I'm pulled out of my thoughts when my desk phone chimes. Connecting the call, I hear the front receptionist say in a low, murmured tone, "Mr. Brannon...you have someone here to see you. She doesn't have an appointment but seems confident you'll see her."
"Who is it?" I ask.
"She said her name is Georgia Mack," she responds.
Instantly, my entire body tightens at the thought of that woman just mere feet away in the executive lobby. My pulse simultaneously fires along with a rush of adrenaline spiking through my system. To say I've thought about Georgia a time or two since our meeting almost two weeks ago is an understatement.
Leaning toward the speaker on the phone, I say, "Thank you, Claudia. You can show her back."
Standing from my desk, I fasten the three buttons on my suit jacket and straighten my tie, although I have to restrain myself from running my hands over my hair in a desire to make sure it's neat and presentable. But then I reconsider, because I'm getting ready to present a very buttoned-up, professional image to a woman who is wild, carefree, and seemingly not fond of this image I'm trying to project.
Shit.
I quickly unbutton my jacket, pull it off, and toss it over the back of my chair. Just as quickly, I unbutton my sleeve cuffs, thankful I didn't bother with links today, and hastily roll them halfway up my forearms. My hand just gets my tie pulled away from my throat and loosened a bit when Claudia knocks on the door.
Jesus Christ, I'm a mess.
"Come in," I say, hoping my voice doesn't sound as nervous as I feel.
The door swings open and Claudia motions Georgia in, and I have to struggle to let my breath out in a controlled release. She looks amazing and I give in to admitting that I'm wildly attracted to her. I'm still put off by her brash manner, but there is no denying I like what I see before me.
Her golden hair is long and a riot of curls that hang over her shoulders and down her back. She's wearing black jeans that look painted onto her body and tucked into black high-heeled boots that come up to her knees. I can't see what kind of top she has on because she's wearing a cranberry-colored leather jacket that sits above her waist but is zipped up to the bottom of her throat. She's adorned with rings on all her fingers, and numerous bangles on both wrists. Georgia Mack is an untamed beauty with an equally wicked aura about her, and at this moment all I can think is that she's the complete opposite of me, and yet I'm drawn to her for some stupid reason.
Her brown eyes--which two weeks ago I'd classified as warm--now stare at me shrewdly from across the expanse of my office as she says with that southern twang of hers, "I've got a bone to pick with you, mister."
My body jerks in surprise and my eyes cut swiftly to my receptionist, who is now staring at Georgia with her mouth hanging open.
"That will be all, Claudia," I tell her, and her eyes snap to me. "Thank you."
She bobs her head, doesn't give another look to Georgia, and backs out of my office, closing the door softly behind her.
Because I'm feeling out of sorts because of this unusual attraction I have to this annoying woman, and because she's clearly here to "pick a bone" with me, I manage to straighten my shoulders and wave my hand at one of my desk chairs.
"By all means," I tell her smoothly, establishing firm control of this meeting...well, whatever this is. "Have a seat."
She narrows her eyes and stalks toward me, bypassing my guest chairs and coming right to the edge of my desk, where she slams her palms against it, the bangles on her wrist chiming merrily in opposition to her clear anger. "I want to know what in the hell is going on with Lexi, and we're going out to lunch to talk about it."
Immediate concern for my daughter overwhelms me. "What's wrong with Lexi?"
"Well, we're going to lunch to talk about it," she says adamantly.
"We're going to lunch?" I ask stupidly, thrown completely off-kilter.
"We're going to lunch," she affirms. "I'm killing two birds with one stone. We need to talk about Lexi and I'm tired of waiting for you to ask me out. You move at the speed of molasses and I'm not getting any younger."
My head actually goes dizzy trying to keep up with her. She's clearly pissed at me, feels I've done something to affront her, and yet she wants to go out with me? What little bit of control I thought I might have had with this woman seems to be slipping quickly from my grasp, and to save my male ego from taking too much more of a beating, I calmly say, "I don't have time to go to lunch, but if you'll sit down, I'm sure we can rationally and calmly discuss what has you worried about Lexi."
