Naomi 

 

Early the next morning, I stirred to the ringtone of Aretha Franklin soulfully singing “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman.” Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I reached for my cell.

“Grace, this better be really important,” I grumbled.

“Girl,” Grace started on a high tone, “did you ever think to call your friend and let her know you’re, oh, I don’t know, alive?” she finished irately.

“Calm down, I didn’t go. I’m home and—”

She interrupted. “What, why not?”

“I got into an accident,” I told her as I sat up in bed and looked over at the clock that read 8:06.

“What!” she bellowed in my ear.

“I’m fine. It was just a little fender bender—”

“You okay?” Grace jumped in before I could finish.

“Yes, Grace, I’m good.” Just as the last word left my mouth a knot formed in my stomach.

I wrapped my arm around it, hoping it would subside but it didn’t. Bile rose and sat at the back of my throat. Visions of what had happened last night filled my brain.

“Thank the Lord!” she prayed and went on, “The Rover okay?”

“Yeah, she’s good. Just a little dent in the bumper and a few minor scratches,” I answered, swinging my legs off the bed and placing my feet to the floor. I sighed.

“Mimi,” Grace called softly.

“Yeah?”

“Child, what’s going on with you?” she asked with concern.

The worry in her voice had my head falling into my hand. My pulse began to pick up and my palms grew clammy. With tightness in my chest, tears brimming my eyes, I cleared the thickness from my throat.

“Talk to me, Naomi?” Grace said softly.

My confession lay on my tongue but before I had a chance to reveal it, my boss, Harrison’s, voice sounded.

“Is that Naomi?” I heard him ask Grace.

“Why?” she replied defensively.

“Ask her if she wants to come in for a few hours and help organize the files from the computer glitch the other day and—”

I didn’t even let him finish or Grace speak for me as I told her, “Tell him I’ll be there by noon.”

“Mimi,” she whispered.

Harrison continued to talk in the background as I said, “Just tell him, Grace. I’ll see you soon.”

I didn’t give her a chance to reply as I took the phone from my ear and tapped the End button.

 

****

 

After a long hot shower and three cups of coffee the ache in my stomach hadn’t gone away. Pulling up to the drive-thru, I replayed the events of last night yet again. I could blame the alcohol but as soon as things began to get heated with Chase, I’d sobered quickly. The nervous buzz flowing through my mind had made it hard to concentrate on anything else.

A car honked its horn. I blinked and pulled forward.

“Quarter Pounder, large fries and vanilla shake, please,” I called into the speaker.

“Will that complete your order?” the static voice returned.

I eyed the salads and had a brief thought of canceling my order and going for something healthier. That lasted approximately three seconds before I realized my body didn’t deserve anything good. It had ignored all signs that screamed stop and continued to become wrapped up in Chase.

“And an apple pie, please,” I added.

“Does that complete your order?”

“Yes, thank you.”

I pulled around, paid for and retrieved my food from the next window, all without making any eye contact. As if my sweater had a huge A embroidered on it.

It wasn’t until I found a spot in the connecting parking lot with no cars around that my phone rang. I looked to the screen on the dashboard and my heart began to thump a rapid beat in my chest. I had to answer it. With sweaty palms, my finger hovered over Answer, and I took a deep breath.

“Hi,” I croaked, then continued with fake happiness lacing my voice. “How’s everything going?”

I heard some movement on the other end before Braydon spoke lowly, “Busy, Naomi, very busy.” He sighed and then asked, “Did you pick up my suits?”

A sudden rush of sadness flowed through me. I reached for the dial and turned the heat off as my body began to feel as if it were on fire. I hadn’t known if I wanted Braydon to call me out on what I’d done. Maybe in some sick way I’d hoped he did. It would make my life easier on what I had planned. I hadn’t known if it was the guilt of what I’d done last night or what my intentions for the future were but the ache was becoming unbearable.

