Caylee's Confessions (Caylee's Confessions Series)

by Candice Burnett

  I parked my car in the parking garage and dragged my heavy, guilty feet in. The first person I saw was Lori—of course. Freaking Lori Otar—or, as I liked to call her, the office skank-face. I liked to call her that, because I’d heard—and witnessed events of—how she would achieve her client-base. She also liked to constantly have her face up my boss’s ass.

  “Nice to see you, Caylee. You look so healthy,” said Lori. God, she was such a bitch. “You’re lucky you got over it so fast. My cousin had the swine flu and it took her a month to get over it, and she had to be hospitalized!” she said.

  “Yeah, my doctor said it was just a minor case and I’m no longer contagious, so I get to come back to work,” I said with a fake smile, wanting her to go away.

  “Well, aren’t you so lucky?” She sneered and turned away from me, heading to her desk—to probably Google information about the swine flu. Lucky? Ha, that was a joke. The only luck today was the fact that she wasn’t a vampire, for I would have staked her on the spot. I would love it if I was given this opportunity, because I couldn’t stake her for being annoying—that just couldn’t be justified—so she was definitely the lucky one.

  I took a deep breath and successfully brushed off anyone else’s attempts to speak with me, before I made it to Gene’s office.

  “Hey, boss,” I said with a smile as I walked into his office. He looked up with bright eyes, recognizing my voice. It caught me off-guard. I’d always liked going into his office. Like the rest of the building, it was full of bright colors that were said to ‘stimulate the mind.’ He also had tons of pictures of his family everywhere. They weren’t awkward family photos either. They had captured real smiles that told you how much they cared for one another.

  “It’s my main lady, Caylee. How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Much better, thanks. I brought this in if you need it for your records.” I casually took two steps towards his desk and set down my phony doctor’s note.

  “Oh, thanks,” he said, putting it to the side. “I’m just happy you’re feeling better, because I have some exciting news!” He was way too happy for a boss whose employee had just missed a huge week. I wondered what was up.

  “You see, you’ve missed quite an eventful week. The Maplewood Mall signed with us and Lori got two new potentials. This week has just been great for everyone. Even Evan managed to get two sponsorships from our smaller clients. It’s like nothing could go wrong this week!” I’m glad they had such a good week, because I’d almost died, so I guess good luck had to go somewhere. He still hadn’t said anything about the huge Caloman Corp project we had going last week. Maybe he was giving me the good news first.

  “That’s good,” I said, still waiting for the rest of the news.

  “Well, I hope this doesn’t upset you, since you worked so hard on the Caloman project before you got sick, but…well…you see, it was basically done, and I went ahead on a whim and sent the intern over to Caloman Corp to propose the idea. It was such a huge account, as you know. We looked over everything you had done and it looked great. So I sent it over with the intern, because she had worked the closest with you on the project, and…well, Caylee, I know you wanted to present the information, but last week was the deadline that they required for it. Well, enough with my ramblings.” He took a deep breath. “They loved it, Caylee. They signed with us!” He was the happiest I’d ever seen him, which was probably why he didn’t even look at my doctor’s note. What did he care if it was legit? He would make at least a million dollars on this proposal since they’d signed. “They want to start it next week, and they want you there, working on it, as soon as possible. The CEO of the corporation actually wants to meet with you about it tonight—if you’re available, that is,” he said with a look that screamed: ‘You better be open tonight, because this company needs the money.’

  “Of course. But I’m slightly confused as to why they want to meet with me. Don’t you usually handle it from here? I mean, I’m not refusing; it just seems to be your area of specialty. We write the proposals and sponsorship plans, and you execute them,” I said, hoping he would go, as I really needed to get back to focusing more on hunting. I’d been out of the hunt for a week and needed to get back, so those dumb vitans would leave my city.

  “Usually, I would love to, but they specifically asked for the person who created the idea,” he said. I found it odd, but whatever—I would do it. I did feel that I owed them, since I’d missed the week. I’d just hunt double-time tomorrow.

