STICKING IT TO THE MAN
Juliet sat in her window seat in her kitchen in a pair of leggings and oversized socks, blowing smoke out of the crack of it from the cigarette that trembled between her fingers. Juliet didn't smoke--not on a regular basis. But she kept a pack of menthols tucked away in an empty coffee can for desperate situations--and she was currently on her second one.
She was humiliated. And furious. Her night had been completely ruined by the panic attack that had sent her to the restroom at the benefit. A panic attack that she couldn't seem to recover from. A panic attack that had Beth practically begging her to tell her what the problem was. But Juliet couldn't speak. And she wouldn't. Because if she vocalized it, it would become real, and it was bad enough that she didn't want it at all.
It was him. It was the ghost. The blue eyes that invaded her dreams, the blue eyes that her imagination surrendered to as she slept. The blue eyes that whispered sweet nothings to her and made promises to her and opened their arms to her, warm and safe. Juliet couldn't control her dreams.
But she sure as hell could control her real life.
He was poison. He, with his blonde hair the color of silk sand, with his eyes that glittered blue as the bluest of oceans, and a smile that lit up like the sun. He, who was paradise on legs, who was warm and enticing upon sight.
The devil always showed up with his poison in the most tempting of forms.
Juliet was angry with herself. Ashamed for letting him get to her, and for so long. She didn't like the way she couldn't control her emotions. She didn't like the way it felt to have not chosen to be attracted to him. Juliet saw men as nothing more than objects. Prey. She chose the ones she wanted to interact with on her own terms. No man commanded any part of her life, not in the board room, the bedroom, anywhere. This was Juliet's life and she was going to live it the way she saw fit.
She was not going to allow a pretty face to change that. Not for anything.
When Beth finally convinced her to come out of the restroom at the benefit, he was nowhere to be found and she didn't see him for the rest of the night. His absence didn't make her any less apprehensive, however, and as much as she tried to pretend that his presence had only been her imagination, she knew that he was, unfortunately, very real.
Too real.
But now she was safe. She was safe, locked away in her home, surrounded by all of her things, all of the possessions she'd earned on her own. Nobody could take her home and her things away from her. No male paradise could ever come there and stake his claim, he couldn't control her life, he couldn't taint her home and make her safe haven unsafe. This was her home. All hers. All of it. Nobody else's.
She was tempted to light a third cigarette when the thought made her stomach churn a little bit and she decided against it. Abandoning her smoking perch, she became suddenly aware of how quiet her condo was. Most times she relished in the silence, but tonight it was deafening.
A short time later, after a quiet, solitary nightly routine of brushing her teeth and removing her makeup, Juliet climbed in her large bed, alone, as always, and settled in for the night. She loved her bed and she was proud of it. Proud because no man had ever known it. No man had ever left behind his scent or disrespected her sheets. No man ever would.
Unfortunately, though, being in bed alone caused her mind to wander a little bit and this night was no different. Her mind drifted to Beth and Manuel and their similar words. They were only concerned about her and she understood that. But why did being single automatically make one assume you were lonely? That wasn't always the case, not all the time.
Except that sometimes...it was.
It was human nature to miss things and feel lonely sometimes. Perfectly natural. But was it natural for Juliet to look at the empty bed beside her after an especially vivid dream and wonder how her life would be different if he were there? Was it possible to miss something that didn't exist?
Staring up at the ceiling for a moment before turning off her lamp, she brought herself safely back to reality. It was easy to miss a dream because in a dream it was okay to feel things because dreams weren't real. But the reality was, men weren't like her dreams. Not even the flesh carbon copy of her fantasy. The truth was, men were all the same--all of them selfish, commanding, disgusting pigs who were only useful for their one appendage and nothing more. Yes. They were all that way. Even Paradise On Legs.
Especially Paradise On Legs.
As she turned off the light and rolled over, making herself comfortable in the dark, she hated admitting to herself the truth--the real truth. That she longed to see Paradise On Legs again.
*************
"How much of an ass did I make of myself last night?" Juliet asked Beth as they sat together on Juliet's antique sofa, gripping cups of coffee and flipping through masses of interior design magazines.
Beth had come over first thing in the morning, armed with bagels and demanded that Juliet start the coffeemaker. Juliet happily obliged, badly needing this Sunday morning ritual that the two best friends had shared since they had first shared an apartment so many years ago. They sat in pajama pants with the television volume on low on the Style network and they pored over their magazines.
"It wasn't pretty," Beth admitted. "I was able to save enough face to tell everyone you'd eaten something that didn't agree with you--"
"Ew," Juliet crinkled in disgust. "You told them I had stomach issues?"
Beth's eyes darted into Juliet's in thought for a moment. "Well...maybe in hindsight that wasn't the most attractive excuse..."
Juliet sighed in defeat. "Oh, well. Anything is better than telling them I had some random, weirdo freak out..."
"Jules--have you ever looked into...I don't know anxiety or anything? I mean, I know you're perfectly healthy, but this isn't the first time this has happened. I'll never forget that night at the restaurant over the summer...oh, that reminds me! Right before you ran off last night--"
"Can we change the subject?" Juliet interrupted, knowing exactly where this was going next. She couldn't. She couldn't talk about him. She didn't want Beth putting two and two together. She didn't want Beth to realize the impact that he had had on her. It was wrong and it was shameful and if Beth caught wind, Juliet would never hear the end of it.
