Chapter Seven
Cierra
The pub was packed as always on a Saturday night. A cacophony of dishes, voices, and music surrounded Sofie and me as we made our way to a small table near the front window and sat down. With the dark woods, leather-cushioned chairs, and large mullioned windows, Tipsy Cow resembled the quintessential English pub, but the flagstone tile floors and sleek stainless steel bar gave it an urban feel.
“It’s crazy full in here,” Sofie said as she scanned the room.
“It’s Saturday. We usually come on Friday or Sunday when it’s not this hectic. Are you looking for that guy who talked our ears off the last time we were here? What was his name?” Even though I knew the menu by heart, I opened it up.
“Colin. He was cute. And I don’t see him.”
“Give it time. As I remember, he came in around ten that night.”
Sofie nodded and picked up the menu.
“Would you like something to drink?” the waitress asked as she put two glasses of water on the table.
After ordering an English pale ale for me and a dark lager for Sofie, I shrugged off my cardigan and placed my purse on the windowsill.
“How was your first week with Mr. Prescott?” Sofie asked.
“Not bad. He seems willing to get in the trenches with us. I know he’s anxious about the Vibra launch, and he wants to learn everything he can about it which is a huge plus.”
“That’s good. It can be dicey with a new boss. I’m not sure how much interaction he’s going to have with the regular staff.”
“I’m not sure about that either, but he is definitely approachable. With Mr. Linder, I always felt intimidated by him, even though he was always nice and pleasant in every interaction I had with him.”
“I know what you mean. Mr. Linder scared the hell out of me, but when he’d come to our department, he was so nice to everyone.”
The waitress brought our drinks and I placed my order for fish and chips while Sofie ordered the special—microbrew-battered halibut with sweet potato chips. It sounded delicious, but the fish and chips were to die for, and that’s what I ended up ordering every time we came here for dinner.
Sofie and I had worked together for the past three years. We became fast friends, and we both admitted it was like we had known each other for years. We hung out a lot, and I’d helped her through a couple of tough breakups. She’d only been through one with me—Jeremy. I’d met him at one of the hundreds of networking parties I attended, and we ended up hooking up right away. Our tryst was hot, intense, explosive, and it ended as quickly as it started. I never had time to fall in love with him since we burned out after only a few months and all that was left was the ash. I didn’t regret it, but I did miss him… or rather, I got used to him being beside me when I woke up, and just having him around in general. I hadn’t thought about him for over a year, but for a split second, I wished he was there beside me with his arm around me. Or maybe the small empty hole inside me was craving romance and intimacy.
“That guy at the bar is really checking you out,” Sofie said, slicing through my thoughts.
I looked over my shoulder. “Which one?”
“The guy wearing the expensive-looking olive sweater.”
I swiveled slightly in my chair and caught his gaze. Darting my eyes away and then back for a couple of brief seconds, I smiled and turned around. “He looks familiar,” I said.
“Who is he?”
“I’m not sure. He just looks familiar.” I drained the last of my beer.
The waitress came back over with two fresh glasses of beer, compliments of the man in the olive sweater. I glanced at him, held up my glass, and mouthed, “Thank you.” A few minutes later, he was standing by our table introducing himself.
“I’m Cory,” he said as he dragged a chair to our table and sat down.
“Cierra, and this is Sofie,” I said, tilting my head toward her. “Thanks for the drink.”
“You’re welcome. You girls are too pretty to not have a gentleman with you.”
“Have we met before?” I asked.
“No. I’m new to the city. Why?” His fingers brushed over my forearm.
“You just look familiar. When did you move here?”
“Two months ago. I have that kind of face. You’re not the first one to tell me that I look familiar.” His penetrating stare fixed on me.
“Are you in advertising or marketing?” I picked up my drink and brought the rim to my lips.
“Neither. Finance. Is that a problem?” He laughed dryly.
“There he is!” Sofie yelled out, then covered her mouth with her napkin, redness streaking her cheeks.
