Mine to Steal (Mine to Love) (9 page)

I flip
on the light as I enter the room and plug in my phone before emptying my pockets. My bag is on the floor so I take it to the desk and bring out all the information for Cavette. I need to be prepared for tomorrow morning, but I can’t seem to get the woman’s words out of my head. I
need
to know her name. The file can wait so I leave it on the desk and sit on the bed to get comfortable.

My phone
is charging next to the bed, since it barely had any juice left when I got back here. I won’t be talking for long, but I find myself sitting on the floor next to the bed so I can hold the phone to my ear while it charges. I pull up Jett’s number and wait for him to answer in one of his usual obnoxious ways. On the third ring, he finally answers.

“Please tell me you finally got laid.”
There it is.

“Jett,
” I roll my eyes in exasperation and sigh, thankful he doesn’t know about last night.

“Damn, guess that means no. You
do realize if you don’t use it, it turns into a vagina, right?”

“You busy?” I ignore his comment and get to what I called for.

“Nah, Hottie left a few minutes ago. She said something about getting ready for a date. What’s up?”

“Will you cut it out?”

“What? She’s not here!”

“How’d everything go today?”

“According to my babysitter, I did a great job. I didn’t spill my drink, and I even went to the bathroom on the big boy potty all by myself.”

“Good for you. I was worried about that, don’t want Hattie to clean up any more messes than she already does,” I deadpan.

“Who’s this guy she’s dating anyway?”

“Some football player. Evan something.
Listen, I’m calling for a reason -”

“I know. Everything’s fine. The
Riayln people called today, and I spoke with the CEO. They’re coming by tomorrow to sign the contracts.”

“That’s great,” I answer, genuinely pleased. “Did you and Hattie make sure all the numbers are correct and set up any initial meetings with them?”

“Yeah, we got it all taken care of. By noon tomorrow, we should have everything put together. I’ll let you know as soon as it’s done.”

There’s an awkward pause, so I decide to ask the question I called for. “Doubt.”

“Thanks, Bro,” he responds tersely.

“No. Who is Doubt?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I met a girl tonight, well, technically last night. She was at
Wired Spirits
and…” I trail, not wanting to give him any details. “Forget it. I saw her out here tonight, and she looked familiar. When I told her my name, she said ‘Doubt’ and to ask you. Any idea what it means?”

“Doubt?” He
tries the word out, repeating it as if it’s foreign to him. “Doubt. Doubt. Doubt! Oh shit! Doubt. I remember her. We went to school together.”

“Yeah, that’s what she
told me, but I know it’s not her name,” I argue. Who on earth would name their kid ‘Doubt?’

“Nah, h
er name is Faith. Get it. Faith – doubt,” he jokes, and it’s obvious he’s impressed with his creation. But I’m not impressed. As soon as he says it, things make a little more sense.

Faith.
I recall hearing that last night before she came home with me, but I wasn’t concerned enough to ask. Had I known it was her name, I might have.

“You nicknamed her Doubt?” His laughter answers for me
, and I roll my eyes. “Why?”

“I
dunno, why do birds fly?”

I rub my hand over my
jaw in irritation. “What in the hell does that mean?” I groan. He’s beginning to irritate me, but I’m still curious why she gave me the cold shoulder tonight. I don’t know her, hell, clearly she doesn’t remember me from last night.
Or maybe she does?

“
She was this scrawny girl with glasses and braces. We were like ten or something - it wasn’t a big deal. She lived a couple of streets over.”

“I didn’t know her, but s
he looked famili- wait, Faith. Faith Young? She had a brother who was older than me, right? Lennox?”

“Yeah.”

“I remember him. He died in a car accident his junior year, I think.” I’m silent for a moment as I let the memories come back to me. “I don’t recall seeing his parents much after that. I forgot he had a sister.”

“They moved a
bout three months after he died,” he adds.

“It wasn’t long after the accident,
Mom sent me to come find you, and I saw this girl jogging down the sidewalk crying. I guess she didn’t see me because she ran right into me. I tried to calm her down to make sure she was okay, but she looked at me like I was going to break her.”

That’s the look
I saw as she debated walking away.

“Probably because she had a crush on you.”

“What? I barely remember her as a kid and aside from that one time, we never talked. Why would she have been into me?”

“I told you, didn’t I? Everyone knew and teased her about it.”

“No wonder she didn’t speak too highly of you. You really are a shit, aren’t you?”

“Dude,
I was a kid and as if you were any better. Pretend all you want, but you were no saint.”

I huff an annoyed breath, partly because he’s right
, and partly because it’s Jett. Even though he’s my brother, sometimes he irritates the shit out of me.

“Everything makes sense now, Faith Young
,” I lament, thinking of the girl who bumped into me and the woman she is now.

“So how’d she look?”
he asked, his curiosity evident in his tone.

“Knockout. You wouldn’t stand a chance. Hell, I don’t think anyone stands a chance.”

“I could turn her.”

I scoff at his remark. “She’s got a ‘fuck off’ in neon over her head, and I think it was directed at me.”

“Good luck with that,” he warns, as if he has experience with her. “Does she live out there?”

“I have no idea. We didn’t get that far in the conversation. She hardly wanted to speak to me
before
she knew my name, but as soon as I said it, I don’t think she could get out of there fast enough.”

“Tough break, Bro -
Listen, I’d like to hear more about her, but I gotta go. I’m picking Cayenne up in an hour. Talk to ya later.”

