Secret Surrender (Forever 2)

“You were on his private island. If you stayed inside and did missionary before bed, I’m going to smack you.”

More heat rose to my cheeks as I thought about how far from reality Riley’s insinuation was. I knew she was trying to get a rise out of me. She knew being so blunt about sex would throw me off balance. “We didn’t stay inside all day, I’ll say that. But that’s all I’ll say.”

Riley jutted her lip, pouting. “Can’t you throw a girl a bone?”

She was doing a good job of looking pathetic, but I held strong. “Sorry. I just don’t like to talk about that stuff. You know that.”

She sighed, shoulders slumped. Sitting in her sorority outfit with her blonde hair in her face on a kitchen stool, she looked almost comical. “Fine.” she said after a moment. “But things are going well, all in all?”

I took a deep breath of my own. “Yeah. The thing with Ariel was scary, but the scariest part was realizing how much he’s beginning to mean to me.”

“Sounds like you’re getting serious pretty quickly.”

“I guess so,” I said, surprising myself with the note of sadness in my tone.

“Is he feeling the same way?”

Was he? He had told me he was crazy about me, and being in a picture in his cabin was a nice gesture, but I just had a hard time completely trusting him. He was gone so much in so many different places, and I knew the effect he had on women. On the other hand, he really hadn’t given me any reason not to trust him. Maybe it was something that would just take some time.

“He did say he was crazy about me,” I said. “I don’t know how much more he can do to make me know how he feels.”

“The island trips are also nice. Have you thought about dropping the L-word yet?”

Panic shot through my system. Had I already fallen in love with Vincent, after years of being uninterested in men? “No. That seems pretty sudden, doesn’t it? It hasn’t been that long.”

Riley got up and grabbed a glass of water. “It is what it is,” she said. She took a sip. “No need to rush it. I was just asking. Anyway, I should probably get to bed. See you tomorrow.”

I wished her good night and took the seat she had been occupying moments earlier. Did I love Vincent? Things had been moving so quickly I hadn’t even paused to consider my feelings. Time was passing, though. Whether I liked it or not, my relationship with Vincent couldn’t stay at the same place indefinitely.

***

When Vincent and I had landed at JFK yesterday, he’d told me he had to do a quick turnaround before he traveled back down to Brazil. He would be back as soon as he could, and would be sure to let me know. Even flying by charter as he did, I couldn’t understand how he could keep up his schedule. It sounded exhausting spending so much time in so many different places.

Monday morning found me in a very familiar place: in front of my work computer. Though the office was something I was still getting used to. I spent the morning sorting my inbox and reading through the long list of office memos waiting there. While I wanted to get to work on the more interesting task of creating Vincent’s investment plan, if I didn’t get through these emails now they would just build up and become unmanageable. It was an important part of my job to make sure I didn’t miss any communications that could be vital.

My diligence paid off when I saw an email from Carl sent ten minutes before I arrived in the office. The message said to meet him in his office at ten. He had an interesting opportunity on a potential client that he wanted to discuss. I set an alert on my calendar for the meeting and hurried through the rest of my messages.

The meeting was upon me before I could get started on the work for Vincent. I grabbed a notepad and hurried across the floor to Carl’s office. This time, his door was open, though he was on the phone.

He waved me in, and I stepped inside, waiting just in front of the door. “Ted, I’ve got a meeting. We’re going to have to continue this at lunch. Yep, got it, 12:30. Usual spot. See you then.”

He hung up and turned to me. “Kristen, thanks for dropping by. Shut the door and take a seat.”

I did so. Carl shuffled through some papers until he found the file he wanted. While he wasn’t a luddite, he had more of a preference for dealing in paper than most of the people at the firm. It was why I was taking notes on a notepad rather than my laptop. Paying attention to little details like that was important at Waterbridge-Howser.

He clapped his hands together and rubbed them together, staring me over his glasses. “First off: Sorenson. I haven’t heard anything bad, which from my perspective means things are good. Am I right?”

I nodded. “Things are going great. Lining up the last bits of the strategy and I’ll be ready to present soon.”

“Great. That’s a tough client, so stay on your toes, but so far it sounds like you’re doing the business. Good work.”

“Thank you.” I smiled. Carl understood that part of being a good boss was making sure people felt appreciated when they were doing their job well. Every little bit helped.

“You deserve it. As always, let me know if I can do anything. Anyway, I brought you here because I have an interesting prospect I think you would be perfect for. Do you think you can fit another pitch into your schedule?”

Working on another new client pitch would mean many days of very long hours on top of what I was already doing for Vincent. However, as the pitch with Vincent had shown, working on new business was the best way to get bonuses and promotions. I had just received a promotion, so this probably wouldn’t mean another one, but it would be another drop in the bucket for my next move. With Vincent gone as much as he was, it wasn’t like I had anything pressing going on in my personal life. As I thought about it, the distraction would be welcome.

“Of course,” I answered.

“Great. You’re going to have an analyst working with you on this one, which should ease the burden timewise a bit. The prospect is a woman who has leveraged her fame as a fitness model by selling home fitness equipment.”

Did he say fitness model? My chest tightened. However unlikely it was, I had to be sure. “Is the prospect Ariel Diamond?”

Carl frowned and looked at the file. “No. Her name is Selena Richards. Who is Ariel Diamond?”

Relief swept through my body from my chest outwards. I thought of a suitable lie to tell about Ariel. “A professional surfer I learned about while doing research for the Sorenson account,” I said. That was mostly true, depending on your definition of research. “She does some fitness modeling too. Sorry for interrupting.”