Authors: Marie James
“Who exactly are we meeting?” I ask as we valet her car at
Prime
, a club she’s assured me is the best of the best.
“You know,” she shrugs her shoulders in a very unlike Jillian manor. “Just a few people from work.”
I glare at her as we make our way into the club, waiting to interrogate her until after we clear security and find a table.
Walking side by side deeper into the club I finally reach out and grab her arm. “Jillian there is only a handful of people who work at that office. Please don’t tell me you invited…”
“London,” I hear a familiar voice say before I can finish my plea with Jillian.
“Justin,” I say in greeting as well as completing my sentence directed at my soon to be ex-friend. “So nice to see you outside of work.”
I reach out to shake his hand, suddenly awkward in the situation and not knowing what to do. He takes my hand rather than shaking it; he brushes a soft kiss on the top.
He’s remained mostly professional at work; except for the occasional requests for dinner since our conversation about being emotionally unavailable. Things weren’t weird between us until the last sixty seconds.
“I ordered you water with lime,” he offers, remembering my drink order the handful of times we’ve been out with clients.
I thank him and take a seat on the high stool he’s pulled out in offering. Jillian talks to Hawke and ignores me even though I’m shooting her daggers in my mind. This is the kind of thing she does. She always feels like her interventions will help people along, and they end up backfiring.
I don’t even want to talk about what happened last week at lunch when she tried to set the guy in line ahead of us at the coffee shop up with the barista. Things were going great between them until his wife came out of the restroom and caught him flirting with another woman. Needless to say, she’s got no clue what other people need romantically even though she continues to interject herself in other people’s love lives like some deranged cupid with a broken bow n arrow.
“Are you here under duress as well?” I ask Justin as I sip my water and watch as Jillian strangely flirts with her boss.
“No,” he says with a playful smile. “I’m here because Jillian said you guys were going out and thought Hawke and I should join you.”
“Did she?” I say and cut my eyes to her. “Would you be surprised if I told you that I had no idea you’d be here, and she’s set me up?”
His smile gets bigger before he answers. He looks over at Jillian and then back to me. “Not surprised one bit. I’ve known Jillian for a while, and this seems like something right up her alley.”
“Yep,” I answer.
“It’s not the first time she’s pulled this with me so if we’re doing the full disclosure thing I have to admit that I had an idea it’s what she was doing again tonight.”
“Yet you came anyway? Why is that?”
“I knew it was you she was trying to set me up with.” He holds a hand up effectively stopping my response. “I know where you stand, London and I’m not trying to infiltrate myself further into your life, but heaven help me, I couldn’t turn down a chance to see you outside of the office.”
I just glare at him, even though I’m not really that upset.
He raises an eyebrow at me. “I won’t apologize for it,” he says and winks at me. “Want to dance?” He asks holding his hand out as the DJ begins to play a popular, fast-paced song.
I should say no, just because I don’t want him to get the wrong idea or read too much into it, but instead I jump off the stool and place my hand on his. I love to dance, and I haven’t done it in months. I vow right then to start doing more things that make me happy.
We dance for what seems like hours. By the time I make it off the dance floor, I’m so sweaty it’s embarrassing.
“That was great,” I say patting the sweat off of my face and arms with a cocktail napkin.
“I agree!” Justin says while flagging down a waitress. “Water?”
“Yes, please.”
“Are you glad you came tonight?” He asks as the waitress leaves to retrieve our drinks. I notice he’s drinking water also.
I grin from ear to ear. “I really am!” I sway in my seat to another favorite song of mine as it rumbles through the packed club.
The waitress gets our drinks lightning fast, and I gulp almost all of mine down before she even walks away.
I grin at Justin and in a very unladylike manner wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I freeze instantly when I realize that I’ve grown so used to being around him over the last few weeks I don’t even pay attention to appropriate mannerisms anymore. The thought sends a chill up my spine because I was the same way with Kadin. I quickly push the thought out of my head.
“Want to go somewhere we can chat?” He points to one of the loud speakers nearby. “Can’t really hear anything right here.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Let me guess? Your place?”
His eyes widen, and he holds his hands up in mock surrender. “London, I’m not the type of guy to do that sort of thing.” He points to a staircase that leads to a balcony on the back wall. “I was thinking more along the lines of VIP.”
I automatically feel like shit for assuming that all of a sudden he would turn into a douche that thought a few dances meant I suddenly had a change of heart. I know him better than that, but I still jumped to the wrong conclusion first. When did I become the person who stopped trusting everyone?
About the same time everyone you trusted betrayed you,
my brain reminds me.
I give him a look of apology and place my hand in his, allowing him to guide me through the crowded room to the staircase. A quick nod to the security guard is all it takes for them to unclip the velvet cord and allow us to past. It seems Justin is well known here, which I find surprising since Jillian says he doesn’t date.
