My Safe Place
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
My Safe Place
Steph Poe
I could not have done this without you, babe.
I love you.
Written by Steph Poe
Edited by Laura Hull of Indies Ink
Cover design by Dee Ellis of Indies Ink
Copyright © 2017 Steph Poe Romance
All rights reserved.
No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons living or dead, events or locales are entirely coincidental. Due to profanity and graphic sexual content, this book is not intended for anyone under the age of 18.
Special Warning: This novel contains elements of sexual assault that are critical to telling the character's story. These scenes may be a trigger for some. Discretion is advised.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Chapter 1
The feeling I get when my car speeds up to seventy as I merge with traffic is exhilarating. My windows are cracked. The sun's rays are warming my skin through the open sunroof. I've got the radio turned up, and my fingers drum along my steering wheel to the beat as I sing along with my favorite band. Ah, Mondays.
Believe it or not, I actually like Mondays. I know, most would think I'm crazy. Truth is, my job is busiest on the weekends, so Mondays are a relief for me. Although, running my own business doesn't truly allow for much rest. Let's just say Mondays are more calm than most days and allow me time to think and get organized.
Mondays mean evaluating and following up on the weekend's events. I run through the day in my mind. Friday night had been the dinner for the Rodney and Smith Law Firm at Reiser's Steakhouse. Saturday afternoon was the Harrison wedding at Fremont Botanical Gardens. Saturday evening, there was a ball held in honor of wounded veterans, hosted by Mayor Westin and his wife at the art museum downtown.
It had been a particularly busy weekend, but without too many incidents. Reiser's served shrimp cocktail instead of the planned shrimp bruschetta, much to the dismay of one of the firm's partners. My assistant and best friend, Ashton, remedied that situation and everyone left well fed and happy.
The Harrison wedding was lovely. The weather cooperated and provided a perfect seventy degree, sunny day. The ceremony and reception went off without a hitch.
The veteran's ball was a success, raising well over their desired goal of one million dollars. This cause was special to the mayor because he himself is a veteran, having served in the Marine Corps for fifteen years.
Ashton takes care of follow-up on our smaller accounts, while I personally contact the larger accounts. I'll call the mayor today to ensure that the ball had been everything he'd anticipated. Having the mayor personally endorse my company would be a huge boost for the business. Not that we aren't already doing well, but his recommendation would certainly aid in taking us to the next level.
I started Lake Maxwell Events four years ago, right after finishing my online business degree. I worked for another event planner during high school and before that, I helped in planning different family events. It started with my cousin's wedding. It was my passion, and I loved every minute of it.
For the past four years, I have been committed to growing my business, which leaves little time for a personal life. I've been married to my job. In all honesty, it hasn't bothered me too much. I haven't had great relationships in the past. One asshole in particular screwed me up pretty bad.
I put on my turn signal and merge right preparing to get off on exit 93. The sun is shining and I am feeling good, which is appropriate considering the song on the radio is titled "Feeling Good."
I throw my head back, shaking my blonde hair out as I sing along. It's going to be a great day, although I'm not planning on a new life as the song suggests. My life suits me just fine. I'm not lonely or anything. In fact, I'm great.
My car turns into the small parking lot of my office. I pull into the same spot I've pulled into for the last four years. The office is a single story, stand-alone brick building in downtown Indianapolis. Two large picture windows with black shutters frame the front door. The door is thick, solid mahogany with an old fashioned, brushed nickel door knocker and a lion's head at the top. A small, elegant black sign with classic white lettering above the door reads, 'Lake Maxwell Events'.
I look at the sign as I turn the doorknob and smile. I'm very proud of how far I have come in my life. My mother taught me that to get what you want in life, you have to work hard, and I always have.
As I enter, I am immediately greeted with the smell of fall, pumpkins and mulled cider. I love fall-inspired candles and we have them burning in the office pretty much year round. The smell of fall, for me, is a year round indulgence.
"Good morning," I say as I pass the front desk.
"Good morning, Lake. Can I get you some coffee?" Brynna, my receptionist, asks me as she stands up from her desk. I notice her blond hair is styled in a cute, flipped out bob. She is wearing a tea length white dress with a red cardigan, buttoned in the center only.
"I would love some. French vanilla creamer and one sugar please." I head down the hall to my office. The door is open when I walk through it and hang my bag on my coat rack. I remove my cell phone from my purse and head to my desk.
