Shattered Heart (3 page)

Thx 4 paying tab BUT NO THX!!! WHO DO U THINK U R?

Take that!

Arriving back at my apartment building, I storm into the lobby, only to find our kind night security guard. “Evening, Ms. Jensen. Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine, George thanks for asking. Just a little ticked off.”

“Excuse me for saying so but I can tell. Sure hope I haven’t done anything to upset you.” Looking at this man who has been nothing but helpful to me, I shouldn’t take out my mood on him. “No, just a message I received earlier.”

I feel my phone vibrate as I step into the elevator. Poor George probably thinks I have flipped my lid, as I mumble about leaving a phone number for me, you have got to be kidding. I am still fuming as I unlock my door. I know who that message is from and I just can’t wait to answer it.

You are most welcome. Houston Donovan

Well, Houston Donovan u have some nerve!!!

Meaning?

Meaning!

Meaning leaving your phone number as if I want to thank you for paying my tab. I don’t know who you usually pay bar tabs for and what you get in return for that but you have the wrong person if you think I am … Oh, Oh, Oh YOU ARE JUST TO MUCH!!!

Shouting not necessary. A simple thank you would have worked.

Thank you! Thank you! Oh goodness you have got to be kidding. I turned my phone off and put it on the charger, take that Mr. Houston Donovan. As I stepped into the shower, my thoughts remained on Houston but that long hot shower helped calm me.  That night my dreams were filled with dark haired men and shouting texts.

Chapter 5

Damn woman. Shouting at me through a text. However, after that little exchange, I sure wouldn’t mind hearing her be vocal in person. She seems to be a spitfire. That is just what I need in my life, a little fire.
I push away from my desk and lean back in my chair. Standing, I walk into and across the living space, sliding back a panel in what looks like a wall of glass. I remember now why I put off coming down here, damn heat. I close it. I’m edgy tonight.

“Nash.”

In response to my text, Nash walked into the room just as I rack the balls for a game of pool. Reading my mind, he picks his stick. It’s game on. We play our usual two out of three with Nash winning easily tonight.

“What’s wrong Hugh?”

“Restless, I suppose

“Really? Nothing personal man but the Houston Donovan I know wouldn’t have come home alone tonight which I’m assuming you did since we have shot two games of pool.”

“Come home alone? Me? No, I didn’t but she’s gone. I sent her home not long after we got here. She was a red head, a fake one at that, not my thing.” My remark stops Nash in his tracks. He looks at me with his left eyebrow raised, head cocked just a little to the right in what I’ve learned to interpret as his what the hell look. Without commenting, he continued on to the fridge, grabbing two beers, opening both on his way back to the table. “Nice to know you feel at home here,” I say to Nash as he leans against the table.

“Hugh, give it up man! We’ve known each other for what twelve, thirteen years?”

“About that.”

“I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen you send a woman away.”

Taking a long drink from my bottle, I finally break the silence, “I’ve got a number I want verified. It’s on my desk.”

“Tonight or in the morning?”

“Morning’s fine but by eight”

“No problem”

“Oh and Nash, I need you to do it.” We stood there leaned against the table just looking out into the Miami night.

Breaking our silence, “By the way, what was in that yellow bag?”

Shaking his head, “Not much. Typical woman stuff, along with what looks like a hard copy of a pretty good presentation for The Blaine Company.

Walking over to the window, I continued to stare into the vast nothingness. The Blaine Company. Hum. I might need to do something about that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joan enters my office with some items for me along with a small package. Looking up, as I say “Thanks Joan. Just sit it down, I ‘ll get to it in a minute.”

“Ok, by the looks of your desk, I think I’ll just sit this stuff in this chair.” Jokingly she adds, “If you ever want to see it.”

Smiling, I wave my hand “out, out. Looking at my desk, she is right, it is a mess but developing a project for the philanthropist, J. Elliot Miltman requires a no holds barred presentation. If this gathering is as successful as we hope then his executive retreat might be our next step. That would mean Supreme Corporate Travel would have an excellent advantage over other companies for later excursions. J. Elliot will receive proposals for his elaborate gathering of friends/company executives from across the globe beginning in early August. Each year’s retreat is held at a different worldwide venue. Since, next year’s gathering will be hosted at his estate on the Keys in late spring our concept centers on the wealth and decadence of the 1920s. With a wrap of the weekend being a costume party based upon movies from the era when men were men as the saying goes. I feel really good about this proposal. I should, I’ve spent untold hours on it.

