by Anna Wells
Michaela’s entire body responded with heat to his touch and moisture pooled between her thighs. She flushed slightly, hoping Jordan wasn’t aware of her reaction. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was hitting on her. For all she knew, he was only holding her close so she could hear him above the noise. She had to remind herself that the feel of his warm breath tingling in her ear was merely accidental. She had better get a hold of herself before she did something embarrassing. Lately, and much too often for comfort, Jordan’s touch was making her react in ways that she just didn’t want to face; she had a sneaking suspicion that she might have fallen for her best friend or at the very least she had a wicked crush. She had to get over it because if Jordan ever suspected how she felt she was sure he wouldn’t want to continue with their friendship, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him. Trying to maintain her focus on their conversation instead of the feel of his hand on her bare back, Michaela responded lightly, “Yes, we’ve had a very good year. It’s nice to see the firm is giving a bit back to its employees.” To cover her sudden attack of nerves she downed a very unladylike swallow of champagne.
Jordan slowly glided his hand up and down spine, determined to get some reaction from her or some sign of sexual response. “You know I’ve known you for over year and you still don’t strike me as the accountant type.”
“Good, that means you still don’t have me figured out. My mother always said it’s good to keep them guessing,” she teased. The champagne and the feel of Jordan’s hands were going to her head making her suddenly feel a bit bolder than perhaps was wise. It was nice to pretend for this brief moment that they actually were a couple and to enjoy the delightful goose bumps that his touch had brought.
Jordan lowered his hand to her waist again, squeezing it tightly. “I think I have got that curly top little head figured out.” He looked down at her empty champagne glass and then added, “Since you’ve finished your drink why don’t we go dance?”
“Don’t you two look great?" A familiar voice interrupted their conversation.
Michaela turned to see her friend, Trixie Bloor, looking stunning in her full-length blue velvet dress. Trixie tossed her shoulder length sable hair over her shoulders sighing with relief. “I’m glad to see you guys. I was getting kind of bored talking to these stuffy accounting types.” Michaela smiled at Trixie’s sudden appearance. Eyeing her friend with envy, Michaela noted how beautiful her friend was; she was the perfect height, about 5’6”, and her body had the beautiful lithe look for which all women strived. Her deep set, green eyes always sparkled as if they held a hidden secret.
Jordan arched a brow at her comment. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you one of those stuffy accountant types?”
“You’re soooo wrong, I work in the forensic accounting department. My work is strictly fraud investigation.” She winked at Jordan while adding, “It’s cloak and dagger stuff.”
Michaela laughed. “Don’t let her fool you Jordan. It’s not as exciting as it sounds.”
Trixie’s eyes gleamed with mischief as she companionably elbowed Michaela. “How am I supposed to maintain my image as an exciting femme fatale if you keep blowing my cover?”
Michaela paused, as if giving serious contemplation to the question. “Okay, you have a point. I promise never to do anything to undermine your very exciting image again. After all, we chicks have to stick together.”
“And on that note,” Jordan interjected temporarily giving up on the idea of dancing with Michaela. “I think I’ll get you ladies some drinks. It looks like Michaela has managed to finish her champagne in record time. What would you like Trixie?”
“Red wine would be great. I’ll buy this round.”
Jordan gave her an inquiring look. “Isn’t it an open bar?”
Trixie returned his look with a pert smile. “I know that, it’s why I’m buying.”
“You generosity is to be commended. I’ll be back in a few minutes and when I do I want you to tell me how you got the name Trixie.” Jordan started to turn and walk towards the bar.
Trixie’s expression was serious as she responded, “Oh, I can tell you that now; I was a stripper and Trixie was my stage name and it just sort of stuck.”
Jordan stopped in mid-stride, his mouth gaping. Michaela held her sides, she was laughing so hard. Leaning forward she gently pushed his mouth shut. “Relax Jordan, she was just kidding. Her little brother gave her the nickname when he was learning to talk and he couldn’t pronounce her real name, Teresa.”
