My Secret Crush: Friends to Lovers #6 Read online

  My Secret Crush

  Friends to Lovers Series

  by

  Reba Bale

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  My Secret Crush (Friends to Lovers, #6)

  About This Book

  Dedication

  Join My Newsletter

  Camille

  Madison

  Camille

  Madison

  Camille

  Madison

  Camille

  Madison

  Camille

  Madison

  Camille

  Epilogue – Madison

  Special Preview

  Other Books by Reba Bale

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  MY SECRET CRUSH

  © 2022 by Reba Bale

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No portion of this book may be reproduced, scanned, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage retrieval system in any form by any means without express permission from the author or publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact the publisher at [email protected].

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, organizations, or locals is entirely coincidental. Trademark names are used editorially with no infringement of the respective owner’s trademark. All activities depicted occur between consenting characters 18 years or older who are not blood related.

  Cover by Paper or Pixels

  About This Book

  They’re destined to love each other from afar, until their worlds collide...

  Barista Camille has a secret: she’s got a crush. An all-encompassing crush on the glamorous older woman who comes into her coffee shop every single day at precisely seven thirty a.m. It’s crazy. Madison doesn’t even know she’s alive, but that doesn’t keep Camille from dreaming about her every night.

  Billionaire Madison has the weight of the world on her shoulders. The CEO of one of Seattle’s largest software firms doesn’t have time for dating, fun, or any type of a personal life. Too many people are depending on her. Yet every day she finds herself lingering at the Morning Jolt coffee shop, flirting with Camille while waiting for her daily cappuccino. There’s something about the free-spirited younger woman that fascinates her, but Madison refuses to be that weird older woman who hits on the barista – no matter how much she wants to.

  Determined to move past her crush, Madison signs up for a lesbian dating site. To her shock, the woman she’s matched with looks a little familiar...and despite their age gap, she and Camille are ninety-eight percent compatible.

  On the surface, their lives couldn’t be more different, but they’re alike in all the ways that matter. Until a tragedy strikes, testing the strength of their new relationship.

  “My Secret Crush” is book six in the “Friends to Lovers” contemporary lesbian romance series. Each book in the series is a steamy standalone featuring an LGBTQ couple making the leap from friends to lovers and looking for their "happily ever after".

  Be sure to check out a free preview of “The Divorcee’s First Time” at the end of this book!

  Dedication

  To everyone who loved someone from afar and was afraid to do something about it. Here’s hoping you’ll find a happily ever after. In the meantime, take a chance.

  What have you got to lose?

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  Camille

  My eyes went to the clock. Seven twenty nine a.m. The door would be opening in five, four, three, two...

  And there she was. My secret crush. Madison Phoenix. Billionaire CEO of Phoenix Software. The woman who didn’t even know I was alive.

  “Good morning Madison,” I said pleasantly. “Triple grande nonfat cappuccino with a blueberry muffin?”

  Madison came into Morning Jolt, the coffee shop where I worked, at precisely seven-thirty every morning, always ordering the exact same thing. Even after serving her coffee every single day for close to a year, she always seemed surprised that I remembered her order.

  “Yes please,” she said, her voice husky as if it was the first time she’d used it today. I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what she sounded like when she first woke up. Our eyes met and held for several breaths before I looked away and keyed her order into the point of sale.

  Don’t be a weirdo, I told myself sternly. She doesn’t even know you exist outside of this coffee shop.

  “That’ll be eight-ninety,” I told her, the same as every day.

  Madison scanned her payment with her phone, adding a five dollar tip. Same as every day. Madison was nothing if not predictable.

  I grabbed the tongs and selected her muffin from the bakery case, sliding it into a paper bag emblazoned with the Morning Jolt logo. Handing the bag to Madison along with a napkin, I assured her, “Your cappuccino will be right up.”

  I studied her out of the corner of my eye while I made her drink. She wasn’t very tall, maybe five four, but she carried herself with the unmistakable air of authority. Even if you didn’t know she was one of the only female CEOs in Seattle’s thriving software industry, if you ran into Madison on the street you’d definitely know she was in charge of something.

  She was wearing her navy blue pantsuit today, the one that hugged her generous hips but was loose in the legs, tapering down too cuffed hems that fell just above her navy blue pumps. Yes, I had categorized every one of the prim outfits she wore to work. She had gone with a pristine white blouse beneath the jacket, the outline of her white bra faintly visible beneath the thin fabric. Her breasts were full, maybe a bit too big for her frame, but she kept them tightly cinched in what I imagined was an expensive bra.

  Madison’s dark brown hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, the style highlighting her sharp cheekbones and naturally tan skin. She looked like she had some Mediterranean blood, maybe Italian. Whatever her heritage, she was beautiful. And completely off limits.

