by Kaye Blue
“Three months?” she said.
“Yes,” I responded.
“What kind of guarantees am I going to get?”
I tilted my head, put my hand over my chest like I was wounded. “My word’s not good enough for you?”
She scoffed, tilted her head to match mine, and gave me an incredulous look.
Despite myself I smiled.
“I guess I’m not surprised by that,” I said.
I turned and walked back toward my desk. I knew that retreat could be perceived as a sign of weakness, but I felt like I was close, very, very close to getting what I wanted, and I would sacrifice a moment’s pride to make that happen.
I could also confess that the space would be good for me too, some distance away from her and the intensity of the emotions I felt when I was around her would be more than welcome.
I found the papers I had been looking for right on top of my desk. I took a final perusal through them and then, holding the documents in my hand, walked back to her.
I extended my arm and she looked at me skeptically but then took the offered papers.
“What’s this?” she asked as she began flipping through.
“The first page is just another reminder of what’s at stake. I had my lawyers draft the foreclosure papers. All I have to do is fill in the date,” I said, not embarrassed at all about reminding Mia of where things stood.
She looked up at me, her eyes flashing, but then she looked down again, any hint of emotion gone.
“And this?” she asked, flipping the page.
“It’s the note for your loan. You complete your obligation, and I will release your debts. You’ll be free and clear,” I said.
Until her father fucked things up again, but I kept that last part to myself.
“And that will be it?” she asked, looking up at me from the papers.
“That will be it,” I responded.
She didn’t say anything else, and instead went back to looking through the documents.
She read each and every word, and I watched her, studying her face, feeling both on the verge of triumph and more than a little guilty about how I had gotten there. The guilt surprised me, annoyed me even more, so I shut my own feelings down tight and concentrated on her.
Finally, after some indeterminate period of time, ten minutes, longer, she looked at me and nodded.
“Okay,” she said.
I didn’t respond immediately, and instead watched her.
“You don’t have some kind of document you want me to sign?” she finally asked.
I shook my head quickly. “Maybe I trust your word.”
She scoffed again. “More like maybe if that kind of document got out it would be very bad for your reputation.”
“You think I care about my reputation?” I countered.
She scowled at me but didn’t say anything further. Then, after she took a deep breath, she reached for the top button on her shirt.
I stood still for a moment, shocked, as she unbuttoned one button, then the next, and when she reached the third I finally spoke.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She paused, her fingers holding her lapels as she looked up at me.
“This is what you want. Why waste time?” she asked.
She spoke with all the excitement of someone about to get her teeth cleaned.
I didn’t like the sound of her voice, the resignation in it. And I didn’t like what her actions said she thought about me.
“You think I’m just going to screw you right here?” I asked, incredulous, though the idea had occurred to me.
“Yeah. Wasn’t that your plan?”
I’d been distracted, my gaze centered on her fingers, but when I looked into her eyes, I caught the little glimmer there. It wasn’t playfulness, not exactly, but I sensed that she knew she had gotten under my skin.
Time to turn the tables.
I’d stayed a few steps away from her, but closed them quickly and came to stand in front of her as I had the day before. But today, I didn’t make any attempt to hide my open appraisal of her, didn’t try to hide the depth, the ferocity of my attraction to her. Instead I looked at her with naked hunger that I had no doubt she didn’t miss.
“When I take you—and I’m going to very soon—it won’t be a quickie in my office. That will come later,” I said.
She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. Like yesterday, I saw that faint pulse at the base of her neck, saw the way she, probably unconsciously, wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, one I couldn’t wait to taste.
Her brown eyes softened, had a heat that made them look like melted chocolate, and I could see the faint blush under her dark skin.
I had her.
Now to pull back.
“You have an appointment with my personal physician this afternoon, as do I,” I said, my voice now crisp, businesslike.
“Your physician…?” Mia asked.
Then I watched as realization dawned. “Oh. That’s probably smart,” she said.
“Yeah, probably,” I responded.
I pushed her hands down to her sides and then put my fingers where hers had been. Then, moving as slowly, sensually as she had moved fast and perfunctorily I began rebuttoning her shirt.
It hadn’t been my intention but the moment was charged. There was something incredibly intense, sexy about covering her up when all I wanted to do was see more of her.
That it had the added benefit of pushing Mia off balance as she had done me was something I also appreciated.
When I was finally done, I smoothed her collar and then dropped my hands to my sides, knowing that if I touched her more I wouldn’t be able to stop.
“I’ve extended your stay at the hotel. I’ll pick you up at seven for dinner,” I said.
And with that I turned and went back to my desk, careful to keep my eyes on anything but Mia until I finally heard her leave.
Eight
Mia
*
For the second time in as many days, I left the tall, sleek, sophisticated building more confused than I’d been when I’d come in.
That was definitely my fault.
