Constellation Page 4
I inhaled to settle my nerves and approached Tracie’s desk.
She was involved in a phone call, so I set my coffee cup down on the ledge that divided the reception area and her personal workspace. She looked up and waved good morning while she listened to the person on the other end of the line. A white coffee cup sat on her desk, ignored while she tended to her duties.
Tracie enjoyed her Starbucks, too, and as I stared at the all too familiar logo I thought about Jack Evans and his mouth roaming over my body.
When she transferred the call, I giggled while she exhaled. Whether it was from her reaction to the caller or because I needed to release pent up tension from my body, I wasn’t sure.
“Good morning,” she greeted me.
“And to you,” I answered. “How was your weekend?”
“Good. I went dancing Saturday night. I kept an eye open but didn’t see you. Did you go out?”
“No. I stayed home. I needed a weekend in.”
“What time did you get out of here Friday night?”
Friday night. I’d opted to work late and Jack had the same idea. My body tingled with desire as I recalled how Jack had noticed my office light still on and wandered in to say hello. He’d leaned against the wall next to my door and tucked his hands into his pockets. By doing so, Jack had drawn my eye to his hips, and not for the first time. I’d admired the pose since I’d first witnessed it during his introductory staff meeting.
Realizing Tracie was waiting for an answer, I pulled myself from my reverie.
“Not too late. Seven or seven thirty, I think.”
In fact, the time had been 7:18, but I didn’t want to say so to her. I knew the time because I’d glanced at the clock after Jack asked me to dinner. I couldn’t say why I made note of the time, but now I knew I’d never forget that moment for the rest of my life.
Tracie and I soon fell into our regular chitchat, and I lingered at her desk longer than usual. I welcomed the distraction of hearing about her weekend. Tracie’s carefree and energetic manner made me smile and her vitality filled my spirit. My mood lightened with each passing moment.
I heard the approach of familiar footsteps and steeled myself. When Jack appeared around the corner, my heart actually fluttered. He was tall without towering over those next to him, and his build was strong without appearing too muscular. His appearance was conservative to the unobserving eye, but each item of his clothing was contemporary.
Today, he was dressed in navy trousers with a matching blazer and a blue and white checked shirt. He cared about his outward appearance, but he didn’t intend to draw attention to it. As he reached the side of Tracie’s desk, I noticed the top two buttons of his shirt were open. I was riveted to the sight of his skin where the column of his neck met his chest and thought about his touch just before I left his house. I yearned to reciprocate the favor with urgency.
“Good morning, ladies.” Jack held up his coffee cup in greeting, and I smiled when I saw that he carried a Dutch Bros. cup in his hand.
“Good morning, Jack,” I answered, praying that my giddiness was well hidden. I pointed toward his beverage. “No Starbucks today?”
He shook his head. “My daughter suggested to me that I’ve been missing out by sticking to that routine.”
Tracie laughed. “Your daughter said that?”
He grinned in my direction. Heide must have told him about our conversation in his bedroom. His expression, however, gave nothing away to Tracie.
I was flattered and emboldened. “Switching coffee places on a Monday morning is pretty daring,” I flirted.
Jack shrugged and winked in my direction. “Oh. I haven’t committed to switching coffee places. Just trying something different.”
He turned and began to saunter toward his office, and just like that my good mood was obliterated. I assumed Jack was referring to more than the goddamned coffee.
I beg your fucking pardon?
Rage infiltrated every fiber of my body, but somehow I managed to hang on to my self-control long enough to walk away from Tracie’s desk and back to my office. By the time I swept through the doorway and slammed the door I no longer cared if the entire building heard it.
I SPENT the morning pissed off over Jack’s comment. I couldn’t help it. Despite telling myself multiple times to forget about the whole thing, I fumed in my office.
I attempted to occupy myself with work, but then something would distract me and bring back the stinging memory of his words. When my office phone would ring, I would check the display, hoping and dreading I’d see Jack’s name on the screen. I was annoyed that I was eager to hear from him, although I wasn’t sure how I would have answered his call.
I became more irritated when I’d check my e-mail as soon as a message notification flashed on my computer monitor. I wanted to see his name, even though I was inclined to reply in shouty caps.
The hours passed by and neither happened. No call. No e-mail. Nothing. With a frown I realized the treatment was not unlike the morning I woke up in his bed.
I pushed back from my keyboard, sat back in my office chair and attempted to chase away my frustrations and settle my emotions. I tried to process my weekend with logic.
Jack was interested in me on a deeper level. He’d wanted to serve me breakfast in bed and when that didn’t work out, he’d asked me to stay anyhow. He’d invited me to Heide’s game. He’d expressed his attraction to me as well as an interest in seeing me again. And when he’d made that comment about Dutch Bros. earlier this morning, he’d winked at me. He had been flirty and open-minded about trying new things.
And what had I done?
I’d blown a gasket and locked myself inside my office. Then I’d spent the morning acting almost manic as I waited for him to initiate first contact.
I’d long suspected Robert had fucked me up. Now I had proof.
