Chasing Fate (Dark Love 5)

“Interesting, I only met her today. A feisty Brit at that.”

“She’s fun. Not as uptight as Presley and Charlie. I think they have this need to protect her from the awful men lurking around Manhattan. They’re forever on her back and don’t seem to get that she’s a free spirit. Doesn’t care what people think, just does what makes her happy.”

Interesting way to describe Kate. She comes across as fun-loving and relaxed, not one of those women desperate to get married and have babies. Maybe that’s why I like her—I don’t feel this unwarranted pressure around her.

“Look, I’m gathering that you’re hooking up with someone tonight, so don’t worry about drinks. Seriously, I totally get it.”

I don’t want to tell him it’s Kate. Having only just met Haden, I don’t know if he’d encourage me to spend time with her or warn me against it. Despite what he’s just said, people have a funny way of reacting to things, and it’s best to keep it on the down-low for now.

“Someone invited me to some bar in Malibu, but it’s no trouble.”

“I’m not getting in the way of a man and a hook-up. Trust me…” He laughs. “We’ll have drinks later this week. I’ll try to convince Lex to come out, but knowing him, he’ll be out of town as usual.”

Haden turns his screen around to further explain how the business operates, including an organizational chart of how the company is structured. He then speaks about the top ten authors and upcoming releases. I recognize Julian Baker, having read his work, only remembering now Charlie mentioning him years ago. If I recall, and again, when it comes to other people’s love life, I barely pay attention, Charlie was dating him when she and I were in Hawaii for a wedding.

I spend the remainder of the day being shown the ropes and meeting the team. By six o’clock, I’m done. Haden gives me a ride back home, giving us more of an opportunity to talk about the company. The traffic’s awful, leaving me with not much time to shower and change into something more casual.

The next dilemma is finding my mode of transportation. I want to use Charlie’s bike, and it takes a lot of convincing, especially because it’s her baby. After a long lecture on road safety, she finally hands me the keys.

It’s bumper-to-bumper traffic to Malibu. Some dick lost his load causing a major traffic jam. Thank God I’m riding her bike, swerving in and out of th

e traffic to avoid further delays. The last time I had ridden was back in college—a bike Tom’s parents bought him for his twenty-first birthday. I push away the unwarranted memory, focusing back on the road.

By the time I arrive, I head for the bar, and couldn’t be happier to have a drink in my hand. I know I have to consume less so I can ride back home.

Moving through the crowd, I notice Kate sitting out on the big deck staring across the ocean. She’s wearing the same clothes as this morning, but her expression looks bleak. Nothing at all like the fun-loving Kate I saw earlier today or the one Haden described.

Same look.

Same story.

Someone has broken her.

That guy. The one with the big balls.

Ugh.

Charlie warned me—not once, but twice—to be on my best behavior. Focus on my career and not on women, especially ones in her circle of friends.

I try not to come across as a stalker, though I’m half covered by a large bush watching her from afar. Not at all stalker-like, you idiot.

I observe the way she quietly sits at the table with her cell in front of her. It appears to be a distraction. As if on autopilot, she picks it up, stares at the screen, places it down, then repeats minutes later. Her foot taps impatiently under the table causing her skirt to ride up. She doesn’t appear bothered, allowing it to do so, then on second thought, she pulls it slightly down again.

I amble toward her until I’m by her side.

“Hello, stranger.”

“‘Bout time you got here, Mr. Mason,” she greets with an upbeat cheer. “Time to have some fun.”

“What do you have in mind?”

She grabs my hand and a large purse, pulling me through the not-so-crowded bar until we find ourselves on the footpath leading to the sand. As if in a mad rush, her heels click against the concrete until we reach the end of the path where the sand leads to the ocean. Bending down while holding onto my shoulder, she removes her shoes, her bare feet now touching the soft sand.

The sun has set, the sky darkening with a hint of pink. With her hand pulling me near the shore, she settles on a spot beside a metal lifeguard chair. My body jerks toward the ground as she pulls me down with her and removes a bottle of tequila from her purse.

Opening the lid, she takes a drink, letting out a roar as the tequila makes its way down her throat. “Goodbye,” she shouts, holding the bottle up to the sky. “Too bad decisions and wankers who need to get a fucking life!” She takes another drink.

I warn her to slow down, attempting to pull the bottle from her hand.