TOUCH ME SOFTLY (5 page)

Chapter Six

Six o'clock in the morning is
excessively early to wake up, but with my cell phone vibrating as if there was a small earthquake, I was ripped from my blissful sleep. Right away flashes of my dreams raced through my mind. Images of Jareth peeling my lace panties down over my hips; the feel of his soft, sensual lips, as they swept across my breast, it felt so real, so enticing. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and go back to that world. A world where Jareth and I were tangled in each other’s embrace. A world where the only thing that mattered was the pleasure we gave each other. Reality quickly overcame my sexual desire, and so I rolled out of bed and headed to the shower. As usual, I had a busy day ahead. I had several cases that were coming to trial, and I had to start my research on Jareth's case. With so little information to go on, it would a take a little time to come up with the best approach. As I waited for the water to heat up, I slipped out of my PJ's and thought about Jareth's case. There were so many places I could start my research. Art dealers, museums and the FBI, all came to mind. I decided my best bet was to just pick one and start.

Stepping into the shower was refreshing, and woke me right up. The hot water felt good as it flowed over my
naked body. Right away, Jareth entered my thoughts. It was starting to become a problem. I couldn't do anything without wild sexual fantasy's running through my head. As I gently lathered my breast, my nipples started to harden. Immediately I dropped my hands to my side.
Snap out of it
. I thought to myself. I didn't have time for this, and besides, I had to get a handle on this situation before it went too far. A sexual relationship with current clients was cause for termination, and I didn't want to lose my job. Trying to think about anything other than Jareth, I quickly finished up in the shower and got ready for work. As I stepped out of my room, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Cindy would usually make coffee in the mornings. We would then sit and chat for a few minutes, before I had to leave for work.

The first creak of my footsteps on the old wooden staircase announced my presence, and I cringed. I knew Cindy would pick up where we left off last night. Truthfully, I was a little surprised she didn't try to conduct a full-scale interrogation last night. Maybe she was as tired as I was, but now she was wide-awake and I she would want details. "Good morning sunshine," she beckoned.

"Morning," I answered as I took my time walking down the steep staircase. I had a little time before I had to leave for work, and I wanted to waste it anyway I could. The less time I had meant fewer questions from my nosey, but well-intentioned, roommate and best friend.

"So..." she said as she sipped her coffee and peered up at me through her thick, blonde bangs. She sat there, on the couch, with her legs tucked under her and waited for an answer. Trying to ignore her, I set my purse and briefcase down at the base of stairs and walked to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. "C'mon, don't be that way," she giggled. "Was last night more than work, or what?" She asked.

"No," I answered with conviction. "Not really," I made the mistake of softly saying to myself.

"Oh... My... God... I heard that," Cindy uttered as she snapped to her feet and ran to the kitchen. "What the hell does not really mean?" She asked as she grabbed my shoulders and spun me around to face her. "Spill it... Tell me everything," she demanded.

"It's nothing really," I lied. "There's just a little something about him that... I don't know how to say it. That peeks my interest I guess. But it doesn't matter, he's a client."

"Who cares if he's a client?" Cindy said in a nonchalant tone.

"I care, more importantly, so would my boss and the partners at the firm," I said as shrugged my shoulders, breaking Cindy's grip. "You don't understand... I would lose my job. Not to mention the damage to my reputation. It would be really bad," I said as I sat down at our small, round, rickety kitchen table.

"Girl, you've got to live a little. When did you start letting rules get in the way?" Cindy said with a sarcastic smile on her face.

"Why am I even talking to you about this? I've got to get to work, and like I said, nothing’s going to happen," I smirked at Cindy, stood up, and walked towards the front door. She simply didn't understand. Talking about Jareth only made me want him more. If that was even possible, he was the very definition of sexy. Everything about him seemed to be designed to lure women towards him; designed to draw you close enough for his beautifully shaded green eyes to grab your very soul. Once he had you, it was all over with... All you could do was to allow yourself to be consumed with thoughts of making love to him, to fucking him, to experience the deep, sexual pleasure his body would surely offer. Running a few minutes late, I grabbed my purse and briefcase and jolted out the front door. "See you tonight," I hollered out to Cindy as the door shut behind me.

Thank God. I’m at work.
I thought to myself as I closed my office door behind me. Finally, I had something to do that would distract me from my thoughts about Jareth. As I sat behind my desk and pulled out my casework for my two upcoming trials, there was a light tapping on my office door. "Come in," I answered. The door opened slowly and Mrs. Lancaster slipped in, closing the door behind her, almost as if she didn't want anyone seeing her.

"How was dinner?" She asked softly. "Did Jareth talk about family at all? I'm positive he's old money."

"Dinner was fine, Mrs. Lancaster," I forced a smile out. "We didn't talk about his family at all. Other than the painting, that is." The look on Mrs. Lancaster’s face said it all. She was hoping I would help land the Summerfield family as her new clients.

"Listen Quin, the Summerfield’s could be a big money client for this firm. Make sure you keep your professionalism. Do you understand me?" She asked as she stood straight and crossed her arms.

"Yes, I understand what you mean," I said looking her directly in her eyes. "Now if that's all... I have a lot to do on Hillman case before trial," I forced out another fake smile.

"Oh that's right... I almost forgot about that case," she carelessly laughed. "When you’re done, with whatever it is you’re doing, just drop it on my desk. Thanks," She added as she stepped out of my office.