Thankfully, Beth plastered a grin across her face. "Absolutely. Let's talk about the party that I--you--are hosting next weekend."
"Oh god," Juliet groaned. "That."
"I don't know why you're so against it," she replied, flipping through a magazine and sipping on her coffee. "It's not like I'm asking you to...you know...catch some kind of grotesque disease or something."
"In essence, you are," Juliet muttered. "I don't understand the point. I don't understand how it will benefit me. All it will do will...it'll...Beth, random strangers will be in my home. Sitting on my furniture. Walking around and looking at my stuff, spilling their drinks, breaking my antiques--"
"You act like it's some kind of frat party or something. It's not like that. It's just...you know, like a get-together. Drinks, heavy hors d'oeuvres--"
"Heavy hors d'oeuvres? You're expecting me to cook, too?" Juliet squeaked.
"No! Hell, no. I hired a caterer, you think I'm crazy?"
"What does that mean? I can cook..."
"I know," Beth said, her expression softening. "I know you hate this. I know how you feel about opening your home. But I really think it'll make a statement, Jules. A good one. I think you need some positive light shined on you--"
"Because last night wasn't enough positive light?"
"You don't do that for publicity. You and I both know that."
Juliet let out a breath and flipped a page in her magazine. Beth was right. Damn it, she was always right. Always the voice of reason. Always looking out for her. Suddenly she remembered something and she looked up at her. "Chris is a prick."
Beth's eyes shot up at Juliet's, wide and full of surprise. "Excuse me?"
"You know I love you--you're the only person on this earth that I do love--and you know I'm straight with you. Chris is a prick. Do you really think he travels for work as much as he does?"
Beth blinked at her. Juliet only momentarily felt bad for her bluntness, but the regret didn't last long. Beth sputtered for a moment before she managed to get out, "Um, well, yeah, of course he does, he's in high demand--"
"His dick is in high demand. Admit it. You don't have to tell me, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure him out, Beth. Seriously. When were you going to tell me?"
"Where did--where did this even come from?"
"I'm tired of men pushing us around, Beth," Juliet said, sipping on her coffee, knowing deep down that she was referring to the involuntary way that Blue Eyes made her feel. "We don't deserve that. We're better than that."
"We're not--you're not--nobody's being pushed around..."
"You know he's fucking around. Don't fall into that trap. Get out while you're ahead. I know you like him and you care about him and all that fun stuff but, honey, trust me. He is not the only specialist in the area that treats the kinds of diseases he treats. And you know it. Why do you keep him around?"
Beth's eyes darted around for a moment before she relented and her face fell in shame. "I don't know. I've...I've suspected for awhile..."
"Have you confronted him?"
"I don't want it to be real," she whispered.
Juliet sighed a sympathetic sigh and sat back on the sofa, wrapping her arm around her friend's shoulder and pulling her close to her. "I'm not saying to dump him just because I say so," Juliet said gently. "But you're a good person--sometimes I think you're too good a person. And you don't deserve to be treated that way."
"I wish I was as strong as you," Beth said. "I wish I had things figured out the way you do."
Juliet had to laugh, but she didn't mean to do it as loudly as she did. Maybe she was a better actress than she thought she was, because she sure didn't feel like she had anything figured out. And as for being strong? She felt like she was growing weaker and weaker by the second.
"You are strong," Juliet assured her. "You wouldn't believe how much stronger you are than me. And I mean it, I'm not blowing smoke just to make you feel better."
"Speaking of smoke, I smell cigarettes," Beth murmured. "How bad was it last night?"
"I agree I may have an anxiety issue," she admitted. "But I will not be one of those quacks who takes the crazy pills for it."
"What if you keep having anxiety attacks?"
"I'll just have to do everything in my power to keep them from happening." Which meant never seeing Blue Eyes again. This was New York City. Seeing him once was bad enough. Twice was a cruel coincidence. There was no way it could happen again.
"So I invited some single men to the party."
"Good," Juliet smiled. "Maybe your Prince Charming will be in the mix."
"I was thinking more like your Prince Charming," Beth said, looking up at Juliet's face.
Juliet laughed. "Sweetheart, I'm no damsel in distress. You, on the other hand..."
Beth sat up and screwed up her face. "Wait. Why do we want to settle for princes? They're just princes. We need kings!"
Juliet threw her head back and laughed. When she calmed herself, she said to Beth, "So what does that mean? Are you looking for a Prince Charming?"
"You think I should be?"
"Do you think you have one?"
Beth looked at her friend in thoughtful silence. Then she crinkled her nose. "You think I'd be an asshole if I dumped him via text message? I don't think I can face him. I don't think I can be eloquent about it. He'd probably be like, 'You wanna have sex?' and I'd fall right for it."
"Wow. Is he that good?"
"He's amazing."
"Well, that sucks."
"Yeah."
"But nothing sucks more than a man who knows he's amazing--and flaunts it."
"Yeah...that's true..."
"It's up to you," Juliet said softly.
For the rest of the morning, Juliet sat in moral support for Beth who broke up with, yet, another boyfriend, further cementing Juliet's permanent disdain for men. That reminded her. It was probably time to pay her favorite adult store a visit...
__________________________________
"I hate winter," Travis muttered in what sounded like more of a pout. "I hate the cold, I hate New York..."
"It's not even winter, it's fall," Eric laughed at his brother's complaining.
"So? In New York it's the same damn thing."
