by Sandra Kitt
Chapter 8
By the end of the week, the pressure of not having a facility hounded Neesie until her nerves snapped and she developed hiccups. Quick snatches of breath racked her body until even she couldn’t stand herself.
She’d drunk from the other side of every glass in the house, and had breathed in ten paper bags, but her diaphragm still vibrated uncontrollably.
At the counter in the kitchen, a paper bag surrounded her mouth as she considered how to tell Craig the only facility she’d found on short notice was the cafeteria of Avery elementary school.
She groaned and hiccuped.
He’d fire her for sure and with good reason. She’d assured him she could do the job. Yet, so far, she hadn’t done one thing except lust after, dream about and think of him.
The sweet, sensational kiss he’d planted on her temple had done nothing but elevate her respect for his sense of honor. It had been a long time since she’d dated a man whose sole purpose past feeding her wasn’t getting the panties off. And because Craig’s actions didn’t mirror those of his male counterparts, her desire to have him in her arms and in her heart increased.
But he would still fire her when he learned they had no facility for the fund-raiser.
Hiccups shook her chest and she held her breath.
Stadler said if she needed anything to tell Craig.
Well, she’d tell him all right. Stalking to her office, Neesie gathered her notes, the cost analysis and her purse.
It was time for a showdown with Mr. DuPont.
* * *
The applicant stared at Craig. Craig stared at her. He wondered what had possessed the woman to explain in detail about the gallstones she’d had removed by laser surgery two weeks ago.
She blinked, he believed stunned at her own embarrassing admission. “I don’t believe I just told you that. This isn’t the job for me.”
Craig stood, his hand extended, weary from a day of interviewing. He agreed. “Thank you for coming in, Ms. Parker.”
He escorted her to the door, planning on giving Janice the “I’m at lunch” signal and noticed Neesie sitting in one of the waiting room chairs.
Dressed to kill in a black on black skirt and jacket, she sat with her exquisite mahogany-colored legs crossed in front of her. Her hair was neatly twisted and pinned back leaving her long neck and ears exposed.
“Neesie, you here to see me?”
Her chest heaved and she nodded. “Yes.” She pushed to her feet. “I’ve...ahuh...got hiccups,” she said, hiccuping. “I get them...ahuh...when I’m stressed. They’ll go away soon. Ahuh... I’ve got something to tell you. Ahuh...”
Craig showed her in and poured water from a pitcher he kept on the credenza behind his desk. He handed her the glass and she drank from it. A smile parted her moist lips.
He smiled back. “You’ve got good news about a place.” He assumed. “Take your time.” Craig slid into the guest chair beside her and looked into her eyes. They shimmered with excitement. Great, he thought. This thing is finally turning around. “Where is it?”
“I found a place, ahuh.” She sipped the remaining water. “It’s small, but accommodating...ahuh.”
Craig suddenly felt as if a lizard was crawling up his leg. “I’m not liking this already. Spit it out. Where is it?”
“Ahuh... It’s Avery elementary school. My father is on the school board...ahuh... And he can get it for us.”
Craig hung his head and watched his career walk away and attach itself to the back of another black man. How could this be? “You mean the place where children go and put colorful drawings on the wall?”
“Ahuh... That’s the one.”
“Unbelievable,” he murmured. “Unbelievable.”
Craig took the glass from her limp hands and put it on his desk. His legs slid forward and he slouched in his chair. So what if someone walked in?
This office would be reassigned as soon as he was fired anyway.
“We don’t have a choice. Make a decision. The elementary school or the Stadler mansion.”
Both stared out the small window, Neesie’s hiccups breaking the quiet air.
Craig stood and looked down at her. Her curious gaze shadowed with worry. The fund-raiser had become as important to her as it was to him.
“I...ahuh...can talk to him.”
