Lucky Charm

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Lucky Charm Page 1

by Amelia Kingston




  Lucky Charm

  By Amelia Kingston

  Copyright © 2018 by Amelia Kingston

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by an means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One – The E-mail

  Chapter Two – Thursdays

  Chapter Three – The Beginning

  Chapter Four – The Aftermath

  Chapter Five – Introductions

  Chapter Six – The Reunion

  Chapter Seven – Moving Forward

  Chapter Eight – Take Two

  Chapter Nine – The First Date

  Chapter Ten – The Rules

  Chapter Eleven – The First Time

  Chapter Twelve – The Loss

  Chapter Thirteen – The Carving

  Chapter Fourteen – Monday Morning

  Chapter Fifteen – The Second Date

  Chapter Sixteen – The Dance

  Chapter Seventeen – The Japan Trip

  Chapter Eighteen – The Other Shoe Drops

  Chapter Nineteen – The Fight

  Chapter Twenty – Tables Turning

  Chapter Twenty One – The Final Chapter

  Epilogue

  Reader Thank You

  About The Author

  Chapter One - The E-mail

  Connor Grayson. His name seemed to pulse on her computer screen in time to the racing beats of her heart. It had been thirty minutes since she had seen his e-mail pop into her inbox and all she had managed to do in that time was stare at it in petrified terror. What could he possibly have to say to her after all these years? Every inch of her yearned to know, but she was too scared to open his e-mail and find out. It was the first correspondence between them in eleven years.

  There wasn’t a word in the English language capable of describing what they were to each other, but they weren’t friends. They never had been, not in high school and certainly not now. How could they be after what she had done, how she had treated him? She knew he was lost to her forever because she had chosen it that way. It wasn’t how she wanted it, but it was how she needed it. He wasn’t in her life and he never could be.

  As she sat at her mahogany desk in her corner office on the 32nd floor of the Hyde Plaza office building in her perfectly tailored suit, that familiar empty feeling came back to the pit of her stomach. She had spent years trying to quell this feeling with her ever increasing goals for professional and financial success. It had pushed her, driven her to work longer hours, make harder sacrifices, and do the jobs no one else wanted. It had gotten her here, on the verge of being the youngest partner ever at one of the most prestigious law firms in the country, Phillips, Morrissey & Tanner. At twenty-eight, Samantha Cane had already graduated from Stanford law school, landed a coveted internship and turned it into a Senior Associate position with a six figure salary. This year she purchased her first uptown apartment. On her thirty year plan, she was well ahead of schedule. She was financially independent and professionally successful. And the empty feeling was as strong as ever.

  His e-mail sat in her inbox, taunting her.

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Subj: Introductions and Meeting Time

  A thousand scenarios played out in her head. Maybe it had taken him this many years to forgive her and he wanted to talk. Maybe it was another Connor Grayson. It wasn’t a common name, but surely there was at least one other Connor Grayson in the world. Maybe he finally got the nerve to tell her off like she had expected when they were in high school. Worst of all the possibilities floating around in her imagination, maybe he had gotten married and wanted to introduce her to his new beautiful wife.

  Over the years she had typed up hundreds of messages to him, texts, emails, and even handwritten letters. She poured her heart out, begging for forgiveness, asking to see him. In the end she always deleted or burned them, destroying the evidence of her weakness. Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes as the last words exchanged between them slithered up the back of her mind and into her conscious thoughts. It made her feel sick. It always had. She bit down on the inside of her cheek bringing a metallic taste and the distraction of pain to her rescue against the onslaught of tears. She wouldn’t cry. She hadn’t cried since that night, their last night together. She tried to will herself to look anywhere but down at her computer screen. The papers on her desk, the awards framed on her wall, the city bustling outside her floor-to-ceiling windows couldn’t hold her attention. She remained glued to the bold type of the unread e-mail.

  She tried to think of anything but Connor and the words he might want to say to her. Her mind refused to obey her when she desperately tried not to think back to that time, those nights, with Connor. Now over a decade old, the memories still made her skin tingle and her cheeks flush. He had never spoken more than a few words to her, but the last three of them were “I love you”. When she was seventeen he had taken her virginity and her heart.

  A voice saying her name made Samantha start and brought her back to the real world though her memories were still thick in the air around her, her thoughts still clouded by them.

  “Ms. Cane, do you want me to confirm the appointment with Mr. Grayson for this week?” Tammy was her assistant, a sweet, but moderately annoying chubby girl in her mid-twenties. Yet again Tammy had come into Samantha's office without knocking first and waiting for a reply despite being told several times to do so. Samantha had to be explicit in her directions to Tammy and never expect too much. She wasn’t as bright, educated, or experienced as a lot of the other applicants who had interviewed for the position. Samantha had hired her because she had an understated dedication and a genuine desire to help people.

