by Chiah Wilder
“Thanks for your help this evening.” Natalie smiled widely at me, and I returned it. Then I rushed to the door, needing to get out of there before I made a total ass of myself.
Glancing behind my shoulder, I said, “I’ll be back again soon.” When I reached the door and was at a safe distance from Trace, I stopped and turned around. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”
“I’ll walk you to your car. This neighborhood isn’t very safe.” He nodded to Natalie and took a few steps toward me.
“No!” I yelled out, cringing at the startled looks on his and Natalie’s faces. “I mean I’m good. I can manage. See you.” I ran out of there like a madwoman, feeling his eyes on me. A sketchy guy began to approach me, but I blasted past him and slipped into my car. I was more afraid of how Trace had made me feel than I was of a guy who could very well be a serial killer. Crazy. Get a grip!
When I saw Trace come into the parking lot, I switched on the ignition and sped away. He was probably wondering if he had a lunatic working for him, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t go where my body wanted to go. I just couldn’t. Besides, he hadn’t given me any indication he wanted to go there. Sure, he flirted with me, but that’s what men and women did. It didn’t mean squat.
As I saw an SUV swoop in and take the perfect parking space in front of my building, I cursed as I drove around the building numerous times. Finally securing a place four blocks away, I walked up the hill to my apartment building. Tilting my head back, I looked at the gray clouds, and when I felt drops of water on my face, I hastened my pace. It was even colder than it had been before, but that time it was welcomed, a freezing shower to rid my mind of all the thoughts that had been burning through it.
By the time I arrived at my building, I was soaked and shivering. I took the elevator to my floor, changed out of the wet clothes, made a cup of hot chocolate, and lay down on the couch, the Sherpa blanket my sister had given me for Christmas tucked under my chin. Images on the television flickered as I stared vacantly at it. I didn’t want to think of anything, just wanted to get warm and let my eyes seal shut as I drifted off to the escape of sleep.
Chapter Ten
Trace
I couldn’t get Cierra out of my head, and it was starting to become a problem.
Ever since we’d run into each other at the soup kitchen a few days before, I’d been thinking about her nonstop. She’d looked beautiful in a simple pair of jeans and knit top. And what the fuck was up with that sexy tattoo on the back of her neck? I couldn’t help but touch it, and her skin was so soft and warm. I’d almost brought my lips to it, kissing and licking every inch of her tattoo. Damn. She got to me. And I didn’t mistake the shiver that shook her and the way her flesh pebbled when I touched her.
I sucked in a deep breath and blew out, but my brain pulled me back to that little moment in the kitchen when I’d been undoing her apron and our fingers touched. It was like someone had shot me with a taser—I was frozen dead to the spot, wanting nothing more than to reach out and slide my hands around her waist, to pull her close so I could feel her ass grind against me. I wanted to slip my fingers upward to cup her breasts, to tug lightly on her hair so I could pull her head back in line with mine and kiss her deeply.
Focus! My pants grew tight and I clenched my fists to calm down. Mission Street Kitchen was the last place I ever thought I’d bump into her. And I seemed to be bumping into her a lot over the past couple of weeks.
“It’s fate,” my friend Sheila said as she speared a cherry tomato with her fork, then popped it into her mouth.
We were having dinner at La Luna, one of my favorite Italian restaurants in North Beach. I’d been coming here for years and was never disappointed. I’d called Sheila because I had to tell someone about Cierra, and I knew I’d be in for a ribbing fest if I said anything to my buds about it. Sheila and I had been friends since our first year in college. We’d tried dating our junior year, but it’d been stilted and weird, and we’d both agreed we made better friends than lovers. She was like the sister I never had.
“I’ve never seen you act like this before about a woman.”
“I don’t know what the fuck’s up with me.”
A devilish glint sparkled in her blue eyes. “You like her. A lot. I’ve been waiting for this to happen for so long.” She clapped her hands and laughed.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Immensely, but I’m also thrilled for you. It’s about time you met someone who means something to you.”
“Hang on. I’m just saying I’m obsessing over her because she’s hot and I can’t have her. It’s the forbidden that’s driving me crazy. I’m sure if we got together, I’d have her out of my system.”
“Are you sure about that? I don’t think so. In all the years we’ve known each other, you’ve never mentioned any woman you couldn’t get out of your mind. It’s not just the challenge. She’s getting into your system.”
“Fuck that.” Annoyed, I pushed back from the table. I wanted her to tell me that because Cierra was off-limits, it made her more desirable. I didn’t want to hear about her getting into my system.
“When I met Landon, it was the same thing. I denied it for a long time, thinking he was too good to be true, or that I didn’t want to give up my independence, and then it hit me like a ton of bricks. He was a great guy and I wasn’t giving anything up. I was actually enhancing my life, and we complemented each other. That’s when I realized that I really loved him.” She patted the slight bump on her stomach. “And now we’re going to have a baby. Some things you can’t fight.”
“That’s totally different. And who said anything about love? We haven’t even gone out on a date. Anyway, it can’t happen. My grandfather would have my head, and she thinks I’m a player. I just need to get back into circulation.”
