by Love Belvin
I know I should have left.
I knew if I had acquiesced to her emotional needs, it would have changed the course of my life as I knew it because she would have expected me to be there for her moving forward. I knew that by extending myself to his sister, it would have meant, in some convoluted way, I’d be in Jackson’s world; a place I had no desire to be. More importantly, it would’ve meant that I would’ve had an emotional dependent, something I hadn’t had in quite a few years. Something I couldn’t handle. Something I didn’t deserve.
It all played out in slow motion.
I dropped my hand from the door knob. I heard blood coursing through my ears, my heart rate accelerated and my body acted on my heart’s accordance as I strode over to the side of the bed and sat on the floor next to her. I was angry with myself for staying. I was being weak. I had no business there. I should have run like hell. She was a kid who would somehow come into herself on her own. She would outgrow the self-debasing, self-inflicting, internal-mutilating, emotionally reckless stage on her own. This is what I told myself. Shit—I almost had. I may not have been totally healed, but I’d slowed enough to not hurt myself as much as I once did. She could learn the same.
Then what the fuck are you doing here, Elle?
“Go to sleep, Candice.” My words were arctic, reflecting my internal battle.
I felt a nudge. It wasn’t harsh, but certainly firm. I turned my head and collided with stark countenance, his cinnamon skin glowing against the morning sun. His amber eyes made my sex clench. Damn. This guy was probably the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on, even first thing in the morning. He roused my libido with one glance. Jackson wore the same clothes from the day before, but I could smell the mint from his warm breath. Breath that caused a lecherous pooling in my panties.
“Wake up, Elle,” he whispered gently, close to me. “You fell asleep.”
Huhn?
I peered up to see Candice, sleeping like an angel just as I’d last laid eyes on her. After surveying my posture, I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose between my eyes. My contacts were dry and limbs tight. I couldn’t believe I’d fallen asleep here, sitting up against her nightstand. At some point in the night, I leaned against her bed.
“She’s still sleeping. Come on. I’ll take you home.” Jackson extended his hand and pulled me from the floor.
I couldn’t help but take in a generous serving of his scent. It was spice with a twinge of sandalwood and musk; a heady combination to be awakened to. His virility, first thing in the morning was…so unfair. His gaze upon me was a miscellany of compassion, confusion, warmth, and irritation, which in turn annoyed me. But damn it if I wasn’t aroused by them all. His presence stirred something deep within, and I hated it immediately. I fought through my dizziness and followed Jackson.
As we walked out of her room, it dawned on me that I never made Candice hydrate herself the night before. I didn’t want her to have to suffer through a monster of a hangover.
“Ummm…give me one second to relieve myself,” I called out to Jackson on a whisper, who was a few steps ahead of me, nearing the staircase.
“Sure. Can I get you coffee or something before we leave?”
“Uhhh, do you have orange juice?”
“Sure. We should.”
“A nice tall glass of that would be great. I’ll be down in a sec,” I informed before dipping into the bathroom where I relieved myself and found proof of my arousal.
Damn it!
When I arrived downstairs, I searched room to room before I found Jackson in the kitchen, at the breakfast table, reading the paper of all things. He looked good and tempting against the morning sun that shone through the kitchen, illuminating its lavish features that I missed the day before Now, I was able to appreciate onyx stained hardwood floor, elegant provincial styled white cabinets, dark coffee stained island, gray and white granite tops with black veins, and coffee stained rustic beams on the ceiling.
Damn the Jones’, I want to keep up with the Hunters!
When he glanced up at me, I murmured, “Morning,” sheepishly.
“Good morning to you. I hope you feel that way later on, after having slept in the fetal position all night. Here are your things.” He pointed to the chair across from him. I nodded. “I have to grab my things and I’ll be ready, unless you want breakfast. Helen will be down to prepare it in a few minutes.” His tone was sincere, but there was no way I’d impose.
“No. I need to be getting home. Thanks though.” I manufactured a soft smile.
