Love Confessed (3 page)

After picking up Ethan, I bribe him with ice cream to go to the store and help me pick out a dress for Friday.

“What do you think?” I ask Ethan, who looks positively bored out of his mind.

“You look pretty mom.” he says slumped in the chair of the dressing room, swinging

his legs back and forth after barely looking up long enough to register that I’m standing right in front of him. 

“You’ve said that about the last four dresses.” I say, becoming discouraged.

“That’s because I think you always look pretty mom.”

“Well thank you babe. Which one is your favorite though?”

“Ummm, I think I like the blue one. Can I play your phone now mom? Please?”

After several beats of careful debating with myself while staring in the mirror, it’s decided.

“Ok, blue one it is. Yes you may play my phone.”

We leave Nordstrom and I take Ethan to a special dinner at his favorite restaurant. Followed, of course, by the promised ice cream because I couldn’t be the mom who made her son watch her try on dresses for an hour and forget the ice cream sundae. My date with my son is exactly what I need today. Well, most days actually. It puts me in a whole new head space. It puts me at ease. I’m so in love with him, so proud of the little man that he’s becoming, that there’s honestly nobody I’d rather spend my evening with. I get fully regaled with his day at school, his excitement coming up over the summer soccer session, and am reminded at the very last minute of his volcano project due tomorrow morning. Crap!!! I can’t believe I forgot. I’m usually more organized. I blame Steve and his sexiness for distracting me.

Ethan is a trooper and stays up to help until he finally has to shower. By 9:30 he falls asleep and I’m left putting the finishing touches on our jello filled volcano until I’m finally done at 11:30. I honestly don’t remember first grade being nearly so detailed when I went and I turned out just fine. Sheesh. I’m pretty sure I made this project in fifth grade. What a wonderful night though. All of my time and thoughts are consumed by this lovely life I share with my son. No derailed fantasy. No being diverted with thoughts of green eyes or dustings of chest hair peeking out of tight v-neck t-shirts. When I’m finally crawling into my oversized bed that is covered in my insanely expensive cotton sheets (my gift to myself after my last promotion) I fall asleep instantly. I sleep like a baby, barely hearing my alarm when it starts going off and I hit the snooze. When I hear it go off for the second time, I shoot awake with sheer panic.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. There is no way to skip work today, not with the hearing I have to be ready for next week. There is absolutely no way to get out of the party. Not only would Scott kill me but it’s also an important chance to socialize with many of our important clients and other charitable members of our community. Many of our colleagues and benefactors who work alongside and support our firm in its benevolence will also be in attendance. I am thankful that Scott has chosen to allow this to be a huge part of our practice. So I must suffer through my day, and try my very hardest to get through tonight without going crazy…

2
Steve

I pull up to Sanders & Smith Law Firm and I’m ten minutes early for my meeting with Scott Sanders, one of the founding partners. I know being early isn’t necessary, especially in the entertainment industry where schedules are generally lax and inconvenient for most parties involved. But I love my job, and I still take it very seriously. Growing up on a farm in small town Illinois, my father taught me the value of hard work and my mother taught me the value of respect. Promptness was part of both virtues and is something that is ingrained in my very core. As my Grandpa always said, “If you’re not early, you’re late.”
              I’ve also worked much too hard to establish this business and make it successful to feel justified in taking any part of it for granted. So I’d much rather be ten minutes early than show up five minutes late. Especially for a meeting like this, that’s both a follow up for a high grossing event coming up as well as a chance to bull shit with one of my buddies.

Scott Sanders has been my lawyer for the past decade. Over the years he’s also become a very reliable drinking buddy.  He was also one of my first big clients. His much younger second wife, Jennifer, is the younger sister of a buddy of mine from college and the connection proved to be a useful foundation for my now flourishing entertainment and production business. Shortly after I met him at his and Jennifer’s wedding, one of the celebrity functions my company was hosting had a breach of security where an intruder posed as a member of my staff. He then proceeded to take and attempt to sell the photos of the private function and I had the shit sued out of me. It was my first lawsuit, and Scott was the only lawyer I knew. He was happy to help. We met the same afternoon that I called to talk to him, and we discussed the lawsuit and his retainer at a local Irish pub near his firm. As the business conversation took place over a frosty glass of Guinness, Scott’s handsomely large retainer was slightly reduced and a new relationship mixed moderately between business and beer was developed.

We’ve exploited each other’s businesses here and there over the years, and now his firm is celebrating its 25
th
anniversary. The page six ordeal is one that my company is fortunate enough to be producing. While I am certainly not lacking any business, events like this are still always helpful marketing campaigns as well a chance to hang out with friends and colleagues. I’m sure that they’d also be a great place to meet an attractive woman but who has the time for a relationship? I’ve dated casually over the past six years but have yet to be able to invest myself in a committed relationship. Not since my late wife have I felt a real connection with a woman or honestly, even had the desire to find one.

