by Amy Briggs
Text copyright ©2018 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Romig Works, LLC. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original The Fidelity World remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Romig Works, LLC, or their affiliates or licensors.
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Fated
The Fidelity World
Amy Briggs
Created with Vellum
For all the cougars out there
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
More Kindle Worlds from Amy Briggs
Revelation
Saving Sarah
Tough as Nails
Uncovering Davidson
Also by Amy Briggs
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter One
Elise
The dramatic crinkling of the newspaper, followed by the huff of my assistant at his desk, signaled he’d be sashaying into my office momentarily. A grin spread across my face, knowing that I must have been on page six again.
Looking up over my glasses, I waited as he entered the double doors, waving the paper above his head. “Elise!” he nearly screeched out.
“Jase, what’s wrong?” Really, it could have been anything. I had a new line launching soon, and I’d been out and about quite a bit over the last few weeks, rubbing noses with New York City’s elite. All part of the usual networking and marketing. It wasn’t especially my favorite thing to do. I’d much rather be home reading a book or something else equally relaxing, but running a company where social marketing made a tremendous difference left me little choice but to go out in the evenings and be seen.
“Do you have something you want to tell me?” he asked, tilting his head like a puppy dog hoping for a treat.
“Whatever do you mean, dear?” I smirked. I honestly had no clue what was in the paper, but it must have been a good one for him to feel left out of the loop.
“Tell me that you’ve seen this!” He shoved the paper under my nose and sat in the oversized chair on the other side of my giant mahogany desk. The sun was shining on him from the floor to ceiling windows behind me, and as he squinted at me, he began to give me a sly smile.
“Okay, let’s see.” I peeked up over my glasses at him before reading, one of the perks of being forty this year, suddenly unable to read anything up close without straining, and took a look at the headline.
IS OUR LADY FITNESS MOGUL FINALLY IN A RELATIONSHIP?
Below that, was a picture of me with a martini in my hand, sitting very close to James Madison, the President and CEO of Walston Enterprises, which was an umbrella corporation one of our marketing partners was under. James was an old friend, and by old, I meant old in years. He was about sixty years old, and not even remotely attractive. He was wealthy as the day is long though, and he and I had partnered his shoe company with my fitness attire, featuring each other’s products in our catalogs for cross-branding exposure.
“Well?” Jase said impatiently.
“Well, what?” I replied, sliding the paper back across the desk.
“Is something going on there?”
After letting out a huge laugh, I replied, “With that old man? No. We both know I can do way better than an aging billionaire with an affinity for twenty-year-olds. I’d like to think you know I have better taste than that, Jase. I mean, come on.” I folded my arms and pursed my lips at him. As if I’d let him put his hands on my body. The thought made me shudder.
“Well, you are in a dry spell, Elise. I mean, honestly, he does have a gazillion dollars, so you could do worse, no?”
“I have a gazillion dollars of my own, thank you very much. And you’d have to pay me ten gazillion dollars to let that man in my bed. Even that isn’t enough.” I started to giggle.
The conversations Jase and I had were always ridiculous and funny, and he knew me so well. He started with me as an intern, and his work ethic and overall enthusiasm for life made him stand out. I hired him out of the mailroom, literally, and made him my personal assistant five years ago, never looking back. What he lacked in experience, he made up for in loyalty and commitment to a good job. He made sure I was where I needed to be, that I looked good, and that I was organized. I’d never been an attention to detail person, I was always a “big picture” person, and tended to leap quite earlier than I ever looked. While it had served me well most of the time, Jase saved me from being brash from time to time, which I appreciated. I honestly didn’t give a shit what people thought of me; I just wanted to work, design amazing fitness clothes for women of all sizes and fitness levels, and do my own thing. But Jase set up a lot of parties, meet and greets, and always knew the hot spots where I needed to show up, to see and be seen.
“Okay, well that’s fair. Have you met anyone you would let in your bed?” he grinned.
“Now you know for damn sure that you’d be the first to know. I’m not even sure the plumbing still works, it’s been that long. I’m about work. Who has time for anything more than what I’m already doing?”
Sighing dramatically, he folded his arms, holding the paper. “Elise. You’re a beautiful, successful woman. You run a multi-million dollar fitness clothing line, with a new branch coming. Your ass is fantastic. You really should be getting laid, at the very least. I’m not saying you have to bother getting married or any of those formal shenanigans—I know your stance on that one—but everyone needs the D. Deny it all you want. You need to get some.” And with that, he got up and went back to his desk just outside of my office door.
