Chapter Five
Carly
My mind is a mess today. Between Dottie and Ivy’s fight, Chance trying to get me to go out with him, and the date I’ve been avoiding all day, I’m about to fall apart. Blowing out a breath as I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and stare out at the road in front of me, I focus on the fight between Dottie and Ivy. It’s the most manageable problem of the three.
Dottie has always been the one person in this world who is there for us no matter what and we’ve never argued with her—not seriously, anyway—so it feels weird to know Ivy and Dottie aren’t speaking. I hate the tension. I may not be the one fighting with Dottie, but I’m still stuck in the middle, trying to repair the rift in our family. It’s especially hard when I think they both have valid points. Dottie shouldn’t have reacted so strongly without at least meeting Julian first, but Ivy has to see where she’s coming from. Our mother’s greed and desire for status destroyed our father until he felt like he had nothing left anymore and Dottie lost her brother so suddenly. It’s hard to heal from that.
With the bluetooth connected in my car, I dial Ivy’s number and wait for her to answer, as it seems to ring endlessly.
“If you’re calling me about Dottie, you can hang up right now,” she snaps without so much as a hello and I smirk, shaking my head as I pull into the parking lot at my apartment complex.
“I’m not.”
“Liar,” she shoots back, her irritation dying down with each word.
“Actually, I’m just calling to see how you are.”
She sighs. “I’m fine.”
“Well, now who’s the liar?” I ask, pulling into my designated spot and putting the car in park.
“I don’t want to talk about Dottie,” she replies but her voice betrays her, telling me how badly she wants to vent about their argument last night. “It’s just… I didn’t expect her to be so hateful.”
“Vi, she wasn’t being hateful. She’s just worried about you.”
“I know what I’m doing, Carly. Julian isn’t like the rest of them,” she fires back and I nod despite the fact that I’m alone in my car.
“And I believe you, but you have to take a minute to look at it from her perspective. Look at what Mother’s need for money did to Dad and look at what happened to me. She just wants to protect us.”
“So, what? I’m just supposed to throw away this man I love and be miserable for the rest of my life for her?”
I scoff, annoyed by her dramatics. “Of course not, Vi, but you could start by bringing him to Sunday dinner and letting Dottie get to know him a bit. She’ll see he really is different if you give her the chance.”
“You really think she would give him a chance?”
“I’ll talk to her, okay? Just bring Julian to dinner on Sunday and I’ll make sure Dottie keeps an open mind.”
“You would do that for me?” she asks, her voice hopeful.
“Vi, you’re my sister. I’d do anything for you. Just give her a chance, okay? She wants the best for you.”
She’s quiet for a long moment and I wonder if she got cut off when she sighs. “I know. Thanks, Car. I’ll talk to you later.”
“You know I’m always here if you want to talk. I love you.”
“I know and I love you, too. I’ll see you on Sunday, okay?”
I agree before hanging up, grabbing my things, and climbing out of the car. As I open the door to my apartment complex, I try to prep myself for my phone call to Dottie. She’s stubborn as hell and it will be like trying to push a rock up a hill to get her to agree to give Julian a chance but I’m hoping she’ll do it for Ivy. If he’s as great as Ivy says he is and she can just see them together and get to know him a little, I truly believe she’ll come around.
Stepping off the elevator, I sigh, happy to be home and more than ready to relax for a bit. Once inside my apartment, I toss my bag on the counter and look down at my phone, still a little nervous to call Dottie. The last thing I want to do is argue with her, too. Instead, I sift through the mail in my hand and pause when I get to an envelope with my name handwritten on the front. There is no return address and I flip it over, looking for any clue before I rip it open. Inside is a card with a bouquet on the front and when I open it, something falls on to the counter. Glancing down, I freeze at the sight of the check laying on my granite countertop and my hand shakes as I pick it up, reading the name three times before the check falls out of my hand.
No.
He didn’t.
Tears threaten to fall and my entire body trembles as I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to breathe, willing my mind to not go there. I’ve made it through most of this day without reliving the worst night of my life and I will not lose it now.
Fuck Austin.
Fuck him for what he did all those years ago and fuck him for thinking he can fix it by sending me a check for twenty thousand dollars.
