Following Love (12 page)

“Hey, you ready for me?” he asked.

The statement carried all kinds of innuendo and, given her recent lapses into the realm of lustful fantasy voyeurism, she decided that it would be best not to answer. Instead she smiled, looked out his window and nodded.

“Let's get started.”

 

Louise Gates arrived for her visit with Ellen in usual grand style; Colonel Wheeler drove. Loving partners for years, they'd just returned from visiting her grandson and his wife, Tony and Madison, and her new great-grandchildren. The miracle of birth had a way of renewing her spirit, which prompted her to visit.

After a nine-course Southern-style lunch with all the homemade trimmings, Ellen and Louise bid farewell to Colonel Wheeler as he set off on a fishing trip for a few days with some military buddies. The women, having waved dutifully from the front porch, never made it much past that spot. They sat out relaxing on the hanging swing and gliding rocking chair. The tranquil comfort to the tranquil day eased around them like a pair of old slippers. The only stirred movement beside them was the energetic dashing of three-year-old Dillon on his bike and the gentle breeze blowing, adding to the genteel conversation.

“Julian Hamilton, I like that name,” Louise said.

“He's a nice man. Charming and kind like his father, he's just what the doctor ordered, and as a matter of fact, he was a doctor a few years back. After his father passed on, he and his brothers returned to close the family business but found that they were more connected than they thought. That's when they each moved back home. Good men, all three of them,” Ellen said.

“Three?” Louise asked. Ellen nodded. “All single?” Ellen nodded again. Louise nodded with added interest. “And he's been married before?” she asked.

“Yes, but it didn't count, she wasn't his type. As a matter of fact, she wasn't much anyone's type. Wild and headstrong, she nearly tore that family apart when he moved here.”

“How's that?”

“Apparently they met in Boston when he was a doctor and apparently she didn't like the idea of not being a doctor's wife, at least that's what was said. I think there was more to it.”

“I imagine there was, there always is,” Louise said.

“Anyway, she took that darling little boy of hers and marched right back to Boston.”

“So Julian has a son?”

“No, not biological. He was planning to adopt when the marriage broke up. Julian adored that child. Broke his heart when she took him away and never looked back. Right after that he got himself engaged to a nutcase.”

“How long ago was that?”

“A year and a bit,” Ellen said. “I haven't heard anything since. Guess he just tired of being disappointed.”

“Indeed, I can see why,” she said, sympathizing. “So what's going on with Dena?”

“She's keeping pretty quiet, getting stronger. She stopped by the house and came back in one piece. Usually a trip there tears her apart.”

“That's a good sign.”

“Aunt Ell-lllen,” Dillon called as he came barreling around the side of the house on his bicycle. Ellen stood and looked over the open rail. Dillon parked his bike, got off and ran up the front stairs.

He smiled and handed each woman a crumpled yellow dandelion and a perfectly mud-free rock he'd found in the yard. “I got this for you,” he said, proud of his accomplishment.

“Thank you, Dillon,” Louise said, smiling from ear to ear at the thoughtful gift.

“Thanks, toots,” Ellen said, and she kissed his forehead then looked at his dirty hands. “Have you been in my flower garden?”

“No-oo, not me,” he said, shaking his head.

“Good. Tell you what, why don't you go wash up and change your shirt? Mamma Lou Gates and I will drive down to the ice-cream parlor and pick some vanilla ice cream to go with the apple pie for tonight's dinner.”

“'Kay,” he said, and hurried into the house, then stopped and came back to the screen door just as it softly closed. “But I want chocolate ice cream, 'kay?”

“All right, chocolate ice cream it is.”

“Yea,” he yelled, and he hurried upstairs.

Ellen and Louise laughed heartily.

“He is such a darling,” Louise said.

“I don't know what I'm going to do when they leave.”

“Dena's still moving, uh?”

“Yes, unfortunately. We talked about it last night. She insists that she needs to move on.”

“That means we better see what we can do.”

I
t was self-sabotage, she knew it, but she didn't care. Ten minutes into the lesson and she was already feeling the familiar sexual attraction. She inhaled softly, smelling the spiced scent of his cologne. Pure masculinity exuded from every pore of his body as they sat side by side on the sofa at the small coffee table.

The program itself was more difficult than she expected. Uniquely developed, it was designed especially for Hamilton Development Corporation needs. More statistical than mathematical, in essence it shadowed every job from concept through to completion, showing and evaluating progress, anticipating shortages in material and manpower and even projecting losses.

A few keystrokes brought the entire company into view. Updated regularly by job foremen from satellite offices, the three owners had their finger on every job no matter when or where.

Dena did a test rundown, having received numbers from one of the foremen in the field. She entered his data and requested an update. The program ran through the algorithms and output the next few days' assignments. She approved them against a previous project and forwarded the information to the foremen's laptop.

