The Refrain Page 6

  Caroline’s face scrunches as she scribbles in the date book. “It looks like you have a weekly meeting at two p.m. Should I reschedule?”

  “What meeting? Okay, never mind. I’ll be at the meeting.” I scan through my emails while listening to Caroline dictate the week’s schedule. Luckily, I only have one current client and Fiona can babysit him.

  Caroline stands from her chair and arches her back. I’m familiar with this move and yes, I notice her tits. “Okay, Mr. Ford. I’ll be at my desk if you need me,” Caroline adds.

  “Please, call me Adam.”

  She nods, runs her hand through her red hair and gracefully exits my office. I know that game – and she cannot seduce me. I press down my intercom button and it makes a small chirp.

  “Yes, Adam?”

  “Welcome to the floor. Let me know if there’s anything you need,” I offer.

  There’s a long pause before she responds with an alarming amount of sexual presumption. “Good to know.”

  Ah, shit.

  “I HAD NO idea you’re a partner!” Chloe frowns as she rakes out the sliced tomatoes in her veggie wrap.

  “Junior partner. Here, use this.” I open an empty Styrofoam box that was holding my french fries. “Why didn’t you just ask for it without tomatoes?” I bite into my cheeseburger and wait for her answer.

  We stopped by a deli near Rockefeller Plaza and decided to eat outside near the Atlas statue. The best thing about the Midtown Manhattan lunch scene is the privacy. Chloe and I can sit on a bench within inches of fellow al fresco diners and have a completely private conversation – because no one gives a shit in NYC.

  “Oh, I like tomatoes,” she says while sliding them into the container. “Everyone seems really uptight at your office.” Chloe takes a bite of her wrap and shrugs her shoulders. “What?” she asks.

  “Nothing. Is your wrap just right now?” I ask sarcastically.

  “Perfect! So what’s up with your secretary? She was giving me the evil eye.”

  “Really? Sorry about that – Caroline just started with me this morning.”

  Chloe wipes her mouth with a napkin and shakes her head. “Not the redhead, the blonde. The little one. She was staring at me like I was a giant!” she exclaims.

  Fiona has a tendency to be a little unrefined, but I’d rather not get into characteristic details about a previous partner with Chloe. “Oh, her. She’s just unpleasant. What do you have planned today?”

  “I usually visit my kids on Mondays.” She takes another bite to muffle her laughter. “But, I’ll probably just head to a guitar store.”

  I think she messes with me just to get me to smile. And it always works.

  “I would love to meet your kids,” I say.

  Chloe smiles brightly and winks. “By the way, I searched through your contacts list. I’m glad to know I made the cut.”

  “I figured I’d keep you around to fulfill my Canadian bombshell quota.” I pick up my Mountain Dew and hand her a Diet Snapple. She laughs hysterically, attracting the attention of everyone around us. I’ve never been with someone that’s so unguarded. I like my privacy, but I really enjoy watching her overt equanimity.

  “Ha! I’m honored to represent the Canucks.” Chloe nudges into me while drinking her iced tea.

  “Well, for now.”

  “We’ll see! I bet you never get rid of me,” she smiles.

  She’s right. Until now, I’ve never thought about marriage and kids, or running off to a cottage to make jams and jellies on a farm in Vermont, but Chloe does some weird shit to my psyche – and I like it.

  “Hey, do you like the Toadies?” I ask.

  The green of her eyes intensifies as she exclaims, “I love them! I actually toured with a cover band last year. I mean, they wrote some of their own shit, but they were very Toadie-esque. Why?”

  “You’ll think I’m crazy.” I shove the last of the french fries in my mouth, regretting my disclosure.

  “I love crazy. Tell me.”

  I chew my food slowly, taking my time to really annoy her and test her patience. Chloe likes things instantly, but I want to teach her to savor the complexity of self-control.

  “Not yet.”

  She glances at the large clock above the ice rink and frowns. “Shit Adam, you have to go! It’s two-thirty.”

  Goddamn it.

