The Everlasting Chapel (4 page)

He leans forward again, and brushes my hand
lightly with his. “You did it because you had to, Scarlett. I don’t
think you would have chosen to do it had you not been so
financially strained.”

“True, but I still felt super guilty. I
mean, it’s not who I am. It’s just what I did to get by, and even
though I only worked there for six months, I hated it.”

“I’m glad you told me,” he says. “I just did
it to get by, too. My parents still don’t know what I did. I
haven’t been able to get myself to tell them.”

I can’t help but keep smiling—so much that
my cheeks cramp. Finally I have someone who understands me
completely, and his life turned out pretty good. I mean, he’s a
doctor for crying out loud! Suddenly, I find him a whole lot more
attractive. Not in a sexual sense, although he is plenty sexy, just
in an ‘I really, really like this guy’ kind of a way.

“Did you like working as a stripper?” I ask,
sipping my diet soda.

“There were parts of it I enjoyed,” he
says.

“Like what?” My ears are pinned.

“Don’t judge me if I tell you,” he smiles,
and sticks the tip of his tongue between his teeth.

“Trust me, I won’t. I just want to see if we
have more things in common.”

The waitress brings us our food and I start
to eat.

“I liked the sexual freedom that came with
it,” he says. “Being able to connect with that part of me, and the
part women don’t usually allow themselves to express. Growing up, I
always felt I was sexually repressed, as if that side of me was
sordid and filthy—a taboo. You see, my parents are very religious,
and we never discussed such matters at home. My father couldn’t
even watch a show that had kissing in it. He’d immediately turn the
channel to something else. And my mother, bless her heart, I’m sure
she never even had an orgasm in her entire life, poor woman.”

I laugh.

“I’m surprised they even managed to have
three kids.”

I can’t believe we’re actually having this
conversation over lunch, but I absolutely love it. “Do you have
brothers? Sisters?”

“Two sisters,” he says. “Both are younger
than me.”

“So are you like the big over-protective
brother?” I ask.

“Yes, very over-protective.”

“That’s sweet,” I say, taking another bite
of my salad.

“They’re both attending the University of
Texas at the moment. What about you?”

I give him a questioning look.

“Did you like any part of the job?” he
asks.

I think for a moment. “Well, I did enjoy
connecting with that part of me, but at the same time I hated being
objectified. Most men were respectful, but in the end, I felt they
just came for a show and a sexy woman they could imagine fucking
when they went home.”

“Did you ever do private parties?”

Should I tell him? Sure, what the hell. “I
did, and I don’t know if you’ve heard about Michael Manning and
that whole fiasco.” I roll my eyes.

“Vaguely on the news. I don’t listen to the
news much. There are too many depressing things and just a bunch of
gossip.”

“I don’t blame you. Anyway, it’s a long
story. I did a few private sessions with him, and…well, it’s really
complicated.” I still don’t feel comfortable enough yet around
Spencer to discuss it in detail. And this is not the right setting.
I might break down, and that’s not something I want to do at the
moment.

“I’ve had one of those complicated
relationships myself,” he says. “Unfortunately, it didn’t work
out.”

Great, just what I didn’t want to hear. But
then again, it’s not something I don’t know already.

“So you dated, and then…?” he prods.

“In brief, I just broke it off with him.” I
already feel my chest tightening. Trying to take my mind off it
before I lose it, I look at the time. “Shit. I have to be back at
work in five minutes.”

“You should complain about a measly thirty
minute lunch break,” he says.

“Well, I kind of set it up that way so I
could get to my other job on time.” I scarf down a few more bites
of my salad. Spencer graciously pays the bill, and walks me back
over to the museum.

“Well, I had a great time,” I say. “Thank
you for lunch.”

“Want to catch lunch again tomorrow? Same
time, same place?” He gives me a gorgeous smile. Now how can I
resist that?

“Sure,” I say, genuinely excited to find
someone I connect with, and someone I can be completely open with.
He reaches his arm around me, and presses his warm cheek to mine.
My stomach doesn’t flutter like it does when that
other
guy
touches me. Maybe that’s a good thing.

