Unexpected Chances Page 4

  ****

  Carter

  Tabitha shivers in my arms, I’m not sure if it’s from fear or my touch. I’m sure it’s from the fear of the unknown, the fact that she was dancing with a stranger.

  When she turns around and looks up at me, those green eyes of her almost bring me to my knees. They captivate me, almost as if she’s casting a spell on me.

  I watch as she licks her lips. This simple act makes me want to taste them. I need to see if they are as good as they look.

  They’re pink and swollen; she must have been biting them as we were dancing. The image in my head of her biting her lips as she screams out my name from underneath me.

  Just as I have the perfect picture in my head, I feel a slap across my face. The force knocks my head to the side. As I bring myself back to look at her, I see why her friends call her, Firecracker.

  She fires off at me, “What the hell gives you the right to think you can just walk up and dance with me? You don’t know me? How the shit fire did you even know where I would be?”

  All I can say is, “Calm down, Tabby Cat I can explain.”

  Just as I get it out, she pushes me to the side. That guy that’s hitting on her all night has come to the rescue.

  I size him up, just in case he throws the first blow. I know he’s throwing them back hard tonight, so, I’m not worried that I can hold my own with this one.

  Standing off to the side where Tabitha pushed me to, I watch as she tries to rein him in. She seems to be a pro at handling situations like this one.

  I can feel my crotch tighten, just by watching her. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen a woman do.

  Hell, I’ve seen some sexy things in my past. But her, she’s different. Even as I watched her drink and laugh tonight with her friends, I found it sexy. Once she got on this dance floor tonight and started to move, I about lost it.

  Tabitha’s calmed down the grump for now, and I watch him stalk off the floor.

  “Who’s the guy?” I ask, and can tell she doesn’t want to answer me, but she does.

  “That’s one of my friends, not that it’s any business of yours.”

  I notice her take in her surroundings, almost as if she’s getting prepared for another round. Her shoulders stiffen as she starts to walk away.

  I reach out and grab her arm, “Can I talk to you a moment?”

  She might as well have told me to fuck off. It’s okay; I’ll allow her to walk away from me, for now.

  Standing in the middle of the dance floor, I watch her make it back over to her table. As she gets settled, I make my way over to the corner booth. I have to make sure he doesn’t give her a hard time.

  I vowed to myself when she walked away that if he does, she’s leaving with me. I’m to the point that I’m not above throwing her over my shoulder, and tossing her smart ass in the back of a cab.

  The guy that I’ve learned is Cory, steps up to her. I watch as he lifts her chin up to look at him. I need to know what he’s saying to my, Tabby Cat.

  The look on her face is as if he’s breaking her little by little.

  I’ll get Jack to look into this guy, and see what the history is with them.

  For now, I’ll watch, but not for long. Tabitha Jean Michaelson will be mine, sooner, rather than later.

  Following them out into the night. It’s as if I’m stalking her, but then when thinking about it, I guess I am.

  They flag down a cab, and I watch as he instructs the driver where to go. Tabitha starts to step into the back of the cab, but looks up at me. Our eyes lock onto each other’s. I can’t bring myself to look away from her; it’s as if she’s telling me something.

  I’m not sure what yet, but I plan to figure it out.

  Chapter Eight

  Tabitha

  Sleep didn’t come easy last night. Now I’m pacing my kitchen at eight in the morning, tapping my oversized mug of coffee.

  I keep going over everything last night, from Cory’s behavior to Carter showing up like he did.

  How did he find me?

  Why would he have the desire to find me?

  How is it that he is all I can think and dream about?

  These are the questions that are running through my head over and over. I need answers, but how do I get them.

  I’d had enough of my apartment for the morning. I’m supposed to be off today, but I need to keep myself busy, or I might go insane.

  After a quick shower, I dress to make myself somewhat presentable from only receiving three hours sleep last night. Heading to the office, I know Angela is in, and she’s just the person I need to talk to.

  On the drive over, I realize that she had a meeting this morning in LA and won’t be in until later. With some work to catch up on, especially since my mind has been all over the place I’ll head on in.

  Walking into the office, I remember that I never finished copying the files for Angela’s trip next week.

  I power on the laptop, wait for it to do all the things it does and turn on my music. The need to have background noise, something to drown out my thoughts. I kick on some Justin Timberlake and head to the evil copier.

  Before I hit the button to wake it up, “Are you going to play nice today?” I ask the copier. I find myself waiting for it to answer me. I throw my head back and look up to the dingy ceiling. “God you have really lost it now.”

  I hit the power button as hard as I can to wake it up. I know it’s not the copier’s fault that I’m talking to not only myself, but it as well.

  It makes me mad.

  It hates me.

  One day I’m going to start getting those threating letters with newspaper clipping glued to the paper from this copier. When that happens, I’m buying myself a white straitjacket from ebay and locking myself up in my apartment.

  Sliding the papers into the tray of the copier, I hear one of my favorite songs start. “Mess with me now you shitty copier,” I say, while I start to dance in front of it.

  Hum… Maybe this is what I need to do every time I use it. So far, so good.

