Claim 2: Volume Two (2 page)

Chapter Three

Loren

“Hello again, Mr. Brewer.  I’d like to introduce you to the best advertising team in the industry, Loren Tena and Jordan Newport,” Mr. Fletcher introduces us to Joel, each of us extending our hands to exchange pleasantries.

When Joel’s hand connects with him, he squeezes playfully and subtly winks.  “It’s wonderful to meet you Mr. Newport and great to see you again Loren.”  My cheeks flush as my boss and husband gawk at mine and Joel’s exchange, dumbfounded expressions on their faces.

“You as well, Joel.  Please, have a seat,” I wave my hand at the open chair to my left where Joel sets down his briefcase and lowers himself onto the chair. 

“As you all are aware, my company will be acquiring a rather large piece of a social media website that we believe we can bring into the next generation.  What used to be a popular site for adults and teens alike has dwindled down to nearly nothing.  We want to change that and that’s why we’re here.  Destined Software for all intents and purposes is my child—born and raised by myself and a few close colleagues’- into the empire it is today.”  Joel continues on, giving exact examples as to what he’s looking for from myself and Jordan.  I take extensive notes while Jordan engages in conversations I need a dictionary to understand.

After nearly an hour and what seems to be an entire notebook of plans and figures, Joel packs up his briefcase and moves toward the door.  “Can I speak with you for a moment, Ms. Tena?” he asks and without a second thought, I follow him to the lobby and into the elevator.

“I wish you would have told me that you owned a software company,” I mutter, immediately wishing I could take it back, but it doesn’t seem to phase him.

“I apologize, Loren, but as you can imagine once people know what I do for a living, start Googling and end up knowing what I’m worth, finding a partner that’s in it for the right reasons can be pretty difficult.”

“But, still.  You could have said something.”

“I told you who I was.  Who I really am.  I play D&D, I love computer games, I live with my grandmother, granted it’s the house I purchased for her to live in and I’m much more reliable and trustworthy than a live-in caretaker and I really do hate shopping with her.  We go to the store for apples and end up being out the entire day.  It’s draining.  You couldn’t see past that.  You judged me based on appearances.  It’s perfectly fine, though.  I understand.”

Feeling like the biggest jackass to walk the face of the earth, I continue with Joel until we’ve reached the main entrance and I escort him to his waiting car.  “I really am sorry.  Is this going to be a problem?  Me working on your campaign?”

“Not at all.  I think it will be good.  From everything I’ve read about your company, you truly are the best of the best and that’s what I want for this campaign.  We don’t have to disclose any of this to anyone, frankly, it’s our business and that’s how it should stay.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Joel pulls me in for a quick hug, excuses himself and takes off down the road.  On the ride back upstairs, I take the few moments to reflect on what a shallow dick I’ve truly been and make a vow to not be that person anymore.  Joel was right.  I judged him before I knew him.  I could be dating a rich and powerful man, but instead I’m married to my co-worker and boss' stepson and dreaming about a sexy cowboy who could be my perfect match.

Better yet, it’s probably a good thing that I’m not dating Joel.  I need this campaign to go smoothly in order for Mr. Fletcher to know deep in his gut that I should take over this company when he retires.  All of that’s going to be even harder now that Jordan’s back.  Patrick may not be his biological father, but I know well enough that he’s his dad.  And that’s more important than any bloodline you may come from.

*****

I end up staying at the office well into the evening and by the time I leave it’s already dark outside.  The drive home is eerily quiet as I try to piece together Jordan’s strange actions at the office and how to tell Nolan.  Finally my ringing phone breaks the silence.

“Hey,” I answer.

“Now that you’re not avoiding me anymore, wanna tell me why Norah ran into Jordan today?  Is he back?” Cleo asks

“Oh, he’s back, alright.  He came by Friday night after my date with Nolan and he was at the office today working on a new campaign with me.”

