The Billionaire Scoop_ A BWWM R - Mia Caldwell

THE BILLIONAIRE SCOOP A BWWM INTERRACIAL ROMANCE

MIA CALDWELL

Contents Mailing List Introduction Part 1 Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Part 2 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Epilogue About the Author Copyright

MAILING LIST

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INTRODUCTION

Gibson always wanted to M aribel be extraordinary. Having grown up in the Deep South, she not only dealt with racism, she triumphed over it.

No matter what came her way, she turned the situation around to her benefit. So when she moves to New York in pursuit of a journalism career, she thought her life could only get better. But as her main job opportunity slips through her fingers, she suddenly finds herself all alone and jobless in a big city, panicking. But then chance presents her with an unexpected boon: the scoop of a lifetime in the form of an unhappy billionaire. Regardless of how she feels about the man spilling his story, she knows it’s her shot to get in the big leagues, and she’s about to take it.

J

im Craig only wants normalcy. The son of a billionaire and forced into the family business, Jim longs to be just a regular guy. His whole life, his dad pressured him into more, more, more, and now, facing one of his worst fears—an arranged marriage of all things—he takes off before he can go through with it. He seeks refuge in a bar and runs into beautiful woman who tempts him to take a load off and spill everything. does he know, the beautiful L ittle stranger is a reporter, and they both

might get more than they bargained for once their secrets come to light!

he Billionaire Scoop is a T standalone BWWM interracial romance on the sweet side. No cliffhangers! Spinoffs coming soon.

PART I COLD FEET

PROLOGUE

J

im could barely keep his feet on the ground—literally. Every few seconds his feet lifted, his body rising a few inches above the Loeb Boathouse floor, and he had to silently

talk his tall, broad-shouldered, suited frame into staying put—his large hands locked behind him, his body facing the long aisle lined with a delicate white runner and colorful petals prepared for his bride. He scarcely felt the presence of over a hundred—perhaps several hundred— people sitting patiently while he waited quite impatiently for his soon-to-be-wife to appear. Then the Bridal March began, and the attendees turned toward the entrance. Jim’s body threatened to lift from the ground again, but he stubbornly kept his feet planted, concentrating on keeping everything together as the pivotal moment neared.

Suddenly, it seemed a light fog had crawled into the room, and it was when the bride appeared that Jim suddenly realized he was trapped in a lucid dream. He wondered at the positive feelings he’d experienced in anticipation of this moment—so unlike what he usually felt when thinking about his upcoming nuptials. As he remembered whose hand he was expected to take in marriage, he began to dread the moment the woman hidden under the veil reached him. Yet strangely, the anxiety that plagued him in his waking life refused to take over. Jim began to suspect that all was not

what it seemed when his eyes examined the veiled woman in the distance again —something about her did not feel familiar; she didn’t look at all like the girl he had promised to marry the next day. The woman now slowly walking toward him holding a bouquet dominated by peaches and cream in her gloved hands was pretty much completely covered, but even with all the lace and silk and flowers in the way of her features, he realized something was very wrong. His fiancée, Lucy, was petite, blond, and fair-skinned, and this woman, though also rather slim, seemed taller, and as far as he could tell, her hair was darker,

as was her skin. Only curiosity remained as Jim tried to figure out who was taking measured steps toward him, and once she arrived, he immediately gripped the bottom of her veil and threw it over her head, not caring for the impropriety; he had to see the bride. Shock pulsed through him as a beautiful, unfamiliar face greeted him— brown-skinned with warm brown eyes so unlike Lucy’s heavily-mascaraed, wide blue ones. Though his brain did not recognize the sunny woman, his heart seemed to, and he was once again flooded with emotions that made his body take on a weightless quality again, and he started

lifting from the ground once more. This time, the beautiful stranger lifted with him, her red-stained lips in a gorgeous, heart-melting smile. Jim no longer made an effort to keep his body grounded as they rose together. Jim felt himself grinning as he lay alone on his silken sheets, wishing he didn’t have to open his eyes once his blaring alarm filtered into his consciousness.

CHAPTER 1

JIM

“

T

his is for the greater good,” Jim mumbled to himself as he adjusted his tie for at least the twentieth time, avoiding looking into his own eyes as he assessed his reflection.

It felt like even his mirror image was judging him—firm jaw set in disapproval, eyes more olive than seacolored today. Jim had no doubt every part of his tux was perfect, customized for his tall, muscled frame, every thread and button exactly where it should be, but he couldn’t keep his hands from smoothing it here, tugging at it there. “Take it easy,” his best man Scott said, this time with a heavy hand on his shoulder. A few minutes earlier, his old friend had said soothingly, “Relax,” and a few minutes before that, in a fake chipper voice, he’d made the mistake of saying, “It’ll work out—it’s for the best.”

That statement had only worked to raise Jim’s blood pressure, and Scott realized his error quickly. How the hell was it best to marry someone he didn’t love? No matter how many times it had been rationalized to him by Scott and his own father, in particular, the thought of going down the aisle to tie himself to Lucy still unsettled him to the point that he was sure his stomach would give up its contents any minute now. While fiddling with his tie yet again, Jim took a few deep breaths at Scott’s latest gentle suggestion, finally looking himself in the eye. His reflection didn’t seem so judgmental now, only unsettled.

“I dreamt I was marrying someone else last night,” he said flatly. “What? Who?” Scott said, sounding almost personally offended. Jim shrugged. “The face is fuzzy now, but either way, I’ve never met her. Just something my brain made up. Anything but Lucy, I guess—even someone who doesn’t exist.” “Come on, Jim—Lucy’s hot!” Scott said. “At least, there’s that. It’s not like you’re marrying some troll or some old divorcée with baggage. You’re getting hooked up with a young, gorgeous blonde. What more could you possibly want?” Jim spun to stare at Scott, realizing

for the first time that his oldest friend didn’t know him that well at all. Scott seriously thought he wanted to be forced into a marriage with someone he didn’t care about in order to inherit an empire he wasn’t sure he wanted anything to do with? That he wanted the woman he was supposed to spend his life with to be anything like Lucy, of all people? Did Scott really think he didn’t mind getting trapped with a vapid, golddigging narcissist? Jim reigned in his emotions, realizing he probably looked poised to attack as he glared into Scott’s baffled face once he saw Scott raise his arms in a sort of defensive gesture while taking a step back.

Jim turned to the mirror again, letting out a particularly heavy breath to try to calm back down before he almost physically kicked Scott out of his dressing room. Scott might not know him as well as he’d hoped, but he knew his friend pretty well; he knew Scott’s sensitive, touchy side wouldn’t be able to handle the rebuke and he’d stand there sulking in front of everybody waiting out there— that is, if he even got over their spat soon enough to show up on time. Jim took another deep breath and brought his thoughts back to the woman he was supposed to marry. His sentiments had surprised him as he stood there glaring at Scott.

Where had they come from? He had never put into words what he really thought of Lucy before then— dating her had been just okay and he hadn’t had to do it much; he always had work to distract him. Besides, Scott was right—Lucy was a nice enough girl who was quite pretty and smiled a lot, and though she talked about a lot of silly shit girls usually talked about—fashion and trips and trends—she was young and rich, so she was doomed to be frivolous about a few things since everything had pretty much been handed to her; it wasn’t her fault she didn’t have to work for anything. She was exactly the kind of girl he was always meant to marry—a socialite,

an heiress. A woman used to the finer things in life and intent on maintaining or further improving her standard of living. A woman who kept herself made-up and beautiful to make sure she was paired with an equal or better—like him. The daughter of a multi-millionaire was a perfect match for the son of a billionaire. So what was he so concerned about? Like Scott said, it could’ve been far worse. “You need me to grab you another drink?” Scott offered. “You look like you could knock a few more back before you head out there.” This time, all tension evaporated as Jim tried and failed to hold back a laugh

at the thought of himself all crisp and formal stumbling out there after one too many drinks. The image appealed to him, and he was tempted to accept Scott’s offer— after all, there was a possibility his insobriety could force a postponement; they wouldn’t let him go through with the whole thing without all of his wits about him, would they? But he knew far better than that— they sure as hell would. Too many people were counting on him and Lucy sealing the deal. No way would his dad let anything stop this merger—Jim would only succeed in pissing off the man already so heavily disappointed in him, and who

knew what the fallout would be from that? “I’ll be fine,” he said to Scott gently, fiddling with his tie once more. Take one for the team, he reminded himself. “You sure?” Jim nodded then turned to his friend. “I have accepted my fate,” he said. “Now give me a few minutes to get my final thoughts together. I’ll see you out there.” “Final thoughts,” Scott repeated with air quotes and a goofy smile. “Jesus, man—you make it sound like a funeral.” Scott shook his head as he headed for the door, still grinning.

Jim watched the door close behind him. He still felt pretty bad about leaving the bachelor party Scott threw him a few days ago early, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. He doubted most of the guys noticed since they were free to enjoy the gyrations of shapely half-naked girls and complimentary alcohol. Jim checked his watch then stared into the mirror, knowing he would wait until the last possible minute before getting in place. He needed to spend his final moments blanking his mind, shifting into auto-pilot mode, imagining he was somewhere else…

The door creaked open again. “Jesus, Scott, I said give me a minute!” he bellowed. He turned toward the door, cursing himself for not locking it behind Scott, but instead of his best man, his sister Judy was peeking in, sharp dark eyes startled. “Shit, I’m sorry—come on in, sis. What’s up?” Guilt flooded him as he took in her familiar thin, dark-skinned frame. She had been so disappointed at being left out of the wedding party, but as usual, put on a good face about it. “Just checking on you. Scott had this weird look on his face and something twirled in my gut.”

Jim’s unease dissipated briefly as he grinned at her. “You mean the heart-shaped butterflies or…?” She slapped him on the arm before covering her mouth and glancing away, looking embarrassed. She had to know he knew about her crush on Scott, right? Her eyes practically got stuck on him every time she saw him. That’s probably what bugged her the most about not being in the wedding party—not having a chance to be escorted up the aisle by Scott. Scott probably hadn’t noticed the crush, and Jim was glad it looked like his sister wouldn’t make a move; Scott

didn’t deserve her. Sure, she was a grown woman now, but he still felt protective. He still remembered when she was first brought home—a tiny, dark brown baby with silky black curls being held by his pale, blond mother, her blue eyes shining with joy. He forgot when exactly he stopped telling people Judy was adopted, his defenses raising immediately every time he was asked. She was his sister, and how that came to be didn’t matter. Judy sobered up, wringing her elegant hands a little as she said, “It’s so weird, Jim—no one looks genuinely happy. Well, besides Lucy’s parents, of course.”

“Don’t feel bad for me, Judy. I chose to go ahead with it, remember? It’s the right thing to do.” Judy shrugged dismissively but held her tongue this time. It was obviously too late for advice. You think mom would be pleased with your decision? she had asked him once, and that one stung had most of all. Didn’t she get it? It didn’t matter; their mother no longer had a say in anything. No matter how many times Judy mentioned he had other options, he knew better. This was the only way.

J

im took a final breath. He had reached a state of blankness—as if his body had finally shifted to auto-pilot. No more horrific visions of a life with Lucy manipulating him into social functions he couldn’t care less about. No more regret for agreeing to go through with a sham of a marriage. No more sorrow at his love life being reduced to a merger. No more self-pity, selfloathing, self-flagellation. Duty called. He nodded at Scott as he closed the dressing room door behind him, and they headed for the lineup. It’s for the family. The good of the company. It’s the least I can do for the

man who made it so that I wanted for nothing. Maybe he and Lucy could grow into the marriage like his dad said. Ha! Fat chance. He took in the formally dressed crowd. Lucy had kept it small, according to her: a hundred people. Her dad happily let her do whatever she wanted, and Jim stayed out of it; he knew the wedding was mainly for the bride. He let her pick the venue, the entreés, the colors. He went with her idea of having just a best man and a maid of honor. The flowers, the centerpieces—all

up to her. She got to pick everything—even her ideal groom—and he had a choice in nothing. Why the heck had she picked an evening wedding, though? he’d wondered, because instead of getting it over with nice and early, he’d had all day to dread the ceremony. He should have put his foot down on that one aspect, but he had distanced himself so much from the idea of the whole thing, that he didn’t want to think about any single part of it. All he’d had to worry about was his tux. His eyes darted around the room as his mind raced and his heart pounded,

his body coming alive with horror once more. Oh god, was she going to try to get pregnant right away? To seal the deal with a kid? That was one thing he’d put his foot down on—he definitely wasn’t ready for a child. He’d delay by playing on her vanity —she wouldn’t want to lose her figure just yet. As Lucy appeared, a huge smile on her face and a diamond-studded crown on her golden head, her slim frame draped in silk, everything in Jim stilled. It was real. It was happening right now. She looked beautiful, no doubt, but

the bile finally rose from his stomach. He covered his mouth and took off for the nearest exit, barely making it out before the contents of his stomach came up. Then, before anyone could get their senses, he kept running, knowing there was no way in hell he was going back.

CHAPTER 2

M A RIBEL

“

course it’s going to work out— O feverything always works out for

you,” Annie said, her curly, red-brown hair a halo. Maribel studied her best friend’s

light brown face for signs of bitterness or jealousy, but found none. Annie had said the words matter-offactly, and though Maribel had always operated as if she believed those words herself, she had still been nervous about her big move to the city—New York City of all places, so different from everything she’d known—and her best friend’s words reassured her. Things would work out. Why wouldn’t they? She had prepared for this next step as much as she possibly could. “I’m gonna miss you, girl. You better visit,” Annie said, enveloping her in yet another soft hug. Maribel sighed.

“I just wish my parents weren’t so upset about it.” “Can you blame them? They already lost one daughter, now they’re about to lose the second. By tomorrow, both their chicks will have flown the coop.” “But they’re not losing me; no one is losing me!” “I think most people know that those who leave don’t come back for good reasons. Don’t feel bad—go out there and ’try your fortune,’ but you sure as hell better not forget about us. I don’t think your parents could take being left behind and forgotten by you too.” She shook her curly head. “I still can’t believe you guys haven’t heard from Mildred—it’s been four years!”

