by Emerson Rose
Jacob cocks his head. “All right now, no need to get all persnickety. Maybe he got held up or something.”
I chew on my bottom lip until I remember I’m wearing lipstick, and I’m ready to go. He crosses the room and rubs my arms up and down to calm my nerves. “Go, have fun, meet some people, flirt, be fancy.”
“Okay.” I grab my tiny silver handbag and stop at the door with my hand on the knob. “Jacob?”
“Yeah, honey.”
“What am I supposed to wear for a coat? I don’t have anything that will go with this getup.”
He folds his arms over his chest thinking. “You’re going downstairs to get into a warmed-up limo, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And I’m assuming that same limo will bring you home later tonight.”
“Yeah, I guess so. If not, I’ll grab an Uber.”
“So you’re good, you don’t need a coat that bad. Just hustle from the car to the front door.”
“Why can’t you be a girl who dresses like this regularly, so you could let me borrow your perfect shoulder wrap?”
“Sorry, kid, God gave me an extra part. What can I say?”
I smile and pull the door open. “Have fun tonight, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” I call over my shoulder.
“Same to you, honey,” he calls back, and the door closes.
The elevator doors open, and Alex is standing there looking like he just stepped off the cover of Gentleman’s Quarterly in a tuxedo with his dark hair slicked back holding a box.
“Oh, I was just coming down.”
“And I was coming up,” he says, his eyes combing over every inch of me from the tip of my head to my red toenails and back up. “You are even more stunning than I imagined you’d be.” He closes his eyes and makes a face that looks like he is in pain. A moment later, his eyes open, and he steps off the elevator. Before I can warn him that the doors will close, and we will have to wait for it to return, he opens the box pulling out a white fur coat letting the thick box fall to the floor.
“I thought you might need a coat to go with the dress.”
My mouth hangs open as he walks behind me and slips it on running his hands down the arms of the soft coat. He moves closer, and I can feel his warm breath on my ear and the back of my bare neck. “Perfection,” he growls, and suddenly I’m roasting hot inside the coat.
My head is swimming with the masculine scent of his cologne and the electricity flowing between us, so much so that I stand there dumbly waiting for whatever is going to happen next.
“Warm enough?” he says in that same seductive, slow, hypnotic voice, and all I can do is whimper out a weak yes. He pulls away, and his hand is at the small of my back guiding me into the opening elevator. How did it get back so quick? Maybe we’ve been standing here longer than I thought?
“Thank you for joining me tonight.”
I frown and turn to look at him, but his eyes are straight ahead. “I didn’t have much choice if you will remember,” I say finally finding my voice and breaking the spell he cast upstairs.
“Mmm, I was hoping that was still in there.” His eyes are still focused on the doors, but the smirk on his face is smug and full of mischief.
“What?”
“Your spark, that sassy mouth of yours. I was hoping it wasn’t just a one-time thing.”
“Well, you can be rest assured it wasn’t.”
“Good.”
The doors open, and he guides me out like I don’t know where I’m going. His hand on my back both irritates me and turns me on.
I decide to try some chitchat to lessen the intense sexual tension between us. Where is that coming from anyway? I’ve never slept with this man, but for some reason, every time I’m in his presence, it’s all I can think about.
“So, where is this party? Who’s our host?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“A surprise New Year’s Eve party? Isn’t that kind of a hard thing to pull off? Who are you surprising?”
He glances over with a playful expression. “It isn’t a surprise party… the location and host are a surprise to you.”
I feel the skin between my eyebrows pucker into a frown. A surprise for me? But why? We step outside, and I’m thankful he brought me a coat. It’s chilly and misting, a mixture of sleet and snow. The walk has been shoveled so walking on it in heels is no trouble at all. A tall man dressed in a formal chauffeur’s coat and cap stands next to the limo, a different driver from today.
“Lang,” Alex says nodding at the man.
“Sir,” the man returns.
“Watch your step, hold my hand,” Alex says taking hold of my hand and helping me into the warm car. I slide across the plush seat with him right behind me.
When the door closes, he laces his fingers with mine like we are an old married couple who holds hands everywhere we go. I’m not complaining, I love the constant contact.
“Tell me about yourself, Olivia.”
Oh boy, this ought to be good. “What would you like to know?”
“Everything, anything, whatever you feel comfortable sharing.”
“Okay, I’m twenty-seven years old.” I pause and wait for a reaction, but he just looks at me waiting for me to continue, so I do. “I grew up in California. I have a roommate named Jacob, and I’ve known him since we were kids.”
“Is he gay?”
I jerk my head back. “What kind of question is that?”
“The kind of question a man who is interested in a woman might ask about her very handsome roommate.”
“Oh, well, yes, in that case, he is.”
“Gay gay or bisexual?”
I frown again. “Jacob is just gay, not that it’s any of your business.”
He smiles, and the urge to roll my eyes is strong.
“I’m glad to know it. Go on.”
“I moved here to start a business and to get away from Stockton.”
“Mmm, Stockton, I see.”