Jordan’s stunned look disappeared to be replaced by a look of grinning admiration. “You know Trixie, I think I like you more every time I meet you.” And with that comment he made his way across the red-carpeted floor to the bar, leaving the two women alone.
Trixie immediately grabbed Michaela’s arm, turning her so they were face to face. Her voice was urgent as she asked, “Do you want to tell me what’s going on between the two of you? I thought you were just friends, but you sure didn’t look like that tonight when I saw you together just a few minutes ago.”
Michaela tucked a stray curl behind her ear before answering “We’re just friends Trixie, you’re just imagining things.”
Trixie shook her head definitively, her green eyes skeptical. “Nope, I’m never wrong about this sort of thing. Something is going on between the two of you and it has nothing to do with friendship.” She paused before adding with a slightly hurt tone, “But if you want to keep it private I guess that’s your business.”
“Trixie, I’m telling you that nothing, and I repeat nothing, has changed,” Michaela insisted.
Trixie paused to consider that for a moment and then decided to take a different tack. “Oh well, if you’re just friends then you won’t mind if I ask him out?” Michaela looked so stricken Trixie almost laughed out loud.
“Well, I think that might be a bit weird don’t you?” she said as she brushed an imaginary dust speck from her red dress in attempt to look unconcerned with Trixie’s question. The idea of Jordan and Trixie together made her slightly ill.
Trixie smiled, her green eyes gleamed in triumph. “Weird? It would only be weird if you wanted him for yourself.”
Michaela grabbed Trixie’s arm and whispered in an urgent tone, “Okay, okay, I confess everything. I have a wicked crush on Jordan, but it’s completely one-sided so don’t you dare say a thing about it and quit interrogating me!”
“Honey, I haven’t even begun to interrogate you,” she informed Michaela with an amused smile. “Stop being so obtuse, I know what I saw and it was definitely not one-sided. The guy definitely has a thing for you.”
“I wish that were true, but it’s not. Jordan has always flirted with me, it doesn’t mean anything.” Michaela insisted, sighing as she glanced over at bar where Jordan was standing, wishing Trixie was right.
“Maybe he always flirted with you because he’s always wanted you.” Trixie suggested in her no nonsense tone.
“Look Trixie I appreciate your support, but I’ve known him for over a year. I think if he was going to make his move, he would have made it by now. Besides, I’m not going to mess up a perfectly great friendship because of a one-sided crush.”
Trixie crossed her arms and shook her head. “One sided, huh? He had his hands all over you.”
“Look, it’s just not like that for him. We go to movies, we go for coffee, we text or we do casual dinners. Nothing romantic ever happens. I’ve never even been to his house.”
“Has he been to yours?”
Michaela gave a slight shrug. “Yeah, he’s been to mine. We have a regular movie night.”
Trixie gave her a startled look as a laugh escaped her. “A regular movie night? You’re right. You’re not dating, you’re freaking married.”
Michaela shook her head in denial. “You’re reading too much into our Zombie marathons. I repeat he’s never made a move on me. He’s been nothing but a great friend. He comes to family barbecues, he always knows ho
w to cheer me up when I’m down and he even fixes my car when it breaks down.”
“Are you being deliberately obtuse?” Trixie asked, the disbelief evident in her voice.
“Believe me, if he’d hit on me I would’ve remembered, but he’s obviously not into me. Maybe he has a girlfriend he’s not telling me about.” She sighed. “He’s just an awesome friend.”
“I think we’re going to have to talk about this later. Your friend is on his way back,” Trixie told her.
Michaela jumped guiltily at the sound of Jordan’s voice directly behind her. “Your savior has returned with your beverages,” he said handing Trixie her glass of red wine and Michaela her champagne.
Looking at both women his eyes narrowed with obvious suspicion as he asked, “What have you two been plotting? You both look like you have been up to no good.”
