Grumpy Best Friend: A Second Chance Romance, page 10
“Shit,” he said softly and sat down next to me. I barely managed to keep myself from crying, and as I sat there, miserable and low, I got the sense that I was going to feel like this a lot in the coming days, weeks, and months. He put his hand on my shoulder and there was some part of me that wanted to throw myself against his chest and hug him tight like I did in the old days—but I held back, caught in the moment, stuck in my own grief.
“Seriously, Bret, how can we bring in new staff?” I asked. “I mean, is it unethical?”
“I don’t think it’s unethical,” he said, eyes narrowing, his hand going tighter on my shoulder. “But I do think we need to be careful.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“We should hire security.” He stood up then and paced across the floor. I heard glass crunch under his foot and I grimaced. He stooped and picked some of it out of the rug, and muttered about getting a serious vacuum cleaner in there as soon as he could.
“I don’t want security standing around the office,” I said, leaning back in the chair. I pictured a bunch of big guys with bald heads and earpieces and suits trying to blend into the background but making everyone so uncomfortable. “If a place needs security, that means it’s not safe to begin with.”
“What did Lisa say when it happened?” he asked, poking at the tape that held the plastic down.
“She seemed weirdly unfazed,” I said. “I told her it must’ve been a mistake, even though I know it wasn’t.”
“Did she buy that?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But we’ll need to tell her the truth.” I drummed my fingers on the desk. “If we’re going to have security, we’ll have to at least tell upper management what’s going on.”
“You’re right,” he said, “even though that’ll be painful. Think Lisa will still work here once she finds out?”
“Maybe,” I said, shaking my head, “but that almost doesn’t matter. If she works here, she’s nuts, right? Why would anyone want to work here, and why would we hire anyone that would want to?”
He laughed softly and came back over to me. I hated that stupid laugh, like how I was feeling was absurd and dumb—even though I knew I was spiraling out of control. I was overanalyzing, obsessing about little details that didn’t really matter, and I still couldn’t help myself.
“We’ll take it one step at a time,” he said, putting his hand back on me. I leaned closer to him then and tried to take a deep breath to calm myself, but only got his smell, fresh laundry and cut grass, sending a heady wave up around my skull.
“I feel overwhelmed,” I said softly. “Like I’m dizzy and I’ll never get my balance again.”
“I know what you mean,” he said. “Believe me, starting a company doesn’t usually involve a life-or-death situation.”
“Life or death?” I asked, and my eyes went wide. “You think Zeke will kill someone?”
He winced and shook his head. “Bad turn of phrase. I just mean, most people don’t have to deal with organized crime when they try to open a factory, you know?”
“I guess,” I said, and deflated a bit. He moved closer, and his other hand touched my leg, and I knew I should’ve pushed that away, since it definitely crossed a line, but I needed the comfort. I leaned toward him and met his gaze.
He held me like that for several long seconds, and I studied his lips. I used to think a lot about that mouth—what it would feel like against mine, what it would say after I gave myself to him. “I used to want to lose my virginity to you, you know,” I blurted out, and immediately regretted it.
His eyes went wide, and his fingers dug into my leg. I couldn’t believe I said it, out of the blue like that, and realized I must really be having a hard time if I couldn’t even control myself. But he didn’t move, didn’t recoil, and even came closer, sending my heart into a wild frenzy. My lips parted slightly, my tongue against my teeth, and I wanted to tell him all the fantasies I used to have—of him taking me out in that park, in the forest behind my house, or even in my own bed while my mom was at work. I returned to those fantasies over the years, even when I thought I hated him. Those fantasies fueled many evenings of self-exploration.
And now I’d blurted one out like a complete and utter moron, out of absolutely nowhere.
“I wanted a lot more than that from you,” he said, his voice low and husky. “You know that, right? I didn’t leave to hurt you. I left to save myself.”
