Unplanned Love: Love In Spring, #2

Chapter 1

Y ou. Lousy. Pig!

The smartphone sailed past Donnie’s shoulder, narrowly missing his head as he ducked just in time. It smacked against the white lacquered door of the wardrobe and fell to the floor with a thud. Charlotte Wingate stomped into what should’ve been her new office and headed toward her boyfriend and their half-naked boss, who was currently busy buttoning up her blouse as she eased off Donnie’s lap. The image of her boyfriend with his pants down, his shirt unbuttoned, and their boss on top of him would remain branded in her mind forever. How could he do this to her?

Is this why you didn’t give me the promotion I deserved? The promotion I worked so hard for? Charli stared straight at Penelope, who was now back to her usual, self-assured self. If it weren’t for the blush on her cheeks and her slightly smudged lipstick, Charli wouldn’t have noticed anything different in her. Because I lack an appendage?

Penelope let out an annoyed huff, straightening her skirt. Charli, stop it. This has nothing to do with the promotion. He deserved it. I knew he’d do a better job.

I worked like a slave for you, Pen. Don’t tell me he deserved the promotion. I brought him here.

Penelope nodded. Yes, and I’m grateful you did. Donnie will make a great partner in the company, and the fact that we’re attracted to each other doesn’t make a difference.

The hell it does! Charli threw her hands in the air and glared at Donnie. "I can’t believe you’d be willing to prostitute yourself to get the job, my job." She wished she had laser vision that could set him on fire. She’d love to watch him burn to ashes in the office he’d stolen from her.

This was never your job, Charli. Penelope stood tall next to Donnie, as if she wanted to protect him. It made sense she’d try to be a mother hen, after all. "I never said I’d make you a partner. Because this is my company, at the end of the day, so I’ve got the final say on who’s doing what."

The way she emphasized the possessive pronoun made Charli’s blood boil. Pen had never really cared about her company—as long as she could take the merit for Charli’s successes and cash the checks that would allow her to keep up her high-end lifestyle, she was okay.

Charli had nearly worked herself to death to make sure all deadlines were met, all clients were satisfied, and all events went without a glitch. She had never had an unhappy customer in the nearly five years she’d worked at Golden Gate Events, and the money Pen had made had mostly been thanks to Charli. The other two junior planners weren’t half as good as she was, and Donnie definitely didn’t deserve a promotion that had always had Charli’s name in big, glittering letters.

You know just as well as I do that he—she made a point to try her laser vision just in case she’d magically gained it in the meantime—doesn’t deserve this promotion. He hasn’t even been here a full year yet, and he’s never organized a single event without my supervision. She crossed her arms on her chest and glared a bit more for good measure. You have no idea how many times I’ve had to come up with last-minute solutions to save an event he’d nearly screwed. Why don’t you tell her, Donnie?

He shrugged. I think you’re exaggerating. Just because you’re upset things didn’t work out between us, you shouldn’t try to sully my reputation.

Just to make things clear, she said, taking a step toward him and pointing her index finger at his face. I’m not upset that things didn’t work out with you because, honestly, you were quite a let-down. Both in and out of bed.

It wasn’t the scorned girlfriend talking now. It was the truth. Seeing her boyfriend fooling around with another woman—their boss, to make things worse—had somehow opened her eyes and made her realize what she’d been trying to hide for months. She’d never really loved Donnie. She had probably never been in love with him, either. They’d taken their relationship outside the office, but they hadn’t done much more than talk about their job, work over the weekends, and plan things they would be doing in the office on Monday. Sure, there had been dinners, movies, even a weekend in Napa once—but because Pen had asked them to go and check out the venue of an event they were planning a few days in advance. It had never been a real relationship—just an extension of their work collaboration outside the building where Golden Gate Events was located.

And well, she wasn’t exaggerating when she said he was a let-down in bed, either. Their intimate times had been few and far between, and those few times had been all about how fast he could get it over with for both of them so they could go back to talking about work.

Ugh! How could she have been so stupid? How had she been so blind?

It was Ellie’s fault.