“I know. She’s the reason I’ll have to make sure to take a trip back here in a few months for Christmas. I don’t want my parents to think for a second they were right about both of us being too ashamed of them and not wanting anything more to do with them. They’re totally convinced wherever Milly is, she’s made up some origin story completely erasing them.” Maribel wondered how long it would take for her to forget her mother’s sad face the previous day. “We won’t see you again,” she’d said languidly. “Mom, why would you say that?” “Mildred never came back,” she replied, shrugging. “I won’t blame you if

you don’t. Honey, don’t feel bad—I’d want to get out of here at the first opportunity, too.” “You think I won’t return for the holidays, at least? Yeah, I’m planning to make a life out there, but that doesn’t mean forever excluding you!” “Listen, we love you, baby, and we only want what’s best for you. I know it’s better out there. We always knew you weren’t meant to stay down here with us.” The way she’d said, “down here” rubbed Maribel the wrong way. Somehow, she knew her mother didn’t just mean down south. It’s not that I think I’m better than you, she wanted to say, but what would

be the use arguing? Her parents had resigned themselves to their stations a long time ago. Some people were fine staying in certain places, certain positions. Not making waves, not trying to beat any system—just surviving. Maribel certainly wasn’t one of them. “Well, you know I’m always here for you,” Annie said, interrupting her thoughts. “You’ve always been like a sister to me. I love you, Marble.” Maribel had been prepared to return the sentiment, but she dissolved into giggles instead, Annie joining her. Over fifteen earlier, in a first grade exercise where each student in the class

had written their names on their crappy drawings, Annie had looked over at her stick figures and warped sun and trees and pronounced the name she saw written in pink crayon, “Marble.” Annie hadn’t used that nickname in a long time, and once Maribel caught her breath, tears gathered in her eyes as it sunk in she was truly leaving her best friend behind this time. It wasn’t like when she left for the University of Alabama when they were at least still in the same state and could arrange to see each other. This time, there would be over a thousand miles between them. “Look, someone’s gotta make it out of here. If not you, then who?” Annie

said as if reading her mind. “Stop feeling guilty.” Maribel smiled, and Annie enveloped her in a hug again.

“

T

hanks for dropping me off, dad.” “No problem, sweetie. You take care and call us if you can. You be careful out there.” He squeezed her hand, and when she saw one of his eyes failed to suppress a tear, she quickly turned away before she burst into tears herself, rushing to the trunk to get her bags. She had gathered herself by the time

she slammed the trunk back down and she stepped aside, waving at him. He waved back, and she watched the old car drive off. Maribel was glad to leave on a Sunday—the only day both her parents were off, so she could give proper farewells. Her mom had already started getting ready for church when she went to hug and kiss her goodbye, but she knew her mom would wait until her dad returned so that they could go to church together. Her dad never wanted to go, but as usual, he’d go just because she wanted him to. Watching the way her parents were with each other, somewhere deep, where

she didn’t usually allow herself to go, Maribel hoped to find what they had someday—a best friend and partner. But her parents had grown up in a different time, and as an ambitious, independent woman, Maribel couldn’t let herself get distracted by such thoughts, and certainly not by any handsome face. She had a five-year-plan, and getting thrown off by some guy wasn’t a part of it. She would build up her career, make a name for herself, and then, at some point, the right kind of guy would come along—someone who had all of the items on her checklist. Once she established herself, she’d

be able to navigate the dating world better, and, unlike some other girls, because she would have sorted herself out beforehand, she would be sure of her worth and not settle. She knew one thing—unlike her sister, she wouldn’t take off with some guy on some adventure. Why did the chicks always have to follow the guys anyway? When it didn’t work out, the guy always remained on his path, setting the stage for some other woman to reap all the rewards of the work the girl who kept him warm put in, and where did that other girl end up? Scrambling to put her life back together. Not Maribel; she had her shit

together. Her priorities were straight. She might have exaggerated a little about having a job in the bag officially, but she didn’t want to worry anyone over her decision to take a rare leap of faith and make the move to New York without a definite yes. The company had already done a telephone interview with her, and the enthusiasm she met with gave her enough juice to continue thinking things would work out as planned. She believed the job was pretty much a sure thing; she only needed to handle formalities in her final in-person interview. She would start small with this job, of course, then work her way up and do

real stories. As she’d told everyone, she’d become a reporter by any means necessary, and everyone believed her since everything she said she’d do so far, she’d done. But she was moving to a new city—a new state—with no familiar faces nearby and pretty much fresh out of college; no one knew how scared she was. She knew New York was competitive, but since her life had been rather charmed so far, she had no reason to think things wouldn’t work out, despite her slight fear.

“

just not what we’re Y ou’re looking for right now,“ the

brunette said dismissively with a cold half-smile as her blue eyes peered through her glasses. “We need someone with more qualifications. But thanks for coming!” Maribel did her best to keep her face neutral. How was it possible? What about the phone interview? What happened to all that enthusiasm? Now that she was here, no-go? They had been impressed by her resumé, but even more impressed when they spoke to her—so it seemed. They had been so excited about her! And she knew she looked the part—

all the time she had before the actual interview, Maribel made sure she had her look together—a crisp feminine but no-nonsense business look. She had her hair and nails done, made sure her makeup was light but flattering. Plus she was slim and pretty, and looking slim and pretty was always a bonus, wasn’t it? She got to the interview fifteen minutes early and everything, and she’d noticed a woman poke her head out and check her out. She thought she saw a light extinguish in her eyes, but she attributed it to the lighting of the room itself. She refused to believe it was

because she was black; that was only the deep south life messing with her mind. She fooled a lot of people over the phone, but no way in this place—this very diverse city—could her color still be an issue. Maribel wasn’t sure what to say. After just a few minutes in the actual interview, it was all over. Maribel plastered on a smile, then got up, thanked her interviewer and left, still in shock. What the hell was she supposed to do now? She had planned to treat herself to lunch somewhere, but with no job nailed down, she started to think she better get used to ramen noodles again until things

got sorted out. She returned to her small apartment, her head still spinning. She needed to regroup. It’s okay, you knew it was a possibility—a slim one, but still. That’s why there’s plan B. Maribel quickly followed up with a promising lead with an entertainment magazine.

“

an exclusive on Jim Craig G etandmemaybe we can work

something out,” the crisp redhead said with a slight smirk, her eyes having already dismissed Mari as they returned

to her computer screen. Light feminine laughter followed her statement as a curvy blonde strolled in and handed the redhead some papers, so it was obviously a long shot, but Maribel started to feel hopeful that something had been thrown out there. Anytime someone gave her a challenge, her desire to beat it usually meant that she did. Maribel turned to leave and found herself in step with the blonde— presumably the redhead’s assistant. “Jim Craig?” Maribel repeated questioningly. The blonde shook her head, a wry smile on her face. “Only the most eligible billionaire

bachelor in the tri-state area. Don’t get your hopes up, though—I heard rumors he’s getting married later tonight, so…” She shrugged, disappearing through a door on the left. So what her boss was actually saying was, don’t bother coming back. Maribel’s shoulders sagged. Over the past few days, she discovered lots of people were willing to take her on as an unpaid intern. But how was experience getting people’s coffee supposed to pay her rent? Already, she had an overpriced tiny apartment, and she couldn’t believe people happily paid so much for so little space.

She took a few breaths. She had been putting so much pressure on herself the past few days that she was starting to feel it in aches and pains all over her body. She was still confident she’d be able to find other opportunities, but for now, after that nerve-wracking flight from Alabama, the tension in her body over the days preceding her devastating interview, this move to a new, fastmoving place—she needed to allow herself time to regroup. Possibly go out somewhere and grab a drink. Get distracted by sights and sounds of other people’s lives. Who knew? Maybe she could pick

up on some story while out there—the quirk of an eyebrow or a clandestine glance alerting her to something she might be able to chew on and spin into gold. Nope! No work. Just take a load off. There’s still stuff to celebrate; after all, you made it! You took a leap. And now you’re here, ready to start the next chapter—whatever it brings. She returned to her apartment, freshened up, and changed. She decided she didn’t want to look too available; dodging bedroom propositions did not sound like a good night. Plus, she didn’t need a string of men hitting on her to feed her ego after being

rejected by her most promising job opportunity. She just needed to clear her head. Sure, it had been a while since she’d broken up with her one and only boyfriend, but she wasn’t the kind of girl who just shared her body with any guy who struck her fancy. How best to turn men off yet still look nice? she wondered, then laughed to herself. Unwashed-looking chicks wearing an actual paper bag would still get propositioned. She decided to stop overthinking it and threw on a pair of jeans that fit her curves snugly, and an off-the-shoulder aquamarine top—still fairly

conservative and a little sexy, exposing only her shoulders. She kept her face made up the same, pinning one side of her dark, relaxed waves back with a gold pin. When she assessed her final look, she knew she was asking for trouble— she managed to make herself look both innocent and naughty somehow. Maybe she was subconsciously going for a salve of flattery after all. Oh, well! Just go with it. Let’s see what happens.

had heard about this—a M aribel bunch of businessmen hanging

out at bars after some convention or other. There must have been one held nearby—the place seemed to be crawling with men in suits. Her friend Annie had told her about it—as a convention hostess, she had traveled all over the country to various trade shows, mostly staffed by men with a few “booth babes” like her. The “booth babes” always got invited to social events afterward, and married or not, everyone was pretty much down to fraternize. “Not me, though,” Annie told her. “I never slept with any of those guys. You never knew who would inadvertently turn you into ‘the other woman.’ Guys

sometimes take off their rings when traveling for the shows. Some don’t even bother and they’re still all, ’Want to go for a drink?’ Like, what? Not me. I’m not gonna be someone’s warm wet hole away from home.” “Annie!” “It’s true, though.” Maribel could only giggle. Despite her wild, curly hair, Annie generally looked demure, giving off the impression of being a lady, but anyone around her long enough got to hear her filthy mouth. Maribel almost changed her mind, suddenly intimidated by the sheer number of men. Come on, girl. Fortune favors the

bold. Be brave. Be strong. Courage and confidence were essential for what she wanted to do, so she might as well tackle it in every aspect of her life. There was no place to be a shrinking violet. She took a breath and charged up to the sliver of space at the bar, right next to a guy she’d been trying to keep her eyes off of. All the while she’d been giving herself her pep talk, her eyes took him in from his immaculately-styled dark hair to the expensive-looking suit hugging his broad shoulders and back. Or was it a tux? He certainly looked like he could be a castaway from a wedding party

instead of a convention attendee. Either way, he was damned sexy, and no matter how much Maribel tried to pretend she was going to ignore him and just have a drink, everything in her kept reaching for him. She might not have time for a man while sorting out her career, but she could have idle chats with them, couldn’t she? After all, it was practically a job requirement. She reminded herself she had no driving to worry about, so she could drink as much or little as she wanted. The man made space for her, and his striking green eyes briefly met hers, a slight casual smile on his chiseled face that seemed to freeze as he took her in.

She wondered at the swirl of emotions there. As put-together as the man looked on the outside, he seemed to be a wreck. “Lemon drop, please,“ she said to the bartender once she got his attention. She had noticed the handsome stranger was nursing something hard, neat. Probably Scotch. She was never really sure—she only got into ’girly drinks’ as Annie called them. “Rough night, huh?“ she found herself saying. His green eyes found hers again and he let out a little huff of air. “You said it. Although I feel a hell of a lot better now than an hour ago.” Maribel’s instincts pricked.

“What happened an hour ago?” she couldn’t help asking, trying to sound as casual as possible. He stared at her a long time before answering, and just when she thought she was actually going to melt from the heat of his green gaze, he said, “I almost married the wrong woman.” A number of sensations hit Maribel at once, but her mouth got ahead of her head, and before she started analyzing her own feelings, she said, “How on earth did that happen?” He knocked back the rest of his drink. “Long story,” he said, indicating another drink to the bartender. When one door closes, another

opens, her mother’s voice sang in her head. “I am here for it,” Maribel said, almost unaware when her own drink was placed in front of her. “Thanks,” the man said to the bartender on her behalf, embarrassing her a little since she never forgot her manners. But even then she couldn’t correct it—everything in her had zoned in on the gorgeous stranger; she needed to know what had gone down, even if just to hear how someone else’s day had ended up worse than hers. She felt terrible for him, of course, but she was practically salivating as she waited for the sordid details. She blamed her mother for whetting

her appetite for scandal—all those soaps she had on in the background throughout the day. The dirty details of relationships of the pretty and rich. Now she craved it—every hint of the unsavory perked her up. “Actually, now that I think of it, it’s not that long a story,” he said, happily accepting his next drink. Maribel smiled at him, blinking her eyes. “I’m waiting patiently,” she nudged. He gave her a warm smile, a smile that unexpectedly almost liquefied her insides, a smile that sent a raging sensation through her core. A battle began inside her.

CHAPTER 3

JIM

J

im was so lost in his thoughts, it took him a while to realize he was no longer alone in his bubble. He’d been slightly aware of the brief gazes of several women during his time

at the bar, but he figured he looked so unapproachable, that no one had the courage to get closer just yet. But suddenly his senses were assaulted by a heavenly scent, and the perfume of the woman who squeezed next to him made him turn toward the source of it. His heart skipped a beat as he took the lovely woman in, grateful for the distraction. He had been beating himself up—not regretting refusing to go through with the wedding, but dreading the domino effect of his actions, and chastising himself for the problems to come as a result of his abandonment. In his heart, he knew he made the

right decision, but his head wasn’t letting him go without a vicious fight. You’re gonna lose everything, a nasty little voice chided him. Your dad’s going to disown you. The company will take a hit all because of your selfishness. Everyone will hate you for wasting their time, their money... And then there the beautiful stranger was, smiling at him and inviting him to unload. The somewhat shy-looking brown beauty managed to immediately dissolve the last of his guilt by merely existing. Suddenly, his thoughts were no longer on the wedding or any of the attending parties; his brain-space was filled by the lovely young woman gazing

at him with warm brown eyes. He felt forgiven of everything in that moment, even if she had no idea what her openness absolved him of. Well, time to tell her—see if she’s still smiling then. “I was supposed to get married tonight but took off, leaving my intended bride at the altar.” He felt the woman tense up and couldn’t look at her as her face transformed, no doubt with shock. Possibly even horror. He took a swig of his drink, then shook his head, still avoiding her eyes. “It’s a girl’s worst nightmare, right? Getting jilted? The thing is, I’m not sure if she’ll be madder about the public

humiliation, or more hurt about losing me—although I doubt it’s the latter.” He could still see the woman out of the corner of his eyes, and her vanished smile made him regret his words; he couldn’t bear being thought of as a jerk by the first genuinely friendly face he’d registered all evening. “Okay, let me start over before you get too disgusted with me: the wedding sort of represented a merger—her family with mine; a symbolic thing between my family and hers in preparation for a move toward a conglomerate. Neither of us were particularly emotionally invested in the whole thing, but our union was a big deal to our parents. I thought I could do it—ignore the fact that

I had no real feelings for her for the sake of the company, the family, but…” He shook his head. “Triple C will have to do without my part in this case.” He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but she seemed to relax a bit, looking relieved. “Triple C?” she queried neutrally. “Craig & Craig Capital.” “Oh. Well, I’m sorry to hear it didn’t work out, but it sounds like you did the right thing for your peace of mind. Sure, it’s terribly embarrassing for her—I’d die if something like that happened to me —but I’m glad you got out of it while it was still relatively early. Things could have ended up a whole lot worse later.” He smiled at her, examining her face.

