Chance

by Deborah Bladon

  I don't look up from my smartphone. "You must have a really big dick."

  "Fuck." His hand hits the desk with a thud. "You didn't just say that my dick is really big, did you?"

  "You have a big cock, Caleb." I glance up from my phone. "I've caught you staring at it. You know how big it is."

  He shifts slightly in his chair. He has an erection. I can tell by the way he's fidgeting. "I lost my train of thought."

  "You were telling me that Asher left for San Francisco." I tap out a quick text message to Clive telling him I'll be in the office within the hour. "That means that he took that job at the recording studio there."

  There's a long pause and I wonder if he's about to stand up and bend me over the desk. "I'm going to miss him. We've gotten close the last few months."

  It's been two months since Asher came back. He'd been in therapy and for some of the sessions his brothers had gone with him. They'd worked through a lot of his issues as a cohesive unit and when he told them he wanted to move to the west coast to experiment with a career in the music industry, they had both been on board.

  "I'm glad he went." I finally look up at him. "I'm proud of you for being so supportive of his dreams."

  A ghost of a grin pulls at his lush lips. "I was only supportive because you told me you were coming to work for me. I thought you'd take his place."

  "I never said I'd work for you, Caleb. I work for Clive. We've been over this more than a dozen times now."

  He leans back in his chair his arms stretching above his head. "You said you would work for me last night."

  "When you were eating me out?" I snap back playfully. "Newsflash Foster, when you have your head buried between my legs, I'll say just about anything."

  "I'll remember that Bell," he counters. "We need someone brilliant to head up the operations for Loire. They're lingerie boutiques. It's ideal for you."

  He may think that all of his pleading is falling on deaf ears, but it's not. I've been resistant to the idea of working with Caleb because I don't want to add any unnecessary strain to our relationship. I love the dynamic we have now. I spend most of my nights here with him and during the day he'll often stop by my office just to tell me how much he loves me. I ache when I'm away from him and since he's started sharing some of his ideas for the Loire division, I've noticed areas that need improvement.

  More than any of that, I've run the idea past Clive. He reiterated what he told me about wishing Lilly worked for him. He told me he doesn't want to lose me, but he recognizes the value I can bring to the Foster organization. He also sees how much I love Caleb.

  "Is that as high as you're willing to go?" I push the paper back at him.

  In short order, he's turned it around and written a new number. It's more than five times what I make now. It's more generous than he needs to be and there's no way I'd accept it as is. "We're getting closer."

  "Closer?" He spins it back around and studies the paper. "If I keep adding to this, you're going to make more money than me."

  "How is that a problem?" I counter with a smile. "I'm worth it. You know that I am."

  He crosses his legs. "If you're teasing me, Bell, you need to stop now. If you're not, I want to know point blank what it's going to take to get you to take over Loire for us."

  I run my index finger over my nose. I motion for him to hand me the pen. "Give that to me."

  He smiles at the tone of my voice. "Write down your bottom line, Rowan and I'll tell you if we can do it."

  I stare at the paper knowing that what I'm about to ask for will change the dynamic between not only Caleb and I, but me and Gabriel and even Asher too.

  I hold the pen above the paper and just before I start to write I look across the desk and into his eyes. "I love you, Caleb. I really love you."

  "You'll never love me as much as I love you. Never."

  It's the same thing he says every single time I say those words to me. It's what I want to hear each day until I die. I want to hold his hand, and kiss his lips and make love to him for the rest of my life. I write quickly, knowing that his eyes are focused on the paper.

  I look at him before I slowly turn it around.

  His eyes glide over the paper, then my face and then back to the paper. "You want this?"

  "Yes," I say confidentially. "I want that for a salary."

  "That's much less than what I just offered to you." He underlines the number with the pen.

  "I know." I shuffle closer to the edge of the chair." That's not all I want though."

