Chapter Nine
Claire politely moved her steak-knife back and forth, the tip of the sharpened object tearing into the meaty slab of medium-welled cooked cow before her. Peering inside the meaty flesh, and checked the cooks work and then nodded to the waiter when it was a juicy grey, cooked just perfectly to her liking. Knifing off a piece, she brought it to her mouth, the tangy taste of lemon and lime baste stinging her nose and sending a delicious sensation through her tongue.
She looked across the table at Gray, who had ordered a honey-mustard chicken Crunch! salad. The boy's eyes widened as the waiter set the heaping bowl of lettuce and other additives in front of him, resting a saucer of honey-mustard dressing beside him. Claire then peered at Zach, who had already received his order of tacos. She nodded to the waiters, excused them, and reached for her water glass.
They sat in silence a few moments.
Taking a long drink, her eyes shifted between them, and she replaced the sweating glass. Having changed into a lilac colored sundress and heels, she'd pinned her hair back in a twist and clip, and had touched up her make-up. After all, she didn't want to be seen at dinner looking like a disheveled heap. Claire tried to tell herself it was for the sake of her nephew's, not the fact that she would be dropping in on Owen after dinner as she applied makeup an hour earlier.
Claire hadn't realized Gray had asked her a question until Zach snapped his fingers in front of her face, causing her to jolt back into reality and away from her thoughts of Owen. "Aunt Claire? Earth to Aunt Claire?"
"I'm here," she gave Zach an annoyed look a sister might've given instead of an aunt. "What was the question?"
Gray motioned to her with his fork. "How was your day?"
Claire stopped mid-bite, and stared at the young boy. His light brown hair hung in shaggy curls around his face, bright eyes illuminated under the chandelier lights above their table. Gray was the spitting image of his mother, Claire's sister, and had as much joy and genius packed inside him as her sister did. Zach, however, took after her brother-in-law, with dark brown hair and fair skin, pouty lips, and deep, serious eyes. An emotional teenager like all the rest, he was always sarcastic and dripping with remarks. Both of them reminded Claire of a life she'd left behind in Washington state, and she hated it.
She blinked, taking in the question, before she could form a reply. "My day? Well, it was nice." It had gone decently-publicity with Children's was peaking nicely, and the United Airlines deal had sealed magnificently. The only thing which had went wrong was her meeting with Henry, which hadn't even happened yet. She took a petite bite, "How was your day, you two?"
Zach huffed, "Decent," he mumbled, taking a bite of taco. He looked depressed and exhausted, and had gotten some sun on his face. She smile weakly at him and then looked to Gray, who took a huge bite of salad and began munching. She smiled at him, and crossed a leg over the other beneath the table, wishing to God this dinner was over already.
"How about your day, Grey?" She'd given up trying to talk about Zara. They'd never admit to their behavior anyway, and she couldn't force them to be watched. Besides, Zach should've been old enough to watch out for the two of them.
"Good," he uttered through his mouthful of salad, "The T-Rex is awesome."
She smiled. Karen had said Gray was a dinosaur fanatic. She was glad he found pleasure in the Rex, which was Jurassic World's highest grossing attraction, the Mosasaurus falling second and the petting zoo third. She nodded to him, "Did you see her...eat lunch?"
He nodded frantically, eyes sparkling with life at mention of them, "Yeah, I did! It was amazing! There was blood and, and guts, and-"
She put up a hand, doing her best to not be disgusted and chuckled, "Well, yes, I've seen it before. Let's not bring it up over dinner, okay?"
His shoulders slumped, defeated. Zach glared at her from across the table, Claire giving him an innocent look. She ate the last piece of her steak, stomach gurgling in protest as she remembered the T-Rex feeding the first time she'd witnessed it. She'd vowed to never see another as long as she was in the park, it had been so disgusting. "Well, I'm glad you two are having a good time. I see you've found your wrist bands," she pointed at Zach's with her fork, nodding and reaching for her dinner glass, "I've arranged for a side-by-side for you to drive tomorrow, to all the attractions. It's under my name, so you'll have to be careful," Zach nodded, as if it were a cool idea, Gray swinging his legs under the table and taking another large bite of his dinner. She looked between them. "It'll be outside the resort for you around seven."
