Chosen Heart (36 page)

Alex’s confidence has waned as he
sits silent.  I know how hard it is, as I watch him try and formulate the
right words.  I’ve been searching for the right thing to say for far too
long.  Running his hand through his hair, he rests his palm on the back of
his neck before meeting my gaze, returning my smile.  “Can we start
over?”  He pauses, and because I want nothing more than to have a second
chance with him, I nod.  Not out of desperation, but out of hope.

Taking a deep breath, “Hi,
Alexander James; and you are?”  He extends his hand in a friendly
gesture.  A gesture showing a willingness to give us the beginning we
never had.  I notice his knuckles are bandaged, which pangs my heart to no
end.  But, because we are trying not to focus on the mistakes of our past,
I push forward.

Taking his hand in mine, the
sensation of his touch makes my body tremble.  He’s being adorable and
this game, well, I like this little game we’ve got going on right now. 
I
wonder how far my mind, and my body, can take this.  I like playful Alex,
much, much more than I like angry or despondent, Alex.
  “Elyssa
Hart.  Nice to meet you.”

“So, Elyssa…I notice you aren’t
wearing a wedding ring.  No husband?” 
Clever segue, Alex. 

“Nope…no husband,” I blush as my
hand remains in his, our shake lasting a little longer than it should in a room
littered with people.

“Boyfriend?”  His left brow
shoots up flirtatiously as he smiles, leaning into the table, resting his head
on his hand.  Copying his gesture I turn sideways, resting my head on my
palm, placing my elbow on the table.  A giggle bubbles from my chest as I
hide my face in my hands.  Not waiting for my answer, Alex whispers beside
me, causing my breath to hitch as I look up from my hands.  “You look...”
his eyes search by body for the right word.

“So do you, Alex.”  He
always does, though.  Dressed to the tens, Alex is wearing his three piece
black suit.  His blood red tie stands out against his stark white
shirt.  Deciding to push the limits, I unleash the beast.  Crossing
my legs, my skirt lifts, revealing my garter.  Alex exhales as he eyes my
stems from garter to stiletto. 

“We match,” he observes, pointing
towards his tie and my skirt.  His fingers brush against my thigh, sending
a flushed sensation between my legs.  Staring into my eyes, not letting my
gaze slip, he once again whispers, so that only I can hear.  “I know
there’s a lot that needs to be said.  For now, please don’t worry about us
so we can get through the day.  We’ll talk later.”  With that, he
touches my knee, sending shivers all the way down my spine.  My eyes
flutter shut.

“Okay,” is all I can muster,
exhaling the deep breathe I didn’t know I was holding. 

Appearing as though our
conversation has affected him, just as much as it has me, he points toward the
buffet line that has now shortened.  Clearing his throat, Alex shakes his
head.  “I think we may have a chance to get some food, without the risk of
having our hands chewed off.” 

With his hand on the small of my
back, I let Alex lead me toward the buffet.  The feel of his touch against
the lace of my blouse makes me yearn for his hands all over my body.  But,
instead of giving into my desires, I say nothing, only allowing myself to bask
in his closeness.  If only I could lighten my heavy breathing.  I
know there’s so much that needs to be said, but for now, this is enough.

Reaching the line, I take in the
tempting aromas of the sweet and savory dishes, but decide to go light and pick
an egg white omelet with spinach, bell peppers, mushrooms, and a small sprinkle
of cheese. 

At my far right, I notice Alex
making conversation with the pretty brunette making his pancakes. 
Throwing his head back, he laughs with such animation, that I’m afraid he may
fall down.  I haven’t seen him this carefree in days and I’m envious of
her ability to bring it out of him.  I can’t help my momentary glare as
jealousy builds.  With omelet in tow I head towards the table, refusing to
stand and watch Ms. Pancakes laugh it up with him.  He probably won’t even
know I’m gone.

Returning to the table, I feel
like an outsider.  All of the men are in full discussion, seeming to have
known each other for years.  The gentlemen to my right are in deep
discussion about their kids who are graduating from high school this year, the
men to my left are discussing the candidates for Presidency.  Not wanting
to jump into either conversation, I decide to stick with my omelet and the
empty seat next to me, and pout.

