Page 4 of Enticed

“Yeah, that’s the problem, isn’t it? You don’t want to hear the truth. And until you face it, there will be nothing happening here.”

I turn to walk away but glance back over my shoulder to watch her walk to her couch, her head held high like I didn’t just reject her completely. I retrace my steps and search for a bowl in the cupboards in her kitchen, placing it on the floor next to her head on the couch where she’s lying down now.

“I do want you, Cooper,” she mumbles as a tear cascades down her cheek, closing her eyes and slipping off into unconsciousness quickly. I brush the hair from her face and place a soft kiss on her forehead before standing and assessing her once more.

“Yeah, I want you too, Clara,” I whisper before opening the door, locking it from the handle, and then shutting it behind me, knowing the words I uttered tonight are safe behind that barricade.

“The usual pick up?” A voice calls to me from the house next to Clara’s as I see her neighbor come out of the darkness of her porch.

My heart rate picked up at the sound and then attempted to calm down once I realized who it was.

“Yeah, Penny. The usual,” I sigh, walking over to meet her. She steps down the few stairs leading to her porch and comes face to face with me.

“I’m worried about her. I thought maybe the more time that had passed since that night, the better she would get. But it seems to just be getting worse.”

“I think so too. But I’ll still keep picking her up if it means she isn’t drinking and driving,” I declare, shrugging as if it’s not a big deal.

“You’re a good guy, Cooper,” she smiles up at me, cupping my jaw with her hand.

I offer a tight-lipped smile in response before turning to leave.

“Good night, Penny.” I wave to her as I arrive at my cruiser.

“Good night, Cooper. I’ll make sure she’s okay tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” I say before firing up my car and heading back to the station, ending yet another long night of work—full of both on and off-duty obligations.

Chapter 2

Clara

Three Months Ago

“So I took a big chance at the high school dance, with a missy who was ready to play… Was it me she was foolin'? 'Cause she knew what she was doin', taught me how to walk this way… She told me to walk this way, walk this way… walk this way,…”

Steven Tyler’s voice fills my ears as I sing along, strutting barefoot while twirling in my red Calvin Klein dress down the halls of the offices of Pearson Advertising, my home away from home. Well, more like my place of employment. But with the amount of time I spend on the floor of this building or in cities around the country making deals and taking names in the pursuit of world domination, I’d say I’ve become pretty accustomed to making myself comfortable here.

That and it’s a few days before Christmas and I’m the only one in the office, finishing up some last-minute touches on a presentation I have to give right after the holiday and before the end of the year.

“Walk this way! Talk this way!” I continue belting out the lyrics, singing back-up—quite successfully, I might add—before I make my way to the copier and program the papers I need. I catch my reflection in the mirror and give myself my own little show, spicing up the dance for the non-existent crowd I’m mentally performing for.

Winning this Royal Vodka account would be huge for the company and an even bigger recognition for me, inching me closer to the promotion as head of Public Relations, which all of my supervisors know is my strength. I may be able to come up with ideas for the pitch to a potential client right now with solid effort and have dabbled in the last year with travel to build connections with current and potential clients—but being the head point of contact between Pearson Advertising and our accounts would definitely be the dream position for me, and it would keep me closer to home.

This presentation had to be flawless, so I insisted I perfected it before attending Olivia’s holiday party tonight. Olivia, one of my best friends since our freshman year of high school, is having a get-together for all of her friends and family at her boyfriend’s house—although, by the end of the night, Kane will be her fiancé. When he insisted I help him pick out her ring, I played the part of dutiful best friend and made sure he got a diamond that would stun her. And now, as soon as these copies finish, I’ll be on my way there to witness their engagement.

A few months ago, Olivia moved back home and our foursome—Olivia, Perry, Amy, and myself—picked up right where we left off, an inseparable group of girlfriends any woman would want. We’re like the modern-day Sex and the City foursome—successful, strong, compassionate, and loyal to a tee.

Tonight, Olivia will become engaged with a baby on the way (a surprise pregnancy for her and Kane, but they’re thrilled about it), and Perry and Amy are already married and have kids—leaving me as the last single gal of our group.

But hey, you won’t see me crying about it. I love my single life—no one to answer to, no timelines and schedules of someone else to compromise with, no limitations to the type of man that I choose to satisfy me in a new city.

My job, of course, makes the reality of having a relationship more difficult than most. I travel one to two times a week right now, working my ass off for the job that I know is mine as long as I can nail this account. And then, maybe when my life is not all on-the-go and dedicated to work, maybe then I can start thinking about settling down.

I laugh at myself as I stand at the copier, waiting for the packets of paper outlining the presentation to finish.

The truth is, most people who know me would probably laugh at that notion too—the idea of Clara Anderson settling down, being a wife and a mom. Ha! I’m not exactly the motherly type, not like Perry or Amy, or even Liv for that matter. I curse like a sailor and pack a mean punch when someone deserves it. But someday, I wouldn’t mind having the white picket fence, the man I can’t get enough of, and maybe a little monster or two. As long as I can have a full-time nanny to help out—sure, I think I’d be okay with that.

“Finally,” I mutter as the copier staples the last packet. I reach for the stack and turn to walk back to my office when I hear a crash of glass behind me, loud enough to break through the music in my ears. I locked the doors earlier tonight knowing I would be the only one here. And even though it’s a big building, and there are cameras everywhere, you can never be too safe. Emerson Falls is a great town to live in, but there are bad seeds here just like there are everywhere.

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