Charity's Warrior Page 3

  I tried to look confused, but even I don't believe it.

  Trisha smiles and winks. "Justin does come in a lot, maybe not every day, but if you stick around, he might come in."

  "He's a friend of yours?" I ask.

  "Now, yeah. Let me grab you a menu."

  Trisha stepped away and left me hanging, wondering what she meant by that. What the hell had they been before—enemies? I had to know.

  She is at the bar putting in my drink, and I see her grab a menu and head back toward me. Another table stopped her for a moment, and I thought my impatience might explode, but with a quick smile and nod, she was back on her way.

  "What were you before?" I ask before she even hands me the menu. I could tell by the look on her face that she'd already forgotten where she'd left off. "You and Justin are friends now—what were you before?"

  She let out a single, relieved laugh. "I'm not sure, actually," she answered. "We slept together, but it was only one incredibly, amazing time, so I wouldn't call us lovers."

  "Incredible and amazing?" I ask, able to hear the eagerness in my own voice.

  Trisha paused; her seductive Italian eyes looked around to see if anybody was within earshot. "Honest answer?"

  "Yes!" I demanded. My pulse is thumping with interest now.

  "He's the one I rate everyone else up against now. I screamed and then cried, and not in a bad way. I've never had an orgasm so strong that it made me cry before. But don't you dare tell him that!"

  "I won't," I promised her. "Girl code, I get it."

  We smile at each other, and then she excuses herself to check on her other tables. While she is gone, I have a hard time reading the menu with my eyes constantly glancing back up to the front windows looking for Justin. I want him so bad now that I can't stand it. Parts of me physically ache for service.

  Drink in hand; Trisha comes back to my table. I blurt out the name of the last sandwich I had read on the menu. I have no idea what it is, but I got it done. As Trisha writes it down, I restart our conversation. "So, you two decided to be friends after that?"

  "Hell no. After that I hated him for a while," Trisha answered.

  I was confused to say the least. "Why?"

  "To be that good in bed, it takes a lot of experience. Guys with that much experience are just to use to it, they don't settle down with just one girl. He was thinking a few nights of fun, and then friends with benefits, when I was thinking relationship."

  "He just discarded you?" I asked, getting upset for her. Maybe this guy was too much of a prick.

  "No, not at all!" Trisha replied. "He was never anything but honest. He was very open and respectful. It was me. I was the problem, but it took me a few weeks to see it and get over my pride. Justin is a great guy, he's just not a relationship guy—he's broken there."

  Trisha was off again to put in my order and take care of her other tables, leaving me with all this new information. His extensive experience has me turned on, yet terrified at the same time because I don't know what I could offer him with my complete opposite lack of experience. As much as I want him, I don't think I could stand the embarrassment if he was disappointed.

  Maybe I was just being a whiny bitch, and over thinking this.

  If I got his cock in my hand—or mouth—I certainly knew what to do with it. There was nothing wrong with finally having a guy that knows what the hell to do with a woman's body.

  I deserve it.

  Trisha was unloading a tray of plates onto a tableful of guests, chatting and smiling with them. When the tray was empty, she flipped it down, holding it at her side. One more check with them that they had everything, one more smile, and then she was heading back to me.

  "I want to tell you something," she started the second she got to my table, "not as a friend of Justin's, but as a woman. I can tell you're interested in him, and I saw the way he was looking at you last night. Justin doesn't mess around, so when he said he'd noticed you that means he's interested, too. Trust me; you need to go for it. All of us should have an experience like that at least once. Too many of us waste time just fantasizing and telling ourselves it doesn't happen in real life. But—and you need to listen to this—don't expect anything but great sex and a good time from him. Don't think about a relationship, don't read into his kindness."

  I smiled, trying not to be embarrassed. Trisha smiled back and touched my arm lightly. I felt the connection with her; it was the first sign of friendship I'd gotten since coming to New York. Maybe that was another reason it hasn't been going well, just the weight of being lonely.