Those brown eyes flash with something I'd label as indignation before hardening into resolve. I think that perhaps for a brief moment she'll listen to reason and take my suggestion.
Instead, she merely pushes up from her leaning position over my desk and says, "No, thank you. I'm not interested in that."
And to my utter surprise, she shocks me stupid by turning around and flouncing toward my office door. I watch her retreating form, my eyes dropping to her ass that is molded nicely in those jeans, stunned she's leaving.
Worried she's leaving because she's clearly concerned about my daughter, as am I.
Disappointed she's leaving because as much as I'm loath to admit, I've felt more alive these last few minutes with her trampling all over my carefully ordered world than I have in, well, forever.
"Wait," I blurt out as I come around my desk and start walking toward her.
Thankfully, she pauses with her hand on the doorknob and flips her long, curly hair from over her shoulder to her back as her head snaps my way. "What?"
"Do you like Mediterranean food?" I ask as I put my hand into my pocket and grab my car keys.
"Does moonshine put hair on your chest?" she shoots back at me, her southern drawl peaking to its most acute sound yet.
"I'm going to have to assume so," I say carefully, not having ever had moonshine.
She nods in agreement, turns the knob, and opens my office door. "Then assume I like Mediterranean food."
With that she walks out before me and stalks down the hall, and I can't tell if she's still angry at me or not, but I do enjoy the view of her ass in those jeans as I follow her out to the lobby.
--
"So how about telling me what's got you worried about Lexi?" I ask Georgia as I watch her cut up her lamb kabobs. She had informed me when we placed our orders that she normally likes to eat tabbouleh, but she didn't want to risk getting parsley in her teeth on our first date.
I didn't even know how to respond to that, so I'd ordered lamb as well.
Georgia puts a small piece of lamb into her mouth, and I try not to focus on her lips as she chews it daintily while she stares at me thoughtfully. When she swallows, she stabs her fork in the air at me and says, "You tell me. Since she went to that game with you and Gray last week, something's absolutely wrong with her."
"I know," I admit with a heavy sigh, dipping a piece of pita into my hummus. "I've noticed it too. She's been avoiding me this past week."
"Well, what in the hell happened at the game?" Georgia demands.
"Nothing," I say with a shrug. "Not anything that was obvious, at any rate."
"All I know is that she's sullen and crabby as hell with me, and if you know Lexi, which I know you don't yet as well as I do, that is absolutely not like her. That child is the most effervescent, easygoing, and adaptable person I know. She's been handling all of this with you and Gray with incredible maturity and optimism. And now she seems to be defeated, and all I know is you were last in her presence when this happened."
"She was reserved at the game," I say as I remember that night. I'd expected her to be jumping up and down in her seat, but she had no enthusiasm. "Not like when I saw her down near the family lounge before..."
My words trail off.
Lexi was fine then. When Gray and I saw her standing in the hallway, both pleased and surprised at the same time to see her there, she was genuinely happy to see us both. She accepted my hug easily
. It was all good, until a singular moment of some awkwardness when she admitted to us that she was there by invitation of Roman.
I was surprised, of course, as I didn't realize she knew him, but really didn't think much of it. I was just happy to see her there.
But Gray had questioned her about Roman with a little more diligence, and was probably still doing so when I left for the locker room to wish the team good luck.
Had something happened then between Gray and Lexi?
I can't imagine what it could be, because they were talking it up in the owner's box as we watched the game. While Lexi was definitely a bit reserved as she watched the game, she wasn't completely mute. She sat between Gray and me and talked with both of us. I didn't sense anything bad between them at all, but still...something had to have happened between the time I saw her in the hallway and when the game started, because that's when the change was noticeable.
"I need to see Lexi," I say abruptly to Georgia.
