Saint & Sinner: A Second Chance Romance

by Georgia Le Carre

  When I got into the shop Sandra rushed up to me. I tried my best to keep things neutral, but by the twinkle in her eyes I had not succeeded.

  “How did it go?” she gushed.

  “It was alright,” I replied, heading towards the office.

  To my surprise she didn’t follow me. I sank into my chair and sighed with delicious contentment. Life was good. At least it was … until Sandra came in a few seconds later with a broom in her hand. Like a banshee she moved to attack me with it, and I had to jump up from the chair and rush around the other side of the desk.

  “What the hell!” I yelled.

  “I send you out with all the love and support that you’ll need and you come back to me with a pathetic thing like ‘it was alright?’ What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know you’re not supposed to do that to your best friend?”

  “Oh for God’s sake,” I half-complained and half-laughed, as I caught the broom before she could use it on my face. I dragged it away from her grasp, and put it aside.

  She took a seat on one of the chairs in front of my desk. “All right I forgive you. Now, start talking,” she said. She raised her eyebrows. “I don’t have to remind you we have three more brooms in the storage room.”

  I laughed and returned to my seat. “Well,’ I said, “his secretary was accepting the flowers when he walked in …” By the time I finished my story her eyes were saucers.

  “Now what?” she breathed.

  “Now the ball is in his court,” I murmured.

  21

  Caleb

  From the moment she left, it became impossible to concentrate.

  The candidates we’d invited for their second interviews came in one after the other, but I could barely pay attention to them. All I could think about was the woman that I’d just kissed in my office. It had just dawned on me how easy it was to contact her. I had lived twelve years with her at the forefront of my mind, but unable to see or speak to her. It could now all happen at the press of a button. I was almost overwhelmed with excitement.

  “Er … Mr. Wolfe?”

  I looked away from the blank wall that my gaze had been locked on, and found the other two men watching me curiously.

  “Do you have any more questions for him?”

  I cleared my throat, and made a super-human effort to concentrate on the task at hand. “Yes, yes, I do.”

  A few hours later, I looked up from the mountain of research in front of me to realize that the day was gone. Our office was on the eighth floor of one of the few high rises in town. I swiveled my chair around. Behind me were floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a beautiful view of the city’s skyline. I had paid big money for this view, but after twelve years staring at a brick wall I knew the value of a view like this. It was priceless. I gazed at the striking sunset, and for a few minutes, I drank in the majestic display of the orange and red hues across the horizon.

  It was breathtaking.

  There was only one thing wrong with it. I couldn’t share it with Willow. Rising, I headed over to the window. I leaned my forehead against the cold glass. Where are you Willow? What are you doing? She was so near and yet so far. I wanted to speak to her. To hear her voice. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called her.

  She picked up after a few rings. “Hello.”

  “It’s me, Caleb,” I said, my stomach tightening.

  She gave a soft laugh. “I know. I have your number saved on my phone.”

  I swallowed. I hadn't really thought of what I wanted to say to her. Always in our relationship, she talked and I listened.

  Once again, she stepped in to help me. “How has work been so far?”

  “Good. What about the flower shop?”

  “Things have been good here too,” she said.

  I couldn’t help my smile. I’d never had such a mundane conversation with anyone for the last twelve years, and I loved every single second of it.

  “You should be closing soon, right?” she asked. “Or are you working late tonight too?”

  I sighed. “I have to. I won’t be out of here until past midnight.”

  She sucked in her breath. “That late?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about dinner? Don’t you have to stop for dinner?”

  “I’ll order something in,” I replied.

  “What do you usually get?” she asked.

  I tried to imagine her. The only place I could think of her being was at the flower shop. I imagined her at the table where she made her arrangements. Had she stopped working to take this call, or was she working as she talked to me. I imagined the expression on her face. That soft smile.

  “Caleb?” she called.

  “Uh, sorry. It usually changes. Anne, my secretary, usually asks me what I feel like having, and then orders it before she leaves for the day.” I lifted my arm to check my watch. “That should be in about thirty minutes.”

  “What do you feel like eating today?”

  “I have no idea. Most of the time I just let her choose. Food’s not that important to me,” I replied.

  “Do you like Chinese food?”

  “Yeah, I like Chinese food.”

  “There’s a place close to my flower shop that makes the best Lo Mein and dumplings I have ever tasted.”

  “I’ve never had Lo Mein,” I said softly.

  “Should I order some for you then?” she asked.

  I had a better idea. Fuck work. I could always get back to it after dinner. “When do you get off work? Why don’t we head there together for dinner?”

  Silence.

  The seconds ticked away, and I began to sweat. Was she going to turn me down?

  “No, I don’t want to distract you from work. Here’s what we’ll do instead. I’ll get a take out after I close the shop, and come over to your office. We can have dinner there. What do you think of that idea?”

  A massive grin broke out across my face.

  “That, Willow Rayne, is a brilliant idea.”

  She laughed and her laughter was like music to my ears.