If I took it, I’d be no better than my mother.
Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes again and close the card, ripping it in half without even a glance at the note inside. I don’t need to hear what he has to say and I’m sure as hell not going to assuage his guilt. I do the same to the check before dumping it all in the trash. Briefly, I consider setting it on fire but that gives it more power than I’m willing to part with. Going back to the island and sinking onto the stool, I take a couple of calming breaths before grabbing my phone to call Dottie. I scroll through my contacts but before I can find her name, the doorbell rings. I glance up and hop off the barstool as I set the phone on the counter, secretly relieved I have a little more time before I have to call her. I’m so lost in my thoughts I don’t even stop to check the peephole before I pull the door open.
“Chance,” I breathe out, my heart skipping a beat and butterflies flapping around in my belly before I remember I’m supposed to be avoiding him. I stand up a little straighter in an attempt to compose myself and grip the edge of the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Taking matters into my own hands,” he says, a smirk on his face.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He motions to the apartment behind me. “Why don’t you let me in and I’ll tell you?”
“Or you could just tell me right here.”
His smile grows and I lose the battle to keep my eyes on his face as they drop down the front of his body, appreciating the way his leather vest shows off his broad shoulders and strong arms. God, I’ve always had a weak spot for guys with great shoulders.
“Come on, sweetheart. I drove all the way over here just to spend a little time with you, the least you could do is invite me inside.”
I shake my head and he shrugs.
“That’s fine. We can have our date like this with me in the hallway, but you’ll need to grab a wine glass,” he says, holding up a bottle of wine and a six-pack of beer I somehow missed.
“And if I just close the door?”
His smile never fades as he watches me, rubbing his hand over the stubble on his jaw like he’s deep in thought. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to sit out here and very loudly tell you my life story. Although, I’m not sure your neighbors would appreciate it.”
Damn him for being right. Ms. Cheryl down the hall is nice enough but she would throw a fit if we interrupted her Monday night shows.
“You’re trouble,” I say, rolling my eyes as I step back and hold the door open wider for him.
“Who me?” he asks, glancing down at himself like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing and I resist the urge to roll my eyes again. He steps into my apartment and the entire mood shifts, my spacious living room suddenly feeling much too small. I close the door and move to step around him, but he moves into my path at the same time and we both stop, a breath away from each other as he swallows me up with his enchanting green eyes. My skin tingles and my heart races. The only sound in the entire apartment is our breaths meeting in the narrow space between us and no matter how much I tell myself to look away, I can’t force my gaze from his.
“Where would I find those wine glasses?” he whispers and I continue staring at him for a moment with a blank look on my face as his words sink in. Blinking once, I look over his shoulder to the kitchen.
“The cabinet to the right of the sink.” My voice sounds frail and I hate that he can hear exactly what he’s doing to me but it’s like he pulls me in and holds me hostage. A part of me is screaming to run away from this but the fire in his eyes is too beautiful, too intriguing to look away. Even with the certainty I’ll get burned.
When he finally turns toward the kitchen to retrieve the glasses, I suck in a breath and press the back of my fingers to my cheek to cool down before walking over to the island and sinking onto the barstool. Turning back, he sets a wine glass on the counter and pours a generous amount for me before popping the top off a beer.
“Trying to get me drunk?” I ask, arching a brow and he grins.
“It couldn’t hurt.”
I snort out a laugh as he slides the glass over and I grab it, taking a sip.
“Nice place,” he murmurs, his gaze drifting over to the living room before coming back to me and my lip curls in disgust as I glance over at my ostentatious living room.
“I guess.”
He scoffs and arches a brow. “What? Not good enough for you, Princess?”
“Princess?” I spit back at him, standing from my barstool so I can throw his ass out of my house. He doesn’t know anything about me and I will not sit here and listen to him make fun of me for an apartment I don’t even like.
His eyes widen and he holds his hands up. “Whoa. I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear.”
The sincere look on his face convinces me and I sit back down, taking a long sip of my wine.
“I’m sorry. The apartment is a touchy subject for me.”
“And why’s that?”
