Wrapped Around My Heart Read online

  Wrapped Around My Heart

  Kelly Collins

  Copyright © 2017 by Kelly Collins

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  To my family who are like the sweet little candies hanging from the tree. I love you.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Thank you for reading.

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  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Jess

  Eight o’clock in the morning was my favorite time of day. Not because I’d already had one perfect vanilla latte. Not because the muffins at Baby Cakes were still warm, although that was a bonus. It was because at exactly eight o’clock every morning, Mark Cantwell walked into the office and smiled, and my life became perfect.

  “Good morning, Jess.” He sauntered toward me and looked to the coffee pot, which sputtered out his cup of famously strong brew. He liked espresso on steroids. Double dark. Double strong. Double delicious. He claimed it put hair on his chest. Something I didn’t doubt but wanted the opportunity to confirm. Mark Cantwell’s chest had become one of my many obsessions since I started working for him nine months ago.

  And just like every morning, I stood in his way, and he slid his hand across my back while reaching for his favorite mug. The one that said, Show Me the Money.

  “Grab a cup and come to my office.” His fingers breezed slowly across the small of my back and disappeared, leaving me wishing his coffee took longer to brew.

  “I’ll be right there.” If I were a savvy planner, I would put his cup to brew two minutes later, so he’d have to leave his hand on my back. But I was more interested in making sure Mark got everything he needed because at the end of the day, that was my job. My purpose was to ensure Mark Sexy-As-Hell Cantwell’s full satisfaction.

  I picked up the box of muffins and my notepad on the way to his office. The morning huddle was a ritual I prayed never ended. It didn’t include the other brokers in the firm. It was just him and me and a box of muffins for thirty minutes. It was the second-best part of my day. Only second because during this time, he never touched me.

  My heels click-clacked across the white marble floor to his office. His desk sat to the side of a wall of windows that overlooked Los Angeles, but it was not that view that took your breath away. Nope, the man in the navy blue suit paired with the simple white shirt and a crimson tie did that. One look at him and you knew you were not dealing with a mere mortal; you were dealing with a financial god.

  “Did you send the memo out to the team?”

  I placed the box of muffins on his desk and arranged his favorite pumpkin spice muffin on a napkin in front of him. Not because I had to but because I wanted to. I sat with my ankles crossed and feet tucked under the chair as I leaned forward, hating the expanse of desk between us.

  “Yes. I’m assuming you’re talking about the Christmas bonuses for this year.”

  “I’d prefer to call them profit sharing.”

  I reached into the box and pulled out a cranberry orange muffin and picked at the edge. Above the paper liner was the only place a muffin top was acceptable. The snug waistband of my skirt served as a reminder to go easy on the muffins and schedule some gym time.

  “I sent the memo out last night.” Employees who’d been with the company for a year or more benefit from profit sharing. I’d fallen three months short.

  “Not a fan of Christmas?”

  “I don’t see the point.” He shuffled through the papers on his desk and slid one single sheet across to me. “I need you to pull the latest data on this company.”

  I looked at the name: Braxton, Brix, and Billow. “I pulled it for you last week.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And?”

  I smiled. “And I’ll be happy to pull the numbers for you again.” I sipped my coffee and stared at him while he shuffled through another pile of papers I’d left on his desk the night before.

  “Thank you.” He lifted his head for the briefest of moments and gave me a slip of a smile. I loved this little power exchange we had going. He’d demand, and I’d push back. Not a lot, just enough to get him to smile.

  “Is this a hostile takeover?” It was a valid question since the man gobbled up companies like I did chocolate candies.

  Mark laughed. “No, it’s something new.” He brought a pen to his mouth and chewed on the end, then laid it on the desktop. “It’s a partnership.”

  I was tempted to snatch the pen he’d been chewing on but let that thought go. Instead, I leaned in like I would if I were to tell him a secret.

  “Can I be candid with you?”

  He leaned in like every word I uttered was important. “I always want you to be honest with me, Jess.”

  I lifted my head so we were eye to eye. “Forgive me for saying, but you don’t come across as the kind of man who plays nicely with others.”

  He looked up at me with eyes the same color as a smog-free California sky. “Oh, I’m really quite good at playing, Ms. Stone.”

  He only used my last name when he was making a point he didn’t want me to forget, but what was his point? His words seemed naughty in nature. Combined with his sly smile, and I was certain he was teasing me.

  “I’d love to see that, Mr. Cantwell.” I made a note to get him the report within the hour. “But in all honesty, you don’t seem the type of man who likes to share, and a partnership implies sharing.”

  He sat back and folded his arms across his broad chest. The smooth fabric of his custom suit gripped his muscles. “We’re talking about two different things. I can play all day and never have to share.” He took the last bite of his muffin and watched me for a second. “I never share. Once something is mine, it’s mine forever.”

