Had Enough Read online

  I pulled the door to my office building open and smiled at Ria, who was sitting behind her desk, earpiece in, looking busy.

  “Hey, Ria. Any messages?”

  “A few, actually,” she replied, her tight raven curls bouncing as she looked my way. “I put them on your desk, along with a package that came late Friday after you’d already left.”

  “Oh, I love a good package.”

  I heard her laughing as I walked away. It had to be a good day if I’d made two people laugh already. And one guy on the train shit his pants. Those were good Monday morning stats, right?

  I walked through the office, noticing whose cubicles were empty and who had already arrived for the day. It was a toss-up on any given day on who I would see since we all rented space there for our own businesses. The building was a co-op and designed specifically for self-employed people like myself who needed office space to seem professional. I’d been running my own business before I concluded that I absolutely could not work from home because I never showered and I watched too much Netflix. I needed an office to go to, some sort of accountability. Plus, when clients wanted meetings, it was much more professional to give them a business address than to open my front door to them.

  The rent I paid for my office covered a lot of things, including Ria, the office’s shared receptionist. She was there full-time and acted as receptionist to all of us who rented in the office. I’d never heard of co-ops like this before, but had received a mailer at my home address offering a viewing of the space they had available and since I’d been sitting in my pajamas three days straight and on season four of Friends, I figured I should check it out.

  Three years later and I loved having an office downtown. It made me feel official, like I was successful—which I was—but it was hard to feel that way when you don’t leave your house for days at a time. Plus, I had work friends, which I’d been lacking before.

  Tim had the cubicle directly facing mine and if I stood up at my desk I could see into his space, and Amy was behind me. Luckily for us, all three of us had a great view of Pioneer Courthouse Square from our seats. And Nordstrom. I might have spent many a lunch hour shopping there.

  Everyone in the building was self-employed or working together in start-ups, so we all had the whole no boss thing in common, and it was fun. Sometimes the office was quiet with only the sound of Ria’s melodic voice answering calls and the tapping of fingers against keyboards, and other times we were all in the conference room playing Wii, kicking each other’s asses at bowling. It was, by default, a creative environment and everyone was there because they’d earned their place hustling and working hard.

  I placed my phone on my desk and my purse in the bottom drawer like always, then sifted through the messages Ria had placed on my desk. When I saw none of them were from Justin a wave of disappointment washed over me, followed quickly by shame. I shouldn’t be expecting him to contact me at work. As far as I knew, he had no idea where I worked anyway. Plus, I was trying hard to ignore him, so if he had managed to figure out where I worked, it would have annoyed me. Right? Right.

  The package was placed under my desk and when I pulled it up and opened it I had to contain my squeal of delight.

  Only silly women got excited over fabric samples. But they were so beautiful. I sat down and looked through every single one, feeling them, sometimes even smelling them, arranging two side by side, basically just losing my mind over tiny pieces of fabric. I probably would have spent more time ogling them had Tim and Amy not arrived.

  Together.

  I’d been watching them for a few weeks, trying to determine if the changes I was seeing between them were legit or if I was projecting upon them, hoping they’d hook up so I could focus on their relationship instead of my lack thereof.

  “Oh, new samples?” Amy asked, sounding almost as excited as I had been. “Which designer is this? That new trendy guy from San Fran?”

  “No, this is the modern woman from Manhattan. Sandrine.”

  “One name? Like Madonna?” she asked, still looking through the samples.

  “When you design furniture the way Sandrine does, you don’t need a last name.”

  “Touché,” she replied with a nod.

  “Does Sandrine,” Tim said with a sarcastic inflection, making Amy and me giggle, “design couches with coolers in the seat cushions for beer? Because that would be amazing.”

  “You lack vision,” I declared with a smile.

  “Better than lacking beer,” he grumbled.

  “What is it with guys and beer?” I asked Amy, even though I knew no one had an answer.

  She shrugged and laughed, but then I watched something snap into place in her brain and her eyes went wide.

  “How’d the surprise wedding go?”

  I’d been giving Amy the play-by-play for a few weeks when it came to all the surprises Camden had managed to pull off for Riley. Tim had all the information too, but only because he was lucky enough to sit right next to us. I also had an inkling that Amy was giving him even more updates post-coitally because I just knew they were having sex.

  I let a dreamy smile spread across my face as I thought about Riley and Cam saying their vows, looking lovingly into each other’s eyes, kissing like they loved each other more than anything in the whole wide world. Because that was the only way those two kissed each other.

  “It was beautiful. Riley was so happy. Oh, and, because Camden can’t ever just be a regular groom, he took her on a secret surprise honeymoon to Hawaii.”

  “No,” Tim said sharply from his desk, standing up and pointing his finger at me. “No. I’ve sat here for weeks listening to you tell stories about this mythical man creature who somehow manages to pull off the craziest and most romantic things and I can’t sit here and listen to it any longer. Someone needs to tell this Camden guy he’s ruining dating for the rest of us. This shit gets around and women talk. Soon I’m going to be expected to pull off grand romantic gestures just because. Fuck that shit.”

