Left Behind (Lost & Found #1)

by C. L. Stacey

  Harper frowns at me. “What friend?”

  “I have friends,” I say defensively.

  “I’m your only friend,” she jokes.

  “That’s what I want you to believe, and then I turn right around and talk shit about you behind your back to my secret friends,” I joke back.

  “HA!” She chokes on her ice cream, and then she waves her spoon toward my phone. “Tell Kellan I say hey.”

  I nod without correcting her mistake, letting her assume what she wants. If I tell her I am texting Jackson, she’ll start a whole new conversation I’m not yet ready to have.

  I’m not even sure why I texted him. I just had the sudden urge to, so I did.

  Maybe it’s what he said during our appointment, something I couldn’t shake. He basically said that he has no real friends, so maybe this is just my way of reaching out to him.

  I wonder why he has no friends. He’s funny. Not always a joy to be around, but he’s funny.

  “Answer my question, skank!” Harper’s voice rips me from my thoughts once again.

  “Huh?”

  “How’s work?” she repeats the question.

  Oh, right. I thought to text him because Harper brought up work.

  “It’s good,” I say with a nod.

  “Is it?” She smiles, genuinely happy for me. “I’m so glad you like it.”

  I continue to nod. “Not sure if it’s what I want to be doing forever, but the people are really nice, so I like it enough for now.”

  “That’s my girl.” Harper smiles at me with her spoon hanging from her mouth. Then she drops the spoon into her empty bowl and sets it down on the coffee table in front of her. “So, are you ever going to tell me who this client is?”

  I shrug. “I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

  That was a horrible choice in response. I see that I’ve only steered this conversation down a road leading to more questions.

  “Just how big of a client is he? More importantly, how’d you manage to land him? Doesn’t the company have some sort of seniority rule? You just started…” she throws question after question at me, barely pausing to take a breath.

  I shake my head, cutting her off. “The other girls are afraid to work with him, and he sort of requested me.”

  “Afraid?” Harper frowns. “Lexi…”

  Another horrible choice of words…

  I wave my spoon wielding hand to quiet Harper so I could revise my answer. “No, I don’t know why I said that. He’s not scary at all. He just knows what he wants, so he’s a little picky,” I say in his defense. “You just gotta know how to handle him, which I do, so I’m good.”

  The look on Harper’s face tells me she’s not buying a damn word, like she’s suspicious of me hiding something from her. But I’m not. I spoke the truth. He is a man who knows what he wants, and he is extremely picky. Well, I guess that part is where I stretched the truth a little. But he doesn’t scare me—anymore—not in the slightest.

  My friend still appears unsatisfied by my answer. I roll my eyes at Harper, knowing full well what’s going on in her head right now. “Stop it, Harper, I’m fine.” When the worry lines on her face don’t fade, I set my empty bowl on the table next to hers and scoot in closer to her. “What can I say to make you stop staring at me like that?”

  “What, I can’t worry about my sister?” Harper asks with a sad smile.

  “There’s nothing for you to worry about,” I confidently tell her.

  Harper pulls at a loose thread on one of the decorative throw pillows resting on her lap. “Taking this job is a pretty big step for you, Lex. Now I’m learning that your client is some big shot that people fear. Don’t get me wrong, I am so happy for the positive changes you’ve made in your life, but as your best friend, I worry that you’re taking on a lot too fast.”

  I nod understandingly. “I get where you’re coming from, but it’s unnecessary. When will you trust that I am doing just fine?”

  “When you stop acting like you’re unbreakable.”

  My brows close in, pinching tightly together. “I never said—”

  “No, you never said. Because you never say anything anymore.”

  I can feel my patience slipping when I realize where this conversation’s heading. “Harper…”

  She shakes her head at me, her eyes pleading for me to quit with the quick defenses. “You can’t keep smacking Band-Aids over your wounds and call it healing, Lexi.” Harper takes my hand in hers and gives it a firm squeeze. “You are here.” She puts extra emphasis on the word, and I feel myself crush beneath the weight of it. “When are you going to stop acting like it’s the worst possible thing to ever happen to you?”

