Stay With Me (Serendipity Book 2)

by Kali Argent

  “And what we’re doing here.” He wagged his thumb between them. “One could consider this dating?”

  Her smile stretched a little wider. “Yes, I suppose one could.”

  Turner nodded several times before he spoke again. “Okay.” Then he exited the vehicle and came around to open her door for her. “Just for the record,” he added before they reached the entrance of the diner, “I like you, too, but I’m paying for the pancakes.”

  He sounded so serious, Starla ducked her head to hide her growing smile. “I had suspected as much,” she teased. When he reached for the door, she stopped him with a hand to his forearm. “Thank you, Turner. For everything.”

  After a significant pause, Turner dipped his head in acknowledgement and reached for the door again. He didn’t speak until they’d made it inside and had been escorted to a corner booth by a red-headed waitress wearing too much lipstick.

  “I have something for you.”

  “Oh?” Starla finished pulling her coat off, folded it, and placed it on the padded, bench seat beside her. “What’s the occasion?”

  “No occasion. You said you wanted to relate to people, right?” Pressing his shoulders into the back of the booth, he lifted his hips to slide his hand into the front pocket of his jeans. “Well, I thought maybe this would help.”

  Resting his elbow on the tabletop, he opened his hand, dangling a small, silver, star-shaped pendant from a delicate chain that looped around his fingers. The raised center of the star literally sparkled in the harsh, fluorescent lighting of the diner, glittering in shades of gold and silver.

  While beautiful and unique, Starla didn’t understand how it would help her form connections with the people in her life. “It’s gorgeous.” She stroked the star with her index finger. “Thank you, Turner.”

  “It’s stardust,” he explained, laughing when she arched an eyebrow at him. “Okay, it’s actually glitter, but just go with it. Think of it like a talisman.”

  Giving up on trying to figure him out, Starla clasped the necklace in her fist and sighed. “I don’t understand.”

  “A talisman,” Turner repeated, “like a reminder. Just wear it for a few days, okay? And when you’re interacting with people, it’ll help you remember to give just a little more, be a bit more open.”

  Starla still didn’t understand, but he seemed so confident, so she just smiled and thanked him again as she fasted the necklace at her nape. “I’ll try.”

  “I have no doubts.” Turner shook his head, his lips curving marginally. “I believe in you.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Leaning back in his office chair, Turner propped his feet up on his desk and laughed into the phone. “You’re not interrupting anything,” he assured Starla. “Trust me, this is the best part of my day.”

  He’d seen her only once since the night he’d driven her home—just once in nine days—and that had been a business meeting. The separation made him crazy, but he understood how much stress she was under to finish her presentation. He also knew exactly how much she wanted that promotion, and while it might be inconvenient for him, he admired her dedication and tenacity.

  “I just wanted to let you know that your mini commercials will be displayed on eleven digital billboards in the city. They’ll start the last Friday of the month and run through the end of March.”

  “I thought I only paid for nine billboards?”

  “You did.” The smile in her voice sent a tingle down his spine. “I was able to work a little magic, though. You can thank me later.”

  Realizing it was the perfect segue, Turner interrupted her before she could continue with her update. “Speaking of later, I want to see you. What are you doing tonight?”

  “Oh, Turner, I wish I could, but my presentation is in the morning. Maybe we can do something tomorrow after work?”

  Turner bit back his frustration. “No problem. I’ll pick you up at your place around eight.” His phone beeped with an incoming call, and he frowned at the name on the display. “Hey, I need to take this call, but I’ll see you tomorrow. I’d say good luck with your presentation, but you don’t need it. You’ve got this.”

  They said a quick goodbye, and he switched to the other line. “Nico Devine, as I live and breathe.”

  “Shut up, McCord.” As one of his oldest and closest friends, Nico never pulled punches. “Did you get it?”

  Sitting up in his chair, Turner lifted the cream-colored invitation from his desk and stared down at the elegant black script. “Drake is hosting a charity ball.” He couldn’t help but snort. “This has to be a joke…or hell froze over.”

