Just One Destiny Read online

  Just One Destiny

  by

  Jade Winters

  Just One Destiny

  by Jade Winters

  Published by Wicked Winters Books

  Copyright © 2017 Jade Winters

  www.jade-winters.com

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  BOOK LIST

  About The Author

  For Ali … my happy ending

  .

  Chapter One

  Carissa’s eyes widened. ‘Uh-oh. I know that look. What’s on your mind?’

  ‘You’ll know soon enough.’ The smile on Lara’s face broadened as she put a glass to her lips, tilted her head back, and jiggled the ice cubes until one slid effortlessly into her mouth.

  Carissa was mystified. Ice was a new one. Even for them. She couldn’t help but wonder if Lara had been reading the latest edition of Les Pleasure. It wouldn’t have surprised her. Lara was the type of woman who liked, no, loved to experiment—whether it be with props from Ann Summers or her many different lifestyle choices. Which was one of the countless reasons Carissa had fallen for her. Being with Lara meant not knowing what was going to happen from one day to the next. And unlike her best friend Trudi, who found the idea of living on such a roller coaster abhorrent, Carissa was all for it. To her it was the ‘not knowing’ that made life just that little bit more interesting.

  White heat rippled through her body when Lara slipped off her nightshirt. Carissa’s gaze followed its descent as it made its way down Lara’s naked body and crumpled at her feet. In one deft manoeuvre, Lara climbed onto the bed and crawled towards Carissa, her supple movements as graceful as a cat.

  Carissa pulled back the cover. Rays of sunlight flickered through the idly shifting curtains and the cool gentle breeze caressed her breasts causing her nipples to harden. In that instant, she eagerly anticipated the moment Lara’s body would fit perfectly together with her own, like interlocking pieces of a puzzle.

  Carissa stared at Lara. Dark haired and olive skinned. Arctic blue eyes, set beneath long thick lashes. Eyes that were clouded with unconcealed desire. Her tousled hair only served to remind Carissa of what had taken place between the sheets barely an hour ago.

  Lara’s hand reached out and caught Carissa’s small, taut bud between her index finger and thumb. She eyed Carissa like a cobra mesmerising its prey. Her voice low and husky—a testament to her intentions. ‘I see you’re ready ….’

  Carissa made a small sigh of surrender and let her head sink back onto the pillow. She didn’t think she had the energy for another workout that involved multiple orgasms, but how could she turn down hot, sweaty sex with the woman who made each and every one of her senses spin?

  Carissa’s fingernails raked Lara’s back when she positioned herself between Carissa’s legs and delicately bit her earlobe. Her breath was cool against Carissa’s warm face, her lips wet and cold. With an exaggerated slowness, Lara’s head dipped and she trailed a blaze along the nape of Carissa’s neck … along her collarbone … down her chest, until she reached her right breast.

  Carissa squealed and squirmed, drawing in a sharp intake of breath when the ice cube made contact with her nipple. Lara’s response was to eye her with amusement and mumble something inaudible.

  Carissa cocked her head slightly. ‘Say that again.’

  The ice cube disappeared to the inside of Lara’s cheek, causing it to bulge. ‘I said I want to do something memorable to you.’

  ‘With an ice cube?’ A hot flush crawled up Carissa’s neck, all the way to her cheeks.

  ‘Yes, with an ice cube. Now can you be quiet before it melts.’

  Carissa lifted her head an inch from the pillow and stole a glance over the top of Lara’s head to catch sight of the clock on the wall. Tick. Tock. Tick. It was getting on for nine o’clock. She cursed inwardly, annoyed by the need to be elsewhere when she would rather be here, entwined with Lara. She hesitated before giving Lara the bad news. ‘This is going to have to wait a couple of hours.’

  ‘A couple of … No, it can’t.’

  Carissa wriggled beneath Lara’s weight. ‘It has to. I’ve got a job interview at ten, remember?’

  Lara’s face registered confusion, then annoyance. ‘For God’s sake.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll be longer than an hour and a half, two at the most.’ Carissa wiggled her eyebrows. ‘I’ll even bring back a bag of ice cubes if you’re lucky.’

  Lara ignored the bait and pushed herself onto her back. Letting out a sigh, her gaze drifted up towards the ceiling. ‘Don’t bother.’

  ‘Eh? Come on, Lara, you know I need this job. We’ve got plenty of time …’ Carissa reached across Lara, took an ice cube from the glass on the bedside table and popped it in her mouth, ‘… to do what you want later.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Lara mumbled.

  ‘Are you in a mood with me now?’

  The question hung in the air, leaving an uneasy silence for a few seconds.

  ‘No,’ Lara finally said.

  Carissa let the tips of her fingers trail along the sexy black tribal tattoo imprinted on the full length of Lara’s side. Her fingers dancing as if she was playing the piano. Under normal circumstances, Lara’s response would be to murmur in delight, but not this time. Her face remained sullen, which told Carissa all she needed to know.

  Yep, she’s in a mood. ‘You are, aren’t you?’

