Love Me Now (Encounters #4)

by Fifi Flowers

  “Working on my last holiday job today. Then I will be free, free, free to relax until after the New Year. What about you, what are you finishing up before you leave to spend Christmas with your family?”

  “Nothing really. I’ve been looking at properties to flip. Hint! Hint!”

  Big less-than-innocent eyes glimmered at me behind a coffee cup, hiding a grin. Taking a drink from my own cup of joe, I grimaced knowing she would eventually wear me down.

  “I’m just finishing up my own house. Give me a few months and I will be ready. I’m still trying to find living room furniture and a dining room table. I used my old table in my kitchen nook. Not to mention my double-bed looks ridiculously minuscule in my massive master suite. I don’t know, maybe the house is too big…”

  “…That’s your dream home! You went through a lot to get that. Remember that! You will fill it up with furnishings… and a family. You have to open yourself up to letting someone in.” She waggled her perfectly arched eyebrows in my direction. “Stanz?”

  “Oh my God! Stop bringing him back into the conversation!”

  “He’s really into you.”

  “Only because he can’t have me.”

  “Maybe… maybe you should give him a chance.” I knew she couldn’t be serious.

  “Not exactly the right man for my lifestyle.”

  “Perhaps not, but I think you need to let some guy into your life.”

  Not easy when my heart belongs to him.

  “Stop worrying about my love life. What about yours? Been up to San Fran lately? Don’t think I don’t notice that you keep changing the subject every time I ask.” I raised an eyebrow, challenging her.

  “New subject!”

  Just what I thought she would say.

  “You know, some day you’re going to have to come clean and spill all of your own dirty laundry. I will be right here waiting to hear every last detail.”

  “When the time is right. Let’s order something bad and full of calories.”

  “Nice diversion.”

  I shook my head, looking over the menu for something new to try. I had an overwhelming need to change things up in my life. Well, not everything.

  The rest of breakfast was spent chatting about Christmas presents that we had bought. No more mention of our pathetic love lives, or at least mine was. Seven years, and I still was not over him—I was certain I never would be even if one day I moved on.

  Saying goodbye to Gracee I headed to Mr. Granger’s apartment. It was the final day of installation and I had everything lined up. I had mapped the entire place and made several sketches so I knew where I wanted each item to be placed. And to make sure that everything came together smoothly, I had hired several workers and hoped that they would arrive on time. We had not a minute to waste when transforming the bachelor pad into a simple and cozy Christmas environment per the instructions I was given by Louise. Nothing too over the top and include decorations that said the owner could’ve decorated it himself, if he had the time. Based on the simple elements I had viewed originally throughout, I understood perfectly what should and should not be done on the project.

  So armed with basic ornaments, I decided to bring in a few not-truly-needed homey elements for an extra touch. For example, in the living room, I tossed a couple plaid red and green throw blankets on his sectional. Then next to the electric fireplace, I added some basic wrought iron fireplace equipment; fire tending tools and a firewood holder complete with a bundle of real logs. Above on the mantel, I placed some simple greenery, a few pinecones and a couple clusters of varying height, thick, cylindrical, red candles. To finish off the seating area, a few Christmas pillows—even one with St Nick. Scanning the completed area, feeling satisfied, I imagined curling up, drinking a glass of wine in the arms of a certain man.

  Moving on to the biggest focal points to accomplish my design plans, I brought in a large Noble fir tree along with two smaller ones. I thought it would be nice to set one up in his home office, and adorned it with plaid ribbon and miniature books. Then in lieu of a tree skirt, I brought in one of my favorite after-ski blankets to cover the base stand. Running my hand across a book spine that I had noticed on the bookshelf when I first visited, I dug a miniature Woolly Mammoth figurine from my pocket and placed it next to it. Lastly, as I had done in the living room, I added some extra pinecones and candles, strategically scattering them around the office… or library since it contained several books.

