Fortune's Angel (Fates Aligned Book 2)

by Christi Whitson

  Fortune’s Angel

  A Fates Aligned Novel

  Christi Whitson

  Fortune’s Angel

  Copyright © 2019 by Christi Whitson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or any electronic method, without the prior written permission of the author. This excludes brief quotations used in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, and events are the products of the author’s imagination and are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design and Formatting: Christi Whitson

  Editing: Christi Whitson and Judy McCrary

  There are currently more than half a million homeless Americans. They are veterans, children, mothers, fathers, the elderly, and the disabled. They are of every race, every religion, and every background. They are neither invisible nor forgotten.

  A portion of all Fortune’s Angel sales is donated to the National Homeless Coalition.

  Thank you for your contribution!

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Before You Go!

  One

  Eli

  There was an angel in my conference room.

  Not the biblical or mythical kind. More like the Victoria’s Secret kind. She stood with her back to me, showing far more skin than I was accustomed to seeing at work. The tiny straps of her tank top sat precariously on her slender shoulders, and her snug denim shorts revealed a pair of legs that belonged in a magazine or on a billboard. They were flawless, lightly tanned, and shapely down to her feet, which were encased in a pair of well-worn sneakers.

  She was tiny. Almost comically so. But her exposed arms showed a surprising amount of muscle and complemented her hourglass shape. Her ink-black hair was gathered high atop her head in a messy bun with a few loose tendrils curling around the nape of her neck.

  My body was already responding to hers, and I hadn’t even seen her face. Hell, if I’d had the ability to think coherently, I probably would’ve been amazed that I had the energy to react at all. It had been another brutally long day, which had become the norm since I’d taken over as CEO at Rowan Pierce Construction. Between conference calls, staff meetings, and everything else, romantic entanglements were the last thing on my mind.

  When I’d opened my office door to head home for the night, I’d been surprised to hear music playing from down the hall. It hadn’t been loud enough to penetrate the relative sound-proofing of my office, but the peppy, upbeat tune was in stark contrast to the typically quiet atmosphere of the executive floor. I’d assumed the building would be empty at that hour, with the exception of the night security guards downstairs. But when I’d glanced in the direction of the sound, a light from one of the conference rooms had made me curious enough to investigate.

  I have no idea how long I stood there watching her, bewildered and transfixed, but I eventually noticed a bottle of cleaner and a damp cloth on the glass conference table in front of her. She’d apparently been in the process of removing the streaks and fingerprints left over from the day’s various meetings. I admit, I’d had very few encounters with the overnight cleaning staff, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they all looked like her. She was dressed for a summer barbeque or a late night baseball game rather than a job.

  Her attire wasn’t all that strange, I supposed, considering the nature of her job and the fact that Florida was currently suffering its hottest summer on record. Surprisingly, my angel didn’t seem to be bothered by the arctic chill of the air conditioning, though I was perfectly comfortable in my suit and tie.

  I shifted my weight reluctantly, intending to head for the elevator and leave her to her work, but I belatedly caught sight of the object in her hands. The RPC logo in the corner told me it was a company file of some sort, but I couldn’t see it properly from that distance. Regardless, no one on the cleaning staff had any business reading it. I probably should’ve been irritated, particularly after the day I’d had. But all I felt was amused curiosity. I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorjamb, taking care to keep a straight face.

  “Anything interesting in there?”

  I had to raise my voice a little so she could hear me over the music, and she was visibly startled by my interruption. She whipped around to face me, her expression one of shock and embarrassment, and I was just as stunned when I got a good look at her face.

  Wow.

  Her features were somehow delicate as well as exotic. Clear skin, full lips, high cheekbones... I could see signs of a mixed heritage, perhaps Hispanic or Asian. Maybe both. Her dark eyes were wide and fearful, and her cheeks were growing pinker by the second. She immediately closed the file and put it on the table behind her, and I barely managed not to smile at her nervousness.

  “Did someone leave something interesting behind in my conference room?”

  “Your conference room?” she echoed, now looking even more alarmed. Her voice was lower than I’d expected from such a small person. Sultry, even. “You’re Mr. Brighton?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “I’m so sorry, sir. I don’t usually work on this floor. I’m just filling in for Matthew while he’s on vacation. No one warned me that someone might still be working up here this late, so I didn’t think the music would bother anyone. I’m usually down on the first five levels, and no one cares about the noise down there…” I tried to interrupt her rambling, but she just kept talking, even as I slowly closed the distance between us. “I’m so sorry, I just got distracted with—”

  I lifted my hand and put my index finger against her lips, and she stopped rambling. She might have even stopped breathing. We were both frozen in place for a moment, as my brain struggled to catch up with my body. I was touching her lips, and judging by her stunned expression, she was as surprised by the action as I was. But I couldn’t pull away. Our eyes were locked, and all common sense had completely evaporated.

