Chasing Bristol (The Finding Trilogy Book 2) (3 page)

“Stop.” I glared at them playfully.

Amber composed herself. “Okay. Okay. But
who knows, maybe you’ll have something better with Mason.”

Julian wiped her mouth with a napkin
then gave her two cents. “If you guys met again so randomly, chances are you’ll
see him again soon. Just wait.”

“Yeah, or she could go to the station
and ask for him,” Amber teased.

“Okay, you two,” I smiled at them and
relaxed my body. “Like I said, I need time.”

Amber reached over to squeeze my arm.
“All right, enough is enough. Let’s hit the floor one more time and then
bounce.”

She dragged me and Julian to our feet
and ushered us back to the dance room. Everything that had happened over the
weekend and that day flew from my mind again while I let loose to the music,
but for some strange reason, Mason’s unraveling gaze and mesmerizing smile
seemed to be stuck in my head. No matter how buzzed I felt or how hard I tried,
I just couldn’t push him away like everything else.

A loud thud
startled me
out of sleep. Rolling over on my side, I squinted at
the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was after three in the morning. I pushed
off the covers and climbed out, still a bit woozy from drinking earlier.

Wandering into the kitchen, I grabbed a
water bottle from the fridge. I was about to have a sip when I glimpsed
something sticking in at the bottom of the door. Bewildered, I blinked to get a
better look.

It appeared to be a note.

Are you kidding me?
It was so damn late at night.  

Leaving my water bottle on the island, I
walked over to the door, turned the entry light on, and picked up the note. I
straightened and unfolded it. The handwriting was now familiar. It was from my
admirer. This was seriously starting to drive me nuts.

You looked like you were having fun tonight. Good.

Forget about that ungrateful boyfriend.

He doesn’t deserve you.

Soon, Bristol. Soon you’ll be mine and you’ll always be
loved. I promise.

X

Fear gripped me. The note fell from my
hand. My heart began to race. His words were startling. He’d been spying on me.

Nervous, I peered up at the front door
to make sure the chain was fastened. It was. I looked around the
apartment—nothing was out of place. Still, it unnerved me to know that my
secret admirer was watching me and my friends.

I’d never been so spooked in my life.
Who was this guy? What made him think this was sweet? Were my suspicions about
Mason dead on? If so, how did he know about Tyler?

Gawd!
Having an
admirer was so irritating.
Leave me alone damn it!

I flicked off the light and walked to
the kitchen to throw the note in the trash. Then I picked up the water and went
back to my bedroom.

Placing the bottle on my nightstand, I
turned off the lamp and slid under the covers. I was still on edge and glanced
at my room door a few times. Taking a deep breath, I settled down, rolled over,
and pulled the sheet over my head. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any more bangs
in the night or creepy notes left under my door.

After lunch on Tuesday, there was a
meeting at the office. George Wilcox and his son, Greg, stopped by to discuss
the fundraiser and the merger with Vanderson Publishing.

Greg Wilcox was quite the looker. He was
tall, sturdy in form, and had an air of confidence and conceitedness encircling
him. His father appeared frazzled, though, as if he’d reached his final limit
in life.

Mr. Wilcox hardly cracked a smile when
he greeted Beverly Vanderson and the department heads. He’d glower or sigh in
an exasperated way, while his son held a reserved, nonchalant expression the
entire time.

Gina, the event coordinator, asked me to
organize a list of potential venues for the company’s anniversary celebration
in August. It kept me busy for most of the day.

I stopped working for a moment to
stretch my fingers and finished the strawberry drink I’d brought back from
lunch. Tossing the empty plastic cup in the bin under my desk, I went back to
researching on the web.

Vibrations resounded from my purse. I
leaned over and snatched out my phone. The screen showed ‘unknown caller’.
Curious, I answered. “Hello.”

No one spoke.

“Hello?” I said again. No answer. Then I
heard someone breathe, cavernous and perverted.

I disconnected the call.

What a moron
.

Voices reverberated from the hallway. I
glimpsed Beverly Vanderson and the Wilcox men as they turned the corner. The
other department heads talked with them for a while before going their separate
ways. George Wilcox appeared more at ease, laughing with Beverly. His son
lingered in the office while she showed Mr. Wilcox around.

Greg caught me watching him. I looked
back at my computer fast. My phone started to vibrate again. I glanced at the
screen: caller unknown.

