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Immediately pouring them both some wine, Elle examined Sara’s face asking, “What’s wrong?”
“So, I think I’ve got a problem. Things kind of escalated with Deacon.”
“Escalated how? Like pants-off escalated?”
“No, but very nearly…and in the JDC kitchen. I literally have no self-control where he’s concerned.”
After Sara had recounted the entire series of events from Little Tokyo to tonight, she ran out of steam and just stared into space.
Elle just sat on the couch, somewhat dumbfounded, then finally said, “I don’t really see the problem. Sounds like he’s taking a personal interest in you outside of your vajayjay. You’re a fabulous girl. It’s not surprising that he might. Clearly this is an issue for you though.”
Frowning, Sara said, “I don’t know why, though. I’m not unwilling to explore the idea of something meaningful. I’d just prefer not to. I figured it would happen at some point but I’m not sure I’m ready. Why can’t he just be a jerk? I’d have some hope of resisting him if that were the case. He wants more and it terrifies me. For the first time, I feel like I’d regret saying no.”
Sighing, Elle said, “What the hell do you mean, you don’t know why? We totally covered that. You’re a great girl. Perhaps he’s smarter than he used to be and sees a good thing. Seems simple to me. Look. I know you’re not used to nice and you don’t want to fall in love with the guy. Just open yourself to the possibilities.”
Nodding, Sara said, “You’re right. I’m making this bigger than it is. We’ll date and see where it goes. I can always end it if things get too heavy, right?”
Elle smirked and said, “Yep. Always happy to talk you off the ledge.”
Perking up, Elle said, “Oh. In other news, Marc came to get his shit the other day and asked about the table. I told him I gave it away. He was livid.”
“Wish I had seen that smug prick’s face when you told him. Hell, I was hoping to run into him when he came back to get his things. I’m just all excited because I don’t have to be nice to him anymore.”
Laughing, Elle said, “I think he may have been specifically avoiding you. I think he’s kind of afraid of you. Can’t say I blame him, either.” Sara finished the remainder of her wine and said, “Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for letting me ramble. We’ve got a date this Friday, so I may be calling you Thursday to help me pick an outfit. I feel kind of like a teenage girl.”
Elle giggled, then said, “Hmm. Did he give you any hint yet as to what you’re doing?”
Frowning, Sara said, “No. Not really. I’ll pump him for details tomorrow.”
By noon Wednesday, the brisket was in the warmer, the beans were ready to go, and she was moving the coleslaw and garlic toast onto the serving cart. Adding the peach pie and the apple pie that had recently come out the oven to the next shelf of the cart, she took stock. Remembering what she’d left off, she walked to the freezer and grabbed the tub of handmade vanilla ice cream. Placing it on the cart, she rolled the cart toward the kitchen doors.
As she left the kitchen and headed to the service elevator, Deacon rounded the corner, his face breaking into a smile.
“Just the woman I wanted to see. Is that everything? Did you need help?”
Sara shook her head. “This is all of it. Bret already left. This job was much smaller this time so it was easier to handle myself. Just headed up now. There’s already water, soda, tea, and coffee up there, right?”
“Yep. We’ve got the beverages up there from this morning already. C’mon, I’ll go up with you.”
Once they were in the elevator, Deacon said, staring at her lips, “This no contact at work thing is a killer.”
Nodding, Sara said, “Tougher than I thought it was gonna be. There’s something about you that just drives me crazy.”
The elevator doors slid open with a ding.
Deacon stared at her for a moment, then grinned and said, “More on that later, please.”
Laughing, Sara followed him off the elevator.
Walking toward the conference room, some of the sexual tension dissipated. By the time she walked through the doors, she was able to function like a reasonable human being again. Setting up the meal, the dishes, the cutlery, and new drink glasses, she gave the table a once-over.
Deacon sniffed the air appreciatively and said, “I’ve got a good feeling about this meal.”
Pulling the ice cream from the bottom of the cart and nestling it in a tub of ice, Sara said, “Oh?”
Making a slight whimper, he asked, “Is that homemade?” gesturing to the ice cream.
Nodding, Sara said, “Of course.”
