“What’s the occasion?” I asked, powering down my computer. It was a few minutes after five on a Friday night.
“Dinner with a blind date,” he said, inspecting the ties critically. “Some girl my friend went to school with. She’s a graphic designer, likes glam rock, and runs marathons. That’s all I know about her, which is why I’m coming up empty in the tie selection endeavor.”
If Anton thought selecting the right tie was the be-all-end-all when it came to getting a second date, I understood why he was still single.
“The checked one,” I said, tapping it with the end of my pen.
The skin between his brows lined. “So confident. So certain,” he said, holding the checked tie up. “How did you decide?”
I used the Pythagorean theorem and square-rooted the null set. I was an insufferable smart-ass.
“It’s the one I like,” I said, shrugging.
Anton’s face relaxed. Nodding, he appraised the tie with new eyes. “The checked one it is,” he said, heading back for his office. “Thanks, Lucy. Have a nice weekend.”
“Do you need anything else?” I asked, already shouldering my purse. I had our first ever Friday-night dinner to prepare for five tonight, and, while Anton had been true to his word and not brought my relationship up again this week, I felt uncomfortable being alone with him.
And it made me mad. Other than some harmless flirting, Anton had been a true gentleman, going so far as to walk me to my car every night to make sure I got to it safely. I shouldn’t feel uneasy to be alone with another man, and the fact that I did made me even more uneasy.
“No, it’s quitting time,” he said from his office. “I’m out of here, too, so I’ll walk you out.” Reappearing with the checked tie in place and a tweed vest instead of his suit jacket, he held open the office door and waited for me.
I turned off the lights and went through the door as fast as I could. He’d put on some cologne that was spicy and sweet-smelling, and the fact that I noticed set me on edge.
We walked in silence to the elevator, and our silence dragged on while we waited for it.
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Anton asked.
“When you ask those kinds of questions, yeah, you do,” I said, almost bolting inside the elevator as soon as the doors opened.
Anton took one giant step inside and stopped in front of me. “Why?”
I found it hard to believe that he needed to ask me why. “Because of the way you’re looking at me right now. And because of the things you say.” I took a couple steps back until I was up against the elevator wall. “You’re my boss. You’re my friend’s brother. You can’t look at me like that, or say those kinds of things to me.”
“Why?” he asked, tilting his head.
His calm, one-word replies were starting to piss me off.
“Because,” the genius inside me answered.
“I’ve been in relationships with women who have worked with me, Lucy,” he said, looking at me too intently. “And I’ve been in relationships with my sister’s friends. Believe me, that’s not what’s stopping me from pursuing you.”
Shit. That look on his face, combined with the tone of his voice, made me wish I could put another five feet of space between us. Thankfully, the elevator jostled to a stop and the doors opened. I was out of those doors faster than I thought I could move.
“So, yeah, there it is,” Anton said, rushing up beside me. I’ll take “Get a Clue” for a thousand, Alex. “I’m attracted to you, Lucy. I want to pursue you, and I want you to want to be pursued by me.”
If I didn’t reply, could I wake up tomorrow and pretend none of this had happened? I shoved through the revolving door and powered toward the Mazda.
“But I won’t act on my attraction out of respect for—”
I spun on him. This was too much, too late in the day. “Out of respect for a guy who would kill you where you stood if he ever found out what you just said?”
He shook his head. “No. Out of respect for you.”
I laughed harshly. “You’ve got one hell of a way of showing respect for me,” I said, fumbling with my keys.
“I respect you enough to tell you the truth,” he said, stepping to the side when I swung the door open. “I want you to know you’ve got options.”
I bit my cheek to keep from nailing him with words I’d regret later. “I don’t want options.”
“Sure you do,” he said. “Every girl does.” And those words, paired with his expression, which was way too condescending for my liking, brought the words I’d been trying to keep under wraps right to the surface.
“Go fuck yourself, Anton,” I fired off before slamming the door and peeling out of the parking lot, never once checking the rearview mirror.
