Finally, though, I scored a date with Kelli—what was her last name again? Elated that Lily and I were no longer dating, Kelli agreed to meet me at the Jubilee dance emporium that evening and while this low rent night club was not on my list of favorite haunts, I supposed that the loud music—paired, of course, with the company of a gorgeous woman—would dull my senses and drown out the memory of another woman; one that at this point seemed unattainable.
Two hours later I sat at a table across from the lovely blonde Kelli; dressed that evening in a sharp black spaghetti strap that showed off her slender body to glorious effect. Leaning forward across the table, I ran my fingers through her luxurious mass of thick golden hair and stared deep into her wide blue eyes; seeking to lose myself in all her beauty.
Strangely, though, I felt not even a twinge of excitement as I laid my eyes on this striking woman; and when she spoke, I found it very difficult to focus on her words.
“I’m glad you called me, thanks for that,” she told me with a grin. “About all I was planning to do tonight was my nails and maybe check out the monster truck rally on cable.”
I stared at her, not sure quite how to respond to this empty, banal sentiment.
Lily would never say anything so—well—dumb. And she’d never thank me for going out with her, I thought silently, adding aloud, “Glad you could make it, Kelli. Would you like a drink?”
Soon Kelli and I occupied our mouths with copious reams of cheese sticks and alcoholic beverages; blissfully stilting any and all attempts at genuine conversation. And when they were gone, I invited her to dance.
The moment we hit the dance floor, Kelli flung herself into my arms and ground her nubile, voluptuous body against mine; searing me with a blatant gaze of narrow eyed seduction as she thrust her chest against mine and gyrated her slim, fit hips in my direction.
Normally I would be turned on by such a blatant advance, especially when performed by such a hot, alluring woman. Somehow, though, I felt repulsed by her display of crude sexuality; I felt myself stiffening against her, and not in a good way.
Lily would never make a spectacle of herself in front of all these people. Kelli stepped away from me to show off what appeared to be her advanced twerking skills. Impressive.
In an impulsive move I swept my date’s body up tight in my arms; not in a fit of passion, but in an attempt to reign her in a bit. Then, settling my head on her shoulder, I allowed my gaze to wander disinterested across the width and breadth of the dance floor.
My body tensed as I immediately recognized someone I knew; a Clark Industries clerk named Kirk Taylor.
“This seems like the type of place that a no account, working class loser like him would frequent,” I sniffed silently. “I kind of wonder, though, what kind of girl he’s scored for a date.”
I jumped in spite of myself, and my blood ran cold, as my question was met with a shocking, downright unbelievable answer.
“Lily…” I breathed aloud, recognizing at once the voluptuous brunette that danced with Kirk. “No, it can’t be—when she could have a rich, successful guy like me, why would she waste her time with a lackey? This just doesn’t make one bit of sense.”
I cringed as my previously flirtatious date froze in my arms; at once pulling away from me to pin me with a cold, condemning stare.
“I said all that out loud,” I told Kelli, biting my lip as I added, “Didn’t I?”
Kelli said nothing, just left my arms and gestured broadly in Lily’s direction.
“Go ahead, Oliver,” she demanded, planting her hands on her hips. “Your mind and heart are already with her—not with me. Your body might as well join them.”
I froze, staring with an open mouth at the woman that—for all intents and purposes—had just put me in my place.
“Why Kelli,” I breathed. “I do believe that’s the smartest thing you’ve ever said. By a long shot.”
Obviously not taking this as a compliment, my angry date turned away from me with a hale and hearty, “Screw you, Oliver Clark!”
Shaking my head at her ire, I dismissed Kelli with a casual wave and turned to face the woman that really mattered; one whose lush, voluptuous body now collided with mine at the center of the dance floor.
The instant that she turned to face me felt more like an eternity. For a timeless moment I stared into her wide, expressive eyes, not knowing quite what to say or do.
“Good evening, Lily,” I muttered finally, breathless as I awaited her reaction.
I cringed seconds later, as—once again—Lily Ashton turned away from me.
~
Chapter Nineteen
~
“Just so you know, Oliver. I can’t always accommodate weekend appointments—especially not first thing Sunday morning.”
Seated behind her desk with her back straight and stiff, Dr. Ann Goldman folded her arms before her as she continued, “So what did you need to talk to me about this morning? That couldn’t possibly wait until Monday morning?”
I sighed, hanging my head as I finally gave voice to an undeniable truth.
“I’m in love with Lily Ashton,” I revealed. “There, I’ve said it. I can’t deny it any longer. I am madly, passionately in love with this woman, and I need desperately to get her back into my life. I’m nothing without Lily, and I don’t want to live one more day of my life without that wonderful, brilliant, beautiful woman.”
Dr. Goldman nodded.