  *****

  I arrived at Almelo’s just as the sun was setting. It was 7:45 and the meeting was at 8:00, so I opened the heavy, gold-plated door. This place was fancier than I had expected. The host, and most people around me, were in formal dress-wear. I was in my business suit that had cost me a pretty penny, but I still felt underdressed. My boss had told me it was a nice place, but this was like one of those places where people proposed in cheesy movies, where the boyfriend would drop the ring in the champagne and the girlfriend would cry. I walked up to the hostess stand.

  “Hello, I’m here for a business meeting with a client named Braxton Caloman,” I told the host.

  “Oh certainly,” he said quite femininely as he looked me up and down, but only because he was clearly disgusted in what I was wearing, not because he was interested. “Follow me. Mr. Caloman is waiting your attendance at booth sixty-six. If you’ll just wait a moment, I’ll take you to your seat.” He grabbed a menu and motioned for me to follow him. The place was beautiful, and now that I had gotten a full view of the restaurant, I definitely felt out of place. It had low, dim lighting with a beautiful, white lily candlelit centerpiece at each table. The booths had either a light-yellow or cream colored tablecloth. I almost ran into the host as I was admiring the place, but looked up just in time to see him stop a foot in front of me. He moved to let me pass him to take my seat. I stood, shocked for a minute as I looked down at Mr. Caloman.

  My eyes started to rapidly blink as if they didn’t really believe this was my client. I watched as the man sitting in the booth got up, like a southern gentleman, when he saw I had arrived. My eyes wandered up as he rose. He had to be at least six-foot-seven. It was rare that I had to really look up to see a man’s face, but his was something I wouldn’t mind getting a neck-ache over. He had an angelic face with a slight edge that made me feel as if he were powerful. He had prominent cheekbones and full lips with gleaming white, perfectly straight teeth. His black hair was short—if I had to guess, an inch-and-a-half long—and in that messy but adorable style that most men seemed to be wearing now.

  Below his hair were a pair of light, grey-colored eyes that were beautiful but seemed to be the only non-exceptional thing about him. Don’t get me wrong, they were eyes I was definitely lost in, but they seemed to be out of place. A lot of people were doing this now with colored contacts. I wondered what color his eyes really were. Usually a person’s complexion gave this away. His was a pale, olive color, like an Italian who didn’t tan. It was a breathtaking—but different—color I’d only seen on… My eyes raced to the bracelet that never left my wrist. I let out a sigh of relief that it was just plain, old black.

  “Hello, Ms. Raupp. I’m so happy to meet you,” he said with a deep, soothing, strong tone.

  “Same to you, Mr. Caloman,” I said, and we took our seats on opposite sides of the booth. I always hated the beginning of a meeting as they were always so awkward, and being at a place that was clearly for couples, made it more awkward.

  “Have you been here before?” he asked, probably sensing my awkwardness.

  “No, but I’ve heard good things,” I replied with a fake smile. I hated small-talk.

  “Yeah, a bit too fancy, if you ask me, but the board insists on it. I guess it helps portray the image.” He lifted his hands and made quotation marks with his fingers when he said ‘image.’ The host then arrived with some water.

  “Will you be having cocktails this evening?” the host asked. I really hope
d so. I knew I could only get one if he did, because that’s how these meetings went.

  “Yes, double Ciroc in a short glass with a splash of cran, please,” Mr. Caloman replied.

  “And for the lady?” the Host asked.

  “I’ll take a berry vodka and water, short, with a twist of lemon, please.” And the host walked away.

  “Vodka and water?” Mr. Caloman asked.

  “It’s surprisingly delicious,” I replied. “Tastes like drinking flavored water, but you get the extra kick without all the calories.”

  “That sounds like a slogan,” Mr. Caloman replied with a laugh.

  “It is what I do.” I laughed along. The host brought back our drinks quickly.

  “Do you still need a minute to decide?” the host asked.

  “Just drinks for me,” Mr. Caloman said. “Are you hungry, Ms. Raupp?”

  “No,” I replied, “just drinks for me as well.”

