The Call: A Psychic Paranormal Romantic Comedy Page 13
Matilda was many things. Arm candy wasn't one of them. Short and awkward with her limp, how could she possibly stand next to six-feet of dark-haired, soft brown-eyed perfection and expect to be anything but a joke?
She'd spent a fair amount of time studying his various bits and pieces over the last several months. He was damn near perfect. Long-limbed, with wide shoulders that had at least some muscle to them. Lean torso, tapered waist.
He had looked really good in the suits at the conference. Jake in a suit was delicious. Jake in t-shirts and jeans was better. More approachable.
He looked really good getting a terrible blow job, too. From the supermodel girlfriend he hates. Don't forget that.
"You're doing it again," Ellie said.
"Sorry, Ellie. I'm sorry. I know. I'm trying. I really am," Matilda said.
"Just so we're clear on this, I think you're a fucking idiot for not going for it. Prince Charming deserves a phone call, Matilda."
"It's not going to leave me anywhere good in the end, Ellie. When do you leave for Charlie's parents?"
"Day after tomorrow. We'll be back after the new year," Ellie was staring at her. "Are you going to Christmas at their house?"
"No. I just. Can't. Eric and I are going to do a Christmas movie marathon," Matilda said.
"I really wish you'd stop avoiding Jake. If you talked this out, maybe you wouldn't feel so angsty," Ellie suggested for the eighth time.
"What am I going to say?" Matilda asked.
"Here's my suggestion: 'Hey Prince Charming, your brother said you have the hots for me. Let's get sweaty and slippery together because I've been flying solo thinking about you for the better part of the last year'. Or, something similar."
"And then?"
"Then what?" Ellie asked.
"I'd have to follow it up with 'Don't worry, I won't say anything to your absolutely fucking perfect bitch of a girlfriend.' Oh yeah, we keep forgetting about that."
"I'm pretty sure her ass would be kicked to the curb in a hot minute, babe. Honestly."
✽✽✽
"Is she coming to Christmas?" Jake asked.
"Nope," Sam replied. "Probably you should call and talk to her, like a fucking adult. I said all the hard stuff already. Own it, bro."
"That's the fucking problem, Sam. She's actively avoiding us since you told her. She's not fucking interested, and now there's no going back to being friends."
"Were you ever really just friends, Jake? It's time. Be honest with yourself. There was no 'friends.' Ever."
"She doesn't want to see me."
✽✽✽
It snowed on Christmas Eve. Eric stayed at Matilda's apartment, drinking good whiskey and eating homemade pizza while watching a movie marathon.
The current movie was another adaptation of Pride and Prejudice.
"I like the Colin Firth one more," Eric mused.
"That's because Colin Firth is delicious," Matty said with a smile.
"It's true, he is. But Emma Gracen is much better in this version as Elizabeth than whats-her-face in the Colin Firth one," Eric said.
"Emma Gracen is good in literally everything. She's like Sam. Anything she touches is going to be amazing," Matilda said.
There was a pause. I mentioned a Trellis again. Fuck.
"Should we change Jake's nickname to Darcy? Is that more apt than Prince Charming? He's kind of a bumbling idiot that doesn't communicate well," Eric wondered.
"Ha! I hadn't thought of that, but it's true," Matilda said.
"You know the story ends the same way, right? Darcy and Charming both sweep the lady from her feet, riding off into the sunset to live happily ever after," Eric said without meeting Matty's eyes.
This was Eric's way. Gentle prodding to get to the heart of things. Matty wondered how long he'd been waiting for the opening.
"Lucky lady, I'm jealous of that bitch," Matilda said with a smile.
"Honey, right now, you're passing on being that bitch," Eric said quietly.
"I'm more of an ugly step-sister than a Cinderella, Eric. That glass slipper isn't going to fit."
"More Jane than Elizabeth?" Eric asked.
"With my luck, more like stupid, spaztastic Lydia Bennet than Elizabeth Bennet," Matilda tried to smile.