“Yeah, anyway, that’s pretty much it. The Bark Avenue Bone Bakery has done very well, and I’m getting ready to make it a chain.”
“You must be very proud of yourself, that’s a big accomplishment.”
The way he says that makes me feel like there is more to his compliment like, that’s a big accomplishment for someone as poor as you or that’s a big accomplishment for a woman.
“What do you mean by that?” I ask with an edge of defensiveness, and his face twists in confusion.
“What do I mean by what? It was a compliment. That’s when one person says something nice to another person to make them feel good. Clearly, I missed my mark with that one.”
“Huh?”
He shifts in the seat to face me full-on and looks at me like he’s dealing with a small child. “I meant to make you feel good by telling you that, but you’re angry. Why?”
He’s right, I am mad, but I don’t know why. I’m so damn defensive, it’s a natural instinct having had to fight so hard for everything all my life.
I lower my eyes to the seat between us. “I’m sorry. Thank you, I don’t know what came over me.”
He squeezes my hand and dips his head down to force me to look at him. “It’s all right. I’m sure you’ve worked very hard to fulfill your dreams. Is that why you’re defensive?”
How did he know that? Was it a lucky guess, research, an unearthly cosmic connection to my brain? Get a grip, Olivia, he’s just a man—a lean, sculpted, beautiful god of a man, but still a man.
“I suppose so.”
“I understand. I used to feel the same way when I was younger. I was an honor student in high school. I took every advanced class offered, and when I graduated, I went straight to college and then law school. I achieved a lot in a shorter amount of time than my peers, and they were always jealous. It led to a lonely existence for a few years, but it was worth it.”
“You were lonely?”
“I was. I had no time for a social life. I was hyper-focused on wh
ere I wanted to be and what I needed to do to get there. Setting relationships and friendships aside for a few years was hardly a sacrifice.”
“How old are you?” I blurt out and instantly wish I could take back my rude words.
“How old do you think I am?”
“I guess I deserve that, don’t I? I’m sorry, it was a rude question to ask.”
“No, it’s quite all right. I want to know, though, how old do you think I am? I’m surprised you haven’t googled me to find out.”
I lower my eyes back down to the seat. “Well…”
“Ah, so you have been doing your research, good girl. Couldn’t find my birthdate, though?”
I didn’t, but I wasn’t really trying. I’d guessed him to be in his forties, and I wasn’t worried much about it. “I wasn’t really looking for your age.”
“You weren’t? Why is that?”
“I figured you were in your late thirties or early forties.”
“And that’s okay with you?”
“Yes. Age isn’t as important as compatibility. Two people can be the same age and still not be compatible.”
“True, that’s very wise of you. I am fifty years old.”
Fifty? Wow, he looks great for his age. Without thinking, I give him a once-over, and he starts to laugh his sexy smooth-as-silk laugh that makes me squeeze my legs together.
“I’m sorry, that wasn’t nice. I’m only forty-one. I just wanted to see your face when you thought I was fifty. What were you thinking just now?”
“I was thinking you look damn good for fifty.”
His eyes narrow and darken, and the air in the limo snaps with sexual electricity. If I’d known him a little bit longer, that look would have me crawling into his lap and doing things a lady shouldn’t even think of doing on a first date.
“Now that was a compliment. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
As fast as the heavy sexual undertones came upon us, they dissipate, and he goes back to chitchatting about my life.
“Your parents, are they still in Stockton?”
“My father walked out on my mother and me when I was two. My mother has MS and lives in a nursing home in San Diego.”
“I’m sorry, you didn’t have it easy from the sounds of it.”
“No, I didn’t let it stop me, though. In fact, I think it made me fight harder. I like to be challenged.”
“So do I.” And there it is again, the darkening of his eyes, his thumb stroking the side of my hand, the undercurrent of heat between us. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”
He does but in all the best ways. “No, I mean yes a little, but not in a negative way if that’s what you mean.” I squirm in the seat and fidget with the fur of my coat.
“I’ve found that being somewhat uncomfortable can be a good thing.”
I give him a side-glance. “How’s that?”
“It takes being uncomfortable to appreciate the times you have no reason to be.”
I think about that for a moment and realize two things. One, Alex is wise, and two, that makes me more attracted to him if that were possible.
“I agree.”
He straightens his tie and shifts in his seat. “Of course, you do, you’re an intelligent, independent, beautiful woman,” he says with an air of superiority that is both insulting and attractive.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, it is. I wouldn’t have asked you out if you weren’t.”
“So you go for the hot, smart girls then, huh?”
“I’m going for one hot, smart woman, yes. I’m not a player. I like one relationship at a time, and I haven’t been interested in anyone for over a year.”
Over a year? This beautiful specimen hasn’t been involved with anyone since Lilly?
“So, there hasn’t been anyone since Lilly?”
“No, no one.”
“Why me?” I ask before thinking as I typically do. Don’t ask why Olivia, he might start to wonder himself.
“I believe I just told you why. Smart, sexy, intelligent, beautiful, successful, and independent. What else could I ask for?”
