Chapter 8

Cheyanne

I thinkboth Chandler and I were protective of each other, but because I wasn't as vocal about my feelings for him, I showed them with how I covered him. It was always difficult for me to sit in on meetings where Chandler was undervalued, unappreciated, or sometimes disrespected. That didn't happen often. He had a reputation of making it clear that beyond the money and expensive suits that he was nothing to be fucked with. Still, there were some instances where he'd choose to be professional when I wanted him to be off with someone's head. Today's meeting was an example of that.

We were meeting with the board for one of the newest businesses he'd acquired, and all the men were older than fifty. Most often, older men found it difficult to submit to Chandler's lead. I guessed it was their egos. Whatever the case, they could sometimes try and give him a hard time, but Chandler almost often shut them down respectfully and professionally. Only once had he taken it there with a man, and what surprised me most was his father coming to the next meeting to ensure none of the old bastards thought they would get away with disrespecting his son again.

I thought it was cute… the way his father showed up for him.

It made me wish I had that kind of bond with mine.

At least I had Papa, and for what it was worth, I had Chandler too.

"I don't think there's a simpler way for me to break this down," Chandler said. "How much more do you need me to dumb it down?" A hush fell over the room as the man he was speaking to, Harold, sat up in his seat. "I don't think the problem is that you don't understand my plan of action; you don't respect it. I can accept that. What I can't accept is you playing with my time. Now, if you have true ignorance on this subject, I'm more concerned about your place on this board than anything else. So I'll ask again… What about this plan and what I've said does not make sense to you?"

Harold chuckled but remained silent, and that was the kind of shit that pissed me off. With a roll of my eyes, I crossed my legs and scribbled onto my legal pad to do more research into him, in case he decided to be a problem. When Harold didn't respond, Chandler concluded the meeting.

I thought I'd done a good job hiding my frustration until we were alone and Chandler asked, "Are you okay?"

With a nod, I picked up the balled up paper and empty cups and plates on the conference table to throw away. "I'm fine," I muttered.

"You're lying." Chandler gripped my wrist and my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Talk to me."

I huffed and gritted my teeth. "I hate how these old bastards try and talk to you like you're a child. They act like you being younger than them means they don't have to respect you, trust your leadership, or accept the fact that you know what the hell you're doing. They should be thanking you for saving their jobs. Instead, they give you a hard time because they can't submit to the leadership of a man that's younger than them."

He released me and stood there with a goofy grin as he stared down at me. There was about four inches between us when I had on my four-inch heels, but I still loved how it felt to have to look up at him. Something about a tall, muscular, chocolate man—it always did something to me. And don't let that man be dressed in white or burgundy. Hell, don't let that man be Chandler.

"What?" I asked, getting flustered for a completely different reason the longer he stood so close to me.

"I just think it's cute that you care about me."

With a groan, I pushed him away gently by his stomach and continued to clean the table. "I'm really upset over how they treated you, and you're focused on that?"

"Of course I'm focused on that." The smoothness of his tone made my pussy pulse. It didn't help that he grabbed my hand again and used it to gently pull me back into his space. The hardness of his body made my heart race. I held my breath, wishing he'd wrap his arms around me, but he didn't. It was torturous being so close yet feeling so far away. "If they don't respect me, they probably never will. I have no desire to earn it. I'm here to do a job, and when I'm done, I'll be on to the next." His fingers were feather light as they pushed my hair off my shoulders and onto my back. I held my breath, hoping he'd allow his fingers to linger a little while longer. "What I do care about…" Chandler's weight shifted from one foot to the other. His voice lowered and head tilted slightly so that his mouth was right by my ear. "Is how much you care about me." When his soft, juicy lips kissed just under my ear, I went weak at the knees. Swallowing a moan, I closed my eyes tightly as he almost whispered, "Thank you for caring about me, Chy, and for always having my back."

I couldn't move or speak or even breathe until he put space between us. Running my hand down my throat, I tried to slow my palpitating heart.

"Of course I care about you. And as irritated as I was, you handled them very well. I admire the way you always remain cool and don't let them knock you off your square."

He chuckled as he began to clear the table off with me. "There are millions riding on this deal. They can say just about anything they want, and I won't give a damn. Now, if any of them lay a hand on me or disrespect you… that's a different story." Chandler made sure our eyes were locked as he added, "I'll knock a nigga's head off if they ever disrespected you."

He'd proven that once before, so I didn't have to question if that was the truth. After a meeting eight months ago, one man found it a bit difficult to take my no for an answer. Thankfully, Chandler had come looking for me because I rode with him to the meeting. When he found me pressed against the wall, bound by Tyler's strong grip on my neck and thigh, I saw a side of Chandler I didn't know existed.

He beat the man half to death, and it took several men to pull Chandler off Tyler. Because of the circumstances, Chandler wasn't arrested for assault. Tyler, however, was charged with attempted sexual assault. I think that was the day I realized how safe I was with Chandler, and he'd had a special place in my heart ever since.

"What're your plans for the evening?" I asked, needing to change the subject.

"I don't have any. You?"

"I have tickets for the baseball game."

Surprise covered his face as we headed out of the conference room. "I didn't know you were into baseball."

"Yeah, I used to love it. It was the only thing me and my dad used to have in common. When he left, I stopped watching. I think I'm finally ready to go to a game again, so Papa got me tickets."

"That's what's up, Chy. Proud of you for that. What other sports are you into?"

"Basketball and football. I know people might not consider it a sport but poker too."

"Are you trying to make me fall even more in love with you?"

His tone was playful, so I knew he wasn't serious, but it made me happy, nonetheless.

"You uh… if you feel up to it… I have an extra ticket."

He didn't respond right away, and the silence between us as we left the building shattered my heart. All this time, I thought he really liked me. Was he just flirting to pass the time? Did he not want to be seen with me after hours? Had I made a mistake by inviting him?

Chandler waited until we were at the town car to say, "I'd love to go to the game with you, Cheyanne."

"What took you so long?"

For the first time, I looked at him and noticed he was blushing. He hid it by sliding his hand down his mouth, dropping his smile in the process.

"Honestly, I was stunned that you invited me. I wanted to savor the moment."

Cackling, I scooted into the car. "What moment, Mr. Jones?"

"Nah, don't start that Mr. Jones shit. I'm wearing you down. Let me have this moment."

I didn't bother arguing with him. It wouldn't do me any good anyway. This was a moment, and I wouldn't deny that. I wasn't sure what made me ask him… what made me acknowledge the fact that I wanted to spend more time with him today after work. Regardless, I just hoped we had a good time tonight.