Wasted Love Boxed Set: Second Chance Romance Parts 1-3

by Charles, Colleen

  What was so important that Ashton couldn’t wait until I returned? She had to be desperate to ride that old wobbly bike. I tried calling her cell phone several times but it went to voice mail.

  I went inside to take a shower and refortify with a cup of strong, black coffee when my cell phone buzzed. Hoping it was Ashton returning my call I quickly answered.

  “Quinn!” Mr. Albertson bellowed. “How did the dinner go last night?”

  “We missed you,” I answered. “But everything went well. Thank you for treating us to such a lovely meal. The grouper was spectacular, as usual. You would have loved the special preparation in Cajun cream sauce. Just the right amount of kick.”

  Ashton and I had done a little less business and more catching up, I thought with a tad of guilt. Especially since my boss had foot the bill for our dinner. One more reason why I cared so deeply for and respected Albertson. What a standup guy. Unlike me, who women seemed to flee from like their long, silken blonde hair was on fire.

  “I’m sure you two had a lot to talk about.” He paused for a second. “I would like to see those plans today. Can we met at the office around two o’clock?”

  “Sure, I’ll see you then,” I said disconnecting the call. That would be if I could get Ashton to respond to my calls and texts.

  We couldn’t finalize the deal if I had nothing to show him. And how the hell would I explain that? Jeez, Mr. Albertson, I fucked her brains out and she ran away the next morning? My boss was so perceptive he’d probably know within the first few seconds we’d consummated our budding relationship. Ashton and I never did get around to business last night. Too much Cabernet. I remembered the things we did do last night and it brought a smile to my face. Having Ashton back in my bed was nothing but pure bliss. What had I done to screw that up again? What could have happened in the last twenty minutes to cause her to leave me?

  I thought about our conversation. I had told her what really happened the night we had sex and her brother had caught us. Well, I didn’t tell her everything, but enough for her to know why I had to leave without saying goodbye. I thought we were good after having that talk. I replayed our conversation over in my mind trying to figure out anything that may have hurt her. It couldn’t be because I’d found out I was the only man she’d ever slept with? Maybe Ashton decided not to completely forgive me after all? But that would be the worst possibility of all.

  I called and left her a final voice mail telling her that we had a meeting with Albertson at my office this afternoon to go over the plans. If she didn’t answer my calls within the next couple of hours, I was going to come to her hotel room. She couldn’t get away with avoiding me. I knew it was a quasi-threat but I didn’t care. After our night together, she owed me more face time. I knew this deal was important to Ashton and she wouldn’t just let it fall to the wayside.

  “Quinn!” I was jolted out of my ruminations by the frail voice of my Nanna calling from her house.

  “Nanna, what are you doing out of bed?” I took in her appearance. She was dressed in her best nightgown and her hair was brushed. She’d played up her trademark blue eyes with shadow and mascara and red lipstick completed her look. If he didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was meeting her best girlfriend for a leisurely lunch on the pier. But I did know better. Nanna held up a brown lunch bag.

  “I need you to run to your father’s office for me, my dear,” she called as she gave the bag a gentle shake. “Whatever will I do with that man? He forgot his lunch again. And I made his favorite tuna salad sandwich.”

  Nanna had been diagnosed with early onset dementia going on ten years now. But she’d really started to go downhill in the last few months. Because of her backward slide, I’d hired the best in-home, twenty-four-seven nurse money could buy to help her. I couldn’t be around as much as I wanted with the demands of the job. This way, I could rest easy during my long hours that she was cared for. Trudy, her caretaker, truly seemed to care about her as a woman in addition to a patient. But Nanna’s kind heart and sparkling wit hadn’t faded with her memory.

  Now, even though she used my name, she confused me with her son, my father. She still thought her beloved husband was alive.

  I gently took her hand and led her to the couch. “Nanna, I’ll take care of father’s lunch. I can drop it off on the way to school.”

  When the dementia was early on, we would try and correct her. Bring her back to the reality.

