On Second Thought(66)

There he was, looking bundled up and healthy on a snowfield. No grizzly  bear in sight, unfortunately. He looked...good. Happy. Sunglasses  against the glare, a few days of downy scruff.

I glanced through the blog. He used the word pure a lot. Pure sky, pure  air, pure snow, pure rush. If I still edited his pieces, I'd have fixed  that.

Ah. Here was a mention of me. While I know Sunshine has yet to get over  me, I can't help thanking my guardian angel, Nathan, for setting all  this in motion.

I almost punched the computer. For the love of God! Yes, by all means,  Nathan, well done! I'm sure this was exactly what he intended.

The comments held a surprise-there were only four. The blog had been posted six days ago.

From one of his fraternity mates: Nice pictures, dude!

From his parents (Judy, of course; Aaron wouldn't know how to comment on  a blog): Make sure you're eating right! You could also call sometime!  xox Mom & Dad.         

     



 

From Anonymous: Cool.

From Jeannie8393: I've struggled all my life to lose weight and finally found a supplement that REALLY WORKS!!!

Seemed like Eric's fifteen minutes of fame had expired.

I clicked off the site and checked the magazine's Twitter and Facebook  pages. Jonathan was still on his cell. He opened his door, glanced at  me, did a double take, then went back in, leaving the door open this  time.

I could hear him talking now.

"What did Mommy say? Everyone else was invited? Everyone? Ah.  Well...sometimes people can be thoughtless. I know she's your friend,  sweetheart. But if she didn't invite you... No, no, you're wonderful! It  doesn't make you any less nice. Just her. I know it's her birthday,  but... Oh, Lyddie, don't cry."

Ah, shit. That sweet little girl was getting stiffed by a friend.

"It does sound like a fun party. But maybe you and I can do something  fun on Saturday, too. We could go horseback riding, maybe. No? Okay,  well, we could go to the painting place, how about that? Oh. Okay,  something else, then."

I whipped out my phone and texted Jenny Tate. Any chance you could use  another flower girl model? Six years old. A little friend is having a  bad day.

She responded right away. Sure thing! Can she come about 10?

Yay for Jenny! I scrawled a note on a piece of paper and ran to  Jonathan's office, where he was still trying to find something to  assuage her. "Well, what about a movie? No, you're right, they're very  loud."

I held up the paper. Bliss Bridal Shop needs flower girl models for Saturday at 10.

He scowled at me. "No, Lydia, I can't get you a puppy."

I shook the paper and pointed to the phone. Realization dawned on my boss's face.

"Hold on, Lyddie. Do you remember Ainsley? The fairy house lady? She wants to talk to you."

I grabbed the phone. "Hi, Lydia! How are you, honey?"

"I'm fine, thanks," she said, her sweet voice so small.

"Listen, I was wondering if you could do me a favor on Saturday. Do you  know what a model is? A lady who puts on fancy clothes and gets her  picture taken?"

"Like the ladies on Project Runway?"

I was glad to hear Jonathan's daughters weren't being raised only on  Dickens. "Exactly. Anyway, there's a store that needs little girl  models, and I thought you would be perfect. You'd have to wear a couple  of very fancy dresses and be with a few other girls and look cute and  smile."

"What kind of dresses?"

"The extremely beautiful kind. Like flower girls wear. Or princesses." Jonathan smiled at that, and my ovaries swelled.

"Really?" asked Lydia.

"Really. Will you do it? Pretty please?"

"Okay! Yes! That sounds like so much fun!"

"Great! I'll see you Saturday, then. I'll be at the store."

"Say thank you, Lydia," Jonathan said, raising his voice.

"Thank you, Amy!" the little girl sang. "Mommy, guess wh-"

I smiled at my boss. "She hung up," I said, handing the phone back to him.

"I'll call her later."

"Mean-girl troubles, huh?"

"Yes." He leaned back in his chair, looking at me directly for the first time. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Mr. Kent." I closed the door behind me. Reached up and undid a button on my blouse.

