The Lonely Apprentice (The Lonely Girl Series Book 1) Read online

  The Lonely Apprentice

  By Autumn Skye

  Copyright March 2017

  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 One

  Delia

  “If you really want the job you’ll get it,” Cheyenne said before taking a sip from her wine glass.

  “Maybe,” I shrugged.

  “There’s no maybe about it. You work hard and you always get what you go after. Now relax and have another slice of pizza.”

  “Wine and pizza,” I smiled. “What a combo, huh?”

  We were curled up on her sofa, the one that used to be half mine. It had been nearly a year since she’d asked me to leave. That had been the right thing for both of us, but it had also been the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. A lot of people thought it was strange we were still such close friends, but I could never have stayed angry with her, much less cut her out of my life completely. We were best friends forever. We just didn’t fit well as a couple.

  For one thing, I was career minded to the point of not having enough time for anything else, including a girlfriend. She respected that, but she needed more from me and my mind was always on my designs. I couldn’t help it. Designers are wired that way. Even when we’re staring into the eyes of the one we love, somewhere in the back of our minds we’re envisioning our next stunning creation. She felt there was some part of me that couldn’t wait to pull away from her and lock myself inside my studio where I could get to work on a new line of evening wear. Unfortunately, she was partly right. No matter how much I loved her, I had a compulsion to lose myself in my work. Some people who date those who are passionate about their careers can handle taking a back seat to it, but not Cheyenne. I didn’t blame her. I couldn’t imagine how I’d have felt if she’d put anything before me. I was the bad girl here, so I considered myself lucky she let me be in her life at all at this point. She deserved better than I’d given her. What a shame it had taken losing her to realize that.

  “I want this job,” I groaned, ignoring the cardboard pizza box sitting on the coffee table.

  “I know you do. I can help.”

  “How?” I asked, giving her a dubious look.

  “I know where she hangs out.”

  “Are you joking?”

  “No, Nadine Robertson can be found at Connie’s every Tuesday night, which lucky for you, is tonight. It’s perfect. Your interview is tomorrow morning. You can get a leg up on the competition by accidentally on purpose bumping into her and introducing yourself. You’re very charming when you want to be, Delia. By the time you walk into her office tomorrow the job will be yours.”

  “How do you know she’ll be there?”

  “I’ve been going to Connie’s a lot lately. Tuesday night is singles night, if you recall. Does that bother you?”

  We’d met at Connie’s on singles night. Of course, it bothered me, but I didn’t have a right to be jealous, did I? “No, I think it’s great you’re getting out there. I hope you meet someone.”

  “Thanks, but tonight is all about you meeting Nadine Robertson.”

  “A chance to be her assistant could do wonders for my career. I could learn so much from her,” I said with a wistful sigh.

  Nadine was everything I wanted to be, a fashion designer that had started her own online retail shop and made a fortune all on her own. She knew about things like marketing and those ever loving algorithms that could make or break you in a web based business. She knew all the things I needed to know and besides all that, she had a hell of a lot of talent. Now she was in search of a personal assistant who would also be a sort of apprentice she would mentor. Every hopeful fashion entrepreneur in the city of Austin was after that job, hoping that working with Nadine was their ticket to becoming Nadine.

  “You’ll get it. We just have to do something about your hair first,” Cheyenne giggled, running a nurturing finger through a wisp that had fallen over my eyes and tucking it behind my ear.

  “Do you really think I have a chance? I haven’t done a thing with my degree since I graduated. I have absolutely no experience.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. You manage an upscale retail shop.”

  “Managing a shop isn’t a blip on the fashion world’s radar. That’s what people who don’t make it wind up doing for a living.”

  “Come on,” she said, rolling her eyes and pulling on my arm until I budged and rose to my feet. “Hop in the shower. We have a lot to do.”

  We sure did. I was wearing a baggy pair of sweatpants and a tank top I’d bought a few summers ago. I loved creating clothes, but oddly enough, I was perfectly happy to sit around in frumpy rags while I was doing it.

  I closed the door to the bathroom behind me and let the water run until it was a soothing warm, bordering on hot before stepping inside the shower stall. After lathering my body up with Cheyenne’s scented body soap, I washed and conditioned my hair until the air was thick with the aroma of vanilla and lilac. No wonder she always smelled so fucking good. I remembered how I used to breathe in her scent when we were making love and even though she was waiting just beyond the door, I suddenly missed her so much I could have cried.

  I knew she’d say I didn’t miss her, not really. I missed having someone, anyone, and I needed to find the right person for me. I also believed that it was true, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

  I dried myself off and left the bathroom wearing only a fluffy blue towel. When I entered the bedroom, she was rummaging through the closet with her back to me, her long golden brown hair in a ponytail that hung down to her ass. I leaned against the dresser and waited for her to turn around and notice me. When she finally did she held up a red silk dress with a low cleavage. I recognized it as the one I’d made for her last Valentine’s Day.