After her best friend left San Francisco to move to an uncivilized beach town in Oregon in July last year, Charli had been left alone. In the six months Ellie had been gone, Donnie and her job were all Charli had. With all of her family in Texas and her only friend in Oregon, spending time with Donnie had become more force of habit than an actual pleasure. But she’d been okay with it. She didn’t care for settling down and starting a family—not now, not ever. She’d wanted to be a partner in Penelope’s company, and maybe one day even start her own company.

Charli, I think it’s better if you go home now. Open a bottle of wine, calm down, and tomorrow we can talk about the changes in the company. Penelope spoke calmly, as if she hadn’t just been caught straddling Charli’s boyfriend. The image made her sick.

Calm down? Calm down, my foot! She swiped her hand forcefully across Donnie’s desk—what should’ve been her desk—and a pile of papers, folders and a couple of notebooks crashed to the floor. You’ve just given my promotion to my boyfriend only because you’re sleeping with him! In a fit of rage, she stomped on the papers with her three-inch heels, then kicked them all around the floor. And you know what hurts the most? Not the fact that you purposely did it even though you knew he was dating me, no. She shook her head and gave another kick, sending more paper flying. What hurts is that all this time you’ve exploited me, taken advantage of my dedication to this job, my abilities, my excitement for the job, and my goals, but when it was time to reward someone, you chose him because he had sex with you. She shook her head again as the sting of tears told her it was time to go, before they thought she was crying because of him. And you, lousy, cheating pig. You used me to get into the company, to steal the job you knew I was after. I saved your ass more than once, and this is how you thank me.

Charli, honestly—

Shut up! She stomped her foot, and he took a step back. She was probably acting like a crazy woman, but who cared anymore. Pen, do you think I’d be okay working here, taking orders from him—from both of you, now?

Well, you’ve been an important asset to the company and—

You should’ve thought about that before you pulled my boyfriend’s pants down. She took a step forward, toward them. Donnie took a step to the side, like the coward he was, and shielded himself behind the leather chair. Penelope stood her ground, fisting her hands on her hips as if to intimidate her. Charli wanted to laugh. Seriously? Was that the best she could do?

She crouched and picked up her phone from the floor. There was a small crack on the screen, but all in all it looked okay. Most of her contacts and her recent e-mails were on that phone. And she’d be dead before she let Donnie have them.

She plopped the phone into her purse, pulled the strap further up her shoulder and took a long, fortifying breath. Oh, and by the way… I quit.

The words felt as good as they felt scary.

Charli, don’t make impulsive decisions you’ll regret. Penelope stepped forward, reaching out her hands as if she wanted to hug her. If she only dared, Charli would bite her. Seriously.

I’m worth more than this, and if you can’t see it, someone else will. She lifted her chin and stared straight into Pen’s eyes. And I’m not the one who’s making impulsive decisions here. He’s a great charmer, but he lacks skills in both the work and sex departments. But who am I to judge what you like, after all?

Penelope let out a gasp as Charli spun around and strutted out of her office with a sway of her hips. Served her right. Not that Charli was an expert as far as guys and sex were concerned, but she could definitely say that Donnie had never made her feel like they do in the movies or in books. There had never been any toe-curling, heart-stopping moments, no screaming of names and asking for more. She wouldn’t include those few times they’d slept together in her list of the most amazing experiences of her life. Then again, maybe it was something to do with her; judging by the way Pen had been panting and moaning, perhaps it was Charli who hadn’t been able to appreciate his skills.

Yuck, the image of those two together made her shudder. She needed to pick up her stuff and get out of this place as soon as possible, before she threw up all over the polished tiled floor—or before she gave in to instinct and walked back to teach Donnie a lesson he wouldn’t forget. Her three older brothers had taught her a few useful techniques when she was a teenager, in case a guy made an unwelcome move on her and they weren’t around to help her; those would come in useful now.

If this thing had taught her a lesson, though, it was that men were just a useless distraction on her path to a successful career. She wouldn’t let anyone within arm’s reach until she was sitting on the top of the corporate ladder, either as a partner or as the owner of her own event company. And even then, she’d probably keep them all at a distance, just in case.