Eric knew Travis hated New York. Their family wasn't originally from New York, either. They had moved there as adolescents when their father's company started to get more and more business up north. After awhile, they had no choice but to up and relocate. Their older brother, Andy, had managed to escape the hustle and bustle of the city by joining the military and Travis had wasted no time relocating to the opposite coast merely a week after their high school graduation. Travis longed for warm weather, loose women, and a carefree lifestyle--and he had found one in Malibu.
Unfortunately, half a college education and seasonal surfing only got you so far. Unable to keep it up any longer, their father offered Travis an ultimatum--you either come to New York and run the family business or you come to New York and work for the family business. It wasn't much of an ultimatum, both of them putting Travis back in New York, but he had no other choice but to hang his head and come back home and he'd been miserable for nearly three years now.
Travis wanted no part of Reynolds Construction. He never had. But there was no way he was going to allow himself to sit behind a desk day after day, so he acted as the site manager, often doing as much of the physical labor as their laborers did, and Eric ended up running the company by default--and currently by trial, as Eric was literally their father's last choice to run the company he hoped to retire from and pass down.
The truth was, Travis was a genius. On paper, he was a bonafide, certified genius. To look at him gave entirely the wrong impression of him, but he was only beat out of being the high school valedictorian by half a point. It came naturally to Travis. Travis hated school, he hated work, and all he wanted to do was have a good time. Their father, however, had been gunning for Travis to run the business since the boys were very young.
Eric knew their father resented Travis for not taking an interest in the company, and now Eric worked himself to the bone to show his father that he was capable of doing the job. Because, unlike Travis, Eric wanted to be successful. He wanted to carry on the family name. It was a good business and he admired their father for keeping as such. But, damn, if their father wasn't such a hard ass, and he stayed on Eric twenty-four, seven, keeping him nervous and on edge. When would it stop? When would his father trust him? Hopefully, if he scored this Carson Innovations account, his father would finally see his potential.
"So, listen," Eric said to his brother as they left the chill of the city street and into the building that housed Reynolds Construction's offices. "I got invited to this party this weekend..."
"Oh god," Travis muttered.
"What?" Eric said, taking offense. "You like parties."
"Yeah, but..."
"You saying I don't know how to party?"
Travis snickered. "Come on."
Eric rolled his eyes. Well, Eric's history was no secret, either. For a pair of identical twins, the two men couldn't have been more different people, even as they were growing up. At ten years old, Travis was done with the twin thing, discovering girls and taking up an identity of his own. Travis was cool. He was good-looking, he was popular, and he was fun. Eric, on the other hand? Not so much. Eric was meek, shy, a social outcast and a complete nerd. He was gullible, he did everything his parents told him to do, and even now Travis complained that he needed to grow a backbone now and then. Sometimes Eric felt like he was this complete, entire person that his family didn't even know existed.
By the time they'd reached their twenties, Eric finally caught up with Travis. He'd grown into his own, mentally, socially, and physically, he held a bachelor's degree in accounting, and he was currently a year out of his second serious relationship--if you wanted to call the girl he slept with regularly during his senior year of college a serious relationship.
Eric looked around the hall as they stepped out of the elevator onto their floor and lowered his voice. "What if I told you the party was at Juliet Carson's place?"
At this, Travis stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face him, the collar of his military-style jacket still popped up around his wild, blonde waves, and Eric ignored the fisherman hat that made his brother look like a complete hobo. "You're lying," Travis accused him.
"Completely serious," Eric grinned. "I already told Walt about it."
"How?"
"That benefit he made me go to Saturday night. Turns out I met the lead architect for the company--very hot, by the way--"
"Single?"
"No."
"Damn."
"Anyway. We talked for a couple of minutes and she just randomly handed me this invite for this weekend. Wanna go check it out?"
Travis stared into his own eyes on Eric's face and blinked at him in silence for a second. Then he blinked harder and he spoke. "So...you met Carson Innovations' lead architect?"
"Yes."
"And...you still didn't manage to get a fucking meeting?"
"God damn it, Travis," Eric sighed, exasperated as he turned and opened the door that lead to their offices. "You fucking sound like Walt."
"Even you gotta admit that's a little..."
"I'm holding the fucking holy grail here," Eric lowered his voice at him. "I got her home address and an invite to go there. That's a little better than fighting a receptionist for a meeting at her office, don't you think?"
"So you're gonna go to a party and talk business? Did you inform the hot architect of your intentions?"
"It's a party, Travis. Are you coming or not?"
"It's at Juliet Carson's place, are you kidding? Of course I'm coming. That's the most elusive place in New York."
"How do you even know that?" Eric murmured as they walked toward his personal office.
"Everybody knows that. You can't even pinpoint what street she lives on. One thing about her dating habits, she never takes a man home to her place."
"How do you know that?" Eric asked again, growing more frustrated.
"Dude. Everybody knows that. Everybody. Where have you been?"
Maybe Eric had been studying the wrong aspects of her life. Maybe he should have been like the rest of Manhattan and not given a shit about what actually made her happy or what she was about--maybe he should have focused on her sex life like everybody else did. Maybe, then, he'd know what his brother was talking about.
"Mr. Reynolds," Kim said breathlessly as she rushed the two brothers, both of them looking at her expectantly. She looked from one to the other. "Guess I didn't really think that through, did I?" Then she focused on Eric. "Your ten o'clock is here."
