Closely Guarded Secret (7 page)

I need to get out of here and clear my head. I grab my skates and storm out the door.

I strap my phone tightly to my arm and adjust my earbuds. I’m gliding across the ice, skating as fast as I can, trying to not think of Bryce and the way I seem to lose my brain when I’m around him. His arrogance. That picture from the paper is burned in my mind now, just as vivid as when I first saw it. I head into a curve and slow a little

Is Steven right? Was Bryce a victim of circumstance? Should I try to believe him, as Dr. Hunter suggested? I perform a camel spin. Do I want to talk to him again? I don’t know what to think. I’m sailing around the ice, doing crossovers, trying to clear my head completely. Nine Inch Nails’ “Head Like a Hole” begins to play and I’m flying like the wind.

Steven’s in the kitchen when I get home, “Feeling better?”

“Yes. I’m sorry I was angry with you earlier. I was mad at Bryce and you were here.”

“So you took it out on me, the nearest body,” he says, with a slight smile.

“Yes, I’m truly sorry.” I never want to hurt Steven.

“It’s okay, we all do it. Sometimes it’s easier to take it out on someone else, especially if we fear rejection from the person we’re really upset with. However – do us both a favor - call him.” My head snaps up and I look into Steven’s eyes. “Ali, I saw how you reacted to him at the airport, then at the restaurant. And the tantrum you threw this morning means something. I think you want to see him again. In fact, I know it and you know it. Just do it already, to give us both some peace.”

He’s right. I do want to see Bryce, if nothing else but to determine if we’re compatible. Calling him tomorrow is going to be one of the biggest steps of my life.

I
’ve never looked forward to going to the office as much as I do this morning. I’ve put last week behind me and decided to start taking chances. To put Jodi’s mind at ease, I’m also putting my vacation on hold. I drop my things on my desk and make my way to Jodi’s office. Her door’s cracked, so I knock and walk in. Jodi looks up at me, smiling. She thinks I’m going to tell her I’ll do Bryce’s photo shoot but I have another idea. A young woman sitting in front of Jodi’s desk stands up to introduce herself. I instinctively know who she is before she says anything.

“You must be Alixandra Quinn,” she says with her arm outstretched toward me. “I’m Trina Johnson. I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

“Trina. Yes, of course. You’re the person who gives out peoples’ personal phone numbers and emails to complete strangers.”

“Ms. Quinn, I’m terribly sorry. He was very insistent. I knew we were doing a story on him next week. Jodi was unavailable.”

“Ali, we’ve hired Trina as a temp assistant. Your assistant.” Jodi interjects. “It happened on Trina’s first day. She was covering the phones when Mr. Steede called. We’ve already gone over protocol and believe me, it won’t happen again.”

Oh shit. My new assistant? Don’t I look like the ogre of the office?

“Okay, well, as long as we’re clear. Let’s start over.” I hold out my hand. “Hi, I’m Ali Quinn.” She looks relieved.

“Hi, Ms. Quinn, I’m Trina Johnson,” she says enthusiastically as she takes my hand but there’s something else I see in her eyes that I can’t place. Fear maybe? Who would be afraid of me?

“Call me Ali. It’s nice to meet you, Trina. I’m glad we’ll be working together.” Trina excuses herself and Jodi and I talk about next week’s session with Bryce.

“So,” she starts, “you know we’ve never had a client call us before regarding a photo shoot? It’s their assistants who call if there are questions.” She’s eyeing me intently. She wants answers I’m not willing to give. I give her a blank stare, not giving anything away. She moves on and we go over the next few months schedule, some require flying.

“That means I have to get on a plane.”

“Well, yes. That is the preferred mode of transportation these days for long distance travel,” she says with sarcasm.

I turn the conversation. “Jodi, have you given any more thought about Sean doing the photo-shoot with Mr. Steede?”

“Ali, we’ve been over this. I know Sean’s a good photographer, but this is a huge article for us. I want it to be perfect. I know you can deliver what’s expected.” Her voice is firm but she also knows she can’t intimidate me to cancel an already arranged vacation.

“Please, just give him a chance. I’ve seen his work and it’s excellent. You’ve trusted him so far and he’s delivered,” I plead, championing his cause.

“Yes, I know he’s delivered, but I told you what this article means to the magazine. To me.”

