The Meant to Be Collection

by Claire Highton-Stevenson

  Her sister’s face reddened in an instant. “What?”

  “Outside, when I was coming in, a boy your age passed me looking a little shifty.”

  Robin giggled. “Miles isn’t shifty.”

  “Oh, Miles?” She playfully pushed Robin down the hall to the kitchen. “Your boyfriend?”

  “Just a friend.”

  Twice today Brooke had found herself looking into the eyes of a female and seeing the lie that lived there. “Just a friend, huh?” She smiled over at her sister. “A cute friend?”

  “Shut up.” She laughed and playfully slapped Brooke’s arm. “What’s for tea?”

  Brooke let her off the hook. It was good to see her sister happier. Since losing their dad, it had been tough for Robin. Those first few months while Brooke organised leaving the forces had meant Robin was shipped around between family and friends. Compassionate leave had only lasted for the first two weeks. Then Robin was packed off to their dad’s sister in Cardiff for two months until she kicked up enough stink about missing school and her friends. Yasmeen and Dev had been life savers when they offered to take Robin until Brooke was sorted. Now, six months on, Robin was smiling again.

  “Let’s get a take-away,” Brooke offered.

  “Yeah? Can we afford it?”

  Brooke shook her head, grinning. “What did I tell you, let me worry about money, okay?”

  “Okay. Fish and chips then?” Robin said, ready to go get her coat on.

  “Yeah, sure, but uh…can you do me a favour first?”

  “Of course, what is it?”

  Brooke grinned, an idea from earlier poking at her. “I need a photo of me in my uniform.”

  ~FI~

  As glasses of chardonnay went, this one was going fast. It was the second already from this bottle. Catherine Blake took another large gulp and sank down further into the bubbles, letting the heat of the water in the bath soothe her. She had been wound like a clock for days, and she knew why. It was bloody obvious why; Brooke Chambers was why.

  She took another gulp and swallowed it down with a satisfying smack of her lips. It was just her luck to meet someone who would ignite her nether regions along with her heart again, only for them to turn out to be the one person she couldn’t possibly date. What had she done to anger the gods that they would play such a cruel trick on her? And it irritated her that Brooke was right; it was farcical, and she did like her, but that didn’t mean it could be anything more than it was, did it? Because it couldn’t; anything more was just out of the question.

  Her day had been long, boring, and exhausting, with dull meetings and paperwork that she couldn’t concentrate on. She had gotten barely anything done. Thoughts of Brooke Chambers constantly invaded her mind. That was why she had had to remove her from the office in the afternoon. It was bad enough knowing she existed, that she was within the building, but when she was sitting outside of her office door Catherine could hear the low murmur of conversation, the occasional laughter and movement. All of it reminded her of their date – or was it dates? – not that it mattered now.

  Closing her eyes, she took deep breaths. A self-help book long ago from Ronnie had helped her to learn how to calm down. She wished Ronnie was here now. Well, not literally; their days of sharing baths and beds were long over. That didn’t mean, however, that she couldn’t call her up.

  Shaking the water from her hand, she reached out and grabbed her mobile from the loo seat (an impromptu table anytime she had a bath). A tiny green light pulsed, alerting her to a message.

  As soon as she had swiped a finger across the screen to wake it, she regretted it. Brooke Chambers’ name lit up. She slammed the phone back down and groaned.

  “Why?” she said to nobody but herself. Curiosity got the better of her though, and she found the phone with a fingertip search while refusing to look. She kept her eyes closed, right up until the phone was in front of her face, and then she swiped the screen and pressed against Brooke’s name – and almost dropped the phone into the water.

  The picture image that filled the screen was the last thing Catherine needed tonight. Her arousal levels were already going haywire since the night she had spent with Brooke. Just 48 hours of enjoying the feeling of being interested in somebody again, and then it was all wiped away in an instant when the fourth candidate of the day had strolled in and sat down in front of her.