I was quivering. Shaking from the emotions that were spilling out of me. It felt like every emotion possible was present and accounted for, although the loudest ones were anger and confusion. Anger for the obvious reasons. Anton had no right to say those things to me, an engaged woman. Not to mention, an engaged woman who was also his employee. No right at all.
Confusion because I didn’t understand why Anton had said them in the first place. He was intelligent and purposeful to a fault. He didn’t do things on a whim, so I could assume he’d planned this whole spilling-of-the-guts elevator ride. And that confused and pissed me off more.
My life was complicated enough already. I didn’t need some guy I’d just met in person five days ago professing his attraction to me. Anton either had a screw loose or was overconfident. Neither was a recipe for an acceptable “option,” like he’d said.
Not that I wanted options in the first place.
Dammit. Now I was thinking about options, thanks to my lovely boss screwing with my Friday night.
I wanted to call Jude. I wanted to tell him everything that happened and everything I was feeling about it. I wanted to talk to my best friend about all of it. Unfortunately in this case, my best friend also happened to be the guy I loved, and the guy I loved would fly off the handle—and across the country in a heartbeat—if he knew any other man, Anton especially, had said those kinds of things to me.
So I didn’t call him. Instead I glowered at the road and threw a few punches into the steering wheel. By the time I got home, I felt better. And worse. Better because I reminded myself that no matter what any guy said or did, I’d never love anyone but Jude. It felt good to be reminded of this. And worse because I was going to be jobless again come Monday morning. I couldn’t . . . no, I wouldn’t work for a man who confessed to having a thing for me. That was a whole heap of drama I didn’t need in my life right now. Not to mention I’d just told my boss to fuck himself. I might not have a ton of job experience, but I knew I was on my way to getting myself fired on the spot.
As I headed up to my apartment, I forced myself to shelve the Anton issue and forget about it until Sunday night, when I had to call him and tell him to put an ad in the paper for a new admin. I was going to enjoy tonight. It wasn’t often I was able to have some of my best friends in the same place, and I wasn’t going to ruin it by moping.
So Anton was attracted to me. Big deal. It was a free country and he could be attracted to whomever he wanted. As of right now, his attraction was out of my mind.
Heading down the hall, I could already smell dinner and hear laughter streaming from the apartment. I was grinning by the time I opened the door.
“Aunt Luce!” LJ greeted me as soon as I came through the door, like he was standing guard.
“LJ!” I greeted him back, sniffing the air. Chicken enchiladas, one of my faves.
“Right this way,” he said in a dignified voice, before grabbing my hand and pulling me into the bathroom.
“What are you up to, crazy man?” I laughed as he towed me along. He was strong for an almost-four-year-old.
“I picked out some jammies and slippers for you,” he said, pointing at them balanced on the sink ledge. “Once you’re comfy, we can have some d
inner and I’ll even bring you your plate.” His face was so lit up with excitement, it rubbed off on me.
“Thank you, kind sir,” I said, bowing formally. “But to what do I owe the honor of all this special treatment?”
“Mom says you’ve been working hard all week and you’re our angel and you deserve some DLC,” he recited, backing out of the bathroom.
“You mean TLC?”
He rolled his eyes at me. “Nope. DLC.”
I covered my mouth to keep from laughing. “Well, I’m looking forward to my DLC tonight.”
He beamed before shutting the door. The next sound I heard was his footsteps pounding into the kitchen as he shouted, “She’s getting comfy! She’s getting comfy! I want to pour her cup of apple juice now!”
I couldn’t get out of my skirt and blouse fast enough. I’d worn the same black skirt twice this week, thanks to my lack of business attire, and I had been hoping to remedy that sometime this weekend. Maybe now instead of getting new outfits, I could get LJ a new pair of swimming trunks so we could swim at the public pool.
