Lawfully Yours (12 page)

CHAPTER 18

The night has finally come and I’m home. I haven’t changed out of my work clothes because I have no idea what’s appropriate to wear for a date. I fix my hair to kill time and try to eat enough food to not embarrass myself with stomach growls. Watching TV is of limited use, my brain is determined to tune out. All thought focuses on one thing—Jordan will be at my apartment soon.

Deciding to be productive, I start cleaning. Realizing the attempt is futile, I simply stack things in piles. Stepping back, I survey my work. Hmmm. Before, my place was a cave. Now it’s a cave with stalagmites. I throw all my mail from the past month, including unread magazines, into the kitchen garbage can. So much for learning what Cosmopolitan has to say. Their advice column probably wouldn’t help me with this situation anyway. Or would it?

Dear Cosmo, I’m dating my boss. No, make that my former boss. He’s coming over tonight for our first date. Though I’m really inexperienced with men, I want him to fall for me. The very sexy kiss we shared left me longing for more. What should I do when he arrives in a few minutes? Continue playing it cool or immediately jump his bones?

God! What kinds of thoughts are these? I’ve got to snap out of it. I dig around in the trash to ferret out all the unpaid bills. The utility bill I salvage is thankfully not too sticky. I set the lid back in place, glad I sprang the extra five bucks for a can with a cover. If Jordan saw how many papers I threw out I’m sure he’d wonder if I was a hoarder or in league with the city dump. I wash my hands with both soap and Purell to be extra sure I’m one-hundred percent clean.

It’s 8:30 p.m. At last my doorbell rings. This is it—our first date. I fling open the door. No, it’s not a mirage. He really is here. But seeing him at my apartment door is the oddest sight. Odd because he’s always been a fixture of the office. Hopefully he’ll soon be fixated on me.

He is truly handsome as he stands among my impoverished, eclectic furnishings. Looking around, his eyes narrow, and his forehead creases. “You mostly picked up around here. It’s better than your office.”

Ignoring his laughter, I try to smile confidently. At least the garbage can is my dirty little secret. “Come on in,” I say, hoping to sound both gracious and sexy.

“For you,” he says, handing me a dozen long stemmed pink roses.

I guess I was so awed to see him in my apartment the flowers went unnoticed.

“To enhance your apartment,” he says. “So it’s worthy of you. I passed on getting you chocolates.”

“I prefer getting flowers to chocolates any day. Chocolates would only make me fat,” I retort, laughing along with him.

“You know, I hate being jealous. I shouldn’t have said that though.”

“Jealous? Really?” That stops my laughter. I stare at him, wide-eyed. Incredulous.

“Yes. Don’t rub it in.”

Rub it in? How can I rub it in when his comment has rendered me speechless? Not knowing what else to do, I turn my attention to the flowers. They’re bundled in light blue cellophane and tied with a pink ribbon. I unwrap the beautiful bouquet and put the flowers in the only vase I have, one that is short and squat. The roses stick at out crazy angles as I try to balance them.

“Looking at that thing, you’d think nobody has ever given you long stemmed roses before,” he says, eyeing the vase nastily.

“Umm. Yeah. I’ll have to see if I can turn up a better one tomorrow. Really, thank you for the flowers, they’re lovely.”

“So are you,” he says, stepping closer to me.

He is moving so fast. Too fast. He isn’t giving me any time to think. A few minutes ago I was practically desperate to sleep with the guy, but now I’m feeling more apprehension than lust. “Where did you want to go?” I manage to squeak out. “There’s a decent pub down the street. And there’s a Starbucks two blocks away. Or did you have something else in mind?”

“I did, yes.” But he isn’t moving toward the door. He’s moving toward me. Then he catches my expression. I don’t know if I look simply wary, or outright fearful.

Now that he’s here and aroused, what the hell do I do?

“Geez, Sue, are you okay?”

“Boss by day, lover by night,” I say with a sarcastic tone. Ah, sarcasm, my saving grace.

“First off, I’m no longer your boss,” he says, sounding like he’s trying not to yell. “Second off, I’m not looking for a good time with an easy mark. In fact, I found getting to be with you almost impossible.”

