Spinster? (7 page)

But this year, it was on. This was Tess's second feature of the year, and she was going to kick Jemma's ass. Graciously, of course. Stiletto heel in Jemma's neck, trophy held high, "We are the Champions" blasting from the jam box being held high above Gabe's smiling face.
 

Like she said, graciously.
 

"Okay, that wraps it up. Make sure I have everything by the end of the day. It's going to layout tomorrow, and if your shit isn't in, I'll let Juan take over." Groans filled the conference room. Juan was their layout editor, and albeit extremely talented, had certain ideas on how their monthly should look. It had only happened once, to Bill Jennings, who may still be in therapy as a result. The title page of his feature piece on the mayoral race had ended up bedazzled in sparkled bubble font. No one had missed a deadline since. "Get back to work." Everyone vaulted from their chairs, anxious to get to their desks.
 

With her article completed, she had plenty of free time to watch time go in reverse—at least that's how it felt all morning long. Her stomach was churning and turning, both with excitement and hunger. She grabbed her purse and left her office. Her strides were brisk as she made her way down the hall to Willa's desk in the open foyer of their office.

"Willa, you wanna go grab a bagel?"

"Sorry, babe. Ben made me French toast this morning."

"Ugh, really? On top of everything he makes you breakfast?"

"Not all of the time. Only on the days he has early rounds. He doesn't like me skipping meals and he knows I always forget to eat breakfast. And he doesn't consider four cups of coffee and half of your muffin breakfast." Willa grinned, pushing her horn rimmed glasses up her nose. The glasses did nothing to mute the blue in her eyes.

"Well, do you want to accompany me while I get breakfast? I, unlike you, don't have a handsome short order cook at my beck and call." Tess reached over, tucking a piece of Willa's wayward hair behind her ear. "Please...remember that hot guy I told you about a few weeks ago, the one I have to interview for a not-mine reunion?
 

"Yeah."

"Well, it's today."

"Give me five minutes to finish up this spreadsheet."
 

Tess smiled in triumph. She knew this kernel would be too good for Willa to turn down. Tess did need sustenance, but the chance to tell Willa was just as appealing.

Exactly eight minutes later they sat at a small round in the coffee shop in the lobby of their building. They only had plain bagels left, so Tess had opted for a slice of coffee cake instead. Hopefully the sugar crash she would experience as a result would occur after the interview. Willa had a cup of herbal tea.

"Tea?" Tess asked.

"I've already had like ten cups of coffee. If I ingest any more caffeine I'm going to go into convulsions."

"Good call."

"Sooooo? Don't think I'm going to be lured away from my desk without the info," Willa said, with a smirk.

"Oh, I'm gonna tell you, and it's really not a big deal, so I'm not sure why I'm so worked up about it. I feel kind of foolish, but I know you won't judge...mmm, this cake is so freaking good...okay, so, like I told you, he was two grades above me. He was beautiful and popular. On top of that he was really nice."

"And obviously you had a ginormous crush on him."

"Of course...He didn't know who I was back then. I mean why would he? That didn't stop me from naming our babies and writing
Tess-N-Wes
on the inside of my spiral."

"It makes perfect sense. The less you know them, like really know them, the easier it is to obsess. You have the luxury of conjuring up an idyllic image in your mind, which he could never live up to in real life, I might add...kind of like I do with Bradley Cooper."

Tess nodded. "Precisely."

"Sit across from him like you didn't name your hypothetical children."

"Exactly."

"I can see why you'd be nervous, but do you think you're afraid the image of your teenage dreams will not match up to the grown up reality?"

"No, it's not that...I don't know why I'm so discombobulated. I just am. I'm not making any sense?" Tess groaned, putting her head down on the table.

Willa gave her downturned head a pat. "I get it. I think I would be nervous, too."
 

Tess raised her head. "Really?"

"Yup. Hottest, most popular guy from your school in the flesh. And you actually have to have a conversation with him?"

"I should have done a phone interview like I did with the rest." Head back down. Thump.

"Where would the fun be in that?" Willa wiggled her dark brows.
 