Before I can respond, he hangs up the phone, leaving me to my memories of the Young family.
Faith
, in particular. Her brother had died on the way to school when his car was hit by a drunk driver. I was a freshman and though I didn’t know the guy, everyone in school knew
of
him. The city practically shut down to pay their respects to the star baseball player.

The day she ran into me, I figure she couldn’t have been more than eleven years old
; she was exactly as Jett described a moment ago. Only that day, it was a bit more extreme. Her eyes were puffy, probably from crying, and her entire body was shaking.

“Are you okay?” I asked, looking down at her. My tall, lanky frame towered over her.

“You didn’t - please, let me go,” she pleaded with he
r eyes glued to the ground.

“What’s your name?”
I asked as gently as I could.

“Faith
,” she whispered it so soft I almost didn’t hear it.

My hands gripped
her shoulders, and I bent down to lower myself so I could see into her eyes. Her fingers tensed on my biceps, digging her nails into them. Her sobs were uncontrollable. I felt bad for what I knew she had been through but couldn’t console her, so I did the only thing I could think of.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to her
as I held her to my chest. Her arms released their hold of me and fell to her sides as mine wrapped protectively around her. I didn’t know her, but I felt the need to try to alleviate the pain radiating from her. Her sobs began to consume her, and her body shook in my arms. I felt her fingers clutching to the back of my shirt as if she needed me to hold her up. “It’ll get better,” I told her, running my hand over her back. 

She pushed away
suddenly and swiped at her eyes but refused to make eye contact. “Doubt never wins,” she muttered before pushing away from me and leaving me standing in the street watching her disappear.

At the time, I thought it was a poignant statement by someone so young, but considering it was a title my idiot brother saddled her with, I suppose it was something more sinister than anything.

She was cute
for a little girl, but I was three years older than my brother. I mean, I felt bad for her, of course, but it wasn’t as if I was checking the kid out. I was doing what anyone else would have done in my situation. When she walked away that day, I didn’t think twice about her, and I haven’t thought about her since.

Yet, in the last six months,
the memory has returned and is tied to the woman I have encountered twice in the last two days. I might not have noticed her then, but here I am fourteen years later, absolutely checking her out.

She is definitely an attractive woman and her lips…

I won’t allow myself to continue this line of thought; I don’t have time to think about her anymore because I have a huge meeting tomorrow morning, and I need to be prepared. The Cave file is still lying on the bed where I set it down, so I riffle through everything and study it as much as possible before turning in. I need all the rest I can get tonight.

* * *

I’ll be the first to admit, based on the name, Cave’s Camo and Outdoor, I made certain assumptions about what their corporate offices would be like. Mostly, I figured there would be animal heads mounted on the walls, guns on almost every surface, and employees dressed in ghillie suits. Instead, it’s a modest office space, situated in an old part of town in a renovated fifties house. From the brick exterior, there’s not much to look at, but inside is like a man cave.

The walls are lined with aged
wood that makes it feel more like a cabin than an office. I find it interesting there isn’t a front desk, but the waiting area is decorated with overstuffed brown leather couches. The place smells of pine, leather, and the outdoors. There are a few frames on the walls; some look to be family portraits, while others are of wild animals in the woods. There’s an old black and white portrait that catches my eye, but before I can get a good view of it, an older man greets me from the office door to my left. He reminds me of my grandfather, but perhaps a bit younger.

“Mr. Miller,” he announces with a boisterous presence. I feel the need to
turn around, in case there’s another
Mr. Miller
standing behind me. He acts as if we are old friends. “Come in, come in. Have a seat. I’m so glad you found the office.”

I walk the short distance to the chair he shows me, still stunned by his animated personality, but I’ve heard things about him, so I do my best to appear neutral. I extend my hand in greeting
. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Sir?”
he repeats and shakes his head with a stern expression. “That’s my dad - well, it would be if he wasn’t dead - I feel like a young buck in my prime. Just call me Cal.”

“Cal?”

“Short for Aaron.”

I
tilt my head and wonder if he heard himself. “It’s true. Aaron Callen Cavette. But I never liked the name Aaron, so Cal it is. Can I get you something to drink before we get started?”

My head is spinning in confusion from his strange name explanation, but I’m feeling pretty good. Unless I’m reading him wrong, Cavette is ready to sign
, and this presentation is merely a formality. I predict by the end of this meeting, I’ll be changing my flight to head back to Denver tonight with contracts in hand.

“No, sir,” I say, but he eyes me questioningly. “I mean, Cal. I’m fine.”

“Well, let’s have a gander at that proposal you’ve been going on about.” He walks to his desk and takes a seat while I prepare the presentation. “If you don’t mind, I’ve asked my grandson, Grayson, to sit in. He’s running a bit late, but we can start without him, and you can fill him in later.”

I begin the presentation by telling him about the company, as well as a list of some of our more
well-known clients. The entire time I’m rattling off the information, he’s nodding, but I can tell he isn’t listening. I decide to skip the rest of my spiel when I find a good moment to change to the next part.

“Even though T.M. is a relatively new marketing and public relations firm, we have been trusted to handle hospitals, law firms
, and we are starting to attract up and coming entertainers. But what can we do for Cave Camo and Outdoor? The way I see it, your online visibly is not where it should be - not for how large your business is. What I’d like to do is -”

I’m unable to finish the sentence because the office door flies open and a man walks in, who I immediately assume to be the grandson.
I figure he’s close to my age, and he resembles his grandfather, although he is slightly shorter.