  He leans forward so his elbows are resting on either side of the paper. "You want a percentage of Loire? You want us to give you a stake in that division?"

  There's a definite shift in the air between us. "It's a reasonable amount and it will push me to make the business a success."

  He looks to the right before his eyes settle back on my face. "You've been thinking about this? You didn't just pull this number from thin air."

  "No." I tap the toe of my shoe against his desk. "It's what I want. If you want me to oversee operations for Loire, you're going to need to give me a twenty percent stake in that division."

  "You drive a hard bargain." He cocks a brow. "You'll be working with Gabriel. Not me. You know that, right?"

  "I know that. I've already talked to your brother about it."

  "Why am I not surprised?" He throws his head back in laughter. "Has he already approved this?"

  "Verbally." My mouth curves into a smile. "I spoke to him when you were in the shower."

  "You know that you're making every one of my dreams come true." He stands quickly and rounds the desk until he's right in front of me.

  I reach up with my hands and he gently grabs them pulling me to my feet. "We're going to make new dreams together. I'm where I belong. This is the place I was always supposed to be."

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  "Do you think we can find some time next weekend to have dinner with Graham and his boyfriend?" I look back at where Caleb's resting on the bed behind me. "I feel like I've been neglecting him lately."

  "You have been." He pulls on the bottom of my ponytail. "Lingerie has become your life."

  I close my tablet before I roll over onto my back. "I want Loire to be a success. I want that for us and for our children."

  "Speaking of children," he begins before he takes my left hand in his. "You know that I'm willing to get you an actual engagement ring, right? When I proposed last month, that wasn't the way I envisioned it."

  "We were sitting in the garden at the house in the Hamptons. You turned to me and asked me to be your wife. How could it have been more perfect than that?"

  "I could have planned it. I have planned it. I wanted to do it on my birthday in Central Park. I was going to get a diamond and drop to one of my knees and…"

  "See." I rest my chin on his bare chest. "That wouldn’t have meant as much to me."

  He peers down his nose in skepticism. "You're telling me that my asking you to marry me on some random Sunday afternoon in a garden is exactly what you wanted?"

  I reach forward to brush my lips over his. "I'm telling you that it was perfect and this is the perfect ring."

  "Bell." He grazes his fingers over my cheek. "That is an eighty-nine dollar ring I bought at a vintage store a decade ago. It's not the perfect ring."

  I rest my head on his chest as I dart my hand into the air above us. "Look at it, Caleb. Just look at it."

  I feel him shift beneath me. "It's so small. There's no diamond."

  "This ring is every year you loved me. It's every time you ever said my name." I push my cheek into his skin. "It is all about a love that started so long ago that neither of us can remember it."

  He strokes my hair. "I don't think I could find anything that holds that much meaning."

  "I know you can't." I lower my hand as I twist around to face him. "This is the only ring I ever want."

  "We'll set a wedding date tomorrow?"


  "Before we go to work, we'll set a date." I rub my finger over his bottom lip. "I'm going to be Mrs. Foster soon."

  "I'll still call you Bell."

  "Promise me you'll always call me that." I slide forward to kiss his chin. "I love when you call me that."

  "Promise me you'll love me forever and I'll do whatever you want."

  "I've loved you forever, Caleb. That will never change."

  I close my eyes as I feel his mouth claim mine and I know that every tomorrow I'm going to have will begin in the arms of this man.

  Coming Soon by Deborah Bladon

  Preview of HAZE

  Featuring Gabriel Foster

  "How long have you worked here?" His voice is cultured, deep and smooth. It's not uncommon to hear a voice like that in this boutique. I've worked here for six weeks now and at least twice a week a man with too much money and an insatiable need to see young women dressed in expensive lingerie will come waltzing through the doors.

  "Welcome to Liore," I say softly as I glance to my left to where he's standing.

