“And? Have you sorted it out?”
“It’s a customs issue apparently. I’ve put in a call with them and they’ve promised to release it.”
“Good. Fine.”
“Was there anything else?” she asked, and stole a glance at the inviting dark space under her desk. It would be quiet there. Calm. No emails to deal with. No new boss staring at her so her skin started to overheat and she wanted to shed a layer of clothing. All the oxygen seemed to have disappeared out of the room.
He cleared his voice and she realized…no way…he felt it too. She bit her lips and looked up at him. His hands were still behind his back but he licked his lips as she watched. Was there still something there? She thought through what he had said last night. It’s up to you whether this job is painful or pleasant. Five years ago her time with Joe had been much more than pleasant. “Let me know how things go with customs,” he said, interrupting her thoughts, then turned and walked out the room.
Olivia waited for less than ten seconds before she was perched on the edge of Cara’s desk. “Okay boss, spill.”
Cara rubbed her face with her hands and eyed up the space under her desk again. “If I hide under there all day, will you pretend you didn’t hear any of that?”
“Not a chance.”
Taking a deep breath, Cara chose her words carefully. “We have history.”
Olivia gave her side eye. “No shit. And how about a future?”
A future? With Joe Diaz? Five years ago Cara would have crossed her fingers and hoped that what they had would continue forever. But five years was a long time ago. “We might have, once, but that time has passed. And now he’s my boss. Yours too, although if we don’t sort this African shipment out today, he might not be for much longer.”
But before she could pick up the phone to call customs again for an update, Cara’s eyes flicked to her screen. “Oh shit.”
“There’s more bad news?” Olivia hadn’t made it back to her desk yet so read the email over Cara’s shoulder. “Regret to inform you…Chicago…Measles! Oh shit is right. Who’s going to play Cupid now?”
Cara pulled up the file of possible candidates for the Chicago Cupid and scanned the list. She’d vetoed everyone except the guy with the measles but there must be someone else out there who could play the role. “Come on, there must be someone. All they have to do is listen. Give a gentle nudge in the direction of love. Take the paycheck, go home happy. How hard can it be?” But no one on the list jumped out at her. She made a decision. “I’m going out there. If there’s someone who can do it, I’ll find them. Book me a flight.”
#
When he reached the top floor, Joe turned around and did another circuit of the stairwell. It didn’t help. Cara’s face still lingered in front of him, her eyes wide, her teeth biting the edge of her soft, pink lips. God. So soft. He shook his hands, an old habit, to try and rid himself of the lingering attachment to anything. It helped, but didn’t delete Cara completely from his thoughts. When he finally walked into his office, seeing Richard waiting for him was a welcome distraction.
“Morning sir.”
“Richard. What news.”
“Chicago.”
Joe’s skin tingled instantly and the hair on the back of his neck stood up hard.
“Seems the cupid that had been vetted has come down with the measles. And Ms Reynolds is taking matters into her own hands. She’s flying out this afternoon.”
“She is, is she? Very convenient. I told her to pass everything over my desk, and instead she jets off to Chicago, what does that tell you?” Joe clenched and unclenched his hands. “What about our friends at the DEA? Have they found anything yet?”
“Not yet sir. Looks like they’ll release the African shipment this afternoon. It’s been scanned and there aren’t any other anomalous boxes. They’re going to let the Chicago shipment go too, but track it, obviously.”
“Right. Well then I’m going too.”
“Sorry sir? To Africa?”
“No. Chicago. I’m going to keep an eye on Ms Reynolds myself.”
#
“Sorry, sorry, excuse me. Thank you so much.”
Joe looked up and saw Cara making her way down the aisle. The last person on the plane, she should have been bearing the brunt of the disgruntled passengers who’d been kept waiting. But somehow, her smile was dissipating the animosity that had been flitting around him for the past five minutes.
It was the first time he’d flown cattle class. The first time he’d flown on anything but his jet in who knew how long. But if he was going to keep an eye on her, he was going to keep an eye on her. Still, he didn’t plan on squashing himself in with the masses again any time soon.
She stopped in front of him. “You?”
“Indeed.”
Her smile drooped and he missed it instantly. When she bared her teeth again, the smile was a shallow echo of what had been there before and Joe found himself wishing that he was a stranger instead of someone who had fallen into bed with her in the past. And her boss. Yes, there was that. He indicated the place next to him. “I think this is your seat?”
“How did you…? Why are you…? You know this isn’t a private jet right?”
“First time for everything,” he drawled.
She was flustered a moment, her face flushing, pretty, and when she did her nervous thing of biting her lip, he couldn’t drag his eyes away from her mouth.
Flopping down into the seat her hand brushed his elbow and when he reached over to pass her the seatbelt, their heads almost collided. Both of them froze, and, eye to eye, he saw for the first time that she was scared. Scared of him? Her eyes darted to his lips and it was all he could do not to take her chin in his hand and drag a kiss from her lips.
But she broke their eye contact and ducked her head. He watched her take a deep breath. “You’re heading to Chicago too?”
“Clearly. I heard there was an issue. And this was the only seat left.”