"I know, right? It's like I was too curious to pass it up. And you know what curiosity does to my cat." It was Tess's turn to wiggle her brows.

They both giggled. "I still say the odds are slim that he's still that good looking," Willa mused.

Tess chewed, thinking about it for a second. "Who knows. I'm way hotter, so what if he is too?"

"You were a late bloomer, Tess. He bloomed early...wouldn't it be a delicious twist of fate if you were the hot one?"

Tess brushed the crumbs from her hands and smiled. "That would be awesome." Her nerves turned into excitement. The odds were good—Tess was pretty, not drop dead gorge by any means, but good looking—or so she'd been told.
 
Suddenly, her hopes went from Wesley being as gorgeous as ever, to hoping he was overweight with a comb over.
 

"Awesome."

They walked back to the office arm in arm. Tess towered over Willa, what with her wearing heels and Willa in flats, which Tess envied now that her feet ached with a feverish intensity.
 

"Willa, thanks for letting me whine about it for a second time. You always make me feel better, and it's so nice to have someone who gets me. My neurotic insecurities don't even phase you."

"I feel the same way about you." Willa squeezed Tess's arm with her free hand.

"I love ya, friend. Almost more than wine."

"Whoa!" then Willa added, "I love you, too...but nowhere close to wine." They both laughed.

Tess walked back to her desk, lighter and more in control—leaving the nerves and butterflies behind. She was no longer the clumsy frumpette of her youth and she refused to revert back to that person. Her self confidence had been hard won and she wasn't about to relinquish it to a guy she hadn't seen in twenty years.
 

Just no.
 

The feeling filled her all the way down to her car. It continued as she weaved into traffic. It even stayed with her as she pulled the brass handles of the large glass door that read Foster, Graham, and Caraway
.
She gave her name to the receptionist with a touch of swagger. Her feet made their way down the thin Persian runner covering the dark wood floor. To anyone watching, it looked like she was simply brushing something from her skirt, in reality she was wiping the moisture from her palms.
 

"Be confident." she whispered to herself. She approached the fourth door on the left and took a deep breath. Throwing her shoulders back, she knocked on the door frame.

"Wesley?"

CHAPTER TEN

Tess hovered by the door. The man standing by the desk looked up to the sound of her knock. It would seem she got her wish—the one where she was now the hot one. The man behind the desk was overweight and balding. There was a sweaty sheen to his reddened face. She should have been happy, but all she felt was let down. It would have been nice to drool over him for thirty minutes. Going off script to get to know him better. Now she'd be out in fifteen.

"Sorry, I was just grabbing a file." The man smiled pleasantly, raising the manila file in his hand.
 

"You're not Wesley Caraway?" Her voice, a mixture of surprise and relief.

"No, Bradley Graham." He walked past her and left the office. The lady at the from desk told her to go on back, that he was expecting her, but wasn't sure if she should take a seat and wait. She decided to check back with the receptionist. Turning to go back to the lobby, she found herself nose deep into a pressed blue shirt.

"Pardon me," she said, raising her eyes to the nice smelling wall she'd collided with. Adams apple. Smooth chin. Full lips. Polished teeth. Proportionate nose to nostril ratio. Eyes. Soft looking hair. Wait, back to eyes. Whoa, blue eyes! Blue as anything blue you can think of that's an alarming shade of blue.
 

There was a deep chuckle. "Tess Warner?" Holy hormones, his voice...it wasn't high and it wasn't too deep. To quote Goldilocks, "it was just right."
 

Mayday...operation panty saturation is a go.

Clearing her throat, Tess nodded and stepped back a foot, and then two more steps for good measure. "Yes, I'm Tess. Sorry, you must be Wesley." She offered him her hand, which he took, after taking those two steps she'd gained. Of course his hands were soft...and warm...and big.
 

"Nice to meet you. Sorry, I told Linda to send you back when you got here, but I was called away for a second. Please..." He gestured for her to precede him, placing a hand on her back for a split second. She stepped into the middle of his large office and waited for him to tell her where to sit. She looked over her shoulder as he closed the door. His charcoal slacks hugged the curves of his rear like a second skin. When he turned she was facing forward again. Her perusal of his ass went undetected and took half a second. She was just that good.