  Whenever Trisha was not at my table, my eyes were on the door, every moment hoping Justin would come in. The drink I had ordered disappeared quickly, and its backup was now doing the same. I ate whatever the hell I'd ordered, and it was actually good, so that was probably my entire day's supply of luck blown right there. After a while I began to feel stupid for waiting, and I asked Trisha for the check.

  As she handed me my change she said, "He rarely misses two days on a row."

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  "Really," she said. "Since he wasn't in today, most likely he will be tomorrow. You should stop in."

  "I might come in to say hi," I said sincerely. "You're the only person I've really talked to in weeks that wasn't holding my resume and judging me."

  "Definitely, Girl. You have to come in then. I'm going to save my break until you get here, so you have to do it now," Trisha said, meaning it.

  She was a sweetheart. There was no reason not to come, no other plans. I promised her and then left.

  Over the eleven blocks back, I decided that I did have the courage to take Justin to bed, but that I also had the self-respect not to go searching and waiting on him like a fourteen-year-old. Tomorrow, as promised, I would go see Trisha. If Justin came in, maybe something would happen, if not—fuck 'em.

  I made it back to my room, took a shower, and then took my pretend Justin for a drive around the king-sized bed.

  TODAY WAS SO MUCH like yesterday that it makes me sick. I had one very good prospect from handing in my resume in person. It got me back to Human Resources and a quick meeting with a manager that went out of his way to let me know he liked me for the slot. Unfortunately, they were on summer hours and the department manager that had the open position was gone for the day. He was going to set something up, hopefully for tomorrow, and let me know.

  Trisha was more excited about it than I was, insisting we celebrate with a drink and a toast when her break started, which wasn't very long after I got there. She was timing our orders so we could eat together. My appetizer wasn't even finished when she joined me, both our plates in hand. And she had drinks for us to toast with, a small one for herself so that her manager didn't flip out.

  Justin is not here. I couldn't help a little curious check of the room, but I was not disappointed by that, I was here for Trisha. Turns out she was looking too, but she told me it was a little early yet for him, and not to give up. We toasted to the day, to the prospect, and laughed about it. Talking to Trisha without her bouncing off every minute was even better, as I had figured. She is extremely genuine.

  Last night I had noticed her more than the night before, which I think was understandable. She has nearly black hair and Italian, olive skin, and through her black pants and button up shirt uniform and white apron, you can see her cute curves that were similar to my own, although she didn't seemed conscious of them like I was. I had always pictured all the New York women as being built like twelve-year-old boys, tall supermodels, and I felt like I stood out poorly—even before I'd gotten to the city. It was good to see that wasn't entirely accurate, people were people everywhere.

  To arrive earlier for Trisha's beak, I had come straight here without changing, so this morning I chose something a bit more casual, a herringbone double knit jacket over a mild yellow cotton shirt and black Zoe Trouser Leg pants. I believed I had pulled off a great business casual and was feeling confident all day from it, prob
ably helped with the impromptu interview. And I could still picture it being eagerly ripped off my body by Justin's skilled hands. Now that is versatile.

  While we ate, I told Trisha all about life in Monroeville, Pennsylvania, and she told me about growing up in Hoboken. I talked about my ex, Steve Knowles, how he had wanted to get married, and I had called it off before it went too far. Trisha said she admired me for having the strength to do that and to go for what I wanted. Actually, she said she was jealous. She told me about her last relationship too, the guy she had dated after Justin.

  That's when Justin came in, as if on cue, but it was nothing like I had wanted, what I had been fantasizing about.

  He was not alone!

  It hadn't crossed my mind he might come in with someone, although Trisha had given me enough background that I probably should have expected it.

  Trisha tapped me softly on the shoulder, knowing it was a huge disappointment, and she got up grabbing our plates. "I gotta get back on the floor, just stay here, I'll bring you a new drink over in a minute," she said.

  I am much more hurt than I should be, and I'm trying to figure out why. He owes me nothing. I have no claim on him, but my heart feels cracked, and the whole thing feels...wrong!