Rolling her eyes she huffed at him. “I’m not sure where you heard it from but I’m handling it.”
“I’m sure you are. All the same. I’d like to make sure. This is a big promotion for my new company. I’d hate for anything to go off course.” He placed extra emphasis on off course and watched her reaction. Nothing but frustration. Whether at him interrupting her plans or him generally he couldn’t be sure.
“I’m good at my job.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.”
She didn’t say anything else and the silence grew between them, but the cabin crew announcements took over and all too soon they were in the air. She tensed when they took off, he noticed her hands gripping the hand-rest till her knuckles were white, but he didn’t say anything. When the plane leveled out, she let out a long breath and her face relaxed again. “I had to find someone to look after my dogs,” she said.
“You have dogs?”
“Two.”
He nodded.
“That’s why I was late,” she added.
This was good wasn’t it? Chatting? Putting her at ease? “Have you had them long?”
“A while. They’re rescue dogs. Not quite sure what I’m going to do with them when I get back. They’re no longer welcome in my apartment building.” Her nervous energy eased and she bit her lip again, perhaps to stop herself talking.
They both sat awkwardly a moment and every fiber of Joe’s being was aware of how close his leg was to hers. If he moved his less than an inch, they would be touching. The plane jolted through some turbulence and he swung into her. “Sorry.”
“No, no,” she said. “It’s fine.” But her hands had gone back to gripping the hand-rest and the words barely made it out past teeth that were tightly ground together.
“Don’t like flying much?”
“When we’re up in the air it’s okay. I just don’t like the takeoff, or landing, or the bumps on the way.” The plane staggered through another rough patch and at a particularly large bump she let
out a little squeal.
“We’ll be there before you know it. Should I distract you?” he asked.
She nodded grimly.
Looking around he spotted a man in a black suit, his sunglasses still on and behind him a guy with a baseball hat pulled down way too far over his eyes. “So Mr Baseball Cap over there is a major celebrity from somewhere overseas. Big time TV star, one of those Scottish highland heroes who are so hot right now.”
That got her attention, she looked where he nodded and a small smile finally tugged at her lips.
“Only thing is he doesn’t realize that his show isn’t on cable here yet so no one knows who he is. He’s hiding, but it’s only making him look like Idiot McIdiotface.”
The snort was undignified, but he relished hearing it. It was something he’d always liked about Cara, she was quick to laugh, to find joy in things.
“The guy behind him, he’s in another league. Was security for the Russian mafia for years, now he’s undercover with the CIA.”
Cara sat forward and gave him a little grin. “Not very good undercover,” she whispered. “He sticks out like a stripper at an Amish wedding.”
It was his turn to snort and the people across the aisle gave them a look.
Composing his face, he lent in to whisper in her ear. “He’s a double agent. CIA operative, posing as Russian bodyguard, but secretly still working for Russia, and having an affair with the wife of a high level Texan congressman.”
The smile stretched across her face and he watched her look around for something to add. “Those two over there,” she said, nodding to a young couple ten rows ahead of them. “Newlyweds. It’s always been her dream to join the mile high club and he’s always said he wanted to as well. But now he’s having second thoughts. He’s nervous, see how he’s pulling at his collar. But she’s going to make him do it anyway.”
The thought of taking Cara in the toilets flooded through Joe and his balls tightened immediately. The turbulence had settled but he let her continue.
“How do you think they’ll do it? Her bent over the handbasin, or sitting on his lap?” she went on relentlessly.
Pictures crashed through Joe’s brain as she said them and it was all he could do not to kiss her to shut her up. Right then the seatbelt sign pinged off and the couple both stood up and made their way to the front of the plane. They stood outside different bathroom doors, but at the last moment, ducked into one.
Cara turned to Joe, her eyes wide, their green depths sparkling with glee. “Oh. My. God. I was only kidding.” She dissolved into giggles. Infectious giggles. When they’d both recovered Joe looked up, only to see Cara looking right at him.
“See,” he said, locking his eyes with hers. “Almost there now.”
“Thanks” she said, still not breaking eye contact.
The plane shuddered and jerked with a rattle of turbulence and she grabbed on to him. Practically crouching into his chest. It felt good. Great. She was warm against his body, and the smell of her hair filled his senses. Apple, with a hint of cinnamon. The same shampoo she’d used when they’d been together, it brought back memories of washing her hair in his bathroom. Of letting lengths of it flow through his fingers. It was so much longer when it was wet. Then he’d wrapped it around his fist while he made love to her in his bed and the smell of her shampoo mingled with the fresh scent of their naked bodies had filled his senses. When the plane had settled down again she didn’t move, and the smell remained. His body was alive with wanting. His skin aching to feel hers, his muscles taut where she pressed against him and in his groin, his cock pushed painfully against the seam of his pants.
She looked up at him, and her eyes held such gratitude, such longing that he couldn’t help himself. He bent his head to her, and kissed her. Rather than back off, she kissed him back, and their lips held five long years of pain and loneliness and desire. Because he had been lonely, Joe realized as he kissed her. Since she’d left, he’d been lonelier than he’d ever admit.
He kissed her deeper and she opened her mouth to him, allowing his tongue to dance with hers.
