Earning Yancy (NSFW #2) Page 10

  As I spoke, Charles’ face softened. “I think I understand what you’re trying to say.” He took a deep breath. “And I understand why. Having seen your ex and heard what you have to say about him, I can’t blame you for wanting to take your time. He’s a real piece of work.”

  I nodded.

  He studied me closely when he spoke once again. “Are you sure you don’t have feelings for him any longer?”

  My eyes widened and my body bucked as I started laughing loud and hard. I managed to calm down enough to speak. “F-f-feelings for him? The only feelings I have for him are the kind that may get me thrown in jail if I act on them. He hasn’t had my heart for a very long time.”

  Something that looked a great deal like relief flashed over Charles’ face. “Okay. Your reaction to him earlier was so strong, I had to wonder if that was because you still loved him.”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t love him. Sometimes I wonder if I ever truly did or if maybe I just loved the idea of him. He was impulsive and fun and nothing like me. I should have known then that things wouldn’t turn out well.”

  Charles continued to look down at me, his face still serious. “We can take our time, Yancy.” A smile began to creep across his face. “I do have one confession, though.”

  Wary, I asked, “What?”

  “I’ll probably try to make you angry from time to time.”

  “Why?” My brow furrowed. He was so confusing.

  “Because you’re hot as hell when you get mad.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  THE NEXT DAY, I could barely focus on work. I kept waiting for Cooper to bang on the door, or call on the phone. It was nerve-wracking, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I didn’t want to call my mother or my sisters because they would freak out, which would increase my anxiety further.

  Last night, after we kissed for a while, Charles made me promise that I would call or text him if Cooper showed up again, no matter the time, and he left. I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. I appreciated his concern, but this wasn’t Charles’ problem. It was mine.

  It was a little before noon on Thursday and I was sitting at my desk in my home office. Instead of working, as I should have been, I was staring blankly at my computer screen, thinking about everything that had transpired the night before.

  When the doorbell rang, my back went rigid. Convinced it was Cooper again, I flew down the stairs. I peeked through the small windows on either side of my door and saw a woman standing on the steps, a bouquet of flowers in her hands.

  Frowning, I pulled the door open. “May I help you?” I asked.

  The woman smiled at me, her blonde ponytail swinging. “Yancy Stevens?”

  “Yes.”

  She held out the flowers. “Delivery for you.”

  I took the vase, unsure who would be sending me flowers. I thanked her and shut the door. Kathy came out of the kitchen, Carolena in her arms.

  “Oh, someone sent you flowers. They’re beautiful!”

  “Boo-ti-fuh,” Carolena parroted.

  I grinned as she butchered the word because it was so damned cute.

  “Who are they from?” Kathy asked.

  I shrugged and carried them to the dining room table. I searched among the blossoms until I found a small white envelope with my name scrawled across it. I plucked it from the arrangement and pulled out a little card.

  Even with the interruption, I enjoyed last night.

  When can I kiss you again?

  ~Charles~

  My heart turned over in my chest. I knew why he’d sent flowers. Though we hadn’t been dating for long, Charles understood me better than I realized. He knew I would spend the day brooding about Cooper and why he appeared unexpectedly on my doorstep the night before. In his own subtle way, he was trying to make me forget about the bad and focus on the good.

  And because I was a huge marshmallow inside, it worked.

  I brushed my fingers across the arrangement of roses, tulips, and irises. It was beautiful.

  “They’re from Charles.”

  Kathy arched an eyebrow. “And who is Charles?” she drawled.

  I smiled. “The man I’m seeing.”

  She grinned and whooped, which set Carolena off in a gale of giggles. “You’re dating? That’s great! How did you meet him and why did I not know about this before?”

  I felt my face heat. “It’s fairly recent and I met him at work.”

  “You really like him, don’t you?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah.” I swallowed. “It’s a little scary. It just feels like this is happening so quickly.”

