by Lisse Smith
Lawrence gaze locked with mine for a long, tense moment. We had stopped dancing, and I hadn’t even noticed. “Who are you?” he asked again, and I took that as my queue to escape.
“No one.” I slipped easily from his arms, and without even attempting to find Patrick, I headed toward the door. I’d had enough fun for the evening.
Patrick caught up with me as I was walking out the front doors. “Wait,” he said. “Are you all right?”
I smiled gently at him. “Sure.” I hesitated. “Although I’m not sure I did us any favors tonight,” I added.
“Let me take you home.” He reached out and gripped my fingers in his, and I found that for the first time in a very long time, I welcomed the touch of another human.
TEXT: I think I met my match tonight.
REPLY: how so
TEXT: Lawrence Monterey—big name in business. Powerful. Totally ate me alive.
REPLY: u ok
TEXT: as long as I never see him again in my life i will be fine
REPLY: Must have been fun
TEXT: hes arrogant, self-righteous and dominant
REPLY: reminds me of someone else i know…
TEXT: u wouldnt like him, trust me.
REPLY: I don’t like u either, not when u text me at 3 in the morning…
TEXT: yeah sorry about that
REPLY: no ur not. Im always here, might not be very much help when im half asleep though
TEXT: u should move to a more helpful timezone
REPLY: u first…
Four
I couldn’t discern any lasting effects from the meeting with Lawrence Monterey. Patrick assured me that he hadn’t heard anything about him nosing around the company, and I hoped it remained that way. What was looming closer and closer, however, was Christmas—and the inevitable work Christmas party.
“Please tell me I can get out of it this year?” I nearly begged Patrick.
“No chance.” He laughed. “If I have to go, then you’re sure as hell coming with me.”
“Absolutely no fair,” I complained. “I went to the big, nasty party with you. I should get brownie points and a free pass out of this one.”
“Nice try,” he said, grinning. “But you played dirty at the big party, and you have brownie points to make up, so you will most definitely be attending the company function.”
Probably the only thing that did get me to agree to go was the fact that the venue we booked wasn’t available on Christmas Eve—shocking, I know—so they had to reschedule the party to the twenty-third, which made it much easier for me to cope with the timeframe of Christmas Day.
“Fine,” I huffed finally. “But I’m not staying long.”
“Me neither,” said Patrick. “How about we bail together, something came up and we both had to leave.”
“Deal,” I agreed. “But you better not get drunk and expect me to drag your sorry ass out of there.”
“Can’t,” he told me reluctantly. “I’m flying down to Spain to see the boys on Christmas Eve, so I have to be on my best behavior.”
“Good lord, woman.” Sally’s voice echoed through the bedroom door. “Are you ready yet? We’re going to be late.” Sally had left Gerard and Liam at home and decided to invite herself over to my house after work to get ready for the Christmas party. Not that I minded too much, but true to her nature, I was sure that by now Sally had sussed out everything there was to know about my living arrangements, even down to finding out what was in my fridge and pantry. She was nothing if not thorough.
“Did you get bored snooping?” I asked, as I emerged from the bedroom.
“Crap, Lilly,” Sally breathed. “You look stunning.” Coming from Sally, I didn’t mind the vote of confidence. “And I do not snoop,” she corrected with a twitch of her little English nose.
I had ventured out shopping again for the event, but this time I’d settled on a glittering red strapless number that hugged my body the whole way down to the ground. Without the long slit up one leg, I wouldn’t have been able to walk in it. A pair of simple pumps pulled the image together nicely.
“You better not move suddenly in that thing, or you might split a seam,” Sally advised me happily.
I shook my head in amusement. “It’s not as tight as it looks,” I told her.
“I’ll take your word for that.”
“Come here.” I waved her over. “I want to take our picture.” I positioned her beside me, having to duck down considerably so that our heads were closer together. I snapped us both with my phone and texted the picture.
“Is that going to end up on Facebook?” Sally asked, laughing.
“No. Nothing so embarrassing.”
“Who you sending it to, then?”
“Just a friend.” Then, before she could ask any more questions, I reminded her of her earlier remark that we were going to be late. That woman could move when she wanted to.
This year’s party was much more enjoyable than the last one, and having Sally as my personal buffer worked exceptionally well. I knew a large number of the people here, and even though I wasn’t dressed as comfortably as I would have liked, most of them knew me enough by now to realize that we were only ever going to be friends.
There were a few times during the night when I attracted unwelcome attention, usually from men who had consumed more than their fair share of alcohol; but when that happened, Patrick always seemed to be close at hand and had them moving on before the situation got uncomfortable.
“You do seem to attract trouble, don’t you?” he asked, after he turned away a more persistent admirer.
“It’s not me.” I shrugged. “I don’t know why men can’t just leave me alone. It’s why I don’t do this very often. They just can’t understand why I wouldn’t be interested in them.”
It was Patrick’s turn to shrug. “It’s hard to let a beautiful thing escape.” He grinned cheekily.
“You are so corny.” I smacked him playfully on the arm. “Charming, but equally pathetic.”