"That might be more appropriate than you want. Lydia's own poor choices and ignorance led to a hard life," Eric pointed out.
They fell silent for a while. Eric pretended not to notice Matilda wiping tears away.
Moving to a lighter topic, he said, "Could you imagine going through life as Emma Gracen. Holy fuck, she's beautiful. I'm as queer as a three-dollar bill. Given a chance, I'd probably go for her."
"Most beautiful woman of the year, for the third year running. I don't ever remember them naming the same person more than once." Matty said.
"That honey-colored hair with starburst blue-green eyes. She's funny, too. Cracks me up on Saturday Night Live. I love it when she sings," he said.
"She'll probably be Jake's next girlfriend," Matilda said.
Eric pulled her closer. "I don't think so, babe."
"What are we watching next?" Matilda asked.
"Something Colin Firth-y?" Eric asked.
Chapter 17 – March
It was raining again. It rained more often than not when Matilda had beer meetings. She hadn't seen the beer team in four months. They were at the point in the project where everything was in motion - no more planning to be done. They had phone calls rather than meetings. Emails were sent rather than presentations given.
The branding was done. Aisling na Meala was brewing with Connor's oversight. Connor would monitor the brewing process for the first year to ensure the quality of the product. This project was almost done.
Today's meeting was with the advertising agency that would promote the beer regionally, then nationally. It was out of Matilda's depth. She was a strategist, not an advertising creative person. She'd heard of the creative director that would be leading today's presentation. He had a reputation for being brash and sexist.
Ha. That'll be fun to watch with the Trellis men.
The Trellis men. That's how she needed to keep thinking. They're a group. She would think of them as a group. Matilda was not going to think about Jacob in any other setting than work. They worked together. He was a client. Like Sam. Like Noah, Ethan, and Hank. Everything else was bullshit.
He's dating a supermodel that gives terrible head.
"No, Matilda. No," she told herself out loud. "That's none of your business. You need to be professional. Calm. Cool. Detached. He's a client. No more fantasies. There will be no relationship there. There is no future with him." She nodded her head at herself in her bathroom mirror.
There could be a 'right now' with him. One good romp, and be done.
"No, Matilda. You're better than that. You deserve better than that," she told herself out loud.
I'm not better than that. I think that would be pretty fucking fantastic. I just can't get attached. That's all. It won't work as a relationship… but, fuck-buddies? Maybe. Can I do that?
She smacked herself in the forehead. "No, Matilda. No. Stop thinking about this," she told herself again. There was a red mark on her forehead. Great.
Sam said Jake likes me. OK, Sam said Jake loves me, but Sam was overstepping. Jake wants in my pants. That's not a bad thing, right? A great fuck or two, and we just won't take it any further. I can do that. Sometimes people do that. I just haven't done that.
"Ugh. You're dumb," she told herself. "He's dating a supermodel."
Still… I'm going to wear a skirt today. I want to feel pretty and girly. Just because he's with a supermodel doesn't mean I can't be pretty.
Light makeup and delicate silver jewelry to soften and highlight. Hair pulled up and back in a pristine bun. Silky button-down blouse with large pale purple flowers loosely tucked into a black knee-length pencil skirt, black stockings, and black dressy mary-jane flats. Perfect. Pretty. Feminine.
 
; No suit today. Suits were for fitting in with the men. Today, she was a lady.
I feel good.
She ordered a ride and headed out.
✽✽✽
Jake didn't sleep well the night before the advertising meeting, too busy wrangling the nervous tension that came with the thought of seeing Matilda for the first time in months.
He had wanted to call her several times. They could go out and have dinner. A proper date. But, every time he picked up the phone, he thought of her shooting pool on the last night of the conference. She wanted to be anywhere but there.
But, Bella was still around. Bella was a horrible bitch to her. That's over now.
