Hey There, Delilah... (24 page)

After my little eruption, and a few more minutes of making out, Nick explains what the rest of my job entails - find a dessert caterer and pick out the menu a.s.a.p.  Also, price is not an issue.  Apparently, the attendees pay a thousand dollars per plate.  “It’s all for the children,” Nick says, when he sees my face go ashen.

Of
course, I make sure that I report directly to him, and that
she
won’t be joining me on any of the tastings. I don’t want anything to do with this Veronica chick.  He assures me that I am the boss and all decisions I make are final.  Sweet! No pun intended.

I spend the next week
balancing my days between work and dessert tastings.  I try to schedule them all for my lunch hour, but Nick tells me to do whatever I need to do to get it done. It is my “top priority,” according into him.  And since the charity ball is only ten days away, I try to keep focused. With my nose to the grindstone, I visit six cake shops in four days, and have nothing to show for it but a stomachache and an extra pound or so on my ass.

I need to find the “hot” place that only the rich use. The elite.
The best. The top of the heap. The cream of the crop.  Hmmm, maybe a place that does celebrity weddings? Oh my God! Duh, Charlie! As soon as I realize she is the answer, I send her a text.

Delilah: Hey, lady!

Charlie:  Hello, my friend.  What’s up?

Delilah:  Need a favor

Charlie: Anything for u!

Delilah:   I need a cake place
to cater for the charity ball.  The best.  1 that all the celebs use

Charlie:  Hmmm. 
Delectable Desserts on 5
th
ave.  Across from Saks

Delilah:
Thank u!  IOU  : )

Charlie:
It may be hard to get an appt.  I hear he is not easy to work with, but is the best

Delilah:
Ok, thx!  I will call right now

Charlie:
Ok, let me know what happens. Ttyl

Delilah:
Bye!

She wasn’t kidding.  Just after I finished
texting with Charlie, I Google Delectable Desserts and give them a call.   I speak to Donna, who is the assistant, but I know from the website that I need to make the appointment with Fronk.

“Sorry, honey, he only works with celebrity couples,” she tells me
when I try to make an appointment.

“What? Really?  Well, Nick, um, he is a
very well known, high profile attorney.  He has defended some of the most notorious criminals,” I squeak out, trying to come up with something that she will accept to give me an appointment.

“And you are his…” she pauses, waiting for my response.

“Fiancée?” I lie.  Shit, shit, shit! Nick is going to kill me.

“Well, in that case, dear, why didn’t you say?
”

“Sorry, it’s just a very…recent…sudden…” I stutter, unable to finish the sentence.  Damn, I am such a bad liar!

Donna chuckles and it’s a good thing that we are on the phone, because my cheeks are rosy and sweat is dripping down my back.  How am I going to explain this to Nick?  I guess I really don’t have to.  Nobody has to know really, right?

“
Usually Fronk is booked up months ahead, but lucky you, he has a cancellation!  He is available this Friday at 1:00 pm.  We will see you two lovebirds then.”

“Wait!  Oh, no, no, no, Donna.  Nick is a very busy man.  It will
be just me.” I dance around the issue. Holy crap, I am freaking out.

“Sorry, hun.  Fronk only takes appointments with
couples.  He wants to make sure everybody is happy. Do you want to check Nick’s schedule and get back to me?  Just know I can’t guarantee the slot will still be open.”

“
No, that’s okay, Donna. We will be there. I will make sure of it.”

“
Okay, dear. Looking forward to meeting you two.”

“You as well. Goodbye.”

I hang up and slouch into my chair. I am flushed, sweating, and now sick to my stomach for lying.  I know it isn’t a horrible lie, but still a lie nonetheless.  I tell myself it is for the children and try to compose myself. How the hell am I going to convince Nick to go with me?  Oh, what a tangled web we weave…

♫♩♫♩♫♩
♫

As the work piles up, my days seem to blur together.  It is Friday morning already, and I haven’t had the chance to plan a date with Delilah this week - rule number three.   I have gotten into the office early every day this week, trying to get work done before she gets here.  It seems as though as soon as she is within reaching distance, I am completely distracted.  I can probably tell you what she wore every day, but I can’t remember the most important details of the cases I am working on.

