by Ember Flint
Copyright
Copyright © 2018 Ember Flint
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. To request permission, contact the author.
Note from the Author: this is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters are represented as 18 or over. Also, in real life, remember: always safety first.
Cover design by: Pink Diamonds Waterfall
Edited by: New Wave Romance
To all of you insta-love aficionados out there, cynics can say what they want about it, but we know it can really happen.
Excerpt of Impetuously Irresistible
CHARLES
I do a double take as the Lexus peels from the curb, leaving Aston behind, standing with a very hard look on his face in front of Intimate Delights.
I’m not entirely sure what the hell did just happen, but being this impulsive is very much out of character for my usually calm and composed best friend and over a woman nonetheless.
Speaking about friends, I should really listen to Aston and make sure Sterling is alive.
They both just arrived from London and whereas jet lag gets serious and dour Aston a little odd and grumpy, it completely throws Sterling off, turning his happy-go-lucky self into a sleepy, pissed off bastard.
I pick up my cell and dial his number.
The phone rings several times before he answers —but this is not unusual for him; he is probably in a coma right now.
“What in the bloody hell do you want, Chuck?” he barks, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing, he wouldn’t appreciate any attempts at humor right now.
“And hello to you to, Ster. Merely checking up on you to make sure you were breathing.”
He groans loudly. “Breathing is not the problem, you moron. A blasted migraine and nausea are, alongside with you calling me that is.”
I chuckle at that, I really can’t help myself, jet lag really does a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde number on him.
“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine tonight, pal.”
I hear him sigh. “What is it that you want from me, Charles? Did Aston put you up to this? I told him to consider me dead until tomorrow.”
“And he did, we both did. That’s why I’m calling: I want to know where to send flowers.”
“Tosser…” he grits between his teeth. “You should have a bunch overnighted to my stepmother… then I can call her Monday and hopefully between the joy of tonight and the disappointment of then she’ll have a heart attack and leave us be.”
I laugh. “Well, still not pretty, but if you’re sarcastic, you’re getting there… do you want to come over for dinner? Cora will be there; you haven’t seen her in a long while.”
Sterling scoffs. “Dash it all! If she is there, then I must make haste… not. How is the presence of your bratty baby sister an inducement to leave my bed and drag myself to your penthouse?”
I roll my eyes. “She is not bratty; you haven’t seen her in years.”
“Yeah, right… I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”
I don’t take the dismissal personally, after all I’m talking with the ghost of my friend right now.
“At eight?” I ask, plainly messing with him.
Sterling snorts a little fake laugh. “Charlie, you are so funny, you should sell all your shares to Ast and consider stand-up comedy as a career. I’ll see you guys at brunch at best.”
I chuckle. “You’ll see me for sure, my friend, as for Ast, I cannot promise you anything.”
“What in the bloody fuck do you mean?” he asks.
Unseen, I shrug my shoulders. “It’s a long story, Ster, and honestly one that I don’t really know. I’ll try to fill you in tomorrow.”
Before I can add anything else, my dear friend hangs up on me with a grunt.
I sigh, shaking my head and when I see I’m still clutching the parcel with the lingerie in one hand I grimace and toss it beside me on the car seat.
One would think I’d be happy having just bought a daring, sexy lacy number as a present for my girlfriend’s birthday, one would, though, be sorely mistaken.
Still not as mistaken as I was three months ago when I actually started dating Louise Trenton —Lulu for her friends, Cruella for my sister.
Calling her a manipulative gold-digger would be a compliment and one that she would actually appreciate I think. She is that kind of woman.
I never had strong feelings for her, but then I never do, so no surprise there.
I guess, I got tired of being alone —I still am despite my being not single right now— and so I made myself ignore things about her that were adamantly there for me to see and for my best friends and sister to point out.
My opinion, though, is that one should always give a person a chance to prove you wrong.
My best friends, Aston and Sterling, often mock me with their dry Brit humor for my trusting nature and my undying optimism in the face of the many delusions life has thrown at me —especially in regard to women and my inability to meet one genuinely interested in me as a person—, but still I wanted to try and when I met Lulu, the attraction was there, so I said to myself why not and gave her a chance. And then another. And another.
