Caged (4 page)

Chapter Eight

A week later, I still haven’t heard from her. Yes, I have her cell on that little piece of paper Tonya gave me the day I met her tucked in my wallet, but she made it clear she didn’t want to see me, so I haven’t contacted her. I check my phone constantly to see if somehow I’ve missed her call or maybe a text, but am always disappointed.

              “Any messages for me?” I ask for the tenth time since walking in the door today.

              “No, Sasha. Not in the five minutes since you last asked. Who is it that you’re expecting to hear from? You’ve been acting really strange since you last went to the mill. Has that place finally cracked you too?” Tonya’s joking but she has no clue how close to right she actually is.

              I don’t respond and make my way back to my office. I have a ton of showings this afternoon and need to get in gear. I can’t make a living hanging out behind my desk. Just as I’m about to walk out my door to meet a client, Tonya walks in with a huge grin on her face holding a stack of papers.

              “Is this what you have been waiting for?” She waves the papers in the air.

              “I haven’t been waiting on anything. What is that?”

              “This is a full price offer on the mill from Claire Weston.”

              “What? Seriously?” I’m dumbfounded.

              “Serious. Full price. She’s not asking for anything other than to close in ten days. She’s paying cash.”

              I sit down in my chair unsure of what to make of this. I don’t want to read into this. I didn’t get the impression she liked the space, I never expected her to make an offer on the building.

              “Please call Ms. Weston and let her know I have showings all afternoon but I will call her when I get back in the office, but it might be after five.” Tonya nods her understanding and walks out. I hear her grumbling about how I should be more excited to finally unload the possessed building. Normally I’d laugh at her but I’m so confused at this point I shake it off and walk to my car.

              I lose hours in showings and Claire Weston is the furthest thing from my mind until I walk back in to the offer sitting on my desk. I hesitate picking up the phone and decide I’m putting too much thought into this. She’s making an offer on the property, that’s it, end of story. This is no different than any other client.

              “Claire,” I confirm when she answers.

              “Yes,” the ice princess is back.

              “Sasha Maxwell.”

              “Hey!” her voice instantly changing back to the affection it held when we left the mill that night.

              “I hope you’re well. I received your offer on the mill. Is there anything you want to add to it before I contact Elsie to present it to her?”

              “No, although I would like immediate access to it so I can start having contractors come in. No renovations would take place before closing, obviously, but I really don’t want to lose the time between now and then.”

              “Certainly. I’m sure Elsie will be agreeable. I’ll get back in touch with you shortly, although I can’t imagine there will be any counter.”

              “I look forward to hearing from you. Goodbye.”

              “Bye.”

And just like that she’s gone. No mention of wanting to see me or that she has been thinking about me. Fuck, I sound like a woman on the rag. I don’t do hearts and butterflies, but damn, this woman has me unraveled. Why the hell do I care? I spent one night with her trapped in an elevator, albeit one amazing fucking night, but still one night.

              Elsie acts if she already know the offer was coming and shoos me away with a flurry of yeses and of courses, telling me she’ll be here in about five minutes to sign the contract. Minutes later I hear the bell on the door and her crazy old face peeking in my office. “Hey, Sasha.” Ushering herself in, she sits in the chair facing my desk, “I can’t wait to hear the details.”

              “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I’m following you. What details? The contract is pretty straightforward, full cash offer to close in ten days. Although she would like access to the building to allow contractors in.”

              “Oh dear, I don’t care about the contract. I already told you I would sign it. I want to know about your night with Ms. Weston.” I’m pushing the papers across my desk for her to sign when she finishes her sentence. I stop, stunned, looking up at her. There’s a cunning gleam in her eye.

              “How did you know I spent the night with her?” I hadn’t told a soul about that showing. No one knew about us being stuck in the elevator or anything that took place, at least no one I was aware of. “Have you spoken with Claire?”

              “Gracious no. But I hear she is quite a lovely girl once you get past the cool exterior.” Still grinning from ear to ear, she already knows the answer to her question, and the look she’s giving me tells me she knows in great detail what took place.

              “Elsie, I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but I’m sure it’s not quite like what took place.”

              “I told you there was a buyer who would come along; one who was perfect and that you would be the one to sell the building to her. Let’s just call it an old woman’s intuition.” She winks at me. Holy shit. She winked at me!

              “Um, she is quite an attractive young lady and I’m sure she will be the perfect buyer.”

              “Sasha, don’t let pride stand in your way. Some women need to be pursued and not do the pursuing. There’s always
one
that’s worth the chance.” She signs the paperwork in all the appropriate places and pats my hand. I watch her weathered fingers squeeze mine, “Treat her like a princess.”

