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All for Love - Prequel

Page 2

by Natalie Ann


  That was why she came here drinking tonight. It was also why she moved out of her parents’ house months ago and found a roommate.

  She was sick of her father controlling every move she made. Sick of him telling her what her place was in life and where she should work, let alone live. It was more of the same today at work and enough to decide a drink was what she needed.

  She originally only agreed to take the job at Emma Willard in September so that she could start earning money to move out. But the longer she was there and the more she heard all the girls talking about their futures, the more she realized she could help. She could get them to see the big wide world and help them grab hold of it.

  And that’s what she was going to do. Starting tonight. She was going to start taking risks and she was going to start living a little recklessly out from under her father’s watchful eye. She was going to practice what she preached.

  Like a Woman

  William looked over at Isabel as she swept the floor in her nice skirt, pretty orange sweater—that he was guessing was cashmere—and her knee-high leather boots. Real leather, not imitation.

  Now that he knew where she worked, he was able to see she was completely out of his league just by her appearance alone. When she started to talk to him, he held back just enough to be polite but push her out the door.

  No matter how pretty she was. No matter how attracted he was to her. He wasn’t getting involved. He’d drive her home and drop her off and then get on with his sixty-hour workweek.

  He went back to mopping, moving closer to where she had stopped sweeping halfway in the room, forcing her to get back to work.

  “Have you always lived in this area?” she asked.

  She sure was nosy. He could still be cordial while he finished, but that was all. “Yeah. Been here most of my life.”

  “Did you go to college around here, too?”

  “I did. Went to Siena.” And had the student loans to prove it. Loans he’d be paying off for the next ten years, if not more.

  “That’s a great business college.”

  “It is,” he said, the idle chitchat just making him work faster. “What about you?” He wasn’t really that curious, but she seemed pretty chatty, so why not?

  “I’ve lived in Saratoga my whole life. Went to college at Skidmore.”

  Another ridiculously expensive private school. Guess it went hand in hand with her job at Emma Willard. “Did you go to school at Emma Willard first?” he asked.

  “I did.”

  Her high school education cost more than his four years of college. “So you stayed at home in college then?” he asked. That’s what he did. It was cheaper that way, and he still struggled to support himself. Then again, home meant living with his grandparents, but it still was rent free and he’d taken anything he could get.

  “No. I lived on campus.” She laughed lightly and it shot heat into places he shouldn’t be feeling with her. “I wanted to go away and that is what was acceptable to my parents.”

  He nodded, not knowing what else he could say at that point. She’d gone to a private prep high school, then a local prestigious college after. He’d lived with his grandparents because his mother had passed away and his father was never around much. He’d been struggling to rub two pennies together for years, but was damned if he was going to live the rest of his life that way.

  Isabel talked about taking risks, and that was what he did to move ahead in life. These next few years of trying to make ends meet were just his stepping stones. He knew it and he believed it. If only he could get others to believe in him, too.

  “We’re almost done here,” he said, finishing up the last little corner. He was ready to call it a night.

  She sighed, like she wasn’t ready for the night to end. But he had to work again tomorrow and he was guessing she was going to just stay home and relax. He’d been at it since six a.m.

  “Where do you want the broom and dust pan?” she asked.

  He was going to tell her to leave it, but decided they’d get done quicker if she followed him out back. Then he could push her out of his mind when she left. Only he knew that wouldn’t be completely true. He’d not only been watching her all night, he also knew he’d be dreaming of her for months to come.

  But dreaming about things didn’t mean he could have them. He knew that well enough.

  “Follow me,” he said, then stuck the mop in the bucket and pushed it toward the sink in the back.

  They put everything away, more silence between them. When they walked back out to get her jacket, a song came on the radio, a slow song. Something he’d never heard before, and really didn’t care to hear now when the last thing he wanted to think of was romance.

  “Why don’t you dance with me, William?” she said.

  “What?” he asked, looking at her like she was losing her mind. He didn’t think two glasses of wine would have made someone that tipsy, and she’d showed no signs of it…until she made that suggestion out of the blue.

  “You heard me,” she said, walking forward and taking his hand in hers. That spark again, the one he’d felt when he shook her hand earlier, now shot right up his arm and landed in his chest.

  “Do you always dance with strange men?” he asked. If she was going to flirt knowing all she knew about him already, then he figured why not? It was just a dance.

  “No. You would be my first.”

  He pulled her into his arms, put his hands on her hips, keeping some space between them. She wasn’t having much of that, though. Not when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in closer.

  “I know you know that isn’t the type of dancing I meant,” she whispered in his ear.

  “Maybe I’m trying to be a gentleman tonight,” he whispered back. The urge to lay his lips on the pulse beating at her neck was massive, but he wouldn’t be that forward. Maybe if he were on campus dancing with someone it would be different. But not with Isabel. Something told him she wouldn’t appreciate that boldness.

  “Maybe I don’t want you to be.”