"See ya," Travis said as he parted ways with Eric, throwing a near inappropriate wink at Kim and the poor receptionist barely able to hide her swooning. Eric wanted to roll his eyes but he was more curious about his mystery guest. "I don't have a ten o'clock..."
Kim looked confused. "Um...okay...well, I mean, I'll send him away and reschedule it..."
"No, it's okay," Eric said. "Thank you, I'll see to it."
Walking into his office, his heart sank with dread. He didn't even have to see the man's front to recognize the large body that practically hung out of the sides of the chair he sat in. As Eric walked around his guest and circled behind the desk in his small office, he plastered on a smile for the T&K Contracting sales representative, a man he was far too familiar with. As Eric recalled, young school-aged girls and women called his type a "frenemy..."
"Gary Sterling," Eric smiled, reaching across his desk to shake the man's hand. "How the hell are ya?"
"At the moment, I'm doing pretty good. How are you?"
"Good, good," Eric said, taking his seat and adjusting himself in his chair. "How can I help you this morning?"
"Office looks nice," Gary observed. "Better than the last time I stopped in for a visit."
"Thanks. We did a little remodeling a few months ago, tried to spruce the place up some."
"Did a nice job. Nice job, indeed..."
The men were silent for a moment as Eric eyed the large, middle-aged man. Finally he said, "Just cut to the chase, Gary. What's this about?"
"Well," Gary started, adjusting in his chair. "I saw you at the Humane Society benefit Saturday night."
"You did, huh?" Now Eric was amused as he sat back in his chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. "I didn't see you there."
"I was there. Saw you talking to Beth Knight."
"I met Beth, yes."
"She have anything interesting to say?"
Now Eric narrowed his eyes at Gary, letting his leg down and leaning his arms on his desk, lacing his fingers together in front of him. "What are you getting at...?"
"I assume that the only reason you would find yourself at such a function, with Juliet Carson as the guest of honor, would be the same reason I was there--except that I had a legitimate reason. What's your excuse?"
"You know, Gary, I don't like guessing games. I don't like to beat around the bush. Why don't you just say what you came here to say so I can get on with my day? I'm a very busy man."
"I want you to stay away from Juliet Carson and Beth Knight and anything that has anything to do with Carson Innovations."
"Is that so?"
"I don't know if you're aware or not, but I'm in heavy talks with Miss Carson right now regarding a building she wants erected--"
"Her new office building in Greenwich--"
"Yes. How--? I knew it. You're after it, too, aren't you?"
"Well, Gary, I gotta be honest, I had no idea she was even speaking to your company."
"She's speaking to me, personally."
"Yeah?" Eric's eyes glittered with delight. He knew, now, that all he had to do was get that meeting and that contract was as good as his. Especially if T&K Contracting was his main competition. "Is she, now? Is she personally speaking to you about that lawsuit you guys currently have going against you for the faulty wiring that burned down the last set of condos your boys erected?"
Gary's face turned red with fury and embarrassment. "That had nothing to do with the construction--"
"You contracted the electricians, too, Gary. You can't sugarcoat it. You're a contracting company, you're not a construction company. Let's be honest, here, you barely know what you're talking about. You know good and well that if it's about physical labor and it's between you and me, my company's going to get it. We're competent and we're resilient and we have a team and a system that's as solid as they come. And you know that. That's why you're sitting here in front of me right now, sweating my presence at that party Saturday night."
"Listen here, you little pipsqueak," Gary threatened through his teeth. "I've worked way too hard and way too long on this lead to lose it to some newbie punk--"
"Now, now, sir," Eric patronized him, still fully amused with the conversation. "Rest assured, I have yet to meet with Miss Carson, nor has she been able to fit us into her very busy schedule to discuss all the ways that Reynolds Construction would meet her needs. So you're still in good with her, no worries. No need to come into my office and sweat bullets and start the name-calling. We're both grown men here." Then he narrowed his eyes and he glared at the nervous man, leaning across the desk and lowering his voice. "But you're god damned right I'm going after that contract, and I'm gonna get it, too. Hope you got something in your back pocket to fall back on."
Gary sputtered inaudible words before he straightened his suit jacket and stood up in a huff, making his way for the door. "Hope you're not planning to go straight to her office, Mr. Sterling," Eric taunted. "She isn't there."
Gary stopped in his tracks and opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again.
Eric sat back in his chair and checked his watch. "Let's see...right now she's having brunch with Beth Knight as they discuss their weekly goals, and then she's heading out to meet with the realtors about the building she's buying. She probably won't be in her office for the rest of the day."
Gary's face turned a new shade of red and his nostrils flared with anger. "You already got to her, didn't you? I bet you spent all weekend rolling around in her bed--"
"I've never even met the woman," Eric answered, matter-of-factly. Then a smile crept across his face. "Know your targets, Mr. Sterling. Know your targets. I'm coming for you."
With that, Gary Sterling departed the office and he heard the clicking of his heavy shoes all the way through the lobby and out the heavy, wooden door to the hallway. Eric celebrated a silent victory and wadded up a random piece of paper, shooting it across the room and into the trash can. Man, it felt good to finally stick it to that man. He'd been a thorn in his side for so long now.
Eric's celebration was short-lived, however. Gary Sterling didn't need to know that Eric knew this information about Juliet merely because he was a creepy fanboy. What he did need to know, however, was that Eric was serious and he intended to keep his word. Now all he needed was a plan...
