Not Quite Perfect (Not Quite Series Book 5) (10 page)

“Are you kidding? The face on the waiter when we told him where we were from . . . and that you flew to meet me, picked me up . . . flew us here, a helicopter. I think the guy thought we were full of crap. That alone was worth the tale.”

“It is a little over-the-top,” he admitted.

She wanted to question him more on why he’d taken such extreme measures for this date, but the car stopped at the curb of the building they’d flown to in the helicopter.

They walked along the now familiar path to the elevators, where an attendant greeted and escorted them to the roof.

Glen shook the pilot’s hand and helped Mary into the passenger seat. She put on the earphones without being instructed. It was full dark, and the lights of the city directly contrasted the darkness of the bay.

“It’s simply stunning,” she said once the helicopter lifted into the air.

“I understand Trent’s affinity for choppers.”

It was well known that Monica’s husband, Trent, loved flying helicopters. According to Dakota, all the Fairchild men knew how, but unlike his brothers, Trent almost never sat in the passenger seat of a chopper.

“What does it take to learn to fly?”

“Study . . . practice. Why? Is that on the Mary bucket list?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Is that Alcatraz?” She changed subjects and pointed out the window.

“I believe so. Have you been?”

She quickly shook her head. “No, and don’t care to. I do not need to see the inside of a prison.”

Glen’s laughter filled her headset.

They were no sooner in the air than they touched down on the tarmac and were shuffled into the plane they’d arrived on.

Instead of wine, Glen handed her coffee once the plane was in the air. Added to that, there was the warm smell of chocolate as he handed her what looked like a piece of cake without frosting. “You’re killing me,” she told him.

“It’s small.”

“I hate working out.”

“Me too.”

He still handed her the cake and didn’t let her hand it back.

It was flaky and moist in the middle and practically melted in her mouth. “Oh, goodness . . . this is sinful.”

He paused as he watched her take another bite.

She noticed his lower lip open and the tip of his tongue peek out before he realized he was staring and pulled himself together. A perfectly female part of her did a little happy dance. She hadn’t meant to be enticing, yet here she was, capturing the attention of a charming, gorgeous man by simply eating her dessert.

Mary wiped the edges of her mouth and tried not to stare. “Why did you go through all this effort, Glen? I’d have been just as happy with a quiet meal in a nice place close to home.”

Her question pulled his gaze away from her lips and onto his own plate. It was his turn to shrug. “I think we’ve both been wanting this for a while. I wanted to make it count.”

Mary lifted both hands in the air. “Mission accomplished.”

He grinned, flashed a dimple on the left side of his face, and ate half his dessert in one bite. “Besides . . . a nice meal close to home would have ended hours ago,” he said around his food.

Mary actually put her fist to her chest. “How the heck can you be so charming and such a . . . a . . .”

“A what?”

She couldn’t put to words what she thought. “You stole Dakota’s monkey from me.”

“I touched it first.”

“I saw it first,” she said, laughing.

“And you thought I’d just give it up.”

“It would have been the chivalrous thing to do.”

“On a date, maybe . . . but don’t hold your breath . . . in a hospital gift shop. No way, babe. It’s like a Bluelight Special at Kmart. Every man for himself.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re too young to know about a Bluelight anything from Kmart.”

He finished the rest of his dessert and continued to talk while waving his spoon. “I saw a movie.”

Mary gave up on the chocolate, gave the rest to Glen, who happily devoured it. She enjoyed watching him eat and had to shake herself to look away.

“Did you get away with everything when you were a kid?”

“Trent got away with everything. Jason got away with nothing . . . I lingered in between.”

“Middle child syndrome. Did you try and fix things between your brothers . . . make your parents happy?” She was analyzing him, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Some.”

Hmm, the great negotiator. “So what exactly do you do at work?”

He hesitated and had a lingering smile as if he was surprised she’d asked. “I’m the CFO.”

She didn’t waver her stare.

“I work with a lot of finance in the company. I try and find ways of building the business, maintain parts that are lagging. Analyze what’s working.”

“Sounds like an imperative part of the company.”

He shrugged. “Jason was always bossy, Trent had a hard time following instructions, I had the numbers and schmoozing thing down.”

“It all worked out.”

“Yeah . . . I like what I do.”