Sam told Matilda. He told her pretty much everything, from the sound of it. She didn't express any kind of interest at all in being with Jake. He hadn't called her. But she hadn't called him, either. Matilda was bold enough to call if she wanted to see him. She knew he'd come running. She didn't call. He needed to let this go. She wasn't interested.
Maybe he could talk to her. Maybe he could convince her to have dinner. Hearing it from Sam was different than talking to him.
We'll see how today goes. I'll know what to do after today, he thought.
Today, he'd go through the effort to look good. Today was a day for a suit. Suits were a pain in the ass. Jeans and t-shirts are much more comfortable.
But fuck if I don't look good in a suit.
✽✽✽
When Jake got to his office, the advertising people were already setting up in the conference room. They did a round of introductions when he said hello. He wasn't paying attention. He didn't care about these people. He didn't even care about the product anymore.
Sam came into the conference room in jeans and a t-shirt. They looked at each other's clothes. Sam smiled. "I didn't know we were dressing up today. You should have told me."
Fuck. Now I look like an idiot.
Hank came into the room in his usual khakis and button-down. He also smiled at Jake. "A phone call would have helped."
Double fuck. Now I look like a bigger idiot. She's gonna know I dressed up for her and it's going to be pathetic.
Jake yanked off his tie, undid the collar button on his shirt, and threw his suit coat and tie in his office before closing the office door.
"Jacob, your mother would be appalled. Hang that coat up," Hank chided.
Jake glowered at him.
Ethan came into the room, took one glance at Jake, and burst out laughing.
"How do you always know?" Ethan asked Sam while handing over a ten-dollar bill.
"Fuck you both. I hate you," Jake said with a flat voice.
Noah came into the room with Gary and Ellen.
Noah chuckled while handing Sam ten bucks. "I bet on the Deadpool riding a unicorn through a rainbow t-shirt. You suck."
"What's the lesson here, kids?" Sam said to the room at large.
Ellen snorted. "You never, ever take a bet against Midas."
"Ellen's my favorite today," Sam said.
After taking a quick survey of the advertising people, Sam's gaze landed on the creative director. "Ah. OK."
The creative director jumped up to introduce himself. "Mr. Trellis, I'm Ryan Popovich. Can I call you Sam?"
"No," Sam said, declining the corresponding handshake and walking out of the room.
✽✽✽
Matilda was the last person to arrive. She'd gotten stuck in a line at the security desk for more than twenty minutes. She texted Hank but didn't get a reply.
There were still six people in the queue in front of her when Sam took her bag off her shoulder.
"You always startle me when you do that," Matilda said as she smiled up at him.
"I don't know why it startles you. I do it every time you're carrying something," he said as he took her hand and walked toward the elevator.
"Um, it startles me because you do it before saying hello," she was still smiling.
They got on an empty elevator and headed to the 43rd floor.
"I take it Hank got my text?" she asked.
"Oh. No. Security is perpetually backed up, so I thought I'd come to get you. Everyone else is set up already."
"I'm sorry to hold things up," Matilda knew being late was not good.
"It's not your fault security is a mess right now. We need to change the process. We're doing some government work that requires additional security checks for new people," Sam said.
"A William project, I take it?"
"Correct," Sam smiled his little smile.
Before they turned the corner to get to the conference room, Sam paused and handed Matilda back her bag. "Please sit next to Hank. Let me go in first and move my laptop. Give me a ninety-second head start."
"Assigned seats?"
He shook his head. "I have a headache."
Matilda didn't know what that meant in the world of Sam, but she nodded. She'd do as he asked.
✽✽✽
Sam came back to the room alone. When he walked away from the ad guy, Jake assumed Sam was going to find Matilda. But she didn't come in with him.
What the fuck? Where is she? She's never late, except for that time with the puddle. What if something happened?
"She's fine," Sam said. "She'll be right here."
Sam walked around the table and sat in the chair between Jake and the ad guy. Jake had intentionally positioned things so Matilda would be sitting next to him. They could whisper little comments and make jokes like they used to do. And then maybe play some pool and talk.
What the fuck, Sam? You know I did this on purpose. What the fuck?