To make matters worse, we were both scheduled to attend the same meeting this afternoon. We were working together on the upcoming annual client lunch in Portland the agency hosted for some of the firm’s longtime and loyal customers. Over the years, it had also proved to be an excellent means for recruiting new accounts. By bringing the senior management team out into the field, the event was a rare opportunity to meet with urban clients on their home turf rather than attempting to lure prospects down to Bend.
It was one of the signature events for our firm, and Jack and I were part of the planning committee while Robert served as our project manager. The thought of sitting in a confined meeting room with these two men, today in particular, was unnerving. I could think of nothing more complicated and awkward than the upcoming meeting later in the day.
Wanting to make sure I made my best impression at this meeting, I fell into a work routine of sorts. By lunchtime, I needed a break from the office to calm my stress once and for all. I left, taking a route that wouldn’t take me by either man’s office, and opted for a nearby Chinese restaurant to indulge in some hot tea and teriyaki chicken.
Soon after I received my appetizer, Jack arrived looking as fresh and polished as when he’d strolled into the office carrying that fucking Dutch Bros. cup. He hadn’t even removed his blazer, as many of the other men would have done over the course of the workday. Maybe that was an East Coast thing.
He noticed me just as soon as he sat down at his table but didn’t join me. Once he placed his order, he seemed resigned to stay at his chosen table.
I shifted most of my attention away from Jack, but I caught him staring at me in my peripheral vision. I’d brought some work along to review, vindicated that I now had the opportunity to pay minimal attention to him for a few minutes.
My lunch arrived and I continued working while eating. If I stopped, it was possible Jack would try talking to me again, and it wasn’t what I wanted. With such an important meeting less than an hour away, I didn’t want the sexy side of Jack Evans to distract me.
I attempted to take a bite of my chicken while reading over my documen
ts and some of the sauce dripped. While the material of my blouse was spared, the hot teriyaki landed on the top of my right breast. As soon as it made contact with my delicate skin, the instinct to avoid being scalded kicked in. I grabbed a napkin and dabbed my breast while holding my shirt away from my body.
With my blouse pulled away from my chest, I glanced in his direction, and my worst fears were confirmed. He was watching my debacle, and when he made eye contact with me, he didn’t look away. I was appalled. He rediscovered his confidence.
He gathered up his things and sat down in my booth across from me.
I was stunned and still holding out my shirt.
“It seems ridiculous not to sit together.”
I pulled my shirt back into place and set my napkin down on the table. “My food is already here.”
“So?”
“Yours isn’t ready yet. We’re staggered.”
Jack smiled, and I wondered if he found that quirk in my personality silly or attractive.
He winked. “I won’t mention it to the boss if you take a few extra minutes at lunch today.” He was toying with me. “If you like, we can make a meeting out of it. Make an honest man out of me.”
I remained silent. After the morning’s events, I wasn’t sure I wanted Jack to flirt with me.
Jack tried another approach. “Did it hurt?” he asked with genuine concern.
“Huh?” My answer was less than intelligent.
“Did the sauce burn you?” he sounded apprehensive, and stared at my breast as though re-familiarizing himself with my body.
A shiver of desire radiated through me. “No,” I managed to say. “I’m all right.”
“Good.”
“I’m not sure this conversation is appropriate?”
“Probably not,” he agreed. “Let’s move on to something else.”
“Okay.”
“Can we see each other again sometime this week?”
“I’m not sure that’s appropriate either.”
“Is that a no?”
I wondered the same thing. Was I even capable of saying no to Jack after our passionate night together? I wanted so much to hold this connection, to strengthen our bond and to grow our mutual attraction. But then I remembered how hurt I was after waking up in his bed and being ignored. And how his comment from earlier in the morning stung.
“I can’t answer that now,” I admitted while biting the inside of my lip.
Jack accepted this and didn’t show any emotion from my potential rejection.
I took notice of this with a great deal of interest as he transitioned our conversation once more.
“There is something I’ve wanted to ask you.” He hesitated, furrowing his brow. “But there never seems to be an appropriate way to do it.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“Not sure if you’ll think so, but it’s interesting to me.”
I allowed the smallest amount of hope to settle inside my chest as I cut to the chase. “What do you want to know?”
Jack fidgeted in his booth before asking the question. “How old are you?”
I smiled and suppressed the urge to burst out into laughter.
“What?” Jack asked but didn’t sound defensive. Perhaps he just wanted to know what was so amusing.
“My age? That’s it?”
He straightened his already rigid posture. “Some people are sensitive about that.”
Are you kidding me? After you ignored me in bed and insulted me at the office? This is the thing you’re worried will upset me?
“I suppose,” I answered with a subdued tone.
“Not you?”
“Not so far.”
Jack waited, but quickly reached for his glass of water. I put him out of his misery.
“I’m thirty-six.”
Jack nodded as he set the glass back down. His eyes telegraphed mild surprise as though he wasn’t expecting that number.
