“Oh, I almost forgot,” Elle said in a bubbly voice. “My boss was so pleased with the Fielding interview that he gave me tickets to the new Brian Stokes Mitchell musical. Would you like to go with me? All of the reviews have been glowing.”
Ben hesitated. Musicals and plays really weren’t his thing, but he knew how much Elle adored the theatre. The one and only time he’d accompanied her to a play he had felt like an unschooled idiot, not understanding half of what was going on, and he’d struggled desperately not to yawn in boredom.
“Uh, sure,” he found himself agreeing automatically, aware that she was gazing at him expectantly. “When is it exactly?” He pulled out his phone and scrolled to the calendar function.
“A week from Thursday. I thought we could catch an early dinner first,” she ventured.
Ben forced himself to sound regretful as he shook his head, though in truth he was silently relieved to notice the entry on his calendar. “I’m sorry, Elle, but I can’t make it. I fly out this Sunday to Russia and won’t be back until the following weekend.”
“Oh. Drat.” Elle looked crestfallen. “I wouldn’t have thought they’d send you out again so soon, given that you just returned from Antigua.”
He shrugged. “I’ve been home for a week, and still have five more days until I leave again. That’s a pretty standard timeframe in between trips. Plus, there’s been something of a rush lately to get as much traveling done as possible before the winter months.”
She nodded. “I get it. Maybe some other time, then.”
Elle continued to look so disappointed that he felt compelled to offer, “Hey, why don’t we try and get together this Friday? One of my co-workers offered me tickets to the Knicks game. It’s still officially pre-season but it should be a good game anyway.”
She wrinkled her nose in that odd little way she occasionally did. “What is that – baseball?”
He smiled indulgently. “Basketball. And I’m guessing you aren’t a big sports fan.”
Unwillingly, he recalled that Lauren had been an avid sports enthusiast. Baseball had been in full swing during his time in Big Sur, and she’d been glued to the TV each time her beloved San Francisco Giants had played. When she’d learned that Ben was a lifelong Cincinnati Red fan, she had ribbed him unmercifully, especially when the two teams happened to play each other. She’d made him a bet on the outcome of the game, and he had to stifle a groan as he recalled the terms.
“Tell you what, Blue Eyes,” she’d drawled in that lazy, seductive voice that had never failed to turn him on. “If my team wins, then I get to be on top tonight. And if your boys somehow manage to steal the victory, then I’ll let you be on top.”
He’d chuckled, pulling her into his arms and nuzzling her neck. “So in other words, no matter what team wins tonight, I can’t lose.”
Elle gave a brief shake of her elegantly coiffed head. “Especially not of American sports. I do enjoy watching tennis and golf, and occasionally European football. But otherwise it’s not really my thing.”
“Okay,” he conceded, taking pity on her. “So no Knicks game. We could catch a movie instead, I suppose.” He kept his fingers crossed that she wouldn’t suggest seeing one of the foreign or art house films she loved. He already knew she despised the type of action/adventure or suspense movies that he favored – the very sort that Lauren had adored.
‘Jesus,’ he thought angrily. ‘Why does everything always come full circle back to her?’
Fortunately, Elle suggested a comedy that they could both agree on, and they arranged a time to meet for a quick dinner beforehand.
She had an appointment after lunch, and so they bid each other farewell outside of the restaurant. Ben ignored the hopeful look in her eye, knowing that she’d eagerly welcome a kiss on the cheek or a hug good-bye, and merely gave her hand a light squeeze instead.
As he walked briskly back to his office, turning up his jacket collar against the chilly autumn air, Ben resolved to make sure he continued to treat Elle strictly as a friend. The last thing he wanted to do was give her any sort of encouragement, to lead her on in any way – even unintentionally. He had to make sure she was always aware that their friendship would never progress beyond this point. At least not as long as a feisty little seductress continued to hold his heart captive.
