Fortune's Angel (Fates Aligned Book 2)

by Christi Whitson

  “Working on securing the land at the moment. Out at Indian Rocks Beach. The existing structure would need to come down first.”

  “Well, I think I can recommend a good commercial construction company when you’re ready,” I joked, glancing up and over his shoulder.

  Hayden said something in response, but his words didn’t quite penetrate my brain. My focus was suddenly and completely consumed by the dark-haired waitress now approaching our table with a cautious expression on her angelic face.

  Charlotte.

  I barely heard her standardized greeting or the drink Hayden ordered as I gaped at her in surprise. She looked much more put-together in her serving uniform, though it didn’t make her previous appearance any less attractive as far as I was concerned. Today, she was wearing a form-fitting black skirt that ended at her knees, black flats, and a crimson button-down shirt. She’d left the top two buttons undone, but she wasn’t showing much cleavage. I got the impression she’d done it for the sake of comfort rather than to put herself on display. It was summer, after all. She’d cuffed her sleeves up to her elbows too. Her makeup was minimal, and her long, black hair was confined again, this time in a braid down the center of her back. I had a sudden vision of myself roping that braid around my hand as I slammed into her from behind.

  Hayden cleared his throat, and I shook the thought from my mind as I realized Charlotte was waiting for me to say something. Drink order. Right.

  “Uh, I’m fine with water, thank you. Nice to see you again,” I tacked on, hoping for a glimpse of the sweet smile I’d been fantasizing about all week. I wasn’t disappointed.

  “You too. I’ll give you a few minutes to look over the menu. Please let me know if you have any questions.”

  My eyes remained glued to her as she walked away, her feminine hips swaying with each step. Fuck, she was gorgeous. But what was she doing here? Had she changed jobs? Maybe that was why I hadn’t seen her in the office, despite my numerous attempts to catch her after hours.

  “She’s hot,” Hayden interrupted my thoughts. “If that’s how they make them in Tampa, I’ll start my relocation process right away.”

  Irritation flared within me, and some previously-dormant monster brooding in my chest growled a low warning at my long-time friend. I ignored my subconscious as it berated me for my hypocrisy. Hayden didn’t shrink beneath my glare, watching me curiously from across the table. I was secure enough to acknowledge that he was a good-looking guy, but it had never bothered me until just now. After a moment, though, I caught a smirk on his face and realized he’d only been trying to get a rise out of me.

  “How’d you meet her?”

  “We crossed paths last week… at work.”

  “You sure don’t do anything halfway,” Hayden chuckled. He closed his menu, having apparently decided on an entrée.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You finally decide to start dating again and immediately go for one of your own employees? You won’t be the first or the last to go down that path, of course, but it’s bound to get complicated. You might want to think about starting with someone a bit more removed. Someone you won’t run into again if things go south.”

  “And this stellar dating advice is based on what?” I muttered, once again ignoring the inner voice that seconded Hayden’s opinion. It wasn’t like he was an expert on women these days either.

  “Common sense?”

  “She doesn’t… actually work for me,” I protested weakly. “She goes through a contracted agency.”

  “Is that really a fine line you want to walk?”

  I grumbled a few curses under my breath and fixed my eyes on my menu, unable to think of an argument. He was right, and we both knew it. Still, I couldn’t help but watch Charlotte as she interacted with the patrons at her other tables. My eyes were drawn to her like magnets, and my arousal felt like a divining rod between my legs. To resist her would’ve been to defy the laws of science.

  Charlotte flitted back to our table and took our meal orders as quickly as possible, her mannerisms skittish and her cheeks flushed. This time, her nervousness was easier to read, and I was almost positive she felt the same intense attraction I was experiencing. When she scampered off, I forced my gaze back to Hayden, who was once again giving me a knowing smile.

  “What about you?” I asked, hoping to turn the attention away from myself. “I’d imagine dating is a lot easier now that you’ve inherited a multi-million-dollar business.” Hayden scoffed.