  22

  Willow

  The security guard was expecting me and he waved me towards the elevator. I thanked him and rode the elevator to Caleb’s offices. When the doors swished open, I stepped out into the reception area.

  It was a very different scene from the bustling, busy place I had come to earlier. Everyone had gone home, and the network of cubicles beyond was eerily deserted with the lights dimmed. I walked down the corridor, past the glass demarcated meeting rooms on either side, until I reached his office. My shoes had made no sound on the dark gray carpet.

  I was nervous and there was a slight tremble to my hand as I lifted it to knock on the door that led to his secretary’s office. As I expected I got no response, but I pushed it open and walked in. Her room was empty, and on her table sat the flowers I’d delivered earlier.

  I frowned slightly. After all my hard work, he hadn't taken them into his office.

  I walked up to them, curled my free arm around the glass vase, and headed towards his door. As my other hand was occupied with holding our dinner I wasn’t able to knock. I had just thrust my head forward to lightly bang on his door, when it was pulled open, and I nearly fell through.

  Water splashed out of the vase and drenched both of us as he caught me in his strong arms. His eyes moving to the things I had clutched to my chest. His eyebrows flew upwards when he realized what my plan had been. I flushed red with embarrassment.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, lowering my eyes.

  Laughter flowed from his lips. I lifted my gaze towards his face. He was unbearably beautiful when he laughed. It didn’t even seem like he realized the front of his shirt was soaked.

  “Were you just about to knock with your head?” he asked, shaking his head.

  My cheeks burned even further as he stared at me like he couldn’t believe my logic.

  “My hands were occupied,” I tried to defend myself.

  His gaze suddenly s
oftened. It was of course, bizarre and impossible considering we’d just met and hardly knew each other, but that look made me feel as though he adored me to an almost unreal proportion.

  “Let’s eat before the food gets cold,” I muttered.

  He took the vase from me and put it down on the coffee table that was in the seating area.

  I placed the food on the table next to it, and couldn’t help but ask. “Why didn’t you bring the flowers into your office?”

  He glanced at the bouquet. “Honestly?”

  “Of course.”

  He took his seat and shrugged. “I’m not a huge fan of flowers.”

  I took my seat next to him. “Really?”

  He nodded.

  “So why did your lawyer send them to you? It’s a strange thing to send to a man if you don’t know for sure he loves flowers?”

  He smiled at me, my brain began to glitch once again. I wished that I could tell him not to do that too often, or at least without warning because every time he did, my self-control slipped a bit more. Naturally his eyes were cold and hard, but when he smiled like that, he was suddenly transformed into some sort of God, that I wanted to touch, stroke, and just … just … lick. Oh God, what was I turning into?

  “I think Marie ordered it from your shop because she knew you’d deliver it,” he said.

  I had been about to unpack the food that I’d gotten us, but I stopped. His statement sounded a bit peculiar ... for several reasons.

  “She knows about us? I mean, not us, I realize there is no real us yet, but our date.”

  “She does.” He entertained me patiently, like he had all the time in the world just for me.

  Something else bothered me, but I couldn’t for some reason, place the worry at that moment so I continued with unpacking the takeout boxes of food. He joined me. We worked silently, with my mind processing the revelation of his lawyer’s involvement. I was trying to figure out why it caused that unsettled feeling inside me.

  “Why would she want me to come over?” I asked finally.

  He met my gaze full-on. His eyes intense. “She knows that I am attracted to you.”

  “Oh.” The uneasy feeling still plagued me. “You seem pretty close to her.”

  “Not really,” he replied. “But I’ve known her for a long time.”

  “I see,” I said, but I didn’t. It was weird. All the boxes of food were finally laid out before us so I handed one to him and picked one for me.

  “There’s no fork?” he asked as I handed him a pair of chopsticks.

  “Don’t you know how to use these?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Nah.”

  I smiled, finding his admission a bit amusing. “Don’t worry, I got some forks too, but I thought since you lived in New York you would be an expert at using them.”

  He put a piece of the chicken into his mouth, leaned back, and chewed on it.

  I watched his face, waiting for his reaction. “How is it?” I asked.

  “Delicious. You made a good choice,” he replied sincerely.

  Pride warmed my chest.

  23

  Willow

  We went on eating, and when he asked to taste some of my dumplings I held out the box to him.

  “Can I taste yours?” I asked, looking at the carton of pepper beef he was holding.

  His lips stretched in amusement. “Haven’t you already had it just now?”

  I was caught. All I’d really wanted was to share something that was his without even realizing it. My head lowered in embarrassment. “I … I’m just a bit greedy today.”

  He offered the box to me, but I was too embarrassed to even look at him, so he turned my face to his and brought a piece of dark meat to my lips. “Be a devil. Have some,” he drawled.

  I looked into the gorgeous sunburst of blue and ice and black speck in his eyes and my lips automatically parted.

  I closed my mouth around his fork, savoring even more than the food, the fact that the white plastic had been in his mouth. Sharing made me feel intimate with him, and it was what I most enjoyed. I barely even tasted the food.

