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Write On Press Presents: The Ultimate Collection of Original Short Fiction, Volume II

Page 42

by Write On Press


  ~*~

  “One, two, three ...” Jesse grunted as the sweat dripped into her eyes. Grabbing a towel she quickly wiped her face and resumed the rhythmic punching. Grimly she imagined Nick Armstrong’s face in place of the punching bag. Viciously she dealt him a one, two straight to the face. Feeling better, she slowed down rolling her tight shoulders to release any tension.

  Her workout was basically done. A few stretches and she could head home. Tonight was the night of the fundraiser. God, she hated social functions. She had never been good at them.

  She could still hear Wayne’s voice complaining that she hadn’t worked the room well enough. Christ Jesse, how hard could it be to circulate and flirt a little? For me. You’d think you would want me to network. Oh, she knew how to work a room alright. She was, after all, Senator Robert’s daughter. But ever since that night of the charity auction, that night she met Nick, and the next morning when her parents informed her that she was, after all, going on the cruise with them, she had rebelled.

  She had to laugh at herself. For all these years she had clung to a memory of perfect romance, pissed beyond measure that she hadn’t been able to complete her damn bucket list—with Nick. Who now hated her.

  Bucket list. The one that still had kiss Nick again on it.

  Whoa. She hadn’t thought of that bucket list in years. Now, it seemed that every time she turned around it was popping in her head. Time to rip it up and write a new one. An adult one that did not include Nick Armstrong.

  She was going to have to accept that her obsession with the Nick of yesteryear was a fantasy and the reality was that it had been nothing more than teenage hormones that never had to be tested by ...well...reality.

  Which meant that maybe her parents and Wayne might just be right in their belief that life was better lived with both feet firmly planted in said reality with no room for much passion, and certainly no room for silly bucket lists and crazy thrills that made your blood pound and your heart sing.

  And wasn’t that a depressing thought?

  It had been a long week and she was glad it was Friday. Her parents had come to dinner Tuesday evening. That had been a mixed bag of goods.

  Jesse felt her father’s disappointment acutely. It wasn’t what he said. It was what he didn’t say. That combined with his offer to put in a word at University Hospital had put her on edge. As if she was at the clinic by accident or ignorance.

  Her mother had hastened to explain how important the work being done at University Hospital was, going on and on about how much a difference she could make at the main hospital versus that small clinic she had chosen to work at.

  She knew they didn’t understand her urge to work in the inner city. They probably never would. She sighed. Then her mother had dropped the bomb that Wayne was asking about her. His marriage had failed—big surprise.

  She suspected her mother was hoping that Jesse would reconcile with Wayne. He was now city manager and was heading towards a promising political career. Whoopee, another big surprise. Yawn.

  She forgave her mother for the thought because she knew it came from wanting a happy ending for her daughter. As if she could ever be happy with a lying, cheating man.

  At least her parents looked healthy. The stroke had been a mild one. Her father hovered over her mother more than Jesse remembered, and her mother touched her father more often. A hand on his shoulder, a brief touch to the face, as if reminding herself she was still with him. Those little things made Jesse glad she was home.

  As she concentrated on her breathing going deeper into her stretching, her thoughts returned to Nick. It wasn’t as if he was being rude to her anymore. He was just avoiding her like the plague. They had worked together Tuesday and he had been professional and very polite.

  Well, maybe he wasn’t avoiding her, but that’s what it felt like. She’d see him having a discussion with someone, a warm smile on his lips, and then he’d catch sight of her; the smile would disappear and so would he.

  She wondered if she was being too sensitive, but she didn’t think so. It seemed obvious to her that he flat out didn’t like her. She quickly stifled the flare of disappointment and hurt. She was going to have to toughen up where he was concerned.

  The thing she didn’t know and couldn’t predict was how his dislike was going to impact their working relationship. Could he treat her fairly despite his dislike? She doubted it. And why would a man who otherwise seemed intelligent and fair-minded judge her so harshly?

  He was intelligent, and strong, and so damn vital he dominated any space he entered. Other men paled next to him.

  Jesse could tell that the other women that worked at the clinic looked at him with appreciation, but she hadn’t seen any inappropriate flirting. They all seemed to have a very real respect for him. She didn’t think anyone had the hots for him. Which she didn’t—have the hots for him. Okay, so she was such a liar.

  Of course, most of them hadn’t had his tongue in their mouth. Or had they? That thought made her feel slightly sick.

  Really, she knew nothing about Dr. Nick Armstrong, beyond the fact that her traitorous body responded to him with no reserve—instantly. All he had to do was enter a room and she was caught in an awareness that had every nerve in her body on high alert. What did that make her? And what about her belief that sex and love went hand in hand. There was no love involved in her attraction to him.

  She did know something about him, she corrected herself. She knew three things without a doubt. He had taken a dislike to her. Also, for some reason she responded to him regardless of that dislike. And finally, she knew without a doubt if he ever found out about the power he had over her, she was in deep trouble.

 

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