No One Else: The Ladies Who Brunch Book 2, page 8
“Nope. I’m done with that shit. From now on, it’s just my hand and me.” I hold up my hand just as one of the servers walks by, cringing. “Fuck.”
The boys all chuckle. “Well, I feel sorry for your dick then.”
“Don’t be. I’ve invested in some very expensive lotion.”
All of us share another good laugh, and the conversation moves on to other topics. I know my brain doesn’t want the complications of a relationship, but my body can only focus on the one woman it seems to be craving to satisfy my growing itch. And no amount of lotion and jacking off seems to be helping the itch to go away. I sincerely hope that’s not an omen to the stupid decisions I feel I’d be willing to make just to know what it is like to be with Amelia. But part of me doesn’t think that will be an issue anyway. She doesn’t happen to be a huge fan of mine currently, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon unless I try to smooth things over.
And it looks like I need to—for my friendship with Nick, for my own sanity, and so I can feel better about my behavior. Maybe then too, once we stop fighting, I won’t want her as much. That fire and tension will be gone. That’s probably what’s fueling my desire for her. And if I squash that, Amelia will no longer be a problem.
Sounds like a plan. And now I know exactly what I need to do come Monday morning.
“I’m scared, Daddy.” Oliver wraps his arms around my legs as we stand in front of the school, waiting for the gates to open. It’s his first day of kindergarten, and I’m feeling all kinds of mixed emotions.
“It’s okay to be a little scared. This is new, but it’s also exciting. And Grandma will be here at the end of the day to pick you up.” I crouch down to his level, holding his hands in mine now. “Plus, I can’t wait to hear all about your day later tonight. We’ll make spaghetti for dinner too.”
“Spaghetti is my favorite,” he says with a slight smile on his lips now.
“I know.” Winking at him, I stand once more just as the gates are unlocked. “This is going to be a new adventure for you, kid. You’re going to learn so much.”
“I like adventures.”
I rub his shoulder. “Good, because life is full of them.”
“Let me get a picture of you two before we go inside,” my mother declares, motioning us over to a tree nearby.
Oliver starts to bounce and wiggle as we move. “But the gates are open, Grandma. I don’t want to be late.” Judging by his enthusiasm now, I guess Oliver isn’t scared anymore.
“Just really quick, honey. You’ll want to remember this day later.”
I move toward the tree and stand proudly next to my son. For years I envisioned this moment a lot differently, mostly because I anticipated Monica being here. But now, I know things are better this way. Standing tall, I let my mom take as many pictures as she wants and immediately ask her to send them to my phone.
After pictures are done, and Oliver is practically chomping at the bit, my mother and I walk Oliver into his school and meet his teacher. His classroom is colorful and full of information ready for him to absorb. Tables with tiny chairs are spaced out inside the room, a large blue rug is situated in front of a rocking chair in the corner, and the walls are covered with posters and bulletin boards that span every color of the rainbow.
After Oliver chooses his seat, I bend down in front of him. “Be kind to your classmates and pay attention today, Ollie,” I tell my son as I hug him goodbye.
“You too, Daddy. Go make money and pay bills.” He releases me and then picks up his crayon to finish his coloring page.
A few years ago, when I would drop him off at daycare, he used to ask me why I had to leave, and I would always tell him that I had to go make money so I could pay our bills. After that, he would use that as our parting words when we said goodbye. It’s been months since he’s uttered those words, but hearing them today almost brings a tear to my eye. It’s the perfect reminder of how fast he’s growing and how all of the hard work and choices I’m making are ultimately for him.
As I drive to my office, knowing I would be arriving late today, I think about what a hypocrite I sounded like this morning though. I literally told my kid to be kind to others, and here I’ve been acting like a dick to Amelia. All weekend I stewed on how I’ve behaved toward her and how now her perception of me is skewed.
I don’t like feeling threatened, and given all of the other changes going on in my life lately, I’m beginning to think I’ve been taking out my insecurities and frustrations on her. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a little fun watching her reactions to me, too, but I know that is not the type of dynamic I want to maintain with her, so I need to smooth things over today.
My plan is to go over around lunchtime when I know she won’t have a client. I just hope she lets me into her office after her threat last week.
When I exit my car, I pull up the photo of Oliver and me from this morning on my phone and study it as I walk up to the building, smiling from ear to ear as I look at my boy. Pride rushes through me at how resilient he is, how kind and energetic and loving he is despite Monica’s absence. At least I know at the end of the day that I’m doing something right by him. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life and still manage to add to the list on a daily basis, but there’s nothing I’ve done in my life that I have more pride in than raising him well up to this point.
“Well, there’s a sight I’ve never seen before.”
I lift my head to find Amelia walking toward me, carrying a few bags over her shoulder and pushing her glasses up her nose. She’s wearing a light-blue dress that makes her hair appear brighter and does nothing to hide her perfect body, but her face shines with mischief.
I stop in my steps, waiting for her to arrive in front of me. “And what sight would that be?”