“You’re impossible. I’m telling you to give her a chance. Your grandfather will be happy for you.”
“Only if it works. And you know me—I have an allergy to relationships.” I laughed and picked up my glass of chianti.
“But you do like her.”
It was a statement. I nodded. “At first I was attracted to the way she looked. I figured that since she was Kelsey’s friend, she was probably as materialistic and shallow as her. But then she came up to my office to go over the game plan for a new launch and I was blown away by her passion and intelligence. She ended up captivating me in a way no other woman ever has. And then she’s serving food to the poor and homeless. I can’t think of any of the women I’ve dated who would be doing that. If Kelsey had come down to help, it would’ve been amidst a fanfare of social media posts and martyrdom. She would’ve taken all the back pats in the world, but Cierra was just there to help, that was it. So now I’m thinking she’s not the shallow, money-obsessed chick I thought she was. I can’t figure out why she’s friends with Kelsey. Maybe I’m missing something here.”
“Hmm…. Why did you say she thinks you’re a player?” Sheila asked.
I explained about the tabloids and Kelsey and how I suspected she’d told Cierra a bunch of BS about me cheating on her and treating her horribly.
“Why don’t you tell Cierra the truth?”
“Like she’s going to listen to me instead of her friend who she’s known for a long time. I don’t think so.”
“Then she’ll have to get to know you, and when she does, she’ll doubt what her friend told her. You’ll see.” She smiled warmly, and then her eyes brightened when the waiter placed a large piece of chocolate hazelnut cake in front of her with two forks. She picked one up and dug in right away.
“You’re not going to share, are you?” I said.
“Yes I am, but you better be quick about it.” She took another large bite.
I laughed while shaking my head. “Go for it. I’m not much for chocolate.”
After devouring the cake, Sheila leaned back and folded her hands on her stomach. “That was awesome. When are you going to ask Cierra
out for dinner?”
“Never. I’ve decided to stop acting like a fucking teenager and more like the CEO of Velocity. I have too much on my plate with the business, and I can’t get involved with someone at work. That would be a real mess, and I’m not talking about my grandfather here. It wouldn’t work out. I’d blow it, and then it’d be awkward as fuck in the workplace.”
“That’s right, once you break it off with a girl, it’s ‘out of sight, out of mind.’” She winked at me and took out her wallet.
“Put that away. Dinner’s on me.” I whipped out my credit card and handed it to the waiter over her protests. “You can get it the next time.”
Slipping her wallet back into her purse, she said, “You always say that but there’s never a next time.”
“When you’re with me, leave your money at home. I don’t let women pay. Call me old-fashioned, a chauvinist, a caveman, or whatever, but that’s the way I roll. You know this.”
“Have you been called all of those things by different women?”
“That and much worse. Some of the names I deserved. I know I can be an asshole and a bastard, but I only get that way when I’m pushed. When I go out with a chick, I tell her that I’m looking for a good time, no commitment. Some of them are cool with that, and when it ends, it’s like ciao. No drama at all. But there’re a lot of women who say ‘no problem’ and tell me they want the same thing, and then when I’m ready to move on, I get the fucking soap opera. That’s when the nonstop calls start, the texts, bumping into me ‘accidentally’ at restaurants, coffee shops, and the accusations are the final straw. I’m accused of leading them on, lying to them, cheating on them, and a ton of other bullshit. And I was honest with all of them right from the start. It makes me want to join a monastery.”
She laughed. “I can’t see you donning a robe and hoeing a garden. Do you even know what a weed looks like?”
Picturing myself in a brown robe, hoe in hand, sandals on my feet, I burst out laughing. “No idea. I wouldn’t know which was the weed or the plant. I guess the monastery isn’t such a good alternative.”
“I’d say no. Women are complicated. We tell a guy we don’t want anything but a good time, but then when that’s all he wants, we feel slighted, used, and fucking mad. It seems men can compartmentalize things better than a lot of women. We need to feel cherished and loved, and when we’re having a great time with a guy, a part of us hopes he’ll see that his life is better with us in it. I guess it’s the Cinderella happily-ever-after ending we all want for our lives. Or at least a lot of us want it. Sometimes we don’t even know it until it happens.”
I paused for a minute, letting what she said sink in. “This is too complicated. I’ll take a botany class and join the monastery.” We both laughed as we rose to our feet and left La Luna.
On the way home, Cierra kept spinning through my mind. I thought about everything Sheila had said, and then I decided that my focus had to be on Velocity. We had an internal problem, a big launch coming up, plus several potential clients I was trying to get on board with the company; the last thing I needed was a complicated mess with a woman at work. If things went wrong between Cierra and me, it could blow up in my face in a seriously ugly way. I needed to find someone to get my mind off her. This was probably just sexual tension, and the most effective way to get rid of that would be to just cut to the chase and find someone else to work it out on.
And maybe it was time I did settle down.