He exhaled, issuing another lingering gaze. It was at this time that I noticed the thickened stubble on his handsome face. Jackson sported a sexy scowl like no other, but it was also somber. It made me wonder what load he’d been carrying on his shoulders. We were not at work; he had no reason to appear so preoccupied.
“Okay. I’ll be two minutes,” he muttered.
Once he sauntered out of the kitchen, I rushed over to my tote, hastily pulled out a few Excedrin’s, grabbed the glass of O.J. Jackson had poured for me, found bottled water in the fridge and headed upstairs. I placed the pills, juice and water on Candice’s nightstand, being sure to keep quiet. When I reached the bottom of the steps, I found Jackson standing there, waiting for me. I felt like I’d just been caught.
“Just saying goodbye to the brat.” I shrugged.
He nodded, his glower intensified, and we headed out through the side of the house that led to the garage. I couldn’t believe the fleet of cars parked in there, all of which were luxury. Jackson directed me to the one closest to the garage door. It was a sports car, something I’d never seen. It was silver and really low, a two-seater.
“What kind of toy is this?” I asked with a wrinkled face.
“Porsche…Spyder,” he uttered with a smart grin.
Fucking men. I shook my head.
The ride back to my apartment was awkward. I couldn’t help but feel off of my normal schedule. By this time on Sundays, I’d be out on a morning run. It was therapeutic for me and kept me busy. I was glad to bypass the small talk, but I glanced over to Jackson, who seemed content in his own world, and that’s when it had dawned on me again.
“At least I’m not the only person looking like yesterday.”
He regarded me and cracked a smirk. “I’m going to the gym this morning before heading out of town. I don’t think I need to be fresh for that.”
I didn’t mean to ask about his schedule. I didn’t care where he was going. Did I?
“You don’t, but you should be in more athletic gear.” I quipped.
“I have clothes at the gym.”
“Don’t tell me—you’ll put back on those dirty clothes after showering at the gym and drive all the way back to Long Island.”
Jackson chuckled in the most manly, throaty rumble, sending chills zinging up and down my spine.
“Not at all. I actually live in Manhattan. So, I’ll go home and get cleaned up there.”
“Oh.” I’m now out of playful mode and recalling Clarice, swearing that she was at Jackson’s place a few days ago. She was right. He did live in Manhattan.
“What’s roaming in that pensive mind of yours?” Jackson asked.
“Huhn?”
“You’re in deep thought. When you’re in deep thought you chew on your top lip.”
How did he know that? Hell, I’d forgotten all about it. My mother would always chastise me for chewing on my lips. She used to say it would ruin the art of my face. I didn’t want to talk about how Jackson had a handle on such intimate habitudes.
“Bridgette said the meeting was at your home is all. If that wasn’t your home, I wonder why would she give off that impression. No biggie.” I shrugged.
“Because that is my home. It’s the home I grew up in. I still have my family there.” He tried to explain.
“Oh, okay. Dual residency.”
“Not exactly. I like the privacy of my apartment in the city, but I have to keep a handle on t
hings back at home, so I try to divide my time by staying there at least one night a week.”
A handle?
“Candice?”
Jackson’s head descended before he answered, “Among other things, yes.”
Hmmmmm…interesting.
At some point Jackson asked for my address and in no time we were pulling up in front of my home.
“So here is where you live?” Jackson asked after giving the building a onceover.
“Home sweet home. The one and only,” I jeered.
“Seems like a quiet neighborhood.”
I nodded. “It’s not a mansion in Old Westbury.”
“How did you end up here? Did you grow up around here?”
“No. Umm…I’m actually from West Virginia.” I don’t know why I felt so uneasy about this casual conversation with Jackson, but I did.
“West Virginia? Country girl needed to free herself in the Big Apple?” Jackson seemed amused.
“Something like that.” I couldn’t help my warming grin.
“How long have you been in New York?”
“Almost four years now,” I answered, looking everywhere except directly at Jackson. I hadn’t washed my face or brushed my teeth. It really wasn’t the most carefree moment for me.
