by Yvette Hines
“Just focus on the contract, Chelsi,” she chided herself. “This is no time to try to reclaim a lost relationship.” She and Vincent were history. In the past.
Things had really switched between them. Not that she wasn’t doing well for herself. She was second designer for a man who was moving to the top of fashion with a steady pace, and she was fastened to his coat tails. Yup, things were different now. Vincent dressed and rode like a man who had people reaching for his coat tails. He’d become a sexy, successful business man. Long gone was the poor geeky teenage boy.
She chuckled to herself. The chance to have gone to their class reunion and seen how all the jocks, cheerleaders, and wannabes talked about him now would have been priceless. But that opportunity was two years ago, and she’d missed it. Apparently, Vincent hadn’t shown up either, because her best friend Becky would have told her that.
Hell, why would he have to go and try to get false approval from people who wanted to make his life miserable for four years? The only reason he’d escaped their ribbing in the last year was because he was dating her.
Then it had all ended. Brief images of a beautiful summer filled with laughter and love flashed in her mind as she drove. At eighteen, they spent their final summer of youth by her pool, at amusement parks, museums, and on Lake Norman. The two of them had discovered physical love in each other’s arms. Then the days of freedom had ended. They both had known it would.
They were headed off to college in two different directions, him to the University of Iowa and her to New York University. It was over. They had ended as friends, making no promises to each other. Together they had decided it would be best to end it, focus on school and their chosen careers.
And he hadn’t called.
For the first two years, she hadn’t changed the number to the cell phone her parents had gotten her as a graduation present. Not expecting him to call but hoping he would.
And he hadn’t called. Feeling wet heat rolling down her face, Chelsi realized she was crying. She hadn’t cried since her second week in college when she’d been rushed to the emergency room with severe stomach pains. She’d miscarried a baby she didn’t even know she’d been pregnant with.
She waved to the guard as he opened the gates of the community where she lived. Pulling up into her designated parking spot, she turned the car off and sat there.
The memory of that fateful night flooded back into her mind, and the agony of the experience rested in her heart as fresh as it did then. She’d wanted to call him. She remembered clutching the phone in her hand and wanting to hear his voice. Tell him what happened, what they’d created that summer and lost.
But she had no number for him. Nothing but his parent’s home and the tumultuous relationship he had with them kept her from ringing their phone in the middle of the night, begging for some way to reach him.
Instead, she’d called Becky. Becky had come from Penn State and had stayed with her the following weekend.
A jazz melody filled the car, and it took Chelsi a moment to realize it was her phone ringing.
“Do you plan to grace us with your presence, Chelsi?” Peter Densa, her boss and head designer of Densa Fashions spoke before she could say hello.
Oh, God. She was late.
“Peter, I’m getting set up now.” Scrambling around, she grabbed her two bags from the passenger seat and jogged to her door and unlocked it. “Sorry, I was hungry so I ran—”
“Starvation creates better designs.” He cut her off, giving her the line he used when anyone said they were taking a food break. Even as an ex-runway model, Peter was still fit. All of his workers knew he ate healthy but rarely skipped meals, even if it was just a pack of natural trail mix.
She laughed as she deposited her bags on the counter because her table was covered. “I could die from it, too. Then how would you get my magnificent creations I’d suffered for?” She wiggled the wireless mouse beside her computer to get it out of sleep mode. “They’d be here scattered around my corpse.”
“Trust me. I’d find a way to get in there for them. You just make sure you’re wearing that nasty little crushed silk gold dress when you go down,” he admonished her.
She logged into the site. Her image popped up as she joined the other members of the four man team, and she said, “So this outfit won’t do, Peter?” She executed a sexy pouty and opened her eyes wide to appear innocent as she played with the loose strands of her hair.
“Hell no!” Peter reeled back on his screen as if struck.
“Good Lord, you look awful.” Manuel added as his gaze scrolled around the top right screen on her monitor as if he were trying to calculate all of her fashion faux pas.
“I can see why you have to be creative at home alone, ma chérie.” Pierre’s French accent played around his words as he shook his head in the bottom left of her screen.
She laughed at all their comments.
“I would not be caught dead in that outfit and alive…” Peter’s voice trailed away and so did her humor.
She had been caught in it—by a man from her past.
Chapter Two
Vin stared down at the information in the notes section of his cell phone. He’d entered it almost a week ago and had been battling with himself on what he should do with it. Part of him believed it would be best just to delete the information from his phone. He couldn’t go back in time. A larger part of him urged him to call Zeth, his best friend, a forensic specialist who worked for the police department.
Zeth could take the information Vin had and give him what he really wanted—a phone number for Chelsi Halifax.
Chelsi hadn’t really confirmed she had moved back to Charlotte, but the license plate on the car she drove away in had North Carolina tags. He’d keyed the information into his phone as soon as he was seated in the limo: I-337446.
The combination was so ingrained in his head from looking at it since he’d seen her at the store, he had it memorized and only pulled it up on his phone as a formality.