He found no sign of hidden judgment; she wasn’t just being polite. His smile grew. “Kind of you to say. What’s your name, beautiful stranger?” He could tell she blushed—it showed even against her brown skin and she could barely look at him properly anymore. It pleased him to see his effect on her. “I’m Maribel,” she said, keeping her eyes on her drink. “Yours?” “Jim,” he said, watching her more intently. He saw the moment it all clicked. Normally, he wouldn’t be so loose about who he was—especially to pretty

females who then seemed to see him as nothing but a potential ticket to some sort of payout—but he couldn’t help it. The liquor had loosened his tongue and Maribel’s warm demeanor made him want to connect with her and get more of what she was giving him—her attention, her approval. He could have given her a fake name, but part of him hoped that if she had a hint who he was, maybe she’d stay longer. He almost shook his head at himself. He’d wanted so badly to keep those lovely, open eyes of hers on him that he actually name-dropped for the first time in hopes of scoring more points and gaining her interest.

He almost regretted it immediately, though—how lame was that? Then again, one of the most eligible bachelors had just jilted a socialite— Maribel would have heard about him sooner or later, and he was glad to get his side out before the media smeared him. “Jim Craig,” she almost whispered. “Before two days ago, that name would have meant nothing but the name of a great-looking guy I met at some bar drowning his sorrows.” “Before two days ago?” he asked, trying to ignore the warmth rushing through him at her casual reference to him being good-looking. “I recently moved here from

Alabama,” she said. “Where I’m from, you’re not exactly known, sorry to say. Back there, if you’re not Brad Pitt…” She shrugged. He noticed her eyes had come alive even more than before, her atoms seemingly wild as her body pulsed and vibrated with new energy. Was it all she’d see him as now? Jim Craig—heir to a billion-dollar fortune? Had he screwed up letting her know? Would she turn into yet another golddigger after all? Somehow, the thought didn’t bother him as much this time. Beyond the nudge in his pants, he wanted to get to know more about this woman.

But damn it, before he had a chance to glimpse the real her, he ruined it in his excitement. “I probably should have stayed anon,” he said regretfully. “No, I appreciate you being upfront with me. I, um…” she hesitated, and he wondered what all was going through her mind. “What’s going to happen now that you’ve rejected the union?” she asked softly. He shrugged. “Dad will probably disown me. Even if he doesn’t go that far, he might just cut me off from this company. He’ll have to be careful about appearances—he built up such a focus on family. As for Lucy, I suppose she’ll

just move on to the next eligible billionaire.” “How did you guys meet?” He didn’t blame her now. How could she not be curious about every part of the story? He rarely opened up to anyone besides his sister and his best friend Scott, but here was a chance to unload on a stranger. What was the worst she could do? Even if she repeated anything to her own friends, gossip and speculation came with the territory, and as usual, it was just one person’s word against another. His family had money and power, and one of the best PR teams money

could buy. Anything that came out about them, true or not, positive or negative, could be spun in their favor. He turned fully toward the young beauty with the sparkling brown eyes and began to unload.

MARIBEL

Maribel couldn’t believe her luck; she had a career-making scoop right at her fingertips. She could barely contain her excitement—what a perfect story! It was as if Christmas had come early. What were the chances she’d end up

meeting one of the most eligible billionaires and that he’d be willing to tell her his tale? She could become a well-known name just like that. Oh, god—she was obligated to tell him her status, wasn’t she? He had no idea she was a journalist —shouldn’t she warn him? Of course not. What the hell are you thinking? He’d clam up for sure, she reminded herself. You’re not thinking like a reporter at all. Still, she felt obligated to give him a heads up. She wasn’t sure she would have had this conflict otherwise, but she felt a deep connection to him—an empathy that

wanted him to feel free to unload his pain—and she didn’t want to feel like she was lying to him. Either way, he had already started talking, so she held on to his every word. Every detail about his fiancée and her family and his own family she etched into her brain, wishing she could pull out a pen and take notes. But she was young and had a pretty good memory. By the time he was done, she knew she could easily have an article signed, sealed, and delivered by the next day. But as she gazed into the face of the unburdened man before her, she wasn’t sure she could do it.

Why not? an inner voice asked. Men like him had everything handed to them. He’s just some entitled corporate asshole. Maribel couldn’t disagree—she knew that no matter what happened, he’d be fine—upper-crust white men like him always were. No matter the scandal, communities were always willing to open their arms to them. She didn’t have the same kind of safety net. What good would it do to hold everything to herself and ignore the gigantic opportunity to launch her career and make a life for herself just to spare some privileged white boy’s feelings?

Men like him never considered or cared about hers. He could wipe away his crocodile tears with hundred-dollar bills. So what if his sorrow seemed real— who cared if he felt betrayed? You do, another voice said. She ignored the voice but it came again when Jim smiled at her, green eyes twinkling, and warmth filled her again. You care. She had a hard time focusing on what he said next and had to force herself to rely on her ears and her brain retaining the information instead of fumbling with her phone to try to discreetly start recording. If he noticed her pull out her phone,

he could interpret it as disinterest—an intrusion—and she could lose him. He’d probably apologize for disturbing her and turn away, maybe even find someone else to talk to. Nope—she was going to be the one to hear it all—she had to be. Stay focused, girl—remember every detail. “It won’t be long before someone tracks me here, and I still haven’t figured out where to go,” his voice filtered in. “Of course, I could just hop in a cab and drive around, I guess, till I figure it out…” “You could stay with me,” she blurted out. “I...excuse me?”

“You said you needed somewhere to hide out for a bit, and I happen to have a place where you can stay for a while.” She smiled wide—temptingly, she hoped. She could get so much more out of him if she got him alone for a few more hours, down to the tiniest detail. His brows furrowed though his face still looked pleasant. Amused, even. “But you don’t know me from Adam.” “There aren’t many people who are great at deception. Everything you’ve said to me rings true, and maybe I’m gullible, but I feel bad for you. Sure, I don’t really know you besides your name and who you are in a general

sense, but my gut also says you’re not a serial killer, so I don’t mind letting you in my home for a bit—you’re not done unloading and I’m happy to be your ear until you get it all out. I really don’t mind—it’ll be nice to have company.” Besides, I need time to let what you’ve told me so far sink in, discreetly take some notes, and prepare for the rest. She could get him to relax, get her recorder set up, and have all the information she needed to have the story that could launch her career. This was it—this was the thing that would set her up, possibly for life. Fate brought her to this moment, and just like everyone thought, her entry into

the journalism world would be easy as pie. Oh my god—I can’t wait to tell Annie about this. He was still frowning at her. “Man, you really are a newbie here. Maybe I should be worried about you, so willingly letting a man you don’t know into your home. Maybe I should be concerned for myself—what plans do you have for me, Miss…?” “Gibson.” He offered her his hand, and for the first time, Maribel had second thoughts about letting this very handsome, very sexy man into her home as warmth flooded her again and her core pulsed to life.

Her cheeks felt hot, and her small hand liked the feel of his larger one enclosing it a bit too much. What was she thinking? It was so unbecoming of a lady like her to take a stranger home. Um, it’s for the job, she reminded herself. Don’t get distracted. You’re the spider; you’re leading him to your web. But somehow, the thought did not make her feel at ease. She didn’t feel like the spider with all the power after all.

CHAPTER 4

JIM

J

im could hardly believe his luck. The woman he couldn’t keep his eyes off of, the woman who surprised him by sitting next to him and letting him unload on her, watching him

with sympathetic brown eyes—that woman who stirred him in ways he dared not explore at the moment was inviting him over to her apartment? To stay for a day, maybe two? What the heck was she thinking? Her accent gave her away long ago —she was obviously not from around here and hadn’t been here long; just a warm-hearted southern belle still way too trusting in the big city, street smarts not yet acquired. Sure, people went home with a stranger from a bar or club all the time all around the country, but Maribel clearly hadn’t been hunting for manmeat. And now, out of the goodness of her

heart, she was offering a perfect stranger temporary sanctuary. What do they call that? Southern hospitality? He was warmed by the thought and endeared to her even more, but part of him was a bit upset with her. How could she be so careless? Sure, it was working out in his favor, but what if he had been some sort of predator? Not so decent? Did decent men leave their fiancée at the altar? a nasty voice reminded him. Well, perhaps ‘decent’ wasn’t quite the right word, but only he knew that he wouldn’t harm her—she had no way of being sure of that and yet...

“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll take you up on the offer.” While he stayed with her, he would give her a quick lesson about the city; he’d repay her for her kindness with practical, possibly life-saving advice in exchange for her sympathetic ear and place of refuge. The poor girl had no idea what she was getting into. He felt protective of her; she was a sitting duck in New York. And he’d try as hard as he could to protect her from himself, to keep his hands off of her and not scare her by letting on the thoughts and urges he was fighting to suppress—the curiosity about how her lips would feel against his, how

her slim frame would feel pressed against his much larger one. He definitely didn’t want to take advantage of her, despite his carnal curiosity. Though he felt more than friendly toward her, he needed to continue to be decent and be a friend to her as she was being to him.

Maribel flipped on the light, he O nce took a good look around the unit. “Hm. Cozy,” he said, trying to keep his face neutral. He couldn’t believe people actually lived in places this size.

Maribel’s eyes shot to him and he could tell she was trying to read what he really meant. “I know it’s immensely smaller than you’re used to—smaller than what I’m even used to, but real estate here is...different. Anyway, it’s just me for now, and I don’t really need much more than this while I get settled. Hopefully, once I secure a job…” She shook her head almost violently—as if trying to shake out the next few words. “Drink?” she said with a smile, definitively changing the subject. He almost said no right away, but actually being in the small quiet space with the beautiful woman before him and her door closed behind him had

activated a beast he needed to do everything in his power to tame. A drink would help him relax before he started to frighten her with his restrained desire. “What have you got?” he asked lightly. She looked away briefly, looking embarrassed. “Well, I haven’t had time to really stock up just yet, but I’ve got some orange juice, champagne…” “Great! I feel weird about having champagne by itself since it seems so celebratory, and while I’m happy to have dodged a bullet tonight, I know a shitstorm’s around the corner, so let’s go with a mimosa.”

She smiled an especially radiant smile and something stirred within him again, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her as she turned to make his drink. As he watched her pour, her eyes shot to his briefly, and he realized the intensity of his gaze had probably unnerved her. He tore his eyes away and glanced around her apartment once more to help put her at ease. He didn’t want her to suddenly change her mind and try to kick him out because she’d finally realized the error of her ways inviting a strong male specimen into her tiny home. She’d already told him too much, she probably realized—she was all alone,

far from home, with not a single friend nearby. He’d be her friend; he’d assure her of it. She had nothing to worry about. “So what made you travel all the way from Alabama to the Big Apple?” “Oh, I had a job prospect I was pursuing that didn’t quite pan out, but I mainly felt ready to leave small-town life behind and see what else is out there in a general sort of way. I’ve always imagined living in a big city—since I was a little girl. Here’s your drink!” Why did it sound like she was cramming as many words as she could into one sentence? He took the mimosa and downed it in one gulp.

“Oh!” she said in surprise, reaching her hand out. “I can get you another.” He nodded and she refilled his glass. He noticed she didn’t make herself one. “So what kind of jobs are you looking into?” She seemed to be avoiding his eyes deliberately. Surely, he’d toned down the predatory gaze he’d undoubtedly frightened her with earlier? “I’m pretty open to a number of possibilities. Let me grab your bedding.” She disappeared, returning with a comforter and a pillow, looking apologetic. “I wasn’t expecting company, and I

haven’t yet built up a linen supply so it’s just these…” “You don’t need to keep apologizing for having just moved here and living within your means, Maribel. I’m very grateful you have taken me in for the night, and the couch and this bedding will do just fine. Seriously—you have already done more than I could have asked for.” She seemed to relax, smiling at him in a way that twisted him again. What was it about her that made him feel so warm and sort of tingly all at once? Like he would do anything to please her? She was irresistibly cute, no doubt, but that smile—it made him

feel…accomplished for having teased it out of her. How silly was that? Getting such joy from seeing her smile that way? How on earth could he be so invested in her happiness? Her opinion of him? How was it he suddenly felt like he had some schoolyard crush? He needed another drink. He indicated his empty glass. “Do you have anything stronger by any chance?” “What, vodka? Scotch? I’ll make sure to have those ready in case this happens again.” Jealousy and possessiveness suddenly raged through him.

The thought of her opening her home to another man like this... “I’ll have another glass of mimosa if you don’t mind.” “You mean another shot? The way you’ve been downing them…” He watched her make his third drink. “You shouldn’t just do this for people,” he said as she handed him the refill. It seemed she snickered a little, but he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t slurred or anything, had he? Then he remembered he hadn’t eaten after he’d thrown up earlier, and that he’d already been drinking when he met her at the bar.

“Letting strange men into your home —not smart.” “I’m aware. It’s just...like I said, I went with my gut and it said you’re all right.” “You’re lucky I am, but the city is a dangerous place for women like you.” Her brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t be so trusting,” he continued. “Promise me you won’t do this again.” This time, she definitely giggled. But this wasn’t funny! She was being nice to him, but in her naïveté, she had no idea the position she put herself in, and he meant to tell her all about how careless her kind actions were again and again till she understood,

but the alcohol was finally, mercifully, starting to kick in. “I promise,” she said solemnly, her eyes twinkling as she put a hand on her chest and held up two—or three— fingers. God damn, she was beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to pull her to him and take her in his arms, wrapping her in them and holding her close. He wanted to feel her soft curves against his hard planes, sniff her hair and take in her overall scent. She looked like she smelled like strawberries. He wanted to tilt her chin up, bring his lips to hers.

