The Essence of Fate

by Alison E. Steuart

  And where does my mind come up with the shit it comes up with whenever he is around? How much would I enjoy the pain he could inflict… Where the hell did that come from? I don’t think I can even tell Erika that one.

  I have to get these last few emails sent, and then I’m out of here. I really should go to the gym and work off some of this stress. Committing myself to doing just that, I hit send on the last reply, pack up my things, and head out. I am now looking forward to sweating, exhausting myself, and hopefully getting back to center.

  As I’m walking toward the lobby to chat with Tracy before I leave, I’m surprised to see several people from the Novas Alturas group mingling there. I assumed they all left before Ian stopped by my office. Gabriel is there. He seems to be a head taller than everyone else and is looking my way, waving for me to come over. I really just want to leave right now, but I can’t be rude. So I walk over with the intention of staying in my role as general manager and then moving on.

  Gabriel enthusiastically brings everyone’s attention to me with an introduction. “Everyone, this is the lovely Charlotte LeFay, the general manager of this fine resort. You have perfect timing, Charlotte. We were discussing today’s fabulous meal and how impressed we are with your conference room and its wall of windows overlooking those spectacular gardens. I believe we have all come to an agreement that we are going to steal the idea.” Deep male laughter mingles and echoes through the lobby. I can’t help but be flattered, and I tell them so.

  After a few more introductions and shared compliments, I bid them all farewell and head toward the exit. Gabriel excuses himself from the crowd, joining me as I leave. “Do you mind if I walk you to your car?” he says like a true gentleman.

  “Of course not. Thank you.” I’m not really sure what else to say. After my conversation with Ian, I’m not up for dealing with another man that is obviously interested in me. But at least with Gabriel, I can breathe when he’s around. He doesn’t feel like a threat.

  As soon as we are outside, he says, “I would be honored if you would join me for dinner. I know tonight is late notice, but perhaps tomorrow?”

  There is something so old-fashioned about Gabriel. It’s charming and, in a way, kind of appealing. Which has me wondering why the hell Ian McAlistair turns me into a wet ball of goo every time he is near. Ian is so not old-fashioned.

  For whatever reason, I guess to spite myself—and probably Ian—I turn to Gabriel and say, “That sounds wonderful! Tomorrow evening is open.”

  He looks so genuinely happy and his smile is so striking, I almost want to laugh. What the hell is up with me? I need to go home and really take a good look at myself in the mirror. I know I am not a bad-looking woman, but between Ian and Gabriel, I’ve managed to attract two very successful, supermodel-looking men, all in a matter of a week. It’s weird because I simply don’t see myself as that good looking. It has to be something else.

  “You have made my day even better, Charlotte. I will spend tomorrow looking forward to seeing you again.” With that, we exchange phone numbers and a lingering goodbye. He opens my car door, then reaches down, once again taking my hand to his lips, his brown eyes soft with affection as he places a gentle kiss there. “Until then, my dear Charlotte.” And he walks away.

  Finally alone and safe from hot guys and wicked hormones, it dawns on me that tomorrow I am having lunch with Ian and dinner with Gabriel. I’m beginning to think I’ve lost my mind.

  As soon as I walk through my front door, I grab my phone and sit down to call Erika. The drive home with loud music wasn’t enough to help me sort through everything in my head.

  She picks up after the first ring. “Hey, gorgeous! What kind of fun did you get yourself into today? I’m starting to look forward to these daily reports. It’s like one of those cable series that sucks you in and won’t let go.”

  “Haha…Erika. I wish that were the case. Then we could sit and watch it together and talk about everyone as if they were real. But in this case….it is real and I’m the main character! You’re not going to believe what I did.”

  “That’s probably true considering everything that’s happened up to this point and the texts you sent me earlier. I’m guessing it has something to do with the Brazilian you mentioned.”

  “Yeah, I’m having dinner with Gabriel Azeveda tomorrow night.”

  “Damn. What’s up with you and guys with sexy names? That’s about as yummy as Ian McAlistair, just a different flavor.”

