Virginal Headlines: Love Between The Headlines Page 11

  Of course, they wandered toward Grayson. The music store and the way he held me so close while we danced. His smile at the end of the night that took my reservations and burned them away. But he hadn’t kissed me, and I didn’t know how to feel about that, let alone what to think. How many times had he tried? And the one time I was willing, he chose to kiss me on the cheek instead.

  Maybe I’d sent the wrong signals. Maybe he’d realized it wasn’t what he wanted.

  I spent the rest of the night obsessing over every detail of the time we’d spent together, only to come away even more confused. Every moment I spent with him felt natural. Easy. He was nothing like what everyone thought he was.

  He had just been jaded. That was all.

  I was an hour late when I finally made it into the work. I could hear Quinn yelling over the entire office. Poppy was nowhere to be found. I pulled my chair up to my desk and kept my head low, working on small assignments. Hoping no one noticed how late I’d been.

  “I don’t care if the president called and asked me personally to work with that man. It isn’t going to happen,” Quinn snapped as she came down the hallway.

  “It’s important we keep a clean image, Quinn,” a voice I’d never heard before said. “You can’t pretend they don’t exist.”

  “You know where they exist? Here. On the bottom of my shoe.” A pause. “Cherry!”

  I jumped up from my seat. “Yes?”

  “We need you in the boardroom.” Without another word, she headed that way, followed by an older woman with straight white hair and a cane.

  “Quinny. Would you just listen to me? This isn’t—”

  Quinn stopped and spun, which halted me. “No. Okay? That’s my answer.”

  Once she was turned around, Poppy slid in beside me, appearing from nowhere. “You were late.”

  “Keep that to yourself.”

  “Rough night?”

  “More like rough morning. What’s she upset about?”

  Poppy paused, adjusting her heel. “That woman she’s talking to is Lydia. She was Quinn’s first investor and mentor. She wants Quinn to think about merging with Stud.”

  My eyes widened.

  “I know. When pigs fly, right?” She pulled me to the side. “So, how did it go with lover boy?”

  I gave a small shrug, mood souring even farther. I didn’t want to talk about Grayson. Not until I figured out how to deal with what I was feeling. “We ate. We danced. He came up and watched a movie?”

  Everything, even the pattern on the carpet, irked me.

  “Like Netflix and chill?”

  “If you’re asking if we kissed, that’s a heavy no. We’re friends.”

  “Friends?”

  I didn’t miss the slight note of revulsion at the word.

  “Yeah.”

  She grabbed my shoulders. “Prim… you do understand how short thirty days is, right?”

  A sigh dove off the edge of my lips. “Of course I do, Poppy. It’s only glaring at me every day on the calendar.”

  If she heard my growing irritation, then she didn’t care because it didn’t stop her badgering. “So then you understand friend-zoning the hottest playboy in town isn’t exactly what the assignment is about?”

  I couldn’t admit I had been fully ready to kiss him. That I waited, eyes closed, yearning to feel his lips, only to gain a kiss on the cheek instead. I wasn’t in any mood to hear criticism.

  Because maybe she was right…

  I removed her hands. “Poppy, I might be a virgin, but I do understand that any meaningful relationship starts out with friendship. Falling in love and deciding to stay isn’t because of good sex. It’s the feeling of knowing you couldn’t live without that person. Sex is just a plus.”

  A snort ripped past her lips. “Did you read that in a self-help book?”

  I smirked. “No. It was an article Brinley wrote.”

  “Oh, dear Jesus,” she said with an eye roll, “now I really am worried about you.”

  Brinley and a few others were already sitting around the large table in the boardroom when we entered. I took a seat beside Poppy, trying to tuck my nerves back into their beds. A platter consisting of several types of muffins were spread out on the middle of the table.

  “Good morning, ladies,” Quinn said, standing at the head of the table. “As you can see, I’ve provided brain fuel since today’s meeting will take up more time than normal.”

  “She had food brought in?” Poppy leaned toward me and whispered. “She’s showing signs of humanity. Things must be bad.”

  “I’ve called you in because our annual conference is coming up and I want everyone on their A-game,” Quinn continued.

  “Why? Because Harrison is attending this year?” Poppy said with a slick smile.

  I wish I had just an ounce of her nerve.

  Quinn glared at her, but she ignored the comment. “All the top bloggers and consumers will be in attendance. I want everyone in tip-top shape. On their absolute best behavior. If there’s a scoop, I want you all on top of it.”

  Poppy leaned close. “And if there’s a new man, maybe Brinley can date him.”

  I nudged her shoulder, eying her to shut up.

  Quinn moved around the table, asking for updates on everyone. I grew restless listening to the mindless chatter. Found my thoughts wandering to what went wrong the night before. It wasn’t until Brinley started speaking that my attention snapped to the present.

  She stood there, hands crossing and uncrossing in front of her.

  “Well? Spit it out,” Quinn said. “You’ve been at me all week for this chance to pitch an idea. Out with it.”

  She picked up a piece of paper. There was a slight tremble to her hands, but one had to look to tell.

  “She came from the meadow,

  this spritely thing,

  hair kissed with dew drops,

  eyes carrying the spring.