I’ve been okay with the occasional one night stand, and even for the select few who have made it longer than that - but I haven’t had it in me to attempt any sort of serious relationship. Casual dating isn’t much easier for me though, at least after those first few dates. I grew up in a big family, with a house full of brothers who were a giant pain in the ass but who I would do anything for. We may fight with each other, but we’ll also protect each other fiercely as well. Coming from a close knit family like mine, disposable relationships are far from easy. It’s hard for me to be involved without being, well, myself. I’m protective. I’m possessive. I like to take care of people. Being a dad has only strengthened these traits, which I think makes me a better father but unfortunately a much worse casual dater.

Because of these traits I’ve reluctantly come to accept possessing, I’ve come to accept my incompatibility with modern dating. I just can’t have sex without becoming emotionally involved. Being involved isn’t such a bad thing – I think it could be potentially good for both Abby and I, but I just haven’t met anybody for whom I’ve been interested in letting myself feel that sort of attachment for. I certainly haven’t met anybody that I would want to be a maternal influence in my daughter’s life. Abigail Jane, or Janie, was the love of my life. Hands down, no questions asked. We met our junior year in high school when she transferred from the city to our rural town. Her grandparents had passed away and her father inherited and chose to work their soy bean farm, which neighbored ours. Her father, Henry, and mine had grown up together. I met him shortly after him moving home but didn’t meet his family when he came to dinner because they were moving a few months later. Janie’s dad wanted to make sure he was settled and comfortable before his wife and Janie came and made the transition to country life. 

I was the confidant, outgoing hometown hero, the varsity quarterback and homecoming king. She was the big city girl that all the girls wanted to be. The first time I saw her in the halls, I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on. Unfortunately, she didn’t quite see me that way. She thought that because I was the small town star quarterback, I had a huge ego and to be honest, I kind of did. It took me months to convince her to go on a date with me but she finally caved. When she did, I made sure to sweep her off her feet because I knew she was the kind of girl unlikely to give me another chance if I screwed up.

After that first date, we were inseparable. She made me a better person, she taught me to be humble and from her I also learned to be kind and open. She was warm and loving, and our life together was perfect. We moved to the city and went to college together after high school. We got married the summer after our freshman year, even though most everybody told us we were way too young for that sort of commitment. The people who really knew us though, they got it. They would tell the doubters that Janie and I had the kind of love a lot of people never got and that we’d be fine - and we were. We were perfect together.

The wedding is actually how the start of J&S Production came about. Janie was pre-med at Columbia and jumped straight into her over-achiever course load. She was excited to get married, but was so focused on school that she just didn’t have time to plan a wedding. So the wedding planning was up to me. She asked if I’d mind – in high school I ended up planning most of the big parties we all had at my parents’ barn – and I didn’t even have to think. I’d loved planning those parties, I loved planning the gigs for my college football team and planning a party to celebrate my love for Janie was something I had never thought about being the one to do but couldn’t wait to start on once she asked. There were some things I needed her feminine touch for, but planning our wedding in the city was the foundation for our business.

When my daughter was born and Janie died, not only did a piece of me die but I had to learn all over again how to function in life without her.  At the time it seemed like an insurmountable feat, but I learned a little more every day.

Still, it is hard sometimes to be a good person without her, but I try. I try to live up to the man she believed me to be, the man she knew I could become. Since her passing, my focus has been developing the business and building the comfortable life she supported me so greatly in creating for our daughter.

*              *              *

Scott shakes my hand and slaps my back when he walks out to the reception area to greet me. It’s been a couple of months since I have seen him so our first order of business is catching up. We make our way down the long hall to his office and I settle myself in his oversized chair on the visitor side of his desk. He presses a button and a full bar flips around from behind the wall that is behind his desk towards the windows. He offers me a Scotch from his vintage collection and I graciously accept.

“How have things been?” he asks as he fills my shifter.

“Can’t complain. Things have been busy at work. Went on a date last week. You know same old, same old.” I reply.

“Really… was she hot? Did you get lucky?”

              “Scott, you’re such an ass. You’ll never change, which is probably why you’ve been divorced three times. But yes, I did get lucky. Thanks for asking…” I reply as I hold my glass up in a very frat boy cheers.

“All right, man! So what do you think, she a keeper? Well, at least for a few  dates?” he asks. No matter how much of an ass hole I may feel like when I’m drinking with Scott, he always manages to be more of an ass and make me feel just a little better about myself.

