Falling for Fate (17 page)

“You’ll never know,” she said in a singsong voice that managed to irritate him and turn him on all at once.

He watched as she slung her bag onto her shoulder and headed for the door. Why was this woman always running from him? What was more alarming was the fact that he kept chasing after her.

“I can have breakfast sent up.”

For a second, she looked at him like she was waiting for the punch line. Then she smirked and canted her head to one side. “I’m sure you can, Mr. Maxwell.”

“You don’t have to leave.”
Again.
He really was trying his best not to seem desperate, but every cell in his body was screaming at him to not let her go. “And feel free to stop calling me Mr. Maxwell. Pretty sure we’re past that.”

She lifted a hand to readjust the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “Actually, I do. And no, we’re not. I’m going to go talk to Gwen’s friend at Lux and see if I can’t get my job back.”

It was as if she spent all of her energy thinking up ways to piss him off. “And why in the hell would you do that?”

“Because—”

“Do not even say because of your mom. I’ve handled that. I know where you live. And I know roughly what you make with my company. Your apartment can’t cost
that
much.” He stared intently at her as she rubbed a hand over her eyes.

“There are so many things wrong with what you just said that I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“I’m serious.” He’d been inside her, dammit. The first man ever. He sincerely hoped he was still the
only
man ever. He backed her up against the door and pressed his gaze hard into hers. “You can’t go back to Lux. I’m going to be needing you to stay late at Maxwell. I need help with a few projects.”

She rolled her eyes as if she were completely unfazed by his proximity. Except he was painfully aware of her chest rising and falling rapidly as her breaths came faster.

“Oh? And what kind of
projects
did you need my help with specifically?”

He made sure to keep his voice as flat as possible so she wouldn’t be able to confirm her correct suspicion that he was full of it. “The new employee health assistance program we’re about to institute, for starters. And I think you read my report about the holes in your insourcing plan. Who better than you to assist in implementing the changes needed? Should I ask Ms. Scott? Might have to work late into the evenings. Hours will be long. Grueling, really.” He tried not to smirk as her bright, clear eyes narrowed up at him.

“I can handle it.”

He knew she could. He sincerely hoped they were talking about the same thing. “Oh, I know you can. And I’ll pay you overtime.”

“And I’ll pay you back for my mom’s treatment,” she snapped. “Have a nice day,
Mr. Maxwell
.”

He didn’t get a chance to tell her that that wasn’t necessary because she whirled around and escaped his apartment before he could blink.

“P
lease tell me you spent the night with the walking orgasm who punched out Owen Bentley last night.” Gwen was parked on the couch in the living room when Fate let herself into the apartment.

“Good morning to you, too.”
So much for having a private life.
“Before you jump to conclusions, it’s not what you think.” Her bag hit the floor with a loud thud. “And I need to shower and change before we have this conversation.”

“Oh no you don’t. I could hardly sleep last night because I was worried about what the hell had happened to you.” Her roommate took a sip from her steaming mug of coffee. “Sam texted me and said she’d only heard about it since she was on break when it happened. But judging from her description—”

“Actually, I’d like to think
I
was the reason she could hardly sleep last night. But please, do tell how your evening with Dean went. You’re the one woman he refuses to discuss.”

Fate’s mouth gaped open as a shirtless Keaton Slade poured himself a cup of coffee at the breakfast bar.

“Close your mouth, Buchanan. You’re wearing the same clothes you left in.
Yesterday.”
Gwen at least had the decency to be blushing when Fate looked over at her.

Both of these people knew what had happened back in June. And she knew they’d slept together. Not like they were going to run to Mr. Maxell Senior and tattle on her. She hopped up on a stool and held a cup out for Keaton to pour her some coffee as well.

“Dean came over to the bar and started an argument with me.”

“Sounds like him,” Keaton broke in as he filled her cup.

“Shut up,” Gwen commanded in his direction. “Go on,” she said, nodding at Fate.

“Then Owen told me to stop flirting and slapped me on the ass.
Hard
.” She shuddered at the memory.

Keaton groaned. “Bet that went over well.”

“Jesus Christ, Slade. The woman is
talking.
” Gwen shook her head.

Fate laughed. Clearly, these two had an interesting dynamic that went beyond the bedroom.

“It got out of hand, and the next thing I knew, Dean had punched Owen, I was fired, and we both got kicked out by security.”

The man across from her let out a low whistle.

“Yeah, so that was my night.”

Gwen snorted. “Like hell it was. Get dressed and get a move on, lover boy. I need to hear the details and I know she won’t tell me anything else with you here.”

“I feel so used,” he grumbled as he lumbered over to give her a kiss.

Something about the way he did so, like he meant it, sent Fate’s stomach twisting inside her. This didn’t look like the awkward one-night-stand morning after. Well, it did. But it also looked like it had the potential to be something more. Something she’d closed herself off to the second she’d walked in on Trevor and Melissa.