“We can talk more tomorrow if you’d like—if you’re still here, I mean,” she said suddenly. He realized she was getting ready to retreat to her bedroom—a room that was a mere five or so feet away from where he’d be sleeping. A room that he wanted to see the inside of more than anything else in the world right now, with her in it. On the bed. Stop it, Jim—get your mind out of the gutter. “What are your plans?” he asked. “What do you mean?” “Tomorrow, the next day…” “I have more interviews and prep to do. Maybe a little shopping for vodka…”

She smiled at him again, but he couldn’t bring himself to smile back. “You’re beautiful,” he said. Her smile wiped away clean, and he was sorry he’d spoken until he realized her eyes still held a spark—plus something else he couldn’t quite pin down but was definitely in his favor. Was it hope? Hope for what? “Good night, Jim Craig. You’re a bit tipsy, so I’ll let that slide.” “I mean it, though.” She shook her head a little. “Anyway, we’ve both had a long day and I look forward to hearing more about…whatever you want to tell me. Tomorrow. I’m afraid I accidentally put you out of commission enabling your

desire for more spirits. Do you want me to help tuck you in?” She had asked it almost mockingly so he knew she was kidding, but he’d be damned if he didn’t watch her try. “I’d love it,” he said, trying to suppress a grin. She looked startled. He shrugged. “Like you said, I’m tipsy, so I probably need help getting ready for bed.” She disappeared momentarily, and he thought she’d silently denied his request, but she returned with hangars, eyeing his tux. She gingerly stepped closer and closer to him, then moved to help him out of his jacket.

Her hands brushing his arms fed the flame inside of him, and he tried to concentrate on the textures in her floor tiles as her fingers slid over his limbs, burning trails through the cloth. His heart sped up as she slid the jacket off, and he worked on keeping his hands to himself as she arranged it onto the hangar. Then he started unbuttoning his white dress shirt. Her eyes widened as she turned back to him, worried gaze glued to his fingers as he loosened button after button. He couldn’t help but smile as she stood staring, her mouth hanging open slightly, her cheeks clearly flushed as his fingers moved lower and lower.

He certainly recognized that look. “I believe we’ve reached the end of that!” she said brightly, belying her panicked look. Her widened eyes darted to his. “I have nothing to offer you to sleep in, and I’m not about to watch you strip down to your undies, so I’m gonna head to my room now,” she said, thumbing backward. Jim laughed, happy for the brief moment of humor, for they had undoubtedly reached dangerous territory. The act of her helping him out of his jacket had made his cock fully erect, and with more blood leaving his brain to travel south, adding to the alcohol buzz, he definitely wasn’t thinking straight. He wasn’t thinking at all, really—

only fighting all the parts of him demanding that he do what he usually would, had this been any other woman. And had you not been engaged. That’s right, buddy—don’t forget that; you didn’t get married, but you’re still technically engaged. “Thanks for everything, Maribel. I’ll take it from here. See you in the morning.” She smiled a muted smile and he watched her quickly disappear into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. He chuckled. He didn’t blame her one bit. Sure, the door wouldn’t stop him had he been anything other than what she expected him to be and what he expected

of himself, but it was a clear message. If he acted on the feelings raging through him, he knew it wouldn’t take much to convince her to sleep with him, but no way was she ready for anything more than the friendship she was offering him, and no way was he going to violate her trust or take advantage of her vulnerability. Knowing she’d be putty in his hands somehow made it easier for him to do the right thing. Had he considered her a challenge, he might have been tempted to test her limits more, but it was clear she was sweet and genuine, and her needs were simple. Seduction could be as simple as moving one step closer to her.

She was in no way prepared for a guy like him; it would be like taking candy from a baby. He removed his slacks, and, down to his T-shirt and boxers, he settled on the couch, wrapping the comforter around him and trying to find a good position as his head settled into the pillow. Oh, god it smells like her, he thought as he sniffed the pillow hard, taking her scent in like some drug. His cock stirred again. Down, boy. It’s not like that. At least, wait until you’ve officially broken it off with Lucy. Deal? Deal.

CHAPTER 5

JIM

T

he sound of a blaring alarm filtered into Jim’s consciousness, and he opened one eye and looked around. It took him a moment to register his

surroundings, and waking up in a strange place might have sent him into panic before, but he had dreamed of the woman a few feet away from him all night, and the dream was still somewhat fresh. He was actually disappointed he hadn’t awakened in her bed—his dream had walked him there at some point, to his utmost pleasure. The alarm stopped yelping, and he stayed in place, listening to Maribel shuffle around, then tried to wrestle his brain from the gutter when he heard her enter the bathroom and start the shower. He failed miserably, imagining droplets of water on her nude, silky brown skin.

He tried hard not to imagine her completely in the buff—focusing only on an image of her lovely face turned up toward the shower spray, her eyes closed, her arms crossed over her chest. He congratulated himself for keeping his fantasy clean. He longed to join her and see for himself what she looked like naked, but settled for the vague fantasy. What’s wrong with you, Jim? She’s not some piece of meat! But Jim knew it wasn’t just a matter of sexual urges—the young woman had gotten under his skin somehow, made him curious about every part of her. He had blabbed on so long about himself the previous night, he didn’t get

a chance to know her at all. He knew her name and that she’d just moved here from the south—that was basically it. And that she was too trusting. Wait—he now also knew that she had simple tastes, judging by her apartment. What else? What was she hoping to accomplish here? What job did she miss out on? Did she have any brothers or sisters? When was the last time a man had shared her bed? Again, the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head as he thought of her with someone else and he fought to

contain it. Where did he get off feeling so possessive of this kindly woman? Why did he feel like...? He shook his head and sat up, hoping being upright would help him think straight. He hadn’t even figured out what his next course of action would be today. At the moment, left up to him, there was no way he was leaving Maribel Gibson’s apartment that day or even the next; in fact, maybe he could concoct a story that would encourage her to invite him to stay for a few days. He checked out the apartment again. It looked even smaller in the daytime.

He realized he was being selfish; no need to crowd the young woman’s tiny space just because he hadn’t had enough of her yet. Just one more day—then he’d risk going back to his penthouse and get out of her hair. By then, he would have figured out what to do about Lucy and his dad and the whole mess, and sort his life out from there. He’d send Maribel a bouquet of flowers for her hospitality and remind her to be more cautious in the greeting card accompanying it, then wish her well, leaving himself open to friendship with her. He chuckled to himself.

Who the hell was he kidding? One way or another, he’d keep looking in on her. And it wasn’t because he just wanted to be her friend. “I can set up the coffee,” Jim shouted once he heard the shower turn off. “That would be awesome,” she said once the bathroom door opened. He resisted trying to peek at her as she left the bathroom. She had probably taken all her clothes in there anyway, to make sure he didn’t catch her in a towel. He slipped on his slacks then headed to the kitchen and stared at her coffeemaker for a few moments. The thing was primitive as hell; he had forgotten how to use one like it.

Other people brought his coffee to him, and when they weren’t around, he had extra fancy machines do most of the work. But, of course, the simpler the machine, the easier to figure out, right? “It’s dummy-proof,” he said to himself as he filled the water. Just in time, he realized he had forgotten the filter. Who the hell uses this shit anymore? “You sure you’re okay in there?” her voice called out. “I’m nailing it!” he shouted back, almost knocking over the container of ground coffee. “This is going to taste like shit,” he

mumbled to himself, staring at the generic container. “I’m not drinking coffee-flavored sewage.” While the coffee percolated, he wondered what he should do next. Would she even let him stay in her home while she was gone? No way was she that trusting. But what else was he supposed to do? People would be looking for him in all his usual places, the press had, no doubt, been alerted… “Hey,” Maribel said with a smile, wearing just a bathrobe. No makeup yet and she still looked beautiful. “How did you sleep?”

“Fair enough,” he said honestly. “In peace, at least. It’s been great having some space from…everyone, really.” “What do you think’s gonna happen?” she asked. He shrugged. “No clue. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet, and I’m still not ready to talk to anyone.” “Well, definitely feel free to stay here, but I’m taking off for a few hours as I run around and try to get someone to hire me.” “Listen, I might be able to help you get started with something if you’d just tell me what kind of job you’re looking for.” “Oh, I don’t take handouts.”

“This is pretty much how the world works, luv—it’s who you know that gets you in more likely than what you know. I’m not exactly in good standing right now with my dad and perhaps his cohorts, but I’ve got my own contacts, my own thing going. I can help you out.” “And then what would I owe you in return?” she asked, her gaze direct and full of meaning. “Nothing,” he said gently. “I’m not expecting any kind of...repayment. Consider it me returning a favor—you have given me a place of refuge when I need it most.” “You don’t owe me anything,” she said, looking a bit perturbed. “I wanted to help you.”

“See? Same here. Besides, it kills me to think of you running around out there as...trusting as you are. I feel like I need to tuck you in somewhere safe—for your own good.” “Excuse you? I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” “I’m not saying you’re not, it’s just that it disturbs me how easily you invited me over. Listen, I’ve lived here a long time, and I’m just giving you a little city boy advice: trust no one. How are you getting around, anyway?” “Subway—like everyone else.” “I’m serious, Maribel—keep your eyes open, hold your belongings tight, be wary of people bumping into you, position your valuables where they can’t

be grabbed or pick-pocketed, don’t hold anything for anyone—no matter how pitiful they look…” “Wait, what do you mean?” “Like if someone says, ‘can you hold this box/chain/whatever’ for me, the answer is always no. Otherwise, don’t be surprised if they try to make a scene and say you stole it or otherwise make you pay for it. And for god’s sake, for future reference, avoid traveling at night alone. Maribel—and I mean this quite affectionately—you just look like a victim.” He grinned at her tightened expression. “I knew you’d get mad, but I’m being honest—you look out-of-place, no matter

how much you think you’re blending in. You’re clearly a visitor, a tourist, and therefore, you look like an easy target. Please don’t be insulted—I’m just giving you a quick rundown because if you’re going to survive out here, you need to develop some survival techniques. Street smarts. You’re not skilled in martial arts, by chance, are you?” She let out quick laughter as she shook her head. Relief washed over him that she was no longer on the defense. “Look, I’m sorry if it seems like I’m coming down hard on you, but it’s from a place of genuine concern. You seem sweet, you’ve been kind to me; therefore, I like you, and I’d hate for you

to get hurt in any way. I’m just doing what I can to help you out since you won’t let me place you in an office somewhere.” She giggled. “Please don’t make light, Maribel.” Her smile looked less mocking, but her eyes still sparkled as she said, “You can call me Mari.” Warmth gathered in his chest. “That sounds about right,” he said quietly.

J

im felt like the wind had gotten knocked out of him once Mari reappeared all ready to go.

She had disappeared into her bedroom after grabbing a cup of coffee and reemerged looking all made-up and professional, and he wanted so badly to pull her to him. It felt so right to be there with her, so natural to wake up and see her, share morning coffee with her, watch her prepare for the day. As she got ready to leave, she cheerfully reminded him of food delivery places she’d taken note of, leaving all sorts of numbers behind, and, as she headed for the door, he reached for her, halting her steps and spinning her around to face him as he brought them closer. Before he knew it, his lips had found

hers. She melted into his embrace and let him kiss her for all of two seconds before she pulled away violently. Shame flooded him. “Christ, I’m so sorry, Mari—I don’t know what got into me. It just felt so natural…” She took a step back, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He knew she was as affected as he was, but her face was riddled with indecision. She looked struck—confused and aroused all at once. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” she said before disappearing through the front door.

CHAPTER 6

M A RIBEL

the hell was that? W hat Mari almost walked into someone as she exited her apartment, concentrating on trying to slow her heart rate back down, but it was no use.

She knew how Jim felt all right—the kiss felt so natural it took her a few seconds to realize it wasn’t supposed to be happening; he was betrothed, after all. What had gotten into her? It was already one thing to let a strange man into her home—quite another for things to go any further with him while he was still technically attached to someone else. She was not that kind of woman; no one was going to call her a homewrecker. Did it matter that Jim was so obviously unhappy and unlikely to go through with the marriage? That he wasn’t exactly in love?

She sighed. Of course it mattered; a commitment was a commitment. Sure, it looked like he was about to back all the way out of that deal, but she had to keep her head on straight for more reasons than one. No matter what Jim said, the circumstances still stood—for now, he belonged to someone else. So why did it feel so right to have him in her home? Clearly, he felt it too—his brain and body got confused by the circumstances, and naturally, after spending the night in a woman’s place, he had done what he probably always does when he wakes up —kiss her goodbye.

Jealousy burned through her at the thought. They hadn’t even done anything! And it was likely they never would. Her heart clenched a little at the thought of him saying goodbye later that day or the next, and the very real possibility she’d never see him again— especially after what she had planned. She wanted more—more of what his lips left on her. And despite her words, all she’d wanted was to watch him strip last night. She was trying to be bold, helping him out of his jacket, but that step toward him and the nearness to his tall, broad frame and his intoxicating cologne was too much.

She had never had a one-night stand before; in fact, her last time was eons ago—her second year in college. Jim made her want to do far more than what she considered decent, and they had no sort of relationship at all! She didn’t get involved with anyone she wasn’t in a committed relationship with! But she couldn’t tell her body that. Heat pooled at her core whenever she was with him, and she had to fight herself not to help him take his shirt off and more last night. She was tempted to strip her own clothes off right there and then! Where had the impulse come from? Um…obviously he’s hot. You saw

those forest eyes, that chiseled face… Jim was right—she was crazy to bring a strange man into her home—a man oozing sensuality and sexual prowess. A powerfully built man with a broad chest, muscular arms, sea-green eyes, and a panty-melting smile. How long did he plan to stay in her place again? And how the hell was she supposed to keep resisting him when she could barely keep her mind out of the gutter around him? Simple—just say ‘hey,’ then sort out the food situation, tell him you have to study or whatever, and then disappear into your room as fast as possible. Well, maybe not right away, since you need

more info from him, but as soon as the atmosphere shifts—like maybe around nine… She shook her head again. If he was still there when she got back. What was she thinking, leaving him there in her home? She hid everything that could give away her intended career before leaving, but what if he was extra snoopy? What if he used his millions to do some research on her and found out what she was up to? She knew it was unlikely, but to her surprise, the thought of returning home and finding him gone scared her more than anything.

She was nowhere near ready to let him go, and not just because she hadn’t gotten more out of him for her story just yet. Jim Craig was certainly a dangerous man—his kiss had not only made her feel inappropriate, it made her feel like dropping the scoop immediately. She started growing angry at herself. You haven’t even gotten the D, and you’re thinking about sparing him? Why was she still having any sort of moral conflict about him? He wasn’t worthy of her consideration. She let out a breath, feeling the weight of that lie. She had been with him long enough to sense he wasn’t just some selfish

prick. The mere fact that he had fled from an arranged marriage spoke volumes. But shouldn’t that turn you off? Any day before yesterday she would have judged a man hard for taking off like that, but the look in his eyes, the way he couldn’t just fall into line with his father’s expectations, that he wanted his marriage to mean something beyond a merger, that he longed to find the proper woman… Her heart fluttered. She reminded herself not to get caught up. Despite the kiss he’d given her, he wasn’t exactly in a position to think clearly himself.