“Perfect.” Julian said after she completed the run-through. “It'll make more sense to you once you start working with the program on a regular basis.” She nodded, keeping her eyes glued to the screen. He focused on her profile for too long. “Maybe we should take a break. We've been at it for almost two hours.”

“Good idea,” she said, trying to sound relaxed. He stood and walked over to his desk. She pulled up one of the projects she'd worked on earlier. “So you're renovating the Kellerman Building.”

“Yes,” he said without turning, “we're sixteen weeks into the project, looking to close out in twenty-three.”

“That's a quick turnaround. That building is pretty messed up.”

“You're familiar with the Kellerman Building?” he asked, turning to see her looking at him.

“Yes, actually it was one of my last assignments before I quit working a few years ago. I remember it well. It was so avant-garde for a 1970s bank building. Unfortunately it was used as everything except what it was intended. If I remember correctly, it was a storefront church, a halfway house, a rave club, a trash dump and then squatters moved in and it really went downhill. The housing commission came in to legally evict the squatters. Still the architecture is phenomenal and I always thought that the potential was limitless.”

“I agree. Jordan drew up some really incredible plans and we added some very interesting and innovative ideas, but still in keeping with the basic architectural structure and integrity. Our client is very happy with what we've done so far. I'm excited to see the finish.”

“Me, too,” she agreed.

“I think it's going to be one of our top jobs.”

“That's really exciting. The place was such a mess and now to see the progress reports and the digital photos, I'm just amazed by the transformation.”

“It just needed a little TLC.”

“Tender loving care, don't we all,” she added. “Taking a disastrous shell and bringing life back into it is a tremendous undertaking.”

Julian knew she wasn't only talking about the Kellerman Building. He walked back over to the sofa and sat beside her. “So tell me more about the housing commission.”

“There's not a lot to tell. I dealt with slum lords, wrongful evictions, housing discrimination, that kind of thing.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It was. I never knew what each day would bring.”

“Such as?” he prompted.

Dena began relaying interesting situations she'd dealt with while working at the commission. She told funny anecdotes and soulful, heartwarming stories of success and triumph. Julian listened intently, asking questions and just enjoying being with her. After a particularly touching story she stopped suddenly. “Oh, boy. I'm sorry, I must be boring you to death.”

“No, not at all. I'm fascinated and I'm glad you didn't compromise your values and work for the law firm.”

“Me, too.”

“Ever think of going back into law?”

“Sometimes. I guess I will someday, just not right now. It would be too frustrating for me with everything that's happening. So, looks like you're stuck with me as a temp.”

“Good, I'm glad to hear that.”

“Are you?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I like having you around and I'd like to get to know you better.”

“As friends?”

“That, too,” he said, his eyes burning into hers. “You know where this is leading, don't you?”

She reached up and softly stroked his cheek then quickly moved her hand away. “I'm sorry,” she apologized.

“For what?”

“That was inappropriate.”

“Then I guess this is way over the line.” He leaned in, slowly kissed her softly on the cheek.

Dena closed her eyes, feeling the warm sensation of his lips on her face spread throughout her body. She held her breath as her stomach fluttered and her mind hazed dizzily in all directions. “Julian,” she moaned. Seconds later he kissed her again, an inch away from the previous spot. “This will compromise everything for you.”

“So be it,” he said softly, then moved to kiss her lips tenderly. The smooth sensation of his lips gently pressed to hers sent tremors through her body. They'd kissed before, hungry, grasping and wanting. This was different. She was feeling everything—nervousness, excitement, happiness, exhilaration, anticipation—everything at once.

His tongue touched her lips and she opened to him. The kiss, once sweet and easy, turned needful and devouring as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. He held her tight with no intention of letting go. She savored his touch with her own longing. The hunger they'd both suppressed for so long intensified beyond measure.

How do you stop raging fire when all you want is to feel the burn inside? The question swirled inside her brain as their unrestrained yearning swelled.

He reached down and touched her breast through her suit jacket, once stylish business wear, now a hindrance to their desire. She opened the jacket to expose a silk lace bra. His hand covered her breast, tweaking the taut nipple to pebble beneath the lace. Her head rolled back as his kisses plunged downward, her neck, her shoulder, her arm, and finally to her breasts.

Reclining against the thick-cushioned couch she raised her leg as he adjusted his body to cover her. His full weight lay on top of her and his body felt so good. Both breathless, he kissed her neck then slowly rose to her lips. He moaned, she sighed, both knowing that this was neither the time nor the place.

He sat back, taking her hand to sit straight. He looked down the length of her body, seeing the lace bra still exposed. Shaking his head, he smiled. She mirrored his actions as he reached over and slowly buttoned her jacket. After a few deep, cleansing breaths, he took her hand and kissed it.

“I know,” she said, agreeing to his silent frustration. “Our timing is lousy.”

“Yes, it is.” He stood and walked to his desk.

