Pleasure Extraordinaire 2 (PURSUIT) (21 page)

Why am I even surprised? He must have forced Bree into arranging the tables so he
can sit with me. Poor Bree. How much more of Adam’s games to get me will she endure?
She’s already acting as his personal mailman, bringing me his weekly dinner-date cards
with some bullshit romantic words on them.

As if we didn’t just discuss his plans about my bedroom life, he takes his place nonchalantly
next to me, not neglecting to brush his leg against mine as he sits, and nods to the
girl sitting across from me. Although plus-ones weren’t invited to the party, Bree
brought her friend—with my permission, of course—to fill in the place of another employee
who canceled at the last minute. I don’t miss the ecstatic look on the girl’s face
as Adam reaches for the menu.

Yet another evening of being surrounded by women who can’t stop giggling, flaunting,
or generally making fools of themselves for Adam.

“I’m Nichole,” the girl says with a large smile and holds out her hand to Adam, and
Adam shakes it briefly and introduces himself.

“I’m Taylor,” I say when her eyes find mine, but I don’t bother with shaking hands.
The three-tiered silver tray of pastries between us is too big an obstacle.

Grabbing a mushroom-cheese mini-quiche, I inhale its aroma and swallow it with one
easy move. Bree’s friend causally slides onto Bree’s seat, which is right next to
Adam’s, and begins chatting with him.

Bree comes back, shooting an angry look at her friend, and leans down to whisper in
my ear, “I think Valerie is crying. I heard sobs in the restroom, but I’m not sure
if it’s her.”

I nod and tell her to sit and enjoy the dinner. I don’t want to deal with someone
else’s heartache. Valerie is a beautiful, young woman. And smart too. Why the hell
is she crying over a man with whom she hasn’t shared anything beyond work duties?
Or did she, and I don’t know about it?

Feeling angry and curious in equal parts, I wipe my lips with the napkin and leave
the table, under Adam’s questioning eyes.

The restroom is well-lit and smells of fresh flowers. I start to check the stalls
to locate Valerie, but she materializes from the last one, with her eyes red and wet,
and strides to the sinks.

“What is the matter?” I know what it is, but I want to hear it from her lips.

She blows into a tissue and walk passes me to the mirrored room. “Like you don’t know
what the matter is.”

“I want to hear it from you. What upset you so badly that you hid in the restroom
to cry?” Looking at her reflection in the mirror, I cross my arms over my chest and
stand close to her.

“Is he into you?” She pulls the faucet on and begins washing her hands.

“Who?”

She rolls her eyes and snorts. “Is Adam into you?”

“Yes, he wants to screw me, if that is what ‘into you’ means for you.”

“It didn’t look to me like he wants just that.”

“Seriously? I’m one fucked-up woman who sleeps in her dead husband’s pajamas. Every
second sentence I speak is about Jack. And, I’m still wearing my wedding band, in
case you haven’t noticed already—” I raise my left hand to show her the ring. “What
else can he want from me?”

She shakes her head, barely hiding a smile. “Since when did you know about it?”

“Well,” I say, trying to remember the first time Adam asked me out on a date. “I think
it was six months after Jack’s death.”

Her eyes grow large with surprise and she gasps. “That’s more than two fucking years
ago.” Abruptly, she turns to face me. I’m forced to take a step back by her closeness.
Actually, I’m a little worried she’ll slap me in the face.

I shrug, although I’m, too, more than a little taken by the lengthy amount of time
Adam has been pursuing me. Since then, he hasn’t missed a Friday to ask me out for
a dinner for Saturday night. But, of course, I won’t tell her that.

“And, you were gonna tell this to me... when?” she asks, her chin up, eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know. The thing is I don’t give a shit about his advances. He loves attention.
He loves women. Lots of women. He uses one and moves on to the next. Haven’t you ever
heard of his relationship with the famous country singer, Pat Carter? He dumped her
after four years of relationship, and she couldn’t keep it together for a long time
after him. He’s a playboy. I thought you’d figure it out on your own, without me having
to tell you about his interest in me.” I pause and hesitantly put my hand on her shoulder.
“You deserve someone better than him.”

