MY DRESS IS a lot for a simple coffee meeting.
And maybe my hair is fluffed to within an inch of its life.
I wipe off red lipstick with a napkin. Coat my brown lips in clear gloss instead. It softens the look and makes it less try-hard. I’m satisfied with the woman I see.
The wind rushes through my hair as I speed to the diner. I’m late. Took too long deciding on what to wear. Pulling clothes from the closet. Tearing them off the hangers. Holding them up only to throw them back down again.
Nerves dragged a trampoline in my stomach and invited butterflies. I haven’t been this nervous about a simple meeting in… years. Not since Jerrison and I first started dating.
After I find parking, I flutter around with my purse. Drag the sun visor down and fuss with the spaghetti strap of my dress. I tug my tube of lip gloss from the purse. Dab it on my bottom lip. Smear it around.
There.
Pretty.
I’m elegant. In control.
The diner goes quiet when I walk in. My palms are sweaty.
Doubts fly straight at me like a pack of bats.
Did I overdress? I look ridiculous. It’s too much.
I’m about to turn and run when I hear Jerrison’s voice. “Harriet.”
It’s a hand reaching out to a drowning woman. It’s the eye of the hurricane. The calm in the storm. I know that voice like I know my own
name. And since that voice has found me already, I figure I should follow it.
Turning around, I lift my chin. “Hi.” Jerrison gestures to the booth.
My heels clack as I walk there. The purse I chose-a darling white clutch-pokes into my side. I hold it steady with my elbow. Let my finger roam up and down the strap.
He smiles and the sun breaks free from the clouds. Wrinkles deepen around blue eyes that manage to startle me even though we’ve been married for a long time.
“Hey.” One side of his lips is higher than the other. He looks like bad news and a good time. He looks like every dream I’ve had since I left.
“I ordered for you.” His voice is heavy. As heavy as the eyes that dip down my shoulders, my chest, my arms. The admiration is acceptable. Reassuring. I didn’t put so much care into my appearance to be ignored.
“We’ll see if that was a mistake.” The flirtatious tone eases out of me. I don’t mean for it.
I’m angry. I am.
He betrayed me.
I remember.
But he’s wearing a pressed blazer over a blue shirt. The kind of blue that brings out the color in his eyes. He’s brushed his thick hair into a careless style. Masculine and sexy. The shirt sleeves have been rolled back to reveal hairy forearms. Hands with obvious veins. I’ve always loved Jerrison’s hands.
“Excuse me.” A voice stops us from staring at each other.
A young waitress slides the food across the table. It’s a cheeseburger and fries. Simple but delicious.
Jerrison leans forward and asks in a husky voice, “Did I do well?”
“You played it safe.” I gesture to the food. “You can’t go wrong with a cheeseburger.”
He laughs. “Next time I’ll be more daring.”
Next time? Should I play around with this fire and see him again? Is it okay to feel this light, bubbly feeling in my stomach when we still have so many broken things?
Doc said to go back to dating. I’m not supposed to rush this part. The feelings. The attraction. But it’s difficult to ignore the connection. Intimacy
and all that precedes it has never been our problem.
We both take a sip of water at the same time. Our movements are in sync. Our eyes meet like old friends.
He smiles.
I can’t help the way I smile back. But I need to end that grin quickly.
I fold my arms over my chest. Lean back. Look away. Try to stop this train from running off the rails.
“I’m going to keep this short because we’re both busy.” Hands on the top of my purse. Squeeze. Eyes on the table. “I’m trying to arrange celebrity appearances at McClane franchises all around the city.”
Jerrison chuckles. Grabs one of the crispy fries sprinkled in salt on his plate. “Harriet, slow down.” Eyes twinkling, he smirks. “How have you been? Anything…” The fry drops into a dollop of ketchup, “interesting happen lately? Take any trips or…” He leans forward, his broad shoulders hunching. “Let’s catch up.”
I steel myself against that seductive gaze. It’s difficult to resist. I’m not the type of woman who’d go around calling a man ‘dreamy’, but my husband definitely fits the bill. He’s aged like fine wine. The kind that goes down warm and smooth.
I shake my head. Do not fall for it, Harriet.
