I moved my chair closer. I was inches from her thighs and could feel the heat radiating from her body. The feeling brought me back to the night of our kiss.
“Presumptuous? Woman, I’m not a man who presumes. This is a fact: There is an attraction between us.”
My eyes went to her thighs pressed together as Ari shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“So, what if there is? It doesn’t matter.”
“We are and it does. Now that we’ve acknowledged it, we can move forward and start over.”
“Okay. Let’s start over.” Ari stood up from her chair, extending her hand to me for a shake. I stood from my seat, looked her in the eye, and shook her hand firmly.
“Hi. I’m Porter. I love a good scotch and jazz on vinyl. I’m your partner on this project. I don’t date coworkers and I won’t kiss you again,” I said with all the seriousness I could muster.
Ari smiled that wide, gorgeous smile of hers, her hand still in mine. “Nice to meet you. I’m Ari. I love baseball and tacos al pastor. I too don’t date coworkers. I also don’t want to kiss you again.”
We laughed as we let go of each other’s hands, staring at each other for a few seconds. Ari turned, breaking the stillness, and began gathering her iPad and notes. I watched her and my heart stilled. I knew I was fooling myself. Despite everything that she’d just told me, I knew it was too late. How could I not want Ari when just one look from her turned my world on its axis?
“Well, let’s get back cracking on this thing, partner,” I said.
“Right. Let’s work in the smaller boardroom. Meet there in twenty minutes?”
“Got it.” I nodded as we both gathered the rest of our things. I watched her walk out of the boardroom. Her hips in her slacks were doing this magical sway that had me under their spell. I couldn’t budge; my body was feeling the beginnings of a very awkward erection.
Friends. Professionals, Porter. I looked down at my crotch. Now, if only the rest of me could get that message.
Chapter Thirteen
Ari
Telling Porter about the drama surrounding my departure from Leland, Stokes, and Brandies felt like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I could finally breathe. Most importantly, Porter and I could get the thought of our kiss behind us. Our rhythm wouldn’t be off like it had been for days. We could move past it for what it was—a moment of weakness where we let emotions get the best of us.
That wasn’t just a moment for me, Ari.
I shook my head at the memory of Porter’s words and decided to throw myself into developing fresh ideas for the stadium. Our presentation had been a bust and we had to redeem ourselves. Looking over at Greer, I could see he had the look in his eye that we’d opened the door just enough to plant a seed of doubt that we could present something amazing. Right now, we were barely in the conceptual phase; however, the Serrano Group could decide on a design anytime they wanted. That gave Porter and I the urgency to get our shit together and knock it out the park. If only we could think of something amazing.
The office phone rang, jolting me out of my thoughts.
“Ms. Gayle, I said I didn’t want to put in on the office lotto pool,” I said without looking at the caller ID.
“And why not? I played my birthday straight box and won 80 bucks. You could break me off a few million bucks,” laughed my mother, Doris. I could hear the familiar clanking of her spoon against her coffee cup. I shut my eyes tight and slapped my forehead. Shit.
“Oh, hi, Mama. I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy these past few weeks. Sorry I haven’t been keeping our daily call. I promise I’ll be at choir practice tonight.”
“Don’t ‘hi Mama’ me! I know you’ve been busy but missing choir practice is unacceptable. You better come to choir practice tonight. No exceptions. Otherwise, they’re going to give the Christmas pageant solo to Deacon Jordan’s niece, Shawna. You know she sounds like a drowning cat, Ari! Talking about she used to tour with U2. Yeah, right! What I should have said was ‘U2 is a damn lie!’”
I choked out a laugh. “Mama. That is so cruel. She isn’t that bad. Is she?”
My mama huffed. “Like hell she ain’t! The last time she sang a solo, we had the lowest collection ever in the church’s history! The Holy Spirit didn’t move folks to give. Probably because that girl’s screeching voice made them shut their pocketbooks. Anyway, that ain’t the only reason I called. So, I ran into your friend Bella and her beautiful twins at the farmer’s market. And you know what she told me?”
I sat up straight, feeling a dry, gravelly lump in my throat. Somewhere between the collard greens and bok choy, Bella would have spilled the beans about Porter to my mom. I had been avoiding telling my mother about any of it, especially about the kiss. I wasn’t ready for the inquisition of Doris James.
With hesitation, I responded as I nervously tapped my fingers on my desk. “Oh yeah? What did she say?”
“Bella told me you all had brunch a few weeks ago and your coworker just so happened to be there too. His name is Porter, right? She said the man was fine as hell. So...when am I going to meet him? Is he future son-in-law material?” Doris said in her usual, quick cadence.
“Mama, we’re just coworkers. Nothing more. I can’t and won’t date any more coworkers. We know how that turned out.”
My mother took a lengthy sip of coffee. “Well, that was then. Every situation is different. I said the same thing. Swore up and down I’d never date a coworker and ended up marrying your father. Honey, anything is possible. I just want you to be open to that possibility. It’s been such a long time since you had a nice man around. When’s the last time you’ve had a date?”
“I date. Remember Korey? He’s a nice boy that I have around sometimes,” I said, finally admitting that Korey was basically a booty call. “Besides, I don’t need a relationship to make me happy. I have my job and need to focus on that.” My mother’s meddling in my love life was a nuisance but came from a good place. I didn’t need a man to make me happy. Even if that potential for happiness had dazzling green eyes, a kilowatt smile, and kissed me like I was water, and he was on fire.
“Ari, dear, that’s a load of crap and you know it. Either shit or get off the pot! One minute you want to be in a relationship, the next you want to be like those girls on that show. What’s the show? Where those tired, but well-dressed white women just have a bunch of boyfriends and work all the time?”
“Sex and the City.”
“Yes! Sex and the City! You want to be a Samantha!”
I frowned. I always thought I was more like Carrie. But knowing my mother, she probably had the names and characters all mixed up. If it wasn’t reruns of In the Heat of the Night or Law and Order: SVU, Mama had no clue about popular television shows. Even if they’d been off the air for almost twenty years.
“Anyway,” my mother continued. “Bella said you got all weird when he came to your table. You like him, don’t you?”