Naomi pulled her car up to an empty spot in front of A.E. & Associates. She peeked through her windshield at the large building and was impressed. The steel-glass building stood stories high and looked every bit of what New York City architecture was. This was certainly much classier than her own office building.
She felt the bundle of nerves in her stomach as she glanced over the bold, black lettering of the awning. Over the years, she had met with big company figures much more intimidating and much more demanding than what the partners of the law firm were asking for but, she couldn't help but feel anxious. She didn't know what to expect. Her phone vibrated in her messenger bag next to her and she peeled her gaze away from the building to reach for it. Seeing it was Jazzy, she quickly picked up. "Hey, Jazzy."
"Are you there yet?" Jazzy asked with too much excitement for a Monday morning.
"Yea. I just pulled up," she replied as she killed the engine, "How's everything going over there?"
"Pretty well. The shipment of tablecloths that you ordered for the St. James wedding arrived and all we have left are the center pieces."
"Good," Naomi said with a sigh of relief. With July just around the corner they would be receiving new shipment of supplies a lot more than usual. With so many weddings and other events to plan for the summer season it was easy to mix up the orders but, luckily, she had Jazzy, her administrative assistant, who was able to sort out any mishaps before they became a major problem.
"Don't worry, Nay, I have everything handled," Jazzy said, laughing. "You just worry about how you're going to deliver your ideas to those partners."
Naomi drew in a shaky breath through her lips, glancing over at the building once more. If only her friend knew just how much she was worrying. After a few more minutes on the phone, rehashing over the details of their weekend spent together, Naomi hung up. A quick look at the time indicated that she was fifteen minutes early. She didn't want to ruin her chances in impressing her new employers. If the firm had selected Marked Impressions to organize their mixer, as opposed to Project Planning, then she was determined to deliver great service. Any way, any how.
With a deep breath, she grabbed her messenger bag and slung it over her shoulder. She walked the short distance to the entrance in her red stilettos, with her chin raised, ignoring the blaring sun beaming through the thin material of her white, silk blouse. The moment she stepped through the revolving doors her jaw dropped.
The lobby was absolutely beautiful. Every glimpse she caught stole her breath away. Saying that she was impressed was an understatement. The room was so large and grand she could probably fit her entire apartment five times across and five times high. The decor was as sleek and modern as the exterior with marble floors and sky-high ceilings. She admired the sparkling chandelier that hung right above the round fountain pool in the center of the room.
"Ms. Marks?"
Naomi's attention snapped toward the tall woman approaching her with a smile. She had been so entranced at the sight before her that she hadn't noticed when the younger woman emerged from the bank of elevators at the far left of the room. Naomi gave her a returning smile, taking notice that the woman was stunningly beautiful. With her long, dark hair and fair, white skin tanned she looked like a model. Though, her business suit and short heels made her fit in with the professional setting of the firm.
"Yes," Naomi said as she shook the hand that was offered, "I'm Naomi Marks from Marked Impressions."
The woman's hazel eyes lit up as she smiled. "I'm April Weston. My boss asked me to meet you down here to escort you to the conference room. Seeing that you're here early, you can follow me." Naomi nodded as she followed April into an awaiting elevator. As they ascended toward the top floor, her feeling of anxiousness was eased when April further said, "My boss is eager to meet you. He can't wait to get started on organizing the event."
They stepped off the elevator as others rushed in. She took a quick look around, thinking that the floor of offices was much like it's lobby--sophisticated, yet serene. After a moment, Naomi was led into what she assumed was a conference room what with the black, elongated, table in the middle of the room.
"You can have a seat, and I'll just let my boss know you're here," April said as she made sure Naomi was settled in her chair, "In the meantime, would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Water?" Naomi shook her head politely. She had already downed a cup of coffee earlier and anymore would only make her a jittery mess. "No, but thank you."
With a quick nod April, who Naomi was beginning to like, was out the door. She barely had time to admire the beautiful view of the New York City skyline through the massive ceiling-to-floor window when the door swung open, admitting a tall man wearing a charcoal suit and lime-green tie, who was handsome as sin. The moment he met her eyes his face lit up with his brilliant smile. It was a smile that could weaken the knees of any hot-blooded female within miles of him. She could tell he was from a biracial background by his honey colored skin, curly hair, and pale green eyes. All in all, the man was drop dead gorgeous and with his confident stride, he was even sexier. But even with his stunning good looks, Naomi's libido wasn't affected, making her wonder if it was somehow broken, but as she remembered being in the same room with Darryl Thursday night, her libido was definitely alive and well.
