My phone chimed at the worst possible time.
“Dammit! I thought you turned that thing off when you went to bed,” Roan complained as he pounded against my ass. “Way to ruin the moment.”
As I grabbed my cell and put it on vibrate, my eyes narrowed, not that my expression mattered since I was facing the headboard. The text was from Denzi, my roommate.
Denzi: Are we riding to work together or taking separate cars?
For a moment, I considered her request. Sometimes we did. Since I wanted a reason to get out of here, after twenty minutes of this torture, it gave me the perfect excuse.
me: Hell yeah! Be home soon.
Then I moved the phone back to the nightstand where it slipped out of my hand and clattered as it hit it the wood. Behind me, Roan sighed loudly. Mostly, I didn’t care. After all, he woke me up to have sex and it was meh sex at best.
“Really, babe?” He growled as he gave up and flopped on the bed beside me, landing on his back. His bent arm covered much of his face, but from the way he bit his lower lip, I could tell he was frustrated.
Rolling over, I let my feet hit the floor and immediately set to work finding my pile of clothes. The skirt and shoes were easy enough, since I dropped them beside the bed, but then Roan had decided to get involved and tossed the rest of my clothes around with little care, which would explain why my bra was draped over the lampshade and my sweater dangled from the footboard. The location of my panties was a mystery for a moment until I glanced at Roan and found them dangling from his forefinger. “Thanks,” I muttered as I started to shut myself in the bathroom.
“What? No apology?” He glared at me from the bed where he lay propped on his side.
Taking a deep breath, I considered for a moment precisely what he wanted me to say. Nope. I had nothing. “And what am I supposed to be sorry for this time?” I didn’t even try to hide the annoyance in my voice.
“We didn’t finish.” He gestured to his semi, like I was supposed to stop and handle it for him. Judging from the pile of Hustlers I’d stumbled upon not so long ago in his closet, he didn’t need my help.
Come to think of it, if it weren’t for my vibrator, I wouldn’t have had an orgasm in freaking forever and he never apologized to me. Fuming, I reached into the bathroom drawer, pulled out what I sought, and tossed him the KY Warming Lube. “Handle it.” Then I slammed the door.
Relationships weren’t supposed to be like this. We were never supposed to be dating anyway. Roan had been bartending one night and I stayed to hang out after my assignment. I may have done a few too many shots and he took me home. His home. This very apartment. The sex had been amazing, spontaneous, fun, sexy, and perfect. I almost never had one-night stands, except for like four times, and when he wanted to see me again, I agreed.
While I showered, I remembered how everything had worked between us for a while. The first six months had been great, but lately we were in rut city. We never had fun. We always argued over stupid stuff. And I had started feeling used because I couldn’t remember the last time I had an orgasm during sex. Seriously, even now as the steaming hot water washed over me, the particulars of that momentous occasion escaped me. Hell, the sex had been meh long before I stopped having orgasms apparently.
As I turned the water off, Roan passed me a towel. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to start a fight, babe.”
While I dried my face, I gritted my teeth. ‘Babe’ had been a cute nickname at first, but now I wanted him to call me by my name or find a new term of endearment. It felt so...basic...and I was anything but basic, according to that Facebook quiz. “Do you even remember my name?”
“Of course, I do.” Roan shifted uncomfortably against the vanity.
I wrapped the towel around me and tucked in one corner near my boob to hold it in place. Then I crossed my arms over my chest and smiled sweetly at him. “So what is it?”
“What do you mean?” He rubbed the back of his neck and I could see him struggling to deflect my question. “Wanna meet up after work tonight?”
“Answer the question, please.” I took two steps towards him and leaned against his chest. He had a nice body. Honestly, his looks were my favorite thing about him, which made me feel terribly superficial.
Instantly his arms were around me and he leaned down to kiss me, but I pulled out of reach. “Delilah,” he groaned.
“Now the rest of it,” I urged.
“What does it matter? If I have my way, you’ll quit your job, marry me, and take my name!” Roan frowned deeply.