“Don’t fall back into it, Lo.  You’re smarter than that.”  I know she’s just doing her best friend duties, but I’m not stupid.  I’m also not naive.  I loved Jordan.  More than I’d ever loved anyone else.  Those feelings … I was able to shove them aside because he wasn’t in my face.  I didn’t have to think about him.  Now that he’s here, those familiar feelings are rising to the surface.  I’m just not sure if it’s out of shock, having not seen him in so long, or if they’re real.  That’s my biggest worry. 

What if everything I felt for Jordan a year ago still remains?  How can I feel that way for him and still want to see where things go with Nolan?  A few weeks ago I was bitching because I didn’t have even one suitable prospect, now I’m in a fucked up situation with two men.  One I hate just as much as I love, the other … I’m not sure, but I’m not ready to count him out.

“I just want you to be smart about this,” she reiterates and continues rambling on about something to do with Kyle.  Half listening, I walk into the house, tossing my jacket and bag on the dining room table and making a beeline for the bottle of wine I know I have chilling in the fridge.

Voicing the appropriate “oh yeah” or “no way” and an occasional “uh huh” I pour a large glass of red, kick off my heels and decide a bath is the only way I’m going to be able to clear my head enough to really think. 

“Cleo, let me call you back after I take a bath.  I just need a break from the day.  Between work and everything else, I just need to relax a little.”

Without an argument, Cleo disconnects her end of the line and I step into the bathroom, running the water as hot as my body can stand.  Setting my glass on the vanity, I pull my hair high on my head and clean my face of the day’s makeup.  I unzip and let my skirt pool at my feet, quickly picking it up and hanging it on the hook on the back of the door.   Securing my phone to the dock on the counter, I turn on my favorite playlist and let the music fill the room as I unbutton my blouse and dance my way to the bedroom.

Just before I reach the bedroom, a faint knock on the front door stills my movement.  I swear if Jordan is here to play games, I’m going to flip.  After making me wait a year to even lay eyes on him, I’m sure he can give me at least a few days to decide how to proceed.

“What do you want?” I ask, exasperated as I pull open the door, holding my blouse closed so I’m not fully exposed.

Nolan’s confused blue eyes stare back at me, scanning my body from top to bottom, nearly dropping the paper bag in his arms.  “I’m sorry.  I should have called,” he mutters, swallowing quickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat behind the day or two scruff he’s sporting.

“No.  I thought you were someone else.”

“I tried calling you over the weekend, but you didn’t answer.  Figured you must not be feeling well and I did promise you another date, so I brought the date to you,” he says, his dimples prominent as he smiles, raising the bag to eye level.

“That was super sweet of you.  Come on in, just give me a few minutes, I was getting ready to take a bath.  Do you mind waiting?”  I’m sure he’s thinking this is some weird innuendo, but I really do need that bath, especially if I’m going to hang out with him tonight.  I’m too tightly wound to enjoy myself or be a decent host.

“I got nothin’ but time.  Just point me in the direction of the kitchen and the TV, I’ll be set for a while.  That’s if you don’t mind me watching the game?”

“Who’s playing?”

“Ravens and Saints.”

“Should be a good game then.  Have at it.  There’s beer in the fridge, too.”  Showing him into the kitchen, I leave him on his own while I rush back to the bathroom, quickly stopping in the laundry room to grab a pair of yoga pants and my favorite Ravens tee shirt.  I mean, seriously, the dude’s just laid eyes on me without a stitch of makeup, my hair piled on top of my head in some sort of messy bun and half naked, I highly doubt he’s going to mind a more relaxed look when I emerge from hopefully a peaceful bath.

*****

“What’s the score?” I ask, rounding the corner and heading for another glass of wine.

“Ten three, Ravens,” he responds, not taking his eyes off the screen.  Pouring another large glass, I pad into the living room and take the spot next to him on the couch.  Surveying the coffee table, my mouth waters at the sight of sweet and sour chicken and shrimp fried rice.  It’s totally not something I should be eating if I were sick, but since the only thing wrong with me is my screwed up love life, I’ll be perfectly fine devouring this Chinese heaven.

