Present Day
Hadley
Monday night I’d gotten a call from Riley. When she called, I’d just happened to be sitting outside utilizing her very private backyard and brand-new lawn chairs. My apartment didn’t have a balcony and sitting outside with my laptop and listening to the city sounds was very relaxing.
She said she’d called to make sure everything was fine with her new perfect house, but I knew she also wanted to talk to me. A lot had happened for my girl in the past five days and I figured she probably needed to decompress a little. So I listened to her give me a minute-by-minute, detailed, thorough play-by-play of her life as a married woman.
I’d never heard her so happy.
I would remind her every time she needed me to of how happy she was in that moment. I was also always going to remind her that I was the one who shouted out her last name to Camden when she was trying to shut him down. I was ultimately responsible for all her happiness.
“And now Cam and I are just relaxing on our veranda, watching the sunset.”
“Sounds horrible,” I deadpanned, then smiled. Riley knew I was smiling too.
“Terrible. Worst honeymoon ever.”
“Hey, I can totally hear you,” Camden shouted in the background. Riley laughed, which only made me smile wider.
“You’re totally coming home pregnant.”
“You shut your mouth,” Riley said, suddenly serious. “Why does everyone think that just because everything else happened so quickly we’re automatically going to have babies fast too?”
“Ugh, because everything else happened so quickly,” I joked. “At this rate I don’t even think you are in control of your reproductive organs. They’re probably spitting out hundreds of eggs because they know they want to have Camden’s baby. Birth control be damned. You’re the .01 percent of women who get pregnant even though they do everything right.”
“I’m hanging up,” she quipped.
“No!” I said through laughter. “I’m kidding. Kind of.”
“Speaking of having people’s babies, how are things with Justin?”
“Justin who?” I replied without a hint of hesitation.
Riley groaned and even though diversion was my aim, there was a not so small part of me that wanted to confess to what had happened in Vegas. Or, at least, what I could remember. Which was very little. Although snippets of the night kept coming to me, returning in a very hazy, jumbled mess.
“Why can’t you see that the guy is crazy for you? I don’t understand why you can’t just give him a chance.”
“A chance at what?” My tone was curt and I realized after the fact that I may have let a little too much emotion show with just one statement.
“A chance to make you happy.”
“I don’t need a man to make me happy,” I said, my voice softer.
“Oh, Hadley, trust me, I know. And I agree, you don’t need a man to make you happy, but there’s nothing wrong with being happy with a man.”
“I’ll go out on a date with Justin when you get pregnant.”
“That’s not fair, Had.”
I shrugged even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “All’s fair in love and war.”
“How would you know?” she grumbled, making me smile.
“As fun as this conversation has gotten, I’m going to let you get back to your miserable honeymoon.”
“Fine. Don’t forget to water the grass, especially in the front. We just moved into the neighborhood and I don’t want to be the people with the dead grass.”
“Please, Riley, give me a little credit. I haven’t forgotten your precious yard.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m sure you’ve got everything under control. Thank you so much for taking care of the house while we’re away.” Suddenly she was yelling, “I would have left you a list of things to do if I’d known I wasn’t returning!”
“Shut your mouth and appreciate your surprise wedding and honeymoon,” Camden yelled back at her.
“Sounds like you’re about to angry fuck each other, so I’m out.”
Riley laughed, but then said, “Okay. I love you, Hads. I miss you too. Next time I go on a honeymoon, please come with me.”
“Gross,” I said at the same time Camden groaned, “Fucking Christ.”
“Good night, Hadley,” Camden yelled while Riley giggled, and I didn’t want to imagine what was happening over in Hawaii, but I was still smiling because the two of them were just too cute.
I stood up and laid my laptop on the chair, then walked to the front of the house to water Riley’s new grass.
The next day was more of the same. Same train ride, although it was minus one near-sexual assault, same coffee, same leisurely walk to my office, same office people making me smile. I’d had almost the same lunch, only I’d opted for a gyro instead of a taco. After my meeting with a designer after lunch I grabbed an Uber and headed over to the appointment I’d set up the day before to meet Alice, and to put together a bid to stage her house.
Once we pulled into the neighborhood I took a few notes about the style and feel of the surrounding houses. I knew just by the address that the house wouldn’t be in newer development, but without doing some digging there wasn’t any way to know much more about the neighborhood, so the drive there was my first real glance, first chance at inspiration.
