What was she thinking? Chasing Travis Dunn down the street. He was just being polite and a perfect gentleman when he manhandled the hungover guy. With his military experience, it was probably just second nature to him, she thought. Travis would have done that for any poor barista. She just happened to be in the… right place? The place where it happened? She was in the place that crossed his path. She wasn’t special.
Ivy shook her head, scolding herself in her head as she pushed open the door of the coffee shop and entered. Even from the across the room, she had caught her manager’s glaring eyes. This was going to be a long day indeed, and especially since she wouldn’t be able to forget those piercing blue eyes of his that had burnt her skin when he looked at her.
She slipped the apron on over herself and walked over to the cash register, pasting her forced smile on her face again. She had been foolish, a complete idiot. Travis Dunn wanted to have nothing to do with a girl like her.
She finished out her shift without any further incident, which came as both a relief and a disappointment for her. It felt like a relief because the last thing Ivy needed was more run-ins with hoodlums and trouble makers like the hungover guy from earlier. It felt like a disappointment because the thing Ivy needed most was more run-ins with Travis Dunn.
At least, though, she’d be coming up on her weekend. At least she’d have the chance to put Travis out of her mind, as a chance encounter that she would never get to reenact.
When the time came to clock out, she did so hurriedly, barely acknowledging her manager. She said goodbye to Shelly, but did so in the hastiest of manners, walking out the door of her coffee shop as she spoke farewell.
When she got home, she collapsed on the couch and fell asleep. She hoped that dreams would take her to where she would encounter Travis once more.
As she slowly drifted off to sleep, her mind began to blur the line between the reality of her dark studio apartment and Travis walking in. She imagined a tall, handsome, well-cut man in her room, then sitting by her bed. Her mind began to loop the same sequence over and over again, a sequence that she had not experienced in real life yet but one that she could not stop fantasizing about.
In that fantasy, the man named Travis Dunn came into her bed and reached his hands down between her legs. She squirmed as she felt her body spasming with the release of intense pleasure.
“Travis, please,” she moaned. “I want all of you.”
“Do you, Ivy?” he said with a wicked grin. “Do you?”
In real life, Ivy couldn’t have known how she would respond. It was a different game for her to imagine her doing what she’d never done before with any man with a stranger she’d met once at her job.
But here, in the safety of her dreams and of her mind?
Oh, yes, she didn’t want Travis Dunn. She needed Travis Dunn.
But then, just as she felt his prick pressing against her, she would jolt awake. She would find herself back in her studio apartment, awake in the middle of the night, the only other living thing in her room the occasional bug that had sneaked in through the air system.
“Damn,” she murmured to herself.
At least she had chosen to have these fantasies on her Friday night. She wouldn’t wake up until much later and probably wouldn’t get much more rest, but at least she wouldn’t have to fake smile her way through her shift tomorrow. She could have until the real Thursday to make that happen.
When she woke up on Tuesday, she had planned to do nothing but watch Netflix. It was a long week even before running into the hungover guy from the day before, and that incident had just pushed her over the edge. The politeness of Travis had kept her sanity for the rest of the day, and a good thing too—she could have easily imagined quitting her job in a fury if the hungover man had managed to do anything more than he had done. Netflix should have provided the cure.
Instead, she spent much of the morning in bed just fantasizing about her encounter with Travis. The thoughts that she had had from the night before played ad naseum in her mind, a vivid reminder of the man she had not yet gotten… but the man she had not yet lost, either.
When she did get out of bed, she found herself amusingly disgusted at how much she thought about him. She didn’t understand why she had such a crush on the guy. When she thought about it, she had no rational reason for falling that hard for anyone—sure, he was hot, a billionaire, charming, seductive, handsome, interesting, mysterious…
But no one, no one, deserved that kind of infatuation from Ivy.
Perhaps, she realized, she needed to get out of the coffee shop more. She needed to get serious about doing things outside her work. She needed to have a life.
Good luck making that happen anytime soon, though. Hopefully one of those interviews will get back to me soon.
She booted up her email. A couple of companies had, miraculously, invited her for in-person interviews for their marketing teams in the weeks to come. Even if they hired her, it would take at least a month or so for them to get on board. But it was a start.
And if Travis came into the picture…
Oh God, Ivy, come on!
Ivy turned on a nature documentary on Netflix and proceeded to kill as much of her day as she could shutting her mind off and doing nothing. For the most part, it worked. She couldn’t get her mind off of Travis, but it became like a program running in the background of a computer, there and having to be accounted for but not disrupting her day.
The same happened on Wednesday. By the time her bed came around 8 p.m., she’d accepted that for the entirety of her weekend, she had not once gotten past meeting Travis Dunn. She figured she’d have to do something about it, but at least she would walk into work the next day in a better mood than the one before. She’d shut her brain off, and she’d accomplished her goal of resetting her sanity levels to acceptable.
