Mister Know It All by Amélie S. Duncan

JASMINE

Choose life

Ford: I have a day trip to Connecticut, but I’ll be back later.

We agreed not to say goodbye, and I’d see him soon. However, instead of staying in New York City, I’d go back to Boston for a few days. I needed to prepare for my final semester and box some of my personal things for storage since I’d return to New York City in January. That was what I told Graham and Soraya. However, my real reason was I didn’t want to pressure Ford. He needed space to figure out what was best for him, not me. I loved him and the way he cared, and even if he had to go, I’d understand. It wouldn’t be his choice to leave me. He loved me enough to try, and that only made me love him more.

I had one more thing to do at Morgan Financial before I left: Margot’s retirement party. Quinton had texted me twice, and I couldn’t shirk my responsibilities, even if my heart hurt.

Quinton: I need my lucky star. Meet me out front. The party starts in two hours!

Thanks to the Internet, social media, and friends who love to relive the good times, we’d struck gold and found a picture of Margot with a Choose Life T-shirt at a Whamconcert. At least, that was the story we told everyone. But Quinton had confided in me that he got the idea of the ’80s-themed party from watching an episode of Vampire Diaries.

I took the subway to Morgan Financial. When I reached the front of the building, Quinton waved me over, and I burst with laughter at the sight of him. He had on a satin tuxedo shirt and stonewashed pants.

“Where is your eighties outfit?” He frowned.

I swallowed and bobbed my head. “I’m not staying. I’m going to Boston for the weekend.” I bit my lip.

The corners of his mouth turned down. “You look like a hot mess. Trouble in paradise, I see. I would tell you to go now and lick your wounds, but I need you.” He handed me his checklist and rattled off many things we needed to do before the start.

I took over the checklist and marked the companies that needed a follow-up call. “I’ll go inside and check on the setup.”

I rushed over to take the stairs to the third floor. There was already an event staff setting up chairs, filling helium balloons, and hanging up Margot’s pictures throughout her years at Morgan Financial. The early photos were of her grinning playfully at the camera. Some showcased her inventive genius in software and Ford. Where she was, he was her right-hand.

My heart sank. Ford. He never left my thoughts these days.

I went to work, making phone calls, directing the stage, and catering. While I observed the DJ’s sound checks, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

Margot: Ms. Bisset. I’d like a word about the plaque.

I grimaced. While the party might be cheesy, I’d checked on previous models and followed the company protocol. Her plaque, award, and gift were top-notch. Still, I went up to her office. Inside, she directed movers to carry out her boxes and personal paintings.

“There you are,” she said, leaning her hip against the edge of her desk. “Come over. I won’t bite.” She let out a dry laugh.

I lifted my chin and walked over to stand in front of her. “What’s wrong with the plaque?”

“Nothing,” she said. “It’s perfect.”

“Then what am I doing here?” I asked in a monotone voice.

She sighed. “You’re here because I asked you to come. You remind me of myself. The higher you get, the more you must show strength. Somehow, you show it and still found a way to have fun.”

A warmth grew inside me. Margot just complimented me.

“Ford’s made my job easy. His art is good, but he’s earned my job.”

The way Margot said “earned” made me think she’d been a hard-ass. Ford, like me, dealt with the assholes. We persevered and excelled. I did in academics and research writing, and he had by finding his passion in photography and painting. They gave his life a balance, but with all the travel, he felt alone. Still, we both tried for love.

“All I want is for Ford to succeed,” Margot said, calling me back from my thoughts.

“This is where Ford belongs. The job created was custom-made just for him, and I feel like I can’t retire with my position not left in his hands.”

“You’re right. From the little time I’ve been here, I can see that.” She said nothing I hadn’t thought of myself. Morgan Financial needs Ford. He’s the best person for the job.

I turned to go.

“One more thing, Ms. Bisset. You and your buddies think you planned the party to get me back, but I’ll let you in on a secret. I planted my WhamT-shirt picture, and my grandson posted the Vampire Diaries episode on Quinton’s social media. I wanted this party. Of course, I’ll deny it all if you give it away.”

My mouth dropped open, and I closed it and zipped my lips. We both laughed.

“Jasmine, you sure you don’t want to stay?” Quinton appeared in the doorway. He gave Margot a suspicious look.

I shook my head. “I can’t. My flight back to Boston is in . . . two hours.” I checked the time. “I’ve got to go. Soraya’s picking me up and taking me to the airport.”

“Okay, but this party is going to be epic. You’ll regret missing it, but I’ll take it over from here. See you next week.”

I hugged him, and we finished our checks until Soraya sent a text to let me know she was parked outside.

Summer fling turned me love-sick. Back to Boston to regroup.

Tam was at the airport to greet me when I landed.

“Oh, Jaz.” She hugged me. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll be okay,” I said hoarsely. “How was the MCAT?”

Tam launched into telling me where and how she took the test while she drove. She knew I didn’t want to talk about what happened with Ford right now or hear how he would have to leave me.

It was strange how familiar everything looked but different. A short time away and my life here felt small. College life was a bubble compared to working full-time. There was fun, but the pace was much faster. The small things not as necessary. I’d done more fun things in a few short months than I’d done in years. I also discovered my work stood on its own two feet without ass-kissing professors to give me support or take credit. I became a beautiful muse for a photographer painter with my own show. I’d had the time of my life.

She hugged me tight and helped me wheel my bag up to the front door.

“I’ll help you pack up your stuff and whatever way I can to prepare your place for renting next semester and ask around to see if someone responsible needs a place.”

“You’re the best, Tam. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I sighed and waved to her from the door as she pulled her Prius out of the driveway. Then I walked inside. I’m home.