  Okay, he was completely wrong. When she pulled him closer, their bodies touching as they swayed to the music, his hand lifted without thought, brushing her shiny hair off her shoulder and onto her back. It felt as smooth as he’d imagined it would.

  “What do you want then?” he asked. She’d asked earlier if there was excitement in the risk and the gamble. He’d always felt it before and did more so now.

  “I want you to not look at me like I come from a different world than you. I want you to look at me like a woman that I know you’re attracted to, rather than someone out of your reach.”

  He leaned back and caught her smirk. Damn, she was smart. “Why’s that?”

  “Because we’re both living in the same world right now. Standing in the same place. Everyone is just a person in this world and in this place. I’m dancing with a person right now. A person that happens to be a very handsome man.”

  Her fingertips were running along the back of his neck. That shock he felt earlier when she pulled him into the dance was nothing compared to the explosion he was feeling now. Nothing could stop the flood of sensations settling into his lower body.

  “So you’re telling me I should see the beautiful woman in my arms and not the high-end clothing, or prestigious school and impressive job you have.” There was no holding back the words now. The conversation was taking another turn. Risk and gamble coming out to play.

  “Exactly,” she said. “What I want you to see is me. I want you to look at me and say you’re attracted to me. That you’ve been looking in my direction all night. That you want to kiss me but are afraid I’d be shocked over it.”

  “So you want me to be honest,” he said, looking at her lips now. Those full lips, the bottom one that she was pulling into her mouth, her tongue coming out to move around the edge of it now. Teasing him. Taunting him to make a play for her.

  “Yes. Tell me the truth. I don’t like lying at all,”
she said, lowering her eyes to his lips. Inching in closer, almost making the move before he could.

  He wouldn’t let that happen though. No. Instead he closed those last few inches and put his mouth on hers. Tasted those sweet lips, pulled her tighter and held her hard.

  And when her fingers threaded through his hair and kept him in place, he didn’t see anything. All he felt was a woman that he’d thought he’d never be able to have—and she was holding onto him like she belonged no other place but in his arms.

  Intelligent Conversation

  “I’m sorry I left you last night.”

  Isabel walked out of her room the next morning in her flannel winter pajamas. The apartment she shared with Dawn was nice, and in a decent section of town, but it was old and drafty.

  “Why did you?” Isabel asked. Not that she was sorry that she was deserted by her friend and forced to find another way home.

  “The cab driver was getting annoyed. Said he wanted to get home, that the roads were bad, and no one was out anyway. We honked the horn for you a few times.”

  “I didn’t hear it,” she said. She was too focused on William and getting him to talk, to open up to her. She’d known deep down he wasn’t a dull, boring guy. That underneath the few short words he’d had for her was a man that had been admiring her all night. A man that wanted to make a move but was intimidated for some reason.

  She’d asked him about risk and gambling, and decided it was time to take some of her own. She was glad that she’d been right all along. That he really did want her but was almost afraid to take that step. She’d boldly guessed the reason why, took that risk and laid it on the line, then put a stop to those crazy thoughts and ideas he’d had that were holding him back.

  She had his number tucked right in her purse and she planned on using it. Hooray for boldness.

  “How did you get home? Did you have to call your father?” Dawn asked, wincing.

  Calling her father was a last resort. Isabel wouldn’t do that even if she found herself in jail. Well, that was a lie—she’d call her mother at the very least, but not her father. He’d only tell her that she wasn’t ready to be on her own and needed to move back home.

  “The bartender brought me home.”

  Dawn sat up straighter on the couch where she’d been lounging and flipping through a magazine. “Really? Do tell.”

  Isabel wasn’t sure how much she wanted to say. She’d only known Dawn a short time—when she answered the ad for a roommate. Dawn was a secretary at the local newspaper and had worked there a few years already. She was only one year older than Isabel, but Dawn hadn’t gone to college.

  Dawn was all about finding herself a husband right now and didn’t have too high of a criteria either, often bringing men home. Dawn seemed to think Isabel wasn’t aware when one of those men snuck out in the morning or the middle of the night.

  “Not much to say. He dropped me off and went home. It was snowing pretty hard last night.”

  “That’s it? You waited for him to finish working and he gave you a lift. That’s kind of boring. I thought for sure you’d get his name at least. He was watching you all night long.”

  Isabel grinned. “You didn’t ask me that. You only asked how I got home. But yes, I’ve got his name. And his number.”

  “What’s he like?” Dawn asked, bringing her foot under her leg and getting comfortable. “That dark hair and those dark eyes of his. He was pretty hot. Had this mysterious look to him. Dangerous, even.”

  Isabel laughed. “Not dangerous. I wouldn’t get involved with anyone dangerous and you know that. He was a little mysterious at first. More like quiet, but we talked. He’s really nice and sweet once he opened up.”

  “Sweet, huh?” Dawn said, frowning. “Dangerous is better.”