  “This is perfect for you,” she gushed, clearly proud of her choice.

  “That’s what I said when I gave it to you,” I recalled aloud.

  “Yes, but I bet it looks fabulous on you,” she said.

  “I was thinking we should just forget this whole thing and stay in tonight. It seems sort of desperate for me to show up at Connie’s and ambush my prospective employer. Not only desperate, but dangerous. What if I piss her off?”

  “I don’t think it’s desperate at all. It shows initiative and a willingness to do whatever it takes to get what you want. Those are two qualities most employers look for, right?”

  “Cheyenne, really, it’s a crazy plan. Besides, I’d really rather spend the evening with you.”

  “If that were true we’d still be together,” she countered, a look of regret falling over her face the instant the words left her mouth. She didn’t like hurting me, but it was in her nature to be honest, brutally so.

  “Maybe I’m trying to change. I mean, regardless of what you think, I miss you. Don’t you miss me?” I considered dropping the towel. In the early days of our relationship, before I ruined everything, she’d have been all over me if I’d done that. She couldn’t keep her hands off me back then. I could see from the expression on her face that such a trick wouldn’t work anymore. I was glad I could read her so well, because throwing myself a
t her and being rejected would have stung like hell.

  “You know I miss you, but we’re past that.”

  “How can we be past it if we still miss each other?”

  “We’re friends now and I’m trying to help you. Anyway, you’re just looking for a way to chicken out. You’re twenty-five years old, Delia. Be a grown up. Get over here and put this sexy dress on,” she demanded.

  “It’s almost as if you’re suggesting I use my sex appeal to get the job.”

  “It couldn’t hurt. I read the gossip columns. Nadine Robertson hasn’t had a fling worth writing about in awhile. She’s single and you’re beautiful. A little flirting couldn’t hurt,” she grinned.

  “That’s horrible.”

  “Oh, if your looks can get you in the door you can impress her with your amazing talent later. As it is, you can’t afford to take the moral high ground. You can do that when you’re rich and famous with hot interns chasing after you. Now get dressed. I think you still have some underwear left in the dresser drawer.

  I imagined I did. The day she broke up with me I’d packed in a hurry, wanting to get away from her before I did or said something that would push her out of my life forever.

  She left me alone in the bedroom to dress. I found a red laced bra and a pair of matching panties in the top left drawer. We wore the same shoe sized, so I also grabbed a pair of black heels from the back of the closet without bothering to ask. It served her right, since this insane scheme was her idea. The dress fit me- barely. It was snug around the bodice and my ample cleavage wasn’t as concealed as I would have liked. Sexy was one thing, but bimbo was entirely another. I hardly looked what you would call professional and I couldn’t find a jacket that was right to wear over the dress in order to give it a more modest appeal.

  “I’m really not sure this is a good idea, Cheyenne,” I told her again when she returned.

  “Have a seat,” she ordered, ignoring my protest.

  I sat at the vanity table, annoyed that she’d disregarded my objection.

  “Trust me,” she said, taking a large cluster of my hair into her hand and running a brush through it. “We’ll pin it up and do your makeup. Nadine won’t be able to resist you.”

  I sighed. There was no room for doubt. We were over as far as she was concerned. I never could have done her hair and makeup only to send her off to hook up with a sexy, rich, socialite who had a reputation for fucking and leaving every woman she came close to. I read the gossip columns, too. Nadine Robertson was a player, and it didn’t seem to bother Cheyenne at all. That said a lot. It told me more than I wished to hear.

  Chapter Two

  If I’d gone there in a different state of mind things might have worked out differently. As it was, I walked into Connie’s open for anything. I supposed some part of me hoped Cheyenne would be sorry if I hooked up with some hot girl that night. I didn’t really think it’d be with Nadine, but someone. If Cheyenne was over me, maybe it was time I showed her I was moving on as well. I was aware that prowling a night club for a one night stand just to prove something to your ex-lover was as pathetic as it got, but I didn’t care just then. Pain is a strong motivator, so much so that I almost forgot the real reason I was there.

  I didn’t believe I had a good chance of meeting up with Nadine anyway. I imagined if she was anywhere around it’d be in the VIP room, segregated from us little people. I mean, she wasn’t just successful. She was ultra rich. She lived alone in a mansion just outside the city. There were pictures of her lavish property online, but you couldn’t really see much because the estate was hidden behind tall iron gates. She ran her business out of her home and the lucky person who got the position as her apprentice-slash-personal assistant would see the inside of that mammoth house, but I probably wasn’t that person. There was no reason she’d choose me. I’d used my degree in fashion design to land a not all that glamorous job managing a clothing retail shop. When I’d taken the job, I’d told myself it was only until I got my own clothing line off the ground, but that had been two years ago. Starting a business took more than ambition and a day dream. It took financial backing. You had to spend money to make money and I didn’t have any. I had even less now that I’d moved out of Cheyenne’s and was living on my own. My checks were just big enough to cover my rent and utilities. One of the reasons I hadn’t designed anything new in a while was that I couldn’t afford the materials. Yeah, I was going to be such a smashing success with no cash to invest.