It was time to start a new life.

Chapter 2

There weren’t many things Charli hated, but driving on solitary country roads with rain mixed with ice pellets pelting against the windshield was quickly escalating to the top of the chart with every mile that took her further away from civilization. She squinted through the windscreen of her VW Beetle, and nothing but fields and trees met her eyes. Could this day get any worse?

She’d been on the road for seven hours and thirty minutes, driving nearly non-stop all the four hundred miles from San Francisco to Spring Harbor, Oregon where her friend Ellie was getting married in a week. She felt as if she’d been driving for days, though, especially once she crossed the border and left California behind. Clouds had started coming in the moment she saw the green Welcome To Oregon sign on the side of the road. As if Mother Nature was having fun testing her resolution and resistance, the first lone drops started falling two hundred yards past the sign, and the sky turned darker, the rain turning into a mix of water and ice the farther she drove. Under other circumstances, she would’ve probably loved the scenic drive along the rugged coast. Today, though, she didn’t exactly feel like enjoying it, not after the weeks she’d had.

Sure, she could’ve booked a flight and asked her friend to pick her up from the airport, which was only approximately ninety miles away from her destination, but considering her friend now lived in the thick of the woods, Charli had reckoned her car would come handy. Especially now that she didn’t have a place to stay anymore and wouldn’t want to go back to San Francisco just to pick up her car after the wedding.

Two weeks after leaving her job, she’d come to the conclusion that her chances of finding another one without any references from her ex-boss were going to be pretty slim. And when she ran into Lousy Pig twice in a week, and one of those times he was playing lovebirds with Penelope at a café near the office, she realized she could no longer stay there. Besides, without a job she wouldn’t be able to afford the rent she’d been struggling to pay all on her own after Ellie left. She still had a couple of months left to finish paying off her student loan, and she had no intention of taking money from her family, or using the trust fund her grandmother had set up when Charli was just a kid and that had become available to her upon turning twenty-five. That money would stay right where it was until she was ready to start her own business. Not a cent would be spent for anything else.

So she’d called her landlord, packed up her life, put what little furniture she and Ellie had bought up for sale in a second-hand shop, and hopped into her car with all that she owned neatly packed into two big suitcases, a travel bag, and a carry-on. She’d told Ellie she’d show up a couple of days before the wedding, to deal with all the last-minute details she hadn’t been able to take care of from San Francisco, but she was sure her friend wouldn’t be suspicious if she came a week before instead. She’d already planned to tell Ellie she’d taken a few extra days off so she could personally take care of all the preparations on site. She wasn’t going to spoil Ellie’s big day with her sorry tale of a cheating boyfriend and missed promotion, at least not until her friend had a ring on her finger.

Now, as she drove on unfamiliar roads that seemed to belong in a horror movie, she couldn’t help questioning her sanity—as well as her friend’s. Seriously, who would want to live in the middle of nowhere?

The wind picked up, blowing through the tall trees and making them sway dangerously as it whistled around the car, against the windshield and the windows. A particularly strong gust shook the car, and a second later a branch fell off a tree, some two hundred feet ahead. She instinctively stomped on the brake, shrieking as the car skidded sideways with a three-sixty and stopped at the side of the road. She collapsed against the steering wheel, letting out a sigh of relief. Mother Nature had a sick sense of humor indeed. Well, at least she wasn’t dead, and her car was intact, it seemed.

Once her heart rate returned to normal, she turned the key in the ignition, wanting to reach her destination as soon as possible. The engine sputtered—and stopped. Her heart took a dive and her throat constricted.

No. Way.

She tried again, pressing down on the gas pedal as the car once again spluttered and coughed like a dying man taking his last breath.

No. No, no, no, no. Please, no!

Fine, no problem. She’d call AAA, and they’d send a tow truck and take her to Spring Harbor. No big deal. It shouldn’t be too far anyway, and that was what insurance was for, right?

She reached for her phone in the cup holder and held it up. She tapped the screen, but nothing happened. She tapped again, a little more forcefully, and pressed the on switch, but the screen remained black.