“There’s just something I have to tell you,”
I say, feeling the need to be completely honest with him so there
aren’t any misunderstandings or misplaced expectations.

“There’s more?” he says with a jovial tone.
“You are very intriguing.”

“Not like that,” I say. “Since I just
recently broke it off with Michael, I’m not quite ready to move on
yet.” I hope I’m not presuming too much. He hasn’t declared his
intentions, but asking a girl out two days in a row makes me think
he is looking for more than friendship.

“Oh, well…I wasn’t going to force myself on
you. I just thought we had a good time, and I don’t really like
eating alone. There’s no pressure. I’d still love to eat and talk
with you if that’s okay, though.”

His comment brings out a laugh in me. “Fine.
I really enjoyed our lunch together. And yes, we do have lots to
talk about.”

He winks at me and turns on his heels,
waving as he walks away down the street. “See you tomorrow.”

4

When I get back to work, Michael is waiting
for me with a bouquet of red roses. As soon as I see him, my heart
goes into overdrive. He’s wearing loose faded jeans and a thin,
white linen shirt. The top button of the shirt is undone, and the
sleeves are rolled up to his elbows so I can see his strong
forearms. A sudden spark of desire ignites between my legs. Okay,
body, why don’t you try being on my side for once?

I give him an evil eye, and walk right past
him. When I don’t approach him, but go in the back office to drop
off my purse, he has the audacity to follow me.

“You’re not supposed to be back here,” I say
without turning around. “It’s for personnel only.”

“I already spoke with your boss, and he said
it was fine if I took you out to lunch,” he says.

“Well, of course you did,” I mutter angrily,
making a mental note that I need to have a word with my boss if
he’s so easily persuaded by Michael. I glare at him. “I already had
lunch with Dr. Spencer Jamison so I’m not hungry. Good-bye.”

His eyes flinch just a tad, and that makes
me feel guilty. But then I remind myself that I don’t want to keep
living these lies anymore. It felt so good to be with Spencer. With
Michael everything is complicated, and it is impossible to keep the
lies separated from what’s true.

“Don’t make me beg,” he says.

“I’m not making you beg. I just don’t want
to go out with you, that’s all.” I continue to glare at him.

He gets down on his knees.

“What the hell are you doing?” I hiss. “Get
up! You’re going to get me fired for breaking all the rules.”

“No, I already told you…”

Just then, Staci, my nineteen-year old clerk
walks in. “Uh…sorry,” she says, looking from Michael to me.

“Michael was just leaving,” I say. I tear
the flowers out of his hand and throw them into the trash on the
way out to the store. Staci trails after me.

“Rob said I should take over for you. Aren’t
you going?” she asks.

“No,” I snap.

“But he was so romantic down on one knee and
with the flowers,” she says.

“Then maybe you should go out with him.” The
second the words fall out of my mouth, I wish I could take them
back. Both because, for whatever crazy reason, I don’t want him to
go out with her, and as her supervisor, I shouldn’t be saying those
kinds of things.

I stop walking. “Sorry. That was
inappropriate.”

Michael stands by the exit. Dammit! Why am I
still attracted to him? Because he’s sexy as hell, my alter-ego
reminds me. Yeah, but he is a compulsive liar, I retort. And
amazing in bed, my alter-ego snaps back. I glare at him a while
longer, which I really shouldn’t do considering my past and what
happens when I do glare at him too long.

I step behind the counter and pretend to be
busy, while Staci takes care of the three customers that are in
here.

After a few minutes, Michael approaches me.
“Listen, it’s just lunch. That’s all. Or coffee. Or dessert, I
suppose, since you already ate with the doctor.”

He stares at me from across the counter, and
I do everything in my power to make sure he doesn’t affect me in
any way. But then when he picks up one of the feather pens and
starts to blow on it, I can’t help but remember the plane ride and
how he used a feather to taunt me, tease me, and drive me
absolutely crazy. Suddenly, goosebumps speckle my arms and thighs.
And then my inner muscles clench.

“What are you doing?” I ask, although I know
exactly what the sexy scoundrel is up to. No good, that’s what he’s
up to.

“You don’t remember?” he asks, a teasing
smile at his lips.