Alex had been more than clear about what he wanted, and I had accepted. I knew why I had done it, and though I hadn’t quite made my peace with it, I was committed.
I still had no idea what was driving Alex, but in this case, it didn’t matter.
Whatever his reasons, he had what he wanted.
I nodded at the receptionist, who paused long enough to return the gesture and hand me an envelope, and then got into the elevator.
I rode down, but instead of going to the car that had brought me here, I again set off on foot.
Yesterday, the soothing activity of exploring the city, watching the people had been exactly what I needed.
Today I doubted it would do very much good.
Couldn’t, not when my entire being, mind, body, spirit, were engrossed in Alex, thinking about what was to come. There was trepidation and a lot of it. Alex had always been a complex person, and the years had only increased that. I would need to be on my toes to keep up with him, and I had to make sure I was up to the task.
Even more, there was curiosity, my undeniable need to know more about him, to try to figure him out.
And then there was the desire…
It was embarrassing how much I wanted him, especially knowing what he’d done, having no illusions about how he felt about me. But knowing that wasn’t enough to chase away the need he stirred. Even now, my body heated, my nipples pulled tight as I remembered his fingers against my shirt, how close he had been to touching me…
As I trudged along the sidewalk, making my way to the address the receptionist had given me, I shivered.
Not from cold, and not from fear either.
I didn’t want to acknowledge the reason for that response, didn’t want that reason to be true, but there was no denying it.
I was doing this
for my father, for the town.
And for myself.
That didn’t mean I had to dwell on it, though, even if I may have wanted to.
Instead, I tried my hardest not to and made my way to yet another sleek, sophisticated building and was immediately greeted at the door.
“The doctor will see you now, Ms. Marshall,” another receptionist said before I could even tell her my name.
She looked different than Alex’s, but only barely so.
In my mind, going to the doctor meant seeing the town physician who had been there since I’d been born, but this office had ultramodern furniture and ultramodern-looking receptionists.
I followed her, went through the doctor’s brief but thorough examination, and was on my way in less than thirty minutes.
The only things of note had been the two attempts it had taken to draw blood and the birth control shot that he had administered himself, but even those relative oddities had barely pierced my consciousness.
Instead, I had been fully enraptured, completely preoccupied with thoughts of Alex.
I’d tried my best not to be, had tried to force my thoughts away from him, at the very least keep them focused on what he was insisting I go through.
To no avail.
Worst of all, I wasn’t just thinking of him, and what we would do, I was anticipating it.
Acknowledging that sent another shiver down my spine, one that was tinged with embarrassment, but even more awareness.
I had acted hastily, had wanted to push Alex as he pushed me, and that was why I had begun to unbutton my shirt.
He’d turned the tables on me quickly, seemingly without much thought.
Even now, I could still feel the brush of his fingers against mine, hear the promise in his voice, one that I wasn’t sure meant he intended to pleasure me or break me.
That ambiguity should have been terrifying.
It wasn’t.
I made it back to the hotel somehow, and when I closed the room door, I slumped against it, my resolve and energy fleeing.
Was I really going to do this?
I knew the answer immediately.
I was.
I wouldn’t come out unscathed.
I’d looked into Alex’s eyes, had seen his pain, knew that this would be more than I was prepared for.
But I would go through with it.
I’d thought about Alex from time to time, had always prayed that he had found what our town had never been able to give him, that the sacrifice I had made had been worth it.
Circumstances aside, his anger, seething, impossible to ignore, aside, I knew there was no way I could have turned down this opportunity.
Also knew there was no way I could go through it unchanged.
All I could hope was that this would give me peace and give him some too.
I ignored the throbbing ache between my thighs, the feeling of anticipation that made me somewhat shaky, and made my way over to the bed.
I had two phone calls to make.
One of them would be easy, probably joyous.
The other, much less so.
I made the easy call first.
“Hello?” my best friend, Chelsea, said after the phone had rung once.
“Hey, Chels,” I said, smiling.
“My God. You sound horrible. What’s wrong?” she asked.
I smiled again despite myself, knowing I could never get anything past Chelsea.
“Well, I solved the mystery,” I said.
“From the tone of your voice it doesn’t sound like there was a hot, rich guy with a giant cock on the other side of that envelope,” she said, ending on a giggle.
I stayed silent, not entirely certain about Alex’s cock, but unable to deny the rest.
“Mia, you’re not talking,” Chelsea said.
“I’m not,” I replied, not entirely sure what to say or how to even start.
“Who was it, Mia? Do I need to come…wherever you are?” she asked, her voice rising an octave in alarm.
“No. You’re fine,” I said on a sigh.
“So tell me, or I’m coming up there,” she said.
“It’s Alex, Chelsea.”
“Alex? As in Alex, Alex? Love-of-your-life Alex?”