  A shiver ran down my spine. He was probably talking about money or possessions, but when he looked at me and said those words, my heart beat wildly. What would it be like to be Mark Cantwell’s woman for a minute—a day—forever?

  When the meeting wrapped up, I had a to-do list a page long. I rose from the chair and smoothed out the creases on my gray pencil skirt. “What would you like for lunch today?”

  He stood like he did every morning before I left, and he walked me to the door. “Chinese takeout for two.”

  “Two?” I asked with an ache in my heart. Did that mean he had a lunch date? I scrolled through his calendar in my head and came up with nothing. I knew everything about his business life and nothing about his personal life. I liked to pretend he didn’t have a life outside of work, but that was silly. The man was a walking billboard for successful and virile.

  “Yes, Jess, two, and plan to spend your lunch with me. I’ll give this sharing thing a try.”

  My heart leapt with joy. The only time we shared lunch was when a deadline was looming and his upper-level executives met around the conference table. Those days I usually served and cleaned up and took notes. This was different. We would be alone.

&
nbsp; Within the hour, I had the report he requested. I’d ordered enough Chinese food for a half-dozen people, and I had looked at the clock on my computer at least ten times, wishing that time would fly by so I’d get another serving of Mark.

  It was absolutely insane the way I crushed on him. At twenty-eight, I should be past that stage in my life.

  At least I didn’t have an entire notebook of newspaper clippings like I did when Justin Bieber was coming on the scene. Every dime I had as a teenager was spent on Teen Beat magazines.

  The distinctive ringtone for my sister sounded from the bottom drawer of my desk and pulled me from visions of young singers and hot bosses. Bethany’s ringtone was the song from Jaws that played just before the sharp-toothed beast ripped apart its prey.

  Duuun dun duuun dun duuun dun doo dedoo doo dedoo dede doo chomp.

  “Hello, Bethany. What’s up?”

  “Good morning to you too.” A little huff of disgruntlement shaded her voice. “Do you answer all your calls like that? It’s a surprise you’re still employed.”

  Taken aback, I replayed the four words I’d said in my head. “Generally, I start with a greeting and then move on.”

  “With a what’s up? Real professional there, Jess.” In the background was the sound of a vacuum cleaner, which meant Bethany’s housekeeper was hard at work.

  “First of all, you called my cell and not the office, but I don’t want to argue with you about it.” Arguing with Bethany was as painful as a root canal without the benefit of Novocain.

  “Why change things now? You argue with me about everything.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly and silently. “How’s Ben?” That usually was a good deflection technique. Ask Bethany about herself or her child and she was happy. As long as the world rotated around her, all went well.

  “He’s out with Sasha.” Our mother had raised two children while working full time, but Bethany had had a nanny since the day she brought Ben home four years ago. She traded in au pairs like other people did cars on a short-term lease. Sasha was the newest edition and came from Russia. “I’m not sure she’ll last. She’s young and inexperienced. She’s more of a toy to play with than a role model.”

  What that said loud and clear to me was she was far too pretty to keep full-time in the house.

  “That’s too bad. So …”

  “Right, back to the reason I called. I wanted to talk about Christmas.”

  “I’ve already got your present, so no last-minute wishes.” It was the same every year. I’d get her something, and she’d tell me at the last minute what she really wanted, which I’d run out and get. Then, on Christmas morning, it was always wrong. The right brand, but the wrong color. The right idea, but the wrong brand. When it came to Bethany, I was always wrong, but I never stopped trying.

  “You’re arriving tomorrow, right?”

  I looked at my calendar. It couldn’t be tomorrow. I hadn’t even packed yet, but she was right: Tomorrow was the twenty-second, and my flight left after work.

  “I’ll be getting in really late tomorrow night.”

  “I can’t wait. I bought you the most awesome gift this year. You’re going to love it.”

  I rolled my eyes. Last year her awesome gift was a jar of Nad’s hair remover and a bottle of wrinkle cream.

  “I’m excited to give you my gift too.” I always did something thoughtful. Last year I had her baby shoes bronzed. She said she loved them, but then pointed out the bubble in the finish. After years of criticism, I had finally realized that no matter what I gave her—even if it was the Hope Diamond—she would find some flaw simply because the gift was from me.

  “What did you get me this year? Stationery?”

  I nearly dropped the phone because that’s exactly what I had bought her. Personalized stationery on linen paper with embossed envelopes, to be exact. Now what? “Of course not.” I’d be running out later for a new gift.

