Текст книги "Shut out "
Автор книги: Cee Smith
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Текущая страница: 1 (всего у книги 7 страниц)
Working at a law firm comes with its own set of rules, and Blaire has broken rule number one. Consorting with the opposition could get her fired. In the blink of an eye, all of her hopes, dreams, goals, and aspirations could be dismissed.
She knows this.
Joel, EJ—whoever he is—is the enemy. Persona non grata. Her mind is aware of his standing. But her body? Not so much. It remembers every moment shared. Every flirty smile and witty comeback. Every whispered word with carefully placed hands.
Falling into bed with him was easy. Getting him to stay away will be the hardest thing she’s ever faced.
Shut In is intended for mature audiences due to explicit language and mature themes.
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© 2015 Cee Smith
Editing by Erica’s Editing Services
Cover Design © Najla Qamber Designs
Shut Out (Just This Once series, Book 2)
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Chapter One
“Did you know?”
I spent hours staring at my phone, willing the bars to appear so I could finally tear into my friend and co-worker, Kerri.
“I’m assuming this is about Trevaunt?”
“You think?” I sounded hysterical, but the pain of learning the truth, of seeing Joel’s reaction when I confronted him—nothing could compare to the feeling of betrayal. Because when I looked in his eyes, I knew he had been keeping the truth from me. I just didn’t know when he started feeling guilty about it. Was it when he picked me up at the bar? Did he recognize me? My co-workers? Was everything planned from the very beginning? Was this an attempt to get the case potentially thrown out? Or were his intentions a little less nefarious. Did he only realize the truth after I opened up to him, revealing details of who I was and what I did for a living? Did I bring this on myself?
“I’m sorry, honey. I swear I didn’t know until I looked through my pants from that night. He looked familiar, but I was drunk. Everyone looks familiar. He’s been in hiding for weeks. I would never think he’d have the audacity to show up at a club. Did he tell you?”
“No! I found out on my own. He told me his name was Joel,” I said, recalling the exact moment that made everything click. “I feel like such a fucking idiot. I slept with him, Kerri—a defendant in a case with our client. I could get fired for this! All of my hard work—”
“Calm down, Blaire. What did he say when you called him out on it? Was he mad?”
I sifted through everything that happened yesterday. How I woke up surrounded by a thick arm pressing me up against the length of Joel’s body, wrapping me around the block of muscle like the cotton sheets that cocooned us. How I felt when he leaned in the doorway of my office watching me do yoga like he’d found enlightenment in the stretch of my limbs. The way I laughed while I clung to his back like a child riding a pony at a carnival, while he lifted the weight of my body up and down with every push-up.
It all came crashing down with the one slip of his name.
A name I wasn’t supposed to know.
A name that made me question if the man I spent the last week using my body like his own personal playground was the same man who pulverized our client’s face. I didn’t know what to think of that possibility, but what I did know was if my employers found out about my involvement with Mr. Trevaunt, I would be kissing my career goodbye.
“Mad? I don’t know. I wasn’t really concerned about his feelings, Kerri. What am I going to do? Should I tell Henderson? Maybe if I tell him first—”
“Absolutely not! You need to act like you didn’t know it was him! It’s believable. Hell, it’s the truth. You didn’t know it was him. I won’t say anything, and if Joel says anything, you can just say he concealed his real identity. Everything’s going to be fine, Blaire.”
I got off the phone with the acrid taste of lies and deceit still coating my tongue like morning breath. Asking Kerri how she weathered through the storm didn’t even cross my mind. In my defense, I was dealing with far more serious issues at the moment, such as whether or not I’d have a job by the end of the week. She didn’t seem too offended by my call. If anything she didn’t sound as surprised as I expected her to be. Truth be told, it wasn’t like I could blame her for my fuck up. If anything, all of the blame fell on me. The most she did was goad me by saying he was too much of a man for me. It wasn’t enough to have me drunkenly falling into his lap, but it was enough that when I left the bathroom only to find his smiling face staring into mine, I batted my eyelashes and may have even twined my hair around my fingers. That was after double-checking behind me to ensure there wasn’t someone taller, prettier, more modelesque standing behind me. I wasn’t so far drunk that embarrassment would have eluded me.
For the first time in days, I walked to the window, opening the blinds to allow the burn of light to drift into the room and brighten up the darkened part of my soul. Ever since the PSA aired across our phones saying it was safe to leave our homes, I hadn’t taken the time to look outside. I no longer cared about the stucco that surely littered my yard like crushed popcorn in a vacant theater.
