The One That I Want (4 page)

But the way he looked at me, made love to me... The way he would pull all the cucumber out of his salad and pass it over to me, then steal half of my fries as payment, said different. His eyes when he looked at me and his whispered words against my bare skin after we’d made love, said different.

Until the whole ugly truth came crashing down on top of me.

PAUL MET me outside the building on Friday morning. Instead of attacking me in the stairwell, he’d taken to meeting me on the street—then attacking me in the stairwell. I never complained. The difference this time was that he was standing next to an older man. Late fifties, with graying hair around the temples. Tall and lean, he was an honest-to-god silver fox and I couldn’t help but admire him.

Paul gave me a kiss on the cheek as I approached. “Hey, I’d like you to meet someone.” He turned his attention to the fox. “Sir, I’d like you to meet Jason Jennings, my boyfriend. Jase, this is Paul Connor, President of Connor and Markham.”

I shook Mr. Connor’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, Jason. Paul talks nonstop about you and it’s nice to be able to put a face to the name. I hope to see you around more, now that we’ve met.” He turned to Paul. “Son, we have that meeting in fifteen minutes. I’ll meet you upstairs.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It was good to meet you, Jason. I look forward to getting to know you.”

“Likewise, sir.” I answered. I was a little confused, why would the president of one of the nation’s largest marketing companies want to get to know me? I brushed it aside as him being polite.

Paul kissed my cheek again. “He likes you.”

“He doesn’t know me.” I said as we walked toward the stairs.

“Trust me, he knows more than you think.”

“You talk about me to your boss?”

“Yep.” Paul grinned like an idiot and I had a sense I was missing something, but he changed the subject as we climbed the stairs. “I have something extra special planned tonight. There’ll be a cab waiting outside your apartment at nine o’clock, make sure you’re in it.”

“But—”

Paul placed his finger over my lips. “No buts. Just be ready.”

I was left pondering the evening ahead as I made my way to my cubicle. I didn’t have time to dwell as Josie, a fellow cubicle prisoner, came up behind me.

“I can’t believe you’re dating Paul Connor Junior.”

I was stumped. “Uh, I’m not. I’m dating Paul Conway.”

“Nuh uh. I saw you this morning talking to him and his dad. His eyes never left you. God, I wish someone that rich and handsome would look at me like that. I bet he’s just as awesome in bed.”

Paul Connor Junior?

He was Paul Connor Junior. Heir to the marketing empire Connor and Markham. But he called Paul Senior sir; why not just call him Dad? Paul Senior had called him son. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now it was all sinking in. Everything started to fit in my squirrel brain. He didn’t want me to know who he was, and I had no idea why. But it didn’t matter. He had lied to me. He lied about who he was. Oh God, maybe he really did have a wife and kids. But why would he call me his boyfriend in front of his father? Nothing was making sense; all I knew was I was going to be sick.

“Jason, you don’t look too good.” Oh God, Josie was still standing beside me, and she was about to witness me go into a meltdown.

“Ugh, no, I’m not... feeling well. I think I should go home. Can you tell Charles I’m not feeling well?”
God, I can’t breathe.

On those parting comments, I raced out of the building. I just needed to get home, and then I would be able to breathe, I was sure of it. But when I got home, my lungs were tight. My chest ached, and I couldn’t swallow around the lump in my throat.

I paced my living room, pulling at my hair. Dave had long since fled to the bedroom, eager to get away from me. I couldn’t blame him. I must’ve been pacing my apartment for some time, because when I didn’t meet Paul for our usual lunch date, my phone rang. My stomach clenched when I saw his beautiful, lying face on my screen. I didn’t answer, letting the call go to voicemail, but it rang again and again. It stopped ringing after a while and I turned it off as I continued to pace around my apartment.

What was his game? Why would he lie to me about something so big? I didn’t care who he was. He could be a penniless janitor, and I’d still love him. Why would he do this to me?

My apartment buzzer sounded. I knew it wouldn’t be Paul; he’d still be at work.

I pushed the button. “Hello?”

“Jase, it’s me. Are you all right? I called your work when you didn’t show up for lunch or answer your phone, and they told me you went home sick. Let me in, babe.”