It was a nice neighborhood, middle class, kids playing in the yards, people walking dogs, a park just down the street. So, immediately, anything extremely modern was out, as was the color black. People looking in this area would be couples with kids already or those looking to start a family. This was not the space for single people or college students. So, as far as I was concerned, I was going to show potential buyers how cozy and warm the house could feel. I was going to showcase every opportunity for storage, and I was going to make the house look like a great place to grow up.
Well, I was going to do all that if the owner decided to hire me.
The car pulled up to the address and I got out, thanking the driver. My eyes swept over the house and it fit right into my vision, perfect for a growing family.
It was a soft yellow color, with white trim and gables on the second floor. There was stonework on the front and a red door. It looked like the typical middle-class American house, which was exactly why I was going to make it stand out from all the other average houses on the market.
I walked to the door and knocked, then smoothed down the front of my skirt and tossed the ends of my long, blond hair over my shoulders. I pasted a professional yet sincere smile on my face and brightened when the door opened.
But once I saw who was standing on the other side of it, the polite smile fell away and was replaced by confusion.
“Hadley?”
Justin was clearly just as confused to see me as I was him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, brows drawn together.
“I’m supposed to be meeting a potential client here. At least, I think it’s here.” I turned around and walked ten feet into the yard and looked back at the house, checking the address. “This is 60125 Cleveland Street, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m supposed to meet an Alice here.”
“Alice is my mother. Wait,” he said, obviously some sort of light bulb going off in his head. “Are you here for the house? Something to do with furniture?”
“I’m a commercial stager,” I said meekly, for some reason wanting him to know I was more than just a girl with furniture.
“What does that mean? What do you do?” he asked, not unkindly.
It suddenly occurred to me that after all this time, after knowing him for months, after sleeping with him, he still had no idea what my job was. It also occurred to me that it wasn’t anyone’s fault but my own. Justin had shown interest in me and my life for quite some time, but I was always shutting him down, brushing his interest off. A little ball of shame started to burn in my belly.
“I furnish houses on the market in order to optimize the seller’s potential for a higher offer.”
He raised one eyebrow at me. I tried hard not to roll my eyes. He was a lawyer. I knew he understood what I’d said.
“I put furniture in houses to make them look nice so buyers will be more tempted to make higher offers.”
“I knew that was a thing, but I’ve never actually met anyone who does it.”
“Well, you’ve met me, so now you can die a complete man.” I let out a sigh and made my way back to the door. “Will your mother be back soon? We had an appointment.”
“Ah, yes. She should be here shortly. She called me frantically because there was an accident on the freeway and she’s stuck in traffic. She didn’t want the house to be empty when you showed up, and I work just downtown, so here I am.” He stepped back and gestured for me to go in.
As soon as I stepped through the threshold my work brain turned on. I was looking at window placement, which direction they faced, molding, floorplan, wall color—so many things. As I suspected, the house looked incredibly lived-in. Not rundown or shabby, but loved. Worn. I could see the wear on the floorboard on the staircase from years of people going up and down. Gouges in the drywall in the dining room from chairs scooting back too quickly, patched and painted over.
“You seriously look like you’re doing math in your head,” Justin said with a laugh, effectively pulling me out of my house haze.
“Oh, uh, sorry. It’s just what happens when I walk into a house.”
“What? What happens?” A slow smile spread across his face and it made my breath go shallow.
“I just automatically start imagining what would look best, how I could show off the best parts of the house with furniture and accessories.”
“Would you like a tour?”
“Actually, I usually manage fine on my own, if you don’t mind.” My request to be left alone must have caught him off guard because I watched his face register surprise and then relent.
“By all means.” He waved his arm out, effectively allowing me access to the house on my own.
I took a few more steps into the house and heard him close the door behind me. At the sound I realized we were once again alone together. My skin tingled with awareness, thinking back to the last time we were by ourselves. Well, thinking back to what I could remember about it. I remembered mostly lights. Lights from the buildings, lights from the fountains, lights from behind my eyes as he kissed me on the street.
Funny thing about Vegas—people don’t care if you make out on the street. It’s almost expected, I guess. In Portland, if you stopped and kissed like Justin and I had—all hands a mouths and tongues—people would angrily tell you to get a room. In Vegas, they just walk around you, or inquire as to how much you charge for services.
I walked into the kitchen and placed my purse on the counter, then pulled out my legal pad, pen, a tape measure, and my phone. The first step would be to walk through the house and take photos. I did this all while pretending I wasn’t acutely aware of Justin in the house. As I took pictures of the family room I could hear him walking behind me. His footsteps stopped and I imagined him behind me, his gaze locked on my backside, and my skin heated.