My mouth pops open and I almost tell him everything about my Mother and her… “habits” before I stop myself. This thing with him, whatever it is, has gotten out of control and I need to rein it back in. The problem is that throwing him out of my house and never seeing him again sounds just as unpleasant as trying to have an actual relationship with him. I take a sip of my wine, savoring the flavor before turning to him.
“I have to say, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a wine guy.”
“I don’t know much but my stepdad, Jerry, taught me a few things and I kind of wanted to impress this woman who seems intent on avoiding me.”
My cheeks burn and I stare into my glass, my mind at war over everything he says.
“Stepdad?” I ask, curious about who he is underneath all this cockiness and humor.
He nods. “Yep.”
“What happened to your dad?”
“No idea. I’ve never met him.”
“Oh. Sorry.” My mind blanks and I don’t know what else to say to him. His comment seems personal and personal is dangerous. God, what am I thinking asking him a question like that?
“What are you sorry for?”
I shrug, barely able to meet his eyes without imagining his lips against mine. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You’re not prying. Ask me anything you want to. I figure once you get to know me a little, you won’t be able to resist me.”
Despite the warning bells ringing in my head, I smile. “Someone’s awfully full of themselves.”
“Or confident.”
I shrug, looking away from him because his gaze calls out to me, urging me to lean into him. “Sounds like the same thing.”
“Yeah, but one makes me a douche and the other makes me endearing.”
I choke on my wine as a laugh bubbles out of me and he grins, grabbing the towel laying next to the sink and offering it to me. I dab my chin before setting it down in front of me and looking up at him.
“Thank you.”
“Not a problem. I like your laugh.”
I turn away from him to hide my blush. When was the last time a guy paid enough attention to even notice my laugh? When was the last time I cared?
“You know, I may not know anything about wine, but I have other talents,” he prompts and I turn back to him, brow arched.
“Such as?”
“I can bake.”
The laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it and I shake my head. “No, you cannot.”
“Yes, I can.” He laughs and I take a sip of my wine, studying him. Who is this guy?
“Did an ex teach you?”
“Nope. I spent a lot of time with Logan and his grandparents. His grandma was the one that taught us.”
“I’m sorry,” I reply, shaking my head. “I just can’t see it.”
He sets his beer down and looks around the kitchen. “Where’s your pantry? I’ll prove it to you.”
“Over there.” I point across the kitchen. “But the only thing you’ll find in there is popcorn and my secret candy stash.”
The beer bottle scrapes across the counter as he picks it back up. “Guess I’ll have to bring over ingredients next time and wow you with my prowess in the kitchen.”
“Prowess, huh?” I mutter, laughing and he nods.
“Don’t pretend like it doesn’t turn you on,” he teases. My heart stutters in my chest as I’m torn in half by indecision. Drawing air into my lungs, I square my shoulders and meet his gaze. Someone needs to get control of this situation before things spiral out of control and I wind up hurt.
“If we’re going to do this, I have rules,” I blurt out, but he takes it in stride, nodding as he takes a sip of beer.
“Okay. Let’s hear ‘em.”
“First off, this thing between us is casual. It will never be anything more than just sex and this can’t go any further if that’s a problem for you.”
His jaw ticks and he nods. “Anything else?”
“I don’t care if you’re sleeping with anyone else, but I absolutely will not be your side piece so if you’ve got a wife or a girlfriend, you need to leave now.”
He sets his beer down on the counter and slowly stalks over, the sound of his boots on the floor amplifying my heart rate. Standing in front of my stool, he spins it so I’m facing him as the air is yanked from my lungs. “Is that all?” he whispers.
“Yes.” My voice is rough and a little needy, something he picks up on immediately as his eyes flash with triumph as he brushes his thumb over my cheek.
“Okay, then I have a rule of my own.”
Oh, shit.
No one has ever flipped the script on me like this or ever challenged me like he does. In this moment, I should back away from him instead of leaning into his touch and it drives me crazy.
“What is it?”
He smiles. “If we’re sleeping together, you don’t sleep with anyone else.”
Shaking my head, I pull back. “That sounds an awful lot like a relationship.”