Tossing those thoughts aside, she stood from her seat with a smile as she reached out for his hand. "Hello, I'm Naomi Marks of Marked Impressions. It's nice to meet you."
His hand swallowed hers in a firm shake before he motioned her to take her seat. "Warner Eaton," he said as he took the seat across from hers, "I'm the co-founder as well as one of the partners of the firm and it's a pleasure meeting you, too."
"Wait, you're a partner?" Naomi asked, surprised.
Warner chuckled as he leaned back into his chair comfortably. "Yes, I am. One of two and we hope to gain more. Why? Did I surpass your expectations?"
"You certainly did," Naomi replied with a laugh of her own, "To be honest, I expected you to be much older. You're really young."
"Careful, Ms. Marks," Warner said with a teasing smile, "Flattery just might get you anywhere."
"Please, you can call me Naomi," she said, beginning to feel much more at ease. The more she talked with Warner, the more excited she was about planning the mixer. She was grateful that a company with such charming people had hired her services as opposed to her growing competition. Still, she couldn't help but ask, "Why did you agree to use my services instead of one of those big name planning corporations."
She was surprised when he answered, "Actually, it wasn't my idea to hire your company. I brought up the idea of throwing a mixer to my partner and he immediately suggested your company. He says that he has no doubt that you and your team will be able to deliver our every need." He added, "He wanted to be here to meet you, but he's currently meeting with a client. He should be wrapping up things soon."
Although Naomi was flattered, she raised her brows in confusion. How had a partner of a law firm hear about her company? Nonetheless, one who just recently opened his business in the city?
"And what did you say you're partner's name was?"
Just as Warner opened his mouth to answer, the door swung open once again. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw Darryl, dressed in khaki slacks, a white shirt and yellow tie, standing under the door frame. His dark gaze met hers and, as if he was satisfied with her astonishment, his sensuous lips curled into a sly smile.
"Naomi, I'd like you to meet my co-partner, Darryl Adams," Warner announced, though the introductions weren't necessary. She knew all too well who Darryl was.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she growled, recovering from her shock long enough to send him a cold glare. Warner was taken aback by her venom-laced words, but that hadn't even earned her a wince from Darryl. Instead, his arrogant smile widened as he closed the door and strolled in just as elegantly and confidently as his partner had.
Ignoring her, he said, "Sorry I'm late. I had to tie things up with a client, but if you're ready we can start butting heads for ideas."
Oh, she would like to butt his head, alright, she thought as her glare narrowed. She would love to butt it right through the wooden door he came in. The tension in the room grew thicker by the second as they continued to stare each other down--she with a murderous glare and he with an amused glint in his eyes.
Warner cleared his throat uncomfortably as he glanced between them. "I take it that you two know each other." His words came out as more of a statement rather than the question it was supposed to be.
"Naomi and I...," Darryl trailed with a teasing smile, as if laughing at some inside joke, "...are old friends."
She crossed her arms over her chest as she gave an unladylike snort. The two men threw their glance in her direction. She knew she was acting unprofessional, but the last thing she expected was for Darryl to be here--in New York. And as she continued to stare him down with a cold look, she couldn't but think how typical this was of him. As if seeing him Thursday night didn't ruffle her feathers, here he was again with that impish grin of his, as if he had every right to be here in the same room as her.
"Warner, I can take it from here. You go on and meet with that client that was scheduled for ten," Darryl instructed, though his gaze never left hers.
At the corner of her eye, she saw as Warner nodded and silently stood from his seat. He walked briskly towards the door. With one more cautious look between them, he left the room, leaving her alone with Darryl. The silence between them seemed to stretch as they assessed each other.
Although he was the last person she wanted to see, she couldn't complain about the tempting sight before her. The suit he wore when she'd last seen him was nothing compared to what he wore now. With the way his shirt outlined the muscles of his arms and stomach she was having a hard time keeping the scowl on her face as a shallow throbbing began at the base of her stomach.
"Do you like what you see, Naomi?" She had been so entranced by his body that she hadn't noticed when he took the seat that Warner had vacated. Though the table was long, it lacked in width and she practically feel his knees brush against her bare ones. Instantly, she felt a hike in temperature in the room despite the air conditioning.
