Chandler: A Standalone Contemporary Romance

by Laurelin Paige

By the time we’ve finished, a lot of information has been presented, and I expect Warren will need time to think it over. “Why don’t we schedule a follow-up meeting to—”

  Warren interrupts me, turning to his son-in-law. “Edward, this is a pretty appealing scenario.”

  “It is. One I’m happy to support if you’re on board.”

  A layer of tension drops away with one potential opponent out of the way.

  Warren looks next to my brother. “Hudson, I’ve got to say, Pierce Industries as media players—quite a bold move. I like it.”

  “We try to be innovative whenever we can,” Hudson says, and I’d like to believe that means he’s not going to kill me later in private, but he’s still not giving anything away, so it’s hard to know for sure.

  Warren stands. “I’d like to study these numbers more closely, boys. But if everything checks out, I think we have ourselves a solid strategy.”

  Oh my god.

  Nothing’s been set in stone, but I feel like I’ve won the lottery. I presented a major idea to major players, and not only did I not get laughed at, but I also seem to have closed the deal.

  I’ve never felt so on trend. So on top of my game. So kickass.

  Is this what it feels like every day to be Hudson?

  With the promise of being in touch soon, Warren and his advisors make their exits. The next several minutes are spent cleaning up and going over details with Hagan and Norma.

  Edward approaches his daughter, and I’m a douche because I totally eavesdrop.

  “Genevieve. You had a hand in this proposal?”

  I hate how guilty she looks. Wish I could step in and take the blame.

  She, however, handles the encounter with dignity. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sure this feels like a betrayal. I know you wanted to run Werner Media yourself.”

  Surprisingly, Edward seems not all that pissed. “I did want to run Werner Media. Until this morning when Celia broke into tears and told me she really wishes we could stay in London. I wasn’t looking forward to telling her father that I wasn’t going to take his position. This solves that dilemma.”

  Manipulative on his wife’s part? Possibly. But it sure works out for us. She did say she’d do what she could to influence the decision.

  Genny’s eyes widen with hope. “Then you’re not mad?”

  “I’m not mad.” He takes a beat to seemingly evaluate his feelings. “I’m surprised. I’m also quite impressed. A lot of work went into this. Lots of those ideas I recognize as yours. It’s first-rate.”

  “You think so, even though you don’t want me working in the business?”

  “The only reason I haven’t wanted you working in this business was because I truly thought you’d be happier elsewhere. You’ve had ambitious goals for Accelecom, and I feared you’d never be able to achieve what you wanted if you stayed with us, but it seems you’ve found a way to make them possible. I’m proud of you, princess.”

  My breathing slows. I know how badly Genny wanted her father’s approval, and I feel it now for her as deeply as if he were praising me.

  I turn away as he pulls her into his embrace, wanting to give them their privacy. As I do, I bump into Hudson.

  Oh, right—Hudson.

  He’s the one whose praise I’m most desperate to receive.

  “Are these numbers good?” he asks, holding up the projections Genny and I have laid out. They’re the most attractive part of our presentation, so it’s understandable he’d want to make sure the facts check out.

  Still, I’m nervous when I answer. “I ran them through financials and had Norma triple check them.”

  I sort of expect him to whip out a calculator and do the math himself. But he doesn’t. “That’s excellent news.” He pats me on the back. “Good work.”

  I cough in surprise. “You approve?”

  “It’s a sound strategic move. One that looks to make us a lot of money. Why wouldn’t I approve?”

  I’m shocked. Literally shocked. I nod for five full seconds, speechless. Then, on impulse, I pull him in for a hug. Bro style, of course. Nothing too mushy ‘cause I’m cool and he’s, well, he’s Hudson.

  We talk for a few minutes more while everyone else disperses, and I agree to a more in-depth meeting with him later in the day. It will be grueling, but at least I know he’s on my side.

  Finally, he leaves.

  And then it’s just Genny and me left in the room.

