Page 6 of Kiss and Makeup
Chapter Three
Kristen
No. This can’t be right.
I stopped stock-still in the doorway of the coffee shop, forcing a family to part like streams of water as shock rendered me immobile. The father gave me a dark look, but seeing as I was suddenly in the middle of a crisis, I didn’t care.
My eyes swept left, then they swept right. College kids with backpacks, chatting couples, families with angry fathers—plenty of those sat around the windowed walls of the large shop. Not a suit to be found, nor a skirt, nor a dress.
Except one. A single suit existed in this coffee shop, and it belonged to a man I had expected never to see again.
Xavier Caruso sat alone in a window booth, looking as sharp as the knife that I felt tearing at my heart just at the sight of him. If anything, he’d somehow gotten even more handsome since our senior semester at Loyola University. His dark brown hair was longer, better maintained, and the beard that had always been just long enough to scratch at my cheeks and lips had filled out and covered his entire jaw to fade into his sideburns.
And his body… Xavier had always enjoyed working out—he’d always enjoyed doing anything physical that gave him an excuse to put off his homework—but now…
This man had been hitting the gym. His jaw rested on his hand and his other arm lay on the table. The way the bend in each elbow showcased his biceps couldn’t be accidental…. But no man I knew who wore a suit in the workplace would let a wardrobe malfunction like the wrinkles in the jacket near his wrist pass on purpose. His posture needed some work, too. If he sat up straight, I might be able to see abs even underneath the jacket….
Never before had I started out a business meeting by thinking about ripping off a suit jacket. This was ridiculous, and I didn’t have time for it. Contract with Cruise Media. Save BeautyBee Cosmetics. Prove myself. These things were why I was here.
My skirt hugged my legs, my heels clicked against the tiled floors, the heat drifting from the vents didn’t stir a hair on my head, my case swung in my hand, and my jacket molded to my straight-backed posture as I walked. I could do this, and I absolutely would not let any sort of personal issues get in the way of this negotiation.
There was no use in making myself known with “good afternoon” or “hello, I’m Kristen, BeautyBee Cosmetics Head of Marketing”, so I just said, “Hello, Xavier.”
Xavier could be in an ad for whatever hair gel he used. His hair hardly moved when his neck snapped away from the window at the sound of my voice. “K-Kristen?”
That’s me….“Yes,” I ended up saying lamely. Years had passed, but a hint of that loss, sadness, and rejection I’d seen in his eyes as he knelt and listened to me say “no” still lingered. “It’s… it’s good to see you again.” Was it? His brown eyes kept capturing mine and driving all the reasons I’d come here from my memory.
“It’s good to see you too.” His voice was warm and genuine and—
Not intoxicating.Stop it, Kristen,I ordered myself sternly. Numbers and notices paraded across my inner eye, reminding me why I was here.
“So, um—” My throat didn’t need clearing, but I coughed to give myself a moment to collect my thoughts. “As I’m sure you’ve been informed, BeautyBee Cosmetics would like to contract Cruise Media to create a series of ads for our holiday campaign. I have here—” I set my case on the table. “—documents that should expedite the process. I’d like to work out a budget first. What do you need to—”
“Kristen….” Such a softly-spoken word, but it brought an immediate halt to my attempts to bring this unexpected meeting back to business. “Can’t I even ask how you’ve been?”
“Xavier, I don’t think it’s appropriate.” Why had I so easily dismissed even the possibility that he might come to this meeting? I could have been prepared for this. “I came here to meet with the representative from Cruise Media to discuss a contract,” I reminded him gently, refusing to let his disappointment waver me. It had been nine years since our senior year at Loyola University. How could I still feel so keenly how much I’d hurt him when I refused his proposal?
“Still the hard worker, even after all this time.” His assumed smile did nothing to hide his emotions. Open book, just as he always was. Something I had loved about him….
“Anyway, as I was asking… What information do you need to give me a quote? I’m hoping we can settle on something that will work with my company’s budget and your company’s expectations.”
Xavier’s fingers twitched. For a second, I thought he would reach out and touch me. Take me into his strong arms with his calloused hands, rough from years of sports and lifting weights. Pull me close to his body like he’d done every time he sensed my stress over due dates or applications.
He reached down beside him and deposited a folder onto the table. A tiny flush of embarrassment ran through me, even though Xavier could never have known what I was thinking. My imagination didn’t exist, my niece proved that when we played make-believe together. How could something that didn’t exist run wild through my mind, trampling all my senses when it came to this man?
“Why don’t we start with how many ads you want and how you want them to be seen? Once I know that, I can give you a fairly accurate estimate.”
The part of me that wished he hadn’t so easily returned to the business at hand faded away as I finally managed to focus. “I have a list of products we would like to showcase in our ads, as well as which platforms we would like them to show on.” Producing the papers from my case, I waited as he went over them.Budgets. Think about budgets.
“Let me cross-list these with some documents I brought, and I’ll see if I can give you an estimate on the spot.”
“In that case, I think I’ll get a coffee.” Luckily, the line to order faced away from Xavier. I just couldn’t sit across the table from him, trying to find something, anything to look at aside from him. What happened? Why was Xavier involved in his parents’ business instead of throwing footballs or hitting baseballs in some pro league?
To get those answers, I’d have to ask the man himself. I couldn’t do that. That would open the door to more personal questions and talk of the past. On that warm spring night, I had made it very clear why Xavier and I couldn’t be together. Now, nine years later, Xavier didn’t need a rerun of all the reasons I had rejected him.
He probably doesn’t even want that. He probably just wants to know how you’ve been after so long.That was how I wished it was.
But Xavier missed me. Even after all this time, he still missed me. I couldn’t give him false hope that there was even just a spark left, a tiny remnant of us that could be rekindled.
