by Nina Crespo
Rafe tossed the earring on the bedside table. He and Alexa had indulged in a moment. If she had lived out some rich-girl-slumming fantasy by having sex with him, so be it. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe he factored into her life. Or that she was important to his.
Chapter Nine
Alexa juggled her black leather business satchel, purse, and a large cardboard cup as she pressed the elevator button.
The ding echoed in the near-empty lobby of NorthStar Transportation Solutions. In two hours, the eight o’clock Monday morning rush would fill the space.
First in, last out. That was her father’s work motto, and she followed his example. Undoubtedly, he was already in his office on the fourth floor. She’d catch up with him later to find out how his visit went with one of their long-time clients, who was also friends with her father and the president of a Connecticut-based nutritional supplement company. She’d relish the peace and quiet instead that came with being one of the early arrivals and get a jumpstart on work.
As the head of carrier relations, she was responsible for making sure the relationship between clients who needed items shipped and the carriers who moved the freight remained effective and healthy. At times, it felt like a dance where she and her staff were constantly moving from partner to partner. One misstep could easily lead to miscommunication or worse, an interruption in critical deliveries of every item imaginable to warehouses, retail enterprises, or individual consumers in the northeast.
On the way up, she inhaled the heavenly scent of fresh brewed coffee and took a sip. Pure nirvana floated over her tongue. After her busy weekend, she’d needed a bigger caffeine boost than usual to start her Monday. She readjusted her load and licked a wayward drop that threatened to roll down her hand and stain the sleeve of her emerald suit. With several meetings scheduled, she needed to remain alert.
The elevator came to a halt on the third floor, where most of the company directors’ office suites were located.
As she walked past closed doors to the end of the hall, her gold earrings swung near her cheeks.
She’d searched for her favorite gold-and-silver ones when she’d rushed to get dressed. Then she’d remembered that she’d lost one of them. She really missed those earrings. Maybe she should call the club and see if Rafe had found the one she’d lost.
Alexa swiped the keycard in the reader near the door to her office and went inside. Stop obsessing over an earring…and Rafe. They’d had a one-night stand. It was over. Putting her concentration where it was needed—her full schedule for the week—would delete him from her mind.
She passed her administrative assistant’s vacant work station on the right and went straight back into her office. The first rays of sunlight shining through two floor-to-ceiling windows on the wall to the side of her desk added a muted glow to the modern, furnished space.
After flicking the light switch, she settled into the plush cream chair behind the cherrywood desk and got to work.
A couple of hours later, a knock at her door prompted her to glance up from the spreadsheet on her computer screen. “Hey Dad.”
Her handsome dark brown-skinned father strolled into her office. “Hi sweetheart.” Jordan Cayne kissed her on the cheek. The smell of his woodsy aftershave lingered after he stepped back. “Busy day?”
“No more than usual. How was your trip to Hartford?”
“Same old routine.” He unbuttoned his blue pinstripe jacket then smoothed down his navy and burgundy tie as he sat in the chair in front of her desk. “Not enough golf and too many long-winded conversations.” Weariness shadowed her father’s face.
He usually carried the mantle of CEO with an energy that rivaled workers far younger than his fifty-seven years. Lately, though, he’d seemed a little worn down, but that wasn’t surprising considering all that had gone down with her and Brad.
A smile took over his face. “The good news is they’re happy with our services. They’re expanding and need to brainstorm a plan for pickups from their new manufacturing facilities. Someone from their distribution division will call you this afternoon.”
Good to know. Alexa made a note. She’d pass that information on to her assistant director, Beth, before the managers’ meeting that morning.
Her father’s stare remained fixed on her.
“What?”
“Your mother mentioned you two were supposed to have lunch this weekend, but you cancelled.”
“I’m behind on packing up the house. The timing wasn’t good for me.”
“And neither is upsetting your mother. She said you’ve been arguing with her all week.”
“No, she’s been arguing with me.” Alexa sank back in the chair. “I’m not trying to upset her, but she won’t accept my decision to move to Seattle.”
“You have to keep in mind that just a few months ago, she’d envisioned a different scenario for you. We all did.” A hint of sadness came into his expression. “Look. If you’re experiencing a time crunch with work and packing up the house, handing the reins over to your second-in-charge now could be a good thing for everyone. Beth can handle taking over on short notice. You could even move to Seattle earlier if you wanted. No one would blame you for doing it, considering all you’ve gone through.”
The look in his eyes said more than his words. Coming back to work after Brad had left her to face the staff, colleagues, and clients at NorthStar had been hard. Overhearing the water cooler gossip swirling around about her, Brad, and Karma, and enduring everyone’s pity had been even worse. Staying for six more weeks was nothing compared to that.
She gave him a reassuring smile. “Daddy, I’ve got this.”
In hearing the endearment she rarely used at the office, his expression softened. “All right then. I’ll let you get back to work.” He stood and came around to her side of the desk. “Just remember, your mother means well. Sometimes, it’s better to just keep the peace.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
He kissed her on the cheek before strolling out the door.