  Happy with that room, the master bedroom was the other location that I decided to set up a tree. For that one I had gone out to an antique store (a favorite shop of mine on Melrose—the owner is lovely) that has a great vintage clothing section as well as a miniature collection for dollhouses. There I purchased items that said masculinity; argyle socks, ties, cuff links and even hats that I could picture featured on the series Mad Men. And to incorporate the holiday theme along with the manly ornaments I used full-size wool plaid scarves to be woven between the tree branches rather than ribbon. Beyond the simple addition of a tree, I added plaid holiday guest hand towels and a cranberry-cinnamon-spice potpourri in the master bath to enhance the feeling of Christmas. In fact, that same combination was placed in all of the bathrooms.

  Back in the main open area of the apartment, I thought one kind of over the top item might be fun—pinecones and greenery on the somewhat boring dining room chandelier. Taking that task on myself while others were busy hanging ornaments, lights, ribbons and whatever else I had on their handout. Yes, I may be a bit detail oriented, but it was important that everything be in its designated place per my design sketches. So up the ladder I went to attach the various ropes of greenery and to my surprise a less-than-bubbly, maybe nervous, Louise approached me, followed by another woman.

  “Oh my goodness… he hired someone to decorate… that man needs a woman…”

  “No, that’s Mr. Granger’s girlfriend Betty.”

  “Girlfriend… I’ve heard nothing about…”

  “…Please don’t mention her. I’m sure he wants to surprise you at some point.”

  “Let me just say hello…”

  Oh shit! Are they talking about me?

  Walking toward me, a wide-eyed Louise grabbed hold of the woman’s arm with one hand, stopping her in her pursuit to move in my direction.

  “Let’s get going. Mr. Granger had to fly out to Chicago so he’s putting you up in a hotel until he returns. Then we’ll get you moved into the guest room.”

  Placing her other arm around the woman’s back, she guided her to the front door continuing to mumble a multitude of things I didn’t understand (not out of her ordinary behavior) nor did I believe her captive did either.

  Over one shoulder the woman made one last attempt to speak.

  “Look forward to seeing you again, dear. Your secret is safe with me.”

  Then she winked and disappeared from my view.

  What the hell was that all about?

  Did Louise call her Mrs. Granger?

  Was that his mother?

  And more importantly, did she tell her that I was Mr. Granger’s girlfriend Betty? Louise was definitely an interesting woman. I shook my head and climbed down from my step-ladder then stood back looking at my handiwork. Then went around to check on how everyone else was doing and offered my assistance, if needed.

  With everyone gone at the end of the day, I went around one more to each room making sure every item was exactly how I had imagined it. And it was, but after close inspection I wasn’t completely satisfied—especially with the master bedroom. Realizing it was missing a touch of warmth, I went out to the living room and plucked one of the throw blankets from the sofa. Back in the room, I laid the throw across the foot of his king-size sleigh bed, just the touch it required. However, it still seemed to need something else. Aha! Quickly, I went to grab the St Nick pillow and then settled it in front of four designer Euro-bed-shams and it looked perfect… like him.

  Look at that gorgeous face on the pillow n
ext to me. Wow! How did I get so lucky? I silently asked myself, thinking that maybe Emily wasn’t so bad after all. Without her tea making and stealing things that didn’t belong to her skills, I would’ve never had the chance to come face to face with St Nick. I had to giggle at my own use of his nickname.

  “What’s so funny?” escaped his yummy lips in a groggy, sexy voice.

  “I was just recalling that you were nothing like a saint last night. And wondering why your friends would call you St Nick? Good Samaritan acts? Or is it a play on words and just the opposite? Hmmm… Maybe Naughty Nick is what they really mean.”

  “They tease me mainly because I was born on Christmas and named Nicholas.”

  “You were born on Christmas Day?”

  “Actually that is up for debate almost annually. My mom insists that I was good ol’ St Nick’s last delivery on Christmas Eve. My father says he was late…” Nick stopped to laugh. “…for his delivery and that I was born on Christmas Day. According to them, since I was born as the clock struck midnight they both claim to be right.”

  “What does your birth certificate say?”

