Destined to Fall - Page 3

“It’s him, Quinn.”

“What are you talking about, Cass?”

“Kyler. He’s the one I dreamt about this morning.”I bury my face in my hands to hide my mortification. I risk a peek through my fingers and see Quinn’s shoulders shaking with her quiet laughter. “Quinn,” I whine. “It’s not funny.” I slap her on the arm.

“You’re right,” she replies between laughs. “It’s not funny. It’s hilarious.” I throw my hands up in defeat and grab my little make up bag to start applying my make-up.

Quinn comes to stand next to me. “Are you sure it was him?” she asks seriously. All the laughter is gone from her face.

“Yes. I said his name and told him to-” my mouth snaps shut before I divulge any more humiliating information about my naughty dream. Quinn smirks and I bite my lip to stifle the giggle I feel crawling up my throat.

“I don’t blame you. He’s a catch and I hear he’s certainly not lacking down south,” Quinn concedes. She grabs the eye shadow from my hands and spins me so that I’m facing her.

“I didn’t know you knew him,” I say quietly while she applies some color to my eyelids.

“Not very well. I just know our parents are acquaintances. Kyler has a bit of a reputation and he’s a few years older than us so we never really hung out,” she states. My thoughts drift back to the redhead we saw pawing him earlier and my face twists into a scowl involuntarily.

“Was that his girlfriend down in the lobby?” I ask, trying to sound indifferent.

I fail miserably. I open my eyes to find Quinn studying me.

“No,”she replies.“But they attend most of the social events together throughout the year. It’s no secret that they’re using each other for sex.” I don’t know why, but a sudden heaviness settles in my belly. Quinn checks her watch. “You better skedaddle. You’re going to be late,” she tells me.

“See you at lunch?” I ask on my way out. She nods and we head in opposite directions.

I walk into the boardroom a minute before our meeting starts and almost fall out of my chair when Kyler walks in behind his father. Robert Knight is one of the nicest men I have ever met. He is a tall man, although not as tall as his son, and has a slight belly. His face is warm and inviting and even on a bad day, he is always smiling. Mia, our overly enthusiastic publishing intern who’s sitting next to me, battles to suppress her excitement when she spots Kyler and giggles in her seat. That’s when I notice that most of the women, married or not, are staring open mouthed. The room goes quiet.

“Good morning everyone,”Robert greets.There’s an incoherent mumble from the men in the room while the women continue to eye fuck Kyler. “This is my son, Kyler.” Robert continues, oblivious to those of us who look like panting dogs in heat. “From today, he will be working for Knight Media.”

He grins proudly at his son, who acknowledges us with a simple nod. “Right, then,” he pats Kyler on the back. “We’ll leave you kids to it.” He walks out and Kyler lingers a moment longer, locking his eyes with mine. His glare makes me shiver and I see his lip curl up in amusement. Shmuck. When he leaves, the women all sigh, chatting excitedly amongst themselves before our immediate boss, Kevin, takes charge.

I don’t hear a thing he says. Only when we’re dismissed, do I stop thinking about him. I spend the rest of my day locked up in my office, buried beneath piles of unsolicited manuscripts, in hopes of forgetting about Kyler.

No.Such.Luck.

~ Kyler ~

When my father asked me to start working for him I was hesitant, for no other reason than I like my current lifestyle. Work of any kind hasn’t been a priority, unless it’s the physical kind. With a woman. But something about my father’s request has me feeling uneasy. I can’t fight the nagging in my gut that something is wrong, that what my father is really doing is preparing me to take over from him. Funny thing is, he’s about ten years away from retirement and wouldn’t be leaving unless he has to. I push the concerns aside and start organizing my office. For whatever reason, my father needs me and I’m not about to let him down. Jessa can always join me for a ‘quick lunch’ in my office, once my chaise lounge set arrives. Oddly enough, it’s not her I picture being bent over my desk. No. It’s that brunette I met in the elevator, Quinn’s friend. What was her name again? Great, asshole. You can picture bending her over your desk but you can’t remember her name? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve wanted to do ungodly things to a woman whose name I don’t remember. I have a shameless history of one night stands to prove that.

Jessa is the only woman I’ve had a semi-consistent relationship with, if you

consider attending social events together and having meaningless but hot sex afterward, a relationship. My mother has it in her head that Jessa Price and I will someday get married, start a family and live happily ever after. I’m fairly certain Jessa has the same idea in her head. They’re both delusional. If I ever settle down, and that’s a very small possibility, it won’t be with someone like Jessa.

She’s all about status and social climbing and I have no doubt that she’ll cheat on me the minute she gets bored.

No, thanks. I would rather stick to my nameless one night stands than subject myself to a lifetime of misery. It would take a special woman to tame the animal in me and she is yet to be discovered. My mind unwillingly drifts back to Quinn’s friend. Why the fuck can’t I remember her name? Dammit. Maybe I should try and see her again? Shouldn’t be too difficult now that I’ll be working with her. It could just be two colleagues getting to know each other. Have you lost your damn mind? You’ve met the woman once and now you’re conjuring up excuses to see her again? Ridiculous. It makes me grin.

“What has you smiling like a fool?”

My head snaps up and my father walks into my office. “Nothing,” I shrug my shoulders. It’s obvious he doesn’t believe me but he doesn’t push it either.

“You settling in okay?” he asks, looking around the large open space. The hardwood floors glisten as the morning sun shines through the floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking the city with Lake Michigan on the horizon. “Yeah. The new furniture should be here by Wednesday,” I reply. I watch my father rub his face and for the first time I notice how tired he looks. “Is everything okay, Dad?”

He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he stares at the city skyline, getting lost in his thoughts.

“Dad?” His head whips up and he looks startled. What is going on with him lately? It’s as if he isn’t even here.

“What, son?”

“I asked if everything’s okay.”He stares blankly at me, and it’s almost like looking in a mirror. Except the reflection staring back at me is an older version of myself.

He shakes his head as if to bring himself back to the present.

“Yes, yes,” he replies over enthusiastically. “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re ready for all this.” The double meaning of his words doesn’t escape me. He’s telling me something without actually saying the words. It bothers me.

“I’m ready, Dad,” I assure him, even if I’m not entirely sure of myself. My father has left a legacy, treating his employees like family and always doing what is right for the company, never at the detriment of someone else. I’m not even half the man he is and until this very moment, looking at his tired, drawn face, I have never questioned my life.

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