“We certainly don’t want to detain you, Mr. Donlon,” Virginia oozed. “Since this is a personal family crisis my daughter and I prefer to keep it as such and can handle the situation without further assistance from a relative stranger.” Punctuating her sentence with an indifferent smile and haughty blink, Virginia summarily dismissed Jamie and turned her back. She looked from left to right, blaring, “I need a cigarette. Where the hell can I go for a smoke around here?”
Virginia’s tone of voice beat on Lyla’s temples like a cluster of tiny steel hammers. “This is a hospital, Mother, it’s a non-smoking facility. And, for God’s sake, apologize to Mr. Donlon. You’ve been incredibly rude after all he’s done.”
Jamie held up his hand and smiled. “No, your mother’s absolutely right, Lyla. This is a time for family and I’m clearly intruding.” He glanced up at Virginia. “Mrs. McGraw, will you be able to give Lyla a ride home then?”
“There’s no need for you to be concerned with my daughter’s transportation home, Mr. Donlon. And as for you, young lady,” Virginia said, turning a venomous gaze on her daughter, “I will not have you speak to me with such disrespect. Is that clear?” She closed her eyes, touched her fingers to her temples and let out an agonizing moan. Then she reached out to lean her hand against the wall for support.
No classic silver screen bitch-goddess could have done it better.
Opening her eyes just enough to glare at Lyla, Virginia moved closer to her daughter, furiously waving a nicotine-stained, maroon-enamel-tipped finger in her face. “There, are you happy? My head is splitting now. Because of you I’m getting one of my sick headaches again.” Disregarding the no-smoking sign affixed to the wall in front of her, she dug in her cavernous brown suede shoulder bag, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up.
“I had such a lovely lunch this afternoon with the Women’s League,” Virginia continued. “Spoiled. All of it spoiled. Do you have any idea how embarrassed I was today listening to the other women brag about their children’s accomplishments? This one married a doctor, that one married a lawyer, this one is going for her doctorate. What could I say? My fat salesman daughter chauffeurs people around who want to buy houses? Hardly. Now you listen to me—”
The raw core of Lyla’s emotions raged into molten lava, primed to erupt. Pushing her mother’s accusatory finger away from her face, she spoke through clenched teeth. “No. You listen to me for a change, Mother. I am not in the mood for your high and mighty crap right now and neither is Mr. Donlon. So just knock it off. Not only have you utterly embarrassed and humiliated me in front of my broker to the nth degree, but you’ve also managed to blatantly and unforgivably insult the man several times in the span of just a few minutes. I will not have that.”
Planting balled fists against her hips, Virginia said, “Lyla, you better—”
“Poor Mr. Donlan is probably so damned uncomfortable he can’t wait to run for the hills and escape this insanity,” Lyla continued, ignoring her mother’s interruption. “Once again you’ve taken center stage with your ranting and raving and ridiculously convenient headaches. For once in your life, Mother, how about putting someone other than yourself first for a change, huh? Remember, you’re here in the hospital for one reason. For your daughter. You know, Dawn, the one who’s in the throes of labor at the moment. And how about having a little consideration for everyone else too? Put out that goddamned cigarette!” Lyla snatched the cigarette from her mother’s lips and held it out to her.
Slack-jawed, and uncharacteristically speechless, Virginia snuffed the cigarette on the shiny marble floor. Without uttering another word, she sat down in one of the chairs in the admitting area.
Turning to Jamie, Lyla did her best to offer a smile, an act far more difficult than she could have imagined. “Jamie, I am so embarrassed and so heartily sorry you had to go through all of this. Please accept my sincerest apologies. I can only begin to imagine what you must think of me and my mother. All I can say is that I’m beyond mortified.”
Jamie offered his crisp professional smile, the one that didn’t reach his eyes. “No need to apologize. I understand.” He glanced at Virginia, who sat in the chair scowling at him. “The offer to drive you home still stands. I think it would do you good to get away from that—” He stopped short. “Eh…to get away from here,” he finished.
Lyla sucked in a deep breath, amazed that after all he’d been through on her account Jamie was still intent on being gallant and gracious. What a man. There was nothing she’d rather do than escape the situation at hand and leave with Jamie, but she had to stay. Besides, she felt certain what he really longed to do was get in his car and burn rubber to get as far away from her and her mother as fast as possible. She heaved a gargantuan sigh.
