Shouldn't Be (7 page)

“And I’m just a guitar player in a garage band, is that it?”  He stared at her as if he could see into her mind, and he didn’t like what he saw.

“No, it’s not like that,” she tried to argue.  But that was exactly how it was.  Ben was good in bed, but what would her parents do if she brought him home? 

“Who bought your designer shoes?”  He was starting to sound angry. 

She was starting to get pissed as well.  How in the hell was it his business who bought her shoes, or her car?  “Why, are you jealous?” 

“Maybe,” he stated honestly.  “My father just had a heart attack.  I’ve been sitting by his bedside, and meeting with doctors and comforting my mother.  I had hoped for a little more sympathy, and a little less hostility.”

She paused and reflected for a moment.   She had no idea why she was being so nasty to him.  She came to the bar with the best intentions.  “My boss had a heart attack too, oddly enough,” she finally said after several moments.

“At the restaurant?” he asked, as he searched her eyes. 

She looked away momentarily as she said, “Sure.” 

She was a terrible liar.  He knew immediately.  He wondered what she was hiding, because he knew it was something big.  “Are you a stripper?”

“No!” she exclaimed emphatically.  But she was flattered that he thought she could make enough money showing off her body to afford a sixty thousand dollar car. 

“Drug dealer?” he continued.  “Hooker?”

That offended her.  “Of course not.” 

“How are you paying for that car?” he demanded to know.

“It’s none of your fucking business,” she snapped.

“You’re not a waitress, though?” he asserted.

“What difference does it make what I do for a living?”  She was yelling now.

His cheeks were flushed, and his nostrils flared.  “Because I want you to stop lying to me!”  He flinched as he said it, and he exhaled loudly as he realized that he was lying to her too. 

“What do you want me to say?”  She didn’t yell.  It was barely a whisper.

“Fuck you.  I’m done arguing,” he said, as he turned and climbed up into the truck, as angry at himself as he was at her.  “The next time I have a gig I’ll text you.  Maybe we can fuck.”

* * *

He peeled out of the parking lot, and sped back to his townhouse.  He’d really hoped to get some tenderness from her.  He knew she was capable, but apparently not really interested.  He’d never met a girl like her, which is why he was so attracted to her in the first place.

He’d renovated his first floor great room, which was connected to his garage, into a gym.  He exited his truck and walked toward the weights.  He needed to burn up some of this sexual frustration he was feeling toward her, or he would ignite.

He breathed in and out as he curled dumbbells.  He was going to break off his engagement to a decent girl.  For what?  For someone whom he didn’t even know?  He was a fool, and Lyn was the cause.  Her innocent face and dreamy eyes captivated him.  But she wasn’t what she seemed, and he had no idea what she was.  Except he was sure she was a liar. 

But wasn’t he as well?

He continued to lift, and tried not to think about her.  He made his way upstairs afterward to shower, and found four pairs of women’s underwear, her underwear, lying on his bed.  He swiped at them, causing them to tumble onto the floor. 

He was tired of all of it.  He would forget about Lyn, whose last name he didn’t even know, and concentrate on his wedding with Mara.  That was how his life was supposed to go.  They would get married, have babies, and he’d go into politics. 

He didn’t need some lying chick in a bar to screw up his entire life’s plan.

Chapter Six

Alex sent her a proof of life text. 
Hi honey, enjoying basketball camp.  Having fun with the guys.  Hope you’re not working too hard.  Alex.

It was more than she’d heard from Ben.  He hadn’t texted her or called her since they argued at the bar.  She told herself constantly that she should text him, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.  She did, however, text back and forth with Mandy, who hadn’t seen Bobby in over a week either.  Men were dogs, Kaitlyn decided.  She was never going to find one good enough for her.

Her life had fallen back into her old routine; yoga before dinner, and wine and a book at bedtime.  She worked Saturday, and she and Mandy had dinner together Saturday night, but it wasn’t the same.  Kaitlyn stared at her food, and thought of Ben.  They complained to each other about men, and how they hadn’t heard from their guys.  Sunday was the afternoon spent with her parents, as usual.  She went to bed early Sunday night, mentally exhausted from unrequited thoughts of Ben.

* * *

Monday morning she was called into the human resources office.  A job had opened up on the fifth floor, and she was on the short list of candidates.  She and one other junior associate were being considered for the job of assistant to the new acting partner at Aronson and Cohen.

“Who is the new partner?” she wondered, as she took her employment file and placed it on her lap without peeking. 