We sit together in silence, enjoying the game, eating a nice dinner.  After I set my empty plate on the table in front of us, I lean back into the cushions and pull my feet up underneath me.  Nolan wastes no time dragging them into his lap and gently starts massaging each foot one at a time, paying extra attention to the arch.  I don’t care if he’s done this a million times with a million different women, the fact that he knows exactly where my feet ache the most is proof that not all men are morons.  Some actually pay attention and for that I’m thankful.

The Ravens end up taking away the win and instead of getting up to leave, Nolan reaches for the remote and begins scrolling through the movie channels.  “You wanna pick?”

Caught off guard, I’m unable to answer right away.  “Go ahead,” I finally mutter, trying to move my legs, he resists at first, but then gives in.  Sitting straight, extending my feet onto the coffee table, my position closely resembles his.  Nolan’s arm drapes across the back of the sofa and without a second thought, I cuddle into his side as he selects a channel and a movie I’ve never seen plays across the screen.

I’m listening to the movie, staring off into the distance, but completely comfortable in Nolan’s arms.  This is how it should be.  No pretenses, no worrying about anything other than what’s going on in this exact moment.  I’ve been stressing over Jordan for what?  He left me.  I grieved.  I might still have feelings for him, but wouldn’t it be worse if I didn’t?  If I felt absolutely nothing for him after going as far as marrying him? 

“This is nice,” I whisper, redirecting my attention to the TV and Nolan innocently kisses the top of my head.  Then I notice what’s playing on the screen as my eyes focus—there are most certainly people getting nasty.  Oh my gosh.  I’m telling him that this is nice as we basically watch these naked actors doing their thing.  I feel my cheeks heat immediately. 

Quickly raising my head, his eyes meet mine and I try to back pedal.  “I mean hanging out with you.  That’s nice.  This,” I point at the TV, “I wasn’t talking about that.  Sure, that’s nice too, but I really meant that just being with you.  Oh God, I’m making it worse aren’t I?”

I try to bury my head in his chest, but his thumb forces my head up.  I want to talk, but every time I open my mouth, nothing comes out.  Before I can make the situation any more awkward, Nolan is the one to recover, placing his soft lips over mine and gently kissing me.

“I knew what you meant,” he whispers between kisses.  “You’re adorable.” 

No, wait.  I don’t want to be adorable.  I want to be sexy … alluring … desired.  Feeling the overwhelming need to show him exactly how adorable I am not, I reposition my body and grab onto his shirt.  Falling back onto the cushions, I pull him so he’s lying on top of me.  His kisses don’t stop, not even for a second.

Wanting more than I’m getting, I try to reach the hem of my shirt to take it off, but he stops me and that’s when the kisses cease.  “There’s no rush, Loren.  We’ve got nothing but time.”  Slowly dragging his lips from mine to my neck, he pays special attention to the sensitive place between my collar bone and my neck.  “Our first time together won’t be after a night of football and Chinese food.  It’ll be something you’ll remember for the rest of your life.”

And I thought I couldn’t want him anymore than I did a few seconds ago.  It’s a necessity now.  I need him.  “Oh, I’ll remember this, don’t you worry.  Tonight was perfect.”

“You just wait.  I’ll show you what perfect really is, and this will seem like nothing.”  Feeling the cool air between our bodies, I grab onto his shirt to hold him in place, but he’s far too strong for me.  Sitting up, he reaches down and grabs his boots, sliding his feet inside.

“You don’t have to leave,” I say, coming out more as a whine.

“Yeah, I do.  If I don’t go now, I’ll go against everything I think is right.  You’re so damn sexy right now and I need to get to work on our perfect date.”

How can I argue with that?  That’s right.  I can’t. 

Walking him to the door, he briefly kisses me again, my knees threatening to buckle.  His desire filled pools stare down at me giving me the butterflies I always get when he looks at me.

“Lock up tight,” he yells as he reaches his truck. 

Following his clear directions, I shut the door and turn both locks.  Falling back onto the couch, I prop my feet back up on the coffee table, softly touching my swollen lips and smiling like I just hit the lottery.

“Looks like my competition is stronger than I thought,” Jordan says, rounding the corner from my bedroom, startling me.  However, the look on his face breaks my heart more than when he left me.