Tara met her mother's gray eyes. She thought back to that day, the throbbing in her forearm, the fatigue and the determination not to be a wimp.
“You're right,” Tara said, blinking away the last trace of her tears. The nagged thought that Mark had been on the sidelines of that game, his support giving her the strength she needed, was ruthlessly suppressed. She may have needed him then, but she didn't need him now. Painful though this was, she wasn't going to let his rejection sink her.
Mark sat in the basement of his parents house staring at boxes. He was supposed to be sorting through his old stuff looking for books to take to his new place, but all he could think about was the look on Tara's face when he told her they were just friends. She was hurt, which he didn't like, but it was the fury in her expression that had gotten through to him. He'd had girls ask for more than he wanted to give before, but Tara hadn't begged. She knew what she deserved and she'd called him out for not giving it to her.
Why couldn't she just be patient? He'd spent both nights since he got back with her. They were having a good time. Did she expect a proposal already? It was nuts.
What he should do was cut his losses and move on. There were plenty of other girls out there who would be happy to take what he was offering, girls who wouldn't mind that he couldn't give more. But he didn't want them, couldn't imagine being with anyone else right now. He wanted Tara, that fire in her eyes, the hazy look that crept in when he was inside her. She was just so stubborn.
“Not making a lot of progress, are we son,” Richard said coming down the stairs.
“I guess not,” Mark said. He had opened exactly one box and hadn't even started unpacking it.
“I couldn't help noticing you were in a mood when you got back today,” Richard said, taking a seat on the basement steps next to Mark. “Your date not go well?”
“Who says I was on a date,” Mark said. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk to his father right now.
“Who is she?”
“Nobody,” Mark said. He hadn't told his parents that he was seeing Tara. They had held the way she treated him in high school against her more than he had. He supposed it didn't matter what they thought. It was his life.
“What happened?” his dad asked.
“Nothing,” Mark said. “I don't think I'll be seeing her anymore.”
“I'm guessing that wasn't your decision since you're down here brooding.”
“I'm not brooding,” Mark said. He realized he sounded like a teenager. “She wanted to move too fast, Dad. I just wanted to have fun.”
“Hmm,” his dad said, nodding. “Then why are you upset?”
“I liked her,” Mark said. Hearing it out loud he realized how true it was. He didn't just want Tara as a fuck buddy. He liked being with her. When they had sex it didn't feel like just getting off. He didn't like losing whatever it was that was between them.
“So you're just going to give up?” Richard asked.
“What am I supposed to do?” Mark asked. “Buy her a house? I just started seeing her.”
“Is that what she wanted?”
“No,” Mark admitted. “She just wanted more. She wanted to date.”
“Things must have changed a lot since I was young,” Richard commented. “In my day if you you liked a woman, you dated. Doesn't seem like such a big concession.”
“But where does it end?” Mark asked, running his hands through his hair.
“No one can know that,” Richard said. “But I guess it could end here if that's what you want.”
Mark frowned. It wasn't what he wanted. He didn't know what he wanted exactly, but he knew it wasn't for things to end now.
“I can't stop thinking about her,” Mark said. “It's like she's taking over my life.”
“After a month?” Richard scoffed. “Your feelings are that strong, and you're willing to let it end over a little thing like a label?”
When you put it like that, Mark felt silly. All Tara wanted to know was that she meant more to him than just a good time. Something special was happening between them and if he couldn't unbend enough to let her in on that, there was no hope for him, now or ever. He wanted to be with her and if that meant treating her like she mattered to him, so be it. It was only the truth. It was time to get honest.
When she got home that night, Tara ruthlessly set out to erase Mark's presence. She trashed the roses and changed her sheets, dumping the ones from the night before into the laundry hamper. The bottle of wine he had brought was only half-full, but she poured it out and put the empty bottle in the recycling. She even trashed the remaining condoms and her vibrator. She didn't want anything around that reminded her of him. The ease with which she removed all recent traces of him depressed her. They had really only spent four nights together. Four unbelievably hot, kinky nights, but that was it. Why did she feel like someone had shot her dog?
Determined to distract herself, she grabbed her phone and went for a run. Her neighborhood was well-lit and there were few cars after dark, so she felt pretty safe. She had barely covered two blocks when her phone rang, interrupting the medley of vapid pop tunes she liked to listen to when she worked out. The phone was strapped to her arm, so she didn't have a chance to see who was calling before she answered.
“Yello'” she said, huffing away.
“Hi, Tara,” Mark said. Tara stopped in her tracks. She couldn't have been more surprised if a Sumo wrestler had come running down the street towards her.
“Mark,” she said. “Um, hi.”
“I, ah, wanted to talk to you,” he said. “Do you have a second.”
Say no, Tara. “Sure.”
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You sound out of breath.”
“I was jogging,” she said.
“Um, okay.” There was a longish pause and Tara wondered what he was going to say. He sounded nervous, which was a bit of a relief. It didn't seem as if she was going to have to deal with the humiliation of a booty call.
“I'm sorry about earlier today,” Mark said. “I was just surprised and a little freaked out.”