His only response is to pull me up off of my stool and press my back against the island as he claims my lips in a kiss that will forever be seared in my mind. One arm wraps around the small of my back as the hand on my cheek dives into my hair, controlling the kiss and intensifying my need. A moan slips out of my mouth as he flicks his tongue against the seam of my lips, demanding access. I have no power, giving him everything he wants without even a hint of a fight.
When he finally pulls away, I’m gasping for air and he presses a couple more quick kisses against my lips. “Say yes,” he whispers and goose bumps race along my flesh.
“No.”
He presses his hips against mine, letting me feel the bulge in his jeans and I moan, fighting back the “yes” that desperately wants to spill from my lips.
“Don’t you want me, Princess?” he teases in my ear and I’m too turned on to even give a damn that he called me princess again. Gripping his shirt in my fists, I roll my hips against him and he groans. He leans in and kisses my neck before whispering, “Give me what I want.”
I shudder, as he drags his tongue up the side of my neck, and nod. “Okay.”
He steps back, a wide grin on his face as he adjusts himself and I grip the counter behind me, my head dizzy with desire. Damn him! I had no intention of giving into his rule but then he gives me the best damn kiss of my life and I was weak.
“Anything else?” I spit, annoyed but my anger lacks passion, like maybe I always wanted to give into him.
He smirks. “No.”
“Then, I think it’s time for you to leave.”
His smile falls and I resist the urge to giggle, pleased I got the upper hand again. “What?” he asks.
“I’ve had a long, shitty day and I can’t do this right now, so I need you to leave.”
Today’s date flashes in my head again and I turn away from him, taking a deep breath. This was a terrible idea. I should have shut the door in his face when he showed up here. It’s hard enough to resist the things he makes me feel on my best day and it’s clearly impossible now.
As he closes the space between us, I turn to face him and he cradles my cheek in his hand again. “You’re not lying, are you?”
“No, I’m not lying,” I reply, meeting his eyes and letting him see a glimpse of how totally fucked-up I am. He studies me for a second before nodding and pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“I’ll come over tomorrow after you get off work.”
I shake my head. “I’ll call you.”
He smirks, nodding, but I can tell by the look on his face I will see him tomorrow no matter what I say. Leaning down, he presses his lips to mine again as my body molds to his. He hums in approval before pulling away and planting a few more quick kisses against my lips like he’s finding it hard to leave. I know the feeling. When he finally steps back, his gaze travels over my face before he smiles and trails his thumb over my bottom lip.
“See you tomorrow, Princess.”
* * * *
Chance leans in, kissing my neck slowly like he’s savoring me and I arch my back, trying to get just a little closer to him. His hand skates up my side gently. The featherlight touch sends fire licking across my skin as his lips crash into mine, tearing me apart as much as he’s building me up. My fingers skirt over his chest and the defined muscles there before venturing lower and dragging along the little line of hair leading to the button on his jeans.
“Go on, Princess. Take ‘em off,” he growls against my lips and a needy little sound slips out of my mouth as I pop the button. He peppers kisses up my jaw to my ear and nips at it as a shiver zips down my back. Suddenly, his weight is gone and I cry out.
“Chance?” I ask, reaching out in the bed next to me as my eyes flutter open. Cold sheets greet me and I grab the pillow next to me, slamming it down on my face and screaming out my frustration as I kick my legs against the mattress. My clit throbs and my breasts ache with the desperate need for release. I’m not even out of this damn bed yet and I know it will be another long day.
My mind drifts back to yesterday and the kiss I replayed in my mind all night long before I remember the card and check in my trash can. Growing up, I didn’t have friends. Not really, anyway. What I had were people who pretended to like me and accept me as long as it suited them. Maybe it was because they were bored and lacking attention at home or maybe because of their parents’ absence, they had been hurt and twisted up until they truly were just that cruel. I honestly don’t know and I don’t like to dwell on it. All they cared about was how they could use me to get what they wanted and not one person ever stopped to think about how their actions would affect me. I was just an object to them, a toy to be played with and discarded when I wasn’t all bright and shiny anymore.
With another sigh, I sit up and grab my phone, trying to push those thoughts out of my mind before it drags me down into yet another awful mood. The notification light blinks on my phone and Chance’s name on the screen has me smiling.
