by K. Webster
Mistake
Copyright © 2014 K. Webster
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Editor: Mickey Reed
Cover Designer K Webster
Cover Photo: Dollar Photo Club
Formatting: Champagne Formats
Table of Contents
My Books
Dedication
Quote
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Crushed—A Novella
A sneak peek into Trent’s story—coming soon in 2015!
Letters from Stadil
Acknowledgements
About the Author
My Books
The Breaking the Rules Series:
Broken (Book 1) – Available Now!
Wrong (Book 2) – Available Now!
Scarred (Book 3) – Available Now!
Mistake (Book 4) – Available Now!
Crushed (Book 5) – Coming Soon!
Disgrace (Book 6) – Coming Soon!
The Vegas Aces Series:
Rock Country (Book 1) – Available Now!
Rock Heart (Book 2) – Available Now!
Rock Bottom (Book 3) – Available Now!
Rock Out (Book 4) – Coming Soon!
Apartment 2B (Standalone Novel) – Available Now!
Love and Law (Standalone Novel) – Available Now!
Moth to a Flame (Standalone Novel) – Available Now!
Letters from Stadil by Anne Jolin and K Webster - Coming Soon!
This book is dedicated to you, my husband.
You’re my person.
“You’ll learn, as you get older, that rules are made to be broken. Be bold enough to live life on your terms, and never, ever apologize for it. Go against the grain, refuse to conform, take the road less traveled instead of the well-beaten path. Laugh in the face of adversity, and leap before you look. Dance as though everybody is watching. March to the beat of your own drummer. And stubbornly refuse to fit in.”
~ Mandy Hale, The Single Woman: Life, Love, and a Dash of Sass
First day of college…
You were a mistake. That was a constant reminder in my home when I was growing up. Momma took every chance she could to remind me of just that. A mistake for getting pregnant from a loser? A mistake for not getting an abortion or putting me up for adoption?
My entire life has been one big mistake. Every decision I make always ends up being the wrong one.
In high school, when I joined a drama class just because I thought the teacher was hot, that was a mistake. Turns out, I couldn’t act and the teacher hated that I was the worst one in the group. Both he and the class took their digs at me daily about how horrible I was. It was a fucking nightmare.
When I decided to get a job at a restaurant waiting tables so I could save to go see Olive in New York, that too was a mistake. After spilling coffee all over three customers in a single day, I was fired. Apparently, I wasn’t cut out for that sort of work.
At eighteen, when a fine-ass black man showed up on my doorstep offering to whisk me away to New York City so I could model, well… That was a mistake as well. Turns out, my naïve ass moved in with a psychopathic, sadistic shithead who was obsessed with my sister and just using me to get to her. Big mistake. Huge.
I’m tired of making mistakes. Once I set my eyes on the handsome investment banker, Trent Sutton, I knew things were going to turn around for me. In an effort to quit making mistakes and make something of myself, I chose to enroll at CUNY and get my bachelor’s degree in investment banking. That would get Trent to notice me.
For once, I was going to learn from my mistakes and start making better decisions. Things are going to change. I can feel it.
Nearly four years later…
I’ve been fucking friend-zoned. Sitting up in my desk chair, I quickly unbutton my top two buttons of my blouse and poke my chest out. The board meeting is about to start, which means Trent should be here any moment. How that man can resist my constant advances is beyond me. I can see the lustful way he appreciates my body, but he never makes a move. It is fucking annoying. Maybe he is waiting for me to get out of college? The worst thought is that maybe he just doesn’t find me attractive.
The latter makes me sick to my stomach. I spend several days a week in the gym building my muscle tone, and everything I eat is extremely healthy. I know that he notices my tight curves, but he never even tries to touch me. It drives me crazy.
“You look pretty today,” Andi compliments as she comes in with Jackson, who makes a beeline straight for the conference room while she stops at my desk.
Andi is absolutely gorgeous. Her long, platinum-blond hair is forever smoothed to perfection. She always wears sexy, form-fitting suits that accentuate her curves. Jackson, her husband, has a hard time keeping his eyes off of her even to this day. It makes me happy for her but sad that I can’t get Trent to lose his measured control for even a second.
“Thanks, doll. Board meeting,” I remind her, winking.
She giggles and throws a glance over at the front doors, where a group of men are entering. “If that asshole doesn’t notice you today, you need to fucking move on. Seriously, Opal. You’re gorgeous, smart, and spicy as hell. You need a man who will fall to his knees and worship you, not one who treats you like a little sister,” she sighs.
I frown at her words. Being treated like a little sister is worse than being fucking friend-zoned.
“Gross, Andi! Now go away. He’s coming this way,” I hiss and wave her away.
She chuckles all the way to her office, earning a glare from me.
“Good morning, Opal. How is your day?” a sexy, familiar, deep voice asks from behind me.