My home still suffered from post-semester ruin. Didn’t I clean this up before I left? Oh, I did clean. I chuckled at the clutter. There wasn’t a bare surface in here. My coffee and side tables sat next to last year’s unused candles and holders, with various bobbles I collected with stories attached that I haven’t had the heart to throw away. The only tidy room visible was my dining room that had been emptied of my home office for a turkey dinner I made for friends at the end of the semester. They came over and took away all the leftovers in my plastic containers that I’d probably never get back again. Boo. I’ll deal with this later.

After a grocery and latte run, I returned and put them away but got distracted by the mail. I collected it on my way back in and sat down on the couch with my drink.

I heard a car pull up into my driveway and stopped to check outside of the window. It was a . . . Dodge Caravan?

My heart hammered in my chest.

Ford climbed out, and my heart soared. What is he doing here?

I loved him casual, but he was breathtaking in his business suits. He had on a dark gray suit and a blue shirt today. He opened the side door and pulled out a briefcase.

That was as long as I could wait. I hurried to my door and opened it wide.

“How is it possible you’re here in Boston?” I shrieked.

Ford gave me one of his infectious smiles. “You texted that you were coming here, so I changed my return flight.”

“I’m glad. I missed you.”

He put the briefcase down, and I leaped into his arms, and we kissed like we hadn’t seen each other in years. When we parted for air, I hugged his neck, and he bent down with me in his arms to pick up his case and carry me up the stairs to my house.

“That’s an obscene amount of kitsch,” he teased when we walked inside. “How do you find anything, let alone think with all this distraction?”

“There is a method to this madness, let me assure you,” I said, and he placed me on my feet.

I cleared off a seat and playfully pushed him down on it. He, in turn, pulled me onto his lap and ran his hands around my hips to squeeze my buttocks. There was still electricity to his touch, and my body charged. But it was his first visit, and I wanted to be a good host like he’d been for me.

“Just give me a few minutes, and it will all be tidy.”

I moved to climb off his lap, and he balled up the front of my T-shirt and pulled me down to kiss my lips again. This time, he added tongue and slid it seductively against my own. It felt so good, I almost gave in, but I moved back on my feet.

“I want you comfortable here. Let me clean for you, Ford.”

He pouted. “I don’t give a damn about the mess.”

I sprang into action anyway. Clearing the rest of the groceries, shelving books back into my three bookcases, and stacking my papers into the filing drawers.

Rushing up the stairs to my bedroom, I shoved everything away in the closets, filled my hamper, and brought out a fresh set of linens onto my canopy bed. After a quick stop at the mirror to brush my hair and fix my creased T-shirt, I stepped into the hallway, and Ford was there. He stood staring at the velvet patch quilt hanging on the wall.

“You haven’t asked why I’m here yet, Jasmine.”

“I didn’t want to spoil it with you leaving town. I just wanted to cherish you being here with me.” My voice lost steam. I couldn’t take any more bad news.

He bent down and picked up papers placed on top of his briefcase. “This is why I’m here.”

I took them and read the top line, Jasmine Bisset Global Research Writer contract. My eyes shifted over the offer, and my mouth dropped open. “Both of us in Tokyo in January?”

“Yes, and then if you want to go back to Boston for college, I’ll work remotely or work part-time at Morgan Financial and work full-time on my photography. Your show sold out, so I can afford to, and you can afford to go with me, though you wouldn’t have to pay for a thing. But this way, we don’t have to say goodbye. We can be together. What do you think?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation.

There was a yearning in his handsome face that grabbed my heart. I knew Ford loved me.

I wouldn’t turn down everything I wanted.

A joyous sound erupted from him, and he clasped my waist, pulling me close to him. He wasted no time, lifting the end of my T-shirt and taking it off. He had my bra unhooked at the back, and I glanced back at the bedroom. My nipples were already tight from the chill in the room and his fingers tracing over them.

“Here?” I rasped.

He nodded and undid the buttons on my cargo pants. “I want to fuck you against your granny patch quilt.”

I swiped his arm and giggled. “Hey, that’s my birth quilt. It’s a family tradition.”

“And I’m adding a new tradition,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“You’re making fun of me, Mr. Lingren,” I mused but unbelted his trousers. I wanted to feel him just as much.

He let my loose cargo pants drop before ripping the fabric of my favorite pair of lingerie he’d gifted me.

“Ford,” I grumbled, but he didn’t care. He kissed my pursed lips and took his pants and underwear off, freeing his erection that made me wetter from just the sight of it. The soft fabric of the quilt hit my back as Ford lifted me into his arms. I gripped his shoulders hard and wrapped my legs around his waist as he eased his cock inside me. “Feels good, doesn’t it, petal?”

I moaned. Mmm, but my quilt . . .

He moved, hitting me oh so right.

My eyes rolled back in my head in pleasure. Damn him.

He dug into my waist and picked up his pace. His thrusts came harder, and I could feel my orgasm starting. My nails clawed his back, and I buried my head in his neck as I panted.

Fuck the quilt!

I couldn’t hold back, and I let go, quivering in his arms, clenching him tight enough to make him growl out my name as he came.

We panted and laughed together as the quilt fell onto my head.

Ford kept me in his arms and kissed me hard on the lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Ford.”

He slowly set me down. I was about to pick up my clothes when he stopped me.

Reaching into his pocket, he took out his phone, and I let him take a picture. He then showed me my tear-streaked smiling face, and my heart grew.

“I wanted to mark the moment you agreed to be a part of my future.”

And at the end of the night, when I fell asleep in his arms, I couldn’t believe how the summer of me became the summer I fell in love with Mr. Know-It-All.