  She asked for a kiss,

  enchanted laughter on her lips,

  and when I surrendered,

  I found the meaning of bliss.

  I followed her through summer,

  through heat and rain and fall,

  and when winter’s chill blew in,

  her heart began to stall.

  “I must go back,” she said to me,

  as tears froze on her cheek.

  And when I reached for her, her touch turned cold,

  I rested my heart upon her feet.

  “Take this with you,” I asked of her,

  and gave her one last kiss.

  And when she left,

  and the dark consumed,

  I returned to my abyss.”

  “How touching,” Quinn remarked once Brinley finished reading. “And your pitch is?”

  Brinley folded the paper back up. Swallowed thickly. “I received this in an email the other day, and it got me to thinking. Why don’t we open a poet’s corner on the blog? A place where people can submit their pieces. Maybe even hold a contest. It would open up a new avenue of followers. I could… I could oversee the submissions.”

  “You could, could you?” Quinn’s lips pursed in their usual manner. She fiddled with a pen, staring at Brinley. And then, finally, “Sure. Get with IT and put it together. I want a pitch by the end of the week.”

  A smile cracked across Brinley’s face. “Thank you, Quinn.”

  Just then, Lydia stood, leaning on her silver cane. She didn’t have to say a word to gain the attention of everyone in the room. It was as if she sucked the air out just by blinking.

  “There is another serious matter we need to discuss.”

  My gaze darted over to Quinn who was leaning on her elbow, rubbing her temple and forehead.

  “I know the rumors have spread amongst the office. I’m here to tell you the rumors are true. There is an ongoing discussion about merging Virago with Stud to corner the market. After all, Virago is the child born from the makings of Stud.”

  “Like Eve plucked from t
he rib of Adam,” Quinn said brashly.

  The quiet that filled the room was deafening. Quinn glanced up at Lydia. For the first time since I started, I saw exactly what the blog meant to her. The bags under her eyes. The downward slope to her lips. The desperation glossing her pupils.

  “Now, it’s only talk. No decisions have been made, and they probably won’t be for a while. There are many things to consider. Which is why it is important that when we attend the conference, we are all on our best behavior. And we all offer kind words to the employees of Stud.”

  A quiet agreement was made between everyone around the room.

  “Good. Since we’re all in agreement, that will be all,” Quinn said as she stood.

  “Do you really think they’ll merge?” I asked Poppy as we wandered toward our desks.

  Her shoulders lifted just a fraction. “Anything is possible these days.”

  When I sat at my desk, I found my thoughts detouring in Grayson’s direction. What would it mean if the company I worked for merged with his? I still didn’t know how this assignment would end. How we would end. Add on the stress of having to work with him after he realized I was doing a piece on him…

  My fingers moved in soothing circles against my temples that pounded like large bass drums. I closed my eyes, letting all my worries dissolve.

  My father’s words danced along the base of my skull. What will be, will be. He’d always tell me whenever I’d stress over a test or a project. You have the power to give your all. To try your hardest. And, after that, what will be, will be.

  I would give my all to this assignment. I would write the article, then solidify my name in journalism.

  And after that… what would be, would be.

  Later, as I was feeding worms to Newt, I heard my phone buzz.

  “Be right back, buddy,” I said, moving to the kitchen counter where it sat.

  My heart skidded to a halt the moment I realized it was a message from Grayson through Facebook. Hey, beautiful, it read. I’m in your area and wondered if you wanted to meet up?

  My heart fluttered to life as I ran over to the couch, jumped over the back, and landed with a soft thud onto the cushions. Opening the app with record speed, I accepted his friend request, then opened Messenger. I reread the words, studying them. Why would Grayson be downtown this time of night?

  The pads of my fingers hesitated over the keys, only to zoom across the screen.

  Hey, you. What brings you this way this time of night?

  Dots flickered across the screen as I chewed on my thumbnail.

  You.

  One word that had butterflies swarming up my throat, chased by the constant shadow of guilt.

  Where are you? I asked, starting with that.

  Setting my phone down, I fed the last of the worms to Newt and handled him for a minute. Pet the back of his head. “Pretty soon you’re going to need a bigger tank, mister.” His tongue flicked out in response. After I placed him down and rubbed hand sanitizer on my hands, I picked up my phone, ignoring the nerves fraying one after the other.

  Downstairs, he’d written. I rushed over to the window and opened it. Stuck my head out, finding Grayson looking up, leaning against the light pole.

  The moment our eyes locked, he smiled.

  “I’ll be down in a sec,” I shouted, then closed the window. Rushing to my closet, I scoured for something to wear. I was in my pajamas decorated with tacos, and an oversized shirt I’d stolen from my dad. My hair was in a messy bun leaning sideways off the top of my head. As I stopped in front of the mirror, my heart did a backflip when I really saw myself.

  I looked wild with happiness. It reached all the way up to my eyes. Put a smile full of rainbows across my lips.

  Who was this person staring back at me? I didn’t know her. The length she was willing to go. The denial she was willing to feast on.