Michaela took a quick gulp of her champagne hoping for inspiration. She’d never developed the knack for making things up on the spur of the moment. Her delay in answering prompted Trixie to reply, “Oh I was just asking Michaela what was going on...Oomph!”
Michaela quickly elbowed her in the ribs fearing the worst. It appeared as if Trixie actually intended to tell the truth! “What Trixie was going to say is that she ahhh…she wanted to know if I knew any single men I could set her up with.” Michaela almost sighed out loud. She was so relieved she had come up with a plausible explanation, although she noted Trixie didn’t look very pleased with her and Jordan’s eyes had seemed to narrow even more, if that was possible.
Jordan’s disbelief was immediately evident. “Michaela do you want to tell me what's so top secret that you almost broke your friend's rib over it?”
One dark brow arched as Trixie added, “Yeah Michaela why don’t you just spill the beans. We’re all friends here, aren’t we?”
Trixie, Michaela thought, had obviously joined enemy forces. The only recourse left was to divide and conquer. Tossing back the remaining champagne she grabbed Jordan’s arm. “Weren’t we going to dance?”
Jordan gave Trixie one more inquiring look and responded by shrugging her shoulders. Deciding he might have better luck finding out what the two had been up to if he had Michaela alone, he entwined his fingers with hers and led her to the dance floor. “So,” he said as he pulled her into his arms, “are you going to tell me what that was all about?” The soft lilting music of the live band swirled around them as they began to dance.
“It was nothing really, just girl talk. What are you a detective or something?” Michaela pressed herself closer to his warm muscular frame enjoying the unfamiliar closeness. The top of her head only reached the middle of his chest so she turned her face to the right, finding a comfortable nestling place.
Jordan’s hand reached up to Michaela’s head and he gently wove a chestnut curl slowly around his finger reveling in its silky texture. His voice was husky as he remarked, “You know I wouldn’t be so suspicious if you and Trixie weren’t acting as if you had something to hide.”
Michaela tilted her head back to look into his devilish blue eyes. She couldn’t help grinning. Jordan was like a dog with a bone when he wanted to find something out and she normally would confess all, but in this case confession could only lead to disaster. “Be as suspicious as you like. The conversation between Trixie and me was private and it doesn’t concern you. So just mind your own business.” Her tone was laced with humor as she enjoyed their good-natured sparring.
Jordan leaned down and whispered intimately into her ear, “You’re keeping secrets from me? I thought we were better friends than that.”
Michaela was so wrapped up in their dance that she didn’t answer immediately. Oh, oh things were just getting worse she thought. It must be the champagne that was causing the sudden warmth overwhelming her. What else could possibly explain it? Tilting her head back again she said. “Jordan, give me a break, I can’t tell you everything. Now quit talking and let’s just dance. I am getting a stiff neck talking to you like this.”
Jordan laughed. “Oh sure, use your vertical handicap as an excuse not to answer my questions. I’ll let you off the hook for now, but one way or another I am going to find out why you and Trixie looked like you were planning my demise while I was getting you drinks.”
Michaela gave a un-lady like snort. “Is that what this is all about? You think we were talking about you? Get that ego of yours under control. What could we possibly have to say about you?” She was definitely going to stick this out. There was no way Jordan was going to find out she was hot for him.
Jordan smiled in triumph. “Now I know you were discussing me because I can always tell when you’re lying. You’ve never been any good at it. You’re too honest.”
“Oh, shut up,” Michaela muttered in self-disgust. He was right, she had never been a good liar and despite herself she couldn’t help but be amused by his relentless determination.
“I guess I’ll just have to ask Trixie. I got the distinct impression that she’d be more than willing to share your secret.” Jordan informed her as he expertly guided her around the dance floor.
