Page 15 of Open for Negotiation
I take the stairs carefully, one at a time, as I am wearing much higher heels than I’m used to, but he’s with me at every step, allowing me to lace my arm through his.
When we reach the bottom, he pauses before opening the door, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. My entire body sparks to life, like his touch comes with an electric shock.
“No one can see us here,” he whispers against my mouth before placing another kiss there.
If you had told teenaged Scarlett Hale, the young girl who was crying herself to sleep in her dorm room, as her social media accounts exploded with negativity and hate, that eventually the hate would pass, the pitchforks would be put aside, and she’d be going on a date with the most intense, incredible man she’s ever met in her life just a few years later—she would have called you crazy.
We are settled in his car a few minutes later, the memories occupying my mind entirely, so… small talk it is.
“Tell me something about you,” I say as he pulls onto the freeway.
He glances over at me then back to the road, weaving through traffic with ease, steering with one hand.
“What kind of something?”
“Something I can’t find on your Linkedin profile or on the Fortress website.”
“Well.” He turns slightly to check his blind spot before switching lanes again. “I really hate asparagus.”
I roll my eyes and scoff, “Too simple. Give me the juicy bits.”
“I think you’ve already had my juicy bits.” He purses his lips as soon as the joke leaves his lips.
“Whoa.” I laugh out loud. “I didn’t expect you to say that.”
“It was there, on the tip of my tongue, and it came out before I could stop it. I’m sorry. It was gross.”
“Don’t apologize. It was funny. I liked it.” I begin to play with the ends of my hair. It’s a nervous habit that dates all the way back to being a toddler. “I like seeing this side of you. Not the work side, ya know?”
He nods in understanding. “So, the juicy bits, huh? What kind of juicy bits are you curious about?”
As if on fucking cue, his cell phone begins to ring and Miranda’s name blinks on the screen. The perpetual ex-wife who can’t seem to just go away.
“I mean, that’s pretty juicy, isn’t it?”
“I’m so sorry.” He presses a button on his steering wheel to ignore the call. “I should have put this away earlier.”
“It’s all right.” I wave my hand toward him. “She’s still making things hard on you?”
“I’d say that’s putting it mildly. I hate she’s made such a name for herself in the office for something so awful.”
“Just so you know, everyone knows that it’s not your fault, and if I’m honest, none of us ever liked her anyway.”
“I’d like to say that is coming as a shock to me, but it’s not. She’s definitely not the most pleasant person to be around lately.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask on a whim, knowing the answer.
I’m just trying to make conversation, I want to get to know him on a personal level, but I’m sure the subject of his divorce isn’t something he’d like to linger on when we are together.
“There isn’t much to say about it. She’s making the divorce more difficult than it ever should be, so I’m dealing with it as best I can. Once everything is in the clear, then things should settle for once.”
“I hope so because she makes you a nightmare sometimes,” I tease with a smile, “But sometimes, I like when you get all moody. It’s fun poking the bear.”
“I pegged you for the bratty type.” He smirks.
“Brats do like to be punished. Maybe I am one after all.”
The air is thick between us. Lines drawn in the sand. Boundaries clear. We shouldn’t cross them.
