Chapter 10
10
KOLBI
“ M r. Vesey, there’s a call for you on line one.” Kendall’s voice buzzed through the intercom in my office.
“Who is it?” I pushed the call button to ask.
“She didn’t give a name, just said it was urgent she talked to you.” Confusion furrowed between my brows as I tried to pinpoint what woman might call but not give her name. “She said that she’s a friend of Jack’s? She sounds pretty—hey, is this the mystery girl you had me shop for on Saturday?”
The dots connected in my head just like they were in Kendall’s and I knew I needed to shut this down before she asked anymore questions.
“Thank you Kendall, I got it.” My finger pushed the button to the intercom, silencing any invasive questions that might be headed my way from my nosy secretary. My Sunday was spent reliving the events of Saturday in my head, trying to shake off her lingering essence that still clung to the sheets of the bed down the hall and filled the chair she occupied opposite of me at breakfast.
Even though there’s nothing to be getting caught up on seeing as how nothing happened and she’s just a client.
If you truly thought of her as just a client, why’d you let her seep into your thoughts yesterday? And last night? And this morning in the shower?
The two voices inside my head argued like the angel and the devil that pop up on the main character’s shoulders in the movies.
I tugged my chin to one shoulder, stretching out the tension that had formed a knot in the back of my neck. The dull ache a constant reminder of the less than professional thoughts I’ve had about this specific client over the last three days.
Clearing my throat, I picked up the receiver and tried my damndest to keep my voice even.
“Kolbi Vesey,” I answered professionally.
“Good morning, Jack.” Her voice was smooth and polite, but there was an undertone to it that was heavy and thick like expensive velvet. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat before speaking.
“How can I help you, Miss Sinclair?”
“I wanted to call and say thank you again for helping me this weekend. It wasn’t my finest moment and I’m grateful you were there when I needed you. I tried calling your personal number to say thanks, but you haven’t been taking my calls.” The sting of her jab could be felt over the line. She had tried calling me a few times since I dropped her off Saturday morning, but I never answered. The calls I let go to voicemail were a desperate attempt to not let her in.
“Well you have me now and your thanks isn’t needed. I’m always happy to help a client. Thank you so much for your call.” I tried to push her off the phone for fear that if I had to listen to another word fall from her lips, she would lure me in like a siren.
“Let me treat you to coffee,” she said quickly, hurrying the words out before I could hang up.
“I’m very busy Miss Sinclair, I’m not sure I have the time for coffee today.”
“No you’re not, I asked your secretary for your schedule before asking her to connect me and she told me you’re free all morning.” There was a pregnant pause between the line after she caught me in the lie. Note to self: revoke the bonus Kendall was getting in her paycheck. “It’s just coffee, Jack.”
I could hear the hope in her voice and I rubbed the back of my hand with my thumb, considering. “Does eleven work for you? There’s a place down the street, I can send you the name of it.”
“I’ll see you at eleven.”
I pushed open the front door and looked up to follow the sound of a bell chiming above my head. I’d asked her to meet me at a coffee shop just down the street from my office and looked around to see if she was already here. When I noticed I’d gotten here before her, I stepped up behind another customer who was waiting in line. I ordered a small black coffee and stuffed a twenty in the tip jar, nodding my head at the girl behind the counter in thanks. When I turned around, I spotted her walking in.
She had her hair half pulled back behind her head and tied up with an oversized white satin bow that matched the outfit she was wearing—a plaid, tweed skirt hit just above her knees and the matching jacket she wore was buttoned top to bottom. The large gold buttons caught the morning light shining through the large glass windows of the café. She had on a pair of cream, knee-high socks that sat under a pair of brown, lace-up leather boots. The look aired on the side of grownup school girl with a hint of old money and a dash of sophistication. A stark difference from the drunken socialite I’d plucked off the street this past weekend. I cleared my throat and attempted to suffocate the flame that had ignited in my core before approaching her.
“You should have let me buy that for you,” she nearly whined as we stopped just a few feet from one another.
“I can buy my own coffee, thanks.” I tried to keep my words with her polite yet safe.
“Next time it’s on me.”
“Who says there’s going to be a next time?” I countered quickly, knowing exactly what game I was playing. She took a step closer to me and pressed a finger to my chest.
“I’m a Sinclair, Mr. Vesey, and we always get what we want. Don’t you forget that.” She nodded her head at me once before flipping her hair and walking to the register. I watched and waited for her to order and felt a smug smirk grow across my face when the barista denied her card.
“Your drink has been paid for ma’am.” The barista looked at me and Magnolia followed their glance before glaring at me through narrowed eyes. Her head tilted to one side that clearly screamed, I can’t believe you did that. With her drink in hand, she walked back towards where I was waiting on her.
“You really don’t know how to let a girl say thank you, do you?”
“My mama always told me to pay when a girl was involved. I’m just trying to be polite.” I leaned my face a little closer to hers and could feel the air change between us. When she didn’t say anything, I turned and walked out the back door towards the patio that sat behind the coffee shop. We found a small, wrought iron table with two chairs that was open, and I pulled out her chair for her. She watched me as she lowered herself down and didn’t take her eyes off of me as I sat in the chair across from her. I took a sip of my coffee and looked at her over the edge of the paper cup.
“How have you been?” I asked, trying to keep the questions in the realm of totally safe and completely normal.
“I’ve been fine. Thank you again for helping me Friday night. I don’t know what I was thinking, getting that plastered.” She shook her head softly and took a sip from her own coffee cup. When she did, a piece of hair fell into her face. I gripped the edge of my chair to keep myself from reaching across the table and tucking it behind her ear for her.