You know, when a guy you’ve been dating for a while suggests marriage is in the future, most girls squeal in delight. My reaction was more of a full body shudder. Luckily, he took it as me being cold or we’d have had a bigger fight on our hands.
“Babe, get dressed. You’re freezing.” He ran his hands up and down my arms.
See, if he had paid any attention to my skin temperature, he’d have noticed I was actually toasty warm, still pink from the nearly scalding hot shower I’d just enjoyed in an effort to wash the stress out of me. I could’ve commented on it, but instead, decided to tackle the one most relevant issue. “I’m not quitting my job.” I spoke quietly and my eyes never met his. Then I turned, picked up my clothes and trudged out to the bedroom to get dressed.
There were clean panties in my purse. I’d put those on for now and change my clothes at home when I returned in seven minutes or less, if I had my way. Ah, but Roan had followed me out and flopped on the bed angrily.
“Why do you insist on keeping that job?” He glared at me while propped on his side facing my direction.
“I quit college five years ago for this job. I have no real skills. I’m sticking with it until I figure what to do with my life. I’ve told you this. Tons of times. Why is this so hard for you to understand?” I stood in only panties, my hands on my hips, my jaw set. If this douche kept causing frown lines, I’d be out of work in no time whether I liked it or not. Carter liked his decoys young and flawless. Let’s face it, I was already hanging on by a thread.
Roan sat up suddenly. “It’s a job, not a career. It can be replaced.”
At first I ignored him and tugged my bra into place before pulling on my skirt and shirt, then I realized he was in no position to lecture me. Straightening, I leaned toward him and enunciated my words. “You’re a damn bartender. Why don’t you get a career, then you can talk?” I could actually see the hairs on his neck bristling, but rather than hear him out, I grabbed my purse and stormed out of the room.
He followed me as far as the front door, but since he was still in boxers, he wouldn’t chase me farther. Yanking on the lever, I started to walk into the too bright sun when I realized my hand was stuck. To my horror, Roan started to walk over to me and help, but I wanted nothing to do with him at the moment. “Leave me alone!” I shrieked as I struggled to free my hand. It hurt like hell and I could already feel it swelling. Still, I somehow managed to rush from the apartment, holding my palm to my chest as warm tears stung my eyes.
Chapter 2
“Ready?” Denzi asked an hour and a half later as we walked from the parking lot to the office for our usual afternoon meeting.
Sighing, I fished in my purse for my phone. This was the fourth time it had rang since we left our apartment. I groaned, then I showed her my cell screen. It was Roan. Again. Still. Once more, I sent him to voicemail. “I can’t even right now,” I muttered.
Before I could drop my cell back into the deep abyss that was my purse, she grabbed my hand and looked at me wide eyed. “Um, what happened here?”
Chuckling, I glanced at the back of my hand. It was swollen and had a purple bruise. Shaking my head, I explained using as few words as possible. “You know the expression about never going to bed angry?” I smirked as Denzi nodded. “Apparently I should never leave angry either.”
“Fighting again?” Her brow furrowed with worry.
“Yeah, we argued, which is why he’s blowing me up now, but this,”
I said as I gestured to my injury, “was because I tried to storm out pissed and my hand ended up getting stuck in his levered door handle.”
Her eyes bulged. “You did this on a door handle?”
“True story. I’m a delicate flower, you know.” Winking, I picked up the pace. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want to miss Carter’s classic meeting opening.” Then she made a gagging sound and we laughed.
“Greetings, decoys!” I mimicked, in my best Charlie voice. “Angels has a much nicer ring to it,” I moaned. “Of course he thinks he’s being more politically correct, since we have guys too.”
“Still, do you not feel a bit like a wooden duck when he says that? I actually hear quacking in my head every day at that greeting,” Denzi commented as she pushed her long dark hair back from her face.
“Truth? I totally pretend I’m paying attention, but I’m really writing the reports I was supposed to do before I came in.” Chuckling, I reached for the handle to enter the building.
Stepping in front of me, Denzi grabbed for it instead. “I’m thinking I should get this for you,” she teased. “You can’t afford to mess up anything else. It’s money, baby!”