"You still haven't answered my question," Naomi snapped, recovering herself. "What the hell are you doing here?"
She grew more annoyed with him as he took his time answering her question, making it a show of stretching in his chair before settling back into it and crossing his legs. He was obviously getting his jollies knowing how angry and bothered she was. Just when she thought he wouldn't reply, he said, "I work here."
She pursed her lips in order to keep from saying something she would later regret. Only after drawing in a slow, controlled breath she opened her mouth. "You can't possibly work here, Darryl, if you work and live in Boston."
"It can be possible, sweetheart, if I moved back into the city--which I did," Darryl answered cooly as he leaned in, letting his penetrating eyes pierce where they may.
Panic slowly crept through her. She pulled her eyes away from his and glanced toward the window, unable to face him. She had never counted on Darryl moving back to New York. After all, he had told her that he wouldn't come back because there was nothing he'd left behind that was worth coming back for. The memory sliced at her heart and for a second she had to closed her eyes shut to dispel the hurt she felt each and every time she thought about that day. Not only was his move going to disrupt her life, it would disrupt Dare's life, too.
She glanced back at him to see him openly ogling the shape of her breasts through her shirt, as if they were bare and on display for his eyes only. He looked up when she cleared her throat defiantly as she narrowed her eyes, but instead of cowering, he tongue swept across his bottom lip in a sensuous manner that had her squirm in her seat from the effect it was having on her femininity.
"When did you move back here?"
"About a week and a half ago," he replied in a voice she thought was husky.
She raised her brow. Darryl had been back in New York City for almost two weeks and she knew nothing about it until now? She thought back on all the times she had out with Dare for the past two weeks. How easy it could have been running into Darryl at the park or walking along the street after picking up Dare from school? The thought ran a chill up her spine. She would have to be more careful here on out. "Why didn't you tell me you moved back Thursday night?"
"It didn't come up," he answered with a shrug and a crooked smile. Her eyes blazed over in flames from the anger engulfing her, not liking his insensible answers. What gave him the right to think he could show up, back into her life, without an explanation? She inwardly scoffed as remembered that's how he had backed out of her life--no explanation, no remorse. And now he thought he could mess with her head as if this was some sort of game. All weekend she had given thought to Jazzy's advice, but with the immaturity Darryl was showcasing now, her thoughts weren't leaning in his favor.
Fed up, she forcefully slammed her hands down on the table. She held back a triumphant smile when she finally got a reaction out of him. "I'm not interested in any of your games, Darryl," she declared as she raised her chin in authority. "Why are you back? You told me you wouldn't come back!" She wanted to scream and claw at his face when she saw his mouth twist in another grin.
"We can discuss that later, but for now, since we seem to have gotten off track, let's get back to business."
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"Did you get everything you needed?" Darryl asked Naomi as he set her decaf coffee in front of her on the small, round table. He took his seat on the stool and watched as she glanced up from her digital camera.
"I think so," she said with a short nod, "These shots I took of the lobby should give me everything I need to get an idea of where things will go and how things should be arranged. It was a perfect idea when you suggested using the lobby as your venue."
Darryl smiled, loving the excitement that shined in her eyes whenever she talked about organizing the mixer. "Well, after you kept going on about how beautiful it looked, I thought, why not?" He caught the semblance of her smile before she raised her coffee cup to her soft, red-coated lips. "And you're sure you and your team can plan and setup this event by the Fourth of July?"
She nodded her head. "I'm positive. I know the Fourth of July is five days away, but my team and I have planned bigger things in less time. So, organizing your mixer shouldn't be a problem for us."
Darryl nodded as he took a sip of his own coffee. He had to admit that he was impressed and proud. Marked Impressions was everything as described in it's website. He was surprised to learn how extensive her team was. Not only did she hire event planners but, under contract, her team included interior designers, caterers, and electricians. Earlier, in the conference room, they threw around some ideas and in the end they came up with what he knew would be a fruitful event. When she had asked to take pictures of the lobby to bring back to her team, he happily obliged. Naomi always had a decorative eye. He thought back to their junior year of high school when she was in charge of the prom committee and in the end the results were spectacular.
Now, as they sat at their table in the middle of the cafe on the seond floor of the building, he took a moment to relish how spectacular Naomi looked. Over the past hour, he found it hard not to push all the party planning aside and make his move. And she wasn't making things any easier with her mouth-watering scent and her smooth, bare legs that was showcased underneath a dark pencil skirt that had a dangerous slit on either side. At some points in their meeting, he had zoned out, unable to focus on any other detail besides the woman sitting in front him. Even though he had gotten a good eyeful of Naomi the night of their reunion, seeing her again still had him reeling.
