Just A Man (The Porter Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  Just a Man

  Shannon Youngblood

  ~~~

  Copyright © 2016 by Shannon Youngblood

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  First Chapter of Just a Woman

  Chapter 1

  “You’d better hurry up, baby girl, or you’re going to be late!” my super handsome, super gay roommate Daniel yelled to me. I couldn’t help but smile every time I heard his melodic tenor voice, even when he was yelling at me.

  We’ve been best friends for nearly 10 years. When I met him, he was a scrawny, puny guy with glasses and a stack of books no student should ever carry on their first day of school. The guys beating on him, though, were obviously scared of me, because one good throat scream and they took off. I helped dust him off and pick up his books and we walked onto our middle school campus. By junior year of high school, I had the biggest crush on him and thought I would spend the rest of my life loving him. He finally let me down, as easily as he could, and told me that he batted for the other team, the “pink team”. It was heartbreaking to realize the love of my life liked men, but, in the end, it only served to make our friendship stronger. Now we could pick up guys together!

  “Charlie! Seriously! I thought you wanted this job!”, he screeched, interrupting me from my daydreams. Danny was never one to live in the clouds, but, me, Charlotte Ann-Marie Hightower, I took up permanent residence there. I’d been known to daydream more than the average person. It got me into trouble sometimes, but, it also helped my mind relax after my terrible past.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming!” I yelled back. With a last flick of my mascara wand, a wink in the mirror, and an extra bobby pin in my bun, I grabbed my jacket and marched into the living room. Daniel stood against the couch with arms crossed over his chest, wearing only his superhero pajamas, and gave me a once over. Danny had grown into his body and, by sophomore year in college, he was one of the fittest men I had ever seen. He worked out almost every day and we ran together in the mornings. He looked good and I always appreciated taking an extra glance. I no longer was in love with Danny, but I loved him all the same. He was my rock in college, and now he was, more or less, my pseudo brother.

  “Damn girl, you clean up nice! Twirl for me, baby girl.” Grabbing my hand, he spun me around and I couldn’t help the little giggle that popped from my mouth when his dog whistle vibrated in my ears. Daniel always made me feel special. “Now come on, baby girl, let’s get you a job!” his said, his infectious grin making me smile along.

  I had been waiting for this interview for weeks. Porter Industries was the top phone tech firm in the country. They dealt mainly in phone apps; funding new apps with the most potential and weeding out the poor apps that couldn’t or wouldn’t make it in the market. Porter Industries helped regular people with dreams and aspirations see their well-thought-out apps come to fruition. My father, Dimitri Hightower, had pleaded with me not to interview for the job. He kept insisting that the owner, Alexander Porter, was, and I quote, “A sniveling chauvinistic prick who never kept an assistant for more than two months.” I didn’t care. This would boost up my career to unspeakable heights, and I needed it. Besides, how could a company that helped so many achieve their dreams have an owner that was anything but an angel in disguise?

  It wasn’t like my dad and I were close enough for me to really take his advice. Dimitri Hightower, four times married, twelve children with four different women, was my blood, but he wasn’t a dad to me. Sure, he sent me the birthday cards and the Christmas presents, but when I needed him the most, he wasn’t there. I was going to that interview with or without his blessing. He was in the same field and most people assumed I would go to work for him, but I didn’t want to rely on family connections. I wanted to do this myself.

  As I walked out of the door to my shared apartment, I took a split second to soak up the beautiful Southern California sun. It was expensive living here, we all knew it, but we couldn’t ever leave. It was as if as soon as you got here (or were born here) your brain was rewired and as much as you thought about leaving, you never could. I never wanted to. This was my home, and this is where I would stay.

  I lived in a booming town called Corona. I remember being a small child and thinking what a tiny little city this was, but now, at 24 years of age, I saw how well it blossomed and grew. I was an hour from the beach and the sun, and an hour from the mountains and the snow. More importantly, I was only four hours from Vegas. Danny and I loved taking a weekend and going out to gamble, drink, and be free.

  My interview was in Los Angeles. Quite a trek on the freeway, but I knew it was worth it. I also knew if I didn’t hightail my butt in gear I would, as Danny said, be late. I had about an hour and a half to get there and with LA city traffic I may not get there till next week. So, with my foot to the floor, I took off in pursuit of the job I had dreamed about my entire life.

  Exiting the 405 freeway with twenty minutes to spare, I thanked my lucky stars for light traffic. Most regions in the world would not consider six lane highways packed to the brim going 45 miles an hour light, but that’s what it was. Checking my GPS to make sure I was still on course, I made a left and was greeted with the most beautiful modern building I had ever seen. White pillars framed the outside doors giving it the look of a modern plantation home, like I had seen in Gone with the Wind. The windows were a dark tinted glass with white stone separating each floor. In the front, several yards from the door, there was a water fountain shooting water almost six feet high. With my current view, the sun hit it at just the right angle to give it a shimmer of opulence. I watched as the many people walking by stopped to take in its beauty with sincere appreciation before heading on their way.