Deciding to take a break, I open the mail Joan dropped off in my chair. Picking up the package I examine it. No return address. I’ll have to remember to ask her about the delivery.  As I open the envelope, I discover the contents. Taking it out, I begin to tremble.                            As I lay it back inside, I begin yelling, “You have got to be kidding! He has some nerve!”

Both Lana and Joan burst into my office. Lana looks at me and asks, “Is everything alright?”

Almost yelling, “No everything is not all right!” Look inside. I jerk up my phone as Lana cautiously approaches. Joan is taking all this in with a look of confusion. She has never heard neither, Lana or I yell, much less at each other. My dear friend Lana, carefully reaches into it, I can tell she is almost afraid of what she will lift out. When she raises her hand, she laughs. “OMG, it’s just a very large chocolate bar”. I snarl at her, “Look in it again”. This time Joan comes over, picks up the package, pulls out a small card with two things handwritten on it, a phone number along with a smiley face. “What in the world?” Turning it over, looking at the back and rubbing the texture of it. “Charli, do you know this number?”

I don’t respond as I jerk up my cell phone, and type      
U Must be joking?
hit send.

“Yes, I know that number.”

I recognized Lana’s crossed arms stance, she isn’t going anywhere until I explain. With confused looks on their faces, they listen to how this whole thing started. I omitted that we had been exchanging texts two or three times a day since.

“Charli, that was two weeks ago when we were at Billy’s.” As Lana comments Joan chirps in with, “This isn’t the first envelope she has received, right Charli? I am pretty sure she has gotten the same package every other day this week.”

“Well, he might be interested but believe me I am not! Who leaves their phone number like he did unless they’re wanting one thing and only one thing- sex? I’ll tell you who, a man that is so egotistical that he thinks women will drop at his feet. Namely one Houston Donovan. Now, I don’t have any idea what your desk looks like but you can see mine and that should tell you, I have work to do.” Both, Lana and Joan look at me as if I am crazy, turn and walk out the door. Joan said, “I wonder who that might be?” as my phone buzzes, with an emoticon of a smiling face.  My response is a frowning face. I put my phone in my bag. I don’t want to deal with him. I have work to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Needing a brief break, I walk out into our outer office just as a package arrives. I sign for it, look at the name and realize it’s for me. The return address on this wrinkled envelope I am holding is causing me to hesitate opening it. I have a decent idea what will be in it though. I am being dishonest with myself. I have no idea what is in the package, but I am pretty sure it will have a phone number and a stupid smiley face. Returning to my office, I sit down behind my cluttered desk and lean back in my chair. I turn the manila envelope in my hands examining it thoroughly. What am I doing? I don’t back away from things. Using my letter opener to attack the packing tape it’s sealed with, I finally reach the contents. With some trepidation, I reach in and pull out a small, lightweight book. No, it’s not a book but more of a journal. Not a journal because it has a title. Listen to me rattling on. The title just sets me off.

Communication Techniques

A Manual for the Socially Weary Female

He has some nerve! I am yelling as both Lana and Joan enter. Lana looks at me and asks, “Is everything alright?” Throwing my hands in the air I respond, “I wish everyone would stop asking that. Do I sound alright? No everything is not all right! “Look at this thing!” As I stick the journal/book out at them. Being brave, Joan reaches out and removes the reprehensible thing from me.

“It is beautiful. Charli, look at this cover.”

“You may think it is beautiful Joan but I think it is horrible. From a man that is just as irritating. Get that thing out of my sight!”

As straight faced as she could possibly be, Joan handed the thing to Lana. Lana looked at it, turned it over and examined the back of it.  If Lana knew what was good for her, she wouldn’t do what that mischievous grin was preparing me for. She opened her mouth and not a word came out. What did come out was a howl of laughter that broke my barrier down.

