Waiting for Jo

By S.R. Bradshaw

Josephine O’Shea’s life is not going as planned. James, her handsome litigator boyfriend broke up with her, she despises her job, and some anonymous creep has been following her and leaving her threatening notes.

She’s just about given up on James when he offers her a position at his firm. Taking this as a sign that he’s still interested in her, she accepts the job and becomes singularly focused on winning him back.

That is until a tall, muscular artist named Will enters the picture. Jo must decide whether she should ignore her growing connection with Will and keep pursuing James or discard her preconceived notions and let herself fall for a man that she believes isn't right for her, all while trying to figure out who is stalking her.

***Contains explicit language and sexual content. Mature audiences only.***

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.R. Bradshaw
• Release date: Sep 25, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301812349

S.R. Bradshaw

I'm a new author, and I'm very excited about the release of my new book, WAITING FOR JO.When I'm not writing, I'm working as attorney for a non profit organization. In my spare time I like to read, snowboard, cook, take my dog for walks, and hang out with friends.I'm a sucker for romance, and I enjoy any book where two people fall in love and live happily ever after.Thanks for checking out my profile.Happy reading!

Book preview

My heart races as I struggle with my mascara. Why do I always wait until the last minute to get ready? I’m meeting James in half an hour, and I still need to let Malcolm out and finish putting on my makeup. I struggle with the wand, trying to not poke myself in the eye as I coat my lashes with an unsteady hand.

My rescue pup looks up at me and gives me his best puppy dog eyes. He knows I’m leaving and does his best to make me feel guilty.

C’mon, sweetie, Mama’s gotta get out of here. Go do your business. I open the back door and Malcolm darts out and chases a jack rabbit he spots in the grass.

I dry my sweaty palms on a kitchen towel and wait for Malcolm to finish up outside. I’m particularly nervous this evening, but I guess that’s to be expected when your ex calls out of the blue and asks to meet up with you. I haven’t seen James in a few months, and I have no idea what he wants. When he dumped me, I was devastated. I’m just starting to get used to the idea of not being with him, and now he wants to see me. Why? Does he miss me? Does he want to get back together? That would make me happy, but my mom always told me that if you don’t have any expectations you will never be disappointed, so I push the idea out of my head.

I take a few minutes and watch Malcolm from the kitchen window. He’s so fast that I only see a small white streak zigzagging from one end of the yard to the other, and it makes me laugh. Maybe I should have named him White Lightening.

Did you get lonely out there? I say as I open the door. I pat him on the head and give him a raw hide to chew on while I’m gone.

You can handle this, I say to myself in a vain attempt to calm my nerves. I take a deep breath as I grab my purse and head to the door. What’s the worst that can happen tonight? It’s not as if he can break up with me again, right?

The car radio clock reads 7:35 as I speed down the highway. I’m already late, and it will take another few minutes to get there. As I drive, I picture James waiting for me at the Alcove, my favorite wine bar in Woodside City - His dark hair nicely combed backed and his brown eyes staring down as he taps away on his phone. For a moment, I let myself pretend that we’re still together and that I’m meeting him for a date. I can’t help but smile at the thought.

James and I met about two years ago. He was an up-and-coming litigator at Anderson & Thomas, and I had just started working there as a paralegal. We exchanged smiles and friendly hellos for several months until he left the firm to start his own practice. A few weeks later, we ran into each other at the Alcove. He was there celebrating a victory in a case he’d been working on for several months, and I was there visiting with the owner, Scotty. We ended up drinking and talking for several hours. By the end of the night he had my number, and I was completely smitten.

I pull into the parking lot, check my reflection in the visor mirror, and straighten out the horseshoe pendant that James gave me for my last birthday. My makeup is flawless, and my cleavage looks especially enticing in the new, silk, emerald-green dress that cost me nearly a week’s wages. It’s time to see what James wants.

Walking into the Alcove, I immediately feel at ease. The larger than usual crowd of people, smiling and chatting between sips of wine, makes it feel more welcoming than usual. Scotty immediately notices me and comes from behind the dark, wood bar to greet me.

