black T-shirt, and Nike trainers, pulling into the ChatDotCom parking lot, the still-hot pizza and a six-pack of Long Trail Lager on the seat beside him. He parked next to Jordan’s Jeep Grand Cherokee, gathered up the pizza and beer, and went to the back entrance.
ChatDotCom worked round the clock, but after seven in the evening it was only a skeleton crew of a few technicians, a customer service supporter, and Dayton Phillips, the janitor and self-proclaimed night watchman. The steel door was locked, and Aiden pounded rather firmly on it, hoping someone would hear him before the pizza got cold and the beer got warm.
A minute later, he heard the clicking of locks being released and the door opened. He had expected to see the green-clad custodian, but it was Jordan who stood there, in a white V-neck T-shirt, jeans, and gold-colored flats. She was smiling.
“Come on in,” she said. “Oh, you brought sustenance! Here, I’ll help you.” She reached out and took the pizza box. “Follow me. I saw you drive in, so I let you in myself. Let me just make sure this is all locked up correctly.” She held the pizza with one hand and threw the dead bolts with the other. Then she flashed him another smile and walked past him down the hall toward her office. Aiden followed obediently.
He watched her from behind; her walk was graceful in the flat shoes. He was aware of her square shoulders and her small, trim waist. She was obviously active, athletic even, but ample and curvy where she should be, as revealed by her slim-fitting jeans. Aiden thought it was a good thing he was carrying the beer because he had the overpowering feeling he wanted to reach out and hold her. He ached to feel those smooth hips move under his hands. He swallowed hard.
They went into Jordan’s office. She shut the door behind her and locked it. The office seemed different at night; heavy beige drapes had been drawn across the big windows, and the overhead lights were off. None of the daily noise of doing business filtered through the big door. Lamps on the desk and the small table near the chairs lit the room dimly. Jordan set the pizza down on the low table in front of the chairs. “Have a seat,” she said.
Aiden sat down and took a beer from the six-pack. “Help yourself to the pizza,” he said. “Do you want a beer? I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since early this morning.”
Jordan let out an awkward laugh. “Thanks,” she said. “I had that meeting with Mr. Palmer, and by the time I got home, I had just enough time to sit down with Grace and share her sweet potato puree and prune pudding! I had a glass of milk, but I’ll gladly have a beer now.”
Aiden hadn’t touched the beer he opened so he handed it to her and cracked himself another one. “Cheers.” He lifted his bottle, and she reciprocated.
“Now, let’s get down to business,” said Jordan, leaning forward and opening her portfolio. “What did your father think of our agreement?”
Before answering, Aiden took another swallow of beer. The grainy goodness of it lingered in his mouth, bolstering his confidence. “He liked it, all in all.” He opened his copy and flipped through the pages of the proposal. “There were a couple of things he wanted to go over. How about Palmer?”
Jordan was intently looking at the papers. “He was about the same,” she replied. “There are a couple of things he wants clarified.” Aiden hardly heard her, conscious as he was of the way her neck curved and the exquisite little hollow at the base of her throat. There were random delicate curls around her forehead and ears, as though her hair, confined by the large hair clip at the nape of her neck, was struggling to free itself.
They worked for a while, sipping their beers, compromising on the salient points. Then Aiden finally tossed down his packet. “Damn, I’m starving! I’m going to eat.”
Jordan laughed as he tore into the pizza box and lifted out a generous piece.
“Want
ChatDotCom worked round the clock, but after seven in the evening it was only a skeleton crew of a few technicians, a customer service supporter, and Dayton Phillips, the janitor and self-proclaimed night watchman. The steel door was locked, and Aiden pounded rather firmly on it, hoping someone would hear him before the pizza got cold and the beer got warm.
A minute later, he heard the clicking of locks being released and the door opened. He had expected to see the green-clad custodian, but it was Jordan who stood there, in a white V-neck T-shirt, jeans, and gold-colored flats. She was smiling.
“Come on in,” she said. “Oh, you brought sustenance! Here, I’ll help you.” She reached out and took the pizza box. “Follow me. I saw you drive in, so I let you in myself. Let me just make sure this is all locked up correctly.” She held the pizza with one hand and threw the dead bolts with the other. Then she flashed him another smile and walked past him down the hall toward her office. Aiden followed obediently.
He watched her from behind; her walk was graceful in the flat shoes. He was aware of her square shoulders and her small, trim waist. She was obviously active, athletic even, but ample and curvy where she should be, as revealed by her slim-fitting jeans. Aiden thought it was a good thing he was carrying the beer because he had the overpowering feeling he wanted to reach out and hold her. He ached to feel those smooth hips move under his hands. He swallowed hard.
They went into Jordan’s office. She shut the door behind her and locked it. The office seemed different at night; heavy beige drapes had been drawn across the big windows, and the overhead lights were off. None of the daily noise of doing business filtered through the big door. Lamps on the desk and the small table near the chairs lit the room dimly. Jordan set the pizza down on the low table in front of the chairs. “Have a seat,” she said.
Aiden sat down and took a beer from the six-pack. “Help yourself to the pizza,” he said. “Do you want a beer? I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since early this morning.”
Jordan let out an awkward laugh. “Thanks,” she said. “I had that meeting with Mr. Palmer, and by the time I got home, I had just enough time to sit down with Grace and share her sweet potato puree and prune pudding! I had a glass of milk, but I’ll gladly have a beer now.”
Aiden hadn’t touched the beer he opened so he handed it to her and cracked himself another one. “Cheers.” He lifted his bottle, and she reciprocated.
“Now, let’s get down to business,” said Jordan, leaning forward and opening her portfolio. “What did your father think of our agreement?”
Before answering, Aiden took another swallow of beer. The grainy goodness of it lingered in his mouth, bolstering his confidence. “He liked it, all in all.” He opened his copy and flipped through the pages of the proposal. “There were a couple of things he wanted to go over. How about Palmer?”
Jordan was intently looking at the papers. “He was about the same,” she replied. “There are a couple of things he wants clarified.” Aiden hardly heard her, conscious as he was of the way her neck curved and the exquisite little hollow at the base of her throat. There were random delicate curls around her forehead and ears, as though her hair, confined by the large hair clip at the nape of her neck, was struggling to free itself.
They worked for a while, sipping their beers, compromising on the salient points. Then Aiden finally tossed down his packet. “Damn, I’m starving! I’m going to eat.”
Jordan laughed as he tore into the pizza box and lifted out a generous piece.
“Want
Similar Books