My desk is made of a rich mahogany, like the front door. On it sits my laptop, two blue Tiffany-inspired lamps, and a few picture frames. I walk around to my chair and take a look at the picture frames. I pick up the smallest one and gaze at it. It's of my mother sitting on a park bench and smiling with her hands folded in her lap. I had taken it on one of her better days when we took a day trip to Brown County State Park, four months before she died.
I let out a small, solemn sigh and return the frame to
its place next to the larger frame that encloses a photo of my baby, my golden retriever, Tubbs. He is the man in my life and I'm lucky that he's a great cuddler.
"Here's your coffee." Brynna enters and places a mug of steaming coffee on the desk. "Is there anything else you need from me? Do you want to review your schedule?"
"Yes, please." I pull out my planner and flip to today's date. "I'm expecting Mr. Calvin Ryker at ten today. He's a carpenter and custom furniture designer I'm meeting with to talk about the office remodel. I have a lunch meeting with Sadie to discuss flowers for the Overton wedding next weekend. So I'll be out of the office until two or three."
I look up from my planner at Brynna, who is taking notes on a small notepad. " I think we should all meet and go over our events for the next few weeks, but I need some time to review my emails first."
"Okay, should I plan on us meeting at nine?"
"Sounds great. Will you tell Ashton for me, please?"
"I'm on it." She turns and walks out of my office.
"Thank you, " I call after her.
I open my laptop and turn it on. I pull out my reading glasses from the top drawer of my desk and slip them on. Sorting through my emails is actually relaxing for me, even though it takes me a good part of an hour to finish and by then it's time for the meeting. I get up from my chair, grab my coffee and my planner and head out to the conference room reserved for meetings and client appointments.
The room has a large, round table in the center surrounded by six standard, black office chairs. The walls are a cream color with two windows on the far wall adorned with classic white plantation shutters. On the opposite wall hangs a collage of simple black picture frames of various sizes with artistic photos from several events that we have organized.
Underneath the collage is a short, solid wood bookshelf that houses albums with photos and schematics from past events. On top of the shelf sits a glass vase filled with a fragrant bouquet of soft orange roses and burgundy chrysanthemums bordered by ferns and other greenery. Did I mention that fall is my favorite time of year?
Unfortunately, the flowers are the only pop of color in the entire room, but that's something that will be remedied with the upcoming remodel.
When I first opened the business, I was most concerned with having a clean, orderly work area where I could have a blank canvas to arrange my ideas for my events. That way, I could customize the room to each client and specific event. Now that the business is doing so well, I'm ready to give the office more of a warm, inviting feel because that's what I love and what my clients have come to expect from me.
Ashton and Brynna are seated and ready to begin.
"Oh man, you guys are gonna kill me with these donuts!" I groan as I eye the box in the center of the table. My hand lingers over the sugar-filled confections as I decide on a plain cake donut, somehow thinking it will be fewer calories due to the lack of frosting and sprinkles.
"Sorry, Lake. I was badly needing chocolate this morning, " Ashton says as she unapologetically bites into her Boston cream donut. Her long brown hair is pulled into a messy top knot and some black smudges are under her eyes. She looks as if she hasn't slept but an hour or two. I make a mental note to talk to her later and make sure she is alright. I know she started seeing a guy weeks ago. I think his name is Steve. Ashton has been pretty quiet about this guy, which is unusual for her. I haven't even met him yet.
"Okay, let's begin." I start by discussing the weekend and commending everyone on a job well done. Our clients are content and I'm pleased with what a great team I have.
Ashton and I went to high school together. When I decided to start my business, she wanted to be my assistant. I taught her every event coordinating, planning, organizing thing that I knew. Before working with me, she worked as a dental assistant. She enjoyed it, but, being the creative spirit she is, she was looking for a way to express herself more. Not something you can do much of when you are in people's mouths day in and day out.
It's a relationship that has worked well for us. She's my right hand. We're getting so busy now, that I've decided to make her my partner and advance Brynna to my assistant.
Brynna has been my loyal receptionist for two years. Her positive attitude and chipper demeanor are just what I need to be around. If I'm having a bad day, she's always there with coffee and a funny story of her latest dating adventure to cheer me up. She's also super organized, which is perfect for my OCD tendencies.
After the meeting is over, I'm the last one to get up because I always double check my notes and make sure I have the important things we discussed organized in my planner. It's basically my life, aside from my cell phone, which is my planner back-up. I am busy transferring my paper notes and dates into my cell phone calendar when I hear someone walk into the room.
"Lake, your ten o'clock appointment is here and all I can say is wow. That man can build me some furniture any day of the week. Lord, he's a hottie!" Brynna lets out a sigh.
I roll my eyes at her. "Really, Brynna? That's real professional." I give her a teasing smile.