  The woman he is with is hanging on his arm like a crutch. Bitch! She has his attention, and that was great. I didn't want him to recognize me now, not like this. They went right to the bar and sat. I can't see them, which means they can't see me—perfect! I'd rather be unnoticed so I can slip out.

  Trisha came over with my drink. "Well, she looks like a sure thing with that barely there skirt."

  I laughed, almost dropping the glass as I took it from her.

  She continued, "Seriously, she's just a one-nighter. She won't be around tomorrow."

  "It's fine," I said, smiling, "it's not like he's cheating. He doesn't even know me, or owe me anything."

  "Still," Trisha said.

  "I'm going to take off in a second, so he doesn't see me or this gets awkward or anything. Are you on tomorrow?" I ask.

  "Don't let him run you off," Trisha snapped angrily. "You were here first."

  I laughed again. "Technically for tonight, yeah, but this is more his place than mine. It's fine—it's just for tonight."

  I took a few minutes while Trisha was getting my bill to finish the drink she had brought. It went down fast, too fast really, but I was going to be walking back to the hotel again tonight, and there was plenty of time for my head to clear. I didn't need any change from the bill, so I was on my way quickly.

  There was no way for me to know when they were looking in my direction or not, since I couldn't see them, so I simply took a deep breath and went for it. It was perfect. They were sitting at the bar, both turned away with their backs to me and the whole dining area. I was going to slip right by quietly.

  As I passed behind them, I made the mistake of looking at Justin. Even though I'm upset, I can't resist the urge to check out his strong back and imagine my nails passionately digging into his neck. My eyes continued past him to the mirror behind the bar—where Justin's eyes catch mine.

  Fuck!

  I sped up, deciding that as long as I reached the door I was in the clear. The next few steps went easy, and I decided that Justin was probably thinking the same thing, wanting me to get out and not ruin his "sure thing" date. Really, there is no reason for me to be nervous. There is no way he's going to screw up his evening by involving me.

  "Charity?" he suddenly called out from behind me as I reached the door.

  Fuck again!

  For a second I thought about pretending I didn't hear him, but I knew it wouldn't be realistic, and I wasn't that much of a bitch. I stopped and slowly turned.

  Bring on the awkward.

  "Justin, hi," I said softly.

  His gorgeous smile greeted me. "How are you, are you okay?" he asked.

  "Yeah, I'm doing good," I answered.

  He didn't stop smiling for a second. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again, especially not in here."

  "I've always been a get back on the horse kind of girl," I replied with a shrug of my shoulders.

  "That's amazing, I'm amazed, really," he said.

  For a moment, I forgot about the girl and the awkwardness, and I was just lost in his smile and voice. I have no idea what it is about him, but when he smiles at me I never want it to stop. All I want to do is fall into his arms and stop pretending to be so strong. But I remember Trish's advice, and I know I have to get control of myself.

  "How is the job hunting, anything yet?" he asked, concerned.

  "Just an impressed H.R. manager that might call me back. It's a little rough out there." I tried not to sound too discouraged, but I don't think it worked.

  Trisha was working on a table right by us, and Justin got her attention. "Trisha, can Charity slip back in her table before somebody else grabs it?"

  I was protesting when Trisha plowed over my voice. "Absolutely," she said, "It's hers until she walks out. Head right over there."

  I shot her my best "you're a bitch" glare and she laughed at me, so I turned to Justin to thank him but turn him down. He already had his phone pressed against his ear to ignore me. That was not going to be enough to stop me.

  "Justin, I was just leaving. You have company with you—"

  He waved me off. He actually put his fucking hand up and motioned for me to go to my table—and I am doing it!

  What the hell!

  I hear him begin speaking on his cell as I head for my table, wondering why my feet are disobeying me, but he intentionally turns away and his words are lost into the loud room. Then, as I went by Justin's date, still propped up on her bar stool, she snarled at me angrily. She can kiss my ass; I haven't done any of this. I stormed past her and found my table and chair waiting for me like a couple of excited friends.

