Feeling good for the first time since Heather left for work this morning, I’m looking forward to the rest of the day. Maybe with enough positive thinking, Portia won’t really be pregnant. Or if she is, the baby won’t be mine. God, a man can hope.
Chapter Five
Heather
It’s Wednesday morning, a little past eleven, and my head is already pounding. I swear, if I have to go through much more “settling in” paperwork, I’m going to scream. And not in a good way like I did Monday night with Tony.
My face heats thinking about it, the memory of his thrusting hips drives some of the headache away, too. Much to my dismay, we didn’t get together last night. He was working on his place ’til late and had to crash there due to deliveries he’s expecting early today.
I hate to admit it, but I’m really getting used to having him by my side while I sleep. It’s not like I tossed and turned last night or anything, but suffice it to say my big bed was quite cold without his solid bulk to warm it.
My fingers itch with the urge to text him and see how his day is going, but I refrain. Texting my boyfriend while I’m supposed to be helping solve the company’s cash flow issue isn’t the most productive way of spending my time.
I push aside the latest mound of HR forms to clear my desk blotter. The meeting with the sales team starts soon and I need to brush up one more time on what I’ll be expected to cover. My creative financial gymnastics last week may have saved the company from a hostile take-over, but if we don’t increase revenue soon we’ll be screwed.
Oliver mentioned hiring a batch of new sales people. With luck, it does the trick and my new dream job isn’t short lived. As I immerse myself in the figures, a calm steals over me at the familiar task. Numbers never lie. No matter how an executive might try and spin doctor results, the black and red of accounting is pretty damn clear.
In thirty minutes, Tammy knocks on my door. “Heather?”
I glance up, a pen clamped between my teeth. “Uh-huh?”
“The meeting starts in five. Thought you might want to head over to the conference room.”
“Thanks.” I smile my gratitude. “Time got away from me for a moment.”
She bobs her chin and returns to her desk. I gather up my tablet to take notes and grab a few files in case I need to reference numbers specifically.
Oliver, Paul, and Carlos, our dynamic head of sales, are already seated. There are several more people, most I’ve never seen before, milling near the food laid out in the back on a long credenza.
I slide the files out of my arms and lower myself into a chair near Oliver. He glances up briefly and nods a greeting. While the food is mobbed, I access the notes app on my tablet, and then double-check everything. The overall revenue numbers aren’t strong. Nor is the company’s outlook if we can’t generate a few real prospects quickly. Here’s to hoping Carlos instills some enthusiasm and excitement in the new recruits.
Carlos ushers everyone to their seats, then reads today’s agenda aloud. I listen half-heartedly, my mind drifting to the statistics I’ll be asked to explain.
“Before we go further,” the Latino in his late forties says, “I’d like to take a moment to personally introduce the new additions to our sales team.” He gestures individually to each person seated at the other end of the long table, saying their name and where they worked previously. I take the time to make eye contact with each one and offer a welcoming smile.
My heart seizes in my chest as my gaze lands on the fifth person, a self-confident smirk plastered on the familiar face.
“And Jimmy Davenport, who formerly worked as the star salesman for United Planet Advertising.” Carlos’s voice rises with exuberance, but all I hear is the screaming in my head. “He was a tough one to sway into joining Parkerson, and I’m glad he’s here.” Looking like he realizes his last comments may have sounded like favoritism he quickly amends, “As I am to have all of you joining us.”
It can’t be. But my eyes don’t lie. The ex-boyfriend who made me feel like a doormat and crushed my self-esteem is a mere fifteen feet away. Looking smug and good-looking as hell. The bastard. Couldn’t he have gained like forty pounds and become slovenly after we broke up? Would have fit his true personality much better than the slick facade he presents to the world.
One of the new guys sitting next to Jimmy slaps him on the shoulder in a show of friendly competition. “Sure, start show-boating before the first deal closes. That would be right up your alley, Jimmy.”