I went into my condo and stared out at the twinkling lights reflecting in the bay. Running my fingers through my hair, I leaned against the glass window and stared into the night. I wasn’t oblivious to the fact that my reputation for going through women probably didn’t reflect too well on the company. It’d gotten to the point where, when you looked up my name online, those sleazy articles were the first things to come up. It made me look flaky, and for the wrong client, that could be off-putting. My grandfather had built his public image as a family man so carefully, married to my grandmother for decades and focusing most of his spare time on raising my mother, my aunt, and then me when I came along. Me taking over the company from him marked a sincere shift in the public image of the firm, from old-fashioned and family-oriented to modern and family-free. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but I’d need to be careful with the way it was read by the rest of the business world.
Pushing away from the window, I kicked off my shoes, sat on the couch, and put my feet on the coffee table for a few minutes. Then, with a clenched jaw, I took out my phone. If there’s anyone specifically invested in getting me a new woman, it’s Grandma. I tapped her number in slowly, drumming my fingers on the couch as I waited for her to pick up. My eyes flicked back and forth around the room, knowing that if I gave her this opening, there was no chance she was going to back down. But that was probably for the best. I needed someone to take control of that aspect of my life to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid with Cierra. I needed to keep working with her for the foreseeable future, so no matter how tempting one quick fuck would be, it would be the wrong choice.
“Hello?” my grandmother answered.
“Hi. How are you?” I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers.
“Good. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m doing fine. So, you know how you’re always talking about those women you want to set me up with?”
“I do,” she replied, her voice mostly cool and casual, but I could hear the excitement brimming at the back of it.
“Well, I’m in.” I tossed my hand in the air. “Go for it.”
“Really?” I could hear her shuffling papers at the other end of the line, as though she had a file that she’d been hanging on to for years, waiting for this call.
“Yeah, really. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Okay. Let’s see here….”
A small smile broke out on my face. It might not have been conventional, but letting my grandmother set me up on a date was probably about as good an idea to keep my mind off Cierra as anything else I’d come up with so far. And hey, who knew who she had in that long-awaited file of hers?
Chapter Eleven
Cierra
I couldn’t get Trace out of my head. It was that simple. The man was an enigma. The depiction of him in the tabloids and from Kels just didn’t add up to the man I was beginning to know. And the Trace I knew so far was a compassionate, smart, and hard-working man. Did that mean he’d be a good boyfriend? I wanted to think so. I mean, someone who cared about the plight of the poor couldn’t be a callous dick, could he?
I shook my head. There were definitely layers to him that he kept hidden from the rest of the world, and I liked that. He didn’t make it known that he built Mission Street Kitchen, or that he helped out in the kitchen. He didn’t want or need the accolades; he did it because he cared.
I chewed the eraser on the pencil in my hand. I had to stop thinking about him and get back to work.
Lindsey had returned the day before, and I was sketching out a design for another product that had just landed on my desk. Trace seemed to be busy enticing new clients, because our workload in my department went up tenfold.
“Are you busy?” Sofie asked as she came in and plopped in one of the leather office chairs.
I set the pencil down. “Not really. What’s up?”
“Colin hasn’t called me for two days. Should I call him?”
I sniggered. “You’re asking me for dating advice? I’m about as clueless as they come.”
“Aren’t you still going out with Cory tonight?”
“As far as I know. He said he’ll meet me at seven thirty.”
“See, he called. Why hasn’t Colin? I mean, send me a damn text or something.”
“Why don’t you send him a quick text to see how he is? A friend would do that. It’s not demanding or creepy. Just try.”
Without commenting, Sofie whipped out her phone and texted him. She leaned against the back of the chair and smile
d tightly at me. “There. Done.”
“Now you can obsess if he doesn’t respond,” I said.
“No. Please don’t say that. Please don’t.”
Watching the color drain out of her lips, I said, “I was only joking.”
“He’s just so perfect, you know?”
“I know.” I didn’t remind her that she’d told me the same thing about the two English guys she’d dated in the past six months. It probably wasn’t the appropriate time. I hoped Colin would call and put a smile back on her face.
When Sofie’s phone pinged, I cheered along with her. I really wanted this to work out for her. She was such a caring and wonderful person, and she deserved a nice man.
“He said he’s been sick with the flu and sleeping for the past two days.” The color was back in her lips.
“So that’s the reason you didn’t hear from him,” I replied as I watched her fingers fly. “What did you tell him?”
“That I’d bring over a pot of chicken soup. I think I’m going to leave at lunch so I can buy the stuff and make it.” She rose from the chair and walked out.
I picked up my pencil and started sketching again. I was excited to work on a new line of makeup we’d just picked up from a new client, Absolute Glam. I received a large bag full of eyeliners, lip glosses, powders, eye shadows, and mascaras. I was in makeup heaven. This was going to be such a fun campaign.
When the clock hit five, I was surprised how fast the day had flown by. I packed up my sketching pads, thinking I may look at them again after dinner with Cory, and headed to the elevators. A mass of people were waiting, so I went back to my office to answer a few e-mails I’d neglected. I’d wait until everyone cleared out before attempting the elevators again. I hated waiting in lines. It wasn’t that I was an impatient person; it was just that I thought it was an enormous waste of time to stand around. It was one of my quirks. To hear my parents tell it, I’d always been that way.
