Chasing Beautiful (Chasing Series #1)

by Ann, Pamela

  “I’m good! What about you? How’s work?” I asked before taking a sip of water.

  “What’s this?” Kyle asked as his finger pointed at the folded flyer in my hand. He jovially took it. His long manly fingers pried it open.

  “You’re looking for a job? Why didn’t you say so?” He peered at me as he popped an olive.

  I was staring at his mouth. Looking away a little embarrassed.

  Damn, he’s still cute and sexy to boot. Are these normal reactions to your still-hot looking ex? I suppose so. I mean, it was merely a month ago since that mouth went downtown with my body.

  “I don’t know what I want yet. Have to see what’s available. But I want to work somewhere challenging, you know, a job that I can learn from and apply later on in life.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say? I’m interviewing for an assistant.” Kyle informed me, smiling widely.

  “You’re joking, right? Why would you need an assistant, Kyle?” He usually does his own thing.

  “Hey! Don’t underestimate my abilities—but you know I’ve been working for the company ever since I was sixteen. I’ve earned my position. All I’m saying is that I have a spot available—if you’re not interested—too bad,” shrugging slightly as he devoured another olive.

  “Sorry—I wasn’t underestimating your abilities—I was just surprised. Climbing up the ladder hmm? I’m happy for you. But as you can see, my class schedule is a little crazy. I don’t see how that could work.”

  The waiter took our order and placed a bottle of red wine, breadsticks and olives on the table. Kyle poured wine in our glasses. I munched on the olives and breadsticks.

  I was famished.

  “The schedule’s going to be flexible. You will be working more at night when I scout during gigs or talk to bands during shifts. You only have to go to the office once or twice a week to do some paperwork—other than that— you can send emails through your phone when I need you to get some things done.”

  “Hmmm, are you sure you want me as your assistant, Kyle?” arching my brow at him, questioning his sanity. “What if we fight all the time? What then?”

  “Baby—you forget that it’s me you’re dealing with. For years, I’ve dealt with your PMS and your mood swings.” I choked on my olive, but he kept going. “I took care of you when you were sick, held your hair as you puked your guts out over the toilet, taught you how to drive, need I say more?”

  “Fine—I get it—when do you want me to start?” smirking up a smile. Wonder what it’s like working with Kyle. He was passionate about his job and I admired that.

  “How does Friday night sound? I need to check out a band that’s playing in Camden.”

  “Friday sounds bueno! Try not to be such a slave driver, okay?”

  I couldn’t wait to start work. I had always wondered how it would be working behind the scenes, the process, the thrill of signing a great band and I was dying to know.

  “I’ll definitely try not to work you to the ground baby,” he murmured softly. I wonder if Blake would be bothered that he calls me ‘baby’?

  Our food arrived and our conversation steered to his job and what he had been up to. Stories flowed and we chatted about the people we knew back home.

  His easy going personality made it easy for me to be comfortable with him again. If we continue with this kind of progression, our friendship will bounce back in no time. I’m confident that it will.

  We parted after our lunch date and I had to scurry to The National Gallery Museum to meet my class. Today, we’re going to learn about Botticelli and his work. I’m energized and psyched that I get to study it close-up. Last week, I was awestruck with the works of Jan van Ecyk. Especially with the Arnolfini Marriage illusionism painting, it was simply unique and his perfect execution of geometrical points and perception was outstanding. Not to mention his application on the reversed reflection of the mirror with immaculate detail rendered me speechless. His one-of-a-kind depiction of lighting made it extraordinary.

  I was intrigued and enraptured.

  Our class is small with twenty students who are all eager to learn about art and its history. When I got there, the class gathered at the far end of Trafalgar Square as our teacher, Mrs. Samantha Collins, checked her roster. She’s a charming British lady who talks animatedly with passionate alacrity for anything and everything art. Some people have the zeal for it and others are simply apathetic about the subject. I, for one, liked to be absorbed in the artist’s craftiness and mastery.

