Show Me Something (Something Series Book 5)

by Aubrey Bondurant

  Sure, I could’ve used the time to start exercising or plan out healthier meals so I could finally lose those last few pounds, but everyone knew you only started a diet on a Monday. So, maybe next week. Plus, I needed to be busy, busy. Which is why couch surfing the television didn’t appeal, either. With things currently so uncertain in my life, I needed a distraction. And maybe, together with all of that, the fact I hadn’t seen Mark in the last couple of days had me knocking on his door across the hall.

  He didn’t disappoint, opening the door while looking sexy as hell with his glasses and tousled hair.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but uh, if you’re still willing to let me organize and file…”

  “Sure. Although you might change your mind when you see all of it.”

  He opened the door to what was a replica of my apartment minus one bedroom and with boxes everywhere. And that was the highlight, because what wasn’t in boxes were in stacks of folders placed on the floor, the kitchen counter, and on half of the lone desk against the wall. In addition to the desk and computer chair, there was also a well-worn sofa in the living room. That made up all of the furniture. I wondered if he had a bed in the bedroom, but most likely the space was full of even more boxes.

  “Don’t hold back. What are you thinking?”

  I walked further into the room, my eyes wide. “You can ask Brian. I tend not to hold back. And this—Well, this is a colossal mess. But it’s also a challenge. And it’s just the type of thing I was hoping for.”

  “Okay, but if it becomes too much or you change your mind, I’ll understand. You really work for Brian and only for Josh indirectly, so I feel a little awkward having you do this for me.”

  I smiled. “Why? In the end, we all work for the same company. Plus, it gives me something to do. I’d be eternally grateful.”

  He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it. “Okay. In that case, let’s get started in the bedroom.”

  Uh.

  It took approximately ten seconds before his face turned crimson, and he started sputtering. “I didn’t mean—”

  My laughter bubbled up. “Relax. Even if it’s been awhile, it takes more than a heap of messy files to get me into bed.”

  My playful teasing only served to turn him a brighter shade of red. His embarrassment was unnecessary, though, because after walking into the bedroom, I saw it was sans bed. But it did have three large wooden filing cabinets four drawers tall. “See? Now there’s no mistaking you really do want me only for my filing abilities.”

  This time he smiled. Perhaps my warped sense of humor was finally wearing on him. Brian and I could crack these types of jokes all day. Then again, my boss was like an older brother and not as reserved as Mark. Yeah—introverted people struggled to get me.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  He truly was adorable when he got serious. “Promise, I don’t. Now stop asking. I don’t want to bother you while you’re working, so let me know what time works best.”

  ***

  Mark and I agreed my hours could be flexible in doing the filing since my schedule would always depend on Brian and the office and whether they needed something first. But I was used to a packed day and didn’t think it would be a problem to juggle both tasks. On Wednesday afternoon, then, with nothing better to do, I used the key Mark had given me to go inside his office and tackle my first stack.

  Since the age of twelve, I’d always worked. I started by babysitting for the next-door neighbor. Thinking back, I’m not sure why she thought having a twelve-year-old take care of her toddler was a good idea, but at least my mom had been only one door down in case there’d been an actual emergency.

  By the time I was fifteen, I was bagging groceries at my local supermarket. And by nineteen, I was the receptionist at Gamble Advertising. That’s when I met Brian. His sense of humor meshed immediately with mine and I eventually made the transition to his administrative assistant. Although I’d been promoted to the office manager position a few years ago, I’d retained the responsibility for Brian’s administrative needs. Not only was he one of my best friends, but he was also low maintenance, and I enjoyed keeping him organized.

  All of this is why I viewed Mark’s office with determination. The man, although hot, was in fact a slob. This room could be featured in an episode of hoarders as the legal paperwork special.

  Deciding to help pass the time with some tunes, I slipped some headphones in. Meanwhile, I put the video monitor showing Tristan’s sleeping form in his crib in front of me, knowing it would light up if there were any sounds from his room.

