The Build Up

Before I opened my office door, I looked across the hall into Porter’s office. I waved and smiled, but he quickly turned his back to me. Now Porter was being weird? What the hell had gotten into everyone? Strange couldn’t begin to describe the start of my morning.

When I turned on the lights in my office, I nearly passed out, dropping my tote and portfolio on the floor. There were dozens of roses in a variety of shades in my office. I stopped counting after twenty dozen bouquets. Who could have sent these? Was it my mother? No way. She would have sent my favorite flower, stargazer lilies, and she only sends flowers on special occasions. She’d rather spend her cash at the casino. Was it Korey? I hadn’t spoken to him in weeks. He was at a conference in Seattle with Malcolm Gladwell per his social media. Not to mention, he was too self-absorbed to do something this thoughtful.

I closed my eyes, inhaling the smell of each vase full of flowers, marveling at the fact that my office now resembled a palatial garden. I looked for a card from the sender on each bouquet. I had all but given up until I looked at the bouquet of white roses on my desk. A small gold card peeked out between the flowers and baby’s breath. Carefully, I removed it from the bouquet and read it.

“It’s not a mixtape. But I hope these will do.”

I looked up from reading the card. Porter was standing in my doorway, looking sinfully delicious as he wore the coyest of smiles.

“I might have gone a little overboard. I didn’t know your favorite color, so I got them all,” said Porter, as he leaned against the doorframe. “At least all the ones that were available at my florist.”

Placing the card on my desk, I walked toward Porter, pulling him inside, and closed the blinds on my door. I stared at him, unable to say anything. A hiccup halted the tears that were threatening to crash down my cheeks.

Porter’s eyes searched my face for a response. “Do you hate it? Fuck. You hate it, don’t you? It’s corny, right? I...”

I waved the card around. “What is all of this about?”

“Ari, Kai’s not my girlfriend.”

“Wha...what? I...”

Porter shook his head. “I said Kai’s not my girlfriend. I broke up with her months ago.”

With wide eyes and with a desert-dry throat, all I could muster was a pathetic “Oh.”

“After Kai left, I went by your office to explain. But you’d hightailed it out of the building. I got the impression that you thought Kai and I were together.”

“Porter, you don’t have to explain.”

“Yes, I do.” Porter motioned for us to take a seat at the small table in my office. “We broke up almost seven months ago. I’d been dodging her calls for months, so she showed up at the job. Flew right past the front desk. Do you know she had Ms. Gayle chasing her down the hall like Gail Devers? The woman is in her sixties, for God’s sake.”

I tried not to laugh at the image. “That’s not cool but I’m surprised that she made it past Ms. Gayle at all. The woman treats the reception area like Fort Knox.”

Porter smiled. “Right! Anyway, what Kai wanted was for me to help her find a real estate agent. She figured since I’m here and I know a lot of people, I could help her. She’s pressed for time because her place is in escrow. So, I gave her the info of the best but most annoying, pain-in-the-ass real estate agent I know.”

“Jamal,” we both said with a laugh.

“What you saw was her hugging me goodbye. Kai can be a bit rude. Faking like she was my woman was taking crazy to the next level.”

Fine as you are, you’d drive any woman a little crazy, I thought.

I looked around my office, still amazed. “So, you sent me a shit ton of flowers to make your point?”

“Something like that.” Porter folded his arms across his broad chest as he eased closer to me. I smelled the heady scent of his aftershave the closer he came to me. Combined with the scent of the roses, it all made me delightfully dizzy. “I don’t kiss other women if I’m in a relationship. I wouldn’t play those types of games with your heart. Especially after what you told me about Maurice. I wouldn’t play with a woman who remembers my coffee order. Seems dangerous.”

I tried to hide my smile. It was sweet of him. A bit much but sweet. “So, you spent a mint on flowers!”

Porter shrugged. “It’s just money. And it was worth every dime to see the look on your face.”

Geesh. Maybe this dude really was as loaded as Greer claimed he was. Not that it mattered.

“But, Porter, I thought we talked about this. I...we...we can’t be together. Not like...three-hundred-dozen-roses level together.”

“Actually, it was twenty dozen. I was going to send you thirty-five dozen. For every day you’ve been here. For every day I’ve been lucky enough to know you.”

I bit my bottom lip as the tears I’d been holding back finally came. “Shit. You’re good.”

With a smile, Porter gently took the pad of his thumb and wiped a tear from my cheek. “I guess my signals are still a little crossed. You can’t blame a brother, Ari.”

My brain was scrambled like an old TV signal as I struggled to find the words. “Why?”

“Because, despite vowing to be on my best behavior, kissing you again is all I can think about.”

I leaned back in the chair as Porter eased his chair next to me, his eyes piercing me with longing and need. I knew that look. I invented that look. Porter wanted me. Bad.

Damn.

“Weeks? Really?” I stroked the back of my neck, my fingers twirling damp coils at the nape with nervous energy.

“Mhmm. Do you know how hard it is to be near you and not want to close the door and kiss you for hours?” Porter’s teeth grazed his bottom lip, sending a current of electricity to my clit. He looked over his shoulder. “You do realize the door is closed right now, don’t you?”

My eyes darted past Porter. Shit. It was. “Porter, we can’t kiss in the office,” I asserted. I needed to put an end to any more talk of kissing for the sake of my sanity and my vagina. “We can’t. Period.”

“I know we said we’d keep it professional. And that we both said that we don’t date coworkers.” Porter’s voice lowered to a seductive rumble that I felt in my belly. “But I really like you, Ari. I do. I can’t turn my feelings off like a faucet.”

Porter reached out for my hand. I pulled my hand back, looking into his eyes. They were bright and dancing, excitedly expecting another kiss. Another touch. Another answer. I wanted him to touch me all over until I was a putty in his hands. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

“Porter, seriously. I can’t.”

“I know. I’ll wait until you can.”

I looked at Porter, a level beyond shock registering in my brain. “Are you serious?”

Porter rolled his eyes and put his hands in his very fitted slacks pocket. “Yep. I’m serious. I’ll wait for you. And when the time comes, I’m going to show you off. I’m not going to treat you like some dirty secret. I’d be honored to be your man. But...for right now. I’m your friend.”

This man was unreal. I rubbed my temples. “Porter, that’s ridiculous! You can’t just wait for me to change my mind. What if I don’t change my mind? Then you’ve wasted your time.”

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