  Our eyes lock. Then she’s running to me, giving me a giant celebratory hug. Every overtone says this embrace comes from exuberance and there’s no reason to believe it’s more, but I cling to her a little too long, sniffing at her hair, breathing in her very essence.

  We break away in unison, and even with the excitement of the day, I note that I’ve never felt so empty as when she leaves my arms.

  “We did it!” I’m awkward, like I don’t know what to do with my hands. I stuff them into my pockets and that seems to help.

  She corrects me. “You did it.”

  “Nah. I couldn’t have put this together without you.”

  “Okay, that’s true.” She giggles. Is she apprehensive as well? “Thank you. I appreciate the credit.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Our gazes dance around each other, and I wish I had something else to say. Something magic. Something that would transform this situation between us into one that’s bearable, because this—this standing so close to what I want and not being able to have it? It’s the worst thing I could’ve ever imagined.

  “Oh! I almost forgot,” she says suddenly, rummaging in her purse. She pulls out something in a black wooden frame and hands it to me. “I, uh, got you a present.”

  I look down at the picture. A smile erupts on my face as I’m met with Mina’s big brown eyes, her soft brunette curls. It’s the image that I’d seen on Genny’s phone. The one she’d taken in the Hamptons and then sent to a random number.

  “It was a text-to-print service,” she explains now. “You send them the image you want printed and then they mail it to you. I’ve used it a few times since I’ve been in the States. Much easier than having to deal with finding a color printer in the hotel.”

  A text-to-print service. And I’d immediately assumed she was spying. I’m a dumbass. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Her smile is shy. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “I love,” you, “it.” I really do. So much.

  Her grin grows more confident. “I’m so glad. She looked so pretty in her party dress, and you clearly adore her. I didn’t see any pictures of her in your apartment. So.”

  She swallows, and I notice her skin is red and splotchy at her neck like it always gets when she’s nervous or turned on. “Also, I need to tell you something.” With her eyes cast down, she barrels on. “I need to tell you that you were right to be suspicious of me. I was scamming you.”

  My shoulders tense. I can’t have heard her right. “Go on.”

  Her breathing is shaky as she exhales. “I, um. I led you to believe I was after the Accelecom merger. That it was the reason I sought you out. But it was never the job I wanted most.”

  “Then what was it?”

  “You.” The word is soft but sure, and I want it to mean what I think it means, but I’m not certain.

  “I don’t know if I understand.”

  “You, Chandler. I just wanted you.” There’s no mistaking her now, and every coil of tension inside me unravels into euphoria. To hell with staying away. I tug her into me, my lips eagerly finding hers. She tastes like coffee and butter mints and relief.

  I understand—I’m relieved to have her in my arms too. I kiss her deeply. Possessively. Like I’ll never stop kissing her. I never should have stopped in the first place.

  Before we get too carried away, though, she pushes out of my grip. Leave it to her to remember we’re in the conference room of my office building and that not all the obstacles between us have been removed.

  O
bstacles like the fact that she lives on another continent.

  “Chandler.” She brushes her lips with her fingers, as if cherishing the way it had felt to have my mouth on hers, before dropping her hand stoically at her side. “I don’t want this to be harder when I leave.”

  “I know.” I run my hands up and down her arms, searching her eyes. “But there’s a way you could stay. Don’t you see it?” I want her to see it so badly, want it to be a feasible option and not just some fantasy I’ve concocted.

  Her brow wrinkles, and it takes her a beat before her eyes light with understanding. “Pierce Industries.”

  Yes. Pierce Industries. My company. “I need someone to head up the new department. It would be a high executive position, working right alongside me. You’d have a whole team. It wouldn’t be the same as running Accelecom, but you’d still get to put your ideas into action.”

  “You’d give that job to me?” she asks tentatively.

  “Give it to you? I created it for you. The job description matches your resume. The salary is negotiable, but—”

  She cuts me off, jumping into my arms. “I love you!”

