Haze (11 page)

Last night was terrific. Can we do it again Friday?

-Jack

My mind was blown.
When had there been time for him to do this?
I looked at the front one last time and enjoyed a final chuckle. He actually put his name this time, so I'd really have to make sure no one saw it.

I hid the card under some random papers and tried to get to work, the events of last night still cooking my brain inside my skull like those anti-drug commercials they used to show on TV all the time.
This is your brain on infatuation. Any questions?

I shot Jack a quick text:

Me
: Thanks for the card! It must have cost you a fortune.

Him
: It was sitting here in a drawer. Lucky find, huh?

Me
: If I could hang it on the wall here, I would! ;)

"Any word from Jack Teller about the Lexy Brown deal?" Sam was standing behind me at the desk, straightening out his shirt as he talked. I immediately dropped my cell phone to my lap. What was I doing? Trying to hide it? He had clearly witnessed my texting.

"He hasn't—" I stopped before I said anything else. What was this, an
interrogation
? Was he trying to trick me or something? "I haven't heard anything," I said. "Is Lexy Brown the
artist
?" He had never mentioned her name to me, only referred to her as
the artist
. If I acted like I knew who she was, I might be putting myself in a bad place.

"
Yeah, Lexy's the one." He paused and looked off into the distance. "I sure hope we hear something soon. As you know, I—and this company—really need this deal."

"I'm not even in charge of it," I pleaded. I felt like
I could defend myself without raising too many red flags. I didn't have to play entirely dumb. "You just had me sit in for the meeting!"

"True," he said. "Just keep me posted if you hear anything. Information moves quick in this business. If Jack stops by and I'm not here, I want to be the first to know about it."

"Okay,
Sam
." I sounded flustered, understandably, given his tone and approach. Was it possible that he knew about Jack and me? The thought made my heart beat uncontrollably, almost as much as my memories from last night did—but in a
very
different way. I had expected him to scold me about texting on the clock; he didn't.

Weird.

He briskly walked back to his office. When he disappeared from view, I sunk back in my chair and let out an enormous sigh. Everything had been strange since that meeting with Jack, that incident of random chance that led to last night and the nights that would follow just like it. I didn't think I was ready for a committed relationship, but I wasn't about to draw any lines just yet, especially with my job possibly dangling from a thread.

Could I actually lose my job over something like this? The more I thought about it, the more I realized I wasn't thinking clearly—but did I really want that? To think clearly? This felt like heaven, like a place I'd never been before. Sure, I'd had good moments in my previous relationships, but they hadn't compared to these in the least—and this was
only the beginning.

How could I take sides in a situation like this?

Well, it didn't matter one way or another. I had no influence on Jack's decision, and he had made that very clear. I would just have to keep
us
quiet for now.

***

I worked extra hard that day and the next, trying to be a model employee for Sam. Even if he had his suspicions about my activities outside of work—nothing that he could prove, of course—I wasn't going to give him anything that he could use against me on the job.

God, I couldn't wait until Friday's end. I wanted to see Jack so bad, to spend some quality time with the man. I didn't even know what we were doing, yet I was satisfied with that vagueness. When five o'clock finally rolled around, I was already flying out of the office.

"Don't have too much fun this weekend, Ms. Jacobs," Sam said. He gave me a weak smile, but it was a
smile
nevertheless.

"Same to
you
, Sam."

I headed home, fighting the heavy subway
foot traffic as everyone made a mad dash to start the weekend. We were packed like sardines in that subway car. I really hoped we didn't crash, especially not with the car mere inches from overflowing.

The trip turned out just fine.

My phone buzzed in my purse after I got out of the subway. I left it, wanting to save the excitement until I got back into my apartment. But then my ringtone went off and I realized I definitely wanted to take the call.

"Guess what we're doing tonight?" It was Jack. He hadn't even greeted me. Just straight to business.

"Jack! Thanks for saying hi first."

"Guess?"

"We're going to Florida!"

"Shut up. I'm taking you to your very first Broadway show!"

"How do you know it's my
first
?" I asked.

"Effie! Are you kidding me? Even if you have been to one, you've never experienced it from the best seats in the house."

"Fine, I lied. But can we eat first? I'm famished." All jokes aside, my heart fluttered in my chest. This was going to be something special. My grumbling stomach was trying to steal the show, however.

"We'll have a nice, fancy meal before the show. It's
Once
. You know it, right?"

I had actually heard of it—and I wanted to see it on top of that!—so this would be great. "Yeah! That's so cool. I don't really know what to say."

"Don't
say
a damn thing. Just get dressed. Wear that dress you wore to that stupid investor event. It'll be more fun this time. I'll be there to pick you up in forty-five minutes."

I hung up with him and just smiled, realizing how nice all of this was. Things could be so confusing
in the best way. A series of cosmic coincidences had led me to this point. I couldn't justify it any other way. Yet, despite the fact that it was incredible luck for me, things could still be so foggy. Not all of the answers were so clear—or apparent at all, really.

What I was feeling f
or Jack made sense, but barely when placed in perspective with everything else. What about my career? What risks was I willing to take?

Some people needed to overanalyze, to tear apart every bit of
every
thing
they knew. I didn't want to do that here, not now. I wanted to just
feel
and get lost in the beautiful haze of it all.