"Of course you do," she says with wink. "She's at the coffee shop and she'll be there all afternoon. I knew you'd jump into dad mode."
"You did?" I ask, momentarily distracted from my worry by my curiosity.
"You're a great dad," Georgia observes. "I watched you that night at The Grind, watching Lexi. I've seen how you've accepted her at face value and with open arms. I've seen--through the media, of course--that you've already raised an amazing daughter. So yeah...I knew you'd jump right on figuring this out."
Georgia smiles knowingly at me and turns her gaze back to her plate, cutting off another piece of lamb to put into her mouth. With no other way in this moment to solve my daughter's problems, I contemplate this curious woman before me. Clearly she has my attention, but I can't figure out if I should explore something or turn tail to run.
"What's your story, Georgia?" I ask casually.
She lifts her eyes to mine as she chews, then swallows, a wide smile gracing what I'm thinking is a near perfect mouth. "It's about time you got around to showing interest in me."
I ignore her rebuke, starting to figure out she likes to try to work her way under my skin. Well, she's firmly embedded there now, so I don't take the bait, instead just cocking an eyebrow at her. "Well?"
Georgia dabs at her lips, which amazingly still have a perfect sheen of lipstick on them, and pushes her plate a few inches away so she can rest her forearms on the table. "Well...let's see. I'm from Savannah, Georgia, originally. Came to Raleigh for my undergrad and decided to make it my permanent home."
"What did you study?" I ask her.
"Nuclear engineering."
Because this woman has point-blank told me some whopper stories before, I can't help but say, "You're kidding."
"I'm not," she says firmly. "I'm really smart."
"Then how did you go from nuclear engineering to owning a coffeehouse?" I ask incredulously.
She shrugs. "It just wasn't for me. Engineering, that is. I worked for a defense contractor in DC for several years after I graduated, and I hated it. The work was interesting, but I just didn't feel fulfilled. I went to work every day and sat beside a lot of other really brilliant people as we developed and enhanced nuclear technology, and I came home every night just completely exhausted in my soul. It took me awhile to get up the courage to make a break from such a steady career, but I've never looked back since, and I don't have a single regret."
Now that's goddamned impressive.
"Lexi said you have a son," I say to keep the conversation going, now more fascinated than ever by this woman.
Georgia's eyes sparkle and she leans in a little. "Asking about me, huh? I'm flattered."
I don't disabuse her of that, because although I didn't specifically ask Lexi about her, I do like the fact I've apparently flattered her. So I merely give her a sly smile that she can take how she wants and push at her, "Lexi says he lives out west."
Georgia sighs dramatically and waves her hand at me. "I love him to death, but he's also the bane of my existence. Let me tell you all about it while we finish lunch and you'll realize how lucky you are to have girls."
I laugh.
It's deep and stems from genuine amusement. For the first time, I'm not guarded with this woman and I let her carefree spirit charm me. I think I can firmly say that this is a good first date, and yes...I go ahead and admit that this is a date.
Chapter 14
Lexi
I pick up the empty coffee mug from the low table that is surrounded by four deep-cushioned purple chairs, and with the opposite hand, wipe down the wooden surface. Tossing my towel over one shoulder, I trudge back behind the counter, through the swinging door back to the small kitchen and deposit my load onto the counter beside the sink. I'll wash the dirty ones later, as we still have a large enough stock of clean cups to get us through the evening throng of coffee drinkers.
Luckily, the new employee Georgia hired will start tomorrow. She'll serve as a part-time barista, dishwasher, and server, as well as whatever bottom-of-the-totem-pole duties come with being the new kid on the block. Until then, I haven't minded the extra shifts, because they've kept my mind semioccupied. I've been so tired at night I don't even have it in me to dwell on the myriad of dark feelings that seem to be dwelling deep within me, easily succumbing to deep sleep as a means of avoidance.
