My Hot Holiday (6 page)

Read My Hot Holiday Online

Authors: Kate Crown

Tags: #funny, #erotic sex, #love, #cute, #divorce, #single mom, #hot, #domination, #sex, #Romance, #romantic sex, #erotic, #Humor, #Chick Lit, #fun, #sexy

BOOK: My Hot Holiday
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 “You can just drop me at the side door,” I beg Mom.

Lord knows I don’t want
Mr. Tall Dark & Handsome
to see me with my “Mommy.”

Oh, no.  I feel the nausea surging back.  What is Jake going to do when he sees me?  What if he thinks I slept with him just to keep my job?  Gosh, this is such a mess.  Just then the wheels come to a stop, and I realize it’s time to face this disaster head on.  I just hope the wreckage isn’t as bad as I imagine.

Sweetheart, I’m here for you.  You call me, and I’ll be waiting at the curb. I will even help you clean out your desk!”

I roll my eyes.

“Thanks for that boost of confidence, Mom!  You  really expect me to get fired, don’t you?”

“Well…you said something during your…umm…breakdown that would lead one to believe you might lose your job…”

“Oh yeah, what was that?”

She could be right.  I don’t exactly remember EVERY detail of that morning.  Thank God my two precious children weren’t there to see it all unfold.  This is one rare occasion when I’m happy that they were with their father and his new, young (and I mean REALLY young) new wife.  GAG!

“Well, honey, you ran through the house screaming, ‘Oh My God I’m going to get fired!’ She says it in the gentlest tone only a mother could deliver.

I almost feel faint as I stare at her and her perfectly coiffed French twist.  I wonder how she can get her hair to do that so perfectly every single morning.  FOCUS!

“Ahhhh…well, I suppose there are many things I said that morning that I don’t quite recall.” I look down and reach for my purse and smartphone.  Then, it hits me.  What IF I told all the gray hairs at Christmas breakfast about my night of passion?  You know, being tied to the bed posts and all those Os aren’t something I would have been able to suppress!

“Mom, what exactly did I tell everyone about my new boss?” My chest tightens as I scan her face and wait for her to answer.

“Honey, you were very, very confused.  There was a lot of nonsense that none of us could quite make out.”

Well, that’s a relief!  Count being drunk as the one and only thing I’m grateful for that day.

“Except, you DID say something about …” She pauses and looks down through squinted eyes.

Oh no.  Here we go.

“Something about three proclamations of satisfaction…  You kept saying it OVER AND OVER again.  Does that mean you got an award at work, honey?”  She asks looking hopeful.

NO!  Not an award at work!  Oh MY GAWD!  I DID tell them about my O’s!

“No, Mom.  My new boss did not give me any professional achievement awards,” I answer glancing over my shoulder scanning the crowd heading into the office.

Then the visions hit me, like a transmission being forced from neutral to second gear.

His mouth.

His lips.

His…

Then the memory of his touch rumbled through me, sending blood rushing to my face.

“Jillian?”

“Oh yes, sorry.  I’m just nervous,“ I snap.  My heart is thumping like a rabbit’s foot.  This is awful.  What am I going to do?

She looks down at the clock in the dashboard.

“You’d better get inside.  Doesn’t your big meeting start in five minutes?

“Yes, yes, it does.”

I take a deep breath and close my eyes before reaching for the door handle.

“Thanks, Mom.  I’ll be just fine.  I really am glad you are here,” I admit.

That is almost true.  I just wish I could tell her everything that’s swirling through my complicated brain.  I mean, if she only knew how ridiculous this situation really is, her hair would spring from that perfect little French twist of hers.

Four steps from the car, my phone rings and I don’t even look down to see who it is.  Mom can’t even let me get into the building before calling me again.

“Yes?” I say absently.  “I have my lunchbox, too, Mom!”

Has she taken the smothering problem to a whole new level, or what?

“Excuse me?”

Oh, shit!  The deep voice vibrates through my body like an earthquake.  It’s him!  I’m so stunned that I drop the phone to the ground with a clatter and have to scramble to pick it up.  All the while, my heart is pumping out of control.

“Oh, sorry about that!”  I pause and wait for the familiar voice to rattle me again.

This is awful.  What am I going to do?  What am I going to say?

“I thought maybe you forgot about me,” he says sternly.

“Ahhh...Jake…I can assure you, I have not forgotten about you.“

I catch the corners of my mouth lifting and my mind drifting back to the cabin.

“So, when do I get to see you again?”

“Oh,” I say, blushing a little.  “Well, it might be sooner than…”

“Can you hold just a second?”

“Don’t panic!”  I yell to myself.  The key is to stay calm and to focus on something -- anything!  God, it’s cold out here!  I set my purse down and find a tree near the entrance to lean against.  I can’t go inside now!  What if he sees me?  What on God’s green earth am I going to say to him?  Tick Tock.  Why does this man get so far under my skin?  It’s only as I’m waiting silently for his return that I begin to wonder whether he’s figured out that I am a Wilshire employee.  Oh gosh!  What will I say?  Okay.  I will say that I’m so happy he’s called because I just figured this out myself and I wanted to give him a heads up before the big meeting.  That sounds convincing enough.  Then, he’s back without even a second to breathe, he is ready to end the conversation.

Wait…is that even considered a conversation when one person does all the talking?

“I’m sorry -- I’m going to have to call you back.  My meeting is about to start.  We’ll talk later.”

“Right,” I say, trying to sound calm.  Then I realize there’s no need.  With a click, he is gone.

My heart starts to pound in a panic.  That’s MY meeting!  I know I’ve had a tendency to go off the deep end a little with my obsession with Jake, but I need to talk to him.  He can’t just hang up just like that.

With shaky legs I walk toward the entrance, not looking right or left.  This is my nightmare.  I just have to go in there and face reality.  What if I bump into him, as I head into the elevator?  Oh my, the very thought makes me feel sick.

I exit the elevator and begin to walk to my cubicle in the far corner, looking away from anyone coming into my peripheral vision.  I absolutely can’t make eye contact with these people.  I pause to put my purse down when behind me, somebody sighs loudly.  I can feel my face growing hotter and hotter.  I don’t dare look back.  I don’t dare move.

 

 

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