STEP BY STEP (13 page)

***

“You ready?” Preston said as he rapped on
my hotel door that evening. He’d made dinner reservations for us at a
restaurant at the top of the Space Needle.

I spritzed on one final spray of my
gardenia perfume, smoothed my hair, and flung my purse over my shoulder before
meeting him in the hallway. As weird as it was, I felt like we were going out
on a date, and a teeny, tiny part of me hoped he’d kiss me that night.

“Have you eaten here before?” I asked as
we rode the elevator down to the hotel lobby.

“Never,” he said. “But it seemed like
something everyone should do at least once in their lives. When in Rome,
right?”

Preston had been in a great mood ever
since our pitch earlier that day. Things were going well, and I was starting to
grow fond of the Preston that existed outside of the office. I almost hated for
our little trip to end.

We finished our sweet little dinner at
Sky City, mostly talking about work things and keeping the conversation light,
though the tension between us was so ripe there was no denying it.

“Observation deck?” Preston asked as we
left the restaurant. “Care for one more drink before we head back to the
hotel?”

We’d shared a bottle of red wine over
dinner, his idea, and I was already feeling a little uninhibited, but since he
was buying, I couldn’t say no. “Sure.”

We headed to the observation deck at the
top of the Space Needle and Preston grabbed us some cocktails from the bar.
Overlooking the entire city of Seattle, we were practically at the top of the
world.

As we stood, in silence, looking down
upon the city lights that were beginning to fill the nighttime sky, Preston was
so close to me I could feel his warm breath on my neck and the musky scent of
his cologne filled my lungs. I closed my eyes, missing deeply brief period of
time when we were irrationally and confusingly passionate about each other. It
was over before it had even begun, but those feelings never left.
At least not for me.

“I wanted to ask you something tonight,” Preston
said after several long moments of silence.

“What’s that?” I asked as I spun around
to face him. For the first time ever, he looked slightly nervous.

“I want to ask you to stay,” he said.
“Once your internship is over. I want you on my team.”

“Oh,” I said, trying to disguise the
disappointment in my voice. I had secretly hoped he was going to confess that
his feelings for me had never changed. “I’ll…have to think about that.”

“I can take care of you,” he said.

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me,”
I scoffed. “But thanks.”

“I want to take care of you,” he said.
“If you won’t work for me, at least be with me.”

“Be with you?” I echoed.

“In just a few weeks, you’ll head back to
Georgia,” he said. “I’m not ready to let you go.”

“Preston,” I said, noticing his eyes
focused on my lips. It was almost as if we were being drawn closer to one
another without even trying. “We tried this once, remember?”

“I screwed it up,” he said. “I know that.
I want to try to make it right. I’ve never met anyone like you before, Mirabelle.”

“You just want me because you can’t have
me,” I replied, although it wasn’t entirely true. He could have me. I just
wanted him to show me how bad he wanted me. My mother always told me people
never appreciated things if they never had to work hard for them.

“I want you because you’re beautiful,
Miri
,” he said. “Inside and out. And you’re smart. God, are
you smart. And you’re not afraid to put me in my place. You’re genuine,
thoughtful…”

His voice
trailed
as his words became background noise to the thoughts circling around in my
head. For Preston
Woodfield
to dole out that many
compliments in one sitting was extremely rare.

“Stop,” I said, cutting him off. “If you
want to be with me, you have to promise to let me in.”

“Let you in?” he asked.

“You’re a closed book,” I said. “I know
nothing about you except that you’re extremely driven and impossibly handsome.”

“True,” he said with a devilish smirk.
“We do need to get to know each other a little better.”

“This can’t just be a physical thing,” I
said as I inched closer into his space. He was so damn irresistible. “It has to
be deeper than that.”

“Anything you want,” he said, our lips
mere centimeters apart.

“No games, no assumptions, no mysteries,”
I said. “Just us.”

With that, Preston’s lips were pressed
against mine, and I melted into his arms in an instant.

The day had finally come. As
I sat in my cap and gown, waiting for the university president to call my name
so I could walk across the stage and get my diploma, the hot Georgia sun beat
down and warmed my face. A cool breeze ruffled the long strands of hair that
spilled down my shoulders. It was a perfect day. My sister and niece were
sitting with my parents. My best friends were scattered throughout the student
body, also awaiting their diplomas, and the weather couldn’t have been more
gorgeous for a Saturday in May. But there was one thing missing: Preston.

That night in Seattle back in
April, when Preston and I decided we couldn’t fight our chemistry any longer,
was nothing short of magical. I was worried when we got back to Manhattan and
back to the daily grind that things would change. Things changed all right, but
they changed for the better.

Preston became softer –
at least towards me. He’d sit back in meetings and let me take the reins. He’d
get my coffee in the morning. And once a week, he’d send me fresh flowers,
usually something seasonal like daffodils or tulips.

I told him I wanted to take
thing slow. The last thing I wanted was for us to crash and burn like we’d done
the first time. The chemistry between us was crazy, and sometimes scary, and I
was still trying to navigate the treacherous waters of life as a new adult.

Preston wanted to take care
of me. He wanted to take me under his wing and show me the world. Part of me
wondered if he was making up for never being the protective big brother he
should’ve been when he had the chance. I wanted to see and do everything for
myself though. Maybe I was naïve and stubborn and overly independent, but
that’s who I was. I wasn’t going to change, and I made it perfectly clear to
him.