You stupid phone, she screamed, slamming it against the seat. You were working just fine this morning, and now you’re leaving me?

She slammed her fist on the console and winced at the pain that shot up from her hand.

Stupid car, stupid phone, stupid country roads!

She took a deep breath, held it in while she counted to five, then let it all out on a half whoosh, half groan. Eventually, she collapsed against the wheel and let out an annoyed grunt. Okay, this had to be the lowest this day could get. Now it could only get better, right?

Okay, Charli. You can do this. You’re an efficient businesswoman who’s used to dealing with last-minute glitches, she said out loud, staring at her reflection in the rearview mirror. You just need to stop panicking and start thinking. You can pull this off.

She gave a fake smile, trying to look more in control than she actually felt—the same look she’d practiced and used more than once with clients when something went wrong during an event.

I can do this. I can so do this.

Okay, so. We just need a plan of action now. Talking out loud to herself as if there were a twin Charli sitting next to her was a technique she’d learned would help her get over the panic and find a solution faster. Little did it matter that people might think she was crazy. I should probably pop the hood and check if something’s wrong. She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, as if you’d be able to tell the carburetor from the radiator. Okay, think. Think." She pressed both index fingers to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. A moment later, there was a knock on the driver’s side window, and she shrieked like the protagonist of a horror movie.

You okay there? A man with a scruffy face and a navy-blue ball cap stared at her with a frown from outside the car. Visions from that episode of Criminal Minds she’d watched with Donnie just a few weeks before flashed in front of her eyes, and she saw her lifeless body lying in a ditch by the side of this godforsaken country road, while coyote and bears feasted on her tender flesh. Her right hand grabbed her purse from the passenger seat, and she pulled out her handgun and pointed it at the man standing outside the car. His face came a little closer to the window as he squinted inside.

Step back or I’ll shoot you!

He jumped back, holding up his hands in front of him. Whoa there, lady! Chill out. I only wanted to help.

Yeah, well, I’ve already called for help. The cops are on the way, she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. He wouldn’t be able to tell she was lying, would he? Nor could he tell that the .38 caliber in her shaky hands was, in fact, a toy gun. She’d agreed to keep a handgun in her purse upon Donnie’s insistence, just so he’d stop annoying her. She’d been raised in Texas, and her father had taught her and her brothers how to shoot when they turned sixteen, claiming they’d never know when it might come handy, but she’d never really been comfortable around weapons.

Right now, stuck in her broken-down car in Nowhere, Oregon, she wished her gun was real, though. Could this be the end?

The stranger took another step backward and shook his head. No need to get defensive. I only wanted to help, but if you’re sure you’re okay—

I am. Go away. She waved the gun in front of her and thought she heard him mutter something that sounded like ‘crazy woman’, but with the rain pelting against the roof of the car it was hard to make out the exact words. She watched as he climbed into a red and silver pick-up, and as he finally drove away, something akin to dread squeezed her gut. What if he hadn’t been a serial killer but just an old-fashioned gentleman who really only wanted to help a damsel in distress? What if she’d just sent away the only Good Samaritan who could’ve helped her reach that stupid town her friend now called home, and nobody else showed up? Would Ellie get worried and send out a search party? And how long would it take them to find her? Would they know which way to go looking for her? Or would she have to spend the night locked in the car, fending off wolves and bears? A trickle of perspiration trailed slowly down her spine, and a sudden chill shook her to the bones.

This, my dear Charlotte, may very well be the end.

Chapter 3

When Kean Cavanagh had gotten into his truck on a chilly, rainy, early February morning, one week before his brother’s wedding, he’d planned to enjoy a quiet ride on the scenic route along the coast that would take him to Gold Beach, enjoy a coffee with his buddy who owned the wholesaler shop where Kean shopped for his construction company, and then drive back in time for lunch with his friend Scott at Spring Delights, Kean’s mother’s bakery and café.

But he’d learned that life had a way of messing up even the best thought-out plans, so when he’d noticed the silver car stranded on the side of the road, he hadn’t been able to drive by and stick to his schedule. No, he’d had to stop and offer assistance—assistance that wasn’t needed, apparently.