I glance up at her out the windowed wall, and even in her professional wear, she is stunning. I told her to start dressing more casual on Fridays, and I worried for a
minute because last time I told her to dress down she was a hot mess; but today, she looks spectacular and tantalizing and I can’t concentrate – a reoccurring theme. She is wearing a red wrap dress that drapes across her cleavage perfectly.  And, instead of heels, she has on wedges, the heels looking like cork. How do women walk in those things?  I can’t help staring.  The things she does to me…and makes me want to do to her.

I shake my head and remind myself why I was looking at her in the first place, trying to grab her attention.   She catches my eyes, and I wink. She smiles, and shakes her head.  I signal her to come into my office, giving her the head nod. We are so in sync,
nonverbals are all we need to communicate most days.

“Hey there, Delilah,” I say, but have now started to almost sing it. Have to change it up some. Don’t want to be
come boring.

“Hi, B
oss.  What can I do for you?” she asks.  And for the second time, I find myself completely turned on by the sound of that. Damn, I am going to have to get her to call me that in bed.

“I notice
d while reviewing my schedule this morning that I have no meetings this afternoon.  I thought maybe we could cut out early and have that date I owe you.”

“Oh…um…yeah…about that,” Delilah stutters, confusing me.

I notice that all of a sudden her face flushes.  She is picking at her nail polish, not meeting my eyes. 

I get up from behind my desk and take a seat in the chair next to her.  “Everything
okay, Doll?  What’s wrong?” I ask, beginning to worry a little.

“I kind of finagled your schedule a little bit so that you would be free all afternoon,” she says nervously, “please don’t be upset.”

“I’m not upset.  Look at me. I am not mad. But why?”

Delilah finally meets my eyes, and I can see the worry in them.  “I thought maybe I can take you out?”

I lean my head back and bark out a laugh.  Why is she so nervous to ask me out? She has to know that she owns me. “Of course!  I would love that!  What do you have in mind?”

She laughs in relief when she sees my reaction and hears my response. I can physically see her body relax. “I have something in mind.  I will tell you more later. Get back to work,” she orders me and I can’t help but smile. We stare at each other briefly before returning to work, but I can’t resist her mouth, so I lean in and capture her lips for a quick, but passionate kiss.

♫
♩♫♩♫♩
♫

Mission accomplished. I got Nick away from work, and we are in his car - oh my God, how sexy is this car? – and on our way to Delectable Desserts. Only he doesn’t know that yet. I give him the address, and he pulls out of the parking garage, heading to Fifth Avenue.  Even though our office is not too far, with Friday afternoon traffic, it may take a little longer than usual to get there.  Perfect time for me to bare my soul. Purge my sins. Cop to the lie.

“So? Where are we headed?” he asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

I just stare at his profile for a couple beats.  Damn, he is magnificent! Every time I look at him like this – carefree and at ease – I am reminded of how much I care about him. How much I want him.   How much I want him to want me. “Promise me that no matter what I say, you will not turn this car around.”

“Delilah, where are we going?”

“Promise me, Nick.”

He takes a deep breath and agrees. “Fine, I promise. Now tell me.
”

Now it’s my turn to take a deep breath. I blow it out and decide to spit out the whole story. I look stra
ight ahead, afraid if I look into his gorgeous greens, I will chicken out.  Not to mention the fact that I am humiliated for putting us in this position. Oh, and let’s not forget that I lied to get us into said position.

“So, I went to like a gazillion dessert and cake shops. Trying out different desserts, tasting a buttload of cake – literally.  They were all
okay, I guess, but nothing great. And I want great.  I want fantastic.  I want… I want… spectacular!” I shout.

I take a chance and glance over at Nick.  He appears to be amused by my story telling skills so far, so I continue, even though he hasn’t commented yet. 

“Anyway, I ran out of options. Well, at least I thought I did.  Then I remembered that Charlie has connections to this kind of stuff. So she gave me the name of a place. Delectable Desserts.”

I take a breath, waiting for a response. Something. Anything. “
Okay?”  Is all he gives me.

“That’s where we are going.”  

Nothing.

“To a celebrity wedding cake shop.”

Nothing.

“To taste all kinds of sweet, sugary, delicious, cavity inducing, orgasm in your mouth desserts
,” I say excitedly.

Nick chuckles, finally! I am not
sure if it is at my description, or at my excitement, but as I turn to look at him, his eyes look heavy, full of lust. “Orgasmic, huh?” he asks like an adolescent.

I can’t help but grin at his juvenile comment. “Get your mind out of the gutter, mister,” I reprimand.

