Haze (7 page)

"Are you sure you're not keeping some
big fucking secret
from me, Effie?" Sam was standing next to my desk, grinning from ear-to-ear. There was a light blue box sitting there.

"What the hell is that?" I asked. Caffeine was absent from my body, and so I was a little on the irritable side. Sam just shrugged and walked back to his office. I picked up the card:

Can we

-J

"Dammit," I mumbled quietly to myself. No punctuation or even a complete sentence. These gifts were drawing unwanted attention to me, even though I secretly liked it. Had he just forgotten to finish the message in the card? That didn't seem like something Jack would do based on my incredibly limited knowledge of him.

"Those are
MarieBelle," Sam said from right outside his office. "One of the finest chocolate makers in the city. Pricey as hell." He could apparently tell from the logo on the box since I hadn't opened it yet.

"Thanks for the history
lesson," I said sarcastically. I opened the box to find four trays with these little diamond-shaped, multi-colored pieces of chocolate. It was incredibly pretty, incredibly
charming
. It felt like the dessert version of a box of Crayola crayons. I wasn't quite ready to eat chocolate that early in the morning, so I pushed the box over by the roses. Honestly, I was running out of space—and if he sent me more stuff, it was only going to get worse.

I thought about that sentence fragment all day. He was trying to get me to guess something, to s
omehow anticipate his next move, and I wasn't doing well. No guy had ever confused me like this. If it had been anyone other than Jack, I would have found it to be kind of creepy, a feeling that I didn’t think was entirely rational despite the fact that as a girl, I easily felt it. But despite my outward disgust in front of Sam, being spoiled publicly was kind of a nice, warm feeling.

Every girl needed a few moments like that, right?
Spoiled by her boyfrie—

No, I couldn't go there.

After staring at the blue box all morning—it certainly was pretty—I decided to have one of the chocolates at lunch. It was so good that I almost passed out. It was decadent, artisan, melt-in-your-mouth chocolate. It was almost enough to put me into a food coma.

After a second one, I drew the line and pushed the box to the other side of my desk again. I would save these for later.
Moderation was my friend.

There was nothing from Jack again. Honestly, I was thinking about him more than ever now. His persistence had to mean
something
. Maybe I
was
wrong about the girl outside the suite and now he was really trying to make things right.

My Wednesday morning commute was
overloaded with high-intensity thinking. Oh yes, I arrived at a suspicion that wound up proving to be correct.

I rushed into the office, hoping to see another gift, not because I
wanted
another gift, but because it confirmed that I had
figured it out
. Yep, I was right. Sam wasn't standing there today—I'm not so sure I would have been able to handle more of his snooping, so that was a good thing—but there was a gift, a small, black box. The potential gravity of the situation had me worried. I plucked the card as if it were an eyebrow and ripped it open.

meet for

-J

I cursed under my breath again. Sam noticed my frustration and immediately walked toward me. He seemed troubled instead of nosy. "Effie, should I be calling the police or something?"
He wasn't smiling today.

"No," I said with finality. "It's not bad. I'm just frustrated. Who keeps bringing these here?"

"Delivery services. I obviously would have figured it out if the guy kept showing up here."

"What makes you so certain it's a
guy
?" I asked, distracting myself by making a joke. "
J
could be a woman, right?"

"Oh, come on," he said. "You're
sure
you don't have any ideas? You've got everybody talking about you in the break room."

Of course they were, Sam.
They were a bunch of gossips in the break room.

"It could be my ex, I guess. But that's not his first initial.
" I cleared my throat. "I don't know." I opened up the box mechanically, my hands more curious than my brain. And then I choked on my coffee.

It was a diamond-encrusted bottle of lotion, one that
appeared to reflect light like a mirror.
Carita Diamant De Beaute Diamond Cream
it said. I covered my face with my hands, shielding myself from this ridiculous luxury gift as if it were a venomous snake.

This shit couldn't be cheap! I almost blacked out
.

"You're such a terrible liar, Effie." Sam turned around and left me there to wallow in my own confusion. "Let me know when you figure out the
billionaire
that likes you."

I couldn't take it anymore. It was day three now, and Jack still hadn't completed his second sentence, his request for me. More gifts were on their way, but based on how nice today's was, I didn't think I couldn't handle another without fainting.

Oh yeah, and I was nearly out of desk space.

This was a beautiful disaster, a thing that usually only happened in the movies. I was being lavished with
extravagant gifts, a victim of the most pleasant crime in the world. I suddenly understood how someone could love a guy like Al Capone.

This had to stop. I had to give in and put an end to this. I looked up Jack online until I found the office phone number for his company. After viciously punching it into my phone, I ran over to Sam's office door. "I'll be right back," I said.

"Sure. Take your time." He gave me a wan smile.

I ran out into the hallway, my hands shaking as I held the phone. It rang multiple times and then a woman answered, immediately filling me with dread—until I remembered I had called his
office
.

"Is Jack there?" I asked frantically.

"Mr. Teller doesn't take calls without appointments. May I ask who is calling?"

"Effie Jacobs!" I was leaned against the tall, plate-glass windows that looked out into the city. The pause after I said my name seemed like an eternity.