“You’re strangely excited about my sex life.” I say as I raise an eyebrow at him but then admit, “No, you know I’m not looking for anything serious. ”

“I’m just happy to see you getting out there. This is literally your second date this year and we’re already in May. No man should deprive himself like that. Anyway, let’s get down to business, how’s our party coming along? Anything you need? Was Jo able to change the menu up? ”

“I’m happy with it being just Abby and I. The big night is coming along just fine. And yea, Jo was able to add that last minute request you had with the catering company, no problem. We were able to get the extra tables, they said they can add the additional plates. I’m sure you’ll now have enough of a sea to choose a fine fish for the evening, even though I’m not sure that an extra fifty guests was necessary for the one night stand I think you’re shooting for. I just need for you to show up at six on Friday and try not to set me up.”

“Not promising anything.” He says with his crooked smile. “Don’t judge. I’m shopping for you too, my friend…”

“See you Friday, man.” I say as I shake my head at him. With that I stand up and shake his hand to leave.

As I walk down the hall towards the reception area, I see Leah coming towards me with her face buried in papers, not even watching where she’s going. I haven’t decided if she’s a snobby little rich girl, who has had everything handed to her or if she’s just a hard worker and is always too busy to actually give me more than two seconds of her time. I’ve always been curious about her, she’s always caught my attention and today feels as good as any to try to figure her out. I make it a point to walk in her path. I just want to get a little closer. Get her attention somehow. I don’t know why I’ve always been afraid to talk to her until now. That’s not at all like me.

There’s something about her - I’d never gotten more than a casual greeting when passing in the halls, but today I just want to look into those crystal clear blue eyes for once. I get closer, expecting her to look up from the papers she’s studying intently. But when we’re two steps away, I’m still waiting for her to look up, to notice I’m walking towards her, to react to the person she has to feel coming right up on her. I know that I should move over or say something to stop her, but for some reason, I don’t. Or I can’t. At the exact moment that I am battling this internal dilemma, trying to get my mouth to stop her or my feet to move to the other side of the hall, Scott leans out of his office door and yells to me.

“Hey Steve, remember, no promises for Friday. And you’re welcome!” That second that I turn around to shake my head at Scott, Leah looks up but not before running right into my chest and scattering her papers across the hall.

When she looks up, I vaguely hear her mumble something but I’m not really paying attention because I’m mesmerized by her. Looking into those big blue eyes, even bigger in her look of sheer terror as she stares up at me, I feel like I can see into her soul. She’s absolutely beautiful, more stunning than I’ve ever gotten close enough to notice before. Making her even more attractive is the blush of her skin that tells me she’s thoroughly embarrassed.

I froze when Leah ran into me. I knew who she was, we’d passed in the halls of the firm or seen each other around town at community functions, but we’d never said more than a word or two in all the years we’ve been running into one another. Also, we’ve never run into each other quite like this before. Never before had we had more physical contact than a quick handshake that had always left me wondering if I was crazily imagining feeling a spark from a mundane means of physical contact – something that I do twenty times a day. This contact left no question. There were definitely sparks, and I definitely wasn’t the only one to feel them.

God, she smells good. Sweet, like flowers in bloom mixed with a little hint of her fabric softener. She is beautiful, no doubt about it, but she’d always seemed standoff-ish towards me. She always avoided eye contact, and I couldn’t figure out if she was just aloof or bordering on bitchy. Maybe because of the workload - I’m sure her job, and doing her job working for Scott, was exhausting. Or maybe she was a spoiled little rich girl? She always seemed like she had the potential to be nice enough but she never quite executed it. She is beautiful in a flawless, classic, pearl-wearing, private school attending, trust fund perfect kind of way.

She has shiny, perfectly coifed chestnut hair - never one hair out of place. She dressed perfectly - in a way that is professional and simple but has just the slightest hint of sensuality. A frill that borders on rebellion – like today when she’s wearing a charcoal pencil skirt with a black fitted buttoned shirt unbuttoned just low enough to make me notice. I also notice the oversize pearl stud earrings and double stranded pearl necklace she’s wearing. Did she do that on purpose, or am I just such a pervy old man these days that I see sex everywhere? Maybe it’s time to drink less with Scott. I’m starting to think that he’s a bad influence.

Usually Leah wears tall stilettos that made her legs look like they go on for miles. Today though, today she wears flats. I don’t think I’d ever seen her wear them before. Her being tall, almost able to look me in the eye is unquestionably sexy. It make her seem more confidant and assertive, like she knows who she was and she wears her skin well. But it was the perfect day to wear flats because when she ran into me, she ran right into my chest and before I could think about it I grabbed her waist to steady her and my head was in her hair until she looked up at me…fuck. What a look. I’m sure it was only a second but I felt like we looked at each other for an hour. I can’t remember the last time I looked at somebody like that, felt a spark like that. Her being in flats made her seem so much smaller. Even though I know she’s tough enough to hold her own, the second I touch her she seems more fragile than I ever imagined and I want to hold her tight and keep her safe.