Chosen Heart (42 page)

With Barney and Oliver leading
the way, we walk towards the front door side by side.  A giggle escapes as
I become conscious of the predicament I’ve put myself in.  Wearing two
hats all the time is exhausting; I don’t know how Alex does it.  One
moment I’m Elyssa Hart, Sales Executive at Salerno Health, playing the role of
a studious employee.  The next, I’m Elyssa Hart, girlfriend to sex God,
Alexander James.  Problem is, I’m not always aware of what character Alex
is playing, and that in itself is very confusing. 

Sometimes, my heart doesn’t seem
to understand the limitations I’ve set.  For instance, as we walk in the
door, my heart wants to reach out and grip Alex’s elbow, to hold him close and
caress the lean muscles under his dress shirt.  But, my mind, along with
Alex’s odd gaze, makes the decision for me.  Reluctantly slinking back,
I’m forced to cease and desist. 
Damn mind, why can’t you leave me be?

As we approach the entrance, Alex
absentmindedly holds the door open allowing me to walk in front of him, not
bothering with any semblance of caring.  I’m not sure if it’s the tension
or the flurry of emotions, but I have to blink a few times to stop the angry
tears from forming. 
Stop it, Ely!  You know he cares for
you.  He has two hats to wear, too.

Walking into the dark bar, the
pressure from the surround sound is a bit much.  I can feel the bass in
the pit of my stomach, and not in a good way.  But, not wanting to damper
anyone’s mood, I quickly adapt, immersing myself into the fun and carefree
atmosphere.  Pushing through the crowd of huddled people catching up with
one another, we now have a perfect view of the couches surrounding the karaoke
area.  Our animated Bostonian colleagues are already completely engrossed
in conversation as they raise their glasses, laughing full
heartedly.  

With his hands remaining at his
side, Alex leans over and whispers in my ear, “I’m going to get us
drinks.”  His light breath tickles, arousing the ache that has built since
dinner.  I clench my lips together and nod.  The need to feel his
hand on me is more than I can take.  In this moment, the simple brush of
his hand against my skin would be enough to send me over the edge. 

Instead, I watch Alex retreat to
the bar, and I’m left alone.  For a brief moment, I feel awkward in the
noisy crowd.  But, before I can get caught up in my own self pity, a
sturdy hand catches me off guard, dragging me over to the seating area. 
Pulling myself away from Oliver’s grip, he laughs at my discomfort, gesturing
for me to follow him towards a love seat.  As I take my seat, Oliver plops
down next to me with a large contagious grin stamped on his face.  I can’t
fight the urge to smile back at him.  Oliver has a masculine quality, but
his boyish charm is hard to resist.  Unlike Cole, who is just immature,
Oliver is definitely a man, but a man with boyish tendencies. 

“I really didn’t want to come
tonight,” he admits, leaning over so he doesn’t have to yell.  “Karaoke
has never been my thing.”

“Why did you change your
mind?” 
Please, please, please say it has nothing to do with me.

“You.” 
Crap!
  I
blush.  “Plus, anything to piss off Mr. Hoity-Toity James.”  Here we
go again.  This constant rivalry between Alex and Oliver is
nauseating.  I don’t understand how two men who are polar opposites, yet
have the same endearing qualities, can be so competitive.  Of course, they
are both extremely attractive and can probably have anyone they want, but why
the animosity.  Alex is accomplished in the corporate world and Oliver
doesn’t seem to be struggling for business, either.  I’m completely
baffled.

“Why don’t you like Mr.
James?”  I tilt my head looking at Oliver’s side profile as he laughs and
claps for the two Bostonians, who have taken the stage.

He peeks over at me before
answering.  “It’s not that I don’t like him,” pausing a moment, Oliver
tilts his head in thought.  “Well, actually yah, it’s cause I don’t like
him.”  I chuckle. 
At least he’s honest.
  “I don’t know
how to explain it.  He’s so uptight and arrogant.  He acts like he
owns the world…including his employees.  Doesn’t it bother you that he
treats you like a possession?” 

“Me?” I ask, flabbergasted. 
If you only knew how much he does own me, heart and soul, we wouldn’t be
having this conversation.
 