“‘Love of my life?’” I said, voice skeptical. “We were friends, and we kissed once or twice. I wouldn’t call him the love of my life.”
“Sure. You and Alex mooned over each other for years, and you never gave me a convincing reason why nothing ever happened. But you don’t need to. I can still remember the way you looked at him. I remember how awful you felt after…” She trailed off, and I was grateful that she didn’t acknowledge it and pushed on. “And I can remember how long it took you to get over him leaving. You’ve never been quite the same since,” she said.
I stayed quiet for a moment, wondering how I had missed it.
“Was it really that bad?” I asked.
“Yeah, Mia. It was,” she whispered.
That shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me, at least not with Chelsea. But I had done my best to pretend that I was fine, happy even, and I thought I’d pulled it off.
Guess not.
“Well, I’m not going to get into the details, but I’m going to be here for a while longer,” I said.
“How long is a while longer?” Chelsea asked.
“Three months,” I said.
I went quiet then, waiting for Chelsea’s reaction.
She didn’t say anything immediately, but even though we were separated by thousands of miles, I could practically see the smile as it spread across her face.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week, Mia,” she said.
“I wish I could say the same,” I replied, sounding glum.
“You know I was always quicker to come to things than you.”
“What the hell am I doing, Chelsea?” I asked, too exasperated to respond to her dig.
“Well, since you’re not going to go into details,” she said, leaving a pointed pause before she continued, “I can only guess. But it sounds to me like you and Mr. Alex are gonna have a nice long time to get reacquainted. That’s fantastic. And you should make the best of it.”
“Make the best of it?” I asked, even though I had been thinking the same thing.
“Yes. Mia, your life is more than that business, this town. I know you won’t listen if I tell you it’s time to start living for yourself, so I’m glad this has happened. The tires will be here, but this time belongs to you. So take it, enjoy it, and get Alex out of your system so you can get on with your life. Oh, have fun and make him buy you lots of shiny stuff and take you on amazing trips,” she said.
I smiled softly, loving how Chelsea was always such a nice mix of pragmatism and romanticism.
“I wish it was that simple,” I said, sounding glum again.
“Why can’t it be?” she asked.
I didn’t have a response, not one that didn’t sound impossibly lame inside my own mind, something that I knew would sound even worse when I said it out loud.
Why can’t it be? I thought, considering Chelsea’s words.
I was making this more than it was, allowing Alex’s emotions, my own, the past, to cloud my vision.
But none of that had to be the case. The bottom line was, whatever the reasons, I was going to get three months with the most handsome man I had ever seen, one for whom my attraction was undeniable.
Making the best of it did have a certain appeal.
“You’re quiet, which I assume means you’re seeing that as usual I am correct,” Chelsea said.
“Whatever, Chels. If Dad needs you at the plant…”
“You don’t even have to ask. I’ll cover for you. The place will run like the well-oiled machine you designed it to be,” she said.
Hers was the only word I needed. I knew I could trust Chelsea with this, and not for the first time, I was grateful for her presence in my life.
“Well, I guess I’d bette
r call Daddy,” I said.
“Do you want me to tell him?”
If I had ever had any doubt that Chelsea was my best friend, I couldn’t have it now. My father was seldom kind to anyone, and she had a much more difficult time handling him than I did. That she was offering to do so told me how much she cared about me.
“I wouldn’t do that to you, at least not yet. I’ll handle it. And thank you, Chelsea,” I said.
Again, I could practically feel her smile across the line. “You don’t need to thank me. I’ll be living vicariously through you. You’d better call,” she said.
“You got it,” I responded.
We said our good-byes and hung up. I paused for a moment, but only a brief one.
I made my way to my father’s phone number and called it before the will left me.
He answered in his usual, gruff tone.
I didn’t waste time belaboring the point.
“Daddy, I’m going to need to take a leave of absence for three months,” I said.
“What? You’re supposed to be back this weekend,” he growled.
“I know. But I just need some time,” I answered.
“You need? You begged me for this position, and now you just want to abandon it for three months?” he said, his voice close to thundering.
Ordinarily it would make me cower, but I didn’t have the emotional bandwidth or the patience to allow it to do so now.
“Yes,” I answered simply. “Chelsea’s going to fill in for me, and everyone knows what they need to do. The business will be fine.”
“And you think you’re going to get paid while you take this little vacation?” he said.
The implied threat was not uncommon. I knew he viewed money as his method of controlling me, his way to make sure I knew exactly who was in charge. Usually that pissed me off so much I couldn’t see straight, especially since I knew how much I did and what I was worth, but I ignored that anger, his disrespect. They weren’t important now.
“That won’t be necessary,” I said tightly.
Going that long without a salary would be rough, but I’d make it work. Just as I would do this for him, even if he’d never understand that, and certainly wouldn’t accept it.
“Whatever. Some of us have real work to do,” he said before he slammed the phone down.
