The Super: A Bad Boy Romance (14 page)

“Well? How is my working woman?”

“Who? Oh, me? I’m good.”

I open the door for Jess and let her in. She’s still in her work clothes.

“That bad, huh? The boss really cracking the whip already?”

“I mean, yeah. Kind of. I like it and all, but it’s very exhausting.”

“At least you work regular hours. Nine-to-five. That’s not so bad. Wait until you move up and you have to work crazy hours. Imagine how busy you’ll be when you become Editor-In-Chief.”

She kicks her black pumps off and flops onto the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table and flipping on the TV.

“Oh! Jeopardy is about to start,” I say, sitting down next to her.

“You know, I always thought you’d be on Jeopardy someday. You’re so smart.”

Not smart enough to stay away from Drew Anderson.

“I’m not smart. And anyway, it’s all trivia. I don’t know all the little details about presidents and 18th Century poets, and all that.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Anyway, I like Wheel of Fortune better now. I used to like Jeopardy, but now I’m a wheel watcher.”

“That’s a sign you’re getting old. I remember always sitting down with my grandma for Jeopardy and Wheel. The younger people always like Jeopardy, and the older people always like Wheel.”

“Old? Because I like Wheel of Fortune? That’s a new one.”

“Think about it.”

I get up and start into the kitchen to grab a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine. I still can’t believe that Drew got me to drink beer - and do other things.

But I’m not about to go out and buy beer now.
That
would be too drastic a change for me.

I’m already doing things I know I shouldn’t be doing.

“How’s the man?”

My face flushes and I turned to the sink to wash my hands, an attempt to divert my attention away from Jess.

“Huh? Can’t hear you over the running water.”

“You’re so full of crap. Drew. How is Drew doing?”

“He’s fine, I guess. I wouldn’t really know.”

I pad back over to the couch with my after-work libations and pour two generous glasses for me and Jess.

Jess’s eyes light up and she tucks her legs under her, taking a glass of wine eagerly from the table.

“Something happened. Did you have sex with him?”

“God, no!” I reply, but I know that I’m incapable of lying to my best friend even if I want to.

Jess sips her wine coyly and looks up at me through thick, dark eyelashes.

“Oh, okay.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe a little.”

“How do you have sex with someone
a little
? You either did it, or you didn’t. And I can tell that you definitely
did
. Go ahead and deny it. It’s fine. Just make sure to Skype me from the penthouse when you move in with him.”

“Okay, first of all, no one is moving in with anyone. Second of all, it isn’t going to happen again. And third of all, you don’t even know what happened.”

She tosses her hair behind her shoulder and inspects her fingernails.

“Then what is it, exactly, that isn’t going to happen again?”

“Okay. Fine. Something did happen.”

“Tell me! What did you mean when you said that you had sex with him
a little
? Does that mean you didn’t do it in a bed? Where’d you do it? His office? Bent over his desk?”

“No!”

“
Your
office?”

“Shush!”

“It’s not like anyone can hear us. It’s just us girls. You think your boss is hiding in the bathroom and he’s going to pop out and say, surprise! You’re fired because you fucked the hottest guy this side of the Mississippi in your new office?”

“I didn’t.” I take a large sip of my wine. “Okay, fine! I did. We had sex. Not sort of, not a little, not kind of. We did it, okay?”

“This is exactly what I told you to do, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I have to say that I did do what you told me to do this time.” I grab the remote from the table and turn up the volume. “Shh, Alex is on.”

“Your man Trebek is going to be there after we talk. Turn that off. We have important things to talk about. Right now.”

She grabs the remote from me, mutes the TV and puts the remote behind her back.

“You know, in the old days, I would have been able to get up and turn the volume up. I don’t even know how to do that on this TV.”

“You’re too nostalgic, you know that, Molly?”

“Yeah. I’ve been accused of that before. By you.”

“So where is he now? Why isn’t he taking you out to a fancy restaurant tonight? A gala? A ball? Isn't that what those Anderson types do every night?”

“I don’t know what he does every night.”

“But you know what he did at least one night, no?”