  ‘Never,’ I don’t say, but it’s exactly how I feel.

  “When it stops hurting,” I answer.

  My words bring tears to Harper’s eyes, and they say so much. They remind me of every repressed emotion, of all the anger and the sadness, and I can’t stand to look at them anymore, so I tear my eyes away and get up to take the bowls to the sink.

  Stephanie has decided to let me accompany her to an appointment with a special client today. The VIP of VIPs. Our boss. She’s received ‘outstanding’ progress reports from Jackson after every meeting we’ve had to date, and she’s satisfied with all the generous compliments he’s given me, enough to officially expand my workload.

  It’s thrilling to earn the trust of your employer. It’s nice in general to earn someone’s approval, but to have your boss truly value you makes life a whole lot easier.

  The idea of officially meeting Caleb has me excited, at first, but now I’m feeling anxious. Mainly because of all the weird warnings Stephanie keeps throwing at me.

  “He’s different.”

  “He’s a bit inappropriate. You gotta learn to ignore him sometimes.”

  “He’s a real joker.” I almost laughed when she said that one. Almost.

  “He can be offensive.”

  “Don’t take anything he says too personal.”

  “Don’t laugh too much. He’ll think you’re flirting with him.”

  “You may want to give him a good punch in the nuts sometimes. Don’t.”

  I have no idea what to expect.

  We are in the elevator now, riding quietly on our way up to the top floor where Caleb’s office is. The closer we get, the faster my pulse races.

  When we are just a couple floors away, Stephanie turns to face me, eyes appraising me. “Oh, God. He’s going to hit on you,” she says nervously.

  My eyes widen at that statement. “What?”

  I stare down at my red pencil dress, wondering if what I’m wearing is in any way inappropriate for the workplace. It isn’t. It in no way reveals anything inappropriate with its boat neckline and quarter-length sleeves.

  “Whatever you do, don’t quit on me.”

  What?

  The doors open before I can say anything else.

  We are warmly greeted by a young woman as soon as she sees us step off, sitting behind a desk as wide as the wall that separates two hallways.

  Unlike the other snobs that man any desk for any company in this city, this one seems to be very personable. And pretty. A dirty blonde with kind blue eyes, and she looks to be around my age, give or take a few years.

  “Hey, Bethany!” Stephanie greets back, then jabs her thumb over her shoulder to where I am standing. “This is Lexi, the new girl I told you about, ” she introduces me, and Bethany shoots me a friendly smile.

  When she gets to her feet, I see that she’s also tall, right around my height, and slender. I would bet good money that Stephanie is most likely the tiniest in the building.

  “Hi, there! My name is Bethany.” She extends her hand, and I immediately take it. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Lexi. I’ve heard great things.”

  “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, too.” I smile, noting the firm handshake Bethany gives me.

  “She’s rapidly working her way to becom
ing my favorite. Don’t tell anyone,” Stephanie tells Bethany, making me burst with pride. “Is he in his office?”

  Bethany nods. “He is. He’s currently on a call, but he’s asked that I bring you right in when you arrive. He’s running on a pretty tight schedule today.” She waves a hand in a common gesture for us to follow her, so we do. Bethany and Stephanie make small talk along the way, chatting about the event we’re dressing him for, and then their conversation naturally transitions into one about an upcoming photoshoot Stephanie’s set to work in a few weeks.

  We reach the end of the hall, now standing in front of an intimidating set of double doors. Bethany gives it two firm knocks before we’re granted access to enter from a deep voice on the other side.

  Bethany wraps a hand around the knob and opens the door wide, her body following it inside so she can stay clear of blocking Caleb’s view of us. “Your two o’clock, sir,” she informs him. He nods and waves us inside.

  The man is massively built. Huge. His broad shoulders are as wide as a brick wall. I’ve seen pictures of him in magazines, but holy shit.

  Caleb greets Stephanie with a boyish smile, and it brings such warmth to his face with its playfulness, eliminating any fear I may have felt earlier by his physicality alone. He has a thick mess of black hair, not a hideous mess, but the kind guys create on purpose with product. Dark lashes frame his eyes, making the color of his baby blues really pop.

