Alexander Stone? I’ve never heard of him.
I was pretty sure it was the same Mr. Stone that I was introduced to. I clicked on the internet images to see if there were any pictures of him.
I sucked in a breath, my stomach instantly clenching into a knot. There he was, gazing at me through the screen. Even on a computer screen, those smoldering blue eyes could sear right through me, causing desire to burn hot in my belly.
Easy, girl. It’s just a computer image.
Reining in my wild thoughts, I changed the search to ALEXANDER STONE NYC. The number of articles that came up was staggering. I clicked on the first one.
“This afternoon, New York City’s beloved opera house announced that they would begin their long awaited renovation, a project that was made possible by the $4 million dollar donation from The Stoneworks Foundation. The opera has experienced extraordinary difficulties in recent years and is extremely thankful to Alexander Stone for his support.”
The article went on to talk about the financial difficulties that the opera had been struggling with, but I didn’t finish reading it. I clicked the back button to see what else I could find.
“The groundbreaking ceremony for a new women’s shelter in Queens took place on Monday, with Alexander Stone present to cut the ribbon. Mr. Stone, founder of The Stoneworks Foundation, has donated $1.2 million to building a shelter for battered women. The shelter should be near completion early next year.”
Interesting. So what’s wrong with him?
He was good-looking, rich, and involved in charitable causes. I found it hard to believe that any guy was that picture perfect. I clicked on the next article.
“Stone Enterprise strikes a $280 million dollar deal with the near-bankrupt Rushmore Industries to purchase one of the tallest residential buildings in New York. Soaring over 1,000 feet high, Stone Enterprise plans to remodel the neglected Rushmore building. It will eventually hold 92 luxury apartments and two penthouses. Wall Street says the purchase was steal and predicts that it will pay for itself in less than two years, as the penthouses alone will contract for at least $84 million each once they are completed. CEO, Alexander Stone made no comment when asked if he was going to rename the building.”
Two hundred eighty million! Wow – this guy isn’t just rich, he’s that rich!
I may have been fortunate enough to grow up comfortably, but even Frank didn’t bring in that kind of dough. Not even close. I moved the mouse to click on the next article. This one was a gossip column from the local entertainment magazine, dated two months earlier.
“Alexander Stone, one of New York’s most eligible bachelors, arrived at the Chamber of Commerce Ball with yet another red headed bombshell on his arm. Who knew that there were so many stunning red heads in New York City?”
Hmmm…yes. Who knew?
The article contained a picture of a drop dead gorgeous woman with flowing red locks, holding the arm Alexander Stone. She looked like she just stepped off the stage of America’s Top Model.
Enough of that.
I hit the back button again and came across another sleaze article. This one was a little more recent, dated only three weeks ago.
“Alexander Stone, the 32 year old real estate mogul, refused to answer questions regarding his relationship with Miss Suzanne Jacobs. The couple has been seen together at three separate charity engagements, causing the rumor mills to fly. Anyone who follows our column knows that Mr. Stone is never seen with the same woman twice. Could she be the one to finally capture his heart of stone? Miss Jacobs was unavailable to answer our questions.”
Never the same woman twice? Bingo – that’s what’s wrong with him.
All men were exactly the same. Alexander Stone was just another stereotypical millionaire playboy.
Good luck with that one, Miss Jacobs.
I gave into a big yawn and stretched my back. The hour was nearing midnight, and I had to work the next day. It was my turn to work the mid-shift, so at least I got to sleep in a bit. I closed the laptop and headed back to my room.
I wearily climbed into bed, pulled the blankets up and tucked them beneath my chin. I fell asleep within five minutes of my head hitting the pillow, putting all thoughts of those powerful blue eyes to rest.
CHAPTER 3
When I arrived at Wally’s for my shift the next morning, Jim was waiting for me by my locker in the break room. He didn’t say anything to me a first, but he looked like he was steaming over something. He stepped aside so that I could open my locker and deposit my things inside. Pretending to be preoccupied, I ignored the indignant look that he threw at me and glanced down at the broken screen of my cell phone. I made a mental note to stop by the cell phone store tomorrow morning to see about getting it replaced.
“Are you even going to say hello?” Jim eventually spat out.
Yep, he is definitely pissed off.
“Um…hi, Jim.”
I didn’t know what else I could say. I wanted to avoid engaging in a conversation that would inevitably lead to one thing, and I didn’t have the energy to deal with Jim’s advances today. I was tired and irritable from a restless night. Dreams of Alexander Stone’s blue eyes haunted me all night, making it impossible for me to concentrate on much else this morning.
“Your bruise looks pretty nasty,” Jim informed me in a cynical voice.
Gee, how nice of you to say. Like I don’t already know. What bug crawled up your ass today?
I silently counted to ten in an attempt to reign in my temper.
Be nice.
“Jim, is there something wrong?” I asked, my voice coming out clipped, despite my efforts to remain patient.
“Oh, no. Nothing is wrong, really. Besides the fact that I had to clean your coffee spill and your drool off of the floor in aisle nine yesterday.”
“My drool?” I eyed him quizzically.
