A Life Like This (Life #1)
Read A Life Like This (Life #1) Online
Authors: Cs Jacobs
A Life Series Book One
C.S. Jacobs
A Life Like This
A Life Series
C.S. Jacobs
Copyright 2015 C.S. Jacobs
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Editing by
Hot Tree Editing
Formatting by
Swish Design & Editing
Cover design by
Swish Design & Editing
Cover image Copyright 2015
To C, J, & S always follow your dreams.
First and foremost I need to thank my husband. You have been the most supportive person throughout this process. From day one you told me to write because it made me happy, then you pushed me to publish after my story sat on a thumb drive for over year. Thank you, smooch.
C, J, S, I thank you for letting mommy sit in her room and write her story.
Lacey, I appreciate you more than you could ever know. You’re the one that told me to stop thinking about it and to do it. The one who told me to follow my dreams, thank you.
Jen, thank you for being my first Beta reader.
Ty, thank you for the crash course on all the greats in country music, couldn’t have figured out the perfect songs without your help.
Becky and everyone at Hot Tree, thank you for editing my mess of a story. You girls are awesome.
Kaylene and Kimberly at Swish Design & Editing thank you for helping me format and design. Also for answering my millions of questions. You ladies rock.
To my readers, thank you for reading my book, I hope you fall in love with the characters as much as I have. Happy reading.
Thank you.
“Ugh, I don’t want to get up.” Roger, my three-year-old boxer, is staring back at me. He tilts his head to the left and licks my cheek, like he does every morning when my annoying alarm goes off. Reluctantly, I sit up and stare intently at my running clothes, hoping it will make me want to get up. I sit here dreading my busy day to come. Eventually, I get up to use the bathroom and brush my teeth. Dressing, I grab Roger’s leash, and head out for our daily five a.m. run. I lock up, walk down the steps of my brownstone, and take a big breath of the crisp November air. This is the perfect month in New York. The trees are changing colors, the leaves falling. I love it. “Well, Roger, what do you think? Right or left today?” Every morning I ask him and he always picks left, but today he picks right. “Hmm, this is different, but let’s do it!”
An old man walks by us staring at me oddly. Talking to my dog is something I do regularly, even in the street. I’m sure people think I’m a crazy person, but he likes when I talk to him.
Since when have I ever cared what people thought of me anyway?
I strap my phone to my arm then start some music. Usher is telling me how he wants to do things “My Way,” which sounds good.
We start our morning jog at a leisurely pace, soon falling in sync with one another. I’ve had Roger since he was twelve weeks old; my grandfather bought him for me and we know each other well. He has the most beautiful red fawn coat with a white underbelly. He’s a solid sixty-five pounds and I’d like to think of him as my own little body guard. Part of me believes that’s why my grandfather bought him for me. I live alone in New York City, the Upper East Side to be exact. It’s a wealthy neighborhood and crime is minimal, but that doesn’t make my grandfather worry any less. He lives in Three Rivers, Texas, so I know he feels useless, but honestly, I’m a big girl and I can handle myself. It’s not like a dog is going to stop a criminal from doing something to me, but I’m not going to lie, Roger does make me feel safer.
Once we hit our pace, I let my mind wander. I think of the big meeting I have this afternoon with a
huge
vodka company that Bill, my boss, is just dying to acquire. It’s actually the investor he wants to land because they lead to more opportunities. I stress myself out enough when possible clients come our way and I really don’t need his added to it. I mean, we are ranked number three in New York. Which isn’t number one or two, but shit, it’s still good. I’ve worked at W.H. Advertising for five years now. Bill took me in right out of college and he’s been an amazing boss. I remember when I walked into my building for the first time and was so mesmerized by everyone in their suits coming and going. I sat in the lobby for fifteen minutes before the security guard came and sat next to me. He introduced himself as Charlie and asked me where I was heading. I told him to W.H. Advertising and he smiled at me. He told me Bill was a nice man and I had nothing to fear. I smiled and thanked him, and then reluctantly made my way up to his office.