“I know,” I said, and pushed his hand off my thigh. “We made a lot of mistakes, didn’t we?” I shrugged him off my shoulder, and moved away from the table. I stood and walked away, breathing fast to try to get myself under control.
“I mean it, Jude,” he said. “I knew I screwed up, but—”
“Forget I said anything, okay?” I turned to face him again, arms crossed over my chest. “I’m just a little messed up right now from the stress.”
“I get it.” He stood and I saw pity in his eyes—freaking pity. I wanted to scream at myself and at him. Instead, I settled for getting out of there. I strode toward the front door and he followed me, though gave me space. “If you need to talk—”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “I don’t need to talk. I think I’ve said enough already.”
“Jude,” he said, and reached me before I could run out of the door. He took my arm and spun me toward him, and I put my hands on his chest and I was so mad at him, so freaking mad at him for coming back and putting me through this, for making me want him again after all these years, after he broke my heart and left me alone in that town with a drug addict mom and no hope for the future. I hated him, and still loved him, and wanted this nightmare to end. He stood down and kissed my cheek, his lips lingering there—
And I turned my head to stare into his eyes, his mouth so close to mine that I could taste his lips already.
I stood up on my toes and kissed him.
It was stupid and impulsive, but I’d wanted to do it for so long, and I was so angry with him, so goddamn angry, and he looked perfect, and I’d embarrassed myself already—so I threw myself into it. His hand wrapped into my hair, his other hand on the small of my back, and that kiss sent shooting stars through my closed eyes as a burst of desire ran up my spine and lingered on my tongue. My lips were numb when I pulled back, breaking it off, and he stared at me like he wanted to pull me back into the office, rip off my clothes, and finally have his way.
“I should go,” I said, and left before he could argue. I ran down the steps, burst out into the parking lot, and stood in the shade of some bushes, bent over with my hands on my knees, gasping for air.
My mouth tingled and my tongue felt like it was disconnected from my face.
That was our first kiss. After all that tension, we’d never kissed, and I thought the chance passed a long time ago. And yet here we were, grown up, and still he could drive me absolutely insane.
I hated him, and god, I wanted him. I left before I could go back up there and do something I’d regret.
11
Bret
I spent that night cleaning up what was left of the glass in the carpet and came into the office early the next morning. Jude wasn’t around yet, and I didn’t want her to be a part of this conversation—she’d struggled enough with what happened the day before.
That kiss ran through my mind, over and over, as I sat at the conference table in the center of the main room and opened my laptop. Her lips tasted like honey and heaven, and after all that time, after so many years, she lived up to every single expectation. There was a part of me that worried I rushed things, that maybe I should have waited, but as soon as she mentioned her virginity, I couldn’t help myself. It drove me wild, thinking about her writhing on my thick cock, and when she tilted her chin toward me, I had to have more.
It’d been everything I wanted, and so much more. She was a grown woman now, with a woman’s body and a woman’s taste, and although so much had happened since we were last together, I felt like I was the same guy I used to be. Even if I made a mistake, I hoped I could make up for it somehow—and taste those lips again.
I opened the Zoom app and set up a meeting. A few minutes later, Lady Fluke joined, and her face appeared on my screen. She was sitting in her office in London, and it was midafternoon based on the way light filtered in through the large glass window. She wore her hair in a prim bun, her makeup simple and modest, her blouse buttoned up to her throat. She scowled at me like I ruined her afternoon.
“Thanks for meeting with me,” I said.
“Well, you didn’t give me much choice now, did you?” Her frown deepened and I couldn’t blame her for being annoyed. I sent her an email this morning inviting her to meet, and said that something important and dangerous went down. I called it urgent, which wasn’t far from the truth. “So tell me what happened,” she said.
I gave her a quick rundown of the story: Jude’s interview, the brick through the window, and the chain incident. “He’s getting more aggressive,” I said.
“It’s all intimidating,” she said. “He doesn’t have a damned thing. Did you contact that lawyer I recommended?”