“Damn, now you gone and hurt my feelings.” He mimicked a cowboy accent, and I laughed.
“British men just can’t do that accent…sorry,” I told him.
He grinned back at me. “Have you enjoyed yourself?” he asked as he moved me over to sit at a table by the windows.
I nodded. “More than I expected.”
“I know you don’t do parties, so that is positive. We might have you transformed into a party girl before too long.”
I sobered instantly at his words. “That won’t happen.” He noticed the change in me and leaned forward to take my hand.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “That was the wrong thing to say.” I pulled my hand out of his. That wasn’t the right impression to be giving, in a room full of his employees.
“Is it time for our strategic retreat?” he suggested with a sad smile.
“I think so.” I rose with him, and we headed over toward the exits.
“I’ve got some things to finalize back at the office, so Lilly and I are headed back there,” Patrick told Maria, as she stood talking with her husband and some clients. We figured the only way we could legitimately leave early together was if we had company work to do. Not that we actually intended on going to the office, it was just an excuse. “I’ll leave you to settle things up here.”
“Sure,” Maria answered, but she seemed distracted as she glanced around the room, obviously looking for someone. She reached out a hand to stop Patrick as he went to move away. “Just a sec, please, Patrick.” Then she motioned with one hand for someone to join us.
“Carl,” Maria called, as a man approached us through the crowd. “Carl, Patrick just told me he’s on his way back to the office, so you could probably catch a lift back with him, if you’re ready now.”
Patrick gave me a “what the…” look, which I happily shared; then, before we both knew it, Carl was trudging cheerfully along beside us, telling us how convenient it was that we were heading back that way. App
arently Carl actually had some work to finalize for Maria, and he was going on vacation in the morning, so he had to do it tonight. Lucky us! Now we really would have to head to the office.
Carl kept up his monologue the entire way to the offices and then up in the elevator, too. I thanked God that he got off on the ninth floor, which allowed Patrick and me to travel the rest of the way in silence.
“He’s got a lot to say, that man,” I muttered, as the elevator door chimed open on our floor.
“How did we end up here?” Patrick asked in amazement.
“Buggered if I know,” I admitted. I thought I was headed home, and yet here I find myself back at work.
“About the only positive I can see is that there’s alcohol in my office. Let’s go.” He wandered off into the darkness, not bothering to turn any lights on. Pity I didn’t drink alcohol.
As I followed his retreating figure, I wondered what my chances of getting a taxi this late at night on December 23 would be like.
REPLY: Merry Christmas! How was the party
TEXT: F U! R u drunk?
REPLY: might be
“Who are you texting?” Patrick asked. He lay sprawled on one of the lounges in his office, looking totally relaxed and comfortable.
“No one,” I responded absently.
“You text ‘no one’ a lot,” he commented.
“Probably.” I crossed to the window. I never got sick of looking at that view. At night, the lights could have been anywhere in the world; it gave the room a wondrous luminosity that was magical and surreal.
I felt Patrick before I saw him. He stood silently behind me for a long moment, then his hands reached up and gently pulled my hair back to expose the skin on my neck. His lips touched so softly against my neck that I almost didn’t feel them; then slowly he kissed his way down my back, his fingers leaving a trail of sensation across my skin.
I leaned back into his touch. I’m not sure why I didn’t stop him, why that moment was different from every other moment I’ve experienced; but then, in that room, with the lights of the city gently illuminating the space, it felt right.
He turned me gently in his arms. He was moving so slowly, so gently, and I was sure it was because he expected, at any moment for me to pull away, to back out of his embrace and stop what was happening between us. It’s what I should have done. But I didn’t. Instead I stepped into his arms, and gently, tenderly, they closed around my body, and he bought his lips down to touch against mine. The kiss was sweet at first, a nice kiss, but that wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t do nice, I didn’t want nice.
I wanted someone to possess me, to take away my thoughts and make me forget everything. Just for a little while, I wanted someone else to be in charge. I pulled his jacket off his shoulders, and suddenly everything changed. We couldn’t get our clothes off fast enough, I couldn’t touch enough of him and he couldn’t hold me any tighter.
Within moments we were both naked, and with astonishment evident in his gaze, Patrick lay me down on the sofa in his office; and for the first time in a long, long time, I felt the oneness of sex.
“Lilly.” Patrick whispered my name as I lay in his arms a while later, his fingers running a soothing caress down my side. “Oh god, Lilly.”
I laughed at his stunned expression. I was surprised that I felt so clearheaded after that experience, but I didn’t regret it, which was all that was important at the moment.
Patrick rose up on one elbow to gaze down at my face. “I know I’m not supposed to say stuff like this to you, but you are so incredibly beautiful that you take my breath away.”
I smiled in genuine warmth at him. “You can say that,” I allowed. “Just not where anyone else can hear it.”
He shook his head, still a little amazed. “I can’t believe that I’m lying here with you,” he admitted. “That this actually happened.”
“Is it such a shock to you?” I asked.
