It just went on like that until we were both laughing as I backed Woody out of his driveway, him signaling me with the hand to the ear gesture for “Call me.” The Blackstone men had a strong protective streak, and I felt very fortunate to be at the center of their care. My life had been rather bereft of male presence for a long time, and this felt good.
The time difference between Boston and Abu Dhabi was nine hours, which made calls with Caleb difficult, so we texted mostly. After I got back to the cottage, I dutifully called Lucas before getting ready for bed and bringing my phone with me. Once I was settled under my covers, I calculated the time in Abu Dhabi to be seven thirty in the morning, which was actually a good time to catch him if I was going to have any shot at all, because he would probably be up and starting his day.
B: I had dinner with Lucas tonight so you can stop worrying about me.
C: I already told you that would be impossible, baby. But do you miss me?
B: Always, Caleb. <3
C: I bought you something today I can’t wait to give you.
B: I have something I cannot wait to give you, too. *blushing*
C: Is my Brooke sexting me? Please say yes, and send me a picture of your naked tits so I can make it thru this dreadful day.
I’d never done it before, but that didn’t stop me. I stripped off my pajamas and selfied myself naked in the mirror for my man. It was a side shot, but I was naked, and Caleb would know it once he saw it. I held my breath and pressed Send.
B: Here you go, but only one is showing. My first sext ever! And you are the lucky recipient! I have to go to sleep now but I will dream of you. Miss you tons. xoxo –Brooke <3
I tried to imagine him looking at the picture I’d just sent him, and even though we were separated by thousands of miles, I could feel him close to me in that moment. I waited for his response before I put my phone away.
It came instantly and made my heart flutter inside my chest.
C: You are fucking beautiful and I miss you much more now . . . thank you for the picture. I will be right there in your dreams, Brooke . . . and I’m never leaving. You’re stuck with me now, baby. –C xx
I am sure I fell asleep smiling, replaying his words over and over again in my head.
CALEB’S personal assistant was nothing like I’d imagined her to be. She was young and beautiful, with long dark hair and blue eyes, but with the no-nonsense personality of someone much older than what could only be early twenties. Kind of like my nan, if I had to put a person to it. She wasn’t rude or obnoxious, but she was all business when she dropped off the keys and alarm codes to the penthouse at Harris & Goode on Monday. I didn’t miss the diamond engagement ring she was wearing on her left hand, either. I couldn’t help that part, I suppose, when meeting my boyfriend’s beautiful personal assistant for the first time. Knowing she was engaged to someone else did not hurt. She also gave me her personal cell number, insisting I call if I needed anything at all. Victoria told me she shared the twelfth floor with her brother, James, in the same building as Caleb’s penthouse, so she was close if I ever needed her.
So weird—the PA thing—having someone to do the tasks that ninety-nine percent of the population did for themselves. Like pick up dry cleaning, drop off keys, and order flowers for the girl who trashed her boss’s suit with shrimp cocktail. I thanked Victoria for her choice of the red peonies and showed her how well they were thriving in my office.
That earned me a smile and a sincere, “You’re very welcome.”
ON Wednesday, Eduardo and I worked at the penthouse, measuring everything and finishing up the initial programming. Before starting any project there needed to be an inventory of the existing furniture, and some analysis to identify the positive attributes of the space, as well as any potential problems. I could hardly concentrate on the job, though.
Because Caleb was coming back tonight, and I’d see him again in just a few hours.
“That’s the last of the measurements for this room. I’m thinking we’ll start in here before moving on to the kitchen,” I said as Eduardo packed up the equipment. “It’s really a huge job, and since he’s given me absolutely no solid plans for what he wants, I’m flying a little blind here.”
Eduardo looked up from his phone and smirked. “Because he’s much more interested in giving you his solid cock until you go a little blind, condesa. Just warm up the color palette and buy some pieces that are fuck friendly and he will be very happy, trust me.” He nodded enthusiastically.
“My God, Eduardo.” I scowled at him, and even though I’d never admit to it, he was probably right.
“I can design this shit in my sleep, I tell you. All a man thinks about when it comes to designs and décor is if it can be used for sex. Make sure there are many places for him to play pound the punani with you in here and he will love it. As I said before, fuck friendly should be your theme for the whole—”
“Hello?” a feminine voice sounded behind me, and I cringed at what she might have just overheard.
I whipped around with a smile plastered to my face and met the voice. I was sure whoever it was had just gotten an earful. “Brooke Casterley, from Harris & Goode Designs for Mr. Black-s-stone,” I stammered, “and this is my assistant, Eduardo Ramos.”
“Winter Blackstone, Caleb’s sister. I just wanted to meet the woman who has captivated my brother,” she said with a grin, “and don’t worry, because I absolutely didn’t hear a single thing that was said just now.”
Oh, I like you, Winter Blackstone. She was still just as lovely as I remembered—dark-brown hair and green eyes with the same gold rings around the iris as Caleb had around his blue ones. The Blackstone children had genetically unusual eyes it seemed. We shook hands and chatted easily, and after her comment about not overhearing Eduardo’s outrageousness about fuck-friendly designing, I could have kissed her. Jesus, so embarrassing, but she put me completely at ease—as if it hadn’t happened. So I had the privilege of meeting another Blackstone sibling. Well, meeting her for the second time, because technically we’d met eight years ago at her birthday party.
“I remember you at my sixteenth birthday,” she said.
“Oh, I remember the party. You were very kind and sat with me.”
“We talked about the Jonas Brothers and watched the others playing chicken fight in the pool.”