“But, Mr. Bradshaw,” Mr. Dierdrick spluttered. “There’s still so much to go over.”

 “Henry,” Jon interrupted. He started for the door, fastening the button on his suit jacket and smoothing his tie down his chest. “Send the report to Ms. Montgomery. She’ll be sure it makes it onto my desk.” With his hand on the doorknob, he motioned a quick farewell to the other men in attendance and breezed out the door, relieved to have escaped the confines of the stuffy boardroom.

 Once outside again, he breathed a lungful of fresh air as he cut across the parking lot and climbed into his brand new F-150. Some might call him spoiled or a snob because he could just go out and select a new car at a moment’s notice, but he had the money. It really didn’t make any sense to drive a rental while he waited for the insurance estimate to come in when he could just buy another. Being wealthy had its perks.

 It was mid-afternoon, which left the day open for possibilities. Going straight home, Jon changed out of his work clothes and got in a quick shower. As he shaved his face clean of scruff, he thought over what his next move would be with the sensational vixen he’d had the good fortune of plowing into the previous morning. Would she be thinking of him still? Was she anticipating his call?

 After shaving, Jon pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and went in search of food. He didn’t keep much in the fridge besides the basics: beer, milk, juice, lunchmeat and the occasional piece of fruit. Most of the time, Jon ate out, pun intended. He smirked at his own little joke and laid out the container of sliced turkey and a loaf of bread. While he assembled his sandwich, the phone rang.

 “How’s my little dumpling?”

 “How many times do I have to say this, Mother? I am in no way little.” Jon’s grin spread ear to ear, secretly pleased with his mother’s constant doting. 

“You’ll always be my little boy, Jonathon,” she said.

 “I know, Mom.” Jon slathered what would be considered a little too much mustard for most people’s taste on the bread, and slapped everything together. “So how are you and Dad?”

 “Getting a little older every day, but there’s breath left in us yet,” she said cheerfully. “How are you doing? Is work going alright?”

 Jon bit into his sandwich. “It’s fine,” he said around a mouthful of food. “Jenna’s quitting on me.”

 “Is that the quiet one with the glasses?”

 “That’s her.”

 “What a shame. Did she say why she was leaving?”

 Jon sighed heavily. “She’s getting married and her fiancé seems to think it’s the wife’s duty to stay home and mind the children.”

 “And this upsets you I take it?” his mother questioned.

 “Hell yeah it does,” Jon said. “She’s worked hard to get where she’s at and she’s just throwing it all away for some simple-minded jack-off! Now she’s leaving and I’m out an accountant.” Jon’s hands shook with his indignation. He set his sandwich down on the counter.

 “You’ll find another one,” his mom reassured him.

 “She was the best,” he argued.

 His mother laughed. “Stubborn, just like your father.” She paused and Jon braced himself for a shift in conversation. “Speaking of your father. The annual block sale is coming up at the end of the month and he wants to unload a few pieces of old furniture and, well, you know how he is. He doesn’t want to ask for help.”

 “Dad’s not supposed to be moving anything heavy,” Jon agreed, thinking back to the time when his father threw his back out while trying to unload a dishwasher he’d bought for Mother’s Day from his truck bed, alone. Doc Bradley, their family physician, had laid down the law and proclaimed his father officially over-the-hill. He let him know that under no uncertain terms was he allowed to move heavy objects without assistance from there on out.

 “From your mouth to God’s ears,” his mother prayed. “But you know how he is when he gets an idea into his head.”

 Jon nodded. He could see where this was heading from a mile away. “Just let me know when and I’ll make sure I’m there to help out.”

 “You’re such a good son,” his mother praised. “One day you’ll make some woman very happy.”

 Jon’s eyes narrowed and he felt the darkness creeping in around his thoughts. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that would never happen. Happiness wasn’t in the cards for him, and even if it was, he sure as hell didn’t deserve it. “Sure, Mom. When do you need me?” he asked, desperate for redirection.

 “Not next Saturday but the one after that, say seven-ish?”

 “Seven-ish it is.” As much as he loved talking to his mom, Jon needed to get off the phone. He couldn’t risk the conversation heading down the path he knew it would if he kept her on the line any longer. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

 Disappointment laced her tone, but she didn’t voice any complaints. “Okay, my little dumpling,” she said.

