Breene, K F - Growing Pains 01 (4 page)

Well, crap. She had to return it.
Sean could at least make use of it. No sense wasting twenty bucks.

With a sigh that made Mr.
Montgomery look like an amateur, she jumped up, card in hand, and set out. She’d
head straight into the lion’s den. She’d hold up her head, put all her logic
defenses on red alert, and hope he didn’t smell good enough to lick.

On the way down her heart was in
her throat and the base of her spine was tingling. If she was a prisoner, she’d
hear the steady beat of drums as she walked toward a firing squad.

This is pure stupid! This is what
he’s after.

He was backing her in a corner with
this one. It was a good play. Dang it!

Willing herself forward, she exited
the elevator. If she lost focus now, he’d have her. She couldn’t deny her
interest. Hell, no woman in the company even tried to deny interest—unless
they’d already been burned. But unlike the others, she could deny the desire to
make more out of it. She could deny the need for a date. She could deny the
craving for sweet talk. And she would deny it. She absolutely would!

In front of the closed office door
now.

Why am I so nervous? I survived Jim
behind closed doors—I can survive this guy!

She knocked.

The door opened with a swirl of
musk and sea breeze, Sean’s signature smell. No cologne today, thank the Lord.
It was all Sean.

He still smells like heaven.

The look of surprised pleasure
crossing his handsome face did not help the situation.

“Hi,” he said, glancing behind her.
Not seeing who he was expecting, vivid green eyes settled on hers as he quickly
relaxed, leaning against the door frame and letting his lips curl into a small
smile.

“What brings you down here?” His
voice was as close to a sexy purr as a masculine man could articulate.

Her legs started tingling and her
brain stuck to the side of her skull. She could barely hear over the pounding
of her heart. All she could think was, ABORT, ABORT, ABORT! Get the hell out of
there! You’re no match for him!!! Save yourself while you can!

Then a new, more terrifying thought
occurred to her. Did she remember deodorant that morning? Because she was
sweating like a trucker and it would be a mite embarrassing if she’d forgotten
deodorant.

“Uh, hi,” she stammered. She
shifted her weight to her right foot. That felt weird, so she shifted back. He
smiled devilishly. “I got your mug—my mug. Thanks.”

“Oh, no problem. Thought I could
try and at least put it back together so you could give it a proper burial.”

“I put it on my shelf. But um…I
can’t accept this.” She held out the gift card matter-of-factly, trying to
ignore the slow unraveling of her nerves. She didn’t have much time before her
clothes fell off by themselves.

~*~*~*~

Sean’s eyes flicked to Krista’s
hand and back to her eyes. He didn’t care about the card. He didn’t care about
the mug. He wanted to know what caused her to be so sad the other day. He
wanted to know why he made her nervous. He wanted her. Bad.

He kept his tone cool, though.
She’d run out of there faster than the roadrunner if she caught his arousal.
For some reason, she seemed to be genuinely surprised when people thought she
was beautiful. Or sexy. How could a woman, looking like she did, moving as if
the world was a giant water bed, not know what she did to the opposite sex? It
was the strangest thing.

Right now, he had to get his
toehold before John came down and broke up the party. Sean had a promise to
collect.

“It’s only $20. Least I could do.”

“No, I mean, I can’t accept
Starbucks.”

Sean’s head tilted and his brow furrowed.
He didn’t say anything.

“I am a
Seattle
girl,” Krista went on, trying unsuccessfully to hide a small tremor in her
voice. His balls tightened hopefully. “Starbucks is the enemy. Can’t set foot
inside one. Can’t do that to
Seattle
’s
Best coffee.”

Sean’s face lit up in
understanding, then fell again in confusion as Krista cocked her head
marginally to the side, closer to her shoulder. He could’ve sworn she sniffed,
as if smelling her armpit on the sly.

Did people really do that in
public?

Chuckles bubbled out at her
absurdity, his smile burned brighter. “Got it. How could I be so insensitive?”

Krista let out a bark of laughter.
“My question exactly. Anyway, I thought I’d return it so you can use it.”

“That would still be setting foot
inside Starbucks…”

“Right.” Sean smiled and took the
gift card hesitantly, his finger brushing her thumb. Sparklers went at the base
of his groin. It was like Fourth of June and his dick wanted to celebrate.

“Okay, well...” Krista let the
words trail, the usual dazed fear crossing her face. Instead of finishing
whatever she started to say, mouth open, she turned abruptly.

