The Other C-Word (14 page)

He looked up again, studying me. He finally tilted his head. “The four letter one every woman hates?”

I shook my head. “Cunt?” The shocked expression on his face made me giggle. “That’s an awful word, but not the one I was thinking of.”

“Which word, Marley?”

I shifted my gaze. “It’s not important.” He nodded and we returned to our work.

I put away the last of the catalogues. Before I left, I turned around and stared at him for a minute. He was working quietly, but I knew he was aware of my presence. “The word I was thinking of was ‘commitment’.”

He sighed and looked up at me. “I figured that out a while ago, but thanks for the clarification.” His voice was tight, and there was no warmth in his words. He was angry…with me.

That night I worked late. He played The Guess Who’s
American Woman
. I wondered if it was for me. I loved this song, but right now, the lyrics sounded cruel.

I turned off my monitor and grabbed my purse. I didn’t say goodnight to him. I didn’t want him to walk me out tonight.

* * * *

The next morning, I set his coffee mug down and turned to walk away. He grabbed my arm to stop me. His green eyes were smouldering. “What is your issue? I told you I have to walk you out when you work late. That’s the rule, remember? Or can you not follow rules?”

“I don’t need you to walk me out. Besides you seemed busy with your work and The Guess Who,” I replied indignantly, although it didn’t make much sense.

His irritated gaze didn’t falter. “It’s my hard-and-fast rule, Marley. While you’re with me, I’m going to make sure you’re safe. Do you understand?” He tightened his grip on my arm, and I knew he wouldn’t let go until I answered.

“Yes,” I answered through clenched teeth.

I began to walk away. His voice wrapped around me like a physical presence, blocking my path. “What do you have against The Guess Who? They’re a great band.”

My back was to him so he couldn’t see the melancholy expression on my face, but I was sure he heard it in my voice. “I like them. I didn’t like the song you played last night.”

“Why don’t you like that song, Marley?”

“Never mind,” I snapped.

I almost made it to the door when he uttered the next statement. “It was a bad choice. I’m sorry.”

“Play whatever you want,” I said quietly.

“Marley, let’s pretend the elevator never happened, okay? Or the incident at RJ’s. I can pretend if you can. I think we need to.”
He wants me to forget the elevator escapade and the cell phone calamity?
We would need to add the airport debacle, the Zesty bar controversy, the girlfriend grenade, the skirt scandal, oh and Santana too. It was such a long list.

“Why, Rick?”

“It will make things easier for me…maybe for you too. We could just start over. I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable.”

I swallowed. He was right. It seemed like every instance created more difficulties for us. At one time, we’d had a good working relationship with occasional friendly banter. Now, each moment, contained tense awkward interactions full of hidden lust and longing…on both our parts.

“Deal,” I said, turning around and facing him. He nodded and smiled. It reached his eyes, and I mimicked the response.

“Please, don’t ever leave like that again without letting me walk you down, okay?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

* * * *

Rick and I managed to crack a few PG-rated jokes in the following days, but the tension remained at least PG-13. I worked late a few nights, and he walked me down to my car every time, thanking me for my hard work and telling me to drive carefully as he always did.

The beginning of the next week marked a full month we’d been working together. It was a full month of intimate exchanges, infuriating interactions and lusty stares. It was insane to feel so strongly, considering all he’d ever done was touch my wrist and offer me a few protein bars. I was beginning to think all the episodes of
General Hospital
Stevie forced me to watch were having an adverse effect.

On Wednesday when I brought his coffee, he asked me to pull up a chair. “I want to show you something.” He didn’t look at me when addressing me. This was our new normal—comfortable, but mundane. I wanted to go back to abnormal. I knew it was wrong, but I longed for the times when he’d make a salacious comment or grin wickedly at me.
Sometimes when you get what you wish for, it’s not what you want at all.

I pulled a roller chair next to his so we could both look at the computer screen. He brought up a website and started scrolling through it. It portrayed a cartoonish girl reiterating the benefits of auto insurance. “Rick, I already have car insurance.”

He laughed. “That’s not why I’m showing you this. I wanted to give you an example of the new website layout. We’re completely revamping it”—it was a good idea, considering our website was archaic—“we’re going to have a personal shopper on it. An avatar of sorts. I’ve decided you’re going to be our avatar.”

I stared at him, wondering if I’d heard correctly. “Why me?” Surely Kathy was prettier than I was.

“You have the right look for our product. You’re…spunky.”

Spunky?
Did he just call me spunky? Spunky was someone’s sixty-eight-year-old grandmother who swore occasionally. I would rather he’d called me sexy…or even sassy would have been better.

“Why don’t you hire a professional model?”

He didn’t look up from the screen, but a smile curled on his sensual lips. “Why should I hire a model when I have you?”