“A genuine smile on your lips. And with the way you were looking at your phone?” She shakes her head. “I’m guessing you either got a dirty text from your latest flavor of the week or the latest paycheck from the last marriage you dissolved.”
The guy who had every intention of making things right with her ten minutes ago says that I should correct her and put her in her place. But that asshole guy that enjoys making her flustered? He steps in front at this moment and takes the lead. “I only smile like that when I feel my client gets what he or she deserves. And how do you know that I’m not tickled pink because one of your clients has already stopped by my office and asked for a consultation?”
The pleased smirk on her face instantly disappears. “What you deserve is a root canal and to step on a Lego for helping ruin the sanctity of marriage.”
I throw my head back in laughter. “Believe me, stepping on a Lego is a horrible experience I wouldn’t even wish on my worst enemy. But I’m honored that you feel I’m yours.”
Taking a step toward me, she hikes her bags up higher on her shoulder. “You are the enemy, Ethan Fuller. And I’m going to love watching you get what you deserve.” She arches her brow and then spins on her heels, heading right toward her office and leaving me lusting after her.
God, I want to fuck her and show her how crazy she makes me. Why does one of the most beautiful women I’ve seen in ages have to be someone that stands for the exact opposite of what I do for a living, and why does she have to be my friend’s sister?
“Fuck my life,” I mutter as I finish the walk to my office and step inside, shoving my phone in my pocket. “Good morning, Yvonne.”
My secretary is sitting at her desk acting as our receptionist, and her head lifts with a bright smile on her lips when she hears me. “How was kindergarten drop-off?”
“Great. Oliver was a little scared, but once we got inside, he was eager for us to leave.”
“That’s great. My son held onto my leg and screamed for five minutes until the teacher finally bribed him with candy, and I snuck out the door.”
“Yikes. Sounds like fun.”
“Parenting always is.” She winks.
“All right, are we all ready for the new clients in the conference room?”
“Yup. Paperwork is on the table, ready to go.”
“Excellent.” I head to my office, grab my things, and then proceed to the conference room just a few minutes later. But when I go to take a seat in my chair, the brochure sitting on top of our welcome package for clients freezes me in my tracks.
“Before you go through with the big D, please consider therapy.”
A picture of Amelia’s office, as well as her contact information, stares back at me as I pick up the tri-fold of paper and read through her welcome pamphlet.
My blood pressure spikes, my jaw tightens, and suddenly the apology that I had planned for later today flies right out of my head.
“Yvonne!” I rush from the conference room and watch my secretary jump in her seat.
“Yes, Mr. Fuller?”
“What the hell are these?” I hold up the brochure in question.
With wide eyes, she slinks back in her chair. “Those are the brochures that Dr. St. Clair dropped by earlier this morning.”
“What?”
“She said you two spoke and decided to cross-promote. I figured that’s why she was waiting for you in your office last week. I really thought the slogan was quite catchy,” she continues, feeding my skyrocketing blood pressure even more. “And what a great idea to offer counseling to our clients. Sometimes divorce can be avoided if you just talk out your issues.”
Is there steam coming out of my ears? I feel like there’s steam.
“Fuck!” Spinning around with the brochure in hand, I slam the door of my office open and beeline right for Amelia’s door. I don’t care if she has a client right now. This conversation can’t wait.
Knocking way more than politely on the glass on her door, I rock on my heels as I wait for her to answer. And when she does and sees what I assume can only be described as pure rage on my face, her beaming white smile holds me hostage for a moment until her extreme pleasure from the state I’m in becomes apparent.
“Yes, Mr. Fuller? Can I help you?”
“Care to explain these?” I hold the pamphlet up for the third time in less than five minutes.
“Oh, those. I figured if you were adamant about leaving your business cards in my office, it’s the least I could do to give your clients some reading material as well.”
“Before you go through with the big D, please consider therapy?” I mockingly read out loud in a feminine voice. “Really catchy.”
“I thought so.” Her grin is controlled, but I can tell that she’s fucking loving this.
“You know, I had every intention of coming over here today to apologize to you, to admit that I’ve been an ass since we met and that my reaction to you has been unwarranted, that you haven’t truly done anything to me that justifies my behavior. But now…”
She opens the door wider and crosses her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts together, and I fight like hell not to look down and appreciate them. “Yes?”
“Now this is war.”
Narrowing her eyes at me, we stand there in silence until she finally speaks. “Are you sure you want that?”
“You’re the one who entered into this battle.”
“But you started it.”
“I don’t think this complex is big enough for the both of us, Dr. St. Clair.”
“Are we in an old western film now, Mr. Fuller?”
Fuck, the woman is making me lose my concentration. The flecks of gold in her eyes are distracting, the purse of her lips has me wanting to smash my mouth to hers, and the crinkle between her brows is so damn sexy that I wonder if she wears that same expression when she comes.
What the hell, Ethan? You’re fucking losing it, man.