Doc told me to treat him like a stranger and test him to make sure he’s really changed. It’s easier to do that when Jerrison’s out of sight, but the challenge is right now when the smiles I want to give him press against my lips and beg for release.
Schooling my expression, I pretend I’m dealing with a creepy stranger and let my voice drop harshly. “I’d rather we didn’t discuss our personal lives.”
Jerrison startles. He expected me to fall for it. Him. The smolder. He expected the old Harriet.
But she’s gone.
Or, at least, I’m locking her away until I can trust her to come out.
I watch him process my cold response. The exaggerated blinking. The lips tightening. The wrinkles around his eyes deepening. I’m a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. A new sensation that isn’t pleasant but isn’t altogether unwelcome either.
I don’t give him time to figure out a response. My fingers pluck at the clasp of my purse. The file I prepared is nestled safely inside. I haul it out. Slide it over.
“This is the proposal.” My confidence slowly returns. I might have had a terrible marriage, but I am a boss at work. The skin I slip into feels familiar. Feels powerful. “I’m not asking you to make any of the deals for me. I just need to get into the room.”
Jerrison doesn’t touch the file on the table. He leans back. Folds his arms over his chest. Picks me apart with eyes that have gone cold.
I straighten my back and meet his gaze, refusing to back down.
A sigh builds deep in his chest. I don’t hear it, but I don’t have to. It’s easy to read someone when you spend enough mornings waking up to them. “Is that really all you want, Harriet?” Jerrison’s question hints at
something deeper.
I don’t bother picking up the thread and following it to the depths. Instead, I keep my feet on solid ground. “If you don’t help me, I’ll find someone else who will.”
My tone carries way more confidence than I feel. Jerrison’s the one with all the connections. If he blackballs me, tells all his associates not to work with me, I’m doomed.
He pins his lips together.
The silence that stretches out between us is full of tension.
Finally, he picks up the folder and flips through the contract. “You won’t get anywhere with this.”
It stings. I’m not going to lie. The last thing I want is to be called out by my husband of all people.
“Mm-mm.” Jerrison shakes his head as he skims the files. “You’re going to waste your time. And theirs.” He slaps the file closed. Leaves one big hand on top of it. “The only way you’re going to make this work is if I go to those meetings with you.”
“I’m not asking you to-”
“You want this to work or not?” He arches an eyebrow. I’m a butterfly pinned to a spider’s web.
The more I squirm, the worse it’ll get. “What do you want in return?”
“Who says-”
“Don’t insult me, Jerrison.” I lean forward. “What do you want?”
His eyes drop to my lips.
Heat skitters up my spine without my permission and I wonder if he’s going to reach out and kiss me. I wonder if I would push him away or if I would kiss him back.
Thankfully, he doesn’t put me in that position. “I’m having a bit of trouble with one of my rookies.”
“Which one?”
“Fuentes.” He straightens his tie and looks mildly uncomfortable. “He has an… opinion of me that I need to rectify.”
I narrow my eyes. “He caught you with someone else, didn’t he?” “Not the point.” Jerrison waves my concern away.
Relief singes my veins. I’m glad I didn’t get caught up in the moment. If he’s still so cavalier about his cheating, that means Doc has yet to get through to him.
“Fuentes trains at the gym where we met the other day. I’d like to meet you there every morning. Have a conversation. Maybe put on a little act as if everything between us is good-”
I yank the file back. “No.”
“Harriet,” his voice falters, “It’s just a conversation. Ten minutes. No, five.”
Jerrison is begging. That means he’s desperate too.
“We can help each other, hm?” He succeeds in tugging the file back from me.
I consider his proposal. “You want us to pretend we’re married?” “We are married.” His lips twitch.
“You know what I mean,” I grumble. “You want us to pretend for Fuentes.”
“And in exchange, I’ll get you every celebrity I possibly can.” I consider the plan. Analyze it from all angles.
We’re not dating.
We’re not even living in the same house.
Besides, it’s just for business and I do need Jerrison to get this program off the ground.
I stick my hand out. “Deal.”
“Deal.” His hand slides through mine and electricity sizzles over my arm.
I yank my hand back.
Okay.
That was dangerous.
And the way my pulse just sped up is a warning. I’m not immune to my husband.
From now on, I have to be careful with my heart. If I get too close too soon, Jerrison will burn me up without a second thought.