Ignoring it, I turned off my phone and
continued putting together the list. Someone came up to my desk, tapping the
wood with his long, thick fingers.

Lifting my head, I saw that it was Greg
Wilcox. A cocky grin arched his lips as his dark blues perused my features.

“Is there something I can help you
with?” I asked, baffled as to why he was standing there giving me the ‘I want
you’ look.

Greg rested on the edge of my desk,
making himself comfortable. “My father says I should get acquainted with you,”
he said smoothly. “Bristol Armando, is it?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Get acquainted with
me?”

He stuck his hand out to shake mine.
“Greg Wilcox. I’ve been told you’ll be assisting with the fundraiser.”

My mouth opened. “Seriously? I thought
Gina was handling that?”

“Well, Beverly has informed me that
you’ll be involved as well. I think it’s a good idea. It’ll give me and my
father a chance to see how you work, which is important given that he’s
considering you for the creative director position.”

My eyes widened. “Oh wow, thank you so
much.” I laughed in my excitement.

Julian appeared from down the hall then.
Seven in tow. He’d been out of town visiting his mother who had moved to New
Jersey following her divorce from his father.

Julian looked across at me, winked, and
then gave me thumbs up. I knew she’d put in a word for me, but I still wasn’t
expecting to be considered since I didn’t have much experience.

Grateful, I smiled at her. Greg noticed.
He slanted and looked at Julian for a second, then refocused on me. “Anyway,
Beverly and Gina says you’re a hard worker.”

“Yes, I am.” I noticed his hand and the
way he was tracing the wood with his fingers in a sensual way. I lifted my head
and added, “I always do my best.”

Impressed, a broad grin arched his lips
and showed off perfect, glistening whites. To my dismay, I started to think of
Mason, comparing the two men.

Mason was hotter.
Way hotter
.

“That’s good.” Greg’s voice nudged me
back to reality. “I always expect the best from anyone who works with me.”

“Oh.” I’d forgotten that Mr. Wilcox’s
son was involved in every aspect of his father’s company. This venture was
probably his idea. “I look forward to working with you then.”

Greg straightened and stuck his hands
inside his pants pockets. “Likewise. I’ll stop in more frequently so we can
plan and discuss the event further.”

His father and Ms. Vanderson strolled
back into the main lobby. He started over to them, but then stopped and said as
an afterthought, “I haven’t eaten. Would you care to join me for a late lunch?”

Yeah right
.

I feigned regret as I replied,
“Actually, I’ve already had lunch and I’m pretty busy with an assignment from
Gina.”

Greg frowned. “I see. No worries.”

None at all.
I’d piqued his intentions from the way he was undressing me with his bedroom
eyes.

He gave a cocky smirk before turning to
catch up with his father at the exit. I went back to work, feeling so elated
about the position that I couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

Leaving work that afternoon, I had
takeout for dinner before heading to the community center. As a sophomore, I’d volunteered
for college credits and liked the experience so much that I continued doing it.

Pulling up at the Newport Community
Center, I parked on the street and made my way toward the wrought iron gates.
Several kids were being dropped off for the after school programs.

“Hey Bristol,” a sweet little girl with
blonde pigtails waved after her mother left her at the gates.

She ran over and I lowered to give her a
hug. “Lauren! Gosh, you’re getting big.”

When I stepped back to look at her, she
giggled and tipped in her sneakers. “I can’t wait until I’m older, then Casey
won’t bug me anymore.”

“Oh, no. He’s still at it?”

She nodded while pouting. Casey was her
older brother and a super pain in the butt.

“Well, you tell him to stop messing with
you or he’ll answer to me.”

A toothy smile appeared on her round,
six-year-old face. “Thanks, Bristol.”

“No problem. Hurry inside now.”

“Okay. See you.” She gave me a high five
before taking off, her feet pitter-pattering up the concrete steps.

Lauren was one of the elementary school
kids I’d assisted in the art workshop. I had stayed with her group for the
first month, then transitioned to the pantry express when I discovered they
needed more help in that section.

Strolling past the low hedge, blue mist
shrubs, I continued around the side until I reached the back of the centuries
old stone building. There was a delivery van parked at the drop-off and Kathy,
another volunteer, was unloading fresh produce for the pantry.

I quickened my steps and climbed up
beside her. “Hey, Kathy. Need help?”

She shook her head. “It’s okay, dear.
I’m almost done. You can get started with setting up the boxes. We have a lot
to pack today.”