  “Yeah, that’s not all that’s yummy about Gabriel. He’s gorgeous, like Brazilian hot-male-model gorgeous. And he’s a gentleman!”

  “Nice. This sounds like the distraction you need to get your mind off Ian. So what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is, Ian showed up at my office before I ran into Gabriel. I think he was trying to be normal and not some freakish sex god with an unexpected ability to draw portraits that steal your heart, because he politely asked if I would join him for lunch tomorrow. To which I said I didn’t think that was a good idea, but then he put on the hard-sell with a sort of apology, we got off on the wrong foot, let’s just see where it takes us kind of thing…and I said okay!”

  “Whoa…that was a lot. Let me get this straight. Tomorrow, you’re having lunch with Ian and dinner with Gabriel? This actually has ménage potential. You’re such a bitch! What frigging hot-guy lottery did you win? I wanna play, this seriously isn’t fair!”

  “Erika! Stop thinking with your pussy!”

  We both stop in a fit of laughter for at least a minute. “This isn’t funny. Well, that was funny, but tomorrow isn’t funny. I shouldn’t have accepted Gabriel’s invitation. I think I did it because I was mad at Ian and mad at myself, or maybe I was overwhelmed and wasn’t thinking. I don’t know!”

  “Why were you mad at Ian and yourself? That doesn’t really make sense.”

  “No, on the surface it doesn’t. But there was an exchange between us that started off innocent, then the vibe changed to this intense sexual energy that I swear, Erika, it alters everything inside me. I can’t explain it, but it scares the hell out of me. And the look on his face… God, it’s enough to melt me right on the spot. When it happens, which is every damn time I’m around him, I shut down and mentally run for the hills. And that’s exactly what I did, and I’m pretty sure he was livid about it because he left with barely a goodbye.”

  “Jeez, Charlotte. That’s heavy. Especially for you, and I understand why it scares you, but he doesn’t seem to be going anywhere so maybe you should just ride the wave. Quit fighting it so much. It’s kind of like how we’ve always been taught about the run-outs at the beach—if you get caught in one, you go with it and slowly swim to the side until you reach calmer waters. If you swim against it, fighting its strength, you get exhausted and weak and that’s how you drown.”

  “Wow…that was quite an analogy, Erika. You’re getting wise in your old age.”

  “Careful, sister. Might I remind you I’m nine months younger than you.”

  Laughing, I reply, “Touché!”

  “Listen, relax and stop beating yourself up about everything that involves Ian. Go have lunch with him, be yourself, and enjoy yourself. You’re not obligated to him in any way, you’re just having lunch. Then go out and enjoy your evening with Gabriel. You’re not obligated to him, either. It’s just a date. You don’t even have to kiss either one of them, so it’s not like you’re double-dipping or something slutty like that.”

  I cringe at the thought. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not going to have either of them pick me up. I’ll drive myself, that way I have an escape if I need it. And I’m definitely not kissing either of them. Bad things happen when I kiss Ian, and you’re right, I’d feel kind of slutty if I kissed Gabriel.” I don’t tell her that the thought of kissing Gabriel tightens my stomach, but not in a good way. It’s more like terrible guilt and betrayal. What the hell has Ian done to me?

  “See? You’ve got it all figured out. Now stop stressing
and go enjoy a glass of wine. Then you can fall asleep and have a wet dream about a threesome with Ian and Gabriel!”

  She thinks that’s hilarious.

  “That’s great, Erika. Exactly what I need. And now that you’ve put it out there, I’m probably going to have the freaking dream!”

  “Okay, good! If you do, be sure to write it down as soon as you wake up so you don’t forget any details. I’ll want to know all about it.”

  “You’re twisted, you know that, right?”

  “Yes, and you love it. Good night, babe.”

  “Good night.”

  Twelve

  Ian

  The steady echo of walking down the hall and through the lobby was my only focus after I left Charlotte’s office earlier. Using the repetitive tap to discipline my brain and keep me moving forward. Otherwise, if I followed my instincts, I’d end up right where I always do…with her adding reinforcements to the fucking blockade she’s got around herself, which is the complete opposite of what I’m trying to do.