  Their execution of their imagination in fine intricate detail—was simply gravitating. It’s like being transported and seeing it from their eyes. Their hopes, dreams, emotions, their soul—and their very being—are captured from their compelling graphic artistry. My ingénue mind keen to learn and grasp their unrivaled ingenuity.

  While studying the Venus and Mars renaissance painting, I received a message from Blake.

  What have you been up to poppet? Stuck here about to head for a meeting. I’m knackered.

  I can’t help turning mushy every single time I get a message from him. I smirked when he used “knackered,” British slang for tired. I’m still learning their British colloquialism, but it’s funny how I tend to use some of them now. Chad too, but he’s been here for almost five years. He came here to study after high school and decided to stay after he graduated. He told me that once you fall for London, it’s hard to let go.

  I rushed a reply.

  I’m at the National Gallery studying. Btw, I found a job! Drink up some of your beloved espressos. I’m sure that’ll help put you back in top form.

  My phone beeped again.

  You were looking for a job? Why didn’t you mention it, poppet? If you ever need money, just say so. Give me your banking details. I’ll have it wired to you immediately.

  I almost choked on my saliva.

  No, thank you. Keep your money, it wasn’t the issue. I just want to see if I can explore more and meet new people. I only have school and I hate being idle.

  Luce mentioned once a few months ago how Blake would give hefty allowances to his women. A week or a month, it didn’t make a difference since he simply spoiled them rotten. Apart from his god-like handsomeness, he was like the Roman god Plutus incarnated, squandering his wealth and lavishing his over-eager strumpets, ready and willing for him. If Blake Knightly says jump, they eagerly respond, “how high?”

  I’m not bitter, much.

  Honestly, I can’t recall how many women he’s dated since I’ve met him. There were countless of them. It’s dangerous when I think about it. A speck of doubt is a speck of venom that will surely poison our budding relationship. We’re still building our trust with each other as lovers. My mind cannot wander about in unchartered territory of doubts.

  With Kyle, I had encountered many instances where women hit on him constantly or “friends” that would try to seduce him while I was not paying attention. It was aggravating to say the least. But with Blake, it’s like comparing a gigantic lake to an ocean. Overwhelming doesn’t even cover it.

  So, what’s a woman to do? I simply pushed it aside and distracted myself with dancing or with a handful of French and Italian pastries. Viola! It works like a charm.

  Sorry, meeting just started. Which company will you work for? When do you start?

  My stomach did a somersault. Should I tell him the truth or skirt around it? He’ll eventually find out. It was better to break it to him now rather than later.

  I start tomorrow. I’m an assistant for M.A.T.T. Music. It’s off my major, but too good of an opportunity to pass up. I’m pretty psyched about it!

  I hit send before I changed my mind.

  My phone vibrated immediately. Whoa, that was fast. Isn’t he in a meeting?

  Isn’t that Kyle’s company? You’ll be working for him? Rubbish. Tell him you’re going to quit. I’ll get you a job somewhere suitable.

  He’s not serious? Screw you. He could shove his demands somewhere else. I wasn’
t budging.

  Don’t dictate my life! My mind is capable of making rational decisions. If you’re not happy about it, well too bad—deal with it.

  If he’s going to think I’ll be complacent like his previous women, then he can think again! I shoved my phone back in my purse, infuriated with his attitude. I’d rather get back to studying Botticelli paintings than deal with His Royal Highness.

  My phone vibrated again, but I ignored it.

  Let him simmer and fester. He deserved it.

  Twenty-Five

  Blake

  It’s been a hectic day full of meetings, video calls and now, it seems it’s going to get even better. Amelia Mendez was in the middle of her presentation when my Blackberry vibrated. Everyone noticed, but I didn’t give a damn. My mood wasn’t going to be messed with or they’d end up getting fired. Amelia smiled and proceeded. She’d been giving me a lot of blatant come-hither looks. She’s certainly beautiful, but I’ve been subtly declining her advances.

