You're Still the One Page 3

  “Not bad at all.”

  He looked out of the window at the empty streets.

  “Next time, I should make some time for you in the morning. It looks unsafe out there. Did you drive here?”

  “I borrowed Kat’s car.”

  He pulled the blinds over the window.

  “Was it hard to find this place?”

  “A bit.”

  “We’re planning to move. If the Johns Hopkins deal works out, we can get a bigger office.”

  “Johns Hopkins, the university?” She stretched out her legs over the couch. It had been a smart decision to wear a no-fuss tee and jeans under the outrageous coat. Anything more would have been too dressy. Sometimes, agonizing over your outfit for two hours paid off.

  “The very same. They’re interested in our technology. Once we have their stamp of approval, other universities might follow suit. This could be huge for the company.”

  “That’s great.” Good to know that her potential boyfriend wasn’t going to drown in debt anytime soon.

  Andrew walked up to the electric kettle and set the water on boil, ripping open a cup of instant noodles. He reached out for wooden chopsticks and got two pairs. “Instant noodles is all I can offer you today. Which flavor would you like?”

  “I’m not hungry. I ate a lot for dinner.”

  “What did you eat?”

  “Steak. Kat took me out to dinner because she was in a good mood.”

  He exhaled. “Sounds luxurious. It’s been a long time since I ate proper food like that. For the last year and a half, I’ve been subsisting on a diet of instant noodles. All part of the startup life, I guess.”

  He sounded tired. Ashley wanted to tell him that if he got a job he could eat proper food every day.

  “Do you wish you didn’t have to make these sacrifices?”

  “It’s not really a sacrifice. It’s a lifestyle. And instant noodles kinda grow on you once you’ve been eating them for long enough.” He mixed up the stuff in the plastic cup with his chopsticks and pulled out a string of noodle.

  “So how long will this supply of noodles last?” Ashley asked, looking at the tens of containers.

  “Not very long. I’m not the only one eating them. My business partner—Drew—has an insane appetite. He eats five cups a day. I share this office with him.” Andrew paused to chew. “But today, I had him vacate this place early so we could have some privacy on our first date. I wanted to set something up here, but then the call from Johns Hopkins came in and you were here before I had a chance to.”

  Electric guitar riffs popped out of nowhere inside the tranquil room. It was his phone ringing. She hadn’t pegged him as a rock music loving guy, but she was glad to see that he was. He abandoned the noodle cup in his hand and grabbed his phone from the desk.

  “Mind if I take the call? I’ll make it quick. It’s Drew.”

  “Sure.”

  Ashley looked around some more while Andrew excitedly conveyed the details of the possible deal. His hands flew around and he became so wrapped up that a bead of sweat appeared over the crook of his neck.

  This company and its success must mean a great deal to him. Seeing him so passionate about his work was making her feel insecure about her own lack of vocation. Ashley checked the mail on her Android to distract herself from her less-than-desirable feelings.

  No new emails.

  A sinking feeling took hold of her. She didn’t know why she let every rejection, every lack of response do this to her—make her despondent and pessimistic.

  Her self-esteem, her place in society hinged on what she did with her career. It was the only way she had of making her mark in the world. Without a career, who was she?

  “I’m really sorry. You came out here all the way to see me and I’ve been ignoring you.” Andrew pulled a chair opposite her and resumed his noodle-eating. “So I’m quite curious to know more about the stranger who kissed me so passionately last night. I hope you’re always that forthright because I found it very refreshing. Let’s just say I’m an impatient guy.”

  “I thought men like making the first move.”

  “They do; but what they like even more is when a woman has the confidence to do it.” He tossed the empty plastic container into the trash can. “But that aside, I hardly know anything about you except that I’m wildly attracted to you.”

  “What do you want to know about me?” She leaned closer to him.

  “Everything,” His breath stroked her skin seductively. “But let’s start with whatever you’re willing to reveal.”

