by Cassy Roop
I found Cassie sitting at a corner table talking to a man with a semi-balding head and a round belly. I instantly recognized the man Cassie introduced to me the last time we ate here as Joe the friendly, sweet owner.
“Benvenuto bellissima!” Joe said in Italian. He was wearing a black polo shirt and a white apron covered in flour and what looked like tomato sauce. What little hair he had remaining was slicked off to one side as if to prevent his bald head from showing.
“Don’t call her that, Joe, you will give her a fat head.” Cassie said teasingly.
“Ha ha,” I said sarcastically back to her as I sat in the seat across from her. Cassie was wearing a gorgeous grey sweater dress with black leggings and brown suede knee high boots. Her blonde hair was slicked back into a high ponytail that only made her look like some supermodel. I would kill for that girl’s cheekbones.
“What can I get for the two most beautiful ladies in New York?” Joe said in a thick Italian accent. He knew how to flatter and he knew how to grab your attention. He was loud and funny.
“I want the meatball sub, Joe. I swear no one makes them like you do! I also want a side of fries and a diet soda.” She said as she looked up at Joe. She gave him a dazzling smile. The same smile that made men fall at her feet.
Joe nodded and turned to me, “And for you, Bella?”
“I’ll have the same thing, please,” I said as I handed my menu back to him. After my ordeal this morning I wanted nothing more than to put myself into a carb-induced coma.
Joe turned and started walking back towards the kitchen yelling in Italian to one of the cooks what we wanted.
Cassie focused her deep brown eyes on me. She took in the expression on my face and instantly went into supportive best friend mode. “What’s wrong, Kendall? You look stressed. Are you still overwhelmed by what happened this morning? I mean if Tristan Price came to my rescue, I’d probably just die. That man is too sexy for his own good.”
I sighed. She had no idea. Not only was Tristan Price responsible for my morning, but my frustration after the meeting as well.
“Where do I begin, Cass? Remember when Laura was looking for me when I was late because of what happened with Tristan? Well the meeting we had with the almighty bigwig CEO was with Tristan.” I let my breath out in a hurried rush as if it would make me feel any better.
Cassie slammed her palms down onto the table. “You're shitting me!” Her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Damn girl. What did you do? Did he recognize you? Did you sneak off into the supply closet and have hot, sweaty animal sex with him? Because I totally would have if I were you.”
“Whoa, Cass. One question at a time. And no, I did not sneak off and have hot, sweaty animal sex with him. Where do you come up with this stuff?” I asked her as heat crept over my body. I’d love nothing more than to have hot sex with Tristan Price.
Holy shit! Where did that thought just come from?
I haven’t thought about having sex with any man since everything that happened with Brett ten years ago, and here I was now thinking about jumping in the sack with Tristan Price. Joe approached us with our food and said, “Buon appetito!”
I continued after shaking off the image of Tristan running his hands over every inch of my body. “Tristan has made a deal with the magazine to do a personal interview.” I told Cassie. She paused mid bite into her first bite of her meatball sub.
“He what? He never, I mean never does personal interviews, Kendall,” she said as she started to come to terms with just how big this really is. “What do we have to do to get the interview?”
“He has five new luxury hotels opening in the next six months. He wants us to feature one hotel in each of our monthly publications. In exchange, he will give us his personal interview after the fifth feature. It is going to be marketed as a sixth month subscription deal to our viewers. They will only get the interview if they purchase the subscription.” I told her.
“Wow, that’s kind of brilliant actually. He gets marketing for the hotel openings and we get more people purchasing subscriptions.” Cassie said as she mumbled while chewing. She swallowed and then asked, “So why are you in such a tizzy?”
I ignored the food on my plate. My nerves had made me lose my appetite. I gently pushed my plate away and took a drink from my soda before I answered her.
“He told Laura that he wants me to be the one to write the pieces on the hotels.” I said nervously while my voice caught slightly.
Cassie looked at me and grinned. Not just any grin it was the kind of grin she got when she was about to cause mischief or was thinking something dirty.
“I knew it!! That man wants you, Kendall! First, he just happens to be your knight on a white horse this morning, then he just happens to want you to be the writer for the hotel projects. Maybe his whole idea all along is to take you to all his swanky hotels and have his delicious, mouthwatering way with you!” Cassie’s face was lit up like a kid who just got exactly what she wanted for Christmas.
“You are being ridiculous, Cass. Why the hell would Tristan Price want anything to do with me? You’ve seen the other magazine publications. He can have any blonde, busty bevel of beauties he takes to those events. I’m just a simple, plain girl from Texas who wants to make it on her own here in New York.”
“First off,” Cassie said as she held up her fingers, “you are not plain and you are definitely not simple.” She said with a little chuckle as she ticked off her fingers. “You are however a beautiful, chestnut haired, busty beauty.”
“You have to say that because you are my best friend. I am nothing compared to the girls he is used to. And anyways just because he wants me to write the pieces does not mean he wants me, Cass.” I told her as I started to munch on a French fry.