  “You should know better than most that it doesn’t work that way. Sure, women are interested, but it’s impossible to know what they like more. Me or the money. Now I understand why my dad kept trying to corner me into an arranged marriage before he died.”

  “Arranged marriage? People still do that?”

  “Rich people do. Dad wanted to marry me off to some malleable, doe-eyed little debutante who wouldn’t bother reading the fine print on a prenup.”

  “Maybe he was just looking out for you.”

  “Looking out for his money, more like. He certainly wasn’t concerned for my heart or my happiness. He just wanted as much control over his money as possible, even after he was gone. He wanted a guarantee that I wouldn’t marry the first money-grubbing swimsuit model who crossed my path with a mind to bankrupt his legacy.”

  “That doesn’t sound like your type.”

  “It’s not. But you know how he was. He never saw the good in anyone unless it involved dollar signs. But enough about him,” Hayden sighed. “Are you going to go for it with this girl or not?”

  My eyes sought Charlotte out once again, tracing her curves from a distance as she delivered food to another table. I wanted more than anything to say yes, but I knew I had to proceed with caution if I moved forward at all.

  Maybe I’ll ask Donovan about her…

  Four

  Charlotte

  The universe hates me. That’s all there is to it. Nothing else could explain Mr. Brighton’s appearance at Chance Encounters today. Apparently, I hadn’t made a big enough fool of myself the first time we’d met, and fate was determined to see the job done properly. Fuck. I’d been avoiding his floor ever since that night, though my coworker had only just returned from vacation. There had been no getting him out of my mind, however. In fact, I’d spent so much time thinking about him that I wouldn’t have been surprised if doing so had manifested his reappearance.

  “Your meals should be out shortly,” I announced when I returned to Mr. Brighton’s table to refill the drinks. His lunch companion smiled politely and nodded in thanks, but Mr. Brighton stopped me before I could walk away.

  “Did you leave your other job?”

  “No, I… I still work there,” I hedged, moving away before he could say anything else.

  I could tell he wanted to know more than that, but I wasn’t about to volunteer personal information to a customer. Try as I might to ignore him, I was certain I felt his gaze searing the flesh beneath my uniform as I went to check on the patrons at the next table.

  One of the gentlemen seated there was a balding, oily-looking man in his fifties. He was creeping me out a bit with his lewd stares and suggestive comments, but that seemed to be the trend for today. Brent was in rare form too. Or in his case, perhaps not so rare.

  My manager’s questionable behavior was starting to wear on me, but being hit on by the occasional male customer didn’t typically bother me. It came with the territory in the foodservice industry. Chance Encounters was a four-star restaurant, but even at such an upscale establishment, people had been known to have a little too much to drink with their meal and forget their manners. I’d been slipped more phone numbers and offered more alcoholic drinks as a server than I ever had during my bar-hopping college days. Eventually, it just rolls off you.

  As soon as I’d stowed my empty tray in the wait station, I headed for the women’s restroom to check my appearance. I was half expecting to find my breasts hanging out of my shirt
, but my reflection revealed nothing out of the ordinary. What had they all been staring at, then? I shook my head distractedly and did up one more button before tugging my skirt as low as possible. It seemed prudent, since Brent was a bit more tactile than usual today.

  I gave the mirror a nod of approval and headed for the door, pulling the handle open with a paper towel. As I turned to toss it into the trash on my way out, however, I ran smack into a wall of muscle. My balance faltered, and I was abruptly enveloped by a pair of arms and a very familiar scent. I barely managed not to moan aloud.

  Mr. Brighton’s hands were on my waist, and something flickered in his blue eyes as I looked up into his face. It was an echo of the intensity I’d seen in the conference room last week, but this time, I couldn’t detect even a hint of restraint. My lungs seized as he pulled me toward him and then trapped me between his broad chest and the corridor wall behind me.

