A Life More Complete(37)
Crying in Ben’s office has made me late. What a wonderful first impression to Trini’s lawyer, not that I care what he thinks of me personally, but I do care about my professionalism.
I’m daydreaming of Ben as I make my way to the conference room. Ben’s perfectly white, straight teeth, his beautiful smile, his hands, his dark hair, his eyes, him naked. I’m smiling like an idiot. I need to get it together. Then I hear it. A voice I know better than my own and it stops me dead in my tracks. It can’t be. It just can’t. How? I hear it again. He laughs and I know it’s him. My mind races and I play the conversation from yesterday’s meeting in my head. Flight from Chicago, Mr. McCarthy, lawyer. Fuck me! It’s him.
My palms begin to sweat and I tap and count to such an extreme it’s comical. I take a deep breath, turn around and hit the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror. My mind is racing, my heart beating like a drum; I can’t seem to pull it together. Get yourself together. You’re not the same person you were then. Stop being a coward. This is your job. You could do it in your sleep. I take another deep breath and I tell my feet to walk. I hear him laugh again. He’s charming everyone in the room. I know; I’ve been there. He is flawlessly good.
As I walk in Ellie says, “There she is.” She has a ridiculously huge grin painted on her face. “Kristin, this is Tyler McCarthy, Trini’s lawyer.” She is still smiling like a moron. He stands and turns toward me as I stop in the doorway. If he’s shocked to see me he doesn’t show it. I attempt to walk around him, which of course, comes across as awkward and weird. He stills me with his hand, placing it on my wrist and runs his thumb along the inside seeking what he knows is still there.
“It’s nice to see you, again. You look well,” he says not missing a beat, completely collected.
“You, too,” I say, which is more like an auto-response, but my voice is shaky. It’s just what you say, I think? He pulls me into an embrace and I still myself by placing my hands on his arms just below his shoulders. His lips graze my ear and he whispers, “You smell amazing.” And then he places a kiss just shy of my mouth. I swallow hard. It’s impossible for me to control my body’s response to him. My heart beats faster, my palms sweat, my breathing grows erratic. I become powerless in his presence. He’s the only person in the world who evokes so much emotion from me. I’m overwhelmed, and anxiety-riddled, a complete mess. It’s like my body is hardwired to his, so attuned and acutely aware. I begin to tap my fingers and his hand covers mine stilling my need. He leans in again and kisses the other side of my mouth and whispers, “Stop. So unbecoming on such a beautiful woman.” My breath hitches and a small gasp escapes my lips. He is completely unaffected by my presence or everyone else in the room because it feels like we’ve been standing like this for an eternity. The tension in the room is unnatural. The Earth tilts on its axis and begins to spin. I can feel it under my feet. I feel like I’m under water trying to suck in a breath, but there’s nothing there. The room begins to buzz with anticipation, his eyes lock with mine, and it’s uncomfortable and unnerving. He drops my hand abruptly and says, “Shall we start the meeting,” as if he just returned from the bathroom. As much as I want to go he still leaves me feeling bereft. I stumble toward the chair next to Melinda and fall into it rather ungracefully. I look over at her and her eyes are wide and questioning and she mouths, “Oh. My. God.”
---Chapter 11---
Like I said, I could do this job in my sleep, which is what I do. Sleep replaced by a trance of disbelief and total numbness. I speak at the right times, say the right things, fill in the information as need be, but not remembering any of it when the meeting comes to a close. I wish I loved my job the way some people do. I wish I was so involved with something, loved it so much that I could dedicate my time and not have it be a chore. I admire people like that, yet I also loathe them all at the same time. To be that dedicated to anything seems borderline crazy. Melinda grabs my wrist stealing me from my daydream.
“An explanation?” she whispers all the while looking eager. Her leg moving under the table in a quick steady beat as she looks at Tyler while he furiously types on his BlackBerry. His brow is furrowed and he looks deep in thought. He still looks amazing, somewhat more masculine, less like a boy. His features more chiseled and defined, yet his nose shows signs of being broken that weren’t there when I last saw him nearly seven years ago. I suddenly feel obsessed with him, like I can’t get enough. Tyler’s good looks and adorably charming smile are what drew me to him so long ago. Nothing has changed. I can still picture him in his worn out Gap jeans with the permanent ink stain on the back pocket. His backward baseball hat all tattered and torn perfectly, the brim expertly curved. I remember Tom telling me to stay away from boys in backward hats. He claimed that wearing your hat that way made you lose I.Q. points. It only made me want Tyler more. I’m still staring at him when he pulls himself away from his phone. He looks up at me and smiles coyly. I feel my whole body shudder and I look away quickly. When I finally turn toward Melinda she is dumbstruck.