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Rated: 18+ · Book · Romance/Love · #1777075
When Caer finds herself kidnapped she has to rely on a dangerous man
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#724128 added May 17, 2011 at 1:06pm
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I: Genesis
People strive for love. It’s a basic factor in life. For some it seems almost impossible to live without a person, that there is no way, in any stretch of the universe that a person can be without their soul mate, or the person that they believe to be their soul mate. In Caer’s mind, belief is all a lie when it comes to love, or anything for that matter. After all, you can’t spell belief or believe without lie. It’s an important factor. Her entire philosophy revolved around, knowing. You must know that person is perfect for you in order to have a successful relationship. Which is why she chose her profession; the math of love.


She really did have it down to a science. There was no point in questioning her skill, she had an odd gift for getting people who worked well together, married. She would look at someone, male or female, and know that they were perfect for a person, either in their acquaintance or just someone she met at the club. This innate quality, some would call it, led her to be known as the matchmaker among friends and family.


When she was only five or six she had been on a vacation with her Aunt Urma who lived in New York City. It was a magical vacation for someone who had been born and raised on a Montana Ranch. They had gone to the grocery to find some food suitable for a little girl. She had wandered down the aisles looking at all the different items that could not be purchased at the local convenience store in town, located thirty miles away from the ranch. It was then that she had bumped into a rather imposing looking man who had been examining the chocolate chips.


"Sorry." She said, remembering her manners. Her mother had often mentioned how foolish and absent-minded her daughter always was.


The man had bent down, his bearded face broken with a smile. It had been a kind smile, one that made you want to smile back. She did, as she was a rather agreeable child in nature, always wishing to make friends and being rather successful. "Now, where's your mom, pretty lady?" He had asked in a rumbling tone that she did not recognize as a Montana or New York accent.


"My Mommy's in Montana. I'm staying with my aunt!" She proudly announced to the man she was sure would be her next new friend.


"Your aunt huh? Well why don't we find her? I'm sure that she's worrying about you." The man said, concern showing in his eyes. He knew the number of child abductions that occurred in grocery stores was rather staggering. Mothers and Fathers distracted by other children, lists, the items on the shelves, all provided an excellent chance for people to snatch a child right under their parent's noses.


Caer wasn't interested in her aunts worry's though. She was distracted by what was in the man's cart. He had an assortment of baking goods, things that looked rather delicious. Her aunt was a horrible cook and refused to learn. She was purely independent and had declared herself a future spinster. She did not believe that there was anyone in the world for her and she was determined to prove it. Caer knew that her aunt would never be able to last on her own for very long, and if the whispered words she had heard her parents say while they though she was in bed were true, then there was no way she would manage to pull together her life only working as a temp. "What are you planning on making?" She asked the man as she inspected the items in his cart.


"Well," He said looking at the child, trying to come up with the best way to get her to find her aunt. "I'm preparing a dinner for the governor of New York. I'm the personal chef, I'm also hoping to open my own restaurant soon."


"Really?" Caer said with surprisingly good English. Most children dropped words or added on strange endings, her's however, was excellent. "So you can cook?"


"Yes I can." He smiled as she tried to subtly herd her towards the direction she had come from. "I think we should go find your aunt now."


"Does your beard ever get in the way of your cooking?" She asked suddenly, cocking her head to examine it more thoroughly.


"No, it doesn't," He replied, "Why would it?"


"Because if you're tasting the food, you might get hair in it. I know Mommy gets upset when there is hair in the food." She was so serious that it was all he could do to not laugh. "What's your name?" Caer asked, deeming him worthy of her aunt.


"My name is Wesley, I go by Wes though. What's your name?"


"I'm Caer. Spelled C-A-E-R, not K-Y-R-E. I know how to spell my name already, but people have a hard time with it." She said the words solemnly as though she had found a flaw in the human race.


As he was prepared to respond a woman with long blond hair to match the little girl's came down the aisle, a worried look on her face. "Caer!" She cried hurrying down in her high heels.


"Aunt Urma! Meet Wes, he's the personal chef for the governor!" Caer exclaimed as the woman's eyes locked on the tall man with the red beard. She stopped immediately, and Caer knew that it was love at first sight. The rest, is history.


Because of that incident twenty years earlier, Caer had decided that it was her job to unite the single men and women of the world so that they could be incredible together. With a ninety seven percent success rate under her belt, she figured that it was a service she was doing to the world.


But, however relationship savvy Caer Ash may have been, she was horrible with her own relationships. Mostly, she told herself, because she knew there was no one out there for her, and that is what separated her from the rest of the world. While she might dabble in a couple of frivolous relationships, she still knew that there just wasn't a person out there for everyone. And she found too much enjoyment in providing others with beautiful relationships that she knew would be successful and happy.


She had no clue that it was her very own philosophy that would prove her wrong, and get her into the biggest trouble and the biggest scam in history.





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