Claiming Callie: Part one Read online

  Claiming Callie

  Part One

  By Paige Rion

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 by Theresa Souders

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. No parts of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE: Callie

  CHAPTER TWO: Dean

  CHAPTER THREE: Callie

  CHAPTER FOUR: Dean

  CHAPTER FIVE: Callie

  CHAPTER SIX: Dean

  CHAPTER SEVEN: Callie

  CHAPTER EIGHT: Dean

  CHAPTER NINE: Callie

  CHAPTER TEN: Callie

  More Claiming Callie

  CHAPTER ONE

  CALLIE

  Callie Cartwright sweeps her golden locks off the side of her face and cocks her head. “Wha-what?”

  Did I hear him right?

  Mr. Bucek leans back in his chair, forehead wrinkled. His gaze focuses on her and he scratches his jaw, where his five o’clock shadow is already making its presence known. He resembles her father far more than she likes, and the memory of her dad pierces deep inside her like jagged glass.

  “I’m sorry, but you heard me. You could be a real asset to us here, but we can’t hire you with your current financial situation.”

  Callie closes her eyes. Inhale. Exhale.

  “Okay,” she says, drawing out the word, her mind scrambling to come up with a solution. “I understand to an extent why you may not want an employee with a healthy spending habit, but—”

  “Healthy?” Mr. Bucek raises a brow. “You’ve got four credit cards, all completely maxed out. The total debt is more than enough to pay for a year’s worth of tuition. Not to mention, some of the accounts have been delinquent over the past year. Add to that the student loans you’re going to have after graduation, your car loan, and living expenses, and you’ve got yourself one hell of a rap sheet of bills for a fresh grad. And according to your credit report, your cards are like the revolving door at Macy’s.”

  Raising a finger, she says, “I resent that. I much prefer Nordstrom.”

  “I’m serious, Callie.”

  Sighing, she shrinks back into her chair. Crap. That new Michael Kors handbag was a mistake. Damn all end-of-season sales to hell. She supposes she didn’t need that new pair of BCBG boots either, but they were so cute, with the mock zipper under the laces and…

  Focus.

  Her entire livelihood, her whole post-graduation plan, depends on getting this job with GG Financial. If she loses her spot here, she’s screwed.

  She folds her hands in front of her and tries to keep her voice calm. “You’re telling me I may not get the job just because I happen to have an expensive shoe habit?” She forces a smile, but even she can feel it waver as Mr. Bucek’s lips don’t even twitch.

  “Listen, you’ve been interning with us for over two years now. I’ve come to think of you like a daughter most of the time—”

  Ouch. Callie raises a hand before he can say more. “I totally get it, but let’s cut to the chase here.” Callie takes a deep breath. She can feel the best job prospect for a mathematics major interested in finance slipping through her fingers like fine grains of sand. “I know this business inside and out. I can work any of the other interns—not to mention half your elementary staff—under the table. Who cares about my financial situation if I’m good at my job? What is it they say? ‘Those who can’t do, teach’? That’s what I do. I educate clients and I advise. I send them in the right direction for financial profit and success. I can help turn around distraught companies. I might have a poor financial forecast myself, but I’m damn good at this job. I’ve worked my butt off these last two years. Are you really telling me that at the end of the year, when you go to hire someone, you’re going to pick one of those dorks over me?” Callie nods outside Mr. Bucek’s office where two interns huddle in a cubicle, pretending not to listen. On their computer screen is World of Warcraft.

  “Enough said.” Callie crosses her arms in front of her.

  “World of Warcraft is like candy to nerds like those guys.” Mr. Bucek says and almost cracks a smile. Almost.

  “You get my point,” she says, her voice firm.

  She laid it all out on the table. Every bit of what she said is true, and Mr. Bucek knows it. She can see it in his eyes. There is nothing left to say. All she can do now is stare at him, batting her baby blues, in the hopes he might cave and retract his declination to hire her at the end of the semester.