The corner of my ex’s full mouth curves in a calculated aww-shucks grin. A dimple appears in one tanned cheek and a twinkle lights his dark blue eyes. Always a master of timing, he wisely refrains from speaking while looking around the table at his new co-workers, a friendly “I’m harmless” expression on his face.
I know how his mind works. It wouldn’t do to come across as pompous and arrogant right out of the gate. He’ll save that for later, after they all feel open to him. Goddammit! I can’t freakin’ believe I’ve got everything I want in my life, more than I ever dreamed of, and he has to come waltzing back in.
There’s no surprise in his eyes when his attention finally lands on me. He knew where I worked eighteen months ago when we dated, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be that hard to find out I’m still here. Hell, he probably asked Carlos in his interview.
The rest of the meeting continues in a fog as I try to process the situation. Why is he here? With his professional reputation he could work anywhere he wanted. No need to be at Parkerson unless he wanted to be.
At the end, I focus on gathering my things, amazed I was able to coherently go over my data when called upon. The urge to rush out of the room and hide in my office overwhelms me, but I rein it in. I can’t show weakness when dealing with Jimmy. He’ll use it and make my life a living hell.
The skin on my arm tingles as the waft of expensive cologne tickles my nose. “Hey, stranger. Fancy seeing you here.” He opens his arms for a hug and wraps them around me in a quick, courteous embrace. My arms are folded over my belongings and pinned to my chest. I make no move to return the physical greeting.
“Yeah, hello to you, too,” I say in a level tone. “You knew I worked here. What did you expect?”
He steps back and shrugs one shoulder. “It’s been awhile. I hoped I’d run into you eventually.” His eyes linger on my hair, he always loved to fist its length while force-feeding me his cock or pinning me to the bed while he grunted over my passive form. God, I hate who he drove me to become. “But never expected to see you on the board.” A warm smile curves his mouth. “You’re looking good. Real good. Life has been treating you well.”
His intensity is laser sharp, like he’s looking into my soul. I always loved and hated that. It was as if he knew things about me I never did.
Flustered, I remain silent, looking for a way to escape without appearing outright rude.
“Congrats on the new position. It’s about time they noticed what a treasure they have in you.” My eyes dart away, unable to hold his penetrating stare any longer. His voice softens as if he senses my uneasiness. “Lord knows I never did until you were gone.”
Carlos steps through the conference room door from the hall. “Jimmy,” he calls. “Let’s get you set up with the others in the sales department.”
“Yes, sir.” His eyes travel up and down my body, desire heating in their depths. “See you around, Heather.”
I nod, my head moving in a jerky fashion. My insides quiver with a mix of fear and confusion. He forced me into a dark spiral of low self-esteem—cheated on me, claiming I was awful in bed—why the hell is he being so nice now? And what the hell am I going to do about him working here?
Tony reaches across the table to clasp my hand. We’re at a Chinese restaurant near my place, waiting on the check. “Earth to Heather. You’ve been miles away for the past ten minutes. What’s on your mind?”
I’ve been lost in my thoughts most of the evening, unsure what to say about Jimm
y working for my company. All my old insecurities churned up, making me feel raw and exposed for the rest of the day. I don’t want secrets between us, so I might as well bite the bullet.
A sigh escapes as I gently squeeze his fingers, glad for his reassuring touch. “The board was introduced to the new sales staff today.”
Tony nods his head, “Yeah, and? Hopefully they will line up new clients for Parkerson soon.”
“That’s the goal.” What little food I ate bubbles in my stomach, threatening to evacuate. “One of the new sales guys is an ex-boyfriend.” I stare at the table, afraid to look in his eyes where he can see my fear. “It ended over a year ago. He was kinda an asshole.”
“Asshole?” Tony’s tone changes and he tugs my fingers to get my attention. “That’s a strong descriptor coming from you. Is it that guy I met at the restaurant?”