But that would all go to hell, she knew, if she didn’t get to see Travis.
Thus, when Thursday came, she had to hope that he had decided to make a visit to her shop a regular occurrence and not a special one-off visit.
As Travis Dunn walked back to his office for the first time since the previous Friday, he thought about how many “first time since” incidents had just happened.
It was the first time he’d grabbed coffee since his business had been in the early stages and he had to burn through many hours of work just to get funding, not even to get the business doing its duty. He had avoided coffee for so long, fully aware that he might become addicted, but on a day like today, with final stages of contract negotiation set to begin with a design firm on their new office, Travis had to take as many steps to prepare as he could. And if that meant indulging in some coffee, well, as long as he had a steady supply from a local vendor, he might as well.
It was the first time he’d used his close quarters combat skills since he’d been on active duty in the Marines. He had never envisioned a day in which he’d have to use it as a civilian, but frankly, he saw no choice but to use it. The drunk moved aggressively on the defenseless staff, and if someone hadn’t done something, who knew what would have happened? And once the drunk had swung at him, Travis simply acted out of self defense. There was no thinking—it just went all on instinct. He’d practiced CQC far too much to have it slip away just because he’d been out of active duty for a decent amount of time now.
And, perhaps most stunningly, it was the first time he saw a girl who got him as excited since…
He quickly shut off that train of thought before it reached its natural point. The last thing he needed on a day like today, with as much going on as he had, was to revisit the past of his romantic life and ponder what the new girl—Ivy Zimmerman. Remember it. Ivy. Zimmerman. Ivy Zimmerman—would mean to him. She just works there and looks like her, Travis. But that’s it and you know it. Don’t let yourself get sucked into something unnecessary and distracting on a day like this.
And yet, as he walked back to his office and as he thought of her beautiful, lo
ng hair with blonde streaks, her dark brown eyes, her nervous giggle, and her curves, he couldn’t help but shake the thought of her. He knew the last time he had had that feeling, and it had come just around the time that he’d begun to enlist in the Marines. It was a time that had affected him so much and touched his soul so much that he hadn’t thought he would ever leave the girl who had brought it to him.
But for how that had ended, he dreaded the idea of ever going back to something that reminded her of that last girl.
He made his way into the building bearing his name, the tallest building in all of the city. A small part of Travis loathed the size of the Goliath-sized building, given that it was about as un-Marine as he could get, but the simple fact was his building needed to be that big. For how close his company was coming to being one of the largest employers in the country, not just the city, he needed the size, no matter how preposterous it got.
He went up to the receptionist, an older lady named Miriam, and nodded.
“How are things, Miriam?” he asked.
He always liked to have a cool demeanor about himself while he worked. Travis believed that an employee who had their emotions in check was an employee who could thrive at the job. Some people mistook him as a result for being arrogant or aloof, but if they knew his background, Travis knew they wouldn’t make that mistake.
“They are well, Mr. Dunn,” she said politely.
“Excellent,” Travis said before departing to the back. Miriam always did a fine job—and it was a job, he thought, that he didn’t pay her enough for.
The problem wasn’t the business guests or the phone calls or the scheduling—it was the press coming to request an interview with him. It was the paparazzi demanding a photograph of him. It was the women who swore they knew him and demanded to meet with him. Miriam always handled the situation with aplomb, never making anyone feel stupid for having requested access to him, but also never allowing anyone to come near him without his permission.
Someday, he figured, he would reward her handsomely. Maybe on a work anniversary or something of that nature.
He nodded and greeted many more people, most of whom he did not recognize. He supposed that it was a testament to the growing size of his company that he could no longer recognize all of his employees—by face, let alone by name—but in some ways, it made him yearn for the simpler days, both when Dunn Inc was but a small startup and in the Marines when he and his brothers didn’t just know each other, they lived for each other. He reached his private elevator, pressed the button to his floor—which only he occupied—and breathed a sigh of relief when the doors closed.
No longer did Travis have to play the part of super-focused, engaged, tough CEO. Now, he could focus on what mattered—his job.
He didn’t mind interacting with people. But because of his intense nature, too many people misread him and judged him incorrectly. In the Marines, he was beloved. Outside, he was feared.
He got tired of being feared and had begun turning his attention to what didn’t fear him in the actual job.
Still, he didn’t take off his tie, nor his suit. He believed in dressing for the role he had and the role he wanted, and as long as he wanted to run his own company, he could not foresee ever losing the look.
The doors of the elevator opened and Travis headed to his desk. He sat down in the nicest office chair money could buy and booted up his company. Around him, he heard the occasional bird chirping and flying outside, but from his vantage point, he might as well have been in the sky. He worked from so high up, he could look down upon all the citizens in the city if he wanted to. And sometimes, after a particularly long day, he would do just that with a glass of whiskey.
Today, though, he had work to do with a major client. He opened his inbox and scanned through his messages.
