The Casual Rule (8 page)

“Okay, I’ll send them when they’re ready.” His eyes dart over to Ben then back to me. “You know, if it weren’t for Peter, I’d be all over our author friend over there like white on rice. I mean, look at him. He’s perfection. I doubt I’ll have any retouching to do on the photographs. You think he’d do nudes?” he whispers.

I wish.

“You better watch yourself Marcello. Peter hears everything, even when he’s not here.”

“You’re not kidding. My man probably has this place bugged.”

While I’m talking to Marcello, I notice a familiar looking brunette chatting with Ben. Oh yes, the Cheese Shop chatterbox. What did he say her name was...Carmen? No…it was Camille. She’s practically attached herself to his side. She’s wearing a ridiculously short gray knit dress and black leather thigh high boots with five-inch heels. You can tell she spent a fortune on this outfit. Despite the fact that she dresses like a high priced call girl, she reeks of money. I spot her Louis Vuitton bag in the corner where she was standing. Just looking at her, you know that bag is the real deal and not a knock off, like the one I have slung over my shoulder, purchased from one of the sidewalk vendors on Fifth Avenue.

While they’re talking, I catch Ben sneaking glances my way. I can tell by the sour look on her face that she catches it too. She’s not happy. The girl clearly does not like me and hasn’t even met me. What is Ben doing with a girl like this? He said he doesn’t have a girlfriend; maybe this is one of those “casual relationships” he was talking about.

The thought saddens me. He’s unofficially taken…I guess. I’m not sure how girl code works in a casual relationship situation. I’ll have to research that on Wiki later.

Marcello goes back to the business at hand, having Ben stand, sit, look this way, look that way. Ben is a pretty good sport about it. Many of our authors give Marcello a hard time about having their picture taken over and over again. I know it’s boring and time consuming, but you can’t have a cover without the photo. These days, authoring a book is so much more than simply writing it.

I walk back to the corner of the room, leaning on the wall. I cross my arms with one eye on Ben and the other on the brooding brunette. She’s doing the same.

Bitchy
girl games…always fun after a long day at work.

When Marcello finishes, Ben jumps off the barstool and walks over to me. His lapdog friend quickly sidles herself next to him, possessively grabbing hold of his arm.

I’m secretly rolling my eyes. I get it…You want me to think he’s yours.
Funny thing is he doesn’t seem to be the slightest bit interested in you.

“Julia, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Ben says, smiling cordially.

“Vivian asked me to pass by and check out the shoot since it was on my way home. And Marcello is a friend of mine. I visit him when I can.”
I’m also a big fan of lusting after you.

The brunette not so subtly clears her throat.
Relax honey, you’ll get your turn.

“Oh, Julia. This is my friend Camille. Camille, this is Julia. Julia is one of the editors of my book.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she lies.

Camille? More like Cam-eel. The slimy way she slithered up next to Ben in her snakelike fashion, moving side to side going after her prey. I know immediately that she hates me. I can tell. She’s a woman hater. It’s written all over her face. I remember reading somewhere that Moray eels are one of the main predators of other Moray eels. Yes, this girl would definitely take down another woman; especially one she thinks is on the hunt for the man she just attached herself to.

“Camille, it’s very nice to meet you too,” I lie right back. I turn my face away from her and look at Ben. “Well, it looks like everything here is under control. I guess I’ll be going. Good to see you Ben. Camille.” I nod and walk over to Marcello who’s moving the studio lights back to the corner of the room.

“Hey Marcello. I’m going to take off. Don’t forget to email the photos when they’re ready.”

“Will do, Julia.” He glances over at Ben and Cam-eel. “She’s pathetic, isn’t she? So clingy. It’s obvious he has no interest in her at all,” he whispers.

See…that’s what I thought too!

“I don’t know Marcello. It’s none of my business. Give my love to Peter. You both should drop by the apartment sometime. Allie would love to see you.”

“Maybe Allie will pose for me?” He raises a brow.

“Is there even a doubt?” We both laugh.

Marcello kisses my cheek and I turn to leave, taking one last quick peek at Ben.