  From the closer vantage, I could see that her eyes were a beautiful shade of brown, like bourbon or dark ale. Her small stature made me feel like a giant, and I was sure she couldn’t be much taller than about five feet. A faint floral scent hung in the air around her, leaving my brain befuddled and my trousers snug. She didn’t just look like an angel. She smelled like heaven.

  “You don’t need to apologize,” I murmured, forcing myself to lift my finger and break the trance.

  My voice came out lower and with a slight rasp that betrayed my arousal, and I saw her tremble slightly. The previously up-tempo song on the radio transitioned smoothly into a slower, heavier beat, almost as hypnotic as she was.

  “I’m the only one here this late, and you didn’t disturb me. My office is pretty well sound-proofed,
and I only heard the music because I was on my way to the elevator.” My eyes flickered to the file I’d caught her reading. “What’s your name?”

  “Charlotte Douglas.”

  Charlotte. It was a wholesome sort of name, and it suited her. Despite her somewhat exotic beauty, there was a wide-eyed sort of sweetness about her. Not quite innocence, but close.

  “Eli Brighton. Nice to meet you, Charlotte. Mind if I ask what you were reading?”

  “Um…” She glanced nervously at the file and back at me. “I think someone in your legal department must’ve left it behind. I was going to return it to the proper office on my way back downstairs, but I accidentally dropped it, and the pages scattered. Then when I was putting them back in order, I started reading and found a few mistakes, and…”

  She was rambling again, and I held up a hand to reassure her. I didn’t touch her this time, though, and the hint of relief I saw in her expression brought me up short. Maybe she hadn’t enjoyed our brief contact as much as I had. Lord knows, I’d liked it way too much. My eyes held hers as I reached around her slightly to grab the folder, and it looked like she was holding her breath again.

  I said nothing as I scanned the top sheet inside the folder, immediately recognizing it as a legal file from a new client contract meeting earlier that day. Not only was I alarmed that someone on my legal team had been so careless, but I was more than a little intrigued that someone on the cleaning staff had been able to find mistakes so quickly in a document like that. Talk about a misallocation of human resources. Even I had trouble following the legalese sometimes.

  “Have you worked here long?” I asked, looking up from the file to catch her staring at my shoulders. The new rush of color in her cheeks made me curious as to what sort of thoughts I’d interrupted.

  “About six months.”

  “Just in the evenings?” She nodded. Why haven’t I crossed paths with her before? I sure as hell work enough late nights… But I recalled her explanation that she usually worked on the lower floors. RPC wasn’t the only company with office space in the building. “Do you have a background in law?”

  “Not really.” My confusion must’ve been obvious, because she added, “I was pre-law at UF before… Before I moved here.”

  “And you found mistakes? Care to show me?”

  “Well, they were mostly grammatical errors, except for the one on page five...” She cautiously took the folder from my hand and flipped to that page, and I used her momentary distraction to inhale another lungful of her sweet scent. “The attorney referred to clause thirteen of the municipal code, but I think they actually meant to use clause twenty-three. Because the one they referenced doesn’t actually have anything to do with commercial zoning.

  “It’s probably just a typo, but if you’re in some kind of dispute over zoning laws, that could be something a judge might use to rule against you. Some judges can be sticklers about things like that. Again, I’m sorry if I overstepped. I’m fully aware of the terms of the privacy agreement I signed when I took the job. You don’t have to worry about confidentiality.”

  Her reassurance about my company’s privacy was appreciated, but I was no longer concerned about that. The depth of her knowledge was impressive. How many people would’ve been able to catch something like that so quickly? Or catch it at all? I found myself growing more intrigued and bemused by Charlotte the more she spoke, and I made a mental note to talk to my head of legal about the issue she had found.

  “Thank you, Miss Douglas. I’ll make sure it gets back to the right person. Do you enjoy working here?” My own breathing faltered a little as she graced me with a beautiful smile.

  “Yes, everyone has been wonderful.”

  “Good. If you’re ever interested in a change of scenery, though, I may have an opening in legal,” I chuckled, gesturing to the file as I took it back from her. Her smile vanished.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to get anyone in trouble. They were very simple mistakes, and—”

  “It’s okay. You didn’t. That particular employee has been a bit negligent lately anyway.” I glanced at the clock and reluctantly added, “I should get going. Will you be leaving soon too?”

  “No, I have another hour or so left in my shift.”

  Hmm. It’s after eleven.

  “Are you parked in the garage downstairs?”

  “Yes,” she replied, her brow furrowed in confusion.

  “I’ll have security walk you to your car since it’s so late, then.”

  “Oh. Thank you, but that’s really not necessary, sir.”