“Yes. And I also know it’s not going to happen again.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It was a fling. He is going to be gone soon, and as much fun as it was, I can’t afford to get hurt again.”

“Why not take a chance, Molly? He obviously likes you. And I don’t think I should have to remind you that you should really get back out there.”

“So what? So, he likes me. I don’t know why that has anything to do with it. Guys like anything with boobs and a vagina.”

“That’s so romantic.”

“I mean, you know who he is. This,” I say, gesturing around the small, stuffy apartment, “is not
for
Drew Anderson. He might like me now, but remember that this is not his real life. He is going to go away, and go back to work and his real life. Maybe he’ll even go back to his fiancee.”

I take a long sip of my wine and feel the cool calmness of the alcohol steady my nerves.

“You’re acting like he lives a million miles away. He doesn’t. It seems to me that you’re just looking for reasons why it won’t work between you, when it’s obvious that it’s at least worth a shot.”

“So, what, we date for a little while? Six months? A year? It’s not like we are going to
be
together, so why not just skip all the pain and get to the inevitable?”

“I understand that you don’t want to get hurt again. But you have to take a chance. This isn’t like you. What happened to the tough-as-nails bitch that I know? Think about it. You got this awesome job, you got this apartment, you graduated with honors from one of the best journalism schools in the country.”

“But what if I’ve been wrong all along about what I want?”

Maybe Drew is right. Maybe I don’t know what I want. My whole life, I’ve ushered myself into a narrow path. Go to the right schools, get into the right college, the right grad school, the right job. I even had the right boyfriend, but now that seems like so long ago.

“What do you mean? You have it all, Molly. Every single thing you’ve set your sights on, you’ve been able to achieve. It’s actually pretty infuriating.”

Jess smiles and puts a sympathetic hand on mine.

“And if you aren’t sure this is what you want, why don’t you start reevaluating exactly what it is that you’re going for?”

She doesn’t have to say anything else. I know what she means. She means that I should be figuring out what I want,
starting with Drew Anderson
.

“Not every guy,” she adds, “is going to be like Thomas.”

There it is. The unspoken name, the elephant in the room, the guy who said that he would be with me but who unceremoniously broke up with me after college to
go do his own thing
in California.

He told me he didn’t like New York anymore. That after a lifetime of subway rats and greasy pizza, he wanted to move to California where the sun shines all year and there isn’t the perpetual threat of a blizzard around the corner.

I reminded him that the summers in New York are as hot as the winters are cold, but that wasn’t enough for him.

He didn’t want to listen to me. He packed up his Volkswagen and drove away.

He didn’t even really do anything wrong. He never treated me badly. He never cheated on me. But I took it harder than I should have, because he was my first boyfriend, and I never got those relationship mistakes and heartaches out of the way when I was in high school.

It was like I dove right into the deep end and never went through the water-wings stage.

“I'm just not so sure that the first guy I need to jump into a relationship with is Drew Anderson.”

“Why not? It seems like he has a lot of great qualities. Even though they may not be what you think you want, maybe you should examine what you want a little bit closer.”

“That's what he said to me a few days ago. He asked what I really wanted. And I didn't know how to answer.”

“And don't you think that's a little bit funny?”

“What do you mean by funny?”

“Not funny
ha-ha
, but ironic.”

Jess reaches behind her back and unmutes the TV just in time for Alex to read the Double Jeopardy categories.

Drew Anderson doesn't want a girl like me. He wants a girl like Clarissa. A girl who is going to look good next to him, a girl that his dad will love, a girl who can keep up with him and his lifestyle. It's a lifestyle I’ve never been introduced to.

I know it isn’t acceptable for me to be giving myself over to him, at least not for anything more than a hushed fling.

It doesn’t fit in with my plan. Even a thorough reevaluation of my plan would never reveal that I should be with Drew.

And I know, deep down, he probably feels the same way.

I cannot get Molly out of my mind. Since sleeping with her, all I can think about is her soft lips, her soft pussy, and her perfect ass.

I cannot deny what she does to my cock. When we had our first kiss, I wanted to push her shirt up her body and pin her hands over her head and screw her right against the wall of the empty dining room at the open house.