“Did you find a roommate first and that’s how you decided on this place, or were you familiar with the area prior to your move?” Jackson kept with his questioning.
“I don’t have a roommate, neither was I familiar with the area. I took an exploratory trip up when I decided on the move. I was finishing up on my undergraduate degree and wanted to go straight into graduate school, so I narrowed my options based upon my commute to school.”
“Yeah, you are close to the action. You’re not even very far from the firm.”
I shake my head with my lips set into a tight smile. I gathered my tote in my hands.
“Well, thanks for the lift. I’m sorry I overstepped by falling asleep. It was an honest mistake.”
“Oh, no problem at all,” Jackson assured with wrinkled brows. “Thanks for putting up with my baby sister…I think.” He angled his head. “I still don’t know what common thread could have woven your paths.” He took his index finger and scratched his head in resigned confusion. “She’s too much of a pain in the ass if you ask me, so I appreciate you taking up time with her.”
I sighed, slightly exasperated. “Yes, she is a pain in the ass, but with a little TLC she should be fine.”
And Excedrin!
“Well, just in case she didn’t tell you, I’m telling you I appreciate your time—doing whatever the hell you did. Knowing her, it’ll all be forgotten within an hour.”
I didn’t want appreciation because accepting it meant that I would consent to doing whatever the hell I did again. And I didn’t want to make that type of commitment…to Candice or anyone. Deep down inside, I’d hoped she was the typical selfish teen that Jackson described and had forgotten already.
“No big deal. Thanks again for the ride.” I climbed out of his Porsche and before closing the door behind me, I murmured, “Enjoy your workout.”
I left Jackson with his usual soul-splitting gaze on me. I went upstairs and traded my soiled clothing for some with more elasticity before hitting the pavement for my usual run. I had a lot to work out in my brain. I needed to temper my inner storm. There were too many things to settle in my mind, namely my next step with Erika Erceg and Dale, and I couldn’t possibly forget about the enigmatic Jackson and his sister.
Yeah. A run would definitely assist with that.
six
The following day around eleven a.m., I was at my desk, surfing Getty Images and every blog I could think of for images of Erika Erceg looking what I believed to be her most fashionable prior to her even dating the rapper, Shirez East. As I printed them out in color, I became overwhelmed with which to use during my pitch to her; a pitch I was still waiting to hear when it would be. I was heavily engrossed, occasionally stopping to jot down a few key words to reference a particular ensemble, when the elevator dinged and the doors opened.
My eyes didn’t stay glued to the door, but in my peripheral I saw the exiting occupant pause at the front of the room. I glanced up to find a young woman with warm sepia skin, who could be no more than in her early 20s. She had long behaved hair that was clearly all hers, with the front portion pulled up simply into a ponytail while the back hung bone straight to her scapulae. She wore modest heels and a tan trench coat, falling just above her calves. The young woman wore no make-up, a natural beauty with only one notable ornament, which were her pearl earrings. Her poise was so perfect that she seemed idyllic holding a to-go bag of food in her hands at her waist and clutched her strappy purse.
“Oh, shit,” I heard to the left of me, and when my eyes journeyed over to the recipient, they landed on a jarred Jamie.
He didn’t regard me, his eyes stayed glued to the young beauty. My first thought was Jamie is about to get busted by his girlfriend at the job where he has at least two lovers and in the workspace he shares with one of them.
Jamie shot out of his chair and nervously shuffled over to her. My hands remained frozen to my keyboard, waiting for the drama to spill over. I would love to see how his ass would get out of this.
“Hey, Steph,” Jamie greeted the young woman, successfully masking his angst. “I didn’t know you were stopping by today. Does bossman know?”
The girl smiled—damn near perfectly…I mean, full-blown pageant style beam—and then ducked her head, coyly. “No. I was trying to be a little spontaneous.” She giggled out, bashfully covering her smile without touching her face. “He is here, right?” Her tenor was soprano with a hint of purity to it.