  After returning the phone to its cradle, Caleb approaches Stephanie with open arms. His sleeves are covering them, but I think it’s safe to assume that whatever is under there won’t disappoint. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite stylist,” he greets.

  Stephanie lets him hug her, and I’m genuinely worried for her when his arms tightly squeeze around her frail frame. She looks like a koala bear being hugged by a grizzly. “Hey, Perv,” she greets him back. My eyes nearly pop from their sockets, but Caleb laughs off the insult. Or at least it sounds insulting to me, but it doesn’t seem to bother him one bit.

  Caleb’s eyes land on me when he finally notices that Stephanie didn’t come alone, and my heart does a crazy flip before dropping to my ass. I stand stock-still, clutching onto the handles of the accessory box as if someone is going to come and rob me of them. So far, Caleb hasn’t given me any reason to fear him, but the man is my boss’s boss.

  “Stephanie.” He speaks her name, but his eyes don’t leave me. “Who am I looking at?”

  “She’s the new girl I told you I hired,” Stephanie answers, half-distracted by her current task of unzipping the garment bags. “Her name is Lexi, and no, you may not fuck her.”

  Caleb laughs when my head whips in Stephanie’s direction. “Oh, my God, Stephanie!” I hiss.

  Stephanie crosses the small space until she’s back by my side. “My dear, you will thank me for that later,” she promises me.

  All the blood has rushed to my face, and I can just feel the color in my cheeks changing. I cannot believe she just said that to him, with me standing right here!

  “I’m harmless,” Caleb insists.

  “Says the devil,” Stephanie takes another dig, and my cheeks heat up even more.

  “Don’t mind her,” Caleb says in attempt to provide me with some reassurance. “This is how we express our mutual love for one another.”

  “Caleb, don’t use words you don’t understand,” Stephanie burns him again, to which he laughs. Again.

  They are crazy.

  “Oh, my God…” I utter under my breath, embarrassed as all hell to be caught in the middle of whatever this is between the two of them.

  Caleb starts across the room, taking his time to get to me before extending a hand. “Caleb Carlisle,” he introduces himself.

  I stare down at his large hand for as long as it takes me to blink and then I place my own in his. “Lexi Moore,” I say as confidently as I can.

  His smile is still intact when he nods. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  This guy can charm the panties off any gullible woman this city holds, I bet. He’s rich, powerful, and charming, but apart from all that, he is good-looking. Great-looking. Not really my type, but I see why his face graces the cover of tabloids every other week—with a different woman each time.

  I can see women getting themselves into a ton of fucking trouble over that face.

  “Likewise.” I awkwardly nod and turn my back to him to join Stephanie.

  I bend slightly at the waist to set my box down on the table and spread everything out so Stephanie won’t have any problems accessing whatever she may need.

  When I turn back around, I find Caleb’s eyes zeroed in on where my ass was just before. I am absolutely appalled by his shamelessness, and I turn my head toward Stephanie with a look that says just that.

  This happens a lot. I can tell by the exasperated expression on her face. What happens next, though, I am in no way ready for. Stephanie reaches down and picks a watch out of one of the many boxes I spread out on the table, and she chucks it at him.

  I gasp loudly, fully expecting for it to make contact with his head.

  This must happen a lot, too, because Caleb catches it easily before fastening the steel band over his wrist. The reflex is so natural, too natural.

  “Thanks, Stephanie.” Caleb doesn’t make any other comments about how she could have cut him, or worse, taken out an eye. He just casually accepts the watch she violently hurled at him as if it’s something she kindly recommends he wear.

  “You’re not welcome, you dirty slut,” Stephanie grumbles.

  I am getting a strange sense of déjà vu, like that time in Stephanie’s office when Jackson stormed in. I feel the same way I did then, like my head is mere seconds away from exploding.

  How do I keep finding myself in these situations?

  Oh, right… Stephanie.

