Here And Now

03. Meet Cute? Maybe

*Hold on to your panties, ladies. Daddy's here.*

I do help Weston, but I don't compromise my job for it.

Take that, baby.

When I reach our home, it's well over 20 minutes later. I rush upstairs to his home office and unlock the door.

Me and Weston have a very clear understanding about respecting each other's privacy, so it's very rare that I come into his office.

Thus, it takes me a lot of rummaging around to find the documents he told me to bring as well.

Maybe if he forgets all the necessary material for such a important presentation, he doesn't deserve the executive position at all.

I scold myself for my thoughts and shove them away.

"Aha!" I smile victorious.

I go to close the desk drawer however something catches my eye. I slide it open again, slowly this time.

I pick up the object, it's a polaroid photograph.

It's of Weston on the London Bridge, smiling and his hair flying in the wind, with his eyes hidden behind Ray Ban shades.

Weston never told me about any work trips to London.

And this photo cannot be older than a few months because there's a fading scar on his from when Dexter scratched him.

My body has frozen and my brain seems to blank out.

Only for a few moments though. After that my hands start trembling and my mind's working overtime.

Why would he not tell me?

♤

Luckily, the zero afternoon traffic helps me reach downtown under 40 minutes.

I park the car, and take a few minutes to calm myself down and gather my thoughts. I wipe my sweaty palms on my powder blue sweater dress and take a few shaky breathes in.

Tonight. I'll talk to him tonight and demand an explanation of this all.

I climb out of the car and make my way inside the corporate building. Weston's office is on the 23th floor, but I don't bother going up. I just shoot him a text telling him I am waiting in the lobby.

As I look around the intimidating glass lobby, someone clearing their throat makes me turn my head toward them.

The first thing I notice from my short person perspective is the white dress shirt and black leather jacket on that person. I never knew this combination could look good. As I slowly tip my head backwards and take in the man before me, my throat dries up.

The leather jacket encase thick biceps that lead up to a set of broad shoulders. Slowly a square jaw, light stubble scattered all over with a beautiful cupid's bow set of lips come into view. As I avert my gaze upwards, I see the most enigmatic pair of honey green eyes.

They are not quite green, nor hazel, neither are they brown.

It's a mysterious mix of color, that keeps you enticed.

Thick black hair is brushed away from the tan skin of his forehead where a little scar runs along his left eyebrow.

He's easily the hottest man I have ever laid my eyes on.

I gape for 2 more seconds than it is appropriate for someone married.

Married. Husband. Weston.

That snaps me out of it.

Luckily, he hasn't caught me gaping like a dying fish at him because...because he's too busy checking me out.

As his eyes reach my face, I muster enough courage to raise my eyebrows.

"Can I help you?" I don't recognize the husky tone of my own voice.

That seems to awaken him from the spell he was under. Slowly, as he takes in what I said, a smirk makes it way on the stranger's lips.

"Help me?" A soft chuckle escapes those rosy lips, seriously God wasted those perfect pair of lips on a man?

"Darling, you are the one who looks like a child lost at a fair." His eyes prode at me, amused.

With that flirtatious tone and arrogant swagger, instantly all the attractiveness about him drains out.

Even though it makes him appear insanely hot.

"No. Please, you may go on yo-"

"April!" A frantic voice interrupts me and the stranger.

I swivel my head to the elevators. Weston rushes over to my side. I thrust the bag at him, not wanting to prolong this as the incidents of an hour prior comes rushing back to me.

But he ignores the bag and loops his hand around my waist. He looks forward to the stranger, his demeanor uncool.

"Bisley," the stranger muses coolly, calling Weston by his last name.

"Hastings." Weston sneers back.

Hastings. So, this is the Jackson Hastings.

"Won't you introduce me to the Goddess beside you?"

I look over at him, shocked at the nerve of this guy. Is this guy for real?

Weston barely contains his growl, "Don't you think you should go up and come up with some excuse for why you are arriving after half the workday has commenced?"

"Oh, Bisley, don't worry about me. Unlike you, I inform Yuri of my shortcomings, which again unlike you are not often." Jackson grins wolfishly down at Weston.

He stands a good 2 inches above him. Though Weston is no small person at 6 feet tall.

He's goading Weston on. I can see why Weston doesn't like this guy. He is very very nasty.

Short of any reply, my husband turns towards me.

"Did you bring everything I asked you for love?" His voice is deliberately soft.

"Yeah, here."

"Thanks, babe." He cradles my neck and pulls me in for a kiss. Our first kiss this past two weeks.

Thanks, babe.

Babe.

I hear the shuffling of feet moving away and finally pull away from West to see Jackson stepping onto the elevator.

His warm eyes meet mine one last time as the elevator doors close.

"Babe?" There's a note of panic in Weston's voice. I don't answer him, because I don't answer to fucking babe or baby.

I turn around to leave when he catches my wrist in his hand.

"April." I halt.

"What?" My voice sounds defeated.

"Did he say something to you? Did you two talk?" There's a crazed look in his eyes.

"Uhh, we met barely 2 minutes ago, Weston." His entire behavior is confusing me.

"Good, good. I'll see you tonight? I'll be home early, we'll go out to eat. Some place nice." He smiles down at me, all relaxed.

Call me pathetic, but I melt under his loving gaze. Maybe I am overthinking it all.

"I would love that."

"Great, bye babe."

Just like that my smile drops.

♤