“Freaked out?” she asked. That was not the reaction any girl wanted when she admitted she had feelings for a guy.
“I just want to explain that I haven't had a lot of relationships in my life, not the girlfriend/boyfriend kind. For the last few years I've stuck to D/S relationships that were mostly about sex and role play, and were never serious. I mean, I've had girls I was playing with get attached, but I never did.”
“Why didn't you ever date any of the girls you “played” with?” Tara asked. Did he not respect a woman who go off on being abused? Did he think that made her weak.
“It has a lot to do with my relationship with Carrie – my first. She kept things really...businesslike, I guess. We were never a couple, really. It was just about the sex. She had another sub, actually. A girl.”
“You were submissive?”
“I'm a switch, I guess,” he said. “I was really new to the lifestyle when she and I got involved and the more I learned about myself, the more I realized I needed to top. When you kneeled that night at the reunion, I thought you knew what you were doing. I thought you were asking me to dominate you, and I was happy to do it. I mean, I've wanted you as long as I've had hormones, Tara. It wasn't a hard decision.
“And then the morning after, when I asked you how you were doing, you basically said you had sex with me because we were friends. I thought we were on the same page.”
“It came out wrong,” Tara said. “That morning, I wasn't thinking about the future – I thought you were going home the next day – I just wanted you to know that you meant a lot to me.”
“You know that night in high school after we made out, how you said you needed time and space and I acted like a jerk?” Mark said. “I guess the shoe's on the other foot now. I care about you, Tara, but right now I need to figure my feelings out. I guess I'm asking you to be a bigger person than I was.”
“I don't know what to say,
” Tara said.
“Say you'll give me a chance,” Mark pleaded. “I want us to be close. This is just unfamiliar territory for me.”
Tara hugged herself, grateful that he couldn't see her. He sounded sincere, but she could still see his blank expression from that morning, still remember him telling her “relax and see where it goes.” This was very close to the same idea. She wasn't going to get played.
“I can wait a little bit, Mark,” Tara said. “And I'll listen when you're ready to talk.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“You're awesome,” he said, his voice soft, affectionate. It was how he might have spoken to her before they started having sex.
“I've got to go, Mark,” Tara said, deciding the conversation needed to end. “This run isn't going to finish itself.”
“Okay,” he said. “I'll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Talk to you soon,” Tara said. She hung up the call. Despite stern warnings to herself, she couldn't help feeling hopeful. He had called. He would try. It was a start.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“The visual is strong, Abbie,” Tara said, a couple of days later, examining the details of the ad layout they were reviewing, “but I'm not sure about the text placement.”
“I tried to lead with the strongest message,” Abbie said, “but it's too long. It just doesn't look right because the font size doesn't match the scale of the image. What we need is alternate wording, but nothing sounds right.”
“I know what you mean,” Tara said. “We may have to come up with something short and punchy to lead and use the strong message somewhere else . We definitely don't want to bury it in the blurb, and if we have too many fonts and sizes it could look busy.”
“Let me play with this one some more,” Abbie suggested. “If you could work on the text...”
“Sure,” Tara said. “I'll give it some thought. We have another week to get this one right.”
“That's it's, then,” Abbie said. “I think we've covered all the art you wanted to review.”
“Nice job, by the way, Abbie,” Tara said. “You always do good work.”
Abbie grimaced slightly. “Thanks.”
“What is it?” Tara asked. She knew Abbie was uncomfortable with compliments, but this was a more negative reaction than normal.
“It's nothing, really,” Abbie said.
“Spit it out, Abbie. Unless it's too personal.”
“No,” Abbie said. “It's just, I feel like I'm a little stuck, career wise. I've been in the same position over three years.”
“Have you talked to your boss?”
“Not really,” Abbie admitted. “To be honest I was thinking of going somewhere else.”
“Another marketing firm?” Tara asked.
“No,” Abbie said. “My boyfriend's an architect and I've been helping out with some small design projects on the side. There's a position with his firm.”
“But?” Tara asked. “There's a but, isn't there?”
“I'd be working for my boyfriend for one. I wouldn't report to him, but I'd have to work on projects with him, and that would be weird. And I'm also not sure interiors are really what I want to do.”
“Is there something here you'd like to be doing?” Tara asked. “I mean, if there's anything I can do to keep you I'm all for it. You're one of the best people we have.”
“You say that, Tara, but that hasn't translated into a promotion.”
“I'm not sure what that's about,” Tara said, but she had an idea. Jack was Abbie's supervisor. She bet the only reason Abbie wasn't moving up was that Jack wanted to keep using her talents to his own benefit. Any movement Abbie made from her current position would put her under another manager. That man was a menace. To think she hadn't seen it sooner.
“Are you thinking more of staying on the ad side or are you interested in marketing?” Tara asked. She had a lot more pull on the marketing side, but Abbie was so good at layouts staying in the ad stream would probably be her best move. She also had a good ear for writing, though. Her shy personality was probably not a good fit for marketing, but anything could be made to work when someone had Abbie's strengths.