  “December 24th, Christmas Eve, as my mother claimed since she was the one to fill out the form and the nurse confirmed it.” Another laugh. “It’s all good, we celebrate it on both days.”

  “So you’re spoiled on Christmas?”

  “Right now, I’d like to spoil you in every way imaginable.”

  “No one’s stopping you, Naughty Nick.”

  I giggled on for a few brief moments before his luscious mouth encompassed mine and our tongues became one—tangling, dancing. He was perfect in his movement. Slow and tender to start, exploring every inch of my skin with his magical hands, he set my entire body on fire—you’d never know that a freezing, wintry snow storm was going on around us. I had never experienced the feelings and sensations that he was invoking in my body with his foreign hands as I had only been able to achieve an orgasm alone with my own hands. Not so with him, he slid his fingers with precision and seemed to be listening to my moans as if he was keying into what I liked. And rather than move away, he continued my desired pattern over and over until ripples crashed through my body. It was only then that he varied his methods and moved on to another way of amping my body with his fingers inside of me and his mouth to my breast and lower lips.

  I don’t know how many times I tried to give him the same pleasure he gave me, but no he kept on insisting that the night was all about me. The next morning waking beside him I had the urge to slip my hand over his morning erection or better yet slip beneath the covers and discover him with my mouth. However, I got caught up on staring at him and lost my chance to pleasure him before he took charge once again. Not that I minded at all, being in St Nick’s arms alone was magical and, of course, his mad skills between the sheet garnered no complaints from me—I was happy to go along with his very impressive ride.

  Shaking my head, fanning my heated cheeks, I moved swiftly out of the master bedroom. I was working a job and had no time to be reliving naughty moments in my client’s private space. Into the kitchen I walked, ready to get the final icing-on-the-top item in motion. Time for the crowning touch, my famous gingerbread cookies, and with the help of one final worker we were underway. After mixing up all of the ingredients while the oven pre-heated, I then rolled out the dough while my assistant set up all of the decorating items that we would use once the cookies were baked, out of the oven and cooled. Yes, she was quite familiar with how to give each cookie the proper eyes, nose, mouth and different clothing items; the standard buttons down the front, neckties, bow ties, pants, shorts, skirts, and necklaces—the list went on and on. However, for this client we were sticking with manly clothing. I didn’t always do that, but I felt like I had created a definite theme within the apartment so I couldn’t slip and not link the cookies. I also had to stay completely focused during the decorating part as my mind wanted to wander back to a certain cabin in Mammoth.

  Nope, nope, nope! I refused to go back there and instead rushed to get the treats done and then clean up. And once I had accomplished that, I placed some items around the kitchen which was bare of ornamentation until all baking was complete. First, plaid red and green towels were hung on the oven handle. And then on the counter, on a bookstand, I placed my Martha Stewart Christmas book opened to a recipe for Hard Cider with the gingerbread men on a decorative platter next to it.

  Done! I clapped my hands together pleased with what I had put together. But at the same time a sense of sadness fell over me as I walked out of the apartment. It was not that I would ever want to live in his space—though I loved several furnishings throughout—I loved my house, but there was something familiar that smelt and felt right about the apartment… or him maybe… but not the right him.

  Chapter Five

  Nick…

  With a leather duffle bag and garment bag in hand, I left on a red eye for New York to see a client before heading to Chicago in the late afternoon to deal with Pierce’s urgent matter. For once plane hopping was a welcome diversion as I was out of sorts more than usual after deciding that I was throwing in the towel, and starting to live again. Opening myself up to meeting someone, dating—I hadn’t been on one in seven years as I counted my days with my ski bunny as the best date of my life. Thinking I might need some tips, I grabbed a Maxim magazine from an airport shop—I never could sleep on a plane. In hindsight, I should’ve maybe picked up a Cosmopolitan while I was at it so that I got the woman’s point of view too.

