Fortune's Angel (Fates Aligned Book 2)
Page 4
I attached the files to a new email and selected Leona Forrester’s name from my contact list, but I stopped short before sending it off. How would this play out? I hadn’t really even had a proper conversation with Charlotte, and now I was going out of my way to offer her a job? After that kiss, it would be nearly impossible to convince her that I was motivated by anything other than my attraction to her. How else would I explain it? And what if she found out I’d dug into her personal information after just two encounters? Would she think I was a creep?
Probably.
And she just might be right. After all, what kind of guy goes to such lengths for a woman he just met who sort of works for him and is ten years younger? A perv. Yeah.
I sighed ruefully and scrapped the email I’d drafted, deciding to hold off for the time being. I needed to talk to Charlotte about it first, even if I had to hang around the building until midnight to catch her.
Six
Eli
“So, my hotshot big brother managed to carve out some time for a family dinner,” Kennedy teased as I stepped into the foyer of her home two days later. I rolled my eyes theatrically, playing along.
“Well, they say associating with the little people now and then is good for hotshots like me.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. Keeps us grounded. You know, so we don’t forget how the other ninety-nine percent live.” I laughed as she smacked the back of my head. I wasn’t a part of the infamous One Percent. Not even close. But sarcasm and mockery were how my sister and I communicated more often than not. I rubbed the back of my head and gave her a wounded look. “Hey, don’t hate. You started it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Come on, Donovan’s almost got dinner ready. Mom’s distracted with Ethan, so you might be able to dodge her for a little while.”
I grunted in thanks and took care to avoid the living room doorway. As much as I enjoyed getting to see my nephew, I preferred to stay out of my mother’s range as long as possible. She’d been making a conscious effort to improve her relationship with both of us over the past couple of years, but while Virginia Brighton was no longer the manipulative shrew from our childhood, she’d still been breathing down our necks lately.
Kennedy had been getting the brunt of it, I supposed, since the car accident she was in two years ago had been the catalyst for Mom’s inner makeover. My sister had since gotten married and given birth to a son, who was now almost five months old. For someone who never seemed to enjoy motherhood all that much, Mom certainly had a lot of opinions on how to raise a child. Kennedy dealt with her far more gracefully than I probably would have.
In my case, it was my lack of romantic prospects that seemed to be a perpetual thorn in my mother’s side. Apparently, I’d surpassed the timeline of what she considered a reasonable period of mourning for my failed marriage, and she never missed an opportunity to comment on it.
The food smelled delicious as I followed my nose to the kitchen, where I found my brother-in-law sautéing a pan of vegetables and chatting amicably with my father, Lee. They both greeted me warmly, and Dad proceeded to talk my ear off about RPC. He was eager to hear the advances I’d made since taking over, but I knew that was only part of it. Even after nearly two years, Dad was still grieving, and I didn’t mind being his last connection to his best friend.
Dad had met Rowan Pierce during their years in the military, and Rowan and his wife had been around a lot when Kennedy and I were growing up. They’d never had children of their own, and they’d always treated us like family. I’d started working as a general laborer for Rowan Pierce Construction in high school. After college, I’d joined the company full time, moving through the various departments until Rowan was satisfied that I’d learned the business from every angle. I hadn’t had a clue what he was planning, though. It was hard to say which had come as the bigger shock: my mentor’s death or the fact that he’d named me his sole heir. I hadn’t expected much when I’d walked into his estate attorney’s office, but I’d walked out a multi-millionaire.
The atmosphere at dinner was pleasant, and since Donovan had cooked most of it, the food was superb. I had chosen the seat next to his in the hopes that I might be able to pick his brain about a particular employee of his. To my surprise, he saved me the task of bringing her up myself while Kennedy and Mom were busy fussing over the baby.
“One of my servers said you came in for lunch the other day. Did everything come out all right?”
That’s certainly one way of putting it.
“Yeah, perfect as usual,” I said honestly. “I was with a friend of mine. He owns a few hotels and is looking to expand in the area. I’ve been trying to convince him to let RPC handle his next project, so I wanted to impress him a bit.”
“Did it work?”
“It’s looking like it.”
“Happy to help,” he smiled.
“I actually wanted to ask about the woman who waited on us…” I hedged, trying to sound casual.
“Charlotte? Why, was there a problem?”
“Not at all. She was great. I just… wondered how much you knew about her.”
“Well, roughly as much as I know about any of my employees, I guess,” he frowned, obviously confused by the direction of the conversation. “She seems like a very nice girl. One of my best servers, actually. Works hard, learns quickly, shows up on time, great with the customers… Goes out of her way to help the rest of the staff too. She’s almost always available to work extra shifts when I’m short-handed, and she works more hours than anyone else on the wait staff.”
“Anything else?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know…” Is she single? “Anything about her life outside of work?” Now he was really giving me an odd look, but he answered the question anyway.
