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Don't Say a Word: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance by Eva Luxe, Juliana Conners (43)



 

THREE DAYS LATER

 

I’m summarizing a deposition that had been taken in an oil and gas case for Janice, when my doorbell rings. Startled, I look at the clock and wonder how it already got to be so late. Jimmy is supposed to come by to talk once again. That’s the very last thing I want to be doing right now, so I hope I can get it through to him this time that we’re over for good.

I hurry to tidy up my case files so that there’s room at the table. This work is rather boring and a paralegal could do it. I long to be back on the much more interesting and complex cases that Asher had assigned me.

Janice is local counsel for a large gas company. A national law firm gives her work and tells her how they want it done. That means she’s lowest on the pecking order and has to do a lot of busywork, which she assigns to associates like Kim and me.

But Asher’s clients pay big money for him to represent them, and he does the important things in all of their commercial litigation cases. He’s not local counsel; he’s the main counsel. He’s not fifth or sixth chair at trial like Janice is, if she’s even invited to participate. He’s first chair.

How could I have ruined such an exciting personal and professional opportunity to work with Asher? I wonder, as I stand up to get the door. Now I’m stuck working for crazy Janice and helping her with her little local counsel roles.

All I had to do was wear the fucking outfit.

And who knows what else after that.

But that’s the exciting part.

As I walk to the door, I try to put to rest any thoughts of Asher for now. I have more immediate concerns.

It feels strange to open the door to Jimmy, who used to live here and who would always just walk right in. We’d set up this time this evening to meet and talk, although I’m beginning to realize it wasn’t the best idea.

In fact, I’ve known that all along but I just started to feel bad. And bored. Very bored.

I’m aghast to see that he’s carrying flowers.

“Hi,” he says, awkwardly half hugging me while handing me the bouquet at the same time.

“Hi.”

He snaps a picture of me with his cell phone.

“What did you do that for?” I ask him, annoyed.

“So I can show my mom how much you like the flowers,” he says with a grin. “She helped me pick them out for you. She says to say hi.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Leave it to Jimmy to need to take a picture for Mommy Dearest. And to bring her up as a way to guilt trip me no doubt.

Sure, his parents were very helpful to me after my dad died. But I soon noticed he was way too much of a mama’s boy to do anything without consulting with his mom first. I also never appreciated her not- so- subtle hints about when Jimmy and I were going to get married or have kids. I don’t even think I want kids, an idea which never went over well with her.

“Tell her I say hi too,” I respond, but just to be nice.

His hair looks blonder but when he catches me noticing it I make sure to shift my gaze away. I don’t want him to think I’m still into him.

“I’ve been outside, tanning a lot, getting back into shape,” he says, as if I had mentioned something about the way he looks, when I hadn’t. “Anything to kill the boredom. And loneliness. You know?”

I shrug, not wanting to acknowledge that I had just been thinking the same thing. I walk over to the kitchen and ask him if he wants anything to drink, just to avoid having to answer his question.

“Got any beer?” he asks, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I reach towards the back of the fridge and pull out one of the Guinesses he’d left here when he moved out. I slide it across the kitchen counter at him but once he picks it up he heads over to the couch.

I had assumed we would sit at the kitchen table.

“What about you, what have you been up to?” he asks.

Showing my boss my panties and letting him play with my pussy before he pretty much demotes me anyway, I think, but I just say, “Oh you know, just work.”

“How’s it going?” he asks. “How do you like the new job?”

“It’s going pretty well,” I answer, vaguely.

If “well” means doing boring busywork for a madwoman.

I pour some water from my Brita filter pitcher into a glass.

“And what is the lady having?” Jimmy asks me, as I reach for some lemon to add to my water.

“Water,” I announce.

As I squeeze the lemon into my glass of water, his face falls.

“I just want to have a nice relaxing evening…” he begins, and I know I have to cut this off before it goes any further.

“Jimmy,” I say, walking over to the living room.

He scooches over and motions for me to sit down next to him on the couch but I pretend not to notice this gesture and I sit down in the recliner instead.

As he looks at me, with a mixture of hope and disappointment in his eyes, I lose my nerve. I never should have agreed to talk to him, as I knew I would only end up hurting him more.

“Let’s just watch TV, then,” I say. “That’s relaxing.”

He shrugs, letting me know that TV-watching isn’t what he had had in mind.

I turn on the remote and flip through the channels, realizing there’s nothing on that both of us would enjoy watching. Jimmy always watches sports and plays sports video games. I’m not much of a fan of either one.

“Are any of our shows still on the DVR?” he asks.

I look at him. We had a few favorite shows we’d watch together each week, and they’ve been recording in his absence. I haven’t watched them because I’ve been too busy but I know he will assume it’s because they would make me miss him too much.

That used to be the case the last few times we’d broken up, but not this time. All I can think about this time is Asher Marks.

I’m not about to watch them with him now. I know what he’s trying to do. Lead me back into our old activities as if we’re still a couple and hope that by the time I notice what he’s doing I’ll be too far in and I’ll want to be back together.

I have no choice but to tell him what I should have told him when he first asked to meet and “talk.”

“I’m beginning to think this wasn’t a good idea,” I tell him. “I want to make sure you’re doing okay. I want us to be friends. I just…”

I’m just preoccupied with my older, rich, domineering boss.

“You just don’t feel that way about me anymore?” he guesses, his head hanging down.

And this is one of the reasons I never felt the right way about him, I realize.  He’s pouty and compliant, whereas Asher— as arrogant as he may come across— is a take charge type of guy.

“Jimmy, I guess I don’t really have anything to talk to you about today,” I tell him. “What about you? What exactly did you want to talk about?”

He shrugs again. I know this meeting was never really about talking. We have already said all that there is to say.

“Look, if you want to catch up sometime, hang out as friends, that’s cool,” I tell him. “We could go have dinner somewhere.”

He looks up at me, too hopeful.

“Like at Applebees,” I rush to clarify.

No romantic candlelit dinners for us. Not that there ever were many.

“I just think it’s not a good idea to be back in our…” I start to say.

He stands to leave and I’m grateful I don’t have to finish my sentence. Our house we used to live in together. Our familiar patterns. Our TV shows. Our non-existent sex life.

“Well next time just tell me you don’t want to talk then,” he says, like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

“Fair enough.”

This time I’m the one who shrugs. He takes another chug of his beer and then sets the half empty bottle down rather harshly, beside the flowers that he’d brought me.

“You can finish that if you want,” he says. “I know you’ve never been much of a beer drinker. But there are a lot of things about you that have changed. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

As he walks out, I know I should feel offended— he clearly meant to offend me— but I only feel relief.

And urgency. And crazy, reckless, passionate desire.

I suddenly feel overwhelmed with the need to be with Asher. He has what I’ve been looking for, even if I don’t know exactly what that is. I have a feeling that he’ll know exactly what it is that I need though, and also that he’ll know exactly how to give it to me.

Even though I’m pretty certain it’s not the best career move, I just can’t live with myself if I don’t find out what Asher Marks has in store for me.

I just hope there’s still an opportunity for me to do that.

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