Chapter Five
Paisley’s Choice
Closing the final customer file, my eyes go to the clock. It’s going to be another late night, even later than normal. It’s nearly six, and Mr. Walters is still in with a client. There is no way I can leave until they are done. Trying to keep busy, I stand up, walk across the office, and shuffle the files in my hands as my mind strays to Lark. I shouldn’t be thinking about him, not right now. I should be focused on work and nothing else. That’s easier said than done.
I haven’t dated much, not in a while at least. I’ve been asked out more than a few times, but I’ve always turned the guys down, just like I did with Lark. None of the ones I did date ever bothered to ask again. The fact he made the effort to ask a second time, even offering an alternative from a regular date, makes me want to say yes.
I open the cabinet and start placing the files in their places, deciding to push him out of my mind. Filing is tedious work, leaving me bored out of my mind. In fact, nearly everything I do here is boring. If it wasn’t for the paycheck, I’d never walk through the door again. Just as I’m placing the final file in the cabinet, the phone starts to ring, causing me to jump in surprise. I slam the cabinet shut and rush across the room, grabbing the phone.
I quietly clear my throat and say, “Walters and Killebrew Accounting. This is Paisley, how can I help you?”
“Where the hell are you?” my best friend Sonia asks, instead of saying hello. “You should have been home nearly an hour ago.”
I roll my eyes and let out a frustrated breath, wanting to fuss at her for calling here. I’ve told her, over and over again, not to call me at work. After a lot of bitching on my part, she finally quit calling my cell. Now, she calls the office phone instead. Of course, she’s not supposed to do that either, but she doesn’t care.
“Mr. Walters has another late meeting, and I have no idea when it's going to end,” I reply, plopping down in my chair. “I can’t leave until he is done.”
Mr. Killebrew is easy going, never asking me to work late. If he has a meeting or is working late on something, he always tells me to head home. Mr. Walters is the exact opposite. If he is here, he wants me at my desk. Luckily, he doesn’t mind paying overtime, and that helps ease the aggravation of spending so many hours here.
“Shit, it’s Friday night. I wanted to go to the movies, and it’s no fun going on my own,” she states, sounding a bit irritated.
Thinking about Lark’s invitation, I mumble, “I don’t feel like going to a movie. What about stopping at the bar by our place?”
As I ask the question, I mentally cringe. I know it’s going to lead to a lot of questions from Sonia. In all the years we have known each other, which is most of our lives, I’ve never once asked her to go to a bar with me. I’ve tagged along with her a few times but only after a lot of begging on her part.
“Are you talking about The Landing Strip?” she asks but doesn't give me time to respond before adding, “I’ve been trying to get you to go there with me for-freaking-ever. Why do you want to go now?”
“I met one of the owners at the gym.” I hedge, picking up a pen and twirling it between my fingers. “He said if we come in, the drinks will be on him.”
“Oh my God!” she squeals, her voice filled with excitement. “Please tell me he is one of those hotties that worked shirtless on the roof.”
Like I told Lark, our apartment is just around the corner from his bar. It’s so close, we can sit on our balcony and get a clear view of the back of the bar. Many lazy days, Sonia and I would do just that, watching the men work on the building. Most of the time, they’d strip off their shirts halfway through the day. It was a beautiful sight, three sexy men flexing their muscles in the hot sun.
“Yeah, he is one of them,” I mumble, a smile playing on my lips. “I saw him lifting weights with two guys, who I’m pretty sure are the same men that put on the roof. I think they all own the bar together.”
She makes a strangled sound before asking, “Which one is he?”
While we were watching them, we gave each man a nickname of sorts. Sonia christened one Pretty Boy, and the name fits him to a T. He looks to be a bit younger than the other two. With his beautiful body and light blond hair, he is the kind of guy that could be on the cover of GQ.
There was another guy, a bit older with brown hair, who stood taller than the other two. Every time he took his shirt off, we got a view of a massive scar on his back. From the distance, it looked to be a terrible burn. Sonia dubbed him the Warrior, saying only a man of strength could keep going after something like that.
“Bello,” I say with a sigh. “But his name is Lark.”
I named Lark myself. I called him Bello, Italian for handsome. Even with the distance between my balcony and the bar, he was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on. He’s even better up close. With his nearly black hair, neatly trimmed beard, piercing blue eyes, and ink-covered skin, he is the kind of guy every woman fantasizes about.
“Lark? What kind of name is that?” she asks, sounding intrigued. “Isn’t that a bird or something?”
“There’s a story.” I smile, remembering him telling me about his nickname. “You’ll have to ask him about it.”
Talking to him last night was odd but nice. I don’t really talk to many men, not men that I am interested in anyway. I’m definitely interested in Lark, more than interested. I just have to figure out a way to get past the awkwardness of getting to know him and start feeling comfortable enough to actually speak to the man. My parents have always said that I am shy, and they are right to a point.
As a child, I had a horrible stutter. I endured more than my fair share of bullying because of it. After years of speech therapy, I can now hold a conversation without tripping over my words. I still slip up from time to time, especially when I am nervous or excited. Meeting a new guy, someone I am attracted to, is always exciting. It also makes me a bit nervous. The stuttering always kicks in, and my shyness gets even worse.
“I asked you, so tell me how he got his name,” Sonia states, grabbing my attention. “I want all the info before I meet your Bello.”
“He asked me out, twice actually,” I whisper, not bothering to give her the answer she is seeking. “I want to say yes.”
“Do it, girl,” she says, excitement filling her voice. “You’ve been licking your wounds long enough. It’s time you got back in the saddle.”
I was engaged to the man of my dreams. Well, I thought Troy was the man of my dreams, anyway. He seemed perfect for me, handsome and hardworking. We always had fun together, and the sex was good, really good. After dating for over two years, he asked me to marry him. I said yes immediately, hoping that we would have a wonderful life. Then, he broke my heart when I caught him sleeping with another woman in the bed we shared. Even worse, the other woman was one of my closest friends and had been since I was a kid.
That was nearly three years ago, and I still haven’t let go of the hurt and anger. I know I should have let it go a long time ago. I’ve tried, even went on a few dates, but none of them went further than a quick bite to eat. Even if I did like the man, I kept comparing him to Troy, which made me scared of getting attached and getting hurt again. I’m glad they didn’t ask for a second date. If they had, I would’ve said no, knowing it wasn’t going to go anywhere. It wouldn’t have been fair to them to string them along.
“I’m scared,” I admit, feeling my stomach twist in knots. “I don’t want to get hurt again; I’m not sure I can take it.”
“Oh, honey,” she says with a sigh. “Not every man is like that asshole. They’re not all out to hurt you.”
My brain knows she is right, but my heart hasn’t quite accepted it as true. Still, I have to give it a try. I can’t keep living my life in a bubble, never letting anyone in. If I do, I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life.
“I don’t know if I’m ready to date just yet, but I would like to at least get to know him,” I say, running my teeth over my bottom lip.
“Well, then let's go get us a free drink,” Sonia states, bubbling with anticipation. “Maybe he can introduce me to one of his hot friends.”
Hearing the door to Mr. Walters’s office start to open, I know my day is finally coming to an end. “Okay, get ready. We’re going to The Landing Strip.”