“She doesn’t seem to tell people much about herself. She’s kind of withdrawn when it comes to her personal life. Not that I mind. Too much personal stuff in the workplace causes problems, and restaurants have a different sort of work dynamic than most businesses.”
“How so?”
“It’s pretty common for employees to date or sleep with each other, or to be friends outside work at the very least. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve had to break up a lovers’ quarrel in the kitchen, both at Chance Encounters and The Aviston,” he added, referring to the place he’d worked before opening his own restaurant. “Coworkers dating just seems to be the way of things in this industry.”
My gut clenched in a way that had nothing to do with the food I’d been eating.
“But Charlotte doesn’t?” I pressed.
“Not as far as I can tell. She seems to be one of the few exceptions. The other waitresses tend to exclude her somewhat, at least when it comes to things outside of work. No one is rude to her or anything, but when I hear stories about this party or that bar everyone goes to after work, her name is never mentioned. I know what she does after closing time anyway, and it’s not drinking or getting high.”
“What does she do?”
“Why all the questions? Did she say or do something inappropriate the other—”
“No, nothing like that. I’ll… explain in a minute. What is it she does after closing?” I asked, ignoring his probing gaze.
“Well… Any unused food that can’t be saved for the next day gets donated to one of the local homeless shelters. Charlotte comes back after closing time to pick it up and delivers it on her way home. I’d do it myself or send one of the guys, but she was adamant about it. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. I didn’t like the idea of her going into that neighborhood alone at night, but she said she lived near there, so it was no big deal,” he shrugged. “We went back and forth on it for a few days, but I eventually gave in. She can be pretty persuasive.”
“What neighborhood?”
“Seventh Avenue, over in Ybor.”
“That’s her street,” I nodded thoughtfully, “so she wasn’t lying about it being on her way home.”
“And how is it you know where she lives?” he asked in surprise. I looked at my plate in embarrassment.
“Uh… Her second job is with the company that cleans our offices at night. We ran into each other there and again at the restaurant. I was curious as to why she had two jobs, so I looked into it. Her address was on her employment records for the staffing agency.”
“Uh huh.” Something in the tone of his voice made me look up at him, only to see him wearing a satisfied smile. “So, what’s with all the recon? You finally getting up off the mat?”
“No,” I scowled. “And don’t go telling Kennedy otherwise. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“She’s my wife. We talk about everything, so…” He grinned deviously.
“Hey, remember that time I caught you cooking breakfast half naked in my sister’s kitchen? Funny story. My dad might think so too.”
“Okay, damn. So sensitive. I won’t say anything.”
“Good.”
“For now.”
I glared at him but couldn’t think of anything else to threaten him with. I supposed I’d earned it for grilling him like that, but I didn’t feel at all sorry for it. He’d been able to tell me more about Charlotte than I’d expected. Sure, Donovan may not have known anything about her friends or family or even if she was single, but what he’d said revealed a lot about her personality. Not only was she a hard worker, but she was also a genuinely good person. The kind who went out of their way to make late night stops at a homeless shelter to donate food. The kind who didn’t fit into the stereotypical mold for a woman her age. I liked that. Probably more than I should.
Once I had finished eating, Donovan passed me the baby so I could keep him entertained while he and Kennedy focused on finishing their own meals. Ethan gave me a happy, toothless smile as I made faces at him and blew raspberries against his cheek. He seemed like a very easy-going baby, though I admittedly knew very little about infants or children in general. June hadn’t wanted kids, so I’d made my peace with not having a family of my own years ago. After our divorce, I was single and focused on other things, and the subject hadn’t really crossed my mind again.
So, why was it that my head was suddenly filled with images of lively, raven-haired little girls and impish little boys with Charlotte’s brown eyes and my auburn hair?
Fuck. What’s wrong with me?
I had no idea if she even wanted children, and here I was picturing our potential offspring. Next, I’d be doodling Mrs. Charlotte Brighton in the margins of my fucking finance reports. Ethan made a noise not unlike a snort of derision, and I nodded in silent agreement as I passed him down to my dad. Tell me about it, buddy.
“Eli, you still haven’t sent your RSVP for the sock hop,” my mother reminded me, her tone chastising. I was surprised she’d spared me this long, so I swallowed my sarcastic response.
“I’ll be there.”
“With a date?”
And here we go.
“We’ll see. I’ll make sure you know one way or the other with plenty of notice.”
“I could mention it to Jackie, if you like. Her daughter is coming down from Jacksonville for the event, and I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”
I barely managed not to roll my eyes at her matchmaking. She didn’t even bother trying to be covert about it anymore, which I supposed was probably a good thing. The ‘sock hop’ she was referring to was a fundraising event she and her busybody friends put on every year for the local division of the Homeless Outreach Program. The sock hop theme was a play on the organization’s acronym.
Mom didn’t immediately strike anyone as the charitable type, and I had the feeling she’d only gotten involved for the sake of appearances. Still, she’d stuck with it for years, and that had to mean something. My mother’s work for the organization was one of the few things I truly admired about her.