Chance:
Good morning, gorgeous. What time do you get
off work today?
Me:
Around five but I have plans.
Smirking, I reread my text before pushing send. I know Chance thinks he’s won but there is no way in hell I’m giving in easily. I was serious when I told him this wouldn’t be more than sex—even if I agreed to not sleep with anyone else. When the time comes, I’ll cut him loose even if it kills me because the cost of trying to be with him is much too high.
Setting my phone back on the nightstand, I crawl out of bed and strip off my tank top and panties as I walk into my spacious master bath and turn on the shower. Gingerly stepping in, the hot water hits my sensitive skin and I let out a breathy moan as the ache between my thighs returns with a vengeance. I close my eyes and I’m right back in my dream with Chance as he kisses a path up my neck and my hand slips between my legs. Leaning my shoulders back against the tile wall, I rub my finger over my clit, imagining his hand trailing over my body and his teeth sinking into my skin. I can almost feel him, like he’s really here with me under the hot spray and I pinch my nipple with my other hand, my body begging for release. I’m already so close. With the image of him pressing his lips to mine and his fingers trailing a whisper light touch down my neck and over my chest, I explode. My hand slips into my hair and I grip a chunk of it as my body bucks with an orgasm that wasn’t nearly as satisfying as I had hoped.
After a moment, I sigh, pushing off the wall and busying myself with washing my hair as I try not to think about the fact that I would much rather have the real thing in here with me right now. Not once have I ever dreamed about any of the guys I’m hooking up with or thought about them while I took care of myself. It’s all so brand new and more than a little scary but something about him is impossible to ignore.
Why is he so different?
As I shut off the water and step out of the shower, I promise myself I’ll do better today, be stronger, and not allow him to get to me so much. I can and I will keep this arrangement between us casual.
With new resolve, I wrap a towel around my body before going back into the bedroom. Sunlight streams in through the large windows that cover the east wall of the room and I sigh as it warms my skin, a smile teasing my lips. I take one last look at the city of Baton Rouge laid out below me in the warm morning light before turning and walking into my closet. Thumbing through the racks of clothes quickly, I grab my favorite pencil skirt and a light pink button up blouse. After getting dressed, I walk back into my room and pick out jewelry when a flashing light on my phone catches my eye. As I saunter over to the bedside table, I anticipate Chance’s reply and a smile teases my lips. He doesn’t disappoint.
Chance:
Yeah, you sure as shit do have plans, Princess.
With me. I’ll be there around six.
Sinking into the mattress, I shake my head, unsure if I should feel annoyed he thinks he can just boss me around like that or give into the laugh I’m barely holding back. Honestly, what did I think would happen when I threw down the challenge? Did I really believe Chance would roll over and give into anything I wanted? I may have just met him a week ago, but I already know better. Chance is the first man that’s ever pushed me back when I tossed out my rules. He doesn’t let me walk all over him and run the show like I’m used to. All the other guys were happy to go along with whatever I said as long as they were getting laid but not Chance. Maybe that’s why I can’t seem to walk away from him. Maybe the challenge of getting him to give into me is making this whole thing more interesting than it normally would be.
I stare down at my phone and try to think of something to say but I can’t come up with anything. He wanted to ensure that he got the last word and it’s exactly what he will get. Glancing up at the clock, I bite out a curse and toss my phone on the bed as I rush into the bathroom. I’m running late—again—so I throw my hair in a low bun at the base of my neck and put on eyeliner, mascara, and a lip stain. When I look presentable, I grab my shoes from the closet and slip them on. I grab the phone off the bed just as it rings and my mother’s name flashes on the screen. A loud, dramatic groan slips out of my lips and I squeeze my eyes shut, contemplating ignoring her for a moment before I shake my head. If I don’t answer, she’ll just spend her morning calling me until I pick up and then chew me out for not being at her beck and call. Even though this is the last thing I want to do this morning, it’s less painless to just pick up the phone.
“Hello, Mother,” I answer, my voice clipped as I walk into the kitchen, my heels clicking against the bamboo floors.
“Carly, did I wake you up?” she asks, her voice sweet like she gives a damn if she woke me up, but I know the truth.
