Chapter 18
Strangely familiar…
Delaney
Iwoke up late. Thanks to Lacy ditching me at Crawl last night, I was rushing around to get ready for a Saturday brunch, with some potential clients.
When I moved back to L.A, Lacy stuck her neck out and got me a job at one of her little friend’s publishing companies, where I could put my degree to use. I got hired almost immediately as an editor but quickly moved up to head the entire department.
“Where are my keys?” I shouted to no one. I needed to be at the restaurant by 10:00. I was cutting it too close.
“Ugh, I should put one of those stupid trackers on them.” I always said that but never actually did it. It was only ever a good idea when I was frustrated and in a hurry.
I darted toward the front door, hoping I had left them in the lock last night. Again. I have a bad habit of leaving them there, especially if I am in a rush. Stupid I know, but in this case, I’d be grateful.
I swung the door open, anticipating the jingle of the many pendants I had attached to the two keys that were on them but instead, I saw a black box on my welcome mat.
I knew immediately where it came from when I saw the club Crawl logo on it.
I picked it up first, assuming it was for Lacy, but the small red envelope that fell to my feet had my name written across it.
I stepped out of the doorway looking around to see if whoever left this box was still close by, but there was no one. I left it on my bed and kept looking for my keys. After ten minutes and a ton of arguing with myself, I finally found them. By then I was already running late.
* * *
I pulled up to the restaurant, smoothed down the fabric of my skirt, took a deep breath and walked in to meet Lindsey Liles, an up and coming dark romance author.
We signed her onto our publishing firm a couple of weeks ago.
She got one of the biggest advances I had ever seen given to an inexperienced author before.
Today we were going to go over her plot ideas and deadlines.
When I walked in I was surprised to see she wasn’t alone. There was a man with her.
She spotted me almost immediately. She must have a great memory because I had only met her once in passing when she signed her contract. I could have spotted her though, she had a distinctive mole on her nostril. It was small and made her look dignified, in a way.
“Good morning,” she and her guest stood to shake my hand.
“Yes, good morning. Thank you for meeting me today. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” I reached my hand out to shake the gentleman’s hand. He took it and gripped the ends of my fingers, bringing them to his mouth where he pressed a small kiss to them.
I guess chivalry isn’t dead.
“This is my uncle Teddy. Teddy Bishop,” Lindsey started.
“Yes, pardon my intrusion,” Teddy interrupted with a smile.
“Oh please, it’s no problem at all. We love when our writers have a good source of support backing them on their journey with us.” I gestured for them to sit as I also took my seat.
I was enthralled by the idea for her novel. The plot was intriguing and the concept behind it was something unique, but I couldn’t help but notice some similarities to my current situation.
The manuscript would be about a successful man who kept his identity a secret. By day, he was a corporate man but by night, he was a sex fiend on a quest to quench his need for consensual yet unordinary desires. Sex of all kinds.
My boss fell in love with the idea and wanted to move fast and get her signed on with Exhale Publishing before she found someone else to pick up the story. Sex sells and there would definitely be more than enough sex scenes in this story.
* * *
On my way home, I stopped at my favorite coffee shop.
I treated myself to a pumpkin spice latte.
Fall was always my favorite time of the year – not because of the holidays or even the weather, but because that’s the only time it felt socially acceptable to walk around with a pumpkin spice beverage without people looking at you like you were basic.
I mean, who doesn’t love pumpkin spice, right?
When I walked out of the coffee shop toward my car, I saw a blacked-out SUV parked two spaces from mine.
It reminded me of one that would be carrying the president or someone in the Mafia.
The windows were tinted dark, so dark that it was impossible to see in the front window.
I giggled at my thoughts as I plotted a mafia romance on the short distance from the coffee shop to my driver’s side door.
I sat my coffee on the roof of my car and began to rummage through my purse to find my keys. When I heard someone call out to me, I turned to see a tall, very handsome, muscular man with the prettiest hazel eyes staring back at me. There was something oddly familiar about him.
His suit was tailored and snug, leaving little to the imagination.
He stood there with his hands in the pockets of his trousers, stretching the already fitted fabric across his groin area.
My mouth went dry as my eyes scanned over his very muscular physique.
I felt my face heat when my gaze met his as he stood there watching me eye fuck him.
Oh God! What is wrong with me?
Ever since I met Dallas Kingston, I have done nothing but lust after every attractive man I have seen. I felt like a dog in heat. I needed to get him out of my system, move past him and never look back.
The handsome stranger cocked his eyebrow and smirked, “Hello there, beautiful.” His voice was soft, yet.. familiar.
“Yes sir, can I help you?”
“Do you have Triple A?” Thrown off by his question.
I looked around to see we were now alone in the parking lot.
It was still late afternoon but I’ve watched too many crime documentaries to not see that I was potentially in a bad situation.
A man in a desolate parking lot in a vehicle no one could see into, with a large trunk area and he’s asking for Triple A, for the vehicle that appeared to be in perfect condition.
My palms started to sweat, and I gulped loudly.
“Sir?” I questioned, a look of confusion taking over my face. He pointed behind me. I turned slowly, letting out a breathy sigh of relief when I saw my tire was flat. Suddenly, his question made sense. Do I have Triple A?
Shit, nooooo!
I shook my head, making a beeline over to investigate the flat. Not that I had any idea what to even look for. My father always tried to teach me things like changing a tire, so that I had the ability to take care of myself without the assistance of a man, or anyone for that matter.
A self-sufficient woman is a woman ahead in life.
I never wanted to get grease under my nails, so changing a tire wasn’t something I was prepared to take on, especially in my pencil skirt.
The stranger turned toward the vehicle and said something I wasn’t quite close enough to hear. A tall suited man walked over and put his hand out. Nervous and confused I furrowed my brows at him.
“Yeah,” I said, reaching out and slapping my hand down in his palm like a horizontal high five.
Why did I just do that?
He let out a deep chuckle at my response and spoke softly,
“Ma’am, your keys. You’ll be going with Mr…” He was interrupted mid sentence by another deep voice that was now standing closely behind me.
“With me, if that is okay with you. Mr, Enzo here will take your vehicle to be serviced, I assume you have a spare in the back?” He waited for my response while I stood with my mouth open, not quite sure what was even happening.
“You and I will go right over there, see that cafe?” He nodded. “It would be better than standing here,” gesturing to the empty parking lot. “We could grab a bite to eat while we wait.”
I smiled and took the stranger’s hand, now extended before me in an invitation to join him. If he was some sort of serial killer, I was already surrounded and in no way were the odds in my favor. So I reached out and grabbed his hand that was waiting, palm faced upwards, in front of me.
The moment our hands connected, there was something about him, something almost familiar. Strangely familiar.