Meant to Love Read online

  “And you want me to move in here?” This time my laugh is humorless.

  “He’s all bark and no bite. I promise.” She turns to look at me. My eyes keep flicking all over the beautiful condo that needs a good cleaning. It’s not a complete mess but to-go boxes are everywhere and things are thrown around without care. His home is obviously on the bottom of his list of priorities. I’m guessing that's a side effect of being a workaholic. I can smell the stench of alcohol, too.

  Even with everything that’s being laid out in front of my eyes, I know I’ll accept this job if she offers it to me. I may hate it and I might have to deal with some bullshit from him, but I’m tougher than I look. I lived with my mother, and if I can survive that, I can survive anything.

  Charla continues to show me around the condo, listing things that I’ll be responsible for if I take the position. I listen and take everything in, knowing that I’m taking this job no matter what.

  “What do you think?” she says as she sits down at the kitchen counter. “The job is yours if you want it.” The relief that sweeps through me almost brings me to my knees. I get myself together and smile.

  “I’ll take it,” I say not having to discuss any of the details since the salary and requirements were already in the file. I’m shocked she’s offered it to me so quickly. In a weird way, she’s like a fairy godmother to me in this moment.

  “Perfect.” She smiles and looks happy to have filled the position. She almost looks relieved as well. That’s an odd reaction, which can only mean that I’m going to have my work cut out for me with this Colden guy. “You’ll have to fill out some privacy paperwork that I’ll go over with you and then you can get started.” I look down at my suitcase, wondering where I’ll stay tonight. Charla surprises me with her next statement. “Let me show you to the guest quarters so that you can get settled.” Tears spring to my eyes but I nod and follow her. Yes, she’s definitely a fairy godmother.

  3

  Colden

  “You can’t hide in there forever,” I hear Charla say from my office. I grab the towel, pulling it off the rack to wipe my face. I’m a grown man. She can’t make me go out with one of the Clementine sisters. I say to myself and not out loud because I’m likely wrong, “Just get it over with. It’s one dinner.” I can hear her eyeroll from here.

  I toss the towel down and give myself one last look in the mirror. I could use a shave but fuck it. I flip off the light to my office bathroom to see Charla standing there with a smile on her face. It’s too big. She’s up to something or already did something. I narrow my eyes at her.

  “I set you up with the nicer one.”

  “There’s a nice one?” I ask, making her laugh. I wasn't joking. “Which one and where am I meeting her?” I pull off my tie. I had a few meetings today so I had to be presentable for those this morning. I am done for the day. Well, with work at least. One dinner to go and I am going to crash for the night. Hopefully the rest of this hangover is gone when I wake up tomorrow. I dragged ass all day today and I can’t shake the feeling that something is going to happen. I should text my baby sister, Rochelle, and make sure she’s okay back home. I regret leaving her, but she had to finish school. I wanted her to start a new chapter in her life. Also I know that she didn't want to leave. I know from here I can help financially. I can send money back home at least. Enough to get her through college.

  My dream is that she finds a career she loves and doesn't fall into the same pattern as me. I don’t want her life to be only about work. One workaholic is enough for our small family. Most times I feel guilty for leaving her but I know I did the right thing. She would never do what she wanted if I was still there. She’d always want to stick around to take care of me even though I am older.

  “Savannah,” Charla answers. I’m guessing she’s the nice one.

  “Blondie or brownie?” I ask. That’s as much as I can recall of the two sisters. They look pretty much the same, only one has blond hair and the other has brown. Those are the only details that I can remember about them. They both have sparkling personalities. I’m being sarcastic when I say that.

  “Brownie.”

  I glance at my watch. “Please say a steakhouse?” I haven't eaten all day. My stomach hasn't been up for it. There’s a chance that it’s finally coming back because I am starving at the moment.

  “I booked Porters.” Porters is my favorite steakhouse in the city. My mouth waters thinking of the juicy steak they serve.