Juliet sat in her window seat in her kitchen in a pair of leggings and oversized socks, blowing smoke out of the crack of it from the cigarette that trembled between her fingers. Juliet didn't smoke--not on a regular basis. But she kept a pack of menthols tucked away in an empty coffee can for desperate situations--and she was currently on her second one.
She was humiliated. And furious. Her night had been completely ruined by the panic attack that had sent her to the restroom at the benefit. A panic attack that she couldn't seem to recover from. A panic attack that had Beth practically begging her to tell her what the problem was. But Juliet couldn't speak. And she wouldn't. Because if she vocalized it, it would become real, and it was bad enough that she didn't want it at all.
It was him. It was the ghost. The blue eyes that invaded her dreams, the blue eyes that her imagination surrendered to as she slept. The blue eyes that whispered sweet nothings to her and made promises to her and opened their arms to her, warm and safe. Juliet couldn't control her dreams.
But she sure as hell could control her real life.
He was poison. He, with his blonde hair the color of silk sand, with his eyes that glittered blue as the bluest of oceans, and a smile that lit up like the sun. He, who was paradise on legs, who was warm and enticing upon sight.
The devil always showed up with his poison in the most tempting of forms.
Juliet was angry with herself. Ashamed for letting him get to her, and for so long. She didn't like the way she couldn't control her emotions. She didn't like the way it felt to have not chosen to be attracted to him. Juliet saw men as nothing more than objects. Prey. She chose the ones she wanted to interact with on her own terms. No man commanded any part of her life, not in the board room, the bedroom, anywhere. This was Juliet's life and she was going to live it the way she saw fit.
She was not going to allow a pretty face to change that. Not for anything.
When Beth finally convinced her to come out of the restroom at the benefit, he was nowhere to be found and she didn't see him for the rest of the night. His absence didn't make her any less apprehensive, however, and as much as she tried to pretend that his presence had only been her imagination, she knew that he was, unfortunately, very real.
Too real.
But now she was safe. She was safe, locked away in her home, surrounded by all of her things, all of the possessions she'd earned on her own. Nobody could take her home and her things away from her. No male paradise could ever come there and stake his claim, he couldn't control her life, he couldn't taint her home and make her safe haven unsafe. This was her home. All hers. All of it. Nobody else's.
She was tempted to light a third cigarette when the thought made her stomach churn a little bit and she decided against it. Abandoning her smoking perch, she became suddenly aware of how quiet her condo was. Most times she relished in the silence, but tonight it was deafening.
A short time later, after a quiet, solitary nightly routine of brushing her teeth and removing her makeup, Juliet climbed in her large bed, alone, as always, and settled in for the night. She loved her bed and she was proud of it. Proud because no man had ever known it. No man had ever left behind his scent or disrespected her sheets. No man ever would.
Unfortunately, though, being in bed alone caused her mind to wander a little bit and this night was no different. Her mind drifted to Beth and Manuel and their similar words. They were only concerned about her and she understood that. But why did being single automatically make one assume you were lonely? That wasn't always the case, not all the time.
Except that sometimes...it was.
It was human nature to miss things and feel lonely sometimes. Perfectly natural. But was it natural for Juliet to look at the empty bed beside her after an especially vivid dream and wonder how her life would be different if he were there? Was it possible to miss something that didn't exist?
Staring up at the ceiling for a moment before turning off her lamp, she brought herself safely back to reality. It was easy to miss a dream because in a dream it was okay to feel things because dreams weren't real. But the reality was, men weren't like her dreams. Not even the flesh carbon copy of her fantasy. The truth was, men were all the same--all of them selfish, commanding, disgusting pigs who were only useful for their one appendage and nothing more. Yes. They were all that way. Even Paradise On Legs.
Especially Paradise On Legs.
As she turned off the light and rolled over, making herself comfortable in the dark, she hated admitting to herself the truth--the real truth. That she longed to see Paradise On Legs again.
*************
"How much of an ass did I make of myself last night?" Juliet asked Beth as they sat together on Juliet's antique sofa, gripping cups of coffee and flipping through masses of interior design magazines.
Beth had come over first thing in the morning, armed with bagels and demanded that Juliet start the coffeemaker. Juliet happily obliged, badly needing this Sunday morning ritual that the two best friends had shared since they had first shared an apartment so many years ago. They sat in pajama pants with the television volume on low on the Style network and they pored over their magazines.
"It wasn't pretty," Beth admitted. "I was able to save enough face to tell everyone you'd eaten something that didn't agree with you--"
"Ew," Juliet crinkled in disgust. "You told them I had stomach issues?"
Beth's eyes darted into Juliet's in thought for a moment. "Well...maybe in hindsight that wasn't the most attractive excuse..."
Juliet sighed in defeat. "Oh, well. Anything is better than telling them I had some random, weirdo freak out..."
"Jules--have you ever looked into...I don't know anxiety or anything? I mean, I know you're perfectly healthy, but this isn't the first time this has happened. I'll never forget that night at the restaurant over the summer...oh, that reminds me! Right before you ran off last night--"
"Can we change the subject?" Juliet interrupted, knowing exactly where this was going next. She couldn't. She couldn't talk about him. She didn't want Beth putting two and two together. She didn't want Beth to realize the impact that he had had on her. It was wrong and it was shameful and if Beth caught wind, Juliet would never hear the end of it.