I shake my head, refusing to look up, ashamed there are tears forming in my eyes. “No, that was Rick. We didn’t date all that long. This is Jimmy. We dated about six months…” My voice trails off. I’m unsure how much to tell him. God, I feel so stupid. Why did I bring this up?
“Hey.” He leans toward the table, ducking to meet my eyes. When that doesn’t work he puts a finger under my chin and tilts my face up to his. “What happened, honey? This isn’t like you. Why the tears?”
The compassion on his face undoes me, and the tears spill down my cheeks. “He liked to put me down. Made me feel like dirt. Told me that I was lucky to have him. Cheated on me. Was an insatiable womanizer with anything in a skirt.” Surprise lights his eyes and I rush on. “I realize now the situation was partly my own fault. I allowed it to get as bad as it did.”
I take a shaky breath and swipe a napkin under my eyes. “God, I feel so stupid saying this out loud. It really was nothing—or at least it feels like nothing now. He was nothing. I’ve grown into a different person and see how my actions and participation in his slow destruction of my self-esteem was toxic. It all happened so gradually I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late.”
When I finally feel strong enough to meet what I can only assume will be disapproval in his gaze, I’m taken aback. A dark intensity crosses Tony’s face. A look I’ve never seen on my handsome lover. He looks angry. And determined. Almost furious enough to punch something.
“He’s a predator. I know exactly the type of guy you’re describing. The only way they can keep a woman is to break her down so she’ll never leave him. At the same time, they go after more conquests, never satisfied or happy.”
I’d never thought of Jimmy that way. With his suave manners and polished good looks, I was out of my element, pleased a man like that wanted to be with me. If it hadn’t been for Carla’s steady friendship, I might not have permanently ended things when I caught him cheating. She gave me the courage, and she stood by me while I cried my eyes out for months.
“What are you going to do? Please tell me I can pound his face into the sidewalk. God, that would feel so good.”
I laugh, strangely pleased with Tony’s immediate offer to avenge me and keep me safe. Resolve settles inside me. “Thanks. Just talking about it has made me feel tons better. I’ll handle this creep. I’ve got a new job and there’s a new me.” I smile, glad the tears have left. Tony looks a little disappointed I didn’t take up his gallant offer to beat up an old boyfriend like we were in junior high. “But I promise if things get out of hand I’ll let you know.”
Chapter Six
Tony
The gleam off the BMW’s shiny surface causes me to squint. Heather’s new car arrived two days ago before we met for Chinese, but she has no idea—which is exactly how I want it. After all, it’s not a surprise if I tell her. And I’m still unsure how I’m going to spring it on her. Maybe I’ll wait and see if an opportunity presents itself.
Nah… that’s almost like taking the coward’s way out. Perhaps I should do a big surprise reveal. Maybe one of those big bows used in car commercials. No, if she thinks it’s a gift she’ll probably refuse. Best to stick with my original plan and tell her it’s a car I’m not driving much and would like her to use so she can come out to Hoboken easier.
She’s deep in my thoughts. No matter what I do it’s like all roads lead back to Heather. Last night I stayed at her place after dinner. No matter how I phrased it, she was unwilling to let me help with this ex-boyfriend situation at work.
Considering my own duplicity with not telling her about the fiasco with Portia, I wisely backed off to let her handle it on her own, even if doing so went against every male instinct I possess. I remember when my mom became involved with a loser like Heather’s ex after my dad died. In a matter of a few months, she’d shrunk into herself, becoming a shadow of the loving woman who held the family together during all the tough years of my dad’s excessive drinking and gambling.
At the time she dated this guy, I was working a crappy day job while going to college at night. One rare day off from work and school, I really saw who my mom had become. That night my brothers and I sat her down for a long talk.
We gave her an ultimatum: either the new guy went away on his own or we’d make him go. Even though I’d never been in a real fist fight, just the normal violent skirmishes three brothers will engage in, I was good sized. I knew my brothers and I could protect my mother if the man became physical—which is where it was going based on the shit he screamed at her when he thought her sons weren’t around.