Mary sat forward in her seat. “Did you pick it?”

“Chose my job?”

“Yeah . . . was it your decision, or did your father suggest that leg of the company to you at some point and you felt obligated to do it?”

Glen tilted his head as if questioning her question.

“You analyze everyone, don’t you?”

She was doing it again. “Occupational hazard. Forget I asked.”

This time Glen pushed his plate away and leveled his eyes to hers. “Shortly after our parents’ death, Jason, Trent, and I sat down . . . we got shitfaced drunk, and we talked about what we wanted to do. Trent was the most torn. Couldn’t do the desk. Said he needed to ease into the company. Jason spent the largest amount of time with our father in the office. He’d already been working with the company and knew more of the staff than any of us. I had a position, but it wasn’t CFO. I’d worked with our head of operations, and with his help, took on the position I now run.” He paused. “We all had a choice. Our father didn’t force anything on us and we were more than happy to jump in when we needed to.”

He delivered the information with very little emotion on his face. They were simply the facts that no longer bothered him to provide.

“Your parents must have been very proud of you all.”

Now he smiled. “We gave them a fair share of grief, but I think we turned out all right.”

It was after midnight when Glen walked her up to the front door.

She turned and smiled. “Should I invite you in?”

He tilted his head for a second in thought and gave a quick shake. “If you invite me in, I won’t want to leave.”

Her whole body shivered with the meaning of his words. “Are you flying home tonight?”

“I have a room at The Morrison.”

“That’s silly. You’ve slept on my couch before, you can—”

Glen stepped into her personal space and brushed her chin with the backs of his fingers. “I don’t trust myself to stay on your sofa bed, Mary. And I don’t want you to think this night was about that.”

Mary wanted to analyze what the night was about, but her head was too fried to think that hard. “Okay.”

“However, I do want to kiss you again.”

It was as if he was asking. “Dessert before dinner, and after?”

“I like to indulge.”

Mary tilted her chin higher and rested a hand on his chest. “I had a wonderful time.”

“I did too.” He leaned closer. “You’re not nearly as uptight as I thought you’d be.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “And you’re not nearly as annoying as I thought you’d be.”

“A good start then.”

“Hmm.”

And then he was kissing her. The taste of coffee and chocolate mixed with Glen was edible. Unlike when he’d kissed her in the kitchen, this time he didn’t back away when she traced his lips with her tongue. He accepted her invitation and explored. Even at the late hour, or maybe because of it, her body tingled to life and moved to get closer. She hadn’t been kissed in a long time and enjoyed every second, every minute as he drew away and came back for more. She clawed into his shirt with one hand and felt the one holding her purse inch down his hips before Glen ended their make-out session on the porch.

They were smiling into each other’s eyes. “You should probably go before I invite you inside.”

“I probably should.” Only he didn’t walk away.

“Glen?”

“Hmm?” His hands tightened around her waist.

“Thank you, for tonight.”

He pushed himself away and kissed her forehead. “It was my pleasure.”

“Good night.”

He took his cue and stood back while she opened her door. “Sleep well, Mary.”

She closed the door behind her, leaned against it, and hugged herself with a completely adolescent smile.

Chapter Eleven

Mary’s phone buzzed next to her bed. One glance at the screen had her rolling over and texting back.

Yes, Dakota. I’m alone.

She tossed the phone down and rolled over.

She’d no sooner fallen back asleep than Dakota’s voice rang from downstairs. “I’m making coffee!”

Mary groaned. “I hate you,” she yelled.

“Hate me later. I’m a gimp, remember? And what the hell is all this plastic down here?”

She forced herself upright in bed. The first thing she saw was Glen’s jacket, which he’d failed to take off her shoulders before he drove away. She crawled toward it and brought it up to her nose. Everything twisted inside.

Mary pushed into a bathrobe and padded barefoot downstairs.

Dakota stood on crutches as she removed coffee cups from Mary’s cupboard.

“What are you doing?”

Dakota turned and stared . . . she waited a few seconds and said, “You didn’t get laid.”

“Oh my God, Dakota.” Mary expected nothing less from her friend.

“Why?”

“It was our first date.”

“A long-awaited first date. And you haven’t had sex since Jesus was a lad.”

