“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?”