  Mr. Bucek sighs and brings a hand up to his face, rubbing away lines of tension in his forehead, then drops his hands and leans forward on his desk. “Okay, here’s the deal…” He clasps his hands together and catches her gaze. “GG Financial is one of the biggest, best advising firms in the nation. We can’t hire you with your current debt. My boss won’t let me, and I can’t say I blame him. How could we defend it to clients if they found out? Prudential Financial has been trying to get ahold of our major accounts and steal a chunk of our business for years. They’ve been nipping at our heels. If they heard of any black spots in our record, even if it’s just the poor credit and debt of a junior advisor, we’d lose our foothold and number-one spot. Our record thus far is spotless, and it’s because of our quality personnel on every level. We can’t have you handling people’s investments and making recommendations when your own spending is out of control and your credit’s a mess.”

  Callie’s back dampens with sweat and her throat goes dry. She’s losing. “But—”

  Mr. Bucek raises a hand. “But…I’ll give you this last semester before you graduate.”

  Her pulse races and her ears prick at the sound of hope.

  “At the end of the school year, as you know, we’ll be hiring one intern to join our team. If you can manage to get your spending under control, pay down some of your debt, and raise your credit score by graduation, the position is yours. Otherwise, we’ll probably give it to Steve.” Mr. Bucek’s lips flatten into a thin line as he glances at the two interns behind her.

  Callie’s stomach dips as his words sink in. “That’s only five months,” she nearly chokes. It was impossible.

  Mr. Bucek nods. “I know. Remember, you don’t have to be debt-free or have an eight-hundred-plus credit score. Just show significant improvement. That means no more credit cards!” He points a finger at her. “No more charging. No delinquencies. Every dime should be devoted to paying down your debt.”

  Callie swallows over the knot in her throat. “And if I can’t?”

  He shrugs, and his eyes go soft. “I’ll be sad to see you go, but I’ll write you one hell of a letter of recommendation.”

  Nausea bubbles in her gut. She has almost twenty-five thousand dollars in credit card debt, a spending habit that would put Kim Kardashian to shame—and five months to fix the situation. But what choice does she have? She can’t lose this opportunity. Not after all the work she has put into it. Not with the starting salary for a junior advisor at GG being twice that of other companies. Not so close to graduation. And especially not to Steve!

  She glances out into the office and sees Steve hovering over the computer, now playing Final Fantasy and laughing like a hyena, his thin wire frames falling off his nose. Oh, hell no.

  Callie turns
her gaze back to Mr. Bucek. She has no idea if she can even do it, and she can feel the new Calvin Klein dress she wanted slip through her grasp as she says, “It’s a deal.”

  Five months. Twenty-five thousand dollars. And a lifetime of spending.

  * * *

  Callie sinks into her Mini Cooper and slams the door. She glances around at the small confines of her car.

  See, no excess here. This is a perfectly normal car. It’s not like I went out and bought a Bentley or anything.

  Although that’s because she didn’t get approved for the loan on the car she really wanted. But that’s beside the point. The fact is that she can cut back. She can save money, find a way to rein in her debt. Can’t she?

  She exhales a long breath and starts the car. There’s only one thing to do. What she always does when there’s trouble. She needs to go back to her apartment, find Jinny, and hatch a plan.

  Thirty minutes later, Callie bursts through the door to the pad she shares with her best friend. The familiar sunny interior, with its yellow walls and brightly colored furniture does nothing to boost her mood. Groaning when she spots Jinny tangled up on the couch with her new boyfriend, Todd, she marches up to them and clears her throat.

  Jinny peeks up at her and pushes away from Todd, who continues to kiss the air for a moment as if searching for Jinny’s long-lost lips before he realizes she has leaned away from him.

  “Uh oh.” Jinny pushes her dark hair out of her face, and her eyes widen. “You have that look about you. What happened? Did you miss a sale at Macy’s? Michael Kors kick the bucket?”