“Thank you for the compliment,” I say making a point of accepting his compliment this time. “But, what if I have some deep-seeded neurosis or an incredibly annoying habit that drives you mad?” There I go again, sabotaging my chances with this man.
“Do you?”
“Well, no, I don’t think so.”
“Then we have nothing to worry about. I can assure you I have neither of those things either. Stop trying to drive me away before we finish our first date. I like you, I like you a lot, and I plan on making this work.”
“Making what work?” As far as I know, we are just two people holding hands in a limo on our way to a New Year’s Eve party on our first date. There’s nothing to make work yet.
“Us, you and me. I have a good feeling, and I know you feel it, too. When we share a space, I know you do. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced with a woman. I know nearly nothing about you, but you feel like home to me when I touch you.”
My mouth falls open, and I close it with a snap. My heart is melting in my chest, and it feels like the back of the limo is closing in on me. I can’t breathe. I feel the same way and hearing him say it out loud is a shock.
“See? I can tell from the expression on your face you can’t believe I said what you’ve felt since I walked into your shop earlier this week. It’s kismet. My housekeeper was ill, and my dogs will not behave without your biscuits. The universe made all that happen, so I would end up in your shop, and we would meet.”
Who could argue with that? Who would want to? Not me.
“I… I do feel different with you, but I’m not sure it’s the same kind of different.”
“How so?”
Shit, how am I supposed to explain that? I can’t tell him he irritates me because he’s rich and powerful, or I’ll sound like a judgmental brat.
“I guess the best way to put it is, you’re intimidating.”
“That’s not always a bad thing either.”
I raise one eyebrow. “If you say so.”
“I do, and if I’m half as intimidating as you believe I am, you won’t question me on that ever again.”
Yikes. The authority in his voice will make sure of that. If he wants me to be uncomfortable and intimidated, he’s succeeding.
The car turns off the road into a secluded driveway blocked by a large gate. The driver presses a button like a garage door opener on his visor, and the gate swings open slowly. I’m itching to ask again whose party we are attending, but I keep my mouth shut and wait for the surprise.
The road to the house is dark. When we reach the end, I can’t help but gasp at the incredible and very old mansion sitting nestled in the tall evergreen trees. It’s mammoth and lit up beautifully with millions of tiny twinkling white Christmas lights.
If this is his colleague’s home, and he’s the boss, I can’t imagine what kind of house Alex lives in.
I can feel him watching my reaction. I tear my gaze from the house to look at him. “I have never in my life seen a house this big or this gorgeous. Your friend must be very successful.”
“Oh, he is. It is beautiful, isn’t it? It’s a historic mansion built in 1927. Some say it’s haunted, but I don’t believe in things like that.”
He isn’t superstitious, good, neither am I. “That’s amazing, I can’t wait to see the inside.”
“Let’s not hesitate then.” The car arrives at the front steps at that exact moment, and the driver jumps out to open our door. I don’t see a lot of cars. Maybe it’s a small intimate New Year’s party? Or maybe we are early? Either way, I have a funny feeling about the evening ahead of us.
9
Alex exits and holds out his hand for me. Outside, the cool air helps to clear my head. I’m feeling intoxicated by all things Alex after being trapped in such a small space with him for so long. It feels good to purge my lungs of him for a
moment, but the relief doesn’t last long when he hugs me tight against his side and leads me up the stairs to keep me from falling in my heels.
He stops us right outside the huge wooden double doors and turns me to face him. “I must admit I have lied to you, Olivia.”
Oh God, here it comes. He’s not really who he says he is. This isn’t his friend’s house, he’s bankrupt, he’s a drug dealer, a million possible lies swarm in my head like bees while I wait for him to break the news. I should have known. Mama always said, if it feels too good to be true, most likely it is.
“This is my house, and the only people on the guest list are you and me.”
What? “Seriously? You had me get all buffed and sparkly for New Year’s Eve, and it’s only us?”
“Am I not enough for you, Olivia?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean then?” he asks, not accusingly but sounding curious.
“I thought there was going to be a big bash, that’s how you made it sound. And what about the friend you RSVP’d? You made me feel guilty for wanting to cancel with that line.”
“We should all be our own best friend, Olivia. I RSVP’d myself, and I will not apologize for making you believe otherwise.”
“Because you got what you wanted.”
“Yes, precisely.”
Well, I guess I can’t fault him for that. It’s a little shady. He could have just asked me if I’d come to dinner with him at his house on New Year’s… never mind, he was right to lie. I would have never accepted an invitation like that especially since I was trying to get out of it in the first place.
“Come inside, dinner should be almost ready.”
“You never mentioned dinner, but then again you never mentioned a lot of things.”
“Be nice, Olivia.”
Be nice? I am being nice. He’s the one who manipulated me into having a private dinner with him. “Only if you promise you’re not going to throw me into a well and fatten me up so you can make a skin dress.”
His eyes widen, and the corner of his mouth twitches as if he is trying to suppress a smile. “Silence of the Lambs, Olivia? Really? I’m not interested in anything but your company and your body.”