Always blunt, and usually right, I thought about what he said. I hadn’t been on a date in years. Where does a forty-year-old, successful, financially independent woman meet a man who isn’t intimidated by her, or trying to get something from her? She doesn’t. Even living in New York City, going to all the parties, I’ve never met anyone I wanted to see more of. And the men my age, wanted to date women fifteen years younger than them. Half of them were divorced because they’d been fucking their secretaries… assistants, whatever. Then, they married the little tarts, and started having babies with them, bringing about a whole new second family. Paying for their kids in college, and changing dirty diapers at the same time.
I’d long since given up the idea that I’d have my happily ever romance. The picket fence in the suburbs wasn’t the life for me. I never wanted to have children, which turned many men off in my thirties, and they never really understood my drive to keep working. Men tended to assume that I had a career simply to bide my time while waiting to find a husband, which I never understood. It was completely lost on most of them that I actually wanted to work; that I enjoyed my work. I chose my career a long time ago, and pretty much had everything I could ever dream of.
Chapter Two
Carter
I told my friend Beth this was the last time. The absolute final shot at setting me up with one of her single in the city friends. Where did she even meet these idiots? It continued to blow my mind how many women in their late twenties moved to New York City actually thinking it was like some television show, where they’d be living in a fabulous apartment, working some low level shit job because they weren’t qualified to do anything,
and that they’d somehow be shopping for Christian Louboutin shoes for fun. As I listened to my latest blind date tell me that she was trying to get on the waitlist for some new restaurant I didn’t care one iota about, my mind drifted off to where I’d rather be. Anywhere, of course, but mostly writing. I wanted to write novels. Spy novels, to be more precise.
I was working as a marketing executive for a large firm in New York City, the job I’d always wanted. It paid great, the benefits were amazing. I had flexibility and creative license most of the time, but I was terrifically bored. Beth, my college roommate, suggested that I spent too much time working, and not enough time meeting great girls I could build a life with. I wasn’t really sure what that meant. Build a life. Wasn’t what I had a life, technically? I’m sure she meant kids, house in the suburbs, that kind of shit, but that wasn’t my dream.
What was my dream? I didn’t know at the moment, but it definitely wasn’t to settle into some cookie-cutter life. Becoming rich and famous wasn’t my jam either. It wasn’t that I was looking for notoriety or anything of the sort, but I was looking for passion. The kind of passion that drives you every day. I didn’t think that the botoxed blonde sitting across from me even had a passion, unless you counted designer clothing. When I asked her the last book she read, she laughed, and honestly thought I was joking.
“Oh that’s too funny!” she exclaimed.
Scrunching my brows, I replied, “What’s funny?”
“I haven’t read a book since junior high. Who has time to read with all the parties and things to do in the city,” she cackled.
“I read for an hour every day, actually,” I replied curtly. I wasn’t being polite, and that’s not the kind of guy I usually am, but I couldn’t believe Beth would think that I’d like anything about this girl. I found her incessant giggling and lack of substance ugly and off-putting.
With a surprised look, she asked, “What on earth do you read?” as if no adult had ever read a fucking book in their life.
“I read a lot of crime novels, as well as professional and personal development books.” I could see she didn’t know what that meant, so I continued, “I’m interested in growing as a person every day. Learning how to live a fuller, more joyful, life. Finding ways to manifest positivity. I read about people who have changed their life for the better by finding their passions and leaving the bullshit behind them.” I paused, waiting for her feedback. I wasn’t usually that honest, but this was the last straw for me.
She stared blankly at me, her mouth slightly open. “Oh, that’s cool,” she said dryly.
That was it. I was done.
Standing up, I pulled my wallet out and dropped enough money to cover our drinks and a taxi home if she needed it. “I’m gonna head out. This just isn’t going to work.”
Appalled by my behavior—apparently, she’d never been rejected before—she sneered at me. “Are you serious? You’re leaving?”
I leaned down and looked her dead in the eyes. “Rachel? It is Rachel, right? I have time for many, many things, like reading, working, and even dating. But I have zero time for people whose greatest ambition in life is to get reservations at the latest fancy restaurant in town, that where they’re only going to go home and throw up what they ingested anyway. Lovely to meet you.”
Completely flabbergasted by this, she was seething. “How dare you. I—”
I interrupted her before walking away and not looking back. “Good luck finding Mr. Right, Rachel. I’m not him.”
I could hear her muttering under her breath, and while I felt a little bit bad about leaving her with an insult in such a way—it wasn’t very gentlemanly of me—I just couldn’t stand one more moment with her. Watching her forehead stay perfectly still, while her over-plumped lips continued to yap drivel. I simply couldn’t stand it; it felt like moments of my life were slipping away into the abyss as she rambled.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dialed Beth.