My row began to stand and
then march towards the podium.

“Mirabelle Elizabeth Baker,”
the president called. My heart raced as I walked across the stage to receive my
diploma. I shook his hand with the biggest smile on my face and threw my arm up
in the air as my family and friends cheered for me.

As the ceremony wrapped up, I
went to find my mom and dad. The thick throngs of attendees made it rather
difficult to find them, so I spent a good ten minutes wandering the grounds
until finally I spotted my niece in her little pink tutu and swooped her up.

“Look who it is!” Madison
said with a big smile. “Congrats, sis!”

“There’s our graduate!” my
mom said, camera in hand. My dad stood behind her, quiet and proud, beaming ear
to ear.

“I’m so glad it’s over with!”
I sighed, scratching my head under the hot cap. “I can’t wait to take this
stuff off.”

“We have a little surprise
for you,” Madison said with a mischievous smirk.

“What?” I asked, hesitant.

My family took a step back
and away from one another only to reveal the most beautiful thing I’d seen in a
long time: Preston
Woodfield
.

My family ended up taking the
news better than I thought, but they knew me well. They knew I always got what
I wanted and I never let the opinions of others sway my decisions. They balked
at first, but once the initial shock wore off, they backed down and accepted
it, welcoming him in like the family he used to be.

He stood there with his dark
hair, groomed five o’clock shadow, and blue eyes piercing into mine. I hadn’t
seen him in two weeks, and he’d told me he couldn’t attend my graduation due to
a work trip he couldn’t reschedule.

“Preston,” I said, his name
falling out of my mouth so effortlessly. I stepped towards him and took his
hand as he leaned down and kissed my lips. “I didn’t think you were going to be
here.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the
world,” he said, eyes crinkling.

“I thought you had a work
trip?” I said, swatting his chest with my hand.

He smiled, knowingly, “I
figured out a way.”

***

Later that night, with Preston
in town for a couple days, we decided to go out for drinks at a local martini
lounge to celebrate.

“Two weeks was too weeks too
long,” Preston said as he sipped his dirty martini. “I was counting down the
days, Mirabelle.”

“Me too,” I smiled. We’d
texted nonstop since I left the city, and we talked on the phone every night
before bed, but it wasn’t the same as seeing each other every day. “That was a
long two weeks.”

“So when are you coming
back?” he asked. “Your office is waiting.”

The color drained from my
face. I wasn’t ready to have that discussion yet, and I certainly wasn’t
expecting him to bring it up so soon. I was coming back to Manhattan, sure, but
I wasn’t going to work for him. I hadn’t had the heart to tell him that yet.

“Look who it is,” a man’s
voice said from behind me. I spun
around,
drink in
hand, only to be faced with my high school ex-boyfriend, Andrew. “Mirabelle Baker.”

He bit his lower lip and
looked me up and down like I was on display only for him. A brown bottle of
beer rested in his left hand as his eyes traveled over to Preston. I’d admit
,
Preston looked pretty out of place next to me, several
years my senior. He didn’t care though, and nothing seemed to faze him. He just
wanted to be with me.

“I hear you’re dating your
stepbrother now, Mirabelle,” Andrew said with a menacing laugh as he adjusted
his pants and puffed out his chest. Clearly he was doing the dance of an
intimidated man.

“Excuse me,” I said, gently
pushing my long, blonde hair over my shoulder. “That’s not true.”

“I knew you was a lot of
things
Miri
, but I never thought you’d fuck your own
brother,” he said, growing more and more agitated by the second.

I wanted to throw my drink in
his face. I wanted to remind him that he cheated on me. He ditched my ass the
second life got real and that was several years ago.

“What do you want, Andrew?” I
asked, annoyed. I placed my hand on my hip and Preston stood up from his bar
stool, ready to defend me if needed.

“Why don’t you just leave,” Preston
said, his voice firm and his eyes meaning business. “You’re bothering her.”

“Oh, yeah?” Andrew said, his
eyes meeting Preston’s, only Preston had a good five inches of height on Andrew’s
short ass. “What’re you going to do about it, huh?”

Andrew beat on his chest
before backing down a bit.

“You have no business talking
to me,” I said to him. “And you know damn well why.”

Andrew seemed to grow
agitated once again. “Oh, don’t you dare put that on me.”

“Excuse me,” Preston’s voice
boomed. “Do not speak to her that way.”

“
Miri
,
you know you miss this,” Andrew said pointing to his junk. “You were still
calling me six months ago trying to hook up when you were home on Christmas
break.”

Before I had a chance to say
anything, Preston grabbed my arm and led me away.

“Where the fuck you
goin
’?” Andrew called out. He was smashed beyond smashed.

“We’re leaving,” Preston said
as we headed out to the parking lot to his rental car. “You don’t need to
subject yourself to that nonsense.”

I climbed into the passenger seat
of his car, half-expecting Andrew to run out of the club and chase after us. Andrew
was a pathetic excuse of a man, but he was very jealous and his temper always
got the best of him. He was used to always getting what he wanted, and given
our history, it probably killed him to see me happy and moving on, like we
never were.

“So, where to now?” I asked,
checking the time on my phone. It was barely eight-thirty.