“Levi Aronson’s son Ruben,” she was informed.  “You have the best resume and employment record.  I’m sure you’ll get the job.  It would include a considerable pay raise, of course.  Mr. Aronson will see you now.  His office is on the fifth floor.”

“Thank you,” she said as she left the office.  She was glad she got up early that morning and spent time on her appearance; not that she ever appeared sloppy for work.  Sometimes she just tried harder than others.

No one went to the fifth floor besides partners, their assistants, and the executive secretaries, except of course for the mail clerks.  They even had their own separate entrance and elevators.  The people who occupied the unobtainable fifth floor were rarely seen by the peons underneath.  She was nervous just pushing the button.

She was stunned when she exited the elevator.  It was like a whole different building.  A professional obviously designed the décor, with wine colored leather couches and chairs in the waiting area, and abstract paintings on every wall.  She approached the receptionist, who looked as if she was already tired of Kaitlyn, and she hadn’t even spoken yet.

“My name is Kaitlyn Morgan.  I’m here to see Mr. Aronson,” she said politely.

The older and very professional woman pointed down a hallway.  “It’s down that way and to your left; the last office.”

Kaitlyn nodded and headed that way.  She was so nervous she had to pee.  She wished she’d gone on the second floor.  She was almost afraid to ask the receptionist where the bathroom was.

She stood at an open doorway.  Across the threshold an intimidating office awaited her.  He had a sweeping view of the city, she noted.  The desk sat between the windows and the door, and the chair was spun around, facing outside.  The desk itself appeared to be an antique, but a very modern cream colored couch sat against one wall, joined by an antique coffee table and two leather seats facing it.  A wet bar occupied the other wall, and by the open door was a fireplace.  His office had a fucking fireplace.  She could see no personal items; no pictures.  She didn’t even know Mr. Aronson had a son.

She stood awkwardly in the doorway, wondering if she should knock, until she heard his voice.  It was a voice like dark honey, like crushed velvet.  She would know that voice anywhere.

It hit her like a meteor.  Her knees began to shake.  Her right eye started to twitch.  She suddenly couldn’t breathe.  She wondered what she should do.  She thought of running all the way to HR and informing them she didn’t need a promotion, and oh, by the way, she needed to turn in her resignation as well, then running out of the building screaming NO! at the top of her lungs. 

He said goodbye to the person on the phone, and swiftly turned the chair around, as if he finally noticed someone was there.  A bright smile covered his face when he realized who was behind the pencil thin navy skirt, navy and green striped shirt, and blue blazer.  “How did you find me?”  His voice was enthusiastic, hopeful. 

And he looked so damn good.  She knew now what Mandy meant by her text.  If she’d seen a guy walk into the restaurant looking like Ruben Aronson did just then, she’d have heart failure.  His curly dark hair was tamed with some sort of styling gel, and pushed back off his handsome face.  He wore a white shirt, dark grey slacks, a medium grey vest, and a dark grey and light grey checked tie.  The dark grey jacket hung on the back of his chair.  He was smooth shaven, and he looked younger, yet more intimidating at the same time.  The worst part, was that she knew what his body looked like underneath the suit.  Her muscles clenched as she thought about it.

She couldn’t answer for a full minute.  Her lips quivered.  He stood and walked toward her, led her into the office, and shut the door behind her.  “I don’t care how you did it.  Did you come to apologize?  I’ve missed you.”  He grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together, then led her to the couch.

As soon as he sat down she took a step away, breaking his grasp.  She turned away from him, trying to compose herself.  Short of saying nothing and running, she couldn’t think of any way out of this situation; except for the obvious.  She cleared her throat, turned toward him, and handed him her file.  “I’m Kaitlyn Morgan,” she said.

He continued to smile as his eyes squinted up, and slightly shook his head.  “I don’t understand.”

She bit her lip and decided that running was the best option.  She turned again on her expensive heels, and was ready to escape, when he grabbed her wrist and held her there.

“Who is Kaitlyn Morgan?”  He had her file open in his lap, glancing through it.  “She’s one of the junior associates applying to be my assistant,” he finally realized.

“It’s me,” she said.

“What’s you?”  He still didn’t understand what was happening.

“I’m the junior associate,” she said with a little more authority.

“You’re a…”  His face fell as fast as she was sure hers did when she recognized his voice.  She watched him put the puzzle together in his head.  “Your name is Lyn.”

“Kaitlyn,” she said.  “My dad sometimes calls me Lyn.  Everyone else calls me Kaity.” 