“Julia, can you wait a minute?” Ben calls out. He whispers something to Cam-eel. She smiles and nods, but I can tell that smile is as fake as most of the breasts in Hollywood. He politely hugs her and kisses her cheek. Her lips are pressed tight as she grabs her Louis Vuitton handbag off the floor. The room echoes with the clicks of her high heels against the wooden floorboards as she walks right past me, barely acknowledging my existence.

Friendly girl. I hope she trips.

Ben walks over to me and smiles. “Can I walk you home?”

“Ah, I guess so. Sure.”

“Okay, I’ll grab my jacket and we’ll go.” He walks across the room, leaving me alone with Marcello. Marcello looks at me with a sly grin, gently nudging me with his shoulder. I shrug, wide eyed.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. I want details tomorrow,” Marcello whispers in my ear.

“Oh, shut up.” I playfully punch his arm but I can’t hide my smile.

Ben walks back with his black leather jacket on, looking hot as usual. “Ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes. I’ll talk to you soon Marcello,” I say as I give him a quick hug goodbye.

“Sooner than you think, Julia,” he teases.

“Marcello, thanks for everything,” Ben says while shaking his hand.

“It was my pleasure, Ben. Take good care of my girl. Julia is one in a million.”

“Yes, she is.” He looks at me and smiles.

He holds the door open for me and we leave the studio. The cold air hits you immediately. Normally, I’d bitch and moan about the temperature, but having Ben so close to me makes it tolerable. I shove my hands in my coat pockets and stare straight ahead, occasionally stealing a quick glimpse of Ben.

“I had a nice time the other night,” he says.

“I did too. Thank you again for dinner.”

“It was my pleasure. How was work today?”

“Good. Busy. Vivian runs a tight ship. How are your rewrites coming along?”

“Just about done.  Then I start research for the next book.”

“What’s that one about?”

“Baseball stadiums, old and new. Their history. That sort of thing.”

“Interesting. Are you going to include a chapter on stadium food?”

“Stadium food?”

“One of the best things about going to a game is the food. Different parks have different specialties. Just think of all the different ways hotdogs are prepared in ballparks across the country and Canada. You could write a whole book just on that.”

He laughs.

I tilt my head and smile. “What?”

“You.”

“What about me?”

“Back to food again. I love the way your mind works.”

“Are you teasing me?”

“Never.” He holds up his hands, pretending he’s surrendering.

“Well, whatever you write, I look forward to reading it.”

“And sending it back to me with redline mark-ups and revision requests?”

“I do have bills to pay. If I don’t send something back, I don’t have a job.”

“So my first book was really perfect?”

I nod with a wry grin. “Yup, I’m just a working girl looking to keep herself employed.”

“I knew it. I’m glad I could help. I wouldn’t want you out on the streets.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that. So…what made you decide to be a writer?”

“It’s all I ever wanted to do. After college, I worked with my father for a few years. I was miserable. Corporate life isn’t for me. I quit my job and never looked back.”

“Was your father upset?”

“He was…less than thrilled. He said I’d never make a living at it. But I have an inheritance from my grandfather’s estate to live off of for a while; I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Well, you’re a very talented writer.”

“Thank you.”

As we’re turning the corner, a shiny silver object catches my attention. I bend down and pick up a quarter. “Here.” I hand it to Ben. He looks at the quarter, then back up at me with a frown. “I remembered you collect coins,” I explain.

“Ah, thanks.” He examines the coin. “Common, but always worth a look. Thank you again. I’ll put it in the donation jar.”

“You have a donation jar? What are you donating to?”

“I donate the random coins I find to the Alzheimer’s Foundation, in memory of my grandfather.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“He couldn’t remember any of my family members by the end of his illness, but he remembered fine details about his coins. Funny the way the mind works.”

 We turn the corner on to Leroy Street. My heart sinks a little; we’re almost home.

“I was thinking of calling you,” he says.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me again….socially.”

“Oh.” Nervously, I look down to the sidewalk.

“Would you?”

“We work together. I edit your work. I’m supposed to be impartial. I don’t know if I could remain impartial if we had a personal relationship.”

“I could always stop writing.”