“I'm not sure,” Abbie said. Tara had a feeling Abbie just wanted to get out of the situation she was currently in and after three years who could blame her.
“How soon do you have to let your boyfriend know?” Tara asked.
“It's kind of a standing offer,” Abbie said, “but I don't want to wait forever. It's kind of got me worked up. I'd like to have it decided sooner than later.”
“Okay,” Tara said. “No promises, but I'll talk to a couple people, see if anything shakes out.”
Abbie smiled. Not a full on, teeth baring smile, but it was obvious she was pleased. Tara marveled at how destructive one person could be. Talking to Abbie made Tara realize that she couldn't wait any longer to go to Phil and tell him what Jack was up to. The longer he stayed at the company the more damage he would do. It suddenly made sense why they had lost so many good design assistants to other companies in the last couple of years. Few people were willing to sit tight and be held back when there were other opportunities out there. If not for Abbie's sweet, shy and, honestly, self-doubting nature, she would probably have jumped ship too.
Back in her office, Tara checked her phone. She and Mark had started texting regularly again. It was like the friend who had disappeared on her over the past month was back. He texted her in the morning and several times throughout the day and for the past two days had been calling her in the evenings just to chat. The latest text included an image of a huge gray sectional and the question “What do you think?”
Tara: It's gorgeous, but are you planning to invite a football team over?
Mark: I like to stretch out when I watch TV, and you'd like to have room to sit when you come over, right? You could squeeze in next to my feet.
Tara: *When* I come over?
Mark: When? If?
Tara: If you want to go that big, I like it.
Mark: :)
Tara: Did you already buy it?
Mark: Yeah.
Tara: :p
Mark: LOL
Tara: Why'd you even ask me?
Mark: I txted you 2 hours ago. You know how I am with waiting.
Tara: I guess it's a good thing I like it.
Mark: They'll be delivering it tomorrow. You wouldn't want to come over and check it out would you?
Tara: Don't know if that's a good idea.
Mark: Why not? We could order take out, watch a movie...
Tara: Let me think about it.
Tara had thought about it. The attraction between them meant they would probably do quite a bit more than watch a movie, and Mark knew it. It was too soon, anyway. She wanted to make Mark sweat. He needed to know it would take more effort on his part to get her back into his bed and if they were alone together she wasn't sure if she could resist the temptation to sleep with him.
Mark: GTG. Cable guy is here.
Tara: Okay. TTYL.
Tara got back to work. She only just pulled a client file out of her desk drawer when Jack came to her door, grinning. Jack happy wasn't really a good sign. She schooled her features into a careful blank. His presence only served as a reminder that she needed to take action.
“Hey, Tara,” he said, stepping into the room. She liked her little office, but suddenly it felt too small.
“Hi, Jack,” she said, straightening up in her chair.
“I was wondering what was happening with that thing we discussed,” he said, sitting across from her. “I don't mean to be a pest, but I'm getting concerned.”
“Don't be,” she said. “I'm going to set up a meeting with Phil for later this week. I thought about it and I think you're right. I can't let this go on.”
“Great,” Jack said. Triumph glinted in his eye. Tara had to suppress a grimace. “Let me know what happens, won't you?”
“Of course,” she said.<
br />
“By the way,” he said, “what's happening with that guy?”
“Nothing much,” she said. “We're talking.”
“Well, good luck,” he said, standing up. “It's tough out there. Don't give up just because he's playing it cool. He might not be a player.”
“That's what I'm hoping,” Tara said. What a tool.
“See ya.”
Tara resisted the temptation to get up and close her door behind him. It would be too much of a tell. Instead, she turned to her computer and sent Phil a meeting invite for the next day. It was time to get this over with.
The next morning Tara pulled the sheets of paper that Jack had given her out of her desk and looked them over. By themselves they didn't amount to much, but she was banking on Phil's trust in her going a long way. Also on her side was the fact that she didn't have anything to gain personally by exposing Jack. She would tell Phil her concerns and let him take it from there.
At 10:00 am on the dot she went to Phil's office. He had a big corner office with large windows overlooking the city. It was quite a view. The fall sky was a clear blue with a few white, fluffy clouds floating in off the ocean. A yellow pool of sunlight warmed the carpet next to his mahogany-colored desk. Phil was a distinguished-looking sixty-something with a trim build. As usual, he was impeccably dressed in a dark suit and crisp cornflower blue shirt. He smiled at her as she came into the room and closed the door behind her.
“Closing the door, huh,” he said, jovially. “You must have something serious to discuss. I have to admit your invite had me intrigued. 'Personnel issue?' Not planning to leave are you?”
“Not if I can help it,” Tara said, laughing. “You know I love it here. But I do have something serious to talk to you about.”
“Shoot,” he said, leaning back in his plush leather chair. Phil's brown eyes had a spark to them that belied his age and also gave a hint of his sharp intellect. He had gotten to where he was due in no small part to being the smartest guy in the room time and again. It was one of the reasons that Tara trusted his leadership so much.
Fast Friends: Reunion Page 14