I truly am lucky to have landed the position of his junior advertising assistant and now I’m the lead of our advertising team. I always get a thrill from watching all of our hard work come to life. Getting there is intense and stressful as hell, but worth it in the end. I’m a perfectionist, so I know I make things harder for myself, but I expect the best from everyone around me. I’m not the type of leader who sits back and dictates to others. I like to get my hands dirty with the rest of them because it’s a team effort in this field. This mentality has helped me to secure where I am today.
I realized in college I wanted to help take things from the unknown to the known. I wanted to see my work on billboards and commercials. I’ve always had a knack for helping people get the word out. In college, I was in a dance group and I was always left in charge of getting the word out on events or fundraisers. I would make signs, pass out flyers, even write and sing songs in the quad – and I hated singing in public. But my work always paid off. We constantly had a packed house, or a full roster, or whatever it was we were trying to do. I went into college not truly knowing what I wanted to do, but by the time I left, there was no doubt about it. I wanted to get into advertising as if my life depended on it and I did.
Right smack in the middle of my thoughts, I barely have time to register a man running right at me.
BOOM.
“
Motherfucker!
” I yell to whomever this asshole is that just ran into Roger and me. As I’m falling, Roger’s leash slips out of my hand and he starts to protectively bark by my side. “Roger, enough!” I shout at him and he stills. I wipe my hands off on my pants.
“Shit!” I hear the stranger mutter under his breath. I go to stand but the man is faster and offers his hand. I take it and catch my breath in the process. I haven’t actually looked at him until now, and good Lord, is there a lot to look at. He has the most amazing light blue eyes I have ever seen. They are stunning. That’s not the only thing that I find amazing. He is built like a Greek god. Wearing an Under Armour fitted shirt, I can see his pecs flexing from his labored breathing and they look solid. God, what I would give to feel them and see if my observation is correct. His facial hair is a perfect two-day stubble look, which not many men could pull off, but this guy owns it.
I think my mouth is open and I am probably drooling. He looks at me giving me a slight grin and that’s when I know I’m acting like an asshat and need to get it together. He slowly lets go of my hand. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention, and when I noticed, it was too late,” he says in the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. I dust off my pants trying to hide my reaction to his voice. Goose bumps litter my arms and I have no idea which gorgeous feature contributed to this.
“Clearly,” I say with a bit more irritation than I meant. The inner bitch in me always comes out when I least want her to.
“I hope I didn’t harm you or your dog.” At the word dog, Roger growls a little.
“Roger, I’m not telling you again.” I give him the death glare and he instantly quiets.
“Wow, you’re good with him.”
“Yeah, I’ve had him since he was a puppy. I’d like to think I trained him well. Umm, anyway, we’re fine.” I grab Roger’s leash and begin to walk away from the delicious stranger. I’m rambling and that is never a good sign. Figuring we might as well head back home, I pick up the pace and head in the right direction. The sooner I am away from this man from Heaven, the better. I’m convinced my running pants are a little damp after our encounter.
“Wait! I never got your name.”
Smiling to myself, I continue jogging in the opposite direction. “No, you didn’t.” I yell over my shoulder as Roger and I start to run home.
For the whole run home, I can’t stop picturing those eyes, or that voice. The rest of him was amazing too. Shit, he can run into me anytime he wants. Heat surges through my body and it has nothing to do with the running. The mere thought of him has me needy. Fuck me running, that man was
fine.
I can’t wait to tell Joey all about it later. Joey is my best friend, or my GBF, which he likes for me to refer to him as, and he loves a story with a hot guy in it.
We make it home without incident, much to my disliking. What was I thinking? That he would follow us? That’s creepy, right?
Yes, that’s creepy
. As we walk in, Roger goes straight to his bowl and I feed him his breakfast and head upstairs. With the touch of a few buttons on the wall, my bathroom comes alive with music. I strip out of my running clothes and start the shower. Once the hot water’s running, I step in and keep picturing McHottie. That’s what I have decided to name him since I never gave him the chance to make proper introductions. He was so fine. Everything from his sexy eyes, his rough voice, his hard body, his hair, ugh… his hair, it was the perfect length to be pulled. Before I realize what I’m doing, I touch myself, rubbing small circles on my clit with my finger. God, just meeting this guy for five minutes is making me hot. What if I had him for a night
?