Zach's eyes widened. "In the morning?"
She nodded, giving him a superior smile. "Yes, in the morning. Most of the animal's feed in the early hours, and if you want to see them all in one place, you have to be up. Don't worry. I've arranged it all myself."
Zach rolled his eyes, sinking in his chair. Gray beamed at her, all excitement, and bobbed his head in an overly excited nod. They finished dinner, shared a quick desert, and Claire bid them goodnight, seeing them off to the resort and into the elevator, before she headed out to the Mercedes coupe. Night had befallen the park, leading most of the guests outdoors, the late-nighters out for drinks and appetizer's at the few bars dotted around the park.
It was five after eight when she came to the paddock. The garages were closed down, everything eerily quiet. Claire turned the car off, a shudder piercing her spine, and opened the door. The only lights on were the overheads above the stairs and sporadically around the paddock, and of course the one's in the office. She saw a broad-shouldered frame pass the window, unmistakably Owen by its gait, and she smiled a half smile. He was far too easy. The last time she'd come when it was dark she'd had him eating out of her palm.
Slowly taking the stairs, she noticed all the vehicles had been parked and the garage was closed-evidence the workers and technicians had retired. All that was around was the dark jungle, which gave her creeps. Even though contained on the island, she felt as if something were going to spring out of the darkness and attack her. She brushed the thought aside-Claire had everything under and control and in order. Nothing was going to spring out at her.
At the top step, she stopped, stared down at the front of her chest, and arranged her breasts-as if she needed the help. Clearing her throat quietly, she smoothed the edge of her dress, smacked her lips together, and approached the closed door. Grabbing the knob, she twisted it, pulled it open and was blasted with a spring of cool air, the smell of gardenia's mixed with a strange aftershave, popcorn and-
-laughter. Pure, bubbling laughter.
Claire froze in the door, taking in the scene. The laughter was cut short upon her arrival, her eyes widening somewhat at the scene. She dropped her hand from the knob, fumbled with her clutch purse, as the three figures took in her presence as if she were a space alien instead of a woman. Her mouth suddenly went dry, and her chest constricted. Her eyes leveled on the figure behind the desk. Jealousy racked her heart.
Marianne. Starting at her.
"Claire," Owen said suddenly, getting up from the chair in the corner. His feet dropped from the windowsill where they'd been propped and he wiped his hands on his pants. Claire's gaze focused on the other female in the room, who sat in the corner quietly with a pen and computer paper drawing. She looked up at Claire blankly, as it waiting for something to transpire. "What are you doing out here?" Owen crossed his arms over his chest, giving her a curious look.
She shook her head slightly. "What? I have to have a reason?" She spat.
He shrugged his shoulders, shifted his weight, and smiled at her tauntingly, as if he knew she'd get mad at him and enjoy it, "Don't you always?"
She looked at him, mouth slightly agape. Had he really just said that to her? Two could play this game, "I find that with you, Owen Grady, having areason for everything is necessary, since employees like you need a reason for tying your shoes, much less doing your job." He scratched the back of his neck, nodding as if it were true. Claire whipped her gaze to Marianne, who was behind the desk, a pen behind her ear and the computer screen on, casting illuminated light onto her face.
"What did you need, Claire?" Owen gave her that infamous smile and a wink, "Since we all know you didn't come here to shoot the breeze."
She sighed, cocked her hip, and rolled her eyes. "Yes, actually; I came to see how things were going with Miss Rand-Marianne," she approached the desk and looked down at the woman, "How was your first day, Marianne?"
Her mouth fell slightly open as if she couldn't believe she'd been asked a question. At least Claire had enough maturity to continue speaking to her after their conversation in the coupe. Collecting herself, Marianne took the pen from behind her ear and shot a look to Owen and then back at Claire. "Oh. Well. It's been great." She sat back in her chair, "And I did some organizing up here so it worked out good."