  “I’m a business graduate. Currently unemployed. Single child. My parents live in Greenport. My mom’s a teacher and Dad is… was… a hairdresser. I guess I’ve had a really boring life.”

  That was the most dry and uninspiring intro. Even her resume read better.

  So she could forgive Andrew’s lack of excitement.

  “Tell me something I can’t find out using Facebook or LinkedIn. Things you like. Things you hate. Your eccentricities.”

  “I hate reptiles, rain and rudeness. I like hugs. Hugging is my favorite thing to do.”

  “Is that a cue for me to hug you now?” He swept her with his roguish smile.

  “It could be.”

  His arms closed around her body and she was swathed in his masculinity. A whiff of perfume from his chest relaxed her.

  “Why do you like hugging?”

  “Because it makes me feel connected to people. I can feel their warmth. I can hear their heartbeat. Yours is faster than normal.”

  “Might have something to do with being so close to you.” He kissed her forehead gently. It was unexpected… and tingly.

  “Or you could have tachycardia. Better get yourself checked,” she joked.

  “It’s our first date and you’re already worrying about my health? I stay away from cholesterol-rich food, so I think I’m going to be all right.”

  “Thank goodness.” She giggled and then climbed up his chest with her gaze. “Tell me something about you. What do you love? What do you hate?”

  “I love your blue eyes.” She shivered at the way he looked into her, absorbed her, like she was the center of his universe.

  “That’s not something about you; it’s something about me.”

  He took her fingers in his and brushed his lips over them. “Okay. Here’s the weirdest thing about me—I have a fetish for nice fingers. It was the first thing I noticed about you, by the way.” His teeth closed over her index finger and a spark shocked her. To have her fingers between his teeth was strangely erotic. “Yours are soft and firm and so tasty.”

  “You make them sound like tofu.”

  He laughed, sinking his teeth further in. “No, they are more delicious than tofu.”

  “You know you’re the first person to compliment my fingers? My piano teacher used to tell me they were too stubby.”

  “You piano teacher doesn’t seem to have a discerning taste for fingers.” Ashley couldn’t help a smile from stretching her lips. Andrew moved his teeth and surveyed her fingers against the light from the lamp on his desk. “You have really clean nails. Ultra-clean.”

  “Don’t tell me you have OCD? Because then we’re in trouble. I’m the messiest person alive.”

  “As long as your fingers remain clean, I can ignore the rest.” At her surprised expression, he elaborated, “Yeah, I know it sounds freaky. I have a bad case of finger obsession.”

  “I’ve never dated anyone with that particular ailment before. I need to take special care of my fingers from now on. Any other parts you’re obsessed with that I should know about?”

  “All of you, actually.”

  “Mmmmm, that’s naughty.”

  “It is, isn’t it? Now you know my darkest secret.” She felt his fingers on her lower back. It jerked her senses awake, and a slow burn coiled around her groin.

  “That is your darkest secret?”

  “Yes. Not a lot of people know about my finger fetish. It
is not a commonly accepted fetish, unlike a shoe fetish. Just so we’re even, I think I should know about your secret too.” He poked her with his finger.

  “Mmmmm, let me think. You know, last night was the fourth kiss of my life.” She blushed all the way up to the roots of her hair saying that. It was embarrassing to admit it.

  “You didn’t seem like a novice, though. You have really smooth delivery.”

  “It’s a natural talent, I guess.” She put on a confident demeanor. Fake it till you make it—she was a firm adherent to that philosophy.

  “A good one to have.” He leaned back against his chair. “Definitely beats stuff like singing and piano playing.”

  “I wish Mrs. Lim, my piano teacher, had thought that way. It would have saved me a lot of hours of playing Chopin and getting no better at it.”

  “It takes a connoisseur to appreciate a talent like that.” He picked up a pen from the table and tucked it into his pocket.

  “Do you have any natural talents?” Ashely asked.