Sean stepped forward, realizing he
was losing her! “Krista--”

By the miracle of angels, she
stopped. And turned, a curious expression on her face. It looked like she was
dreading what he’d say next, but dying to hear it. Now was the time.

He opened his mouth to take a
chance, when the elevator chimed and John came barreling out. Sean could have
cursed in his frustration. Instead, in the defeat of the moment, he said, “Have
a good day.”

Krista’s brow crumpled for a brief
second before she caught sight of John heading up the hall. When she turned
back she was speculative.

She’d look like a million dollars
in my shirt with a sleepy smile and tousled hair. Sean thought.

“Sure,” was all she said before she
was striding toward the elevator.

John, ever the creep, turned his
head and caught a look at her butt. “Sean. What’d she want?”

“Here,” Sean handed John the gift
card. “I dropped this in the break room and she was returning it. I don’t drink
Starbucks, though. All yours.”

“Of course you do. We were there
yesterday.”

“I didn’t say I’ve never drank
Starbucks. I gave it up.”

“When? Since yesterday?”

“Since this morning. C’mon, let’s
see those numbers.”

The next morning brought with it
another present on Krista’s desk. This time it was a gift card for Peet’s
Coffee. The note said,

“Maybe
Seattle
’s
Best won’t be offended with another specialty coffee retailer. –Sean”

She had seen Peet’s, but hadn’t tried
it. Unlike Starbucks—the enemy!—she wanted to try a cup, see what they had to
offer, but she hadn’t bothered to spend the money with free, and decent, work
coffee. With donated money, though, why not?

She decided she’d take her lunch
break, wander into one, find a mug, and try some coffee. Problem was, lunch
wasn’t for another four to five hours. It would seem like longer, too, because
the report due tomorrow was already done. All she had to do was sit at her
desk, staring, waiting for a work stork to drop another project.

Actually, to hell with it. Who
would tell on her, Mr. Montgomery’s assistant Larry? He never came her way. Not
ever. He’d walk around the perimeter of Heaven if it meant avoiding her. He
avoided everyone, it was true, but it was a complex with her. She had a feeling
it had something to do with her always saying hi, no matter the scowl. He hated
being talked to. Hated people in general. Such a queer department in which she
found herself.

The day was sunny but breezy. In
San
Francisco
, the nicest time of year started now, in the
fall. It was apparently called the Indian summer. The fog cleared up, for the
most part, and the sun shone bright and sometimes hot. It was proper
California
weather and Krista loved it.

She hadn’t gone far before she saw
a small Peet’s Coffee shop. It was still busy, the morning rush in the
Financial District lasting until about ten, but the line wasn’t atrocious. She
figured she’d skirt around it and find a mug.

Narrowly avoiding a kamikaze
caffeine attack nearly sprinting for the line, she found the stand of mugs and
bee-lined.

“Oh! They’re nice,” she noted to no
one in particular.

A man in a black suit with a pink
tie looked at her like she might be a crazy homeless woman. Seeing she was
dressed in business attire, he only marginally shifted away.

She did a sweep with her eyes and
found one right off the bat. It nearly jumped into her hand it was so perfect.
It was bigger than the one from work—God rest its porcelain soul—and more
artfully decorated. It looked a little like the old stone one might see in a
winery in
Italy
.
It had earth-colored designs that were understated but gave the mug that little
extra something.

To Krista, it was love at first
sight. She hugged it to her and vowed not to break it.

She paid for the mug but still had
about $10 left on the gift card, so she got two regular coffees; it was still a
super sweet gesture, twice in a row. She knew Sean never added sugar, and only
occasionally added creamer—she hated that she knew this—so she left his black.
Assuming the coffee was good, she was taking a risk with that one, she left
hers black as well so she could taste it. If it tasted like burnt ass, she
could always get cream and sugar from the break room.

Once again she found Sean’s office,
but this time her heart wasn’t beating out of control. There were butterflies,
but not the kind that threatened to purge her breakfast bar. She was doing
okay.

When she got there, all her
defenses up again, she realized he wasn’t in.

Purposely not looking around like
the stalker she’d become in the last 24 hours, she put the coffee on his desk
and wrote a note saying thanks, with portrait of her new mug. Ben would not be
proud of her efforts. Then, for the sport of it, she also noted directions to
the microwave for his soon–to-be-cold coffee.

She snorted to herself. She was
hilarious, no two ways about it.