  But as the dementia escalated, she became more and more agitated when anyone corrected her. Sometimes, it was best to just allow her to remain tightly locked in her alternate world where the past had stood still. The doctor recommended we just play along so as not to upset her. She eventually would find her way back to brief glimmers of lucidity.

  These days it was taking longer and longer for her to get there. It brought tears to my eyes to see my grandmother start to wither away. I didn’t think it would be much longer before her brain was completely destroyed by dementia. And I’d lose her, too, just like I’d lost Papa.

  I kept hold of her hand, trying to rub some warmth into it. Her thin skin remained littered with blue veins. “I’m sure Dad will be happy to have your delicious tuna salad. It always was his most favorite.” The compliment seemed to placate her.

  She gave me a frail hug. “You’ve always been the best son, Chip. I know I’ll never have to worry about you. You’ve made me and your father so proud. He told me so just this morning.”

  Tears pricking my eyes, I glanced at my watch. I would have to spend a little more time with Nanna before I could track Ashton down. But I would find her and get her to open up about the disappearing act. The last thing I needed was for Ashton to slip through my fingers again.

  Chapter 2

  Ashton

  When I arrived back to the hotel from Quinn’s house, I crawled in bed and pulled the covers over my head. Effectively blocking out sight and sound. But not emotions. Those roiled around in my stomach like psychotic tapeworms, squiggling to find a food source. I couldn’t believe that I let Quinn Andrews take advantage of me again. What a pathetic loser I’d become. Pining away for one man for ten years and then falling through his trapdoor of charm at the first sliver of an opening.

  I turned my cell phone back on and saw that I had several missed calls and text messages from Quinn. Of course, probably wondering when he could make his next booty call. Pervert. How many women did he need to sleep with at the same time? The last message he’d sent said that he wanted me to meet him at the office by two to go over the plans with Mr. Albertson.

  It was hard to get out of bed, but I finally managed it, dragging my leaden feet underneath my emotionally battered body. I took a hot shower, allowed the hot water and steam to chase some of the tension from my muscles. I dressed in a fresh suit – a dark navy one from BCBG that I’d purchased after saving discretionary funds for months. It made me feel professional. Competent. The kind of woman who didn’t get hoodwinked into a cheap lay. Underneath I wore a white silky blouse that was not-quite opaque. I pulled my hair into a messy bun, and did my makeup.

  Since it was already one-thirty, I needed to leave soon if I didn’t want to be late. I actually really liked Mr. Albertson and needed to close this deal so I could get back to Atlanta ASAP. To Henri. And my orderly, uncomplicated life that didn’t include charming lawyers with lush lips and indented abs. I would be professional and polite. After the meeting, I would pull Quinn aside in private and let him know that our relationship would go no farther. That he made me want to throw up my non-existent, freshly baked bagel from his bullshit bakery. From now, our exchanges would be strictly business.

  ***

  The reception area was empty but I knew Quinn was already somewhere in the building. After all, he worked here. I had parked right next to his Mercedes, barely avoiding putting my cheesy rental car keys to it. But that would be vindictive and the new and improved Ashton Jansen had just dragged herself from her lonely bed. No retribution today.
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br />   Voices came from down the hall and I followed them to the familiar conference room where we’d had our first meeting. I strode into the room with as much confidence as I could muster, playing up my power suit and haughty ‘don’t fuck with me’ air.

  I saw Quinn’s face first when I rounded the corner. A pain of regret knifed through my heart because gazing upon his handsome visage still gave me that same shot of dopamine, even though I wanted to slap his smug face. My conflicting emotions battled back and forth. Anger won. Seething, white-hot rage.

  I realized how good he could make me feel. And that sucked because the body was a weak master, easily reduced to a quivering mass of mistakes. On one hand, I still remembered the pleasure coursing through the traitorous, fleshy missile – like I was the sexiest woman alive. And for God’s sake, the man knew how to play me like a weeping violin. On the other hand, I wanted to smack that smile off his face until his face turned bright read with my palm print.

  Thankfully, Mr. Albertson already sat beside Quinn, shuffling papers around as he awaited my presence and the plans that I held in my hands. So Quinn was granted a momentary stay of emotional execution.

  I put on my game face, smiled at both of them, and then took my seat at the head of the table.