***
February
Ben followed Elle through the spacious, high-ceilinged rooms of the brownstone gingerly, half-afraid he’d knock over one of the undoubtedly priceless sculptures, vases, or figurines that seemed to cover every marble-topped table in the place. And even though Elle had assured him that he didn’t need to leave his boots at the front door, he was still doubtful on that score as she continued to give him the grand tour.
He’d never been inside her home until now, though he’d shared cab rides with her before and had seen the exterior of the place. He should have expected Elle’s home – technically, her parents’ home – to be as posh and elegant as the woman herself, but nothing could have truly prepared him for the intimidating grandeur of the house. Everything here shrieked money, lots of it – the plush carpets, gilt-framed artwork, a mixture of modern and antique furnishings.
He followed her into the huge, gleaming kitchen – all white cabinets, white granite counters, and professional grade stainless steel appliances.
“This is really something,” he told her in awe. “You must like to cook a lot with a kitchen this size.”
Elle smiled sheepishly. “You’d like to think so, wouldn’t you? The truth of the matter, though, is that I can boil water for tea but not much else. I grew up with servants, never had to worry about cooking or cleaning or doing the laundry. And my parents employ a housekeeper here for me as well. She leaves ready to cook meals for me so that I don’t have to eat out all the time. Do you like to cook, Ben?”
“Some. Though it’s been a challenge to get creative when all you have to work with is a two-burner hot plate and a microwave,” he admitted.
She beamed. “Well, you’d have all the space in the world if you decide to move in. This kitchen has every gadget, appliance, and convenience you’d ever need.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
Ben intentionally remained non-committal as he continued to follow Elle on the tour of the multi-level house. The ground floor included the living room, formal dining room, a library/office, the huge eat-in kitchen, and a pantry that was bigger than his entire apartment.
The second floor consisted of two separate suites, almost like self-contained apartments. Each suite included a bedroom with a walk-in closet, a spacious bathroom, and a sitting area/office. The third floor, which was used exclusively by Elle’s parents when they visited New York every couple of months, had an identical layout to the second.
In addition, there was an attached garage and a rooftop garden that offered up incredible views of Manhattan. Ben couldn’t even begin to calculate how much a property of this size would be valued at, especially given its prime location within the city.
“So what do you think?” Elle asked eagerly as they returned to the living room. “I mean, I’ve never seen your place but I have to imagine this is at least a step or two up from that.”
“A step or two?” Ben shook his head in bemusement. “More like a few hundred miles. Or a whole world apart. I honestly don’t think this could work, Elle. I appreciate the offer but I’m just not sure I’d ever fit in a place like this.”
Elle shook her raven head in denial. “You don’t have to “fit in” anywhere, Ben. I mean, you’d just be my roommate, free to come and go as you please. And given how much time you spend on the road for work, you’d hardly even be here.”
When Elle’s roommate Delia had decided to accept a job in Paris, Elle had eagerly offered the empty suite of rooms to Ben. She’d been quick to clarify that their relationship would continue to remain strictly platonic, that they would be nothing more than roommates and good friends.
Ben’s initial instinct
had been to gently refuse her kind offer, not entirely convinced that Elle truly meant what she said. But when she told him he wouldn’t be expected to pay rent, merely his share of the utilities and his own groceries, he’d agreed to at least look at the place. The thriftiness that had been instilled in him from youth by his blue-collar family was tempted by the possibility of being able to save some money while making a considerable upgrade to his living conditions at the same time.
Now that he’d had the grand tour, however, all of his doubts returned full force. Despite the obvious beauty and grandeur of the house, it all left Ben feeling more than a little cold. And the place certainly didn’t call to him, didn’t feel the least bit like a home. Not at all like the way he’d felt the first time he’d walked inside the cabin in Big Sur.
