by Shara Azod
Swallowing back her yearning, she sighed.
“Miss Reese?” he called making her shudder.
Damn.
Chapter 3: Candied Fruits
“Yes?” Chloe looked absolutely thunderstruck when she turned around to face him. Even her elf brooch seemed to be smiling at him.
He’d had that reaction from women before, and he began to relax. Sort of. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. That wasn’t a good sign. With her gaze averted, she adjusted the straps of her satchel and let out a sigh. Her foot tapped out the passing seconds.
Kevin’s damp palms had to be wiped on his slacks--again. Why did it feel like a snake had coiled itself tightly in his stomach? He’d asked women out before. This should be a piece of cake, so why did he feel like he needed to throw up?
He explained away the inner voice he was hearing because he was nervous. Scoffing at the idea, he adjusted his tie. Nervous? He had more female numbers in his cell phone than Lil Wayne. Besides, Chloe was just another single female who probably didn’t want to be alone during the holidays. What woman wouldn’t want a rich, single, child-free, and handsome man? Chloe should count herself lucky.
Right.
He could do this.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?” The words spilled out of his mouth like the waters of Niagara Falls. He fought down the hard knot of emotion in his throat.
What the hell was going on?
She seemed to take forever to answer. Normally, women leaped at the chance to be spoiled for an evening. Chloe bit her lower lip and kept her gaze at something behind him.
“You seem very nice, Kevin…”
His stomach rolled over. He heard a but coming, and he didn’t like it.
“…but I don’t date men…”
Kevin relaxed. The rejection made him hurt, but if she preferred women to men, then it lessened—a little.
“Oh, you’re a lesbian. I get it,” he interrupted and nodded.
“Um, no…”
Kevin’s eyebrow knitted together in concern. If she didn’t date men or women, Chloe had really confused him. His usual orientation meter must be busted. Doubt crept over his confidence and it made him sick to his stomach.
“I date men. Just not men like you.”
It was if she’d slapped him. A ringing started in his ears, and he couldn’t quite understand her words. His knees threatened to turn to jelly. His vision blurred.
Blinking, he saw Chloe exit without another word to him. She almost broke out into a run.
She turned him down. A surreal feeling settled around him. Why did it sting so badly?
“Wait!” He followed her into the hallway. “What do you mean, you don’t date men like me? What? White men? Redheads?”
Chloe’s shoulders had hunched up as if his questions assaulted her. And here he had been angered by Brooke upsetting her and stating all that thinly-veiled racist crap. But Chloe wouldn’t date him because he was white? No, that didn’t make sense. His hair color? Nope, even sillier. She struck him as super-intelligent and very savvy—he wouldn’t play chess with her. Not after witnessing how she handled Brooke. So what gives? He’d never had a woman tell him no. Not since third grade.
“I have to know. You owe me. I did save your case today.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
Chloe stopped and spun around on those conservative black pumps. She arched a brow at that. “First of all, you didn’t save my case. You helped. Secondly, I don’t owe you anything except a sexual harassment indictment.”
Kevin swallowed, but not out of fear. Out of how incredibly sexy Chloe had just become. She had been rock-solid attractive before, but when angered, her face warmed, her eyes wide, her breathing heavy, he could picture her, straddling him, taking him deep inside her and wearing that very expression. She roused something feral inside him.
But on the other hand, she had a point.
“You’re right.” It surprised him that he meant it, even more that he confessed it to her. He searched her face, trying to figure out what she saw in him that made her not want to spend a meal with him. Not even a few hours of good food and better wine.
“The holidays are often the loneliest time of the year. Will you please just tell me so I can sleep tonight?” The exasperation in his voice shocked, and then disgusted him. He stepped back and tried to recapture his usual cool demeanor. Kevin O’Bryan begging a woman. Pleading with one. Uh, no.
But he was.
He shook his head and inclined it to her, watching and waiting for her to answer him.
She blinked as if surprised that he’d agreed. “Look. You’re right. It is close to Christmas and I’m in a giving mood.”