Dena watched him as she quickly restyled her mussed hair. The chances they were taking only added to the intensity of their desire. The door was unlocked and dozens of coworkers were gathered just down the hall celebrating a baby shower.

“I can't do this,” he finally said.

“Do what?” Dena asked hesitantly.

“This, you and me, sitting here like nothing's up, like my body's not on fire, like I'm about to explode.”

She stood and walked over to him. “I know, I'm sorry.”

He turned to her. “No, never be sorry for passion. I want you and you want me. No regrets.”

“What about…”

“Celibacy is my way of avoidance. It's easier to deny than to open your heart. For the last seven months I walked away, only to find you waiting for me in the end.”

“Wrong place, wrong time.”

“Well, I guess that is a problem,” he said. They smiled and half chuckled at their ill-timed destiny. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

“I can't. Dillon.”

“Bring him. I'll pick you up at eight.”

She shook her head sadly. “It's too soon…Dillon…” she began, but before she finished he kissed her.

“I understand, but if you change your mind, call me.”

The tempting offer hovered in the air between them.

The knock on the door startled them apart. Dena turned back to the computer screen as Julian walked over to the door. Kenneth stood on the other side, smiling. They shook hands as he entered. Seeing Dena sitting on the sofa looking at the computer screen, his smile faded. “Hope I'm not disturbing anything,” Kenneth said, dropping his briefcase on the chair opposite the desk.

“Not at all,” Julian said. “Kenneth, this a new employee, Dena Graham. Dena, this a friend, Kenneth Fields. Dena is also an attorney. Dena is taking Mattie and Willamina's place while they're on medical and maternity leave.”

Dena stood, meeting Kenneth midway. “Nice to meet you, Kenneth.”

“Same here,” Kenneth said. “So, you're also an attorney. Where have you practiced?” They shook hands and talked briefly about law school and people they knew in common.

“I'd better get going,” Dena said, gathering up the folders and files she'd brought with her. Seconds later she made a quick, discreet exit.

“I thought you were doing the celibate thing,” Kenneth said as he sat down and opened his briefcase.

Julian looked at him, surprised by his obvious perception. “I am.”

Kenneth smiled. “Right,” he said skeptically.

“Sounds like you don't believe me.”

“Julian, I'm your attorney. I get paid to believe every word you say. Now, tell me about Stephanie.” Julian began, telling him about her recent phone calls and e-mails. Kenneth strategized responses, offering several alternatives. Julian only half listened; Dena was still on his mind.

 

Within the span of two and a half hours the conference room had been completely transformed. Large pink and blue balloons floated on the ceiling and yellow and green crepe paper twisted and streamed around the room. Huge baby booties, pacifiers, bottles and rattles decorated the table along with a catered meal.

A massive amount of food covered several side tables as colorfully wrapped gift boxes and bags were piled high on another. Dena added her gift to the growing pile then greeted Willamina as soon as she returned from the bathroom. They chatted a few minutes until a few other workers approached, then Dena headed to the buffet table.

Up close, the spread was mind-boggling. There was every imaginable food from Texas-style baby back ribs to lobster and seafood salad to Mexican tacos and fajitas to Chinese egg rolls.

She walked up beside two coworkers, Jessica and Wanda, standing at the buffet talking and adding food to their already mounded plates.

“Hey, ladies,” Dena said as she picked up a plate.

“Hey, girl. Where have you been all day?” Wanda asked.

“Busy, last-minute crash course on everything,” Dena said, “but I think I got it all covered.”

“I heard that,” Jessica said. “Mattie's and Willamina's job is insane. I don't know how they do it, but they do. Now it's on you. I'm not trying to make you nervous or anything but you got some serious work to keep up with.”

Wanda, older and apparently wiser, nudged Jessica's shoulder. “Don't be saying that. You'll have Dena running out of here yelling and screaming her head off. Don't pay any attention to her, Dena.” Wanda consoled Dena. “It's not that bad.”

“All I'm saying is that with all these jobs going on at one time in different phases of completion, it's hard to keep up. Personnel, budgets, materials, locations, it's just whacked,” Jessica mumbled.

“Again, don't listen to her, she panics when the phone rings twice.”

Dena smiled, Wanda chuckled and Jessica laughed full-out. “Come on and get some food,” Wanda said.

“Good idea,” Dena said.

“I love it when this company throws a party. They seriously go all out. This is my first baby shower but I was here for a farewell party. The food is always insane,” Jessica said, leaning over to whisper into Dena's ear.

“You can say that again, this is unbelievable,” Dena said, “but why so many different things?”

“Darius always asks the guest of honor exactly what they want. But if it's a baby shower he just gets everything on the menu, taking into account the food urges of pregnancy. I guess he figures that he should cover all the bases and just order everything,” Wanda said, heaping another huge pile of seafood salad on her plate.

“I don't even know where to start,” Dena said as she looked over the assortment of food beautifully displayed on the table.