  I blink, startled as much by her proclamation as her sudden movement. It only takes me a second to pull myself together. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I hold her tighter. “Is that a yes?”

  “It’s a hell, yes. It’s also I love you.”

  She loves me. She loves me! Every cell in my body sings with that one simple phrase.

  I draw back so I can study her, looking for any indication that she’s jerking my chain. I find nothing but sincerity. “You really do love me, don’t you?”

  She nods. Then she repeats it because she gets that I need to hear it over and over before it sinks in.

  And when it does, there’s only one thing left for me to say. “I fucking love you, too.”

  Epilogue

  “We should get a dog.” It’s the third time Genny’s brought it up in the last few days. I’m starting to think she might be serious.

  I stick my head out from the bathroom and pull the toothbrush from my mouth. “We can’t get a dog,” I say, but it comes out a garbled mess since I’m talking around toothpaste.

  “What?”

  I put up a finger signaling to give me a minute, then disappear to spit and rinse before returning to stand in the doorframe. “We can’t get a dog.”

  She looks up from the Pierce Industries Employee Handbook she’s been perusing all morning while I get ready for work. “Why not?”

  There are a thousand reasons, but they’re not so easy to remember when I’m in the same room with her. Especially when all she’s wearing is one of the sleeveless shirts I use to work out in. We’ve been together four months now, and she still makes my pulse race every time I look at her.

  “Why not?” she asks again.

  “You live in an apartment building.” We both live here, but she reminds me daily that it’s her name on the lease. Stubborn as she is about being independent, she refused my invitation to move in with me at the loft and got her own place in Hell’s Kitchen. Yeah, not my first choice, either, but it’s roomy and within walking distance to the office.

  It only took a week to realize that we might as well have gotten a place together. We agreed to wait until after the New Year for me to officially move in, mostly to make her father happy, but before that I only spent a handful of nights at the loft.

  Now I’m here full-time, and spoiler: she’s not getting rid of me.

  “Thousands of people live in apartment buildings and still have dogs,” she says now. We’ve been over this already. Nothing she’s saying is new.

  Nothing I’m saying is new either. “We work all day.”

  “We’ll hire a dog walker.”

  “A cat would be easier.” I’m not even a fan of cats. Just…are we ready for a dog?

  “A cat is not the same as a dog. You said you were a dog person.” She narrows her eyes in my direction. “I feel like I might have been duped.”

  “I am a dog person. I love dogs. I also love kids. It doesn’t mean I want one of either now.”

  She tosses the handbook on the nightstand and stretches out on the bed. “Yes, you do. I know you do. Imagine it. A furry buddy sleeping at your feet. You could train it to bring you your slippers when you get home.”

  In her new position, the light blue edge of her panties peeks out from under her shirt. “You’re too adorable.” So adorable that my boxers are about to tent. I rub my semi through my underwear. “Lift up your shirt—I want to see your tits.”

  “Will that get me a dog?”

  “Possibly.” Probably. After all, my new mission statement is Make Genny Happy. Best job I’ve ever had.

  She sits up, lifting the tank slowly to expose her firm, round breasts. Her nipples are pink and peaked and my mouth waters from the sight of them. After a bit of teasing, she pulls the shirt off all the way and throws it to the ground.

  I let out a sigh. My life is pretty goddamn awesome; I’m not going to deny it.

  “You’re so fucking hot.” I stroke myself, hardening completely. “Move your panties to the side. I need to see your pussy now.”

  She leans back against the headboard and, with two fingers, pulls aside the crotch of her panties to reveal the lips of her pussy. Jesus, she looks just like a Playboy pinup.

  Guess what. It gets better. Because next she takes her panties off altogether. “If losing my shirt gets me a dog, what will losing my panties get me?”

  It will get her finger-fucked, that’s what it will get her. She already looks wet, and I can’t help myself—I have to feel. I head over to the bed and stick two fingers inside her. Damn, she’s soaked. I rub in and out of her a couple of times before pulling away.