“No, thank you, Mom. I’m sure I can manage to find a date on my own.” Without my permission, my mind instantly went to Charlotte and wondered if she was passionate enough about the cause to be interested in attending. Hmm...
“But you never do, dear. Seriously, it’s no trouble to bring it up with—”
“No, Mom. If my coming alone is that much of an issue, I can always just send a check.”
“No, I want you to be there. I just want you to enjoy yourself, that’s all.”
Her expression was one of genuine concern, and I immediately felt guilty for losing my patience with her. She really had been making an effort to be less argumentative over the last couple years, and I didn’t want her to think I hadn’t noticed or didn’t appreciate her concern. My voice was a bit softer when I replied.
“I’m sure it will be a great event, and I’ll enjoy myself either way. I’m perfectly happy going alone if it comes to that. I promise.”
Even as the words left my mouth, my brain conjured an image of Charlotte standing next to me in a fifties-inspired costume. She could certainly make it look better than anyone else. I pictured her in a dress that would fit her in all the right places and flare outward to dance around those sexy legs of hers. Something low cut, maybe in white to set off her dark hair and beautiful skin…
I zoned out through the next few moments and only returned to awareness when I had to adjust myself discreetly beneath the table. When I glanced up again, I caught Donovan watching me with a smug expression, and I rolled my eyes.
Asshole.
Seven
Charlotte
I groaned a sigh of appreciation as I settled into one of the padded breakroom chairs and unscrewed the lid from my water bottle, trying not to feel too conspicuous in my new surroundings. I was halfway through my Thursday evening cleaning shift, and my supervisor had decided to change up the roster a bit. He claimed it kept us from getting bored and thereby complacent in our duties. As such, I’d been reassigned to a batch of floors that included some of the offices of Rowan Pierce Construction, and I counted it as a small blessing that none of those offices belonged to the CEO.
It had been almost a week since he’d come into the restaurant and sat in my section with his friend. Almost a week since he’d made me wet with little more than a heated gaze from a dozen feet away. Almost a week since he’d trapped me against the wall of a secluded hallway and proceeded to kiss me until I’d lost nearly all cognitive function...
Not that I’d been thinking about it. At all.
I flipped half-heartedly through a magazine someone had left on the table and forced my mind onto something more important and far less entertaining. One of my mother’s doctors had called me between my shifts to discuss a few changes in her treatment plan, and I now had a list of things I needed to research at the library on Saturday. I’d given him the green light, but I still wanted to make sure I had a good understanding of what was going on since I had the final say in regard to her care. While the past few years had certainly broadened the scope of my medical knowledge, I still had a lot to learn.
“You look troubled.”
I jumped at the sound of his voice and clenched my fingers around my water bottle, grateful that I hadn’t been startled in the act of taking a drink. Spewing water all over the table wouldn’t have been very attractive.
“Hi,” I said lamely, watching Eli’s smooth movements as he crossed the small room and came to sit next to me. Something seemed to ripple beneath my skin as his scent washed over me. He hadn’t been this close since…
“Hi. Anything I can help with?”
“Um… No, nothing’s wrong. Just taking a short break.”
I glanced nervously at the clock and noticed I still had another ten minutes before I had to get back to work. When I looked back at him, his blue eyes were fixed on my mouth, and I could tell I wasn’t the only one who’d been thinking about our last encounter. I couldn’t help but stare at his lips too, remembering how perfect they’d felt against mine. Snap out of it, Charlotte.
“You’re here late again,” I noted.
I nodded but could think of nothing to say in response, and I couldn’t seem to stop staring at him. Eye-fucking. I’d never really appreciated that phrase before now, but that’s exactly what we were doing. My pulse was thundering against my eardrums, and my mouth was suddenly dry. I licked my lips unconsciously and held my breath as I watched his eyes follow the movement, darkening like a stormy sea. Eli cleared his throat and seemed to shake himself out of the trance.
“I feel I should apologize for my behavior the other day at the restaurant.”
Oh. I looked down at my lap, feeling my face heat up in shame. He’d said before that he wasn’t sorry, but he’d apparently changed his mind. I didn’t blame him for regretting it, even if I couldn’t quite bring myself to feel the same way.
“Forget it,” I mumbled.
“I don’t want to forget it,” he contradicted, pulling my eyes back to his. They were still dark and intense. “And I don’t want you to forget it either. It was just a… poor choice of time and place. That doesn’t mean I regret it.”
I felt like the heat of his gaze might set me on fire all over again, so I forced myself to look away and change the subject.
“So, you usually work long hours?”
“Yes, though sometimes, I do it from home. What about you?”
“I’m at the restaurant during the day and here in the evenings. I swap on weekends, more or less,” I replied, hoping he’d be satisfied with that. I didn’t need him asking questions I couldn’t answer truthfully.