  “What are y—”

  The rest of my words were swallowed by his lips, and something ignited between us, licking through my veins like fire until every nerve ending was aflame. The idea of resisting was laughable. Absurd, even. I didn’t care that I was a waitress kissing a wealthy man. Or that we were making out like teenagers in a secluded hallway next to the restrooms in my place of employment. It didn’t matter who we were or where we were. Because I’d been drowning all my life, and the touch of his lips was like oxygen. He was breathing life into me with every caress, every sweep of his talented tongue.

  A door on the other side of the hallway squeaked open loudly, startling us both. We broke apart and looked in the direction of the sound, only to see the door to the men’s room closing. Someone had seen us. Shit. I had no idea who it might’ve been, and my mind raced through the possibilities. Being spotted by a customer would’ve been embarrassing, but being caught by a coworker could have presented a real problem.

  “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not,” he admitted quietly, sounding a little short of breath.

  “Mr. Brighton, I’m—”

  “Eli.”

  “I… Eli… I’m sorry, but I need to get back to work.”

  I was back down the hallway and around the corner before he could say another word, and I could still feel the scorching heat of his gaze as I made my escape. I watched covertly from the wait station for a few seconds until I saw him return to his table.

  Jesus. Did that really just happen?

  My skin seemed to burn in the places he’d touched me, and I had to take a moment to compose myself as I heard my name being called from the kitchen. It turned out to be one of the food runners, telling me they’d just delivered the entrées to Mr. Brighton’s table. Eli… His given named settled into my mind with a warm, dreamy sort of feeling, and my heart stuttered yet again as I remembered our kiss. I was barely conscious of what I was doing as I helped prep an order for another server, trying in vain to collect myself before I had to show my face at Eli’s table again.

  “You feeling all right? You look a bit flushed.”

  I instinctively shrank away from Brent’s voice and pretended to be in a hurry to return to the dining room.

  “I’m fine. Busy day,” I replied quickly, scampering off before he could say anything else or get any closer to me.

  How I got through the rest of Eli’s meal, I’ll never know. That kiss had left me in such a state that I was now walking around with uncomfortably damp panties. His eyes never seemed to leave me for long, which made me feel even more conspicuous. It was as though he knew.

  “Is Donovan West working today?” Eli asked in his deep voice as I collected his empty plate. I paused, not sure if he knew my boss or simply wanted to pass along compliments to the chef.

  “He is. Would you like to speak to him?”

  “No, I’m sure he’s busy. But if you could tell him his brother-in-law stopped by with a friend and that we both enjoyed our meals, I’d appreciate it.”

  I could feel my eyes widen at that new bit of information, but I forced myself to smile and assure him I’d pass along the message. My thoughts were a jumble as I returned to the wait station to process Eli’s credit card payment. So, he was my sort-of boss at one job and related to my actual boss at the other. And he’d had his tongue in my mouth not thirty minutes ago.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  What else was I supposed to do with that information other than run like hell in the opposite direction? Even if I’d been brave enough not to care about that sort of thing, I knew full well there could be no way forward.

  If I’d been a normal twenty-three-year-old woman, I might have scribbled my number on the back of his receipt. I might have even just asked him out and said to hell with the consequences. We could’ve gone on a few dates and explored the connection I’d felt blossoming between us.

  But I wasn’t normal. I couldn’t give him my number knowing it would require an explanation as to why I couldn’t text or spend more than a few minutes on a call. I lived in my car, for fuck’s sake. I couldn’t go on dates. My brain promptly supplied a ridiculous image of Eli picking me up from the Walmart parking lot or sharing warm fruit and bottled water from the pathetic little cooler I kept in my back floorboard. Maybe in another life, we could’ve been something more to one another, but there was simply no point in indulging that fantasy.

  So, no... I didn’t give him my number, and I didn’t ask him out. I gave him his receipt, said goodbye, and hoped never to cross paths with him again.