“Oh, come on, Krys. You could barely even speak when that guy Stone was looking at you. I’ve never seen any woman act so gaga over a guy, especially you!”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” I said curtly.
Was I that obvious?
I made a move towards the door, but he blocked my way.
“Is it because he’s loaded?” Jim asked accusingly.
The fact that he thought so little of me stung. I couldn’t explain to myself why I lost my head yesterday. I couldn’t possibly explain it to Jim. Yesterday I didn’t even know who the man was, let alone that he was filthy rich. Jim was so far off the mark.
“Move out of the way, Jim. I didn’t sleep well last night and I have zero energy for an argument today.”
“No, seriously – I want to know. I can’t figure you out. You’re always so disinterested, like you hate men or something,” he said in exasperation. “What makes this guy so different?”
“I’m not having this discussion with you.”
“You never want to have any sort of discussion with me! I’ve been asking you out for as long as I can remember, only to have you turn me down every time!”
His voice was getting louder by the minute. I looked around and was thankful to find that we were the only ones in the break room at that moment.
“I don’t always turn you down,” I weakly replied.
“No, you’re right. You always put me off instead.”
Ouch.
He was right about that one, but it hurt all the same. I took a deep breath to calm my own rising temper, and resigned myself to the inevitable. I should have been more truthful a long time ago.
“Look, Jim – I could apologize, but I really have nothing to apologize for. I just have no interest in dating.”
“Why not? Are you a lesbian or something?” he asked, reaching up to scratch his head in confusion.
“No, I’m not a lesbian,” I said with a light laugh, momentarily amused.
“This isn’t funny to me, Krys.”
He was right. Making light of this wouldn’t help the situation and I s
obered almost immediately. I had to make sure he understood my position once and for all.
“I’m going to be honest here. You’re a great guy and I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you don’t want to be with someone like me. Besides, you and I both know that there’s nothing there. No spark,” I finished frankly, waving my hand back and forth between the two of us. “At least not for me anyways.”
I tried to be gentle, conscious of his feeling towards me, but I was sure that I came off as a crotchety bitch. I sucked in situations like this.
He stared at me for a long moment, taking in what I had said. I watched his face fall and his shoulders slump, all of his anger slipping away to a look of defeat. He looked down at his feet and shifted his weight from side to side. He looked so deflated.
Maybe I’m being too harsh.
When he looked up, his eyes were pained with rejection.
“Well, at least you’re giving it to me straight for once, even though I sort of knew all along. It just sucks hearing you say it out loud.”
“Jim, I’m sorry. Really I am. I don’t mean to hurt you.”
That was the truth, and it killed me to see his desolate expression. Although I found Jim to be somewhat annoying, he was still a decent guy. It would have been so much easier if I had just lied and told him that I was a lesbian.
I’m such a jerk.
I moved towards the door again, unable to look at him any longer. This time, he didn’t block my way.
“Krys?” he called after me. I paused in the doorway, afraid of what else he might say.
“Yes,” I answered hesitantly.
“Your spark is in aisle nine.”
“Excuse me?”
“Stone. He was asking for you a little while ago.”
Oh, shit! Alexander Stone is here?
My heart began to race at the thought of seeing him again. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why that beautiful man would want to see me of all people. But more importantly, I didn’t understand why I became instantly excited by the mere idea of laying eyes on him again. That was a confusing concept that I’d have to delve into later.
I tried to keep control of my composure, not wanting to look too eager and risk hurting Jim even more. I made a conscious effort to steady my voice and sound indifferent.
“Mr. Stone is looking for me. Are you sure?” I asked evenly.
“Yeah, he’s here. You’d better get a move on,” Jim said with a lazy shooing motion of his hands. “I get the impression that he’s not the kind of man that likes to be kept waiting.”
Say no more.
“Thanks, Jim.”
I turned to go, struggling to walk at a reasonable pace. It was hard to keep myself from running all the way to aisle nine.
As I rounded the corner of aisle nine, I noticed that the end cap had been changed. The racking no longer stuck out. I moved to look at the new display, but stopped short when I saw Alexander Stone standing just a few feet away. He was facing away from me and didn’t see that I had come up behind him. I couldn’t help but pause to take in the view.
He was wearing a suit again today, although this time it was navy blue. He had removed his suit coat and had it draped casually over one arm. Without the coat, I was able to faintly see the outline of his well-muscled back and shoulders through his pricy white collared shirt.
My gazed moved down past his tapered waist to his perfectly tailored pants. They looked as if they were made specifically to fit that magnificent contoured ass beneath them.
Boxers or briefs? Or maybe he just goes commando.
My cheeks flushed pink at the thought and my hands clenched tight, fighting against the urge to reach out and touch him.
Down, girl!
He had a shopping basket of groceries in front of him, which I found to be somewhat strange. I didn’t think millionaires shopped for their own groceries. I had always thought that they had a hired minion to do it for them. Out of pure curiosity, I chanced a quick glance in his shopping basket. A could see a few boxes of pasta, almonds, bananas, chocolate, eggs, olives, honey, and pomegranate juice. It was certainly a peculiar combination of food items to say the least.