“Thank you. I really appreciate it, Jamie, but I need to be here. Dawn’s going to need me to run interference once she’s had the baby and they allow visitors in her room.” Lyla managed a weary laugh.
“I understand.” Jamie eyed Virginia again. “Completely.”
Lyla noticed his posture had stiffened, with all previous traces of a smile eradicated. In the time since her mother arrived on the scene Lyla had witnessed Jamie’s demeanor morph from congenial to markedly chilled. It was clearly understandable, of course. His demeanor at the moment immediately reminded her of his reputation for aloofness and professionalism.
“If possible, Ms. Lassiter, I’d like to see you in my office tomorrow at five o’clock. Will that be convenient?”
Ms. Lassiter? The formality struck her in the face like a cold fish. Oh God. This was it. Her days at Macklin Real Estate were numbered. Naturally Jamie would no longer want her associated with the prestigious real estate firm at his helm. And who could blame him? Drumming up what little pride she had left, Lyla swallowed hard. She straightened, elevating her chin and throwing her shoulders back just a bit for added confidence.
“Certainly, Mr. Donlon.” She met his gaze, almost shivering at its iciness. “I’ll be there at five.”
As he turned on his heel to leave, Lyla remembered it was Tuesday and her shoulders slumped. Her standing Wednesday night fantasies would never be the same. She’d never be able to summon Jamie Donlon’s image and recapture the magic without recalling his cold-as-steel gaze.
Chapter Four
By the next morning, mother and baby were doing fine. Megan Lyla Hogan greeted the world weighing in at a hefty nine pounds seven ounces. Dawn’s husband David called to say he was catching the first plane back from Seattle. Virginia was…well, Virginia.
And Lyla was still mortified.
After leaving the hospital, the rest of the day dragged for Lyla. The minutes ticked by so slowly she was nearly convinced time was inching backward. She just wanted it to be five o’clock so she could get the whole damned thing over with. Preparing for the inevitable, she organized her files and tidied things in her office for the next agent who’d be filling her spot. Probably some cute, savvy twenty-something with a pencil-thin body and concave little ass.
Having polished off her remaining cache of chocolate from the bottom drawer of her desk in the last couple of hours, Lyla gathered the telltale candy wrappers and stuffed them into her attaché case. No doubt Jamie was beyond disillusioned with her, she certainly wasn’t about to have him think she was an undisciplined chocolate-addicted slob too.
Filing away the last few client folders, Lyla paused. “Well, that’s brilliant. The man probably thinks I’m a closet racist,” she muttered, “and here I am worrying about him thinking I’m a chocoholic slob.” Ironic laughter bubbled from her throat at the thought. Jamie Donlon viewing her as untidy was relatively low on her current list of concerns.
Jamie. She breathed a wistful mmmmm at the idea of his name. He hadn’t been in the office all day. As she clock-watched she’d been torn between wishing it could all be over with, pronto, versus silently skipping out. She’d give anything to avoid facing that gorgeous specimen of manhood as he coolly explained her
services were no longer needed at Macklin Real Estate.
Plopping down in her black and gray tweed swivel armchair, Lyla indulged in another sigh. She’d been breathing out tuneful sighs most of the day. Well, she’d intended it as a sigh but this last one sounded closer to the call of a lovesick moose. Recalling her dream of the night before, she rubbed the goose bumps from her arms. Like most other nights, she dreamed of Jamie, except this time, instead of the two of them wrapped in a passionate clench, Jamie glared at her with undisguised loathing. You’re a bigot with thunder thighs, he’d accused in the dream. And there’s no place for your kind here. With that, Jamie cruelly snatched away her precious Power Surge 3000 vibrator, broke it over his knee and gave a swift kick to her elephantine ass, booting her out of the office and out of his life, forever.
“Thank you. Thank you very much, Mother,” Lyla ground out through a sneer.
“Hey, who are you talking to?”
Startled, Lyla looked up to see Barbara Crawford—otherwise known as Barbie the Barracuda—popping her head into Lyla’s office. The woman boasted the kind of smarmy smile that said she’d just stabbed another poor unsuspecting sap in the back, finishing with a gleeful twist of the knife.