  She glanced at the photo again. God, she looked good in that uniform. The tie was missing and the top two, or was it three, buttons were undone. The buckle on the belt hung open, as did the button to her trousers. Brooke’s stance was casual, leaning easily to one side with a hand in her pocket and a tilt of her head, the cap placed on top of her head. She zoomed in and out of the photo, examining every pixel. Everything about it said come and get me. Including the short message attached.

  Catherine could only imagine how sexy she must have been in a military uniform. Her body was a traitor. Her skin flushed and no matter how much she tried to ignore that tummy-flipping sensation that sent a pulse straight down to her clit, it was impossible. She needed to touch herself. If she was ever to ease this feeling of need and want, then she would have to give in. Her thighs squeezed tightly together, the water sloshing at the movement.

  “Dammit,” she said aloud, her voice echoing slightly in the small room. Her hand moved instantaneously to the right spot. Pressing down to relieve the constant throb, she was determined not to give in. She would not get off over a photograph of Brooke Chambers standing there with her left hand tucked inside her pocket, all casual and carefree. But she didn’t need a photograph; the images of their night together flashed constantly in her mind.

  Her fingers though, had a life of their own, moving in tight circles.

  “No.” She shook her head and yanked her hand from the water. Pulling the plug, she climbed out, straight into the shower. Cold water instantly brought about the end to this bout of arousal.

  “Damn you, Brooke!” she cried out as she slumped against the cold tiles and slid to the floor, hot tears streaking her cheeks.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Catherine Blake arrived on time as usual the following morning and found an empty office. Amber’s computer was on, so her colleague was at least here and wouldn’t be in need of a reprimand.

  A stack of paperwork sat neatly on top of the desk where Brooke had been stationed these past couple of days too, so there was life somewhere. She breathed a sigh of relief that Brooke wasn’t there, smiling at her and looking all sexy and…she shook those images from her thoughts and moved quickly to her own office. Closing the door with a thud, she leant against it and breathed out slowly. She had made it. Now, she could ensconce herself inside for the entire morning and then after lunch, send Brooke out with Paul for the rest of the day. Nodding to herself, she shrugged off her warm woollen coat and hung it on the hook. Its magenta colour stood out against the indifferent magnolia walls.

  It was a lot colder now on the way to and from work. November had definitely brought with it a winter chill. At lunchtime, she considered that she might head down into the store and purchase a new hat and scarf, and maybe one of those hot drink travel mugs. Then she could enjoy her morning tea in the car on the drive in, rather than swallowing it down as quickly as possible in order to beat the traffic.

  That was when she noticed it: right there in the middle of her desk, a cardboard take-away cup and a paper bag from the cafeteria downstairs. She opened the door and took another look around the office. Both Amber and Brooke had similar cups on their desks. Still no sign of either of them.

  Catherine closed the door again and considered the offering. It had to be Brooke. Not once had Amber, or Kim for that matter, ever brought her a hot drink from the café. They had made cups of tea in the office and usually offered to make one for Catherine if she happened to be there when the kettle was boiling, but she had always declined, and they had stopped asking. So, it had to be from Brooke. Kind, considerate, and generous Brooke.
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br />   She reached out a tentative hand and let the back of her fingers touch the container. Still warm. It was a nice gesture, but not one that she could entertain. Accepting the gift would encourage Brooke to continue. She didn’t wish to be wooed, not here at the office anyway. Curiosity got the better of her though, and she opened the bag gingerly. Pain au Chocolat. Her stomach traitorously rumbled, but she scrunched the bag closed, picked it up along with the beverage, and took them both into the outer office. She placed them down on the desk and turned to return to her office when she heard Amber giggling at something Kim had said to Brooke down the hallway.

  They all stopped in the doorway as each pair of eyes moved from Catherine, to the desk, and back to Catherine again.

  “I uh…” Catherine swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Thank you, but I have had breakfast.” She turned on her heels and promptly escaped the scrutiny.