  I decided since I was running a tad bit later than I would like, I would go ahead and pay the $18 to have my car valeted. If I got this job, it would be worth the loss, and if I didn’t, well, at least I didn’t have to walk from the parking structure to the office in my five inch heels while trying not to sweat off my makeup. The valet gave me a funny look when I handed him the keys. I’m guessing he wasn’t used to valeting a car that didn’t cost six figures. I’ve been driving my 2007 Dodge Nitro for nearly eight years, but it still ran like a charm and I loved the comfort of being high off the ground.

  As I entered the building, I couldn’t help but stop and admire the raw beauty that was Porter Industries. As light and airy as it was outside with the white pillars and stones, the inside was a complete contrast. Everything I could see was either a charcoal gray or black. The flooring was black slate marble that shined brightly with the early afternoon sun. The desks were made of some sort of metal that reminded me of pewter, and the chandeliers hanging above me were silver with diamond crystal drops. It was a lot to take in, and looking down at my outfit
of black slacks and a white chiffon sleeveless blouse, I almost felt embarrassingly underdressed. Moving out of the entrance, I slipped on my black suit jacket and headed towards what I assumed was the receptionist. My heels clanked across the floor, the sound ricocheting around me. It felt like all eyes were staring at me, although I knew that wasn’t the case.

  “Welcome to Porter Industries. How can I assist you today?”, the statuesque blonde said to me. She looked absolutely radiant, but highly bored. The security guard next to her gave me a slight look but returned to stare at the blond woman he was responsible for guarding. I bet he and his security buddies fought over who got to guard her for the day. I instantly felt self conscious. I wasn’t ugly, but sometimes my crimson red hair took people off guard.

  “Ahem”, the blond asked with some annoyance, clearly waiting for an answer I had yet to give.

  Snapping my brain back into the here and now, I looked up to see blondie giving me an inquisitive stare. I quickly stammered out, “Hello, my name is Charlotte Hightower. I’m here to see Alexander Porter. I have an interview.”

  As if some switch had been flipped, the blonde’s attitude changed in an instant. She looked slightly flustered as she blurt out, “Yes, Ms. Hightower, right away.” She picked up the long sleek black phone and, within seconds, placed it back down without saying one word to the person on the other end. “Mr. Porter will see you now. Please head up to floor 48”. The security guard handed me a visitor badge, which I snapped onto the pocket of my jacket, and motioned for me to follow him to the elevators. I could tell he wasn’t pleased with having to leave the receptionist, but I didn’t care. I wondered how a wordless conversation with the blonde receptionist let Mr. Porter know I had arrived. How did he know I was here?

  As I stepped into the shiny gold elevator, I took a moment to calm my breathing and straighten out my slacks. I punched the 48 button on the elevator and watched the doors close, producing my image in the mirror-like double doors. I took a good look at my appearance in the reflection. Here I was, 24 years old, interviewing for the most prestigious firm in the country. Could I be any luckier? I placed my hands on the railing behind me and let me mind wander during my ascent.

  The elevator whizzed up with such grace I didn’t even realize when we hit floor 48. I wasn’t a huge fan of enclosed spaces, but this wouldn’t be too bad. I took two large breaths, put on my best smile, and marched out of the opening doors. I was immediately greeted with what I could only assume was the current temp assistant for Mr. Porter. He looked well put together in his three piece navy suit and tie, but his eyes told another story. He looked absolutely frazzled.

  “Hello Ms. Hightower. My name is Jerry. Can I please get you a water or coffee? Mr. Porter will be another moment.” The words came out of his mouth in such a haste it took me a moment to absorb the meaning. If this was how a temp was feeling, I wasn’t sure I was going to like this, but, for better or for worse, I was here, and I was going to rock this interview. I wanted to prove to my father that I could do this without his help.

  “No, thank you, Jerry. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please, call me Charlie.”, I said, sticking my hand out for a shake. I didn’t know if he had any kind of influence over my interview or the hopeful hiring process, but I was going to be on my best behavior with everyone I encountered.

  Jerry seemed to relax slightly as he gave me a beautiful mega-watt smile. He was actually quite attractive, but a little lanky for my taste, with blonde slicked back hair, and a tiny ring in his right ear. My gaydar buzzed excitedly in my ear and I decided immediately that I liked him and, if I got the job, I would certainly seek him out for friendship. Also, as much as Danny hated blind dates, I think the two of them would be adorable together. I shook my head when I saw Jerry looking at me with a perplexed look, “I’m sorry Jerry, did you ask me something? I have a bad habit of daydreaming.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t let Mr. Porter hear you say that. He deplores daydreaming. I was asking if you would like me to take your jacket?” he said, extending his hand in offer.

  Debating whether or not I was dressed enough without it, I opted to hang on to it for now and took a seat against the wall with the elevator. Trying not to lose myself in another daydream, I focused on Jerry. He seemed so tightly wound I was having a hard time focusing on anything but him. Moving around from one part of the lobby to another and back again, I couldn’t help but feel like something was really off about this situation. That was until the door to the office pushed open to reveal Alexander Porter, in all of his glory.

