Page 12 of Filthy Rich

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 Blakeny 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 probably four years old, and she knew the world in which I moved as well 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 Ilostthe 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 howdevastatedyou 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.”

“You’re quite the Sherlock Holmes, aren’t you?”

“Not really, but my hearing is pretty good. For example, I heard you tell your cab driver to take you to the Blackstone Island Ferry Company, so using my superior powers of deduction, plus the fact you said you were going home, I am guessing you live on the island.”

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