Hey, Josie, he says warmly. Scotty is the only person who calls me that. It started as a joke, but it ended up sticking. Everyone else knows me as Jo.

Hi, Scotty! How are you? I open my arms for a hug, and Scotty enters my embrace.

I’m great, Doll. Let me look at you, he says taking a step back. I put a hand on my hip and strike a pose for him. I love the dress. It matches your eyes. Scotty has an eye for style and always comments on how I look. I like to tease him by telling him that he’s the gayest straight man that I’ve ever met.

James is on the back patio, Scotty says.

Thanks, Scotty. Come out and see us when you get a chance, I say before traversing the long room and making my way to the back door.

Seeing the back patio of the Alcove, where James and I have spent so many evenings together, makes me feel nostalgic. I let the rich, tangy smell of the rosemary bushes fill my nostrils as I take in the familiar sights. The ornate, French-style cafe tables, the white lights draped over the trees, and the Madeline Peyroux playing quietly in the background make me feel like I’m in a 1940’s French film.

I see James at the far end of the patio, and I get that feeling in my stomach. The one I used to get as a kid while riding the tilt-a-whirl at carnivals. He’s just as I pictured him: handsome brown eyes squinting, looking down and long fingers tapping away at his smart phone, a Stella next to him on the table. He looks up, sees me approaching, and quickly jumps to his feet. I’m surprised at how eager he seems.

Hi, Jo, he says as he leans in for a hug. The familiar smell of Prada Luna Rossa cologne makes me weak in the knees, and I take a second to enjoy being close to him again. We separate slightly and his eyes meet mine. How have you been? he asks as he tucks a long, blond lock of curly hair behind my ear.

His gesture unnerves me a bit, and I pull away from him. I’m fine, James. Sorry I’m late. Traffic on 40 was pretty bad.

No worries, he says as he pulls my chair out for me. His eyes drift from mine down to my cleavage and then to my long toned legs. You look really nice tonight.

Thanks, I say awkwardly as I sit down, unsure of how to take his compliment. So, why did you ask to see me? After hearing nothing from you for two months I was pretty surprised to get your call. I’m not known for my patience.

James takes a sip of his beer. Actually, I have a proposal for you, he says before pausing as if he’s trying to gauge my reaction.

Ummm, okay. What is it? I ask.

My paralegal quit about a month ago. I’ve interviewed a ton of candidates, but I’m just not finding the right person. I’ve thought about this a lot, and I think that you’d be perfect for the job. The pay and benefits would be much better than you’re getting at Anderson and Thomas. He slides a folded piece of paper across the table to me.

My heart sinks. I don’t know what to say. I take the paper in my hand, but I don’t open it. Maybe I should be flattered that James thinks I’m perfect for the job, but I’m not really sure how to react. I told myself to not have any expectations, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping that he wanted to get back together.

Don’t say anything until you’ve looked at my offer. I think it’s very generous.

I finally open the paper and look down at the number with wide eyes. Wow. He’s offering me $15,000 more than I currently make.

I...I still don’t know what to say. This is a very generous offer, but do you think that working together is a good idea? I hate to admit it, but I’m not sure that I’m completely over you, and I think it might be difficult to see you and interact with you every day.

James looks at me with a bit of desperation in his eyes. Jo, I understand where you’re coming from, but just think about it. The pay is great. You wouldn’t have to work with ‘Demanding Dan’ anymore, and you’d get a ton of experience. No more being a glorified secretary.

I take a slow, deep breath. I’m definitely going to consider the offer. Can I have a few days though? There’s a lot to think about.

Of course, just remember that--

James is cut off by a burly voice. Ma’am, what can I get for you?

What the hell? Why is this waiter calling me ma’am? I’m 23, not fifty.

I look up to see a handsome face that I don’t recognize. His light blue eyes, blonde hair, and broad shoulders look very Nordic. If he had a beard and one of those helmets with the horns coming out of the top, he’d make a pretty convincing Viking.

I forget the ma’am comment and smile up at him. I’m in the mood for a pinot noir. Can you recommend a good one?