"You planning on seducing me in my office?" he asked, his voice low, eyes on my fingers.

"Yes, Mr. Kent," I said.

"I see lawsuit all over this."

"Deal with it."

I went behind his desk and straddled his lap, held his face in my hands and kissed him.

"Ainsley," he said.

"Check the thing I signed," I said. "It specifically allows workplace  nooky if no one else is here." I paused. "You haven't dated at all since  your divorce, have you?" I asked.

"Are we dating?"

"Yes, Jonathan," I said, rolling my eyes. "You take me out to dinner, we talk, we sleep together. That's dating."

He took my hands in both of his and studied them a few seconds. "And  you're not dating anyone else?" He looked up at me, and there it was,  that little speck of gold in his clear eyes.

"No," I said. "And neither are you."

His smile started in his eyes, and another good bit of my heart was his.

Then I kissed him, and he surprised me by standing up and laying me on  his desk. Papers went everywhere, and the phone fell on the floor.

He didn't seem to mind.

No, he was a little too busy taking off my panties.

* * *         

     



 

Jonathan followed me to Kate's house afterward. She wasn't home, but  Ollie seemed quite happy to see my guest. He put his paws on Jonathan's  knee and used his beautiful brown eyes to good effect until Jonathan  picked him up.

I started cooking-chicken piccata, because Kate loved it. I texted her  that Jonathan was here and we hoped she'd make it home for dinner. She  said she probably wouldn't be back in time. She was in Brooklyn, seeing  Daniel the Hot Firefighter, I surmised.

"She's out with friends," I told Jonathan, getting out the flour and  bread crumbs. "Have a seat. Would you like some wine?" It was nice,  having him here, my goofy little dog sitting on his lap. Ollie was  already fast asleep, snoring slightly. He missed male company.

I busied myself with dinner prep-sliced the lemons, gently pounded the chicken breasts.

"This is very different from your place," Jonathan commented.

"Yeah, well, Nathan was an architect."

"Will Kate stay here, or will she sell the place?"

I lay the chicken in the frying pan. "I don't know. She hasn't mentioned moving."

"It must be hard, being in Nathan's house. His family lives just up the road, don't they?"

"Yeah. Hey, speaking of family, I met someone recently." I covered the  frying pan, adjusted the heat to low, washed my hands, then came over to  sit with Jonathan. "Your brother."

He barely blinked. "Where was that?"

"My dad and I had lunch at Hudson's. I didn't know it was his place."

"Yes."

"He came out to press the flesh, and lunch had been very good, so I  suggested that we review it. Then he told me who he was." Jonathan's  face was tight, but unreadable. "He asked me to tell you something," I  added.

"And what is that?"

"He'd like to see you."

He bent down to put Ollie on his blanket, then sat up straight again.  "I'd prefer not to have this discussion with you," he said. "I-Yes. I'd  prefer not to."

"Okay. I felt like I should mention it." I bit my thumbnail. "Um, I saw him again today."

"Really."

"Yes. When I was getting stuff for the Saturday stroll, he came over to me, he must've seen me through the window, and-"

"Did you tell him we're dating?"

"No."

"I don't want my children to know about you. And he would tell them."

"I didn't say anything."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." I thought so, anyway. No, I was sure.

Jonathan stared out the window. His jaw looked like I could hit it with a  crowbar and end up with a broken piece of metal in my hands.

The mood was broken, that was for sure.

He turned to look at me. "Maybe we should talk a little bit. About...us."

"Sure. Go ahead."

He took a deep breath. "I'm not going to bring my children into this.  They don't need to know I'm seeing someone until...quite a long time  from now."

"Well, they do know me."

"They've met you. They don't know you. You work for me, that's all they  know." He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. "You're fresh  out of a relationship. It could very well be that I'm just a rebound for  you."

"I can think of easier men for a rebound."

"I don't want my daughters to get attached to you if things don't work  out. They've been through a lot of change in the past two years. I won't  do what their mother did and shove a new relationship into their  lives."

Couldn't fault him for that. Still, his verbiage could've been a little nicer. "I understand."