Bowing slightly, I mumbled, “Of course you’re right.” Then I sashayed through the door. “You can get all my doors for me. Handle my light work, woman.”
Obviously her mind was still on our previous conversation. “I can’t believe Carter has never caught you,” she murmured, a hint of wonder in her voice. “I mean, he loves to call us out on pretty much everything.”
“Ah yes, but Carter loves to hear the sound of his own voice more. It’s all in the timing. Watch and learn, dollface.” The demonstration began as I gave her my most focused look while we waited for the elevator. “The key is to look serious, intent. When you’re doing something you’re not supposed to, you just look guilty.”
“So that’s lesson one?” Denzi rolled her eyes, then she tried to imitate my face. The results were completely laughable.
“Practice. Lots and lots of practice.” The rest of the lessons would have to wait because the doors opened and we joined a group of executives returning to their offices from lunches and meetings. It was the same thing every day. Some would try and catch our eye. Okay, probably Denzi’s gorgeous green eyes, since she was 5’10”, thin, and beautiful in a way I had always envied, but only because I was merely 5’0” tall and average at best.
Denzi kept staring down at me. Finally she spoke after everyone else had cleared out on a previous floor. “I’m not sure I like the way you’re looking at me.”
Still in my lousy mood, I sighed in frustration before words began to spill out uncontrollably. “I swear I don’t know why we’re friends sometimes. We have nothing in common. We can’t wear each other’s clothes or shoes. Our coloring is too different to share makeup!”
Turning on me, Denzi hit the emergency stop button and shocked me silent. Immediately, the alarm sounded. “I’ll tell you why, Delilah Morgan. We’ve been friends since grade school, back when our last names meant we shared a pair of desks. Our bond is deeper than communal stupid superficial stuff. We share an apartment, a love of fine wine...that we one day hope to afford, and the same opinion on what makes a good man, which is why I’m still looking and you should be.” Her head bobbed while she rambled on. “I can’t help that I grew up tall and have this mad metabolism any more than you can help having outgrown the training bras I still wear and looking like you’re smuggling melons under any shirt, sweater, or dress that you own. So just stop it!” Her finger hovered over the button which would cease the terrible noise she had been screeching over. “Are we good now?”
Feeling more than a little sheepish, I nodded. “I’m sorry. It was that stupid fight with Roan and this dumb job and...everything.”
“Apology accepted. Me? Sorry not sorry. It had to be said.” Immediately, Denzi punched the button and the sound ended while we rode up a few more floors to our destination. The doors opened and we walked out as though nothing had happened. If only I could just maintain the calm I needed to survive the meeting, I might be able to salvage my day.
We walked into the packed conference room and grabbed the last two seats around the enormous table. It was as though our presence signaled the commencement. Moments later, just as I opened my laptop to begin finishing my report, Carter entered with his usual flair for the dramatic.
After smoothing his golden hair and flashing his bright white teeth, he opened the meeting. “Greetings, decoys.”
Immediately, Denzi and I exchanged looks as we gave the required response with the rest of the employees. “Greetings, Carter.”
“Let’s begin.” Then he loaded the presentation from his laptop and I promptly zoned out and focused on my task. He was about to share each decoy’s assignment for the night. It looked like every one of us had a mission this Friday evening. No wonder I didn’t have time to find a better boyfriend.
Over the next thirty minutes he passed out file after file, giving the relevant information and reminding each decoy their operation could be found for later use in their email. It was simple enough really. There was no need for the meetings other than Carter was a bit of an attention whore.
I watched as the others were given some pretty exciting missions. When Denzi was sent to an art walk in NoDa, I sighed. She was constantly hired for these sweet locations and hot guys. Time and again. I could say this as we’ve been working for Carter roughly five years, since before we were old enough to drink and needed a job to support our college wannabe party lifestyle. It was cool then, now at twenty-four, it was starting to wear on me. I was probably going to die of cancer from secondhand smoke given all the crappy ass bars I kept getting sent to.