  “Staying up for twenty-four hours. Does that count?” Behind him, the clock flashed the time. One-thirty. It was late. Ashley felt the tiredness tug at the muscles in her eyes. She was usually asleep by this time. Noting that Andrew looked energetic and not in the least sleepy, she tried to push her eyelids up.

  “It’s not exceptional enough.” she shook her her head.

  Andrew rubbed his chin, ponderingly. “Oh. When I was in middle school, I managed to get Fs in every subject for two years in a row. How’s that?”

  “Your mom must have been so proud of you.” She narrowed her eyes.

  That brought his gregariousness down a notch instantly. “I don’t have a mom. I mean, I have one, but I’ve never seen her. My parents divorced when I was three. I’ve lived with my dad ever since.”

  “I’m sorry.” Ashley said, resisting the strong urge to pull him into her arms and comfort him. “Don’t you have a step-mother?”

  “I did, at one point. But she lasted barely a year.” Andrew pressed on his mop of brown hair.

  Ashley inched nearer to him. “You must be close to your dad, then.”

  “We can’t tolerate each other for more than five minutes, if that.” His voice was a strained rasp. There was something there. Something deep.

  “I had nasty arguments with my parents when I was a teen, too,” she confessed.

  Hers had been outbursts of rebellion, which were part and parcel of growing up, but they had not fractured her relationship with her parents majorly.

  “Our animosity goes beyond that level.” A faint anger rolled from his tongue.

  Ashley didn’t push him further on the topic, but she couldn’t keep herself from imagining what the reason for his anger was.

  As he turned his head to the ceiling and took a few deep breaths, she looked down and caught the glow of the midnight lamp from the crack under the door.

  “You have very hardworking employees. They’re still working.” She remarked.

  “I pick them carefully. I need industrious staff to keep the business afloat.”

  Said like a business owner, she thought.

  “You thought I had the ability to work that hard?”

  “Am I wrong?” There was not a moment’s hesitation. He had more faith in her than she had in herself.

  To be fair, she’d worked hard during college. She’d burned the midnight oil before essay submission deadlines and taken all the challenging classes. She liked pushing herself to grow.

  Her mood nosedived as she started to wonder whether all those hours in university would ever amount to anything. She’d been unemployed since July. It was more than six months already. With every passing day, the economy was getting worse. Youth unemployment was rising. How was she ever going to get a job?

  Ashley clenched her fist. The grimness of her employment situation could send her into a mini-depression with startling predictability.

  “Is something bothering you?” Andrew touched her forehead, which made her snap out of her self-induced trance.

  “It’s nothing,” she shrugged. There was no need to spoil her date with Andrew by complaining about the economy.

  “I know that look. I’ve seen it on the face of too many of my classmates. Got rejected by an employer?”

  Her silence cemented her agreement more clearly than any words she could have said.

  “My offer of employment still holds if you want to work sixteen-hour days. No weekends off.”

  “It’s tempting, since I’d get to spend my whole day with you.” That got a grin from him. “But I don’t think I can work that hard after living the life of a couch potato for seven months. And I want to work in finance, not tech.”

  Light flickered in his silver irises, like he was pondering over the possibility of something, before he dismissed it. “I wish you all the best then.”

  If only all wishes could come true.

  She yawned, involuntarily. Drowsiness was catching up to her. “Sorry.”

  He ruffled her hair. “I’m surprised you’ve managed to stay awake for so long. I’d expected your eyelids to start drooping sooner.”

  “I thought I could fight it, but I guess I can’t. Can I sleep over here?” She rested her head on one arm of the sofa and swung her legs over the other arm.

  “My apartment’s not far, you know.” Andrew said.

  All the hair on her body stood up. So they were at this uncomfortable topic already. “I’m not having sex with you yet, Andrew. Our relationship is too new. I don’t blame you for thinking I’m a slut after last night, but I’m not. That wasn’t me. I’m very prudish, actually.” He was gorgeous, funny and engaging, but that was not enough reason to have sex with him. Sex needed something else—trust.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. The office is really uncomfortable and there’s no space to sleep. But I’m glad I got to know your views on first-date sex.”