“So, when is your mother supposed to get here?” I asked as I snapped pictures of the fireplace and mantel.
“She didn’t say really, just as soon as she could, I imagine.”
I turned back to look at him and sure enough, caught his gaze on my ass.
“Do you mind if I go upstairs?”
“Be my guest,” he said with a smile.
Why in the world was he being so nice to me? Why was he always so nice to me? I’d never been particularly nice to him, except maybe when drunk out of my mind, and I’d left him high and dry more than once. He was a glutton for punishment, obviously. But what did that make me? I was just as bad as he was, constantly pushing him away only all the while secretly hoping he wasn’t gone for long.
I’d push and push, try my hardest to finally give him that last shove to push him over the edge, give him enough of a reason to walk away, to forget about me. But just when I was sure I’d done it, I panicked, hoping he’d still find his way back to wanting me.
I walked up the stairs, taking pictures as I went. Once I was about halfway up, I heard his shoes on the stairs behind me and I couldn’t help the grin that came over my mouth.
“You’ll find any way to look at my ass, won’t you?” I asked, a sultry lilt to my voice.
He let out a low laugh from behind me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I suddenly imagined him wrapping his arms around my waist, bending me over, lifting my skirt, and taking me—right on the stairs.
“Now that I know what it looks like naked, you’d be hard-pressed to keep my eyes away.”
Ah, so we weren’t actually pretending Vegas didn’t happen. Darn. I wanted to live in denial forever.
I turned around, still on the stairs, just in time for him to stop before he ran into me, his face level with mine.
He had these blue eyes that were like cornflower, so blue they almost looked a little purple near the pupil. In all the times I’d looked at him, I’d never paid too much attention to his eyes. Tried to avoid them actually. If I were looking into his eyes, then he was probably looking into mine, and I couldn’t control what he saw there.
“How can you remember anything from Vegas after the fountain? We were three sheets to the wind, maybe even four or five, and everything was a drunken blur.”
I watched as something passed over his eyes, an emotion—raw and uncaged—but he reined it in quickly before I could identify it clearly. Instead, the side of his lip quirked up and the sight of it made my thighs press together. The bastard.
In Vegas, after the wedding, he’d been ruffled. Set loose. Unwound. In front of me now, though, he was still together—lawyer Justin—and I wondered how much prodding it would take to get him to that place where he was unrestrained. I wanted to run my fingers through his perfectly styled hair, make it messy, but I knew if I touched him it would give him reason to touch me too. And I didn’t want that. Well, in truth, I did want that, but I couldn’t let it happen. Again.
A wave of regret washed over me knowing that I’d been with Justin, spent a naked night with him, and I could barely remember it. I found myself wanting to remember everything. Every last detail. Was it rough? Quick? Did I come?
I laughed.
Of course I came. Look at him.
My belly quivered and my lip found its way between my teeth.
“I remember a lot, actually,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.
My breath caught in my throat, an audible gasp escaping me.
“You do?” I managed to whisper.
“Most of the night, I think. There are a few pieces that are, well, less than clear. But I remember all the important parts.” His gaze was simply burning into me, branding me.
A ripple of arousal soared through me, knowing he was thinking about us together. He leaned closer to me, just a fraction of an inch, an invitation, one I was just spellbound enough to accept had the front door not opened and then slammed shut.
We flew apart, the spell broken, my chest heaving from the breath I’d been holding.
“Justin?” I heard a woman call out, presumably his mother.
“Upstairs, Mom,” he answered, still holding my gaze.
After only a moment, his mother appeared at the bottom of the stairs. My eyes were drawn to her, my professional persona taking over, and I gave her a smile over Justin’s shoulder.
“Oh, goodness,” she said, coming up the stairs. “I’m so sorry I’m late. There was some lunatic on the freeway who thought the middle lane was a good place to change his tire.”
Justin put a hand on my shoulder, shifting me to the side slightly, then stepped past me. I felt the loss of his closeness and a tiny voice in my head wondered when and if we’d be that close again anytime soon.
“It’s totally fine, and it’s nice to meet you.” I held my hand out as she approached me on the staircase. “I’m Hadley.”
“Alice Hunter,” she said, shaking my hand, a little out of breath.
I moved up the stairs and turned back to her.
“Do you mind if I take some photos up here?”
“Oh, no, go right ahead.”
I continued into the first bedroom I came to, noticed the south-facing window, and started snapping photos, trying to ignore the incessant awareness of Justin. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him. He radiated heat like a lamp. He was the sun and I fought the urge to revolve around him.