"Sorry, I just wanted to prepare you." She giggles and I can't help but smile back at her.
"Give me a few minutes to finish up and then you can send him in."
I finish entering my last appointment into my phone when I feel someone walk into the room. I set my phone down and prepare to get up from my chair when I look up and catch his eyes intently looking into mine. I stop breathing for a second and feel a flush spread over my chest and up my neck. The warm brown eyes continue their intense gaze into me.
Somehow I find my manners —and my breath— again. I get up from my chair and walk around the table to stand in front of him.
"Uh, you must be Mr. Ryker. I'm Lake Maxwell." I hold out my hand in a professional gesture. He takes a step towards me, extends a very muscled arm and takes my hand in a firm shake. The feel of his hand in mine sends delightful shivers up my arm and down my body.
"So lovely was the loneliness of a wild lake," he says, slow to release my hand. My brows furrow as I wonder what he's talking about. That's a strange thing to say when you first meet someone.
"Um, is that from a poem or something?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.
"Yes, a poem. 'The Lake,' by Edgar Allan Poe."
Well, this is interesting. I have this ruggedly handsome carpenter in front of me, and he's reciting me poetry? Talk about unexpected.
"Do you always quote great writers when you meet someone?" I tease.
He chuckles and looks down at the floor for a second. He brings his hand up and rubs his beard between his thumb and index finger. His eyes capture mine again. His expression is one of a kid with his hand caught in the candy jar: guilty, but too cute to fault him for it.
"No, I can't say that I do. Your name is beautiful; I couldn't resist."
"Well, thank you Mr. Ryker."
"Call me Cal, Lake." He still hasn't released my hand.
Hearing my name on his lips sends more shivers through me. I observe his lips turning up faintly at one corner, although his mouth is slightly hidden by a full brown beard with a few flecks of gray. My eyes find his again and I can't help but return his grin.
His arm drops to his side and I notice a tattoo on the underside of his forearm below his rolled up sleeve. It looks like some sort of bird. An eagle, maybe? He hooks his right thumb into the belt loop of his dark jeans. My eyes travel up his untucked blue, button- down shirt. The top two buttons are undone, revealing dark brown chest hair on a tanned, well-defined chest.
I look up and meet his eyes again. "Please have a seat, Mr. Ryker." I gesture to a seat across the table from mine.
"Just Cal, Lake." His voice is deep, sexy, and authoritative.
"Oh, right. Sorry, Cal." He gives me a full on smile revealing slightly imperfect, white teeth. He seems pleased to hear me say his name.
"What can I do for you, Lake?" My mind naughtily envisions him between my legs with his luscious beard tickling the inside o
f my thighs. I feel myself flush again across my chest and neck. I run my hand through my dark blond hair.
"Well, I am planning to remodel the office and would like some custom furniture pieces. I know I want to have bookshelves and a table to replace this." I gesture to the table in front of us. "I also want to have some display shelves made for out front, near the entryway."
"Do you already have a style or design in mind?" he asks. He sets a notebook down on the table in front of him.
"I want rich, dark woods. I want the office to feel warm and inviting. I love my desk so I was thinking maybe we could start there and you could build off of it." I stand up and point towards the door. "If you'll follow me, I can show it to you."
He rises from his chair and waits for me to walk past him and lead the way. I catch a trace of his scent as I pass. He smells of clean laundry and a woodsy scent, like fresh pine. It's intoxicating. I feel him following close behind me.
I walk into my office and he follows, closing the door behind him. I try not to be alarmed at him closing my door. With the door closed and just the two of us inside, the air feels thick and electric. I wonder if he feels it too.
I go over to my desk and walk around to stand beside my chair. He approaches and stops in front of the desk, never taking his eyes off of me. We stare at each other for what seems like an absurd amount of time when I hear a low knock at my door.
My throat is feeling dry, so I clear it and swallow before speaking. "Come in."
"Excuse me, Lake. Can I get you two something to drink?" Brynna asks sheepishly as her eyes run over the back of Cal.
"We're both fine, thank you." Cal says to her while not removing his eyes from mine.
"Thanks Brynna. I'll let you know if we need anything," I say to her as I catch her eyes widening and a very large grin spread across her face. She leaves, pulling the door shut behind her.
I'm grateful for her interruption, as it broke up the intensity that appeared to be building with our stare down. "So, here it is, my favorite piece of furniture. Well, in the office anyway."
He finally looks away from me and down at the desk. He runs both of his hands along the top of the desk and down the sides, really studying the details. I use the opportunity to really study him.