Chapter Nine

My intention was to wait until the closing and ask her if she wanted to go to dinner that night, but I don’t make it that long. I went home after Elsie left my office and stared at the walls, listened to the silence, and thought about how much I had enjoyed my night with Claire in the elevator, how much I wanted to repeat i
t—
not just the sex, but the company. The lure of her mint green eyes, her infectious laugh, the glow of her skin, Jesus, I’m in way over my head.

              She had mentioned that night she worked late hours for her father, I hope tonight is one of those nights; because I would much rather show up at her office than on her doorstep, like some stray dog. When I pull up in front of Weston Wealth Management, I see an entire floor of lights still on and pray that it’s her. I push the button on the intercom at the door and wait for a reply. When I don’t get one, I push the button again, holding it longer this time. When I release it, the speaker cracks at me, then the cold voice, “Yes?”

              “Princess?” I say firmly with a hint of sarcasm.

              “Sasha?”

              “You going to let me in?”

              “Oh sorry. Yes!” The door buzzes indicating the lock has been released. I enter the lobby waiting for her to join me. Moments later she opens the door. My heart starts to race, my palms sweat, and I realize I have no plan. None whatsoever. I did not think this out; I just got in my car and drove over here. “Is everything alright?”

              “Yes.” I open my mouth several times to say something but nothing comes out other than air. “I, uh.” Still nothing. “Claire,
I…
.” This is ridiculous. “Fuck!” I drag my hands through my hair before looking back at her face, smiling at me. She knows. And she’s enjoying it. She crosses her ankles and clasps her hands in front of her in a demure schoolgirl pose, raising her eyebrows at me. Then it starts to come out. Like vomit, I can’t stop it. “I think about you day and night. I’ve wanted to call you, see you, but I’m not that guy. I don’t let women in but I can’t get you out. I miss your snarky attitude and your submissive sensuality. Claire,” she doesn’t let me finish my sentence, stepping forward, she grabs my face, smashing her lips to mine. Her fingers trail down my neck as I pull her to me.

              Dinner that night turns into dinner every night, and frequently lunch during the week. She closes on the mill, gets all the permits needed to start the renovations, and runs the project from start to finish. I can’t get enough of her, every free moment I have is spent with her.

              It’s been almost a year since that night at the mill. She moved into the third floor loft about three months ago and has been begging me to move in ever since. I spend most of my time there anyhow but I still have a house I go to as well. I pull in behind her in the parking lot, walking hand in hand to the elevator, she pushes the up button, “You know, it would be a lot easier if you just lived here, Sasha. It’s silly to be paying a mortgage on a house you’re never at.” I smile at her back when she steps into the steel box. Following her in, the doors close behind us. She’s fiddling with her phone when I press the stop button on the elevator. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She starts to panic, still fearing confined spaces. “Sasha, fix it.” She commands as if I’m an elevator mechanic. When I make no move to do anything, she looks at me, I see the fear starting to bubble over, so I take one knee.

              Pulling the ring out of my pocket to present to her, before one word comes from my mouth the tears are pooling in her eyes, “Princess,” yes, she still loves to hate it. “You’re my best friend, my confidant, my partner. I love you more than life itself and never want to spend a day not knowing you’re mine. Will you marry me?”

              She nods her head in agreement through the tears as I slide the ring on her finger. She never looks at it, just throws her arms around my neck, “I love you.”

              “I hope you still feel that way when we get upstairs,” I wink at her and push the start button to carry us up the final floor. She watches me from the corner of her eye, she’s waiting to strike but can’t bring herself to yell at me, since I just proposed. Ahh, victory.

              When she opens the door to the loft, all of our friends and family, including the crazy old bat Elsie, are there to celebrate with us. Claire immediately starts to cry as people swarm the door, turning into me, burying her face in my neck as I laugh at her. She’s not the-center-of-attention kind of girl, but she’s my world and I want everyone to know I have claimed her.

              She’s quickly swept away by her girlfriends and a group of women from my family. I find a beer and the guys who got suckered into being here huddled around a football game on television. When she screams, I know she’s seen it. Everyone stops what they’re doing to look at her as she comes sliding across the floor jumping into my arms with her legs around my waist. She shows me the ring, as if I didn’t pick it out. The center stone is almost two carats, surrounded by a ring of tiny stones and encased on the sides in the same stones, “It’s a crown
!”
she yells, although I suspect only Claire and I would really see it.

              _____________________________

              Six months later, before her belly would be come noticeable, we tied the knot in a small ceremony in Falls Park downtown. It was simple, but classically Claire, and whatever made her happy, made me happy. I made my Princess my Queen so her heir would have a rightful place. Our Princess, Sofia, would be here soon to start her reign.

T
he
E
nd

A
bout
T
he
A
uthor

Stephie currently resides in the suburbs of Greenville, South Carolina with her daughter, two cats, and a dog.  She has a serious addiction to anything Coach and would live on Starbucks if she could. She’s an avid reader, averaging around 300 novels a year.  Writing has always been her dream.