“Thanks for helping out,” I heard Alice say to Justin.
“No problem, Mom. I was in the area.” He spoke to her with obvious affection in his voice.
“You were not,” she replied, laughing.
“Not far. Where’s Dad?”
“Golfing. Where else?”
“I guess it is nice outside. That makes sense. Everything okay at the new house? Do you need me to come by this weekend to help with anything?”
“I’m sure your father would appreciate that. I’ll feed you dinner.”
I needed him to stop being a good son immediately.
“Sounds great,” he replied.
I tried my hardest to push their voices out of my head, to ignore them, to pretend as though they weren’t there. Usually I talked up potential clients, but I was quiet. I couldn’t operate under Justin’s gaze.
After I’d photographed the entire top floor I turned back to Alice.
“If it’s okay with you I’ll just take some measurements now.”
“Sure, anything you need,” she replied sweetly.
“Anything I can do to help?” Justin asked.
“It’s fine. I do it alone all the time,” I said, waving him away, trying to use the upbeat tone I employed whenever clients tried to help.
“Just because you usually do it alone doesn’t mean you always have to,” he said, gaze locked on mine.
“Don’t mind him, he’s just trying to be helpful. His father and I raised him to never stand by when he could be helping.”
“That’s a good quality to have,” I said with a smile for Alice. “Unfortunately, I can’t let clients help. Insurance issues. Surely you understand.”
“Oh, of course,” she said, almost sounding apologetic for pushing the issue.
I wasn’t trying to be rude, but the last thing I needed was a reason to like Justin. I smiled at her and turned to make my way down the stairs.
“What about friends?” His deep voice halted me halfway down the stairs, but just for a moment.
I continued to the bottom. “Sorry, not even friends can help.”
“Do you two know each other?” Alice chimed in.
I wasn’t about to answer the question, mainly because I had no idea how to respond.
“Hadley is Camden’s wife’s best friend.”
“Oh, what a small world,” she cried happily. “I had no idea.”
“It was quite a surprise,” I said tightly, just before taking the tape measure out of my bag.
I had measuring down to a science and could get measurements on a house this size in just a few minutes. Most of the time I thought I could even guess with pretty decent accuracy. It was a strange skill to have, but after a few years of measuring rooms and furniture, the ability developed naturally.
Pencil behind my ear, legal pad tucked under my arm, I walked to the edge of the living room and placed the end of the tape measure against the wall at the floor, tucked it in with the toe of my high heel, then walked backward until I hit the wall. Once I had an accurate measurement, I noted it on the paper, then started the process again.
“Why don’t you use a laser distance measurer?” Justin asked after a few moments, pulling me out of my zone.
“Huh?”
“A digital tape measure, with a laser? It would save you a lot of time.”
Honestly, I had no idea what he was talking about. I tried to stay out of home improvement stores and my tape measure worked just fine.
“I like to be hands-on.” I didn’t realize the double-meaning of my words until they’d already been spoken, so when the words come out of my mouth, well, it was hard to keep a straight face. It was also hard not to blush. And I didn’t ever blush. It wasn’t difficult, however, to see the way Justin’s eyes darkened at my double entendre.
“You know,” he replied, his voice even darker than before, “I’m starting to remember that about you.”
Oh shit.
I pulled out my pad of paper and pretended as though I had lots of notes I needed to write down at that exact moment.
I continued to take measurements while Justin and his mother exchanged pleasant conversation. I tried not to eavesdrop, but there was no ignoring the sweet tone he used with his mother, or the doting way she managed to ask him if he was eating enough fiber.
Once I was finished I started packing up my things, then turned back to Alice.
“So, the house is in good shape, aesthetics wise. I don’t think you need to do anything else as far as painting or carpeting. It looks like you’ve got those bases covered already. There are a few different options I can offer to help market your house to the most competitive buyers.” My eyes flitted to Justin, who was watching me intently. Suddenly my nerves became jostled, knowing he was listening to my sales pitch. Did he think my job was superfluous? Did he think I was ridiculous, making people pay me to decorate their house temporarily? Unlike with anyone else in my entire life, it mattered to me what he thought. But only for a moment because I squashed that shit down. I cleared my throat and pushed my shoulders back a little, making myself stand up straighter. Luckily, Alice didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.
“I have three different tiers of service, all of which I will outline in the bid I will email to you within twenty-four hours.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Alice replied. “I’ll go over it with my husband and let you know.”