He had way too much going on right now to know what he really wanted. All he seemed to be sure of at this point was what he didn’t want: Lucy— the poor girl he left behind.

didn’t believe the M ari receptionist—the person she’d dropped by to see most likely did not actually just leave for lunch. It was a flimsy excuse—one she wasn’t surprised to hear considering she had popped by unexpectedly, but she was still proud of herself for trying. She knew her chances of forcing a meeting between her and an HR person

were extremely slim, but she was hoping to catch the eye of someone in charge on at least one of her many visits. Maybe someone important would glimpse her and want to know more; her mom had always told her that presenting a case in person is usually most powerful. “It’s harder for someone to say no while looking at you,” her mom used to say, “And you, in particular, have a distinct advantage. People always respond to pretty.” “I’m not that pretty, mom.” “Pretty enough, baby.” Sure, she’d continue to keep mailing resumes, but she would keep trying to arrange a meeting in person,

unannounced. At least, now she was just going through the motions pleading her case, knowing she had a hell of a trump card to play. Once she got her info together for her article on Jim Craig, she imagined several places clamoring for her exclusive. As she left the building, she dialed up Annie, hoping to catch her at a good time. Her best friend usually took her lunch breaks around this time, and if she wasn’t too busy, Mari could finally spill some of the beans from the past twelve hours or so—she felt like she was about to burst.

So much had happened in so little time. Just as she’d hoped, Annie answered. “What’s up, big-shot? How was the first day at work? I just know you nailed that interview and they asked you to start immediately!” “I thought I did too, but it didn’t work out. But you know what mama says —when one door closes, one opens, and an opportunity of a lifetime walked right into me last night. Or I walked up to it. Or…” “Well, do tell!” Mari quickly filled her in, leaving out a few details. “Dang! When I said it’ll all fall into

your lap, I didn’t think it would almost be literal! So let me get this straight— some billionaire jilts his bride and you gave him your apartment to hide out in, your shoulder to cry on, and you’re going to use everything he shares with you to write an article.” “Yup! Can you believe it? I thought I just knew how things were going to go, what job was right for me, the path I’d take. I had stuff all planned out, and life went ahead presented something far better than I could have come up with myself. It’s not the way I imagined it would happen, but it’s a helluva lot better!” “Nuh-uh, girl.” Mari thought she’d heard things for a

moment. “Excuse me?” “You’re not gonna use that man to start your career.” Mari felt taken aback. “I don’t see the problem here. He’s a high-profile figure, this is a major scandal, it has so many sexy elements to it—the rich, the pretty, the petty…” “Yeah, but have you told him you’re a reporter? Does he know everything he says can and will be used against him?” “This isn’t a court of law—it’s entertainment, and anything goes. The guy is filthy rich and I can almost guarantee he’ll be none the worse for wear. He’ll be just fine in the end—we both will. Dang, I thought you’d be more

supportive!” “I’m supportive of your career choices, sure. It’s your life, not mine. I’m supportive of your love life choices, long as it’s not some douche who’s likely to hurt you. I am not supportive of outright deception. You’re telling me your betrayal won’t hurt him?” “You do understand the world of reporting, right? This is part and parcel…” “Shit, are you recording this right now? Are you planning to do some story on old best friends left behind and how quickly things change or something?” “Wait, what? I would never do that!” “I don’t know about that now, Mari —looks to me like if a story calls for it,

all previous morals go out the window. I give up my right to expect confidence from you…” “It’s different with you—you’re my best friend!” “So I thought! But I don’t know how to be best friends with someone I can no longer trust.” Mari couldn’t believe it. “I really don’t understand why you’re being so hard on me—there’s a clear difference here, and that man is not my friend. He is a stranger. A very rich stranger. No matter what happens, he’ll be fine in life. He’s got cushions galore, Annie—he’s got the trifecta of privilege. Why the hell should I give some silverspoon any consideration? You know if

the tables had been turned, he’d throw me under the bus in a jiffy.” Annie’s voice seemed to soften. “Look, I get what you’re saying, but as a person, that man is vulnerable and trusting you with a part of his life at a time when he’s having trouble talking to anyone else. You don’t think that deserves some respect?” “I must respect a man who left his fiancée at the altar?” Annie whistled. “Dang, touché! Okay, Mari, do what you have to do, but let the record show I discourage betraying the guy. Get all the info you need, but please think twice about sharing it; think about what this could do to him beyond making part of

his life public entertainment. From what you’ve told me about him, all I hear is a person going through it, and one of the worst things that can happen while going through it is having some flashlight shined on it for everyone and their shitty opinions to impose themselves on. “You remember Raquel—that poor girl couldn’t handle everyone suddenly knowing about her freaky side and having that sex tape get out. Sure, she wasn’t as protected as this guy; she didn’t have people to shield her from it one way or another, but some people can’t take the added burden of public judgment and venom. Stuff like this tends to bring the worst out in people. Let me put it this way—how would exposing his

deepest secrets help him? Who would it be helping but yourself? What would Erin Brockovich do?” Mari burst into a giggle. “Laugh, but isn’t that what you told me? Isn’t that the kind of stuff you want to do? Expose corruption and neglect and whatnot? Wasn’t your goal to help people? Inform the public about important things? Since when is betraying a rich guy’s confidence in his most vulnerable of times important? Besides, I hear a little more in your voice than excitement over a story. This whole thing could be far greater than just some exclusive, Mari; you like him, and maybe he likes you. It might not be the right time, but betraying him like you

plan to do is sure to mess up whatever potential you guys might have.” Mari let her best friend’s words sink in. Then she said, “You really think I have a chance with a guy like him? Spare me. He’s destined for someone more like his equal.” “Well, like you recently said your damned self, destiny has other plans than what makes the most sense to us at the time and sees possibilities far beyond our puny calculated choices. And didn’t he run from his supposed equal? Be careful, Mari; the story and access to it might be a once in a lifetime opportunity, but isn’t the guy himself?” Mari shook her head though she

knew Annie couldn’t see her. “I have to go—I’m headed to drop off some more resumés.” “Glad to hear it. And if things work out between you and the billionaire, you won’t have to worry about that anymore!” Mari chuckled and decided not to fight Annie on her fanciful notions anymore. She knew the most she could hope for at the moment was a chance to address the sexual tension between her and the unhappy tycoon, and they could maybe get a night or two of carnal satisfaction—after he was officially available again, of course. Guys like him didn’t use girls like

her for more than a few nights, she was sure of it. And in this case, she didn’t mind being used for a night or two at all— especially since, despite Annie’s concerns, she knew she had to go through with the story.

PART II SECOND THOUGHTS

CHAPTER 7

JIM

J

im stared at his phone. He’d turned it off at some point, avoiding both attempts to contact him and attempts to track him down via the phone’s GPS; he wouldn’t put it past

his dad to get someone to try to pin down his general location through the phone—especially as a father unaware of what had happened to his son. Not to mention the businessman who’d lost control of one of his employees. Twenty missed calls, it informed him after booting up. He imagined at least half of those calls were from Lucy. Five were probably from his dad, and the others a mix of his sister and Scott; not many people had his personal number. He realized his voice mailbox was full. He didn’t even want to bother guessing who had taken up the most space there, and he certainly didn’t care

to acknowledge the number of texts he’d received. He let out a deep breath. He couldn’t hide forever. It surprised him to discover that, although Lucy had called many times, she didn’t leave a single voice mail; most of the messages were from his dad. “Son, I know it’s a bit much to take in. We’re pausing the ceremony while you come to your senses. Take a breath. See you in a few minutes.” Jim felt sick as the image of a hundred people waiting for him to return formed. What he’d done, far beyond ditching Lucy at the altar, started to sink in. He had not only embarrassed Lucy

and her parents tremendously but his own father. He imagined his dad confidently informing the crowd that he’d return, smiling wide as he assured everyone the show would go on. Shit. Jim would have to come up with one heck of a face-saving story. Blood raced in his temples as he selected the next message. “Son, where are you? Give me an ETA. Or something.” Jim groaned. He knew exactly what his dad meant by that something—a damned good excuse. A made-up medical ailment, most likely—something everyone could

immediately understand. A ruptured appendix. An aneurism. He felt light-headed then immediately lost consciousness and was hospitalized overnight? Oh, poor thing! Well, we’ll certainly try to be there for the ceremony once he’s well again! Jim knew his dad didn’t necessarily mean for him to call right then, but his father was right—he needed a proper excuse for his departure, and it sure as hell couldn’t be that he just didn’t want to go through with the wedding; that wasn’t an option. While he half-listened to the next few messages, he tried to come up with an acceptable reason to give his father.

Lucy was another matter, but he’d deal with that later. His dad’s messages got even angrier, his voice getting lower, the messages shorter and more threatening until a final “Call me immediately!” with no concern in the raised voice, only barelyrestrained rage. But his dad was too smart a man to actually threaten him in a voice mail, something that would be recorded, kept, and possibly replayed for other ears. His anger at his son would be understandable to anyone else who might have heard it, but a man as careful as his dad left little room for error. Jim shook his head as he processed his dad’s messages.

How did he do it? How did his father manage to just take over the reins from the last Craig patriarch and ease into the business so easily? Not once did Jim detect his dad might be happy elsewhere—somehow, what his great-grandfather had founded decades and decades ago stayed in the hands of each successive Craig generation, and each man accepted everything without complaint. So what was his problem? It wasn’t that he wasn’t good at what he did—he’d been inducted so early, his tendencies hadn’t mattered. Now, here he was, vice president and a shoe-in for CEO once his dad stepped down one way or another, and

he wanted to throw a tantrum about it like some brat. His father had made sure life was very comfortable and easy for him. Marrying Lucy and taking over the family business someday was truly the least he could do. He remembered the disappointment on Maribel’s face when she spoke of the job opportunity she thought she had in the bag disintegrating before her eyes. Jim never had to bounce around searching for a job, and now, what he took for granted daily loomed before him in the face of Maribel’s desperate job search. He’d wanted to just hand her a job like his father had done for him, and

even though she clearly needed to get started sooner than later, she’d refused him. Why? “No handouts,” she’d said. No obligations, she’d implied as if he would expect some sort of indecent favor in return. But also, underneath it all, she apparently had no interest in the jobs he’d offered her; she wanted to pursue a particular position he couldn’t provide. She’d been sort of vague about her pursuits, but she clearly had something specific in mind. No one moved to New York for just anything. He’d press her more about it later. He stared at his phone again,

dreading having to check his emails soon too. All he knew was that he couldn’t call his dad back just yet. He flipped through his text messages and discovered that, surprisingly, only his sister and best friend had texted him. Scott hadn’t called at all, but Judy had, and she eventually left the one message that wasn’t his dad. “You need to touch base,” was all she’d said. He dialed her up. “That was a total dick move,” she greeted him. Jim grinned, even as he put his hand on his forehead in shame. Judy always had a way of being

forthright. Her bluntness tended to surprise some people at first, but they ultimately appreciated it. It was a rare occasion where she held her tongue to spare feelings. “I know, Judy. I just…” “Brother, you know I’ll support you in any case, but Lucy deserves an explanation. A phone call. A certified, notarized letter. Something. You can’t just…” “I know, I know—I’ll call her right now. Well, after we’re done here.” Jim took a deep breath. “How’s dad?” “Mad as hell,” Judy said. “Like, I was a little worried, considering what you looked like earlier, and your

discomfort with the whole thing didn’t escape dad, obviously. He knows your heart wasn’t exactly in it; in fact...well, I won’t repeat what he said.” “Go ahead; I think I need to hear it.” “He’s not sure how he managed to raise such a yellow-bellied son.” “Raise? Is that what he calls leaving care completely up to mom and nannies? Christ, the only way I could see him was when I joined the company.” “This isn’t about any of that right now. You embarrassed everyone and you must address this whole thing sooner than later. The longer you wait, the worse it gets.” Jim rubbed his forehead. “I know—I’ll sort out apologies to

the group at large. As for dad and Lucy, I’ll get to them after we hang up. I just wanted to talk to someone who wouldn’t rage at me first.” “Where the heck have you been, Jim? I was really starting to get worried myself.” “I found a place to hide out. I won’t say where over the phone, obviously. Just know I don’t plan to stay here forever. I’ll sort everything out between today and tomorrow.” “Are you still going to go through with it? That’s pretty much the only thing dad will accept, I think.” “I’ll figure it out. If dad or Lucy had gotten hold of me sometime last night, I might have, and if things didn’t happen

the way they did in the hours afterward. Now, I know I can’t go through with it, no matter what the threats.” “What the hell are you talking about?” He bit his tongue, taking a moment to consider. Should he tell Judy? He trusted her, no doubt, and despite her bluntness, she knew how to keep a secret, but he didn’t want any possible judgment with it; after all, how on earth could he explain to her he could no longer be bullied into marrying Lucy because he’d met someone he would much rather tie himself to less than two hours after his scheduled nuptials? How crazy and selfish would that sound?

Judy wouldn’t take his interest in some other woman so quickly seriously, and she would no doubt decide it was just another thing representing his desire to escape his commitment; a way for him to slither out of the deal. How on earth could he impress upon her that he was serious about this new girl? Did he even know for sure he wasn’t clinging to the idea of Maribel in a desperate attempt to escape Lucy? Best to keep his mouth shut for now until things were clearer to him. He chose his words carefully. “I mean, if dad had found me after I ran out, I might have been persuaded to go back inside and follow through. But getting away from everyone overnight

and having time and space to really think about what it all means…I’ve reached the point where it’s pretty damned clear that there’s no way in hell I can marry Lucy. I’ll come up with whatever excuse he wants to hear, but having so narrowly escaped certain unhappiness, this one thing is clear.” He heard Judy let out a breath. “I don’t know how you’re going to get out of this unscathed, but whatever you decide, whatever you need, I’m here, brother. You know that. I will help you escape if you need to, and I won’t get in trouble for it.” Jim chuckled. “Thanks, sis.” She was right—perhaps it was

because she was a girl, perhaps for other reasons, but their dad was always harder on him. Then again, even though not at all related by blood, Judy was far more like his father than he was. She was smart, practical, and a natural fit in the company as its CFO. Who would have thought adopted Judy would end up being his parents’ dream child? Jim considered who to call next. He still hadn’t come up with what to say to his father, and even though it was the same case with Lucy, he knew he needed to get to her first. Lucy picked up on the second ring. “Hello?” she said as if she hadn’t

read his name on her call screen, and it could be anyone on the other line— although she obviously didn’t fear a kidnapper with a ransom message, the way she faked indifference. “Lucy,” he began quietly, his voice heavy, and that was all it took for her dam to burst, it seemed. He had to hold the phone away from his ear as she yelled at him, asking what the hell he was thinking, where the hell he was, and how he could do that to her, among other choice words. He brought the phone back to his ear once she screamed, “Answer me!” “Lucy, I’m so sorry. I know an apology doesn’t even begin to...listen, let’s arrange to meet up. I would much

rather talk in person; we have a lot to discuss.” “Ya think? Fine. You know where, 6 p.m.” Jim checked his watch. He had plenty of time to figure out a change of clothes in addition to sorting out his thoughts. Hopefully, everything would be clearer once the meeting time arrived, but for now, he was certain of one thing: he wanted Maribel to come with him.