“Already?” she said, without even a greeting.
“Listen, do you even know me? Like, what on earth would make you think I would like anything about that girl?”
“You don’t have to marry her, Carter!” she yelled at me. “You could have enjoyed a lovely evening together.”
“Did you really think I was going to stick my dick in that? Honestly?” Beth knew me better than that. In fact, I was pretty sure this was the last single friend she had to set me up with, and it was grasping at straws to begin with.
“Well, okay, she’s not the smartest girl in New York City. I get that, but she’s very pretty?” she said, as if it were a question.
“My standards are a little bit higher than that. What were you thinking?”
“Truth?”
“Yes. Truth, please.”
“I was thinking you needed to get laid. And she’s definitely up for that. That’s all I got. You seem pent up. Aggravated and shit, lately. I figured a good fucking might perk you up?” She started to laugh, in turn, making me laugh as well.
“I can’t with you,” I chuckled. “While I appreciate you looking out for my pent up frustrations and all, you’re off the job. No more set-ups. I’m done. I can’t do it anymore.”
“I don’t want you to end up all alone, Carter. Everyone needs someone.”
Contemplating what she said, I didn’t necessarily disagree, but I wasn’t interested in the trivial bullshit that most women my age were still focusing on. You’d think in the twenty-first century, thirty-year-old women would be more evolved. They’d stop husband-hunting. It’s like you could actually hear the clock ticking in their heads as their biological clocks reverberated through them. I’ve never considered life a race. For me, it’s a journey, and about making the most of the experiences and opportunities around me. A lost art, apparently.
“I won’t be alone forever, Beth. When it happens, it happens. I’ve got bigger goals than finding someone right now, ok?”
“Alright, alright. I’m officially on hiatus as your matchmaker,” she huffed.
“You’re retired, Beth,” I replied with a grin.
“Ugh, fine. Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yep, I’ll be at the party, not to worry.”
“Ok, love you, Carter.”
“Love you back,” I said as I hung up.
Beth and her fiancé, Mike, were hosting a dinner party the following evening. They’d just moved into a pretty nice condo in the city, they both did quite well in their careers, and enjoyed having people over to share in what they’d been working for. It was one of the reasons Beth and I had always stayed so close. She was wealthy on her own, as was Mike, but they weren’t superficial at all. In fact, they were constantly giving, sharing, and trying to help other people. They were just good people, and I needed more like them in my life. How they’d been so lucky to have found each other continued to amaze me.
As I walked home, a slight chill in the air ran through me. Fall was definitely upon us in the city, and it was going to be a cold winter. Being from upstate New York, I was used to it, although summers never seemed to last long enough for me. The remainder of my long walk home, I considered what goals in my life needed re-evaluation. I wasn’t feeling as fulfilled as I wanted to be, but surely hunting for a relationship wouldn’t bring me the joy and satiation forlife I was craving.
Chapter Three
Elise
Out on my morning run, I reflected on some of the things Jase had said. As successful as I was in my career, many of my relationships were empty. Sure, I had some friends, but were they really friends, or were they simply connections. We all ended up in the paper, just like he showed me this week, but none of it was real. Most of the people I spent my time with had some sort of a vested interest in my businesses, or we had connected through our professional lives in some way. But, isn’t that how adults meet each other these days? I wasn’t sure anymore, as I felt like most of my social life had some kind of string attached.
I pulled my ponytail
a bit tighter, my long dark hair swinging behind me, and picked up my pace. I had always wanted to run a marathon, and planned to do one in the new year, so running a little bit every day had become my disorganized training plan until I could bring myself to commit to a real one. The chill of the fall was upon the city, and as I ran through the park, looking at the changing leaves, a bit of sadness began to wash over me. When I got back home, there wouldn’t be anyone there to ask about my run, to share a cup of coffee with. I wondered if I’d given up too much to enjoy the spoils of financial success. This was what I always wanted, and I’d achieved most of my goals, so what was I sad for?
After finishing ten miles, I headed back to my condo, which I owned outright. Uncommon in the city, but I didn’t want to have debt. I rarely used credit cards, and most of what I had was mine, free and clear. Also, I hated paying bills. Ever since I had my first job, I always tried to pay cash for things in advance, so they were just taken care of. I’m sure that’s a result of needing things growing up. My parents weren’t rich; they weren’t poor either, but they worked extremely hard for what they had, and taking care of my sister and I seemed to be a struggle for them for as long as I could remember. Now, my sister works for me in our Florida office, which reminded me; I needed to schedule a trip down. Not only had it been too long since I’d seen her, or the office there, but it was getting cold, and I loved being in Florida when it was cold everywhere but there.
