Chapter 20
Alex
Shortly before
The way we parted this morning was typical for Beth and me. Something was on her mind. She’d wanted to talk yesterday. But I didn’t want to, even though I should have.
But the way she stood there with her wild black curls, her white top and jeans. So close to me. I just had to kiss her. And what happened after that was just as amazing. I think the last time I spent an entire night having amazing sex was...
... also with her. More than a year ago.
God, just thinking about what we did last night and all through the night, I want to do it again. Again and again. And only with her!
But there’s something else she should know. The thing with the shop, not to mention my bet with Jake.
How did I even get the idea that it would be smart to have wild, uninhibited sex first and then talk the next morning?
How could I have assumed that would work?
But I didn’t even get the chance to really talk to her. I thought maybe a relaxed breakfast atmosphere might help. I’d explain my plans for her shop and at the same time find her a suitable replacement. Who could say no to that?
Besides, I’d read an analysis of the flower shop market, if you can even call it that. The trend was moving farther away from pure brick-and-mortar and more toward online orders.
Maybe she didn’t need a storefront at all, just a place to process her orders. But I basically have no experience in her line of work, and who likes being told how to run their business? I sure don’t. And certainly not by someone I’ve slept with.
And I doubt Beth is any different.
But before it came to that, Beth was gone. Just like that, completely frantic and without giving a reason. It had kind of become our weird little tradition that when we say goodbye or are about to kiss, something gets in the way or someone gets cold feet.
But we were past cold feet. What happened with Beth last night... that was unbelievable!
Beth is unbelievable!
But I tried not to think about it anymore, got dressed, drove to the office to focus on work and clear my head. I didn’t text her. Maybe later.
******
"Damn it," I curse when I finish the detailed analysis of the last quarterly report in the afternoon and have gone over the recommendations again.
Why does this all have to be so complicated? I need the store on 4th Street. Beth’s shop. Strategically great location, and the projected revenue breaks every record. The store would be up there with the best in the city. Not to mention the mall idea.
If I buy the whole block—and Eric is already out having preliminary talks—it’ll be the best store I’ve ever had. But for that to happen, Beth not only has to vacate the shop, her landlord has to sell, and he’s dug in his heels.
Either way: it’s time to bring Beth into the loop about my situation. No more excuses and no more delay. I’ve had my fun, although a strange pang hits my chest when I think that.
Because I know it was more than the usual fun. What happened with Beth was different somehow. And somehow I wanted it to be.
Annoyed and with no plan for how to broach the topic, I flip through the mail Eric put on my desk this morning.
RING RING RING
"Yeah, what’s up, Eric?" I ask as I pick up the phone.
"Sir, about tomorrow night. Should I send the tux to the cleaners?"
"Tomorrow night?" I ask, frowning.
"The charity gala. At your home."
"Oh right," I say, even though I’d completely wiped it from my memory. Those silly receptions were just annoying. That constant mutual back-patting got on my nerves. Although, some buildings on this block are city-owned. So it couldn’t hurt to knock back a few cognacs with the mayor and give his wife a nice wave.
"Yeah, go ahead," I say.
"Will do. As always, no plus-one?" Eric asks me.
"No. This time with a plus-one," I say, even though nothing’s settled yet, but I know how good it looks at events like that to show up with someone. And I do have someone in mind. One person, and I hope she’ll say yes.
"Who will that be? Should I have her picked up?"
"No. I’ll pick her up. And as for who it is—let me worry about that. I have to go," I say, get to my feet, and know exactly where I need to be. With Beth.
I hope she says yes, and I hope we can shake a few hands there and talk about everything. I really do.
******
"Beth. There’s something I want to ask you," I say, looking at her seriously.
"Yeah?" Beth replies, and even in her work clothes with the green apron she looks so tempting that just the sight of her nearly makes me lose my mind. She takes a step back, and again I get the feeling I’ve said something wrong. She looks a bit abashed.
Maybe she’s embarrassed because I asked why her friend’s kid’s diaper bag and toys are lying around her place.
Okay, I take a deep breath in and out. Better not say another word about kids. I should focus on what really matters.
"Beth, there’s a charity gala at my place tomorrow.
A very official reception with some important people from the city," I begin and clear my throat. "Would you be my official date for the evening?" And when she doesn’t answer right away and just stares at me a little blankly, I add, "We’ll shake a few hands and then we’ll have plenty of time to talk. Those events are usually boring as hell. And we’ve been meaning to talk about a few things for a while. .."
"Your date—what exactly does that mean?" Beth asks in a low voice.
I pause. Fair question. I hadn’t really thought that through. Why do people even say it like that? I don’t want to tell her that we’ll pretend we’re together that night and then go our separate ways. That’s not what I want at all.
On the drive over, I went through everything again in my head, and one thing became clear: I don’t want this—whatever this is between Beth and me right now—to end. I want to take it further and see where it leads.
But first I have to deal with the shop. And the bet. That won’t go over well. Maybe I should just drop it, because what woman wants to be the object of a bet? It was a shitty idea to agree to it in the first place.
"Alex?" Beth asks softly, because I still haven’t answered.
"It doesn’t have to mean anything. We can go as friends. A lot of people who bring a date are married, a couple, or... well..." I stammer, feeling like a dumb schoolboy who can’t put anything into words, and I can feel my heart pounding.
"But if you don’t want to or don’t have time, then maybe it was a stupid idea and..." I add, and I wonder what kind of crap is even coming out of my mouth.
"I’ll come," Beth cuts me off, her cheeks glowing. "Talking sounds good." No hesitation. No hedging. She just says yes.
And I beam from ear to ear and can’t hide my grin. Beth’s mouth curves into a small grin, too. She seems so shy, so fragile. Completely different from last night.
I don’t want to hurt her at all, and I already regret keeping this from her for so long.
"I’m glad. I’ll pick you up at... let’s say eight?"
"Agreed," Beth says. "You’ll just knock on the shop door again?"
"I can come upstairs to your place, too. The entrance to the stairwell is next door, right?"
"No, it’s fine. I’ll come through the shop," Beth answers quickly, avoiding my eyes.
"All right," I say, and I wonder why I’ve never actually been upstairs at her place. Is she embarrassed because her apartment is smaller than my mansion? That would be ridiculous. Maybe I’ll ask her why after we’ve covered the big topic.
"I’m looking forward to it. I have to run, though. See you tomorrow," I say, go to her, and kiss her cheek. I’d love to kiss her mouth, but since neither of us knows exactly where we stand and we haven’t talked, this is probably better.
"Me too," Beth whispers softly, and I think she closed her eyes a little when I kissed her. What a sensual woman.
On the way back to the office, I run through everything again: shake hands, smile politely, then pull Beth into a quiet corner and explain that I’d like to take over her shop and turn it into a branch.
But in return I’ll buy her a new place at a location of her choice.
And if the mall comes together, I’ll offer her a second store there.
Shoppers love flowers. She won’t be able to keep up with the demand.
That should work, right?
I want to believe it, but I can’t shake the quiet feeling that I’ve made my plans without factoring in Beth and that complex mind in her sweet head.
And what if I’m honest and tell her I put it off far too long because I just think she’s amazing?
That sounds good. That’s how I’ll approach it.
I can hardly wait, and for the first time I’m actually looking forward to a charity gala.