  Tammy had arrived for her interview fifteen minutes early on a day that was spectacularly busy for the firm. They had just landed a major case which was slated to start litigation in three days. It was an all-hands-on-deck effort for the firm with everyone running around trying to make calls, send files, copy briefs. The receptionist was overwhelmed with the influx of tasks the lawyers without assistants had been handing her. When Tammy walked up, the receptionist was almost in tears. Tammy immediately asked what she could do and started taking on some of the smaller tasks, like making copies, getting coffee, walking files from one office to the next. She had plenty of time to do it because Samantha ended up interviewing her forty-five minutes late in all the hustle. Samantha was actually underwhelmed with Tammy’s interview and had written her off. She walked Tammy to the elevator, giving her the “We’ll be in touch” speech, when the receptionist walked over and gave her a hug.

  “Thank you so much! You were a lifesaver,” The receptionist said with genuine sincerity. Samantha had looked confused and Tammy just replied she was happy to help before hopping in the elevator and leaving without any explanation.

  “What was that hug all about?” Samantha asked the receptionist after Tammy had left.

  “Oh, I was so swamped when she got here she just jumped in and started helping me out with some of the requests for the other associates,” the receptionist chirped again with genuine thankfulness in her voice. Tammy hadn’t said a word. She didn’t do it because she thought it would land her the job. She just saw someone who neede
d a bit of help and did what she could. She hadn’t even thought to mention it in the interview to get bonus points. Samantha didn’t interview anyone else and Tammy had been with her ever since despite her inability to knock before coming into an office.

  “Ms. Cane?” Tammy was still standing there, pen and paper in hand, waiting for her to answer.

  “I’m sorry Tammy. I didn't hear you knock,” the comment wasn't lost on Tammy whose only response was to look down sheepishly. “What did you say?” Samantha finally looked up, realizing she had been asked a question. Her mind was trying to shake off the fog and piece together what she had said. She asked about confirming a meeting. What meeting? Whose name did she say? Did she say Mr. Grayson? That couldn’t be right.

  “Are you okay? You look a bit…” thankfully Tammy didn’t finish her thought. Samantha didn’t want to know what she looked like right now. If she had to, panicked would be her guess at the word Tammy knew better than to say.

  “I’m fine. What did you need?” Samantha was more curt than usual, but Tammy was used to the clipped tone. Samantha used it with everyone, so she didn't take it personally.

  “I wanted to know if you wanted me to confirm the meeting this week with Mr. Grayson. You have an availability Wednesday afternoon,” she had said his name. Samantha wasn’t dreaming. She couldn’t form a response and managed to just stare at Tammy with a confused look on her face, something Tammy had never seen before. “From Republic Consulting International. Did you not see his e-mail?” Samantha had given Tammy access to her work e-mail in order to keep her schedule, update her contacts, and other general office management things. Samantha never mixed her personal life, what little there was of one any way, and professional life, so it had never been a concern for her before that her assistant could read any e-mail she wanted. It wasn’t until this moment that Samantha realized this very personal e-mail was also available for Tammy to read. Immediately, Samantha’s eyes shot down to her computer screen at the still bold e-mail sitting unopened in her inbox. Before she had time to second guess herself, she clicked on it and read it to herself in a half-whisper trying to make sense of it while Tammy still stood in her doorway awaiting her directions.

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Cc: [email protected]; [email protected]

  Subj: Introductions and Meeting Time

  Ms. Cane-

  My firm's services have been retained to assist Phillips, Morrissey, & Tanner with the upcoming merger with Keiretsu International Holdings. I would like to schedule a time this week to do some preliminary introductions and discuss the way forward on this project.

  Please let me know when you are available.

  Looking forward to working with you and your team.

  Sincerely,

  Connor Grayson

  Acquisitions Consultant

  The last line of his signature was a small picture of him wearing a tailored navy suit and a familiar easy smile. Without a doubt this was her Connor.

  She read the e-mail three times, still trying to understand it. It was from Connor, but it wasn’t, not really. At least, not him personally. It was basically a form letter. The same introduction letter he sends to all his clients. He had cc'd her boss and someone else from his firm, a woman. Was she his boss? His partner? Could she be something more? Samantha’s mind was lost in a world of what-ifs again until the sound of Tammy tapping her pen on her notepad brought her back. Samantha swallowed hard, choking down all the possibilities and questions.

  “Yes. Please schedule the meeting. Have all the staff who will be working on the Keiretsu merger available and reserve a conference room,” Samantha’s voice was flat as Tammy scribbled down her few simple directions before leaving.

  Alone again in her office, Samantha read and re-read Connor’s e-mail until the reality started to sink in. There were a few things she knew for sure.

  Her firm hired Connor.

  They would be working together.

  She would be seeing him again the day after tomorrow.

  He either didn’t remember her or didn't care.