Minutes later, something about the conversation still bothered her. He’d just mentioned one of their biggest clients was expanding. Sure, Beth was capable. But transitioning management in the midst of outlining a major contract—how could that be good for everyone? Why would he even suggest it? Unless he was anxious for her to leave.
Just last month, she’d overheard an argument between her father and Brad’s in his office. It seemed to be about Brad returning to NorthStar after his extended vacation. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard her father say he didn’t want Brad back at the company. She’d asked her father about it later, but he’d brushed her question off as a nonissue. Brad was coming back after the gala. End of discussion.
Only, she knew, it wasn’t that simple. In the past, when her father and Evan Holloway had experienced differences, they’d never aired them within earshot of other people. The fact that she’d heard this conversation told her that this argument was serious.
Overall, her leaving earlier wouldn’t cause a ripple. But maybe her sticking around did…for her father. If she left now, she’d stop being the center of attention for all the wrong reasons. Her father wouldn’t have to referee disagreements with her mother, and he’d be able to focus on the company.
The calendar alarm on her cell chimed, signaling the managers’ meeting. As Alexa’s day sped by, the talk with her father took up space in her mind. She’d even forgotten to mention the supplement company’s expansion plans to Beth. Worse, she hadn’t informed her administrative assistant to find her when the call came in. The person had been handed off to Beth, who’d had no idea about the expansion. Luckily, Alexa’s second-in-command had pulled off the conversation without making them appear clueless.
By the time five o’clock rolled around, a faint, dull throb at her temples signaled the start of a headache. I’m done. Alexa turned off her computer. She hadn’t left work t
his early in ages, but if she was just going to take up space and feel miserable, she could do that at home.
An hour later, Alexa was back at her house, standing in the master bathroom, casual and comfy in a pink, long-sleeved hooded shirt and gray sweat shorts with pink trim. She rummaged through multiple bottles of pain reliever in the cabinet on the wall next to the sink. Brad had suffered regularly from headaches. Aspirin to extra strength pills had become a weekly staple on their grocery list. His headaches had grown worse in the months before the wedding. Once, during a conversation, his mother had vaguely implied he wasn’t being looked after properly. Alexa slammed the cabinet shut. What was she supposed to do? Monitor his habits, as if he were a child? Maybe that’s what Karma Sunflower had done for him.
She downed two pills with water scooped with her hand from the faucet. As she rose from the sink, the anger and sadness reflected in the mirror matched the pain welling inside of her. Alexa tamped it down. She’d always prided herself on having decent instincts. In retrospect, she’d ignored every sign of his cheating. She’d even convinced herself that their sex life dwindling to nothing was due to his workload. He just hadn’t needed her to satisfy him.
Thunder rumbled, and rain splattered against the curved picture window in the bedroom. The darkening sky cast shadows over the boxes near the dresser and in the two side chairs in front of the window.
Alexa laid on the four-poster bed and hugged a pillow. Truth be told, the thrill of having sex with Brad had started to fade for her, too. She’d even feigned sleep some nights to avoid intimacy, and she’d faked more orgasms than she could remember. When she was with Rafe, pretending hadn’t entered into any part of the sexual equation. She’d felt comfortable enough to just enjoy the moment, voicing what pleased her in bed. And Rafe had not only listened, but had delivered with every stroke and glide inside of her.
Was sex with him really that special? Or was she just making up for a sexual drought? As she adjusted her legs, the smooth texture of the taupe bedspread grazing her bare legs reminded Alexa of how Rafe had caressed her. She shivered. If only she could have more of him, like Cori suggested. When he’d kissed her, from her toes to in between her thighs, his lips had been so mesmerizing, she’d lost herself. Next time, she’d take control of the situation, starting with his kissable mouth.
Wait. There wasn’t going to be a next time with him. Well maybe there would be…in her dreams.
She set her fantasy loose, imagining Rafe lying next to her…naked. First, she’d start with his firm lips and enjoy the dueling glide of her tongue over his. Then, she’d bury her nose into the side of his neck and breathe in the spicy scent of his cologne on her way to exploring his hard chest. He’d want to strip off her clothes and touch her breasts, but she’d push his hands over his head and command him not to move.
His panty-melting grin would spell out his thoughts—he’d play along. For the moment. And she’d take advantage, trailing her lips over the tight ridges of his defined abs. As she circled his belly button with her tongue, she’d wrap her hand around his thick erection. His groans would spur her on as she stroked his hard length. Her mouth would water at the sight of pre-cum leaking from the tip. She’d lick the drops away before taking him deeper into her mouth and down her throat. He’d grip her head, raise his hips, and fight the need for his release. From the short time she’d spent with him, she’d learned Rafe wasn’t the type who liked to lose total control. He’d pry her away from him and flip her onto the bed. It would be his turn to please.
Rafe would start with her breasts. He’d tease her with gentle nips and his fluttering tongue before drawing her nipples deep into his warm mouth.
Her phone chiming on her bed yanked her back to reality. She’d told her assistant to tell anyone who needed her they could reach her on her cell. Alexa grabbed it from the nearby nightstand and answered it. “Hello.”
“Alexa.”