I shake my head and laugh. “No, you’re too talented.”

“I could switch publishing houses.”

“No, Vivian would fire me.”

“Okay, we’ll do it your way, strictly business.”

“I guess so.”
God,
I’m an idiot.

“Might have been fun,” he says flirtingly, running a knuckle down my forearm.

“I guess we’ll never know.”

“I guess not.”

“Can I ask you something personal?” This has been bugging me since we left Marcello’s.

“Sure,” he says.

“Is Camille one of your…casual relationships?”

“A long time ago,” he answers bluntly.

“Because you don’t do serious relationships.”

“You remembered.” He smiles. “We’re just friends now.”

“I see.”

He cocks his head to the side and frowns. “Why did you want to know?”

“I don’t know. Just wondering, I guess.”
And she was shooting me her death stare all during your photo shoot.

We reach the front door of my building and stop. That went fast, much too fast.

“So,” I say.

“So.”

“Thank you for walking me home.”

“It was my pleasure.” He takes my hand and sweetly kisses the back of it.

I put my key in the door, turning it until I hear the lock click and unlock. I turn back to Ben. He’s so close to me, we’re practically touching. He smells so good, it’s intoxicating.

 “I like your hair like this.” He reaches out and lightly runs his fingers through a few wavy strands. My breath hitches and I briefly close my eyes at his touch. I feel that pull, the energy that crackles between us, it’s so powerful I can almost touch it. I know he feels it too. My eyes focus on his mouth. Oh, those perfect lips

“Thank you again,” I mutter.

He looks at me intensely, his gaze darkening. He runs his index finger down my cheek then lightly traces my lips with his fingertip. My lips slightly part, as I close my eyes and hold in a breath.

He grabs my face with both hands, tilting it up toward him and covers my mouth with a hungry kiss. I respond back immediately, running my hands up his chest until they’re around his neck matching his fervor. His tongue slides into my mouth, twined with mine, dancing, inciting a salacious moan from him. He’s pressing his hips against me, holding me tightly against the door. The feel of his body against mine has every nerve ending in my body tingling.

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have done that,” he breathes as he leans his forehead into mine.

I nod, still breathless. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss Ben. Now that I know, I wish I didn’t. It’s better than I could have possibly imagined.

I peek up at him. I know he’s sincere in his apology. This is the moment where I usually have the good Julia in angelic white on one shoulder and bad Julia in slutty red on the other whispering in either ear, confusing the hell out of me. I shoo them both away and for the first time in my life, I stop thinking and live in the moment.

“Ben?” I murmur as I lift my hand to his hair and sweep it off his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Julia.”

“Just shut the fuck up.” I grab his leather jacket, pulling him close to me, and kiss him. Hard.

Chapter 5

I pull away from Ben, panting. Our eyes fixated on each other, like lions ready to pounce. He swings me over to the side of the doorway and with his free hand turns the door knob, opening the door. Grabbing my hand, he pulls me into the building, closing the door behind him with his foot. He grips the top of my shoulders and pushes me against the wall of the small common area.

He kisses me hard, grinding his pelvis into me. Holy Shit! I realize we’re getting it on in a very public area and reluctantly know what I have to do.

“Ben, we have to stop. We’re putting on a show.”

“What floor is your apartment on?”

“Third.”

“Elevator?”

“Yes.” I take his hand, drag him over to the elevator doors and push the call button. He presses me against the wall while we wait, nuzzling into the crook of my neck with light kisses. His stubble is rubbing up against my jawline. God, I love his stubble. I inhale his Benessence and I know I’m a goner.

The elevator pings and the doors slide open. We step into the elevator, our gazes locked on each other. Ben is on one side, leaning against the wall. I’m leaning on the wall facing him. He pushes the button for the third floor and the doors close. That magnetic pull is in the air, drawing us together. It’s so strong; I can almost touch it. The taste of Ben’s kiss has only increased my appetite for him. I run my index finger lightly across my bottom lip. He swallows as he’s watching me. Every single molecule of my body wants him, desperately. I can tell he has a million things going on in his head right now, and we’re naked in all of them.