"He's not here right now. I'll let him know you called, Ms.
Jacobs
. Have a nice day." The line clicked off before I could say anything else. My heart was racing out of control as I stood there, staring at my phone in disbelief. No, I couldn't make it through the whole day like this. I was a train that had derailed, one that was about to explode into a huge fireball—and there might be casualties.

I
regained my sanity with a huge, deep breath and stared out at the city, the hustle and bustle that wouldn't end, no matter the time of day. I was living some sort of fantasy, trapped in a world where people seemed to be exclusively on their best behavior. Everything about this situation was different from what I knew about NYC and famous people, night and day. I didn't deserve any of this. I was a nobody from the Midwest, a college graduate who just got lucky and wound up a (very small) part of this very big machine.

There would be no conclusion right now. Jack wasn't there, so I'd just have to sit and wait. It made me hate him a little
for not being around
when I wanted him to be
, made me dislike how vague he was being. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn't need to play these stupid little games with him, that I was stronger than—

Buzz!

My phone was pressed against the glass, vibrating from an incoming call like a massager gone wild. It scared the hell out of me. I didn't recognize the number—so I picked it up
immediately
.

"Ms. Jacobs?" came a very familiar voice.

"Jack! Why the hell are you doing this?"

"We had a misunderstanding. And I
like you
, Ms. Jacobs."

Fuck!
I didn't want to feel this vulnerable, but it was working. "I like you too!" I blurted it out, suddenly transporting back to middle school and feeling like a loser.
Sorry Jack, gotta go to social studies class now! See ya!

"Can we meet for coffee? Lunch?"

The puzzle was solved! Maybe I should have let him keep sending me stuff after all if that was all he had to say...

"Jack, I—"

"No excuses. Meet me in two hours. I'll text you the address. Goodbye, Effie." The call ended while I remained speechless, unable to process what was going on. Sensory overload as usual.

I took a deep breath and went back into the office to attempt to get some work done before lunch. Something told me that I had to give him a second chance, that it really
was
a misunderstanding. Gambling was just not my thing—
this whole situation
was not my thing either.

I knew it might be
a trap, but dammit, it felt good.

Chapter 4

Jack met me outside a Greek restaurant, one that he claimed had some of the best coffee in town. "It's called a freddo cappuccino," he said appreciatively. "Milk whipped in a milkshake maker with espresso. Positively perfect."

"Nice alliteration, Jack.
As long as it's got caffeine, I'll drink it." I weakly smiled at him, trying my damndest not to be utterly smitten by his painfully good looks. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a black button-down dress shirt that had the first three buttons unbuttoned, enough that I could see a dash of soft hair on his chest. It really made me want to see his
whole
chest...

We got a table to the side, one that was fairly private and secluded compared to the rest of the place. Jack ordered our
freddo cappuccinos and then he sprung to life, wasting no time at all..

"I'm so sorry, Effie. This is goin
g to sound like a stupid cliché—and I
know
you already said that—but it was just a misunderstanding, I swear." Jack took a slow sip from his water. "That girl—well, she's a little strange. Elana is her name. She stays down the hall sometimes. Has a lot of emotional baggage. I tried dating her at one point—we shared an apartment together and it just grew from there—but it didn't last long and it's been over for years. Yeah, she's pretty, but she's literally
un-dateable
." He was so blunt and forward. No hang ups. No pauses until he was done.

"Oh, so she's like a
friend
with benefits
? Do you still sleep with her?"

Jack frowned at me. "Absolutely not. She
gets drugged up and then comes and knocks on my door. I never answer it. You walked out right when she showed up. After you left, I walked her back to her place and wished her a goodnight. End-of-story. I just try to be nice to her."

"
Well, how the hell can she afford a place like that?" I asked suddenly.

"She is
crazy
, not poor. She's a fucking good artist. You've probably actually seen her work around town."

"Where would I have seen it?"

He laughed. "I don't know exactly, but Elana says it's there. There are a lot of places it could be. Plus, they never kick her out of her room, so cash must be coming from somewhere."

"You really believe her?" I did believe
him
, actually, about all of this. Upon reflection, he hadn’t seemed happy to see her at all. Maybe he had been just feigning it, but based on what he was saying, it didn't seem that way.

Jack smiled at me and looked deep into my eyes—I was already hooked. "Effie, it doesn't matter what
Elana says or does. She's out of the picture, I promise. That was just a strange coincidence. And I'm sorry for moving so fast with you. Sometimes I forget that women are different from men. I'm a dumbass."

I had to really think about that one. Had we actually moved too fast? Would I have done that in any other situation? I couldn't answer that question for myself. Nevertheless, I still felt something that was unmistakably lust. The more I stared at this man, the more I wanted him—and
now he was acting like our encounter had been too far too soon.

"Effie?"

I hadn't said anything and it was obvious how loudly I was thinking.

"Yeah, sorry." I paused again, trying to calculate the right thing to say next. The coffee arrived before I had a chance.

"Try it," he said excitedly. The thrill of coffee served as a nice distraction. His enthusiasm was adorable.

I looked at the beverage, the visual aspect of it really beautiful. The cold, whipped milk sat atop the espresso just perfectly, a small blur of color where the two substances met. I took a sip and couldn't believe it. It was the perfect amount of sweet while not being
too sweet
, the perfect iced coffee drink for that warm summer day.