I don’t really care if he made the basketball team or the underwater basket weaving team. I wouldn’t be caught dead in the stands of either to cheer him on, but I like the thought of distracting him several times throughout the game with the prospect of seeing me there.
A wicked grin rides up my cheeks. Don’t feel too bad for him. He deserves it. And, in about five minutes, I’ll have the satisfaction of envisioning him in Founder’s Square, with a five-foot snow bank ensconcing him on either side. I like the idea of Will freezing his nuts off in anticipation of my company. It may be a shallow attempt at getting him back, but, hey, it’s a start—and, if he simply goes away, a most successful end. I’m not really that motivated to go all Fatal Attraction on him. The bunnies of Hollow Brook can rest easy for now.
The doors whoosh open, and the not-so-subtle scent of men’s cologne, the scent of testosterone, permeates the air like an extravagant buffet of virility and domination. World domination. It’s a man’s world, and we’re just living in it. I smirk as I spot an entire bevy of suits and not a skirt in sight. I suppose that’s just fewer women to ogle Wyatt.
Wyatt. That dull smile rides up my cheeks again as he comes to mind. I can’t wait to get our little sexcapades underway. I just love this new in control version of myself. The me of three months ago was simply a hollow shell of who I’ve become. A vision of myself stupidly holding those velvet cuffs, scalding tears staining my face as Will relayed to me (over the phone because evidently that’s how cowards do it) how he might have had an indiscretion or two. He was simply confirming what I heard from Cat Alice.
Cat. I shake my head. I can just see her gloating face. She’s always wanted Will for herself. I’m sure she’s wasted no time in cozying up to him although she denies it. I know that barb Will tossed at me, that first night at the Black Bear, about burying himself inside her simply isn’t true. I stagnate on the thought. Is he into her? Cat Alice is tall, like Amazonian tall. Beautiful but beauty like hers can be purchased at any Sephora counter across the country. She swears she doesn’t have lip injections—that she’s just “very good with make up.” But we all see past the smoke and Botox-inflated mirrors. Her mother is an avid believer in if God didn’t give it to you give it to yourself!
Ah, the crazy days when Cat Alice and I used to troll the mean streets of Walleye. She was always the wild one, experimenting with boys far too early, knocked-up far too early. She lost that one, by the way. And then, of course, bitter far too early. In hindsight, she might have been the smart one. She excised love from her vocabulary long before I did. While I was pining for Will, setting my net and capturing Will, getting cheated on by Will, she parted her legs for anyone who looked twice in her direction. I know for a fact she’s always had a thing for Will, but then Cat Alice has had a thing for just about anyone. But, now that they’re both at Whitney Briggs, I suppose the inevitable is about to happen.
My stomach sours. I hate that the thought of Will with Cat Alice has the ability to make me sick. I think I’d almost prefer him with just about anybody else. And, worse than that, I hate that deep down they both still have the power to hurt me.
I take a deep breath and give a confidant knock against Wyatt’s door.
“Come in.” His strong voice vibrates through to my bones and warms me.
Wyatt stands and greets me with that mega-watt grin of his, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve just been caught off guard and swallowed whole. I kind of like the thought of swimming inside of Wyatt—getting to know him from the inside out. All thoughts of Will and Cat Alice scatter like pigeons as I step in and close the door behind me.
Wyatt’s broad shoulders pull back. He’s decked out in a dark, inky suit with a slick silver tie that reflects the light just so. His dark hair is slicked back. He’s fresh shaven compared to the slightly stubbled look I’ve grown accustomed to on him. His eyes shine a bright shade of sea glass, with a mixture of lust, hope, and elation blooming from their nexus. I’m sort of hoping I’m the reason for the latter three.
“Are you trying to impress me?” I give an impish grin as I take a seat. I have my notepad and pen ready to go. I plan on getting the low-down on exactly what the job entails, not to mention giving him the details of the job I have laid out for him, emphasis on the laid.
“Is that how they teach you to greet your boss in the morning?” He scoots into the seat in front of me. He’s teasing but a part of him seems curious.
“How, pray tell, did the other scullery maids greet you? Let me guess. Good morning, Sire! How would you like your java brewed? Excuse me while I grind your coffee beans with the heels of my stilettos.”