“Something you’d like to add?” Carter asked with more than a hint of annoyance when he heard my sigh. He did hate being interrupted. I opened my mouth to respond, but he made it clear his question was merely rhetorical. “We’ll talk after,” he announced as he passed me my file featuring a creepy looking mail carrier known to frequent the bar near the post office on Carmel Road.
Finally Carter closed the meeting the same way he always did. “I haven’t lost a decoy yet, and I don’t intend to.” He gave us a stern look. “Follow the rules. Keep your locator app on at all times. Never agree to meet at a secondary location. And call me when you’re through, take care of you!” Then Carter smiled as though he were so clever and hadn’t stolen his best line from a Julia Roberts movie.
By the time ‘after’ came and he turned his attention to me, I was ready to just slink out of the conference room. Once again, I had landed a loser. “Have fun,” I called to Denzi as I packed up and she walked out. Turning to leave, Carter stepped in my path.
“Is there a problem, Delilah?” he questioned with a frown.
Pulling my shoulders back to access my full height, I tried to appear confident as I shared my dismay over my job. “It would just be nice if I had a sweet assignment now and then like Denzi, for example. That’s all.”
Throwing an arm around my shoulder, Carter hugged me against his side and steered me so we could survey the rest of the decoys as they moved about the office outside of the glassed in conference room. “Look at them. Look at Denzi and Marcy and Elisa especially.” He pointed with his free hand to indicate the three women he had named.
“What about them?” I struggled to hold back a sigh.
“These women, they’re stallions,” he cooed by way of explanation.
Gazing at them, I recognized they were all tall, thin, and beautiful, but still I worked here. I managed to have operations almost every single night. His explanation still didn’t add up. “What does that mean?” My frustration was beginning to show in the edginess of my voice.
“Well, they are built for speed.” He turned to look at me, placing a hand on each shoulder. “You? You’re built for comfort. Luckily, this stable is a place with room for all types because men, men
love all types.” He smiled down at me. “Now go get the creep.” Somehow, I could almost picture him patting my rump, like he would a plow horse to keep it plodding along. My shoulders drooping slightly, I moped out to my cubicle to study the file and prep for my evening. Reading as I walked, I discovered my target was married. His wife had contacted the agency because he was staying out late on Friday nights, every week. Sometimes when he returned, he smelled of perfume. At least once, she’d found lipstick on his collar. It was pretty much a report of all the classic red flags.
When I arrived at my desk, my extension was ringing. Immediately I recognized the caller. Apparently, since Roan couldn’t reach me on my cell, he’d decided to harass me on my work line. Clearly this was never going to stop unless I answered. After the conversation with Carter, I think I was just upset enough to face this new disappointment. “What?” I asked coldly.
“Hey babe!” Roan sounded relieved I had finally picked up. “You didn’t answer any of my calls before.”
Sighing loudly, just in case he hadn’t already picked up on my annoyance, I responded. “I was in a meeting. I’m working. We’ve been together over a year. You should know my schedule by now!”
“Sorry. You know how much I hate your job. I didn’t pay attention,” he mumbled into the phone.
“Yeah,” I hissed. “You never pay attention. At least doing this job, I get to feel attractive because you sure as hell don’t do that for me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Analyzing his tone of voice, I realized he didn’t sound angry, just genuinely confused. It made me all the more upset.
“Why did you call me?” I asked, completely frustrated. “What do you want, Roan? It certainly isn’t me.” I leaned back in my chair, brushed my unruly hair back from my face, and covered my body protectively with my free arm. Suddenly, I felt very exposed and insecure.
“Of course I want you,” he murmured gently. “If I didn’t, I would have left right after we had sex, silly!”
Looking to the ceiling, I questioned why I was with this moron. “Roan,” I began agitatedly, “we were in your apartment! Why would you be the one to leave? Dammit.” Some days, carrying on a conversation with him was like talking to a concrete wall. He was that dense. When he didn’t respond, I continued. “So, instead, I left angry this morning after yet another stupid fight and you didn’t come after me.”
New Love Page 38
