Chance (The Fosters of New York 1) - Page 10

"You're wrong." He drops his hands to his sides. "I can see the smoke that's there between the two of you. You both just need to give the other a chance."

I raise both brows playfully. "This discussion is over. You're going out. I'm going to bed and Caleb won't be in my dreams. I can guarantee that."

Chapter 8

"Ruby asked me if we ever fucked each other."

There are at least three things wrong with that statement. The first is the source. That's Caleb Foster's voice. I'd know it anywhere. It's deep, melodic and has just the hint of a growl to it. The second thing is that my office door is wide open. I'm expecting Asher at any minute. I don't need to turn towards the door to know that at least a few of the people I work with heard Caleb's words. The last thing that's completely and totally wrong is that there's no way in hell that Ruby uses the word 'fuck.' I'd peg her for the 'screw' or 'bang' type.

"Caleb," I say his name in barely more than a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

"Have your legs always been that long?"

I smooth my hand over the messy bun I pulled my hair into before I left for work this morning. I'd overslept. After Graham left, I'd fallen between the sheets and had drifted into a deep sleep. I woke with a start when I heard my phone ringing. It was Ivy reminding me that we have a yoga class together the day after tomorrow. Normally I'd tease her about confirming something so far in advance but today, her early call was what I needed to get my ass in gear. I was late to work for the first time in months and now, I have to deal with Caleb. My day can only get better from here.

"Why are you here?" I turn to face him. He's standing in the doorway of my office, his left hand leaning against the doorjamb. His blue suit jacket is draped over his right arm. He looks relaxed, content and way too pleased.

His eyes slowly rake over the red dress I'd hurriedly put on before coming to work. It's shorter than what I'd normally wear but when you're in a rush, you grab the first thing that your hand connects with in the closet. In this case, it's a dress I've worn out on dates a few times. "Is that dress new?"

Any mild discomfort I might have felt when I heard Caleb talk about my legs has been replaced with all out agitation. "No. It's not new."

"You did your hair differently today." He scratches the edge of his jaw. "Why do you look so different?"

This is completely reminiscent of a conversation that we had when I was an adolescent and Caleb saw me in a dress for the first time at the wedding of a mutual friend of our parents. He'd marched over to ask me why I looked so different and I had teased him about it then. Today, I can't push myself into a place where I want there to be anything humorous floating between us. I'm still angry with him over what happened to Asher yesterday.

"I don't look different." I tug on the back of my office chair. "I asked you why you're here."

"Do you have a lunch date?" He finally walks into the room. "You're going out with someone at lunch, aren't you? Do I know him?"

I'm not shocked by the barrage of questions. Caleb has met every man I've ever been in a relationship with. I hadn't planned it that way but circumstances brought him straight into the path of me and my boyfriends in the past. For the most part he's been remarkably cordial to them.

I, on the other hand, have only met one of Caleb's past girlfriends. It was actually his fiancé. Her name is Vena and she's the one woman who found her way into Caleb's heart. Soon after Caleb proposed to her, the relationship was over. We've never talked about it and I doubt we ever will. I only tried once to bring it up and he'd shut me down in anger, telling me to never mention her name again. I hadn't. I won't.

"It's not like I'm going to follow you on your lunch date."

"What?" I pull myself back into the moment. "Did you just say you're going to follow me on my lunch date?"

He puffs out a breath between pursed lips as he takes a seat in one of the chairs opposite my desk. "I said I wouldn't do that. I was just curious about who you're having lunch with."

"I'm not having lunch with anyone." I dart my eyes behind him towards the door. Asher should have been here by now. I'm worried that he caught sight of Caleb in the lobby of the building and decided to ditch me. I need to talk to him. I want to make sure he's alright after what happened yesterday.

Caleb careens his neck to the side. "Who are you looking for? Are you fucking someone who works here? Introduce me to him. I want to meet him."

My hands jump to cover my face. This isn't happening. I can't talk about my non-existent sex life this early in the morning. I certainly can't talk about it with him. "Stop, Caleb. My life isn't your business."

"I didn't think you were dating." He leans forward in the chair. "When did you start dating someone?"

"When did you hire a house manager?" I need to shift the focus of this completely inappropriate conversation. "Why did you hire her?"

"I brought her on board a few weeks ago." He crosses his long legs. "She's a close friend of my mother. She needed a job."

I recognize the irony in the situation. Caleb's loyalties lie in one place. It's not with me or his brothers. It may have been his former fiancé at one point, but it's always been his parents. If they need anything, Caleb is the first to jump to the ready to help. I admired it when we were younger but now I see it clearly for what it is. He's trying to make up for what he views as his part in the breakdown of their marriage. He quietly blamed himself when they announced they were separating. His guilt stemming from the fact that he forced himself into the middle of their business relationship.

"Have you talked to Asher?" I scan my smartphone's screen hoping to see a text from Asher telling me he's running late.

"You only get one phone call in prison," he says with the hint of amusement in his tone. "I doubt I'm Asher's call."

I have to bite my bottom lip to stave off the urge I feel to scream at him. It may be his incessant need to joke about serious situations because he can't handle anything heavy, but this pushes all of my buttons. "Asher isn't in prison."

Tags: Deborah Bladon The Fosters of New York Romance
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