We’ll ma’am, wine’s not really my thing. Maybe Scott can suggest something.

There he goes with that ma’am bullshit again.

I look at his name tag. That would be wonderful, Will. Also, you can just call Jo. Ma’am is a little formal for my taste. I flash Will a friendly smile and he blushes, realizing he’s made a faux pas.

Will do, Jo.

James scowls at me from across the table.

I look at him quizzically. What’s the matter with you? I say.

That waiter was totally checking you out, and I’m pretty sure you were flirting with him.

A sardonic grin comes across my face. Seriously? That’s funny that you would even care considering the fact that you broke up with me. When you did that, you lost the right to act jealous and to concern yourself with who I may or not be flirting with.

When James broke up with me, he said that he felt smothered and that he wasn’t looking for anything serious, but due to some interesting posts I saw on a popular social networking site, I suspected that he was exploring the possibility of getting back with his ex-girlfriend. I literally cried for days, so I find it pretty infuriating that he’s acting like he can have it both ways.

James doesn’t respond and instead starts tapping away at his phone. Work e-mail, he says.

Yeah, right, I think to myself.

The uncomfortable silence is broken when Will approaches with my wine. This is the Pinot that Scott picked for you. It’s a 2005 Frédéric Magnien Bourgoone.

You mean Bourgogne, James snaps, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

Yes sir. I believe that’s correct, Will says.

James continues to look down at his phone and doesn’t acknowledge Will's response. I mouth the word sorry to Will who acknowledges my apology with a slight smile.

Will bends down to set the glass of wine on the table, but the foot catches on the edge of his tray. He tries to grab it before it falls, but sadly, the glass lands on my chest, then rolls down my lap, spilling its contents down the front of my dress before crashing to the floor. I let out a surprised scream as I jump to my feet and try to brush the excess liquid off of me.

Wills face turns bright red. I’m sorry he says. Um... Will looks around for something to clean up the mess. Here use this, he says grabbing a dry napkin from the other side of the table.

I use the napkin to remove as much purple liquid form my dress as possible, but it doesn’t do much good.

Please ma’am...uh, I mean Jo. Let me get you some seltzer.

A look of disgust appears on my face. Don’t bother; it’s silk so it’s probably fucked. Seltzer won’t do anything, I say.

James watches the ordeal in silence, but I can tell by his pursed lips that he’s angry. He turns to face Will. You should buy her a new dress, he sneers.

It’s not necessary, I say, I’ll just have to save up and buy another one. I’m not going to make someone who lives off of tips buy me a new dress, but I can’t hide that I’m angry. This is the first article of clothing that I’ve purchased in a long time, and I was planning on wearing it all spring and summer. Unfortunately, it only made it about an hour into the season.

I grab my purse off of the table. James, I’m going to head out. I’ll give your proposition some thought and let you know next week, if that’s okay.

Sure, babe. Let me walk you to your car.

Babe? Really? I roll my eyes. I don’t think there’s any way that I’m going to be able to accept this job.

Chapter 2

I wake up in the middle of the night with fragments of a dream running through my head. For some reason, I dreamed of Will, the server from the Alcove. I was on a deserted beach, and I swam out into the ocean. I find that I’m being pulled by a rip tide. I struggle for what feels like an eternity. Just as I’m about to give up and let the water take me, Will appears. He’s strong enough to pull me from the rip tide and swim me back to shore. He lays me down on the sand and stares down at me as I cough and struggle to get the water out of my lungs. I finally close my eyes and quietly thank him. When I open them back up moments later, he’s gone. He never says a single word to me.

Why would I dream about the server? And why would I dream about him saving me? The subconscious mind is a strange thing. I drift back into a deep sleep for several hours before finally waking up to Malcolm licking my hand. The bright green, digital clock on my bedside table reads 10:08. Whoa! I never sleep in this late, not even on Sundays.

Do you need to go outside, pup? How about a nice, long walk? Malcolm’s eyes get really big and his tail wags frantically. I get out of bed and walk through the kitchen to the back door with Malcolm at my heels. He runs around the back yard while I brush my