Holt's Holding Read online

  Holt’s Holdings

  Part One

  a.dagmara

  Holt’s Holdings

  Author: a.dagmara

  Cover Illustration by © Fotosearch.com

  ISBN 978-0-9857841-4-0

  Copyright© 2013 Anna D Cameron

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction, names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  For information on other titles by a.dagmara, please see us on the website below or follow us on Facebook.com www.adagmara.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Dedication

  I owe an amorous debt of gratitude to those in my life, whom inspired many of the scenes within this book. Friendships are familial bonds we cultivate in our lives, each different, unique, facilitating experience, and memories that teach us our strengths and weaknesses.

  Though, this book is a work of fiction, its inspiration is the basis of many conversations and “happy hours” with my best friend.

  Thank you for giving me the memories to pull from!

  Acknowledgements

  To my ever, patient husband, being married to an author is a true test of patients. Enduring weeks of my constant need to write; neglecting everyday chores. Not once complaining, offering your constant support and encouragement. There are no words, to match or begin to express, my appreciation.

  To my Mother, thank you for being my fan! Your love of books and enthusiasm inspires me to push on when I want to all but give up. I love you.

  Chapter 1

  The alarm clock, now screaming at me. Opening my eyes and staring up at the white ceiling, I couldn’t for the life of me understand, the who, and why, someone would invent such an obnoxious sound.

  Throwing my hand over to the nightstand, I think I had just about hit everything, but the alarm clock.

  Where in the hell is the damn snooze button?

  I turned looking at the clock as it flashed 5:30 am. Thanks to the beltway traffic, getting up this early is mandatory. I needed another five minutes in bed; that I can’t afford.

  Damn! My head is throbbing. What was I thinking? Taking that many shots in one night, I was asking for punishment.

  Going out in the middle of the week is insane. I have a job to get to, and this morning of all mornings, I’ll be sitting thru meetings most of the day.

  I was in hell.

  There was no doubt I had only myself to blame.

  Overindulging in happy hour, which typically turned into a late night, was normal, but not a midweek occurrence. Now, I would pay for it at work. Where in the hell was all my perfectly honed discipline? That’s right I abandoned it with wild anticipation, taking three too many shots of patron, and knowingly drunk, when I had done so.

  This was clearly restless nerves of my past surfacing and now today of all days!

  Work what a joke. I hated my job, but it was one, that would lead me precisely where I had always planned. Or in my mind fantasized.

  I honestly thought I would like being a junior editor for an advertising agency. Well, it’s more like a “be my personal bitch” oh get my “coffee” type of job.

  I didn’t spend 4years in undergrad, and another three in graduate school, to learn how to make coffee and fetch dry cleaning. I was a glorified assistant if anyone actually wanted to know what I did. Fuck, I was probably smarter than the entire staff put together. Nevertheless, I needed this facade to facilitate my end goals.

  Shaking my head, “I can’t afford to be late”.

  Pulling me out of bed was painful. I stood to my feet and circled around my bed to the bathroom.

  Reaching in to the shower, turning it on, I went to the vanity grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste.

  Living in this building had some advantages, but getting hot water, was not one of them. I had to wait for the cold water to run thru for at least a couple of minutes.

  Therefore, this was always the routine. Turn the water on, brush teeth, and then shower.

  Stepping into the shower was what I needed to wake myself. Washing quickly was necessary, as I didn’t allow for much time to putts around. I strived and lived for the routines I created. They held, what little, sanity and control, I had in my life.

  Hurrying myself out of the bathroom, and rushing into the kitchen, I was still dripping from the shower.

  Dressed in nothing but my towel that was better suited to dry my hair in; I needed to get the coffee started. This was undoubtedly me multi-tasking. Turning on lights as the sun has yet to lite the apartment. I noticed the coffee pot, as well smelled fresh coffee brewed.

  Hmm, the coffee already made. I stood there a bit confused, staring at the coffee maker.

  I was sure my roommate Julie wouldn’t have been up this early. She liked to sleep in, and early in her world was nine am.

  However, there was no need to question, as its one less thing for me to do.

  “Little miracles.” I whispered

  I opened the cabinet and reached for a “to go” coffee cup, and poured it full. Placing it on the counter, opening the fridge, my eyes landed at the door for the creamer. Black coffee just would not do. I love -me –some- creamer!

  Pulling it free from the door, I slammed it shut turning to the island where my cup stood.

  Damn, my head hurt. I reached over for the Advil popping out four pills into my palm.

  “Ugh, I’m in hell!” I spoke aloud.

  Taking the pills urgently, I finished pouring the creamer. Pulling the mug to my lips, I took a sip to help the pills down.

  Wow, this coffee was exceptionally yummy. Not that, it normal was bad; this pot was not my regular coffee.

  A strong scent of men’s cologne invaded my nose. Within a moment of physical recognition, all the hairs on my neck stood to the shock. Fuck me. The first and only time my body reacted with such yearning. The heated pooling raced directly between my legs had me almost shivering. Lowering my eyes down and closing them to take a calming breath. Pausing with the door still open, I could only guess that this mystery man was the one whom made the coffee, logic hit. I was no longer alone in the kitchen.