Sam turned to look at Jake with a completely blank face. "I have a headache," he muttered.
Jake glared at his brother.
Not good. But what the fuck, man? Matilda's not giving you a headache.
At the sound of something being placed on the far end of the table, Jake looked up to find Matilda putting her stuff down in Sam's previous spot. She was taking off her coat.
Hank jumped up to take her coat and hug her. He actually picked her up to swing her feet a bit. "You've been away too long, sweetheart," he said.
Jake sighed. Seeing her, being near her, made him feel better. Calmer. Less irritated.
Why does Hank get to call her 'sweetheart'? That's not fair.
Hank was doing a round of introductions. Jake still wasn't listening. He didn't know any of the advertising people's names.
Matilda made a lap of the table, shaking new people's hands and greeting everyone else.
She whomped Noah teasingly on the head. Ethan got a cheek kiss. Hugs for Gary and Ellen.
Jake was next. He jumped out of his chair and reached to hug her. Then he thought of hugging her at the conference and the result of that hug. It ended up being a weird half-hug with very little bodily contact.
His brothers were trying hard not to laugh.
Oh. My. God. She's wearing a skirt. She's never worn a skirt before.
She took a step back and glanced at him. "Jacob Trellis, are you wearing a SUIT? Where's the coat? Is Darla here somewhere?" She poked his collar button. "No tie, though. It's like you walked to the edge of the adult-cliff and went no further."
She grinned at him.
Holy fuck, I'm crazy about you. I can't even crack a joke right now.
Sam was next. He grinned at her, a true smile. "Eh, 'sweetheart'. We still haven't picked the right condescending nickname for you."
Matilda bopped his head. "Behave. We have company," she said in her best Darla tone. Sam chuckled. There weren't many people that Sam teased, and fewer still that teased him back.
She turned to shake hands with the creative director.
"Yeah, hi sweetheart. Glad you're here. I'd like a large coffee with two creams and three sugars," he said as he gave her a dismissive little wave.
There was a general pause among all the Trellis employees. Hank was so taken aback, he didn't say a word. Sam's face lost all traces of humor as he p
ut a staying hand on Jake's arm. Even if Matilda was the office assistant doing the coffee run for a big meeting, Trellis employees just weren't treated like that.
Ethan stepped into the awkward silence. "Ah, Mr. Popovich-"
"Call me Ryan, Ethan!" The creative director said jovially.
"Ryan," Ethan continued. "I apologize for the confusion. This is Matilda Benton, the lead strategist on this project and the person that recommended your agency. I could understand how our casual greeting and good-natured teasing would seem unprofessional. But, I assure you, she's a vital part of this team and project. If you'd like coffee, the kitchen is just down the hall. You can help yourself whenever you'd like."
"Great! Are we ready to get started?" Popovich asked.
✽✽✽
Ryan Popovich was indeed an asshat. But, his ad campaign was golden. It was going to be extremely successful. Matilda attempted a few questions as the meeting carried on. He ignored her or was condescending to the point of awkwardness.
Ellen experienced similar treatment, but it was less apparent. Matilda was called 'sweetheart', 'honey', and 'babe'. Ellen wasn't referred to by name or nickname.
Ninety minutes into the meeting, Hank called a break. Matilda stood up and stretched.
At the same time, Popovich leaned over to Sam and stage-whispered "Fuck me, the tits on that redhead are unbelievable."
Before anyone could say or do anything, Hank had Popovich by the arm and was asking to speak to him privately.
Sam also dragged Jake away, seemingly by force.
✽✽✽
Hank dragged that fucking advertising dick out of the room before Jake had time to decide on a course of action.
Now Sam was dragging Jake out of the conference room.
After being led into Sam's office, Jake wrenched his arm free of Sam's vice grip.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE DOING IN HERE?" Jake bellowed.
"You need to calm down," Sam said.
"I need to go rip that fucker's head off and spike it like a fucking football," Jake replied.