Thankfully, Beth plastered a grin across her face. "Absolutely. Let's talk about the party that I--you--are hosting next weekend."
"Oh god," Juliet groaned. "That."
"I don't know why you're so against it," she replied, flipping through a magazine and sipping on her coffee. "It's not like I'm asking you to...you know...catch some kind of grotesque disease or something."
"In essence, you are," Juliet muttered. "I don't understand the point. I don't understand how it will benefit me. All it will do will...it'll...Beth, random strangers will be in my home. Sitting on my furniture. Walking around and looking at my stuff, spilling their drinks, breaking my antiques--"
"You act like it's some kind of frat party or something. It's not like that. It's just...you know, like a get-together. Drinks, heavy hors d'oeuvres--"
"Heavy hors d'oeuvres? You're expecting me to cook, too?" Juliet squeaked.
"No! Hell, no. I hired a caterer, you think I'm crazy?"
"What does that mean? I can cook..."
"I know," Beth said, her expression softening. "I know you hate this. I know how you feel about opening your home. But I really think it'll make a statement, Jules. A good one. I think you need some positive light shined on you--"
"Because last night wasn't enough positive light?"
"You don't do that for publicity. You and I both know that."
Juliet let out a breath and flipped a page in her magazine. Beth was right. Damn it, she was always right. Always the voice of reason. Always looking out for her. Suddenly she remembered something and she looked up at her. "Chris is a prick."
Beth's eyes shot up at Juliet's, wide and full of surprise. "Excuse me?"
"You know I love you--you're the only person on this earth that I do love--and you know I'm straight with you. Chris is a prick. Do you really think he travels for work as much as he does?"
Beth blinked at her. Juliet only momentarily felt bad for her bluntness, but the regret didn't last long. Beth sputtered for a moment before she managed to get out, "Um, well, yeah, of course he does, he's in high demand--"
"His dick is in high demand. Admit it. You don't have to tell me, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure him out, Beth. Seriously. When were you going to tell me?"
"Where did--where did this even come from?"
"I'm tired of men pushing us around, Beth," Juliet said, sipping on her coffee, knowing deep down that she was referring to the involuntary way that Blue Eyes made her feel. "We don't deserve that. We're better than that."
"We're not--you're not--nobody's being pushed around..."
"You know he's fucking around. Don't fall into that trap. Get out while you're ahead. I know you like him and you care about him and all that fun stuff but, honey, trust me. He is not the only specialist in the area that treats the kinds of diseases he treats. And you know it. Why do you keep him around?"
Beth's eyes darted around for a moment before she relented and her face fell in shame. "I don't know. I've...I've suspected for awhile..."
"Have you confronted him?"
"I don't want it to be real," she whispered.
Juliet sighed a sympathetic sigh and sat back on the sofa, wrapping her arm around her friend's shoulder and pulling her close to her. "I'm not saying to dump him just because I say so," Juliet said gently. "But you're a good person--sometimes I think you're too good a person. And you don't deserve to be treated that way."
"I wish I was as strong as you," Beth said. "I wish I had things figured out the way you do."
Juliet had to laugh, but she didn't mean to do it as loudly as she did. Maybe she was a better actress than she thought she was, because she sure didn't feel like she had anything figured out. And as for being strong? She felt like she was growing weaker and weaker by the second.
"You are strong," Juliet assured her. "You wouldn't believe how much stronger you are than me. And I mean it, I'm not blowing smoke just to make you feel better."
"Speaking of smoke, I smell cigarettes," Beth murmured. "How bad was it last night?"
"I agree I may have an anxiety issue," she admitted. "But I will not be one of those quacks who takes the crazy pills for it."
"What if you keep having anxiety attacks?"
"I'll just have to do everything in my power to keep them from happening." Which meant never seeing Blue Eyes again. This was New York City. Seeing him once was bad enough. Twice was a cruel coincidence. There was no way it could happen again.
"So I invited some single men to the party."
"Good," Juliet smiled. "Maybe your Prince Charming will be in the mix."
"I was thinking more like your Prince Charming," Beth said, looking up at Juliet's face.
Juliet laughed. "Sweetheart, I'm no damsel in distress. You, on the other hand..."
Beth sat up and screwed up her face. "Wait. Why do we want to settle for princes? They're just princes. We need kings!"
Juliet threw her head back and laughed. When she calmed herself, she said to Beth, "So what does that mean? Are you looking for a Prince Charming?"
"You think I should be?"
"Do you think you have one?"
Beth looked at her friend in thoughtful silence. Then she crinkled her nose. "You think I'd be an asshole if I dumped him via text message? I don't think I can face him. I don't think I can be eloquent about it. He'd probably be like, 'You wanna have sex?' and I'd fall right for it."
"Wow. Is he that good?"
"He's amazing."
"Well, that sucks."
"Yeah."
"But nothing sucks more than a man who knows he's amazing--and flaunts it."
"Yeah...that's true..."
"It's up to you," Juliet said softly.
For the rest of the morning, Juliet sat in moral support for Beth who broke up with, yet, another boyfriend, further cementing Juliet's permanent disdain for men. That reminded her. It was probably time to pay her favorite adult store a visit...
__________________________________
"I hate winter," Travis muttered in what sounded like more of a pout. "I hate the cold, I hate New York..."
"It's not even winter, it's fall," Eric laughed at his brother's complaining.
"So? In New York it's the same damn thing."