  Jerry froze for a split second before introducing me to his boss. “Mr. Porter, this is Charlotte Hightower, she’s here—”

  “I KNOW why she’s here Jerry,” Mr. Porter spat out, cutting him off, and with a dismissive wave, Jerry disappeared down a hallway to my left. I stared after him for just a moment absorbing the two second scene in my head. Alex Porter was incredibly rude, or just in a terrible mood. I hadn’t really noticed yet, but I wondered if his outside appearance matched the seemingly ugly interior of this man.

  When I looked up at Alex Porter, I felt my breathing become slightly ragged. This man had to be, without a doubt, the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Standing at least ten inches taller than my 5’5, he was muscular, but not oppressively so, and boy-oh-boy was he tanned. You expected residents of Southern California to be tanned, but he put them all to shame. He sported longer than normal brown hair with hints of gold, but it had been pulled back into a low ponytail at the base of his neck. What did me in though, were his eyes. They were the color of liquid amber, and just about had me in a puddle on the floor. This man was handsome, powerful, and sexy, and I knew, in that instant, I didn’t stand a chance.

  When my eyes reached his, I was momentarily taken aback. His eyes were currently boring a hole into me, filled with such anger I had to take a step backwards and grip the nearby desk for stability. I could feel the ire bubbling off of him in great waves, like a witch’s cauldron brew.

  Regaining my balance and composure I stuck out my hand, “Mr. Porter, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Charlotte Hightower, although everyone calls me Charlie.” The words stumbled out of my mouth so fast I would be surprised if he understood any of it. He looked so angry I couldn’t figure it out, but suddenly I saw an invisible impassive mask pull up over his face. It was so fast I almost failed to recognize the change. Mr. Porter went from sizzling mad, to cool and collected in a matter of milliseconds. It made my head spin. What had I done to deserve his anger, and what made it disappear? I knew immediately that, if I did receive this job, I would forever be on my toes with him. The thought made me dizzy.

  “Miss Hightower, the pleasure is mine. Please follow me into my office.” he said, beckoning me through the glass doors in front of him. I felt his hand at the small of my back and, with just that little touch, a spark shot up through my spine into the rest of my body. I shivered slightly and hoped he hadn’t noticed. The electric current seeping into my bones was enough to make my knees wobble.

  His office was nothing like I expected. Where the outside was clean and pristine, and the lobby was a little cold, Porter’s office was warm, almost inviting. I took a moment to glance around and admire. There were paintings on the wall of all sorts; landscapes, skyscrapers, and even a cliche bowl of fruit, and even though none of them matched, they seemed to give the room exactly what it needed. To my left was a small bar made of some sort of wood; mahogany maybe, stacked with wine, whiskey, and some other assorted liquors. Next to that was a large leather sofa that 6 grown men could sit in comfortably. Scanning forward, I saw large windows from floor to ceiling encompassing the whole back wall. The view was stunning and I’d bet, if I looked close enough, I would be able to see my home town. To the right of the windows appeared a small corridor. I wasn’t sure where it lead, but hopefully, if I got the job, I’d soon find out. To my right was Mr. Porter’s desk. The large “L” shape, in the same type of wood as the bar, was impressive and fi
t what I knew of the intimidating man at my back. The first thing I noticed was how immaculate the desk was. There was a computer, a calendar book,a clock and not much else. Overall the office seemed to be serene, and it smelt of some sort of aftershave, giving me a false sense of relief.

  Motioning for me to sit opposite his desk, Mr. Porter un-did his suit button and gracefully sat in his chair. I watched as his fingers crossed in front of him, elbows up on the desk, tapping his chin with his index finger. He gave me a strange glance, and, for a moment, I wasn’t sure where this interview was going. Should I say something? I decided I would wait until he made the first move. I wasn’t about to step on his toes.

  “Ms. Hightower,” he said, interrupting me from my thoughts, “How was your drive here?”

  His question threw me for a loop. I didn’t anticipate a question about the traffic. Clearing my throat and counting to three, I answered.. “It was surprisingly light, I made it here in just over an hour.” He continued to glare at me, but, this time, I noticed him running his thumb from one corner of his mouth to another. It was quite distracting watching his thumb move. What I wouldn’t give to bite that lip.

  Where in the hell did that errant thought come from? I felt my cheeks blush slightly. I don’t even know this man! Sitting up a little straighter, I mentally shook the thought from my head. I glared back at him waiting for his next question and noticing the slight smirk form on his face. There’s no way he could have known what I was thinking, although, his facial expression told me he did know. I guessed he was used to having women fall at his feet.

  I watched as he leaned back in his chair, never taking his eyes off me, and grabbed a piece of paper from under his calendar book. Finally peeling his eyes from mine he looked down at the paper; my resume.

  “UCLA.” It wasn’t a question but I felt compelled to say something.

  “Yes, sir, I studied Business Management. Graduated with honors and a perfect GPA.” I smiled at him. I was proud of my academic accomplishments.