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I strodeout to my sleek black BMW glinting in the afternoon light, clicking a button as I went. The engine came to life with a satisfying roar. Meg's sweet, musky scent clung to me, driving me mad.
It hadn’t changed one bit.
That and her negotiation skills caught me off guard. I underestimated her, and now found myself reluctantly impressed by how she had seized control of the situation and skewered me with her rates.
She didn’t even flinch.
Settling into the luxurious leather seat, I frowned, irritated at myself for not staying more composed in her presence. We hadn’t seen each other in nearly two decades, barely spoke for ten minutes, yet still Meg managed to get under my skin in a way no one else ever could.
I glanced at the silly plastic Santa figurine waving cheerily at me from the dashboard. It matched the one I still carried on my keychain. They were relics left behind by my kids, who always insisted on festively decorating, well, everything. Their playful antics used to poke fun at what a yuletide grouch I could be. Though I’d never admit it, the car felt empty and quiet now without their joking and laughter every holiday season.
Seeing Meg after all these years made me acutely aware of how much I’d changed. How my personality hardened from the pressures of single parenthood and empire building, into someone more cynical and closed-off. Yet here I was, years later, still riding around with that goofy grinning Santa.
I hit the button to power the windows down and catch a cool breeze, and heard Meg's voice floating out from an open studio window. She seemed to be on a phone call with a friend, laughing about something. My eyebrows shot up as she launched into an amusing but unflattering impersonation of someone. My lips twisted in a slight smile as I wondered if it was me.
When I discovered she was back in town and opened her own studio, she seemed like the perfect solution to my problem. After all, we hadn’t seen each other in forever. Surely we’d both grown up enough to work together and grown out of any romantic illusions we might’ve once held for each other.
Ha. Joke was on me.
Our verbal sparring transported me right back to high school, when her sassy mouth both exasperated and thrilled me. She saw right through my self-assured facade to the unsettled boy within, just like she did today. And she’d never had any problem poking fun at me.
My mind flashed briefly to memories of her strutting down the hallways in ripped jeans and band tees, not caring if the teachers scolded her. That deliciously decadent essential oil she always wore I could pick out with my eyes closed.
Still wore,I amended.
Passing silly notes just to make her laugh that distinctive belly laugh that mademelaugh. Freshman year when she beat me in basketball, during a heated one-on-one at Seashell Cove’s local court. She might have been artsy, but the girl had game, I’d give her that.
Most vivid was the memory of Seashell Cove High’s homecoming dance, where we ditched our bored and drunk friends, snuck under the bleachers together to make out, and laughed our asses off as cheesy music floated on the warm night air. Air that smelled like ocean… and kisses that tasted like spiked punch. I heaved a sigh, shoving the memories of the old me aside.
I wasn’t that guy anymore.
Maybe having Meg photograph West Bay Ventures’s important Christmas event wasn't the most prudent idea. She stirred up a lot of memories I wasn’t sure I welcomed. Along with bringing out some of my more juvenile impulses.
I realized my hands were clenched tightly on the wheel, my shoulders rigid with tension. Just a short interaction with my old flame knocked my usual cool and collected demeanor totally off-kilter. Seeing such a worldly-looking woman in the place of the wild-haired girl I remembered rattled me. Her confidence and unexpected sophistication made me feel surprisingly... inadequate.
Just keep it professional, West.
Moving forward, no matter how much she pushed my buttons or tried getting a rise out of me, I’d stay composed and focused on the gala. Though hiring her might be risky, deep down a knot of anticipation twisted in my gut over spending more time together. Meg was entirely unlike anyone else in my orbit.
She always had been.
Maddening, but also exciting in a way I’d forgotten. She played by her own rules and she never let anyone make her feel small. If I were honest, her defiant attitude challenged me.
Keeping things strictly business between us would require extreme restraint on my part, I already knew it. Even a minor loss of control like I displayed a few minutes ago, getting close to her like that, just wasn’t acceptable. The memory of her scent accosted me again, sparking a wave of nostalgia. Still… maybe letting Meg's bold personality shake up my world a bit could be a good thing.
Damn, I needed a distraction.
Punching the screen mounted in the dash, I waited as speed dial connected to my friend and business partner, Axel. As soon as he picked up, I let loose the whole story. I only felt marginally better once I got it off my chest, and his chuckling response didn’t help.
If anything, it irked me.
"So, the infamous Meg from your bygone days walks back into your life, only to get your boxers all in a twist, eh?" Axel teased.
"Cut it out, man. It's just... complicated," I grumbled.
"Ooh, lusty high school romance, years of secret longing, now forced to work together. I smell a Hallmark movie in the making!" he crowed. I could hear him slapping his leg in the background like an idiot.
I rolled my eyes while stopped at a light, waiting for him to finish cackling. "You done?"