  Kathy smiled at me. It was wise and compassionate. “Did I ever tell you the story of how I met my husband, Brad?”

  I shook my head.

  “Come into the kitchen while I finish making lunch and I’ll tell you about it.”

  I left the flowers on the dining room table. I decided that I would take them upstairs after lunch and put them on my dresser. Kathy put Lena in her high chair and gave her a few blueberries to snack on.

  “Well, about twenty-five years ago, I was working as an assistant to an architect. One day, this man comes into the office wearing jeans and a flannel shirt and I swear I could barely take my eyes off of him. Every time he looked at me, I was tongue tied. Then he proceeded to be extremely rude to me.” She chuckled under her breath at my outraged expression. “Don’t worry, sweetie, there’s a lot more to this story.” She paused, checking the tuna casserole in the oven. “Anyway, that cured me of my inability to speak. Unfortunately, before I could tell him off, my boss came out of the office. However, I did give him a glare that should have burned the skin off his bones.”

  She trailed off, still smiling to herself. Just as I was about to ask her what else happened, she continued. “When he came out of the meeting, I was walking down the hall to the file room. The damned man had the gall to follow me. He pushed his way inside and proceeded to block the door. I told him off and, to my utter shock, he apologized for his bad behavior. Then he asked me out to dinner. I immediately said no thank you, but he refused to let me leave until I agreed.” Kathy’s smile grew almost blinding. “Somehow he managed to talk me into marrying him within six months of that first date. He still drives me nuts sometimes, but he’s my other half.”

  I felt like a complete sap, but I loved that story. I’m sure there was a lot more to it than Kathy said, but she still had more to say.

  “My convoluted point, Yancy, is that, if I had stuck to my guns and refused to go out with him because of a bad first impression, I would have missed out on something wonderful.”

  I blinked. I hadn’t told her anything about how horrible the first month of working with Charles had been. How did she know?

  Kathy came over to the kitchen table and squeezed my hand. “Don’t let the past behavior of Cooper Stevens interfere with the joy that you’re being offered today.” I realized that she hadn’t been talking about what I thought. “You’re a smart woman and I know that you aren’t painting all men with the same brush, but you can be too cautious in matters of the heart. Waiting around to be sure of yourself or the man you’re with can be just as bad as thinking all men are alike. People will disappoint you. They will make mistakes. The question is; are they willing to admit it and show you that they can be different? If the answer is yes, then you shouldn’t hold back out of fear. You should grab your happiness with both hands, hon, because you only get one life and it’s too damned short to waste it on what ifs.”

  I felt tears forming along my lower eyelids. Kathy was absolutely right. Since he apologized for his attitude all those weeks ago, everything Charles had said and done proved what kind of man he was. He wasn’t snowballing me. Even when Cooper had been putting on a good face, he’d never been as considerate or tender as Charles.

  I stood up. “Excuse me, Kathy. I have a phone call to make.”

  Acting as though she had no idea what I was about to do, she nodded. “Of c
ourse, Yancy. Lunch will be ready in fifteen minutes.”

  I leaned down and kissed Carolena’s forehead before I walked out of the kitchen. I snagged the flowers before I headed upstairs to my office, where my cell phone sat on my desk. I placed the flowers on the small table in front of my little couch so I could see them from my desk and picked up my phone.

  I dialed Charles’ number.

  “Hi.” His voice was low and warm, and he sounded glad that I called.

  “Hi.” I knew I was smiling like a complete goof, but I didn’t care. “I got the flowers. They’re beautiful. Thank you for trying to cheer me up.”

  “Did it work?”

  I laughed softly. “Yes, it did.”

  “Good.”

  We sat in silence for a moment and I knew I needed to say something but I wasn’t sure how. Finally, I blurted out, “What are you doing Saturday?”

  His response made me smile again. “Something with you.”

  “Great. How about Carolena and I take you out for a picnic?”