“Because you think I’m as beautiful as a model?”
Crap! Did I just say that?
It was so obvious I was fishing for a compliment. Still, I just wanted to hear him say something sweet to me.
Anything!

“Because you’re free,” he replied without turning. I slumped in my chair, feeling a little rejected. He must have sensed it because he shifted his gaze to me. “Come on, Marley, you’re not one of those girls who needs to be told they’re beautiful all the time to feel validated, are you?”

I shook my head. “No, but it’s nice to hear once in a while.”

He leaned across his desk, penetrating me with his glassy eyes. “Why state the obvious?”

When people say their loins burned, I had always thought it was metaphorical, but my loins had actually burned when he’d said that. My mouth became dry, and I made an excuse to get back to my desk.

“A photographer is coming tomorrow to take your photo. He’s going to be taking photos for the investor website, too.”

“What should I wear?” I asked him.

“You’ll be wearing a Henley Inc T-shirt, but wear a skirt too,” he explained, looking back at his monitor. I thought it sounded stupid to wear a T-shirt with a skirt.

“Is it a full-length shot?” The girl on the site was only visible from her waist up.

“No,” he said with finality, and I felt my heartbeat quicken and my body temperature rise. Either I was having a heart attack or Rick was flirting again. Hell yeah—I was a happy girl.

* * * *

I debated my wardrobe choice a great deal. I wanted Rick to admire my legs, but at the same time I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that he could dictate what I would wear. I didn’t want him to know just how much I wanted him. In the end, I chose khaki’s and combat boots. Stevie stuck her tongue out at me, but I ignored her. I liked wearing skirts and not just because Rick enjoyed them. Today though, I didn’t feel like a skirt.

Rick didn’t comment on my wardrobe. I was ushered into the conference room right away where a makeup artist worked on my face. Rick came in and shook his head in dismay. “She doesn’t need that much makeup. She’s naturally beautiful.” I was glad the makeup woman was hovering over me, so he couldn’t see my face. At this point, I would definitely not need any blush.

I sat in the studio in front of a green screen while the photographer adjusted me. He was a young guy with a tribal neck tattoo, shoulder length blond hair and watery blue eyes. “Don’t be nervous, sugar. My name is Alex, and I lucked out today. You’re going to make my job very easy.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Because I’m going to enjoy taking your picture.”

I grinned stupidly as he adjusted a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“I’m not paying you to manhandle our employees,” Rick growled behind Alex.

“Relax man, I’m just tweaking her for the best shot,” Alex replied, not moving away from me.

“You’ve tweaked her enough. Take the damn picture.” Rick’s voice was commanding, and I could see the alpha male interaction between the two men. The hostility was palpable.

Alex took my photos, and Rick watched him like a hawk. He rolled his eyes every time Alex spoke a direction to me. “You sure are photogenic, sugar.”

“Yes, we all know she is. That’s why I picked her,” Rick replied through gritted teeth. It was almost comical to see the two men side by side, both staring at me. I had to admit, they were both extremely hot, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t turned on. Rick would have won any contest easily, but it was surreal to have them both look at me at the same time. Alex stood behind a camera, capturing me at every angle, mouthing words of praise every time I moved into a pose. Rick’s eyes darted between Alex and me, as if he couldn’t decide whether he’d rather scowl at Alex or stare intently at me.

When it was over and I was getting ready to leave, Alex approached me while Rick was studying the film. “I really dig those combat boots. It takes a special girl to pull that off.”

“Thanks,” I said looking down. He was wearing boots too.

“This is my card. I take adult photographs. I have a studio downtown. It’s all very artistic, and I’d love if you’d consider posing for me. It pays well.”

“What do you mean by adult photographs?”

Alex smiled sheepishly. “Nudes.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I replied, staring at the card he shoved in my hand.

“Just think about it, okay? I’ll show you my work. It’s well received. I promise it’s not tawdry, and you would have complete control in how much you wanted to show.” He clasped my hand in both of his, crushing his card.

“Are you trying to poach my employee?” Rick snapped, appearing from nowhere. He moved into the small space between Alex and me.

“Relax man, it’s just an after-work gig,” Alex explained, which seemed to have the opposite effect of relaxing Rick.

“Moonlighting is not allowed by this company.”

I walked away back to my desk, letting them finish their pissing contest without me. Was Rick jealous? It was confusing because I thought when he’d played
American Woman
it had been a signal. He was the one who’d asked me to forget about everything, after all. He had complimented me the other day, but only because I’d shamefully coaxed it out of him.

I walked into Rick’s office to drop off the invoices for Alex’s studio on his desk. Rick stormed in a few minutes later.

“Give me that card, Marley,” he demanded.

“What?”

“Give me the fucking card that guy gave you.”

I was behind his desk, and I stepped farther away from him. He moved closer to me.

“Why? I think you’re wrong. It’s not against any rules to moonlight.”

“I don’t care what you think. I want that card. He was flirting with you.”