“Exactly!” Robert confirms and I can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm.
The cab pulls up to our destination and we get out. The club is a former historic mansion that is four stories, each story being a different theme. The building itself was built in the 1900s and looks majestic in its medieval setting with gargoyles sitting on the columns of the gated entrance.
After knocking on the door, we are ushered inside the building by a young lady who introduces herself as Crystal, one of the managers. She leads us to a conference room that is on the main level in the back of the building. She leaves us and I look around, admiring the wood paneling and leather decor of the room. The room is equipped with state of the art audio and visual equipment and seats twelve people around the oval wood table.
“This room is gorgeous. Remind me to ask him how much they would rent this room out as I know we would have clients interested in having a meeting here.” I pull out a notebook and write Robert’s request down. So engrossed am I in what I am doing that I fail to notice that the door has opened with the arrival of the general manger. Robert stands up to shake his hand and as I put my notebook down, I do a double take as I recognize the patent leather black loafers.
“Hi, I’m Torrin Richards,” the man from the pharmacy introduces himself, smiling at me like a Cheshire cat, as recognition lights up his eyes.
17
Layla
“That was creepy pharmacy dude?” Robert asks in doubt when I reveal who Torrin was once we are in the privacy of the taxi back to his office. Even though his smile indicated that he recognized me from this morning, Torrin remained completely professional and conducted business as if he had never met me before.
“Yes, that’s him,” I confirm, wondering if maybe I judged him too quickly from my encounter with him this morning.
“He can creep on me all day long if that’s what you classify as creepy.” Robert shakes his head, giving me a look as if I am crazy. “He’s damn sexy!“ I don’t disagree with Robert, Torrin is indeed sexy.
Robert’s phone vibrates and he looks down at it and then back at me with a smirk. “Layla, where’s your phone?”
“In my bag, why?” I start rummaging through my tote bag so I can find my phone. He starts typing on his own and places it back inside the front pocket of his suit jacket.
“Your Canadian lover is stalking you.” I finally locate my phone at the bottom of my purse to see I have five missed text messages and two missed calls from him, all sent within the last four hours.
Chase: Good morning, Angel! You probably didn’t sleep well since you occupied my dreams all night long.
Chase: Was that too cheesy for you?
Chase: What are you doing tonight? I would like to take you out to dinner.
Chase: Angel, are you mad at me?
Chase: Layla, please call or text me back. I’m getting worried.
My phone being underneath my notebook and laptop must have prevented me from hearing or feeling its vibration. I immediately respond back.
Me: I’m so sorry! I’ve been with Robert at a meeting and my phone was buried in my purse. I have to work tonight.
Chase: Glad you are okay. What time and where? I’ll meet you there.
I hesitate at answering him, trying to figure out what time I would be done meeting with the manager and bartender.
Me: Meet me at eight p.m. There’s a really good sushi restaurant around the corner that we can go to.
I quickly look up the address of the bar and include it in my response.
Chase: Looking forward to seeing you, Angel.
“Are you done sexting yet?” Robert asks, while trying to look over my shoulder at my texts.
“None of your business.” I click off my phone and put it back in my purse. Robert looks at me with a raised eyebrow, waiting for my response. “No, we weren’t sexting. We haven’t even had sex. We were confirming plans for dinner tonight.”
He gives me a mischievous grin and proceeds to pull out the box of condoms from his work bag. “Here, let’s split these. I have a feeling you will need them. Zero doubts that Chase probably wears an x-large.” He opens the box and pours half the condoms in my bag.
“Sorry, I can’t recall.” The lie runs smoothly from my lips as I completely recall seeing his erection bulging from his pants last night and noted his rather large size.
“You’ll be able to recall tonight after it’s in your mouth.” Robert throws his head back in laughter at my shocked expression. “Oh c’mon, Layla! It’s bound to happen sooner rather than later with the amount of time you’ve been spending with him.”
“We’re just friends, Robert,” I say, while I look out the window, not wanting to meet his gaze.
“Bullshit, Layla. There’s more to it and you just don’t want to admit it.”
His tone of voice makes me look at him. “He’s going back to Vancouver soon,” I counter back.
“Give him a reason to come back, Layla. If you did, he will be back in a heartbeat,” he says with a serious expression.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to get involved with anyone until I work more on myself.”
“While I agree that you need to continue your journey of self-improvement, you of all people should know that life is short and can be gone in a second. Don’t wait for happiness, Layla, when it might be within your grasp just because you want to make yourself better. You’ll never be perfect. No one will ever be perfect.”
I let my gaze linger on his before turning back to the window, his words resonating with me as we sit in silence. While Robert is right and life is precious and short, I still would like to check off some items on my self-help list before getting into a new relationship.
The taxi pulls up in front of Robert’s office. He gets out and turns around to help me. “Are you coming?” he asks when he notices I haven’t moved.
“No, I have my weekly meeting with my boss in thirty minutes so I should just head to the office.” I give the taxi driver my office address to program into his navigation.
“Ok, call me tomorrow, and I hope you have some sex tonight!” He shuts the door and waves at me through the window with a wicked smile on his face.