  So not funny.

  Callie narrows her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. “Ha-ha. I have a real crisis here and the first thing you do is spit obscenities at me?” She places a hand over her heart, trying not to crack a smile. “I’m hurt, really. And the Michael Kors thing? Cruel.”

  Jinny snickers as Todd rises from his seat on the couch. His too-long hair is a massive knot of tangles, and he’s sporting a fresh hickey on his neck.

  Callie grimaces. Gross.

  Jinny reaches up and yanks on the bottom of his shirt. “You going so soon?” She juts her bottom lip out in a pout.

  Double gross.

  Todd stretches, raising his arms above his head, and his lips twist in a smile. “I think so. I’ve gotta work tonight, anyway. I have the late shift, and there’s bound to be a bunch of drunk students coming in for pizza and burgers. You know the drill.”

  Todd works at a diner just off the University of Pittsburgh campus, which is where Jinny met him, and though Callie likes him well enough, she can’t deny her relief that he has to leave. It’s been a while since either she or Jinny has had a steady boyfriend, and she still isn’t used to sharing her with anyone. And right now, Callie definitely feels selfish.

  I need Jinny’s help. No distractions.

  Callie flashes him a tight smile and waves him away. “Okay, well, have fun with that,” she says, trying to disguise the cheer in her voice, but Jinny knows her too well and glowers at her as she stands.

  Whoops. Fail.

  Todd walks to the door with Jinny trailing behind him like some lovesick puppy. “Yeah, I’ll do that,” he says. “You two have fun talking about your crisis, shoes, or whatever it is you’re always blabbing about.”

  “I’ll see you later, babe.” Jinny says, like he didn’t just indirectly insult her best friend. She tips her face up and kisses him.

  Callie turns away, ignoring the kissy noises coming from behind her until they stop altogether and she hears the thunk of a closing door.

  Finally!

  Spinning back around, she raises her hands. “Oh, thank goodness! Jinny, I—”

  Rap, rap, rap!

  “Grrr…” Callie grits her teeth and lunges toward the door. “Did he forget something? It’s been two seconds…” She wrenches it open and snaps her mouth shut at sight of their new visitor. “Oh. It’s just you,” she says, then turns away, nearly slamming it in Jinny’s little brother’s face.

  “Hello to you, too. It’s always nice to feel special when I come here,” Dean says with a wry grin.

  “Oh, don’t sound so sulky. It’s very girly.”

  And I don’t have time for your antics today. I have a serious crisis! A problem. An emergency. Catastrophe—a catastrophic event, for God’s sake! Okay, maybe that’s a little extreme, but still… That’s how it feels, and with every passing second that I don’t discuss it with Jinny, I feel the weight of it all even more.

  Dean steps inside and shuts the door behind him. He must’ve just left practice because he’s still dressed in his basketball uniform, his dark hair unruly and damp with sweat. He clutches his lucky ball and sidesteps Callie, the whole time smiling—completely and utterly oblivious to her plight—and begins spinning the ball on one finger. Able to palm a ball since the age of two, Dean was a born basketball player. Of the fifteen years she’s known Jinny and the Michaels, Callie can’t remember a time when Dean didn’t have a ball nearby.

  Because he’s like a fixture in her apartment, as well her life, Callie knows exactly where he’s headed. To the refrigerator. Where he’ll scarf up any and all edible substances at lightning-fast speeds.

  She watches for a moment to see if she’s right. And of course, she is. He heads to the kitchen.

  Though the modest apartment she shares with Jinny is nice, it’s pretty minimal, especially the tiny kitchen. But Callie can’t cook. Anything. Unless you count cereal and peanut butter and jelly. All she cared about when they scoped out the place was the huge closet. That, and that they found a place within their budget—yes, rare for her—because she needed the funds her parents had set aside, as a part of their will and trust, to cover her room and board.

