Claiming Cleo (Masters Club 2)
Page 11
Cleo harrumphed. “A chance to do what? Break my heart again? No, thank you.” Angrily, she speared a plump blueberry that had escaped the pancake batter, and brought it to her lips.
“You know what you need?” Jess asked with an exasperated but affectionate laugh. “A good, hard spanking.”
“Always,” Cleo agreed with an answering grin, her tension lifting a little. She shook her head. “You’re right. I just need to take a deep breath and let things go how they go.”
She put her napkin on the table and pushed back her chair.
“Do you have time to check out that cool new fetish wear boutique that just opened on Bleeker Street?”
~*~
The next morning, Hayden joined Jack for breakfast at the restaurant of the hotel where Jack was staying. While waiting for their food, they made the usual small talk about sports, the economy and their work lives. It was good to catch up with his old friend, but Jack was having a hard time concentrating.
“What the heck is that? You got OCD or something?” Hayden asked, lifting his chin toward Jack, one eyebrow cocked.
“Huh?”
Following Hayden’s gaze, Jack looked down at the table and gave a small, embarrassed laugh. Without realizing it, he’d torn his napkin into tiny pieces.
“God, I’m such a mess.” Jack chuckled, shaking his head as he pushed the scraps of napkin into a small pile. “I promised myself I wouldn’t go whining to my friends about my love life, or rather, my lack thereof.”
“Whine away,” Hayden said with a grin. “That’s what friends are for, no? What’s eating you?”
“Okay. I’ll just lay it out there. It’s Cleo. I can’t stop thinking about last night. Things kind of got derailed. I’m still trying to get a handle on it.”
“Derailed? What’re you talking about? I thought the second scene was even hotter than the first. No?”
“Oh, it totally was. Right up to the end. But then she just sort of…vanished. I mean, it was like the scene was over and that was that. She closed in on herself. I don’t know how else to describe it. While she was perfectly respectful and appropriate, she pretty much dismissed me. Like she was saying, ‘Scene over. Next.’”
Hayden chuckled. “We’ve been over this, buddy. You just need to give her some time. When you think about it, on the surface this scenario isn’t all that different from what happened at the London club when you finally came back after Annette’s passing. Maybe the only thing that has changed is your perspective. When you came back, you would scene with Cleo, thank her for the fun and move on to the next girl. Do I have that wrong?”
“No,” Jack said miserably. “You have it right. I guess I’m getting what I deserve now.”
“Nah, don’t look at it that way,” Hayden said, waving a dismissive hand. “You’re the Dom, remember? So, prove it. Whatever is or isn’t happening with Cleo, it’s up to you to take back the reins.”
“You’re right,” Jack replied. “I know you’re right.” He managed a chuckle as he added, “I guess I should have expected a lukewarm reception. I mean, she ignored that damn letter I sent her. You should have seen the first dozen drafts,” he added with a wry smile. “A bunch of pathetic, teenage angst scrawled across the page.”
“Kind of like what you’re doing now?” Hayden teased good-naturedly, grinning all the while.
Jack barked a laugh. “Yeah, I guess. Just shoot me if it’s getting too maudlin.”
“Nah,” Hayden said. “I’m just busting your balls, bro. Keeping it light to balance the heavy stuff you’re telling me.” His teasing smile fell away. “Seriously, my heart goes out to you. Grief and its aftermath can really do a number on you. I think it’s great you’re reaching out again—ready to reclaim yourself. So, what did you end up sending?”
“By the time I stripped out all the begging and pleading, it was little more than a, ‘Hey, how’s it going. I think about you. I wish you were here.’”
“That’s a good thing,” Hayden retorted. “Women hate sappy guys who wear their hearts on their sleeve. Better to keep ’em guessing.”
“Maybe,” Jack replied dubiously. “Odds are, she skimmed it and tossed it into the rubbish bin.”
Hayden laughed. “Listen to you, going all British on me with your rubbish bins. When’re you coming back to the States for good? Doesn’t your firm have offices in Manhattan?”
Jack was silent as he considered this. He’d gone to the London office for a one-time project years ago. He’d ended up falling in love with a local girl, and making a permanent transfer. But now that girl was gone, and he was still overseas.
“I don’t know,” he said as he pondered the possibility. “If there was a compelling reason, I suppose I could put in for another transfer.” He darkened, adding, “But maybe that ship has sailed with Cleo. Maybe I just need to accept that and move on.”