The rest of my work day moves quickly and before I know it, it is eight p.m. Once work is finished, I decide to wait for Chase in the booth the head bartender and I occupied while conducting our meeting. I slowly nurse the vodka tonic that he had waiting for me when I arrived. I never realized how much I was drinking on the job before now and am quite amazed at what a functioning alcoholic I had become. Not that it is something to be proud of. I decide to take a small sip, hoping that the melted ice has since watered it down while I wait for Chase. My eyes roam over the main area of the bar, noting how much more crowded it has gotten since I’ve arrived because of people coming to take advantage of Friday night happy hour. The booth I’m in is elevated higher than the main floor, but people have congregated by the entrance, making it hard for me to see who is coming in and out. A young group of girls standing by the door start whispering to each other and nodding their heads at whomever just walked in. Feeling confident that it’s Chase, I decide to stand up and see if I can get a better view of him to catch his attention. But instead of it being Chase, my eyes widen in shock as I attract the attention of the cool ice blue eyes of Torrin Richards.
How the hell have I never met this man before, but in one day I see him three times?
I immediately sit back down and scramble to get my phone to ask Chase where he is when I see that I already have a text message from him.
Chase: Angel, I’m sorry, I’m still stuck on a conference call with my brother. Come to my house and I’ll cook for you once this call is done. I promise to keep my hands to myself…for at least the first hour.
I groan out loud, wishing we had planned this ahead of time. I start to text him back, asking for his address when I feel the seat underneath me dip. I look up to see Torrin has taken it upon himself to sit next t
o me in my booth.
“How is it that I have grown up in this city and have never seen you before, but in one day, I get the pleasure of seeing you three times?” he asks the same question I had just been thinking.
“That’s really creepy as I was thinking the same thing,” I smile politely at him while trying to put some distance between us.
“I think it’s a sign.” His smile catches my attention, his white teeth almost hypnotic. His lips are the perfect shade of pink and look firm and inviting. I quickly glance up at him, only to see that he saw me watching his lips. I can’t help but shiver from the glint that enters his eyes.
“I don’t believe in signs,” I say and immediately gulp down the rest of my vodka tonic to calm my nerves.
Why does this man make me feel nervous?
He raises his hand and catches the attention of the bartender to bring us two more drinks. “Well, I believe in signs and I think I know exactly what fate has in store for you and I.”
18
Chase
I was feeling like an asshole when I texted Layla saying I was going to be late due to my conference call with my brother and our marketing director.
When fifteen minutes passed by after I sent her a text and I heard nothing, I didn’t think much of it as maybe she was still working.
When thirty minutes passed by and she still had not answered my second text, I was worried.
And when the forty-five minute mark came and went without a word from her, I was frantic.
So imagine how livid I am when I walk into the bar an hour later to see her having a good time with another man.
I’m fucking seething!
In order to calm down before confronting her, I order a glass of water and sit at the opposite end of the bar to observe them. The guy has his arm thrown across the back of the booth where she sits, his eyes trained on her chest as he says something to her that makes her laugh. Her laughter is loud and boisterous — not her normal laughter when she’s in control. I see an empty shot glass and a tall regular glass that has clear liquid with a lime in it that I bet is not water. When she looks in my direction and doesn’t acknowledge my existence, I know Layla is drunk.
And so does he.
He’s probably the reason why she got drunk.
I study him and can see why women might think he is good looking. He looks like he could be an MMA fighter dressed up in a suit. He wears his suit tight which makes him look powerful. Some women find power sexy.
I see him as anything but powerful.
I see him as a dangerous predator.
And he has his sights set on Layla.
I down the rest of my water and move slowly to their table. So engrossed are they in each other that they don’t even notice when I stand in front of their table.
“Layla,” I command in a strong voice, wanting to make sure she sees me this time. She looks in my direction and her eyes are watery and glazed in that incoherent alcoholic state.
“CHASE!” she yells so loudly that the man sitting next to her backs away from her. “You’re finally here!”
My anger lessons at her happiness upon my arrival. “Yes, I’m here because I was getting concerned when you didn’t text me back after I asked you to meet me at my house.”
Her face scrunches up in confusion and she looks back and forth between me and the guy next to her. She looks around for her purse, finds that it’s right next to her on the side not being taken over by douchebag and rummages through it until she finds it. She squints at the screen and then snorts out a chuckle.
“I wrote it, but forgot to hit the send button!” She starts to laugh hysterically and then slaps douchebag on the shoulder. “It’s all your fault as you were distracting me.”
“I’m very good at being a distraction,” he says in a flirtatious tone that makes me want to punch him.
“Oh, I bet you are!” Layla continues laughing hysterically and turns her attention back to me. “Chase, you’re not going to believe this. I met him in the convenience store this morning while buying condoms for Robert. Then Robert asked me to accompany him to his first meeting and guess who it was with?” She points to douchebag with an awed expression on her face. “This guy! And then, I was waiting here for you and he shows up instead! How much of a coincidence is all of that?” Her head sways down, the alcohol taking over her reflexes to hold her head up.
“Interesting coincidence. What did you say your name was?” I narrow my eyes at the hard look on his face. He removes his arm from the back of her seat and pushes himself out of the booth.