If only Next knew how right they were right now. “Too Close” is blaring through the built-in speakers. I slowly pick up the speed of my finger as I envision what a night with him would entail and it doesn’t take long for me to feel my release coming.
Oh, I felt it all right. I quicken my pace even more and moan in pleasure at my orgasm.
Wow, what a way to start my morning!
The last time I masturbated in the shower was years ago. Seriously, if I’m horny, I just go fuck. Who masturbates in the shower? What the hell has gotten into me? Before I can dwell on it any more, I wash myself and hop out of the shower.
My bedroom is the whole fourth floor of my five-story brownstone. The master bathroom leads into my amazing walk-in closet. This house is way too much for me, and my grandfather knew it when he bought it, but it didn’t stop him. He wanted me in the best neighborhood and in the best house. Money is no object to my grandfather. He owns a large oil company in Texas, has for years. My grandfather is very smart with his money. You would never know he is worth millions of dollars, maybe even billions. He is worth more than I could ever fathom. I have never taken advantage of that, but if there is anything I’ve learned over the years, it’s that he always gets what he wants, and he wanted to buy me this house.
Of course, he wanted to put me up in a penthouse apartment with a twenty-four hour concierge and security, but I wanted a brownstone. So after pleading and maybe even shedding a few tears, he gave in. He tends to be a bit overprotective, and he has every right to be, but I still don’t like him spending so much money on me. I’m living in an obscenely expensive brownstone, so I shouldn’t be complaining, but it’s a bit much. I am extremely grateful for what I have. I make sure to remind my grandfather of that often. However, the walk-in closet really made up my mind for me. It’s huge. It is filled with designer brands, my kryptonite. I have a great job. I make good money, and I splurge on clothes.
My grandfather may have bought me my home as a “graduation gift,” so he says, but other than that, I have not taken a dime from him. I work damn hard for everything I have. My mother on the other hand, milks my grandfather for all he is worth, the cow. That’s my mother though; can’t pay her own way. She always has to have a man paying her way. Thank God, I am nothing like her.
Once I’m ready, I head downstairs, say goodbye to Roger, and walk out to hail myself a cab. It doesn’t take long and soon I am on my way to work. As the cabbie drives through the city, I watch the buildings fly by and think about how much I love New York. The houses all lined up, the trees lining the road, and the people out rushing along the streets. To some, it is overwhelming, but to me its home. I’ve lived here all my life. I don’t know any different. The cab ride is never long enough for me to truly enjoy this city because I only live eight miles from my work building on Wall Street. There is no way in hell am I am walking that long in my Christian Louboutin’s. I have the cabbie drop me off a block away from work so I can hit up the Starbucks on the corner.
I can’t survive without my morning Starbucks. No really, if one were to ask Bill, he would tell you that you don’t want me around if I don’t have a coffee in my hands. I pay the fare and am on my way. Of course, there is a line that I happily wait in, because Jill, my favorite barista, sees me walk in and waves at me as she starts my drink so it will be ready when I reach the counter. This is why you must be nice to people and always tip. Doing so most definitely has its advantages. Offering my thanks, I grab my coffee and bagel, and head to the office.
Aside from my random morning being trampled by my McHottie, I’m at work fifteen minutes early. “Hey, Charlie,” I call to one of the building’s security men.
“Hey, Angie,” he calls back enthusiastically.
I love Charlie. He is probably in his late sixties, and he is the sweetest man you’ll ever meet. Ever since meeting him on my first day, I don’t start my day without our hellos; it just doesn’t seem right. His white hair and kind eyes always make me smile. I hit the up button on the elevator and ride it up to the 26th floor.
I step into a mostly empty office. Rosie, the office secretary, isn’t in until eight, nor is the rest of the team, but I know Bill is already here. I can smell his coffee brewing. I walk into my office, drop my stuff off then head over to his, entering without knocking. “Hey, Bill, did you enjoy dinner with Nancy last night?” Yesterday was his and his wife Nancy’s 30th wedding anniversary.
He looks up from his desk and smiles. “Good morning, Ang, yes, I did. We had an amazing night. Thanks for asking.” He smiles at me but I see the stress written all over his face. Bill has never been good at hiding his emotions; actually no man ever has been.