  Charles didn’t speak for a long moment and I found myself wondering if maybe I’d misread him after all. Then, he asked, “Are you sure? I meant what I said last night. We can take all the time you need.”

  His words further convinced me that I was making the right choice.

  “I had a very, well, enlightening conversation with Kathy this morning and I realized that I’m not being cautious for my daughter, I’m doing it out of fear, and that has to stop.”

  “Okay.” He paused. “Who’s Kathy again?”

  I chuckled. “She’s Carolena’s weekday sitter. She’s great.”

  Charles’ voice was warm. “I think I like her already.” I heard someone speak in the background. “Um, Yancy, I have to go into a meeting. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Okay. Thanks again for the flowers.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll talk to you tonight.”

  “Bye,” I said.

  Charles disconnected and I sat at my desk, no longer worrying about Cooper Stevens. Instead, I was trying to decide what food to pack for our picnic on Saturday. A few minutes later, I realized I needed to stop daydreaming, eat lunch, and get back to work.

  THE REST OF the week was stressful. On Thursday evening, Cooper called the house and insisted that he needed to speak to me in person. Of course, I refused. I told him that anything he had to say to me could be done over the phone. The conversation had deteriorated into a nasty little spat after that and I’d hung up on his mean-spirited tirade when Carolena started to cry. I hated that this insanity with her father was getting anywhere near her, close enough to possibly hurt her. She might not be old enough to remember it, but I always would.

  I didn’t get to talk to Charles that night because Carolena was somewhat fussy and I prayed that she wasn’t getting sick again. Fortunately, I was able to spend some time texting with him after she finally fell asleep.

  On Friday, my cell phone was inundated with text messages from Cooper. He still wanted to see me and he actually apologized for his horrible words the night before. Realizing that he intended to pester me until I gave in, I told him to give me the weekend to think about it and I laid it out for him. If he wanted to see me, he couldn’t contact me with so much as a text over the weekend. Surprisingly, he agreed.

  I only saw glimpses of Charles at work that day. Apparently, he had something to complete with another project manager. He texted me with a promise to call me after work and an apology for not being available for lunch as we’d planned. Considering how my life seemed to have been turned upside down over the last two days, it was probably a good thing that I had some space.

  I sent a message to Chelsea, Grier, Lucy, and Tanya to see if they were all available for lunch. Surprisingly, all four of them were free. Rather than eat in the atrium as we usually did, Tanya suggested that we go to the Chinese restaurant nearby. We all agreed to meet in the lobby at noon and walk since the warm weather from Wednesday had continued through the rest of the week.

  I managed to get most of my inbox cleared by noon and I shut down my computer. I locked my office and headed downstairs to meet the girls. I hugged Lucy and Grier since it felt like forever since I’d last seen them. We walked the two blocks to the restaurant, talking and laughing, just catching up in general.

  Chelsea teased Lucy about putting up with Chris for so many years and asking her if she was sure she wanted to be stuck with him for the rest of her life. Lucy, being her usually snarky self, laughed it off and told Chelsea that Chris wasn’t like that with her anymore, not if he wanted to get laid on a regular basis.

  I found myself shaking my head at her boldness. Lucy had a tendency to say exactly what she was thinking. I never had the confidence for that and I worried too much about hurting someone’s feelings. While she tried to be tactful, Lucy still said what was on her mind.

  Grier told us a little about her vacation, though I sensed yet again that she held something back. When she noticed that I was watching her, she averted her eyes. I decided that I would make some time to talk to her soon. She didn’t seem like herself.

  Neither did Tanya. She was uncharacteristically quiet and she looked exhausted. While her hair and make-up were their usual perfection, I could see the shadows beneath her eyes and her lids looked slightly swollen as though she might have been crying. I didn’t like it. Like Grier, every time she caught me looking at her, she refused to meet my eyes.