  What I did have was a decent body and I was certainly dressed to show it off. Maybe I’d meet someone and party the night away. Maybe I’d be so hung over in the morning I’d blow off the interview. The more I thought of it the more it seemed a waste of time. I’d only gotten the interview because one of my old college professors knew Nadine personally and had done me a favor by setting it up. Professor Mason had always supported my work. We’d stayed in touch after I graduated. He had a lot more confidence in me than I had in myself. He and Cheyenne had that in common. They were the only two friends I had in this world.

  I paid the doorman the cover charge and made my way to the bar. I hadn’t been here in a while. At one time, I was a regular. The bartender, Shelia, would see me coming and have my margarita made before I got there. Tonight, I didn’t recognize the brunette woman behind the partition.

  “Hi, hon, what can I get you?”

  “A margarita, no salt,” I said.

  She nodded.

  “Where’s Shelia?”

  “She quit a while back. I’m Marie.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Delia.”

  “Your drink is coming right up,” she said before moving to the other end of the bar to take another order from a group of women huddled there.

  I glanced around the place. Lots of women were on the dance floor, but I didn’t recognize any of them. I really had been out of circulation for too long, but Cheyenne apparently couldn’t say the same. I wondered how many of these women she’d danced with and then realized I didn’t want to know.

  I slipped Marie a ten and told her to keep the change when she brought my drink. I’d barely taken my first sip when a pretty blond sidled up to me and took the stool next to mine.

  “Hi,” she said in a shrill voice, straining to be heard over the music.

  “Hello, I’m Delia,” I greeted her.

  “This place is packed tonight, huh?” she asked.

  “It looks that way.”

  “I’d offer to buy you a drink, but you already have one,” she smiled.

  “I could buy you one,” I said, taking the hint.

  “Thanks. I could go for a beer.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “ Elsa.”

  “That’s pretty.”

  She shook her head. “I hate it.”

  “Shelia, Elsa would like a beer,” I called out.

  Shelia was apparently too busy to reply, but did set a bottle in front of Elsa a few seconds later. I slid her another five and waved my hand to refuse the change she held out to me.

  “So, Delia, what brings you here tonight?” my new companion inquired.

  “I was hoping to run into a business acquaintance who hangs out here, but I don’t think she’ll show.”

  “Business, huh? What is it that you do?” Elsa asked after what felt like an awkward silence.

  It hit me that I wasn’t up for this. I hadn’t had to do the single thing in a while and I couldn’t remember sucking at it this badly before I’d met Cheyenne. I decided it might be easier to get right to the point.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What exactly are you looking for, Elsa? Are you hoping to find a new girlfriend or do you just want to have some fun tonight? Because if you’re only looking for fun, do you really have to know what I do for a living before you walk out that door with me?”

  I fully expected her to call me a bitch and storm off, but she smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “I guess not. Wanna
dance?”

  Holy crap. That worked? She was being honest. I had to give her that. I was the one playing games, trying to push myself into doing something I wasn’t ready for yet. Did I want my first one night stand to be remembered as something I’d done just to get it over with so I could tell myself lies about how my heart was on the mend? I had no desire to dance with Elsa. I didn’t know what the hell I wanted, but I was sure I did not want to dance with Elsa. I likely would have if Nadine Robertson hadn’t walked right past my seat at that very moment.

  I couldn’t believe it. My jaw fell open and I could hear Cheyenne’s smug voice in my head giving me a big, “I told you so.” Nadine wore a form fitting white dress that set off the auburn in her shoulder length hair. As she walked on towards the VIP room she left a trail of musky perfume hanging in the air. Her posture was erect, giving her a domineering quality. She walked alone with a confident stride that said she was perfectly fine with that.

  “I’m sorry, Elsa, I’ve got to go,” I said, barely glancing at my would-be conquest before hopping off my seat and chasing after Nadine.

  “Bitch!”

  There it was. I knew Elsa had it in her.

  “Ms. Robertson,” I called, surprised when she stopped in her tracks and turned to face me. I hadn’t thought I’d get a response so easily. She was probably used to people shouting out her name wherever she went.

  “Yes?”

  “Hello, I’m Delia Goldstein,” I held out my hand to her.

  She took it and gave it a quick shake.

  “How may I help you?”

  “I actually have an appointment with you tomorrow morning, an interview for the assistant job.”

  “I am interviewing several candidates tomorrow. Your name sounds familiar. I’m sure you’re on the list, but why are you here now? Do you make it a habit to stalk your prospective employers?”

  “Um-no, I just happened to be here. I saw you and thought I’d introduce myself,” I lied.

  The music stopped and the lead singer of the band announced they were taking a break, making it easier for us to have a less strained conversation.