  “As you wish,” the host said, and walked away.

  “I wanted to tell you that I was glad to hear that you got over your illness. Your boss had told us you were sick,” he said.

  “Yes, and thanks,” I said, unsure of what else to say.

  “Your idea was wonderful. They didn’t need to send your intern, even though she was delightful, because I would have said ‘yes’ just to the written proposal.” He smiled.

  “Well, thank you. I’m glad your company even considered taking a look at my firm’s proposal. I have to admit, I was shocked at first that your company was taking an interest in our small firm,” I told him honestly. This was the first major company account that we had snagged.

  “Yes, well, I’m a true believer that if you don’t look at all your options, big or small, then you’ll truly miss a great opportunity. Or, in this case, an idea. I was rooting for your company from the start because, I have to say, I like when the underdog overcomes, in most situations,” he said as his smile widened.

  “Well, thanks again, and I felt my cheeks blush. They always did at compliments—was a fault of being a redhead, I guess.

  “You’re welcome, and really, it’s my pleasure. But I think I’ve wasted enough breath on work,” he said, and I began to wonder: Wasn’t this what I was here for? It almost leaked out of my mouth. “I’m bored of it already. See, I’m a believer of really knowing your business associates, so let’s just relax.” And his smile was sending me the message that he wanted to do anything but relax. Maybe my boss should have sent Lori here. She would have loved to ‘get to know him.’ Surely, he hadn’t meant it that way though, I reasoned. I’d had clients do this before, where they just genuinely wanted to know who they were working with, because, with all the scams going around these days, they wanted to create a business relationship that had trust, and actually mattered.

  “How long have you been with the company?” he asked.

  “It’s been almost a year,” I replied.

  “A year in and you’re already on proposals for large corporations?” His eyebrows rose with the question.

  “Well, the company itself is only about five years old. It started with only five agents and now there are twenty-three, so everyone is relatively new at the firm,” I told him.

  “They must have an eye for catching good talent, since it has grown so successfully in just five years.”

  “Yes, I would agree with that. Mr. Shelton’s very talented himself, and I find that, since our company is relatively new, we have brought fresh and new ideas,” I said confidently. This was one of the major obstacles that the firm had when getting companies to sign with us: they liked our ideas, but didn’t like that our company was so new.

  “That makes sense,” he agreed. “So, Ms.…well, actually, do you mind if I call you Caylee? It’s so much easier than saying Ms. Raupp every time.” And he again threw me that smile that wouldn’t have allowed me to say ‘no’ if I had wanted to.

  “Of course. I like Caylee better anyway, Mr. Caloman.”

  “Braxton—just Braxton. It would only be fair, since I’ll be calling you by your first name. So now, since we’re on a first name basis, Caylee…what do you like to do when you’re not working?” he asked as I picked up my glass and took a large gulp. Hm…I slay vampires, werewolves, and the occasional shape shifter.

  “I like to work-out, read, and occasionally hang out with friends for a drink or the movies.” Lies, lies, lies. He smirked, like he knew.

  “Friends…that must be nice. I find that my extracurricular activities make it difficult for friends.” He paused, rethinking. “Largely because my only extracurricular activity is work that I don’t finish at the office.” He frowned. “I don’t know how you find the time. I’m jealous.” It was almost as if he was referring to something else. “Well, I don’t want to keep you.” He paused. “This meeting was meant for work, but I’m just extremely worn-out from talking and doing any more work. I’m glad we are working with your company, and I feel we have truly made the right decision,” he said, shifting in his seat, like he was getting ready to get up. “I’ll let you get on now. I’m sure you have other plans to attend to tonight.” I didn’t, because I’d actually thought this was going to go on a lot longer. Claire had marked me off for the night, but hey, I could catch up on some sleep.

  “Yeah, I told a friend I would meet her later if this ended early. Thank you so much, again, for taking a look at our company and giving us this opportunity,” I said as I stood up, and he did the same, while giving me a firm, parting handshake. His hands felt so strong but smooth, like velvet.