  Whispering in my head, It’s just fucking cologne. Funny how the mind holds to certain senses; touch, feel, taste and of course smell. His cologne took me back to a young girl’s naïve, and very lusting emotions. Shit! Get a grip.

  He must have come home with Julie last night. Part of me was a bit annoyed. She and I had rules on bringing people home.

  It was a basic rule for both her and my benefit, never during the workweek. I guess she decided that the rule didn’t apply to this one niter.

  Shit, I was standing in nothing more than a towel, now I have to play host as she sleeps.

  Perfect.

  Just fucking perfect.

  How can my day get any worse?

  Oh yeah that’s right, I get to go to work hung-over.

  I closed the door and turned to seeing him standing there with his head cocked to the side. The man who’s cologne had me so aroused. Appraising him with a cautious eye, dressed in what appeared to be an extremely expensive suit, purple tonal check shirt, with a matching tie. He looked extremely well put together, if I was to offer an opinion, and not at all her type. In fact, he was mine. Holding my chin up
, my instincts kicked in. I needed to display confidence. Even if, I was practically naked. Nudity wasn’t an issue for me. I faced that fear a long time ago. Reigning myself in, I found the woman I’ve become, as I took a moment longer to appraise the man before me.

  His blonde hair, perfectly out of place. I found myself moving to his perfectly sculpted body. He was built like a football player, wide chest, that lead to what I could only assume, a perfectly v shape at his waist. Moving back up to his chiseled jaw, catching his eyes, I felt a bit trapped. Something about them appeared a bit dangerous. Suddenly, that pull, that heat that blossomed returned in spades. If I had underwear on they would be soaked. He half grinned almost in notice of my long appreciation of what I was looking at. No embarrassment, on my part. He clearly knew he was attractive. That, I didn’t doubt for a second. The man oozed arrogance and confidence, beyond anything I thought I had learned to possess. His grin and body language had me pulling slow, desperate breaths. Possibly, it was just the way his green eyes appeared to look straight through me. For a second that scared the shit out of me. For lack of a better description, I was dumbfounded and frozen in place.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t realize Julie had a flat mate”, he spoke smoothly, not bothering to hide the fact that he was amused.

  Oh, shit an English accent to add to my already needy attraction. I had to admit that was one of my bigger weaknesses’…ok I’m jealous she landed herself an English hottee.

  Shit! I was attracted to him. He spoke all of one sentence, and I was about undone. The moisture between my legs was substantial. Holy Shit!

  Shaking myself out of this ridiculous hold, I broke my stare.

  Ok, pull it together; I have a towel, not naked. I repeated several times to myself. He’s just a man, nothing more. Just a freaking man.

  Finding my voice and shutting whatever this was down, I pulled a final breath and spoke. “I’m assuming you made the pot. Thank you.” Thank god, I’ve learned to hide my emotions. Trying not to look him in the eyes, I failed. Frozen once more, I had to pull my shit together.

  Why, I wasn’t sure, but whenever my eyes fell into his I felt trapped and unable to speak. This wasn’t good. I’ve never experienced this type hold or attraction to anyone.

  Ever…

  Oh, thank god for small favors. The loud and extremely intrusive sound of my cell phone started screaming at me, breaking this ridiculous hold. Shaking my head, I turned and made a dash to my room.

  My phone on the nightstand; the ringer was screaming louder. It was my boss, and I knew he was calling to bark more orders to me. Rolling my eyes, I picked up the cell phone and answered.

  “Good Morning Mr. Leiber.” I answered while turning back to at my door.

  He was still staring at me. His eyes on me like a hunter sizing up its prey; had my arousal peaked once more. In that moment, I realized I wanted to be his prey, and my growing need was dictating my actions.

  Shit, this needed to stop. I had no idea what in the world Mr. Leiber was telling me, it was clear I needed to pay attention. Mr. Leiber only called me when it was vital.

  I walked to the door, meeting his eyes; the arrogance within his grin had me suddenly wanting to play his game. A wicked grin took hold of my blank face, arrogance. I knew that game well. Laughing silently, I slammed the door shut. Wow, what in the world is going on with me today?

  I needed to get dressed. Multitasking, I listened to Mr. Leiber’s comments and orders, while pulling my lingerie from the dresser drawers. Off to the closet, picking out a classic black sheath. I quickly threw it to the bed. While trying to put on my stockings, and listening to my boss.

  With a few more submissive “yes sir’s” He finally hung up. Finally, dressed and looking a bit more human I gathered my things. I was not the submissive type in the least, yet I knew how to play the role and well. I did it very well when it came to playing the role of Mr. Leiber’s assistant.

  Stepping back to the kitchen, I realized Julie’s guest was no longer around. The cologne now watered in the air.

  Shit, I never even introduced myself. Actually, nor did he?

  Hmm.

