Light Me Up

by Isabel Sharpe

  “Yeah, Seth. It is. And I truly feel for you. But I have finally figured out that while I adore you, I want someone who isn’t scared of his feelings. Who not only thinks I’m amazing, but has the balls to tell me so, and who, without hesitation, commits himself to figuring out what we can have together.”

  There. She’d done it. All she had to do was start, and once she did, the words rolled out as if they’d been cooped up inside her head for years, just waiting to emerge.

  Which they had been.

  “Yeah. Okay.” He looked stunned, his cocky confidence deflated.

  Bonnie’s heart ached for him, her tears rose again, but she also felt more powerful than she had in months, maybe years, probably since the year they’d been together in college, starting to get serious, and she’d first sensed him drawing away from her.

  “You’re right. You do deserve that.” He nodded slowly, brows drawn down, eyes shadowed, looking so unbearably handsome she felt as if her heart was trying to rip itself out of her chest. “I hope you find it.”

  Bonnie’s turn to be stunned. More pain. As if after everything she’d been through and all her new resolve, a stupid part of her still hoped hearing that she was looking for someone else would somehow push him to—

  No. She knew better. And she also knew her heart couldn’t sink any further because it had already sunk as low as possible. Seth was turning her loose. Whether for her sake or his, it didn’t matter. They were on their way to being truly over. This would hurt more later, she knew. And she also knew the pain was an important part of the healing.

  “So.” Seth rolled his shoulders convulsively, as if shaking off the silly inconvenience of losing her forever. “I might be able to help you.”

  Her eyes widened incredulously. “Help me date?”

  “Uh, no, thanks.” He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “Help you with your financial situation. A...friend wants to start a perfume shop. Maybe she could rent out a corner of the store. Help you out, help her out. You’d have the whole smell-good thing in common. Maybe you could do some marketing along those lines.”

  “Wow.” Despite her misery, a ray of hope. Rent income would be fabulous. But something about the way he’d said friend set off alarm bells. “That is really sweet of you, Seth. Who is she?”

  “She’s...” He coughed uncomfortably. “I met her, uh...recently.”

  Bonnie grew very, very still. She knew this man way too well. He was sleeping with her. Or wanted to.

  The bastard. Of course he was fine cutting Bonnie loose. Of course it was fine if she dated other people. He had someone new, someone he was trying to get in good with by giving her space in Bonnie’s shop.

  How effing low could he go?

  “Really?” She spoke sweetly. His eyes grew wary. He knew her way too well, also. “How recently?”

  “Last week. At Noc Noc.” His favorite dance and pickup spot. Full to the brim with willing, nubile hotties.

  “Yeah?” She kept the sweet tone going, hot rage building in her blood. “She good in bed?”

  Seth’s jaw dropped. “What—”

  “Did it not occur to you how I would feel to have some woman you were dating set up in my shop?” She was past rage, past sanity. Grief and frustration were channeling words to her vocal cords before she had a chance to monitor them. “Were you planning to come by and make out with her every day in front of me so I could enjoy the view?”

  He stepped closer, not backing down an inch. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “‘Go ahead and date someone, Bonnie, really, go right ahead. Because I just happen to have this new piece of ass I can—’”

  “Stop.” He grabbed her shoulders. “Right there. Stop. Listen to yourself.”

  She was panting, struggling, out of her mind. “Let go.”

  “No. You think the worst of me every chance you get, Bonnie. Look at all that crap you just came up with, boom, off the top of your head. You didn’t give me a chance to explain, didn’t even let me finish a freaking sentence. You think I keep you at a distance? What’s more convenient to help you do the same than telling yourself over and over that I’m the world’s biggest jerk?”

  Bonnie froze. His words stopped her like a sucker punch. She shook her head, unable to respond.

  “Listen to me.” His voice and his hold on her gentled. “I’m not involved with Matti. I have no desire to be. My only interest in her is how she can help you out of your financial situation.”