It was ten minutes after four in the afternoon when my phone buzzed. "Hello, Miss Wittmyer speaking," I answered.

"Quin, are you done with Hillman file yet?" Mrs. Lancaster asked in a stern, somewhat frantic voice. "I need that file now," she added.

"Yes ma'am. I'll have Lisa run it to your office right now." With a sudden click, Mrs. Lancaster hung up. Once again, she had waited to the last minute for something and was in a panic.

"Lisa..." I called out as I pressed the intercom button on my office phone. "I need you to run the Hillman file to Mrs. Lancaster."

"Sure thing, Quin," she replied. Within a few seconds, Lisa tapped on my door and came into my office. "By the way, Mr. Summerfield called earlier," she stood smiling. "He wanted me to let you know he would be stopping by in about thirty minutes."

"When did he call?" I asked trying to hide the panic on my face.

"Not long ago, maybe five minutes ago. I think it was when you were on the phone with Mrs. Lancaster," she cringed. "Also, I wanted to know if it was okay for me to leave after I drop off this file?" She asked.

"Leave early?" I muttered while not paying attention. "Yea, it's fine," I quickly added. After all, the last thing I wanted was for Lisa to see me acting like a schoolgirl in front of a client. The mere thought of Jareth coming to the office caused my brain to turn to mush. What would his presence do?

"Okay. Well I'll see you tomorrow," she said as she reached for the Hillman case folder.

"Ah...yea, I'll see you tomorrow," I mumbled as Lisa turned and walked out. Somewhat tense, I glanced around my oversized, but extremely cluttered office. Being the daughter of a founding partner had its benefits. After my Father passed away, and I came to work for the firm, the partner’s board voted to give me his old office. It had sat vacant since his death, and I think the partner's simply wanted to do something nice for me. However, it was more than I needed, almost fifteen hundred square feet on the corner of the building. In the shape of a triangle, the two outer walls were all glass, so my view of the city was fantastic. The inner wall was all mahogany framed in beautifully polished brass. On one side there's a well-stocked mini bar loaded with top-shelf hard stuff. Slightly off to the left there's two chairs and a black, leather chesterfield. On the opposite side is a private bathroom with a shower and, rather large, walk-in closet. Even with all this space, I somehow had a messy office, or at least I thought of it as messy. Case folders stacked, a foot high, on the chairs. A time line of receipts strewn across the chesterfield. Basically, my office was a mess and I didn't want Jareth to see me as messy or unorganized. Unfortunately, time wasn't on my side. It would take hours, if not days, to straighten up and I didn't have that kind of time. Nevertheless, I had to make an attempt. Therefore, I quickly packed up the receipts on the chesterfield and then turned my attention to the case folders stacked on the chairs, but it was too late.

From behind me, the smug sound of Jareth clearing his throat echoed throughout my office. The sound wasn't judgmental; it was more humorous, as if there was entertainment value in my chaotic disorder. Without turning around, I decided to confront his unspoken comment. "I suppose you find something amusing," I said as I continued my ill-fated attempt at appearing organized.

"Actually, yes I do," he answered. "So this is your office. Not what I envisioned," he added in a soft tone as if talking to himself.

"I know it's a bit messy, but that's how my mind works," I said as I walked the last stack of case folders over to my desk. "But I can assure you that my work is..."

Jareth suddenly interrupted me. "I didn't retain you to clean," he said. "I apologize if my visit as caught you off guard."

"No, no, not at all. Lisa told me you were stopping by. I've just been busy today," I smiled as I leaned against my desk. "So what is it I can do for you, Jareth?" I asked. All I really wanted to do was rip off his flat black, Armani button-up shirt and let my moist, warm lips slowly glide over his chest.

"Actually, I stopped by because I have to fly to France in the morning. I thought I would have more time here, but something came up that requires my direct involvement," he said as he walked towards the bar. "Do you mind?" He asked as he reached for bottle of scotch.

"Not at all."

"And I wanted to take one more night to go over everything. Make sure you have everything you need to get started."

"Sure. I completely understand. Let me close the door and grab your case folder."

Jareth and I sat down on the chesterfield and started rehashing all the information he had provided me. At some point, I asked him to tell me more about his family history. At first, I thought it might help generate more leads, but as he delved deeper and deeper into his family, I couldn't help myself. I wasn't worried about leads, or even finding his family's art. I wanted to know about his family because it told me more about him. What seemed like minutes turned into hours, and what seemed like one harmless drink turned into three. It was almost nine o'clock when I noticed the time. "Shit, look how late it is," I said as I stood up. "I can't believe I spent all this time listening to you talk about your family."

"I'm sorry. I did not intend to waste your evening," Jareth said.

Realizing how I must have sounded I turned to apologize. "I’m sorry. I didn't mean it that way at all, Jareth," I frowned. "I feel bad for taking up so much of your time for something that was..." I trailed off and tried to rephrase my words.

"That was what?" Jareth noticed immediately. At a loss for words, I stood there, staring at him, measuring the expression on his face as he stood and walked towards me slowly. "Finish your thought," he added taking yet another step closer.

"Ah...ah," I stuttered sounding like a babbling fool.

"Go ahead, you can say it," he smiled drawing even closer as I simply stood there, like a badly timed circus act. Only inches, maybe a foot separated us when suddenly the word slipped past my lips.