  I’ve turned them all down since Sienna became mine.

  Don’t dictate my life! My mind is capable of making rational decisions. If you’re not happy about it, too bad.

  Christ! This woman’s impossible! How can she think that working with Kyle would be alright with me?

  I made my feelings perfectly clear concerning that cretin. I’m being rational. I can get you a job anywhere, name it. Kyle has motives. I just want you to be safe, is all. I miss you, poppet.

  I placed my phone back in my pocket and waited for her reply. Ten minutes passed and she still hadn’t. She was obviously ticked off. I’d give her time to calm down.

  It’s evident to everyone with sight that he wants her back. But his loss is my gain. I’m not as feebleminded as he is. He didn’t realize how special Sienna was. But I did. I’ve waited gallantly for almost nine months. I’m not going to let him snatch her away. Hell. The. Fuck. No.

  That first night I saw her at Toby’s party, I was bewitched.

  She wasn’t the type of woman I’m usually attracted to—but, Christ, any man would be blind not to be captivated by the exotically golden/green-eyed beauty and her lush curves—especially that toned, succulent ass of hers. Her body’s just perfect—long wavy mane, C-cups, small waist and a nice rounded, pert bottom. She’s the kind who could make a man groan as she passed by. She’s lethal to all hot-blooded males in her vicinity.

  But the shocking realization after I was introduced to her was that she’s not superficial and in fact, quite a sincere person. She was a breath of fresh air with enough sass, wit and sweetness melded with her goddess beauty.

  I couldn’t get enough of her.

  When Toby saw where my eyes wandered, he warned me to back off. He mentioned that she was in a very committed relationship with her childhood sweetheart and there was no chance in hell of breaking them up. They were in love and would marry someday.

  I retreated; how can a man compete with that? Love was anathema to me. I had seen my parents in love but never had I experienced it.

  Yet, I couldn’t stay away from her. I was drawn to her, hook, line and sinker. So, I settled for her friendship. Our friendship flourished and it made me want her more.

  We had a lot in common and she was fun to be around—but I had to keep my desires buried when she was near. I quietly lusted from afar. For months, I practiced the art of restraint and placed a harness on my feelings. When she broke the news that Kyle cheated and started seeing someone else, I was triumphant and my mind was set on having her.

  My plan faltered when she decided to go see him after what he’d done; I let her be. If closure was what she needed, then closure is what she’d get. Had I known at the time what that visit would result in—I wouldn’t have let her go.

  When Lucy casually mentioned that Sienna was back early, how distraught she was and why she was distraught, furious didn’t amount to what I felt then.

  The impulse to see her was imminent and I made a dash to my flat to get her spare key. I let myself in the apartment, ready to confront and berate her. But when I opened her bedroom door and saw her sleeping so soundly, all thoughts vanished.

  It pained me that she slept with him, but it didn’t change the fact that I still wanted her—more than ever. I had to tread carefully when pursuing her. But all my good intentions of taking it slow vanished when she taunted me in the car; when she spoke in Spanish. I knew the language fluently, but when she purred in Spanish, I was flabbergasted. I wanted to fuck her badly right then—but I did as she asked—waited.

  But when she broke the news about Kyle moving here and she needed to help him, I was conflicted. I wanted her, but she was still attached to the man.

  That night at the park, I was at odds with myself. I wanted her but I couldn’t bring myself to ask if she was still in love with him.

  If she was in love, how in God’s name could I compete with that? I did what I had to do, walk away.

  But my Sienna didn’t make it easy for me. She had to drag that cretin to the club and flaunt him as he groped her right before my eyes. Rearing jealousy floored me and ripped me apart. I was done for.

  I knew then.

  I knew then if I didn’t possess her, I would be haunted by her forever. They say life is about taking risks, right?

  My sanity was at stake; the decision was made.

  That same night, when she finally gave herself to me, something deep inside me shifted.

  A soul-shifting change that touched the very core of my being, Sienna did that—unbeknownst to her.