As if he finally sensed my presence, his shoulders squared and he slowly turned to face me. And there it was – the spark.
My heart began a steady pitter-patter that quickly evolved into a strong thumping in my chest. He was even better looking than I remembered – the definition of pure male beauty. He skipped wearing a tie today and I had to try very hard not to look at the small area of skin that was revealed near his collar. I had no trouble imaging myself unbuttoning that neatly pressed shirt and running my hands over his chest, down his abdomen...
Get ahold of yourself – you’re thinking like some hormone-crazed teenager!
“Miss Cole,” he said with a short nod, the two words sliding over me like warm whiskey.
“Hello, Mr. Stone. I heard you were looking for me,” I said evenly, proud that I was able to sound controlled despite the fact that the man had the ability to turn my knees to liquid.
“Indeed I was,” he said. He was chewing gum. Alexander Stone chewing a piece of gum was probably the sexiest thing I had ever seen in my life.
“Was there something you needed?” I courteously asked, while watching his jaw move up and down over the piece of gum.
A slow leisurely smile began to form on his face, and he waited a moment before responding.
“I just wanted to see how you were doing after your fall yesterday.”
Of course that’s what he wanted.
A potential investor in Wally’s would naturally be concerned about the accident.
The word ‘lawsuit’ is probably a flashing neon sign over my head right now.
“Oh…my fall.” I tried to hide my disappointment. I felt self-conscious about my black and blue eye and hoped that my makeup did a better job of covering it than Jim led me to believe. “I’m fine, really. It’s just a bump on the head. I owe you an apology for my clumsiness. Thank you for your assistance in helping me up.”
I was talking way too fast, my words coming out in a rush, but his mere presence was unsettling. He made me feel like a scatterbrain and I found it difficult to stay composed. However, if he noticed my hurried ramblings, he didn’t let on.
“It was no trouble at all, Miss Cole,” he assured me.
“Well, it’s like Jim said. I could have gotten up on my own, but I was a little stunned from...” From you. Stunned from you. “From smacking my head on the end cap.”
His eyes narrowed at the mention of Jim, and I wanted to slap myself for bringing him up. After all, they hadn’t exactly hit it off the day before.
“Yes, Jim. I spoke with him a few moments ago,” he paused, and seemed to be considering his words. “Is he your boyfriend by chance?”
“Oh, no!” I almost laughed, but then stopped myself when I realized that Stone was dead serious. I frowned, curious as to why whether or not Jim was my boyfriend should matter. “What made you think that he might be?”
“He just seems rather protective of you, that’s all.”
Just great. Not.
“We’re only friends. We’ve known each other for a long time. That’s all.”
“I see,” was all he said, although he seemed to relax after hearing my explanation. Either way, the atmosphere had become awkward, and I felt the need to explain more.
Maybe I should have said coworker, and not friend. I sort of made it seem like Jim and I were close.
“Well, thanks again for helping me out,” I said, resorting to politeness rather than tack on more unnecessary babble.
“I can assure you that it was my pleasure,” he said, emphasizing his last word. A hint of humor glinted in his eyes, causing a blush creep up my neck and into my cheeks. It was suddenly very, very warm in Wally’s Grocery Store.
Did he really need to say the word ‘pleasure’ like that?
The word rolled off of his tongue lik
e ice cream melting from a cone. A vision of Alexander Stone’s tongue, working its way around an ice cream cone, unexpectedly came to mind. Between my overactive imagination and his ridiculously hot gum chewing, I couldn’t stop the wicked ideas that ran through my head. The angel on my shoulder appeared with folded arms and shook her head in disapproval at me. I fought the urge to flick her away.
A ghost of a smile turned up the corners of Stone’s mouth – almost as if he knew what I was thinking. I fought to ignore my awareness of him by focusing my energies on our conversation.
Just don’t look at him chewing the gum.
“Your boss told me that you’ve worked here for a while,” he casually stated.
Small talk. Good. I can handle that.
“Yes. I started here after I moved to New York, so...” I did a quick calculation. “It’s been about four years. I’m a student and the flexible retail schedule is convenient.”
I didn’t want to tell him that I had received my diploma months ago. It was too long of an explanation and I was embarrassed to admit that I hadn’t found a job yet.
“You’re a student? I didn’t realize,” he said.
I could swear that I saw a shadow of disappointment come across his face, but his expression was so impassive that I couldn’t be sure. He folded his arms and considered me carefully.
“Well, I was a student, I should say. I just recently graduated,” I clarified reluctantly. “Most of my fellow classmates were able to land jobs at the places where they interned. My place of internship closed up shop, leaving me back to square one. Unfortunately, I learned a hard lesson about not putting all of my eggs in one basket, if you know what I mean.”
I was talking too fast again, but at least I wasn’t being a mute like yesterday.
“Yes, I do,” he murmured contemplatively. “Do you like your job here, Miss Cole?”
“I, um…” Another question. “Yes, very much so. Mr. Roberts is really good to work for,” I answered evenly. I wished that he would just spit out the gum. It was distracting.
Heart of Stone Page 3