  She was wearing her blue framed glasses today, matching her suit. She seemed to have different frames to match every outfit. Behind the glasses, almond shaped brown eyes shone with intelligence.

  Thanks to some internet stalking, I knew that she was thirty-five, ten years older than me. She’d started Phoenix in her dorm room at the University of Washington, developing a first-of-its-kind software that helped businesses and influencers to schedule social media posts in advance. By the time she’d gotten her MBA a few years later, Phoenix’s software was one of the most popular options out there. The company had gone on to create several other super profitable products, making Madison and her early investors billionaires.

  A therapist would probably have a field day with my obsession with Madison. I had a google alert on my phone for any mentions of her in the press, and I’d adjusted my work schedule so I could be here early and see her every weekday morning. It was totally lame, but the five minutes I spent with her each morning was the highlight of my day.

  None of the articles I’d read had said anything about her personal life. She seemed to keep low-key outside of work. As far as I could tell, she didn’t attend too many of those fancy charity events that rich people liked to attend, but when she did, she was usually accompanied by one of her staff.

  I wished I could ask her out, but I didn’t even know if she dated women. Not that it would matter. CEOs like Madison Phoenix did not date plain old ordinary baristas like me. Although I wasn’t just a barista. Then again, my “little fantasy stories”, as my sister called them, probably wouldn’t be that impressive to someone like Madison either.

  I created a heart out of foam, the design resting on the top of her cappuccino, then placed a lid over it, wondering if Madison had ever even noticed the foam hearts I left for her every day. Even if she had, she likely wouldn’t think anything of it. A lot of baristas made designs in coffee. I wasn’t that unique.

  I walked back to the counter to give Madison her coffee.

  “Here you go, Madison,” I said with a friendly smile. “Have a great day. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “You too,” she said automatically.

  I suppressed a sigh as she walked her shapely self out of the coffee shop. It wasn’t healthy for me to have such a huge crush on a woman who didn’t even know I was alive. Maybe I should join a dating app or something. That would help me get over this ridiculous crush. Several of my friends had met great women on a new dating site that was tailored to lesbians.

  I resolved to sign up as soon as I got my break.

  Madison

  I blew out a breath as I exited the coffee shop. Just like every day, that cute barista was working the counter. And just like every day, I felt like a bumbling fool around her. She was so adorable. So sweet. So young. Younger than me, that’s for sure.

  Her name was Camille – that much I could
tell from her name badge – but other than that I knew next to nothing about her. She was fresh-faced, maybe in her early twenties, with thick blonde hair that she wore in a messy bun, as if she was much too busy doing interesting things to have time to fuss with her hair.

  Camille was a few inches taller than me, but then again, most people were. She was slim with toned arms and a smile that lit up the coffee shop. And those big brown eyes of hers...my God, I could just lose myself in them. Every time our eyes met, everything else seemed to fall away.

  You’re being a pervert, I chided myself. You’re practically old enough to be her mother.

  Well, that was an exaggeration, but we definitely had an age gap that was likely too far to bridge. Besides, what would a hot young girl like that want with a quickly approaching middle age woman like me? Assuming she even dated women.

  She was friendly and flirty, but I shouldn’t take it for more than what it was. It was part of her job, I needed to remember that. Just like the foam heart she drew on my coffee every day. I wasn’t anything special to her.

  I tried to put Camille out of my mind as I entered the building that housed Phoenix Software. I was proud of what I’d accomplished. I’d worked damn hard to make it in the uber competitive and predominantly male world of software development. I had a job I loved. More money than I could ever spend. A great townhouse in Seattle’s fancy Belltown neighborhood. And a recently created foundation that was dedicated to addressing socioeconomic and educational inequities for women and girls.

  And yet, I was lonely. I had friends, good friends even, but something was missing. A partner. Someone to snuggle on the couch with at night and wake up with in the morning. It had been a long time since I’d dated anyone. Way too long.

  My best friend and employee Alice had been bugging me to try one of those matchmaking apps. There was one that was specifically for lesbians, and several people we knew had found love on the site. It felt pathetic to let an algorithm pick out a girlfriend for me, but then again, what was I going to do? Continue to obsess about the girl at the coffee shop?

  I decided to sign up before I lost my nerve. I had the first hour of the day blocked off for administrative work, so I opened the site on my laptop and created an account. A few minutes later I had to admit that I was impressed.

  No pictures were allowed on the site, just avatars you could create by inputting your physical characteristics. True compatibility isn’t physical, the site explained. We want you to get to know your potential match on basis of who you are, not how you look.

  I input the key elements like height, weight, hairstyle, eye color, and skin tone and when I was done I had to admit my avatar bore more than just a passing resemblance to me.