  Lara rolled abruptly to her side and drew the quilt over her body. ‘I said no. Now can you drop it?’

  Carissa studied Lara, trying to work out what was on her mind. When she spoke, her voice was tentative. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘Wrong? Why has there got to be something wrong?’

  Carissa averted her gaze in response to Lara’s sharp tone. Discussing an emotive subject right before something as important as a job interview wasn’t ideal, but the air needed to be cleared. The problem, whatever it was, was something that neither of them had cared to address lately, but it was obvious that tension was simmering beneath the surface. They’d been walking on egg shells around each other for quite some time.

  ‘If there isn’t, how else can you explain the last few weeks?’ Carissa said. ‘You’ve been a bit—’

  ‘I’ve been what?’ Lara’s intonation rose at the end and formed a question mark.

  The muscles in Carissa’s face twitched. The way they always did when she was nervous about something. Like now, when she was afraid that her in
stincts were right. ‘I dunno. Detached. Like you’re here, but you’re not. If you see what I mean.’

  ‘No, I don’t. I think you’re imagining things.’

  ‘If you say so. No doubt you’ll tell me when you’re ready.’

  Lara’s voice was weary, full of resignation. ‘Hadn’t you better go?’

  ‘If you want to play it like that.’ Carissa dragged herself off the bed and grabbed her suit from the wardrobe. ‘Let’s hope you’re in a better mood by the time I get back,’ she said over her shoulder as she left the room.

  ***

  Now in a reflective mood, guilt crept into Carissa’s mind as remnants of her tiff with Lara trickled into her thoughts. It made sense why Lara would be upset with her. It was Lara’s day off after all and here Carissa was on yet another job interview. The last week had been a roller coaster of them, but it was a necessary evil that Carissa was more than familiar with. She’d had six in as many weeks and it wasn’t getting any easier. Facing rejection after rejection wasn’t exactly an ego boost.

  Eyes unblinking, she looked at a framed reproduction of Monet’s water lilies that hung on the wall opposite. In her mind, she repeated her interview to-do list. Smile. Don’t talk too fast. Keep your head held high. Ask a few questions, but not too many. I don’t want to come across as a chatterbox. And whatever I do, I mustn’t look too eager.

  Nothing turned potential employers off faster than a desperado. Carissa knew this to be true from one of her most recent experiences when she had practically begged for a job as an apprentice, only to receive a humiliating rejection via email the next day.

  And I mustn’t say I can start work straight away. Maybe in a couple of weeks? No, that’s too long. A week will do.

  As she sat mulling over the dos and don’ts of interview techniques, she tried not to stare at the perfectly groomed receptionist who looked like she belonged on the cover of Vogue, not working the front desk in an office.

  It was half past ten, which meant it had been thirty minutes since Carissa had walked into LJ Interior Designers. Half an hour past her interview time.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Putting some warmth into her smile, Carissa pushed herself to her feet and tentatively approached the receptionist. ‘Do you know how much longer I’m going to have to wait before I see Mr Mitchell?’

  The receptionist looked up at Carissa through round glasses that emphasised her blue eyes. ‘Mr Mitchell?’ she repeated.

  Carissa raised her eyebrows. ‘Umm … yes.’ She nodded. ‘I’ve got an interview. Remember?’

  ‘An interview?’

  Jesus Christ! She can’t have forgotten me already.

  ‘Umm … Yeah, a job interview. You asked me to take a seat around half an hour ago,’ Carissa answered, wondering why she was saying ‘umm’ so much. It made her sound inept and unqualified.

  ‘Why did you wait so long to remind me?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Carissa averted her gaze, mainly because she was embarrassed for looking like an indecisive idiot. Why didn’t I ask sooner? ‘I just assumed Mr Mitchell was running late.’

  ‘Well, he hasn’t called to see you. I’ll see what’s happening. What’s your name again?’

  ‘Carissa Dunne.’

  The receptionist nodded curtly and picked up the phone sitting to her right. She dialled and gave Carissa an appraising glance.

  ‘Mr Mitchell, it’s Abby. Sorry to disturb you, but I have a Carissa Dunne out here. She’s been waiting in reception for half an hour. She says she has an interview.’

  Carissa heard a deep voice on the other line.

  ‘Yes,’ Abby said. ‘For the job … yes … all right … I’ll let her know, thank you.’

  She set the phone down and turned to Carissa with a blank expression on her face. ‘I’m sorry, but the post has already been filled.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  Abby raised her eyebrows as though she was annoyed at having to repeat herself. ‘The post has already been filled,’ she said with an excessive slowness that Carissa thought was completely unnecessary. ‘An email was sent out last night cancelling all remaining interviews.’

  ‘I didn’t receive an email,’ Carissa said, trying to keep the frustration from her tone.

  ‘You should check your inbox.’

  ‘I did,’ Carissa insisted. ‘Right before I got here.’

  ‘Then I don’t know what else to tell you.’

  Carissa looked down at Abby with her perfect sleek hair, retro chic glasses, and her black pinstriped suit, and wanted to cry out in frustration. Instead, she fought the urge and forced a smile on to her face.