  Their time together hadn’t meant to him what it had meant to her. What it still meant to her.

  She bit down on her cheek again, this time the metallic taste filling her entire mouth.

  Chapter Two - Thursdays

  Connor never liked Thursdays. Most people hated Mondays, the first day back to work. Connor loved Mondays. They were always busy. There was always some new project or issue that he would need to tackle. He liked the element of surprise with each Monday, finding out what had fallen apart or popped up over the weekend. It was the day with the most unknowns and he loved that.

  Some people don’t like Wednesdays. Hump day. The farthest point from either weekend and truly where the drudgery of the week really took hold. Not for Connor. Wednesdays he hit his stride. He’d tackled the major Monday crises (inevitably there were some) and pushed through all the routine little things on Tuesday. Wednesday he spread his wings, reaching farther and getting more done than any other day.

  Then came Thursdays. They held no new challenges, just the implicit threat that nothing new could be started because the weekend was right around the corner. He’d either have to stop or finish whatever he had. Connor hated stopping. Anything worth doing was worth doing until it was done. Nothing annoyed him more than the half-finished project, the half-lived life.

  When Connor worked something, he was like an avalanche, building speed and force as he went along until he was unstoppable. Like any other force of nature, he also hated being controlled and functioned best with complete freedom to maneuver. It was pretty rare to get that type of liberty in the world of international corporate consulting, a field Connor didn’t know existed until about five years ago when he finally had to start looking for an actual adult job.

  He had never been a planner and liked to take things as they came, making decision, big or small, based mostly on his intuition. He did what felt right in the moment. He had lettered in almost every sport in high school, but took a scholarship to play baseball because it felt right, not because he had any idea what came next. The decision had seemed that simple to him at the time. He majored in communications because talking to people was just part of who he had always been.

  It wasn’t until halfway through his senior year of college that he started, at his parents urging, thinking about what was next. While his dedication had ensured he was a starter all four years of college, he knew that he wasn’t going to make it in the Major Leagues. He had no idea what jobs came from a degree in communications. As it turns out, not many. At that point, school still seemed like where he was supposed to be which was how he ended up getting his MBA. Connor didn’t plan out his choices, but once made he committed himself to them fiercely. When something felt right and he committed to it, it was all he could see. He never doubted and he never turned back. He completed his MBA with honors even though he had no idea what to do with it.

  In addition to being determined, Connor was clever and charming, two traits that nearly always seemed to get him through despite his lack of planning. They were what got his foot in the door at Republic Consulting International as an acquisitions consultant. His job essentially entailed making sure everyone played nice and stayed happy during major corporate mergers. There are hundreds of people who deal with the logistics and financial details of the merger. Brilliant people with accounting spreadsheets and lots of graphs. Connor understood most of what they did, but he would rather be the root canal practice patient at a third rate dental school than spend his hours staring at spreadsheets all day. Luckily, he had a much rarer skill set. He knew people. He knew how to talk to them and he knew how to figure out what they wanted. All but one, Samantha Cane. Her desires had always been a mystery to him. He hadn’t heard from her in eleven years and wasn’t likely to anytime soon. Or so he thought before Rebecc
a called him into her office. On a Thursday.

  “Connor, come in please. Have a seat,” Rebecca had a friendly smile on her face. She had been the one who recruited Connor out of business school five years ago. She had come to his college to give a guest lecture on global markets which had turned into an argument between two students over price gouging of food sourcing. The argument quickly escalated into accusations of racism and socialist ignorance with threats of “taking it outside” being shouted across the lecture hall. Seeing that the professor had completely lost control of the room, Connor stood up, demanding the room’s attention with his calm confidence. He asked each student a few questions which his sincere tone made each student answer honestly. Connor then found the tiniest of common ground (in this case, all babies are cute and deserve not to starve), told a quick, self-deprecating joke about himself being a hideous baby and the only exception, and instantly diffused the tension in the room.

  Looking around that lecture hall at the now smiling faces Rebecca had seen dollar signs. Since then she had given him a fairly wide range of difficult projects, but no matter how challenging the client or how antagonistic the merger, everyone always raved about Connor. Women in particular couldn’t get enough of his six foot muscled frame and steely grey eyes. Rebecca being ten years older than him, his boss, and happily married herself made her mostly immune to his dashing ways. Today she was more worried about his sharp tongue than his cute dimples. She knew he hated being pulled off a project before completion and he had some weird superstition about starting projects on Thursdays. Usually she obliged him his idiosyncrasies because he got the job done better than any of her other consultants. Today she was going to make him break both of his rules and he was going to make her morning difficult because of it.

  “What’s up? Did you want an update on the Stevens-Walker project? Everything is on track for the seventh…” Connor had launched into his update as soon as he sat down, assuming it was the only reason she would call him in.

 

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