Chapter Eleven
Clifton
I can”t believe the nerve of her boyfriend.
The guy has a name like Sterling and somehow thinks he”s God”s gift to women.
He just barged right into our office, acting like he owned the place, and started talking down to Emma like she”s some kind of child that just doesn”t understand how relationships work. Of course, he”s the one that sounds like he has no idea how anything works.
Something about his behavior makes me feel like he”s trying to control her. There was nothing in him that showed any kind of concern for her feelings, her work, or her dreams. He only cared about himself and how she could serve him in some way shape or form. He”s selfish.
And if all of that weren”t enough, he had the nerve to say that he forgives her for being upset. As if she needs his permission to have emotions and share them. That”s not something a supportive partner says to their significant other.
All in all, I kind of just want to punch his lights out; I”m glad she ushered him out of the office so quickly. The last thing I need are more charges for another fight, but smashing my fist into his face would be very satisfying after everything he’d said and done.
Emma leans in her chair, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling. I can tell she”s lost in her own thoughts, just like I am.
I want to tell her that I”m proud of her for not letting him get away with his bullshit. I love that she called him out on his insecurity and jealousy. But I don”t know how to say the words without sounding patronizing or condescending.
Let her sassy words continue to echo round and round my mind tonight internally. Warn myself never to make her mad at me.
I hope she knows that she doesn”t need a guy like him to drag her down and that she deserves so much better. She deserves someone who respects her, listens to her and loves her for who she is.
I swivel my chair to face my desk again. Of course, I don”t say any of the words on my mind. I don”t want to make anything awkward or complicated between us. I don”t want to ruin our friendship or our work partnership. We work well together, we have fun together, we trust each other; we’re a team and I don”t want to muck things up when they’re going so well for both of us.
But my brain isn”t about to let me not say something. “You should dump him.” The words come out very matter of fact, with no judgment or emotion attached to them.
She glances at me with a mix of surprise and amusement. I have no doubt that she knows I”m serious and also that I”m trying to lighten the mood.
She smiles and says, “My love life is none of your business.” Her saccharine tone makes me smile.
Well, if that”s how she wants to play things. “That was your love life? How incredibly sad, if Sterling is the best example of what you”re working with.”
Her eyebrows lift. “When did I say he was the best example?”
I shrug my shoulders, thrilled that she cornered herself. “Well, to date, he”s the only example.”
Her grin widens. “You can hate on Sterling all you want, but I don”t think I”ve ever seen you with anyone.”
She doesn”t want to know how much I hate Sterling. But she”s not wrong; she”s never seen me on a date because I”m single. I”ve been single since my ex cheated on me, but she doesn”t know that, and I’m not about to put that weight on her shoulders when she’s trying to be playful. I’d rather keep the fun rivalry going. “I”d rather be single than with the wrong person... or a jerk.” Let her decide if I think he”s one or both of those options.
“Are you implying that Sterling is not the man of my dreams, and potentially that he”s a jerk?” I love that she fires right back at me, her eyes sparkling with humor.
“Is that what you inferred from my statement?” If she wants to ask questions, I can keep this going indefinitely. Growing up in my father’s house taught me to deflect, sidestep, and match my opponent before going in for the kill. Verbally, of course.
“Can you just answer the question?” she asks, swiveling her chair in a half-circle to face me.
“I don”t know. Can you ask me what you want to know directly?” A more interesting question is, does she care what I think about her boyfriend? Does my opinion matter when it comes to her love life? Of course, she had said that her love life is none of my business, but that playful barrier came down pretty quickly.
She lets out a sigh, rolling her eyes heavenward, as if not sure how to deal with me. “Fine, I”ll bite. What do you really think of Sterling?”
Does she think I haven”t already given her my honest opinion? Despite her bored tone, I can”t help but feel that she is waiting for my response.
I lean back in my chair and fold my arms behind my head. “Well,” I say, drawing things out as I tilt my head back and forth as if weighing my thoughts. “He’s...” I duck my chin as if reconsidering my choice of words.”
She sighs. “Yes?”
“He’s...” I say, rubbing my chin thoughtfully with one hand, clearly deep in thought about my opinions of Sterling. What I”m really doing is enjoying the suspense.
Emma lets out a groan. “Come on, just say it already.” Clearly, she has caught on to my tactic and is not amused.
“He’s...” I say, glancing at her, noticing she’s leaning in closer. “He’s not worth your time. Or your energy.”
She lets out a hissing sigh and throws an empty folder at me. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say after all that build up?”