“Well it’s good that you’re finally willing to admit what the rest of us have known, for quite some time,” she told me, adding as she cocked her head in my direction, “The only person that doesn’t know this, as a matter of fact, is Lily. So how do you plan to show her your love?”
I shrugged.
“I don’t know!” I exclaimed, adding as I spread my arms in a desperate gesture, “Just the other day I bought her an expensive and very beautiful gift, which I handpicked at her favorite department store—a gift she rejected and sent back to my office. If she rejects such a grand gesture, then what on earth will she accept?”
Dr. Goldman sighed.
“Oliver, don’t you get it yet? Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve told you all along? Lily Ashton is an intelligent, independent woman. You can’t buy her love. You have to tell her, to show her.”
I nodded.
“OK, so how do I do that?” I pressed her. “I mean, I’ve never had to express myself in words or even actions to a woman. Usually the gifts, the dinners, the trips, just said it all for me.”
Ann nodded.
“That’s probably because, as I said before, Lily is a very special woman. And you in all likelihood feel more for her than you do for all the other woman combined,” she offered, adding as she leaned across the desk and fixed me with an apprising stare, “All you have to do, Oliver, is tell her what you truly feel—how you truly feel. Speak your heart. Then show her your heart—sweep her up in two loving arms and never let her go.”
I thought a moment, then nodded.
“So that’s really your professional advice?” I asked her, smiling slightly. “Is this what they taught you to say in psychology school, when a man asks you for advice on how to pursue a serious relationship with a woman?”
Dr. Goldman shrugged; then out and out shocked me with a girlish grin and an excited, high-pitched giggle.
“That’s my advice as a therapist, and as a woman,” she told me, adding with a sly wink, “Go get her, Oliver.”
~
Chapter Twenty
~
Lily
It was with slow, trudging steps that I made my way into the offices of Clark Industries; greeting Monday morning with a sense of dread that clutched the pit of my stomach.
I didn’t particularly want to see Kirk this morning; our car ride home Saturday evening had been so awkward and stilted—we both seemed relieved as he finally and mercifully dropped me off at my front door.
Yet while I could manage polite smiles and empty conv
ersation for the kind, good-natured office clerk, I honestly didn’t know what I’d say or do if I ran into Oliver and just how, I wondered, would I continue to work at Clark Industries without associating in any way with the boss’ son?
As the harsh light of Monday morning flowed free through my bedroom window, I’d been sorely tempted to call in sick—or maybe even dead! Eventually, though, I pulled myself out of bed, threw on a freshly pressed pant suit and headed into the office.
Trisha needs me. Harry Clark needs me—and even if he didn’t, I can’t allow his son to mess up my career—or, for that matter, my life, I mused, lifting my chin as I trudged up the stairs en route to my office. And really, what are the odds that I’m going to run into Oliver today, or—for that matter—anytime soon?
Since I switched jobs, we’d pretty much managed to avoid each other—working on different floors, eating lunch at different times, and studiously avoiding words and eye contact during that rare company meeting. And especially in light of the events of last weekend, I had the feeling that he’d pretty much be keeping to his side of the building.
My spirits lightened as I considered this fact and while my heart still hurt at the memory of last weekend—indeed, at the memory of the last few months of my life, and the grand romance that now seemed like a lost dream—I realized that I owed it to myself to steel myself against all thoughts of Oliver and go on with my life.
Committed and newly energized by this fresh, empowering concept, I actually smiled as I passed the threshold of Trisha Vance’s office suite; my mind reciting all of the projects and tasks that were likely to consume my day.
This smile dissolved seconds later, as I saw that a particularly conscientious co-worker had preceded me into the office; and it wasn’t Kirk or even Trisha.
My eyes flew wide as they beheld the vision of a gorgeous, muscular man; a bronzed god that came complete with thick, dark hair, wide ebony eyes, bronzed skin and sculpted features, and a tall, muscular frame currently draped decoratively across the surface of my desk.
He was a handsome, smiling dream of a man who could stir the heart of just about any woman.
And never in my life had I ever been more sorely tempted to just haul off and slug another human being, and hard.
In the interest of saving my job and, for that matter, saving myself from imminent criminal prosecution, though I swear to you not a jury in the land would convict me—I opted for plan B; looking Oliver Clark straight in the eyes and saying, “Unless you are here on company business, Mr. Clark, I would highly suggest that you get off of my desk and out of my office.”
Unphased by these rough words, Oliver met them with a short, sharp nod as he folded his arms before him.
“Actually, Ms. Ashton, I am indeed here on company business,” he told me, more than matching my official tone. “If I don’t get to talk to you this morning, I won’t be able to do a lick of work today or, for that matter, to go on living my life.”
I rolled my eyes.
“That’s a lame line, Clark, even for you,” I barked, adding as I waved him away from my desk, “And to be honest, I have a lot of work to do this morning—and I’m sure you do as well. I’m sure that your father would really appreciate it if we both got to work.”