“Yeah?” Perhaps he hadn’t made a mess of this after all.
She leaned in close to him, her eyes trained on his. The soft scent of her perfume—expensive from what he could gather—swirled around him. Damn, the woman was intoxicating fully dressed.
With a seductive smile, she whispered. “I don’t date womanizers.”
He blinked, and she headed down the stairs with a speed he didn’t know she possessed. It reminded him of a gazelle who had just narrowly escaped a predator.
He wondered if Chloe saw him as that—a predator—and had scampered off thinking, I’m free! I’m free!
That sobering thought made him feel even worse. He shook his head in disbelief. Something made her turn him down. Rejected his offer for dinner.
With his brain humming, he set off back to his desk. What had gone wrong? She said she didn’t date womanizers, but how did she know he was one? They’d just met. His name made The News and Record, but not like Stephen’s. So, what made her justify labeling him as a womanizer? And she seemed so sure of it, too.
Kevin O’Bryan, a womanizer? He scowled at the thought. No, he didn’t use women. He loved women. When he passed the top of the staircase, Stephen had just reached the last stair. He looked exhausted, but happy.
Smiling, he caught Kevin’s glance. He searched Kevin’s face and asked, “Still worried about that car?”
Kevin shook his head. He hadn’t thought about his car. Chloe had successfully ended that worry. His throat tightened. How could he share this with Stephen?
Right. He couldn’t.
“No.”
“What’s eating you?” Stephen walked beside him.
“Nothing.”
Stephen put out a restraining hand, stopping Kevin just as they reached their corner of the upper floor.
“Kev, seriously, go home. Rest. Do whatever it is you need before…”
Kevin waved him off. “Yeah, I get it. I’m fine.”
Stephen’s brow wrinkled and he dropped his arm. “Whoa. What the hell? I was going to say before you come back in here.”
Kevin walked behind his desk and slunk down in his chair. Womanizer? It gnawed on him. “Sorry.”
Stephen leaned down, placing both hands on Kevin’s desk, causing the wooden IN box to skid to the right. “Whose ass do I need to sue—or fire—for making you angry?”
Kevin set his tablet on the desk. He rubbed his face. Only two choices—own up to the fact that he struck out with Chloe, or remain silent. Stephen had his back for damn near twenty years. With a huff, he met his friend’s worried face.
“Chloe…”
Stephen stepped away from his desk like Kevin had a bomb in his palm. Shaking his head, he explained, “Oh, well, that’s a different situation. Chloe Reese.”
Kevin frowned. “Uh, it’s no big deal…”
His boss studied him, stroking his clean-shaven chin. Wordlessly, he unlocked his office door.
“No problem. I didn’t want you to fire her. It’s just, I asked her out…”
Stephen stiffened, and turned slowly to look at Kevin. “You asked Chloe Reese out on a date? Chloe? Daughter of Gordon Randall Reese? If it had been anyone else…”
Kevin stared at Stephen’s surprised face. “Why? She’s a fine woman.”
The laughter spew
ing from Stephen only added more salt to Kevin’s wounded ego.
“She is a very good woman,” Stephen conceded, wiping his eyes.
Kevin rolled his eyes. “So what gives?”
Stephen chuckled and shook his head. “Either you are very foolish or very brave.”
Without another word, Stephen vanished into his office, snickering like he did in fifth grade.
“Thanks for that,” Kevin muttered as he swore beneath his breath.
Kevin booted up his laptop, launched his internet browser, and quickly searched for information about Gordon Reese. The name sounded familiar, but Kevin didn’t involve himself in Triad politics the way Stephen did. Sure, he operated as Stephen’s administrative assistant, but Kevin made a salary near that of most executives.
Not that many people knew it, but Kevin actually had been primed to be Stephen’s vice president. Initially, when Stephen began the company, Kevin’s role had been that of an assistant, but over the years, he’d been privy to more of the business end of CAKE and its growth. Stephen wanted to take the company public in the near future, and that meant having an executive board and a vice-president.