Anger flared, ripping through my veins like lava. “Go away you lying asshole. I don’t want anything to do with you,
Paul Connor Junior.”

There was a long silence. “Jase, please. I was going to tell you tonight at dinner, I promise. Let me in so we can talk. I’ll explain everything.”

“No. I don’t want anything to do with you. You
lied
to me. Leave me alone!”

The intercom was silent, and tears streamed down my face as my heart broke into a million pieces. Paul must’ve gotten the message and gone back to work. Part of me wanted to run after him and beg him to come back, but I tried to pull my pride back into place. But the longer the silence went on, the more my pride slipped.

I opened my apartment door, ready to run after him, beg his forgiveness, but I ran into a solid wall of Paul standing outside my door.

His arms came around me instantly. “Hey, what’s the rush? I don’t smell any smoke.” Paul’s attempt at humor burst into flames and died.

My pride, along with my anger, found their footing again and surged forward.

I pushed him away, poking him in the chest when his arms fell from me. “You lied to me. You’re not Paul Conway, Marketing Assistant.”

His face fell. “Yes, I lied to you, but before you throw me out, please listen to me. I have to explain why.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, blocking the door, and tried to look as intimidating as possible. I’m not sure it worked.

“Can I come in, please?”

When I didn’t move, Paul let out a heavy sigh and looked at his shoes. Goddamn my deeply ingrained manners. Reluctantly, I stepped aside to let him in.

“Where’s Dave?”

“Hiding from me,” I snapped as I closed the door behind him. “Talk and make it quick, I’ve got plans.”

Paul saw right through me and raised his eyebrow. “Really, what plans?”

“The plan to get you out of here.” Even saying those words felt pathetic. I didn’t want him gone and my chest tightened painfully again.

Paul’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry I lied. But I had to know you weren’t like the others. I couldn’t go through that again, not with you. Especially not you.”

When I didn’t reply he continued, his voice quiet and beaten down. “Most guys have always known who I was, and if they didn’t, they figured it out pretty quick. Most of them wanted a free ride, a meal ticket. Some wanted a sugar daddy. None of them loved me for who I am, they only wanted what I could do for them. Money, career advancement, the chance to be seen in the social pages. You name it, they all wanted something from me.”

“I only wanted
you
,” I whispered, my anger fleeing and leaving me cold.

“God, babe, I know. I hated keeping things from you but I had to be sure. I had to know if you were as genuine as I thought. That’s why I introduced you to my dad this morning.”

“Why did you call him sir and not dad? I thought I was meeting your boss.”

“I know and I’m sorry I deceived you. But there are two reasons. I always call him sir at work, never dad. It keeps a professional distance, especially during client meetings. Everyone knows I’m his son, but calling him dad in the office isn’t professional.”

“Okay. What’s the other reason?”

“Dad is good at reading people. That’s how he’s been able to build one of the most successful marketing companies in the US. Call it a sixth sense if you want, but he can pick up on people’s integrity and moral compass in an instant. He can also tell when people are trying to screw him over. He’s warned me about some of my boyfriends but I was too in lust to listen to him. It always came back to bite me on the ass.”

“Did I pass his test?” My anger had dissipated, but I was still on edge.

“With flying colors, babe. I knew you would.” Paul held his arms out for me to step into, but he dropped them when I didn’t move.

“You don’t have a wife and kids tucked away somewhere?” I needed to know I was the only one and my heart stuttered in anticipation of the answer.

Paul’s hesitant smile was small. “No wife or kids, although I do want kids someday.”

“I knew you were keeping something from me, I just didn’t know what it was.” I had to ask all the questions I had, while he was being open and honest. “What do you see in me? I mean, look at you compared with me. I’m a nothing and you’re...” I made a sweeping gesture that encompassed the entirety of
him
.

“How can you say that about yourself? You’re gorgeous. I love your small muscles and tight ass. You’re funny, even when you’re not trying to be. You’re strong and determined. You have more integrity in your big toe than all my previous boyfriends put together. You live life without worrying about what people think. Look at the way you danced during the Grease Dance Party. You danced with anyone and everyone and didn’t care one bit what people thought.”