He released her hand and shook his head as he looked more closely at her file.  “First in your class at UVA,” he said. 

“Yes,” she replied.

“First in your class at William & Mary Law School,” he continued.

“Yes,” she agreed, uncomfortably.

“You studied International Law,” he added.  She said nothing.  “You minored in German.”

“Ja,” she said.

He grimaced when he finally looked up at her.  “Well, aren’t you perfect?” 

She had no idea how to answer that question.  “My parents think I’m pretty special.” 

He frowned at her attempt at levity.  “Your employment file is impeccable.”  He spat out the words as if they were hard to say.

“I had no idea either.  You told me your name was Ben Key.”  Her voice was raised again, and she took a moment to tone it down.  “You have no right to be angry at me.  You lied just as much as I did.”

“You’re right,” he said, as he snapped the folder together and handed it back to her.  “I obviously can’t hire you to be my assistant.  You can return your file to HR.  I’ll ask them to send up the next candidate.  This will not reflect poorly on your record.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, relieved.  She never thought she’d be so happy not to get a promotion.  She smiled at him happily as she turned and exited the room.

In the split second it took her to smile down at him, he changed his mind.  He quickly called HR to inform them he’d chosen Ms. Morgan to be his assistant, and she should report to the fifth floor the next morning.  He wondered how happy she’d be when she found out she’d be working with him every day.

“I don’t think I’ll get the job,” she said as she handed over her file.

“Mr. Aronson called while you were on your way down.  He wants you to report to him tomorrow morning.”  The woman smiled at Kaitlyn as she gave her the good news.

“That’s great,” she said through a fake smile.  “Thank you so much.”  Inside she was fuming.  She couldn’t decide whether to confront him then quit, or return to her office and cry.  Instead she did what she should have done days ago.  She returned to her tiny office, picked up her phone, dialed a number, and sobbed, “Mom?”

* * *

“Don’t you dare let him win,” Sarah Morgan said as they ate cheesecake at the corner deli.  “You didn’t get where you are now by letting people intimidate you.”

Her mother was right.  She stood up to bullies in elementary school, protested the dress code in middle school, and fought against mandatory drug testing in high school.  Why was she letting Ruben Aronson get under her skin?  Because he was a partner, and her new boss, that’s why.  She of course didn’t tell her mother she’d had sex with Ben – Ruben.  And she would die before she discussed her sex life, or lack thereof, with Alex. 

“You know this could have all been avoided if you’d just introduced yourself as a lawyer when you met the man.  Why are so ashamed of what you do?” Sarah wondered.  She smiled as she gazed at her mother.  It was like looking into a mirror image of herself in twenty-five years.  She looked just like her. 

“You don’t understand.  Besides the fact that everyone hates lawyers and my profession is the punch line of jokes, men are intimidated by what I do.”  Kaitlyn shrugged. 

“What about Alex?” she questioned, as she looked into her daughter’s eyes.  Kaitlyn looked away, thought about the question for a moment, and looked back.  Before she could answer, her mother laughed.  “You’re the worst liar ever, Kaity.  You’ll never win at trial.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”  Kaitlyn’s voice went up several octaves, and her mother smirked and raised one eyebrow up in doubt.  “How can it be a lie if I didn’t even answer yet?”

“You were thinking of a lie, and that’s all I needed to know,” Sarah stated proudly.  “Now tell me about Alex.”

“No, I refuse,” Kaitlyn stated stubbornly, and pushed her half eaten cheesecake away.

“Still the same old Kaitlyn, stubborn as a mule,” her mother chuckled.

“Okay, truth?”  Sarah nodded.  “I never see him. I mean, when I went to the club I asked him to come with me.  He said he was studying.  What guy studies every Friday and Saturday night, but seems to always have Sundays available?  And that’s usually because I buy him dinner on Sundays, like clockwork.”

“He’s a med student,” her mother argued.  She’d told herself the same thing over and over.

“But every weekend, mom?” Kaitlyn whined.  “And now he’s at some “basketball camp” for two weeks.”  She even used air quotes to emphasize how little she believed him.

Sarah was thoughtful for several moments.  “If you’re not happy with him, dump him.”

“I thought you liked him,” Kaitlyn continued, still sounding like a bratty teenager.

“I do, but sweetheart, your happiness is much more important.”  Sarah patted her daughter’s hand.  “And I wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life with a cheating, lying, SOB.  I mean, you could end up having to defend me in a murder trial if that happened.”

Kaitlyn smiled brightly at that comment.  She pulled the cheesecake back to her placemat, and finished it off.