Chloe’s father, Gordon Randall Reese, served as a Guilford County councilman. Moreover, he had been a civil rights activist and served on several boards around the Piedmont Triad area’s colleges and businesses. Kevin couldn’t understand Stephen’s concern. Nothing he found painted Chloe’s father as anything but a tireless advocate for equality and justice.
Until he reached page seven of the web search results. The more he read, the more concerned he became. Nearly a decade ago, Gordon Reese had been snared in scandal. It involved a string of women—mostly high-profile—and some serious adultery. Webpage after webpage cited mostly the same story: Councilman Gordon Reese--Womanizer.
No wonder Chloe had fled. Kevin stared at the photo of Gordon Reese pushing through a throng of reporters. Right beside him, Chloe marched, with head bowed, big sunglasses on, and her face set to pissed. She’d supported him publicly, but she certainly didn’t agree with her father’s antics if her outright rejection of Kevin was any indication.
Still, how and why did she think he was a womanizer, anyway?
That bugged him. As he set about packing up his belongings, he wondered what he’d done to give that impression. He’d been so discombobulated by her rejection, he hadn’t finished most of his work today. He’d have to take it home.
Stephen slipped out of his office, cell phone attached to his ear.
“…Yes, I love you too. You know that. Black lace? For lunch? Yes, I can be home in twenty…love you, too. Bye.”
Stephen grinned when he looked at Kevin. “I’m going home early for lunch. My schedule is clear, but handle whatever comes up unless it really demands my attention.”
Kevin nodded and watched his boss break out into a trot to the staircase. A wife at home, waiting for him to bring her a special kind of meal—no wonder Stephen hurried.
No one waited for Kevin at his high-rise condo in downtown Greensboro. Up until last night, he’d enjoyed his alone time, his bachelor pad. After Victoria, he’d told himself that he could never settle down with any one woman, because he wanted his cake, and he wanted to eat it, too. And if he were completely honest with himself—Victoria was a fruitcake full of nuts.
Women were like cake—fluffy, sweet, moist, and delicious. Cakes smelled nice, too. He thought about Chloe. Again, he felt all hot and prickly. He didn’t have any cake right now.
Most of the time, this didn’t bother him. Maybe it was the quiet, with Stephen gone, or the hushed blowing of the heating system that made him so reflective.
Or holidays. He meant what he told Chloe. Holidays were really lonely.
He couldn’t refute the evidence: first, his car; second, Angel refusing to talk to him; and now Chloe’s rebuke. Was he beginning to lose his touch?
Sure, fruitcakes, the lot of them. Some of those holiday cakes were soaked in alcohol, and Kevin wondered if some of the women he’d dated were, too.
Still, Chloe’s rebuff had hurt him, and not just his ego.
He watched Stephen, grinning from ear to ear as he moved quickly down the stairs. His best friend had never been so enthralled, so happy, in his entire life.
Could one woman do that?
Kevin sighed and pushed the question aside. His stomach rumbled.
“It is lunch time!” He pushed back his seat, stood, and stretched. Resolved to not think about Chloe, he grabbed his coat, his wallet, and followed Stephen’s exit down the stairs.
Christmas décor seemed to have vomited all over downtown. He didn’t want to pull his car out of the garage, so he walked. Besides, the cold weather would cool off his hot thoughts about Chloe—the ones he fought so hard to banish.
Chapter 4: Spirits
Outside in a downtown parking lot, seated in the heated leather seats of her silver luxury SUV, Chloe snatched in deep, measured breaths. Her eyes burned, but she couldn’t close them. Each time she tried, flashes of Kevin O’Bryan appeared.
He seduced her from memories, from afar. His infectious smile; silky, vibrant hair that begged to be touched, and raked by her fingernails, all howled for her to indulge. She clearly recalled his lithe, athletic build draped over his six foot frame, a man who could comfortably cradle her own five foot four inches. Her digits twitched around the steering wheel as if confirming her yearning. A frustrated sound erupted from her and she thumped against the driver’s seat in frustration.