Huh. I never thought of myself that way. I saw only an awkward, skinny bore who got overly enthusiastic with some things. There was something else I had to ask.

“Why do you fall asleep during the shows? You basically pass out fifteen minutes in and don’t wake until it’s over. Is it me, am I that boring a date?”

“Oh God. You’re really pushing for all the secrets now, aren’t you?” Paul tried again to lighten the mood, but when I remained stony-faced, he sighed before continuing. “I... don’t like musicals. I’m sorry but they bore me to tears.” He held up his hand. “Before you get all angry and upset, let me explain. I wanted to impress you, and I wanted to spend time with you. I’d seen you in the elevator reading your
Encore
magazine and the more I saw you the more I wanted to get to know you. I planned my mornings so I could wait for you at the elevator, hoping you’d throw me a lifeline, but you never did. You barely looked at me so I had to try something.”

“So you decided to scare the shit out of me in the stairwell?”

He grinned. “It worked didn’t it?”

I smiled. “Yes, but...”

“No buts. I had to do something. I’d been stalking the elevator for months before I got up the courage to speak to you, then you shot me down. I was crushed.”

“You... you were stalking me... for months?” This little piece of information blew my mind.

“Yes. I wanted to get to know you, but you were making it very difficult.”

“But you know so much about the plays, I thought you liked them as much as I do.”

“I researched. Every time I got tickets, I researched the cast, the costumes, the orchestra. All of it. I just wanted to be with you.”

Wow.
I couldn’t believe he would do all that for me, a pathetic cubicle accountant from the third floor. Maybe Paul saw something in me that I didn’t.

When Paul opened his arms again, I couldn’t resist. I stepped into them, wrapping my arms around his waist and letting his scent envelop me. I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes as I melted against him, soaking in his warmth.

Paul kissed the top of my head. “Do you have any plans for tonight?”

“No, why?”

“We’re having dinner with my family.”

THE CAB dropped me off outside the theater, and I fixed my wig as I walked up to the ticket booth. The doors were closed; no show was playing tonight, but a solitary twenty-something girl was sitting in the ticket booth.

“You must be Jason. Give me a minute to run around and open the door for you.”

“Okay?”

Why would Paul bring me to a theater that had no show playing?

The front door opened and the girl stood aside to let me in. “Please go down to the front row, Kenickie is waiting for you. The show will start shortly.”

“Thanks.”

I had no idea what was going on, but I followed her instructions. Paul knew of my Danny/Kenickie fantasy and I hoped to God he was dressed up.

When I entered the main theater it was empty. All the lights were dimmed but the stage was lit up like it would be for a performance. On stage was the front end of the Grease car and nothing else. When I stepped forward, the curtain closed, and I tried not to be disappointed. Apparently I wasn’t here to see a show.

In the dim light, I saw Paul/Kenickie holding his hand out for me to take, his eyes shimmering.

He pulled me into his arms and kissed me, long and deep.

“Hmm.” I breathed him in while I tried to get my mind out of that kiss.

“Come, sit. It will start in a minute.”

As Paul sat in the seat, he twitched. His leg bounced, he kept wiping his hands on his jeans. Just as I was about to ask him what was going on, the music started and the curtain rose. Danny and Kenickie were sitting in the Grease car, facing us, their arms around each other’s shoulder as Danny pretended to drive.

It took me only a second to recognize the song.
Hopelessly Devoted to You
rang out over the speakers as Danny and Kenickie took turns singing to each other, looking into each other’s eyes. The love they shared as they sang was tangible. I didn’t think anybody could act that well and it made me think these two actors were probably a couple off stage.

Of course, I sang along with them but it wasn’t until Paul stood up, dragging me into his arms to dance that I choked up, unable to get the words out. I didn’t need to sing, Paul sang all the words to me. Well, he tried to—he messed up a few lines but I didn’t care. I danced in his arms as I watched the two on stage make love to each other through the lyrics. It was something else and my chest tightened. I didn’t want the song to end. I wanted to keep watching Danny and Kenickie sing to each other and I really didn’t want my dance with Paul to finish.