The neighborhood mirrored what I felt inside. Apocalyptic. My yard faired better than some of the surrounding houses. The strength of the storm was apparent in the melon-sized rocks that sat in the center of the street amongst a river of various rocks and debris. If only my situation were as easy as picking up some misplaced rocks.
–The Day Before–
Prior to his visit to the club, Joel had been missing for weeks, evading my firm’s attempts to schedule a meeting with him and his lawyer. I’d even heard he’d been skipping out on his responsibilities at his newly inherited company.
Avoiding.
That’s what Joel was good at. I’d had a good dose of his medicine when we were cooped up in the house with nothing to do but have sex and learn details about each other. Except, whereas I was open and honest about who I was, the same couldn’t be said for Joel. He was sly like a fox and charming in a way that made me forget I hardly knew the man who had occupied my home for nearly seven days.
“You fucking knew when I talked about my job that my firm was representing your ex-girlfriend. How could you put me in such a compromising position? Is all of this just a fucking joke to you?”
“I…yes, but what did you expect me to say? We were stuck here together. Look at how you’re acting now. Imagine, if we were stuck together for another week with you knowing who I was.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like you’ve got the best decision-making skills—”
“Wait. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You don’t actually think I—”
“Ah! I don’t want to hear it,” I threw my hands over my ears like earmuffs, protecting myself from anything having to do with the open case. The only thing keeping me from looking like a complete freak was my lack of singing “la-la-la-la, I can’t hear you” over the words he so desperately wanted me to hear.
“I’m already too involved as it is. That’s if I even have a job after this, thanks to you.”
“You’re acting like I planned for this to happen.”
“Didn’t you?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, it’s just a fucking coincidence that you just so happened to be waiting for me when I left the bathroom.”
“Well, not exactly—”
“See! You planned it!”
“I noticed you earlier, and when I lost sight of you, I sought you out. You just so happened to be leaving the restroom at the same time I was standing outside. But I didn’t follow you to the club like some super-spy if that’s what you’re suggesting. That was the first time I even ventured to leave my house in weeks. I’m a fucking social pariah right now! Have you seen the things they’re saying about me? Two weeks ago, those same people were kissing my feet in honor of my father, and now they’re dragging me feet-first through the mud.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I know firsthand, and let me tell you, it’s not nearly as bad as it could be. They don’t have the pictures. They haven’t been tricked into fucking you.”
“It wasn’t a trick,” he responded, annoyed.
“You know, Joel, I don’t know a lot about you, but I know enough that you’ll talk me in circles before you see how wrong you are here. As soon as you’re safe to leave, I want you out of my house.”
“Well, it looks like I can do that now.”
His movements blurred as he stormed from the room, leaving to the bedroom where I imagined he was changing out of my brother’s stash of clothes and back into the suit that lay tossed across the top of my dresser.
Joel’s eyes clung to me the whole way to the door. His footsteps halted just inside of it. The air felt heavy, full of all of the unspoken words still lingering between us. Whatever he wanted to say, whatever words holding him hostage didn’t matter. Not after everything that had happened. I was staring down a problem like the edge of a cliff, with no option other than to jump and hope I survived the fall. “Sorry” wouldn’t be able to fix my problem.
He did that to me. Backed me into a corner, where I would either have to lie to my colleagues and hope they never found out about my one-night stand with the defendant in the Farrows case or tell them the truth and find myself looking for a new job.
At least I could say I put in the effort to keep my distance. Of course, I didn’t know who he was at the time. Lord knows I tried though. Every time he walked around my house without a shirt on, sometimes without pants on, when he was fresh from the shower and his hair was slick and damp reminding me that my panties probably held a similar look. He was too easy-going, too masculine. He smelled too good. I should have known that he was too good to be true. Men like that should come with a warning: “Could be hazardous to your life. At the very least your libido.” Because as I awoke the next morning in a bed full of cool sheets and the smell of him still clinging to my pillows, I realized how much of a failure I really was. I didn’t just let him between my legs; I let him into my heart. The room felt vacant without him. There was no sneaky finger looking to touch, no mischievous grin, no warm body to snuggle up to in the night. I was completely alone. It wasn’t the first time I’d been alone, but it was the first time I found it mattered to me.