He caressed the smooth line of her jaw with his thumb. “You’d better stay here.” Sliding into the matching navy suit coat, he buttoned it. “Try holding your breath for thirty seconds. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He drew his hands away from her warm skin and tried hard not to kiss her. Instead, he surprised even himself by drawing her within the confines of his arms. Her head tipped, exposing her long neck and with their hands clasped at her side, he leaned forward and inhaled.
Sugar and spice and everything nice, entered his mind. Craig pressed his nose to the column of her neck above her collarbone, heard the whisper of a sigh leave her mouth and felt her chest lift in a suppressed hiccup.
Her fingers tightened on his and he pulled back to gaze at her. A long moment of silence passed between them. “You’re pretty.”
Moisture filled her eyes and she smiled. “Thank you...ahuh.”
Breaking apart, they shared a sheepish laugh. “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll be here.”
Neesie sat in Craig’s office feeling as if she were a criminal awaiting a verdict. Pacing the confined area drove her to distraction so she sat down and tried to focus on getting rid of the hiccups.
What’s the contingency plan? she asked herself as she unbuttoned the lower buttons on the black jacket and rubbed her diaphragm. We have to have a back-up plan. A back-up. She squeezed her eyes shut when she realized she was living the back-up plan. Neesie shook her head, held her breath and prayed.
Craig’s voice caused her to surge to her feet, just before the door pushed in.
“Come with me, please.”
His business mode was in full effect so she didn’t ask what was going on, just followed him to Mr. Stadler’s office.
Once inside, a young version of the elder Stadler stared at her. Sickly blue eyes, hooded by spiked lashes against a grayish pallor made Neesie wonder what a young woman like Nevana would want with this ugly man.
Craig’s discreet touch warned her to keep a healthy distance. He didn’t have to worry.
“Where’s your grandfather?” Craig asked.
“He had to leave.” Waymon flipped his hands carelessly. “His nap time.” His gaze shifted to Neesie. “So you’re the reason we’re having this debacle at my grandmother’s house. You’re trying to embarrass me, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know you.”
“Allow me. Waymon, the prodigal grandson.” He coughed into a soiled handkerchief and rubbed his nose with it, glaring at her.
“Why are you here, Waymon?” Craig demanded.
“I told you what I wanted and you didn’t give it to me, buddy. I want the old man out like he threw my father out before he died!” Waymon’s ice-blue eyes skated over them. “I care about owning this company and making lots of money. I can’t do anything about where this thing is held because my grandfather has given his approval to use the house. But I control the budget. And this one has been cut by ten thousand dollars. Happy?” he said to Neesie.
“What?” Craig’s cool voice was like ice. “The budget has never been cut where the fund-raiser has been concerned. You’re trying to punish Ms. Claiborne for a mess she didn’t create.”
Waymon coughed, his eyes glassing over. “Nevana gave Ms. Claiborne high praise. Said she was a miracle worker. Let’s see what she’s made of.” Waymon turned to her. “I was concerned about the company’s image before, but now I say screw it. When this thing falls apart, I’ll come riding in on a white horse and save the day. My grandfather will be declared incompetent and you both will be unemployed. Nice to meet you, Ms. Claiborne. Have a good day.”
Craig’s voice rang out
fierce and low. “I’m taking this up with your grandfather, Waymon.” Craig held the door for Neesie, who’d remained cool.
Waymon coughed raggedly, his hand against his chest. “Grandfather’s gone fishing. He won’t be back for two weeks. I may have mono, but I’m still in charge.” He snickered, which resulted in another coughing fit. The terrible wracks seemed to sap his energy. “I’m going home.”
“That’s a good place for you.”
Craig’s long stride didn’t falter once as they passed employees in the hallway.
Neesie kept her head up feeling miserable. Behind Craig’s closed office door, she began to shake with fury.
“Who does he think he is?” Her mind swirled, cutting costs, shaving perks, and subtracting amenities, coming nowhere close to the ten-thousand-dollar slash mark Waymon had just delivered across her budget.
Nasty words raced to the tip of her tongue and she bit them back just as Craig rounded his desk. “You know what?”