  I twirl myself around a few times, still dancing to the music as I watch the copier spit out paper after paper. All of a sudden about 40 sheets rollout all at once.

  “Shit fire… Stop you stupid piece of crap!” I yell at it as I try to power the thing off. “You’re pissing me off. I’m buying a bat and will kill you!” I continue to yell at the thing while it finishes its run through the whole stack of fresh papers I just loaded into the tray.

  “Do you always yell at the thing?” I hear from behind me, causing me to jump back and throw up all the papers I just copied into the air. I stumble back and slip on a pile that’s forming on the floor.

  I stare up at the person who has caused me an early death. Carter’s leaned up against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, and legs crossed. He has an amused look on his face from my little show I can only guess.

  He has that scruffy look going for him this morning.

  “What the hell!”

  “Sorry, I thought you heard me come in and then I noticed that you didn’t,” he says as he walks over to me offering his hand to me.

  I knock his hand away, “I don’t need your help,” I say as I use both of my hands to push myself up from the floor.

  “Fine, but are you always this stubborn?”

  “With you. Yeah, I am.”

  I stomp back over to my desk, laying the stack of papers I gathered up on top of my mess.

  Turning around to ask him something, and I’m taken back by the look of desire that’s written all over his face.

  I backup some, trying to find a way to escape. My backside bumps into the front of my desk, and I hear a thud hit the floor. I look down and notice that the trays stacked up are now on the floor.

  Smelling him before I hear him speak, “You sure do drop a lot of things,” he says, as he reaches over and turns my face to his.

  I can barely suck in the surrounding air, much less spea
k but I manage to get out. “Why are you here, Mr. Northwood?”

  “I’ve told you before to address me as Carter. Please don’t make me feel as if you’re speaking to my father,” he says, as he continues to caress my cheek with this thumb.

  All coherent thoughts are gone. The chills he gave me last night have come back with a force to be reckoned with. I clear my throat and try to push him away. This causes him to slide his hand behind my neck and tighten his grip.

  “Carter then, I feel it’s best for you to let go of me and back away.”

  “I can’t do that,” he lets out, as he lowers his forehead down to rest upon mine.

  I close my eyes and inhale. He smells as good as I’d imagined, a mixture of soap and spice. It’s exhilarating. I can picture myself lost within the bounds of his pleasure.

  “I need you to do that. Please,” saying with my voice lower and weak.

  “I’m sorry for startling you. Do you know that I find you extremely sexy, and I think I could watch you all day long fight with that copier?” He says, in a hushed tone.

  “You can’t say things like this to me, Carter. You’re possibly going to become a client and… and… I don’t get involved with people. Ever.”

  It’s like the words I just said brought him out of his trance.

  Carter drops his hand and slowly backs away. He’s facing backwards, and I can see his shoulders drop in defeat.

  He turns around and looks me dead in the eye, “You make a good point, but I don’t give a shit that I might be a client. Just so you know; you’ll work my account. Figure it out and change who comes to see me next week.”

  “It’s not that easy, you know.”

  “It’s easy. I know you can work this account. Talk to your boss. If I have to sign everything through emails, so be it.”

  “Do you always get your way? Does everyone drop everything for you?” My voice is full of hate. How dare he waltz into my office, turning it into a disaster in his wake? I don’t do well with men trying to control me.

  I walk over to where Carter is standing. I’m fuming from his actions. It's from the way I let my body behave around him.

  Poking my finger into his chest, I push him back a few inches. “You're not the boss of me. You’re the one who walked into my office, and scared the shit out of me. You are the one who stalked me in a bar and tried to get your rocks off by dancing with me.”

  I’m fired up now and I feel my face heating up, I’m pretty sure if I looked in the mirror it’d be red as fire.

  I continue to get my point across as I push him more, “Do all the ladies bow at your feet? I bet they do, don’t they. Sorry to inform you, but I don’t submit. I’m not into your twisted ass games. What you’re going to do is turn and walk out of my office, just as fast as you walked in here. Don’t mess with my job, Mr. Northwood.”

  I stop because I can’t push anymore since his back is up against the evil copier. I look into his eyes, and I get the feeling that my little rant just turned him on. His eyes are hooded as he looks down towards me.

  Hell who am I kidding, I just turned myself on by being all pushy with him.

  Carter crosses his arms against his chest, “You done, yet?”

  “Yes. Yes, I am,” I say, as I try to back away, but he pulls me up into his chest.

  “First off, I don’t have ladies bowing at my feet. Second, you will never submit to me, well unless you want to. Third, this isn’t a game. You are all I can think about, and I hardly know anything about you. That’s the reason you will work my account somehow.”

  Just as he finishes his little speech, and I sense that he’s about to lean down and kiss me, his cellphone starts to ring.

  He releases me and digs his phone out of his back pocket. I watch as he looks at the screen. His face becomes full of hate as he answers, “What!”

  I take this time to lean down and start picking up the papers from where the copier exploded. Staying close enough to eavesdrop on his conversation.