She dries her eyes with tissue; even so, she doesn’t take those damn glasses off.
Her eyelids are coated with dark grey eye-shadow. I consider telling her she’d have
a better chance with him if she ditched those glasses and considered a new makeup
style but I don’t want to be slapped. So, I just squeeze my hand tighter on her shoulder
before we leave the restroom.

“Maybe I just want some senseless fuck,” Valerie says.

My stomach turns at the thought, and I taste in my mouth the quiche I’ve just eaten.
“I don’t want to hear a word about it, then.”

“A playboy, huh? I’ve never imagined that.”

“Not a word,” I warn, raising my forefinger to stress my point.

When we come back to our table, I find Bree and her friend giggling at Adam’s jokes.
I turn and give Valerie a ‘what have I just told you?’ look.

The servers come to take our drink orders and, when I ask for soda, Adam glances at
me with an approving look in his eyes for the choice of my non-alcoholic drink and
then goes back to entertaining the girls. Oh, Bree. I’m going to raise your salary
for freeing me from Adam’s clutches even for a few hours. And, I’ll promote you if
your little friend gets in the sack with him.

In a couple of minutes, the servers place our drinks and entrees efficiently and disappear
as soon as they come. I dig into the glazed duck leg with figs while enjoying the
exchange between Nichole and Adam. Valerie not so much, I notice. Nichole manages
to have her hand very close to Adam’s arm. Unable to mask my curiosity about her next
move, I swallow a piece of fig and touch Valerie’s shoe with the tip of my boot to
raise her attention to the happening.

Nichole moves her hand very casually toward Adam, while laughing with body-racking
laughter at Adam’s yet another joke. I’m about to burst with excitement and thrill,
as though I’m watching a blockbuster in 3D. As soon as Nichole’s hand lands on Adam’s
arm, though, he jerks away as if stung by a bee and pushes his chair back to stand
up. His face a peculiar hue of purple, like the fig on my plate, he excuses himself
to go talk to one of the employees. Employee, my ass. He dashes off directly toward
the door.

There goes the promotion for Bree. I exchange curious looks with Valerie and remember
to swallow the piece of tender duck in my mouth. He’s playing the devoted and loyal
around me. I bet money it’s all part of his scheme to get me.

Nichole gapes after him with her mouth wide open and cannot bring herself to shut
it even long after Adam’s gone. I’m surprised to find a tickling of compassion for
her inside me. She has no way to know of Adam’s relentless pursuit of me.

When Adam comes back, approximately ten minutes later, he avoids our table like the
plague and socializes with the accounting team. Nichole eyes me briefly with shame
written all over her face, before cocking her head down to her plate. I observe with
amazement that she has yet to touch her dish. What an effect Adam has over women that
they even neglect eating! Forget about Weightwatchers or Jenny Craig. There’s no better
way than Adam to get those humps in shape.

“So, Bree. The evening has been great so far,” Valerie says between the sips of her
champagne. “I think you should go into event planning rather than waste your talent
with organizing Taylor’s agenda.”

“I’m happy with my job, and Taylor is the best boss ever,” Bree says with a cheery
tone and grabs a scone off of the pastry tray.

“Don’t feed her mind with nonsense.” I nudge Valerie’s ribcage, while stealing a glance
at Adam. No matter how I detest his flirtations, I still find him the most interesting
person in the room. Even though I can’t make out what he is speaking about with the
people at his table; his demeanor, energy, and the power he radiates as he speaks
make me want to switch tables to his. If only his intentions for me were of a more
friendly nature. He’d make a great friend, I’m sure.

