Filthy Rich (Blackstone Dynasty #1)

I handed the card to Eduardo so he could read it.

Remembering our conversation from last night, I recalled how he’d offered me a ride, which I hadn’t accepted, but he hadn’t turned nasty when I’d declined his invitation. I appreciated that part of his personality most of all. A man who understood the word no wasn’t that easy to find in my limited experience. They seemed to be few and far between. I was tempted for a moment, to call the number written in bold black pen on the back of the card that I could now see clearly visible from Eduardo’s hand. But what would I say?

Caleb. I couldn’t help smiling when I remembered how cute he’d been with me over a tray of meatballs. Surely the most ridiculous conversation ever, yet he’d gone to the trouble to send me flowers that even looked like a meatball while in the bud stage. I studied the flowers again. The color was spot on. So pretty. Wow.

What a very clever man this Caleb was.

Incredibly handsome, too. Even wearing the results of that devastating blow to his head.

I endured the teasing of the peonies sitting prettily upon my desk for the next two hours before I said to hell with it and gave up the struggle. My excuse? I’m a woman and my curiosity won out. I sent him a text.



Caleb, thank you for the beautiful flowers in meatball red. Very lovely gesture . . . but . . . how did you know where to find me? –Brooke



My phone rang about one minute later, and I couldn’t help but smile for a second time.





Caleb

Yes,” I said when her text came through, maybe a little too enthusiastically, but what the fuck did I care? I owned the company, and Brooke had just given me her number.

Victoria stopped her rundown of my schedule and looked up from her notes curiously.

“I need to make a call—we’ll finish after lunch,” I told her, knowing she understood what I really meant. Which was, “get out and give me privacy.” Victoria Blakney was no dummy, and that was why she was my PA. She was also my best friend’s little sister and the perfect candidate for the job as my personal assistant. I’d known her since she was a toddler, and she knew the world in which I moved as well as or better than I did. Since it was the same world for her.

“The red peonies?” she asked as she got up from her chair.

“Maybe.” I added Brooke into my contacts and ignored Victoria.

“Thought so.” I could hear the smirk in her voice as she went out, closing my door with a soft click.

I hovered my finger over Brooke’s number for just an instant, realizing I was making a conscious decision to pursue her. So much for my vow to swear off women for a while. There was something about her I couldn’t turn away from. I had to know more.

My finger tapped the green circle.

It rang five times before she picked up, and with each ring I think my grip on the phone grew a little tighter.

“Hello, is this Caleb calling?” Ahhhh . . . that voice of hers had power . . . over me. She spoke and for some reason I lost the ability to speak. It was insane.

“Yes, Brooke, it is.”

“You have excellent taste in flowers. I’ve been enjoying them all morning, but why did you send them?”

“I thought you needed some cheering up after what happened last night.”

“Ah, that’s very kind of you, but how did you know I worked here?”

“I’d say it was fate, Brooke.”

“And how’s that?” I couldn’t tell if she was getting ready to tell me to get lost or not, so I figured I had nothing to lose by telling her the honest-to-God truth.

“I saw you yesterday morning getting coffee at Starbucks, and then you walked into the offices next door. When you showed up at the cocktail party serving, your boots reminded me that I’d seen you just that morning. I had to take a call and stepped under the eaves of your offices to be out of the way of sidewalk traffic, and I could see you through the front glass.”

“That was you?” A shot of something hit me painfully right between the chest, and I had to bring a hand up to rub it.

“Uh-huh, it was me. Why do I get the feeling you saw me as well, Brooke?”

“You were wearing sunglasses on account of the blow to your head?” Yep, she saw me.

“Yes. I was devastated by it, remember?”

She laughed and I wished I could see her. “Oh yes, I remember very well just how devastated you were, Caleb. You had absolutely no recollection of what a meatball was.”

“Right. I think my memory was slightly damaged from the devastating blow to my head, but thankfully you were there to clear up my confusion. I was lucky.”

“How is your injury today?” The fact that she asked was nice.

“Looks worse, but it doesn’t hurt a bit.”

“Well, I am happy to hear that, but Caleb, how did you know my name was Brooke?”

“I heard your boss call after you when you left the room.”

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