It was a dangerous situation, one I’m glad she emerged from safely, and it makes me doubly glad Heather got out from under her ex, too.
I know I haven’t treated all my casual flings as they may have wanted—with an engagement ring and promises of undying love—but I never treated them poorly or tried to destroy their self-esteem, either. Cheating on them never came into play because nothing lasted longer than a month.
Wanting to shake off the dark memories, I admire the new car, running a hand along a sun-warmed section of the hood. In a moment, I remember the deliveries waiting upstairs. I click a button on the key fob to engage the car locks and man the alarm, then return to my apartment on the fifth floor. All the photography equipment I ordered arrived yesterday. I spent the day arranging things and testing the lighting.
Between the backdrop, computer equipment, professional printer, lighting poles, umbrella thingies and all the other numerous gadgets a proper studio should have, I think I’ve created a great space for Heather’s hobby. I grab a long-stemmed lighter from the grilling drawer in my kitchen and return to the studio to light the wicks on the four vanilla candles placed around the room.
The guy at the paint store recommended the candles for neutralizing the last of the odor from the low VOC paint. With luck, the fumes will be gone in a couple of hours.
Afternoon light streams through the large windows, the building’s southern exposure making this a perfect choice for daytime work. I grab a remote off a nearby table and press a button. Hidden shades unroll, filtering the strongest light and granting the room privacy from anyone looking in. There’s also a light blocking option if Heather decides she needs no outside light.
As the last of the fabric drops into place, a lone sunbeam glints off the metal chains draped over a stool centered on the backdrop. My cock stirs in anticipation. I can hardly wait to spring this room on Heather. The camera I bought her sits fully charged on a high table just inside the door. She can’t miss it when she arrives later. Maybe leaving her notes would help. I can’t exactly meet her at the door with what I planned.
My phone rings. I dig it out of my back pocket, hoping it’s Heather. I should change the ring tone so I know when she’s calling.
Damn, you sound like a besotted sap.
What of it? I don’t give a flying fuck if I sound whipped. All I think of is the look on her face when she walks in later.
Dread hits me when I check the screen. Tension tightens my shoulders as I hit the answer option.
“Hi, Portia.”
&nb
sp; “Hey, lover,” she says in a low, throaty voice.
Anger boils under my skin, cold and quick. “Cut the crap. I’m not your lover and I never will be again.”
“Not the nicest way to talk to a pregnant woman, you know.”
“So you got the blood work back from the doctor? It’s official?”
“Yes, I did. And yes, I’m officially pregnant. Don’t you think it’s time we sat down and had that chat, Tony? Face to face? I know you say you won’t marry me, but we do need to discuss other important related facts.”
Resentment sits in my stomach like a lead balloon. I was careful when we slept together. The condom never broke. I refuse to believe I’m one of the three percent of unlucky bastards with an “ineffective” condom.
“I’m not just saying we won’t get married—we won’t. It’s not going to happen. I don’t love you and I refuse to marry anyone out of a sense of obligation. You really think that would benefit a child? And besides, I’m not completely convinced this child is mine. How far along are you?”
“Eight weeks. Why not just call me a whore while you’re at it? Don’t you think I know who I slept with less than two months ago?”
Picturing the calculating look I often saw in her eye, I have my doubts. She was a party girl through and through. We slept together seven to ten times in the few weeks we were involved—and I by no means lived with her. She easily could have been with someone else.
In my silence, she continues. “The six week mark was the last weekend fling we had in Vegas. Remember the fun we had?” A sigh escapes. “Joining the mile high club on our way out was never so much fun—and comfortable.”
Damn, I’m so screwed. What have I done in my life to deserve this? Is someone upstairs looking down and laughing their ass off at me right now? This would be just the kind of shit to make my drunken father laugh until he coughed.
Vanilla Twist: A Walk on the Wild Side Novel (Heather and Tony, Book 2) Page 4