I nodded and tapped at my phone. “We signed paperwork two days ago. We’re waiting to see if Zeke sends anything over.”
“He won’t,” she said. “He was like this when we were married. All bark, no bite.”
I pursed my lips and tried to keep myself calm. Maybe that brick hadn’t hit anyone, but smashing a window like that was a huge deal. Whoever threw it must’ve had one hell of an arm to reach the second floor like that.
“I understand you think he’s harmless,” I said. “But from my perspective, he’s already done damage. That woman, Lisa, who knows if she’ll still come work here. And she might go tell the story about how a brick got thrown through the window of the Fluke Company’s new office building.”
Lady Fluke frowned deeply at that. If anything would get her to act, it was bad press. “How much do you know about that woman?” she asked, which was the wrong question, of course. She should’ve been more concerned with our safety—but that wasn’t how she functioned.
“Not much,” I said, “but it doesn’t matter. Even if she still comes to work here, and keeps her mouth shut about the brick incident, what else is going to happen? Zeke’s not going to stop there. This is just the beginning. How can we hire a staff when there’s a constant threat of danger lurking over everything?”
Lady Fluke’s eyebrow knit as she shook her head. “Then don’t hire a staff. Do what you need to do to make this go away.”
“I can’t run a company without employees,” I said, clenching my jaw. “And by the way, we bake cookies. It’s insane that organized crime is anywhere near involved with this.”
“I’m well aware,” she said, and clucked her tongue. “This is my fault, of course. I was a silly and impulsive girl. I never should’ve married that monster.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I want to go to the police. They can help. We could get a restraining order and maybe—”
“No,” Lady Fluke said firmly. “Absolutely no police.”
“Lady Fluke—”
“No,” she said over me, and I clamped down my teeth in frustration. “That will leak to the press, and I can’t have that risk. If you need security, I told you to hire a company. I can have one of my people pull up a list of vetted and discreet companies.”
“Think about it from our perspective,” I pushed, stealing Jude’s argument since it was a good one. “Nobody’s going to want to work here if security’s going to be lurking around. They won’t feel safe.”
“Do it anyway,” she said. “You’re the one that seems to think it’s necessary.”
I resisted the urge to slam my laptop lid shut. She was so obsessed with her family’s image that she couldn’t see the danger we were in—either that, or she truly didn’t think Zeke was a problem.
I had to come at this another way.
“When was the last time you spoke with your ex-husband?” I asked her suddenly.
She blinked at me and shook her head. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
“Humor me, please, Lady Fluke. When was the last time?”
She tapped her fingers on her desk and the sound came through like a staccato ping over my laptop speakers.
“I suppose it’s been at least ten years,” she said. “We saw each other briefly when I was in America for a trip a long time ago. But we barely spent time together.”
“Did he seem like the man you married back when you were a young?” I asked.
She laughed softly. “Of course not,” she said. “No, he was grown now. He seemed much more—” She stopped herself and gave me a look. “You want me to admit that people can change. That maybe he wasn’t dangerous back then, but maybe he’s dangerous now. Is that what you’re trying to do?”
I smiled and spread my hands. “You see through me.”
“It won’t work. I’m telling you, even with his connections, Zeke isn’t a violent man. He’s going to try to scare you, but that’s all.”
I knew this wouldn’t get me anywhere. She was completely blind to her ex-husband, and couldn’t bring herself to see just how dangerous he’d become.
In a lot of ways, it mirrored how I felt about Jude. I was stuck back in the old days, back when we were teenagers, and it was hard to try to catch myself back up with all the time that had passed. She was beautiful now, and seemed much calmer and more centered, and much more driven than she was back then—but even still, she was the same old Jude.
Maybe people didn’t change all that much. Maybe Lady Fluke was right about Zeke.
I couldn’t take that chance. I ended the call with her, and before she logged off, she gave me one final look and said, “Remember, no police. Handle it yourself.” And then she was gone.
