Read The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] Online
Authors: C.J. Wells
Tags: #Perfect Plans and Take a Bow
“Sweetie, no one gets around more than me.”
“You said it,” I tease.
“Hashtag ‘Fuck You,’ chastity belt. Besides, I’m too horny to be out in public,” she laughs.
“Missing Thomas are you?”
“Thomas who?”
“What-e-v-e-r. So, what’s the position?”
“I assume it’s marketing related, so right up your alley.”
“Absolutely. And my funds are slowly starting to dwindle.”
“I knew you’d be up for it. I told him you’d give him a call today.”
“Ok, will do. I also need to find a hotel. I only have a few days left, so I better get started.”
“Yeah, get your ass in gear, slacker. I’ll text you Thomas’s number. Give me a call later and tell me how it goes. I’ll text you a few cheap hotels too. And hey, stop fretting about the deal with Alex. Have fun and stop worrying.”
“I will. Thanks, I love you.”
“Love you too, muffin.”
THE SUN IS shining brightly as I make my way towards the café to meet Thomas for our one o’clock meeting. I was surprised that he wanted to see me today, but it’s not like I have any other plans. Sorry to say, I still haven’t heard from Alex.
Thomas is waiting for me at a small booth at the back of the café, his easy smile reaching his eyes as he stands to greet me upon my approach. “Abigail, you look lovely, as always. Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”
“My pleasure, Thomas. It was no inconvenience at all.”
Taking our seats and placing our orders for coffee, he proceeds to fill me in on the proposal. It’s a freelance role, reporting directly to him. I would be assisting with the marketing campaigns—totally my forte—and would even have a desk in the office for my convenience.
“I realize the position is perhaps too lowly for you, given you’ve held my role back in Canada, but it’s yours if you want it. I’ve seen your previous work, and expect you’ll likely run circles around me, taking over as Director before month’s end,” he winks.
There’s no question I could do the job with my eyes closed, however, it’s a pay-check. One I desperately need. “Thank you, I’m flattered. And yes, I would like to accept the position. In fact I look forward to it.”
“Splendid,” he replies, his British verbiage immediately pushing my thoughts back to Alex.
I feel a little pang that I haven’t heard from him yet. My avid obsession with him isn’t good. I need to chill out. Just go with it, as Stacey suggested. He’ll text me, or call, when he has the time. At least, I hope.
“Does it work well for you to come into the office on Monday? I can show you around and you can get an idea of how we roll,” Thomas pulls me from my reverie.
“Absolutely. Monday is perfect,” I smile warmly.
“I’ll be sure to have the remuneration package ready for you. But trust me when I say, it will be worth your while.” Taking a sip of his coffee, his eyes flicker mischievously, “Enough talk about work. I assume you didn’t mind my giving Alex Stacey’s mobile number. She tells me you’re seeing him.”
“Oh,” I pucker my lips unconsciously, a little surprised at the sudden switch in gears—and topic. “Yes, I guess I am,” I reply, losing myself in the memory of Alex’s texts and the steamy escapades we’ve experienced since, feeling my cheeks taint in the sudden rush. Trying to recover, I fumble with my coffee attempting to take a sip. I miss.
Nice.
“Uh-oh, looks like you’ve got it bad, as Stacey would say,” he laughs.
Wiping at my blouse, I give another shot at feigning indifference, “Let’s just say . . . he’s a very nice guy,” I wink.
I like that I feel comfortable with Thomas. How could I not? He’s funny, sincere, and has swept my best friend off her feet. Even if she won’t admit it.
“That he is. I‘ve known Alex for a few years and I can’t say there’s a nicer chap out there. However,” he pauses, tilting his head in the manner of a school teacher about to give a lecture—albeit a fun school teacher, “ . . . you are important to Stacey, which makes you important to me. With that said, I think it wise to warn you that the lifestyle of a man in the public eye, if you will, as he is . . . ” he pauses again in thought. “Well, the life of a celebrity, as high-profile as Alex, can be challenging.”
“Challenging,” I repeat the word, processing it aloud.
“What I mean to say is that you should be prepared for all that comes with dating a celebrity. The public scrutiny, crazed fans, hectic schedule, not to mention the travel. The time apart takes some getting used to,” he finishes, appearing reflective.
Oh my gosh, he’s thinking about Stacey.
“Thomas, are we still talking about Alex?”
“Yes. Yes, of course,” he straightens further in his chair.
“Su-u-r-e,” I wink at him once more.
I like him
.
Though not drop dead gorgeous, he’s one of those men overflowing with charisma; his warm hazel eyes framed in black modern glasses, his short brown hair loosely styled back at its peak. Add to that his aristocratic British charm and dry, witty humor, he’s a great catch. He and Stacey are absolute polar opposites, but he’s good for her. And clearly, very much into her
.
I know the feeling
.
Deciding to let him off the hook, and to avoid further discussion of Alex, which makes me lose all composure, I begin to gather my things. “I really appreciate the advice. I promise to be careful and think about what I’m getting myself into,” I smile warmly. It’s sweet that he’s thinking of my well-being on Stacey’s behalf. Yes, I think he’s
very
much into my dear friend. “And, again, thank you so much for the position. I’m excited to get back to work.”