“Do you normally do that?” I probed, squeezing the edge of my seat a little harder, trying to come off as completely unaffected by her perfume which was wafting its way into my nose as a breeze blew through the outdoor space. She scoffed out a laugh that was laced with disbelief.
“I never do that. I don’t even really like to go out but my best friend, Margaret, begged me to go with her and after the week I’d had, I just wanted to have fun and forget everything.” She pursed her lips together and acted like she had just swallowed a vile of poison. Her eyes were fixed to the top of her coffee cup, lost in a thought.
“What were you trying to forget?” I asked, even though part of me knew the answer already. I hadn’t forgotten how she mentioned her asshole ex and how he ‘threw her away like last week’s leftovers.’ I’d never wanted to punch a stranger more than I did when I heard the tears streaming down her face on the other side of the phone.
“Where do I start?” She half laughed, even though I could see the pain in her eyes as she looked anywhere but back at me. As if avoiding my gaze would help her to avoid the pain I’d seen when I picked her up on the side of the street. “Maybe about how my boyfriend of five years cheated on me or how my mother is treating me like it’s my fault he was unfaithful. She acts like we’re going to get back together so she can finally get the dream wedding she’s been hoping for.” She laughed to lighten the air around us. “Or maybe to forget about how no matter how hard I try, I’m never good enough for the people around me. Since the day I was born, I was never what my parents wanted. Or Daniel, clearly, seeing as how he’s now sleeping with someone who wasn’t even born until we were in the first grade.” She threw her coffee back as if it was shot and finished it off.
I clasped my fingers together in my lap, leaning back in my chair, studying her as she continued to avert her eyes from mine. We sat in the uncomfortable silence for several long minutes as I waited for her to bring her eyes to me. I wanted her to look at me and know that I saw her. All of her. As she is right now. And that it didn’t scare me. She circled her eyes once more around the courtyard before finally settling them on me.
“I’m sorry for saying all of that. I asked you to meet me so I could say thank you for saving my ass, not to dump on you like you’re my therapist or something.” She crossed her arms over her chest defensively and sucked on the inside of her bottom lip.
“While I might not be your therapist,” I started, leaning on the wobbly table with both elbows, “I am glad you shared that with me.” She gave me a small, tight smile that I wanted to trace with my finger, encouraging it to grow even wider. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I know what it’s like to feel like you can never measure up for the people around you.”
She looked at me through softened eyes for a beat before her demeanor changed in a snap. She crossed her hands in front of her on the table and smirked at me. “Enough about me, tell me something about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“I don’t know, anything. Tell me what you do outside of work. You can’t be tied to the job all the time, can you? Or are you always picking up clients at one in the morning and taking their drunk asses home?”
I chuckled at her question. “When I’m not at work, I’m either home or spending time with my family. But more often than not I’m with my friends. I have three of them. I grew up with only sisters so these guys are kind of like the brothers I always wanted growing up.”
“That’s how my friend Margaret and I are. My mother couldn’t have any more children after me, so she became like my sister.” There it is, her real smile. I could tell by the way the muscles in her face relaxed that Margaret was important to her.
“Tell me about your friends,” she urged and I laughed even bigger because thinking about my friends always caused this kind of reaction. Bunch of fucking idiots.
“Oh god, where do I even start? Well, we’ve known each other forever. We met when we were all in the same class together in elementary school and have been inseparable since.” As I spoke, she leaned in and rested her elbows on the small bistro table we were sharing, propping her carefully sculpted chin in her hands, watching me speak. “There’s Malcolm, Conrad, and then Hank.”
“Malcolm, Conrad, and Hank. Those are good names. Strong names.” She pushed her lips out and nodded her head compendiously.
“They’re good guys. I see them weekly, sometimes even more than that. They keep me sane, well, actually they drive me crazy and make me worry but they’re my best friends, so I deal.”
She studied me for a moment across the table before pulling back and leaning her forearms on the edge of the table. With my arms still resting on top of it, our fingers grazed one another and I immediately leaned away from her, needing to put as much space between us as possible.
“Can I ask you something?” Her words came out quickly and I knew that even if I told her no, she would ask anyway. I flashed my palms at her, indicating to her to go ahead with the question.
“Why are you such a nice guy? I mean, I was such a bitch when we first met and then I pretended not to know you the second time we met. And when I call you up at one in the morning like my personal chauffeur, begging you to come and rescue me, you treat me to breakfast and fresh clothes the next morning. And now you sit here and tell me about your friends and listen to me give my sob story like it’s not a big deal. What gives?” She shrugged her shoulders and a look of disbelief danced across her porcelain face. I weighed the words I wanted to say inside my head before speaking.
“I’m just trying to provide outstanding service to a client. I try to be as polite and professional as I can.” Liar.
“Ugh, there’s that stupid word again. Professional. ” She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out, looking like she’d just walked through horse poop left behind by one of the carriages that strolled down the main streets of Charleston. “You wanna know what I think?”
“Why do I feel like you’re going to tell me what you think whether I care to hear it or not?” My quick remark earned me another confident smirk from her.
With her arms leaning against the table, she locked her eyes on her target, ready to hit her mark with ease. She looked at me, the smirk on her face growing more with every passing second. The tension between us was so thick you could strum it like a guitar. I did my best to wall up the feelings I knew were growing inside of me as I sat across from her and watched as she aimed her words to hit her target dead on.
“I think you’re nice to me because you like me. And not in a ‘ you’re my client ’ kind of way.”
She watched and waited for me to respond and as I sat across her, I knew she’d caught me. Not just caught me in the feelings I knew were growing for her, but caught me in her web of attraction and desire. I knew, as she pierced straight through me with eyes that reminded me of expensive gemstones, that she’d never let me go.
What she didn’t know though, was that I was happy to have been caught.