Five minutes later, as he drove away from the crazy woman with the gun, he couldn’t shake the sense of guilt burning in his stomach. His parents had been adamant he and his two younger brothers knew how to behave, to help people in need, and to always treat ladies right. Hard to do that with a Glock aimed at your face, though.

He hated thinking that the woman, who’d looked totally out of place on top of obviously being stranded, could still be there waiting for someone to help, while he’d driven away. She said she’d called the police, but as he’d taken a step back, away from the car and the gun, he’d been pretty sure she was lying, judging by the distressed expression she’d had on her face when he knocked on her window.

The thought gnawed at him all the way to Gold Beach, but he focused on the slippery road and pushed it back. He’d offered help and she’d nearly shot him. Since she turned away his help, she was no longer his problem.

Guillermo had Kean’s order already by the door when he stopped in front of the shop, and he helped him load it onto the truck and cover it with the silver-gray tarp.

You have time for a coffee? My wife made a plum cake, since she knew you’d be coming today.

Kean grinned. You know, if she weren’t your wife and I wouldn’t risk losing my best supplier, I’d ask her to marry me.

Guillermo chuckled, shaking his head at the old joke Kean liked to make whenever Guillermo’s wife prepared some treats especially for him. Sonja was nearly as old as Kean’s own mother, and she liked to spoil him as if he were her son. She and her husband had three daughters, and she used to tell him she would’ve loved him as a son-in-law. A few months back she’d eventually managed to make him go to dinner with their youngest daughter, Claudia. She was a nice girl, funny even, but she wasn’t interested in him and he hadn’t felt a spark either. After that night, Sonja stopped trying to turn him into a member of her family, and had resigned herself to baking cakes for him whenever she knew he’d be in town. Having the sweet tooth that he did, he never said no.

They had a cup of freshly brewed coffee in Guillermo’s back office and a slice of cake, and when Kean mentioned his encounter with the crazy woman in the Beetle, Guillermo cried with laughter.

When Kean finally left the shop, thanking him for the coffee and the cake, Guillermo told him to make sure he took another way into town, just in case the crazy woman with the gun was still there, waiting to ambush him.

Kean laughed, but he couldn’t shake the ugly feeling he’d pushed back when he reached Guillermo’s store. As he drove back in the direction of Spring, he wished someone had rescued the crazy woman, so he wouldn’t have to stop and risk his life again, just because he was an old-fashioned gentleman who couldn’t help coming to the rescue of a lady in trouble.

As he approached the silver VW Beetle, a groan escaped his lips when he noticed the woman was still inside the car. If she’d really called the cops like she claimed she had, Adam’s patrol car would be parked next to hers right now or she would be in Spring already. Even though his brother no longer worked as a city cop in Seattle, he still took his job as a deputy sheriff very seriously, and would have no doubt jumped into his Spring Harbor Sheriff car and come to the rescue. Why the woman had lied was beyond him.

He slowed down and, this time, he parked right behind the Beetle, thinking he’d be closer in case he needed to run for cover—if the crazy woman decided to shoot him. He got out of his truck and cautiously approached the car, glad the rain had finally let up and he didn’t have to get soaked. As he stood by the driver’s side, he peeked inside. The woman was hugging the steering wheel, her long dark hair covering her face, so he wasn’t quite sure whether she was asleep, crying, or even dead. Well, at least she wasn’t holding a gun in her hand this time. He raised his fist and knocked on the window, ready to duck.

Charli had been stuck on that road for close to an hour, or maybe even longer, and not a single vehicle had passed by since she’d sent the Good Samaritan away. At the sound of a knock on the glass, she bolted up straight, and her hand automatically reached for the gun on the seat.

Don’t shoot me. I just want to help.

She looked outside and winced at the sight of the Good Samaritan, who maybe was just a stalker who’d come back to finish what he hadn’t been able to even start before.

How do I know you’re not some kind of crazy killer? She shouted to be heard through the closed window, waving the gun in front