Hot, dreamy voice, big hands, nice ass...Great. Now, not only was she questioning her ability to get through the interview,
 
she was doubting her ability to leave without showing him her tits.
 

"Please, have a seat." He moved to the chair behind the desk. Once he was seated, she took hers in a soft leather armchair directly in front of him. Wesley pushed a button on his phone. A voice, presumably Linda's, answered. "Yes, Mr. Caraway?"

"Hold my calls, for the next thirty please."

"Will do, sir."

Wesley looked at Tess, she was now able to take in the greatness that was his face, at her leisure. "Will thirty minutes be enough? I have to be in court in an hour."

"There aren't that many questions, so I think thirty minutes should be plenty. Thank you for meeting with me. I won't take up much of your time." She cleared her throat once again and pulled out the list from her messenger. "Okay, question one. What has been your biggest personal accomplishment since graduating?"
 

"We went to school together?" He asked, head cocked to the side. He was trying to place her, but Tess knew he never would.

"Yes."

"I think I would remember going to school with you." Compliment? Tess decided yes.

"Well, we did. I promise. I was two grades below you, so that's probably why." That, and she looked nothing like the hot mess she was back then.

"Did you know me?"

She willed her eyes not to roll. Like anyone didn't know him—he had to be aware of that fact. Fishing for compliments was a pet peeve of hers. Could it be he was oblivious to the power he had on every girl, and probably some boys, at Crest Ridge?

In case he was fishing, she kept it cool. "I knew of you, but our paths never converged." Per se.

"Well, if you weren't in our class, how did Lindsay rope you into this interview gig?" His voice was light, like he didn't take things too seriously. It was a refreshing change from the lawyers she'd encountered in the past. One of which being Hunter Boyd. The dullest, cheapest man she'd ever dated. That might not have had anything to do with him practicing law, but it soured her on the profession nonetheless. Just like all doctors most likely weren't self-centered, premature ejaculators, but thanks to Dr. Jeffry Muntz, that was her opinion until proven otherwise.

 
"You know, Wesley, I've been asking myself that question for the last two weeks." She gave him a full smile, which he retuned in equal wattage...Saturation level was now at any number number ending in -illion.

"I write for
Urban Living
, so I guess she got the impression I was the person for the job. It hasn't been so bad. She gave me the list of questions, so basically I conduct the interviews and put it together for the newsletters."

"I don't see why we need one newsletter, let alone four," he admitted.
 

Tess laughed. "I hate to say it, but I was wondering the same thing. I guess I should have declined, but I have a hard time saying no when someone asks for my help."

"Good to know," Wesley said with a roguish smirk. "Don't tell anyone, but I wasn't even going to go to the reunion."

Okay.
 

"My lips are sealed." She tried to ignore the fact that he was now looking at her lips. "Anyway, it's fine. Maybe I could add it to my portfolio or something." She smiled. "I think we've eaten fifteen of our allotted thirty minutes, so we better get to these questions."
 

"Oh, right. I was enjoying our conversation so much, I'd forgotten." He grinned. It was a flirty grin. If she'd been unsure before, she knew now—Wesley Caraway was flirting with her. EEEK! But wait, was he married? Because that could go from flattering to insulting in an instant. Her smile dropped and she looked at his hands, but the one that may or may not have a ring on it was under his desk. Until it was confirmed or denied, she had to keep this strictly professional.

She cleared her throat. "Question number one: What do you feel is you biggest personal accomplishment since graduating." He shifted a bit, picking up on her crisper tone.

"Well, finishing college and law school was all well and good, but I'd have to say, raising my kids has been my biggest accomplishment." Damn, married. "Being a single father is the hardest thing I've ever done." Wait, wait. Hold the phone. Single? He said single.
Ding-ding-ding
.

"I can only imagine." Tone went from crisp, to melted butter. His face looked confused. Her rapid flip-flop must have given him the bi-polar vibe. She decided to split the difference and keep it friendly professional.