Page 3 of Finding His Forever

Fortunately, Cooper Sharp, or more likely his PA, alerted building operations of my delivery, so after a quick call to notify the resident of my arrival, I’m shown to the freight elevator and wheel my first wagonful of supplies inside, stopping to adjust the bag of fabric on my shoulder.

“Fifty-fourth floor. He’s expecting you,” the guard says, his gaze flicking to my stump as I brush the hair out of my face with it as the doors slide shut.

I’ve lived in Chicagoland my entire life, but never dreamed I’d have a reason to visit this luxury high-rise sandwiched between the Magnificent Mile and the lake. Even the freight elevator is spotless and smells like fresh-squeezed lemon. My heart thumps as I smoothly ascend toward the sky, my self-doubt matching pace as it creeps up my spine.

If this job goes well and I can get another testimonial, that would be great. I’ll leave some business cards, too. Hopefully, Cooper Sharp will pass them along to his sister, Gia’s mom, as I learned from the intake form, to share with her mom friends. But really, business is the last thing on my mind. Today, I’ve decided I’ve got other priorities.

And ironically, it was Penny, a teacher on the third-grade team at school, who planted the seed in my mind two weeks ago when she thought she was doing me a favor. Which she was, in fact, only it was the exact opposite of her intentions.

I’d been at the copy machine in the teacher’s workroom, struggling to clear a paper jam, when she came in to check her mailbox. Penny explained how she’d mentioned my business to a friend of hers, who was some sort of executive at her husband’s company, and that he might be booking a sleepover for his niece soon.

“His name is Cooper Sharp and—”

“He lives in Streeterville?”

Her eyes narrowed. “He booked already?”

“His personal assistant called on Monday and asked for the first available opening.”

Penny’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Of course, she did.”

Penny warned me off her friend six ways to Sunday telling me how, even though he’s a nice guy, he’s a bit of a playboy and I’m better to ignore the charm he might try to lay on me even though she warned him to be on his best behavior.

Little did she know, her words of caution had the exact opposite effect of what she hoped for.

I rest the wagon handle against my hip, so I can straighten my black work shirt and jeans with my hand and then square my shoulders. When the elevator stops and the doors slide open, I see why no apartment number was necessary. There’s only one door, or rather a massive slate gray double-door, in sight.

I use my stump to ring the doorbell and glance around, looking for the security cameras. Sure enough, there are at least two in this small vestibule. Maybe, Cooper will see I have a physical deformity before he opens the door, and I’ll be spared the usual lingering glances and uncomfortable hesitation.

I’m not so lucky. It’s barely a second later when the door swings open and warm, hazel eyes meet mine. Eyes that seem to sparkle with interest or maybe mischief.

“Ms. Watts.” In two words, his self-assured low, delicious tone confirms everything Penny told me about him and reaffirms my plan to lose my virginity to this man.

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Please, call me Eve.”

“Eve, then, welcome.” He rakes me from head-to-toe, lingering for a second on my left arm where it ends a few inches above where a wrist and hand should be. I’ve been subjected to worse, and fortunately, the look contains no sign of pity or revulsion, and he recovers quickly.

Smooth as silk, he steps back and welcomes me inside with a wave of his arm and a perfect smile that could melt a glacier. Or set fire to my loins. Or both.

My heart skips a beat as I haul the wagon into the foyer then pause while he circles behind me to close the door. I shoot a glance over my shoulder to see that he does, in fact, check out my ass. It’s a good sign.

In fact, everything about him is exactly as I expected after my brief internet research. Cooper is tall with broad shoulders that fill out the soft black T-shirt that stretches across his chest. His sandy brown hair is tousled, and his stubble-covered jaw is as angular as any male model’s.

“Please, come in.” He leads me past a framed, neutral-colored impressionist painting that probably cost more than my annual salary.

“This is quite a statement piece,” I say, complimenting the picture.

He glances up at it as if seeing it for the first time. “You like it?”

“I prefer abstract art with more color, but this has an interesting interplay of light and shadow.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he says, offering me another smile. Then he reaches for the wagon handle.

“Need a hand with that?” He pauses as if realizing his faux pas.

“I’m good. Thanks.” I try to keep the bite out of my voice, but a hard edge slips in out of habit.

“I’m sorry. I only meant—”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com