  “Another piece?” His voice was thick, and his eyes suddenly veiled.

  I shook my head. Words were gone from me. I looked away, needing to collect my scattered thoughts that had scattered like fallen leaves in the wind.

  The atmosphere had changed and I had lost my appetite, but I pretended to put another piece of food into my mouth and chewed mechanically. Stop it, Willow.

  My gaze went over to his big oak desk, and the mess of papers that were strewn all across it. I could never work in such a mess. It would do my head in, but it obviously worked for him. He probably made more money in a day than I did all year.

  “You mentioned that you’re working on a project. Can I ask what it’s about?”

  “Of course,” he said. “I have a group of overly greedy bastards as clients.”

  My head whirled around. The expression on his face made me laugh and a bit of food went down the wrong pipe. I started coughing. He leaned forward, grabbed a bottle of water and held it out to me. I accepted it, drank it down quickly. “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “It’s just your expression …”

  He was leaning back against the sofa, to all intents and purposes in a relaxed pose, but his eyes were strangely alert. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and again his gaze became disturbingly sultry.

  “I love it when you laugh,” he whispered. “Never apologize for it.”

  It felt as though he was speaking from the depths of his heart which I couldn't understand since we barely knew each other. I felt absolutely speechless. How the hell did we get here so fast? As it stood I was ready to sell my soul to him. I took a deep shuddering breath and forced my gaze back to my food. I felt slightly better when I was not directly looking into the starburst in his eyes. “You were telling me about your project,” I croaked.

  “Do you know about stock options?” he asked.

  “Not one bit,” I replied honestly.

  “Well, I’m trying to create a type of financial product that will give returns of at least two percent a month.”

  “Two percent doesn't seem too greedy to me,” I ventured.

  “It doesn’t sound like much, but when you are talking about the kind of volumes they want to attain it becomes a metric that’s almost impossible to achieve unless … it’s some form of Ponzi scheme.”

  I frowned. “Don’t they know that?”

  “They are aware," he said softly.

  My jaw dropped. “They want you to create a Ponzi scheme for them, don’t they?”

  He nodded slowly.

  “And how much are we talking about?”

  He sighed. “Millions.”

  “Wow!” I stopped suddenly. “Ponzi schemes are illegal. Couldn’t you go to prison for setting it up?’

  “Yeah,” he agreed grimly.

  “So why are you doing it? Why take the risk? Don’t you have enough money already?”

  “It’s complicated, Willow.” His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “They have leverage on me … for now. But I’m going to clean it all up. I have a plan.”

  I was suddenly frightened for him. All my dreams of us being together felt fragile, breakable. What if he ended up in prison? I had so many more questions about his background to ask him about, but at the same time, I didn't want to pry too much and make him feel like he was being interviewed. A strange coldness invaded me. I hugged myself and rubbed my arms.

  “Trust me. I know what I am doing,” he said softly.

  “Okay,’ I said softly. I looked at him. Suddenly, I was sorry. I had harbored such harsh thoughts about him when in fact, he was being squeezed by people who obviously had something on him. What, I didn’t know. But whatever it was it was bad enough to make him do something that could land him in prison. “Now I can see why you’ve been so occupied. You’re completely forgiven for not contacting me in the last two days.”

  There was
a gentle smile across his face. “I wasn’t completely forgiven earlier?”

  “No,” I replied shyly, as my teeth bit down on my bottom lip. I couldn’t even look at him.

  “That kiss this afternoon, didn’t do it?” he teased.

  “Really? You thought one kiss should have been enough to obtain my complete forgiveness?”

  He turned those incredible eyes on me. I was so painfully aware of him it was becoming harder and harder to breathe.

  “What would it have taken?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and let my eyes slide away. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to think about it.”

  He leaned forward and his scent filled my nostrils. It was some expensive cologne, but underneath it there was something familiar. The smell of earth. On a hot summer day. “You smell familiar,” I whispered.

  Something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone so fast, I thought I imagined it. I felt I was dangerously close to losing my mind. Before I could tell what he was going to do, my chin was in his hand. Then he kissed me. It was fire.

  I thought my heart had stopped beating. Molten desire pooled between my thighs, and I lost my head. The box I’d been holding left my hands and tumbled to the floor. I jumped up with a gasp, my heart lurching at the sight of the food that I had spilled onto his new carpet.

  “Oh my God! I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said.

  “Where’s your cleaning supplies closet?” I asked, jumping up in a panic. “I’ll take care of this right now.”

  “Willow,” he called as he stood and clamped his hands around my arms. His gaze bored into my eyes. “Calm down. It’s not a big deal.”

  “We can’t let the food soak into the carpet or it’ll leave a stain. Please, just tell me where the cleaning supplies closet is.”

  “I have no idea where the cleaning supplies closet is,” he admitted, “and I have no intention of letting you clean my carpet. If it stains, it fucking stains. So fucking what.”