  Ashley cringed inwardly. “It’s an awkward topic, isn’t it?”

  “An essential one, though.”

  She shifted her head, and her neck bumped against something hard. Sleeping on the couch was indeed uncomfortable.

  “I’d sleep at home, but I don’t want to drive alone at this hour. But if you’re dropping me, I’ll go.”

  “How can I refuse when you ask me so nicely?” he said, mimicking Hugh Grant’s British accent.

  “That’s a good imitation.”

  “I was in drama club in high school. For three days.”

  Rising from the couch, she got to her feet and shook the lethargy out of them. “Why did you quit? You’d have made a great actor. And I could have been dating a celebrity.”

  With his photogenic face and natural charisma, he was Hollywood material all the way.

  “I’m flattered you think so highly of my acting skills.” He bent over the drawers, opened one and retrieved his car keys. “Let’s go.”

  A sense of déjà vu shook her the moment she entered his car. The kiss… the memories… they inflamed her.

  “Getting used to riding around in my Accent?” he asked, trying to find a station playing good music. “What kind of music do you like?”

  “Jazz. And rock.”

  “I like jazz too. I’m happy we have similar musical tastes. I hate couples who argue about what to listen to. Sucks all the romance out of a drive.” Andrew pressed the buttons on the car stereo, until the sensual tones of Julie London’s ‘You and the night and the music’ played out.

  Andrew sang along in a funny impersonation of the songstress, which made Ashley laugh. Oh, God, it felt so good to laugh. She hadn’t laughed this much since graduation. She sang along too, throwing her insecurities about her vocal ability to the wind. She ended the song with flourish, holding the long note at the end. Her voice cracked and was terribly breathy, but whatever, she was having fun.

  “After the night and the music die, will I have you?”

  The last line faded, but the question still lingered.


  Chapter 3

  11th March, 2008

  Andrew muttered curses at his ringing phone. It was the middle of the night, for chrissake. This was the first night all week he’d gone to sleep at eleven, which by his standards was pretty darn early, and he had been hoping to enjoy the lengthy make-up slumber.

  Until someone had decided to call him at this ungodly hour.

  Groggy, he lifted his eyelids just enough to press the green button on the phone screen. He rubbed his eyes. His vision was too blurry to read the number flashing on his screen.

  “Hi, Andrew, it’s Dr. Liu.”

  Hearing that injected him with a shot of adrenaline and he pushed himself out the couch.

  Dr. Liu was in charge of IT systems and the person he had been in talks with about licensing their software to Johns Hopkins. Andrew’s pulse hummed in anticipation of the news that Dr. Liu had managed to get the approval from his higher-ups to make the purchase. Why else would Dr. Liu call him at—the second-hand digital clock on his desk said it was eight—it was morning already?

  “Hi, it’s Andrew. Sorry, I’m a bit out of it.”

  There was a pregnant pause. “Are you Carl Smith’s son?”

  Andrew couldn’t fight off the drowning feeling in his stomach. Nothing good could follow the mention of his father’s name.

  “Yes, but that shouldn’t be any problem for the deal. He is not affiliated with Dracosys in any way.” he assured, in the confident tone he’d managed to perfect.

  The awkward cough at the other end punctuated the news Dr. Liu was about to deliver. “That’s not the problem. The thing is… your father is a very influential man. He’s donated a lot of money to the university and… he requested a personal favor from the provost. I’m sorry, but I don’t think that we’ll be able to work with Dracosys.”

  Of course. The pieces came together like a completed jigsaw. The old boys’ club. Carl and the provost were pals. They’d known each other since high school. Andrew slapped his head. He shouldn’t have forgotten how deep Carl’s connections ran.

  “He recommended us to take a look at Holland Technologies,” Dr. Liu continued, discomfort barely concealed.