“I know. How about this: I’ll reschedule my vacation and be there for support. You know, like an assistant.” I want her to give Sean the confidence to succeed, like she did with me years ago. I don’t want to do this, but for Jodi’s peace of mind, I will.

“Okay, I’ll take what I can get. If you see it’s not going the way it should, I want you to step in.”

I give her a huge smile. “He’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ve already walked a hole in the floor with your pacing back and forth.” She does that when she’s extremely nervous.

“No hole yet, just a very defined indentation.” We both laugh. Her expression has softened and I know she’s relieved.

I look at my watch and notice we’ve been talking for two hours and it’s lunchtime. “Wanna grab something to eat?” I ask.

“No, I have a business lunch with the other editors. Let’s plan on one day this week.”

“Sure, sounds great.”

I walk the short distance to a little deli I frequent where the sandwiches are to die for. The line’s out the door, but it’s not long before I’m at the counter placing my order. I find a small table at the back and settle in. After enjoying my lunch, I’m ready to tackle anything. I dig my phone out of my purse, scroll through the numbers, and tap “call.” I don’t want to talk about the picture in the paper and don’t plan to bring it up. Hearing the first ring, my stomach flutters and radiates throughout the rest of my body. It rings a second time before Bryce picks up.

“Bryce Steede,” he answers, sounding gruff and businesslike at the same time. The sound of his voice stirs something within me and those flutters get stronger.

“Hello, Mr. Steede. It’s me, Alixandra Quinn.”

“Ali, I’m glad you called. Please, call me Bryce. There’s no reason for formality,” he says with an authoritative tone.

“Okay, Bryce. Please, call me Ali,” I say, mirroring his statement.

“If you haven’t noticed, I already do.”

“I have.” I’m nervous but decide to cut to the chase. “I’m calling to give you an answer to your question. Yes, I’ll have dinner with you.”

“I like people who get to the point. How does tomorrow sound?”

“Tomorrow. Let me check my calendar.” Of course I don’t have anything going on tomorrow night, but I take some time pretending to check my schedule. “Tomorrow night will be fine.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up. Say, seven thirty?” I hear what I think is underlying excitement in his voice. I hope I’m wrong about his “command and conquer,” attitude.

“I could meet you somewhere. I don’t mind. I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way.”

“I prefer to pick you up. After all, I did ask you out,” he says with resolve.

“Okay, that’ll be fine.” I think about the fact I haven’t been on a date in years. Back then, what I thought of as dates were more along the lines of orders to be in the presence of someone who never thought of me as a human being with feelings. I give him my address and we hang up, me with a smile on my face.

Oh my god. I’m going on a date.

Several questions cloud my mind at once. Do I have anything to wear? Where are we going? He did say I could choose, but in my adrenaline-fueled state of mind, I forgot to ask. Do I call him back? Do I send him a text? I don’t know the proper way to handle this. I need to call Steven. He’s totally going to take this and run with it.

“Hey, Quinn. What’s shaking? You counting down the days until your vacation?”

“Hey you. I’m putting my vacation on hold.” I quickly go over why.

“Ah, that makes sense. So, are you excited about seeing Bryce next week?” No one could ever accuse Steven of skirting any issues.

“Well, that’s why I’m calling. I have a date with him tomorrow night.” I hold the phone away from my ear to avoid bursting my eardrum from the screaming on the other end.

“Oh my god. Girl, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear those words come from your mouth.” I was right. I think his head is about to burst.

He continues, “Where are you going? What are you wearing? We need to go shopping.”

“I don’t know where we’re going. He told me on Friday I could pick, but I forgot to mention it. Should I text him?”

“Hell no you shouldn’t text. You need to call him back and ask. There’s something to be said for the art of conversation in today’s world. It seems to have gotten lost with everyone texting, tweeting and emailing.” I knew he was going to say that.

“Okay. I’ll call him. I just don’t want to look like a fool.”

“You’d look more like a fool if you weren’t dressed properly for dinner. You’re way more confident than how you’re acting now. Head up, chest out, and call that man.”

“You’re right. I’ll let you know soon.” We hang up and I call Bryce again.

He answers on the first ring. “Bryce Steede.”

“Hi, it’s me again, Ali.”

“Hi again. You’re not calling to cancel on me already, are you?” he cautiously asks.