It had been a shock to see her that day. Even unkempt she’d been a beautiful sight to him. A welcome vision. Her face was uninhibited by make-up, leaving her beautiful reddish brown skin looking soft and supple. She looked as innocent and sweet as she did the day he’d seen her in their ninth grade English class. That first year she’d worn her hair in a high ponytail, no bangs or curls. That was when he’d fallen in love with her.
For years he’d kept his emotions a secret and never would have dreamed of acting on them until she’d kissed him on the last day of school their eleventh grade year. A simple brush on the lips thanking him for helping her pass math.
At that moment, an electric spark had zapped his lips and sent a current of desire straight to his cock. He fumbled through a “you’re welcome”, as she blushed, giggled then walked away, only once looking back at him with luminous light brown eyes. Something in her gaze told him, she’d felt the charge, too. Too baffled, he’d stood there as she headed to the student parking lot to her car. Once he got out of his daze, he trundled his long awkward body to the bus lane. The difference and the gap between their lives had been huge.
That didn’t stop him from masturbating all summer long with nothing but thoughts of that brief kiss to fuel his lust. Neither did it hold him back from executing the impossible. Zeth had even told him not to do it, that it was teenage social suicide. As someone most people called nerd or geek, he was already an outcast. He’d thought, planned, and worked all summer towards one goal—asking Chelsi Halifax out.
A week before the homecoming dance of their senior year, he’d heard she hadn’t decided who she was going to go with. Everyone assumed she’d pick Chris Riley, the captain of the basketball team. Vincent recalled that day like it was yesterday. It was Tuesday, and he’d caught her in the computer lab doing research for her marketing class and had bitten the bullet and asked her.
He’d expected everything from her laughing in his face to just a flat out no. Hell, she wo
uld have been within her right as the head of the drill and dance team. At their school, they were more popular than the cheerleaders. Chelsi was number one school pick for homecoming queen. All odds were on her going with Chris, the favored to win king.
Instead, she had paused only for a moment then broke out in a shy smile and said yes. She’d picked up a piece of computer paper and written her number in large bold digits across it then handed it to him and told him to call her. Their relationship had begun and lasted through the teasing and ridicule he’d gotten from the jocks. But Chelsi had been his, and nothing else had mattered.
Two weeks after graduation, they’d told their parents they were going to spend the day at the amusement park. Instead they’d driven the opposite direction and gotten a hotel in Winston-Salem and had made love. At eighteen, it had been the first time for both of them.
Vin recalled how they’d learned together that summer. In between the actual cultural places they visited, they read and surfed the internet on sexual techniques. All of the applicable knowledge had been enough to fill a teacup, but they hadn’t cared as long as they were together, because it would end soon.
He had always been a practical guy, someone who planned and drafted his odds of success before attempting anything. Dating Chelsi had been completely against all his calculations of what could happen, but his attraction for her had won over his rational mind. However, he’d known as each day of that summer passed that long distance relationships in college rarely worked. Someone always ended up getting hurt.
Neither of them knew what would happen after college. Chelsi dreamed of going to Italy and working with high fashion designers. His dreams had all been about business. Making something of himself.
Leaning back in his office, he glanced at all the high end furnishings. Frames holding his various degrees and certificates, proof that he had made it. He shifted his gaze to his desk where a dual monitor screen sat. Stock reports, future business ventures, and ideas jotted down on sheets of paper littered the polished wood. There was one thing missing among all of it—family photos. He’d succeeded at everything he’d ever dreamed of except one—Chelsi.
Over the years he’d dated and slept with his share of women. Success had a way of making a man desirable. The fact that he’d grown into his body and had Lasik surgery didn’t hurt, either.
Lydia, a lawyer friend of his, had been the last woman he dated two years go. Everyone had expected them to marry, but it hadn’t worked out. When he’d made a business proposition to her instead of a heartfelt engagement, she gracefully turned him down. Telling him that as much as she cared about him, she knew he didn’t love her. She’d been right. He’d given his heart and soul to one girl over a decade ago, and he’d never gotten it back.
Chelsi had changed, too. Memories of her in her baggy apparel came before him. She was still lovely but in a more mature fashion. Her body had filled out. He could tell from the swell of her breasts under her shirt and the sway of her full ass as she’d walked away. Run away was more like it.
He frowned. It still bothered him days later. Why hadn’t she wanted to have dinner with him? It was possible that after all these years some guy had swept her off her feet and married her. Did she have kids? By her appearance in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, it was very possible she was a stay at home mother.
The thought of seeing Chelsi pregnant with a baby made his gut clench. When they had dated, they didn’t spend a lot of time talking about marriage and raising a family. They only spoke of their love and mutual career goals. If she had found happiness with someone else, he should be excited for her, not have the desire to rip a guy’s head off for even touching her. His life hadn’t been celibate so he had no place to judge her, but jealousy still bled through his body like acid, burning him up everywhere it touched.