  If she didn’t awaken such intense emotions inside me, I’d say screw it and leave her in the lonely goddamn tower she’s so fond of. But that simply is not an option, especially now that Gabriel-fucking-Azeveda is sniffing around.

  Sitting at the traffic light, I rev the engine, the vibration equivalent to the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I do it again and again, wanting it to move, to feel the power of the engine as I shift gears, controlling its speed, its tenor, its every move, eventually bringing it to its full potential. Like I want to do with Charlotte. She has no idea what I am capable of making her feel, that through that kind of pleasure she has the freedom to let go, to shed the baggage that weighs her down and become acquainted with her full potential. If she did, she wouldn’t be avoiding me. She’d be fucking addicted, and she’d be mine.

  But not yet. Charlotte’s not going to let things be that easy. It blows my mind how every time I think I’m playing the right move, she blindsides me with a clean sweep of the whole goddamn table and I’m back to square one. I wish I knew what has her so afraid, what shuts her down at the blink of an eye. Like earlier when she briefly let down her walls and was being herself, playfully mocking me, pursing her lips, and winking. It was like she shot an arrow right through the center of my chest—the effect was immediate and intense. That’s all she had to do, give me that brief glimpse and I was done. I wanted her so badly, it was painful. Making matters worse, I could, once again, see her reaction to me. Beautiful eyes shifting from light to dark, parted lips, her body softening from the heating of her blood. It was one poetic and primal and I didn’t want it to end. Then she realized what was happening, and before I could catch my breath, she shut down and started treating me like I was some random client giving me a stamped out thank-you and ‘we look forward to working with you again.’ I think I actually saw red in that moment, so I left.

  I’m starting to see a pattern here, and I can’t say I like it very much. I must be a glutton for punishment, though, because I keep coming back for more. It will be interesting to see how lunch goes tomorrow.

  Crowded, on land, no ulterior motives… I had to make an effort not to let my jaw drop when she laid out those ridiculous stipulations. Her fear controls her, and since Jackson won’t divulge any details as to why, I’m left with a mystery, one on which I should not speculate.

  Instead of going home where I know I will just be agitated and impatient, I decide to visit Nana, who always brightens my day. Pulling up to her waterfront townhouse with its perfectly manicured everything, I get out of my car only to be greeted by her neighbor Judy. Dammit. She’s always trying to get me to date her granddaughter, and it’s awkward because it’s never going to happen.

  “Ian! How good to see you, and looking so handsome as always.” Her voice is a little too enthusiastic and irritating. I need to cut this short.

  “Hello, Judy. Nice to see you, as well.” I keep walking toward Nana’s gate with my key in hand for a quick escape.

  “My granddaughter will be here next week. I know she’d love to meet you. Maybe you could take her for a ride in your boat.” I stop abruptly and find her practically running into me from behind. Turning, I have to grab her shoulders to insure she doesn’t topple over.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Judy. I’m seeing somebody. But thank you for thinking of me…again.” It came out short and to the point, my intentions made clear.

  “Oh. I see. Well, that’s too bad. My Jennifer is quite a catch.” She’s a bit snippy now, as if I’ve somehow insulted her Jennifer, but I’m to the point where I don’t care. She never lets up, even when I tell her no. She mumbles something else as she walks away, probably something about me being an asshole, and once again, I don’t care.

  Nana greets me in the foyer, as sweet and adorable as ever. “Hello, dear. You look weary. Did your meeting not go as well as you expected?” Reaching up as I bend down, she grabs my cheeks and kisses my forehead.

  “No, the meeting went as planned. We partnered. You’re likely seeing the annoyance of having to deal with Judy trying to set me up with her granddaughter again. I don’t know how you put up with her. Doesn’t she get on your nerves?”

