow brick road?”

  “Yeah. You know, blonde hair, yellow dress?”

  When I’d stopped laughing, I asked half-seriously, “The Elton John song or the Wizard of Oz?”

  She shrugged. “I’m thinking Elton John, because this is definitely a goodbye yellow brick road.”

  Grinning, I shook my head at her. “You’re crazy. And despite how much yellow it is, I’ll just tell you, it looks pretty awesome on you.”

  She batted her lashes at me prettily. “Why, thank you.”

  We did our obligatory walk down the catwalk and scrutinized ourselves in the mirror. Ultimately, neither dress looked bad, but they were both misses in the end. They would go to the rehanging pile.

  The next dress I tried on was baby blue, and it was awesome. A button-down with a slim waist and a skirt that flared out. As I was putting it on, I called over to Liz. “How have you been doing?”

  She answered with a sigh. “Good, but not great.”

  “What’s the damage?”

  “Ugh. Stepsister from hell.”

  I winced. I’d never had the privilege of meeting Liz’s stepsister, but she sounded like a real piece of work. Total brat. “What’s going on with her now?”

  I could practically feel Liz rolling her eyes. “You name it. She’s so fragile right now. She just hasn’t found her niche yet. You need to be more supportive. She’s your sister.” Her voice was high-pitched and nasally, clearly imitating someone though I couldn’t say who. “As if. Sister my ass. Dad’s second marriage was a total and complete joke. She was a store-bought trophy wife, 100 percent.”

  I had oodles of sympathy for my friend, though I’d never had to deal with something like that before. I was an only child, and while I didn’t talk to my parents as much as I should, they were still together and happy as far as I could tell. They sent me postcards and pictures and were even on the internet, despite having difficulties with all the newfangled technology.

  “I’m sorry, that really sucks,” I told her. “You get a sister and she ends up as the sister from hell.”