  He sat down with a harrumph, and I turned slowly and raised my eyebrows at Amy. She just frowned and shrugged.

  Suddenly Tim was standing again and both Amy and I had wide eyes.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I’m not angry with either of you. I’m not really angry. I just can’t take it that this guy is so perfect. It’s irritating. I can’t compete.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh and luckily Tim’s shoulders slumped a little and he looked like he wasn’t about to bite someone’s head off.

  “Camden’s definitely not perfect, but he does have some sweet moves.”

  “You don’t need grand romantic gestures, Tim,” Amy said, her voice a little too soft and sweet.

  My eyeballs were darting between them rapidly.

  “I’m sure you do just fine with the ladies.”

  I watched as a blush crept over her face.

  They were totally fucking. Maybe more.

  And even though I desperately wanted to know the extent of their relationship, I couldn’t focus on that. Not with everything that had happened between Justin and me. One relationship debacle at a time, please.

  My phone beeped and I heard Ria’s soft voice come through.

  “Hadley, you’ve got a call on line one.”

  “Thanks, Ria,” I called out, knowing she could hear me. I sat in my chair and moved the mouse on my computer, waking it up from its weekend nap, then answered the phone with my most professional voice.

  “Staged to Sell. This is Hadley. How can I help you?”

  “Um, hi, my name is Alice and my realtor Jenna Christenson gave me your number. She said you may be able to help us stage our house for the market.”

  “Hi, Alice,” I said, writing her name down on the pad of legal paper I kept by my phone for this exact reason. “I’m so glad Jenna referred you to me. Isn’t she great?”

  A sigh of relief came over the phone and I recognized that tension. Portland was a hot real estate market right now.
I was busier than I’d ever been. People were doing anything they could to squeeze every last dollar out of a house and staging it could set your house above the other houses on the market. Also, stage a house well and you could get even more money for it.

  “She’s been great so far, but we’re kind of in over our heads. We moved everything out of our house and painted the walls a neutral color, but now it looks boring. Jenna thinks we could ask for a bit more if it were staged.”

  “That’s typically very true. Can I ask what kind of house you’re selling and where it’s located?”

  Alice spent the next two minutes describing her house and I took copious notes. If I took her property on I would transfer those notes to my computer, but never before. I liked to work old-school. Some people carried around iPads, but I liked to work with pen and paper. If I visited a property I took photos on my phone. Then I created a file on my computer. It added a step, but I liked the process. I liked to be able to go over everything that extra time and make sure I was seeing the big picture, not losing anything or overlooking the minor details.

  When Alice finished I launched into my spiel.

  “That sounds great, Alice. There are a few ways we could move forward. Typically, I prefer to see the property in person to determine specifics. I’ll take measurements, photos, get a feel for the neighborhood and property, and then I can manifest a bid. Otherwise, and I do understand everyone is busy and selling a house is a big task, but I would require extensive photos and measurements to be sent via email. I can usually come up with a bid that way, but it will come with a cost window, instead of being finite amount. The consultation, however, is free of charge regardless of whether or not it’s in person.”

  “But you do have availability? You can fit us in?” She sounded relieved and that made me smile. It was my dream to have people asking me to decorate their houses as a favor to them. I got to play with a different canvas every single day and it was the best job ever.

  “I think I can definitely work you into my schedule.” Hell, the busier the better. Anything I could do to keep my mind off the shit show that was Vegas.

  “That’s such good news. I’m available whenever, so when would it work for you to stop by?”

  I pulled up my calendar on my computer and clicked on the new week. “I can do three o’clock today, or any time tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I am completely free tomorrow, so that’s perfect.”

  “How would four work for you?”

  We made the appointment and she gave me her address before we disconnected.

  “Not even nine in the morning and Hadley’s already bringing in new clientele,” Tim said teasingly.

  “Who would’ve thought five years ago that staging real estate would become the lucrative empire it is today?” I asked rhetorically.

  “Are you thinking about bringing anyone on board? A helping hand?” Amy asked.

  I shook my head. “No, not really. Since I make my own schedule I only take on enough work to keep me busy and it brings in enough money. Maybe one day, though.”

  “You’ll have to move out of this office for losers and move on to a grown-up building,” Tim said with a laugh.

  “Hey, we’re not losers. Quite the opposite in fact,” Amy argued.

  “Yeah, just because we don’t automatically fit into corporate America and fall in line with the IRA and the 401K and the nine-to-five, stamping the timecard, it doesn’t mean we’re losers.” I shrugged again. “We’re just misfits.”

  “I’ve worked for the man before and I’d much rather work for myself,” Amy added.

  “Hey,” Tim said, holding his hands up defensively. “You’re preaching to the self-employed choir.”

  “It’s not like either of you are doing too shabbily,” I mentioned.

  It was true. Amy and Tim were just as successful as I was, if not more so. Tim was a freelance writer and he dabbled in a little bit of everything. He had a prolific blog and made quite a bit on advertising money, which allowed him to do other things he really enjoyed. Amy was, wait for it, a career consultant, almost like a head hunter, except a little less intense. She coached people who were in between careers and helped them find permanent employment. She had connections all over the city and often boasted being able to get someone hired in their preferred profession within thirty days. We were all very different, but the thing we had in common was that we worked alone.