Nick grins even wider, and my heart flops around in my chest. I am a goner.  “So, what you are telling me is that we are going out on a date… spending time together…tasting delicious cakes, desserts, and pastries… all while I get to watch you have an orgasm in your mouth…in public?  And you were afraid to tell me this, why?” he asks in jest, but knowing he wants a real answer.

“There’s a little more to it,” I add, wincing.

“By the look on your face, I am not sure I want to know.”

“
Okay, let’s not worry about it then,” I try.

“Delilah…” he sneers.

“Okay, fine. So, apparently this guy that we have an appointment with, Fronk…”

He interrupts and looks at me. “You mean Frank?” he asks with a snicker.

“No, his name is Fronk,” I grumble, nodding my head in a “yes” motion.

“Frank?” he asks again.

I know he understands me, I know he is fucking with me. But I am so on edge from avoiding telling him all week that I repeat myself a little louder than I normally would have.

“
Fronk, Nick. The guy’s name is Fronk. FR- ah-NK. Fronk.” I enunciate, waving my arms around.

“His name is Frank. I am not calling him Fronk.” He looks at me again,
his lips curling slightly at the corners.

I let out a sigh, completely exasperated. I look at him and he is laughing so hard he can’t breathe.

“What? What’s so funny?” I huff, slapping my hand on my thigh.

“I just realized something,” he says
during the breaths he takes, still laughing his ass off.

I start laughing to, but I have no idea why. “Are you gonna share?”

“His name is Fronk…”  I think he is going to pee in his pants.

“Yeah.  That’s what I have been trying to tell you.”

“Like the wedding planner on
Father of the Bride…”
Still laughing.

“Oh. My. God.”

Nick and I look at each other and just continue laughing.  We are having so much fun that I almost forgot that I still haven’t told him the
thing.
You know, the whole engagement thing.

It takes about ten more minutes
to get to the shop, and Nick pulls up to the valet in front of Saks.  I give him a questioning look, and he tells me that while we are here, after the tasting, he needs to run into Saks and pick up his tuxedo for the ball. I just shrug an okay, makes sense.

But before we get out of the car, I have to tell him.  I pull up my big girl panties, turn toward him, and grab both of his hands in mine.  I have no idea how he is going to react to what I need to tell him.

“Nick, before we go in, I need to finish telling you what I started before we got sidetracked with Fronk.”

He snickers when I say Fronk’s name, but I think he knows I am not kidding because he nods his head. “
Okay, go ahead, LaLa. I am listening,” he says supportive as usual.  How can one man be so perfect?

No pressure.  Here goes nothing.  “So, this guy we have an appointment
with, Fronk…” I pause giving him a chance to snicker, but he doesn’t.  He is listening attentively. “…He is supposed to be the best of the best.  And that’s I want.  For the charity. For you.”  I look into his eyes for courage and see exactly what I need, so I continue.  “He only meets with celebrities… or high power professionals, in your case.  Anyway, he has one other requirement. They must be engaged.” I look into his eyes to see if he is picking up what I am putting down, but then look away. Embarrassed.

He doesn’t say anything for what feels like forever. I open my mouth to apologize, but shut it as soon as I realize he is speaking. “So, let me get this
straight,” he says emphatically. He takes his forefinger, places it gently under my chin, forcing me to look at him.  “We are going out on a date… spending time together…tasting delicious cakes, desserts, and pastries… all while I get to watch you have an orgasm in your mouth…in public…and all I have to do is pretend to be engaged to a beautiful, charming, vivacious…perfect…woman?” he asks rhetorically. My eyes widen at his response, then well with tears of bliss.

“You’re not mad?” I ask, dazed and confused.

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because I
kinda got you here under false pretenses,” I mumble.

Nick shakes his head in disbelief.
“Delilah, while I’m not thrilled that you didn’t just tell me upfront what we’re doing, I can’t be mad at you for helping me. For helping the children. I…think…you’re…wonderful.”  He says that last part very slowly, pecking me on the lips in between each word, and I am in heaven.

I look him dead in the eye
s, and all I can see is adoration. I put my hand up to caress his cheek, and he leans into it.  My heart sings, and a shit-eating grin lightens my face.  I feel like a weight has been lifted, and I am ready to enjoy my date. If I remember correctly, I still owe him from that whole zoo episode. Turnabout is fair play.

“
Okay, let’s go, Boss.” I say excitedly, knowing what I have planned for him.

“Let’s go, fiancée,” he responds with a wink and a kiss on the nose.

From your lips to God’s ears.