I showed more gentlemanly restraint with her than I ever have with a woman.

But that might partly be because Molly wasn’t throwing herself at me like most women do.

I want to be with Molly in her apartment, cooking her a proper meal and feeding it to her in bed, but instead, I’m in my pajamas, on the couch in Rich’s apartment, fielding emails and responding to my brother’s many texts when I realize I don’t even have Molly’s number.

In all of the craziness that’s gone down over the past few days, I never even got her number.

At least I know where she lives.

The emails about the headache of a lawsuit seem standard. There are emails between O’Malley and Lee that all of the partners at the two firms are copied on. O’Malley gave me and Eric strict instructions not to engage the other side, not to involve ourselves in the talks with the other firm or with their attorneys and strategists.

Leave the lawyering to the lawyers, he said.

But I know Eric wants to get in the mud with the guys. He wants to be a shot-caller, even though he’s really just the numbers guy.

Not
merely
the numbers guy, but you know what I mean. I want him to stick to what he knows best.

Identifying opportunities. Leveraging our assets.

My phone rings, and of course it’s him.

“Hey, man. What’s up? I’m still not working hard enough for you?”

“Drew, you might have to come back to the city tonight. I think the other side wants to have a meeting.”

I toss my laptop on the couch beside me and flip on the TV. I’m not trying to be cavalier about the whole thing, and I admit I was nervous about it at the beginning, but we have this in the bag.

And I’m not shy about telling my brother that.

“You
think
they want a meeting?” I laugh as I talk calmly into the phone.

“Yeah. I mean, they said they would be in touch about a possible compromise.”

“I told you, Eric. No compromises. Don’t you remember how they acted like a bunch of pussies when Lee called O’Malley? With them trying to put on that faux-aggressive posturing shit with the agreement? I should go to his office right now and tell him where he can shove the agreement.”

“Just get back here, okay? How fucking weak would it look if O’Malley and I were there and you weren’t?”

“No, man.” I hit mute on the TV when I get to some early-evening psycho-babble talk show. “Think about how
cool
that would look. Like, I’m so sure we are going to win that I don’t even show up for the meeting.”

“And whose purposes would that be serving? The firm’s, or would that be for your own
personal
gain?”

“I just think it would look badass.”

“It would look cocky, and that’s the kind of antics that garnered the reputation you have.”

I can feel through the phone that my brother is a little pissed off at me.

“Hey, if you want a reputation like mine, maybe you should start blowing off some important meetings.”

“Blowing them off? Is going on a bender in Miami with a couple of lingerie models your idea of blowing off a meeting?”

“I don’t know.” I smile and put my feet up on the coffee table. “Something like that.”

“But all of that is behind you now, right? Now that you’ve met Kristy?”

“It’s Molly.”

“Oh, you remember her name. How charming. And when you come back home, you aren’t going to just forget her like you did all those other girls in high school? And in college?”

“I thought my brother would be happy that I finally met the love of my life.”

“I’m certainly happy for you. Thrilled. I just think you should be paying more attention to your work. I’m not about to let our whole firm go up in flames just because you’re pussy-whipped by some bridge and tunnel chick.”

“You’re going to regret making that comment when you have to give me and Molly a toast at our wedding. And maybe I should remind you that I negotiated one of our biggest deals while I was on a video conference on a boat off the coast of Crete with one of those lingerie models you mentioned earlier?”

“Fine. You’re right. You’re the best thing that ever happened to this company.”

“Dude, I
am
the company. With you. We can do whatever we want.”

“You know that’s not true. We have shareholders. Investors. We have to answer to them, buddy. It’s not just you and me running the show anymore. We have a million invisible strings attached to us, pulling us in every direction. Just remember that.”

“You know, maybe I should make a little trip into the city. Take Molly out on the town.”

“Just make sure you know what you’re doing.”

“Do I ever not know what I’m doing?”

I tend to a jammed door in Molly’s next-door neighbor’s apartment, and then make my way to her place. I don’t have her number, but I decide that she won’t mind if I just pop in.