Someone cleared their throat and she startled.
“Drink, madam, sir?” The airhostess stood over them and Cara accepted the cup of water.
She turned back to Joe but didn’t look him in the eye. “Sorry. I didn’t…”
He interrupted her. “No, my fault, sorry.”
The mile high couple exited the toilets right at that moment and slipped into their seats, both a little red faced.
“We can just pretend it didn’t happen,” she whispered to him. “Like them.”
He nodded and tried to put his professional face back on, but pretending it didn’t happen was about as likely as the airhostess offering the mile high couple a congratulatory glass of champagne. And talking about it more didn’t help the ache in his pants at all.
6.
Once they’d cleared security at the airport, things should have been fine. She’d emailed everyone who had originally applied to be Cupid and got a few extras along with recommendations from locals. Joe had promised to watch and not interrupt her Cupid interviews. But things were not fine. The men who filed through the local church hall were a mix of hokey, hoary and hopeless. It hadn’t helped having Joe sitting behind her, making her skin shiver every time he cleared his throat. Eventually she’d thrown him out to get someone to find them sushi and coffee.
When he was outside on the phone she thought she might have found someone. But the wannabe Cupid ruined it as he was leaving. It had got cold and Cara donned her black leather jacket. His eyes flicked her up and down. “You should wear leather all the time. A lot of leather. It suits you.”
“Would a whip be optional?” she asked and when he grinned and asked her what she was doing later, she wanted to scream. These were supposed to be bastions of love. Men who knew the meaning of commitment. What they did in the bedroom didn’t concern her, but she needed them to guide consumers to make videos that wouldn’t be censored before they went live.
“Any luck?” She heard Joe’s voice before she saw him and as usual it did things to her insides that should have been illegal statewide, which probably were illegal in some parts of the world. Then she turned and saw him standing in the center of the church hall with coffee and sushi, sunlight haloing his head like some sort of dark and twisted angel.
“I’m not giving up yet,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I’m sorry. I know this is riding on your shoulders. Get the wrong guy and this could turn into one almighty fuck up.”
She did a double take. Had he just commiserated with her?
His shoes echoed around the empty room as he walked towards her. “Have you checked in on the set up? We could cancel?”
“No,” she said. “It’s in the city. At Macy’s. They liked the petting zoo thing. Especially because the animal rehabilitation folk at the zoo have come on board here. It’s too good a location to pull out. In Chicago we have dogs and birds, but also a pair of orphaned sea otters from the zoo, and the cutest dwarf antelope you have ever seen.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I think you mean the only dwarf antelope I’ve ever seen.”
Was that smile real or was she imagining it? Cara hadn’t looked at Joe, properly, since the morning, when she’d practically run off the plane and into a waiting taxi. They’d kissed. Kissed! And OhMiGawd it had been exactly like it used to be. Luscious and firm and nipple-achingly tantalizing, their kisses had always driven her to distraction, leading them to bed every single time. No part of her five-years-older body had been prepared for the onslaught of reactions his lips touching hers had brought crashing down on them. No part of her body, and definitely no part of her mind. Now, looking at him standing there, being jovial about her dwarf antelope and conciliatory about the lack of warm love-leaders in the state, she wasn’t sure how to hold herself. Folding her hands in front of her felt wrong, too defensive, and putting them behind her back made her feel too vulnera
ble. She tried standing with her feet apart in the wonder-woman pose, but that just made her feel like an idiot.
“So, what next?”
“What next is I inhale lunch and then I start all over again in ten minutes. I’ve got four more guys to meet. One of them has got to be our cupid.”
Looking at his watch he shook his head at her. “It’s almost four. You eat. I’ll interview the next one while you watch.”
“I’ll be…”
He held up his hand. “Eat. You’ll still be in the room.”
As she ate her sushi, she watched Joe drill into the next guy with practiced ease. The Cupid role was a good gig. Nice money for a one off thing, and for many of the guys she’d interviewed, that was the factor that had brought them here. But the guy Joe was interviewing was a different type. More like Mr Tsiolkas, he was older, a family man and genuinely believed in love. When Joe turned to her with both eyebrows raised in a question mark, she gave him a subtle nod. Until the last question.
“So, a guy wants to propose to his boyfriend of five years, but he’s nervous, how do you encourage him?”
“I don’t.”
“You sit back and let him take the lead?” Joe asked. And Cara had to stop herself nodding.
“Nope. Men shouldn’t go around marrying other men. It’s illegal for a reason.”
Cara watched Joe clench his jaw, she assumed to stop it falling open. “You know it’s been legal for same sex couples to marry in Illinois since 2013?”
“That’s as may be, but it’s illegal in my house and any house I’m a part of. Is that what you folks are about? Encouraging all sorts to get together so you can flog your rubbers?”
“No.” Cara stood up and walked over slowly. “This is about encouraging people to celebrate each other. To show their love and compassion for all God’s creatures.”
“Well I’m afraid that’s where we’re going to disagree.” He shut his mouth so hard it almost made a snap and Cara put on her best conciliatory smile.
Valentine's Vengeance Page 5