Chapter Two
Like any other day, I went by Starbucks to pick up the usual. With how our conversation ended the day before, I was sure that Kerri wasn’t expecting me to bring her her morning java, but nothing says “I’m over it” like coffee, right? And I wanted her to know that, while I wasn’t over it, I had absolved her of any involvement leading to my mistake. Coffee was also the currency I used to pay for her silence. I didn’t even want Piper to know. The less people knew about our involvement the better, and seeing as how Kerri was the one with his business card, I was sure Piper wasn’t aware of who I left with that night.
The Law Offices of Henderson & Fitz were located a couple blocks northeast of my home in Summerlin. It was close enough to walk, but I always drove. Vegas didn’t really have mild days where you could just walk to work and still be as fresh as the first step through the front door. All of the elements were harsh. Summers were hot enough to fry an egg. Literally. I’d seen it. And winters were cold enough to freeze air on the worst days. Aside from the obvious, I liked Vegas. Sure, I didn’t gamble, but there were lakes nearby, and Red Rock Canyon was nice to hike on the days when I didn’t mind a little sweat.
It was a drastic change from growing up in Indiana where temperatures rarely peaked above 100 on the hottest days, and after six months, I was beginning to grow accustomed to the drastic weather and oftentimes-drastic people.
Pulling up to our offices, I sat in my car taking inventory of the damage the sandstorm had done. Aside from a smashed window on the first floor and the parking lot looking like a Zen garden full of white and peach rocks, the complex didn’t befall too much damage that one day’s work couldn’t fix.
With both hands filled with our workday fuel, I entered the building juggling both cups. The lobby was large and sterile with marble floors and abstract art that had to have been picked out by a man. I imagined it was Fitz who decided to go with the oversized canvases showcasing inanimate objects. After all, he did have random metal tchotchkes cluttering his own office.
Just inside the double doors was a large, curved desk where Piper sat, propped up like one of those Victorian dolls. Her long, brown hair hung in soft waves framing her perfectly dimpled cheeks and large, brown eyes. Piper was probably the sweetest, most innocent-looking person in the entire building, hell maybe even in all of Vegas.
“Still alive, I see?” I asked just as I set both cups on the edge of her desk. Piper swiped a few loose strands behind her ear and replied in that soft whisper of hers.
“I was a little nervous. You know, now that it’s just me at the house, but I managed.” She smiled shyly, and I wondered if it was getting any easier for her to talk about her divorce. I thought her going out to the club with Kerri and me was her announcement to the world that she was turning over a new leaf and she was finally free, but maybe that was just the alcohol talking, and now that she was sobered up, reality had set back in. She wasn’t Kerri—who was naturally vivacious. A personality trait she shared with a certain someone I was trying to push from my thoughts.
“And how did your house hold up? My neighborhood was a mess, but my house just needs a bit of re-patching.”
“Same here. Thankfully, the front held up. There’re just a few spots in the back that I’ll have to have someone come fix.”
“Well that’s good. Let me know who you end up using.”
“Will do.”
“Hey, is Kerri in yet?”
“Yes. Shocking, right? I think she’s still in the kitchen, if you’re looking for her.”
“Great. Thanks. Hey, call me later and let me know what your plans are for lunch.”
“Sure thing. See you.”
I entered the kitchen, finding Kerri bent over at the waist, looking through the cupboards, scavenging for the stash of snacks.
“Now that’s an eyeful.”
Kerri jumped, startled by the sound of my voice.
“What? Not used to being the first one here?”
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” she said, clutching her chest with a laugh.
“Here. I brought you a peace offering.” I held out the coffee and her hands wrapped around the white paper cup, drawing extra emphasis to her newly painted nails—a magenta color that matched her fuchsia blouse.
“I see someone kept themselves busy during the storm.”
She held her nails up to her face, inspecting the job she’d done.
“Not too shabby, eh? I had to keep myself busy somehow.” Her eyes twinkled with unspoken words, and I knew just what she meant. She wasn’t the one to wind up riding out the storm with a one-night stand.
“Hey, look, about yesterday—”
Kerri lifted the hand not holding her cup, stopping me from continuing my mea culpa.
“No need. I would have acted the same. Have you talked to him? You know, since the other day?” Her usually loud voice dropped to a whisper so anyone else who decided to pop in wouldn’t be able to hear our conversation. I was thankful for her discretion.
“No. What more is there to say? It’s not like we’re friends. This doesn’t need to be any messier than it already is.”