“Shock? It’s a freaking miracle.” He laughed. “I had visions of me wanting you forever and never getting any closer to you than my dreams. And then, this.” He traced a hand down my stomach, and then his lips found mine; and he told me in another manner just how much he liked what he saw. He had stamina, I’d definitely give him that. To back up that soon and with that much enthusiasm was impressive and deeply satisfying.
I must have fallen asleep, because one moment we were talking quietly, his arms wrapped around me as we lay on the lounge, and the next moment he was rocking me gently awake.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he whispered quietly.
I sat up, somewhat groggily. “What time is it?”
“Sadly, time for both of us to leave, or we’re going to have some uncomfortable explaining to do.”
“Crap.” I really would have rather stayed asleep.
“I have to agree with you there,” he said. “I’d rather stay right here, maybe move up to one of the corporate apartments because there’s a much more comfortable bed up there, but somehow I don’t think you’d be in on it with me.”
I shot him an amused glance. “Nice try.”
I stood up from the lounge and walked naked over toward the windows. That’s one thing that I am not—a prude. I like nakedness, always have, and it’s one of the few things in my life that I’ve managed to retain over the last few years. Bodies are beautiful in their most basic form, and I have no problem with how mine looks; and trust me, looking at Patrick’s nakedness was far from a trauma for me.
It was just coming on toward dawn, so the lights of the city were dimmed, and the horizon was stained with a lightness that promised much more to come. Arms wrapped around me from behind as Patrick planted a long, delicious kiss on the back of my neck.
“Tomorrow is a bad day for you.” He wasn’t asking a question, it was more an observation.
I nodded.
“Do you want me to stay?” he asked quietly.
“No,” I answered immediately. “No,” I repeated, and he let it go at that. That was probably why I allowed this thing between us to happen. He didn’t push me, and he didn’t ask me questions. He just waited for me to tell him when I was ready. He was a patient man.
He dropped me at my house as the sun took hold of the city. He kissed me long and thoroughly as we stood on the doorstep of my unit. Then, with his hands clasped on either side of my face, he whispered, “I’m not asking for anything, Lilly.” I watched as his car disappeared around the corner.
TEXT: I slept with Patrick.
REPLY: WHAT?
TEXT: i know, i know
REPLY: How do we feel about this?
TEXT: Im not sure.
REPLY: can you tell me when you know so then i will know
TEXT: i think im OK. Hes very patient and doesnt want to understand everything
REPLY: thats good i guess
TEXT: thats about all i can manage
REPLY: thats good enough. If he wants more then he isnt right for u.
TEXT: i dont love him
REPLY: does he make u happy
TEXT: sometimes
REPLY: Then just go with that for the moment. Love comes later
TEXT: not for me it doesnt
REPLY: yeah ur probably right
TEXT: go back to sleep
REPLY: turn ur phone back on when ur ready to talk
TEXT: k
Five
I didn’t see Patrick again for three days. Christmas day, my bad day, fell on Thursday, and with boxing day and the fact that he went to Spain and then the added bonus of my phone being turned off I didn’t hear from him again until Sunday.
He left me numerous voicemail messages, which I didn’t get until I turned my phone back on Saturday night. Each one of his messages grew more and more anxious the longer it went without a response. I wasn’t ready to deal with the world just yet so I let it go and promised myself that I’d call him in the morning.
Apparently he wasn’t prepared to wait that long, as I was woken very early Sunday morning
by the noise of someone’s finger pressed almost continually on the intercom for my apartment.
I struggled out of bed and peered groggily out the window to see a darkened and slightly frazzled Patrick standing on the sidewalk. I tripped over a few pieces of furniture on my way to the door and managed to get the right button to buzz him up the stairs. I remembered to flick the locks on the door and then headed straight back to bed.
I’m not sure what Patrick expected to find when he came barreling into my house a few moments later, but it certainly wasn’t me lying peacefully back in bed. He stood at the end of my bed and watched me for a long silent moment before I heard the sound of clothing dropping to the ground; and then his hard body settled on the bed, curling up against my back. His arms reached around me to tug me back into his embrace. I grumbled something unintelligible and promptly fell asleep.
“You are an infuriatingly independent and frustrating woman,” Patrick mumbled to me, when he woke later to find me leaning up on one elbow, watching him.
“Is that a question?” I asked sweetly.
He tackled me, wrestling me beneath him so that his body pressed naked and hot against my own. “No.” He kissed away any response I might have had. “Just tell me you’re OK.”
“I’m fine,” I assured him, and then I set about showing him exactly how fine I was.
“You’re acting like I’m about to break,” I told him later that day. He hadn’t seemed interested in leaving, and as it didn’t bother me to have him there, I wasn’t pushing for him to go just yet. What was starting to irritate me, however, was the hesitant way he was approaching everything. “I’m not going to run screaming just because we had sex, Patrick.”
“Really?” he asked, with genuine surprise. “’Cause that’s kind of what I was expecting.” He sat down on the lounge beside me. “You are so far from normal that I have no idea how you will react to a situation, and I’m not about to push you to do anything you’re not ready for.”
“If I wasn’t ready to sleep with you, I wouldn’t have done it,” I assured him. “I don’t do regrets; once I commit to something, I try to make it work in the best way I’m able.”
