Breathe for Me(7)

“Black coffee, right?” The girl smiled.

“You remember everyone’s orders?” Chelsea was impressed, she’d only been coming to the cart this week.

“Well some are easier than others.” The woman shot her a dry look. “Especially one that simple.”

“Oh, right.” Chelsea palmed her forehead. Dunce.

Coffee queen skated up to her and offered her a marshmallow with a wink. “I’m Luisa.”

“Thanks Luisa,” Chelsea took the candy with a grin. “I’m Chelsea.”

“You work in this weird building?” Luisa jerked her chin towards the brightly colored building behind them as she banged the coffee machine.

“Only as an intern. Only a couple of months.”

“Cool though?”

“Yeah.” She’d only been there the week and she was trying not to panic already. “It’s a challenge.”

“Even better. Can do, will do, right?”

“I hope so.” Chelsea grinned at her attitude. “You like the coffee scene?”

Luisa shrugged. “It’s a means to movement. Far and fast.”

Yeah, it was clear she was a traveller, her accent certainly wasn’t from these parts. Chelsea couldn’t pick it—Australian maybe? “Hence the wheels?”

“You got it.” Luisa winked as she handed her a steaming cup. “Who do you intern for?”

“It’s an art and design institute, in a tiny office suite on the fourth floor.” Chelsea cautiously sipped the scalding liquid and felt the kick.

“So you’re an artist?”

“Kind of. I’m still studying.” She’d finished an undergrad in Fine Art and was now working on a post-grad Urban Planning and Design qualification—because artists like her needed a day job. She was a couple of years behind but at least now she was progressing again. She loved research. Wanted to do a bigger post-grad project if she could—and travel more with it. “What about you, where are you from?”

Before the girl could answer Chelsea’s phone chimed. She didn’t need to glance at the screen to know who it was, only one person called this early. Every day.

“Sorry.” She stepped away from Luisa’s stand with an apologetic grin. “I have to get this or there’ll be trouble.”

“No worries.” Luisa waved her away.

“Hey Mom.” Chelsea walked towards her building.

“How are you, honey?”

Her mother’s warm tones softened Chelsea’s frustration. The calls were born from love, she had no right to resent them.

“Good. Really good,” she answered. The project is going well.” Chelsea grinned at the security guy who was just unlocking the doors.

“You’re at work already?” Her mother asked.

“Uh huh.” Chelsea ruefully muttered, knowing what was coming.

“But it’s so early. Are you sure you’re getting enough rest?”

Chelsea inwardly sighed. “Mom I’m fine. Truly.” No way was she going to mention last night’s false fire alarm. Her mother would have a fit.

She loved her parents but right now she was glad they were miles away. She needed them to be for a while. After two years of close concern and being wrapped in cotton wool, she needed the space to take things on in her own time and way. “I’m fine Mom. Honestly I am. Trust me.”

“I do. I just—”

“I know.” Of course she understood her mother’s concern—her daughter had nearly died. Her daughter’s life had changed irrevocably. But her daughter, Chelsea, now needed to get on with it. “I’m okay. I’m really okay.”

“Alright.” Her mother’s sigh echoed her own. “You have a good day.”

“I will. You too.”

She would have a good day. She’d focus on her work. She was going to have to work all hours to get it all done. Not that she’d tell her mom that either.

A new city, new job, new apartment. Alone. All challenge. And perfect.

But she wasn’t adding a new man to that list. Definitely not some over-sized, over-confident, doctor with a Superman syndrome. No matter how magnetic he was. She wasn’t even going to think about him again. Not even a little.

She went up to her desk and got planning. An hour later she pinned up the new sketch for her pop-up ‘art’n’eaterie’.

“You really think you can pull it off?” Steve, the other intern, asked as he passed her desk on his way in, one of Luisa’s coffees in his hand.

“Absolutely.” At least, she thought so. Her pop-up pizza project was ‘out there’ and she had to fit it around all her other duties, some of which were definitely of the more menial variety. But as an intern she couldn’t expect to be working on the fun stuff all the time. She had to pull her weight. That was part of the attraction.

“Be awesome if you do,” Steve said.

She nodded. She really wanted to use it as an example for her post-grad research paper. “How’s your project going?” she asked.

“Not as well as I’d like.” Steve parked on the edge of her desk and started talking through his issues.

Chelsea leaned back in her seat and listened, enjoying that he was asking her advice—that he seemed to value her input.

No one here knew the full story of the last two years. She’d briefly mentioned that her limp was the result of an old accident and hid the scarring under long skirts. She’d explained the gap in her studies as time away travelling. That was a small lie, but it meant no one looked at her with wariness or pity in their eyes.

Admittedly she wasn’t exactly wholly independent. She had scholarship funding to help see her through the summer internship, but there was no real ‘special treatment’ in that, it was normal. And she had backing from her family—her father’s friend had secured her the short-term loan of the apartment. But now here, she was alone and on her way. What success she made of this time was up to her.

There was just that one last hurdle to overcome.

She worked late and picked up a carry-out on the way home. She walked quick as she could into the apartment building. There were no ridiculously handsome men out running—to her relief, right?

She flashed the night manager a tight smile and took the elevator to her floor. She ate a little, then got changed and waited until it was after hours and the pool would be empty. Then she tried once more.

Though the water looked warm, Chelsea shivered. The last time she’d dived under it had been late at night. The last time she’d gone in water she’d nearly drowned.





Chapter Four



Xander didn’t get home ’til midnight. He refused to give into temptation and go knock on her door, so he made sure it was too late to be able to. She’d be tucked up in bed now—most likely with her fiancé.

He felt like punching something.

He tensed as his anger doubled. Violence wasn’t his thing—he’d seen enough of it when he was a kid. That he could be feeling violent because of a woman? That really wasn’t right. Why the hell this one woman bugged him so much he didn’t know—but with one look she’d gotten under his skin. Maybe Logan had been right. Maybe he needed a holiday.

This morning she’d run away from him before he’d gotten the answers he wanted. But her eyes had gotten bigger with every second she’d gazed at him. Hell, she’d been drinking him in. Yeah, it was a shot to the ego to have a woman with lips as luscious as hers looking like she wanted to suck up everything he had to give her.

His body had a hell of a lot it wanted to give her.

So where was the fiancé if she was that frustrated? He knew need when he saw it, and she was all but crippled with need. And part of Xander liked to offer help when and where it was needed. He smirked bitterly. Oh he was such the lifesaver? Rescue guy. Physical rescue only. She needed physical.

He stalked into the building. Stay away Xander, stay far, far away.

He glanced at the desk. Terry sat staring at his monitor. The guy didn’t even look up as Xander strode by. So Xander stopped, pivoted and strode back.

“What’s keeping you so glued you don’t even notice when someone walks past your nose?” He walked around the desk so he could see the screen the jerk was fixated on. “Something going on?”

In one black and white square, a lone figure stood by the inky part that was the pool. He tensed. She was there again? In her swimsuit, her pearly legs looking long and too slender. Her fingers tapped some rhythm on the outside of her thigh. He could almost see her talking to herself. Talking herself into it?

She was concentrating hard on the water. He frowned as he watched her take a small step closer to the edge. But she was in no hurry. In fact, he’d say she was reluctant. Terrified?