  I have to look up. He's large, not just in height but in his shoulder's breadth. His eyes are a rich brown, his hair just as dark. His nose is sculptured and his jaw has a definite curve to it. The suit he's wearing is dark blue, perhaps even black. It's hard to tell under the chandelier lights that decorate this opulent space.

  "Isla." His eyes fly over my chest before they settle on my nametag. "It's nice to meet you, Isla."

  "It's lovely to meet you…" I pause. It's not only because I've been instructed to grab the name of every customer to give them a personal shopping experience. I want to know his name.

  "Gabriel," he offers with a light touch of his hand on mine.

  The name is oddly familiar as I work to place it, I see him peering across the boutique at my boss. "Is there something I can help you find, Gabriel? Are you purchasing something for a girlfriend, or perhaps, your wife?"

  His expression shifts slightly. "I have neither."

  That's a pity but it's not. This is exactly the type of man I envisioned in my mind's eye when I arrived in Manhattan. I graduated from high school less than two years ago and my dreams of attending Julliard on a scholarship had vanished as quickly as my clean record when I broke one too many rules in high school.

  "Is there something in particular that you're looking for?" I catch the faint wave of the hand of one of my co-workers across the aisle. I ignore it because when a customer is ready to buy, the store could be engulfed in flames, and I'm not moving an inch. The commissions here are the highest I've ever earned in retail and the secret to guarantee a big sale is to make the customer feel as though they're the only one in the boutique.

  His eyes scan the various bras we have displayed before they move to the lace panties and garters. "If I asked you to try something on for me, Isla, would you do that? Would you take me into one of the change rooms with you?"

  I've read the employee handbook. No, I skimmed it briefly while on my way to work that first day weeks ago. The number one rule is to never take a customer into the rooms. Men who lead you into those quiet spaces are craving more than a private fashion show. I know that. "I'm sorry, Gabriel. That's against company policy."

  He studies my face carefully. The dark shadow around my blue eyes looks hideous in the alarming bright light of the morning, but in here it's sensual and alluring. My shoulder length blonde hair is straight today, a sharp contrast to my high cheekbones. I'm here to sell lingerie and the light pink wrap around dress I'm wearing accentuates everything it needs to. He hasn't walked away yet, so he's still primed to buy.

  He closes the short distance between us as he steps towards me. "You don't strike me as the type of young woman who follows all the rules."

  It's tempting. Not just because of the extra money I'd find in my pocket. "I don't follow rules, Gabriel. If you want a private show, I can come to your office after work."

  His brow cocks with the suggestion. "Is that something you offer to customers often, Isla?"

  I've never offered it before. "I only offer it to the ones who peak my interest."

  "I'll give you my card." His hand dips into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

  I take it from his long, elegant fingers and look down at it. I don't have time to read the details before my boss is upon us.

  I turn to look at her but she's staring at Gabriel. Her hand leaps to his shoulder.

  "Mr. Foster," she says slowly. "I see that you've met our newest girl. Isla, you're explaining everything we offer to Mr. Foster, yes?"

  I look down at the card of Mr. Gabriel Foster, the CEO of Foster Enterprises and the man who owns this boutique.

  "Isla has been very cordial." He reaches to brush his hand over my forearm. "She's coming by my office today. I'll expect you at four, Isla."

  "At four," I repeat back. "I'll be there at four, Sir."

  His eyes skim slowly over my body before they stop on my face. "Don't be late and bring those samples we spoke of."

  I freeze as his hand runs up my arm before he brushes past me towards the front of the shop.

  Ember - A Three Part Series

  "If you're coming back to my place I need to buy some condoms."

  The fork in my hand stops in mid-air. I don't look up. I can't. I've barely taken one bite of the roasted squash salad the waiter brought me not more than four minutes ago. This is New York City. This is the place where I thought I'd find the love of my life. What the hell was I thinking?

  "You're up for coming back, right?"