I looked over and saw Colin sauntering up to the bar. Cory threw Sofie a dirty look, and that surprised me. What’s his problem?
“Should I go over to him and say hi?” she asked.
“Yeah. He’s not with anyone. I’d go for it. What will it hurt?”
Sofie pushed her shoulders back, took a big gulp of her lager, and stood up. “I’m going for it. Wish me luck.”
I watched as she snaked her way through the crowd. When a huge grin spread over Colin’s face, I knew Sofie wouldn’t be back to the table in a while.
“Would you like anything else?” the waitress asked as she picked up the empty plates. I shook my head and she placed the bill on the table.
Before I could even touch it, Cory grabbed it. “It’s on me.”
“No way,” I said.
“I insist,” he countered.
“No. There’s no reason for you to pay for our dinner. I won’t allow it.” I extended my hand, expecting for him to give me the bill.
“Please let me buy dinner for you and your friend. I want to.” He placed his hand on mine.
“I don’t even know you. I don’t feel comfortable with you picking up the tab.” Under normal circumstances, I’d have been perfectly okay with a man picking up the bill, but I’d just met him and we weren’t on a date or anything. The whole situation seemed off-kilter to me. I also didn’t want to feel indebted to him. Some men paid and did everything for a woman, then turned ugly when she wanted to end the good times.
“I insist,” he said as he waved the waitress over, handing her the bill and a credit card.
“I didn’t really want you to do that,” I muttered.
“You can make it up to me.”
Aha, the payoff. “I’m listening.”
“Have dinner with me tomorrow night.” He smiled and fine lines radiated from the corners of his eyes.
“I can’t.”
“What about Monday?”
“I’m volunteering at a soup kitchen.”
“That’s a nice thing to do.”
“I’m involved with Lending a Helping Hand. It’s a charity that goes out to the community and helps where needed. We don’t pick one particular segment of the population or one cause, choosing instead to address all needs. I picked helping out in the soup kitchen next week.”
“I’ve never heard of that organization. I’ll have to check it out and donate some money to it. Sounds like a worthy charity.”
“It is. I’ve been involved with it since I moved here five years ago.”
“That’s nice. How’s Thursday for dinner? You have to eat.”
I laughed. He was persistent, I’d give him that. And he seemed like a nice enough guy. It wouldn’t hurt to have dinner with him. “Okay, but I’ll meet you.” Being a woman, you could never be too careful. I didn’t know him at all, and I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t making a date with an axe murderer. Considering my dating track record, I couldn’t be too careful.
“Do you like seafood?”
“I do.”
“I’ll make the reservations at Harbor Fish House.”
“Isn’t it in Fisherman’s Wharf on Pier 39?”
“Yeah. I know it sounds like I’m a tourist, but I love Fisherman’s Wharf. Are you good with that?”
“Of course. I love it there. And the views are spectacular. I don’t go there very often, so this will be a treat.”
He squeezed the top of my hand and smiled. “Great. Give me your number so I can confirm with you.” He pulled out his phone.
We exchanged phone numbers and chatted about San Francisco, our backgrounds, and what brought him to northern California. Cory Bracker came from the St. Louis area where he grew up with three siblings. Like me, he was the middle child, and we talked about how that affected us for a bit. He studied at the University of Missouri and graduated with a degree in business administration. He’d been working for a company in St. Louis when the opportunity came up for him to move to San Fran and work with a real estate development company. His job was to secure investors for the multimillion-dollar projects they had.
We spoke easily, and he certainly was generous in buying me drinks. It didn’t seem like he was trying to get me plastered like some guys do to loosen up a woman. He was polite and interesting, and I soon quashed all second thoughts about giving a stranger my phone number.
Sofie and Colin were hitting it off, and when I glanced her way, she waved me over. “I’ll be right back,” I said to Cory.
She pivoted on the barstool toward me. “Looks like you and Cory are getting along.” She giggled while she looked at me with a slightly unfocused gaze.