I knock on the door like I usually do, and it opens a few seconds later, with Molly standing there, looking as gorgeous as ever.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, a coy smile creeping across her lips.

“I came to take you out on a date.”

“Oh, really? How do you know I don’t have other plans already?”

“I don’t. But I know you’d cancel them for me.”

“Do these lines really work on women? I mean, do women really go for the cocky type like you?”

“It seems that they do. I mean, here I am, standing in your apartment. Looking at you. Seeing you.”

I take a few steps toward her and brush her hair away from her shoulders. They are delicate, petite, flawless, and perfect.

“That doesn’t mean anything, Drew Anderson. We are neighbors. You’re my super. That’s it.”

“That’s not it,” I whisper in her ear. “That’s not all you want, is it? I can tell you want more. Just one little taste of my cock wasn’t enough for you, was it?”

I feel my jeans get tight against my crotch. I want her so badly, but I want to prove that she isn’t just another hot piece of ass to me.

Because she isn’t. If she had been, I wouldn’t have pursued her after stumbling into her apartment that first time. I would have know she wasn’t interested, and just moved on.

It’s not like me to chase a woman who isn’t interested. I don’t have time for that. And I don’t need it in my life.

There are more than enough women throwing themselves at me.

But again, part of why I was attracted to her, part of why I wanted her so badly, was the fact that she didn’t throw herself at me as soon as she met me, like most women do.

Most women who go to that bar where we first met are only interested in one thing.

Or two things, if you count my money as something they want, next to getting laid.

“You do want it, don’t you?”

I feel her body shudder at my words, even though we aren’t touching.

I slip my arm around her waist and pull her in close to me. Her shampoo smells like lime and lavender, and she’s breathing fast. I can nearly feel her heart beating against mine. I want to tell her to calm down, that we have all the time in the world.

“I...yes,” she sighs into my arms. “I do want it.”

“How bad? I want to hear you say it.”

I put my hands on her chest and cup her perfect breasts through her thin t-shirt. She’s wearing a black lace bra underneath. I love how simply beautiful she is. Her big brown eyes say everything she wants to say, but I love pulling her out of her shell. Cracking her open, and discovering what’s beneath the surface.

“Drew, you know what I want.” She looks up into my eyes and presses her body against mine.

“I want to give it to you. And more. Let me take you out. Tonight. You showed me your turf, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you take me out on a date and didn’t take you out on one in return.”

“That’s very progressive of you,” she says, her eyes sparkling, a smile tugging at the corners of her pretty pink lips.

“I’m a modern man. What can I say? We’ll never go dutch, but I have to take you out, because you took me out. It’s only fair.”

The light from the window in the small apartment illuminates her eyes, and I can see the word
yes
forming on the tip of her tongue.

“Can I go out in this?” she asks.

“I don’t know. Do a little spin for me.”

She steps aside, tentatively, and walks in a slow, small circle, glancing over her shoulder as her gaze snaps away and then back to me. Her little white sundress is cute, but it isn’t what I have in mind for her.

It’s so strange to date a woman who doesn’t need to be seen in the latest runway trends all the time. It’s refreshing. Molly dresses for herself. She doesn’t need to impress anyone.

Maybe it isn’t fair of me to compare Molly to my ex, but there really is no comparison. They are leagues apart.

“I’m afraid that what you’re wearing isn’t quite appropriate for where I’d like to take you. And would you mind very much if we stopped at my office quickly to check in with my brother? Let him know I haven’t pulled some Joaquin Phoenix stunt on him while I’ve been gone?”

“Ooh! Going to the big man’s office? Are you sure they allow lowly people like me into the building?”

“They would be lucky to have you.”

“So I finally get to see you in your natural habitat?”

“Baby,” I say, stepping toward her, looping my arms around her waist and pulling her close to me, “
this
is my natural habitat. This is where I belong.”

Her breasts are pressed against my chest, her breath becoming rapid and heavy. I want to slip my hand up her shirt and feel every inch of her, drink her in and feel her. But I don’t do it.

It takes all of my energy not to, but I don’t. I have more important things to do with her first.