  My head darts up and I study him. This might actually be the first time I've seriously looked right at him. I'm on a blind date. Maybe the term itself holds more meaning than the literal. Obviously, I had no idea what Larry looked like before I walked through the doors of Axel NY a half hour ago. More than that, I couldn't have predicted that we'd be talking about sex before I'd finished my first glass of wine.

  "I don't know you," I say bluntly. "Why would I go home with you?"

  It's a question that borders heavily on rhetorical. I don't think that Larry's bright enough to weave those tangled pieces of subtly together. He's an assistant to a paralegal. That says a lot about his drive in life considering he looks like he's in his mid-forties. He's also dying to be fucked. He's not shy about it at all.

  "We're on a date, Bridget …" The words linger there on his thin, smug lips. He doesn't add to them because why would he? Those words have clearly and succinctly spelled out every intention that he has. They aren't masked in anything but the truth. Larry wants his dick to see some action tonight and I'm apparently the main attraction in that circus.

  "It's just a date," I explain. "I'd like to get to know you first."

  "Why?" He pushes the food from his fork into his mouth and chews.

  "I'm not interested in a quick fuck."

  His unruly brow cocks. "I heard you were up for just about anything."

  Fuck you, Zoe Beck. Fuck you for whatever the hell you said to him when you arranged this date.

  "I have no idea what my friend told you about me," I pause while I contemplate how to put this delicately. I stare at him. The wayward piece of kale that is stuck between his front teeth is only adding to the allure that is Larry.

  He leans forward on the table. The patch on the elbow of his inexpensive suit jacket brushes against the linen tablecloth. "This place isn't cheap. I brought you here because I thought you were a sure thing."

  A sure thing? A fucking sure thing?

  I wince at the words. "The only sure thing tonight is that you're going home alone."

  It's obvious immediately that Larry is contemplating those words with all the grace of a pack of wild dogs. His hand slams heavily against the spotless white linen tablecloth. "I didn't buy you that expensive salad for nothing. The least you can do is blow me."

  No, the least I can do is tell him to fuck right off. "I am not interested in you."

  "I'm not interested in you either." He flin
gs his napkin at me and it lands squarely in my squash salad. I was actually going to have another bite of that. "I like brunettes."

  Touché. "I like men with hair."

  Ouch. I can feel Larry's pain from across the table. Obviously no one, including all the brunettes he's been with, has pointed out the bad comb over that's happening on the top of his odd shaped head.

  'We're leaving now."

  I actually look to the right and the left to see who Larry is talking to. I'm gathering that he's still engaged in a conversation with me even though I'm trying desperately to ignore him. People are starting to stare and I have no aversion to a little extra attention, but tonight, I don't want to be the main attraction in Larry's sideshow.

  "Get up." He grabs tightly to my bare bicep and yanks hard.

  I cry out sharply. Considering the fact that most of my body is still stuck next to this table in a chair my arm can't leave with Larry. "Let go of me."

  "Is there a problem?" A deep, husky voice asks.

  I turn towards it even though Larry is still trying to separate my arm from my shoulder to take as a consolation prize. I look up into the dark eyes of a brown haired man. He's staring down at me with a noticeable look of concern on his face.

  "Hey," he calls across the table at Larry. "Enough. You're hurting her."

  "Get lost." Larry loosens his grip only momentarily. "My girlfriend and I don't need your help."

  Wait. No. Hell no.

  'I'm not your girlfriend," I growl at him. "Let go of my arm already."

  "You're coming with me." Larry pulls harder and I can't help but cry out in pain.

  Within an instant my arm is free and the lapel of Larry's jacket is firmly entrenched in the fisted hands of the handsome man with the dark eyes.

  "Are you okay?" He cocks a winged brow. "Did he hurt you?"

  "I'm fine." My voice is quiet and small. Maybe I'm not as fine as I thought. I lean my hands on the table, suddenly feeling dizzy.

  I hear movement behind me before I sense someone crouching next to me. "He's gone. Are you sure you're okay?"