“Yes, you.  I don’t
understand how you can work with someone like that.  The way you address
him, you’d think he was fifty years old.  He does have a first name, doesn’t
he?  Plus, I think he’s a total piece of shit.” 
Whoa, where did
that come from?  Really, a piece of shit?  That’s harsh. 
“He
doesn’t deserve his position at SHI.”  Oliver is clearly irritated,
distain etched into every word.  Wow, this is more deep rooted than I
would have ever imagined.  But, it still doesn’t explain the tension
between the two of them. 

“Barney is looking for you,
Prescott,” Alex interrupts our conversation, handing me a drink. 
Anxiously standing in front of me, he waits for Oliver to rise. 
Trust
me Oliver; you don’t want to play this game with him. 

Oliver stands, but before he
slinks away, he reaches down and kisses my hand.  “Always a pleasure,
Elyssa.” 

Clearly agitated, Alex stares
ahead, filling the now vacant seat.

“Hi,” I smile, hoping to lighten
the mood.

“Hi,” Alex mutters as his forearm
brushes against mine, sending goose bumps up my arm.  His fist is clutched
around his beer bottle. 
My poor insecure heart; he’s getting worked up
over little ole’ Oliver. 
I want to soothe him, tell him there’s
nothing to worry about, that I love him and only him.  But, I refrain from
making any physical contact knowing the implications if I did.  Instead, I
continue to will him to look at me.  Once he does, my persistent smile
remains until I see his knuckles return to his normal skin tone. 
Crisis
averted.
 

Thankfully the Bostonians are in
full swing, refocusing Alex’s attention.  Already drunk as can be, they
are singing a dreadful rendition of Backstreet Boys,
I Want it That Way.
 
Alex and I laugh in unison, the vibration of his rumble is contagious and the
tension from earlier is slowly fading away.  They bow as the song ends and
the bar erupts in applause.  As awful as that was to listen to, I would
hate to follow their exuberance on stage.

Grabbing the mic, the D.J. asks
the crowd to give another round of applause to the Backstreet Bostonian
Boys.  After the noise level drops, the D.J. continues, “Next, please
welcome to the stage, Alexander James.”  My mouth drops open.  He’s always
so reserved.  I never would have imagined that he would sing in front of a
large group of people, let alone any business colleagues.  I gape at him
as he rises from his seat.

Softly he whispers in my ear, “I
had to get your attention somehow.”  I sigh. 
Oh Alex, you always
have my attention. 

As he walks towards the stage, I
catch Oliver on my right rolling his eyes again.  Shaking his head in
annoyance, he leans over and begins a conversation with one of the guys from
Boston.  I purse my lips, shaking my own head in annoyance at his lack of
subtlety, before returning my attention back to the stage.  Back to my
heart. 

Approaching the D.J., Alex
inquires about something, before the D.J. nods his head in agreement.  My
eyes follow the silent answer as Alex grabs the guitar and returns to the
center of the stage, taking a seat on the lonely stool.

As he tunes the guitar, he sits
bent over, strumming each string separately until it’s pitch-perfect. 
Watching him like there’s no one else in the room, it takes me a minute to
notice it has gotten eerily quiet as the twang of the strings draws the
attention of the entire bar. 

At his own leisure, and seemingly
not paying attention to anyone else, Alex stands and removes his suit
jacket.  Throwing it onto the empty seat next to me, he has officially
marked his claim.  He is painfully handsome in his black slacks, blue
button up shirt and black vest. 
Oh my; what that vest does to me…
 
Hugging his torso, it accentuates his perfect build and svelte waist. 
Rolling his sleeves to his elbows, he stares into my longing eyes as he returns
to his stool.  Trying to contain the anticipation and desire, I bite my
lip and watch while his breath hitches.

The soothing melodic sound coming
from Alex’s lips is indescribable.  If I wasn’t already sitting, his deep,
masculine voice would bring me to my knees.  His acoustic rendition of
James Morrison’s
You Make it Real
has moved me to tears.  With his
head hung low and his eyes glued shut, he clings to the guitar like a lifeline. 
Focused only on the words, I momentarily close my eyes, basking in the music
and the words aimed directly at me. 