  “Let me walk you out,” he said as we headed for the front door.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Caylee,” he said as I began to wave for a taxi.

  “You too, Braxton,” I said, waving him goodbye to his now, almost puppy dog-looking face. The poor guy never got to do anything fun. I, at least, got to do something that gave me a thrill at night. But I couldn’t ask him to go out. That would be extremely unprofessional, and I had said I was meeting a friend, which was a lie. Braxton looked so much like he needed a night off from work, but what did I care? I asked myself.

  “Did you want to join my friend and me for a couple of drinks? You seem like you could use a night off from work,” slipped out of mouth, before I even thought about it. That was so unprofessional. What was I thinking, asking him that? Was I even thinking?

  “Sure,” he answered quickly. “But only if I’m not imposing,” he insisted with a smirk.

  “Yes, I’m sure. You won’t be imposing at all.” Mostly because there was no friend going. I didn’t have friends.

  He then hailed a taxi, and the deal was sealed when we both got in. Was I really going to have drinks with a client that wasn’t for a formal meeting? Was I really lowering to Lori’s standards? I pondered, but justified that he’d already signed my contract before I’d invited him out.

  I told the taxi to take us to this bar that was just down the street from my house. I’d been there a couple of times for dinner, and it was usually pretty occupied with people, so it wouldn’t be like a romantic date. We arrived at Chuckie’s and claimed two seats at the bar. Chuckie’s atmosphere was one that I thought was appropriate enough. It wasn’t one of those loud bars where you had to scream at whoever you were with just so they could hear you, while staring at the odd, miscellaneous Nascar décor on the walls. It wasn’t one of those classy, cigar and martini piano bars either. It fit perfectly in the middle of the two. Music hit your ears, but not at an extreme level, and they did have martinis and one Nascar sign.

  “Do you like to play trivia?” Braxton asked, ending the awkward silence we’d had since we ordered our drinks.

  “Sometimes.” I paused. “It depends on the game.”

  “Well, at the end of the bar they have one of those video ones that have all types of games on them. I’m sure we’ll be able to find one you’ll like.” He smiled and motioned me to follow him. We sat down in front of it and he began looking through the different
types of trivia games they had.

  “How about we make this interesting and the loser of each game does a shot?” he asked. Wow, it really must have been a while since he’d been out. But I loved to gamble.

  “Okay, but when you’re wasted, don’t go blaming it on me,” I joked.

  “Confident, are we? Well, then I’ll let you pick the first game,” he said, and it made me happy as I scanned the games, looking for one I knew I would be good at. I found ‘Photo Hunt.’ Photo Hunt was usually a hit for anyone I found, because all you had to do was look at two pictures that were supposed to be identical, and pick out what didn’t match. This seemed simple enough, and hell, it was part of my nighttime profession to see things that weren’t supposed to be there.

  “Photo Hunt,” I said confidently as I touched it on the screen.

  “Pick out what shot you want then.” He laughed. I started the game by going first, and found the first things that were out-of-place quickly, with only seconds going by. The last object took me a little longer, but I had, overall, found everything before I was on the red rushing time, so I was happy…until it was his turn, that is. He had all the things found in seriously five seconds. In this game though, you didn’t lose until you couldn’t find the things in each new picture, so I could still redeem myself.

  “Ready to surrender yet?” He smirked.

  “That was only the first round. We have many to go,” I said as the second round was beginning to start. One hour, six drinks, and thousands of points later, I finally lost, because he’d had a better time in every single round that we’d played.

  “Damn it,” I said aloud.

  “Told you. Now, pick your shot out. And I guess, since you lasted so long against me, I’ll do the shot with you.” He smiled.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I fake-complained. “Let’s do ‘Washington Apples’ then.”

  We ordered the two shots, threw them back, and continued on to the other trivia games. Like Photo Hunt, he beat me in every single game, besides ‘Gender Bender.’ I’d begun to wonder if he had lied about not being able to get out, because he was awesome at all of these games. But I didn’t really care, because he had me laughing and having fun the whole time. I was genuinely enjoying myself, when the bartender broke the mood.