“Besides, I don’t think I will be doing the project anyway. I don’t think I could work with him. I don’t want to work with him. I just don’t trust him. He had to know who I was this morning on that sidewalk. He said in the meeting that he had read some of my work, so obviously he knew who I was. I don’t like people who hide things from me. Not to mention the fact that he looks so familiar. Like I should know him or something, yet he doesn’t say anything about it.” I ranted.
“Oh Kendall.” Cassie sighed. “Don’t let Brett control you again. Do not let him stop you from living your life, love. He is the reason you don’t trust men. You are still letting him manipulate you even from behind bars.”
My thoughts flashed back to the rape, my parents’ murder, and the trial. Brett was convicted of involuntary manslaughter. Not murder due to his claim of self-defense. He was only sentenced to fifteen years with the opportunity for parole. The bastard should be rotting in jail for the rest of his life.
I narrowed my eyes at Cassie. “That was a low blow Cass. That man took everything from me. Excuse me if I am not that trusting of the male species.” I said with hints of anger in my voice. Even though I know she was right, I would not give her the satisfaction of knowing so.
“You are right, Kendall. I’m sorry. I only want the best for you, love. I don’t like seeing you hold yourself back because of Brett. I do understand why you feel the way you do though,” Cassie said sorrowfully.
Great now I feel like an ass for jumping her.
We ate the rest of our meal in silence. I barely took two bites of my sub. I had to find some way to get out of doing this project. There was no way that I could work with Tristan Price and not want to jump his bones. A man had kind that control over me once already. I promised myself that no one would have that kind of satisfaction over me again.
Tristan
I couldn’t concentrate when I returned to my office. It wasn’t like I didn’t have enough work to do because I did. All I could think about was Kendall.
Later that night as I went to bed my thoughts kept drifting back to that morning. The feel of her hand in mine as I helped her off of the ground. The electricity that fired through my body with just the slightest touch was insurmount
able. Her beautiful blue eyes stared into mine. I couldn’t help but catch the slight flicker in her eyes as she tried to place where she knew me from. I could never tell her who I am. If Kendall were to ever find out who I am, there would be no doubt that she would hate me for the rest of her life.
I tossed and turned all night long as I fluctuated from hot dreams of Kendall and how her body felt beneath me, with dreams of murder and grief. I can’t help but feel responsible for the horrific events that happened eight years ago. I think my dreams are my subconscious telling me I don’t deserve her. I want her badly. I don’t think I have ever wanted someone so much in my entire life. I know that I should not want her, but I cannot find reason with my heart and my body to stop.
Finally after deciding that I was not going to be able to get anymore sleep, I rose out of my bed, and decided to get my workout in early. I glanced at the clock next to my bed. The red glow seemed to taunt me as it read out four forty-three am.
After using the bathroom and brushing my teeth, I dressed in a pair of black and red basketball shorts and slipped on a plain white t-shirt. I grabbed my favorite running shoes from the closet. If I cannot sleep because I was so frustrated, maybe I could pound out my frustration with a few miles on the treadmill. Thank God the gym in the building of my penthouse was top of the line.
Several miles turned into eleven. I ran until I felt like my legs would give out. I ran so hard and far that for only a few brief moments my mind wasn’t on Kendall, but on the burn in my legs and lungs. I stopped the treadmill and grabbed my towel to wipe off my sweat. My legs felt like jelly as I stepped off the treadmill and onto the floor. As I was making my way over to the exit of the gym, a striking blonde was walking in. Her eyes met mine and she gave me a sly, sexy smile. I was used to getting this reaction from women. I had pretty much my whole adolescent and adult life. Normally I would have stopped and asked for her name and flirted. I would have asked her out, where we would go out for a nice dinner with mediocre conversation. After a few drinks I would have went back to her house and fucked her until she was screaming my name.
I just gave her a small smile and a nod as if to say good morning, and walked out the door. What was my problem? I should turn around right now and go get what I want from her.
Your problem is that she isn’t Kendall.
I told my mind to shut up as I made my way back to my penthouse.
I showered and dressed for work. I chose my navy blue Armani suit and a silver tie. My father told me that a man always dressed for work like he was going to have the most important meeting of his life. It was something I had done ever since. Even after his death, he still had ways of communicating to me from our past conversations.
No one was in the office when I arrived at around seven-thirty. Most employees did not arrive until around eight or nine, so this meant that maybe I could get some work done.
I went to my desk and booted up my computer. I had numerous phone calls that needed to be made this morning, but they would have to wait until it was actually business hours. I started to check my emails when one caught my eye. I had not heard from my mother much over the last several years. She chose her husband over her family when she sided with him. I still felt sick to my stomach just thinking about it. Deciding to not put off the inevitable, I clicked on the untitled email next to my mother’s name.
Tristan,
I know you probably do not wish to hear from me, so I will keep this short. Brett is being released from jail on parole in six weeks. Something about overpopulation in the jail and that he had served most of his time anyway. I just thought you should hear it from me first.
~Mom
No. No. Fuck! If I had my way, that bastard would be in jail for the rest of his life. I cannot believe they would just let a murderer go free.