  Next was a lengthy questionnaire covering everything from what you wanted in a relationship, to how you dealt with conflict, to what your preferred leisure activities were. There were questions about physical attributes that you usually felt attracted to, as well as those you didn’t, and a checklist of sexual preferences. It also asked you to be honest about the things that might be deal breakers or annoy potential partners, like being messy or compulsive flirting. I answered each question as honestly as I could and breathed a sigh of relief when I finally pressed “send”.

  You don’t have to go out with anyone, I reminded myself. Let’s just see what happens.

  I must have said that part out loud, because I heard my best friend Alice call from the doorway, “See what happens about what?”

  As usual, she looked impeccable in her pencil skirt, silk blouse, and high heels. Alice had found a partner last year, her best friend’s little sister, Jewel. I’d been surprised that she was dating someone as young and carefree as Jewel, but I had to admit the relationship seemed to agree with Alice. My friend was happier and more relaxed than I’d seen her since we were in the MBA program together all those years ago.

  “I finally signed up for that dating app everyone’s talking about,” I told her.

  Alice clapped her hands together. “Yay! What made you finally decide to go through with it?”

  I sagged back in my chair. “I keep fantasizing about the girl who works in the coffee shop.”

  “Which one?” Alice asked curiously.

  “Camille.” At her blank look I added, “She’s about five seven, really toned arms, blonde hair she wears up in a messy bun.”

  “Oh yeah, she’s adorable. Looks young, but God knows I’m not one to talk when I’m robbing the cradle with Jewel.” Alice smiled as she thought of her younger girlfriend. “But then again, no one bats an eye when a guy dates someone ten or twenty years younger than him. You should ask her out.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not just her age. I mean, what would we even have in common? I’m sure she gets hit on all the time, and she’s flirting because it helps get tips.”

  “She flirts with you?” Alice asked.

  At my nod she added, “I’ve never seen her be anything but professional when I’ve been in there. I’ve never seen her flirt with anyone.”

  “You probably don’t notice people are flirting with you now that you have your own serious girlfriend,” I teased. “How is Jewel anyway?”

  “She’s doing well. Working on a big fundraiser for the food bank, a big gala at the museum.” Alice brightened. “You should bring Coffee Shop Girl!”

  I shook my head. “No. Just no. But maybe I’ll get a good match on the dating app, and I can bring them to the gala.”

  “Suit yourself,” Alice said, getting up to leave. “I’ll just say that this is the most interested I’ve seen you in a woman for a long time, which is definitely something you should think about Maddy. I’ve got to get to work, but I’ll see you at the staff meeting this afternoon.”

  As Alice left, my computer dinged. I looked down to see a notification that the app had already matched me with seven different women, including one who was a ninety-eight percent match to me. I smiled. Maybe this would work out after all.

  Camille

  As soon as I got off work I checked my email. I’d signed up for that lesbian matchmaking site while I was on my break, but I didn’t have enough time to see what kinds of matches would come up for me. I was dying to see if I’d matched with anyone.

  I opened the app and to my surprise I’d already matched with eleven women. That was promising. The match at the top was ninety-eight percent compatible – almost a perfect match. I reviewed her profile.

  She was a professional woman, ten years older than me, and liked hiking, watching movies, and visiting local breweries. So far so good. Like me she preferred to keep things neat but didn’t do as well as she hoped. I continued to scan the information, noting all the ways we were similar.

  I got down to the sexual preferences section and my eyes widened. She preferred to take a more submissive role in the bedroom and was interested in being tied up and light spanking, but nothing heavy. That lined up perfectly with my own preferences. I liked to be in control, but not in a “wear a collar and crawl behind me” way. I just liked to have a woman the tiniest bit at my mercy. I liked to order her around during sex and do a little power play. Not all the time, but it was definitely one of the things that got my motor running.

  I glanced at the avatar that was connected to the profile. The program was designed to match on compatibility factors without allowing people to judge solely on looks. The avatar kind of reminded me of Madison. Even her physical description seemed to match. I shook my head at my silliness. Clearly I couldn’t get Madison off my mind.

  Well, whoever this woman was, according to the app we were almost a perfect match. Before I could change my mind, I sent her a message.

  Hey there TechGirl87,

  I see that we’re almost a perfect match. My question is, what do we need to do to get to 100%? Since we’re both overachievers, I think we should definitely figure this out.

  I’ve never done one of these sites before, so apologies for any gaffes. I’m not sure how to start a conversation so I’ll just pretend that we met in a bar. First I’d offer to buy you a drink. If you ordered something frou-frou like a pina colada, I’d probably go to the bathroom and not come back. Kidding. Kind of.