  He’d grown up, so to speak, with Drake and Nico in the foster care system, and they’d forged a bond that few could understand, let alone hope to replicate. Turner loved Drake like a brother, but the man didn’t exactly have the reputation for shaking hands and kissing babies. His competitors, and even some of his employees at Vidal Labs and Technology, called him The Beast. While Turner knew better, he could also see how Drake had earned himself the moniker.

  “No joke,” Nico answered.

  “And let me guess. You’re catering this event.”

  Despite their miserable beginnings, he and his foster brothers had done quite well for themselves. Drake had his ridiculously lucrative company. Turner had Neverland, and Nico owned one of the most coveted restaurants in Chicago, with Devine’s reservation book filled months in advance.

  “I am. Drake’s coming in for a tasting in about half an hour. You should swing by.”

  An undercurrent of mischief tinted Nico’s voice, piquing Turner’s interest. “I’m assuming you didn’t tell Drake I’ll be there.”

  “Nope, and this conversation never happened.” Then he disconnected the call, leaving Turner chuckling into the silence.

  Intrigued by Nico’s cryptic invite, Turner went in search of Rina, letting his manager know he’d be out for the rest of the afternoon. Then he grabbed his coat from his office closet and left the store to hail a cab.

  Fifteen minutes later, the taxi pulled up to the curb in front of Vidal Labs and Technology. After paying the driver, along with a generous tip, he entered the building, intending to make his way up to Drake’s office. As luck would have it, however, he spotted the guy hurrying across the lobby, his dark head ducked and impatience clear in every, long stride.

  “Vidal!”

  Of course, Drake paid him no mind and just kept walking. Shaking his head, Turner took off at a jog, dropping a hand on his friend’s shoulder when he finally caught up to him. “Hey, Vidal!”

  Drake stopped and turned, his scowl slowly morphing into a welcoming smile. “McCord.”

  “I wanted to stop by and see with my own eyes that you were still alive.” Not exactly a lie, but not really the truth, either.

  Drake frowned at him. “How did you hear I had the flu?”

  Actually, he hadn’t heard, but now, Drake had him curious. “You were sick?”

  “Yes.” His eyebrows drew together, and his lips turned down at the corners. “If you didn’t know I was sick, then what are you doing here?”

  As much fun as it would be to watch Drake’s reaction to hearing about his phone call with Nico, Turner kept quiet on the subject. “I got this invitation in the mail saying you were throwing a charity event, and I needed to come make sure you weren’t replaced by some pod person.”

  “Fuck you, McCord. I’ve given to charity before.”

  It was such a typical Drake response, he couldn’t help but laugh at the guy. “I know you have, but you’re the man that gave enough money to the hospital to have an entire wing named after you, then threatened to pull the funding if anyone found out about it. Why are you doing something so...public?”

  “It’s a long story, but I have somewhere to be.” Drake pushed passed him and exited the building, cursing at the light flurry of snow that had already coated the sidewalks.

  Oh, this was too good. Turner suddenly understood why Nico had made it
a point to contact him. “There’s a woman.”

  Drake came to an abrupt stop and turned to glare at him. “Why the hell do people keep saying that?”

  “Ha! So, there is a woman!”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Turner could sympathize. “Brother, it always is when a woman is involved.”

  After a few seconds of silence, Drake finally relented and gave Turner a brief summary of the events that had led to his decision to host this event. Everything he said seemed to revolve around a woman named Tessa, and by the time he finished, Turner couldn’t stop laughing.

  “Oh, God, this is priceless. A ball. You’re throwing a masquerade ball. Does this make you this Tessa’s prince charming?”

  “I fucking hate you.”

  The stormier Drake’s blue eyes became, the harder Turner laughed. “Naw, you’re more like the evil queen...or king, to be more precise.”