“No, no, I’m not. I hung up before I had a chance to ask where we’re going for dinner.” The exhaled air I hear on the other end makes me think he’s relieved.

“You can choose if you’d like. If not, I have a place in mind.”

“Well, I eat mostly everything and since I’m not sure what you like, we can go to the place you have in mind.” I’m thankful he’s choosing. That’s too much pressure for me for my “first date.”

“Ever been to The Cliff House?”

“No, but I’ve heard great things about it and that the views are magnificent,” I say, trying not to sound too anxious and to keep calm.

“The views are awesome and the food is excellent too. Hey, I have a meeting I need to go to. See you tomorrow.”

“I didn’t mean to keep you. Yes, tomorrow. Bye.”

#

Steven and I decide to meet up at Macy’s downtown. I stroll through the clothes racks, looking at all the possibilities, becoming overwhelmed. I look up and see Steven with Sampson in tow. I actually hear him before I see him.

“The Cliff House,” his singsong voice echoes around us. “You couldn’t get more romantic if you tried.”

“Steven, calm down. You’d think it was your first date,” Sampson tries to reel him in but fails miserably.

“You’re making a scene, Steven,” I admonish, looking around.

“Oh, who cares? Besides, it’s not everyday you get to go on your first date.” He picks me up and twirls me around. You would have thought he won the lottery.

“Have you told your mother?” Steven asks.

“There’s no reason.” I don’t want to have a conversation with my mom about this, getting her hopes up. “After all, it’s only one night.”

We walk all over the store and I’m not feeling it. Nothing jumps out at me screaming “buy me now.” I never know what I want and because of this, I don’t like shopping. The guys pull several dresses, subjecting me to the endless, tedious task of trying them on, parading around, and turning from side to side. It’s like I’m their personal display mannequin with moveable parts. The last dress I try on is a ruched jersey sheath dress, the color of a London blue topaz.

“Wow. This is it.” Steven’s eyes tear up a little.

“Absolutely. Not many people could carry off this look. See how the bold blue of the dress and her vibrant red hair play off each other? It’s the complete package and looks great. We need to get her shoes.” Sampson chimes in.

“She has a pair of Nine West nude pumps, which will match perfectly.” Sampson nods in agreement with Steven.

I wave my hands toward them. “Hello? Guys, did you forget I’m standing right here?”

“Turn around and look in the mirror.” Steven exclaims.

As I turn toward the three-way mirror, I’m shocked and I have to admit I like what I see.

“You’re going to have a hard time keeping that dress on,” Steven snickers.

“Oh, please. One step at a time, remember?” I change back into my clothes and make my way to the register.

“Since that’s finished, it’s time to celebrate. Let’s get some manis and pedis before dinner.” Steven exclaims excitedly.

I’m trying to keep calm on the outside, but my insides are doing flips as the reality of the situation slams me in the chest. For the first time in ten years, I have a date tomorrow night.

T
his day is dragging by and trying to get any work done is an exercise in futility. Bryce is all I can think about. I’m apprehensive about tonight; on the other hand, I can’t wait to see him. I hope my brain-to-mouth filter will be working when we talk. What do people talk about on first dates? I’m conjuring up everyone’s trusted friend, Google, when my desk phone rings.

“This is Ali,” Nothing. “Hello?” This has happened four times today. Have the lines gotten crossed, or something?

There’s no use pretending to work any longer. As I walk out the door, I sing over my shoulder, “See you later.”

I’m having a small glass of fortitude, and by that I mean wine, before getting dressed when Steven walks in the door. Sampson shows up shortly afterwards. They immediately begin to discuss my preparations and clothing like I’m not even here. All this fuss for a dinner is a bit over the top.

I’m showered, shaved, sand-blasted, tweezed and whatever else Steven and Sampson thought I needed to do. Sampson, having learned about my past from Steven, with my permission, is as excited for me, as Steven is – and just as protective. They both agree this step I am taking tonight is way overdue.

I stand at the top of the stairs, clear my throat, and begin my descent. Two proud and happy faces are staring at me, mouths agape.

“Well, what do you think?” I ask, standing there waiting for them to close their mouths.

“You look fantastic. Bryce isn’t going to be able to take his eyes off you. I’m so happy.” Tears begin to well in Steven’s eyes as Sampson puts a comforting arm around him.