Before I do something I can’t take back and give in to the physical draw I feel toward her, I step back a few feet and continue moving backward while keeping our eyes locked. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’m not scared of you, Ethan. On the contrary, I think you’re scared of me.” I freeze in my movements but then she drops her arms and moves forward, closing the distance I just put between us. “I think my job and my presence here derails you, makes you think about all of the demons you’re keeping locked inside. Perhaps you yourself could benefit from a little therapy.” She grabs the brochure from my hands, whips out a pen from God knows where, and presses the pamphlet to my chest as she scribbles something on the paper.
“Here,” she says, leaving the paper pressed to me until I reach up and grab it before she starts to walk away but still watches me from over her shoulder. “First session is on me. I don’t normally help men in their thirties process their problems unless it’s with their partners. But for you,” she continues as she drops her eyes up and down my body, “I guess I can make an exception. Have a good day, Mr. Fuller.”
I look down at her writing, her signature with a ‘20 percent off your first session’ voucher written in the ink. And then she enters her office once more, the click of her lock echoing as she leaves me standing in place, hard as stone, and knowing now more than ever—I am thoroughly fucked when it comes to this woman.
Chapter 5
Amelia
Closing the door to my office, I march over to my desk and place my palms on the surface, leaning forward as I catch my breath. “Holy shit.”
As I stare at my reflection in the mirror on the wall, my heart threatens to burst from my ribcage. I’m so nervous that I think I might pass out, and my armpits are so sweaty I could give Mary Katherine Gallagher a run for her money.
But keeping my cool in front of Ethan just ranked in one of my top five moments of my life, hands down. The look on his face was priceless as I put him in his place and offered him a little therapy of his own.
The truth of the matter is, we all have shit in our pasts that we don’t deal with, try to sweep under the rug, or perhaps just don’t realize what an impact it had on us until later in our lives. But I can tell that Ethan’s problem with me has far more to do with him. It’s not just me being a threat to his business—and part of me hates that I want to know what it is.
Alas, I know he’ll never take me up on my offer for a discounted session, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that he has a lot of balls trying to cross over into my territory and stake a claim. So now I’ve turned the tables on him, and there’s one person I want to tell about my triumphs more than anything.
“Talk to me, Amelia Be Delia.” Penelope answers the phone sounding busy but cheery nonetheless.
“I dropped off the brochures this morning, and they got me just the reaction I was looking for.”
Penelope cackles through the line. “Excellent. Did you show him your BDE?”
“I really hate that phrase, Pen. I don’t have a dick.”
“Big Dick Energy doesn’t just apply to men, Amelia. Would you rather me say Big Vagina Energy?”
I contemplate her words in silence. “I see your point.”
“Thank you. So I take it our little enemy wasn’t pleased about the delivery?”
Smiling, I finally relax a bit and slink back into my chair. Glancing at the clock, I note that I have ten minutes until my client arrives. “Hardly. I dropped them off at his office this morning before he arrived, which he was late today by the way. Not sure how he’s managing a business by starting work at ten a few days a week, but that doesn’t matter.”
“Focus, Amelia.”
“Right. So I told his secretary that we had an agreement to cross-promote, and I would love for the pamphlets to be used in the welcome paperwork for their clients.”
Penelope’s laughter has me grinning even harder. “I love it.”
“Needless to say, I imagine his secretary did as she was told, but he discovered it just a few moments ago.”
“Is he fuming?”
I stand up and move to my door, peering around the curtains to see if he’s still outside. “He was when he came over and gave me a piece of his mind a few moments ago. It seems he’s gone back into his office for now, but the best part was when I wrote a 20 percent off voucher on the pamphlet he had in his hand. The look on his face was priceless, Pen.”
“Good work, soldier. Now, let me know if you need me to drop the atomic bomb. You know he won’t know what hit him if we do that.”
Yesterday at brunch, as I was filling the girls in on the developments with Ethan, everyone started brainstorming ways to get under his skin and put him in his place after his business card stunt. Penelope’s final move is pretty monumental, but I don’t want to have to use it unless absolutely necessary.
“I’ll keep you posted.”
“Excellent. In the meantime, try not to sleep with him, okay?”
I nearly choke on my tongue. “Penelope, that is not going to happen.”
She sighs knowingly, like this conversation is not stimulating enough for her, and she’s getting bored. “Oh, Amelia. Do you not remember what we just went through with Charlotte?”
My confidence starts to retreat. “What do you mean?”
“All the sexual tension boiling over between Charlotte and Damien was bound to end with them fucking, and look what happened. I hate to break it to you, honey…but you’re in a very similar predicament.”
“No…I’m not…”
She cackles again. “I imagine it must be hard for you to hear this, given your profession and all, but Amelia? You’re in denial, honey. You want the man’s dick.”
“Penelope!” I scoff, marching back to my desk and noting that I only have three minutes now before I absolutely have to get off the phone. “Look, I know I admitted that the man is hot, and there is no denying that. But after the way we’ve interacted with each other? I could never…”
“Never say never, girl.”
“Ugh. Whose side are you on?” My resolve is wavering the longer this conversation goes on.