CHAPTER 8

M A RIBEL

“

out of your blue-blooded Y ou’re mind,” Mari said once Jim was

done updating her. An amused quirk appeared on his handsome face, the tension previously

tightening it disappearing. She was glad she hadn’t offended him with her words and felt emboldened to continue. “Is that how things work in the world of the rich? You show up for a private meeting with your fiancée with…” “Ex-fiancée…” “Not yet officially. Anyway, you show up to meet the girl you were supposed to marry yesterday with another woman and…no big deal? Seriously?” “She’s not into me like that—it’ll be fine.” “I don’t believe you. Whether she was into you more than you think remains to be seen. Whether she’ll be

bothered by another person present for such a personal thing—let alone another woman—there’s no question about it. This isn’t going to go well. You’ll hurt her more, Jim.” Why the hell was she yapping her way out of this again? What if she managed to convince him she was right? She would lose the opportunity to get more info! What Jim was proposing had made it even clearer that her best friend had been totally wrong about dropping the story—the path Mari should take was undoubtedly ordained: not only was she getting the inside scoop on Jim’s side of the tale, but direct access to his jilted

betrothed. It just kept getting better. “She’s not a jealous girl! She was only going along with this to increase her potential net worth.” “So you’re saying you guys were planning to have an open marriage? She does whoever, you do whoever…” “Well, not exactly like that—I mean, it’s still a marriage. I don’t want a wife who sleeps around, nor do I want to sleep around. Even if it’s just a business deal, she’d be my wife, and I wouldn’t accept having another man’s hands on her.” Mari didn’t even try to hide rolling her eyes. Typical.

“Which means I can’t ask that of her without being faithful myself.” This time, she tried to hide looking impressed. “In any case, a moot point since I cannot marry that woman; I can’t imagine being with her another day much less…well, you know.” Then he looked at her, a subtle change coming over his face, but she couldn’t pinpoint what he might have been thinking. She let out a dramatic breath. “I’ll go with you, either way, but I think you need to be prepared to do even more explaining than you already have to do; you can’t just have me there for no reason other than your moral support.

I’m a woman, and I’m telling you, no matter what kind of deal you guys had, pride is always at stake. Showing up with a girl she might consider…” What, competition? What a laugh. Guys like him didn’t marry all the way down. This Lucy girl—she was probably very pretty, very rich, and very white. In no other circumstance would Mari be competition, since Lucy obviously had access to lots of powerful people who could influence things in her favor when it came to just about anything. As she caught a glimpse of a softened look in Jim’s eyes, Mari was reminded of one distinct momentary advantage: Jim was here with her, where

he apparently wanted to be. No matter Lucy’s advantages, he plainly wanted nothing more to do with her. But Mari was no fool—money most certainly could buy that sort of influence as well. What if Lucy talked sense into him? Reminded him that it was in both their best interest to let their powers combine? Money was the motivating factor for the marriage in some way anyway, wasn’t it? The rich getting richer? “Listen, I feel terrible about this whole thing, and I’m not convinced I won’t get swayed into doing the exact same thing—talked into going through it, this time out of massive guilt, then most

definitely leaving her at the altar again. I know she’ll try to convince me to go through with it, but with you there, it’ll help keep me strong.” “She might take things the wrong way, Jim. No matter what, a woman doesn’t like to feel replaced quickly; in fact, tell me more about her and about this deal; I need to be prepared too.” Not only for more context she could work into her story, but to meet the woman the man who made her stomach flutter almost married.

T

he recording device caught all of it.

Every detail of the intended merge, every side story about friends and family. Lucy wasn’t just some girl—she was the daughter of Jim’s dad’s best friend, so more than business relationships were at stake. The two men wanted to form a conglomerate and wanted to keep it all in the family. “Why did you change your mind about this all of a sudden? The wedding was in the planning stage for almost a year!” “It became apparent to me that much better options were out there; I didn’t have to settle. Lucy makes sense on paper, but there are other

considerations.” His voice softened and he glanced at her, almost seeming a bit shy. “You know I didn’t really think there was anyone out there for me; I didn’t believe the hype about finding ‘the one’ and all that junk. It was almost like believing in Santa. Sure, I’ve met people who seem to fit each other more than others and manage to be totally into each other, but I never believed there was one person on the planet for someone— there’s only this person at this time. I figured that lovey-dovey feeling could be manufactured if needed.” “You’re telling me you’ve never been in love?” “Not quite. In lust for sure.

Infatuated, absolutely. That whole true love thing…nonsense, I was sure. Especially seeing things be so one-sided between my parents. Anyway, as the weeks winded down, I started to feel unsettled, like I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life. And not just because things might not work out between Lucy and me, and despite whatever ironclad prenup my dad came up with, she could end up with a chunk of my fortune. “I realized I didn’t care if she ended up with a heap of my money; I kept feeling like she wasn’t right for me, and I had never been bothered by that thought before. She had always been good enough for me, and that’s the type of

relationship I witness most—good enough. Sufficient. Tolerable. I started feeling like I wanted more without being able to put into words what it was I wanted. And then…” he glanced at her again, “...and then the night before the wedding, I had a dream. I was getting married, and my bride walked up the aisle, and once I lifted the veil, it sure as hell wasn’t Lucy.” Mari’s eyebrows raised. “Who was it?” “It was no one I knew or ever met, so the face is no longer all that clear. But the message was. I don’t really put too much stock into signs, but there was no doubt I was doing the wrong thing— someone else was out there for me and I

was doing myself and her a great disservice by just going along with someone else’s plan. It’s still my life; I still have the final say in it, and it’s about time I put my foot down about some things. “I know I don’t want what my father has served up to me on a silver platter, and I feel guilty about it, but part of the problem with everything has been that I don’t know what I want instead. With no other options to consider, the current offer looks good enough as is. Anyway, I still haven’t exactly figured everything out, but I’m definitely breaking things off with Lucy. For good.” Mari started feeling a bit guilty. She was violating this man in so

many ways—his privacy, his trust. Stop it—it’s necessary for your line of work. Don’t let Annie get in your head! Integrity keeps a lot of people constantly struggling. Exhibit A: your parents. Right now, you’re not dealing with someone who knows what integrity means. How do you think people like him get so rich? “So how will you explain my presence?” “I’ll say you’re there on behalf of the company—with PR or something.” “You better make that clear to her immediately. Anyway, I’m not saying a word while we’re there since it’s not my place in any way to speak—I’ll just be there for you.”

He squeezed her hand and warmth flooded her at his touch, flushing her cheeks. She wanted to maintain contact, his large masculine hand on hers, but he pulled away. She tried to hide her disappointment at the broken grip. “Help me find the right things to say,” he said suddenly. “Excuse me?” “You’re a woman—what kind of mines should I avoid here?” Mari let herself laugh. “Okay, first of all, all women aren’t the same and you know that, because otherwise, you would have just married Lucy. So you need to tell me more about

her—about this particular woman—and I’ll see what I can do. Although to me, she’s a different breed altogether.” “Okay, well, here’s the rundown: she’s materialistic, rather shallow, the daughter of a multimillionaire who never had to work for anything. Educated—has a business degree. Planning to get her MBA and find some place in her dad’s company or mine. Or not—maybe she’ll decide being a socialite is a job. I know she got her business degree because her dad insisted, but she’s got him wrapped around her finger, so if she said she wanted to run a bakery, no questions asked, I’m sure—even if it never turned a profit. Then again, less is always expected of women.”

Mari quirked her eyebrow. She almost argued with him on that point, but ceded it instead; after all, he was right. If a woman married well, nothing more was required of her, except maybe producing a kid or two. A man was always expected to be the provider, no matter how many women’s lib movements and shouts for equality. Most women Mari knew were perfectly happy to let a man ‘be a man.’ The whole point is to have the choice, her mom had told her once. “Okay, based on what you’ve told me, it sounds like she’d be happy with a very expensive parting gift and some lip service about how you realized you don’t deserve her just yet—that you need

more time to grow into the man she deserves as a husband.” She detected a slight curl of lips as he said, “but that would imply I’d get back to her someday. I do not want to send that message.” “I’m still thinking.” She was quiet a moment. “Somehow, you’ve got to stress that it’s you, not her—without actually saying that, of course; it’s the most cliché thing in the world, despite its truth. Maybe make it clear you don’t want to get married at all, whether true or not; after all, she just needs something for now— something she can tell her friends. If you meet the right girl someday and change your mind, it won’t matter anymore. By

that time, Lucy would have moved on, and maybe it’ll sting a little, maybe not, but time heals all wounds. She just needs to be able to save face at this time.” “Okay, so something like this: ‘There’s a better way to do this. The merger, I mean. The symbolic and legal joining between our families. I don’t want to be in your way…’” “Yes! That’s it—focus on her. Make it all about her and her needs; that’s brilliant, Jim.” “‘…I realize how hard you’ve worked on creating the perfect fairytale wedding and it’s only fair you marry your prince. We both know I’m not him, and I feel like a frog getting in the way.” “Wait, is she really that kind of girl?

You said she doesn’t care about any of that stuff—just money.” “I was just trying to find an angle; I can’t exactly say she should hold out for someone richer. I guess it’s possible, but not likely she’ll find a better, easier match than me. I stand to inherit...a lot. Definitely enough for her needs. I’m the right age, decent-looking, and I’m already practically family. It really couldn’t get easier for her, and she likes easy.” “Well, is there someone else you’ve caught her making eyes at? Someone she might be interested in that she’ll be relieved you’re freeing her up to be with?” Jim shook his head.

“Other than what I’ve said, all I’ve got is this: ‘I think it’s better we stay friends in that general sort of sense. It’s in the best interest of both of our happiness that we keep our lives separate. Anything that happens between us could affect our fathers and their relationship. Not doing what they want now could be problematic, but not as problematic as things not working out later. Best to nip that in the bud.’” “I guess that’s as good as it’s gonna get for now. Hopefully, once we’re there, you’ll get inspired.” She smiled at him, and the way he smiled back made her heart leap unexpectedly once more, and again, she did her best to ignore it.

CHAPTER 9

M A RIBEL

was even prettier than she’d L ucy imagined, and Maribel’s cheeks burned a little with jealousy. Lucy’s wide blue eyes studied her too, examining her from head to torso.

“Who is this?” the blonde said with a false smile and casual tone as she sat down. She rested her purse on the table, then, after a quick glance at Maribel, apparently thought better of it and moved the bag out of sight, dropping it next to her feet on the opposite side of Maribel, as if making sure she couldn’t reach it. Maribel recognized the behavior and fought not to roll her eyes. To some degree, she didn’t blame Lucy for being wary of a stranger, but she knew that wasn’t all there was to it —not by a mile. She had learned that no matter how she was dressed, how obviously normal and unthreatening, distrust was buried so

deep in some people, they’d never see her as a regular person worthy of the benefit of the doubt. But even before the typical behavior, the appraisal Lucy had initially given her as she took in her features sent a clear message in woman-speak—Lucy was threatened by her beyond pretending she might be some petty criminal at heart. This was not going to go well. “Jim, this is awkward enough without…” “She’s with the company,” Jim said. “She’s just here to report back to my dad.” Maribel fought to keep a straight face. She hadn’t even known Jim that long,

but he was a terrible liar. If Lucy didn’t see through his fib, she really hadn’t bothered to know him well at all. After a final once-over, Lucy turned her complete attention to Jim. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me?” “I don’t know the extent of it, no; I figure it’s quite deep and there’s no way I can possibly make it up to you. But I want to begin with my sincerest apologies, Lucy; I’m truly sorry for what I did to you.” His voice sounded genuine, and Maribel believed him, but Lucy let out a dry chuckle. “Not a bad beginning, I suppose. But

you do know there’s an easy way to make it up to me, don’t you? Look, we’ll say you found yourself suddenly ill so the wedding’s been postponed, but as long as things end up as planned…” She smiled, reaching for his hand. Jim’s hand quickly disappeared from the table, successfully avoiding any physical contact with hers. Maribel tried not to look at either of them in the aftermath, but she still caught the look of raw hurt on Lucy’s face at the not-so-subtle rejection. If Maribel was uncomfortable before, she wanted to hide under the table now; she definitely felt like an intruder at the moment. Lucy fixed her gaze on her, and

Maribel felt it burning through her as she kept her eyes averted. “I’m sorry, what did you say she does again?” Lucy said in a different voice—casual, but in a higher pitch. “I don’t remember seeing her around before. Is she new?” “Well, you can’t possibly know all of the company’s faces. Like I said, she’s helping me sort things out. She’s a company advisor. And a friend.” Maribel briefly closed her eyes, ignoring the softened tone Jim’s voice took on when he said the word ’friend’ because James Daniel Craig had just stepped onto mine number one. Unfortunately, one mine was usually all it took to blow everything to pieces.

“Friend? Really? When did this happen?” Lucy demanded, her voice climbing. “Lucy, calm down—it’s definitely not like that.” “Of course not! I know there’s no way you’d want her over me, and I figure a girl like her is low-hanging fruit for a night if you’re not ready to settle down and that’s fine, but how dare you bring some side whore along when you come to see me?” “Whoa! I told you it’s not like that— now you apologize to her.” Lucy laughed maniacally. “I must apologize now? Me? You think I can’t see with my own two eyes something’s going on between you two? God, I can’t

believe you thought you could get away with this. You want to go slumming before we get hitched, fine, but don’t rub my face in it!” She turned to Maribel, daggers in her eyes. “Listen, you gold-digging cunt, you might get him for a night but that’s it. You’re not getting your grubby hands on his money—there’s no way I’d let you; what’s his is mine. We belong together and…” Jim suddenly stood, cutting Lucy’s intended rant short as he surprised them both with the quick movement. “If it wasn’t already crystal clear, Lucy, it sure as hell couldn’t be clearer now.”