Jesse wasn't home when I arrived, so I cranked the music up loudly while I got ready. I was so excited, so giddy and ready for whatever the night would bring. It was my first Broadway show and that was
exciting as hell, especially since I'd be joined by this gorgeous, kind of famous guy who was treating me like a queen. Nobody had ever treated me like this before.

The cleavage in my dress felt so different this time, as if it were a gift for Jack exclusively, despite its public nature. I definitely wouldn't have worn this dress to work—but I would wear it again tonight and be proud of it.

Forty-five minutes after I had talked to Jack, I looked out the window to see a limo waiting by the curb—and then I remembered my joke from when he had picked me up last time. I couldn't believe how attentive he was, how well he paid attention to detail.

I moved so quickly down those stairs that I was certain I'd fall to my death, right before this date-of-a-lifetime. Years of wearing heels had made me skilled with stairs, however, a fact for which I was grateful. During high school, I had actually practiced at home before prom, going up and down the stairs to the second floor of my house so many times that I could barely walk when I was done. It was necessary in my quest to prevent anything that might turn out to be
social suicide.

God, had I really been that worried about
falling down
? Adolescence could be such a drag.

Sure, I'd be embarrassed now, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. High school was such a drastically different place than the real world, a fact that wasn't apparent until you graduated.

Jack stepped out of the limo and took my hand as I approached the car.

"You look nice...
just as I expected," he said, allowing a grin to emerge. He was wearing a gorgeous, custom-tailored pinstripe suit. His physique still looked perfect beneath it. Despite his dressy apparel, his hair was messy in the most pristine way possible, the usual for him. His eyes quickly settled on my cleavage and then crawled back up to meet mine.

"You're such a pig!" I said. "You didn't even try to hide it."

Jack gave me a peck on the lips and pulled me toward the limo. "Do I really need to? Nothing wrong with appreciating the
finer things
in life."

"This vehicle is ridiculous, by the way." I stepped inside and immediately
drowned in luxury.

"Percy, this is Effie. Effie, that's Percy." An older gentleman sat in the front, also dressed in a nice suit, only his had a matching
blue hat. He gave a cordial wave and then called to me as Jack pulled the door shut.

"You look beautiful, ma'am." I was instantly reminded of the attendant in the elevator. It wasn't an unpleasant thing, either. Both men were friendly, and neither seemed like the attitude was counterfeit.

"Thank you," I said mechanically. I really hoped that he meant it. "I like your hat!"

"I wear only the finest, ma'am." Percy let out a low, weathered laugh, one that certainly fit his appearance. He seemed unusually pleased about the fact that he was going to drive a limo through NYC traffic. Well, he was probably paid well, too, based on the tips I'd seen Jack
casually hand out thus far.

Percy raised the window up, providing us with full privacy. Jack poured us each a glass of champagne. "Jack! I'm starved. I'm going to be totally tipsy by the time we eat." I took a sip anyway.

"Fine by me," he said. His eyes went right back to my breasts and he buried his face between them, kissing that soft, tender flesh. "Christ, you're beautiful." His breath was so warm against my flesh. "I've missed you so much these last couple of days."

"I missed you too, Jack." By the time I had finished saying his name, he was kissing me, pressing me against the seat with his superior weight. I hungrily kissed him back, submitting myself to his desire. His hands were crawling up my leg, hiking up my skirt and revealing my panties. "Jack," I pleaded pathetically.

Stubble tickled my face as he pulled away, his body lowering to the floor. I felt my panties leaving my body, sliding against my skin until they were bunched around my ankles. I put my hands on his head, weakly trying to prevent the next step.

"What about the driver?" I asked. "Or the people outside the limo?"

"Tinted glass," Jack said. "Doesn't matter anyhow. They can only see your face, not what I'm up to." His tongue touched my clit like a bolt of lightning, my body immediately tensing. I wasn't going to be able to stop him—and that was the best thing ever.

My legs held his head tight as my heart pulsed out of control, the pleasure surging through my veins like a drug. The city crawled by around us, but I couldn't pay any attention to it. Jack kept at it until I came against his tongue, my cries spilling out with my cream. He finished just as Percy lowered the window. I jumped as soon as it happened, missing Jack's face with a
flying knee by mere inches.

"We're here, Mr.
Teller. Enjoy the meal, and I'll be back for you."

My cheeks flushed bright red as I suddenly became far too aware of my
sex hair. I felt compromised as hell, but it was okay.

"Thanks, Percy. You ready?" he asked.

"Jack!" I muttered under my breath as I grabbed my panties and pulled them back up. He gave me a wicked
I just made you come
smile and then opened up the door.

We got into the restaurant quickly—I hid behind him as much as possible, still embarrassed that I had just had an orgasm roughly a minute before—and sat down at a private table in the corner. Jack never even told me the name of the place, just marched me in after having his way between my thighs. Something about that was
scorchingly sexy, despite my best attempts to be frustrated by it.

The restaurant was glamorous, the crowd filled with well-dressed, well-off folks. We chatted idly as we waited for our plate of c
harcuterie and fine cheeses to arrive. It was then that I noticed the text I had missed when Jack had called me right after I got off the subway. It was from
Timothy
.

Him:
I'm in NYC. Can we meet up?

I sipped my wine, trying to bury any hint of the uncertainty I suddenly felt. Jack saw it on my face immediately, though, a skill that Timothy hadn't even acquired after two years of dating. "Effie, what's wrong?"