Free All Who Dream (Letting Go) by Nicole Deese Page A

man sitting
beside me to shift gears.
      “I’m afraid I have no earthly idea what you’re
referring to, Miss Flores.”
      “ Pippy ! She’s in love
with you! And you treat her like a groupie in your fan club, leading her on
without a care in the world.”
    His mouth
opened.
    Closed.
    Opened.
    Closed.
    Then . . .he laughed.
    Tears
poured from his eyes. It was the first light-hearted laugh from him I’d heard. I
refused to let my body warm and relax the way it wanted to at the mellow sound.
Instead, my cheeks heated at the nerve of this man—this man to whom I was so
physically attracted it was almost painful.
    Bolting
from the car, I grabbed Cody’s hand and stalked to the building’s main
entrance.
    At least
for once, I’d had the last word—sort of.   If you didn’t count the
laugh of an evil villain as a word.
**********
    I heard
Jackson— Mr.Ross —behind us. He was still cackling as
he walked into the building. He laughed in the elevator, and all the way down
the hall, composing himself only when we reached the doorway to Peter’s small
office.
      “Hey, there!” A
masculine version of Pippy stood before me: charming,
slim, handsome. He shook my hand and waved us inside, greeting Cody with a fist
bump.  
      “You must be Angela Flores,” Peter said. “ Pippy has told me so much about you—she really likes
working with you.”
      “Well, I have really loved working with your
sister as well. She’s a special girl.” I glanced behind me at Mr. Ross, who had
started laughing again.
    “Tell…tell
Peter your diagnosis of Pippy ,” Mr. Ross said.
      “What?” I scowled at him.
      “What diagnosis?” Peter’s lighthearted
attitude showed through his question. He was just like his sister, smiling like
the world was made of gumdrops and mint patties.
      “Mrs. Flores has just informed me that Pippy is in love with
me . Weren’t those your words?” His gaze gleamed amusement.
    Peter
gaped at me and then scratched his head, cheeks reddening. I was so confused. What is going on here?
      “Uh, that’s not possible.” Peter’s face
quickly went from embarrassment to pure pity.
      “Why’s that?” I asked softly, already feeling
the weight of my body pressing against my knees. I wasn’t stable. This wasn’t
going to end well. I braced my hand against the wall.
      “Mr. Ross is our Uncle.”
    Oh Gosh…Oh Gosh…Oh Gosh…
    I’m an idiot…I’m an idiot…I’m an idiot…
      “It’s okay…he’s only ten years older than us,
so I could see how…well, maybe…” Peter started then his voice trailed off.
    He was
trying to make me feel better—very Pippy -style—but it
wasn’t going over well. If I could melt and slither away between the seams of
the wood paneling, I’d jump at the chance.
      “No, I’m so sorry. Gosh, I’m so very sorry.”
The lame words stuttered from my lips. “Is there a restroom nearby?”
      “Sure, right down the hall next to the
elevator. Want to meet us on the second floor in the café? It’ll get too busy
if we don’t secure a table soon. Pippy is on her
way.”
    At the
sound of her name I wanted to vaporize. Why—oh, why—couldn’t I control my
thoughts and mouth around Jackson Ross?
      “Sure. Cody, stay right here with Peter.”
      “I will, Mom.”
    My black
slacks swished around my legs and ankles as I rushed to a stall in the restroom
and closed my eyes.
      “Stupid, stupid, stupid…” I chanted to myself
under my breath. “This is why you shouldn’t make assumptions!”
    I went to
the sink and ran the cold water over my hands in an attempt to bring down my
body temperature, which seemed to be roughly the same as molten lava.
    I cannot face him again—ever.
    I opened
the door to the restroom and turned in the direction of the elevator, took a
step, and smacked right into the fancy dress shirt of one Mr. Jackson Ross.
      “There you are.”
    I glanced
up at his face, and then immediately wanted to die.