The tone he used made Mari think it was what a dog’s warning growl would sound like in English. “Tell your dad and friends whatever you have to, but I’m not getting back with you. Ever. I’m sure my dad will reimburse yours for the ridiculous wedding expenses somehow. In the meantime, you will not bring Maribel into this; you won’t dare to drag her character into the mud, do you hear me? Or so help me, you will regret it.” Lucy looked absolutely stunned. Jim extended his hand to Maribel and she took it as she stood while Jim glared at Lucy. Suddenly, fire raged in Lucy’s eyes once more.

“You’re actually threatening me?” She laughed again. “That’s rich. A little jungle fever has you feeling like your balls have dropped, has it? What the hell could you do to me? Not a goddamned thing.” She stood, collecting her purse as she prepared to leave as well. “Either way, now I don’t feel so bad about sleeping with your dad last night,” she said. “It was nice being with a man who knows what he wants; less talk, more action. And the man sure can fuck.” She turned on her heel and stormed off, wavy blond hair swishing with her quick steps. Maribel could tell Jim had tried not to look unaffected, but she had noticed

his mouth drop open almost imperceptibly. Clearly, he was shocked by the revelation. She rubbed his arm soothingly and was about to say, “she only said that to hurt you,” but deep in her gut, she knew Lucy’s parting words were most likely true. All of a sudden, she knew there was no way she’d use any of the information she had been privy to over the past twenty-four hours. Maribel started to feel sick as she saw the scope of the story she was giving up. She felt even sicker after imagining Jim’s face if he found out she had planned to betray him—the hurt, the

anger, the disgust. How much power did he have, really? Could he then go on to destroy her? But she knew it wasn’t the threat of possible repercussions from the man himself that bothered her most—it was the thought of hurting him after she had seen him at his most vulnerable and he had poured his soul out to her, illogically trusting her. After all the talks he gave her about being more careful and not trusting anyone, for her to turn out to be the least trustworthy of all—it would be a kick in the gut, no doubt. What was wrong with her? Was she cut out for the career she’d

chosen after all? The first opportunity she gets to report on something big, her heart gets in the way? She feels too sorry for the subject? But she knew actually caring about a thing always made the biggest difference. Now, instead of watching Jim get torn apart in the media, she had the pleasure of witnessing him build himself into something stronger. He was slowly figuring out his life and letting her see him at his most unsure moments while he fortified. She’d love to see more of it. Maybe she needed to rethink that office position he offered her; she’d get

to keep seeing him. Plus, the job could hold her over until she encountered a better opportunity. What’s your deal? You’re willing to take some desk job now? No. No way should she hand over her power like that; she was perfectly capable of sorting out her own situation and getting what she wanted. She didn’t come all the way to New York to settle. She knew what she wanted to do, and she was going to do it somehow. Even if she started out all wrong and gave up a scoop that could make her career. Maribel also realized she needed to tell Jim why she really moved to New

York immediately; it was probably better to come clean now that she was no longer doing the story on him.

J

im didn’t let her hand go. As they walked away from the meeting spot, Jim held her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. It felt natural to her too, which was why she regretted having to remind him to drop it; Lucy could be somewhere watching. “You think I care?” “But you told her it wasn’t like this, remember?”

“Well, she already made up her mind about it, but I’ll respect your space.” He dropped her hand and she felt as if her heart had also fallen a bit. “It’s not that, it’s just that it’s…” “Too soon, I know. But don’t deny there’s something between us. Lucy saw it within seconds, I’m sure. I felt it the moment I looked at you, and it has only grown stronger.” Maribel gazed up at him. “But I don’t want to be anyone’s rebound,” she said, searching his emerald eyes. Jim’s eyebrows raised a little. “You were there—there’s no therethere, remember? Lucy and I were never serious. I left her; therefore, no

rebound.” “But you were bothered by her sleeping with your dad—I saw it on your face.” “Not really by the action per se. Sure, I’m disappointed and a bit disturbed my father would sleep with someone he had planned to turn into my wife, but I’m not surprised Lucy did it all; in fact, I’m shocked she didn’t throw herself at my best man! That is, if my sister hasn’t firmly staked her claim yet.” “So you guys were going to have an unofficial open marriage then.” He shook his head. “As crazy as it might sound, I figured we had an understanding that we were

both free agents until we officially tied the knot. So no, even if she had one last hurrah at some bachelorette party the night before, it wouldn’t have bothered me, but anytime after, and we’d have to have a talk.” This time, Maribel shook her head. “Is it always so little talking with you guys? What’s with all the assumptions? I thought you business types got everything in writing, made sure everything was spelled out clearly. You did a lot of hoping and wishing, and had a lot of one-sided understandings, it seemed.” “And it stops today. Let me be clear with you, Maribel Gibson—I like you a lot. More than I should after only about a

day with you. It feels so much longer, actually.” “Gee, thanks.” “But in a wonderful way. We haven’t even been intimate—and I think that might have something to do with it; we’ve done far more talking than I’m used to. But even so, I’m already growing attached to parts of you—like that smile of yours. Those searching dark eyes. It was a strange sort of torture waiting for you to come back home today. I suppose it could be that I’m so used to having my time occupied by work and you’ve been distracting me from this whole wedding thing wonderfully, but I know it’s more than that. I want to keep seeing you, Maribel;

I want things to be more serious between us. I already miss your hand in mine.” Maribel’s face burned, but she offered him her hand again since she missed the physical contact with him too. She knew she was probably getting played—how could a great-looking, filthy-rich guy like him not have his game down and be the ultimate player? How could he not know which words to say to get her to want to say yes to any of his requests? “Would you mind if I came home with you again?” he asked softly, but with distinct undertones. “I don’t mean to impose, but I’d like to spend one more night away from the noise. And

obviously, I’m nowhere near ready to let go of you just yet.” Maribel’s heart pounded. She heard so much more than he’d actually said. Her experience may have been limited, but she knew what he really meant—consummation. At that moment, he wasn’t talking about getting to know her favorite color or food; the heat between them had to be put addressed one way or another. Well, perhaps just one way. They both had a ton of tension to release, and she couldn’t think of a better way to do it. She put on the most southern accent she could muster, “Why, James Daniel

Craig, I am not that kind of girl!” she said, hand on her chest. His slow, wicked smile told her it didn’t matter what kind of girl he was— that he knew she wanted the same thing he did, and she’d be that girl tonight.

CHAPTER 10

JIM

T

he door had barely closed behind them before Jim started tearing at Mari’s clothes. He’d been tortured by the promised beneath them since he first laid eyes on

her, and now he couldn’t get them off fast enough, the process complicated a bit by their locked lips, tongues furiously exploring as they devoured one another. He had no doubt he’d ruined her blouse as he tossed it aside. Then he started working on her bra. Once he pulled back to look at her as he tossed that aside, he noticed Mari had a sort of fearful look on her face as their lips finally parted, as if unsure of what she had to offer. But his eyes couldn’t get enough of her exposed torso, her small breasts perfect for his mouth. “Beautiful,” he assured her, and she began shedding her bottoms while he took one swell in his mouth then the

other, flickering his tongue over her dark hardened nipples. Her gasps and moans were driving him insane, and he was sure his cock would burst through his pants at any moment, making an obscene entrance. He quickly shed his own clothes, then he picked her up in his arms, locking lips with her again, both his heart and shaft lifted. He walked them to her bedroom, laying her down gently on the tiny bed, then covering her with his body, positioning himself to take her while he nibbled her neck and she wriggled deliciously. Then he remembered one little detail and cursed, his throbbing member

begging for entry. Mari reached over to the nightstand and produced a condom from the top drawer, and despite all the questions he suddenly had, he was grateful she was prepared. She took the moment to say, “Please be gentle—it’s been years.” Jim froze, unable to hide his shock though her confession made his cock grow even more. He needed to make sure she was ready for him despite his dick’s demands, so he buried his face between her legs, licking and sucking her core until she was literally begging him to enter her. He was only too happy to oblige.

J

im smiled when he realized where he was. The thinnest sheets he’d ever lain on, and yet, the most comfortable bed he’d been in a while, the best sleep he’d had in ages with the soft, warm body cuddled up next to him. One of his dreams had come true. When Mari opened her eyes and smiled at him, his chest came alive in a way that concerned him, his heart pounding and seeming to pump endorphins rather than blood through him. He felt compelled to grab her to him and kiss her forehead.

Mari’s nearness soothed him, and being able to hold her to him made him happier than he’d ever felt. As small as her apartment was, there was no other place he’d rather be. He felt free around her; possibilities seemed endless. It felt as if the two of them could do anything. He brushed his finger against her cheek. How could he be growing so attached so quickly? Was it because she’d caught him at a particularly vulnerable time? She didn’t really plan to kick him out sometime later today, did she? He’d make sure she didn’t have time

to think about it. “I’ll make coffee,” she mumbled against his chest, and she started pulling away. He reluctantly let her go. He kept his eyes on her, planning to take in every inch of her bare skin, but she skillfully grabbed the top sheet off the bed as she got up and shielded her nude body from him. “Oh, now you’re shy?” he teased, disappointed at being thwarted, but delighted at her modesty. He watched her until she was out of sight, then buried his face in her pillow, breathing in deep as if it would help him keep part of her with him if she kicked him out after all.

Even if she decided she’d gotten all she wanted from him and was tired of harboring a stranger, he knew he wouldn’t let her get away so easily. He’d pull out all the stops, use all the advantages he had to woo her to stay with him longer. He heard her moving around the kitchen and waited. Then he heard her enter the bathroom. He took the sound of the shower turning on as his cue. Damn her modesty—he was going to see all of her, dripping wet in broad daylight.

“

have anymore meetings D oandyouinterviews today?” he asked

as she finished getting ready. He really wanted to ask how it was that she hadn’t had sex in years, yet had a condom at the ready. “Um...not really. I pretty much dropped off all I had yesterday since I was pretty sure about that one job. Anyway, without you here, I suppose I would be researching more opportunities, getting ready for another drop-off day tomorrow.” “I see. Well, I know it’s important to you, and I don’t want to belittle your efforts or desires by making another job offer—although the offer still stands, by the way—but would you mind taking the

day completely off? I’d like to take you on a proper date, and I suppose we can start with breakfast…” He rubbed his chin, thinking about the possibilities. “No, no—I’m making breakfast, buddy. You have not lived until you’ve had one of my omelets.” “Is that right? Well, what makes yours so special?” “Oh, I’m definitely not telling you! Next thing you know, my secret recipe is being capitalized on, my intellectual property stolen…” He raised his hands. “You’ve got me —I’m definitely always looking for opportunities to take advantage of other people’s ideas, abilities, and whatnot.”

He paused. “You’ve got my job all wrong, you know.” She just looked at him, as if uncomprehending. “You’d be surprised how unexciting a lot of it is; I mean, we’re talking about finances here—investments, consulting. Okay, so it has its cutthroat moments, but it’s not exactly what I’ve always dreamed of doing. I’ve been trained to take over for years, so it’s pretty much by rote by now; therefore, I don’t feel unprepared to take the reins from my dad someday at all, it’s just—I’m not sure I want to.” She turned fully to him, pausing her vegetable chopping. “What is it you want to do?”

He shrugged. “For so long, there wasn’t even space to consider anything else. My skills seem to line up adequately enough for this world. I just...I think I want to be involved with people more.” “Aren’t you quite involved? Financial consultants are all up in your business, aren’t they?” “Yeah, but not like that; everything’s so cold and impersonal.” “You’re strange. Most people would rather be in the position you’re in, you know—everything lined up easy peasy after graduation. Immediate job security, an unquestionable inheritance.” She shrugged. “Guess it’s like everything else; people want what they don’t have.

Some with straight hair want curly hair and vice versa, some with excessive boobs would rather itty bitty titties and vice versa…” Jim laughed, watching her throw various things into the egg mix. “Don’t misunderstand me—I do get the privilege in this case. It’s just that I never had a chance to explore other options, that’s all.” She pulled out cheese and started grating it. “I’ll be honest—sounds to me like you just want a break and after that break, you’ll probably end up where you are now. I mean, you didn’t shout pilot or engineer or anything—you have no other passion or interest; you just hate to

feel forced by your dad. You hate that he thinks he knows what’s best for you and it seems he didn’t allow other considerations, but ultimately, you’re probably where you belong.” He shrugged. “Maybe you’re right.” “Either way, it seems like you have some questions you want answered— issues that can be resolved in solitude and quiet reflection or on a crazy detour. You’ve been safe so long, maybe you need some adventure. Some change. Nothing wrong with that. Go ahead— take a leave and backpack through Europe to your heart’s content.” He grinned at her. “Only if you come with me.” She smiled, averting her eyes.

