Chapter 17 More #3
“Then what gives? What’s your end game?”
“I’ve been asking myself the same thing. So has she, in fact. Unfortunately, I have no idea, but I know I’m not giving up.”
“I wouldn’t expect otherwise from Braden the Butcher. You wouldn’t move there, would you? You’d lose your partnership and have to start over with another firm.”
“I don’t think we’re anywhere close to that step—regardless of what I’d like. But fuck man.” I run my hand through my hair. “I’ve considered it. That’s how fucked in the head I am over this chick. She’s got me by the balls, and she doesn’t even know it.”
“Well, holy fucking shit. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Yeah, you and everyone else.”
The afternoon went better after the conversation with Warren, which prompted me to pull my head out of my ass. New rule: focus on the job during the day—Poppy at night. I’ll need to practice work-woman balance.
By Wednesday, work is back to normal, and I’ve had two great nights talking to Poppy, both as Owen and Braden. I feel like I’ve known her for years by now. We’ve also had more fun times reading together, meaning my dick is as satisfied as it can be without the real thing.
The only problem is she’s all I can think about, and the desire to have her in the flesh again is driving me insane. So much in fact that I’m sitting at my desk booking another ticket to Bozeman.
It’s only one day away from the office, and I’ll work on the plane and layover to keep up. Warren’s overreacting. I’m the best damn divorce attorney they have, and three days off won’t change that. I think what’s really bothering him is that he lost the other half of his tag team.
Speak of the devil. “Hey, you up for the club on Saturday? I’m hoping if I convince you to join me for a round, you’ll come to your senses,” Warren says as he plops into a chair.
I sigh exaggeratedly. “You’re not getting it, man. I’m trying to be in a relationship.”
“You’re trying, but is she on board?”
“Sort of. It’s complicated…. Anyway, I’m heading back to Bozeman this weekend, so I’ll be out Friday. I’ll come in for a couple of hours in the morning and have shit laid out for you. I’ll meet with Marlow while I’m there, so let me know if you need anything else from him.”
“Fuck man. You’re seriously into this girl.”
“I thought I was clear on that last time we talked about this?”
“Damn. I might be in denial. Sex is going to be so boring now.” He shakes his head in indignation, causing me to laugh.
“I’m sure you’ll survive. You could always try this new dating app with no pictures I heard about?” That would cover one of my tracks.
His face fills with horror. “Hell to the no. First of all, I don’t need an app to hook up, and secondly, what the fuck good is it if you can’t window shop? Is that some sick bastard’s idea of a surprise in the sheets or what?”
It was worth a shot. “Must be. Hey, thanks for your help this week. And every week. I appreciate it.”
“Okaaay… I suppose Poppy’s responsible for this… nicer version of you. Just be careful not to lose your edge. I’d hate for people to think the Butcher has gone soft.”
“Not a chance. Here. Bring this over to Neil’s desk. He’s taking this one.”
“Why are you throwing a case to that buffoon? I can toe the line while you’re out.”
“I know you can, but the client’s an asshole, and he’s the one who cheated on his wife. Justin gave me the intel this morning. I’m glad we didn’t waste a lot of time on it.”
“Ah. I’ll drop it off then.”
“Thanks.”
Warren shuts the door, and I sigh in relief. I hate it when my time is wasted on lying pieces of shit. The irony is, I’m a lying piece of shit at the moment. I just hope my good intentions counter the bad.
My phone pings with an incoming text, followed by three more before I have a chance to grab it. What the hell? Quickly wrapping up the email I’m working on, I reach for it to see what the emergency is.
Eli: Need a guys’ night. Babies are more full-time than my job. Who’s in for Saturday?
Sebastian: You’re telling me. I’m in.
Jackson: In.
Justin: Count me in.
Braden: I’ll be in Bozeman. Catch you next time.
Jackson: I thought that was last weekend…
Braden: It was. I’m going back.
Jackson: Oh fuck, welcome to the club, man.
Braden: What club?
Sebastian: The pussy whipped one.
Eli: Thanks for warning me, fucker. I better not be doing damage control.
Justin: Did you tell her you’re coming this time?
Braden: That would ruin the surprise.
Justin: Call me when you’re arrested for stalking, and I’ll see what I can do to bail you out.
Braden: You’re all a bunch of assholes.
Eli: Dinner next week. You can fill us in.
Braden: Decide which day on Saturday and let me know.
That should be a fun dinner—about as fun as a trip to the dentist.
The following two days drag on as I impatiently wait to be with Poppy again. The evenings have been my saving grace when I can talk with her. I’ve refrained from texting her during the day because once I start, my hand itches to grab my phone the rest of the afternoon, as experienced on Monday.
The plane is rolling into the gate Friday evening when I text her.
Braden: Happy Friday. Any plans tonight?
Poppy: Just dinner with Matt. Probably won’t be out too late if you want to read after?
Braden: Are you sure that’s what you’re asking for, Mouse? Don’t be shy.
Poppy: I’m open to suggestions.
Braden: I have plenty. So where are you having dinner? Anywhere I’ve been?
Poppy: Urban Kitchen, and not unless you have a secret life I’m unaware of.
Braden: I’ll have to give it a try.
Poppy: Next time you’re in town?
Braden: It’s a date. Enjoy your dinner. I’m looking forward to suggesting things later.
Poppy: LOL me too…
That went exactly as planned. The timing is perfect for picking up the rental car and heading that way.
I’ve been wanting to meet this Matt guy anyway.
Make sure he’s not after my girl while I’m not around.
If he isn’t, he’s an idiot, and if he is?
He’ll understand she’s mine by the end of the night.