I suppress a shiver and swivel around in my chair to face him. He looks sexy as hell, like usual, in his navy, pinstriped, three-piece suit. His blond hair is perfectly styled, and like always, I have the urge to run my fingers through it and mess it all up. David Beckham has nothing on this man. Blue eyes twinkle at me as his lips curve into a smile. Those lips. God, what I could do to those lips.
“Cat got your tongue?” he teases.
Really, this man has no idea how much I want him. My skin burns, but I quickly recover. Not before I appreciatively run my eyes over his overly toned body though.
“Hey, Trent. Things are perfect now,” I breathe out suggestively and cock an eyebrow up at him.
His eyes do the thing they always do when I say thes
e things to him—they darken—but only for a moment. I don’t miss when they dart down to my fairly exposed chest, but then they are back at mine in a flash.
“Great. We’ll chat after the meeting, hon,” he says, grinning, before he saunters off to the boardroom.
I admire his ass until he closes the door behind him. Hopping up from my chair, I head to Andi’s office to explain in detail the latest encounter. Ever since I began working at Compton Enterprises four years ago, Andi and I have become extremely close. Olive and Pepper have their kids in common, which means they spend a lot of time together doing “mommy” things. Poor Andi and Jackson are still trying to conceive.
“Opal,” Bray calls out from his office as I walk by.
Stopping in my tracks, I peek my head in. “What’s up, bro?” I ask. And he is my brother in every sense of the word. He rescued me from Drake that night and I will forever be grateful. It was also Bray who treated my sister like nobody ever could—he loves her and my niece, Abby, with such an intensity that it can be felt by all those around them.
“Want to go visit Olive for lunch at the firing range?” he questions.
Typically, we go visit her at least one of the three days she works up there to help Jo. At first, Bray was overly insistent that she didn’t need to work. But my sister wouldn’t hear any of it. They didn’t need the money, so it was more about her getting out and having adult interaction. On many occasions, Jo has tried to sell the business to her but Olive hasn’t conceded just yet.
“That sounds great, Bray. Just holler at me when you’re ready,” I instruct and head next door into Andi’s office.
Normally, I wouldn’t bust into her office. I know that Jackson could be ravishing her on the other side. But since I know he is in the conference room, things are safe. When I walk in, I am about to start whining about Trent, but I realize she is crying. Quickly, I close the door behind me and rush to her side.
“Andi, what’s going on?” I ask softly as I stroke her hair.
She quickly dabs her eyes and looks up at me. Gone is the playful, happy friend. The girl staring at me harbors a sadness that guts her to her very core. “Oh, Opal, I’m just devastated,” she sniffles.
I hug her tight before moving back to the other side of her desk and sitting down. “About what?” I ask. But I know what she’s about to say before she even says it. Four years they’ve been married and she’s had five miscarriages.
“It happened again this weekend,” she whispers tearfully.
My heart clenches for her. I absolutely hate this for her. She’s such a kind, wonderful person who deserves a baby so much.
“I’m so sorry, Andi. Is there anything I can do?”
She wipes her nose and then sets to shredding the tissues anxiously. I have a feeling there’s more than the miscarriage going on right now.
“Jackson and I are going back to counseling this week. We’ve been arguing so much lately. When we have sex, it’s so calculated and timed with my ovulation calendar. There’s no more spontaneity. Jackson is patient, but I can see him faltering. He never says a word, but I know he resents me for this. I honestly don’t know what to do, so that’s why I set up an appointment with Dr. Sweeney. Jackson was pissed but never disagreed. Opal, I’m just so miserable,” she confesses.
My heart aches for her. “Andi, have you thought about other options? Have you tried in vitro fertilization? Have you looked into adoption?”
She reaches into her purse and pulls out a card. “I actually have an appointment this week to talk to this Dr. Ellis about our options. He comes highly recommended and is really good at what he does. If this doesn’t work, I’ll look into adoption. I can’t take any more of these miscarriages. They gut me, Opal. I’m an emotional mess afterwards.”
“Things are going to work out, Andi. Just hang in there. You know I’m always here for you,” I remind her.
She nods and attempts a smile. “Thanks, girl. Now tell me about Trent,” she demands, changing the subject. “Does he want to have wild sex with you in the conference room?” Her eyebrows bounce suggestively at me.
“I wish, but he doesn’t seem remotely interested. I swear, I feel like I’m in high school again, desperately crushing over someone unattainable like my drama teacher,” I grumble.
Her eyes widen and she giggles, her low moment from earlier dissipating. “Why does that not surprise me, Opal? Why don’t you let me fix you up with someone? I’m sorry, but Trent is just taking too fucking long. When was the last time you got laid?” she questions.
“Drake. He was my first and my last. My fucking vibrator broke from overuse too!” I exclaim. “I’m ready for things to turn around.”
