Chapter 11
Note to self: Buy batteries.
Were my feet even on the ground? I heard the clicking of my heels on the tiled flooring, but I swear, I couldn’t feel them. Everything about last night replayed over and over in my thoughts. First, bowling. I mean, of all the sports, that was what he liked? Then, Cade. Truth be told, he looked great. And just like I remembered, a ball buster.
Adam would be coming home soon, and by Cade’s reaction, I was concerned. Once again¸ I wanted to call Adam and let him know I was seeing his friend. Then again, maybe it was no big deal.
But it was the drive home that really commandeered my memory. Watching Noah’s knuckles whiten as his hands gripped the wheel when I mentioned Cade confused me. Was he jealous? My lips curled upward at the thought of it.
Before Noah, I never craved a man’s lips on mine or wished him to plunge his fingers in my hair and pull me in for a toe-curling kiss. Then there was sex. We’d crossed that line, and it was the best set of orgasms I’d ever received.
Of course, I put up the barrier and made the proclamation that we were just friends. Maybe I was being an idiot. No . . . I was an idiot. Would it be that horrible to date Noah? I sighed, resigned to the fact that work was what needed my attention.
Sadly, my inbox wasn’t flooded with requests. At this rate, I’d be living month to month, something I didn’t want to do. It scared me. I saved up a bit of money and had my trust fund, but promised myself I wouldn’t touch it. Was I stubborn? Yes.
Rochelle knocked on my door. “Margo, your mom is on line one.”
That was weird; why didn’t she call my cell phone? Shit. I forgot to charge it. “Thank you, Rochelle.”
I exhaled, picked up the receiver, and pushed the button next to the flashing light. “Hi, Mom. How are you?”
“Oh, sweetheart. It’s so great to hear your voice. You know, you could call or come over occasionally.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right. I’ve been busy. How are you? How’s Dad?”
“He’s fine, we’re both fine. Just missing our kids, that’s all. Your brother will be back soon. I’d like the family to get together.”
I nodded—not that she could see me. “Sounds good.”
“So, tell me, how’s work going? Is business good?” My mom was my biggest supporter, even though she generally took my father’s side concerning the family business.
“It’s great, thank you. Paris taught me a lot, and I’m applying it here in the city. We should go shopping one day.” I knew that would make her happy. When I was a little girl, she’d dress me up in all these frilly dresses. The problem was that I’d rather wear a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. But, I was like her living doll that she liked to play dress-up with.
“Oh, that would be lovely. Chanel’s fall line is coming out. But, I’m sure you know that. Let’s do it. Have a ladies’ day out.”
“Sounds good, Mom, just let me know the details.”
“Will do, sweetie.” I heard a deep voice in the background, and my mom whispered that she was talking to me. “Dad says hi. I need to run. I can’t wait to see you. Love you!”
Before I could say anymore the phone went silent. “Love you, too, Mom.”
Haley and I decided to meet for dinner. Even though we chatted, it wasn’t the same as having her as a roommate. “So, how was your night?” She knew Noah had taken me out, just not the details. A bi-product of not living together.
“Fun, we went bowling.”
She smiled. “I know.”
My heart hammered in my chest. How did she know? “What do you mean you know?”
Her head bobbed as she chewed her burger. “I went to the apartment to get some things, I saw your shirt in the basket of laundry in the hallway.” She laughed. “I love that it has Sally written on it. How adorable is he?”
“Very.” I crossed my legs under the table. My body started to crave him. My mind was consumed with him. My heart raced at the thought of him. Shit. I was screwed.
“Did you kick his ass?”
“That I did.”
She tsk’d. “You should never beat a man at a sport. It makes them feel inferior. They need to be good at everything.”
“Whatever. Not happening. I don’t think it put a dent in his ego. Actually, he seemed very happy and weirdly proud of me.”
“Hmm . . . really?” Haley dabbed the corners of her lips with her napkin. “Want to know what I think?”
“No.”
“Too bad. I think he’s falling for you.” My eyes widened at her declaration. “No, scratch that. I think he’s fallen for you.” She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table. “Face it, you landed one of New York’s finest. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“You just want everyone to be blissfully happy like you.” She shrugged. “I’m fine with the way things are.”
“You’re okay with no sex?”
“Yes, I am.” Mostly. I think.
“If you say so.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Haley smiled. “I’m not. Would you like to know what else I think?”
“Nope.”