I’ve never been one to play with
my food, but sourly my appetite has left after watching Alex enjoy himself,
with someone other than me.  Maybe he’s purposefully flirting to make me
jealous; to allow me to experience an ounce of the turmoil he’s felt. 
Regardless of what he felt during the whole Cole debacle, I never once
purposefully tried to piss him off or make him jealous. 
That’s not
true, Ely.  I’m pretty sure it was you who invited Cole to the fundraiser
in the first place.  Ok, fine; there was that one moment of insanity, but
Alex had ignored me for four days and I thought I meant nothing to him.
 
I’m beginning to wonder if I still mean nothing to him.  I sigh as I push
my food around on my plate, still waiting for answers.  This is going to
be a long day.

Interrupting my inner discussion,
I feel a strong hand tapping me on my shoulder.  Turning, I half expect to
see Alex, but instead I’m met by captivating, emerald green eyes.  The
rest of him isn’t too shabby either.  He’s quite attractive with short dark
hair, tanned skin, prominent nose, and well groomed facial hair.  I glance
down at his name tag.  Feeling bold, and not knowing where it came from, I
inquire, “May I help you, Oliver?”

He smirks as he leans back in his
chair.  “Must be mindlessly boring sitting at a table full of fat, lazy,
old men.  You should come to the dark side, we’ll keep you company.” 
Isn’t he Mr. Forward?
  Oliver points towards his dining companions
who seem to all be younger, except for one older gentleman devouring a stack of
pancakes.

My eyes shoot towards two
gentlemen with heavy Boston accents, attempting to attract a female’s attention
two tables over.  Laughing, they write something on a napkin before
tossing it in her direction.  Unfortunately for them, the wad of paper
hits her on the side of her head.  With a glare she snatches the battle
weapon, aka the piece of paper, and throws it back at them.  They duck to
avoid her wrath.  “Yah, you guys seem like a bunch of party
animals.” 

“What?  You can’t tell me
their approach isn’t original?  When was the last time a guy gave you a
“do you like me, yes or no,” note….fourth grade?” 

“More like third.”  Bringing
me out of my foul mood, I giggle.  Oliver’s charming smile and bright eyes
lighten at the sound of my laughter.

“That’s what I was waiting for,
your beautiful smile.  So, how about you accept my invitation and switch
sides?”  Tilting his head towards his table, Oliver waves me over.

“I appreciate the…” Before I’m
able to finish my sentence, Alex’s booming voice startles me. 

“She doesn’t need your company,
Prescott! 
My
Sales Executive is fine exactly where she is.” 
Returning from his laugh fest with Ms. Pancakes, Alex slams his plate against
the table, halting all conversations around us. 
Prescott?
 
I’m
going to assume they know each other, and not in a good way. 

Oliver eyes Alex’s bandaged
fist.  With a chuckle, he retorts, “So, what happened, James? Are you that
lonely these days?  Has your only companion rejected you?  I told you
before, there’s no need to beat yourself up over how much of a prick you
are.” 

“Fuck off, Prescott.” 
Oliver rolls his eyes at Alex.  Smiling brightly at me, he straightens his
chair, as he returns to the conversations at his own table.

Not knowing what to say, I turn
back to my own food, and continue to toy with my omelet.  He doesn’t
explain, and I don’t ask.  At least not right now.  We sit and eat in
silence.  Occasionally, Alex is pulled into a conversation with one of the
other six men sitting across from us.  All of them studiously ignore me as
they battle it out for the master of the banquet hall, some of the
conversations getting boisterously loud.  Thank God the torture is over,
as they are interrupted by Ms. Plum, belting out an announcement from the
podium.

“I want to thank everyone for
attending our annual ‘Sales Performance and Management’ Seminar. 
Hopefully everyone’s had a chance to eat all of the scrumptious food prepared
by our wonderful hosts.”  The room breaks out in applause; joining in I
clap my hands together several times, but feel uncoordinated as my hands seem
to be beating to their own drum.  Looking over at Oliver, he notices my
uncoordinated effort and brings his hand up to his lips to mask his
laughter.  I glare at him. 
What is he up to?

“Next up is our ice
breaker.  Everyone will have a chance to meet and reacquaint themselves
with all of the new and old faces in the crowd.  Please notice that you’ve
been assigned a number, which has been written on your name tag.  This
number signifies your table.  In addition, you’ve also been assigned a
color.  You’re either a red or a blue.”  I glance down and see a red
mark next to my name. 