  It might not actually count as a workout, but after two hours on my hands and knees organizing stacks of papers, it certainly felt like one. I was bopping to some country tunes, oblivious to everything but the task in front of me when a touch on my shoulder scared the ever-loving crap out of me.

  “Oh, my clucking God.” I ripped the earphones from my head and sat back on my heels, watching Mark’s face quickly flush.

  “Sorry. I was calling your name but then realized you had earphones in. Did you say clucking?”

  I grinned, setting a few more folders to the side. “Yeah, it’s my new adaptation of the other word. I call it mommy cursing.”

  He blinked twice, clearly waiting for more of an explanation.

  “Yesterday I said fuck accidentally while Tristan was listening. So I had to cover real fast, which led to making clucking sounds like a chicken. And thus far, it’s stuck.”

  Two more blinks. “What other words have you modified?”

  “Mm. I’m still working on the list, but shizzles seems to have made its way into my vocabulary lately. And I managed to call a woman that cut me off the other day in traffic a ‘be-ach ball.’”

  He threw back his head with laughter, taking me completely off guard. I giggled in response.

  At that moment, Josh walked into the apartment. He tilted his head to the side at the scene, and I guessed this side of Mark wasn’t typical.

  “What’s so funny?” He glanced between us.

  Mark abruptly stopped, looking embarrassed. “Juliette’s mommy-cursing modifiers. Guess you’d better make some notes for your little girl.”

  Josh smiled. “Indeed. I see you haven’t wasted any time in getting started on Mark’s files.”

  “Well, I didn’t have anything else happening today, and I kept thinking of this room. I figured with Tristan down for a nap, I’d get started.”

  Josh had an amused expression. “And Mark is letting you?”

  “She was rather persistent about it,” Mark mumbled, appearing as though he regretted his decision.

  “Don’t you dare go complaining after I’ve been on my knees the last two hours, hoping to impress you with my skills.”

  It took a moment. That space in time where you watch someone absorb your words and realize the expression on their face is not the one you’d expected. So you rewind your words through your head and realize what was actually said. “Oh, crap, that didn’t come out right.”

  Josh bit his lip, which I think was an effort not to laugh, and then cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m just going to, uh, not touch that one. Mark, you ready?”

  Mark, who seemed to permanently sport adorable pink splotches on his handsome face when I was within a ten-foot radius, backed up slowly. “Yeah. Um, thanks for working on this mess and see you later.”

  “Sure. See you then.”

  He couldn’t seem to get out of there fast enough.

  Again.

  Cluck. My. Life.

  ***

  It had taken the rest of the week, but Mark was now officially organized. Judging from the expression on his face, he could hardly believe it looking around his space.

  “This looks amazing. But how do I find things?”

  I led him into the bedroom to show him. “Everything is sorted by year.” I pointed to the four cabinets. “The far one is the oldest, and the closest one is the most recent.” I o
pened one of the drawers to show him the files. “Everything is labeled with a color for the year and then a bar code which I haven’t input yet. But eventually it will be on your computer, so if you were searching for the—” I glanced down at the file name. “2015 Cancun Hotel deal and everything related to it, it would be assigned this number.”

  “So if I input that name into the computer, it’ll tell me it’s filed under 2015?”

  “Not only that. It’ll also show you it’s the orange color code, file cabinet number two, drawer two. As you can see, all these folders are tagged with orange, and they’re in drawer number two. But like I said, I’ll need another week to get all of this info into the computer. Physical mess first, impressive computer online filing system second.”

  He walked over to another set of drawers and pulled one open, running his hand across the top. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t think I’ve ever had a system, let alone things simply filed. Thank you.”

  I beamed. I might not have a college degree, a fancy title, or an impressive vocabulary, but I was a filing ninja. “You’re welcome. By the way, the active deals, the ones that were on your desk, are still there, but now they’re put in folders.” I stepped back into the living room. “And this accordion file is full of miscellaneous stuff, mostly receipts. Judging from the majority, you eat out a lot.”