I sat in my chair with my elbows on my desk and my head in my hands. I wonder if Kendall knew. One thing was for sure, I had to get her on this project and soon. I will not risk that bastard coming after her. I knew that it would only be a matter of time before he did. If I could get Kendall out of this country and with me and my team, I knew I could protect her. I would not fail her again.
The opening of our first luxury hotel Luxe was set to open in five weeks. I needed to get Kendall to agree to do this project now sooner than later.
After racking my brain all afternoon about ideas to help persuade Kendall to agree to the project, I still came up empty handed. The only one good idea I could come up with was force. I could force her to do it by making it a demand that she be the one to write the pieces on the hotels or I will not do the interview. This I was reluctant to do. What if she still refused and then ended up losing her job because she refused me? Then she could possibly move back to Texas and that would be disastrous.
My secretary came in to hand me a stack of folders containing documents that required my signature. Martha was a plump gray haired sixty-five-year old woman. She had been with Cashman Enterprises for more years than I could remember. She worked for my father as his executive secretary prior to working for me. When my father past away, I took over as CEO and she stayed with me. I felt comfortable with this woman. Almost like a second mother. She definitely was better than my own mother. She glanced down at me and her brows knitted together. I know she was struggling with whether to question what was wrong with me or not. I finally glanced up at her and gave her a small smile.
“Mr. Price, you look stressed. Anything I could help with?” she asked me with concern in her voice.
“Martha, you have known me since I was in diapers. How many times do I have to ask you to call me Tristan?” I said to her with a smile. She smiled back at me. Martha was a welcome distraction, if only briefly.
“I need to convince someone to do something, and I don’t know how. Everything depends on her saying yes to this project.” I told her.
Martha’s smile grew wider. I knew that the only word she heard come out of my mouth was her. Her female instincts kicked in when she heard me speak about a woman.
“Why Tristan, do you have a crush?” Martha asked me teasingly. She placed her palms down on my desk and lowered her gaze to stare me in the eye. I knew she wouldn’t budge until I gave her an answer.
I felt heat deep in my belly. What I felt for Kendall was more than a crush. It was an all-consuming need to feel my body buried deep inside her so deeply that you couldn’t tell where I ended and she began. I had a need to possess her body and soul. A need to taste, feel and mark her as my own. To leave my scent on her body so that no other man would even think about getting close to her.
“Possibly.” I said with a small blush.
“My, oh my, has the mighty Tristan Price fallen in love?” Martha said taunting me, “What is the matter? Did the girl refuse you? Was she able to resist your handsome charm?” She had the biggest smile on her face. Martha knew that I could have any girl I wanted. Well almost any girl. Apparently she was awestruck by the fact that someone may had refused me.
“I’m not in love, Martha, don’t be ridiculous.” I told her. “I just haven’t quite gotten her to agree to do what I want her to do…yet.” I offered in a way of explanation.
She pushed back from my desk and turned to walk out of my office. When she reached my office door, she turned back around to face me.
“Honey, why don’t you do what you do best? Turn the heat up on that smile of yours. Hit her with your wit and charm. Woo her son.” Then she turned around and left my office closing the door behind her.
I thought about it for a while after Martha left my office. Could I try and charm Kendall into accepting the project? I had to do whatever I needed to do to protect her. Even if that means I have to pour out every seduction technique I had out from under my sleeve.
Could this really work?
I picked up the phone on my desk. Only one way to find out.
Chapter 4
Kendall
I was sitting at my cubicle editing an article that one of ou
r freelancers had submitted for our next upcoming issue. I was lost into the process when my phone rang on my desk.
“Kendall Jones.” I said in a friendly voice.
“Oh my gosh, Kendall! You have to come up to reception!” Rachel’s voice said into the speaker with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Why what is going on?” I asked her as my curiosity peaked.
“Just come up here, and you will see why.” She said impatiently and then hung up the phone.
I pushed save on the article I was working on and got up to make my way toward reception. When I arrived, I saw Rachel signing a clipboard and then handing it back to a delivery man. In front of her was a beautiful bouquet of flowers. I inhaled deeply smelling the aromas as the scent of the flowers already took over the reception space. There were a mixture of every different color of rose I think that had ever been grown. White, pink, yellow, red, they were all there. I even saw purple ones.
I didn’t know there were purple roses.
Rachel saw me approach and her smile was from ear to ear. She had a sparkle to her eye that said she was thrilled at the arrival at the flowers. I sighed. She must have someone special thinking about her to send something so beautiful.
“Wow Rach, these are gorgeous,” I said as I palmed one of the fragrant buds and bent down to get a good whiff of the sweet smell. “Who sent these to you?” I asked her giving her a friendly smile.
“On hun, these aren’t for me! They are for you!” Rachel said with excitement.
I was stunned. Who in the world would send me flowers? I don’t know anyone in New York. Well except for Cassie and the people with whom I work at the magazine. Cassie couldn’t possibly have sent these to me. She had Chanel taste, but a Nordstrom budget. These flowers looked like they cost a fortune. Probably enough to feed some small third world country somewhere.
“Looks like someone has a secret admirer!” Rachel teased. “Oh look, here is a card. Open it!” she said as she reached inside the bouquet to retrieve a small card.