“I mean, I’m not wrong,” I say, giving an exaggerated shrug before deflecting the stapled packet of papers she throws at me next. “He”s not worth your time or mine or anyone’s really. He”s a waste of space, a waste of oxygen-”
“Geeze, why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” she asks with a laugh. “I get it. You don”t like him, but you don”t have to be so judgey about it.”
“To be clear, I”m judging him, not you. And you did ask me what I think of him, and I gave you an honest answer, so maybe you should thank me for being candid.” I lift an arm to shield me from her notepad.
“Thank you? I should thank you for insulting my boyfriend? You are unbelievable.” I can hear the laughter in her voice, and my heart flip-flops in behind my ribs. “But I guess you”re right. Something that I like about you is that you”re always honest, even when it hurts.”
Warmth unfurls like the leaves of one of my plants when the sunshine comes in through the windows of my penthouse through my being.
Did she just say she likes me?
My heart picks up its sluggish pace.
Does she mean that in a friendly way or something more?
I”m not really sure how to respond, so I play things safe. “You”re welcome. I”m glad you appreciate my honesty. So are you going to dump him or not?”
She leans back in her chair with a laugh. “As awful as it was of him to come bursting in, I”m glad that you were here, too.”
The comment is as unexpected as the way her words make me feel. “I still can”t believe that you said that I”m with the wrong person... or a jerk.”
I shake my head, feeling playful. “I said nothing of the sort. I may have implied that, but I didn”t say it.” Our easy back and forth, playful banter and bickering drains the tension from the room, and I’m glad her boyfriend showed up, if only because I feel closer with her than ever before. If I was smart, I”d run for the hills, but I guess I am dumber than a box of rocks, because all I want to do is stay.
“No, I”m pretty sure that”s what you said.” She relaxes, clearly not about to get back to the case we’ve been working on. I bend down to gather up all the projectiles she’d launched at me, then offer them back. But before she can grab them, I pull them out of her reach and stare at her.
“You”re not going to throw them again, are you?”
She lunges for the stack. “I wasn”t going to, but I might now,” she says as I pull them further away from her, holding them out and behind me.
We both suddenly realize she’s practically in my lap, that our faces are inches from one another. And she glances at my lips in a clear invitation to kiss her.
“You have to stop doing that,” I whisper, reaching up with my other hand - I’m not stupid, if she’s messing with me to get the things she threw at me, she’s not tricking me - and brushing the corner of her mouth with my thumb.
She lets out a soft hum of approval as her perfume leaves my mouth watering. I want to taste her. I want her. In every way possible.
And not just because she’s got me all twisted up inside, but because she’s soft and delicious, and looking at me like she wants me to show her my specific brand of intimacy.
When did these feelings and hunger get all tangled up in me? And does she feel the same way?
But there’s something I need to say before I go any further with her. “If your man isn’t willing to move mountains for you, to listen to how you feel, good or bad, if he has to be the center of your universe every second of the day, he’s trash. You deserve better,” I’m not sure if I’m talking about Sterling or myself with that last line. I have no doubt she deserves better than either of us could ever be, but that’s her call to make, isn’t it?
A gentle smile illuminates her features and I notice the random freckles marching across the bridge of her straight nose, the golden flecks in her beautiful blue eyes, the warmth in her expression.
And I want to kiss her.
I lean in, watching her reactions as she tilts her head to give me a better angle. That’s as good as permission for me, but I move agonizingly slow, giving her plenty of time to turn her head or push me away. She has control of this situation, and I’ll follow her lead.
She grabs my tie and pulls me in closer, but before our lips can meet, there’s a knock at the door.
We jerk apart with a guilty shuffle, then stare at one another in concern. Who is at the door? Is Sterling back for round two?
Her lips part and her worried gaze shifts to the door as if silently begging me to open it this time. I want to ask her if she’d like to hide behind the door - I can say she’s out if her boyfriend is back to make trouble.
I get up and make my way to the door, pulling it open right as there’s a second knock. Emma leans against her desk in a deceptively relaxed pose, and I come face to face with the delivery guy on the other side of the door.
He offers me the bag with our subs and the drink tray with a smile and upbeat attitude. “Thank you, sir, have a lovely day.” With that, he’s gone, and I close the door behind him, then turn to Emma.
“Lunchtime,” I say weakly, well aware the moment is shattered, but hopeful there’ll be another moment not too far in the future.
With a smile, she settles in her chair and I bring over the food, wishing the delivery guy could have waited until after I kissed her.
Then again, if we kissed, we might not have heard the knock at all.