The next thing I knew we were all laughing so hard that if someone had entered the outer office they would have mistaken us for escapees from the happy farm. Wiping the tears away from our faces, I looked at them and suggested we all get back to work. My phone pinged. I ignored it. It pinged again. I ignored it again. My phone rang, guess what I did? I ignored it. I didn’t want to be disturbed so it went to voice mail. I muted it and went back to work. I was putting together the presentation for the Miltman Affair weekend and needed to remain focused.

As I stuff my laptop into my bag, I look over my desk to make sure I have everything. I look at the book. Jerking it up, I stuff it into my bag, shaking my head in wonderment as to why I am bothering to take it home with me. Knowing those two busy bodies that skulk around the office, I will never hear the end of it. Hopefully, out of sight-out of mind. Who am I kidding? I love those two even if they really do irritate me beyond no end.

Chapter 6

Escaping the workday out the back door, I walk over to my good old Ford. Well, It’s actually only a couple of years old. Somehow it just sounds right to say that. I suppose that is the Midwest girl that I thought was buried deep down within breaking out. Just about the time I open my car door, the back door to our building closed.

“Hey.”

Squeezing my eyes tight I’m willing myself to remain calm.

“Wait a sec. I have a quick question.”

Putting my yellow bag in the back seat, I stand there for just about a minute, before I turn around. “What is it Lana?”

“Did you get your reading material for tonight?”

“What? What reading material? I’m not taking any work home with me, tonight. My plans are actually vegging out in front of the TV.”

“You know, your new reading material to help with your communication techniques,” she laughingly replies.

Sharing my death ray glare with my dear friend, “I tell you what, Missy, when I finish it, how about I loan it to you? We can compare our notes on what revelations we garnered from it.”

“Ha! Ha! Very funny. I’ve never had a man complain about my communication skills. “As if it just hit her I am standing beside my car,” Hey, I didn’t know you drove today. What’s up with that?”

She’s managing me again. Nodding my head and patting the roof, “Yep, as you can see I sure did. I just felt like it this morning but now I wish common sense had taken over and prevented me from doing something stupid like driving.”

Sounding like some kind of broken record, huffing just a little, “That’s about the only thing I dislike here. People are crazy drivers.”

Putting one hand on her hip, Lana just stood there without saying much. “I don’t drive here so I have no comment. Hey, by the way, feeble attempt at changing the subject.”

“Seriously, he must be attracted. I doubt he would still be contacting you if he wasn’t.” Walking over to the car as I sit down, “Yeah, I know. Did you see him, Lana? He is gorgeous.”

“Honey, that doesn’t describe him. He is H-O-T. Heck, I’m attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be?”

“I don’t know something just doesn’t feel right. Men that look like him don’t go for women that look like me.”

“You didn’t always feel that way, Charli.” Suddenly, I felt as if the weight of the world had just dropped onto my shoulders. It must have shown on my face. Lana asked, “Have you talked to him, at all?”

“Nope. Don’t intend to,” as I wipe a tear from my eye.

“Well, alright then. Enough said.”

Lana possesses some sixth sense and seems to know just when I need a hug. Holding her arms out, “Come here you.”

“Thanks.” I turn around get into my car. “See ya tomorrow,” I say as I close the door.

I stopped by Lana’s office the next morning catching Joan in there as well. “Good morning, ladies. How’s the world treating you this fine morning? I saw that! You two looking like I’ve lost my marbles. Can’t a woman be in a really, really good mood in the morning?”

At almost the same time, I heard “No” then Joan answered “Well not you anyway.” Lana must have realized how that sounded because she jumped in with, “Charli Jensen, I have known you for almost fifteen years and you have never in all that time been a morning person, not one time. What’s up?”

Raising my right hand, “I swear nothing is up. I just slept really, really well last night. Hey, what about a drink after work today? Besides I really owe the two of you an apology for all my bitchiness lately.”

“I don’t know why you think you owe us any apologies, Charli, that’s just who you are,” Lana said smiling.

Scrunching my forehead as if I was confused and placing my hand on my chest, “Who says I should be the only one apologizing, Lana?”

“All three of us have been working really hard lately, Lana replied. Joan agreed we had been working exceptionally hard but it is also beginning to pay off. “I think we could all use a couple of drinks, just to relax.”

“I’m up for a drink tonight minus the shop talk. What about you Lana? Joan?”