  Besides, the little apartment sure as hell beat the dorms. A lot of the students from her classes commuted, something Callie wouldn’t mind, but it wasn’t an option for her. Since her parents’ death just before her junior year in high school, she had no family to speak of. Only Jinny, Dean, and the rest of the Michaels. All the other students she knows still live in dorms on campus.

  Living in the dorms my senior year? No thanks.

  “You got any food in here?” Dean asks as he wrenches the refrigerator open.

  Jinny smirks. “Probably not. And even if we did, it wouldn’t be enough for your fat butt.”

  Straightening, Dean’s 6’3” frame towers over Jinny’s petite five feet. He places a hand over his chest, contorting his face in mock offense. “I’m wounded, truly.”

  Callie wrinkles her nose, taking in the damp brown hair curling above his ears. “Ew. And don’t be sticking your sweaty head in our fridge. Gross. You could’ve at least showered.”

  “Oh, I’d love to take a shower here. Thanks, Callie. And, no, your assistance won’t be needed.” His blue eyes dance with humor. “I think I can handle it. Once girls get a look at all this,” he runs a hand up and down his body, “they can’t get enough. Although, if you insist…”

  Jinny shudders. “Oh, gross.”

  “You’re so retarded,” Callie says. “And don’t you know it’s still winter, dumb-head? Where’s your coat? You’re going to get pneumonia going out like that.”

  “In that case, I can die a happy man because yours will be the last face I see.”

  “Pathetic,” Callie says at his attempts at charm. But she smiles despite herself.

  Like a shot, Dean lunges toward her. He grabs her around the waist and bends down, rubbing his sweaty head all over her while she screams and twists in his iron grip. “Get off me! That’s disgusting. You idiot, get off!”

  When he releases her, she swats at him, but he dodges her hand and laughs. “You’re such a guy,” she says, wiping at her chest and neck.

  Dean shrugs and goes back to rummaging in the fridge.

  “Listen, I don’t have time for joking today. I have problems.” Callie draws out the word. “Real problems.”

  Dean pops his head up a
nd sniffs a piece of moldy cheese, then grimaces. “Order some food and I’m all ears.”

  Sighing, Callie snatches the phone off the counter. “Fine. Jinny, your brother’s obnoxious.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” Jinny leans against the counter and sweeps her long brown hair out of her face.

  “Maybe you’ll shut up once you’re shoving food in your face.” Callie says, eyeing Dean. She dials the China Garden and orders enough food to feed an army, then hangs up and says, “It’ll be here in ten, so if you could just focus until then…”

  “Okay, okay.” Dean closes the refrigerator and raises his hands. “I’ll be good. Let’s hear about this problem. There’s nothing Dean Michaels can’t fix.”

  “Yup, shoot,” Jinny says. She moves to the couch and plops down.

  Finally!

  Callie takes a deep breath and exhales. “I went to work today and I was steamrolled with the absolute suckiest news imaginable. So, you know how I’ve been interning for them for two years now? And I’m awesome at what I do. Awesome,” she repeats, just to make sure they’re clear. “I have the best GPA, I’ve produced the best results, and have the best rapport with clients and my coworkers…”

  “Yes, you’re awesome.” Dean shrugs.

  Callie points a finger at him. “Exactly! I’ve been busting my tail and at the end of the year, GGF is set to hand out one position to one of the interns. Well, that job’s mine. It’s been mine. Everyone knows it, even that little dweebish twerp Steve. But apparently they’ve been preparing reports on us and getting things ready for graduation, to hire and give out recommendations. Well, Mr. Bucek told me, just today, that my financial”—Callie makes air quotes with her fingers—“status is a problem for them. Like they couldn’t have told me this a year ago? And that if I can’t at least get my debt down and improve my credit, then I’m out. They’re going to give the job to someone else.” Callie stops and slinks to the floor, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders like corn silk.