“What?” Her voice came out in a rush, hoarse and furious as she dropped into a seat.
“We need to give him an old-fashioned whoopin’.”
Neesie stood, pulling at the buttons on her jacket. “I haven’t been in a fight in a long time.”
Craig looked at her, suppressing a smile. “I’m not talking about a beat down. I mean show him how bad we can make this without his granddaddy’s money.”
“You don’t want to fight?”
Provocative, desirous tingles went through her at Craig’s rumble of laugher. “I don’t use my fists to prove I’m a man.” Simple, undressed confidence pulsed from him.
“Is that a fact?”
“No doubt.”
Neesie could feel a smile pulling at her lips, the fight in her dissipating. If Craig had said he was a lover, not a fighter, she would have laughed in his face. That was so seventies.
But he’d conveyed his masculinity in the way he stood his ground and didn’t back down against the self-proclaimed prodigal grandson. He hadn’t sunk beneath himself by cursing Waymon, opting instead to accept the challenge for the prize. Success.
And his uncanny ability to calm her fury with a look, a twist of his mouth and words delivered low and calm made her want to wrap herself around him and squeeze.
She and he weren’t adversaries anymore, but allies. She liked having him on her side.
Neesie eyed him from the periphery, then turned fully toward him.
He glanced at his silver-and-gold watch. “I think we deserve a working lunch. What’s your pleasure?”
You between two slices of bread. “Soul food.”
“Soul food it is.” He rested his hand on the doorknob. “Neesie?”
Slipping her arms into her winter wool coat, Neesie laced her neck with her scarf, careful not to mess up her hair.
“Yes?”
“Your hiccups are gone.”
“They disappeared when I thought I was going to have to beat down Waymon.” She shrugged. “Something about misplaced aggression.”
Neesie walked past Craig. “I’m scared of you.”
“You oughta be.”
Chapter 9
Craig leaned his head back against his chair and tried to sigh, but the breath of relief wouldn’t come. He was too tired. His head hurt, his stomach was empty and if he saw anyone from the Stadler family, he was liable to tell them where they could shove this job.
Four employees had quit today. Waymon had terrorized them, finding fault with every task and threatening their jobs until they’d resigned.
His revenge tactics extended far beyond his immediate staff. He’d made sure Craig would be without administrative support by loaning Janice to the research and development department for three weeks. And he’d demanded reports early, knowing Craig would have to complete them, forcing the exit interviews to be held late into the evening.
Craig congratulated himself. He’d earned his salary today. He folded his hands over his stomach, pressing his shoulders back until the blades met, just before the light on his phone blinked on. Rolling his head, he stared at it, wanting to let it ring, but knowing it would prolong any problem. He reached a weary hand over, and lifted the receiver. “DuPont.”
“Mr. DuPont, this is Ms. Claiborne. Is anybody there with you?”
He understood the code talk and smiled for the first time since he woke up this morning. “No. I’m alone.”
“Yo, wzup?”
Craig sat forward, leaning his elbows on the desk, laughing. “Hey, crazy. What you up to?”
“I’ve been addressing invitations with my favorite calligraphy pen for hours and my fingers are numb. It’s past nine.” Her voice dipped some. “You still coming over?”
He rubbed his face with his hands and groaned. “Do you really need my help? I’m terrible with a calligraphy pen.”
“I need you bad.” Her voice lured him, the intent unmistakable.
“How bad?” he asked, suddenly craving her. Neesie was like some of the delicious chocolate his company made. Sweet and hard to resist.
“I need you,” she said softly. “And I want you. Is that enough?”
“I’ve got to make a stop first.” He checked his watch. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
He hadn’t seen her since late last week when they’d had the showdown with Waymon. A part of him had wanted to press the relationship, but he knew Neesie had to decide for herself to be with him on his terms. Apparently she had. She’d just issued the intimate invitation. I want you.