“No.”
If I had been sleeping, she would have scolded me on wasting my morning away in bed. Which would have inevitably led to how I will never land myself a decent man if I spend all my time in my apartment or at work.
“Oh, good. I was just calling to remind you about the gala this weekend.”
I hold in another groan as I slip my laptop in its case and grab my purse off the counter. In all honesty, I had forgotten about the stupid gala this weekend and I would have preferred to keep it that way. “Yep, I’ll be there.”
Even through the phone, I can hear her tsk and I roll my eyes. “Carly, what have I told you about speaking like that?”
“Mother, I promise you are one of the only people on this earth that gives a damn if I say “yep” instead of “yes”.”
“Carly Rae Mills, don’t you dare curse at me,” she hisses and my hand itches to end this call. “Now, what are you going to wear on Saturday?”
I scan through my closet in my mind as I rush out the front door and lock it behind me. I have plenty of dresses for the occasion but it’s impossible to know which one she deems acceptable for this event. “Uh, the blue one, maybe.”
“The blue one?” my mother asks, mocking me in the special way she does, and I already feel a headache coming on. “Please tell me how I’m supposed to know which blue dress you’re speaking of?”
“It’s the blue one I wore to the charity thing on New Years.”
She gasps in horror and I once again resist the urge to hang up on her. It’s too goddamn early for this shit. “Oh, god, no. Wear the black beaded one I got you for your birthday. It will look lovely on you.”
“Yes, Mother,” I reply through gritted teeth and wonder how much hell she would rain down on me if I really hung up the phone. No doubt, the black dress she’s talking about shows ample cleavage because my mother does not pass up an opportunity to set me up with my first husband.
“Good. I’ll see you this weekend, then.” She hangs up before I even have time to respond and I shake my head as I tuck my phone into my purse and step outside. The fresh air and bright sunlight makes me feel a little better and I decide to walk to work since I only live six blocks from the office. I can also grab breakfast and a coffee at a café along the way since I ran out of my house without caffeine - thanks to my mother.
I get halfway to work before I think maybe this was a bad idea. It may only be eight thirty in the morning but it’s still July in Louisiana and it’s the kind of hot that makes you think about moving to the arctic. A breeze quickly blows through the trees and I’m thankful for it as a bead of sweat rolls down the back of my neck. Thank god, I was running late and didn’t wear my hair down today or it would be a mess by the time I showed up at the office. My phone buzzes in my bag and I pull it out.
Izzy:
Drinks on Friday.
You in?
Me:
Absolutely.
Slipping my phone back into my bag, I can’t help but smile. Drinks with Izzy is exactly what I need if I’m going to survive a charity gala with my mother on Saturday. I’ve hated going to these things for as long as I can remember. No matter which event you attend or what cause they are championing, you can break all the attendees down into one of three groups. For my mother, it’s about socializing. She’s always on the hunt for her next ex-husband and a benefit full of rich, eligible men is her playground. There are also those who go because of status. All they care about is being seen there, letting everyone know just how important and well off they are and then there is the tiny group of people that go to support the charity. On the plus side, after I attend on Saturday, I can get out of going to them for, at least, a few months.
When I reach the coffee shop, I duck inside and let out a sigh of relief before breathing in the rich aroma of my second favorite beverage. Behind wine. The air conditioning feels like heaven and I consider calling Mercedes to see if I can work from here, so I don’t have to walk the remaining block to the office. There are a few people waiting in line, so I stand behind them and pull out my phone, noticing a text from Chance.
Chance:
Are you allergic to anything?
Me:
Just you.
A soft giggle escapes me as I stare down at the screen, waiting for his reply before I shake my head and glance up to see if the line has moved. I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to him. Whatever. What’s the harm in flirting with him as long as he and I are on the same page? If we both know this relationship has a shelf life, we won’t read into things like that. My phone buzzes in my hand and I’m smiling before I even unlock it.
Chance:
You wound me, Princess.
Me:
You’ll survive.
“Can I help you?”
My head jerks up and the barista smiles as I step forward and close the space left by the person in front of me in line. I glance up at the menu, even though I always order the same thing, before meeting his eyes again.