  Amber and Kim both smiled sadly. “Well, I hate to say I told ya so, but…” Kim said. When Brooke had arrived earlier carrying a cardboard cup carrier with three teas and a coffee, along with a bag of pastries, she had said right away that getting one for Catherine was pointless; she had never accepted an offer of a drink previously. But Brooke had been insistent that it would be rude to buy for them and leave Catherine out. She left out the part of Operation Thaw.

  She had spent the previous evening filling Robin in on what had happened with Catherine, how obvious it was that there was an attraction between them and how she wanted to try to convince her that she was worth a shot. Between them they came up with their plan, starting with Brooke doing nice things, little things that were not too overt.

  Brooke shrugged off the embarrassed flush. “Oh well.” She picked up the bag, took out the pastry, shoved half of it into her mouth and chewed. “No point in wasting a good pastry,” she said, struggling to swallow it down with the lump that appeared in her throat.

  “It was a nice gesture, but now you know. Catherine Blake isn’t interested in us. She is the ice queen, always has been.”

  Brooke nodded. She understood how they could only perceive Catherine in that way, but she knew differently. Underneath this hostile exterior was a hot, molten and sexy woman, hiding from them all.

  The soft click of Catherine’s door shutting was barely audible.

  ~FI~

  Catherine didn’t leave her office the entire morning. When Amber, Kim, and Brooke returned from lunch, there was a note on the desk.

  Ms Chambers,

  I have arranged for you to spend the rest of the day with Mr Stone on the shop floor.

  I expect by lunchtime tomorrow for you to have completed all necessary paperwork and be up to date with all computer-based theory work.

  You will then report directly to Mr Stone and no longer be required in HR.

  C Blake

  “Well, it was fun while it lasted,” Amber said, reading the note over her shoulder. “We can still get lunch together though, right.”

  Brooke smiled at her new friend. “Yeah, when I’m not on silly shift patterns.” She grabbed her coat and headed for the door, with one final glance towards Catherine’s office door. “See you in the morning.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The following morning when Catherine came into her office, she found flowers. No note. Just a bunch of beautiful yellow roses. Initially, she smiled; it had been a long time since anyone had brought her flowers or even attempted to romance her. But then reality kicked in and she sighed. There had been no sign of Brooke anywhere, but she knew they had to be from her.

  “Amber,” she called out into the outer office.

  The young woman scurried in. “Yes, Ms Blake?” She too smiled when she noticed the bouquet. “Oh, those are beautiful. Shall I find a vase?”

  “No, you shall not find a vase. Please take these and do as you want with them.” She held her breath and waited for Amber to remove them from her desk. “And where is Ms Chambers? Is she late?”

  Amber lifted the bouquet and brought it to her nose, inhaling gently.

  Exhaling slowly, Catherine wondered for a brief moment if maybe she had been hasty with the flowers. Maybe they weren’t from Brooke after all.

  “No, Ms Blake. She uh…last night after you went home, she came back and finished off…she’s downstairs with Paul, I mean, Mr Stone.”

  “Fine, then back to work.” She was hopeful that maybe now, the gifts would stop, but something unfamiliar nagged at her: disappointment.

  ~FI~

  Paul Stone was a middle-aged man, balding, already with a slight paunch. He liked a quiet life; he liked the horse racing and a home-cooked meal. He didn’t go to the pub that often because he “couldn’t be doing with the kids that filled the place up and vomited everywhere.”

  What he did like however, was a “shipshape store and no little fecker’s getting their grubby little thieving hands on anything, not on his watch.”

  Brooke liked him. He was fair and honest and he didn’t take any prisoners. If she fucked up, she’d know about it, but equally, when she got it right, he would be just as full of praise. For the first couple of afternoons, she had just shadowed him around the store. He introduced her to other staff members and a few regular customers that knew him by name.

  “So, you know the layout now, right? Exit points and high-theft items. If they look suspicious, it’s cos they are suspicious. Don’t be afraid to be obvious, make them feel intimidated. We want them to know that Pollards doesn’t like them,” he said as they walked back through consumables towards the seasonal specials. “Christmas brings them all out, so peepers open at all times.”

  Brooke nodded and adjusted her cap, moving the peak down and into a more comfortable position. “Yes, will do.”