“And I look forward to having you on my team.” He smiles as we stand, “Enjoy the remainder of your week and we will see you Monday morning.”
“Sounds great,” I reply, shaking his hand once more—a formal gesture after such an informal end to our meeting. However, that’s just his way. I couldn’t have asked for a better boss. Another positive check on my new-life list.
STILL NO WORD from Alex. I feel ill. Not to mention depressed.
I attempted to keep my ridiculous emotional predicament at bay, perusing several clothing shops in search of some new, and much needed, work attire. Unfortunately, many of the shops were over my price range and I ended up leaving empty handed. Although, as much as I’d like to put all the blame on the stores being too rich for my blood, I can’t. With my mind so focused on Alex, I likely overlooked many potential finds.
I was successful, however, in securing a new hotel. Stacey messaged pictures and contact information as promised, but to be honest, I just went with the first hotel suggested. Again, a result of my unfocused mind.
I’m scheduled to check into The Millgrave Hotel on Friday afternoon. From what information I
was
able to absorb, it isn’t quite in Central London, but that’s understandable given my budget. But it does mean I’ll have to investigate the subway system—or the tube, as they call it here in London. I can’t very well take a taxi everywhere. That would add up, regardless of the new pay check.
The idea of having to figure my way around London’s subway by myself makes me nervous. It’s times like these that I miss my best friend—although Stacey’s done more than enough for me already. However daunting the task seems, I’ll just have to pull up my socks and figure it out on my own.
Maybe Alex can help me.
Yeah, right.
First of all, the man has yet to call me—and there’s no guarantee he will. And secondly, he’s a famous actor
.
It’s a preposterous notion
.
It really is too bad that I don’t have someone to share the task with. Clearly, I need to put myself out there and start meeting people. Maybe I’ll meet a new friend at the office.
Making my way into the hotel, I take note of my surroundings and realize just how much I’ll miss this place. Particularly my morning walks through Shepherd Market
. Given the circumstances, however, it is what it is,
I think to myself, stepping inside the elevator. I’m a pro at change these days. I’m sure I can handle a mere hotel transition.
Walking into my lovely hotel room, I feel a bit sad that I’ll have to give it up. The Millgrave certainly pales in comparison—the pictures Stacey sent show a very studious room with enough space to house the double bed and small clothing wardrobe.
It’s only for a week,
I remind myself.
At the chirping of my phone, I dive towards it, grabbing it quickly.
I hope it’s Alex!
Subject: Thinking of you
How was your day? Mine has been filled with thoughts of you, Miss Ryan. Are you at the hotel?
Alex
Giddy with excitement, I begin my reply . . .
Subject: Thinking of you too
I just returned. Perfect timing, Mr. Tate. My day was good—you may have wandered into my thoughts occasionally ;) I’m free if you would like to stop by.
Aby x
Dancing in place, I bite at my smiling lips, anxiously awaiting the chirping signal of his reply. Good God, I’m like a teenager.
Where’s the Glamour magazine? Shouldn’t his posters be plastered all over the wall?—
my inner actress snidely points out the tad difference in my crush. The reminder that Alex Tate is no ordinary boy makes me jump up and down all the more, as my phone indicates another message.
Subject: You read my mind
I was hoping you would offer. I’m on my way. See you soon, beautiful.
Alex xx
Fully into my teen-girl dizzy excitement, I leap on the bed to continue my jumps for joy.
With one final bound in the air, I flop onto my back, legs and arms spread wide. Closing my eyes over my widespread smile, I envision the sight of Alex in all his glory.
He’s been thinking about me all day . . .
“WERE YOU BORN this way?” I ask, my fingers lost in the glorious dark curls scattered across Alex’s incredibly sculpted muscles.
His leisurely rub of my back as I lay upon his bare chest slows to a halt.
My eyes drift up to his and I note his eyebrow raised in question. “You know . . . so freakishly adept at
everything
you do?” I explain.
There’s no question he was born with a serious set of amazing genes. The man is sculpted perfection. Every single inch of him. The fact that he’s an incredible lover on top of everything else is simply mind-blowing.
Literally
—my inner dreamer lingers in my recent orgasm.
“Are you complimenting me as an actor or hinting at a curiosity towards my sexual prowess?”
“B-both. I guess.” I feel the blush in my cheeks. I lose all filters around this man.
Alex pulls himself up a little to lean against the pillow, his glorious naked body sliding upwards under my bare breasts, tantalizing my still sensitive nipples. “Hmmm. Well, the actor in me says thank you,” he smiles down at me. “And regarding your curiosity, what would you like to know?”
I slightly regret saying anything at all to have it take this turn, however, his open-ended question peaks my interest further. But how would I word this?
Well, are you just a natural born amazing lover, or has experience led to the incredible skills? . . . Oh, experience, you say? . . . How many women, exactly, led to said experience?
Crazy right? I can’t ask him that.