“Large vanilla latte with a double shot, please. And a blueberry muffin.”
He nods. “Coming right up.”
As he turns and makes my order, I glance down at my phone and reread my last text as a smile forms on my lips.
“You have a gorgeous smile,” a deep voice says. I glance to my left; my smile more forced than it was moments ago. He’s an attractive man but he looks like the kind of man my mother would set me up with and it makes him hideous in my opinion.
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me,” he practically purrs, flashing me a smile designed to make women swoon, but I see past him. His eyes hone in on me, a mission in his gaze and the calculating smile and designer suit say more than he is. My mother would absolutely lose her shit for a man like him. “I’m Damian Griggs. It’s nice to meet you…”
“Carly,” I supply and he holds his hand out. I reluctantly shake it as the hair on my arm stands on end and I can’t rip my hand away fast enough.
“Wait. Carly Mills?”
I nod, feeling uneasy. “Yeah.”
“I think I know your mother. Grace Mills?”
Of course, he does. It becomes clear this is retaliation for my outburst at breakfast and I have to bite my lip to keep myself from saying anything that would earn me an earful from my mother. I bet she took one look at him and had to physically stop herself from salivating over the possibility of hooking him up with me.
“Yep. That’s her.” I turn away to face the counter and wait for my coffee because I have nothing left to say to this man. I’m sure he thinks knowing my mother gives him some kind of advantage, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. Just as I think I may get out of here without having to speak to Damian again, I feel him behind me, closer than is acceptable for a woman you met only two minutes ago.
“I have to say, your mother’s description of you didn’t do you justice.”
Why am I not surprised? Laughing, I shake my head, refusing to turn around and face him. “Am I supposed to be flattered?”
He’s silent for a moment before softly chuckling in my ear. Goose bumps race along my skin and my body tenses in response. “Guess not. I like how you call me on my shit, though.”
The barista saves me from saying anything else as he sets my drink down on the counter in front of me and I offer him a smile as I reach into my bag. Before I can even touch my wallet, Damian steps forward and snaps his fingers at the barista.
“One coffee, black. And I’ve got all this.” He motions to my order as the barista nods and gets to work, rushing to complete his order.
“Thank you but you don’t have to do that,” I object.
Damian turns and leans back against the counter, slipping his hands into his pockets as he smiles at me. “And what if I want to?”
“I appreciate it, but I would just prefer to buy my food.” I grab a twenty out of my wallet and try to reach around him to lay it on the counter, but he stops me, wrapping his hand around mine with the money still in my fist.
“Please, I insist.” He smiles again, laying on the charm but all it does is creep me out more. I know guys like him. They were born into wealthy families and have more self-esteem than any one person needs—making them think every woman should drop to her knees as soon as they enter the room. I’ve been down this road before and nothing about it appeals to me.
The barista sets Damian’s coffee down and tells him the total but I’m not paying attention as I stuff my money back into my purse and try to grab my things so I can get out of here. I grab the muffin, but the coffee is just out of my reach and I contemplate if I really need it. As I think about going through my morning without it, though, I know the answer is a resounding yes. Damian turns, the same creepy smile on his face, and my coffee in his hand.
“Here you go, gorgeous.”
I force a smile as I take the coffee from him. “Thank you.”
“Do you have a moment? I’d love to sit and talk to you a little more,” he suggests, looking to the empty tables scattered throughout the café and I shake my head.
“Sorry. I’m already running late for work.”
Backing away toward the door, I try to look like I’m not running away from him even if that is exactly what I want to do right now. Lord knows, if I did that, my mother would call my phone within the hour to yell at me about manners before she started in on the man topic… again. Lord knows, I’ve already had all I can take of my mother today.
“Take this,” he says, handing me a business card I don’t want. “And call me whenever you’re free. I’d love to take you out.”
My smile is so forced I’m afraid my face may crack as I nod and duck out the front door, waiting until I round the corner before tossing the business card in a nearby trash can. The click of my heels against the sidewalk calms my heartbeat and as I walk the remaining block to work, I can’t help but think of Chance and compare him to my run-in with Damian. He’s different in every way and I can’t help but think maybe it’s not such a bad thing.