  Five

  Eli

  Ignoring Hayden’s pointed stares and smug smiles was relatively easy as we left the restaurant and parted ways. The harder task was focusing on my work well enough to get anything accomplished that afternoon. My thoughts were consumed by the memory of Charlotte and that kiss. I was no novice when it came to women, but I’d never experienced a kiss like that. Not that kissing her had been my intention when I’d given into Hayden’s harassment and followed her into the little hallway. As I’d waited for her to come out of the restroom, I’d decided to ask for her number and see if she had any plans next weekend.

  But the moment I’d touched her, a fire had sprung to life inside of me. The heat had robbed my mind of all sense, burning through my ability to reason until the only logical thing to do had been to wrap my arms around her and show her what her perfect lips were made for.

  Judging by her response, I wasn’t the only one feeling this chemistry between us. It had probably been foolish of me to follow her at all, considering she’d been at work. Making out with a customer in a secluded hallway hadn’t exactly been professional behavior on her part, but I was sure I could intervene with Donovan on her behalf if I’d inadvertently put her job in any danger. I decided to ask him about Charlotte at the next opportunity. Preferably when my mother and sister weren’t around. The last thing I needed was the two of them ganging up on me about my dating life, or lack thereof.

  When I returned to my desk after lunch, my thoughts were still with Charlotte, replaying every second of our interaction. Apparently, she had two jobs, or at least that had been the implication. Such a thing wasn’t all that rare in the present economic climate, but to see Charlotte in a situation like that troubled me. I remembered the neighborhood she lived in too, and it seemed a bit odd that even with two jobs, she couldn’t afford anything better. Safer.

  She was young and, as far as I could tell, fairly intelligent. When had the system become so broken that someone like her couldn’t make a living wage between two jobs? I hadn’t missed Charlotte’s implication that she’d dropped out of college, and I assumed it had been for financial reasons. It was the only explanation that made sense. She clearly wasn’t lacking when it came to her work ethic, and college was expensive.

  My mind naturally went in search of possible solutions. There had to be some way to help her. Maybe there was a better paying job with RPC that she might be qualified for. But then I wouldn’t be able to date her…

  What the fuck was I thinking? Of course, I couldn’t
date her. Hayden’s encouragement might have granted me a moment of optimism, but even he had to know this couldn’t possibly work out. Even without blurring professional lines, I was too old for her. A young woman like her shouldn’t get involved with a guy ten years her senior who was still a bit jaded from a failed marriage. It sucked, but those were the facts.

  But that didn’t mean I couldn’t help her out of a rough situation. She’d said she majored in pre-law as an undergrad at the University of Florida. How close had she been to graduating? Why had she apparently abandoned the field altogether?

  I needed more information, and I had a fair idea of how to get it. This time, it was much easier to push away any guilt I might’ve felt for prying into her life. My motives were honorable, after all. Purely professional. It was with that reassurance that I emailed the staffing agency directly, bypassing my own HR department and requesting a copy of Charlotte’s résumé, among other things. If I couldn’t pursue her romantically, then maybe I could at least find a way to help her out.

  Right, some darker part of my mind scoffed at me sarcastically. Now that you’ve had a taste of her, it’ll be no problem walking away.

  To my surprise, the agency got back to me in record time, attaching Charlotte’s résumé and personnel file to their email. I devoured the new information with a thirst I refused to examine too closely. I now had a phone number and email address for her too.

  She’d attended high school in a town called Wauchula, which Google identified as a small community roughly an hour’s drive southeast of Tampa. After that, she’d gone to the University of Florida in Gainesville up until November two years ago, and she’d been an honor student in both high school and college.

  Her work history was pretty typical for someone her age, aside from the length of it. She’d been working pretty much nonstop since she was fifteen. Most of her previous jobs had been in Gainesville, with the exception of what I presumed had been another waitressing job just before her move to Tampa and a high school retail job that were both in her hometown. Apparently, she’d moved back home for a brief time before coming here. Charlotte’s résumé also listed the computer programs she was familiar with, and I was pleased to see that most were office software. Surely, I could find something for her...