  “I’m leaving now. We’re doing the tasting at Devine’s, and you’re making me late.” Drake started walking again, frowning when Turner fell into step beside him. “What are you doing?”

  “If you’re going to eat at Nico’s place, I’m coming with you.” Not on his life was he going to miss this, and it had nothing to do with the food.

  Drake sighed but continued down the sidewalk. “Fine. But, Turner?”

  “Yeah?” he asked with a broad grin.

  “If you hit on Tessa, I may have to kill you.”

  Some of Turner’s enthusiasm faded, and he tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat and shrugged. “Don’t worry, I’m having issues with my own woman right now.”

  Drake’s eyebrows winged toward his hairline. “Oh? What kind of issues?”

  He understood how seriously Starla took her work, and he applauded her conviction, but Turner couldn’t help but think she’d been avoiding him. They’d barely spoken in over a week, not even on the phone, and their meeting to finalize the details of his ad had been stilted and awkward at best.

  Still, she’d agreed to go out with him the next evening, so maybe he’d read too much into the situation. Women confused the hell out of him, and he’d much rather watch Drake suffer than go through it himself.

  “Just…don’t even ask.”

  ~

  Standing just inside the doors of Neverland, Starla dusted the snow from her hair and grasped the strap of her new purse—a small, gray, leather satchel—in a white-knuckled grip. As always, the store overflowed with life, the air filled with the giggles of children and the warm, inviting scent of spiced apples. It never changed, no matter the day or time she walked through the doors, yet it always brought a smile to her lips.

  “Miss Winters?” Rina rounded the end of the crescent-shaped counter and bounced over to her, the curls piled on her head swaying wildly. “What can I do for you today?”

  “I’m actually here to see Turner…Mr. McCord.”

  Rina pursed her lips and glanced toward the closed office door. “I’m sorry, he’s not here right now. Is something wrong? Maybe I can help.”

  “No, no, nothing’s wrong.” Reaching up, Starla toyed with the small star around her neck, a habit she’d formed since Turner had gifted her the necklace. “Did you have a pleasant birthday?”

  Rina’s face lit up, and her eyes sparkled. “Oh, it was fabulous, and I met this guy.” Her smile softened, and she sighed wistfully. “We’re going out again this weekend.”

  Valentine’s Day. Starla bit down on the corner of her lip while she debated how much of her relationship with Turner she should share. “Actually, there is something you can help me with.”

  Taking her elbow, Rina led her into Turner’s office and closed the door firmly behind them. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain tall, dark, and handsome toy store owner, would it?”

  “He told you?”

  “No, but it’s written all over his face every time he looks at you.” Propping one hip up on the desk, she clasped her hands together, her petite frame practically vibrating. “Now, what’s the problem, and how can I help?”

  Starla didn’t know where to begin, the guilt staying her tongue. She hadn’t dated much, had never really had the time or patience for it. Burying herself in her work and disappearing for days at a time had never been an issue, not until she’d met Turner.

  All week, she’d been dodging his calls, knowing full well that he’d talk her into a night out when she needed to be concentrating on her presentation. She’d justified her actions by telling herself she’d make it up to him when things calmed down, but every day, the guilt burrowed a little deeper.

  She’d driven away plenty of men who refused to take a backseat to her career, and honestly, she didn’t miss any of them. Turner, however, she’d missed every moment since she’d last seen him. She’d been avoiding him, yet he still made it almost impossible to concentrate on her work. Thoughts of him distracted her constantly—his smile, his laugh, the way his soft lips felt against her forehead. They hadn’t even shared a proper kiss yet, but despite her best efforts, she just couldn’t get Turner out of her head.

  It had taken him hours to get her laptop back in working order and regain access to her accounts, but he’d never complained. He’d patiently explained that her computer had been infected with a Trojan meant to steal information like passwords, then he’d installed additional protection software.