  “Brilliant, now I am going to pair you up with Potter. He started a couple of months ago, so you should have plenty in common and he can show you the ropes.”

  ~FI~

  She found Robin and Jas sitting side by side on the sofa when she got home that evening. Both were already in PJs and eating cornflakes from mismatched bowls. Brooke sat down opposite in the armchair and waited for the spewing of words that would come now she was home.

  “So,” Robin began, “Jas is staying over and I’ve roped her into Operation Thaw. I had to explain that as she thought I said Thor and was expecting a hunk of Swedish love to be waiting for her when we got home,” she rattled off at speed and with barely a breath between sentences. In fact, had she written it down, there would probably have been the grammar police knocking at the door for a lack of commas and an overabundance of exclamation marks.

  “Right,” Brooke replied, a little unsure whether this was a good idea still.

  “Oh, and there are only crackers and that hummus stuff you like for dinner, so we went with this. How was your day?”

  Brooke kicked off her shoes. “It was okay.”

  “Did you see her?” Jas asked. Placing her bowl down on the table, she crossed her legs underneath her and leaned forward with elbows on her knees, she rested her chin in her hands to listen intently.

  “Nah, I got in early, left the flowers, and went downstairs.”

  “But she got the flowers, right?” Robin asked.

  Brooke nodded slowly, her lips pressed together in a thin line that brought frown lines to her forehead. “Yeah, and then she gave them to Amber and told her to get rid.”

  “Dammit, she’s a tough cookie, anyone bought me flowers I’d be weak at the knees.” Jas laughed.

  “Only if it was Simeon,” Robin teased, nudging her friend with her shoulder. She stopped laughing when she caught the look of sadness on Brooke’s features. “Sorry, Brooke.”

  “Yeah, sorry,” Jas followed.

  Brooke sighed. “It’s fine. I guess she just isn’t interested.”

  “Oh no, no way are we giving up this easily, Sis,” Robin announced. She banged her bowl down on the table and stood up. “There is no way that the Catherine you describe is this cold-hearted cow, there
has to be more to it. She liked you enough to sleep with you, and up until you turned up at that interview, she was all for seeing you again.” Jas nodded furiously in agreement with her bestie. “So, all we need to do is up the stakes, make her see that you are the best option for her.”

  “Yeah, she has to come in to work tomorrow and find the one thing on her desk that she can’t ignore,” Jas agreed.

  Brooke shook her head.

  “I dunno guys, it feels a bit weird…she’s just not that into me.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The staff parking bays were almost already full when Catherine pulled into the car park. She had to drive up two different lanes before she found a space big enough to park her SUV. She still wasn’t really sure why she had bought the thing. It was much bigger than her last car, and it wasn’t like she was an off-roader who spent most of her down time squelching through mud. But she had to admit, it was comfortable.

  The car was now nice and warm inside, and she sat there and enjoyed it a moment longer before needing to step out into the cold morning air. This morning she had needed to spend five minutes scraping off the frost and ice from the overnight chill, and now she felt a different kind of shiver go down her spine as she contemplated going in to work. A Brooke Chambers kind of shiver.

  It was Friday; just eight more hours until a Brooke-free weekend. She had plans for a spa retreat, somewhere she could go and lose herself in pampering and self-indulgence and not think about Brooke Chambers. At least Brooke was out of the office now, which meant there would be no more surprise gifts left on her desk. It would be fine, she assured herself as she opened the door and climbed out.

  Passing through the store’s front entrance doors, she was greeted by Stan. He had worked here almost as long as the store had been open. Catherine knew this because she made it her business to know. When she had arrived at Pollards just under two years ago, she had gone over every personnel file. The previous incumbent of the position she held, Malcolm Turnbell, had been, according to Kim, a miserable sod who took little to no interest in the staff. Catherine never wanted to be a Malcolm Turnbell and yet, that was how her staff viewed her. She shuddered at the memory of Amber’s words. Catherine Blake isn’t interested in us, she’s the Ice Queen.