Fated (7 page)

"I
need you to come in early on Monday. I have a meeting with my agent at eight
o'clock and I want you to be present."

"Sure,
no problem." I would have agreed to coming in at the crack of dawn if it
meant escaping the office. Michelle was becoming bolder in her advances,
wrapping an arm around Caden's waist and pressing her perky breasts against his
arm. One of her hands reached up and started rubbing his chest, and I had to
suppress my gag reflex.

I
grabbed my purse and shot them a forced smile. "Nice meeting you,
Michelle. Have a good weekend."

I
barely registered Michelle's wave of her fingers and Caden's inscrutable
expression before shutting the door behind me.

It was
a relief when I got home and climbed the stairs to the third floor. I had been
tense all week and now I would have two whole days where I didn't have to
constantly wonder what Caden was thinking as he watched me.

I
unlocked the door and dropped my purse onto the kitchen table, immediately
taking off my heels. I still felt like a guest in Macie's apartment, and I took
care to keep it as neat as possible, although ironically it was neater than
when Macie actually lived there since she wasn't that concerned with tidiness.

Macie's
apartment was the antithesis of my apartment back in Chicago. It was cluttered
with framed photos and souvenirs from trips. Her studio was warm, cozy and
welcoming and I envied the effortless way she had transferred her own personal
style to the apartment.

The
best word to describe my apartment in Chicago was blank. Unlived in. Sure, it
was neat but there were no pictures cluttering tabletops, no trinkets that had
been acquired on long weekends or trips abroad personalizing the space. I
didn't consider myself a cold person, but I often found myself standing on the
sidelines of life, finding it difficult to become an active participant. I
sometimes felt like I had never learned how to express my emotions properly.
When I watched how easily some people moved through life, expressing love and
gratitude, feeling sorrow and pain, getting angry and hurt, I was jealous. They
lived without questioning their right to these emotions, without wondering if
they were expressing them correctly. I didn't understand how to just live and
be.

But
currently I was experiencing a gamut of emotions and I didn't understand how to
process them. I didn't think I felt actual jealousy when I saw Michelle draping
herself all over Caden, but I was aware of a pinprick of unhappiness when I saw
their obvious familiarity. I knew Caden was my boss, and despite whatever
slight interest he may have shown in me, he and I were from two different
worlds. I had no fairy tale aspirations of being swept off my feet, especially
by a man that was unpredictable and forceful.

I
ate dinner with the TV on, although it was more for background noise than
anything else. The frozen dinner was barely palatable but I finished it anyways.
Afterwards, I found myself growing restless. I was usually perfectly content
with my own company. I enjoyed long stretches of solitude because I didn't have
to worry about whether I was interacting normally with other people. But
tonight I found my thoughts drifting to Caden, wondering what he and Michelle
were doing.

To
get rid of my wayward thoughts, I started perusing Macie's bookshelf for
something to read. I caught sight of a photo album and pulled it out. I smiled
as I flipped through the pages. Macie's broad grin jumped out from the pictures
as she posed with friends and family. I had met Macie's parents and brother a
few times when they had come to visit her in Chicago while we were students at
DePaul, and they were as warm and friendly as she was. I paused at a picture of
the two of us sitting on the steps of our dorm hall on a sunny day, smiling
into the camera. I studied myself critically, not remembering when it had been
taken. I looked happy enough in the picture. My smile didn't look overly bright
and artificial. Sometimes it was hard to determine where my real emotions
started and my forced reactions to appear normal ended.

Life
in the foster care system had not been easy. Initially, my caseworker thought
it would be a breeze to place me in a foster home and eventually get me
adopted. I was a cute eight-year-old girl who had tragically lost her parents,
with no extended family that would step up to the responsibility of raising a
young child. But my caseworker hadn't taken into account my rebellious
attitude. One emotion I had never had trouble expressing was anger. And it
wasn't the anger of an eight-year-old. It was the anger of someone who had been
cheated, who had been given a blessed life only to have it snatched away. My
early foster parents hadn't been able to handle such a severe and adult emotion
from a little girl with ponytails and big blue eyes.

Then
came the group homes, where I realized that I was naive in thinking that I had
it so bad. I met kids there that came from situations that no child should ever
have to hear about, let alone live. But it was too late. I was already labeled
difficult and was deemed a challenge to place.

I
soon found out there were homes out there that were looking for someone exactly
like me. I was ten years old when I was placed in my next foster home. From the
ages of ten to eighteen, I was moved from foster home to foster home,
interspersed with various group homes. The best foster homes were the ones
where I was ignored. The worst were the ones where I wasn't.

I
pushed away the dark thoughts. I had to continually remind myself that I was in
control of my life now. No one had the power to tell me what to do or say. The
problem was, I wasn't sure if
I
knew what to do or say.

I
sighed and powered up my laptop, intending to check my personal email, but
instead I found myself typing Caden's name in the search engine online. I had
resisted looking him up before, since I didn't feel the need to know anything
about his personal or professional life, but the more time I spent with him,
the more curious I became.

I
scrolled through the various articles, clicking on the most recent ones. I knew
that Caden's latest collection had stirred controversy, but I didn't realize to
what degree until I read that his works had been banned from several large and
well-known galleries and museums. But that had only worked to increase his
notoriety, and many smaller, independently-owned galleries were clamoring to
show his work.

I
clicked on a review of Caden's latest collection, and my reaction was visceral
when I saw several of his photographs featured in the article. My stomach
dropped and my mouth became dry as I stared at the women caught in the peak of
climax. Some of the photographs included their faces, while others featured
just a portion of their bodies, sometimes making it difficult to recognize what
part of the human form it was. But all of them had a raw power and sensuality
that couldn't be denied. Bodies were bowed out in primal poses, limbs extended
and reaching for something just outside their grasp. Mouths were stretched
open, eyes squeezed shut and faces tensed in pleasure.