  I keep letting her size affect the way I view her, but the woman is freaking feisty. Like Tinkerbell.

  I stifle a laugh when I change my mind and decide on a better character: Harley Quinn. Adversary to Batman. Accomplice to the Joker.

  “Let’s get started. I don’t have all fucking day,” Stephanie says to Caleb, and I quickly snap out of it, readying myself to focus on work.

  Without any further delay, Caleb starts to unbutton himself from his shirt, starting with the ones on his cuffs, and I look away.

  Stephanie frowns at me. “What are you doing?” she asks softly, keeping our conversation semi-private.

  “Giving him his privacy,” I answer, confused by the question.

  Her frown deepens. “What, you’ve never seen a man in his underwear before?” She chuckles.

  “No, I just…” I struggle for the right thing to say. “Not at work, I haven’t. No.”

  She’s puzzled by my answer. “How do things work when you dress Jackson?”

  “I send him to the bathroom.”

  An unattractive sound comes from Stephanie, like a sort of snort. “Seriously?”

  I shrug. “Well… yea…”

  “Jackson? As in Anderson?” Caleb’s question pulls my attention back to him and—Oh, my God.

  My eyes linger a beat too long on his naked chest before I look away again. “Um… I, uh… Um…” I stutter pathetically when my brain poops out on the ability to speak a simple ‘yes’ back to him.

  I am saved when Stephanie swoops in. “Jesus, a little privacy, please?”

  Caleb ignores her, his gaze trained on me, fully intent on getting an answer to his question. “Lexi?” He prompts me to respond.

  “Yes, as in Anderson,” I answer his question but keep my eyes averted from his half-naked body. “Why?”

  He evades the question and asks me another one instead. “How long have you been working with him?”

  “About a month or so.”

  For the first time since Stephanie and I walked through his door, Caleb doesn’t smile. My connection to Jackson seems to rub him the wrong way, for some odd, unknown reason.

&n
bsp; “Huh,” is all Caleb says. That’s it, nothing more.

  My eyes find Stephanie’s quick, curious to know what the hell that was about. She shrugs it off. “They don’t exactly get along,” she offers a vague explanation.

  “You get along with people you like,” Caleb says.

  Without actually looking, my attention shifts back to him. “You don’t like Jackson?” I ask.

  “What is there to like about the guy? Nothing,” he answers his own question.

  Now I’m the one rubbed the wrong way. Talking about someone this way when they aren’t here to defend themselves can only be defined as cowardly. Caleb is entitled to his own opinion, but he doesn’t get to speak for everyone else. What he said and the way he said it is cruel and uncalled for.

  There’s plenty to like about Jackson.

  Feeling the need to defend my new friend, I speak up. “I respectfully disagree.” My tone comes out a little bolder than I intend it to.

  I’ve got both of their attention now. Thankfully, both look equally amused instead of offended, and it gives me just enough courage to speak my mind. “He’s actually a goodhearted person, once you get to know him…”

  I’m cut off by Caleb’s short, mocking laughter.

  The longer I stand in the same room with this man, the more I grow to dislike him.

  I don’t know what I was expecting, exactly. I’ve read enough about him to know that he isn’t the most humble creature on Earth. But I didn’t expect him to be unkind.

  “Goodhearted person?” Caleb repeats my words back to me, the distastefulness in his tone impossible to miss. “Just last month, he had me pulled from my own party just so he could order me to fire my building manager. When I asked him why, he simply stated that the man was incompetent. That was it. Nothing more was said. The man is ruthless, without compassion. Where’s the good in someone like that?”

  When I recognize this story right away. He is talking about the night I met Jackson. I finally turn my head to face him, half-naked or not, I don’t care, and I give him my undivided attention as he goes on, spewing more hate for the man I’m openly defending.

  The strong intimidation I felt when I first saw Caleb resurfaces, taking root deep within my chest. Darkness clouds his charming baby blues, giving off a more menacing effect. “What I’m about to say goes for everyone. I don’t care who you are or what kind of relationship you think we share. You don’t march onto my territory and tell me how to run my company, or how to manage the people working for it.”