  Boom. He was blushing again. He put a hand behind his neck, gripping there and looking embarrassed. “I don’t cook much.”

  “In that case, if you’re interested, I have pulled pork cooking in the crock pot for dinner. Along with that, I’ve got potato salad and coleslaw already in the fridge.”

  “Do you make big meals every night?”

  “No. Mainly on the weekends. And since today is Friday, I’m cooking for Haylee and Josh, too. I don’t have many methods of paying them back for allowing me to live here, but this is one way. Oh, and I have apple pie.” Because if I was starting a diet on Monday, I was eating whatever I wanted this weekend.

  “Okay. Um, what time should I come over?”

  I couldn’t hide my surprise. “Really?”

  “Did you not mean it?”

  I shook my head. “No, of course I did. How about six? Does that work?”

  “Sure. Um, can I bring wine or something else to drink?”

  “I prefer beer but only if you’re getting some for yourself.”

  His grin came easily. “Sounds good, but it won’t be the light stuff.”

  “Thank God. See, I knew there was a reason I liked you, Mark.” I flashed him a smile and let myself into my apartment prior to going upstairs to pick up Tristan.

  ***

  He was right on time. It made sense, considering there was something about him that screamed punctual. When I opened the door, the blush which seemed to permanently stain his cheeks was already there. I wondered why he subjected himself to me if he was embarrassed before I even opened the door.

  Then again, based on the man’s fast-food receipts, perhaps any embarrassment was worth it for a home-cooked meal. “Hi. Come on in and pardon the Legos on the floor.” Tristan had been busy building while I’d been working in the kitchen.

  “Sure. Are Haylee and Josh coming down with the baby?”

  Oh, dear, of course he’d thought there’d be others here. “No. Sorry. Haylee went to New York this weekend unexpectedly. Something about needing to see her friend Will before he moves. But I did drop off the meal at their place for when they return.”

  And there went the deeper blush. “I wonder where Will is moving to.”

  I shrugged, not knowing a whole lot about Will except that he was an Aussie model who’d worked with Haylee over the years. I knew they were good friends and that his leaving had her upset. Appreciating how deeply this group cared for their friends, I wasn’t surprised she was sad to see him move away. Meanwhile, I took the six-pack of bottles out of Mark’s hand and admired the imported lager.

  “It’s not too late to back out, but you do sacrifice a beer.”

  He chuckled. “No, no. And glad you approve. Um, do you have glasses? I can pour.”

  Huh. Yeah pour. Not chug out of the bottle as I was about to. “I think there are two pint glasses in the top cabinet next to the fridge.”

  He poured while I brought down two adult plates and one for Tristan. I then watched Mark kneel down to talk to Tristan about the tower he was creating.

  “Want some help?”

  My son nodded enthusiastically.

  Mark seemed equally happy to sit down and began building him a castle.

  All was comfortable until three minutes in when Tristan said the dreaded word. “Dadda.”

  “Uh.” Mark had a complete look of panic, which of course put me into a fit of giggles.

  Finally calming myself enough to speak, I knelt down to caress Tristan’s face. “No, baby. This is Mark.” I then turned to Mark. “Don’t worry. He said the same to Brian and to Josh.”

  He grinned and picked up my smiling boy. “Are you telling me I’m third choice behind Brian, of all people? Tristan, we need to talk about your taste.”

  I was thankful he didn’t ask about the sad reason my son kept asking any adult male who was around him more than five minutes if he was his daddy. Tristan was desperate for a father figure. Wanting to keep it light, I took my son from Mark and put him into his high chair. “Time for dinner, handsome.”

  Turning, I watched Mark peruse the food on the countertop.

  “What kind of potato salad is this?”