“Yes, a lot of people have found getting close to me impossible.”

“Maybe I liked the challenge. But I’m hopeful we can move forward now.”

“I gathered you would like to ‘move forward.’ And in order to help you move this whole thing forward, what exactly did you tell Bill? He winked at me this morning. Now I’m wondering what kind of girl he thinks I am.”

“A bright, hard-working one that he’s very lucky to have.”

“People can think I’m bright, hard-working, and the office slut. Not exactly the image I was going for.”

“All right, I hear you. I don’t think it’s like that at all. I told Bill I had been interested in you for a long time, and you were finally interested in me. I told him we wanted to start dating to see where this goes. I said you were important to me, and I was hoping it would work out between us. I asked him to do me this favor. Like I told you, he was only too happy to accommodate. He said he’d keep everything under wraps. I’ve known Bill for a long time. I trust him.”

“You told him all that?”

“Yes, though I didn’t tape record the conversation.”

“I meant the part about—”

“Go on,” he says, a rough edge to his voice.

“The part about you wanting to be with me for some time. I really have a hard time believing it,” I say slowly. I guess this explained his jealousy. Is all of this possible? I can’t fathom.

Taking a step forward, he strokes my face. “Remember when I took you out for coffee? You said you left your old firm because you felt disconnected from them. That was ironic because it was hard for me to work with you when you seemed so, I don’t know, shut off from me. I tried to limit my time with you because not being around you was a little less frustrating. When I was with you, I admit I wasn’t all that nice. I’m sorry about that. I thought if I alienated you completely, I could finally let go of any hope of our being together. I’m glad the plan failed.”

“It worked. You could be pretty awful.”

“All of it was awful. Not being with you was awful. God knows I wanted you bad enough. Believe me, I’m glad to leave the past behind us. Now you are no longer some fantasy I’ve been harboring. You are here for me to touch.” He smoothes my bangs with his fingertips. “And you’re here for me to feel.” He pulls me to him and clasps his hands around my waist. He bends his head toward me.

Suddenly I’m once again responding to his kiss, only now more intensely than the night before. His kiss is burning. I part my lips and feel gentleness within the strong crush. Succumbing—quickly. Ability to think clearly—fading.
My blood takes on a frenetic rhythm, tribal drums pounding out a clear message. But I’m not ready to sacrifice myself for the pleasure of the chieftain. There are logistics to be worked out. I try to recall what they are as he slowly slides his hand down the front of my shirt. My logistical items, what were they? Oh, right. They were . . .

He sweeps my hair back. Draws a line down my neck with the tip of his tongue. My only thought is, “Mmmmmm.” Stop that and pay attention, Sue. Okay. Right. Now my point was . . . Well, my point is not much at the moment. No coherency. Whatsoever. Maybe I can concentrate hard enough to spell “Sue.” I think I can do it, spell my own name. If he can stop unbuttoning my shirt long enough to let me concentrate.

Two of my shirt buttons are undone, but not in linear order—my top button, and the button after the next down. I can feel his shirt against the part of my chest that’s exposed. I become aware of my other senses, too. I can’t hear anything but my pounding pulse. I smell the roses, his skin, and whatever cologne he has on, all of which is making me heady. Taste has been already taken care of, I find to my sudden horror. I realize I have left kissing behind and I am now doing the same “drawing” trick on him. That shocks me to a sudden stop. I freeze.

“Why did you stop?” He looks at me, smiling broadly. “I can assure you I was really enjoying that.”

“Jordan, I can’t be doing this. I can’t just hop into bed with you.”

“Okay, don’t. But do continue what you were doing.”

“Uh . . .”

He sits up. I hadn’t noticed before that we were on my couch. Horizontal.

“What’s the problem?” He’s clearly a little frustrated, though he still manages to smile. “Am I that bad?” he jokes. “At least I’m able to happily succumb to this—merger.” He laughs.

“I’m worried how it’s going to be when we’re back in the office. How will I cope when I see you there, knowing you’ve seen me naked? I don’t know if I can handle it.”