  The meeting ended; I thanked everyone as they departed and scampered back to their offices. Amelia sauntered towards me, placing her hand on my chest, a bold move for a bold woman. I met her three months ago when I made a quick trip down here to oversee the new branch along with the new project. I was attracted to her and she easily gave in to my advances, without hesitation. For two whole nights, I enjoyed her body. But seeing her now didn’t do anything for me. She obviously wanted to pick up where we left off.

  “Señor Knightly, what time will you need me to be ready for the gala tonight?” We’re both going to represent the company and she’s my plus one.

  It’s all business and nothing else. She’s a daughter of a prominent family in Spain. She’s good at her job and she’s a great asset for the company. And it didn’t hurt that she has vast connections in the country.

  “Be ready by six. You can go home and get ready. I’m sure we’ll be fine without you for the rest of the day.” I said calmly, cocking my head quickly and going back to studying the paperwork I had in my hands. She leaned a little closer and grazed my cheek.

  Her perfume was heady and I wanted to get away.

  “I’ll be more than ready for you. See you tonight, mi amor.” She purred and sashayed her tight-clad body out the door.

  Running my hand through my hair, I made a mental note to tell her I’m seeing someone else. She seemed oblivious to the fact that I had declined her offers, several times. She just kept on coming nonetheless. Christ, that woman’s going to be trouble.

  Releasing a heavy sigh, I went back to my office, sat on my desk and stared at the photo of the woman who irrevocably bewitched me.

  It was a picture I took the day after making love to her. That night was one of the best nights I’ve ever had. She was worth the wait. When I woke up and saw her next to me, I had to keep a memento—to freeze that moment in my mind—she was everything that I’ve ever wanted in a woman and more. I grabbed my phone and took the picture. Her hair was disheveled, lips slightly parted, and the sheet barely covered her breasts. She looked so peaceful and absolutely breathtaking.

  Something tugged inside of me the longer I stared at her. Christ, Knightly. You’ve got it so bad.

  Pulling out my phone, I checked for messages or missed calls. I got a few from friends and work, but none came from her.

  I squeezed the bridge of my nose to ease some tension.

  Buzzing the intercom and barked for Luke, my
assistant who was hired a week ago in London, to come inside my office ‘this instant’.

  “Yes, Mr. Knightly?” The composed blue-eyed blonde male asked.

  “Can you check my schedule? Tell me when I’m free so I can visit London.”

  After a minute or two, he came back again with the company iPad and checked the calendar. Clearing his throat, he spoke. “Next week, you can leave Friday afternoon. But you have to be back early Sunday to make it for your golf meeting with the Mayor and other investors.”

  “Fine, make sure the pilot knows. I want to leave at four and get there by six. Do it before you leave today. That will be it, Luke. Thank you.”

  “Good day, Mr. Knightly.”

  Fuck! Another week until I see her? Fuck!

  Twenty-Six

  Sienna

  “Owww,” I yelped in my pain when my tongue got burned by the scalding hot coffee. I’ve been all over the place and my mind decided to take a vacation somewhere in Marbella. The first thing I did this morning was check my phone for calls and messages. I was crushed when he never called or texted; he usually calls me before he goes to bed.

  I huffed, if he was still mad at me, okay. I could deal with that. But what I couldn’t fathom is someone telling me what to do. If he wanted to be with me, he had to change. I was not yielding to his demands.

  I was on my way to Chad’s studio in Camden town geared in an all-black ensemble. Black cami, pants and pumps. It definitely matched my mood and I was in terrible need for girly time. I know Chad is a man, technically speaking, but he’s a woman at heart. His usual laissez-faire attitude would help pick up my mood.

  Pulling open the door to his studio, I let myself in and called out his name. The main floor was his actual art studio where he does some of his shoots and his touch-and-go penchant for painting. He only paints when he’s stressed out. But his main focus, pride and joy, is photography.

  “In here, baby love!” Chad yelled behind the black drapes and I strolled over to him.