  “I insist. I’ll stop by the office downstairs and make sure someone knows to be available when you’re ready to leave.”

  “Really, it’s okay.”

  “It’s that or I hang around and walk you out myself,” I countered, unable to keep the smile off my face. Her brown eyes widened.

  “Um…” She shook her head, fidgeting a little. “I wouldn’t want to hold you up. Security will be fine. Thank you.”

  Her thanks came out sounding like a grudging afterthought, but I didn’t mind. I caught myself staring down at her lips again, and I had to force myself to back away from her.

  “Have a good evening, Charlotte.”

  She gave me a silent, parting wave, and I headed back down the hall, feeling slightly bereft as I boarded the elevator with the legal file still clutched in my hand.

  Charlotte Douglas. Who are you?

  Two

  Charlotte

  “Holy shit.”

  I whispered the curse once he’d left the room and took a few deep breaths in an effort to recenter myself. It was pointless since his masculine scent still lingered in the air. It was the kind of smell that turned your head when you caught a hint of it in a public space, and I was sure it had to do with pheromones or something. All straight women were biologically wired to search for the source. Eli Brighton seemed to carry stronger pheromones than any man I’d ever met. Or maybe they were just more in sync with mine. Why else would my panties be uncomfortably damp after only a few minutes in his presence?

  Shake it off. Get back to work.

  The rest of my shift passed in a blur, and as Mr. Brighton had promised, one of the security guards stopped me on my way through the lobby toward the parking garage elevators. I wasn’t sure why he’d been so adamant that I should have an escort. It wasn’t like I hadn’t walked alone through the garage after every night shift for the past six months.

  “It’s okay,” I tried to explain to the guard. “I walk alone every night. Really, it’s no big deal.”

  “Mr. Brighton was very clear, miss. Don’t want to get me in trouble, right?” He was an older gentleman with a kind smile, and I felt it would’ve been rude to argue with him.

  I smiled reluctantly back at him and let him follow me to the elevator that would take us to the underground parking structure. I just hoped he wouldn’t insist on coming so close to my car that he could see inside. That would be hard to talk my way out of. The doors slid open with a muted ding, and the thick summer humidity hit us full force. The garage was well ventilated, but it was still hot. The direct contrast to the air-conditioned building we’d just left had me feeling sticky and uncomfortable.

  The guard escorted me down the row where my aging Chevrolet Malibu was parked amongst the vehicles belonging to other members of the cleaning crew. It wasn’t much to look at, but I certainly never took it for granted. When we were about twenty feet away, I turned to him with a polite but dismissive smile.

  “Thank you…” I trailed off, looking for a name tag.

  “Ralph,” he smiled back. “No problem. You be careful, miss. Have a nice night.”

  “You too.”

  I expelled a sigh of gratitude as he walked away, and I turned to unlock the door with my key. The car had automatic locks, but the one on the driver’s door hadn’t worked properly in years. It was even hotter inside the car, of course, and I groaned miserably. The air conditioning still worked, b
ut I preferred to conserve as much gas as possible.

  The heat combined with several hours spent cleaning had left me feeling grimy, but rolling down the windows gave me some relief. The night breeze cooled my skin as I made my way to my twenty-four-hour gym in West Tampa. I parked near the front entrance and grabbed my small bag of toiletries from the passenger side floorboard, locking the doors behind me. At this time of night, the place was always pretty dead, especially during the summer months when the nearby college campuses were mostly deserted. The manager at the front desk looked up when I walked in and gave me a friendly wave.

  “Hey, Glen,” I waved back, heading for the women’s locker room.

  It was as empty as the parking lot had been, and I quickly dug my charger and cell phone from my canvas shoulder bag, plugging it into one of the wall sockets. It was an extremely basic prepaid flip phone that I rarely used, so it never took much to keep the battery juiced up. I tucked the phone out of sight, though I wasn’t particularly worried about anyone stealing it. In the age of smartphones, smart watches, and Bluetooth, I highly doubted anyone would bother absconding with my piece of shit flip phone.

  I took a cool shower, enjoying a break from the heat, but as always, I didn’t have time to linger. I needed to run my errands and grab a few hours of sleep before I had to be up and off to my day job. Once I’d hurried through my hygiene process, I repacked my little toiletry bag and left the locker room.

  “Anyone bother you?” Glen asked as I passed through the lobby on my way out.

  “Nope. Didn’t see another soul.”

  “Good. Where are you off to?”

  “The usual. See you tomorrow.”

  “Wait a second,” he said, grabbing a plastic bag from behind the long desk and lifting it toward me. Inside were a couple of water bottles, still carrying the chill of the gym’s employee-designated refrigerator. I smiled gratefully.

  “Thanks, Glen.”

  “Don’t mention it. Take care of yourself, hon.”