In front of the closed office door now.
Why am I so nervous? I survived Jim behind closed doors—I can survive this guy!
She knocked.
The door opened with a swirl of musk and sea breeze, Sean’s signature smell. No cologne today, thank the Lord. It was all Sean.
He still smells like heaven.
The look of surprised pleasure crossing his handsome face did not help the situation.
“Hi,” he said, glancing behind her. Not seeing who he was expecting, vivid green eyes settled on hers as he quickly relaxed, leaning against the door frame and letting his lips curl into a small smile.
“What brings you down here?” His voice was as close to a sexy purr as a masculine man could articulate.
Her legs started tingling and her brain stuck to the side of her skull. She could barely hear over the pounding of her heart. All she could think was, ABORT, ABORT, ABORT! Get the hell out of there! You’re no match for him!!! Save yourself while you can!
Then a new, more terrifying thought occurred to her. Did she remember deodorant that morning? Because she was sweating like a trucker and it would be a mite embarrassing if she’d forgotten deodorant.
“Uh, hi,” she stammered. She shifted her weight to her right foot. That felt weird, so she shifted back. He smiled devilishly. “I got your mug—my mug. Thanks.”
“Oh, no problem. Thought I could try and at least put it back together so you could give it a proper burial.”
“I put it on my shelf. But um…I can’t accept this.” She held out the gift card matter-of-factly, trying to ignore the slow unraveling of her nerves. She didn’t have much time before her clothes fell off by themselves.
~*~*~*~
Sean’s eyes flicked to Krista’s hand and back to her eyes. He didn’t care about the card. He didn’t care about the mug. He wanted to know what caused her to be so sad the other day. He wanted to know why he made her nervous. He wanted her. Bad.
He kept his tone cool, though. She’d run out of there faster than the roadrunner if she caught his arousal. For some reason, she seemed to be genuinely surprised when people thought she was beautiful. Or sexy. How could a woman, looking like she did, moving as if the world was a giant water bed, not know what she did to the opposite sex? It was the strangest thing.
Right now, he had to get his toehold before John came down and broke up the party. Sean had a promise to collect.
“It’s only $20. Least I could do.”
“No, I mean, I can’t accept Starbucks.”
Sean’s head tilted and his brow furrowed. He didn’t say anything.
“I am a Seattle girl,” Krista went on, trying unsuccessfully to hide a small tremor in her voice. His balls tightened hopefully. “Starbucks is the enemy. Can’t set foot inside one. Can’t do that to Seattle’s Best coffee.”
Sean’s face lit up in understanding, then fell again in confusion as Krista cocked her head marginally to the side, closer to her shoulder. He could’ve sworn she sniffed, as if smelling her armpit on the sly.
Did people really do that in public?
Chuckles bubbled out at her absurdity, his smile burned brighter. “Got it. How could I be so insensitive?”
Krista let out a bark of laughter. “My question exactly. Anyway, I thought I’d return it so you can use it.”
“That would still be setting foot inside Starbucks…”
“Right.” Sean smiled and took the gift card hesitantly, his finger brushing her thumb. Sparklers went at the base of his groin. It was like Fourth of June and his dick wanted to celebrate.
“Okay, well...” Krista let the words trail, the usual dazed fear crossing her face. Instead of finishing whatever she started to say, mouth open, she turned abruptly.
Sean stepped forward, realizing he was losing her! “Krista--”
By the miracle of angels, she stopped. And turned, a curious expression on her face. It looked like she was dreading what he’d say next, but dying to hear it. Now was the time.
He opened his mouth to take a chance, when the elevator chimed and John came barreling out. Sean could have cursed in his frustration. Instead, in the defeat of the moment, he said, “Have a good day.”
Krista’s brow crumpled for a brief second before she caught sight of John heading up the hall. When she turned back she was speculative.
She’d look like a million dollars in my shirt with a sleepy smile and tousled hair. Sean thought.
“Sure,” was all she said before she was striding toward the elevator.
John, ever the creep, turned his head and caught a look at her butt. “Sean. What’d she want?”