I took a deep breath. “No, not yet. I’m in the parking lot though. As soon as I eat my lunch, I’ll grab—”

Braydon cut me off. “I need you to pick them up and overnight them to me now,” he demanded.

I sat silent for a moment as anger took over and a million questions crowded my mind, but I didn’t know which one to ask first.

“Why?” I went with the question that I thought was best.

“I’m going to be here longer than expected and I only brought a few suits with me. And be a doll and throw some regular clothes in there too.”

“But….” I stumbled before catching my broken heart in my stomach, where my hand automatically went. “How long?”

“A few days, a few weeks, whatever it takes to close this account,” Braydon advised with no emotion in his voice.

“Weeks?” I inquired with a soft stunned voice and pressed my belly to hold the bile back from expelling.

“Yes, Naomi, whatever it takes. I’m trying to better our life,” he clipped.

“Braydon, Thanksgiving is right around the corner. Surely you’ll be back by then, right?” I asked with hope in my voice.

“I don’t know which part of whatever time it takes to close this account you don’t understand,” he spat out.

“Braydon, I haven’t even spoken to you in days and—”

“Naomi, I really don’t have time for one of your talks. I’m getting ready to head into a meeting,” he said with annoyance.

I began to blink quickly so as to not let any tears fall. The hot flush in my cheeks felt like a burning inferno. My eyes stared out into the distance as the white-capped mountains in the far expanse took up my blurry vision.

I remembered the first morning in our new home, sitting on our back porch in the early dawn after a night of decent sex. Actually, that was the last time we’d been intimate. Drinking our first cup of coffee and taking in the picturesque view of the highlands, I’d felt a sense of calm that morning. It’d diminished any and all negative thoughts I’d had about moving to Denver.

But now, looking at the same beautiful landscape, the feeling was no longer there. It was replaced with regret, anger, and most all of all, hurt. My life as I knew it was coming to an end.

“Naomi!” Braydon shouted in my ear.

“Okay, Braydon,” I answered robotically. “I’ll get right on it.” 

“Good. I’ll call later, honey.”

I heard the click that was followed by dead air, then numbly put my phone in my purse and exited the car with emotions bouncing around inside of me. It was a crisp cold day but I didn’t feel one ounce of coolness hit me. My knee-length pink Burberry trench was not the right coat for this time of year, but it matched perfectly with my black pencil skirt, pale pink cashmere sweater, and high-heeled black boots.

The jacket soared at my sides like a cape as I took firm long strides toward the tailor’s shop, the icy breeze brushing across my heated cheeks, giving me the strength I needed for what I was about to do.

“Mrs. McAllister, what a pleasure it is to—”

I held my hand up. “Naomi, please, Mr. Bailor. Call me Naomi. I need Braydon’s suits.”

Mr. Bailor gave me a tentative smile, nodded and moved to the back of the room. When he was out of eyesight I took a deep breath.

You can do this, you can.

Mr. Bailor reentered the room. “Stan, can you please help Mrs., I mean, Naomi to her car.”

I turned to see the young man walking our way. “Stan, not today. I got it. Thank you both. As always, bill Braydon, please.” I began to walk to the door and stopped just as I opened it. “What’s your thoughts on cinnamon pecan scones?”

“Those sound delightful,” Mr. Bailor stressed with a smile.

“Yes, they do,” Stan agreed.

“Perfect. I’ll bring some by this weekend.” I smiled and walked back out into the brisk weather like a woman on a mission.

Because I was.

 

****

 

 

Chase

 

Once I walked out of the coffee shop, I reached for my cell. Pulling it from my back pocket, I thumbed through the contacts and found who I was looking for.

I typed out, How’s your day going?

I clicked the button, slid the phone back into my pocket and walked to my truck. Before I had a chance to open the door, the phone vibrated. I retrieved it and continued to get into my truck. Coffee in the cup holder, truck started, heat going, I opened the new text message.

Naomi: I’m on my way to work.

I frowned at the screen and typed back, I thought you had the day off?