“Nobody.” Lyla gave a dismissive wave. “Just talking to the voices in my head.” She made a sorry attempt at laughter.
Leaning against the doorjamb, Barbara nodded. “I know what you mean. I do it all the time myself. You’re looking kind of puffy, Lyla.” Bony Barbara gave a helpful clarification by poofing out her cheeks. “That time of month?”
Lyla’s eyes skimmed Barbara’s apparel—an eggplant silk designer pantsuit with tight slacks hugging her impossibly thin body. “No, Barbara, I don’t have my period, I’m just fat,” Lyla answered with a saccharine smile, noting that one of Barbara’s thighs were probably about as big as Lyla’s upper arm.
“Well, it’s no secret why now, is it?” Barbara wagged a chastising finger. “Gotta lay off those Snickers, Lyla.” She winked and Lyla followed the woman’s eagle-eyed gaze to the single empty candy wrapper peeking out of Lyla’s attaché case.
Skinny bitch.
“Say, have you seen Mr. TDH yet today?”
“Nope,” Lyla answered, all too familiar with the abbreviation for Barbara’s pet name for Jamie, Mr. Tall, Dark and Hunkalicious. “Why? Having a problem with a sale?”
“Me? Hardly.” A revealing smile spread across Barbara’s cheeks. “No, I just wanted to put an end to my misery…my deep, deep ache, if you get my drift.”
Even though Lyla’s brain was muddied with her personal problems, it registered that Barbara wasn’t making any sense. “Huh?”
“Today’s the day I stake my claim,” Barbara announced in a scheming whisper as she stepped in and closed Lyla’s door, flooding the small office with her strong perfume. “I finagled a pair of tickets to Buoy Me Up, the hottest musical downtown, and I’m asking Jamie to take me.”
Lyla felt herself slump in her chair. Perfect. The veritable icing on the cake. Of all the people in the world to end up with Jamie Donlon, Barbara would be Lyla’s last choice. Aside from being a toothpick, the woman was bitchy, selfish, catty and had a reputation for eating other sales agents alive if they got in the way of a sale—or if she didn’t feel they treated her with the proper respect. And those were just her positive traits.
“I’d say wish me luck,” Barbara continued, a look of smug assurance etched across her face, “but it’s not really necessary. I can tell TDH has had his eye on me from the start. And wait ’til he gets a load of these,” she said, unbuttoning her jacket to reveal what appeared to be Barbara’s skin stretched over a pair of cantaloupes barely contained by a straining purple bra. “I just got them last month in L.A. Paid a fortune for them. Of course, they would have cost a lot more if I hadn’t charmed my doctor into a little discount, if you know what I mean.” She growled out a low heh, heh, heh. “So? What do you think?” Barbara thrust her spanking new breasts out, brandishing them about as she patted them like good puppies.
I think it’s a medical miracle that your lollipop-stick body doesn’t topple over under the weight of those honkers. “Oh…great,” Lyla said. “You look just…great, Barbara. Very impressive.” What the hell was an appropriate response when a coworker modeled her new tits the way other women showed off their latest designer shoes?
“I’ll let you know what flavor Mr. TDH is after I’ve had a mouthful,” Barbara cooed. Tossing off another wink, she bared her teeth in a too-wide grin and left the office, closing the door behind her.
“I’ll let you know what flavor he is after I’ve had a mouthful,” Lyla mimicked beneath her breath in a childish tone. “Maybe I would have had more success with Jamie if I’d taken a crash course in crudeness from Barbara,” she mused.
The sounds of a few sales agents and clients milling about the office caught her attention. She rose from her chair, crossing the room to lock the door. The last thing in the world she needed was another interruption. And she certainly didn’t feel like making small talk. “Hi, Lyla, what’s new?” she mumbled to herself. “Well, let’s see…there’s Barbie’s new gravity-defying tits, of course. Aren’t they divine? And, oh yeah, Jamie’s firing my ass from the company and his life today. Gee, aside from that, not much.” With a nonchalant wave of her hand she huffed a humorless laugh and glanced at the clock again. Twelve more minutes. From her office window she glimpsed Jamie exiting his BMW and heading for the office. She sucked in a sharp breath.
