Poppy dropped by Felix’s office around lunchtime. Pausing in front of the closed door, a naughty smile began to sprout up. She plucked the first two buttons on her blouse open, revealing a hint of cleavage. Then she fluffed her hair, running her fingers through it to release a few tangles before entering.
“Hey, sexy,” she crooned. Felix sat behind his desk. His head lifted at the sound of her voice and his gaze skated over her, lingering on her chest. Grinning, Poppy sauntered toward him.
“Hey, yourself,” Felix rasped, pushing his chair back to allow her to slip in between him and the desk.
Gathering the tight hem of her pencil skirt, she tugged the fabric higher up her thighs so she could prop herself on the edge of the desk. She planted one of her heels in the triangle of space between his legs. “It’s lunchtime. What are you in the mood to eat?” she asked with a suggestive lift of her eyebrow.
Taking the bait, Felix wrapped both large hands around her ankle and smoothed them up her calves. He leaned in and kissed the inside of one thigh. “You know what I’m hungry for,” he said in a husky voice as he looked up at her through thick, dark lashes.
Poppy felt her insides turn molten at the heated look he was giving her. Gripping the edge of the desk, she titled her body back and opened her legs wider. “Then come get it.”
Rolling his chair closer, Felix pressed hot, wet kisses against the sheer thigh-high stockings she wore. When he reached the laced edge of one, his tongue drew wet patterns across her flesh. Poppy shivered. Her core tightened, burning with need, and she let out a soft moan.
Standing, Felix planted himself between her legs and worked his way up her body, kissing her sweetly through her clothes. When he reached the open V of her blouse, he drew back and watched as his fingers dipped inside and traced the cups of her red lace bra.
“Rain check,” Felix muttered.
Her brows drew together. “What?”
Drawing her hips closer so the hard ridge of his cock pressed against her, Felix gave her a regretful look. “I can’t do lunch today. I have to run.” Poppy’s frown deepened, and Felix bent to kiss her lips in an attempt to chase it away. “Why don’t you catch up with the girls and have lunch with them today.”
That was all she had been doing lately. As much as she loved their time together, frankly, she was sick of seeing their faces. She wanted to spend her lunch with Felix, had been looking forward to it all day, and he was ditching her. “What’s so important that we can’t have lunch together?” she questioned.
“Important business stuff. Nothing to worry about.”
Well, that didn’t make her worry at all. Could he be any vaguer…or suspicious? Irritated, anxious, and worried—what the hell was going on?—Poppy began buttoning her blouse. “Fine, lunch with the girls, again,” she said snippily. “Should be fun.”
“Hey.” Hooking his finger under her chin, Felix tilted her head back to look at him. “I’m sorry. I know you’re disappointed. I’ll make it up to you, though, okay?”
Poppy stared into his obsidian eyes, searching for deception, but all she saw was the same earnest, honest, beautiful man she had fallen head over ass for. She deflated a little. If this relationship was going to stand a chance, she had to stop seeing red herrings flopping around every corner.
Jimmy had done a real number on her, what with the lying and the cheating, and the more she committed herself to this relationship, the more she realized the truth of that. She thought she had left her baggage by the wayside a long time ago, but there were times—like these—that she realized she hadn’t so much as left them behind as stored them away in the back of the closet. Trust was harder than it looked.
With a tight smile, Poppy nodded. “I’m going to hold you to that,” she swore. Curling her fingers in the front of his shirt, she pulled him down to give him a kiss.
“A promise is a promise,” Felix said against her lips, the pulled away to check the time. “I gotta take off before I’m late. See you at home tonight?”
Poppy stumbled as she stepped down from his desk. “You’re not coming back after lunch?” she asked with a puzzled frown.
Straightening his tie, Felix reached for the suit jacket hanging off the back of his chair and pulled it on. “I have a feeling this one is going to take a while,” he said with a small grimace. Turning his back to her, he started shutting down his computer. “So I’ll see you at home?”
She couldn’t help it. His behavior struck her as odd. Maybe she was just reading too much into it? Shaking her head, Poppy agreed. “See you at home.”
***
“Speak of the devil.”
Poppy smiled as she dropped her purse on the table and sat down in the only available chair. “Hello, hello,” she said cheerfully. As upset as she had been earlier about Felix breaking their lunch date, the moment she set foot in the tiny bistro and saw her girls seated around the table, she couldn’t repress her smile. They just had a way of lifting her spirits.
“Okay,” Piper said, holding her hands out in front of her. “Settle this for us. Felix,” she stated dramatically. “How much does he weigh?”
A curious frown formed. “Uhhhh…one-eighty?” Poppy said, posing it as a question.
“Wet or dry?” Shelia asked seriously.
“Dry?”
“Booyay!” Shelia exploded from her seat, pointing at each of the women in turn. “Loser. Loser. Loser. Lahoo-zuh-her! Pay up.”
