Flowers for Jill Ch. 07

"I think it's a wise thing to take a break for a while. Figure things out, I guess." He commented compressing her hand momentarily for emphasis.

"I'm not taking a break," she unglued her gaze from the minuscule dot in the paint, and looked at him, "I just won't work under anyone anymore," would she ever reach a point where looking at him stopped making her heart trip and stumble? "I'm gonna be my own boss. No, this is not just a figure of speech," she clarified when he started to say something, "I'm starting a project."

His eyes widened, the blue irises thinning into two halos around his pupils, and she continued, "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I modeled lingerie to pay my way through school-"

"Yeah, I know," he grinned, "I jack off to your pictures."

"Right! Perv!" she chuckled, "Really though, I did some catalogue modeling in college. I still have copies of the catalogues and loads of pictures. My entire portfolio, actually, I've brought it along wi-"

"Jillian, I know. I wasn't kidding when I said I jack off to your modeling pictures," he pressed his fingers into her palm, "I have copies of everything you submitted to Élsi when you first applied, and they've kept me company when you didn't want to talk to me."

When she merely studied him with slow blinking dark eyes, he scoffed, "Stalker-ish, I know, but as your manager, I had access to your file, and I couldn't help but look it up when I first assumed my position."

She let out a sudden laugh, "Oh God, this is hilarious!"

"What?"

"I don't know...this, all of this," she waved at nothing in the air, "being happy, it feels good. I haven't felt true happiness ever since I was a little girl, and I almost forgot what it's like."

A look of empathy crossed his eyes, and he leaned forward sealing her lips with a long feeding kiss that conveyed his reciprocated feelings.

They lied still in silence for another ten minutes before he said, "This might sound old fashioned, but I don't like the idea of you modeling half naked for a bunch of jerk offs out there, I wanna be the only one wanking off to you in underwear."

Jillian smiled turning on her side and draping an arm around his waist, "I don't want to model. I like the idea of you being all Neanderthal, He Man on me, though." He gave her a confused look and she explained, "You didn't let me finish, I was going to say that I dabbled in clothes design for a while, but the project didn't really take off because I wasn't serious about it. I still have a lot of sketches, and I've added some to them. I've forgotten all about them until that night when..." she drifted, but he caught her meaning.

"Our anniversary." His voice was contrite.

"You remembered..." she rose up, pushing on his stomach to look at his face.

"Why do you think I went out and picked up a couple of floozies for? I wanted to think of something else, of someone else," he shook his head interrupting himself, "Anyway, it was a stupid idea, easy models didn't and will never hold a candle to you."

"Sheila," she mused remembering something, "Sheila Brennan? The model?"

He frowned apologetically, "Yeah. I didn't do anything with her, I swear, I walked out o-"

She kissed him stopping him, "No more past regrets, wasn't that the deal?" at his nod she grinned, "It's still pretty flattering that you didn't get it on with Sheila Brennan for me."

"Jeez, Jill." he scratched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm serious."

"Yeah well, her fake jugs couldn't do shit to turn me on. I like those babies right here," he rolled over her nuzzling her breasts despite the drying cum over them.

"You have to let me finish." She grasped him by the hair and pulled his head up.

"How about we finish in the hot tub?" he suggested wriggling his eyebrows, and she sighed exaggeratedly, "Oh, okay. I left my purse in your bathroom, anyway."

"I saw it. Almost went through it." he admitted rolling to the side of the bed and sitting with his feet on the floor.

"What?"

"I was mad at you, and it was sitting there, staring at me. I didn't though." He looked over his shoulder at her, "I respect you, and I thought it would make me an asshole to do that."

He was such a sweetheart, and she crawled to the edge of the bed and wrapped herself around his back, "You're a darling man."

He grumbled something while pulling her legs around him, "Hold on." He added before getting up, "Piggyback ride to the bathroom, courtesy of Élsi Dussant's CEO." He quipped making her giggle.

"You didn't finish your project idea." He reminded her when he set her on her feet on the bathroom tile and set out to prepare the tub.

"Yes, well you need to see these," she dug in her tote for a big album and placed it on the side of the tub, "I brought my sketches and patterns for you to look at. I added some new stuff, too. I want to design my own line of lingerie. I know it's a big project, but I've built my name well within fashion companies, and I have good connections. I know I can get some support setting this idea for takeoff. I've only got the idea yesterday, but I think it's good. J. Zahra. It has a ring to it, doesn't it?"

He blinked, his brows knotting over his eyes, "That's a great idea!" his lips parted in an admiring smile, "I'll back you up one hundred percent, and Élsi can carry your line exclusively."

"That's too much to ask for, Marc, I realize that you and I ar-"

"Boyfriend and girlfriend," he interrupted resolutely, "We're life partners now. Let me help you do this."

They settled in the bathtub, and she stopped herself when she wanted to decline his help. The old Jillian would do that, not the new, happy Jillian who had a bagful of dreams and a lover ready to support and help her.

"I have to fly back to Chicago in the morning, Marc, I need to feed my birds, and see what I can do about my lease. I also need to start looking for an apartment here," she drifted off, sighing as the hot bubbling water soothed her exhausted muscles.

"Your birds?" his hand crept up her thigh suggestively, and she chuckled, "Yes, birds. I have two budgies now."

"Well, they're welcome to live here when you move in with me," he stated simply, "I'll buy out your lease in Chicago so you don't have to worry about all that."

"Marc, I don't want to impose." She stared into his eyes unable to stop her fretting.

"You're not imposing, I want you to live with me," he assured, "I want the woman I love to live under the same roof with me. Make this house a home."

Cupping his face in both hands, she pressed her forehead to his, "Are we really doing this?"

"Yes." He confirmed stealing a small kiss from her lips.

"I'm excited," she bit her lower lip, "I'm thrilled and terrified at the same time. I've never done anything like this before, changed my whole life to fulfill a dream and be happy."

"Neither have I;" he admitted, "that's why it's good that we have each other for support. I love you, Jillian, and I believe in you, I want you to believe in yourself."

Not in him, in herself. He wanted her to be there for herself. She crawled into his lap, hot water splashing and bubbling around them, "I do believe in myself, and I believe in you, too, Marc."

He smiled and rested his head back on the edge of the hot tub, "And I know how much you've grown to love Chicago; I'll arrange for us to visit as often as we can. We'll fly over every few months and try some of that deep dish pizza everyone keeps telling me I should eat when I go there."

She shook her head with a smile, "Deep dish pizza is good, but the best thing to eat in Chi Town is pretzels; the best pretzels on earth, trust me on that. Hot dogs and Chinese food are also on the list."

"Damn, all that good food. Maybe we should both just move there!"

She laughed running her fingers through his hair and messing it around, "You know I've developed quite an affinity for the Blackhawks while living there, we can go watch them kick ass every now and again."

He groaned, "Can I at least convince you to wear a Canadiens' t-shirt and go to Montréal with me a couple times a year?"

Smiling, she kissed him, "Anything for the man I love."