  “I told you already that I would meet you. What part of it didn’t you get?” Whatever. Listen I have to go, and yes I plan to be back in time.

  Not sure what to think from hearing this side of the conversation, but I’d hate to be the one he’s meeting tonight.

  “Let me help you with this mess?” I hear, as I watch him bend down to gather papers with me.

  “I’ve got this. Don’t you have a plane to catch or something?”

  “I do but… Tabitha, look at me.”

  I look up at him and Carter’s face is full of unhappiness. I’ve never seen a person be able to reflect their feelings through their eyes as I have Carter’s.

  “Again, I’m sorry for being all stalker as you call it. But you need to know it’s not like that. Email me when you can on the schedule and plan.”

  I can’t say anything so in return I nod my head in confirmation. Carter stands and heads toward the door. I’m watching him exit like a hawk watches its prey. Once he reaches the door, he turns his head to look me over. I notice he takes me in as if it might be the last time he ever sees me again.

  As the door closes behind him, and I no longer can see Carter, I fall onto my butt. The papers still scattered around and I can’t breathe. Carter Northwood just took all of my air supply when he left me here.

  ****

  Carter

  Standing in the parking lot next to my car, I lean back against the hard metal and look up to the sky. Running my hands down my face, “What the hell are you doing, Carter,” I ask myself out loud.

  As I try to pull it together, my phone rings again. Not bothering to look to see whose calling, I know its Bethany again. She has this sixth sense on when to call and mess up my life.

  If she didn't call when she did, I’m pretty sure, I’d still be in that office devouring those pink lips.

  I’ve never cheated on Bethany or stepped out of our arrangement. This just feels different. I have a need to see what this pull to her is and why. I’ll need to make a mental note to call my lawyer Richard when I get back to the office this afternoon. We need to figure out what the holdup is and how to move things along.

  I’m tired of being the guy on her arm. I’ve kept my end of the bargain up, and now it’s time for me to take my life back. If I could turn back the clocks and go back in time, I would. I’d never have agreed to marry Bethany. No amount of control or money would make me sign on that dotted line again.

  What I’ve built in my company is mine and mine alone. The funny thing is, once she realizes that the money I received is still in the bank. The joke will be on her and her whole damn family.

  Today I’m starting my life over. A new and improved Carter Northwood which will include Tabitha in it. All I have to do now is convince her of the same thing.

  Chapter Nine:

  Tabitha

  “What the hell happened in here?” I hear my best friend, Angela ask me. She’s returned from her meeting, and I need to pull it together before she notices anything is different with me.

  Shrugging it all off, “Oh you know me and that stupid machine hate each other.”

  “Are you okay? You’re all flushed, and I don’t know. Plus, why are you here?”

  “I’m fine. Might be coming down with something, don’t worry. Oh, I forgot to copy your papers for the trip this week. So I wanted to make sure I had everything ready for you,” I explain, as I watch as she notices my trays from my desk on the floor.

  “How did the copier destroy your desk as well?”

  “That was all me. It started spitting papers everywhere, and I knocked those over as I ran over to stop it,” I continue to explain, as I look down to the ground. Angela and I have known each other since our freshman year in college. She can read me like an open book. It’s a chapter I need her to skip over.

  “Okay, but just so you know you’re acting all weird. You want to talk about anything?”

  I know I should talk to her but what will I say. Oh yeah by the way I know I�
��m your assistant and all but your new client Carter Northwood would like me to take it over so he can get in my pants.

  Nope.

  She would lose her shit if I told her about this. This is one thing that I’ll have to keep to myself. I’m sure it will work itself out.

  No reason to cause a dramatic meeting or anything over this. I can hold my own when it comes to men. Always have and always will.

  Yes, that is what I’ll continue to tell myself.

  I might need to write it down on sticky notes and label my whole office and apartment. If I read it enough times, it has to be true.

  After picking up the crap from the floor that knocked over this morning, I make my way into Angela’s office.

  “You ready for your trip to New York?”

  “Just another trip. No big deal other than I’d love to land this account,” she says, as she’s typing out an email to someone.

  “Any word from the douche bag?”

  “Tabitha, really. When are you ever going to call my husband by his given name?”

  “That’s his given name. It’s the one I gave him.”

  “I guess I’ll never understand why you two hate each other so much.”

  I shrug, “Probably not,” as I prop my feet up on the corner of her desk, just to drive her a bit nutty today. “Oh, have you looked into Logan Black yet?” I ask, as I wiggle my eyebrows up and down.

  “No. You know I don’t care, and I don’t read the gossip that you do.”

  “Oh, you should. The things I could do to that playboy should be illegal.”

  “Just to him?”

  “Well, most guys, it’s a crime. You know.”

  Sitting here with my feet propped up I’m happy that I work for Angela. Who else would let you kill the copier, relax and have a chat. This is what we always end up doing when she’s in the office. Since she travels so much, I never get to see her. We email and text daily, but sitting here having a conversation is what I miss.

  I notice she’s stopped typing and I look over at her. She’s tired. I keep trying to get her to slow down, but she will not hear of it.