Saltwater Kisses (The Kisses 1)

“Did you get my picture of that dog today?” I asked, taking a bite of the salmon, but my thoughts entirely on how nice it felt to touch him.

“I nearly spit my coffee across the board of directors,” he said with a laugh. “Best part of my day, other than right now.”

I grinned and took another bite. Since the camera on my new phone surpassed the abilities of my actual camera by a great deal, I was having a blast taking pictures of things I found in the city. Dean and Rachel kept me busy during the day, sending me to various well supervised events throughout the area. If something appealed to me, I would take a picture and send it to Jack. At first I thought it might be too silly for a busy man, but he always asked for more. He seemed to live vicariously through the pictures I took throughout the day.

“The woman said it designed by a groomer in Queens who does only specialty cuts.”

“If we ever get a dog, can we please never die it blue and give it a lion’s mane? Please?” He laughed. My breath caught in my throat for a moment at the implied future. I was about to tease him about possibly going with a tiger striped look instead, but a knock on the door interrupted me.

His secretary poked her head inside, a crisp gray bun at the nape of her neck. “I’m very sorry Mr. Saunders, but Mr. Ryans is calling from Saudia Arabia. He says it is urgent,” she said. Jack sighed and set down his meal. There wasn’t much left, as he had wolfed it down. My own plate had only been nibbled on.

“Thank you, Jeannette. Tell Owen I’ll talk to him in a moment,” he said with a sigh. Jeanette nodded and gave me an apologetic smile before closing the door. “I’m sorry to do this to you... again.”

“You are very busy. I don’t know how you juggle all of the transition details as well as the day to day stuff. I’m just glad I get to see you at all.”

“You are too sweet. I have stolen you away from your life and friends, and all I can give you is an hour a day, and not even a guaranteed hour!” He shook his head. I could see guilt weighing down on his broad shoulders.

“Hey, I’m having a great time. Rachel and Dean have been keeping me busy. I saw the Statue of Liberty today. I never thought I was going to see it, let alone have a special tour. I’m finding a routine, and we’ll make this work. Rachel is even coming up with a way for me to help you get through all this,” I said, motioning to the crazy stacks of papers threatening to overwhelm his desk.

“What is she having you do?” Jack’s brows came together as he stood and moved towards the blinking light on his desk.

“I’m not sure yet. I told her I was going to go stir crazy if I didn’t have something productive to do. I’ve been here almost two weeks and I don’t want to be a burden. I want to help,” I explained as I began to put the dishes back on the tray.

Jack beamed at me. “You are the exact opposite of a burden. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have these evenings to look forward to.” The little light flashed faster and he glared at it.

“Will you be coming home tonight or sleeping here again?” I asked as I headed towards the door. I realized he was a busy man, especially right now, and that he often found it easier to spend the night at his office. If he did come back to the apartment, he always came to see me. Two nights before, he even slept in my room. We had intended for more, but he fell asleep as soon as he hit the pillow and I enjoyed watching him sleep. It wasn’t much, but I treasured any time I got to spend with him.

“I don’t know yet. Depends on how long this takes.” He jerked his head towards the angry flashing light. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Come wake me up if you do make it back. I have more pictures of that dog to show you.”

I pushed the trolley to the door and left, hearing him pick up the phone and switch on the commanding voice he never used with me. I waved goodbye to Jeannette as I headed towards the gold elevators leading back to the main entrance. The older woman waved back as she spoke into her headset. I was quickly becoming accustomed to the silent waves and the smiles over business phone conversations.

Once in the elevator, I hit the button and leaned on the ornate sides. I was having a wonderful time in New York, but some days, I barely understood what I was doing here. These dinner visits were the highlight of my day. I knew Jack and I had a connection, but I wasn’t sure if we could ever actually make this work. There wasn’t anything for me to do, except spend Jack’s money and bother Rachel, and neither of those things were in my nature. I needed something to do.

***

I lay in bed, comfy in my worn PJs, debating opening the newest copy of The Press laying on my nightstand. I was emblazoned on the cover, thankfully wearing one of the beautiful outfits Rachel deemed suitable, walking around the city. It had been on one of my recent shopping excursions with Rachel. She wielded a cr

edit card like a magic wand and enjoyed finding things for me to wear. If nothing else, our excursions gave me something to do, and I was forming a friendship with Rachel. I had stopped looking at price tags after the first store rang up my three pairs of pants at more than a month’s pay with overtime. Rachel never batted an eyelash at the numbers, letting the purchases pile up in the chauffeured car.

I flipped open the cover, landing on the article about me. Rachel had placed a large sticky note over the first paragraph with the words, “are you sure you want to read this?” I smiled and lifted it off the page. I liked Rachel. She had a subtle sense of humor that caught me off guard. She was fiercely protective of Jack, and the love and respect she had for him only made me like her more. She had grown up in a smaller town than mine, and we spent much of our shopping excursions swapping stories about home. She was quickly becoming the older sister I never had, and I was more than grateful to have her with me in this strange place.

Emma LaRue—the mysterious woman who has stolen the heart of a billionaire! See what her friends and family have to say! exclaimed the headline. The “friends and family” were people I barely knew. My real friends and family had signed confidentiality agreements and weren’t speaking to the press without approval. Emma’s best friend from elementary school, Hannah Smithson, remembers her being a shy and studious girl. “I always got along really well with Emma. She was easy to talk to.” Hannah? I hadn’t spoken to her since third grade and we were convinced there was a unicorn in the woods behind the school. I shook my head at the lengths the tabloids were going to in order to get a story.

The magazine had a few more pictures, obviously snapped from sidewalks as I hurried out of the winter air into stores. I wondered how cold those photographers had gotten waiting for me to emerge from a store. Spring was on its way, but winter still had an icy grip on the city’s weather. The last page of the article had a short note at the bottom: Do you have any information on Emma LaRue? The Press would love to hear your stories! Call to inquire about our payments for photos! Jack’s father’s policy of do nothing and keep everyone quiet was working so far, but the entire tone of the article made it clear that readers were clamoring for more. It was a strange feeling.

I set the magazine back on the nightstand and checked my phone. I loved my new phone. I had spent the better part of a day setting it all up and playing with all the games and features, and I still found new and fun things to do with it. I had one unread message from Jack.

I grinned and opened it like it was a present.

Not going to make it home tonight.

Not quite the present I was hoping for. I could feel the pout on my face as the question rose in my mind again. What was I doing here? While I loved my dinners with Jack, my days were full of boredom. Rachel promised to find me a job at the company so that I could at least feel useful, but even then, working for Jack wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. I missed my job at the Vet Clinic, missed working with animals and the people that came with them. For the millionth time that week, I wondered what was going to happen once all the publicity of our pseudo-marriage was finally sorted. I knew Jack had lawyers looking into the validity of the marriage, but we both knew it wouldn’t stand up in a court of law. We had never intended it to.

My phone chirped. I’m going to make it up to you though.

How?