  “I guess I should.” I collect our garbage and throw it in the bin, aware that every man in our vicinity is staring at Chloe. “Let’s grab dinner tonight,” I blurt a little too loudly. “In Brooklyn,” I add. Me caveman, my woman.

  “I wish I could, but I’m working at the bar tonight. There’s a show in a couple of weeks and I promised Dennis I would do some extra shifts without complaining. He’s springing for a new sound system – I kinda owe him.” She places her hand on my hip then slowly slides her fingers into the waist of my pants. Her lips hover close to mine as she presses her chest against me. “How about sex?”

  “I like it.”

  Chloe licks her lips and giggles adorably. “Come to The Bridge tonight. I put the address in your phone under the name Walnut Grove.”

  “I’ll try to make it,” I say flatly.

  She grins as she places her finger on my bottom lip. “Oh, you’ll come, Adam Ford.” Chloe reaches in to kiss me, but does a fake-out by adjusting my tie instead. She turns to walk away, stopping briefly to look back over her shoulder.

  She owns me – and she knows it.

  MEANWHILE . . .

  “Adam, how was your lunch? You missed your partners meeting.” Caroline invades my personal space, batting her eyelashes and swirling a teabag in a mug. “I think you would be impressed with my ability to lie on my first day as your secretary,” she flaunts.

  I back away from her and slip into my office. She follows me.

  “Caroline, I’m sorry you had to lie, but don’t think you’re doing your job by looking out for me,” I say firmly.

  “I – I just, what I mean is, I want you to like me and I didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

  “Relax. I like you. Hey, can you page Fiona Dawson to meet me in the conference room with the Parker files.”

  Caroline stares at me blankly.

  “You can find her extension when you log in to the firm’s directory. It’s 4768.”

  She nods her head and walks out to her desk. I follow behind her with my glasses and a notepad and wait at her desk while she pages Fiona.

  Caroline is definitely pretty, but there’s something about the way she uses her looks to manipulate men that’s unsettling. I know her type – I’ve slept with her type. She thinks by being my secretary she’s privy to my personal life or worse, that one flirtatious wink will send my dick into an involuntary boner any time she’s here.

  “She’ll meet you there now, Adam.” Caroline puts down the phone and sits at her desk. She busies herself with the mail but I can see she’s upset and possibly a little jealous. If I say something nice, she’ll take that as invitation to continue the flirtatious banter. If I say something professional or harsh, she will assume I’m ignoring her flirtatious banter and will only try harder. Caroline will prove to be my greatest work challenge.

  “Thank you Caroline. Say, what type of tea do you drink?” Earl Grey.

  “Oh, usually Earl Grey,” she says. She looks up at me from her computer and flashes a playful smile.

  “Me, too.” I don’t. “Okay, off to work.” Smooth.

  “Right. I’ll be here if you need me.” Fantastic.

  I meet Fiona at the door to Conference Room Six. She’s smiling like a smug five-year-old that stole a lollipop and I think I know why. We close the door behind us and sit across from each other at the table. She stares at me with a condescending smile . . . waiting for me to say something.

  “Jesus, Fiona. Just say it,” I snarl.

  “Say what? That you seem to be having a good day with the ladies.” She laughs.

  I take the file in front of her and start to fl
ip through the documents. “A good day would be some pizza and tickets to the Red Bulls.”

  “Hilarious. I knew you couldn’t handle an actual relationship!”

  I lift my head and cock my eyebrow. “And what about you? How’s your friend?”

  She shakes her head in disappointment. “Not happening. Do you ever think that casual sex is the best way to go? Because if you separate the sex, relationships just make you hate your partner, or worse, make you hate yourself.”

  “That’s deep Fiona – and depressing. I don’t do relationships, so I guess I’ll never know.”

  “We’ll see, Adam.” She nods unsatisfied. “Okay, so congrats on your promotion and thank you for leaving me with your shitty cases.”

  “What? I’m here aren’t I?” I put on my glasses and look over the documents in Raymond Parker’s file. “Catch me up . . . I know he wants to sell his share of a pharmaceutical company – so what’s the problem?”