  ‘Thanks for your time,’ Carissa said, before walking out with her head held high.

  Outside, Carissa stood on the pavement for a good five minutes, trying to digest this latest disappointment. With one last glance at the pyramid glass building she had hoped would be her new place of work, Carissa made her way to the bus stop, shoulders slumped and her gaze on the ground. Leaving Lara had all been for nothing.

  With a twenty-minute journey ahead of her, Carissa boarded the nearly full bus and managed to grab the last seat. Odours of stale perfume, BO, and coffee assaulted her nostrils as she sat down and, as discreetly as she could, pulled the lapel of her jacket over her nose. Taking out her mobile phone as the bus manoeuvred its way into the traffic, she brought up her email and checked her inbox. There was an email from Pippa, a secondary school friend that Carissa occasionally kept in touch with, a few voucher coupons, and a bunch of spam. She checked and doubled checked but there still wasn’t an email from LJ Interior Designs cancelling her job interview. Renewed annoyance jabbed her as she closed her email.

  A few seconds later, her phone buzzed. ‘Hello,’ Carissa spoke in a low voice, as she placed her phone against her ear.

  ‘Hiya.’ Trudi was loud and shrill as always. ‘I’ve got a few minutes to spare before yoga, so I thought I’d check in with you. Where are you?’

  ‘On a bus,’ Carissa said. ‘I’m heading home.’

  ‘From where?’

  ‘A job interview.’

  ‘Oh, was that today?’ Trudi asked. ‘I’d completely forgotten. How did it go?’

  ‘It didn’t.’ Carissa glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. She didn’t want everyone to know that she was unemployable. Satisfied the passengers had better things to do with their time, she continued, ‘They cancelled on me and didn’t even have the decency to tell me.’

  ‘Bastards. What was the firm?’

  ‘LJ Interior Designs.’

  ‘LJ ….’ Trudi said slowly. ‘Never heard of them. If you want, I can pull some strings and get you an interview with Gibson’s. They’re a really hip and forward thinking company. I think you’d be a good match.’

  ‘I appreciate the offer, but no,’ Carissa said quickly. ‘I don’t want you to pull any strings for me. I want to get a job on my own merits.’

  Trudi seemed to know everyone in London, regardless of the sector they worked in. That’s what happened when you were the editor of an insanely successful gossip magazine. Z-list celebrities, who thought they could be on the next hit reality TV show, hoped by being mentioned in Trudi’s magazine, they would be one step up from obscurity.

  ‘That’s very admirable, Carissa, but it’s also misguided. What’s the harm in having a little help in life?’

  ‘Nothing at all,’ Carissa replied. ‘It’s just not how I want to start out. I have an undergraduate degree—’

  ‘Who the hell doesn’t these days?’ Trudi interrupted.

  ‘And I have some decent internships listed on my CV,’ Carissa continued, ignoring Trudi.

  ‘Internships are not the same as a job,’ Trudi said. ‘It’s about who you know these days.’

  ‘You know I don’t believe in that kind of thing,’ Carissa said. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘No need to apologise to me. I’m not the one who’s unemployed.’

  Carissa suppressed a sigh and tried to thin
k of a seamless way to change the subject. ‘So, your birthday’s coming up soon. I was thinking of arranging a night out with the girls. We could go to the Shard for drinks. If we’re not too pissed, we could go clubbing afterwards—’

  ‘That sounds great and everything—’

  ‘But?’ Carissa asked, hearing the hesitation in her voice.

  ‘I’m going to Paris that weekend,’ Trudi said with an excited little lift in her tone.

  ‘With who?’

  ‘That would be telling. Let’s just say she’s sizzling hot.’

  ‘Am I going to meet her?’

  ‘Doubt it. You know what these “In the closet” celebs are like.’

  ‘Oh … right … okay then.’

  ‘We can always catch up the following week.’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose,’ Carissa said wistfully. ‘The Shard has nothing on Paris with a hot celebrity.’

  ‘Precisely!’ Trudi agreed readily. ‘Besides, I haven’t been to Paris since I was a kid.’

  ‘You went five years ago,’ Carissa reminded her. ‘As I recall, you missed my eighteenth birthday because of it.’

  ‘Eh … did I?’

  ‘You did.’

  ‘Of course I did, but it’s not exactly a romantic getaway when you go with your parents, is it?’

  ‘Suppose not.’

  ‘Believe me, it isn’t,’ Trudi said.

  The bus stopped at Kings Cross and most of the passengers disembarked. Carissa was relieved to have a little more privacy.

  ‘Anyway, how’s Lara?’ Trudi said after a moment’s silence.

  ‘Lara, yeah she’s good.’

  ‘You don’t sound too sure,’ Trudi pointed out. ‘Things not going well on the home front?’

  ‘It’s probably nothing,’ Carissa said glancing out of the window at the street crawling with shoppers. ‘She’s been stressing out about her job.’

  ‘Are you sure that’s all it is?

  ‘Yes, Trudi,’ she said with a sharp edge to her voice. ‘What else could it be?’