Although, if he didn’t get the
humor, he’d think she was calling him dumb. So then…either she was hilarious or
a bitch…

Story of her life.

The next day she only saw Sean from
a distance. He spared her a glance as he chatted to some art person about a
brightly colored poster board. The day after was the same, getting a glimpse of
him as the elevator doors closed. That time she allowed herself a small smile
in greeting. A few more meetings and the smile got bigger. A few more after
that and the words flowed more easily. He was chatty and cordial, easily
engaging her in conversation and keeping her interest. And while occasionally
he looked at her with an intensity that made her squeamish, usually he kept it
light and playful. In the safe zone.

There were two problems, though.
One was that she didn’t completely trust herself around him. He drew her in a
way she’d never experienced before. Like light to a black hole, she couldn’t
resist letting her attentions get sucked in. Her stomach exploded in
butterflies every time she saw him, and her spine tingled pleasantly. While
this was a great thing in movies and stories, with Sean, it was a very, very
bad thing. She knew this because of the second problem. The man was constantly
the subject of gossip.

Women often chatted about his past
conquests, whether in work or out. He’d dated a few girls around the office, it
was said, getting them into bed almost immediately, and just as quickly
stepping away and leaving them hanging. While Krista hadn’t seen proof, most
girls got sucked in by the effervescent salesman. Krista wasn’t the only one.
She wasn’t special.

A few months went by in that way;
she chatted with Sean, and she allowed herself to laugh and loosen up, but she
tried to maintain distance. She did not want to get taken for a fool. She
didn’t want to end up like the other girls, and she wanted to steer clear of
the rumor mill.

Arriving at
7:15 a.m.
on a chilly Friday in early December, Krista
grabbed her mug and headed to the break room. She was a bit early to see Sean,
or anyone else, but she couldn’t wait like she usually might just to catch a
snippet of his conversation. She was dead tired from watching Ben work on that
blasted painting.

She couldn’t help it; watching him
work was kind of funny. The kid really got into it. It was like a modern dance.
He used his whole body to portray whatever thought or feeling was going through
his head, and then furiously put paint to canvas. He had colors and brushes
everywhere. He had Abbey nearly foaming at the mouth. But he would finish the
painting or be damned. He’d basically told Abbey so. And since he was right
about the roommate situation, Abbey sat and took it.

As Krista crossed the threshold of
the break room, lost in her own world, she realized there was already someone
in there. It was when she was ten feet away that a bucket of cold water
overturned atop her head.

Sean was standing in front of the
coffee pot with a girl from Accounting. The girl was pretty-ish in an overdone
sort of way, and she was enthralled. She stood with her body slightly bent
toward him, allowing him visible access down her shirt. The way his body leaned
into her, and the minimal space between them, it was clear he was taking her up
on her offer. Their faces were only inches apart, their lips too close for even
the best of friends.

As Krista stood and stared,
dumb-founded, he reached his hand up to trace her jaw, then let it fall to her
heaving chest. Krista watched in horror, like a car accident in progress, as he
lightly traced the outside of her boob.

A thrill of pain consumed her. She
remembered that lust-filled look; she saw it on Jim often when he checked out
other girls right in front of her. There was no interest, no soft light of
intimacy, no sharing of mutual respect. Last night Sean got a piece of ass, and
the morning after he was making the most of it, possibly putting this chick in
his pocket for a booty call at a later date.

Krista’s heart dropped. She
couldn’t say why a pallor settled over her, but as Sean leaned in, letting his
lips graze against the woman’s ear, Krista couldn’t help the sick feeling that
twisted her stomach.

Thanks for the proof, buck-o. Not a
moment too soon.

Wanting to get her coffee and get
out of there, Krista cleared her throat behind them.

Sean’s head snapped up, caught her
eyes, and then he jumped away from the woman, a guilty expression crossing his
face before his features smoothed over. His latest conquest, on the other hand,
superhumanly shot spears at Krista out of her eyes. Then she made a show of
taking her sweet time, not politely getting out of Krista’s way.

“What have we here?”

Krista spun around, not expecting
company from behind since the main attack was head-on.

A guy in his early thirties was
standing at the mouth of the break room holding a coffee mug in one hand and a
keyboard in the other. He had a brown crew-cut that bespoke the armed forces,
and brown eyes. He was fairly average-looking.

He was taking in the scene, much as
Krista had done a second before. He had a sneer as he said, “Ah, I see you two
found each other. How nice. Drunken night?”