  “Lots of problems. He’s been cooking the books for close to three years. There’s enough to get him on tax fraud, but there’s a whole lot more. Because he fucked with the finances, the price of a share in the company is much higher than what it’s worth. Of course, now he wants to sell it and red flags are popping up everywhere – like the FBI.”

  “Shit. Tax and security laws are not my area – why was I assigned to him?”

  “Because you’re a legal god and everyone wants you,” she teases. “In my paralegal opinion, which means absolutely nothing, you have to make him pay his taxes. That at least puts him in a better position. And if he’s a real prick about it, get off the case and turn him in.”

  “Is there a court date?”

  “Lemme see. Yes, a New York Supreme Court hearing in two weeks. He’s currently being sued by the pharmaceuticals company for withholding financial information. Fantastic, he’s counter-suing for forty percent of the company’s holdings backdated to December 2002. Lots of tongue-sticking-out and name-calling I’m sure, but at the end of the day, you can’t represent someone that screwed the government.”

  “What does he want exactly, besides avoiding federal prison? Is it money?”

  “How would I know? I’m just the . . . what was it that you called me during your first week?”

  “A secretary with a degree and a nice rack. And yet you still slept with me,” I tease.

  Fiona laughs loudly as I skim the file to find his last address listed in Connecticut. I remember this guy . . . kinda obnoxious, but he was having a tough year. He wanted me to represent him in a transactional case – I don’t remember the full story, but it seemed like a routine request at the time. But shit, a simple transaction behind closed doors just became my worst nightmare.

  “Fiona, schedule a meeting with him as soon as possible.”

  “Are you telling Shaw?”

  “Not yet. I’m hoping I can talk some sense into him before further investigations.” I remove my glasses and lean back in my chair. Fiona glances at my chest discreetly, and then places the documents back into the file.

  “I’ll let your new secretary know when I make the appointment.” She stands quickly and straightens her skirt. Fiona hurries to the door and I stand to stop her.

  “Wait,” I demand. She pauses by the door, smiling slightly as her eyes roam around my chest. “Fiona, some relationships can be fun. Look at us.” I’m being honest – sex with Fiona was fun.

  “You know where to find me, Adam.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Adam Ford

  9/1/03

  Re: Walnut Grove

  NEW YORK CITY has a colorful list of misnomers – like Gay St., Borough Park and Brooklyn Egg Creams. Chloe’s place of employment is no different but honestly, the name bugs the living hell out of me. The Bridge is a pub-style bar miles from an actual bridge and resides directly across the street from The Holland Tunnel. Most people probably only care about what’s on tap, but because I’m a purveyor of truth, I have to ask.

  “What’s with the name?” I ask Chloe as she pops off the lid to a bottle of Stella.

  “The Bridge? Who the fuck knows . . . let’s ask Dennis.” She places the beer and a glass in front of me and then serves three bottles to a waitress with purple braids.

  This bar is like most Manhattan bars, cramped, overpriced and oddly shaped – but the atmosphere is eclectic without being pretentious. And because of the strange layout, there is enough space for a small, elevated stage directly in the middle of the main room.

  “Hey Dennis, get over here.” Chloe whistles.

  Dennis is a small-framed white guy in his forties with a bald head and beady little eyes. He’s the type I wouldn’t fuck with in a dark alley, but the way Chloe interacts with him, it’s obvious he’s a big softie.

  “Dennis, this is my friend Adam. We have a friendly bet in the works about the origin of the bar’s name!” Chloe winks at me while Dennis shakes my hand.

  Dennis leans against the bar and rubs his chin. “Let’s see, I started as a bartender in 1991 and back then it was known as B&T – bridge and tunnel. But people started getting all sensitive in the ’90s and took offense to the derogatory meaning of B&T. So the owners at the time decided to do a very elaborate revamp of the bar, including a new name . . . The Bridge won in a coin toss.” He smiles proudly. “So who won the bet?”

  “I did,” I say. Chloe lowers her head to hide her adorable smile.

  “Good for you – be sure to collect on your prize,” Dennis says.

  “I will.”

  “Chloe, you can leave as soon as Devon gets here. It’s a slow night and I know it’s not your normal shift. Oh and hey, stop by tomorrow and we can do a sound check.”