Just because he doesn’t date doesn’t mean he doesn’t fuck.
This is the twenty-first century, I remind myself.
The chaos from down below doesn’t quite reach the half-moon shaped lounging area Justin chooses for us to sit in. A waitress provides drink services almost before we have time to sit down.
“You must come here a lot,” I say nodding toward the guy at the rope as he turns a couple of inebriated guys away.
“Not really,” He answers and thanks the waitress as she hands him two more iced glasses of water, one with lime.
I take mine from him. “Must come around enough that you don’t have to bribe anyone to get into the VIP section.”
He laughs loudly, throwing his head back. I smirk because I just can’t help it and he’s quite enduring when he’s this animated. “The guy at the rope,” he says pointing at the security guard who let us up here. “That’s my cousin Anthony. I called him earlier and begged him not to give me shit if I came up here with a pretty girl.”
“Seriously?” I shake my head slightly. “Why wouldn’t you just let me believe you were popular enough just to breeze past him? Why tell me your trade secrets?”
I watch his eyes with amusement and look down when I feel him take my hand, resting the combination on my knee.
“Two reasons, London. First, I don’t want you to get the idea that I run around and go trolling for women so often that the bouncer at a club knows me.” He pauses, and I blink up at him, amazed at his sincerity. “Secondly, I’ll never lie to you. Ask me a question and I’ll always tell you the truth, even if it’s something you don’t want to hear or may cause you pain.”
I look down as his thumb casually rubs circles on the back of my hands. “Not a very good trait for a lawyer is it?” I chide.
“What’s that?” He asked distractedly.
“Not being willing to lie.” I raise my eyes back to him and notice the change in his. They’re softer, more inviting if that’s even possible considering how kind and thoughtful he’s been since day one.
“Can I kiss you, London?” He asks softly already moving on from the previous conversation.
I gasp. “I can’t, Justin. I’m just not…” I trail off because I feel like shit.
“Available. I know. Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He releases my hand and grabs for his water, moving slightly to give me some much-needed space. I wait for him to turn into an asshole. I wait for him to accuse me of being a cock-tease, all of the things Brian did leading up to the first time he raped me. I know when I get home I’ll analyze every word we’ve spoken tonight, every action of mine to determine at what point the gears shifted leading us into the direction.
He never becomes that person. Not once does he even hint or insinuate I’m a horrible person for dancing with him, spending time with him, and yet still refuse to move past the friendship that we have. It makes me curse the past men in my life even more, knowing if it wasn’t for the heartbreak and pain they’ve caused I wouldn’t be one hundred percent on board the Justin Train.
“So I can ask you anything?” I ask playfully and smile when he turns his head from watching the writhing crowd down below back to me.
“I’m an open book.” I’d ask him about the woman Jillian mentioned weeks ago but once again I don’t want to open a door he’ll expect me also to walk through after he’s shared his sob story.
Instead, I keep it safe and ask something that’s niggled in my head since I first walked into Brand & Platt. “When I came in for my interview with Ms. Gilson, did you call her while I was still in the office?”
His smile answers my question, but he verbalizes it anyway. “Yes.”
“You know she was about to kick me out of her office don’t you? She had no intentions of hiring me once she found out I was pregnant.” I can’t even hide the disdain in my voice if I wanted to.
He grins sadly. “That’s Ms. Gilson,” he sighs. “She can’t have children and pretty much hates any woman who can. She’s bitter to say the least.”
“She’s rude,” I add.
“Well, it’s a good thing I called then, huh?” He winks at me, and I smile at his continued flirting.
Apparently Jillian had no intentions of hanging out with us tonight. She and Hawke disappeared sometime after Justin and I hit the dance floor because I didn’t’ see her again after that. I make a mental note to bitch her out first thing Monday morning and refuse to ever go out with her again.
I can’t deny I had a great time tonight. But I don’t know how awkward things are going to be Monday morning.
Justin insisted on driving me home and walking to my door even though technically the evening wasn’t a date. He assures me my car will be waiting for me in the morning, and he’ll drop my keys in the mail slot. I know he doesn’t read it that way either, and he’s a gentleman all of the time, not just tonight.
“Thanks for coming out tonight,” he says as we reach my front door. “I had a great time.” He holds open the screen door as I find the right key and unlock it.
“I did too,” I reply honestly.
I turn to tell him goodbye and close my eyes briefly when I find him only inches from my face. I feel his finger trace my jawline from my ear to my chin.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
“I know,” he says, and I look up into his eyes. “I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
“I’m not asking you to do that.”
“I know,” he says kissing my forehead and walking back to his car. He remains parked out front until I get inside, lock the door behind me, and wave goodbye to him from the window.