Michaela was hardly aware of her surroundings; the feel of his warm body against hers was definitely having its effects. While they moved together, Michaela allowed herself the brief fantasy that they were more than just friends. Where was the harm in that she wondered? She almost felt as if they were all alone in some private cocoon. Wrapping her hands around his neck she looked up at him and was treated to one of his ohhh-so-charming smiles. “I thought you said you were going to quit harassing me for answers. Besides you’re making way to big a deal out of this.”
“I said I would quit harassing you. I didn’t say anything about Trixie,” he said almost triumphantly pointing out the loophole he had found. “And actually I think it’s you that’s making a big deal out of everything. All you have to do to end it is to tell me everything.” His hand moved down her back to her rear. He gently squeezed her cheek with his hand, unable to control the impulse.
Michaela’s head snapped up asking, “Did you just squeeze my ass?”
“Uh, maybe?”
“Maybe???”
“Okay, but it was sort of a reflex thing. You know, we’re dancing and I just got caught up in the moment.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal.
“What? You squeeze everybody’s ass you dance with?”
“No, only the ones in red dresses with brown curly hair.”
Michaela decided that between the champagne and the closeness of his body she had no brain left to argue with him. Retreat was the only option. Ignoring his comment she asked, “Aren’t you thirsty? Why don’t we go get some more champagne?”
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough? We haven’t even eaten yet.”
Michaela shook her head and smiled flirtatiously as she reached up and grabbed his prominent chin. “Don’t worry about me I’m feeling fine.”
Jordan treated her to a doubtful look. “Okay, I just don’t want you feeling too fine,” he said as he guided her away from the dance floor.
“Point taken, I promise not to drink too much and pass out.”
“Go ahead and pass out. You’re so small it would easy to carry you out of here,” he told her in his most deadpan tone.
Michaela treated him to a glare. “More insults about my height?”
Jordan looked at her with innocence beaming from his blue eyes. “I’m not insulting you. I’m just stating the facts.”
A grin broke across Michaela’s face. “Well, in that case let’s go get those drinks.”
Jordan and Michaela passed the evening enjoying the complimentary food and drinks while spending what must have been hours on the dance floor. The event had the elegance and style associated with the Ritz Carleton and she and Jordan thoroughly enjoyed the atmosphere while they enjoyed each other. They shared a mindset that allowed them to laugh, argue and play together, and playing it seemed was what they did best. The party was so large that it served to isolate them, and
though they did a moderate amount of socializing with her co-workers, the majority of the evening was spent with just the two of them alone amongst the crowd. Michaela decided to throw herself into the fantasy that had begun with their first dance pretending that they were much more than friends. As the evening progressed the fantasy became more and more believable and the evening took on an almost magical quality. They danced until the band stopped playing and Michaela thought the Ritz staff was considering throwing them out. Neither she nor Jordan seemed to want the night to end, but the party ended and they were forced to leave.
Chapter Two
They grabbed a cab back to her place, and since both of them were in good spirits, Michaela invited Jordan in for a nightcap. As they entered her town home, hanging their coats in the closet, Michaela asked, “What would you like to drink? Coffee, brandy, scotch, more champagne? All of the above?” Her head was slightly buzzing from just a bit too much indulgence, but she would worry about that in the morning.
Jordan didn’t take long to ponder the question, “I think a brandy sounds great. Why don’t you pour us some glasses while I start a fire?”
“Yeah… cause turning on the gas fireplace is a lot of work,” she tossed over her shoulder as she threw off her high-heeled shoes and strolled through the living room to the dining area where she kept a cabinet stocked with assorted brandies and liquors. Grabbing a couple of snifters, she poured each of them a glass before returning to her living room. Jordan had turned on the gas fireplace giving the room a warm glow that was enhanced by the sand colored walls and cream-colored furniture. He was sitting comfortably on her overstuffed sofa when Michaela joined him there. As she handed him the brandy she said wryly, “Great job on the fire.” She paused before continuing, “You know this reminds me of the time I found Noah and Joyce in bed together and we drank brandy at the pub all afternoon.”