I'm feeling completely unsettled and without confidence in myself. Also slightly betrayed and a bit disappointed in myself.
And if I'm honest...I'm a little bit angry at Gray.
I know her advice to me last week to stay away from Roman came from a place of genuine concern. I truly believe part of it was concern for me, and she admitted as much that she also had some concern for the Brannon name. I get that. I really do. But what's disappointing to me is that while Gray was quick to point out that her sisterly concern was indeed real, she never once considered my happiness within her advice. She never once paused to consider the ramifications on me personally.
It may have been too much to hope for, but if she likes me as she says she does, and if she has mostly accepted I am in fact her sister, then why didn't she consider that I might really like Roman and that we could have something potentially special? I mean, all indications were that we definitely had something unique, and we were both willing to see where it was going with an equal measure of excitement.
I think deep down, I might even suspect that Gray knows that I want to be a part of this family so badly that she may have even used that to her advantage, knowing that I'd put our relationship and whatever I could do to develop it as my number-one priority.
And now I'm doubting having done just that.
I think I underestimated just how much I'd come to like Roman. I didn't understand it until that moment he walked away from me in the hallway and a heavy blanket of sad disappointment settled over me. I didn't appreciate the level of intimate interest I'd had in him until that night when I got home, I sat on my couch and an overwhelming sense of yearning thrummed through me as I remembered us lying on the couch together to watch a movie. And when I say intimate, I'm not talking about sex. Yeah, I know sex with him would be stellar and mind-blowing, and I'm sure we were headed there sooner rather than later, but I'm talking about just the personal affinity I feel for him and the level of pure comfort I feel with him.
It's not something I've experienced before, especially not so soon in a relationship. It's almost intangible and undefinable, but it's absolutely real.
And now it's gone.
Ugh. I've got to shake this shit off. I can't continue to wallow, pining over something that is no more. I also have to figure a way to get past this brewing anger I've got toward Gray, because that most certainly isn't going to help me develop a bond with her. And finally, I need to open myself back up to the notion of being a family with her and Brian, to just accept my losses and move on, trying to be happy with my gains.
Fat fucking chance, my subconscious says to me sarcastically. It knows as well as I do that I've not been one
to have my life dictated by others. I've been making my own decisions and guiding my own failures and successes since I was eighteen, and every single experience has made me stronger and wiser. The fact I'm letting someone else dictate part of my happiness is frankly just chapping my ass, and I know I'm going to have to get this off my chest with Gray at some point.
But that is for another day, as I have to finish cleaning up from the lunch crowd and then grab some food for myself before I start working the back end of my double shift for the upcoming evening.
Squaring my shoulders, I turn and head back through the swinging door, then come to a dead stop when I see Brian standing on the other side of the counter with Georgia. They're both looking at each other, and Brian laughs at something Georgia has said to him.
I'm so surprised to see him standing there--with her--and that they're laughing together that I grunt slightly when the door swings back through and bumps me solidly in the butt.
Brian and Georgia's heads turn my way, and my dad's laughter dies but a smile remains that's filled with happiness to see me.
"Hey, kiddo," he says, and I'm not going to lie, I really like that affectionate term.
"What are you doing here?" I ask cautiously.
"You've been ignoring me," he says, then tips his head down to Georgia. "And we're both worried about you."
Oh shit. They're here to pick at my scabs that formed after last week, and I don't know if I'm ready to give Brian that level of access to me personally. Because if he scrapes that shit away and tries to get to the root of my feelings, he's going to know I'm not feeling warm and fuzzy toward Gray. And I don't want him to have to choose between us, because he'll choose Gray. Without a doubt.
So I roll my eyes at both of them and give a tinkling laugh. "You've got nothing to worry about. I'm totally fine, and I've got a ton of work to do."
"Well, luckily, as your boss, I can order you into my office so we can have a chat," Georgia says firmly. "And then you can get back to work."
"Georgia, seriously," I huff out. "There is nothing to talk about."