  “Bacon ranch. And the pulled pork is the Texas type with barbeque sauce, instead of the vinegar type, which is more Carolina. Shh, don’t tell anyone, though. They’d revoke my state card.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t. Especially since you had me stop all cognitive thinking at the words bacon and ranch.”

  I grinned, thinking he was funnier than I’d given him credit for. “Good.”

  We chatted throughout the meal without any awkwardness. Mark complimented my food, and Tristan ate most of what we did.

  “He’s a pretty good eater.”

  I wiped my son's hands and face and then let him down to play with the Legos for a few more minutes before his bath. “Most of the time. I try to give him a simple version of dinners, but during the week we tend to eat a lot of breakfast foods for all meals. Especially when I’d come home after work. Guess you could say we both like pancakes and yogurt. Save room for apple pie, by the way.”

  Mark patted his flat stomach, which had me wondering what was beneath the Yale sweatshirt he was sporting. The distraction had me completely miss his words.

  “Sorry, what was that?”

  “I wondered if you’d had a chance to explore the city or get out and about Connecticut?”

  I shook my head. “No, but tomorrow I figure we’d make the hour drive to Mystic. I heard there’s an aquarium there. And, of course, there’s the pizza it’s known for.”

  He helped clear the dishes. “Just the two of you?”

  “Yeah. Why? You don’t think it’s safe?”

  “It’s perfectly safe. It’s a nice drive, too.”

  I dished up the pie à la mode and coerced Tristan back into his high chair for apples and a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

  “This is amazing.” Mark’s expression of pure bliss made me jealous of the fork between his lips.

  “Thanks. If ever I wonder why I can’t lose those last ten pounds, I can remind myself of this. I love dessert.”

  I glanced up from my dish to see him frown.

  At the same moment, Tristan splatted his chubby hand full of vanilla ice cream directly into his own hair. It was hard not to laugh at the shocked look on his face when the cold hit him.

  “Buddy. It goes in your mouth, not on your head. Come on, let’s get you in a warm bath and washed up.” I lifted him up out of his chair and put him on my hip. Glancing towards Mark, I made sure he didn’t think I was dismissing him. “Um, please don’t feel like you have to rush. I j
ust need to get him cleaned up.”

  “Okay. No problem.”

  Déjà vu when I brought out a now-clean Tristan from the bath and saw Mark in my kitchen doing the dishes.

  If I thought my attraction towards him might only be physical, he went and upped the ante by grinning at Tristan. “Are you an airplane?”

  My son looked down at his PJs and a laugh bubbled up from inside him once he noticed what I’d dressed him in. All planes.

  “Do you mind?” Mark held out his arms.

  I shook my head. Then I watched as Mark scooped him up and had him flying through the living room, telling him to stretch out his arms like the real thing.

  He stopped after two laps around the living room and put Tristan on the couch beside him. “So, about tomorrow and Mystic. If you want the company and a tour guide, I could come with?”

  Huh. “Sure. If you don’t have any other plans.”

  “I seldom do on the weekends, unless I’m traveling. What time did you want to leave?”

  “Nine o’clock too early?”

  “Nope. I’ll see you then.” He handed over my smiling son. “Good night, Tristan. Good night, Juliette.”

  ***

  I groaned at the state of my bed. Clothing was strewn everywhere. Why was I stressing about what to wear to a freaking aquarium? Of course, it was because Mark was coming with us. What was happening to me? Twice in one week I wanted to do more than throw my hair up into a ponytail and swipe some Chap Stick over my lips. As much as I didn’t want to believe I wanted to pursue something with him, my internal voice called me a clucking liar.

  Hearing Tristan’s voice calling for me, I realized my time was up. I settled on jeans, a sweatshirt and—you guessed it—my hair up in a ponytail. Scowling at my roots, I realized it was about time to do a touch-up. Deciding I was done fighting the inevitable, I swiped on my peppermint Chap Stick. Nothing said sexy more than minty, non-chapped lips.