Even though he’s been indifferent
since dinner, showing no emotion towards me at all, I know this is his way of
professing his feelings for me.  Although public, his declaration is
discrete.  And perfect.

Boisterously loud,
my
moment is disrupted by a woman sitting two seats away, squirming in her
seat.  I heard her a few moments ago, but I was so entranced by the
melodies, that I thought I had been successful in tuning her out.  Sadly,
she continues to make inappropriate comments about Alex singing to her from
between her thighs, and I can’t help the thunderous feeling bubbling under my
skin.  And unfortunately, there isn’t just one of them.  Before I
turn to glare in their direction, their witchy cackles cause me to
flinch.  Damn.  I thought men were inappropriate, but these women are
clearly in heat. 

“Wooohooo you can sing for me
anytime!”  Irritation builds as she resumes the laughter with her
girlfriends.  They raise their glasses, toasting to the beautiful man on
stage.  “To the fine piece of ass, may he use his mouth for more than just
singing.” 

Little do they know, nor do they
probably care, that he’s completely spoken for.  Noticing my fixed stare
the group huddles close together to continue their banter.  With a roll of
my eyes, I turn back around.  They don’t deserve my time.  Of course
other women find him attractive, Alex is the ultimate – a body made for sin, lips
that carry the voice of an angel, and a mind to keep any woman intellectually
stimulated.  He is absolute perfection, and he is mine! 

Focusing my attention back on the
stage, I wipe my tear pooled eyes as Alex sings the last verse.  Finally
raising his eyes, he makes contact with mine and the beginning of our night no
longer matters.  Regardless of the throng of people surrounding us, in
that moment, it’s just the two of us as we look longingly at each other. 
Our own peaceful moment in the sea of a hundred strangers.

I clap vigorously, but realize my
applause is nothing compared to the whistles and yells from the rest of the
bar.  After returning the guitar, Alex strides back towards the empty seat
where his jacket currently lies.  The crowd disperses, but not before
patting him on the back, giving him praise. 

“James, I never knew you could
carry a tune.  You definitely missed your calling,” Barney yells from
across the bar, raising his beer up to congratulate him.  Holding up his
hand, Alex accepts Barney’s compliment as he claims his seat next to me.

“That was…amazing,” I
smile.  “The song was…”  I shy away, turning my head.  I’m like
an open book; anyone here can read how I’m feeling.  With so many prying
eyes I would hate to jeopardize our isolated relationship by giving away too
much. 

“It was for you.”  I bite my
lip to hide my growing smile as I return my gaze upon him.  He isn’t
hiding any emotions any more.  Even if he can’t physically show me, I can
feel his love.

My eyes search the crowd surrounding
us, hoping that our private conversation is unnoticeable.  “Alex…you have
to be careful.  What if someone notices?” 

Tilting his head in Oliver’s
direction, Alex fumes.  “I had to get your attention.  Oliver was
practically humping your leg…again.”  A giggle escapes my lips before I’m
able to cover my mouth. 

Needing to feel his touch, I
brush my finger against the top of his hand for just a brief second, before
placing my hands back into my lap.  “Alex, you have never lost my
attention.” 

“It’s hard to be around him,
around men period, and not have the ability to show them that you’re mine and
show you how I feel,” Alex whispers, bringing his lips close to the lobe of my
ear.  I can practically feel the graze of his lips and shudder at the intimacy. 
He better be careful; too much of that and I won’t be responsible for my
actions.

Focusing on something other than
Alex and his touch, I fidget with the zipper of my purse to try and calm myself
down.  “You seem to turn it on and off so easily.  I was beginning to
worry.” 

“Elyssa, I can’t turn off what I
feel for you.  It’s just…I’m having a hard time balancing
everything.  One minute I’m completely lost in you and then the next I’m
supposed to treat you like any other female.  It’s hard to do when you
constantly have admirers vying for your attention.” 
Two hats…

I gesture with my thumb to the
table behind us.  “Well, if it makes you feel any better I wanted to rip
her arms off and beat her with them while you were singing.”