  “Unbook it,” I tell her. I head over to my desk to clear out any last emails and make sure my boss, Leo, hasn’t sent me anything. I go ahead and shoot him one asking for an update about my sister. My father is useless and I know my little sister, Rochelle, will always say she’s fine even if she’s not. I trust Leo to really check in on her for me. He’s not only my boss but one of my best friends. We’ve known each other for almost our entire lives. He, Rochelle and I grew up together. I know I can trust him to keep an eye on her. He’s been as much of a brother to her growing up as I have.

  “Why would I unbook it? It’s your favorite.” She gives me a puzzled look.

  “Because I don’t want Brownie knowing my normal spots that I go to on the regular. Nor do I want her to taint my favorite restaurant for me.”

  “Fine.” She clicks away on her phone. “The place across the street good?” I nod my agreement as I type out my email to Leo.

  “I went ahead and hired that assistant we talked about this morning.” I look up from my computer. I’m not the least bit surprised that she found and hired someone already. This is Charla we’re talking about here. Once she sets her mind on something, there is no stopping her.

  “Just keep them out of my way and I don’t care who you hire.” My mind was a little fuzzy this morning. A reminder of why I don’t drink. I like to always be sharp but sometimes you need an alcoholic beverage to get you through these events without wanting to punch someone.

  I go back to my email, firing it off to Leo. Charla is oddly quiet about my comment. It put me on edge that she’s not offering her normal two cents. Maybe she’s feeling guilty that I have to go out with Brownie. It’s either that or there’s something she’s not telling me. She only gets this quiet when she’s hiding something or not divulging all of the information.

  “What time am I supposed to be there?”

  “She’s meeting you here. I thought it best that way.”

  “So I can’t dodge her?” I smirk. The idea had crossed my mind but I’d rather get it done with and not have Charla on my ass about it. It would make the mayor happy. It also assures that nothing will get back to Leo about me dropping the ball out here in New York. The last thing I need is for him to find out that I’m struggling to keep my head above water when it comes to this job. I don’t want to disappoint him. He’s put his trust in me.

  Charla lifts the phone to her ear. “She’s here.” She gives me a fake happy smile.

  “You can’t go back there!” I hear our front desk receptionist Tia yell.

  “Don’t you know who I am?”

  “Brownie,” I supply as I raise an eyebrow at Charla.

  “Savannah,” she hisses, reminding me of the woman’s name seconds before she is pushing the door open into my office.

  “I’m so sorry! I tried to stop her, sir,” Tia says in a panicky voice. I know I can be a jerk but I’m not going to yell at the woman for not tackling Brownie to the ground. Doesn’t mean I’m not pissed about it and that headache that has started to dull comes racing back. I should never have agreed to this in the first place.

  “It’s fine,” I grit out. I don’t like anyone barging into my office. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. I’ll be the worst date Brownie has ever had. I’ll have her running for the hills in no time. They don’t call me Cold for no reason. She’ll get to see why for herself.

  Brownie tries to rush over to me, but Charla steps into her path, holding her hand out. “How have you been Savannah?”

&
nbsp; I know she’s using her name to make sure I remember it. I also know she stepped into the woman’s path to block her from getting to me knowing that I would have likely side-stepped her and Charla would think that’s rude.

  “Great,” Savannah chirps, taking Charla’s hand. A wonderful smell fills my nose. I know it’s not Savannah. It seems to be coming off of Charla.

  “Did you get a new perfume?” I ask Charla, taking a step toward her, ignoring Savannah totally. As long as I’ve known Charla she has worn Chanel N°5. I know because I buy it for her birthday. The shit is expensive and I think it might be made out of pure gold for as much as it costs, but Charla is worth her weight in gold with how often she saves my ass.

  “No.” She turns to look at me, giving me a small smirk. That same one she uses when she’s up to something. “Must be Penelope. I spent a few hours with her.”