LJ had clearly handpicked my jammies for the night without any help from Holly. The top he’d gotten right. I always wore some variety of a camisole to bed. However, he’d matched it with a pair of Jude’s boxers that had four-leaf clovers on them that read, GET LUCKY, and then, to top it off, LJ had loaned me his slide-on slippers featuring the most terrifying of the Yo Gabba Gabba! characters: the red, warty dude with one eye.
Once I’d slid into my tank and hiked Jude’s boxers into place, I squeezed on the slippers. Only because I couldn’t resist, I took a good look in the mirror and burst out laughing. This outfit was too rad not to share. Snapping a picture with my phone, I typed a quick message: BET YOU WISH YOU WERE HERE TO ENJOY ALL THIS SEXINESS, before sending it to Jude.
Opening the door, I rolled my shoulders back and turned that hallway into a runway.
India was the first to catch sight of me working it, and the beer she’d been sipping shot straight out of her nose.
Sputtering and laughing at the same time, she nudged Holly, who was chopping up a head of lettuce. “You go, girl!” India said, snapping her fingers. “You get on with your bad self!”
Holly, followed by Thomas, burst into laughter next, tossing in a few whistles and catcalls for good measure.
I came to a stop at the kitchen and struck a pose. More laughter. India even let a snort pop out, which, of course, only made everyone laugh harder.
While I was busy holding my pose, a little hand grabbed mine. “You look beautiful, Aunt Luce,” LJ said, his voice and face full of awe.
“All thanks to you,” I said, clicking my slippers together like Dorothy before heading over to the sink. “What do you guys need help with?”
“Just stay out of the way,” Thomas whispered, nudging me as he upended a bag of chips into a bowl. “India was ready to cut a bitch when I dropped the cilantro on the floor.”
“I heard that, Tinker Bell,” India said, shooting a glare Thomas’s way.
“Sure, go for the easy insult. Yes, yes, I am a male dancer who’s majoring in ballet,” he said, flinging a chip India’s way. “You’re just jeals because my butt looks better in a pair of jeans than yours does.”
“Enough already, you two,” Holly ordered, bringing a bowl of guacamole our way. “I’ve been playing referee all afternoon and I’m done.”
“He insulted my butt,” India said, hiking a hand onto her hip.
“I didn’t insult it,” Thomas responded. “I just stated that mine, in fact, is nicer to look at.”
When I realized I’d been washing my hands the whole time India and Thomas had been snapping back and forth, I shut off the water.
Groaning, Holly slammed the bowl down on the counter. “Fine. India, turn around,” she demanded, twirling her finger in the air. India didn’t argue; she even popped her hip to the side to sway the ass vote her way. “Nice. I give it a nine out of ten.”
Only India would be insulted that her ass had just been ranked a nine out of ten.
“Okay, Thomas. Your turn,” Holly said, waiting, but Thomas wasn’t moving. He was frozen in place.
Familiar with that deer-in-the-headlights look, I helped him out. Grabbing his shoulders, I spun him around. I even tucked in his tee and highlighted his derriere with my hands, Vanna White style.
Inspecting Thomas, Holly tilted her head to one side, then the other, before her eyes went a little dreamy. Coming up behind him, Holly slapped both hands into Thomas’s cheeks and squeezed.
He jolted with surprise, but didn’t put up any argument.
“Thomas wins,” Holly announced, giving his butt a little love pat before retrieving her bowl of guacamole.
“Whatever.” India sulked, carrying a tray of enchiladas to the table. “What I got back here’s a perfect ten, baby.”
“Taste this,” Holly said, sticking a finger topped by a dollop of guac in front of my mouth.
“Eww, no way. I don’t like avocados.” I wrinkled my nose and sidestepped her before she shoved her finger into my mouth.
“Thomas, you try then.” Lifting her finger to Thomas’s mouth, she paused. Maybe because of the way Thomas was looking at her, or maybe because of the way she was looking at him, but it was clear they were both very conscious of each other.
Her other hand dropped to the bend of his elbow right before he opened his mouth. Holly slipped her finger inside and, just as Thomas’s lips closed around it, LJ came running into the room.