He knew she’d felt the spark arc between them. He’d noted the distinct points of her nipples when he’d touched her, proof she wasn’t immune. Even through all of her clothing he’d seen how those dark tips looked tight with arousal. His mouth became moist just thinking about how they felt along his tongue. His cock hardened and pressed against the back of his zipper. What would it be like to make love to her now knowing a lot more than he had when he was eighteen and fumbling around nervously?
Staring back at the plate combination again, he told himself for the umpteenth time he had no right to seek her number out and call her. If she was married, he would cause strife. It was best to leave her alone.
“Boss, all parties have arrived and are set up in the board room. They are ready when you are.” Mike, his personal assistant, came through the intercom, shaking Vin out of his reflections.
“Give me a few minutes. I’ll be right along.”
“Yes, sir.” The intercom light on his desk phone went away, telling him that Mike had disconnected the communication link.
Vin picked up the folder for his new business. Creating a chain of stores designed for pregnant women and infants. This was probably to blame for all his thoughts of wondering how Chelsi would look pregnant.
Rising, he picked up his cell phone with all intentions of erasing the plate then stopped. Without giving it further thought, he reached over and picked up his desk phone, dialing a familiar number.
“Mecklenburg County Forensics Department. Miller.” The rough but chipper voice came through the line.
“Zeth, I need a favor.”
“Vin, my man, how’s it hangin’? What’s up?” They’d been friends for so long, Vin didn’t need to tell Zeth it was him on the phone, and the reverse was true.
“I need you to run a plate for me and give me contact information for the person.” Vin didn’t allow himself to weigh the probabilities of his decision.
Zeth’s voice lowered a little. “If I go down for something illegal, you better have a position for me at that damn corporate empire of yours.”
Chuckling, Vin said, “You got it.” It was a frequent joke between them. Vin rarely called his friend for help unless his HR department was getting a delay on someone’s background check.
“Give it to me.”
Rattling off the number, Vin wait a moment for Zeth to repeat it.
“It isn’t for the president, is it?”
“No.”
“Right. You probably have that fucking number on speed dial anyway,” Zeth bit back.
Not answering, Vin laughed.
“Is a couple of hours okay? I’m at the tail end of my part of an investigation, and if I don’t get it done soon, it will be my ass.”
“Perfect. I’ve got a meeting now and two following that so that’ll work,” Vin confirmed.
“Great.”
They ended the call, and Vin walked out of his office. Mike was no longer at his desk, and Vin knew his assistant would already be in the boardroom, ready and waiting to take notes. Wasting no more time than it took to get down the hall and give a brief nod to the six pregnant women sitting in chairs outside the conference room, Vin grabbed the brass knob of the solid oak door and entered the room, feeling like shit for asking his friend to pull her number. But he wanted to see her again.
* * * *
“I’ll start off talking about our concept for the designs and then you can handle the showing and the PowerPoint on the other items in the catalogue. I’ll close with other tie in ideas.” Peter leaned in and whispered in her ear.
She didn’t know why he was telling her this again. They’d already rehearsed how they would handle the meeting two times yesterday. However, she could understand his nervousness. Getting this contract would be a big deal for them. They weren’t sure how many other designers were in the running for the contract owned by Point Corporation, a multifaceted company that had connections in diverse businesses around the country. It was a fully American product business, and the CEO, the man everyone only referred to as the boss, was a leader in his time.
Apparently, he’d decided to sit in on this meeting, and that’s who they
were all waiting for.
“Thank you, everyone, for your patience.”
Chelsi hadn’t even heard the heavy silent door open, but the voice that spoke struck her like an arrow, piercing her heart, making her turn instantly and pray. Dear Lord, give me the strength not to fall through the floor.
Vincent strolled into the room, wearing a smoke gray suit and burgundy tie, like he owned the place. And apparently he did.
She knew the moment Vincent recognized her sitting two seats away from him on the other side of Peter, because his blue eyes darkened with amazement. Chelsi was just as shocked at seeing him, but she was relieved she no longer had to worry about his last image of her being in ratty cut-offs and a faded t-shirt.
She didn’t know he owned the company, but from what she’d seen of him at the grocery store and his being carted around in a limo, she could have pieced things together if she’d allowed herself more than exhaustion induced dreams of him. Discovering now he was “the boss” made her feel glad that she would be able to leave a better lasting impression on Vincent then the last time he’d seen her. Even if nothing else came about between them.
After the introductions were made all around and Vincent shook hands with Peter, they exchanged words, and Vincent told him how he always enjoyed Densa Fashion’s designs. Chelsi watched Peter, completely taken in by Vincent’s sophisticated charm, smile broadly before he introduced her.
“This is Chelsi—”
“Halifax.” Vincent finished as he stretched his hand out towards her.
She didn’t want to touch him. She recalled too vividly the last time they had touched and how her body had responded. But it would be rude for her not to accept his gesture in front of his employees and her boss. Reaching out, she allowed his large hand to engulf her own. The heat from his touch was warm and familiar.
“You two know each other?” Peter inquired.
“Yes, we’re acquainted—” Vincent began.