“What the heck is going on?” Poppy asked as she watched each of the women dig into their purses and hand over five dollar bills.
Shelia wore a Cheshire size grin on her face as she counted out the money. Poppy looked to Piper in askance.
“Oh, we were just betting how much muscle each of our guys is made out of. Shelia cleaned us out.” She directed an amused glare at their friend.
“She should work for a circus,” Jules grumbled, snapping the metallic closure on her purse together.
Shelia’s head came up, and she grinned wickedly. “Would you like me to guess your weight next?”
“You do, and the next time you ask me to wax your eyebrows, you won’t have any left when I’m through.”
Sheila raised both brows—a taunting gesture to be sure. “I think the most important question here is why the hell Poppy is here?” Whipping her head around to look at her, Shelia propped her elbows on the table and leaned in. “Shouldn’t Felix have you bent over a table somewhere?”
The thing about Sheila, she had no filter. None whatsoever. Any thought to cross her mind was immediately purged through her mouth, which Poppy didn’t think was ever closed. She was abrasive, rude, crude, and at times, downright hilarious. She never thought she would find herself getting along with someone like her, but Sheila was the kind of person that grew on others.
Poppy shrugged, masking the niggling of hurt with indifference. “Felix had a meeting or something. Important business,” she said, repeating what he’d told her.
“Whatever that means.” Sheila rolled her eyes dramatically and snapped open a menu. Poppy followed suit. She hadn’t been very hungry on her way here, but now that she was surrounded by warm, tantalizing aromas of fresh baked bread, herbs, and spices, she was ravenous.
“What meeting?” Piper asked. “I thought the boys were going golfing this afternoon?”
Slowly, Poppy lowered her menu. “Golfing?” she asked, tilting her head.
Beside her, Lynn muttered something that sounded like ‘Oh, shit’ under her breath and slid lower on her chair with her face buried in her menu.
Piper’s expression would have struck her as comical had she not been so royally pissed off. “I mean…I thought…Didn’t Felix tell you?”
“That he was cancelling on me to go golfing? I must have missed that one.” Poppy bit the inside of her cheek to keep from shouting. That dirty bastard. She knew something was up. Why didn’t she listen to her instincts?
She laughed nervously. “Well, I’m sure he just didn’t want to hurt your feelings. You know how men are.”
The waiter chose that moment to walk up and take their orders. They each ordered a glass of wine. Poppy chose the House white to go with her Fettuccine Alfredo and side salad. As the women chatted about their perfect lives—ignoring the fact that she’d just been told her boyfriend had lied to her—Poppy did the only thing she could do: smile and pretend she was listening, while she silently stewed.
From what she picked up in her half-there state, Piper was in the midst of teaching her and Tate’s nearly eleven-month-old daughter to poo-poo on the potty. Christ, she hadn’t learned how to use a toilet until she was almost five. A sign of the times, or a severe delay, she had no clue. People were crazy. That’s how it went down in her book, anyway.
Lynn was happily man-free. She was a workaholic who proudly admitted to her disease. Then there was Jules, who was on-again, off-again with Jon’s friend, Travis. Her choice. Apparently, he was just too absorbed in himself and his work to notice she was alive unless he needed a trophy to accompany him to the latest rich person’s ball. She couldn’t blame the girl for her decision. She wasn’t much of an elbow-rubbing, ass-kissing woman either, but Jules could outpace her in the socialite category every day of the week without batting a pasted-on eyelash.
Then there was Shelia, who couldn’t stop complaining about her insatiable need for sex and Tom’s lack of drive. Or rather, his iron will. Poppy didn’t really understand the problem there. She would take a man who doted on her and had meaningful talks and didn’t lie to her about going golfing with the guys over sex any day.
Her thoughts snagged on Felix. Where was he right now? At the range, or somewhere else he’d failed to tell her about? She had a good mind to whip out her phone and text a confrontational message to him right then and now, but she knew that would only open the door for more potential lies. No, when she questioned him, she wanted to be looking him square in the eyes so she could read his reaction. There was no escape. No mercy. Just the cold hard truth. And by George, come hell or high water, she would have her truth.
Once the meals arrived, Poppy tried to distract herself with light banter. She didn’t want to dwell on the negatives, because there was nothing that she could do to resolve her situation at that moment. Eat and be merry, that was her motto. When lunch was over, the women hugged it out, and then went their separate ways. Not in the mood to return to an empty office, Poppy phoned in and let Vera, Bookish Temptations’ snooty, and ridiculously beautiful receptionist, know that she was going home for the day.
The grocery store was her next stop. She planned to make a nice, home cooked meal. She envisioned setting out the good China and having a chilled bottle of merlot on the table. Maybe even a little candlelight and a little Anita playing the background.
Oh, Felix. The lengths he drove her to.
Seduction could be a bitch, as he would soon find out, because he wasn’t getting off easy tonight.