While I’m vaguely listening to Valerie’s strong opinions about how Republicans are
on the verge on ruining the country, a group of four young men with musical instruments
enter the suite. I turn to Bree with a questioning look. Her face beams once she notices
the group of men, and she stands up abruptly. I guess this is her only chance to break
free from Valerie’s infamous political discussion.

“Our musical guests have just arrived. I’d better attend to them,” she explains to
Valerie.

“I didn’t know we’d have live music,” I say, showing my discontent for not having
been informed about it. After all, I’m paying for this evening, and I have every right
to know what and who is on the menu.

“Oh, but I mentioned them to you early this morning. Besides, the entire evening plan
was sent to you together with the bill. Both in paper and electronically.”

“Oh, my mistake, then. Sorry.” I gesture at her to go and see to the musicians. From
their Michael-Bublé looks, I assume we’ll be listening to some jazz-pop classical
tunes.

Tapping my fingers on the table, I study the band members as they prepare their instruments
and settle on the stage. When I see the guy whom I assume to be the singer nod his
head to Bree, I start to stand up to introduce the band. However, Adam appears by
the stage and grabs the microphone from the singer’s hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he begins.

F
rom the corner of my eye, I see Taylor shifting in her chair. If she’s thinking she’ll
just come up to the stage and make a dry announcement of the band, she’s completely
wrong. I smile at her briefly, and wait for her to sit back in her chair, and then
introduce the band. I recite what Bree told me about the band earlier in the evening
and introduce the band members by their names.

“What would a celebration be without hitting the dance floor? Unfortunately we’re
thirty-two men against fifteen women. That says a lot about HR, doesn’t it?” People
begin laughing; I wait for a few seconds before I go on. “As a solution, you ladies
have to dance with at least two gentlemen, so we all can get a chance to shake it.
I know you’re all shy and not intoxicated enough. So, I’m going to go ahead and do
the first dance to open up the dance floor.”

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know Taylor won’t say ‘yes’ to my dance invitation
if I ask her nicely, so I have to impose it on her. Holding the microphone still close
to my mouth, I raise my free hand toward her. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head
as a reply. Only, she won’t be able to escape. I won’t let her.

I can barely contain a laugh coming. “You’re part of the statistics.”

“Pick someone else. I don’t want to be your first victim.” Her gaze is glued on the
glass of soda in her hand, her fingers drumming around it. A nervous tick that I’ve
grown accustomed to over the years. She doesn’t stand a chance, and she knows it.
But, she won’t go down without a fight. That’s the Taylor I know and love.

I start to walk toward her, taking each step in stride. She shakes her head several
times and raises her hands, palms facing me. Wrong move. I reach for her hand and
clutch it firmly. Nothing in the world can stop me from having this dance with her.
Not even her. I pull her hand gently, but with resolute will, toward me and bow my
head like the gentleman that I am.

“Will you do me the honor?”

Standing up ever so slowly, she casts those wicked, blue eyes of hers toward me, arresting
me with their beauty. “Under one condition,” she whispers to my ear.

She’d run miles away had she known the effect of her warm breath anywhere near my
skin. The touch of her hair on my face fires a jolt of arousal in my groin, and I
don’t know how much longer I can wait to have my way with her.

“What is it?” Now it’s my turn to avoid her gaze, the heat of it so seductive I’m
afraid I’ll just force my lips onto hers. Instead, I breathe in her perfume, J'adore
by Dior. I bought a bottle of the cologne, as soon as I figured out the brand, just
so I can have her smell anytime I want. Only, the scent in the bottle isn’t as intoxicating
as it is on her skin.

“You’ll dance with Valerie afterwards.” She glances down at Valerie, who is eating
her desert, looking oblivious to our conversation.

I nod briefly and lead her slowly to the dance floor, where everyone can see us. I’d
rather have her only for me for our first dance ever, but for now it’ll have to do.

“Let the dance begin.” I hand the microphone back to the singer. The first song is
hand-picked by me; Sinatra’s I’ve got you under my skin and I’m dying to see Taylor’s
response.