  Change was something that was inevitable. Growth happened whether we wanted it to or not. But sometimes we didn’t see the change before it happened. Like a car accident, realization appeared out of nowhere, and the person we once were collided with the person they were now.

  The Prim who left the cornfields to chase her dreams was no longer the Prim staring back at me. And that singular truth scared me more than anything.

  A sudden rush of fear flooded my veins as I reached inside me, trying to keep hold of the girl I once was. Couldn’t I grow, change, but still keep the parts of me that I cherished most? The code of honesty I lived by?

  I knew if I wanted to keep her, then I’d have to tell Grayson the truth.

  But how could I and still keep my career?

  Falling

  A smile tore free the moment Prim appeared on the steps to her apartment. She was wearing a soft pink dress with a jean jacket. Little gold stars dotted the fabric that formed around her small waist. And there were those black boots again, covering her ankles. A harshness against all her soft.

  All day, I’d thought about her. About the way she curled against me during the movie last night. How hard it was to keep my hands from roaming, reaching. About the soft pleading in her eyes when it was time for me to leave. I should have kissed her. I knew it the moment I left. Felt the regret sink in like quicksand.

  Her words about love and Poppy really hit home because, truthfully, I was scared of letting go. Of letting someone in.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” she said with a small smile. It wasn’t as bright as usual. There was something heavy in her eyes.

  “Is it still serendipity if I was in the neighborhood purely for selfish reasons?”

  Wit filled the curve to her lips. “That all depends, Mr. Pierce. Were your intentions entirely pure?”

  I placed a hand on her hip. Pulled her flush to mine. “Around you, it’s hard to stay pure.”

  There it was, the rosy color I found myself searching for flourishing in her cheeks.

  “So,” she said, not pulling away, but not meeting my eyes either.

  “So.” My gaze grazed over every inch of her face. Mapping every slope. Every subtle freckle beneath her frames.

  “You came all this way.”

  “I did.”

  Her fingers fumbled with the edges of my leather jacket. “For me?”

  God, just the tone of her voice made me hard. Sweet like syrup. Pure like honey. Fuck.

  “Yeah,” I said, voice hoarse. “I wanted to see this.” I tilted her chin up so I could see the full scope of her smile. The fullness of her lips slick with gloss. “My favorite curve. My treasured piece of art.”

  Her gaze sank a little. “You know, you aren’t the man people think you are.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Indifferent. Elusive. Maybe even a little cruel.” The way she said it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself of that truth than to tell me. Like she needed to place roadblocks out to stop the barreling speed we found ourselves in whenever we were around one another.

  A chuckle broke free, but it was weighted with every article ever written about me. “So that’s what they’re always whispering behind my back.”

  Her rosy expression wilted into an unfitting attempt at irritation. “I didn’t mean it like that. I… just… why are you really here, Grayson? Better yet… why me? Am I another conquest?”

  It caught me off guard… the sharp shift in conversation. Made my shoulders stiffen into a taut line as I tried to mine through the quarry of truth she dumped at my feet. Is that how she viewed me? All this time, and I hadn’t even tried to take advantage of what I was sure I could get from her, because I liked her, yet, she assumed the worst of me. But then again, I was the one who created my reputation. Who carelessly moved through women without a thought to how it would affect someone I cared about in the future.

  All this time, I was trying to fill a gap in my soul. A hole the size of the Grand Canyon. I thought hurting others would quell the hurt I felt, but all it did was set me up for this very moment. And the magnitude of it felt like bar
bed wire wrapped around my lungs.

  “Well?” The distress in her eyes weighed heavily as she waited for the answer. Her hands crossed over her chest, forming a shield.

  “Prim, I… no.” My head dipped, heart thumping painfully against my ribcage. “You’re not a conquest. I know what the world thinks about me, but I hoped you could see past the tabloids. I guess I was wrong.”

  Something akin to guilt dimmed the affliction casting shadows in her gaze. Her lips fluttered open, then shut. Once. Then twice. An uncertainty I didn’t understand taking residence in her eyes before she finally said, “Grayson, I need to tell you something.”

  My head gave a resolute nod, her words taking jabs at my stomach. There it was. The moment she told me what we had couldn’t go any farther. I knew, because I’d been in her position many times before. And the sad thing was, I couldn’t blame her. Couldn’t protest. All I could do was respect her because I fucking liked her. Because it was all I was capable of giving.

  Before she could get those words out, I stopped her. I’d back down without making her say it. I’d give her an out. After all, I was the one who brought this upon us. My emotions I’d taken so little care of. They were bursting in her presence, full of color and wonder, desperate for her help to decipher.

  But how could I tell her that? How could I explain it, when I was still trying to understand it myself?

  “It’s okay, Prim. I get it.” My tone waved a white flag as a sharp ache lanced through my stomach. “You can’t trust me. My past is too much. I just…” I paused, running my hands through my hair. “God, I just wish I could go back and undo it all if it meant I wouldn’t lose this shot with you.”

  I wasn’t prepared for the emotion that spread across her face. The jagged confusion that had her lips slightly parted as her resolve began to crumble before us.

  With an inhale, I added, “So go ahead. Lay it on me. What do you need to tell me?”