“Seriously, go. She’s going to clam up and I won’t get shit.”

“Going, I’m going,” Keaton mumbled as he leaned in for one more kiss. For a moment, he looked lost. Then his eyes lit up and he reached behind the plant in the corner of the living room. “Ah. There it is.” He retrieved his shirt and pulled it over his head.

Fate raised an eyebrow at her roommate, but Gwen gave a slight shake of her head.

“Always a pleasure, ladies.” He finished his coffee and nodded to each of them as he placed the mug down on the counter. “Thanks for the coffee, Gwen. And for the night of amazing—”

“Oh my God. Go!” Gwen demanded, her face turning redder by the second.

Fate couldn’t even have stopped the explosive laughter if she’d wanted to.

As she was working to regain control of herself, Keaton winked at her. “Fate. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you around. As in around our favorite hot-tempered CFO.”

Well, that sobered her right up. “Um, okay. Bye, Keaton.”

Once he’d closed the door behind him, Fate turned to Gwen and the two women engaged in a stare down that would’ve broken hardened criminals.

“I had too much to drink,” Gwen huffed out, accepting defeat and dropping her head into her hands. “He’s a really good dancer. And I’m a fucking idiot.”

Fate got up from her stool to join her friend on the couch. “Nah. You might’ve fucked an idiot. But you’re not a fucking idiot.”

“He
is
an idiot,” Gwen confirmed. “He’s smart as hell, but most of the time, he just acts like a giant doofus. He confused me.”

“Never trust a man who can dance. Or one who can make you laugh.”

Gwen’s smooth forehead wrinkled. “Who said that? Elizabeth Taylor? Marilyn?”

“Um, no. My mom.” Fate shrugged. The woman was a mess most of the time. But she’d given some decent advice over the years.

“Yeah, well. I wish she would’ve said it to me. Preferably sometime before last night.”

“Do you regret it?” Fate asked quietly. It was the same question she’d asked herself a million times since June. She still hadn’t come up with an answer.

Gwen sipped her coffee and stared into space for a moment. “Nah. I mean, I regret that I drank that much. And I wish I didn’t have to see him at work in case things get awkward. But I actually had a great time last night.”

Fate pondered her roommate’s words. What would it be like to be the kind of person who could let go and just have a “great time” with a guy without it tangling her up in some convoluted mess? She had no idea. She’d had sex all of once in her life and look what a gigantic ordeal that was turning out to be.

“You think I’m a slut,” Gwen said quietly, startling her back from her thoughts about Dean Maxwell.

“What? No. I don’t.” Fate turned to reassure the other woman. “Hello, chick who gave up her v-card to a random stranger on the beach here.” She paused to point at herself. “I was just thinking that I’m kind of jealous. Must be nice to just be able to enjoy yourself for a night without worrying yourself sick about every single thing that could possibly go wrong. Like, oh, I don’t know. What if that random dude I just slept with turns out to be my boss?”
Fuck my life,
she thought to herself. She finally knew what FML stood for on all those things people posted online. Made perfect sense now.

Gwen laughed softly. “So you didn’t…
enjoy yourself
last night?”

“Yeah, I kind of did. But probably not like you mean.” She sighed and leaned into the soft, chenille couch. “I was already exhausted and the drama at the club sucked the life right out of me. After he’d calmed down, Dean took me to his place. We talked a little. He gave me a foot rub. I passed out on his couch and he carried me to his bed. Pretty sure he slept in a different room.”

“He gave you a
foot rub
?” Gwen shook her head in disbelief. “Marry him.”

Fate laughed, but her roommate’s expression remained stone cold serious.

“I’m not kidding. He defended your honor, massaged your feet, and tucked you in. All without making a move. If you tell me he served you breakfast in bed, I swear,
I’m
going to marry him.”

And he paid for my mom’s rehab in one fell swoop.

Gwen misunderstood the pain that flashed across her face.

“
Oh God.
Sorry. No one should ever joke about moving in on your man after what happened. Ever.” She shook her head. “I wasn’t even thinking. I was totally jo—”

Fate cut her off by putting her hand up between them. “No. Stop. He’s not my man. I was…thinking of something else.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, hon, but he took your virginity, Keaton says he spent the entire summer trying to find you, he punched out another man for touching you, and you just spent the night at his place. If he’s not your man, whose man is he?”

Now there was an excellent question.

M
onday morning, her stomach was a bundle of tightly knotted nerves. She’d worn a red shift dress Gwen had insisted on and she could barely breathe as it was. As soon as she got to work, there was an email from Dean in her inbox.

To:
Fate Buchanan

From:
Daniel Dean Maxwell II.

Subject:
Health & Wellness Program