And he was positively sure he had the same effects on her, though she tried to conceal it. It was evident in the way she kept her distance from him, making sure there was more than enough distance between them as they brainstormed and the way she avoided his gaze when she spoke. Time and time again he thought of closing the distance between them, pulling her into his arms before taking her sweet lips hungrily until they were both breathless and aching with need. But as he studied her, he could tell she was still peeved with him about his return to New York.
He glanced over her once more, seeing that she was determined not to look up from her digital camera, though he was sure she had looked through the pictures about twenty times in the past five minutes. But that was about to change.
Setting down his coffee cup, he reached out with a purposeful hand and caught one of the loose silky tendrils of her hair in between his fingers, before pushing it back into place. They moment she looked up at him with startled eyes, a smile touched his lips. Instead of dropping his hand, he let with thumb linger along her temple, slowly trailing it down until it rested at her jaw, all the while letting his fingers run through her hair freely. He savored the warmth of her skin underneath his fingertips--feeling how hot and flushed it felt as his thumb drew closer to her collar bone. He pulled his eyes away from the lazy path he made with his finger to look in her eyes. The look of pure desire and longing he saw there must have reflected the look in his and his already throbbing arousal swelled even more behind his zipper.
He dropped his hand to the table, knowing that if they continued any further he would feel compelled to continue what he started behind the closed door of his office. Though he should have been, he wasn't surprised that Naomi wanted him as much as he wanted her. In the five years of their relationship, there was always a sensually charged air around them, making it damn near impossible to keep their clothes whenever they were alone, and he was glad that after six years of being gone that sensual air never fizzed.
"I forgot to mention that I love what you did with your hair. I think you look beautiful," Darryl said as he continued to watch her.
As if his words sparked something within her, her body, which had been frozen, leaned back into her chair as her eyes narrowed.
"I don't care what you think," she snapped as she crossed her arms, "And I'd like it from now on that you keep your hands to yourself."
Darryl frowned. "Naomi, you may not care what I think but I know for a fact that you would rather I kept my hands on you." He saw as her lips opened to tell him otherwise and he immediately cut in. "I saw that look you got in your eyes when I touched you and it was the same look you had Thursday night when you first arrived."
She stubbornly dragged her eyes away from his again to look at nothing in particular. "Are we done here? Because if we are, I would like to get back to work. If I have any questions I'll have my assistant call you." When he didn't immediately respond she glanced at him and the lust that once burned in her brown eyes was long gone and replaced with bitter disgust.
"Naomi, I don't understand why we can't talk," Darryl said, growing frustrated.
"Oh, so you figure you're done telling me who to and who not to undress for and now you want to talk?" she seethed, her voice taking on an edge. "You moved out of my life and changed your number and now you want to talk? Fine, we'll talk. You moved back to New York, Darryl, why?"
There was a number of reasons he'd returned, but most of them were reasons she wouldn't be willing to hear nor would she understand, so he told her what he figured was the root of all his reasons, "I moved back for you."
He knew his answer had surprised her by the way her eyes widened just a fraction, but just as she had been doing all morning, she schooled her features and recovered her glare. She gave a disproving snort. "You moved back for me?" She shook her head and gave a humorless laugh. "I thought you were a better liar than that."
Now she was pushing his buttons. "I did move back for you," he said, leaning in as he looked her squarely in the eye, "I moved back because I realized I made a mistake in leaving you. You have to know, Naomi, that you meant everything to me. You still do." He felt his heart flinch in pain at the obvious disgust in her face. His voice softened as he added, "Naomi, I thought about you everyday for the past six and a half years." He reached for her hand but she whipped it onto her lap before he could take her hand in his.
"I call bullshit," she said, her raised voice earning them a few curious looks. He saw the tears rimmed along her eye beds and he began hating himself. He knew he had taken the risk of hurting Naomi when he'd decided that he had to leave her, and knowing what it would do to her--what it would do to him--he just couldn't muster enough courage to tell her in person. And the pain and bitterness spelled out on her face was what he wanted to avoid in the first place. She lowered her voice as she continued, "If I really did mean something to you why would you leave me the way you did? You have no idea how much you hurt me, do you?" Actually, he did. He had felt hurt, pain and anger everyday he spent away from her. "I was hurt and humiliated. Even my family was hoodwinked."