I was younger than Jack, but now that he’d asked the question, I wanted to hear a number from him, too. We had to start somewhere.
“And you? Are you sensitive about your age?”
He mumbled an evasive answer. “I wasn’t even married at thirty-six.”
“Neither am I.”
Jack laughed. “That’s good to know.”
He inhaled, revealing his answer on the exhale. “Forty-eight.”
I knew the look on my face showed my surprise. “Seriously?”
He nodded and shrugged, but didn’t break eye contact.
I surveyed his features, something I’d done many times before, but now I looked for something new to discover. Something that would confirm his claim. I had assumed he was in his forties, but now appreciated that he took more care with his appearance and his health than I’d given him credit for. With the exception of an occasional strand of silver in his hair and the rugged lines that caressed his eyes, his features were toned and smooth.
“Well, you are good-looking.” I wasn’t ashamed to tell him so. “But damn. I thought maybe you were closer to my age.”
He tilted his head in surprise. “Even though I’m a divorced man with a seven-year-old daughter?”
I shook my head. “I have friends I grew up with who are on their second marriages and have kids in high school now. That’s not much of a barometer.”
As he considered my words, the first hints of self-consciousness broke through his carefully maintained exterior. “Maybe I should have told you. Before.”
Was he worried I’d think he was too old for me? This revelation was unanticipated. And adorable.
“It wouldn’t have made a difference to me,” I reassured him. “The outcome would’ve been the same. Unless, maybe I’m too young for you?”
He shook his head with vigor. “No. I asked because I realized I didn’t have a clue. Honestly, I’m relieved.”
Another surprising admission.
“You are?”
“I thought you were younger.”
I mulled this over for a few seconds before answering. “I can see that. I’m kind of juvenile for my age.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
It took me a moment to realize what Jack meant, and I thanked him for the compliment.
“I spoke to Allison yesterday.”
Changing the subject seemed to be a specialty of his, and I decided to pay more attention to that. As I pondered his latest statement, I discovered I didn’t recognize the name at all.
“Who?”
Jack’s face mirrored my own confusion. “Heide’s mother. My ex-wife.”
We were not yet done with the awkward portion of our impromptu lunch date.
I grimaced. “I’m sorry. I only met her the one time at your welcome reception.”
Jack waved his hand. “She called to speak with Heide, and I thought about how right you were that Allison shouldn’t hear about you from our daughter.”
“What did you say?” I asked, unable to restrain my curiosity.
“I didn’t go into detail, but I told her enough.”
This answer, of course, told me nothing. I wanted to press for more details, but the last thing I wanted during the lunchtime rush at a Chinese restaurant was to talk about how he described our sexual encounter to his ex-wife.
I opted for a slight shift in the conversation. “Allison is in Baltimore?”
Jack nodded while playing with a discarded sugar packet.
“Why did she leave?” The question was out before I had a chance to reconsider, and Jack’s brown eyes bore into mine with an expression I couldn’t define.
“What do you know?” His voice was quieter. Cautious.
“I don’t know anything.” It was an honest answer, although Jack’s sudden change in mood put me on edge.
“But you suspect plenty?”
His remark was offensive and laced with intensity. I struggled to maintain my composure. “No.”
Jack’s food arrived and the silence between us began to build. Th
e raw nerve I’d glimpsed in his bedroom the last time I mentioned Allison was now on full display. I was straying into unwelcome, dangerous territory, and although he’d been the one to bring up her name today, I understood he was not in an emotionally secure position to discuss the disintegration of his marriage.
“Never mind,” I said, hopeful that my tone of voice conveyed my sincerity. “It’s none of my business.”
Jack was silent and focused on stirring the food around his plate. After several moments, he leaned back into his seat. “She said I was more in love with my career than I was with her.”
While one part of me celebrated a breakthrough in our communication, a more insistent part knew there was more to the story.
“Were you?”
Jack answered without hesitation, his tone unapologetic. “My career is important. My family benefits if my career is successful.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
Jack shrugged and there was more silence between us.
As I waited to hear what he would say next, a sudden thought occurred to me. One that filled me with sadness and fear.
“Does that mean you’ll leave this job, too? If the opportunity presents itself?”
“Depends on the opportunity.”
“And where would that leave us?”
He blinked and brought his eyes back to mine for the first time in minutes. “Us?”
I couldn’t blame him for the astonishment in his tone. I was dumbfounded by my reaction, too. Three evenings before we’d slept together on a whim. And although Jack appeared interested in seeing me again, I had rebuffed him.
“Perhaps, yet another reason I should hold you at bay, Mr. Evans.” My response was terser than I anticipated.
His reaction was similar. “Don’t call me that.”
The silence thickened between us as we each rearranged the food on our plates without taking a bite. Our server passed by our table twice before stopping to check on the quality of our lunch. Once we both confirmed nothing was wrong with the food, she kept her distance.
“It’s not a bad thing,” I rambled, desperate to strike a truce before our scheduled meeting. “People take new jobs and move to new places all the time. Sometimes I wonder about whether or not I should have done that.”