Eric knew Travis hated New York. Their family wasn't originally from New York, either. They had moved there as adolescents when their father's company started to get more and more business up north. After awhile, they had no choice but to up and relocate. Their older brother, Andy, had managed to escape the hustle and bustle of the city by joining the military and Travis had wasted no time relocating to the opposite coast merely a week after their high school graduation. Travis longed for warm weather, loose women, and a carefree lifestyle--and he had found one in Malibu.
Unfortunately, half a college education and seasonal surfing only got you so far. Unable to keep it up any longer, their father offered Travis an ultimatum--you either come to New York and run the family business or you come to New York and work for the family business. It wasn't much of an ultimatum, both of them putting Travis back in New York, but he had no other choice but to hang his head and come back home and he'd been miserable for nearly three years now.
Travis wanted no part of Reynolds Construction. He never had. But there was no way he was going to allow himself to sit behind a desk day after day, so he acted as the site manager, often doing as much of the physical labor as their laborers did, and Eric ended up running the company by default--and currently by trial, as Eric was literally their father's last choice to run the company he hoped to retire from and pass down.
The truth was, Travis was a genius. On paper, he was a bonafide, certified genius. To look at him gave entirely the wrong impression of him, but he was only beat out of being the high school valedictorian by half a point. It came naturally to Travis. Travis hated school, he hated work, and all he wanted to do was have a good time. Their father, however, had been gunning for Travis to run the business since the boys were very young.
Eric knew their father resented Travis for not taking an interest in the company, and now Eric worked himself to the bone to show his father that he was capable of doing the job. Because, unlike Travis, Eric wanted to be successful. He wanted to carry on the family name. It was a good business and he admired their father for keeping as such. But, damn, if their father wasn't such a hard ass, and he stayed on Eric twenty-four, seven, keeping him nervous and on edge. When would it stop? When would his father trust him? Hopefully, if he scored this Carson Innovations account, his father would finally see his potential.
"So, listen," Eric said to his brother as they left the chill of the city street and into the building that housed Reynolds Construction's offices. "I got invited to this party this weekend..."
"Oh god," Travis muttered.
"What?" Eric said, taking offense. "You like parties."
"Yeah, but..."
"You saying I don't know how to party?"
Travis snickered. "Come on."
Eric rolled his eyes. Well, Eric's history was no secret, either. For a pair of identical twins, the two men couldn't have been more different people, even as they were growing up. At ten years old, Travis was done with the twin thing, discovering girls and taking up an identity of his own. Travis was cool. He was good-looking, he was popular, and he was fun. Eric, on the other hand? Not so much. Eric was meek, shy, a social outcast and a complete nerd. He was gullible, he did everything his parents told him to do, and even now Travis complained that he needed to grow a backbone now and then. Sometimes Eric felt like he was this complete, entire person that his family didn't even know existed.
By the time they'd reached their twenties, Eric finally caught up with Travis. He'd grown into his own, mentally, socially, and physically, he held a bachelor's degree in accounting, and he was currently a year out of his second serious relationship--if you wanted to call the girl he slept with regularly during his senior year of college a serious relationship.
Eric looked around the hall as they stepped out of the elevator onto their floor and lowered his voice. "What if I told you the party was at Juliet Carson's place?"
At this, Travis stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face him, the collar of his military-style jacket still popped up around his wild, blonde waves, and Eric ignored the fisherman hat that made his brother look like a complete hobo. "You're lying," Travis accused him.
"Completely serious," Eric grinned. "I already told Walt about it."
"How?"
"That benefit he made me go to Saturday night. Turns out I met the lead architect for the company--very hot, by the way--"
"Single?"
"No."
"Damn."
"Anyway. We talked for a couple of minutes and she just randomly handed me this invite for this weekend. Wanna go check it out?"
Travis stared into his own eyes on Eric's face and blinked at him in silence for a second. Then he blinked harder and he spoke. "So...you met Carson Innovations' lead architect?"
"Yes."
"And...you still didn't manage to get a fucking meeting?"
"God damn it, Travis," Eric sighed, exasperated as he turned and opened the door that lead to their offices. "You fucking sound like Walt."
"Even you gotta admit that's a little..."
"I'm holding the fucking holy grail here," Eric lowered his voice at him. "I got her home address and an invite to go there. That's a little better than fighting a receptionist for a meeting at her office, don't you think?"
"So you're gonna go to a party and talk business? Did you inform the hot architect of your intentions?"
"It's a party, Travis. Are you coming or not?"
"It's at Juliet Carson's place, are you kidding? Of course I'm coming. That's the most elusive place in New York."
"How do you even know that?" Eric murmured as they walked toward his personal office.
"Everybody knows that. You can't even pinpoint what street she lives on. One thing about her dating habits, she never takes a man home to her place."
"How do you know that?" Eric asked again, growing more frustrated.
"Dude. Everybody knows that. Everybody. Where have you been?"
Maybe Eric had been studying the wrong aspects of her life. Maybe he should have been like the rest of Manhattan and not given a shit about what actually made her happy or what she was about--maybe he should have focused on her sex life like everybody else did. Maybe, then, he'd know what his brother was talking about.
"Mr. Reynolds," Kim said breathlessly as she rushed the two brothers, both of them looking at her expectantly. She looked from one to the other. "Guess I didn't really think that through, did I?" Then she focused on Eric. "Your ten o'clock is here."