Her gaze registered the fact that it never took more than a quick peek at Jamie’s ultra-fine form to set her heart on high speed. The threat of tears stung her eyes with the realization that this was probably the last time she’d ever see him again, except for in her dreams.
“Oh hell, would you look at that,” Lyla muttered, tsking. What a pity her last look at Jamie had to be marred by the sight of Barbie the Barracuda dashing out to meet him. Lyla watched as Barbara looped her arm through his. “Shit. She’s turning it on full steam,” Lyla said as she observed Barbie’s eyelashes batting and her jaw flapping a mile a minute. Of course, her big balloon breasts accidentally bumped against him repeatedly as they strolled toward the building at a leisurely pace. Lyla could see that Jamie was smiling. Maybe Barbie was telling him how she wanted to get a mouthful.
Craning her neck, Lyla watched until they disappeared into the building. Again she glanced at the clock. Nine minutes. Plenty of time for Barbie’s tongue to work a little oral magic on Jamie’s three-piece package.
Tick tock, tick tock… Four fifty-nine. Knees rattling, Lyla knocked on the closed door to Jamie’s office precisely at five. She noticed the blinds were drawn on the windows. Maybe Barbara was still in there giving him a quickie preview of her shiny new tits. Or maybe Jamie closed the blinds to spare Lyla the humiliation of having those left in the office gawking while she was being unceremoniously canned.
“Come in.”
The deep, familiar voice set her insides aquiver. Steadying her breathing, Lyla drew in a final deep gulp of air before entering Jamie’s office. She was immensely glad not to see Barbara there, although she could smell traces of her stinky perfume.
“You asked to see me at five o’clock, Jam—Mr. Donlon.”
Jamie glanced up from the file folder he held. He didn’t seem to have the dazed-eyed look of a man who’d just been treated to a blowjob, so that was good. Lyla would really rather not have Jamie’s thoughts lingering on Barbara’s slick tongue acrobatics while he was firing her.
Without even the hint of a smile Jamie said, “Yes. Close and lock the door behind you so we won’t be disturbed.” He finished jotting some notes then rose from his seat and walked around to the front of his large oak desk. Slow, quiet, deliberate steps, like a lion on the prowl. The sensuous way he moved had Lyla longing to stroke every inch of his body with her hands, her breasts, her tongue. Fat chance she’d have of doing that now.
Resting his hands on the desktop behind h
im for what seemed an eternity, Jamie just stood there staring at her. His eyes on her made her feel warm and wiggly but she stood still, determined to maintain her professionalism to the last. It was about all she had left.
“Uh…should I sit down?” Lyla asked, slicing into the awkward silence. She got a whiff of his musky aftershave and, dammit all to hell, felt her pussy trickle with a throbbing ache of need. That eager depository between her thighs clearly had a mind of its own. This was going to be harder than she thought.
“You don’t even have a clue what you’ve done to me, do you?” Jamie asked, his gaze becoming even more intense.
Oh shit, he certainly wasn’t going to make this any easier for her. “Well, yes,” she squeaked and then cleared her throat. “Yes, Jamie, I think I do, actually. I fully realize how humiliating it—”
In a sudden flurry of motion Jamie was at her side. Hauling Lyla hard against his chest, he captured her lips in a demanding kiss. Eyes wide, she barely had time to register amazement before he sucked her tongue into his mouth. He kissed her so deeply, so hungrily, she thought she’d died and gone to heaven. Luxuriating in the sensation of his solid body mashed against her, Lyla went breathless and weak with longing.
A low, drawn-out groan rumbled from deep within Jamie’s chest as his hands slid down her back and took hold of her ass. Every nerve ending in Lyla’s body tingled to life. Jamie’s unmistakable erection pressed insistently against her belly. Blissfully lost and all but senseless in the unexpected turn of events, she moaned, rubbing herself against him, kissing him back with everything she had. Lyla actually wondered for an instant if she was really there with him and not asleep at her desk, caught up in the midst of one of her fanciful dreams. Damn, if this was a dream she never wanted to wake up.
Stroking his fingers through her shoulder-length hair, Jamie whispered Lyla’s name against her ear. Dazed with desire, her knees went weak, literally. She felt Jamie’s strong hands grasping her tightly to steady her.
Wednesday Nights With Jamie Page 4