  “I’m not you, Dawn,” Isabel said. “I just want some guy who is interested in me. Someone I can have an intelligent conversation with.”

  Dawn laughed. “He’s a bartender. How much of an intelligent conversation could you have?”

  Isabel ground her teeth and walked into the kitchen. She didn’t want to say more, but knew she had to defend William. She came back a minute later with a cup of coffee, after she calmed down. “He only works there part time. He’s an investment broker,” she said.

  That caught Dawn’s eye. “So husband material, then.” Maybe it would have been better if she hadn’t added that part.

  “I’m not looking for a husband, either. And no. He just graduated from college in May, like me. He’s only been working there a few months.”

  “Oh. Still. Potential. That’s good,” Dawn said, not letting it drop. “So what intelligent things did you talk about?”

  Nothing. But Isabel was too embarrassed to admit that. She’d spent more time just getting him to speak in general rather than broaching anything interesting. “Nothing you’d care to hear about.”

  Dawn shrugged, accepting that answer, like Isabel knew she would. Dawn was superficial at best. “When are you going to call him?” she asked instead.

  “I’m going to wait a few days. He has to work this weekend at the bar anyway.”

  “Let’s go back again tonight,” Dawn said, looking excited.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Let’s go back and have a few drinks again tonight. No reason to even call him.”

  “No. I’m not desperate, and that smacks of desperation.”

  “I don’t think so,” Dawn said, shrugging, “but it’s your life.”

  “Exactly,” Isabel said. “My life.”

  ***

  “William, you got two calls this morning already while you were out. I left the messages on your desk.”

  “Thanks,” he said, taking his jacket off and hanging it on the rack behind his chair. His coworker, Alan, spent most of his time making cold calls rather than going out and meeting people. He did well enough, William supposed, but it wasn’t what William was hoping to do with his career.

  “It’s too damn cold to be walking around today. What do you do all day long?”

  William had told Alan before what he was doing. Even tried to get him to go along with him, but no one seemed to see the importance of it at this place.

  “I set up appointments with businesses. I go in and pitch retirement funds and building portfolios for them, try to get them to talk to their staff about it. Payroll contribution and matches. That’s what I’m looking at.”

  “Why? Just go after the big bucks. Focus on those with money. It’s easier that way.”

  Alan didn’t get it. “There is less in that market than the working class that need to just understand how to put money away for their retirement someday. I’m going for the majority right now. The untapped.”

  “Peanuts,” Alan said, waving his hand. “You’ll do twice as much work for half the cut.”

  “Never mind,” William said. There was no talking to some people.

  He sat at his desk and looked at the first message. It was a business he’d visited last week, a law firm. Encouraging, for sure. Most times he didn’t get a call back, but it didn’t stop him from hitting the pavement each day.

  The next message was from Isabel Carmichael. He’d only given her his home number and wondered why she was calling him here.

  It’d been four days since he’d dropped her off at her apartment. An apartment that was in a nicer part of town, but not the high-end section that he’d expected.

  Even after the second kiss they shared—this one in his car, the heater blasting on her face, pushing her hair around—he still didn’t think he’d call her.

  What would he say? Where would he take her out? She was probably used to fancier restaurants than he’d ever been to.

  He couldn’t very well invite her back to his place. All it consisted of was a tiny gallery kitchen, a bathroom, and a living room with a sofa bed in the middle. It was the only piece of furniture he had other than a coffee table that doubled as his kitchen table.

  So even
though he still had her number tucked away in his wallet, he really hadn’t had any intention of calling her. After a few days had passed, he figured she wasn’t going to call him either. Guess he was wrong and, truth be told, happy to be so.

  Her message said to call after four. Probably when she got home from school for the day. He’d see how the day went, if he bothered to call or not. Time yet to make that decision.

  Four o’clock came and went and he didn’t make the call. He’d picked the phone up a few times to do it, but couldn’t figure out what to say. Not here at work. Not with Alan within hearing distance.

  Part of him didn’t want to even return her call out of embarrassment. He had nothing to give her. Nothing to offer her. But the other part said to take that risk and take that gamble that he’d bragged about loving. He’d been a hustler his whole life, and he wasn’t going to change for anyone. If she didn’t like it, then she didn’t. But he was who he was, and it’s who he was going to end up being fifty years from now.

  He was just walking in his door at five thirty when he heard the phone ring, then rushed forward to grab it. “Hello.”

  “I finally caught you.” He’d recognize that sexy voice anywhere.

  “Sorry. I’ve been in and out of the office all day,” he said. It wasn’t a complete lie.

  “I figured. Your coworker said you weren’t easy to reach. He asked if there was anything he could help me with. I said no, fast. I think he was getting ready to read me some sales pitch.”

  “Probably,” William said, not surprised that Alan might try to steal some of his clients. He’d been playing tag with the other message he’d gotten today. It looked promising, if he could only get a second chance to talk to the owner of the firm this time.

 

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