She laughed. “Too bad. I think you’ve fallen for him, too. You don’t see the way your face lights up at the mere mention of his name, or how you looked that morning after you slept with him. Why won’t you give in to that? Before you say it’s because of the past, fuck the past. Really, who cares what happened years ago? This is now, Margo. Do yourself a favor and embrace today.”
Back in my bed, I thought of everything Haley had said. It wasn’t much different from what I was feeling. Maybe this whole “friends” thing was a mistake. One thing I did know was that I needed to thank him for last night.
Me: Hi. You busy?
Hardheaded: Just lying in bed, you?
My hand drifted over my breasts. What was I doing?
Me: I’m in bed, too. Thank you for last night. I had fun.
Hardheaded: You’re welcome. How was your day?
Me: Good. Yours?
Hardheaded: Better now.
Me: Didn’t you have a good day at the office?
Hardheaded: It was the usual. I closed a few deals, made some new ones.
Me: Sounds like it was profitable.
Hardheaded: It was.
Me: I’m glad. I should get some sleep.
Hardheaded: I wish I was there.
Me: You do?
Hardheaded: Yeah, I do. There’s something I want.
Me: What?
Hardheaded: To give you another orgasm. You’re beautiful when you come, did you know that?
How in the hell would I know that?
Me: Can’t say that I did.
Hardheaded: One day soon, I’m going to have you again.
I glanced over at my nightstand, knowing I could grab my toy, Wendell the Wonder Wand, and get off to this text—so I did. The purple toy felt heavy in my hand. I ran it down my torso until it was between my legs. My breathing labored as I positioned it under the panel of my panties right where I wanted it.
Hardheaded: Margo?
Using my free hand, I typed out a text.
Me: I’m here. Tired. Going to sleep now.
Fine, I lied. What I really needed was a bit of alone time with Wendell and the memory of Noah.
Hardheaded: I meant what I said. One day soon, I’m going to make you come harder and longer than you ever have. For now, I’ll think of you. Good night, Sally.
Me: Sweet dreams, Harry.
I set the phone down next to me on the mattress, just in case I needed some inspiration. But, when I pressed the little white button, nothing happened. You have got to be kidding me. I tried once more and it came to life and then died. Great. No man and a dead vibrator. Knowing I didn’t have any batteries, I tossed it in the drawer, charged my phone, rolled over, and went to sleep.
Thanks to our fun night bowling, each one that followed paled in comparison. Rochelle, my glorified assistant with a degree in marketing, and I plotted out next quarter’s strategies. She had great ideas and I planned to implement them. Originally, my focus was on the socialites and boutiques, but Rochelle suggested we target the male consumer. This all made sense, since most men hated to shop, both for themselves and for their significant others.
We made a list of small shops and designers who specialized in men’s clothing. It was a niche market, so we needed to make sure we hit it with a bang. Rochelle was lining up appointments for me when my office line rang.
“Exquisitely Yours, this is Margo.”
“Well, that’s quite a revelation. Do you tell every man who calls this number that you’re his?”
“Hi, Noah.”
“Hi. How are you?”
“I’m good. You know, living the dream.” Living the dream? What the hell was I saying?
He chuckled. “Which dream would that be? I have several that include you; want to swap stories?”
“No.” Even though I was taken aback at his dream admission, I wasn’t ready to let him know how many starring roles he had when I went to sleep or the fact that I had tried to get off after our texting session the other night. Note to self: get batteries!
“Figured you’d say that. So, I’m calling because I wanted to know if you’d like to have a drink with me tomorrow night. I can have Arthur pick you up. I’d do it myself, but I have an appointment across town, and I wouldn’t get to your place until later.”
“Sure, I’d love to meet you, but you don’t need to send Arthur. I can take a cab.”
“I’ll send a car. Is five o’clock okay?”
“Yes, that’s fine, but a car isn’t necessary.”
“Can you not argue with me, just once?”
“Fine.”
“Good girl.”
“Bye, Noah.”
Before I could hang up, he said, “Margo?”
“Yes?”
“I can’t wait to take you in my arms, slide my hand up your back until I get to the nape of your neck . . .” I uncrossed my legs and then crossed them again in the opposite direction. “I’m going to press my lips to the soft skin just below your ear, then your cheek, forehead, other cheek, and finally your mouth. I’ve been dying to taste you again. Trust me, tomorrow night, I’m going to.”
My breathing faltered. I didn’t even care that he could hear it over the phone. In a soft breath, I said, “See you tomorrow.”