  The following morning, he’d arrived bright and early to drive her into the city, and they’d even stopped for coffee at her favorite café. While she’d worked, he’d arranged to have her car towed to a nearby garage for repairs, and by the time her workday had ended, her vehicle had been returned to its original parking space in the garage. She had still yet to see a bill for that, and something told her she never would.

  “Hello?” Rina waved a hand in front of Starla’s face. “Earth to Starla. Where did you go?”

  “Do you know if Turner has anything planned for Saturday?”

  “Valentine’s Day?” Rina’s eyebrows drew together, and she shook her head. “He hasn’t mentioned anything. Why do you ask?”

  One date wouldn’t make up for ignoring him, nor would it repay everything Turner had done for her, but it was a start. “I want to plan something special for him, but well…”

  Rina nodded knowingly. “He’s a bit unique, isn’t he? A free spirit, if you will.”

  Settling into one of the squashy chairs in front of the desk, Starla held her purse in her lap and sighed. “Yes, and I adore that about him.”

  “But it makes it difficult to plan a surprise for him that he’ll love,” Rina supplied. She laughed when Starla wrinkled her nose. “What’s that all about?”

  “I’m not overly fond of surprises myself, but this isn’t about me.” She and Turner had dissimilar definitions of “fun,” hence her uncertainty about plans for the weekend. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “I have a couple of ideas.” Sliding off the desk, Rina reached out and took Starla’s hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. We’re going make this the best surprise he’s ever had.”

  Starla mirrored her smile, but honestly, she’d settle for anything other than utter failure.

  They spent the next half hour, tossing ideas back and forth, until Rina landed on an idea that fit Turner so perfectly Starla actually clapped her hands together. “Oh, you are absolutely amazing. You can’t tell him,” she added sternly. “It has to be a surprise.”

  “My lips are sealed,” Rina promised, making a show of drawing an imaginary zipper across her lips. “Now, go. He’ll be back any minute.”

  They’d both agreed she should keep up the avoidance act until the big reveal for maximum impact. Still, disappointment settled in her heart, and she only hoped her plan would be enough to make up for her recent absence.

  After thanking Rina again, she hurried out of the store, ducking her head against the swirling snow as she walked to her car. Once in the driver’s seat, she used her phone to
look up the name of the business Rina had given her and placed the call while she drove. After finalizing the details, she hummed under her breath to the song on the radio, the traffic barely fazing her for once. She even stopped by her favorite coffeehouse for an early evening treat.

  “Hello, Melissa,” she said in greeting to the barista behind the counter. “How’s the wrist? Still sore?”

  While she’d been skeptical at first, the talisman Turner had given her turned out to be more effective than she could have imagined. The cool metal of the pendant nestled between the hollow of her collarbones, a constant nudge to be more open and approachable. It not only served as a reminder, but strangely, it gave her the courage to be vulnerable, to put herself out there for possible rejection.

  “The wrist is much better.” The raven-haired beauty lifted her right arm, twisting her hand back and forth. “I’ll be glad when spring comes. Slipping on the ice in front of a dozen people was so embarrassing.”

  Starla winced in sympathy. Melissa hadn’t been working at The Brewed long, only a couple of weeks, but she definitely brought her own flair to the café. Young, no older than twenty-two or three maybe, with pin-straight ebony hair and big, emerald-green eyes, she probably drove all the male customers crazy.

  Starla placed her usual order of a large, vanilla chai tea and leaned against the counter. “How are you settling in to your new apartment? Do you like the city?”

  “Chicago is a lot different than Indianapolis.” Melissa moved around behind the counter, talking over her shoulder while she worked to prepare Starla’s tea. “I mean, I guess technically, we’re in the ’burbs, but it’s still taken some adjustment. I love my apartment, though. I haven’t spent much time on my own, but I’m finding I kind of like it.”

  Starla didn’t know all the details or whys of Melissa’s move, and she didn’t feel comfortable asking. There was a difference between getting to know someone and just flat-out prying, and that conversation fell into the latter.

  “Have you met anyone yet?”