Oliver shook his head.
“Lily, please,” he pleaded, tone low and sincere. “I need to talk to you!”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” I insisted, walking with brisk, purposeful steps in the direction of my corner filing cabinet.
I froze in my steps as I heard a loud, sharp sob erupt from the throat of my onetime lover.Wheeling around with my mouth agape, I marveled at the appearance of a single tear as it creased Oliver’s carved cheek.
“You don’t have to talk to me,” he told me, visibly fighting to retake control of his voice and his emotions. “Just listen to me, Lily. Please.”
Moments later I too sat on the edge of my desk; facing a still emotional Oliver as I said, “You have five minutes, Oliver.”
Oliver shook his head.
“I’m afraid, Lily, that my story might take a little longer to tell,” he told me, adding with a heavy sigh, “It’s the story of my life.”
He took a deep, sustaining breath and shut his eyes tight; seeming to transport himself to another place and time.
Then he opened those same eyes and said, “Lily, as you know, I’ve always gotten what I wanted in life.”
“Until you met me,” I interrupted, folding my arms before me.
Oliver shook his head.
“No, actually, there were two other times in my life when I couldn’t keep the girl,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Back in college, Lily, I dated a very special young woman named Andrea. She was warm, funny, beautiful, smart—everything a sensible man would want in a woman. Oh, but I couldn’t be sensible—after being a good boy and staying faithful to Andrea for six months, I got drunk at a frat party and woke up the next morning with a cheerleader.”
He smiled as I slapped my forehead with the palm of my hand—but only briefly.
“You don’t have to say it, Lil. I was a fool,” he admitted. “And no matter how much I begged and pleaded, she refused to forgive me. Within one year she was married to the captain of the football team; she made me look like a fool.”
I shook my head.
“You made yourself look like a fool,” I reminded him.
Oliver nodded.
“I know that, now,” he assured me, adding as he rolled his eyes heavenward, “Believe me, I know that all too well. At the time, though, I was far more ashamed of myself for giving my heart to a girl—just so she could break it. I hated the way I felt—the depression, the guilt—and I vowed that I never would feel that way again. If you put all of your eggs in one basket, I reasoned, saving your love for just one woman, then you give her way too much power over you. And so set the course for my adulthood.”
I nodded.
“Well, this does explain a lot,” I allowed, adding as I cocked my head in his direction, “You did say, though, that there were two women that broke your heart. Who was the second?”
I cringed in spite of myself as Oliver’s head bowed, and a second tear cascaded the length of his carved, bronzed cheek.
“Ma,” he choked out, clenching his hands before him. “I tell you, Lily, the cancer that killed her just about finished me as well. I vowed that, with all of our money, with all of her connections, surely we could save her—dammit, I would find a way to save her. And when I couldn’t do that—well, let’s just say that the pain I felt during my break up with Andrea was nothing compared to the anger, the hurt, the helplessness and desperation that I felt as I watched my mother die in front of my eyes.”
Now it was my turn to let loose with an unbidden tear; one that fell free down my cheek as I clutched Oliver’s hands in my own.
“As close as I am to my own parents, Oliver, believe me when I say that I dread and have nightmares about the day that I lose them,” I revealed, adding as I shook my head from side to side, “I can’t even imagine the pain that you felt—that you still feel. Especially when your mother was struck down so young—in the prime of her life.”
Oliver nodded.
“Suddenly the one pure and true love of my life was gone,” he agreed, clutching my fingers between his as he added, “Along with my only true guidance and moral compass in life—aside from my dad, of course. But Mom’s influence over me was so much stronger and more keenly felt. Sure, I could drown out all of Dad’s lectures and his loud voice—but if I made my mother cry, which happened on occasion, it tore at my heart.”
I said nothing for a moment, just pinned a sad eyed Oliver with a long, intense look.
“And how do you think your mother would feel if she knew about your lifestyle now?” I asked softly, arching my eyebrows to curious effect.
“I never wanted to ponder the answer to that question,” he answered immediately, adding with a shrug, “So I just started limitin
g my thoughts and feelings in general. In an effort to fill the big hole in my heart, I just gave myself over to pleasure. I tried to drink, party and sex the pain away—making sure to make no binding emotional attachments in the process.”
I nodded.
“Sounds like a plan, Oliver—maybe not a very good plan, but a plan nonetheless,” I told him. “So now I’m simply left with a single, but very important question: Do you ever plan to change?”
I took in my breath as Oliver pulled me forward, answering me with a soft, gentle kiss; one delivered squarely on my lips as he whispered, “I’ve already changed, Lily. You’ve changed me. You reminded me of what it’s like to feel—to feel love, caring and attachment to another human being—and also pain and loss. During the time I’ve spent with you, Lily, I’ve felt more alive than I have in such a long time. And to tell you the truth, that scared the hell out of me.”