In the mornings, Jon jogged, taking his usual route around his neighborhood. He delved into his work, actively discussing contracts and accounts, which turned out to be far more interesting than he’d imagined. He never cared enough to bother with the details before, but now that he was forcing himself to pay attention, it was informative, and dare he admit it, mildly entertaining.
Every afternoon Jon spent his lunch hour with his best buddy, Travis. They ate great food, discussed women, and hit a few balls out on the range, but none of it could distract him from his own mind when it came to the lonely evening hours waiting for him at the end of a long day.
Jon glanced at his cell phone, an act that had become habit since leaving Patricia’s house last Tuesday night. He found the screen dark and lifeless, unchanging. When would she call? Would she call? He asked himself that question too many times to count over the last week. Even his own brain was becoming annoyed with its repetitive thoughts.
Just to be safe, he swiped his finger across the screen and pulled up his messages. Nothing.
Was this what the women he promised to call felt like, he wondered?
If so, it sucked balls.
There wasn’t one second that ticked by that wasn’t consumed with thoughts of her. Even the best distractions were weak. What was it about her that held his attention so steadfast? She was beautiful, but no glamor model. She wasn’t tall or stick-thin, but short and healthy looking. Absolutely nothing about her save her straight white teeth and contagious smile bore any resemblance to the women he usually dated. Or fucked, rather.
Perhaps that was the draw, Jon pondered.
All he knew was that he found himself smiling every time he thought about her, and that had to be a good thing…depending on the angle you viewed it from, anyway.
He twisted around in his chair to face the impressive view of the Chicago skyline. Visions of Patricia’s face, cast in shadows as she writhed in pleasure that he had inflicted on her, replayed in Jon’s mind. He could still feel the vice-like grip of her thighs around his hips and her fingers digging into his scalp.
Looking down at his hands, he flexed his fingers, recalling the way her inner muscles felt as they clenched around them. His cock jumped, straining against his pant leg. More than anything, he wanted to know what it would feel like to be buried in her succulent body, feeling the walls of her pussy milking him dry.
She was like no woman he had ever met before. Funny, witty, sexy, smart, and she knew her way around a car—she had it all. The total package.
He glanced at his phone again, willing it to ring. Again, it sat there in silence.
“Mr. Bradshaw? Knock, knock.” Jon looked up to see Poppy entering his office wearing her trademark friendly smile.
“Ms. Montgomery,” Jon said with a nod. “What can I do for you?”
Poppy strode across the room with confidence. Taking a seat in the chair across from him, she regarded him with frank, assessing eyes. “I want you to know that, while I appreciate you believing in my abilities enough to want me to find you a new accountant, I can’t accept the added responsibility at this time.”
“Well, you certainly don’t waste any time,” Jon commented. He pulled his chair closer, tucking his legs under the desk. “I like that about you, Ms. Montgomery.”
“Poppy, please.”
Jon tipped his head in acquiescence. “Poppy. While I appreciate your situation, I’ve seen how well you multitask and feel that you would, in fact, be capable of maintaining your responsibilities to Mr. Sinclair while also finding a smidgen of time to allocate to finding a much-needed accountant.” He inhaled deeply. “I’m sure I don’t need to impress upon you why having a capable accountant on the payroll is necessary.”
“No, that’s not necessary,” Poppy said through gritted teeth. Jon had to hand it to her, though. As pissed off as she was, her smile never faltered. “But with all due respect, I have a lot on my plate and I don’t think I could give this the attention it needs and deserves.”
“With all due respect,” Jon returned stiffly, “I never asked. The fact is, this company needs an accountant, one that is knowledgeable and a trusted member of their field, and you are the person I want on the job. Besides, I’ll be the one interviewing them. You just need to find them.” Through with this conversation, Jon stood. “I have utmost faith in you, Ms. Montgomery.” He led her to the door and followed her out.
“Mr. Bradshaw,” Poppy protested in a final effort to sway him.
Jon held up his hand, stopping her in her tracks. “The job is yours. Handle it how you see fit, Ms. Montgomery. I trust your judgment, but understand this, there isn’t a soul here I trust, nor any that have the time to take on this responsibility, aside from you. If you refuse it, you’ll be costing many people their livelihood. I don’t like being wrong, so don’t make me regret my decision.”
He stared at her pointedly, making sure she got the message loud and clear. He didn’t want to have to fire her, but he would. There was no room for softies in this business, only sharks.
“Whatever you want,” Poppy said. Pivoting on her heel, she stormed toward Felix’s office.
Shaking his head in mild amusement, Jon turned his attention to the young, blonde receptionist posted at the front of the office. “I’m heading out for the rest of the day. Hold all my calls and forward any important messages to my cell.”
“Will do, Mr. Bradshaw. Enjoy your evening.”
Jon rode the elevator down to the first floor. It was blazing hot when he stepped outside, and he hurried to his truck. Sweat had already begun to dampen his skin, making his suit cling to him. He tore off the blazer, tossing it into the passenger seat, and rolled up his shirtsleeves to get some relief from the heat.
With the air conditioning on full blast, he pulled out his cell phone once more. Finding no new messages, Jon tucked it away and pulled on to the road with determination. If the mountain wouldn’t come to Mohammad, Mohammad would come to the mountain.
As it turned out, Jon didn’t have to go to the mountain. He’d passed through two traffic lights when his phone buzzed. Reaching across the seats, Jon retrieved the phone from his suit jacket and put it on speakerphone.
Expecting it to be another business call, he answered in his usual gruff manner. “Jonathon Bradshaw speaking.”
“Hey, it’s me. Patti. Is this a bad time?”
Jon’s stomach dropped and his heart sped up at the sound of her sweet voice. “Patricia,” he drawled. “I was beginning to wonder whether I should start considering recasting my line.”
“Only been a week and already you’re thinking about fishing,” she teased.
“I’m afraid it wouldn’t be a very fruitful venture. I’ve never been much of a fisherman.” Now that he had her on the phone, relief swelled in his chest. Abandoning his original mission, Jon began to head for home.
“Is that so?”
Jon’s grin turned devilish. “It is. You see, I’ve never had much need to learn. The fish always just jumped into the boat.”
“Lucky man,” Patti said, playing along.
“Depends on how you look at it.”
Silence passed between them and Jon could practically hear her mulling over her words. Pulling into his reserved parking spot outside his condo, he waited patiently. “So, I was wondering…were you still interested in going out on another date?”
“Hmm,” Jon hedged. He stared blankly at the brick building in front of him, enjoying the moment where he held her in suspense. “You did make me wait an awful long time, but I guess I can let you take me out. Assuming you promise to make it up to me,” he tacked on.
“Oh, I think I can manage something,” Patricia said. “Pick you up at ten on Saturday?”