  There were quite a few other people in the building and the span of talent spread wide, but I wasn’t nearly as close to any of them as I was to Amy and Tim. And I suspected Amy and Tim were much closer than they wanted me to believe.

  Tim’s phone rang and he disappeared into his cubby and Amy gave me a smile.

  “Vegas was good then?”

  I put on a fake smile, hoping she couldn’t see the falseness of it. “Yup. Great.”

  “Good. You needed a stress-free weekend. And now your best friend is in Hawaii?”

  “Yeah, for two weeks. I’m housesitting for them too.”

  “Well, if you want to get together at all for happy hour or whatever, let me know.”

  “That would be awesome.” I smiled again, this time for real, and she turned back to her desk.

  The work day had to start at some point, I supposed.

  I was eating a taco from a food truck later that day when I got a text from Riley. It was a picture of just her bare legs with the bluest ocean water I’d ever seen in the background, complete with a drink in a coconut in her hand.

  **Miss you, Hads. Wish you were here.**

  I finished chewing my truck taco and let the initial wave of jealousy wash over me before responding. Riley was my best friend and I would never begrudge her a honeymoon, but a city bus just drove by and passed gas all over my lunch.

  **Aw, looks like you’re having a great time! I miss you too!**

  I backed out of the screen and was taken to the list of all my text messages. Justin’s name stood out to me, like always. He’d sent me a stupidly sweet text message after I’d escaped from his room the morning after our crazy Vegas night together, but I’d never answered him. In my defense, though, I had never responded to his text messages, so that was par for the course.

  **I hope you’re safe in your room. I wish you would have stayed or at least let me walk you back. See you at the airport.**

  Sweet Justin was somewhat of a new development. The first time we’d met, I was sitting across from him in a booth at some dive bar. He’d been just another bro, another frat guy turned corporate lawyer who I’d assumed had probably gotten the job because he had familial connections. He was drinking cheap beer and used his eyes to ravage every part of me. Now, all that being said, I was totally into him. Well, into the chase, I suppose.

  His eyes had said he wanted a physical connection and at the time I wasn’t opposed. I’ve never been opposed to lust-driven, single but intense sexual connections. One-night stands were my preferred method of dating. I could spend some time diving into my childhood or family history to try and figure out why I never wanted to commit to a man, but I didn’t ever have a desire to fix what I didn’t see as broken.

  I liked men. I liked sex. And I liked having sex with men on my terms. And those terms were usually very broad and loose. I didn’t require more than one date, I didn’t ask for any kind of commitment, and I definitely didn’t expect a call the next day.

  The thing with Justin was that even though there was that initial spark, that undeniable lust—which was mutual—I couldn’t jump right in with him like I usually would have. Our best friends were dating each other and I knew that meant I’d be seeing him with some sort of frequency. The last thing I wanted was to make things weird or difficult for Riley. I knew from their first kiss Camden was it for her, and I wanted nothing but the best for her and that included not fucking her boyfriend’s fuck hot bestie.

  So, we’d danced around each other for a few weeks, flirting shamelessly when we happened to see each other,
but everything had culminated one night at the gala Riley had planned for Camden’s mother.

  Chapter Four

  Justin

  Six Months Earlier

  I pulled at the black bow tie, which was currently trying to strangle me. I had to wear a tie to work, but this was a whole different monster. There wasn’t enough air getting to my brain and that, coupled with the loss of blood due to the erection I sported every time Hadley came around, was making me angry. I was agitated. Irritated. Grumpy as fuck.

  She’d waltzed into the gala, dress tight in all the best places, found my gaze, fucking winked at me, then proceeded to ignore me.

  Not that I’d made my way over to her, either.

  Hadley has always made it very clear that she wasn’t going to be the one to fall all over me, that if I wanted her I was going to have to chase her, take her. It was almost like she wanted me to know she didn’t need me, and it worked; I was very aware of the fact that she could take me or leave me at any moment. But with every passive look or infuriating wink, daring me to change her mind, I grew closer and closer to just grabbing her and kissing the hell out of her. The only thing stopping me was that I also knew that was exactly what she wanted—for me to break. She got off on waiting for me to snap. I was like a toy to her. At first that was a little off-putting, but the longer we did the same dance, the more I was willing to admit I could forgive her if she just let me in.

  I sipped my scotch, my gaze drifting through the room until it landed on her. I nearly growled at the sight of some other man’s hand on her hip as he leaned in close to allow her to whisper in his ear.

  Fuck. This.

  I downed the rest of my scotch and placed the empty glass on a waitress’s tray as I passed by her on my way to Hadley. I’d never felt as determined as I did marching toward her. I didn’t know if she felt it, if she could feel my intention as I crossed the room, but she turned and looked at me. Her eyes locked on mine and she was still as stone until I was within arm’s reach of her.