“Remember what?” I ask nonchalantly, peering
at him in all innocence. But then heat rushes to my cheeks and I
have to look away so he won’t notice.

He grins, making his wickedly sexy dimples
come out. “Don’t pretend you don’t remember,” he says in a low,
gruff voice, peering at me from underneath his lashes. “Listen, I
promise I won’t make a move on you.”

I give him a ‘really?’ look.

“I’m not a teenage boy who can’t control
myself, Scar,” he says.

“I—”

“I just want to talk,” he continues.

“I—”

“You don’t have to—”

“Will you just shut up and listen?” I yell.
All three customers turn around and glare at me.

I huff and lower my head. “Fine. Wait here.
I’ll get my purse.”

“You don’t need it,” he says.

“Yes, I do.” I stomp back to the office and
snatch it. “You have thirty minutes,” I say, storming past Michael.
He runs after me, a wide, boyish grin on his triumphant face.

And against all the reasonableness and
resolve I have managed to muster over the past two weeks, my
stomach has the nerve to turn into a swarm of butterflies.

* * *

Michael takes me to Sierra’s, one of
Portland’s most expensive restaurants. He doesn’t say anything on
the way over, but is a perfect gentleman, opening all the doors for
me. We sit down across from each other by a window table. Not a
second later, the waiter is there taking our order.

“Just coffee for me,” I say. “Three sugars,
one cream.”

“I’ll have the ahi tuna salad,” Michael
says. “And a glass of chardonnay.” The waiter smiles, and vanishes
to the back.

“So, what is it?” I snap.

“Scar…”

“As far as I’m concerned, we have nothing
more to talk about.”

He leans in. “You know that’s a lie.”

Damn him and his holier than thou attitude
right now. “Okay. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I can understand that.”

“Can you? Because you sure as hell don’t
know everything there is to know about me and what has happened
over the past two weeks.” I think about the letter and check Diane
sent me. I should tell him about that, although if I do, I lose all
the money. This is just messed up, and what’s worse is, it’s
never-ending! I don’t want to be the one who keeps him from his
inheritance, and the letter specifically stated that if he didn’t
propose within a year, his portion would be donated to charity.

His upper lip tenses just a tad. “Well, I’m
all ears.”

“I’ve started dating again,” I say point
blank.

“Well, you’re a smart and beautiful woman.
I’m sure many guys would love to date you.”

“Spencer and I have a lot in common,” I say.
My wall is growing taller. Stronger. Hell, I can fend him off all
day long if I need to.

“Really? Tell me about him,” he says.

I hadn’t expected him to say that. Suddenly
I’m lost and have nothing relevant to say.

“That much in common, huh?” He smiles.

“I’m not discussing our relationship with
you.”

He doesn’t say anything, but just sits there
quietly and stares at me.

“Stop staring,” I hiss.

“I can’t stop staring. You’re so fucking
beautiful when you’re mad.”

My heart misses a beat, and my jaw wants to
fall to the table, but I clamp it shut. Shit! Even his cheesy
smooth-talk, which should be a huge turn off, turns me on.

“When you’re done with the fling, I’ll still
be here,” he says.

“It’s not a fling.” Suddenly, I wish my
relationship with Spencer had progressed much further, because then
I could throw it in Michael’s face. Wow, how in the world did I
become so mean and shallow? Hell, Spencer and I don’t even have a
relationship, and there’s no fling there either. And if I were
completely rational right now, I would realize that I don’t want to
use Spencer to get back at Michael in that way. It just isn’t
right.

“You know just as well as I do that we
belong together,” he says. “When the sun comes up, we should be
together. When the sun goes down we should be in each other’s arms
making sweet love. I should be worshipping your body, making you
come over and over, licking, sucking on, and fucking that sweet
pussy of yours. But it’s not just that, Scarlett. I love you.
I don’t know when I started loving you, but what I
do know is that I will never stop.”

All at once, the room feels very, very hot.
I feel intense heat rush to my cheeks, and the throbbing sensation
builds between my legs, but I look away. I can’t tell whether I’m
reacting this way because I’m angry as hell or if it is because
he’s right. But dammit, I don’t want to let him be right!