Rafe’s baritone raised a delicious shiver. Or was she imagining it was him, and it was actually some telemarketer trying to sell her a timeshare in Orlando? If it was some random marketing call, she might continue to talk to the guy, just to get herself off. “Yes.”
“It’s Rafe. You sound like you’re caught up. Is this a bad time?”
It was him. She couldn’t stop an emerging smile. Caught up? Definitely. As far as timing… “No. I’m just de-stressing from work.”
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh?” She flipped onto her stomach. “How?”
“I’ve found your earring. I thought maybe you’d like to come by and pick it up.”
Two simple sentences, but they held an explicit meaning. She and Rafe were playing the booty-call game. He called. She’d come, and at the end of the night, they’d part ways. Again. He was so smooth in his delivery, he probably hooked up with a new woman every week. No doubt, his conquests abandoned stuff at his apartment all the time. It wouldn’t surprise her if he had a drawer full of discarded items his one-night stands had left behind in hopes of a chance to retrieve their possessions and reclaim his cock.
“If being with him was that enjoyable, I can’t blame you for wanting seconds. After all you went through because of Brad, you deserve thirds and fourths.”
She also deserved something better than heartbreaking memories of being with Brad. Of his rejection. Having Rafe as a temporary consolation prize wasn’t all that bad. One more great night of sex. That’s all he wanted from her.
“Alexa, are you there?”
But was it wise for her to go back and live out her fantasies with him? Her mother would have a fit if it got back to her that she was fooling around with someone like Rafe. He wasn’t the straight-laced businessman with a large number of connections and an even larger bank account that her mother believed she should date. But Rafe wasn’t a date. He was ultimate satisfaction, wrapped up in a sexy package of short-term indulgence.
What did she have to lose? Alexa rolled to her back. “I’ll be there in an hour.”
Chapter Ten
Rafe set his cell on the kitchen counter, then flipped up the hem of his gray T-shirt and removed Alexa’s earring from the front pocket of his jeans. He laid it next to his phone. The plan had been to call Alexa and let her know she could pick it up from the part-time assistant that worked in the club’s office. But then he’d spent last night dreaming about her riding him with a white cowboy hat on instead of the black one she’d worn the other night. She was like an angel, moving up and down his shaft, driving him crazy in sinful ways with the clench and release of her tight, silky heat. He’d awakened just before he’d had a full-on wet dream.
Pretty Miss Rich Girl…
Sure, Alexa was all of that, and maybe she was just looking for a thrill, like Shannon claimed. But unlike in the past, he was in control of the situation. He’d make it clear that this was just a simple, uncomplicated sexual encounter. If she was into that, maybe he’d keep sleeping with her until his interest waned.
See? Simple. He still had an hour before she arrived. He may as well get some work done. Rafe slid his laptop closer to him on the counter. It bumped a stack of mail the club’s assistant had left for him on his desk in the back office. Two envelopes dropped to the floor. He scooped them up.
One had the name of an insurance company with a tagline encouraging him to make the switch to their stellar services. The other had a return address from Carl Dumond in Boland, Michigan.
His father had written him again. Bitterness tinged with hurt simmered inside of him. He still didn’t know how Carl had tracked him down. Hell. With the internet, it was easy to find anyone these days. Rafe turned the letter over. He traced his thumb over the closed flap. More than a decade had passed since he’d laid eyes on the man. Their last conversation had ended with him flipping his father off as he’d sped away, headed to Miami. Did Carl’s letter contain more insults? Growing up, he’d heard enough of them. After his father had had a few drinks, he’d go on about how life had dealt h
im a bad hand. Alcohol was also Carl’s truth serum about the past.
From what he’d gathered through Carl’s jumbled storytelling, his dad had started dating his mother, who was a backup singer in a local rock band, a couple of months before leaving for basic training with the Marines. His parents had planned to go their separate ways, but she’d gotten pregnant with him, and they’d decided to get married. A freak accident in basic training had ended his father’s dream of a military career, and they’d returned to Boland.
Rafe released a long breath. When he was almost two, a car crash had taken his mother’s life and spared his. His father made it clear he’d wished Fate had taken his son instead of his wife.
Rafe tore up the letter and tossed it in the trash can under the sink. He had nothing to say to his father and had no desire to read whatever bullshit he was spouting now.
He turned his attention to the financial spreadsheet from the past week that was on his laptop screen. Shannon was right. They’d made money on the Bash, more than anticipated. But to stay in the black, they needed more than just one lucrative night in Escapade West. Ever since they’d expanded the club to include the new area, they toed the break-even line too many times for comfort. One or two major, unexpected issues, requiring large cash expenditures, could strain them, possibly even break them. They had to find ways to consistently monetize the space.
Rain pelting the window pulled his attention from the spreadsheet to the clock on the screen of his cell.
It was a few minutes after the hour. Had the weather held Alexa up, or had she changed her mind?
Thunder reverberated with the knock on his door.
Anticipation spiked as he closed his laptop. He flipped on the porch light before answering the door.
The hood of Alexa’s knee-length raincoat partially shadowed her face. She smiled. “Hi.”
“Come in.” He moved out of the doorway.