  Nana laughs. “Yes, she can be annoying. We all can when we get old, so we tend to overlook it in our peers. But she’s always willing to go do anything. She’s not a stick in the mud like everyone else, and she actually has a pretty great sense of humor. We have fun together.” She has a big smile on her face, but it has a sort of cat-ate-the-mouse look to it. When she sits down and finishes her statement, I know why. “You would never guess, but Judy is obsessed with erotic romance novels. Not warm and fuzzy romance novels. I’m talking about the heavy stuff, and the more detailed the better.”

  I’m definitely surprised, and it must show on my face because Nana is laughing even harder. “Wow. What a strange obsession for a woman her age.” I sit in the chair opposite her.

  “She got a Kindle for Christmas a few years ago from her son. Little does he know, he gave her Pandora’s box instead.” Her tittering laugh shakes her body as the mischievous sparkle in her eyes brightens. “Once she figured out how the thing worked, she ran across a book with a raunchy cover and was curious. She’s been hooked ever since.” Her tone is matter-of-fact as her hand smacks down on her lap with the finality of a judge’s gavel.

  “Don’t look so scandalized, Ian. It’s endless hours of fun for us old ladies. She tells me all about each book and we laugh until we cry. I bet we’re both going to live longer because of it! Do you have any idea how funny it is to hear an eighty-seven-year-old woman talk about butt pl…—”

  I hold up my hand and give her a firm look. “That’s enough, Nana. I really don’t need to hear that. You can save your trash-talk laughing fits for Judy.” I can’t wait to tell Jackson this one. He will laugh for a week straight. I hold in a laugh of my own so I don’t encourage her to keep going. She’s like a child that way. You give an inch, she’ll take a mile, so to speak.

  “What? It’s not like you’ve got virgin ears or something. You’ve probably done everything she reads about. Hell, I’ve done at least half of it.”

  Here we go; she’s trying to take the mile.

  “I’m sure you have, and I’m very happy for you…and Grandfather.” I give her a wink, and she loves it. “However, that is not a conversation I’m comfortable having. You really should save it for Judy.” I tip my head and raise an eyebrow.

  “Well, you’re no fun. What’s the matter, are you not getting any lately? Charlotte still holding out?”

  That catches me off guard. “Nana…how did you know her name is Charlotte? I don’t recall ever giving you that information.” I sound like I’m talking to a child that is attempting to lie about an obvious truth.

  She looks out the window and down to the floor, avoiding my eyes, her exaggerated guilt like the performance of a soap opera actor. Finally she says, “I called Jackson and asked him…well, begged him to gi
ve me her name. But don’t be mad! It was all for a good cause. After our last conversation, I thought about what you said…about her avoiding you, that she’s afraid of you. So, I wanted to do some research.”

  Oh boy. I can’t believe Jackson fell for this. Well maybe, I can…but still.

  I’m not mad at her, but I am definitely surprised. I think I would have rather she just ask me for her name, not be sneaky about it. “Nana, isn’t that prying? Have you ever done some research on anyone else I’ve been seeing?”

  “No! Never had a reason to. You barely talked about them. This one is different. And if you’d stop acting like you’re my father, I’ll tell you what I found out. It may be helpful.” Now she’s serious, a stern expression accentuating her tone.

  She’s piqued my curiosity. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  Taking a deep breath, she begins. “I figured something major happened if she was so adamantly resisting you the way you’ve insinuated. Let’s face it, Ian. You’re prime real estate, and any woman that doesn’t fall for you is either a lesbian—and even then she could still fall—or she’s had some sort of emotional trauma. Now, you said Jackson insists she hasn’t been abused, thank goodness, so it has to be something else that hits close to home.” Her eyes soften, and I’m suddenly struck with a need to protect Charlotte…and I don’t even know what the hell happened.

  “What are you getting at, Nana?” I’m impatient because the look in her eyes says she found something and that it’s not good.

  “I did some private investigative work on Google, and I found an obituary for Michael LeFay, Charlotte’s father. It mentioned that he was tragically taken, so I searched for any information on what this tragedy might have been. It took a while, but I found what I was looking for, and I believe it is the key to why she is so afraid of you and her feelings.”