  Skimming through the magazine, I realized that I had only been twenty-three years old at the time. In my prime, some would say, and yet I haven’t had sex with a woman since her. My buddies were all over my ass a few months back when I was in Chicago for some conference that Gram talked me into. They even took me to a sex club, ironically the same club I was going to be visiting, but for a completely different reason. Not that I had planned to partake in the offerings that were available with the mere nod of one’s head to the right person. I will admit there were women there that sparked a little rise in my lower anatomy. However, I had no intention of appeasing the captive gentleman tucked away inside my pants until I was back in my private hotel room.

  Pierce, the man-whore, had given me the most crap for years. He was always trying to hook me up with this one or that one. Even suggesting that he’d help me along—come along for the ride, dude (words to that effect), but I wasn’t into the double teaming on a woman scene. I had tried it once and it just felt awkward. Now, two chicks might have been okay, but I hadn’t been given that option during my adventurous college days. I was pretty sure Pierce had experienced it all and loved every minute which left me blown away that he had turned in his bachelor card for one woman. And one that lives with him in his once sacred apartment never to be seen by the female population. I would never be opposed to having a woman… a certain woman in my apartment, she would be welcome to anything and everything.

  Always my thoughts ran back to her and I needed to break that starting with this trip. Best to break the ice with a complete stranger, I for sure wasn’t ready to jump right into a relationship. I’d already been committed to one woman for seven years, I had so much time to make up. And I started wondering if I had on the prowl for pussy tattooed on my forehead as I found women acting overly friendly to me. Or was it that they had always looked my way but I didn’t notice? There was no way that I was sending up signals, I was just asking for my boarding pass, a beer—nothing out of the norm. It appeared that getting laid was going to be easier than I thought. I just had to remember the moves—that had to be like riding a bicycle, right? Something you never forgot.

  My flight seemed to pass in a flash lost in my thoughts along with skimming articles that were of no use as far as I was concerned. I did find a new nutrition and fitness regime interesting along with a few financial gains programs to invest in, and there were some nice looking, next-to-nude women floating around on pages throughout the magazin
e. But the dating ritual articles had me shaking my head, it seemed that dating apps were the answer to picking up on women. That definitely wasn’t for me, swiping left and right, just didn’t sound right to me. However, for a quick feed-the-need, some of the sites lent you a hand letting you know who was closest and ready. Shit! I had been out of the loop for a long time and suddenly getting back out there really didn’t sound that great.

  Disembarking the plane, I headed for a taxi ride into Manhattan to meet my client and then Gram as he sent me a text when I was up in the air, learning. Fortunately for me, the line was non-existent thanks to the early hour of my arrival and I was able to enjoy the sights along the way without the crowds of people on the streets. Seeing the department store windows decked out for Christmas had me missing home. I have to say that there is no place that comes close to New York during the holidays for festive appeal—it is magical!

  Arriving at a small boutique hotel on 51st, I had the front desk ring my client’s temporary housing while he finished a project before moving to LA. You’d think that he could’ve waited, but he stumbled upon a story written by some NYU student and he didn’t want to miss the opportunity to snag it before someone else did. I couldn’t blame him, Zach sent me the script as soon as he got his hands on it, and it was brilliant. It was sure to get a full financial backing and was certain to be a blockbuster. So in I flew with contracts for both parties to sign, hopefully the boy’s father wouldn’t give us a fight or make demands that could stall the project or worse yet, open the doors for another producer to steal it away.

  Meeting with Zach was always interesting and why would it be any different? It wouldn’t, of course, I realized as he let me inside his suite where housekeeping was cleaning up while three women sat eating breakfast in cocktail dresses and heels. Yes, it was obvious that they were soon to be doing the walk of shame back to where they came from the night before. Greeting the ladies, shaking the stud’s hand, I hung my garment bag over one of the chairs and took a seat on one of the living area sofas. Then I pulled a small satchel out of my main bag that held all the papers we should need if all went well. To my fascination or disgust or bewilderment, Zach acted like the females weren’t present—failing to acknowledge their departure as we began our meeting. It had me further rethinking my attempt to moving on, the whole player thing did not appeal to me.