  “Nice to see you again, Ashton” Mr. Albertson commented as I sat down and snapped my leather briefcase open. “I apologize for missing our dinner last night. Quinn said you had a lovely time.”

  I took the plans out of my briefcase and spread them across the vast mahogany table. “The dinner was a very nice gesture. Thank you so much for your generosity. The food was not only delicious but the view spectacular.”

  “I’ve got fresh coffee if anyone needs it,” a voice interrupted our meeting.

  I spun in my chair to see the same perky blonde that had shown up at Quinn’s house earlier this morning. Dumbfounded, I watched as she placed a tray of coffee and snacks on the credenza situated in the corner of the room. His assistant? Banging his personal employee? I narrowed my eyes in disgust.

  Quinn jumped up to help her and I couldn’t help to notice how he rushed to her aid like some kind of discombobulated white knight. “Um, Ashton, this is Cassie. She works as a closing assistant with us.”

  Cassie smiled brightly at Quinn, and then me. “Oh, we’ve already met,” she chirped merrily.

  I slowly nodded my head, trying to get force words…any words…to come out of my mouth. “We’ve met.”

  Quinn’s mouth gaped open as he looked back and forth between us. The pregnant pause caused Albertson to glance up from his papers.

  “Ashton was at the house this morning when I dropped off the breakfast for your grandmother,” she added, albeit oblivious of the tense awkwardness mounting in the room

  A quick look at Mr. Albertson, wearing a thinly veiled grin, confirmed his blatant amusement as the events unfolded. Cassie had just outed me as a whore with her ‘innocent’ comments about our meeting. He was probably wondering what I was doing at Quinn’s house so early in the morning. No. He wasn’t that old.

  Quinn’s eyes widened as if an electrician had clicked on the light bulb over his thick head. “Cassie lives down the street from us. She occasionally drops by to check on my grandmother,” he quickly explained. Really? That’s the line of bullshit he was going to lay down?

  “Coffee?” the eternally perky blonde asked me, eyes sparkling with mirth as she held out a steaming cup.

  I reached out, took it from her and sipped, welcoming the burn as the hot liquid scalded my tongue. It was nothing to the heat in my chest. I wondered if it would be rude to ask if they had a shot of Kahlua or Bailey’s Irish Crème. Or straight Vodka.

  After handing me the java, Cassie leaned in and whispered, “You certainly pulled yourself together nicely.” The bitch even had the audacity to slide me a saucy wink. The nerve.

  I couldn’t tell if she was actively sabotaging me or she was really just that perky and…dumb. I resisted the urge to steal a glance at Quinn and Mr. Albertson. Had they heard her little comment? I certainly didn’t want to muddy the waters or appear unprofessional. Would Mr. Albertson call off the deal if he knew that I had slept with his attorney? I never considered the consequences of sleeping with the counsel to Mr. Albertson.

  But I should have. Should have remembered that my career had always been my number one priority. Because it didn’t screw me and toss me away like yesterday’s trash.

  Holy shit. My stomach churned and twisted as I took another swig of the bitter coffee. We shouldn’t have slept together last night. If Henri found out, my rash actions could tank the entire deal. And my promotion. My life. He hadn’t sent me down to Destin on the corporate expense account to slide into my ‘fuck me’ heels and take it literally. I was sent here to get a multi-million dollar deal to close without a hitch. Not screw the brains out of the attorney who represented the seller.

  It was too late now to go back for a redo. I had to shut up and suck it up. Smile my prettiest grin and see this thing through. Hopefully, Mr. Albertson would approve of our plans and I could be on my merry way back to Atlanta with a signed contract in hand on tonight’s red-eye. So much for an extra day to enjoy the ocean. Every time I looked at it now, the blue waters would be laced with my regret. Months later we could break ground for a new hotel and I would get a nice promotion and hopefully a big raise and bonus to go along with it. Money and accolades to help ease the pain.