She’d called him a womanizer. Not that she had any proof of that beyond her gut instincts. Her stomach growled, but Chloe couldn’t be sure if it wanted food or Kevin. He infected her psyche. She pondered if he chased every skirt that swished by him.
People walking by gave her strange looks, so she got out of the vehicle with her temples throbbing. Skipping breakfast had been completely foolhardy. The aromas of fresh bread wafted from the Panera restaurant, and her belly begged to be filled. She climbed out and crossed the parking lot. She’d parked in the timed lot and walked to the Panera. Once she entered the warm and fresh-baked scent place, she relaxed.
I definitely want food.
“Oh, hello, Chloe.”
No. Way.
A small smile of disbelief quirked her mouth. Her stomach plummeted south. The exquisitely formed Kevin held the door to the Panera for her. He jerked his chin at the lobby.
“You’re not going to leave, because I plan to eat here?”
“Excuse me?” She squinted. Did he just accuse her of being afraid?
“You know. The thought of eating with a womanizer may frighten you.” He shrugged, and then shot her a smile.
She snorted. “I’m not scared to eat…”
“No? You sure? You did turn me down for dinner with me for that reason.” He held up his hands. “Your words.”
She eyed him, her cheeks warming. Had he followed her here just to pull this little stunt?
“I’m not eating with you.” She hitched her chin higher and turned to the counter.
“Fear can cause you to miss out.” With those words and a smug grin, Kevin went to the other counter to order.
An hour before lunch, small pockets of people populated the restaurant rather than the regular bustling lunch crowd. She spied Kevin perusing the baked goods. On the other side of the glass, a blonde clerk giggled and blushed in front of him. He spoke to her in low tones that caused the woman to giggle louder. She twisted around in her uniform and winked at him.
Rolling her eyes, Chloe went into the lunch line. She tried to ignore the clerk’s sing-song voice as she asked Kevin if he wanted her to take his order. Losing herself in the massive amount of edible choices, Chloe tried to figure out what she wanted to eat. She wanted to keep it light, because Christmas at her momma’s meant enough food to feed a small county in North Carolina.
Ahead of her, two elderly people also struggled with the number of choices. She tried to block out the clerk’s rising giggl
es and her own irritation. It didn’t matter if Kevin asked the woman out. The clerk looked old enough, but it annoyed her all the same.
Why do I care?
She mentally squashed the line of thought before the answer came. Kevin acted like every other male in heat. Fear didn’t keep her from going out with him. Nothing wrong at all with a little caution. Seriously, his arrogance knew no bounds.
“You could be truly living,” Kevin whispered, so close to her his breath brushed her spine. Warmth trickled down her neck, raising chills.
Chloe paused. That was an unexpected answer. Perhaps more existed beneath his gorgeous visage—a depth that should be explored.
“Your order, ma’am,” the cashier demanded.
Chloe ordered her usual, with her heart beating fast at the thought of Kevin overhearing her salad choice. Silly, she knew, but his closeness made her self-consciousness.
But when she moved to fill her empty cup with sweet tea at the fountain drinks station, she found Kevin had disappeared. Partly relieved and partly disappointed, she collected her salad and made her way to her favorite booth. She ate at the same table when she came to C.A.K.E. Most of the time she ate lunch at her desk.
She rebuked her growing interest in him. After she reached her usual secluded booth and claimed her food, she started to shift her attention to work. Digging in her satchel, she took out her tablet and searched for the wireless network. Once online, she opened her email box and began scanning through the messages for something urgent.
Today had been great, so why did she feel hollow inside? Even the food tasted bland. It seemed like this curious fascination with Kevin had taken all pleasure from life. She sipped her sweet tea and clicked open an email from Bianca. Nearly 11:00 in the morning, Panera remained blanketed in hushed voices. Only the blaring of names called over the loud speaker interrupted the tranquil scene.
“Is this seat taken?”
That voice again.
She knew it would not be able to fade from her memory; somehow it imprinted itself on her. She slowly raised her eyes to Kevin’s emerald bright ones. Breathtaking, he gave her that heart-warming smile, the one that made her blush all the way to her toes.