Mary moved to take the cups out of Dakota’s hands. “Sometimes I hate that you know everything about my sex life.”

“No, you don’t.”

No, she didn’t. “We didn’t have sex because . . .”
Why didn’t we have sex?
“Glen . . .” How was she going to put this.

“Glen didn’t want to?” Dakota’s voice rose two octaves.

“Oh, no . . . he wanted to. We both . . .” Mary pointed to the kitchen table. “Sit. You’re making me nervous.”

She poured them coffee, mixed in cream and sugar for the both of them, and sat down. “He took me to San Francisco.”

Dakota gave a full tooth grin. “I got your text.”

“We flew from the airport into the city on a helicopter.”

“Eeek!”

“I know. Seriously great moves. Oh, but wait . . . he kissed me before we left.”

“What? Before you left here?”

“Yeah.” Mary gave Dakota a play-by-play, they both squealed when she described things like how he gave her his jacket, ordered for her when she refused . . . and how he refused to come in because he didn’t want Mary to think he’d spent all those first date efforts to get some horizontal naked time.

“Oh, man. I didn’t realize Glen could be so romantic.”

“Me either. We didn’t even argue. We always argue.”

“You two bicker like an old married couple. It’s hysterical.”

“We do, don’t we?”

Dakota reached over and patted her hand. “This could be the start of something good.”

Monica’s words tossed around in her head. “I’m going to enjoy it, even if it’s not a start. No regrets.”

“Good.” Dakota sipped her coffee. “So when will you see him again?”

“I don’t know; we didn’t talk about it.”

“It’s not like he can meet you for lunch.”

“He would be a complete distraction if he lived here.”

“Distractions are good.”

They turned the conversation over to Dakota and Leo, and by the time they were finishing their coffee Mary’s phone was ringing.

The girlie squeal thing would end eventually . . . but she enjoyed it now. “Hi, Glen.”

“You sound wide awake.”

And he sounded delicious. “That’s because Dakota hobbled over here at the crack of dawn.”

Dakota swished at her with both her hands.

“Good thing I didn’t stay over then.”

“Oh, she texted first to make sure I was alone.”

Glen’s laughter filled the line. “Glad you ladies have a protocol.”

“Like a tie on the door at the dorms. Are you on the way to the airport?”

“Nope, already in the air.”

“Makes me wonder how many hours a year you’re up there.”

“Probably about as many as you’re in your car. Hold on.” She heard him talking to the copilot.

“What’s he saying?” Dakota whispered.

“What are we? In high school?” Mary giggled.

Dakota nodded with enthusiasm.

“You there?” Glen asked.

“Aren’t there laws about talking on cell phones while flying?”

“No. We don’t get pulled over for speeding either.”

“Keeps your insurance rates down then.”

Glen was laughing again. “So, next weekend?”

“This weekend isn’t even over yet.”

“Let me rephrase. Next Saturday . . .”

“That would be the day after Friday,” she teased.

Dakota slapped the edge of the table and held in a laugh.

“You like pulling my chain, woman.”

“I haven’t pulled your chain yet.” The words fell out of her mouth so fast she couldn’t close it quick enough.

Dakota roared with laughter and Glen’s silence on the line made her cringe.

“Who are you and what did you do with that innocent woman I took to dinner last night?” he asked.

“I told you my mouth got me in trouble.”

“I’ll remember that. We’ll circle back to that chain a little later. Saturday at eleven in the morning.”

She waited for more.

Silence.

“Are you asking?”

“Hell no. Why ruin what’s working?”

True.

“What should I wear?”

“Casual. We’ll be outside and it will be in the eighties. And bring a swimsuit . . . just in case.”

“A swimsuit?”

Dakota’s eyes lit up.

“Unless you like jumping in the water fully clothed.”

“Not particularly.”

“Glad we have that settled then. I’ll text you later about that chain pulling.”

“Good-bye, Glen.”

He disconnected the call and Dakota and Mary squealed.

The plumber didn’t show up Monday as scheduled. They’d broken the blade to the concrete saw they needed to use to open up the floor and a new one wouldn’t come in until Wednesday, the day the job was supposed to be completed.

Monday was an evening work schedule for her. Not all of her clients were available to talk in the middle of the workweek.