  Whatever, I didn’t have time thinking about exchanging pleasantries or playing host to her one-night stands. Walking over to the counter I reached for my cup.

  Odd, the lid fastened. I knew I hadn’t put the cover on the cup.

  Biting my lip, I could only assume that the one niter must have. Jesus!! I needed him out of my head. I was actually impressed that he was somewhat, thoughtful? Please, I’m not some stupid woman, easily manipulated by random gestures.

  Grabbing my cup, I walked out the front door locking it. This one niter was clearly just that as I got the impression, that he was not the commitment type. Hell, he came home with her, yet he looked at me as if he were stripping me down.

  Men, such pigs. It’s a wonder why I treat them the way I do. Better to beat them at their own game vs. them doing it to me. Yes, I was a bit cold when it came to men, perhaps even jaded. You would think that some man hurt me and caused me to be this way, however, that was not my story. I wasn’t heartless, well I hoped I wasn’t. I had the privilege to learn the opposite of myself. I learned my worth. Possibly in a cruel fashion, but I learned, and I was grateful for the lesson.

  Thinking of Julie, shit. She was nothing like me. She wore her heart on sleeve, though, she thought otherwise. At least Julie had the luxury of sleeping in this morning, and not having to witness the truth of her one night-stand. What an ass. But then again, he was a man, so by default he would be.

  Julie and I had met by chance thru a mutual friend a year ago. Chris a friend from college had introduced us, knowing we were both looking for a roommate. Chris, was an x boyfriend, well he was something. He and I were friends with some benefits. Chris is what I would call that rarity, he was the kind of man whom had a heart. His pursuits were endearing, but fruitless in my opinion. He looked for the wounded and wanted to fix people. I suppose to some degree, he thought to fix me. We remained friends; I guess I was a bit of a sap. He got me on some level, I suppose. His introduction to Julie was convenient. They had been friends for a long time, prior to me meeting him. They both came from similar backgrounds. So moving in together just fit. Living with her had been ideal, beyond her occasional one niter’s, as we, both had labeled them. Julie was originally from New York and had moved to Maryland.

  Julie was an aspiring photographic journalist, and came from a highly politically connected family. Her father was the ambassador from England and her mother an extremely prominent attorney in New York.

  With that type of money at her disposal, I never understood why she would want a roommate financially.

  I didn’t believe she needed one, but nonetheless here we were a year later.

  Beyond the basics, she and I actually didn’t know each other, as well as we, should have. She respected my privacy, as I did hers. Sure we hung out, had the same mutual friends, but that was more default of the fact that we lived together. The personal stuff, she kept to herself.

  I never found a problem with the lack of sharing of private information. I relished it.

  I didn’t care to discuss my own personal baggage with anyone. And I had to freight loads of it.

  Honestly, I don’t think I ever told anyone …well that is discussed it with anyone. There was nothing out of the ordinary about my upbringing. I had loving parents and a sister that I adored. I grew up as normal as anyone could have. We were a normal middle class family, ok maybe not normal or middle class, but I liked to think we were. Normalcy was something I oddly like to strive for, knowing it was an impossibility. My family’s name alone was the reason, I changed my last name.

  My father ran his own company at one time, and we lived as any normal middle class family would be. There was no extravagant spending on anything, no crazy vacations to exotic locales; it was normal living. My mother was a do-it yourself kind of woman, and we didn’t have maids and such. In my opinion, we we
re normal until my 18th birthday.

  I had lost my entire family that night. I was the only one whom survived. That was seven years ago.

  Our home had caught fire. The report stated an electrical fire had started between the walls. It ravaged the house so quickly from the neighbor’s statement to the cops.

  I had no memory of any of it. I had woken in the hospital days later, without one burn on me.

  I had nothing after the fire.

  I moved in with my grandmother almost immediately. She was now my only family. I had a few, distant cousins, but none of whom I ever remembered. I was perfectly well with just having my grandmother. She was all I needed. I liked my life just fine. My life became one lesson after another since that day. I found my true purpose in a storm of surprises, testing my very character. However, I loved my life; I truly liked who I was. My job on the other hand…hate would be a mild word to describe my current position.

  Standing in the hall, I felt sorry for Julie.

  Poor Julie, she and Chris were probably more alike than I had realized. In many ways, all her attempts at one night stands were all a show to mask the fact that she was the committed type. She was desperately looking for the one. Julie certainly didn’t have any luck when it came to men. She was trying too hard and looking in the wrong places. Thinking of her one night stand, more than likely, she was never going to see him again.

  Nor would I…hopefully, I prayed to myself.

  Taking in the scent, his cologne seemed to linger. This was insane! I needed to focus on something else.

  “What is taking this elevator so long?”

  I didn’t have time to wait. It looks as if the stairs will have to do. Seven flights in heels. Shit…

  I ran down them as quickly as I could. Desperate not to fall on my face. Finally, down to the garage level I busted thru the heavy metal door.

  This damn dress is so freaking tight! I probably should have opted for a pair of slacks this morning.