  Oh, Seth. Bonnie looked into his eyes, conscious that hers were probably swollen and streaming, and that she could give Rudolph nose-envy. She was dying to believe him, even knowing it couldn’t change anything between them.

  Seth looked back at her, direct, unwavering. He was telling the truth.

  Oh, God. He was right to be angry. But look how quickly and easily she’d jumped to conclusions. Without trust, there was no chance for a relationship.

  “Seth, I’m sorry.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” He nodded once, then again, his body relaxing. “It’s okay.”

  “No, no.” She put a hand to his chest, lips twitching. This was a game they’d played before. Silly, but it had always helped them come down from tough fights, of which there had been many. “You don’t understand. I’m really sorry.”

  “No, no.” A small grin started on his sexy lips. “It’s really okay.”

  “Seth, I’m not sure I’m making myself clear.” She felt a bubble of laughter rising, the giddy relief that came after an argument was safely over. “What I’m trying to say is that I am so very completely and utterly sorry. Does that make more sense?”

  He grinned and pulled her into his arms, a brotherly bear hug. “All forgotten.”

  She let herself relax, found the spot on his shoulder where her head lay so perfectly. This was goodbye and they both knew it. When he left the room, she’d finish her email to Mercer533, and, if nothing happened there, she’d try someone else. She was young, decent-looking, fun—someone would work out, at least long enough to get her heart in a better place, away from Seth, so she could finally find Mr. Right. She really needed to do this, and having Seth’s blessing was an important piece of it.

  His arms moved, one draped across her shoulders, one slid across her back, fitting her to him. His body was strong and utterly familiar. They’d had quick careful hugs along the way since their breakup, but she hadn’t had the chance to remember his body like this in a long, long time.

  Slowly, and maybe inevitably, the embrace began to change. Had he shifted? Had she? Were their bodies taking over, sending each other the signals their brains wouldn’t dare to with so much crap having passed under their bridge?

  She started to pull back; his arms held her still. His chin moved to her forehead and she felt his lips at her hairline.

  Seth. She was so hungry for him, for his mouth, for his body. But she couldn’t do this. This was goodbye for them, hello to a fresh start, a new man, a new lease on her romantic life.

  His lips moved to her cheek; he nuzzled her temple, whispered her name.

  She moaned and turned her face up until their lips met, clung, once gently, again fiercely, then she pulled away and buried her head against him. “I’m doing the right thing dating, Seth.”

  “I know.” His words rumbled through his chest; his arms tightened around her, then let go. He took a step back. “I know. I hope you...well, if any guy gives you trouble, you tell me. Okay?”

  She nodded, again not trusting herself to speak.

  “I’ll tell Matti you’re interested. We’ll see if you can work something out. And she’s loaded, so charge her a lot.”

  Bonnie came out with a laugh that sounded like small animals being stepped on. “I will.”

  “Okay.” He backed away, cocky again, but his movements were jerky, tense. “Seeyaround.”

  “You bet.” She waited until he was out of sight, then let her cemented-on smile crack and fall off.

  But instead o
f collapsing completely into the pain, she felt, incredibly, some relief. She’d done the right thing. She’d stayed strong. Of course, Seth had helped. If he’d wanted to seduce her he could have, and he undoubtedly knew it. For that she was grateful. He was never quite the monster she wanted him to be. A monster would have been much easier to kick out of her heart.

  She rebooted her computer, poured herself the rest of the wine, pulled up the email again, to Mercer533, worked on it until she was happy with how it sounded, with the way she came across. Then she counted out some courage: one, two, three...

  And hit Send.

  8

  Blood Pressure: Normal

  “SO YOU NEVER TOUCHED HIM.” Melissa smiled indulgently at Mary Jo, wanting to do anything but smile. From the moment the woman had come into her office, Melissa’s alarm bells started ringing. Nothing Mary Jo said had been particularly incriminating in the Bob Whatsisname sexual-harassment complaint. It was just her look. And she did this weird sniffing thing when she talked that made Melissa want to hand her a tissue. Or have her take a drug test.