He deleted multiple interview requests. He smirked at the photo alerts and, curious, opened one. This one came from an old photo in which he walked behind a female employee of his, dressed in a tight-fitting dress, with the headline “Well Dunn?” Travis got a laugh out of that—it might have sold copies, but this was a story of fiction, not reality. He had simply walked with her to her taxi for the night, something the photographers had easily seen. But that didn’t make a story, and so the story was left to the imagination.
For the briefest of moments, Travis imagined what it would be like to be caught walking that barista out to a taxi. Would it look good? Or would—
Why? Travis, don’t be ridiculous. Focus on your work.
Travis shook his head, in disbelief that he’d turned his mind to that girl, and continued scanning through his email. Then he found the one he was looking for.
* * *
“Travis,
* * *
Here’s the finalized contract. Come over at any time and sign and we can begin work.
* * *
Best,
Richard Thomas
CEO, Logic Designs”
* * *
Travis gave a slight pump of the fist. Logic Designs had long had interest in working with Dunn Inc, but the logistics of making two firms of their respective size work proved enormously difficult. Travis had waited for months for this to come through—often having to overcome the difficult nature of his lawyers and Logic Designs’ lawyers—and now that it had finally happened, he felt like opening a bottle of whiskey to celebrate.
Wouldn’t it be nice to have it with someone, too.
Like that girl—
Goodness, Travis.
Travis busted out laughing, half in celebration at having achieved the contract, half at his disbelief that he still, even after saying multiple times that he wouldn’t, thought about the barista at that coffee shop. How would he even see her? He could go back, sure, but then that manager would say no. Not that that mattered to Travis, who knew he could persuade his way past the manager. But he worried it might make a bad impression for the lady.
Still, he knew that as long as he thought about her, he would want to see her. And as long as he wanted to see her but chose not to, he would want to see her.
So in that moment, Travis Dunn decided that he would do something he had not thought to do for a woman in years. He would pursue her and he would make a move. He would make her his.
The rest of the day went by smoothly for Travis, who, with his quiet time to himself, had the energy to put on his cool, quiet, tough Marine look for those he had meetings with. He took his time leaving the office, not departing until nearly 8 p.m. What did it matter when he left? He didn’t have a wife and kids, nor a dog at home. He had a giant home to himself, and though he had lots of rooms with lots of different purposes—some of which he couldn’t show even his mother—he didn’t need to go home immediately. It could wait.
When the next day came, he rose eagerly and had a limo driver drop him off at the coffee shop. He requested, though, that the driver wait while he looked inside.
He peered through the glass. He didn’t see that one barista. He saw the guy who had kicked him out, though, and that was enough. He went back to the limo and squatted down.
“Everything all right, sir?” the driver said.
“She probably has off on Tuesdays and Wednesdays,” Travis said. “So we’re going to make this return trip on Thursday.”
Sure enough, when Thursday came, he waltzed up to the coffee shop, entered with a confident look and his full suit and tie, and stood in line.
He did not see that particular barista. But no barista had a three-day weekend, and if she wasn’t there, someone would say something.
It all went well until the man who had kicked him out before walked over.
“Excuse me, sir, weren’t you the man who got into a fight here on Monday?”
Travis had several thoughts about lying. But he knew better than to create a scene, and so he nodded his head slowly. He could see the manager was intimidated but not willing to back down.
“You’ll have to leave then, sir.”
Travis looked around the room. He saw people glancing at him—including the baristas, though they had their eye on him for a very different reason—and knew that if he wanted, he could win this argument.
But he also knew that the element of mystery played in his favor. To just disappear like the wind would create rumors and stories among the staff. So, he knew what to do.
“Very well,” Travis said.
As he left, he smiled at the baristas. He didn’t say a word more.
He didn’t need to.
Ivy’s alarm went off at 6 a.m. on Thursday just as it did every day not named Tuesday or Wednesday. And yet, despite it being her Monday, despite the alarm going off before most of the world awoke, despite not having done anything that productive over her time off, Ivy woke up with a strange feeling.
Excitement.
Ivy put in extra effort the next morning. She had dressed in her most skinny jeans that clung to her legs and made them look longer than they actually were. Her blouse was a thin floral cotton thing with barely-there straps so that she could feel her perfectly brushed strawberry blond locks brushing against her bare arms. She’d put on a light pink lip gloss to match the pink flowers of her blouse. She knew she’d still have to throw her uniform on over the outfit, but she couldn’t help herself.
What if Travis Dunn still returned? What if Travis wanted to make an appearance just for her? A billionaire like himself wouldn’t let himself settle for just any normal girl, let alone a barista. No, he’d want the prettiest, cutest, sexiest lady he could find.
If Ivy could get away with it in her uniform, she could. Yes, more than just Travis—if he even bothered to show up, that was—would lay eyes upon her and have their minds go wild. But that was fine. If anything, it would get her better tips.
His Royal Majesty : A Royal Wedding Romance Page 30