  “Well, it would have been nice,” she said wistfully, as if the gift had been on her bucket list for years. She cleared her throat in that mean-girl-pay-attention-to-me way. “The real reason I’m calling is to see if you want to go in on a last-minute gift to Mom and Dad. As a parent, I understand how taxing raising a family can be. How difficult it is to put yourself first.”

  I pulled the phone away from my face so she wouldn’t hear me groan. “Go on.”

  “I’ve purchased a cruise to Alaska for them.”

  My stomach clenched. “You already purchased the cruise?”

  “I knew you’d say yes since you have this big-time job now as some man’s secretary.” She said the word secretary like it was bitter on her tongue.

  “I’m an executive assistant, not a secretary.”

  “It’s all the same.” I could see her in my head dismissing me with a simple wave of her hand. “Anyway, your half is roughly thirty-five hundred dollars. They are going to be so excited. You can thank me later.”

  I wanted to hit her now. “Bethany, that’s a lot of money.” I didn’t have thirty-five hundred dollars sitting around with nothing to do. I lived in Los Angeles, which came with a higher salary for sure, but it also came with higher rent, insurance, and food costs.

  “Oh,” she said in a voice that surely matched her resting bitch face. “Come on, Jess, it’s a rounding error. Surely you can fork over a few bucks to make our parents happy.”

  She knew exactly where to hit a girl, and it wasn’t in the gut. No, Bethany reached out and twisted my heart. I wouldn’t let her see that I was almost on my knees. Even if I had to take an advance on my credit card, I’d get her the money.

  “No, that’s perfect. I’ll bring the money with me.”

  “You will?” There was a moment of silence. “Super. Don’t forget my present.”

  I hung up the phone and sunk low in my chair. What the hell was I going to do?

  Chapter 2

  Jess

  I laid out a veritable smorgasbord on Mark’s desk with the small white containers opened to reveal sweet and savory dishes.

  I moved down the row to give him the names of the dishes.

  Beef with broccoli.

  Cashew chicken.

  General Tso’s chicken.

  Peking shrimp.

  Sautéed eggplant and tofu.

  Crispy fire beef.

  “This is my favorite.” I plucked a piece of beef from the box with perfect chopstick technique and held it to his lips. “You think it’s going to be sweet when you first taste it, but it’s surprisingly hot.”

  He took the bite and coughed, then reached for the diet soda I’d put on the desk to extinguish the fire I knew would blaze in his mouth. “Holy hell, that’s like a volcano.”

  “Surprised?”

  His tongue darted out to lick his lips, and my knees buckled.

  “You always surprise me.”

  I pulled my chair forward.

  “How so?” I was all ears.

  “I don’t know. You manage to keep me on track. You always go above and beyond what’s required and …” He turned from me and stared out the window. “I like you, and I don’t like many people.”

  I reached my chopsticks into the eggplant with tofu. “Mr. Cantwell,” I said with a teasing lilt to my voice, “that almost sounded like a compliment.”

  “Are you in need of a little ego stroking, Jess?” He reached across the desk and stole my piece of tofu before I could get it into my mouth.

  “Everyone needs a little stroking sometimes.” I couldn’t believe I’d said that, and by the expression of surprise on Mark’s face, it was apparent he was shocked I’d said it too.

  He swallowed and studied me for a moment. “Do you?”

  I choked on my next bite and reached for my soda at the same time he did. Our hands touched, and a rod of lightning jolted me back.

  He slid the can to the edge of the desk. “Drink before I’m forced to give you mouth to mouth.” He lifted his brows.

  Our conve
rsation was put on hold when the phone rang. I sprung to my feet to grab the line, but Mark shook his head and pointed back to my seat.

  “Cantwell Financial. This is Mark Cantwell.”

  I gave him a thumbs up, and he smiled. The next words out of his mouth made me smile.

  “What’s up?” he said to the person on the end of the line. To have a recording of that would have been awesome. I could play it for Bethany so she’d see that casual greetings weren’t out of line.

  I could only hear the bits from Mark’s end of the conversation.

  “Yes.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “That’s fantastic.”

  “Of course. We’ll make it work.”

  “Aspen?”

  He looked at me.

  “That will be fine.”

  “See you then.”

  He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. A smile bloomed across his face. “Braxton, Brix, and Billow want to make the deal.”

  “That’s great. What’s the deal?”

  “We’ll be taking over half of their client base. They want to move into a different market, and so the capital they’ll earn from the sale gives them the cash flow they need to change directions.”

  I played with a piece of broccoli. “So it’s not really a partnership so much as a partial takeover.” He snatched the broccoli I’d picked up and plopped it into his mouth. “Hey, that’s twice you’ve taken what’s mine.”

  His smile could make an iceberg melt. “You’re right, I’m not very good at sharing, but I’m awesome at closing the deal. This one is huge. It puts me at least a year ahead of growth projections.”