  “He was always wanting me to touch him.” She sniffed, put a hand next to her burgundy mouth and made her fingers “talk” as if they were inside a sock puppet. “‘Hey, Mary Jo, I spent forty minutes on my glutes today at the gym. Check ’em out.’ I mean really, the guy is obsessed with his appearance.”

  Melissa nodded, keeping her demeanor professional when she wanted to roll her eyes. A little ironic for Mary Jo to be accusing Bob when she’d clearly had a face-lift, dyed and permed her perfectly coiffed hair, wore expensive and stylish clothes and jewelry and, judging by the impressive size of her chest, possibly had implants. “So you never touched him?”

  “The guy wouldn’t leave me alone!” She folded her arms, bracelets jangling. “‘Check out these biceps, you can crack walnuts on them. Check out my thighs, they’re ready to tear through my pants like the Hulk’s.’”

  “But...” Melissa made herself stay calm. Her blood pressure had been amazingly low that morning and for the past few days. She didn’t want to blow that promising trend now. “Did you ever touch him?”

  Mary Jo looked at her blankly. Sniffed. Melissa got the impression that behind those lifeless eyes, her brain was whirring. “Well, I mean, we work in the same office. Handing over papers, maybe our fingers touched. Walking next to him to a meeting, maybe we bumped shoulders. You know, the way you’d do with anyone. But touch him like ‘Hey, baby, let’s go do this thing now’? Ha, that’s totally different.”

  Totally different, but...Mary Jo hadn’t ruled it out.

  She picked something Melissa couldn’t see off her skirt and threw the invisible particle on the floor. Then sniffed.

  Melissa took a deep breath to quash the groan of frustration coming into her throat, picked up her pen and wrote on Mary Jo’s file: Will not answer the question.

  “Guys like Bob Stoker, they’re players. They always will be players and there is nothing that will ever change them. I swear he’s slept with every woman in the office.” A particularly vicious sniff. “I must be the only one he didn’t land.”

  Or the only one he didn’t try to land? Which was insulting enough that she might be exacting revenge?

  Melissa weighed the flash of insight, trying to determine whether it felt true or grew out of her instant dislike for this woman. She had to be objective, unbiased as a judge. Barbara liked and trusted Mary Jo, and that counted for a lot.

  A few more questions elicited equally rambling and unsatisfactory answers. Finally Melissa ushered Mary Jo out, not knowing what to think. Except, if someone from human resources had asked Melissa if she’d touched a guy improperly and she hadn’t, she’d be yelling “No” as loudly and as often as possible. And if that same someone also happened to ask whether Melissa would rather sit down for a beer with Mary Jo or Bob, she’d pick Bob every time. Which didn’t mean he was innocent. It just meant she liked him better. Which wasn’t saying all that much, considering Mary Jo.

  This was confusing.

  Back at her desk, she glanced at her phone as she’d been doing obsessively for the past few days to see if Gretchen had called. She and Ted were taking a ridiculous and annoying amount of time getting back to Melissa about the flowers and cake. Melissa couldn’t imagine why they weren’t returning her calls. She had half a mind to go ahead and book Bonnie and Angela without Ted’s almighty approval. He wasn’t going to stand in the way of her sister’s dream wedding.

  She did have one new voice mail. But not from Gretchen. From Jack.

  Her heart skipped. She scoffed at herself. He’d be calling to schedule the next photo session. And during it, she would not touch alcohol, nor would she go mental and offer herself like a freshly baked ham at Easter, which undoubtedly every other woman did around Jack. And maybe what Bob was doing to the women in his office?

  Hmm. She couldn’t quite see it.

  Regardless, she was back in control of the situation with Jack, and had decided she had nothing to apologize for or worry about. She’d gotten carried away, and then found her sanity in plenty of time. Nothing so terrible about that. And he’d been sweet and understanding about it.

  Really sweet.

  Incredibly sweet.

  She jerked herself back to reality and dialed into voice mail, annoyed when his voice came on and she got a little fluttery.

  “I was wondering if you’d like to drive over to Seward Park with me after work today, walk some of the trails.”