Jamie’s face morphed into a quizzical and dubious expression with his eyebrows wrinkled. “Let me go check,” he murmured as he backed away toward Jackson’s office.
Jackson had been holed up in his office all morning. When I arrived just after eight a.m. he was in there with his face glued to his monitor, and each time I chanced a cursory glance, he’d been engrossed in either that or the phone. When I looked over to his glass-encased office, the blinds were still opened and Jackson was on a call when Jamie entered. He glanced up and I could see Jamie furtively deliver the news of a pop-up visitor. Jackson’s eyes atomically flew in my direction, catching my gawking, then returning to Jamie. A scowl…that signature scowl appeared again. He said something quickly to Jamie before Jamie returned to the young girl in the hall.
“Hey, Steph, come on in,” Jamie gave a reverse nod, gesturing toward Jackson’s office.
The girl smiled shyly before raising her shoulders, dipping her head in delight and advanced toward the door. Once she entered, Jackson took a few minutes, presumably to end his call. He then stood and greeted her with a clinical hug before closing the blinds to his office, removing my voyeuristic abilities. Jamie then sat down on a sigh of relief, going right back to his “work.” I decided to do the same, considering I had nothing more to be nosey about.
It hadn’t been a full ten minutes before Jackson’s office door opened and out came the young lass, wearing an apologetic smile as she headed toward the elevator door. I watched fixedly until the doors closed for her dissension. My sight automatically shot over to Jamie, who this time regarded me with wide eyes as if something was awry. Two minutes later, Jackson bolted from his office, pushing one arm in his suit jacket while holding the same takeout bag the young girl brought in with her.
“Elle, lunch…now,” Jackson called out briskly. “Smith, your lunch…here,” he examined the bag with pinched brows. “Japanese…or Indian, I believe. I can’t recall.”
At this time, I was wrinkling my brows as I turned over his demands in my mind. I was tempted to let Jackson know he couldn’t demand my time, especially lunch. But he could. He was my boss. I couldn’t be a smart ass. And apparently, Jamie felt the same as he shrugged his shoulders, acquiescing to Jackson’s covert command of eating in.
“I’m on it, bossman. Just waiting on a call,” Jamie replied dutifully.
For a moment, I was caught up in Jackson’s authoritative nature. He was quick, confident, precise, and…dare I say, hot? I felt my breasts tingle and my thighs instinctively tighten. Jackson’s tall shoulders were squared with strength and expanded with confidence and undeniable masculinity. The memory of his columnar thighs, beating the back of mine. The recollection of his muscular arms, encasing my waist as he pounded into me while pinching my nipple was suddenly at the front of my mind. And this wasn’t eclipsed by the fact that he’d just turned that poor young girl away and took her food to give it to his subordinate. He was still very much attractive.
Cocky son of a bitch!
I snatched my blazer from the back of my chair after locking my desk. Then I stood, petulantly stomping over to Jackson, who was standing at the elevator waiting on me.
At the table, we placed our orders quietly. Once the waitress walked off with her lingering smile on Jackson, he brought his elbows to the table and tented his hands close to his face.
“So, how prepared are you for your Erika Erceg proposal?”
I gave a deep swallow and stretched my neck before asserting, “Very. I was actually tweaking it when you pulled me from my work.” I tried to neutralize the sarcasm. I had no idea what bothered me about Jackson. Whatever it was needed to be curbed, as he was my boss.
“Well, my interruption was due to my announcement of your appointment with her,” he murmured with stretched lids. Did I offend him?
“When?”
“Tomorrow evening. In L.A.”
“And you’re just telling me? I’ll have to make arrangements.”
“Your arrangements are being made as we speak. You’re a senior account manager now, Elle. You don’t perform such tedious tasks. You just stay ready to perform.”
I slowly nodded my head, taking in his words. In that moment, there was no conflict of who was in charge at the table. Jackson was in authority, all my animosity went out the window. I remained preoccupied as our drinks were being placed on the table. I ordered an Arnold Palmer and Jackson, sparkling water.