 “I can hear you smiling,” Jon said with a smile of his own.

 “Smiling? Me? Never.”

 Still smiling. “Love you.”

 “Love you too, Son. See you in a couple weeks.”

 Jon hung up the phone and polished off the rest of his sandwich. It tasted like saw dust, but just the simple act of eating took some of the edge off. The trick was to focus on other things, and he was a master of avoidance.

 Staring at the phone still clutched in his hand, Jon debated on whether he should call Patricia. As much as he would have liked to call her that instant and set to work sealing the deal, he quite enjoyed the thrill of the chase. Far too much, in fact, to just steamroll into it. He was a man who liked to tease a woman’s senses, make her crave him as much as he craved her, until the sex between them was guaranteed to be nothing short of explosive.

 Okay, sure, he had asked her to dinner, which could have been misconstrued to sound like he meant sooner rather than later, but in all actuality, he hadn’t specified when he wanted to take her out, just that he did. Would she be mad when he didn’t call? Most definitely. Did he care? Not a lick. Just like a frightened kitten with its sharp teeth and claws, with a little bowl of milk and the right words spoken in a soft, soothing voice, she’d eventually let her guard down, and then he’d be free to stroke her all he wanted.

 Tonight, Jon planned to take it easy and let his dinner plans simmer on the back burner for a bit. Slipping into a nice, form-fitting black cotton T-shirt and dark wash jeans, Jon dialed up Travis and grabbed his keys as he headed out the door.

 “You got the booze?” Travis said by way of answering.

“That depends, you got the ladies?”

 “In the bag, baby.”

 “Then I’ll see you in ten.”

6

Annoyed. Aggravated. Attitudinal. Patti was all of those things as she strutted into the sandwich shop Tuesday afternoon and made her way to the back where she and Lynn agreed to meet for their weekly lunch date. She wore her emotions on her sleeve as she dropped into the last available chair. “Talk about a week from hell,” she groused, slamming her purse down on the table.

 Lynn looked up from her phone and arched an eyebrow. “I smell gossip,” she said, setting her phone aside. “Spill.”

 Patti took a moment to collect her thoughts and to order a small sub before venturing down that treacherous path of depression and disillusionment. “So, I start with catching Kyle in bed with a hooker—”

 “Oh, my God! A hooker?” Lynn screeched. If Patti could have seen her own face in a mirror that day, she imagined it would have looked something like Lynn’s now. Her jaw dropped in shock, her eyes wide in stunned disbelief.  Lynn reached out to cover Patti’s hand. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. Did you kick him in the balls? Tell me you kicked him in the balls.”

 “I wish,” Patty said with regret. “I did throw the bitch’s spike heels at the back of his head, though.”

 “Did you make contact?”

 Patti grinned. “Did I ever.”

 “That’s my girl.” Lynn patted her hand and drew back to her side of the table to resume eating. “So a hooker, huh?”

 Patti’s shoulders lifted and fell. “I don’t think she was actually a hooker. I mean, I don’t think Kyle would ever have to stoop that low in order to find someone willing to spread their legs, you know?” In fact, Kyle was pretty damn handsome. He was tall with an athletic build. His dirty blond hair was wavy and he kept it at the perfect length to entice a woman to run her fingers through it. And his smile was killer. It’s what drew her to him in the first place. He used all the clichéd, cheesy pick-up lines that men and women both laugh over, but he delivered them with a knowing smile, and that made him just plain cute in her eyes.

 A man who could make a woman laugh was something to be treasured. But it was all blown to shit when he proved to be like all the rest of the men she’d ever dated. Now, all she could see was the troll living inside of him, using women without regard to their feelings.

 “You can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig,” Lynn said.

 “I know.” Patti sighed. She picked at the wrapper surrounding her sub. She’d lost her appetite.

 “Sweetie, I think we both knew going into this thing that Kyle was never going to be the man you would marry. It was fun while it lasted, but, hey, it’s over now and good riddance. The man was not good enough for you.”

 “Thanks.” Patti’s lips curled up in a soft, shy smile.

 “You’re welcome. Now eat. I will not have that jerk making my friend anorexic.”

 Patti did as she was told. They ate in companionable silence, and when they finished, Patti decided to steal a few more minutes with her friend, so she walked with Lynn back to her office. She used the time to tell her about losing her job and about Jon.