  I kept my eyes on the blueprints and sketches as I showed Mr. Albertson what we had planned for the Flamingo Hotel. It was hard to curtail the excitement that infiltrated my speech. The plans were stellar. “As you can see, we will have a beautiful five-story modern hotel with two hundred thirty-one guest suites. The first floor is dedicated to the guest reception area and lobby, private offices, a gift shop, and a five-star luxury spa. All the guest suites will be located on floors two through five. The infinity pool will be located on the roof. We will also have a small Polynesian-style bar and steakhouse. Five stars with a famous chef. At the elevated height, guests will be able to see all of the beach from the fifth floor.”

  “Very swanky,” Mr. Albertson commented and pursed his lips into a fish face. Kind of like Quinn’s grouper. What wasn’t to like about Henri’s blueprint. My boss was one of the best real estate developers east of the Mississippi. Companies lined up to do business with him.

  Flipping to the next page, I showed him the plans for the restaurant. “It will be a first-class steakhouse with a five-hundred-square-foot humidor and cigar lounge attached. Also, a built-in wine cellar that will hold over three thousand bottles of vintage wine. Wine that won’t be available anywhere else. Some bottles from private collections.”

  Mr. Albertson peered over the top of his glasses. “Where’s the proposed shopping mall?”

  I stood up and moved closer to Quinn so I could access the plans with more ease. “With the vacant land we are also acquiring, the open air boutique shopping center would be here,” I pointed to the print. “We don’t have the finalized plans yet, but as soon as the architect is done I can send them to you.”

  “We would prefer to see the plans before signing the deal,” Quinn stated. Why did he have to make my life so damn difficult? In every way possible?

  Shithead. Was he really trying to talk Mr. Albertson out of the deal? Or, was this a stalling tactic so he could try to explain away his stripperesque assistant fuck buddy? I wanted to pull my hair out. Why would Quinn ask that at this stage in the game? If he had a problem with the plans, he should’ve told me last night. I’d have called Henri right away and had the plans faxed over. Henri could have had the entire office stay until midnight if that’s what it took to close this deal today.

  “I have the preliminary plans,” I said, giving him another sheet of paper to look at. “But until the deal is done we won’t have the full plans ready. It takes weeks to complete a full rendering by our in-house architects. Surely, you’ve done enough deals of this magnitude to know
that.”

  I flung my last comment in the general vicinity of Quinn’s thick skull. My firm wasn’t going to waste money having our brilliant architects working non-stop to draw up detailed plans for something we may never purchase. Mr. Albertson knew it. Quinn knew it. What kind of ridiculous toddler tantrum was he throwing? Stall much?

  “Is there any concern about trading the lots?” I asked. “Yesterday, I was led to believe that these plans were all that was needed to move forward. Our deal is generous. The gulf-front lot we are willing to trade has significantly more value than the lot we’re purchasing.”

  “It’s not about the money,” Mr. Albertson said.

  “That lot has been in our family for generations,” Cassie said. What in the hell was she still doing here? Then, the magnitude of what she’d just said hit me in the solar plexus. Things were starting to fall into place. My ears perked up.

  “Cassie is Mr. Albertson’s daughter,” Quinn clarified upon noticing my confusion.

  Well, that explained everything. Quinn was screwing around with the boss’s daughter.

  For money? A promotion? The whole damn enchilada when Albertson laid down to take the dirt nap?

  Cassie gave Quinn a warm smile. “We just hate to see the lot being used for some tacky souvenir shop.”

  My Stanford educated blood pressure spiked. I clenched my fists and concentrated on taking slow deep breaths. I was not going to let some two-bit, trust fund whore ruin my deal. It seemed that Quinn and Cassie were doing a good negotiator/bad negotiator routine with me now. It was ridiculous. Even worse, the fact that he obviously thought so little of me that he could pull the corporate wool over my eyes without issue. He had another thing coming because this wasn’t my first rodeo.

  For the first time, I wondered if I even liked my job well enough to put up with this bullshit. Quinn had fucked me in more ways than one.

  “I would prefer to deal exclusively with Ashton, if you don’t mind,” Mr. Albertson said in their direction. The look on Cassie’s face was priceless. A combination of consternation spiked with astonishment. Probably the first time she’d ever been dismissed by Daddy Warbucks.