"See ya," Travis said as he parted ways with Eric, throwing a near inappropriate wink at Kim and the poor receptionist barely able to hide her swooning. Eric wanted to roll his eyes but he was more curious about his mystery guest. "I don't have a ten o'clock..."
Kim looked confused. "Um...okay...well, I mean, I'll send him away and reschedule it..."
"No, it's okay," Eric said. "Thank you, I'll see to it."
Walking into his office, his heart sank with dread. He didn't even have to see the man's front to recognize the large body that practically hung out of the sides of the chair he sat in. As Eric walked around his guest and circled behind the desk in his small office, he plastered on a smile for the T&K Contracting sales representative, a man he was far too familiar with. As Eric recalled, young school-aged girls and women called his type a "frenemy..."
"Gary Sterling," Eric smiled, reaching across his desk to shake the man's hand. "How the hell are ya?"
"At the moment, I'm doing pretty good. How are you?"
"Good, good," Eric said, taking his seat and adjusting himself in his chair. "How can I help you this morning?"
"Office looks nice," Gary observed. "Better than the last time I stopped in for a visit."
"Thanks. We did a little remodeling a few months ago, tried to spruce the place up some."
"Did a nice job. Nice job, indeed..."
The men were silent for a moment as Eric eyed the large, middle-aged man. Finally he said, "Just cut to the chase, Gary. What's this about?"
"Well," Gary started, adjusting in his chair. "I saw you at the Humane Society benefit Saturday night."
"You did, huh?" Now Eric was amused as he sat back in his chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. "I didn't see you there."
"I was there. Saw you talking to Beth Knight."
"I met Beth, yes."
"She have anything interesting to say?"
Now Eric narrowed his eyes at Gary, letting his leg down and leaning his arms on his desk, lacing his fingers together in front of him. "What are you getting at...?"
"I assume that the only reason you would find yourself at such a function, with Juliet Carson as the guest of honor, would be the same reason I was there--except that I had a legitimate reason. What's your excuse?"
"You know, Gary, I don't like guessing games. I don't like to beat around the bush. Why don't you just say what you came here to say so I can get on with my day? I'm a very busy man."
"I want you to stay away from Juliet Carson and Beth Knight and anything that has anything to do with Carson Innovations."
"Is that so?"
"I don't know if you're aware or not, but I'm in heavy talks with Miss Carson right now regarding a building she wants erected--"
"Her new office building in Greenwich--"
"Yes. How--? I knew it. You're after it, too, aren't you?"
"Well, Gary, I gotta be honest, I had no idea she was even speaking to your company."
"She's speaking to me, personally."
"Yeah?" Eric's eyes glittered with delight. He knew, now, that all he had to do was get that meeting and that contract was as good as his. Especially if T&K Contracting was his main competition. "Is she, now? Is she personally speaking to you about that lawsuit you guys currently have going against you for the faulty wiring that burned down the last set of condos your boys erected?"
Gary's face turned red with fury and embarrassment. "That had nothing to do with the construction--"
"You contracted the electricians, too, Gary. You can't sugarcoat it. You're a contracting company, you're not a construction company. Let's be honest, here, you barely know what you're talking about. You know good and well that if it's about physical labor and it's between you and me, my company's going to get it. We're competent and we're resilient and we have a team and a system that's as solid as they come. And you know that. That's why you're sitting here in front of me right now, sweating my presence at that party Saturday night."
"Listen here, you little pipsqueak," Gary threatened through his teeth. "I've worked way too hard and way too long on this lead to lose it to some newbie punk--"
"Now, now, sir," Eric patronized him, still fully amused with the conversation. "Rest assured, I have yet to meet with Miss Carson, nor has she been able to fit us into her very busy schedule to discuss all the ways that Reynolds Construction would meet her needs. So you're still in good with her, no worries. No need to come into my office and sweat bullets and start the name-calling. We're both grown men here." Then he narrowed his eyes and he glared at the nervous man, leaning across the desk and lowering his voice. "But you're god damned right I'm going after that contract, and I'm gonna get it, too. Hope you got something in your back pocket to fall back on."
Gary sputtered inaudible words before he straightened his suit jacket and stood up in a huff, making his way for the door. "Hope you're not planning to go straight to her office, Mr. Sterling," Eric taunted. "She isn't there."
Gary stopped in his tracks and opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again.
Eric sat back in his chair and checked his watch. "Let's see...right now she's having brunch with Beth Knight as they discuss their weekly goals, and then she's heading out to meet with the realtors about the building she's buying. She probably won't be in her office for the rest of the day."
Gary's face turned a new shade of red and his nostrils flared with anger. "You already got to her, didn't you? I bet you spent all weekend rolling around in her bed--"
"I've never even met the woman," Eric answered, matter-of-factly. Then a smile crept across his face. "Know your targets, Mr. Sterling. Know your targets. I'm coming for you."
With that, Gary Sterling departed the office and he heard the clicking of his heavy shoes all the way through the lobby and out the heavy, wooden door to the hallway. Eric celebrated a silent victory and wadded up a random piece of paper, shooting it across the room and into the trash can. Man, it felt good to finally stick it to that man. He'd been a thorn in his side for so long now.
Eric's celebration was short-lived, however. Gary Sterling didn't need to know that Eric knew this information about Juliet merely because he was a creepy fanboy. What he did need to know, however, was that Eric was serious and he intended to keep his word. Now all he needed was a plan...