Claire nodded, then gave her a side look, "I see you managed," she shot a look over to Owen, who dropped a finger-full of popcorn into his mouth. The young girl, Claire recognized her from the docks, stood between his knees, watching him with wide, adoring, smart eyes. Claire looked away and rolled her eyes, "And everyone," she shot a look over to Owen, tapping her finger on the desk, "Has been good to you?" She asked, pretending to be curious.
Marianne nodded, giving her a small smile, and Claire thought she could see the woman processing her lack of true curiosity. She felt as though Marianne could see right through her. "Good enough. It's only my first day. I think we're getting along just smashing." The last bit sent Claire's temper whirring, noting Marianne's sarcasm. "Thanks for asking."
"Hm," Claire turned on her heel, "Well, it's late. I just wanted to see how things went your first day." Owen draped his head back over the chair, stared at her upside down and gave her the silliest looking grin. She cursed his immaturity, not bothering to give the girl a look, only letting her eyes linger over his biceps, which were showing nicely through his shirt. "Goodnight, everyone."
"G'night, Claire. Thanks for droppin' in," he waved at her, winked, and the little girl grabbed his vest and pulled him up. They began whispering, and Claire looked to Marianne, her eyes narrowing slightly at the woman, who looked at her as if she'd outsmarted a fox.
"Goodnight, Miss Dearing. Drive safetly," she chirped, waving her out. Claire said nothing, upturned her chin, and closed the door behind her.
Stopping with her hand still on the knob, the muggy hair dotted perspiration on her forehead. She inhaled a sharp breathe. Claire hadn't expected Marianne to be working such...late hours, nor had she expected the little girl. Or the clean office. Or the popcorn for that matter. Huffing, she stormed towards the stairs, took them loudly, stopping only when she heard the rustling of leaves and the rush of wind behind the thick paddock walls. Her heart pitched and she hustled to her car, furious, and somewhat let down.
She shrugged it off, thumped the door closed, and turned the key in the ignition, lingering. It screeched in protest, her dropping her hand to the shifter, and shifted into drive. Tearing out of the lot, she glanced into the rearview, rolled her eyes, and glanced at the clock. Eight twelve. No matter, she told herself. Not a big deal.
She knew where Owen lived.
. . .
Marianne was more than jealous as Claire stared at her as if she were a superior being on a gold pedestal.
The tension in the room had been thick enough to split the world open and drain the oceans. She'd just sat in her chair, watching the red-head, thinking how much Claire resembled a fox with a petite face and thin, long nose; shifty, intelligent eyes trying to process her presence. Marianne could tell immediately the woman had not been anticipating Marianne or Sophie's presence in Owen's office at eight at night. After all, she smelled Victoria's Secret, and that never lied.
And she'd spotted Claire out the office window...spiffing up.
It was obvious Claire and Owen had history-their iciness and one-upping of one another was evidence enough. Claire had peered at Marianne as if she could shoot lasers out of her eyes, as if she were vermin that needed exterminated or a dog that needed put out of the way. Marianne had watched her interact with Owen, sensed the uneasiness between them, but had noted that Owen was cool as could be around the vixen. However, Claire's eyes betrayed her, and Marianne just knew she wasn't fully over Owen, however long their relationship had ended.
Marianne shifted her eyes away from Sophie and Owen, pretending to busy herself by picking up the blank, butter stained pieces of computer paper they'd used as napkins for the popcorn-which, strangely enough, Owen kept in his office. She couldn't bear to watch them catch popcorn in their mouths any longer-the moment was too much, the sweetness almost unbearable; and not in a bad way. He was great with kids, and that was fantastic-but it did nothing to help Marianne suppress the rising attraction she had to him. As she tossed the papers away and brushed her hands on her thighs, she closed her eyes and sighed, back to them. She'd never be what Claire was, no matter how many suicide runs or diets or miles on the treadmill.