“I didn’t spill even a little bit,” he announced proudly as he set the pitcher on the counter.
This shook them both out of their stupor. Clearing her throat, Holly pulled her finger back. “What do you think? Too spicy?”
Thomas looked like he’d need a two-by-four to the head to clear his mind. I was about to go searching for one when he shook his head. “No.”
I supposed a lame one-word reply was better than no reply.
“Maybe not enough salt?” Holly suggested, looking everywhere but at Thomas. Her eyes had suddenly become allergic to him. “There’s definitely something missing.”
Thomas’s face got all deliberate. “From where I’m standing,” he said, “it’s pretty darn perfect.”
I was beginning to feel like a third wheel, so I started making my way to the table when a knock sounded at the door.
“Yay! He’s here,” India said, clapping as she rushed to the door. “Someone who will be on my side.”
I didn’t know India was going to invite her latest boy toy over for the night, not that she would have cared if I knew or approved or not. I was contemplating dodging behind my room dividers so I could change when she threw the door open.
“Anton!” she said, tossing her arms around his neck.
Anton. My exact same response, minus the enthusiasm. Actually, with the complete opposite of enthusiasm.
He was still in his checked tie and vest when India dragged him inside. He had the decency to make an apologetic face when he looked my way. That was, until he really saw me. Or saw what I was wearing. He was grinning by the time he got to the slippers, but that grin died as soon as he noticed the look I was leveling on him.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, sounding as impolite as a person could. “I thought you had some sort of hot blind date tonight.”
“The bitch canceled on him last-minute,” India answered for him, “and when my big brother texted me that for the first time ever, he’d been stood up, I couldn’t not invite him over to our first Friday-night dinner to lick his wounds. Besides, we’ve got Corona on ice, and Mama made some Jell-O shooters for the after-little-man-goes-to-bed party,” she said, nodding over at LJ, who was too busy tossing his football up in the air to pay us any attention.
“You don’t mind, do you, Lucy?” India asked, finally taking a second to look at me.
Instead of smacking Anton square across the face like I wanted to, I plastered on a fake smile. “No, why would I
mind?” I said, going to the kitchen to grab another place setting. “Why wouldn’t I want my boss and my friend’s brother to join us for dinner?”
I was laying it on thick. That was obvious from the way Holly and Thomas were studying me, like I’d tripped a wire in my brain or something.
“I’m sensing the sarcasm,” India said, when I marched back to the table and slapped a plate down.
“You mean I wasn’t subtle?”
“Not exactly,” she said, as I took out a little frustration on the napkin I was folding. “Bad day at work?” she guessed.
“Understatement,” I muttered before I looked up and caught Anton staring at my cleavage. So much for Saint Anton who was impervious to what was south of a woman’s neck.
“I’m going to go,” Anton said, lifting his hands and retreating toward the door.
“Best idea you’ve had all day,” I said, crossing my arms.
“Hold up, you two,” India said, grabbing her brother’s arm and pulling him back. “What in the H-E-L-L is going on here?”
Thomas and Holly had drifted up to the table and were watching the whole thing like it was one big ol’ train wreck they couldn’t look away from.
“I can answer that with four words,” I said, crossing my arms tighter. “Anton is an A-S-S.” I glanced over at LJ, who was oblivious. Nothing but him and his football. I mourned that kind of simplicity.
India’s face scrunched up while Anton’s dropped. “You’re right. I was an”—he glanced over at LJ—“A-S-S. A huge, insensitive one. And I’m sorry.” He took a few steps my direction but stopped once I stiffened. “Will you forgive me?”
“Will you promise to stop acting like a huge, insensitive A-S-S?”
“I can’t guarantee that,” he said. “But I can promise that I’ll try.” A couple steps closer, until I could smell that damned cologne of his. “So? Forgiven?”
“Forgiven? I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “But you can stay.” Wanting to put some space between us, I headed back into the kitchen. I was tempted to hack up the other half head of lettuce just to get some of my frustration out, but held myself back.
Crush Page 16