“Here,” Sean handed John the gift card. “I dropped this in the break room and she was returning it. I don’t drink Starbucks, though. All yours.”
“Of course you do. We were there yesterday.”
“I didn’t say I’ve never drank Starbucks. I gave it up.”
“When? Since yesterday?”
“Since this morning. C’mon, let’s see those numbers.”
Chapter Three
The next morning brought with it another present on Krista’s desk. This time it was a gift card for Peet’s Coffee. The note said,
“Maybe Seattle’s Best won’t be offended with another specialty coffee retailer. –Sean”
She had seen Peet’s, but hadn’t tried it. Unlike Starbucks—the enemy!—she wanted to try a cup, see what they had to offer, but she hadn’t bothered to spend the money with free, and decent, work coffee. With donated money, though, why not?
She decided she’d take her lunch break, wander into one, find a mug, and try some coffee. Problem was, lunch wasn’t for another four to five hours. It would seem like longer, too, because the report due tomorrow was already done. All she had to do was sit at her desk, staring, waiting for a work stork to drop another project.
Actually, to hell with it. Who would tell on her, Mr. Montgomery’s assistant Larry? He never came her way. Not ever. He’d walk around the perimeter of Heaven if it meant avoiding her. He avoided everyone, it was true, but it was a complex with her. She had a feeling it had something to do with her always saying hi, no matter the scowl. He hated being talked to. Hated people in general. Such a queer department in which she found herself.
The day was sunny but breezy. In San Francisco, the nicest time of year started now, in the fall. It was apparently called the Indian summer. The fog cleared up, for the most part, and the sun shone bright and sometimes hot. It was proper California weather and Krista loved it.
She hadn’t gone far before she saw a small Peet’s Coffee shop. It was still busy, the morning rush in the Financial District lasting until about ten, but the line wasn’t atrocious. She figured she’d skirt around it and find a mug.
Narrowly avoiding a kamikaze caffeine attack nearly sprinting for the line, she found the stand of mugs and bee-lined.
“Oh! They’re nice,” she noted to no one in particular.
A man in a black suit with a pink tie looked at her like she might be a crazy homeless woman. Seeing she was dressed in business attire, he only marginally shifted away.
She did a sweep with her eyes and found one right off the bat. It nearly jumped into her hand it was so perfect. It was bigger than the one from work—God rest its porcelain soul—and more artfully decorated. It looked a little like the old stone one might see in a winery in Italy. It had earth-colored designs that were understated but gave the mug that little extra something.
To Krista, it was love at first sight. She hugged it to her and vowed not to break it.
She paid for the mug but still had about $10 left on the gift card, so she got two regular coffees; it was still a super sweet gesture, twice in a row. She knew Sean never added sugar, and only occasionally added creamer—she hated that she knew this—so she left his black. Assuming the coffee was good, she was taking a risk with that one, she left hers black as well so she could taste it. If it tasted like burnt ass, she could always get cream and sugar from the break room.
Once again she found Sean’s office, but this time her heart wasn’t beating out of control. There were butterflies, but not the kind that threatened to purge her breakfast bar. She was doing okay.
When she got there, all her defenses up again, she realized he wasn’t in.
Purposely not looking around like the stalker she’d become in the last 24 hours, she put the coffee on his desk and wrote a note saying thanks, with portrait of her new mug. Ben would not be proud of her efforts. Then, for the sport of it, she also noted directions to the microwave for his soon–to-be-cold coffee.
She snorted to herself. She was hilarious, no two ways about it.
Although, if he didn’t get the humor, he’d think she was calling him dumb. So then…either she was hilarious or a bitch…
Story of her life.
The next day she only saw Sean from a distance. He spared her a glance as he chatted to some art person about a brightly colored poster board. The day after was the same, getting a glimpse of him as the elevator doors closed. That time she allowed herself a small smile in greeting. A few more meetings and the smile got bigger. A few more after that and the words flowed more easily. He was chatty and cordial, easily engaging her in conversation and keeping her interest. And while occasionally he looked at her with an intensity that made her squeamish, usually he kept it light and playful. In the safe zone.