There’s nothing substantial between us and there’s nothing about her I like —let alone love— beyond, perhaps her appearance, which is definitely not enough of a base for a relationship, at least not the kind of relationship I would wish to have.
I’m tired of being used by her like some sort of sugar daddy or something and I have enough of the gossip she has been spreading about us getting married —and I don’t even mean through our acquaintances: I have proof she has actually leaked the fake news to some inane magazine— and I’ve already decided to end things with her, after all we haven’t even been really together for over a month now.
But tomorrow is her twenty-sixth birthday and I’m definitely not the kind of bastard who would break up with a girlfriend on the eve of such an occasion, no matter how bitchy she is.
So I’ll just wait a couple of days and then end the misery that enduring her snobby, judgmental, greedy company has been.
The present I just got her is another example of her general superciliousness.
She not only picked the kind of gift I was to get her, she gave me specifics about fabric and model, a price range and also insisted on selecting the shop in which to make such a purchase, going as far as to actually naming the collection —it being the latest of a very well-known New York lingerie designer— from which I should have picked the piece.
So yeah, that’s Louise for you.
I don’t even know how I should feel about the whole thing.
I’m jaded, I’m lonely like hell and despite my positive views, I’m really starting to lose hope.
Maybe it’s just not meant to be, maybe a man cannot have it all.
And aside from a DOA love life, I can’t really complain about the rest, God knows how lucky I am.
I have loving parents and I can count on their support, both as a person and as a businessman — which unfortunately is more than either Aston or Sterling could say, if for different reasons—, I have a great relationship with my baby sister and at thirty-two I’m co-founder and co-owner along with one of my best friends of a thriving hedge fund corporation, aside from managing countless ventures tied w
ith my family’s business.
All of it, makes me quite stressed, but also very successful, I should be content if not outright happy yet I feel like something is missing: there’s a huge void inside of me and no matter how much I try to throw myself in my work, I can’t ever fill it.
—*—
I step out from my private elevator and into my penthouse and immediately —and very grumpily— I’m greeted by my baby sister.
She is crashing at my place for a couple of weeks as she gets ready for her finals and she was perfectly fine when I left her to her books on the management of environmental issues this morning so I can’t really account for her grouchy appearance and the annoyance flashing in her blue eyes.
“Hey, Cora, what’s the matter?” I ask, sliding off my leather jacket and haphazardly throwing it in the direction of the large sectional sofa.
She takes a step back to look up at me and scowls, shaking her head of short, springy strawberry blonde waves.
“Tell me you’re on your last chance with that horrible woman, bro, because frankly, after tonight, if you give her another possibility I’ll go straight to Daddy and ask him to disown you and have you committed.”
I laugh, but I’m honestly puzzled. “What are you talking about, Cora? What happened tonight?”
She sighs. “Not what happened, Charlie, what is happening right now,” she says extending one arm and pointing in the general direction of my bedroom.
I frown. “Cora, seriously, what do you mean?”
She comes to stand in front of me and pokes me in the chest. “Charlie, that crazy bitch you call girlfriend, showed up twenty minutes ago, invited herself in… or should I say freaking shoved past me and strode into your bedroom.”
I feel my eyebrows rise up my hairline. “What?!”
“That’s right, Cruella is in there ransacking your fucking bedroom looking for God knows what. Didn’t you tell me you never brought her here and that you only hang out at her place?”
“That’s true: I’ve never invited her over. I’m actually surprised the doorman let her up.”
“She probably fucking creeped out that poor fucker.”
“Cora! Language…” I mutter.
My sister gives me the finger and scoffs. “Pardonnez moi, Your Majesty, I might be slightly on edge for… you know, the general creepiness of this all. I tried to get her to leave, but she wouldn’t listen. Really, short of punching her in the face —which I was going to just before you showed up— I didn’t know how to get rid of her and then she locked herself in there.”
I rub my hands on my face. I wish I could really keep on acting shocked about this, but I would be lying to myself: this is exactly the kind of shit Louise would pull.
“I’ll take care of it, Cora, as soon as I find out what the fuck she’s doing in there.”
My sister mock-glares at me. “Watch that tongue, mister!”
I smirk at her. “Can’t tell me what to do, munchkin, I’m your big brother.”