I resisted the urge to throw the laptop out the broken window. I stood and paced, hands behind my back, until the office door opened and Jude came in, wearing a pair of dark slacks and a cream-colored top that perfectly accentuated her smooth, pale skin. She smiled at me a little, and her cheeks turned pink. I thought of the kiss yesterday, her tongue and lips, and involuntarily opened my mouth as if I would kiss her again.
But I knew that only happened in the heat of the moment. She held up a hand in greeting.
“Let me say something,” she said, and I laughed a little and gestured for her to continue. “Yesterday happened, okay? We kissed. Let’s not pretend like it didn’t.”
“Perfect,” I said. “I didn’t plan on ignoring it.”
“Good.” She bit her lower lip. I loved when she did that. “But I just need to be clear that I was very anxious, and in a very emotional state when it happened. That’s not going to be become a thing.”
“Of course.” I worked hard not to smile, and failed. “But it could.”
“Bret,” she said, anger in her tone. “No, we’re not doing that. I hate you still, and we’re colleagues, and just no, it’s not happening. Are we clear?”
“Crystal,” I said, nodding. “Now can we talk about work?”
“God, yes, please.” She dropped her bag on the table and took her laptop out. “What are you doing here so early, anyway?”
“I had a call with Lady Fluke.” She frowned at me and tilted her head. “Yes, I know, I should’ve waited for you, but it was important,” I said.
“What did she want?” she asked.
“I told her about what happened yesterday, and I said we should go to the police about it.” I crossed my arms and turned toward the window. “You can guess how that went.”
“She told you no police,” Jude said.
“That’s right.” I curled my hands into fists and banged one against the windowsill. The plastic sheeting blew in slightly, and a breeze touched my skin. Fortunately, it was nice out, but if this had happened in the winter, it would be freezing inside. “It’s insane. She’s convinced that Zeke’s not a real threat. That everything he’s doing is just intimidation.”
“Maybe she’s right,” Jude said.
I turned, surprised, and stared at her. She looked back, head tilted. “What are you talking about?” I asked, incredulous. “You were here. You saw the brick.”
“I know,” she said. “And I saw the chains the doors, and I saw him try to scare us with his goons. But what if that’s all he’s going to do? Annoying, stupid pranks?”
“Come on,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re overcompensating now.”
“I am not,” she said angrily, then seemed to gather herself. “And if I am, is that so wrong? We need to do something, and our options are limited. Do you plan on backing down?”
“No,” I said.
“I don’t either. I plan on seeing this through.” Her eyes seemed to glitter with an inner rage and that sent a spark down my spine. I loved seeing her like this—angry and unwilling to take any bullshit. That was the Jude I loved most of all. “The situation with Zeke is unfortunate, but our hands are tied.”
“Lady Fluke suggested we hire a security team,” I said. “Although you already made the case against that.”
Her lips flattened and she drummed her fingers on the table. “For now, let’s keep going. If Zeke escalates, we’ll hire someone to help.”
“Where’s the line?” I asked, spreading my hands almost in desperation. I could see how this might go—we keep ignoring it, pretending like it’s no big deal, and Zeke gets worse and worse until he finally crosses the line, but by then it’s way too late. It was a slippery slope, and the longer Jude pushed back hiring security, the less likely it was to ever happen.
“I don’t know what the line is,” she admitted. “But we’re trying to get this expansion up off the ground, and our hands are tied behind our backs. I’m willing to wait, at least for a while.” She flipped open her laptop and did some quick typing. “Look, I have a bunch of emails, and a few interviews to get through today. Can we talk more about this later?”
“Sure,” I said, staring at her, and she didn’t look back. I wondered what she was thinking, how she could flip her switch like that and go from being terrified yesterday, to being prepared to entertain the idea that Zeke was full of shit today. It seemed entirely irrational—but then again, I knew the amount of pressure she felt, and how badly she wanted to get this right.