  I'd been so busy pouting that I didn't notice anyone around me or what they were doing. Thankfully, Justin wasn't very long before he was joining me. He had on a pair of dark blue jeans that made his legs look incredible, made me wish he would turn around and show me the other side.

  "Listen," I started, "the woman you're with is not going to wait and put up with this—I know I wouldn't."

  "She's gone," he said, smiling that damn smile of his.

  Since I couldn't see her from my chair, I didn't believe him, but he had me get up and check. She really is gone.

  "How the hell did you manage that so fast?" I asked.

  "I wasn't worried about that, about her, and she knew it," he said. "And you have an interview tomorrow, two-o-clock. Give me your cell number and I'll text you the details."

  My mouth flapped a few times. I could feel it, but I can't stop it. I'd gone from lust to embarrassment, back to lust, to anger, and now some combination of admiration and gratefulness. "Justin, really?"

  His laugh surrounds me, putting me back on the lust side again.

  "She's the decision maker, too, so none of that interviewing to get an interview bullshit. She should have an answer for you on the spot. If it’s no, she'll tell me why, what you need to work on, but if it's yes, you have to take me out to dinner tomorrow." He was proud of himself and not hiding it.

  "She said that, huh, that I have to take you out?" I joked.

  "Swear to God," Justin said, trying to look sincere, but unable to stop the curling in his lips.

  He took out his phone, reminding me he needed my number, and I read it out to him quickly. Within moments he'd texted me the info I needed, his contact's name, the address, and I have his number now as well.

  "I don't have enough words, Justin. You keep saving me," I said.

  "Don't thank me yet," he said. "I got you a shot—you still have to do the work. It's all up to you."

  I love the way he looks at me, like an angel he was about to seduce, with gentle, fuck-me eyes. I know exactly what I want do to with him, but I don't know how to get it, so I'm just following along to his lead. I know he doesn'
t want me to feel I owe him, but I really wish he'd just let me pay him back, and if he keeps looking at me like that I'm going to lose my mind.

  This was Trisha's fault, I'd wanted Justin bad enough before, but since talking to her, I just want to be taken by him and shown what a man can do. All of that skill is sitting in front of me so close that I could run my hands across his chest and dig my heels into the back of his legs.

  "So, the place you're going tomorrow is called Panther Inc., they're an Enterprise IT security company. You won't be able to Google much about them, they keep themselves pretty private, so I told Lena not to pull that "how much do you know about us" crap during the interview. The position is for an assistant to the Director of Sales and Marketing, now I don't know if that's the kind of position you were looking for, but it's what they have open. It gets your foot in the door to move around to other departments."

  "No, it's perfect. Lena is who I am meeting?" I asked.

  "Yes, Lena Croft," he said simply. "She will be judging you just on how you interview, so we need to get you out of here pretty soon, in to bed early tonight. And tomorrow, unless you have an appointment scheduled, stay in and don't worry about resumes, emails or cold calls. Concentrate your efforts on this one thing."

  "Anything else," I said sarcastically.

  "I'm not trying to be a jerk," he said through a devilish grin, "but I know you already, Charity. You'd take on the world if you had to, and if it resisted you'd push harder. You are stunningly beautiful, but you also face a challenge in the eyes like a warrior." Then he looked at me as if he was hungry and I was covered in whipped cream. "Let tomorrow's challenge be this one thing. You'll beat it, and you deserve it."

  Okay, the man could throw a fucking compliment! I melted. In fact, I'm not even sure I had resisted in the first place. What I did know was that right now I'd do just about anything he asked, especially if it involves ripping his clothes off and our bodies touching. I smile and nod at him.

  "Good," he said. "I'm going to go settle my tab at the bar, and then I'll get us a cab?"

  When I agreed, he got up from the table and went to the bar. Trisha came trotting over very excited about something.