  “Dennis, the stage looks fantastic and having weekly music is going to be a big draw. What about a flyer? I can have Nat make a ton of copies,” Chloe suggests.

  “I’ll leave that up to you! Nice meeting you, Adam.”

  Dennis walks toward a dark hallway, stopping to chat with a couple at the end of the bar. Every guy at some point in their life wants to own a bar and drink with their buddies, and I might be slightly jealous of Dennis’s gig.

  “I’ll be right back, lo-ver.” Chloe takes two glasses of white wine to a table of young women. They stare quizzically as Chloe nods in my direction. The women smile simultaneously and the one with the black hair and really tight sweater gives me a finger wave. Fuck, what did Chloe tell them?

  Chloe saunters back over to me and puts her arm around my shoulders. “Tracey and Kristen say thank you and would love to have you join them.” She laughs.

  “Is that funny to you – do you honestly think you can ever make me uncomfortable?” I run my hand over her round ass as she leans into me and strokes the back of my neck.

  “Follow me,” she whispers into my ear. I watch Chloe walk toward the dark hallway, her long hair swinging against her back.

  I leave some cash on the bar and follow behind her. She’s walking straight toward the unisex bathroom, fuck yeah . . . but then makes a sharp left to a concealed doorway. I catch up to her and place my hand on her back.

  “Where’re we going?” I ask.

  “I need to grab a case of tonic water and I thought you could help,” she says quietly.

  Chloe slides open the large black door, revealing a narrow staircase. I close the door behind us as she flips on string after string of white Christmas lights, giving the shoddy basement an ethereal glow.

  “Hit the lock, will ya,” she says, descending the stairs. I slide the steel bar across the door and watch her float down the old staircase.

  She stops at the base and turns to look at me, her alluring eyes seducing me. “Are you coming?”

  I descend each step slowly, knowing exactly where this is going and wanting to enjoy every single second. I reach the base of the stairs and put my hands in my pockets. She smiles as I walk toward her, stopping within in an inch of her body. “Where’s the water?” I ask, knowing there’s no water.

&nb
sp; Chloe wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me. She sucks obsessively on my bottom lip – the spot I surrendered to her all those weeks ago. I slide my tongue deeper into her mouth, causing her to gasp and release her unnecessary grip on my neck. Her hands move to my belt, hastily unfastening the buckle. I bite her lip – she unzips my pants. She slides her fingers into my boxers, gently stroking my cock.

  “I don’t have a condom,” I say.

  “I’m going to Toronto for a few days,” she answers.

  God, she confuses me. I move us toward a stack of empty wine crates, knocking a few over in the process. Chloe pulls my pants down and drops to her knees. I run my hands through her hair, guiding her mouth to my dick.

  “Give me your jacket.” Chloe laughs.

  I remove my suit jacket and toss it down to her. She rolls it into a messy ball and places it under her knees.

  I like where this is going.

  Chloe pulls her t-shirt over her head and throws it to the side. Her bra is ice blue and sheer, her nipples protruding through the fabric and begging to be sucked. She slowly lowers my boxers, her fingers trailing the inside of my legs. Her hot mouth moves over my cock as I lean back against the stack of wine crates. Chloe keeps her eyes open the entire time while I ram myself deeper into her hot mouth. Blowjobs are fucking fantastic, but having a beautiful woman devour me because she enjoys it is the epitome of sexual pleasure.

  Her tongue skims my sensitive head as she unfastens her bra. She moves my tip to her breast, tracing the contour of her nipple.

  “Oh fuck,” I murmur.

  “Adam, relax.”

  Chloe lowers her head and licks my tip, slowly moving my cock between her breasts. She smiles up at me as I take her hair in my hand and nod for her to continue. Chloe presses her tits together and hugs my throbbing cock, a perfect fit.

  She rubs me rapidly, flesh to flesh contact – my head grazing her bottom lip with each thrust. Then she moves her breasts around me slowly, licking my head each time it surfaces near her mouth. Her irregular motions are so fucking . . . surprising and . . . oh fuck. I don’t want to release on her, not like this—