  We managed to get a table as soon as we entered the restaurant. In a tactic that I recognized as an effort to evade my questions, Tanya announced, “Yancy went to The French Room on her date this weekend and I caught them making out in the front seat of his car afterwards.”

  Immediately, all eyes turned to me.

  “Yay!” Chelsea squealed.

  I flinched at the volume and duration of her exclamation. Lucy and Grier merely applauded. For a moment I thought they were going to give me a standing ovation. I glared at Tanya before I responded.

  “Thanks for sharing, Tanya. I’m sure the girls would rather talk about something other than my non-existent social life at lunch.”

  Lucy shrugged. “Not really. I think they’re sick of listening to me gush about Chris.”

  Chelsea made a gagging noise. “Yes. Sick and tired. I have to see the man all day and now I have to listen to my best friend talk about his stamina in the sack.” She looked at me. “Do you know how traumatizing that is? Seriously, I know things about that man that no employee should ever know about their boss.” She whirled and pointed a finger at Lucy. “And he knows that you talk. Did you know that? I think it makes him uncomfortable too. We can’t even look at each other in the office.”

  Lucy shrugged. “He’s known me for a long time. He knew what he was getting into.”

  I laughed, because she was right. If Chris truly had a problem with something Lucy said or did, she wouldn’t do it. As it was, I think he also knew to pick his battles because Lucy was probably one of the most headstrong, independent people I’d ever met. Much like the man that loved her.

  Chelsea waved her hand to stop the conversation. “Enough. We’re supposed to be talking about Yancy’s date.”

  I shot the waitress a grateful look as she came up, introduced herself, and took our drink orders. I was almost sad to see her walk away because I knew the girls would start interrogating me as soon as she was gone.

  “So, how was The French Room?” Grier asked. “I’ve always wanted to go.”

  “It was amazing,” I answered. “The food, the wine, the atmosphere. It was romantic and probably one of the best dates of my life. I really enjoyed it.”

  “Forget that romantic crap,” Chelsea said. “I want to hear more about the making out. Is he a good kisser?”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “There’s nothing wrong with romance, Chelsea.”

  “Romance, shmomance. It’s not my thing. All romance is for is so a man can soften us up and get to the good stuff faster,” she quipped
.

  “God, you’re so fucking cynical,” Lucy interrupted. “Even Chris Barden, the least sentimental person I’ve ever met, can give good romance.”

  Chelsea’s face lost some of its amusement. “Yes, but he’s been in love with you for a long time, Lucy. Romance on a first, or even third, date is usually just a thinly veiled attempt to see what you keep in your underwear.”

  Before I could respond, Tanya waved her hands. “Enough. If I had known that my little announcement would begin a debate on the motivations of men, I wouldn’t have spoken up.”

  The table fell silent. Tanya loved to argue. She was a lawyer, it was her job. She never stopped discussions such as this one. In fact, she loved to play Devil’s advocate, egging us on.

  “Are you okay, Tanya?” Grier asked.

  Suddenly, Tanya’s face seemed to fall and the mask she’d been wearing disappeared. I could see fatigue and sadness etched in her face and shimmering in her eyes.

  “Oh, God, what’s wrong?” Lucy asked.

  Tanya rubbed her forehead. “Look, I can’t talk about it right now, okay? I just need a little time before I start hashing through it all.”

  I leaned over and put arm around her shoulder. “You’re not sick or anything?” I asked hesitantly.

  She shook her head and huffed out a bitter laugh. “Oh, I’m sick all right, but it’s not fatal.” She cleared her throat. “No, I’m not physically sick, just stressed. I just have some things happening at work that are hard to deal with.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Grier asked.

  Tanya shook her head. “I do, just not now. If we discuss this, it will need to be over copious amounts of booze and junk food.”

  We all nodded, a somber mood hovering over our table. With some women, you could press for more information and get them to open up. With Tanya, it only served to piss her off and make her walk away, so we all kept our mouths shut.