There were two problems, though. One was that she didn’t completely trust herself around him. He drew her in a way she’d never experienced before. Like light to a black hole, she couldn’t resist letting her attentions get sucked in. Her stomach exploded in butterflies every time she saw him, and her spine tingled pleasantly. While this was a great thing in movies and stories, with Sean, it was a very, very bad thing. She knew this because of the second problem. The man was constantly the subject of gossip.
Women often chatted about his past conquests, whether in work or out. He’d dated a few girls around the office, it was said, getting them into bed almost immediately, and just as quickly stepping away and leaving them hanging. While Krista hadn’t seen proof, most girls got sucked in by the effervescent salesman. Krista wasn’t the only one. She wasn’t special.
A few months went by in that way; she chatted with Sean, and she allowed herself to laugh and loosen up, but she tried to maintain distance. She did not want to get taken for a fool. She didn’t want to end up like the other girls, and she wanted to steer clear of the rumor mill.
Arriving at 7:15 a.m. on a chilly Friday in early December, Krista grabbed her mug and headed to the break room. She was a bit early to see Sean, or anyone else, but she couldn’t wait like she usually might just to catch a snippet of his conversation. She was dead tired from watching Ben work on that blasted painting.
She couldn’t help it; watching him work was kind of funny. The kid really got into it. It was like a modern dance. He used his whole body to portray whatever thought or feeling was going through his head, and then furiously put paint to canvas. He had colors and brushes everywhere. He had Abbey nearly foaming at the mouth. But he would finish the painting or be damned. He’d basically told Abbey so. And since he was right about the roommate situation, Abbey sat and took it.
As Krista crossed the threshold of the break room, lost in her own world, she realized there was already someone in there. It was when she was ten feet away that a bucket of cold water overturned atop her head.
Sean was standing in front of the coffee pot with a girl from Accounting. The girl was pretty-ish in an overdone sort of way, and she was enthralled. She stood with her body slightly bent toward him, allowing him visible access down her shirt. The way his body leaned into her, and the minimal space between them, it was clear he was taking her up on her offer. Their faces were only inches apart, their lips too close for even the best of friends.
As Krista stood and stared, dumb-founded, he reached his hand up to trace her jaw, then let it fall to her heaving chest. Krista watched in horror, like a car accident in progress, as he lightly traced the outside of her boob.
A thrill of pain consumed her. She remembered that lust-filled look; she saw it on Jim often when he checked out other girls right in front of her. There was no interest, no soft light of intimacy, no sharing of mutual respect. Last night Sean got a piece of ass, and the morning after he was making the most of it, possibly putting this chick in his pocket for a booty call at a later date.
Krista’s heart dropped. She couldn’t say why a pallor settled over her, but as Sean leaned in, letting his lips graze against the woman’s ear, Krista couldn’t help the sick feeling that twisted her stomach.
Thanks for the proof, buck-o. Not a moment too soon.
Wanting to get her coffee and get out of there, Krista cleared her throat behind them.
Sean’s head snapped up, caught her eyes, and then he jumped away from the woman, a guilty expression crossing his face before his features smoothed over. His latest conquest, on the other hand, superhumanly shot spears at Krista out of her eyes. Then she made a show of taking her sweet time, not politely getting out of Krista’s way.
“What have we here?”
Krista spun around, not expecting company from behind since the main attack was head-on.
A guy in his early thirties was standing at the mouth of the break room holding a coffee mug in one hand and a keyboard in the other. He had a brown crew-cut that bespoke the armed forces, and brown eyes. He was fairly average-looking.
He was taking in the scene, much as Krista had done a second before. He had a sneer as he said, “Ah, I see you two found each other. How nice. Drunken night?”
Sean leaned against the wall, sparing another guilty look in Krista’s direction before catching himself and turning to the newcomer with nonchalance. “Jacob, what brings you out of your hole? I thought IT had coffee behind lock and key?”