  “She smells like her name sounds. Sweet,” I mutter. My chest goes tight and I feel myself grow a little hard. I have to fight the chub I’m getting from a fucking smell. “Wait. Who is Penelope?” That name doesn’t ring any bells. It’s a sweet name. Too sweet. I’d remember it if I’d heard Charla say it before.

  “You’ll meet her later.” Charla gives one of her firm nods. I want to meet her now, my mind screams. The sweet smell of this Penelope has made my headache start to subside again. Excitement fills my veins for the first time in a while. I’m not sure who she is but somehow I know she’s going to change my life. I can feel it.

  “You double booked dates tonight?” Savannah hisses. She is pretty in a very Stepford Wife kind of way. I don’t find her looks appealing. They don’t do anything for me. I think my father has ruined me when it comes to her type. I’ve seen him burn through these same cookie cutter rich women growing up. Luckily, he kept them away from Rochelle. That’s all that mattered to me. It probably didn’t help that some of my father’s own one-night stands, which often turned into week-long affairs, would try and hit on me when he wasn’t around. I think it's part of why I’ve built this wall around me. It is easier to keep people away if you act cold. Hence my nickname.

  “Penelope is an employee,” Charla answers for us all. Ah. The extra assistant she said she’d be getting me.

  “Oh.” Brownie beams. Her smile is as fake as the rest of her. I’m not into the entitled type. Actually I’m not into anything or anyone at all. Work is the significant other in my life. I could never imagine coming home to a woman like Brownie. I’d choose the single life over that one every time.

  “I need food.” I grab my suit jacket. “We’re going to the steakhouse across the street. I want an early night,” I inform Brownie. She smiles, immediately getting the wrong idea. “Early night at home. By myself,” I clarify to make sure she understands. I don’t wait for her to follow me as I head out of my office. I can hear the click of her heels behind me. I know she’s a bloodsucker but I still want to tell her to never chase after a man. She’s the one that showed up here. She knew exactly what she was getting into. I’m going to make sure I live up to that nickname tonight. I’m going to put in extra effort.

  I hit the button for the elevator. She comes to stand beside me. I side-step her before she can brush her shoulder against mine. I already can’t stand whatever perfume she has on. It’s invading my senses with its harsh smell and overriding Penelope’s scent, which is still softly lingering in my nose.

  “You made last night an early night.” Brownie pouts from beside me as we wait for the elevator. I swear she stomps her foot as if she’s a child not getting her way.

  “Pouting causes wrinkles,” I inform her as I step on to the elevator. I don’t know if that’s true or not but who would want to go on another date with an asshole who points out stupid shit like that? She stands there shocked for a moment. I stare at her as the doors start to close, not bothering to stop them. She reaches her arms out at the last second and blocks them from closing. I was hoping to have a peaceful solo elevator ride but she stomps on to the elevator. I see Tia and Charla watching us. I lift my hand and give them a slight wave with a devilish grin on my face. Charla can make me go but she can’t make me be civilized.

  “We can make it an even earlier night then,” Brownie says. Thank fuck. She wants to cancel. This is easier than I thought it was going to be. Before I know what’s happening she grabs the card key from my hand that I use to gain access to the elevator. It’s the only way to get to the top floor. The key also makes sure when I use it that there are no stops. It takes me straight to the floor of my choosing. She hits the top floor to my place. I grab the card from her hand.

  “I want a steak.”

  “You said an early night. We can order you a steak and then you can have your way with me. We can get straight to the point.” She smirks.

  The chub I was sporting from the lingering smell of this mysterious Penelope goes away completely. I don’t know why I even have one over her to begin with. I’ve never met the girl. Charla makes it a point to try and hire women she doesn’t think will have a shred of interest in me romantically. She’s likely three times my age.