There was really no comparison between this elegant Manhattan brownstone and the rugged, laidback oceanfront cabin. Even the much larger and more formal McKinnon home in Carmel Highlands was far more casual and welcoming than the Kimbrough residence. And while Ben had easily been able to envision himself living in either of the coastal homes, the same couldn’t be said of the intimidating city dwelling.
He hesitated before telling her, “I just don’t know, Elle. I’ve never lived in a place like this before, you know?”
She laughed softly. “It’s just a house, Ben. And you’d have your own things around you, after all. I mean, Delia did leave a few pieces behind but we could store them in the garage. Though the computer workstation she left in her office might be something you’d like to use.”
Ben looked around the very formal room they were standing in, afraid that if he made one wrong move some priceless collectible would tumble to the floor. “I suppose the suite is more or less like a separate apartment,” he mused, as though to himself. “And I guess you’ve got a point that I’d only be here half the time at best.”
“I hardly ever saw Delia,” offered Elle, obviously pulling out all the stops to convince him. “Most of the time I didn’t even remember I had a roommate. And when my parents were here, Delia pretty much stayed in her rooms.”
And that was yet another concern for Ben. “What are your parents going to say if you have a male roommate?”
Elle gave a careless shrug. “I’m twenty-nine, you know, and I’ve been taking care of myself for quite some time. My parents trust my decisions. And, yes, they’re rather old-fashioned about certain things but they also trust my judgment. If I assure them you’re strictly my roommate – my platonic roommate – then they’ll be fine with it.”
But Ben still wasn’t convinced, still felt a niggling sense of doubt about the whole situation. “And if I do agree to this, Elle, it needs to be understood upfront that roommates is all we’d be,” he reminded her in a gentle but firm manner. “I like and respect you too much to ever lead you on, or to let you hope we’ll ever be more than friends.”
The smile she gave him didn’t quite reach her eyes, but her tone was confident and casual as she assured him, “Well, of course. All of that goes without saying, Ben. After all, I’m dating Marcus now while you – well, sometimes I’m afraid you’ll never get over that woman who broke your heart, whoever she is.”
He had yet to tell Elle any specific details about the woman he continued to pine after, including her name or where they’d met or how long their relationship had lasted.
“That woman,” he said quietly, “wasn’t much more than a girl when I knew her, only twenty years old. And I never said that she broke my heart. It was actually the other way around.”
Elle stared at him, the surprise on her face evident. “You left her? You were the one to break things off? Then why - ”
“Why am I still so hung up on her if I was the one to end things?” he finished. “Because I left her for her own good. I had nothing to offer her back then, while she had absolutely everything to look forward to, all sorts of dreams to fulfill. I left so that she could do exactly that.”
“And has she?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, but I’d be shocked if she hasn’t. She was a force to be reckoned with, even at twenty years of age.”
“You haven’t tried to get in touch with her then?” asked Elle thoughtfully. “Or even looked her up on social media?”
“No.” He shook his head firmly. “I’ve resisted the urge to Google her, or see if she’s on Facebook, that sort of thing. If I did – well, I’m not sure how much longer my good intentions would last. And while I’m in a better place financially and job-wise now, I doubt she’d ever want to see me again after what I did to her.”
Elle looked as though she wanted to quiz him further on the subject, but Ben guessed that the look on his face must have warned her off.
“I get it now,” she assured him. “You still love this girl and probably will for a long time, maybe even forever. And you aren’t ready to move on. So I get it, really I do. You and I are just friends. Friends and hopefully roommates.”
He hesitated for long seconds before finally giving a brief, decisive nod. “Okay. Friends and roommates. I’ll give my landlord notice tonight. Good thing I’m on a month to month lease.”
As he and Elle exchanged a brief, friendly hug, Ben only hoped he wouldn’t come to regret his decision. Because in spite of her repeated assurances to the contrary, he still wasn’t convinced that all she felt for him was mere friendship.
Chapter Seven
July
Ben clinked his champagne flute against Elle’s. The bubbly brew wasn’t his usual drink of choice – he was much more likely to choose beer, whiskey, or red wine – but he supposed that tonight’s occasion called for the rather shockingly expensive Brut.