  Melissa narrowed her eyes, heart positively jumping, while her brain very wisely told it to calm the hell down. She was Jack’s model; he wanted to take more pictures, apparently outside this time. It wasn’t as if he was asking her on a date.

  She called him back, still annoyed at herself, this time for being ludicrously nervous. Hadn’t she decided she had this under control? Photos taken outside would be perfect, much less intimate than in his studio. And he certainly wasn’t going to make her get naked in public. “Hi, Jack. I got your message.”

  “Hey, there, Melissa.” His voice was casual and confident. He was back in control, too. “Want to take a walk with me?”

  “I’m guessing you want Eve outdoors this time?”

  “If the mood hits there’s no telling where I’ll want her.”

  Melissa couldn’t help smiling. Back to Jack the auto-flirter. That guy she could handle. It was the sexy artist she had trouble with, the man who’d connected with her on such an intensely personal level that she felt as if he was bringing part of her to life for the very first time.

  Melissa snorted. Honestly. He was hot, she’d been tipsy and horny, that was that. “I’m in a suit right now, but can go home and get other clothes at lunch. What would you need me to wear?”

  “I’m thinking...a small tree branch. Maybe two.”

  “Come on.” Nervous laughter burst out of her. “You think I’ll get naked in a public park?”

  “I think you’ll get naked anywhere, Melissa.”

  She couldn’t keep back a gasp, even while simultaneously realizing he was kidding. “Be serious.”

  “Ah, Melissa.” He chuckled. “You know I’ll never make you do anything that isn’t totally comfortable. Not just because I’m the world’s absolute nicest guy, but also because if you’re unhappy the pictures suffer.”

  “Right, okay. What time do you...” She almost said “want me” and decided not to feed him that line. “What time?”

  “What time do you get off? Work, that is?”

  She rolled her eyes. “What are you smoking today?”

  “I’m taking prints of our last session to Pierre Balzac, owner of the Unko Gallery, in approximately five hours, and I’m nervous as hell.”

  Melissa blinked. From supremely confident player to vulnerable artist in zero point six seconds. No wonder he was giddy. She was suddenly a little anxious herself.

  “How did they come out?”

  “They’re incredible, Melissa.” His voice was
low, earnest, and just like that she turned shivery and had to clench her thighs together.

  “Well.” She used her prissiest voice. “I hope he likes them. Do you think he will?”

  “I’m too close to judge. They’re not like anything I’ve done before, so there’s no telling.”

  “I’ll have my fingers crossed.”

  “Well, thank you, Miss Melissa. I’ll pick you up on Sixth Avenue, a silver Volvo sedan. Don’t get into any other cars. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “You say that to all the models.”

  “None but you!”

  She chuckled under her breath. When he was like this, Jack was plain, simple fun. And most importantly, no big threat to her sanity. “I’ll be waiting outside. Five-thirty okay?”

  “I am already counting the minutes.”

  She hung up the phone, grinning now, feeling more comfortable. Today would be fun. They were still on a good track.

  A text came in from Barbara. “Meeting over? Come see me.”

  Melissa grabbed the file from her desk, feeling lighter than she had in days, and strode over to Barbara’s office. “Hey, there.”

  “Hello, have a sit.” Her usual smile was missing today.

  “How are you, Barbara?”

  “Fair to middling.” Barbara looked up from her computer. “I’d feel better if my ex would drop dead. Or be hit by a bus. Or two busses.”

  “Oh, no.” She sat opposite her boss. Barbara’s ex delighted in making her life as miserable as possible.

  “The thing about divorce?” She closed a computer file with a vicious stab of her finger. “It doesn’t go away. At least not as fast as love does.”

  Melissa’s stomach gave an almost angry jolt. “Barbara, I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t worry. It’ll pass.” She made a wry face. “Like gas. What’s up with Mary Jo? Did she help nail Bob?”

  “Not exactly.” Melissa summarized the meeting, trying to stay neutral, sticking to the facts.

  “Hmm.” Barbara frowned. “You sure you asked the right questions?”