“I know how I’ll handle it,” he says, grin larger than the Cheshire cat’s. “It’ll be the best part of my day, I can promise you that.”

“I’ll die from embarrassment.”

“I’ll die from pent-up lust.”

He’s wearing the stupidest grin. I obviously am not going to get anywhere with him on this issue. Time to move on to my next point. “What about personal logistics?”

“Personal logistics?”

I don’t know whether to be envious, or infuriated, he can laugh at a time like this. “I’m not, you know . . . prepared . . . for any of this,” I say, blood rushing to my face. Great. I’m sure I look like a cranberry. Maybe he’ll be inspired to indulge in food instead of sex.

“Okay,” he says, shifting against my sprawled pillows until he sits upright, “How did you handle the preparations your previous times?”

I am silent. My shoulders tense, scraping my ears.

“Whatever birth control works best for you is fine with me, of course,” he prompts. “It’s simply a matter of whatever you’re comfortable with.”

No response. Not possible yet.

“I get it,” he says after a minute of silence. “Sorry, I was slow on the draw, but I’m with you now. I’m the one who needs to handle the preparations. Right. Got it.” He gives me a lopsided smile until he notices I’m still tense, rigid like stone.

“Sue, why are you still upset? I know this topic isn’t easy, but hey, we’re done with it. I told you we’d handle birth control whatever way you want. And now I know what you want.”

“Okay, that addresses some of my logistic issues.”

“There are others? Wow.” He’s laughing again. “All right, let’s hear them. We’ll get through those too.”

“Well, it’s more of clarification of an issue than an additional issue.”

“Sheesh, Sue, you must be nervous. So formal, it’s like you’re still my associate.”

Cannonballs fire out of my narrowed eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” he hastens to add upon seeing my expression. “My mistake, I shouldn’t have brought that up. So what’s your ‘clarification’?”

The only way through this topic is through the heart of it. I figure I might as well tell him what I need to. “There wasn’t a way I handled logistics before, because this issue never came up.”

His head cocks to one side, questioningly.

I sigh. “Your instructional duties with me would have to expand past commercial real estate.” He’s still silent. Is he going to catch on this year, or what? “Jordan, I’ve never been with anyone before.”

His mouth drops open.

Finally.

“That’s an aspect I wasn’t expecting,” he says after the longest pause. “We’ll go slow, all right? I wouldn’t have even pushed you this far, if I’d known.”

“You think I’m weird now, right?”

“Not weird. But I am trying to figure that out. Were you waiting for marriage?”

“No. It’s like my last job, where I never made that much of a connection with anybody. I didn’t want to sleep with some guy just to get my virginity over with. Being with someone for the right reasons is important to me.”

I interpret Jordan’s silence to mean he is re-evaluating whether I’m weird. Is he now also re-evaluating whether I’m desirable? Perhaps my employment resume wasn’t enough for him. Now he’s got my dating history to review and consider, too. Fabulous.

“You’re beautiful, Sue. I would have thought guys would’ve gone out of their way to connect with you.”

That definitely softens me up. I try to smile, despite the fact I hate admitting all this. “You’re not put off?”

“No,” he says. “It’s an interesting element. But definitely not off-putting.”

I catch a glimpse of the clock above my television. “Midnight.” I sigh. “Maybe you should go home. We can both cool down and get some sleep.”

“No. I understand we won’t be as intimate as I’d like for a while, but I still want to go to bed with you.”

I stare at him. The raving lunatic.

“I don’t want to leave,” he protests. “I want to spend the night here, holding you.”

I stare harder at him, eyes as wide as they can go.

“Nothing further, I promise,” he says, making a motion to cross his heart.

Despite my nerves, I laugh, which was no doubt his intent.

He says softly, “I want to wake up with you in my arms.”

There is no way I have the wherewithal to fight that. Since I can’t muster up my voice to answer, I nod.

He goes down to his car to grab his toiletries and whatever else he thought to pack. I can’t be furious with him for his overnight bag presumption. After all, his assumption was correct, despite being way off base as to the specifics.

I run to brush my teeth during his brief departure and hurry to put on something clean to sleep in. I can only hope what I pick is not too grandmotherly in appearance.