“Congratulations,” he told her sincerely. “I know how hard you worked for this promotion. And you deserve it, Elle.”
Elle was practically giggling – a very un-Elle like behavior – as she returned the toast. She’d already had a few celebratory drinks with her co-workers, who’d dragged her out to a favorite watering hole after she’d given them the good news. By the time she’d returned home, she had been more than a little tipsy, another very atypical behavior for her.
And she had been so happy, so thrilled at having received the promotion she’d worked so hard for, that Ben had impulsively suggested they go out to dinner to celebrate. He’d had something of an ulterior motive in inviting her, however – that of providing him with a much needed distraction. Otherwise, he would have been spending the evening closed up in his home office flipping through the hundreds of photos of Lauren still stored on his computer.
The anniversary of the day they’d first met was always bittersweet for him. And it was one of the very few times that he permitted himself to not only gaze longingly at her image, but to let all the memories of their time together wash over him.
It had been his third night in Big Sur, and they were sitting out on the deck sharing dessert and a huge mug of Irish coffee. The fog had rolled in, and the night air was crisp and drizzly. Lauren had scoffed when he’d suggested heading inside, had half-jokingly told him to toughen up if he wanted to survive a summer on the northern California coast. And while he’d thrown a flannel shirt on over his thin cotton T-shirt, Lauren had remained stubbornly barefoot, clad only in her skimpy shorts and tank top. But he’d remained silent when she lit some logs in the fire pit and then huddled under a cashmere throw with him.
A dab of whipped cream from the Irish coffee had clung adorably to the tip of her nose, and he hadn’t been able to resist licking it off. It had only been a light, teasing touch, but it had been more than enough to arouse both of them instantly.
They’d forgotten the chill in the air, had tossed off the blanket just prior to stripping off their clothes. And then Lauren had boldly straddled his lap, lowering her tight, slick pussy onto his hard, fully erect dick. They had fucked like wild things out under the stars, until he had carried her inside to continue their frantic coupling in much warmer and far more comfortable surroun
dings.
He had snapped a quick photo of her just before he’d licked the whipped cream off her nose, and it was that particular shot he’d been gazing at morosely when Elle had arrived home earlier. The news she’d then shared about her promotion, and the invitation he had subsequently issued to dinner, had been necessary diversions to what would have otherwise been a night spent brooding and wishing for things he could never again have.
The alcohol Elle had consumed made her considerably more relaxed and chatty than he’d ever seen her before, and Ben couldn’t help laughing along with her during the meal. It had been a long time since he’d felt like laughing, since he’d allowed himself to have a good time. For four long years now he’d been beating himself up over what he had done to Lauren, even though he was still convinced it had been for her own good. So he resolved that for tonight, at least, he’d give himself a reprieve from the guilt and regret, and enjoy a good meal with a good friend instead.
By the time they had finished dinner, they’d consumed not just the entire bottle of champagne, but one of merlot as well, plus after-dinner drinks. Elle was giggling and weaving precariously on her sensible heels as they exited the cab, and Ben wrapped his hand around her arm to steady her as they climbed the stairs of the brownstone. He was more than a little tipsy himself, but at least the alcohol had helped to block out the poignant memories of the girl he’d met and loved four years ago to the day, the one he’d foolishly walked away from.
As he unlocked the front door, Elle began to sway drunkenly again, and this time he quickly slid an arm around her wait to keep her upright. She giggled again, leaning her head on his shoulder as he led her inside.
And then she shocked him speechless by sliding her arms around his neck, pressing her body flush against his as she tugged his head down for her kiss. Too startled to react at first, Ben remained passive, his hands hanging loosely by his side. And while he wasn’t exactly pulling away from Elle’s very unexpected embrace, he wasn’t actively participating, either.
Sensational Page 10