I smiled. “Excellent.”
“Let me walk you out,” Justin said after being quiet for a few moments. His voice washed over me, making me shiver.
I couldn’t exactly turn him down without coming off as rude in front of his mother—my potential client—so I just gave him a nod and then reached out to shake Alice’s hand. “Thank you for your time today. You’ll be hearing from me shortly.”
“Thank you, Hadley. Have a great rest of your day.”
I smiled and grabbed my bag and headed toward the front door. I nearly tripped over my own feet when the warmth of Justin’s hand appeared at the small of my back. The gentle pressure he put there, guiding me toward the door, made my breath halt and my heart speed. Damn him.
He stepped ahead of me just slightly, his hand never leaving my back, and opened the door for me, sunshine flooding in, and followed me outside. I took a few steps away from the front door and faced him, preparing to say goodbye, but not knowing how. What was the protocol? A handshake seemed too impersonal—he’d been inside of me just days prior. But I really didn’t want to hug him, didn’t want to feel his body pressed up against mine or his arms wrap around me and hold me close. No, I wanted none of that. Handshake it was.
“It was good to see you again. Your mother is lovely. I’ll see you around,” I said, holding a firm hand out toward him.
His gaze sank down to my hand and then the side of his mouth quirked up in a smirk, but he didn’t take my offered hand.
“Where’s your car, Hadley?”
“My what?” What a weird question. It totally caught me off guard.
“Your car? How are you getting home?”
“I sold my car a few months ago. I hardly ever used the thing. I’m taking an Uber back to work.”
It was then he took my hand, but not to shake it. He wrapped his fingers around my palm and tugged me toward his SUV.
“I’ll drive you.”
“Justin, no, it’s fine. Uber is fine.”
“Uber is not fine, Hadley. Not when I’m here, fully capable of taking you wherever you need to go.”
If only.
“I take Uber all the time.”
“Again, not when I’m around.”
He pulled the door to his SUV open and stared at me, waiting.
I let out a purposefully huge sigh, exaggerating my level of annoyance. I wanted him to think he was irritating me. And he was, but not as much as I wanted him to believe. And, if I were being truthful, he wasn’t irritating me, but my stupid reaction to his thoughtfulness was incredibly annoying. The fact that part of me wanted to go with him, to let him take care of me in that way, was stupidly frustrating.
“Fine,” I said with a groan and walked to his SUV, climbing in, trying to ignore the heat of his gaze on my ass as I lifted myself onto the seat.
He shut the door with a smirk and walked around the front of the vehicle, climbing in and winking at me. Winking!
“Where to?”
I gave him the address to my office building, but said nothing more. We were both quiet for a few minutes, until he got onto the freeway.
“It’s nearly five o’clock. When are you finished for the day?” he asked as he effortlessly nestled his giant rig in the crazy traffic that was Portland during rush hour.
I sighed. It would take at least twice as long to get back to the office and I was stuck in his car with him.
“I’m done for the day. The meeting with your mom was my last appointment.”
“So why am I taking you back to your office?”
“It’s neutral.”
“Neutral?”
“Yeah, neutral. Safe. Placid.”
I didn’t look his way, but he let out a breath and in my peripheral I could see him shaking his head. He was quiet for a moment more, then broke the silence again.
“Let me take you to dinner.”
“Justin—” I began, but he interrupted me.
“Don’t say no, Hadley. Don’t turn me down just because you think that’s what you’re supposed to do. Don’t shut me out simply because I got close once. Just, let me take you to dinner.”
“It’s too early for dinner. It’s still the afternoon.” My argument was weak. I knew that. I also knew I didn’t have a good reason to say no, mainly because I didn’t want to say no. Most of me wanted to say yes.
“Happy hour, then. We’ll get a drink. Some finger food. Talk.”
Talking. I knew there was a catch.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Justin.”
“Bullshit.”
“Have you ever had a one-night stand? Did no one explain the rules to you? You spend one night together and then you part ways. This is where we say goodbye.”
His hands gripped the steering wheel with intense strength, his knuckles turning white.
“If there’s nothing at stake for you, nothing you’re trying to run from, then one more evening shouldn’t give you a reason to pause, Hadley. All I’m asking for is one drink.”
Fuck. He had me there. I either continued to deny him, giving him reason to believe there was more to us than just one night, or I gave in and tried my damnedest to hold on to my heart for just a while longer. I silently shushed the little voice that told me I’d already lost my heart long ago.
“Fine. One drink.”