Finally, after pretending to look busy, she sensed Owen get up from the chair. Turning to them, she found him stretching his arms above his head, which almost touched the ceiling, and then turn his neck to stretch it out as well. Sophie sat as his feet, picking up her paper and pens, and got up to replace the pen in its proper place and fold the papers precisely to fit in her back pocket. Marianne watched her but then sensed Owen staring at her. She shifted her gaze to him and he abruptly looked away.
"Well," he flattened his lips, raised his brows, and slapped his hands on his thighs as if changing the subject, "I say it's time to call it a night and catch some Z's. Whattya think, Soph?" The little girl nodded, walking towards the door, and then looked between the two adults, quietly.
"I'll wait outside," her lips lifted into a smile, Marianne's heart kicking into high gear. Her breathe hitched and her stomach began to panic, eyes shifting to Owen. She gave him an uneasy, somewhat uncomfortable look, one he shared, and before they could stop her Sophie had closed the door and was hurrying towards the steps.
"Uh," Owen rubbed the back of his neck, walking to the corner and lifting a backpack over his shoulder. Marianne lunged for the desk lamp, clicked it off, and pressed the monitor button on the computer. Quickly sweeping up the legal pad and a pen from earlier, she moved towards the door, not looking at him. "That's...that's Sophie for ya. She, uh, can jump to conclusions."
"She's a kid," Marianne said a bit too quickly, hoping to God he couldn't see the blush on her cheeks from the little girl's blatant attempt to get them to say a more than romantic goodbye, as if this were a movie. She swallowed and he beat her to the door with his hand, reaching beside her to turn the knob slowly and open the door for her. She attempted to calm her breathe, unsure of what to do in the awkwardness of the situation, and he stepped up behind her, her stepping through the door, unwilling to get close to him.
Already the smell of motorcycle exhaust, the jungle, and sweat pounded her senses. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear and turned to him, thinking she should probably say something along the lines of "goodnight", or "see ya tomorrow". Only when she realized Sophie wasn't around did she think better of it. Owen locked the office door and she hurried down the steps.
They met Sophie at the bottom, Marianne stopping to nod to her and crouch before the little girl, who sat on the bottom step. The corner of Marianne's mouth wrinkled into a smile, and she winked at the girl. "It was good to get to know you, Sophie. I'll see you around sometime?" She hoped it didn't sound too presumptuous, since Owen was standing a step up behind Sophie, watching them.
The little girl rapidly nodded, a smile cracking onto her face. "Yeah. I hope so. You're smart," she craned her head back and looked up to her Uncle. Marianne's eyes shifted up to him as well, her unmoving. "Isn't she, Uncle Owen?"
He nodded, gave Marianne a very sexy half smile, and tweaked Sophie's nose. "Yeah. I'd say she's pretty smart if she can clean up all my junk. Pretty dang smart."
Heat flared onto Marianne's nose, and she abruptly stood. Taking a few steps back, she waved at them, back to where her Camaro was parked. She fished for her keys in her pocket, pointing at Sophie. "Well. I'll see you later," then she pointed at Owen, "and I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the popcorn."
He nodded, saluting her playfully, "Yep. See ya. Drive safe," he gestured to the jungle around them, "There's wild animals around here, y'know." He grinned at her, lightly chuckling at his own joke.
She smiled at him, chuckling a well, "Yeah. I kinda got that." Then, turning on her heel, she brought her key out of her pocket and rushed to the Camaro, opening the door. Before she could slip inside, she heard the two of them heading towards the bike, arguing.
"What you do that for, kid?" She heard him ask. Ducking into the car, she slammed the keys into the ignition and flicked the lights on. Slamming her head against the headrest, she turned the car over and waited until Owen and Sophie sped past her, Owen offering a wave and gunning the engine of the Triumph, red tail lights vanishing around the corner. She gunned the engine, followed, and opened her window, the muggy night air blasting the smell of jungle into the car.