“I don’t know the details of what happened between you two this week, but I saw the way he looked at you at the club. I wouldn’t be so sure that you’ve burned that bridge. You don’t think he did it, do you?”
One thing in our line of business, especially in cases such as these, was it didn’t really matter what we thought. We weren’t being paid to decide whether or not what was being claimed to have happened actually happened—that was the police’s job. Ours was just to represent whoever paid us. Some days it was harder to ignore the facts than others, and Kerri’s question was making it that much harder to see past the truth. I didn’t know what happened between Lara and Joel, but the man I knew, the man I’d spent the last week in bed with—he couldn’t have done that. Maybe physically he was capable of making her face look like pummeled meat, but there was no way he could go through with something like that. At least I don’t think he could.
“I don’t know what happened between them, and aside from her being our client, I don’t want to involve myself in any more of the details. As far as I’m concerned, we’re done on my end. I couldn’t care less if he had other ideas as to how this was going to turn out.”
Just then, Henderson walked in, whistling as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Maybe the week off was a bit of a vacation for the partners. Although, I assumed if I was busy working on a case that wasn’t even mine, then they were working just as hard to keep up with their caseloads.
“Oh, hello ladies. How are you this morning?” Kerri and I mumbled our responses, killing the conversation with a simple meeting of eyes. By the time Henderson responded, we were already by the door, readying our escape. I caught my breath out in the hallway and widened my eyes at Kerri. She stopped for a moment too, brushing off her own anxiousness before continuing her way down the hall toward her desk.
The day passed by in a flurry of ruffling papers and people scurrying about. Every time Henderson or Fitz would even walk in the direction of my desk, my spine would stiffen and my breathing would accelerate. I felt like there was a target on my desk, steering everyone to drift my way so I would be on edge for the entirety of the day. It made getting any work done almost impossible. When the workday was finally over, without so much as a look of disappointment directed at me, I knew I was in the clear—at least for the day.
Driving home, I thought over what Kerri had said that morning. Is Joel just waiting for the right time to reach out to me, or is he moving on as if the last week meant nothing to him? I shouldn’t have cared. I wasn’t supposed to care, but lying in bed that morning with Joel being the first thing on my mind, I wondered if he felt alone in his bed that morning, too. Probably not. I’d never been to his place. It was only my house that was now littered with memories, like glitter sticking to every surface, and no matter how much I tried to wash him from my sheets and all surrounding surfaces, he still clung to me.
I turned onto my street and noticed a van parked just outside my house. It was white with dark blue writing on the side, looking like some kind of carpet cleaning service. There was plenty of parking on the street, leaving me slightly annoyed that they just so happened to park directly in front of my home, but as I drove closer, I noticed men stomping across my yard. I pulled into the driveway, deciding not to drive into the garage like usual.
The men continued walking around my yard as I got out of my car. They carried items back and forth between the van, undeterred by my appearance.
“Are you Blaire? Sorry I don’t have a last name,” the man in acid-washed jeans and a sweat-soaked shirt asked while looking down at his clipboard, somehow confused by the absence of my name.
“Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t order…” I spun around, looking at the work they were doing. Some men were vacuuming up the fallen bits of stucco from my front yard, while another pair were slabbing spatulas filled with putty against the side of my house—repairing the damage my house incurred by the storm.
“Looks like you got an admirer. Anyway, I just need a signature. The boys should be done in about a half an hour, and we’ll be out of your hair.”
“Oh, OK.”
Still stunned by what he said, I absently took the offered pen from his hand, signed, and handed it back to the man before continuing my way to the front door. The path curved around the edge of my house, and I stopped at the vision before me. A tall rectangular vase sat on my stoop with a couple hundred yellow roses covering the bottom of my door. I didn't need to read the card to know who they were from, but that didn't stop me from curiously looking for the card while unlocking the door.
“Do you need help with those?” the man with the clipboard asked as I stared at the mass of flowers that would have to be carried in sideways just to fit them through the door.
“Would you mind?”
“No. Of course not. Here, let me get—” He didn't finish his sentence before he was hunched over, lifting the vase from the ground. I pushed the door open, stepping in first to hold the door open for him. He stepped inside, his eyes moving about the room as he looked for a place to set the flowers down.
“Oh, I'm sorry. Can you just set them over there?” I pointed at the dining room table and watched the flowers bob and sway as he lugged them through the living room before setting them down on the table.
When the door closed behind him, I made my way over to the vase of flowers. Setting my purse down, I plucked the card I'd spotted while I was admiring the flowers when I was outside.