Sean leaned against the wall,
sparing another guilty look in Krista’s direction before catching himself and
turning to the newcomer with nonchalance. “Jacob, what brings you out of your
hole? I thought IT had coffee behind lock and key?”

Oh no, Jacob! Rachel’s warnings
came back to Krista in a flash. She was to not attract his attention in either
a positive, or negative, light. Basically, she needed to be courteous, but
forgettable.

Which would be easy for most
people, but given Krista’s innate ability to mortify herself when she got
nervous or came under pressure, the prospects were worrying.

“I don’t believe I’ve met you.”
Jacob had turned toward Krista with a confident smile.

“Oh, hi, I’m Krista. I’m in—“

“Research, yes. I authorized your
log-in. Nice to meet you. I’m Jacob. IT manager.” He stepped forward to shake
hands, nearly clubbing her with the keyboard.

Krista jumped backward and felt
Sean’s hand on her lower back, keeping her from hitting the coffee pot. She
ignored the tingle from his touch and shied away immediately.

“Sorry about that!” Jacob laughed.
“I was just up here to change out a keyboard. Thought I’d stop in for some
second-rate coffee on my way back down.”

“I’ll see ya later, Sean… Or were
you heading out?” The girl from Accounting moved to exit the room. It was clear
she wanted Sean to follow her.

“Sure, Theresa,” Sean said
smoothly, staying where he was and looking at Jacob.

Jacob sneered at Theresa in a
knowing way, having her hurrying from the room. He then looked back at Krista
expectantly.

Apparently dialogue was in order.

Trying to stay in the gray zone,
she complied with, “You have better coffee than this?” She laughed and rolled
her eyes. Hopefully he realized she was being sarcastic.

“Hah! Way better. We have Starbucks
brewing downstairs. This stuff is crap!”

“Then why do you drink it?” Sean
asked dryly, taking a sip of his own coffee as he lounged against the wall.

Jacob pretended to ignore him, but
after a moment found he was unable. “When I am in the area I stop in. My fuel
is caffeine, beggars can’t be choosers when you need a top-up.”

Krista smiled. She needed to get
moving and get out. “Or when it’s free, which is why I’m here.” She moved
toward the coffee pot, ignoring Sean as she neared.

Jacob got in behind her, so close
she felt his keyboard nudge her lower back.

“Little close to the female staff,
huh, Jacob?” Sean asked with warning in his voice.

Krista barely put two drops in her
cup before she fled to the creamer station. Leaving the two men in a stare-off,
she tore lids of creamer as fast as possible.

“It’s Jacob that has to watch out,”
she said, reaching for casual to hide her urgency to leave. “My keyboard is all
dirty and disgusting. If he’s not careful, I’ll pull a snatch-and-run with the
clean one he’s got under his arm.”

Jacob turned to her with a smile.
“Yours is dirty, huh?”

“Way dirty, yeah. I tried to clean
it, but there is only so much Clorox wipes can do with dirt and grime from
years of servitude. Anyway, I’ll see you two around.”

She made a hasty exit as Sean said,
“Creamer, Krista.”

She looked back at the creamer
station and realized she’d opened the containers but left them sitting on the
counter like a complete boob. She let out a loud sigh, turned around with
surprising agility for the size heels she was wearing, grabbed the opened
containers, and got outta there.

Thank God the girls would be
heading to her house later that night to view Ben’s painting, because she had a
feeling she’d need a drink after the day’s end.

~*~*~*~

Text from Kate:

Where the fek r u? Weve ben here 20
min???

Text back from Krista:

walking from 25th. Where f-ing
train dropped us!!!

Text from Kate:

Serves u rite 4 still livg on L
line beotch

Text from Krista:

Not helping. C u in a while.

When Krista finally walked in, warm
despite the mild chill from the air—turned out San Francisco was sixty degrees
at nearly all times of the year, including winter, so her Seattle jackets were
overkill—Ben, Jasmine and Kate were all sitting around the dining room table
drinking a glass of wine.

“Hey guys,” Krista said, dropping
her stuff on the floor.

“Abbey’s home,” Ben warned.

Krista gave a body consuming sigh of
aggravation. She picked up her stuff and marched it into her room where she
dropped it in the middle of the floor. She didn’t feel like getting bitched at.
Ben’s “piece” was taking its toll on Abbey’s nerves. If this place wasn’t so
reasonably priced for how big it was, she would move in an instant.