“He seems nice. You and Colin have been chatting up a storm.”
She giggled louder and nodded. “His cute English accent is making me so damn horny.” A peal of laughter bubbled from her lips.
“Which part of England is he from?”
“Uh… I don’t remember.” She leaned in close to my ear. “I’ve got a confession. I can’t understand half of what he says, but I love listening to him.” Another burst of laughter.
The two barstools next to Sofie opened up and I plopped down on one of them, putting a napkin on the other. “I’m going to get Cory. Make sure you hold these for me.” I scurried over to him, and soon I was leaning against the bar, sipping a Bailey’s Irish cream.
As I talked with Cory, Sofie grasped my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “Mr. Prescott is here.”
All at once my brain turned to mush, the predictable flutter that always came alive whenever I was near him unfurling in the pit of my stomach. I had no clue what Cory was talking about. “Where?” I said.
“Where what?” Cory replied.
“I was talking to Sofie.” I spun toward her. “Where is he?”
“By the pool tables. At first I didn’t recognize him without his suit, but when he looked up, I saw his eyes. They’re very distinct.”
“Are they? I hadn’t noticed.” Yeah right. They’d been haunting my dreams ever since I’d laid eyes on him.
“He’s a good-looking guy, but not as cute as my Colin.”
“Now he’s your Colin?” I said, bumping my shoulder against hers. She bobbed her head, her curls falling across her forehead as she leaned against his bicep.
I turned my attention to the pool tables, and that’s when I saw him watching his opponent make a shot. He wore a pair of jeans that fit just right and a T-shirt stretched across his chest that molded to every muscle. I licked my lips and watched him, mesmerized by the way he leaned down low, light catching the muscles in his back. His biceps tightened as he held on to the cue stick and made his shot. Every movement he made hit me between my legs. I squirmed in my chair, yet I was unable to turn away from him.
“You doing okay?” Cory’s voice broke the spell and I swiveled around, nodding.
He looked past my shoulders and for a brief second, a dark shadow fell across his face, but then it was gone. He glanced at his watch, then past me again.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
A long pause ensued and I didn’t think he heard me. As I was about to repeat the question, he looked at me again. “No. I have to go. I didn’t think it was so late. I enjoyed our conversation. I’ll call you about Thursday.” He slid off the barstool and shrugged on his leather jacket.
A sinking feeling assaulted me. Lifting my chin, I stared him right in the eyes and asked, “Are you married?”
The tenseness of the last few minutes evaporated when he laughed. He put his arm around me and said, “No, Cierra. I’m not married. Why did you ask me that?”
I shrugged, not as amused as he was, and replied, “You just sort of freaked out when you saw the time.” Now that I said it out loud, it sounded silly. Just because a guy said, “It’s late,” didn’t mean he was married.
He squeezed my shoulder. “I have an early appointment in the morning, that’s all. I wish I could stay, but I don’t function very well without getting enough sleep.” He smiled, which made me feel even sillier.
“Me neither, but I’m not as disciplined as you are.” I smiled back.
“I’ll give you a call.” He turned around and headed out of the pub.
I immediately swung around and fixed my gaze on the pool tables, but my boss wasn’t there. I pressed my lips together and heaviness spread through my body. The idea that Trace Prescott had left the pub didn’t sit well with me, and I was mad at myself for caring. I’d just had a wonderful conversation with Cory, and yet one glimpse of my boss turned everything upside down. Angry, I grabbed my purse and walked toward the restrooms.
The ladies’ room wasn’t very far, but it was a challenge to maneuver through all the people. As I elbowed, twisted, and pushed my way along, I tripped and fell forward. With my head down, my arms flailing to grab on to something to stop my fall, I crashed into something hard.
“Shit!” I cried, sure my butt was going to hit the floor when a pair of arms surrounded me, curtailing my fall. My head lay against a hard chest, and I looked up to see who’d saved me from a lot of bruises and aches. And that’s when my gaze met his. Of all the people in the pub, I had to have bumped into him.