Thank you for your hospitality.
Please call me—
Joel
The same business card I was sure was stuffed inside Kerri's bin was inserted into the envelope. I didn't know what to make of his words. It looked like something he'd have his assistant send me—one more thing to take care of in addition to his dry cleaning and takeout, I presumed. I was offended by the winter-cold language and lack of personality, especially after everything that had happened.
Crumpling the card, I tossed it in the trash just inside the kitchen doorway. Thirsty, I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and ignored the groan of the fridge as it rattled from my enthusiastic close. I grabbed a bag of Chex mix from the pantry and returned to the living room to unwind after a long day. I ripped open the bag and the assortment scattered across the sofa. The more I tried to pick up the mess, the more they crumbled beneath my hands. When I felt the need to take a break from sweeping up crumbs, I finally acknowledged my anger. Except, I wasn’t sure if it was from the fact that I was still mad about his lie or that he didn’t put much effort into a sincere apology. The gifts were nice and unexpected, but just like that card, they lacked personalization.
I didn't know why it bothered me, especially since I didn't expect to ever speak to or hear from him again. The truth I tried so desperately to drown out, but what kept resurfacing with a vengeance, was I didn't want there to be an end to us. I was having a hard time getting my heart on the same page as my head because continuing any kind of communication with him was a sure-fire way to ruin my life and all the hard work I'd put in to make it that far.
I calmed down enough to finish picking up the crumbs still dotting my couch while I convinced myself I was making the right decision. Even if I was completely over the fact that he lied to me, I wasn’t about to risk my job for him. I’d sacrificed a lot for this job—my life back home, nights out with friends. Who knows how many friends I could've made or relationships I could’ve had instead of spending my nights researching cases?
All of my routines felt foreign without Joel around. I couldn't explain it, but in the week I'd spent with him, I'd seen a side of myself I had all but forgotten. Wasn't that what my ex, Chase, complained about? Where I considered myself focused and driven, he considered me boring and methodical. Clearly, I had the capability to have fun and live life outside of my job; maybe I just hadn't found the one person who would make me want to do that. Of course, it just so happened to be that the one person who could bring out the fun, carefree side of me would be the one person who, above all else, I shouldn't have any contact with outside of my job. Hell, seeing as how I wasn't assigned to that specific case, I wasn't so sure that I should have had any contact with him at all.
Before I knew it, the show I had been staring at for the last hour was ending, and if anyone would have asked me what it was about, or who was in it for that matter, I wouldn't have been able to say. The bag that I'd been dipping my hand into without thought as to what I was putting in my mouth was now empty, and I sat all alone on my couch in work clothes that now looked as strained as I felt.
“Please call me,” he wrote, but I wondered if he was actually waiting for my call. Is his night just as shitty as mine while he waits by the phone for me to call him? What did he expect? To pick up where we’d left off? Thank him for the flowers and the help with my house? Who was I kidding? If things were different, I’d be inviting him over to show him how thankful I really was. I doubted he was waiting around for my call anyway—not Playboy Joel who probably had a phone full of numbers for women waiting and eager to fill in the new vacancy. Now that things were back to normal, we both could return to reality, where he wouldn’t spend a second night with me and I wouldn’t have the time of day for him. Except, the memories of him were too intense, his image circulating through my body like blood in my veins, only pulsing faster with each thought.
I needed sleep. Needed a break from that house. From work. From green eyes and conjured smiles. I needed a break from reality.
Even in my sleep I dreamed of him, of a night that felt endless, with warm air that lapped at my skin like rushing waves and writhing bodies that seemed to evoke a need in me that couldn’t be relieved. It was just like that night in the club—I seemed to be stuck in a liquor haze where everything was euphoric, but none of it was real. I watched the words unfurl from his lips, how they looked soft and plump, how the words made his mouth pinch together and purse. It looked like he was inadvertently blowing air kisses. I mentally grabbed hold of those kisses, pocketing them for later while taking note of what he actually said.
“Do you come here often?”
Real Joel wouldn’t use a line as tired as that, but I went along anyway.
“No. You?” I asked, already knowing the truth. Joel looked too comfortable there. How he sat at the bar like a king on his thrown, while everyone seemed to move around him like court jesters, there for his amusement.
“Only when I’m looking for a luscious piece of ass. I think it’s safe to say I found her.”
And like every other night, just when I was getting to the good part, my alarm went off.
