The One I Want

Half the bar’s eyes are on him. Understandable. But after he staked claim to me when it came to Taylor earlier, I’ve been motivated a few times to stake claims of my own.

That would be wrong.

So wrong.

I’d lose this job, a job I wasn’t even sure I wanted to keep a week ago. Here I am, trying to figure out which department I want to join when Melissa returns.

It was one mental reference to Taylor, nothing even spoken out loud. And there he is, coming toward me with a shit-eating grin and a beer in hand. “Thought you were passing?”

Not that I feel the need to justify my change of mind to him, but I say it anyway, hoping it satisfies his curiosity, “I got talked into it.”

“That’s cool. I’m heading over to talk with the boss man. Want to come?”

Now, this is the kind of offer I can get on board with. Leaving space between us gives others the opportunity to join in as well. Drew is in full-on CEO Andrew mode right now, so I flip that switch in my mind and try to keep my thoughts in line.

It’s just so hard when I can still feel the warmth of his breath on the back of my neck, the heat of his hand imprinted on my hip, and those eyes that intimidate any guy who dares to look my way. Yeah, I’ve noticed. How is it possible that he’s even hotter when he’s protective of me? Damn him.

I don’t think I cared how long it had been since I was with a man until I met him. Owning toys might get the job done, but there’s no passion when it comes to anything requiring batteries and an instruction manual. I miss the emotion, someone telling me I’m beautiful, falling asleep in someone’s arms, and sitting beside them on a lazy Sunday, even if they told me I had overstayed my welcome.

Dating in New York is tough. Most men want a girlfriend but not a wife, a whore in bed but not a significant other come morning. I’ve had one-night stands and don’t judge others for trying to fulfill their own emptiness. I miss the other stuff, the life that comes after when you connect on a deeper level—good morning kisses, coffee, and a scone in bed together, or losing a day lost in each other.

It’s not just what I miss. It’s what I want.

Gil was right. I’m ready. I’ve just been my own worst enemy.

Julie makes talking to the head honcho look so easy. Her light laughter and expressive arms as she talks with Andrew about the recent wild ride of the market. I attempt to join in as a group of stockbrokers talk shop with him but somehow get cut out of the conversation.

I take a sip of my water and look around. Making eye contact with Nick, I’m reminded I want to thank him. When he waves me over, I’m about to work my way around the table but stop and turn back when I hear my name being called in that deep tone that makes my tummy tighten.

Andrew says, “Do you want to join us?”

I know he wants me here, but the collective expressions of the others tell me to stay back.“Thank you, but I was just going to visit with someone over there.” I point indirectly to an area that could really signify half the bar, but he’s not dumb. He knows an excuse when he hears one.

The group returns to slobbering at his feet, and I head in Nick’s direction. Nick has his arm around his wife but lowers it to her waist when I approach. “Juni, I want you to meet my wife, Natalie. Natalie, this is who I was telling you about. Juni Jacobs.”

Natalie practically gasps, her lips parting in the same shared excitement Nick has. Reaching forward, she holds my forearm. “I’ve heard so much about you. Also, you have an incredibly great name.” Leaning back against her husband. They make a beautiful couple, but it’s the love that you can see shared between them when they’re together that is most notable.

My heart squeezes, letting me know it’s there.

“Thank you, but you’re making me curious what was said.”

They laugh, but I’m still not in on the joke. Making our circle smaller, she says, “Nick has told me you’ve been quite the asset to CWM, but before that, you helped Andrew out on one of Cookie’s missions.”

“What’s a cookie mission?”

Nick gets pulled away, but Natalie stays to chat as if we’re allies, ready to give me the insider’s scoop. “Cookie Christiansen is Nick and Andrew’s mother.”

“I’ve heard about her, but I’m not sure I knew her name was Cookie. That’s unique.”

“It is, like her.” She takes a sip through the straw of what looks like a vodka soda with lime, and then adds, “You’ll love her. She’s amazing.”