My
breaths grew shallow as I studied the pictures. Some of the photos were in
black and white and some of them were in color, but all of them made my pulse
quicken erratically. Sensuality was something I shied away from. Sure, I had
sex, but that was all part of the act of being normal. Normal people had sex
and enjoyed it, so I would too, although sexual enjoyment was an ephemeral
experience that had been hard for me to grasp. But this...the worship of the
female form in its most primal act, was foreign to me. Yet I couldn't deny the
excitement strumming through my body, my eyes transfixed by the carnal images
before me.

I
quickly closed the laptop, pressing my legs together as I felt an unfamiliar
heat shoot through me. I had been aroused before and I had experienced orgasms
before, but I had never felt this white hot heat that was suffusing my entire
body, making every nerve-ending feel raw and exposed and aching for relief.

I
didn't let myself think about what I was doing when I slipped under the covers
of the bed and slid my hand down under my panties. I already knew what I would
find when my fingers caressed my slickened folds, having felt the wetness
rushing between my legs when I first started looking at Caden's photographs.

I
imagined that I was the woman in one of the photographs, experiencing pleasure
with no boundaries, as my fingers started rubbing my clit that was already
swollen to the point of painful sensitivity. My mind pushed further, morphing
from being a woman in a static picture to Caden taking pictures of me, his
presence pushing me even closer to the edge. I touched myself, made myself moan
with urgent pleasure, as Caden leaned over me, the camera between us as he
captured every nuance of my frantic sensual awakening. He was breathing
heavily, intensely affected by my arousal as he abandoned his camera on the
floor, no longer willing to be a spectator but needing to be an active
participant.

I
cried out, arching my back as my fingers took me to the precipice, wanting so
badly to let myself fall but feeling terrified to open a door I had closed for
my own safety. I couldn't resist anymore when Caden reached down to me, his
face tight with arousal and his amber eyes burning with desire. I fell apart
when his thumb grazed my lower lip in a light caress, and he leaned down to
kiss me, swallowing my cries of ecstasy.

Chapter Six

I
was dreading Monday morning, but despite my fervent wish that it would take a
long time to come, it had the indecency to arrive right on time. I tried to
scrub my mind of what I had fantasized about Friday night while bringing myself
to the most powerful orgasm I had ever experienced, but it was like trying to
forget how to breathe. It was impossible.

I
just hoped my face didn't betray all the emotions bubbling underneath the
surface. When I arrived at the office, Caden was already there, although it was
only seven-thirty. Despite dreading coming into work, I had wanted to arrive
early to give myself some time to prepare myself before seeing Caden in the
office. Unfortunately he made that impossible.

"Good
morning," I announced cheerily, covering my disappointment when I caught
sight of him.

"Lauren,"
Caden greeted with a nod as his eyes followed me as I walked to my desk.

I
sat down and studiously avoided looking in Caden's direction as I turned on my
computer. I hadn't expected the rush of images that had flitted through my mind
when I saw him, bringing the memories of Friday night to the forefront. I
didn't think I could be foolish enough to have a crush on my boss, but I didn't
know how else to explain my emotions. I told myself that Caden was partly to
blame with his suggestive looks and probing questions, although most likely I
was placing too much meaning onto them.

I
was surprised that the calla lilies on my desk still looked so healthy, but it
was another reminder that Caden was an enigma. Sometimes he barely spoke to me,
and other times he paid me so much attention that it was uncomfortable.

"Lauren,
I'd like a moment with you."

I
jumped guiltily at Caden's voice, as if he could read my mind and knew I was
thinking about him. I pasted a pleasant smile on my face as I walked over and
sat down in front of his desk.

"Sure,
what would you like to go over?"

"How
was your weekend?" The intensity of Caden's gaze belied the casual tone of
his question.

"Good,
thanks. How was yours?" I asked the question automatically, expecting a
canned answer in return.

"I
spent most of it working, except for Michelle." There was a gleam in his
eye that made me think he was trying to make me feel uncomfortable on purpose.

"That's
too bad, although at least you got to spend some time with your girlfriend. She
seemed very nice. Very
friendly.
"

Let's see how you
like that
, I thought. It was time I
started reciprocating the nosiness.

Instead
of looking annoyed, Caden smiled widely. "Yes, Michelle is very friendly,
although she's not my girlfriend."

I
shrugged. "I guess that's why she doesn't get flowers."

Caden's
smile faded. "Yes, that's why she doesn't get flowers." He leaned
forward in his chair. "I need you to work this Saturday."

"Okay,"
I agreed immediately, since I knew overtime was part of the job. "What time
should I get here?"

"You
won't be working in the office. I need you to accompany me to Greenwood
Gallery's opening party. It's more of a networking event than anything else.
I'll pick you up at seven o'clock. The attire is formal."

"Why
do I have to go with you? What do you need me there for?" Maybe it wasn't
wise to sound so belligerent, but I felt a flutter of anticipation deep in my
belly that scared me.

Caden
sighed. "Lauren, you have to remember that you're not just my admin.
You're my personal assistant. I need you there to make sure I have everything I
need. I told you when you started that this isn't a nine-to-five job."

I
wanted to argue but I swallowed my protests. Having no experience as a personal
assistant, I didn't know whether it was normal to be your boss's date. I struck
down that thought as soon as I had it. He didn't say I would be his date. For
all I knew, I would be trailing behind him and Michelle.