“I’ll be waiting.”
Slow-moving traffic hampered the ride to Neesie’s house. Five of the six lanes on the highway were scattered with debris and the Department of Transportation and the police forced the traffic to travel in one lane.
Craig tried to stem his impatience but breathed a sigh of relief when he took the exit leading to Neesie’s house. He was even more pleased to be underway after he left the local supermarket with a box of protection.
Then doubt hit. All the reasons he shouldn’t pursue Neesie made him slow the Acura, but not stop. She was a nice woman, a good woman, someone who deserved all she desired out of life. She’d spoken of a future to him, but only in respect to her career.
On the occasions when they’d talked about their pasts, she’d always changed the subject when it came to issues of a permanent relationship.
He had, too. They wanted the same thing, he reasoned. To enjoy the moments they had. In his heart, though, he felt somewhat unsatisfactory and realized he was in front of her house. He turned into her driveway and set the emergency brake.
The job he wanted was in California and it was practically his, but a beautiful, talented woman he knew he could love waited for him on the other side of the door.
The light above the garage door flipped on, the front door opened and he caught a glimpse of silk. He followed the stone pathway to the woman who had put no pressure on him to make the relationship more than what it was.
Neesie took his hand, her gentle smile uncorking a geyser of longing as he followed her to the den.
Fire crackled against dimmed lighting and she guided him into the center of the room and away from the table with haphazardly stacked invitations, envelopes and lists.
He dropped his suit coat over the arm of the sofa and tugged her toward him as a low throb of sensual music painted the room with sound.
His body relaxed as she moved against him, settling her arms around his waist. Craig closed his eyes, inhaling her freshly showered scent.
“Are you hungry?”
He held her close and murmured into her hair. “If I eat, I’ll go to sleep.”
Holding Neesie pushed any remaining doubt away. He held her tighter as their melded hips moved gently against each other.
“How are you feeling now?” she asked after a few minutes, her soft, seductive voice dripping with invitation.
“Mmm.” Moving his hands up against the silk, he took his time getting to know her soft flesh throug
h the thin fabric.
He hissed in a breath when she pressed her lips against his neck in slow, teasing movements.
“Poor Craig. He’s been at work all day and hasn’t eaten a thing. If you don’t want food, what else can I offer you?”
“You.” He groaned, his hand leaving her hip, finding her jaw. “I want you.”
Her lips parted before he touched them, and when their mouths met he got a taste of tongue and sweetness. Neesie’s unabashed desire made him want her more and he sank his passion into making love to her mouth.
His hands stroked, learned and memorized her curves and the spots that made her gasp in pleasure. When moans pulsed from her and Neesie began to quiver under his fingertips, he guided her to the large colorful throw pillows that occupied a corner of the room and laid her down.
There he undressed himself and stripped her of the thin sheath of silk, then took his time visually marveling at her body.
He stroked, then laved the lift of her upturned breasts, the dark centers tasting sweeter than any chocolate he’d ever eaten. The curve of her ample hips and the mysterious cavern between her legs, the bend behind her knees and the deep indent of her navel didn’t escape his touch or his tongue. Her body quivered, responding as he pushed her to come again before he protected himself and sank into her. He pushed, yearned, to please her first, then himself.
Through half-closed eyes he watched her, getting high off her expressions of satisfaction until her fingers curled around the sacks of his manhood and squeezed ever so gently.
She scraped his backside with her nails then held on as the channel made for him clutched again and again in release. Craig let go, too, and emptied himself inside of her.
Neesie descended back to earth as strains of smooth jazz filled the room. How appropriate to be finally soothed, the fire of longing that had been inside her for months to be so effectively quenched.
She lay beneath Craig, bodies still joined as his heart hammered against her chest. She could awaken like this every day of her life. He pushed up on his elbows and met her gaze.
A questioning look occupied his eyes and she wished they were in another time and place. Two years in the past or two into the future and things between them would have been different. There would have been a commitment.
