I nodded numbly and she left me. I leaned against the wall between art displays and continued drinking while she disappeared into the crowd. My life was over. Neither had waited for me. Neither had loved me enough. I wished like hell I could have said the same right then and there, but like the pathetic individual that I was, I had waited. Alone and in the darkness.
“Brent! Brent! Over here!” another suit yelled from close by. Oh, hell no. I couldn’t risk him seeing me. That would be…too much.
I darted away, only slightly swaying from my drink and rushed up the glass stairs to the third floor. I had no clue where I was heading, but I kept on moving until I came to a heavilystained glass door at the back of the building. It was partially ajar and I swept inside, thinking I had found the bathroom. I was hoping for a fancy, large stall to hunker down in, but instead I found an office. The front half was lit brightly while the back half was in shadows.
I shrugged. What the heck. I might as well.
Curiosity led me and I wondered farther into the room after my eyes had adjusted. I could see that it was decorated as if it was split in two, right down the center. The right side of the room was a lot of stainless steel contemporary junk – desk, shelves, printer, while the left side was homey and cozy with a dark wooden desk and bookshelves. Two very different people occupied this room that was for sure. My roots pulled me to the left, naturally.
I skimmed the books on photography in the shelves and I started to wonder if I had walked into Brent’s shared office. I glanced at the desk and my suspicions were confirmed. And not in a great way. There was a framed photograph of Brent on the desk. And in the picture was that darn supermodel with her arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind. My heart burned to an inferno as I stared at their cheesy smiles. I would never have that again.
I closed my eyes and rested my head back against the bookshelf and finished off my drink. I could feel a cool breeze coming from somewhere off to my left and it felt wonderful against my heated skin. I wouldn’t cry here. No, I wouldn’t. I would wait.
A few minutes later, after dumping my empty drink in his trashcan, I had pulled myself together enough to make another quick sprint – hopefully, not too drunkenly – back down the stairs. On my way toward the door…I heard…that laugh, again. The freaking supermodels. I peeked out and spied her, a man of Asian descent, and a younger man talking amiably and walkingright toward me. Cripes! I really didn’t want to get caught in here. I shut the door quickly and silently before frantically scanning the office. There was nowhere decent to hide.
Except the curtains in the back that were, ever so slightly, blowing in a breeze. They were thick and sturdy enough to hide a giant, much less little ‘ol me. Perfect. I sprinted toward them and skidded to a halt, banging into the wall next to them.Ow!Dang, that hurt. Freaking bastard.
I yanked them back and darted behind. And, to my utter and complete horror, a hand wrapped around my mouth at the same time I realized the wall I was leaning against wasn’t a wall at all. It was a man’s body, massive and rock-hard and toasty warm. I started to scream, just as the door to the room opened up.
“Shut it, thief. My damned drink? How could you? And downing a perfectly made whiskey, I might add, is also criminal. It was made to be savored not gulped. Now don’t go and ruin our hiding place, too. Hush, now,” a deep voice rumbled against my ear.
Cold and Deadly? What the heck was he doing in here?
I settled down when I heard Supermodel laugh again at something one of the men said. Was it better back here with him or out there with her? It may have been stupid, but being hidden with C&D sounded good to me in comparison. Wait. He was packing. I could feel it. Guns didn’t scare me, but why the heck did he have one on him, anyway?
I felt him rustling around and I tensed. What was he planning on doing? The breeze intensified. A window? Was he planning on going out the darn window? Can you say lunatic?
He stepped back and pulled me with him and I breathed in as deeply as I could through my nose since he was still covering my mouth, preparing to scream when my feet touched down on concrete.Oh.A balcony. I could hear Supermodel, Asian dude,and Young Guy moving closer as they talked about the revenue of the show. Maybe, I wouldn’t get caught.
“Are you going to scream or throw a fit?” C&D asked in a whisper.
I shook my head as much as he let me and he carefully released my mouth, only to swing me around and press my back against the concrete wall with his large form pressed against mine. His body felt like heated steel, and I trembled.What the heck was going on?His baby blues gazed way down and found my wide-eyed gaze. “Shh. I’m not going to hurt you. You don’t need to worry.”
I bit my lip and wished he would get the heck off me then…but, he didn’t. Instead, he silently listened to the conversation happening inside the office.
Long ticks passed by on a slow clock.
Time extended and once my adrenaline died down, I decided it was majorly boring. Although, it did sound like Brent was making a good living off of something that was just supposed to be a fun hobby for him. And I also figured out that Supermodel was a darn gold digger. All her questions referred to future sales and future endeavors. Nothing about his current time management and how much of a toll it took on him to do both jobs.
I felt C&D’s body shaking and realized he was chuckling soundlessly. Guess he thought just as much of her as I did. Good. That meant I wasn’t just trying to find flaws wherever I could. If that was the type of woman Brent wanted, well, good luck buddy.
I yawned and rested my head against C&D’s muscular chest. The alcohol was starting to wear off and it was making me sleepy. C&D rubbed my arms, almost absently, as the breeze intensified, his head dipping down as he rested his cheek on top of my head. He was keeping me warm…and it didn’t feel so bad. I was grateful, even if I had no clue what in the Sam-hell hewas doing here, other than eavesdropping. Pretty tedious, if you asked my humble opinion.
“Is the balcony open?” Supermodel asked a few seconds later. We froze.
“It shouldn’t be,” one of the men answered. They must have felt the breeze when it picked up.
C&D and I glanced at each other and he mumbled, “Shit.” I’m not big on cussing, but yeah, it fit. His hand reached for the door and he slowly began sliding it closed, but it squeaked. Luckily, Supermodel was talking obnoxiously loud and they didn’t catch it, but he couldn’t close it any further without risking them hearing.
Their voices got closer, and a thought hit. Perhaps an alcohol induced one, but C&D wasn’t coming up with anything brilliant. “Pick me up,” I whispered quickly.
“What?” he muttered, a scowl messing up his gorgeous eyes.
Men, I swear!Supermodel was not about to catch me eavesdropping. If she was going to catch me doing anything, it was going to be a heck of a lot better than that. I pushed his chest, and startled, he stumbled back a step. I hiked up my skirt and jumped, wrapping my legs around his waist, and arms around his neck. He instinctively caught me and I cried out - sounding pretty darn realistic, “God, yes! More!”
Supermodel and the men’s voices, which were only a few feet off, stopped. C&D looked awfully dumbfounded. He hissed next to my ear, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Saving our behinds,” I mumbled just as quietly, then hollered, “PLEASE! MORE!”