She laughs. “Fine… but Charles?”
“What?” I ask, smiling at her.
“Please, send her packing.”
I chuckle. “I will, just not tonight. It’s her birthday tomorrow.”
My sister rolls her eyes. “Normally, I would agree with you, even with her being all slutty bitch and all, but she is locked in your freaking bedroom doing God knows what, so stop being good, bro. You have my blessing. Get her out of here.”
I kiss the top of her head. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I stalk to my bedroom and knock on the door. “Lulu, what are you doing in there? Open the—”
Before I finish the sentence, the door flings open.
“Charles, sweetie! I didn’t hear you come back,” she smiles cloyingly at me and air-kisses my cheeks.
I level her with a hard stare, it doesn’t come naturally to me. I’m a pretty laidback kinda guy, but she is seriously messing with me here.
“What are you doing here, Louise?”
She giggles, like seeing me pissed off just cracks her up or something.
“Charles, calm down… you know that dark and brooding look is more Aston’s kind of thing.”
I ignore her statement. “Again, Lulu, why are you here in my home, trashing my bedroom?”
She titters. “Darling I’m not trashing it. I mean, it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing.”
I cross my arms over my abdomen. “No, it’s not.”
Somewhere I hear Cora muffle a snorting giggle and I shake my head.
“I’m looking for my present.”
My eyes go wide. She’s got to be kidding me. “Your present?”
Louise nods. “That’s right. I know my birthday is technically tomorrow, but see: I’m not going to be in town then.”
I clench my jaw. “You are not going to be in town for your birthday, so you decided to come over and search my place in order to get your present?”
She shrugs and takes a step closer to me. “Oh, don’t be mad, sweetie. It’s just that I really need it. I’m leaving for Aruba in the morning with some friends and I totally have to wear it,” she explains, twirling a lock of black, straight hair around a finger and attempting this sort of pouty-slash-sultry kind of look.
Damn, this is so idiotic it fucking hurts my brain.
“You need the lingerie you ordered me to buy for you so you can wear it for your friends in Aruba on a trip you didn’t mention you were going to take?”
“Oh, now, don’t be all cranky, it doesn’t really suit you, Charles. Truth is, I don’t think this is going anywhere, do you?”
I laugh. This is unbelievable. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“Well you are hardly giving me another choice, sweetie, considering how bad you reacted to my decision to announce our engagement publicly.”
“Really? You want to pin this on me? On my bad reaction to you spouting off about an engagement between us that was never there to begin with?”
She opens her mouth to try and spit more of her crap, but I stop her.
“Never mind, I don’t want to hear this. Your present is on the couch in the living room. Have a good birthday and a good life and, Louise?”
She smiles at me.
I don’t really think she gets the finer nuances of a sarcastic tone.
“Yes?” she asks prancing out of the room in this ridiculous catwalk-sashay that I presume is supposed to be hot.
As soon as she picks up the parcel with the lingerie, I show her the door.
“Please, forget you ever knew me,” I say and close the door in her face.
I take a huge breath, feeling suddenly exhausted, but also completely relieved and almost elated to be free.
Cora comes strolling out of her room.
“Did that really just happen? She got rid of herself for you? You are free and still get to be the standup guy, the great hero in this?”
I laugh. “That’s right, sis. That’s me. The happiest guy that was ever dumped in the history of dating.”
She giggles. “I wish I could stay here and tease you for like the rest of the night, but I really have to study, Charlie, sweetie,” she mocks me, in a very creditable impression of Lulu’s fake-haute, cultured tone of voice.
I flip her the finger, making her gasp.
“Laugh as you want, I’m free from her brightly-painted clutches and you can’t bring me down from that high.”
I turn on my heels and strode to my study, deciding that rather than spend another minute trying to make sense of my now ex-girlfriend’s actions, I’d better occupy my time more productively by reviewing the résumés of the two main candidates for the position of office admin that Aston and I are going to interview after the weekend.
***
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Also by Ember Flint
Single Titles
Shots
Deck me up
Cash
Virgin Heart
At the Stroke of Midnight
Standalone Series
In Love in a New York Minute Series:
Devastatingly Desirable
Impetuously Irresistible
Enchantingly Entangled (Coming January 2019)