“I didn’t say.” He looks at me with disdain and then immediately hides it when turning his attention to Layla. “Thank you for letting me keep you occupied while your date was an hour late. I look forward to seeing you on Monday to go over the job opening.” He sizes me up before nodding his head at me and leaves.
As soon as Layla is more coherent, I’ll be grilling her on this asshole. Maybe I can talk to Cal to have his fancy private investigators get full details on him. I turn my attention back to Layla just in time as she sways while standing up from the booth. I wrap my arm around her waist to hold her up and carry her tote bag with my other arm. We walk outside and get into an awaiting taxi. Fortunately, with it being a Friday night, there are plenty lined up outside the bar. I give him my address and as soon as I’m done talking, Layla grabs my face and starts kissing me.
“Layla,” I groan, as she starts to trail kisses down my neck. Her hand is on my pants, fumbling with the button to my jeans. She manages to unbutton it before I move her hand away. “Not here, Layla. Let’s wait until we get to my place.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t want this,” she seductively says, continuing to move my zipper down and slip her hand inside my pants. To distract me, she brings her lips back up to mine and sears me with a hot, wet kiss. Her breath tastes like the signature cinnamon whiskey she enjoys and my control starts to slip. Her tongue slips through my lips and I moan as her hand touches my erection. She continues her assault on my lips and my dick, the outside world slowly starting to fade. She gently bites down on my lower lip, squeezing my shaft at the same time and I almost cum right there in her hand. Her lips leave mine and I watch in a daze as her head goes down to finish me off. My cock starts twitching at the thought of being inside her hot, wet, mouth but before she can latch on, I place my hands on her shoulders and pull her up.
“Layla, not here!” I demand and the tone of my voice not only gets her attention, but that of the taxi driver as he looks at me in his rearview mirror.
“Wow, since when did you become such a fuddy duddy?” she slurs, disappointment written all over her face.
I close my eyes and count to ten, praying that I can keep my control in check. We only have a couple more blocks to go until we arrive at my apartment. If making her mad keeps her hands - and mouth - off me, then so be it.
“The taxi driver might become distracted by hearing that succulent mouth of yours. I wouldn’t want us to crash, Angel.” I lean in close to her and whisper in her ear. “Just another five minutes and then you can have your wicked way with me in the privacy of my place.” I wink at her and this seems to placate her for the time being. What seems like the hardest five minutes of my life from refraining to touch her, we finally arrive at my apartment. I pay the driver and help Layla out and up to my apartment.
As soon as we get inside, I deposit her on the couch and go to the kitchen to get her a glass of water. “Did you eat dinner?” I question, feeling guilty that I let her down by not showing up on time.
“Nope!” Her emphasis on the word makes me smile. No wonder she’s drunk with the amount of alcohol she has imbibed on an empty stomach. I walk back to the couch with her water.
“How about I make you a sandwich? I’m sure you’re hungry.”
“I’m not hungry for food,” she says and proceeds to try to stand up, but dizziness from the alcohol causes her to sit back down.
“Why don’t you
watch some television while I make you a snack?” I don’t give her a chance to answer as I head back to the kitchen and prepare her some eggs and toast. I see her flick through the channels and settle on a movie. Eight minutes later, I carry a tray with our food out to her but stop short at the sight of her.
She’s slumped over, snoring in her sleep.
19
Layla
The first thing I feel when I start to regain consciousness is the slow, pounding hammer in my head. I try to open my mouth, but it feels as dry as a desert. My eye lids feel like they are weighed down with sand bags and refuse to open. I groan out in frustration as my limbs are heavy and unresponsive when I try to move.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” Chase says way too loudly for my ringing head. I’m one hundred percent confident that gorgeous is the last thing I look right now. I manage to open my eyes and see him sitting beside me on the couch. His beautiful chest is bare, his carved out pectorals and beautiful hard six pack abs on full display. His pajama pants hang low on his hips, showing off his sculpted V-shaped torso that disappears into his pants. My eyes scan his body up and down, my tongue immediately feeling thick as the desire to lick every inch of him grows. I snap out of my thoughts and look underneath the blanket at myself to see that I’m still fully clothed. I must have passed out on the couch and he covered me up with a blanket to sleep. My heart warms a little at the fact that he could have easily taken advantage of my inebriated state, but instead, was a perfect gentleman.
“Hi yourself,” I croak out, my throat feeling as if I swallowed a hundred nails. He hands me a glass of water and I give him a grateful smile. I take a deep swallow, the cold water putting out the flames inside my mouth.
“Are you hungry?” he asks and my stomach answers him in a growl. He laughs in his low, seductive way and stands up to head to the kitchen. “I’ll make us some breakfast. Make yourself at home and relax.” I lay back down and try to close my eyes, but visions of Chase’s half naked body keep appearing, making me feel very uncomfortable. I reopen my eyes and look around his apartment instead as a distraction from my inappropriate thoughts. It’s a small studio apartment where there are no walls separating the kitchen from the living room to the bedroom. Decor is minimal, reminding me that his time here is short.
Perfectly Lonely: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Let Me In Book 2) Page 10