  “This is really what you want?” I sigh. “I’m an asshole who keeps forgetting your name,” I tell her in all honesty. “This is how I am. There is no changing me if that’s what you’re thinking. That you can get me to fall for you-“ I stop myself short from saying because of your pussy. I’m not going to be that much of a bastard. “Fall in love with you and change. It’s not going to happen.” I make a quick change of words.

  “We both know why we are here and I have no problem with that.” She licks her red-painted lips and I wonder if that tastes gross. What is lipstick even made of?

  She turns, placing a hand on my chest and causing my whole body to stiffen at the contact. “I’ll fuck you good. Look good on your arm and stay out of your way. Daddy will be happy and then in a few weeks you can get me a ring and we move on from there. Just like any of your other business deals. Everyone gets what they want.” She smiles as if she’s doing me a favor. I would rather quit my job and move back home than live my life with this woman.

  That sounds like nothing I’ll ever want. The elevator door opens with a small ding. I have no need for any of the things that Brownie is offering. I don’t need to be married and I don’t care to be involved in any social scenes. I only make an appearance when it helps my career. Otherwise I can give a shit if I ever rub shoulders with any of these people again. Good people are few and far between when it comes to these social groups. I don’t have the time or the need to weed them out. I’d rather put my head down and work.

  “Trust me. I get my mouth around your cock and you’ll be begging me to marry you.”

  Why doesn’t she already have a ring then? is the first thought that pops into my head. I almost say it but stop myself. My eyes jerk up at the sound of a gasp to see a tiny little thing standing in the entryway to my condo. Her hair is up in a giant mass of curls that are falling out of the bun. Her hands reach up to try to keep them secure. She’s in a simple white shirt and a pair of those tight pants. I think people refer to them as yoga pants. She’s holding a bag of trash in one hand that probably weighs more than her. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life. I’m stunned by her presence. Her scent hits me a moment later, causing me to take a deep breath. I don’t have to ask; I know immediately who this vision is that’s standing in front of me.

  This is my Penelope.

  4

  Penelope

  I stand there in shock, not sure if I heard the woman correctly. She just offered blow jobs and marriage in the same sentence. She said it as if she was pitching herself or something. I cringe inside at her words. It makes me feel sorry for her. That her idea of marriage is skewed to believe that it’s a business deal. I know she’s not the same woman that Mr. Jackson keeps a picture of on his deck. This woman looks like she stepped off a runway and is ready for a night out on the town. The picture of the girl on his desk portrays someone who is soft and s
weet. She also looks around my age. Now that I look at Mr. Jackson, I think maybe the woman in the picture is his sister. Staring at his handsome face, I can see the resemblance. That has to be it because nothing about his home screams that a woman has been here for any amount of time.

  If this is even Mr. Jackson standing in front of me. I’m guessing it has to be. Charla told me he wouldn’t be back until later tonight, though, so I’m not sure. I am almost done cleaning his place up. I am in the midst of taking out one of the last bags I’ve collected of to-go boxes. His office is almost as bad as his kitchen. At least he cleaned every bite out of them. I can’t imagine how this place would smell if he’d left food inside of them to rot. It makes more sense to me considering the size of him that he would eat every bit. He is big all over. Well, all the places I can see anyway. I feel my cheeks flush at my dirty thoughts. He’s thick from his neck to his arms and right down to those thighs that are straining against his dress pants. He makes the runway model with her four-inch heels look tiny next to him. I remind myself to act professionally. I need this job and can’t jeopardize it over his looks. He’s probably a jerk anyway.

  “Hi,” I say when no one bothers to speak to me. I know my face is flushed from my own thoughts as well as their talk about blowjobs, but they could at least introduce themselves. The woman spares me a dismissive look as if she’s doing me a favor. I immediately dislike her but I keep the friendly smile on my face because I’m not sure what role she plays here yet. I don’t need to make any enemies on my first day.

  “You’re not coming into my place.” Mr. Jackson looks down at the woman. “No one comes to my home.” Her lips purse and her eyes immediately flick back to me. She looks back to him with her eyebrow raised.