“You’re beautiful, Ali,” Sampson says quietly.

“Come on, you guys. It’s not like I’m getting married or anything. It’s just dinner. Thank you, though.” Their reactions make me want to tear up, too.

“Yeah, and he’s going to want you for dessert,” Steven quips. Then he gets serious, “Don’t talk about that photo of him in the paper. Not tonight. Wait and see. If you have a second date, you can bring it up then - if it’s still something you want to discuss.”

I had put that picture out of my mind, but now it’s back. I know Steven’s right. I don’t want to ruin my first date with Bryce by being upset.

Sampson offers a tray with 3 glasses of champagne. “To Ali, a good friend who happens to be drop-dead gorgeous. May your evening be as beautiful as you.”

“Oh, guys,” I say in a shy voice. “Thank you.” We sip our champagne, then I remember I forgot my lip-gloss, so I gulp the remainder of my champagne, kick off my heels, and run upstairs. Just as I slip my shoes back on, the doorbell rings.

“Bryce, it’s good to see you again. Please, come in.” Steven is being the ultimate host.

“Hello, Steven.” Bryce holds out his hand to shake Steven’s as he walks in.

My heart skips a beat, my breath quickens and my knees go weak. Damn, he’s hot.

“This is my partner, Sampson Davis. Sampson, this is Bryce Steede, Ali’s date,” Steven says like a proud, big brother, emphasizing the word “date.” How embarrassing.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sampson.” Bryce stops in his tracks as his eyes meet mine. “Good evening, Ali.” His eyes trace over my body. “You look . . . stunning.” If I didn’t know I still had clothes on, I would swear he’d undressed me with his smoldering stare.

“Hi, Bryce. Thank you.” He’s not the only one doing some tracing over a body. I’m taking him all in, from head to toe. His tall, lean, form dressed in a crisp, white, long-sleeved shirt with the top two buttons undone enhances his muscular chest and arms. His perfectly pressed black pants hug him in all the right places, showcasing his long legs. Paired with matching black leather dress shoes, the ensemble does nothing to cool my rising temperature. His voice snaps me out of my daze.

“Ready?” Bryce offers his arm and I wrap my hand around his firm bicep. “We have an eight o’clock reservation.”

“You’d better be going then,” Steven says as he hands me my purse. I let Bryce lead me out the door. “You kids have fun,” Steven calls out after us. I’m absolutely mortified at this point and decide not to acknowledge him. Instead, I tighten my grip on Bryce’s arm and he places his hand on mine. We walk together toward his car, his support keeping me calm and steady in my high heels.

A man standing by his black SUV nods his head and opens the back door. “This is Charles. He’s our driver tonight.”

“Hi, Charles. I’m Alixandra Quinn.” I see Bryce smile as Charles closes my door. While the men are walking around the car, I buckle up and observe Charles.

He’s probably Bryce’s age or a little older, but not as tall. His dark brown hair is cut close to his scalp. His eyes are kind but cautious. He’s definitely muscular and I’ll bet if you ran into him, it would be like hitting a brick wall.

I feel as though the space in this car will swallow me whole. It’s definitely not my Mini. Bryce slides in next to me. He smells good. There’s a freshly laundered crispness about him, mixed with exotic spices and vanilla, swirled in cocoa and a hint of woodsy undertones.

The aroma makes my aching nipples stand at attention, straining against my bra begging for relief from his tongue. I want to attach myself to him and breathe in his scent. Fuck. Where did that come from?

My heart is pounding so hard against my chest, I wonder if he can hear it also. Once again, I have that hot, tingly feeling, the feeling I get when I’m close to him. Charles starts the car and we’re off.

“Could you turn on the air conditioner, please?” I ask, my voice cracking. I hope he doesn’t notice.

“Sure. Are you warm?” Bryce asks with an amused smile. Charles turns on the AC. I adjust a vent so that cold air is blowing directly on me but it does nothing to cool the burn surging throughout my body.

As the car glides along, we make small talk about the Bay Area and our work. He begins to talk about his invention, The Raindrop, but before he can explain fully, Charles stops in front of the restaurant. Bryce must sense I’m nervous because instead of immediately getting out of the car, he places his hand on mine. In an instant, calm washes over me. How does he do that?