Her routine for the past three years was to do her laundry on Mondays along with her grocery shopping. Wednesday afternoons were set aside for cleaning, which would have worked out perfectly if the plumbers were done, but that wasn’t going to happen.

Instead of grocery shopping, she found herself at the mall searching out a new swimsuit. This was normally a job for her BFF to join her on, but alas . . . Dakota was a tad busy with baby Leo’s first pediatrician appointment.

Thank God for cell phones.

With a dozen different bathing suits in hand, Mary stepped into the dressing room that had the worst invention known to man, fluorescent lights. She faced the three-way mirror and cringed. The first suit she tried on was a white one-piece with tiny black polka dots. She snapped a picture and sent it to Dakota, who was waiting to help her out.

Please tell me you have bikinis to try on.

This one is cute.
She didn’t have enough of a tan for white.

Mary slid out of the suit and into another one-piece.

Her phone buzzed. She glanced down, expecting to see Dakota chiding her, and instead found Glen.

Hey, Counselor.

Hey yourself. This is a new way to communicate.

The blue suit was strapless. She snapped a picture and sent it to Dakota.

Her phone buzzed twice.

I’m in a meeting and bored out of my head.

Mary leaned against the dressing room wall.
Aren’t you the boss? Can’t you just leave?

She switched conversations.
That one doesn’t show your cleavage. BIKINI!
Dakota shouted.

Another suit went to the
no
pile.

I called the meeting. Hence, I can’t leave.

Mary went for the red bikini, stopped between the top and the bottoms to reply to Glen.
Poor baby.

Well?
Dakota had the patience of a teenager with the car keys.

Give me a second.

The bikini was right up Dakota’s street. Skimpy with tons of cleavage. Mary snapped a picture.

Are you teasing me?
Glen asked.

Yes I am!
She enjoyed the banter. Even via texting.

Mary sent the picture with the question.
Don’t you think my ass needs more coverage?
Dakota would be straight up if it was too small. She took it off and put on the black two-piece that she felt would be a better fit.

Her phone buzzed.

Well? Did your phone die?
Dakota’s question caught her off guard.

Didn’t you get the
 . . .
oh shit!

Mary’s heart kicked in her chest when she switched back to Glen’s screen. Sure enough, there she was, red bikini with a question about her ass.

Her phone rang, and she nearly dropped it.

Oh, God. Oh, God.

It was Glen.

Her hands shook. “That picture wasn’t meant for you.”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“It wasn’t. I swear.” She sat on the dressing room bench holding her head with one hand, her phone in the other.

“My employees think I’ve lost it.”

Her embarrassment turned to laughter.

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s kinda funny.”

“So if that wasn’t meant for me, who are you sending bathing suit pictures to?”

“Dakota. I’m shopping and she couldn’t come with me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I swear.”

“Well . . . in that case. If you’re shopping for next weekend, and you’re wearing that for me, no your ass doesn’t need more coverage.”

Oh, just kill me now.

“If you’re shopping for another weekend when I won’t be with you, then yes, it needs more coverage.”

She was holding in her laughter so hard she teared up. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Not in this lifetime.”

Her phone buzzed. “Dakota is texting me. She’s going to think I abandoned her.”

“I might have to post this on Instagram.”

She stopped laughing. “Don’t you dare.”

“Buy that one.”

“It’s too small.”

“Instagram is one click away.”

“Okay, okay . . . don’t, Glen.”

“Buy it and I won’t.”

“I’ll get you back for this.”

“Sounds like a promise, Counselor.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting?” she asked.

“Buy it.”

“Good-bye, Glen.”

He hung up.

She didn’t even try to explain what happened to Dakota in a text. By the time she left the dressing room, the employees probably wondered if she’d used the space as a phone booth.

She put both the red and the black bikinis on the counter and offered a coy smile to the teenager at the register.

Mary glanced at her phone and the picture of her standing in the three-way mirror with too much of her butt sticking out and laughed all the way home.

“I met someone.”

Mary’s jaw dropped. “You what?”

“We both volunteer at the homeless shelter. I was serving the potatoes, he was serving the chicken.”

Mary saw stars and dropped into one of her patio chairs, pressing the phone to her ear. “Okay, when you say you met someone . . . you mean you met someone, met someone?”