There was a pause as she continued to stare at him with tear-glassed eyes. Though her features softened, her words were hoarse and choked, "Why did you leave me, Darryl? After five years, why did you decide then to leave me?" Seeing her this way wasn't in his plan to win her back. For the first time, he had to look away from the pain-stricken eyes that stared him down accusingly. Instead he stared down at his hands as he remembered his reason why.
Months after his father's death, he'd started having nightmares. They all were the same and they always took place in a graveyard on a murky, foggy day. He would see his mother in her coffin, lying cold and dead, as his father stood weakly beside him, holding his hand as he sobbed uncontrollably. Everyone who stood around the burial site was sobbing and crying...except himself. All he could do was stare at his lifeless mother, feeling empty and emotionless. As her body slowly lowered into the ground, the sobs got louder and the grip of his father's hand loosened. They stood at the edge of the pit, looking down as she disappeared into the darkness of the earth and without warning, his dad jumped in after her. He tried to grab his father's hand--any part of him that he could grasp--to save him, but just as he reached out his hand, the earth closed up before him, as if the pit that was dug up never existed. He looked around, desperate for help from the other mourners, but with a quick glance he noticed they were all gone as if they'd vanished into thin air. And that's when the tears rolled. The pain had increased tenfold, leaving him bare, abandoned and scared. Then he'd wake up.
The first couple of months, though he had shared his nightmares with Naomi, he thought nothing of the dreams since he believed it was all part of the grieving process. But as time went on, and when the months turned into years, he would start having the dreams frequently--almost every night. For the most part they remained the same, but one night--the night of his and Naomi's five-year anniversary--when he dreamt, it wasn't his mother's body he was staring at. It was Naomi's. The dream terrified him to the extent that he would awaken in a cold sweat, with tears running down his face. Some nights he'd wake up screaming. Those dreams, he never told her about. After that, he started to withdraw from her, but that hadn't been enough to stop the dreams. So, he did what he thought was best. He left.
"Darryl?"
Her choked voice brought him back to the present and reluctantly he raised his eyes to meet hers again, waiting for an answer. How was he supposed to explain to that he was a coward when it came to her? How could he explain that, despite his father's warning left in his suicide note, he had fallen so hard for her and he wasn't ready to lose her like he lost his parents?
He took in a labored breath, knowing that he couldn't explain those things. At least not now. Not if was going to risk his chances of rebuilding the life they would have left if he hadn't been so scared out of his mind. "I know you want answers, but I can't give them to you," he answered disheartedly.
The rage staring back at him sliced his heart. She quickly reached for her bag that was resting on the floor by her feet before she bounded from her chair in a haste. "You know what, Darryl?" she said dryly as she hiked her messenger bag onto her shoulder, "Keep your damn answers. I don't know why I'm wasting my time. God knows I've already wasted five years of my life with you."
He tried not to conceal how her remark had affected him, but he couldn't help the wounded look in his eyes and the desperate tone in his voice. "Naomi, I know you're upset but, at the time, I thought leaving was the best solution."
"Solution to what?!" she barked.
Another question he couldn't answer. "Naomi, sweetheart, you have to trust me when I tell you I never meant to hurt you. I love--"
With a raised hand, she effectively cut him off as her glare silenced him. "Save it, Darryl. You can take your love and shove it. I may be working for you for the next four days, but after that I never want to see you again. I'm afraid you moved back to New York for nothing."
Before he could utter a single word, she brushed past him and stormed off toward the door. He knew he should run after her, convince her that the reasons why he'd left weren't as important as the reasons he'd come back, but he knew she needed her space. He watched her through the glass doors of the entrance as she boarded a crowded elevator, feeling a complete loss as the doors slid shut and carried the woman he loved farther and farther away from him.
The buzzing of his phone in his pocket drew his attention. Fishing it out and seeing that it was a text from Warner wondering where the hell he was, he knew he had to head back to his office. Grabbing their trash and discarding it into the trash, he started for the elevator. He knew without a doubt there would be a number of questions awaiting him once he got back, but he was in no mood to rehash the details of the heated discussion between him and Naomi to his inquisitive partner. Although Darryl trusted the mixer would go on without a hitch, he knew that there was a surmountable hitch in his relationship with Naomi.