While I waited for Naomi to text me back, I brought up my e-mail and scanned over an opportunity for a new case all the while wondering if I really wanted to occupy any free time I had. If there was any clue, the vibration in my hand had been it. I’d pass on the new case.

Naomi: They need me.

Me: For?

I tapped the button, the screen went black, and I threw it into the empty cup holder. Putting the truck in drive, I pulled out of the spot and maneuvered through the parking lot and out onto the road. About a mile in, I heard the reverberation of my cell against the console. Once I hit a red light, I opened it up.

Naomi: We need to talk.

I instantly closed out the text, brought up her contact info, and hit Call.

“I didn’t mean right now,” Naomi’s soft voice echoed through my truck.

“Well, I’m free right now,” I bit out.

My tires screeched when my foot pressed the pedal down more than I had expected. I knew what the fuck she wanted to talk about, because last night after we both came, she’d ended the call quickly. I’d given her that and the time she needed to process everything. Personally, I didn’t want to talk about it because I wanted a repeat tonight. 

“Are you in your car?” she asked.

“Truck, and yes.”

“I don’t think now’s the right time to talk, Chase,” she whispered.

The tightness in my chest became painful and I huffed, “Why?” There were a few seconds of agonizing silence before I asked softly, “You there?”

“Umm.” She cleared her throat and replied, “Yeah, yeah, I’m here.” She sounded completely flustered.

“Are you okay?” I quickly questioned.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied fast. “Chase, we—”

I cut her off. “You don’t sound fine.”

“Chase, please, listen,” she started softly. “Last night—”

“Let it go, No,” I blurted out. 

Naomi’s voice was firm and louder. “Chase….”

With the fury growing through me, I knew I should turn the truck around. But I didn’t. I pulled into the long curvy stretch of road that would take me to the Landslide. After I made the last bend, I slowed down and pulled into the vast parking lot. 

And my breath caught.

Which never happened.

Never.

Naomi was leaning against the hood of her SUV, her head turned to take in the massive mountain where people were scattered about, some skiing, snowboarding, or watching the activities taking place. One arm curved up holding the phone to her ear, her other wrapped around her waist. The way she was huddled into herself plainly said she was hurting on the inside.

I eased into a spot where I had a clear view of her. Turning the key, I sat there taking in the breathtaking view that was all her.

Fuck.

That skirt and those boots, damn!

“Chase?” she called softly this time.

“Right here,” I whispered, struck by how true that statement was. Then we both went quiet again.

A moment of silence held between us but with so much meaning behind it. I knew she felt something too. But what, though? Desire, regret, guilt, fear, uncertainty, disgust? The possibilities were endless. My mind had been fucked all morning with a ton of emotions I was still trying to figure out. For fuck’s sake, there’d been only a few e-mails, some texts, a handful of phone calls, and fucking outstanding phone sex. 

This wasn’t how I worked.

Pussy was pussy, I fucked it and walked away. I never thought about how the women felt or what they craved or needed to have. I satisfied them and that was good enough. If I wanted to fuck, I fucked. That was it, no meaning behind it.

And she, Naomi, had me wanting to sink my cock inside her every fucking time I saw her. Make her scream my name. Feel her hair in my hand as I pulled it to take her sweet mouth.

“I haven’t even met you,” she whispered.

“I know, baby.”

“Why?” Naomi questioned.

Taking a deep breath, I told her, “Soon.”

I watched her shift as her soft voice huffed over the speakers. “I have to get to work.”

Before I knew what I was doing, I asked, “When do you get off?”

Her oversized purse tucked under one arm, her hand holding the phone close to her ear, she started to make her way toward the building. “Probably around three or four.”

I glanced at the clock on the dash; it read 12:26.

“I’ll be free.”

“I’ll call you,” she whispered.

I didn’t even get another word out as I watched her take the cell from her ear, tap the screen and tuck it in her bag. Then I lost sight of her when she went through the revolving doors.

“Fuck!” I shouted into the cab of my truck and peeled out of the parking spot.