Page 14 of Rejection Overruled

“Thanks for a lovely evening, Mr. Styles. See you for that Dennison hearing tomorrow.”

“That’s it?” I blurted without realizing it.

“What do you mean?” she frowned.

I stepped close to her as she reached out to open her door. My body brushed hers and the weirdest thing happened. A wave a current ran through me. That response to touching her shocked me.

“I mean, you challenged me and now it seems you’re the one running away.”

Twirling to face me, she looked into my eyes. “Mr. Styles, the only reason I challenged you was because you were running from a blind date without giving it a chance. Now the date is over.”

“That’s just one date, Miss Owens,” I challenged. “You had your turn, now it’s mine. Unless, of course, you’re chicken.”

She stepped close to me and I waited to see if what I felt earlier was a fluke or not. My heart skipped a beat as I felt a strange pull.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked, her voice low and husky.

“A movie and dancing afterward, that is if you aren’t afraid of me.”

“You’re on,” she murmured.

She brought her face close to mine. I was taken aback by the sheer rush of pleasure that coursed through me. We faced each other and I swore I thought she was about to kiss me. Her soft sweet perfume wafted up to me and I inched closer to her. The warmth of her breath brushed my lips, enticing me.

I dived in for the kiss but she sidestepped me and I found myself kissing air. She was seated in her car and starting the engine when I realized what I almost did. Clearing my throat, I involuntarily straightened my tie. I didn’t want her to think I wanted the kiss, so I grinned slyly, hoping she would take it that I was bluffing.

Brooke Owens was something different and somewhere during the course of the evening, the need to prove her challenge had become an obsession.

12 - Brooke

This wasn’t revenge. I didn’t know what the hell it was, but I didn’t feel better after our date. I had no clue what I was doing. How did one take revenge by going on a date? What the hell was I thinking? Somehow, I knew I was out of my element here, but the thought of getting back at him was more intense than my doubts. The only thing I could think of doing was seducing him, but there was a problem. I was not his type. Not only was I too curvy for him, I knew I was a dominant woman who liked to be in control.

I returned home feeling that my evening was wasted. Kicking off my shoes, I headed straight to the kitchen and pulled a bag of fries from the freezer. Of all the food in the world, this was my one weakness. Some women when stressed binged on ice-cream or chocolate. For me it was fries.

I plugged in the electric fryer and poured in fresh safflower oil. Even though it was fried food, I told myself that cooking it with healthy oil would make it healthier – I knew better. While the oil heated, I went to change, my mind never once leaving my mission. After pulling on a pair of shorts and t-shirt, I poured myself a glass of chardonnay while waiting on the fryer to reach the desired temperature.

How was I to break through his cocky exterior in order to know what made him tick? Again, I had no idea. By the end of the date, I was no closer to my goal of revenge than I was fifteen years ago. If anything, I’d backed myself into a corner and his killer charm and powerful magnetism weakened me.

During dinner, every so often, our thighs would brush and I’d feel my stomach quiver. I knew I was horny and perhaps any man could seduce me right about then. But, Jamal wasn’t just any man. He was one of the most attractive men I knew. Underneath that suit was a body I knew to be ripped and toned. Yes, he wasn’t just any man. He was my high school crush whom I wanted to destroy but I had no clue how to do it.

With the fryer ready, I poured in the frozen fries and set it for fifteen minutes. I then went to the living room to await the buzzer. I was stumped if not anything else.

I, Brooke Owens, was an experienced lawyer with a 100% court win. I knew the ins and outs of the courtroom. I could talk my way out of any situation and solve any mathematical problem. I just didn’t know much about men, except jerks like my ex-husband, Kevin.

Yes, him again. That damn jerk I met the night Ron decided he didn’t need a girl who could win him in a drag race. Ron had asked me out and I said yes. We went to a movie and he wanted to show off his driving skills by inviting me to the drag run. After he won the race with Kevin, I challenged him and won. He was embarrassed but Kevin was impressed. Due to Ron sulking and acting like a dick, I left with Kevin, leaving Ron nursing his sore ego with his friends.

Ron, another prick whose ego was bigger than his ... I shook my head to get him out of my thoughts and back to Jamal. Now that I had a second date with Jamal, I knew I couldn’t let it go to waste. Was it at all possible to seduce him? I just had to try, knowing I might just fail.

Yet, after we left the restaurant and was in the parking lot, I boldly stepped close to him. His eyes had fixed on my lips as I made as though I was going to kiss him. In that moment, something flickered in his eyes and he leaned in for the kiss. Either Jamal was making fun of me or he was affected by me. I doubted the latter and I wasn’t about to let him win this game.

With my fries ready, I curled up on the sofa and turned on the TV. Not that I was interested in anything showing as I could not stop thinking about the date. Jamal didn’t seem bored. If anything, he appeared to have enjoyed our conversations. What was he trying to prove by asking for a second date?

Women had something that men didn’t have – their natural instincts. I would use mine to my advantage. My plan should include something that was sure to get Jamal’s jock strap into a knot. Maybe in the process, I’d have some sexy fun.

Our next date was four days away on the weekend. That gave me enough time to plan my next move. The Dennison hearing was tomorrow. That meant I would be seeing Jamal before our date. I’d have to think of something before that.

By morning I hadn’t a clue what I would do. It was time for the Dennison hearing and I was anxiously awaiting the lift in the courthouse building. As always, I’d arrived early to consult with my client about any last minute developments. Sheila Dennison called to say she was already at the courthouse and was waiting for me in the hallway in front of the courtroom.

The lift took forever to reach the ground floor and I was tempted to take the stairs. Finally it stopped and spewed out a handful of people. As I made my way in, someone also rushed in beside me. Somehow, I knew who it was by his strong presence, though my back was to him.

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