  “Done with me already?”

  “I have to get ready for work,” I say, licking my fingers. “And you’re such a naughty distraction.”

  With her eyes locked on mine, she puts her own fingers inside herself. “You mean, I have to take care of myself?”

  She’s so fucking coy I want to either spank her or eat her. Maybe both.

  I glance at my watch. I guess I have a few minutes to spare. And I do have that new mission statement to live up to.

  With my boxers pulled down just far enough to release my erection, I sit on the bed next to her and bring out what she calls my bossy tone. “Climb up on my cock. I’m going to make you come.”

  I should mention that she loves my bossy tone.

  She’s scrambling over me in a matter of seconds, positioning my cock at her entrance before sliding down.

  And oh my god, I practically forget my name. Forget everything but how tight and wet and luscious she is. She feels so good I have to take a few deep breaths to stop from coming right away.

  I love it when that happens—when I have to struggle a little to get control. It’s like racing my car around a series of tight curves. The challenge is what makes the ride so fun.

  When I have myself in check, that's when I push on the gas. “Faster, baby.” I spank the outside of her upper thigh.

  She speeds up, her muscles tensing and her tits bouncing as she works herself up and down on my cock. “Just like that, Genny.”

  It’s better than the goddamned Indie 500.

  I run my hands along her hips, itching to take the wheel, but just as eager to see where she’ll take us on her own.

  Or, rather, with my guidance.

  “Touch yourself,” I command now. Like a good girl, she brings her index finger to her mouth and licks it before bringing it down to massage her clit.

  “Like this?”

  “Just like that, baby. Feel how hard that makes me?”

  “Yes,” she pants. “Yes. You’re so hard. Fuck. I’m going to come.”

  “Do it.” I shift so I can take over, lifting my hips to meet hers, picking up the pace and pounding into her like she likes. Reaching behind her, I grab a handful of her hair and tug it hard so her back arche
s.

  She gasps and her body starts to shake as she nears climax.

  “Do it, Genny. Come all over my cock. I want to feel you squeeze me so hard.” I coach her to her orgasm, praising her and pushing her until she’s reached the crest.

  And then, with a groan that borders on a scream, she’s falling apart on top of me. Her pussy clenches my cock, pulsing as her climax shoots through her in waves.

  “There you go. Just like that, baby.” We’ve discovered we both like it when I pressure her to come. Like it when we’re both working toward her release. Both of us focused on the same thing. It’s even better than when we come together.

  Okay, I’m more than a bit whipped. Sue me.

  While she’s still in the throes of ecstasy, I flip her to her back and kiss her. I slide out of her and down her body, kissing her belly before laying a final kiss on the folds of her pussy.

  I pull up my boxers as I stand, then stare down at my sleepy-eyed girl. Something in my chest pinches, and I swear, I wouldn’t be surprised if I cracked a rib with how big my heart is over her. Maybe we’ve moved fast, but the road goes on and on, and I know without a doubt that it’s never going to end. I love her. Deeply. Completely. Eternally.

  She smiles up at me, her breath still ragged. “What about you?” Her eyes dart to the steel pole in my boxers.

  A steel pole I have to ignore.

  I turn to the dresser and search for a pair of socks. “Unlike you,” I say over my shoulder, “I have a job I have to get to.” Genny’s official start day isn’t until next Monday. Though I put the development of the new department into action as soon as Warren signed off on it, it took a while to get everything ready to launch. Genny’s worked on it with me as much as she could around moving across the Atlantic, getting a visa, and settling into a new apartment. There were also holidays to account for, as well as my own move. “It feels like it’s taken forever to arrive, but your first day is finally around the corner.”

  “About that…” She reaches for the handbook and holds it up. “I’ve discovered one little snag in our relationship. This says you can’t date someone who is your superior.”

  Ah, that. The good old Pierce Industries Anti-Fraternization Policy. It’s not like I haven’t thought about it. A lot. “There are ways around it.”