“OK, Charli, you’re right about needing some “girl talk” time. We all three need to remember to enjoy this time in our lives,” Joan replied smiling.

Our business reputation is growing right along with our funds.  Granted landing The Blaine Company’s account, would have helped us really get our name out there more but we haven’t done bad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ok ladies, lets get out of here and get our girl groove on, I say as I walk out to the front, where Joan is tap, tap, tapping away oh her keyboard. She looks up, “Give me about ten minutes.”

I poke my head into Lana’s office, I mouth ten minutes when I realize she is on her cell. My phone is dancing the cha-cha across my desk as I enter my office. “Aren’t you going to answer that?” I shake my head at Lana as she walks into the room.

“Let’s see the first round must be work related because we just booked Atwood Aviation.” Swallowing hard, I just looked at her. Lana knows how I feel about planes.             

Closing my laptop, “Let’s lock up and get out of here.”  Meeting in the lobby, we stood discussing the pros/cons of the places around us, we decide Chester’s. It’s one of those national chains that has a restaurant/ bar combo. After a brief, actually very brief discussion, we agreed to walk the three blocks. We each headed back to our desks to change shoes. Walking might justify some nachos/cheese that Chester’s was known for.

”Let’s go ladies, my stomach is rumbling.” Since we can’t all walk side by side, I step back letting Joan and Lana out first. I lock up, turn around and
stop dead in my tracks.

There he is. Mr. Darn Good Looking Donovan in all his glory propped against a navy SUV that probably costs more than what I made last year. His arrogance radiates from him. No arrogance isn’t the word, it’s more like
haughty. Eureka! That’s it. Haughtiness. Never in a million years, would I admit this to him but damn any man that looks like him has good reason to be arrogant along with haughty.
It’s his stance- hands tucked into his pockets, jacket unbuttoned, tie loosened, legs crossed at his feet, and topping it off were those piercing eyes peering at me over his black aviator sunglasses. There is only one word to describe him, HOT.

Slightly nodding his head, “Ms. Jensen, Ladies.” The way he just said my name drips sex. I could throw him down, and devour him in the middle of this street.

“Mr. Donovan,” I say without showing any emotion. The girls are looking back and forth between the two of us. I will absolutely kill them if either one of them says a word or makes a sound.

“May I have a word?”

I shake my head slightly, turn away and begin walking. I try to gracefully stomp (can you stomp gracefully?) past the girls leaving them behind hustling to catch up. I can’t believe him.

“Ah, Charli what would a “word” hurt?”

If looks could kill, I think my best friend would at least be falling to the ground with a death pallor consuming her.

“Lana who the hell says that? Just tell me?”

She stops, looks back, looks at me and mumbles with just a hint of a smile, “Ah, apparently Mr. Donovan?”

“Lana, you aren’t going to shut up are you?”

Joan pipes in with a “If she shuts up, I’ll start in.”

I close my eyes, take a deep breath and turn around. Lord, he is delicious. Retracing my steps back to stand in front of him, he gives me that smile. If I didn’
t know any better, I would swear my panties just melted away.

“Yes, Mr. Donovan?

“Houston.”

“Mr. Donovan, is that the word you wanted to have with me? Let me see if I understand this, all the time we have been texting, all you really wanted to discuss is how I should address you? Ok, we’ve established that so I’ll be off.”

Turning, he gently touches my arm, “I really don’t think so.”

follow his gaze as he looks down the sidewalk beyond Lana and Joan. What’s he looking at?

“Where were the three of you off to?”

“Chester’s Bar and Grill. Why?”

Walking the ten or so steps over to the girls, he has a brief word and the three of them return.

“We’ll give the three of you a lift to Chester’s.”

Giving them my wrinkled nose face, all three of them could interpret its meaning. Sheepishly, Lana explained, “I didn’t want to tell you but my feet are hurting. The thoughts of walking three blocks was making them hurt even more. Mr. Donovan has offered us a ride. I agreed.”

Looking over at Joan, “I agreed also, Charli.”

I would feel silly walking by myself so I give in.

Before Joan can open the front door, the driver comes around getting it for her.

“Nash, we’ll drop the ladies at the Chester’s Bar and Grill just down the street.”