“Oh my God. I know what I’m getting you for a graduation present,” she laughs.
I cock an eyebrow at her as I stand. “I’d prefer to have the real thing. If you can somehow manage to package up a vibrating Trent, I’m pretty sure you’d be my favorite person ever.”
“I’m your favorite person ever anyway.”
“True, but I think you better work on that present or else Jackson will take your place as my favorite,” I joke.
She rolls her eyes. “As if!”
Laughing, I make my way over to her and give her a hug before heading back to my desk. Then I bury myself in my work until the conference room door opens and the board members file out. Trent saunters back over to my desk and sets his briefcase down.
“How were finals? I forgot to ask and I’ve been wondering since you were especially having trouble in your international investments class,” he says, sitting on the edge of the desk.
My eyes trail up his muscular legs for a second before I make eye contact. “It was a fuck—” I begin but stop myself. He always frowns when I cuss, so I start again. “It was a nightmare, but I passed with a low B. I’ll be graduating in a couple of weeks and will be ready to unleash my investment knowledge on the world,” I laugh.
His eyes study my face for a moment like he’s seeing me for the first time. As he watches me, my heart pounds wildly in my chest. Not wanting to break the spell of him finally noticing me, I drop my eyes to my lap. I gasp when his large hand reaches over and sweeps a strand of hair from my face. Everything in this moment is very still. The temperature of my body feels as if it’s risen ten degrees. I’ve waited a very long time to feel this way.
My eyes finally dart to his, and I feel my panties dampen as I try not to inhale his unique scent. He’s regarding me differently for once. I’m not sure I can handle the things he is doing to my heart and mind. Crazy things.
“Well, I think that calls for a celebratory dinner. Would you let me take you to dinner tonight?” he asks in that sexy, deep voice of his.
My heart is on overdrive now. He’s never once asked me out. I’m almost at a loss for words. Almost.
“Sure, Trent. I would love to have dinner with you. And dessert too,” I suggest.
His eyes fall to my chest but quickly drag back to meet mine. This time, he licks his lips, and now, I know I’ll need a panty change.
“Here’s my card. Text me your address. I’ll pick you up at seven,” he says hoarsely and tosses his card on my desk. Then he quickly hops off the desk, grabs his briefcase, and stalks out the front door.
I have a date with the successful, sexy Trent Sutton. I’ve only waited four years for this day to come.
As Bray and I walk into the firing range at lunch time with our bags of food in tow, Olive is helping a man at the counter. His shirt says NYPD on the back, and it stretches nicely over his broad back. He is obviously a cop, and from behind, he’s a hottie. When Olive glances up and sees us, she grins. The man in front of her is bent over, completing his form, so she points at him and mouths, “Isn’t he cute?”
Bray grunts and stalks around to the other side of the counter to kiss her neck and whisper something in her ear, which produces a fit of giggles from Olive. I’m pretty sure he is claiming his woman in front of the officer. While I am grinni
ng stupidly at their exchange, the man turns around to see who is behind him. He is a good-looking black man—with his hair cut short and piercing, brown eyes. When he smiles at me, he flashes his perfect, white teeth.
A normal woman would take the opportunity to flirt with such a handsome man. Not me. My heart is already set on someone. I’ve worked hard for four years attempting to get Trent to notice me and I am not about to mess that up now. We are going on our first date tonight and I couldn’t be happier.
I am saved by the ring of my cell phone. Fishing it from my pocket, I wave to him before taking the call outside. I don’t recognize the number, but I will do anything to avoid talking to the man inside.
“Hello?” I ask breathlessly.
“Hi, Opal. It’s me, Trent. I hope I’m not bothering you,” he says smoothly. The sound of his voice right in my ear sends a shockwave of desire right to my core.
“Hi! Everything okay?” I question, secretly praying he isn’t calling to cancel our date.
“It’s great. I just wanted to tell you to dress up. I’m taking you somewhere fancy,” he replies.
“Um, sure,” I say. I want to keep talking to him but don’t know what else to say.
He’s silent for a moment on the other line. “See you tonight,” he finally tells me and then hangs up.
Why are things suddenly awkward? This is all I’ve ever wanted for four years. It is time to put my game face on. No more mistakes.
I am admiring my body in this black, form-fitting dress when someone knocks at the front door. After work, I not only bought a new outfit, but also spent an obscene amount of time on my hair and makeup. Everything is as perfect as it can get. The scoop neck of the dress gives a classy view of my cleavage. My dark-chocolate skin is smooth and glistening, and I am proud of my shimmering lotion that makes me subtly sparkle.
After hurrying over to the door and opening it, I break into a huge grin when I see a very sexy Trent on the other side, holding a bouquet of flowers.
“Opal, you look nice. These are for you,” he beams as I take the flowers from him.