“You slamming into me seems to have become a habit,” Mr. Prescott said.
“I tripped.” That was the only thing I could come up with. I was mortified that I’d fallen into him once again. I also couldn’t trust my body being that close to him. It was already misbehaving: dampness in my panties, shallow breathing, stomach fluttering like a swarm of butterflies had gotten loose, and a dull throb in my private parts. I tried to untangle myself from him, but he held me tight and walked me toward the back of the bar.
“It’s nice bumping into you. Are you having a good time?” His voice was smooth like melted dark chocolate, making a shiver run up my spine.
I nodded. “Sofie’s with me. We came for dinner and drinks.” Why I had to let him know that I wasn’t with a guy was beyond me. Whenever I was around Mr. Prescott, I turned from a smart, professional woman into an insipid, brainless one.
“Do you come here often?” His warm breath fanned over my face as his familiar scent wisped around me.
“Yeah. I live nearby.”
“Do you?”
I nodded and lowered my gaze. That’s when I noticed the ink peeking out from the top of his T-shirt. I wanted to tug the shirt over his head to see the full tattoo displayed over his ripped chest. My mouth was as dry as desert dust, and without thinking, I traced the outline of his tattoo with my fingernail. I could’ve sworn I heard him hiss, but before I could be sure, someone from behind pushed against me, propelling me closer to Mr. Prescott.
“It’s crowded in here,” I croaked.
“I don’t mind it.” He ran his thumb under my bottom lip, and the heat in his eyes sent a bolt of desire between my legs.
All of a sudden, the voices, the music, the clink of glasses all vanished; the only thing I was aware of was the scent and feel of him. He lowered his head and came closer. Our faces were inches away. My lips parted and I swore I heard him growl before I closed my eyes, my senses on high alert as I waited for his lips to press onto mine.
But it never happened.
My eyes flew open and Mr. Prescott stepped back, his arms dropping to his side. The warmth of him was gone, an icy chill replacing it. “Watch yourself. You don’t want to stumble again,” he said. And then he turned around and disappeared in the crowd.
What. The. Fuck? My head reeled, my body shook, and my blood boiled. I was beyond mad. A huge part of me was humiliated that I’d opened myself up to him like that. I knew he was an asshole even before Kelsey confirmed it, yet I stood there waiting for him to kiss me. I fucking wanted it.
Enough. I’m done.
A few minutes later, as I was leaving the ladies’ room, the door flew open and I jumped out of the way. A very drunk blonde teetered in on four-inch heels. She swayed toward me and I put out my hands to steady her when she looked at me.
“I know you,” she slurred.
It was Chandra Pierce, Mr. Prescott’s secretary. “Hi. It’s me, Cierra.”
“That’s right. Did you see Mr. Prescott? He had his arms wrapped all around a woman. I wonder if the paparazzi are here tonight. I’d love to have my picture in the paper.”
“Are you going to be okay? I have to get back to my friend.” I wasn’t in the mood to talk about my boss.
“You know what? The woman he was with was wearing the same thing you are. Isn’t that funny?” She swayed again and then her face went white. Her hand to her mouth, she dashed to one of the stalls.
I walked out and realized that Mr. Prescott had seen Chandra and freaked out before he kissed me. Knowing that made the sullenness shrouding me dissipate as I went back over to Sofie and Colin. They were kissing up a storm, and I figured I’d just head home.
“You leaving?” Sofie asked as I slipped on my cardigan.
“Yeah. Are you going to be okay? I can stay if you want.”
“I’m good.” She grinned.
“Okay. Call me tomorrow.”
As I was leaving, I sensed someone staring at me. I looked over my shoulder and met the smoldering eyes of Mr. Prescott. Standing there, we locked gazes and a strong connection pulsed between us. He lifted his chin at me and gave me a crooked smile. Did I see regret etched on his face? I thought so, but maybe I was reading too much into it.
I broke away and walked out into the drizzling rain.