“I need all of the blues to stand
up.”  Alex adjusts his tie and stands, placing his napkin on the bare
plate in front of him.  “Now, blues head to the table number that is one
above yours.  Sit and get to know your neighbors.  I will blow a horn
which will alert the blues to switch tables again.  Continue this until
you’ve had a chance to talk with at least one person from each of your
neighboring tables.” 

Taking his cue to leave, Alex
shrugs off his jacket baring his vest and white button down shirt. 
Salivating, I thoroughly inspect every inch of him.  I’m completely
mesmerized and can’t take my eyes off him.  Shaking my head, I’m brought
back to earth as Alex leans down to whisper in my ear.  “I’ll see you in a
little bit.”  As he’s about to walk away, he leans down again, forgetting
to tell me something, “Oh and can you do me a favor?”  I nod.  “Will
you please put on your jacket?  I’ve already been in one fight because of
you; I don’t need to get into another.”  He grins, heading with three
other gentlemen to table number four. 

As soon as they are all up, the
wait staff comes in and removes all of the remnants from breakfast.  Just
as I’m about to put my jacket back on, I’m interrupted with yet another tap on
my shoulder.  This time, Oliver decides to occupy the chair Alex just
vacated.

“Hi!  Elyssa, right?” 
He glances down at my low cut shirt, staring at my cleavage.  I can
already tell he’s
that
kind of guy, but I’m going to give him the
benefit of the doubt, assuming he was searching for my name tag.  It’s
true that attractive men get away with murder, because normally I would have
felt insulted by the complete physical Oliver just gave me with his eyes. 
But, there’s something about him, something I can’t quite put my finger
on.  He intrigues me.  Grabbing my jacket, I slip my arms through
before adjusting my lapel to show my name tag.  You know, just in case
that’s what he was looking for.

“Oliver, right?”  His eyes
shoot up, and once again he’s giving me that ‘you can trust me, but you really
shouldn’t’ smile.  Although he’s very forward, I immediately like
him.  His charisma, mixed with his toothy smile and rugged demeanor, is
undeniably appealing. 
Watch this; I can be forward, too.
 
“So, Oliver, how does this work?  This is my first,” I tease.

“Oh a virgin!  What a treat
it is for you that I get to pop your cherry.”  He claps his hands
together, rubbing them before continuing.  “You know I usually don’t get
serious when I first meet someone, but I gotta tell you…there’s something about
you,” he admits, mirroring my thoughts.  I have an odd attraction to
him.  Nothing like what I feel for Alex, but there’s definitely a feeling
of comfort around him.

I burst out laughing at his
inappropriate innuendo.  “God, you love hearing the sound of your voice
don’t you?  Have you ever been told that you’re rather presumptuous?”

“I have a great voice, if you
don’t mind me saying.  And yes, I have been told that I’m cocky, but
that’s usually by someone who hasn’t said yes to me yet.”

I can’t help but giggle.  I
don’t think I’ve wanted to laugh this much in months.  He’s overconfident,
but at least he’s fun.  As the horn blows I reach out my hand to greet
Oliver goodbye.  “Well Oliver, it was nice meeting you.”

“Not so fast!”  Oliver grabs
my hand but doesn’t let go, sending a jolt of energy up my arm. 
What
is he doing?
  “Hey Barney, stay at table 2 for me, would ya?” 
The older gentleman smirks.  I remember him from moments ago, devouring
his breakfast. 

“What are you doing?”  I try
to tug my hand back, but Oliver has a tight grip. 

“I’m still getting to know
you.  Isn’t that what this little exercise is about?”  I shrug, not
knowing what else to say.  He has no intentions of giving my hand back, so
instead I sit and listen to him talk about himself, as he gauges my
reaction. 

Living in San Diego for a while
now, he tells me he’s been looking at relocating to Las Vegas.  And now
might be as good of a time as any. 
Wait, why is he talking about Las
Vegas?
  He must have noticed the panic look in my eyes, because he
pats my knee with his other hand before explaining.  “Don’t worry. 
I’m not a crazy person.  Isn’t boring ole’ Mr. James over there your Sales
V.P. at SHI?” he jeers, sticking his thumb out towards Alex.