“I don’t have the luxury of taking off that kind of time…” “Obviously, I have the means to support you. Money is no object.” “Yes, but what you don’t get is that if we were to hypothetically take off for a while, when you get back, you always have a place. I return with a gap in my resumé that hirers do not look favorably upon. I cannot operate off of the assumption that things will be fine and dandy between us; I have no safety net. “Say we return and you decide you’ve had your fill of me—I am left at a severe disadvantage. It’s hard enough as a woman, and certainly as a black woman. So as lovely as vacationing for shiggles sounds, please don’t ask me to

take some reckless leap of faith that it might take far too long to recover from. You can afford to do such a thing whenever you want. I can’t. Besides, I am perfectly happy with my chosen path.” “Ah, yes—what is it you want to do again? What have all of your interviews had in common? What’s this particular field you’re trying to get into, Mari, that I can’t offer you a place in? You’re clearly not pursuing some artistic field, and obviously not admin work because I’ve offered that. What is your dream?” She stayed silent, avoiding his eyes as she started cooking the omelets. “You really don’t strike me as someone who’d travel all the way here

without a proper plan, Maribel Gibson.” “That’s fairly accurate. I decided to move here after I had a positive response to putting my feelers out. I was pretty much a shoe-in for this particular job…” “Doing what?” “Copyediting.” “You came all this way to be a copy editor.” “You must understand—copyediting here is different from copyediting in Alabama.” “I don’t believe that’s all there is to it; it’s okay if you moved here just because it’s far more exciting. I understand wanting to break away from where you were. It’s just that I was sure

there was more…” “Sure there is—I want to find a way to help people. And I don’t mean anything super hands-on like physical therapy or nursing or something. Something less intimate. Listen, my mom’s an elementary school teacher, my dad’s a service technician for a cable company. My sister ran away with some guy. I’m pretty much the last…” “Hope. I know, Mari. Look, I’m aware you think we couldn’t be more far apart, and in some ways, we are, but I get it; we have quite a few things in common too. We’re both under pressure to take the lead, we both have sisters...” She rolled her eyes, dumping the first omelet onto a plate and pouring in

the egg mix for the second. “Of course, mine was adopted from East Africa so I guess that’s another difference, but in all seriousness, the biggest thing we have in common is that we both haven’t given ourselves time to come up for air.” “Well, as I said, the likes of you can afford to do that. For people like me, taking a break is a terrible idea. You can probably never work again in your life if you don’t want to. Just drink bourbon and play golf every day, a different girlfriend each day if you want.” He laughed, accepting the breakfast she offered him. “And yet, as wonderful and exciting as playing golf every day sounds—not to

mention with a live blow-up doll at my side—I’m not doing it. Strange, isn’t it?” “My point is, I’m staying put. I’m not taking off with you, and I’m not moving back home, no matter how bad it gets. I might not have a job right now, but the taste I’ve gotten of this place is enough to keep me trying to make it here. You know, I’m actually glad my sister left now—I felt sort of resentful when she took off and didn’t look back, but I understand completely—she had to get out and make a life for herself, whatever the cost. I do still feel terrible about my parents being stuck there alone now, and I wish I could encourage them to move somewhere else—somewhere more open, diverse—but for some people, no

matter what, home is home. I was born and raised there, but it’s not home to me —I’ve been looking forward to leaving it behind since I was a kid.” She paused, smiling, then dumped her own omelet onto a plate. She sat next to him and began to eat. “I haven’t been here that long, but I really love New York. Everything is so different—the pace, the number of people per square inch…” Jim chuckled, wolfing down his own food. She truly had a knack for omelets. “You know that’s only a slight exaggeration, Jim. I saw a stack of mimes the other day, riding a unicycle and, at first, I was all, look at that—

another spectacle. But then I remembered, nope—you’ve got to carve out more space to move through one way or another. Usually by going up, hence all the high-risers.” Jim laughed again. “All right, that’s enough of that. Time to take you outside. Have you been to Greenwich Village yet?” She shook her head, chewing. “It’s a must. It’ll also take up a good part of the day.” “What’s there?” “It’s a nice, picturesque stroll. We’ll check out any of the little shops you want —and trust me, you’ll want to pop into quite a few. We’ll definitely stop by any of the cafés that interest you for lunch.

We can maybe even head over to the Hudson, or check out the Freedom tower. Later, we can take in a show—a comedy, a musical…maybe Hamilton— whatever you’d like; I can get tickets to anything. Oh, and Washington Square Park is a must. There’s a lot to see there —chess players, jazz musicians. I’ll even take a pic of you under the arch for your Facebook if you want.” “Oh, my gosh. I’m not one of those types.” “When you see the Washington Square Arch, you will want a photo, trust me. Anyway, I hope it won’t be too overwhelming for you. We may or may not encounter art installations, magicians, yoga classes...possibly even

a full performance of some Shakespearean play. We can watch Pigeon Man conduct the pigeons…” “I’m sorry, what?” “You heard correctly. We can listen to whatever Piano Man’s got on his schedule. There could be juggling, rats…” “Wait, did you just say juggling rats as in rats that juggle?” He laughed. “I can’t even correct you because you never know. We could run into some rats juggling, or someone juggling actual rats. There could even be a protest today —I don’t know. You never know, and that’s what makes it amazing. It’s full of surprises. The best way I can describe it

is that it’s like living in a cartoon. Birds are fluttering all around, squirrels darting… There might even be some chick in a pink bodysuit and one of those fluttery things from rhythmic gymnastics doing an interpretive dance. Something’s always going on there; the landscape is always changing. The characters, the shows, the events…you’re right, Mari— New York is probably one of the most dynamic places you’ll ever visit. You can’t get bored here and anyone who does has chosen to be.” “You’re really excited about this— look at you,” she said, smiling at him with what he could only interpret as affection. Warmth rushed through him.

“I don’t get a chance to go there often with a date since most prefer seclusion rather than public outings. But this village and the park—I love the energy, the open air, the natural environment. At any moment, a pigeon could poop on you—although, I suppose that could happen almost anywhere. Anyway, the park is my favorite— strange yet peaceful all at once. People of all ages and backgrounds, students, performing artists… Once, I witnessed a jazz band come together, starting with a solo guy on a sax. Next thing you know, he’s joined by other random musicians, and maybe they set it all up beforehand, but it seemed like it just happened to all come together and it was awesome. And

it didn’t stop there—some artist showed up, set up his easel, etc., and in no time, he’s drawing this newly formed, perfectly in-sync band. A truly magical moment.” “You’re adorably boyish right now, Jim Craig.” “We’ll see about boyish when I bring you back home.” Her cheeks flushed as she looked away, looking terribly embarrassed. “Which reminds me—I should probably stock up while we’re out there,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her as she finally looked back at him. She looked away again, making him chuckle. “About last night,” she began, “I saw

your face when I whipped that package out, and I just want you to know that my best friend advised me to always have at least two condoms on me—which she provided me with when she bought a box for herself—because you never know, and one should always be prepared. Never thought it would come in handy since I don’t do casual relationships, but there you go.” “You carried that thing around for years?” “Well, one year—she gave me the advice about a year ago.” He shook his head. “I’m glad to break your dry spell, Mari. And I assure you that what I feel for you is not casual, so you don’t have

to feel bad about breaking whatever deal you had with yourself. I’m happy to prove how much you mean to me, beginning with our date today.” He extended his arm to her and she took it, and once he again, he was flooded with the feeling that stars had aligned; everything just felt right. They belonged together.

CHAPTER 11

M A RIBEL

“

love this place,” Jim said I truly as they walked down Bleecker

Street. “No one knows my face, so I come here dressed down, dressed up, with shades or without, and I take in

everything in peace. Probably the only moments of peace I get. Well, outside of…” She shoved him, silencing him. “Where do you go to clear your mind, Mari? Before moving here— where was your ‘village?’” “I definitely didn’t have a place like this. There’s nothing like this,” she said as she looked all around her. “Not even in college?” “My own dorm room, I suppose, away from everybody. But that’s behind me. And it’s nowhere near as peaceful as this place because the stress was constant. It ebbed and flowed, but there was always some paper due, some test coming up, some book I was waiting for

the bookstore to restock. Sure, I had friends I’d hang out with, but whatever we did, wherever we went didn’t matter —just that we had all decided to take a break, so there was no specific place— only the space made with certain people.” “But before you came here, what were you up to? You graduated months ago, correct?” “Well, I worked over the summer, saving up money to come here and pursue my dreams.” “And why New York?” She looked at him like he was a little crazy. “Is it not the concrete jungle where dreams are made?”

He laughed. “Yes, something like that, I suppose.” “Besides, it seems more integrated here. More…advanced in a number of ways. I know New York has its own problems, but let’s remember I’m coming from the deep south. I’ve heard people say it feels they’ve traveled back in time a few decades when they come to visit. It’s still pretty shamelessly segregated in parts. You and me doing what we’re doing right now in parts there? Boy, the stink eyes we’d get. And more.” “It’s hard to believe it’s still like that,” he said, shaking his head. “Believe it. That social segregation

permeates pretty much all aspects— whether you’re filling your tank at the gas station and the cashier decides to help the white person who came in after you first, or you boldly get watched and followed in a department store. Like, in additional to institutionalized racism, people actually still yell the N-word from their cars. “I remember one time seeing my mom crack up at something on screen— something as simple as a genuine interracial friendship being represented or a white customer service type treating a black customer respectfully or something. That was like comedy gold to her; she was practically in stitches. Anyway, where I lived, because some

parts really keep to themselves, I wasn’t directly affected so much. I pretty much got the worst of it when I went to the state college. There were several incidents during my time there I’d rather not get into while we’re on this lovely date.” She paused to smile at him but he didn’t smile back. “Mari, I’m dating you now. I want to hear about all aspects of your life. You don’t need to spare me any sordid details—we are here together to have fun, but also to learn more about each other. So lay it on me, partner; I can take it.” “Fine. But I’ll still stretch it out; you don’t need everything at once. But for

example, I got rejected by all the Bama sororities. I graduated salutatorian of my high school class with a 4.3 GPA, had extracurricular activities out the wazoo, and I’m pretty friendly and open. But nope—they have a strict ‘whites only’ policy. At the time I was pretty bummed about it, but I later realized it was for my own good. The girls would have probably hazed me to death or outright smothered me in my sleep and then come up with some cover story that no one would have questioned, so they definitely did me a favor.” “I’m really sorry to hear this, Mari.” “I warned you.” “I don’t mean that I want you to stop sharing these hardships with me. I’m in

your life now, and I’m here to protect you. Beyond supplementing your lack of street smarts, I’ve got your back. Things like that happen, you let me know. As you like to throw in my face, I’ve got lots of money and power; I can make people pay for hurting you.” Maribel’s heart began to melt, so she quickly tried to change the subject, unable to deal with the emotions flooding her. “Your turn. I’m almost afraid to ask, but where’s your mom in this whole thing? You haven’t mentioned her.” He briefly looked away. “When I was twenty-one and Judy was sixteen, my mom died of ovarian cancer. It was terrible losing her, but I

felt even worse for my sister Judy; it broke my heart to see her lose her at such a crucial time. It’s been about five years since then, and it turns out I had nothing to worry about—Judy’s strong, a soldier. She’s more like my dad than I’ve ever been, so she’s hardy and focused. She knows exactly what she wants and goes for it. Well, except in one area.” He grinned. “She has this massive crush on my best friend Scott, but it’s like she refuses to acknowledge it to herself or decided not to do anything about it for whatever reason. Maybe she has a deal with herself, like you.” He shrugged and she shoved him

playfully. “Either way, I wish my mom could have seen how she turned out. I think Judy is both my mom and dad’s favorite kid and I don’t blame ‘em. She’s pretty awesome. Can’t wait to introduce you two. Speaking of sisters, what about yours? What happened?” “She and I were pretty close growing up, but once we hit our teens, everything changed. She’s two years older than me and maybe I wasn’t cool enough to be around her friends—fine, I get it; younger siblings are never cool unless they’re famous or something—but it was so abrupt. She no longer confided in me, she partied all the time, despite my parents giving her curfews and

chastising her and warning her of the dangers of whatever she was into, and then one day, she left with some guy and we haven’t heard hide nor hair from her since.” “Wait, are you sure she’s okay? She might need help…” Mari shook her head. “That would be one hell of a Weekend at Bernie’s trick by someone, because I see updates on her Facebook with new profile pics of her smiling and having fun. She’s alive, she’s…healthy, I suppose, and she’s an adult, so my parents can’t do anything. She’s just… gone. I just hope she’s as happy as she looks in her profile photo. She hasn’t blocked me, but I can tell she’s got me in

some kind of limited setting.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about, as I don’t use Facebook. Anyway, I’m sorry you and your sister are no longer close—what a shame.” She shrugged. “Sometimes people just move on— whatever needs they had were met, so they have no other reason to keep someone around. I’ve thought about the whole thing a lot, and I’ve been watching other people’s relationships, and death is certainly the worst—things unsaid, things that can never be said haunt people and there’s not much they can do about it—but people have this huge capacity to forget others they were once inseparable from while both

parties are still alive. “My parents are super close and they’re best friends and everything, so it’s harder for me to see it happen to them, but my friend, Annie—her parents divorced, and they might not have grown up together, but they married young and grew together, shared all sorts of intimacy. They were super close too, and the most important things in each other’s lives for a long time. And then one day, they weren’t anymore; all that bonding severed. Of course, it probably didn’t help that her dad had eventually found a job that required him to go away every now and then, and I can only imagine the problems that sprung from that. The point is, for a lot of people, proximity is

essential to fostering a bond—no matter how close and inseparable they once were.” “Except in the case of true love, it seems0—no matter the distance, hearts bonded by true love don’t forget.” Mari stared at him in wonder. “You’re saying you believe in that stuff now?” “I’ve seen the one-sided version of it with my mom, and there was at least one sickening couple I witnessed in college that seemed to have the real thing. I’d have to look it up and see how things went. But I’ve heard about this true love phenomenon here and there. As far as I can tell, you can grow to love almost anyone, and that’s the kind that needs to

be fed. But I do believe there are gamechanging people out there—those you couldn’t stop loving if you tried. We just don’t all get to meet them, hence the nonbelievers. In the case of true love— romantic or familial, you can run, but you can’t hide. No matter what you put between yourself and the one your heart chose or your soul connected with, that love goes nowhere. So if your sister truly loved you, I guarantee she still thinks about you. She might have even taken off with you in mind—to make sure she had no bad influence on you.” Mari almost halted her steps. “Holy cow. I never even thought of that.” “Maybe someday she’ll be ready to

talk to you again. She might even be embarrassed, dreading the words I told you so from the family if things didn’t work out as she thought. Anyway, don’t be too hard on her. Give her a chance if she ever asks for it—directly or indirectly.” Mari stared at Jim as if seeing him for the first time. “You are not at all like what I initially thought. You’re not what I’d expect some multimillionaire to be. You actually have a heart. Compassion.” His eyebrows raised, then he chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose I don’t have an Apple watch for a heart, Mari. Spoiler alert: my blood’s not actually blue.”

She laughed while his hand went to his stomach as it growled. “Also, I eat real food, not diamonds. You hungry yet? There’s this place I’d like you to try. Anything that catches your eye, really—I need to feed the beast.”

still felt sort of bathed in M aribel a golden glow as they sat waiting for their dessert. She felt like she had learned so much more about Jim—like her brain was still catching up with her heart. He worried her tremendously because he felt exactly like the thing

he’d mentioned earlier: a game-changer. “Stay right here,” he suddenly said, getting up and disappearing out of the restaurant’s doors. She watched him go, wondering what the heck he was up to. Five minutes later, he returned, smiling. “What on earth was that? They have a bathroom in here, don’t they?” “You’ll see,” he said, looking incredibly proud of himself. Once they were done eating and left, he led the way to a florist. Maribel smiled when she saw it, figuring out what he was up to. He let her hand go as he said, “be right back,” before darting into the shop.

He emerged with a gorgeous bouquet, dominated by peaches and cream. “Oh, my god,” she almost whispered, her voice choked. She was too touched by the gesture to be embarrassed that her eyes had watered as she took in the beautiful bouquet. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten flowers—probably a corsage for the prom. “They’re beautiful,” she said, finally aware enough to be mildly ashamed that she was practically in tears over such a simple thing. “These are my favorite colors—how did you know?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t. Just guessed. Somehow I knew exactly what I wanted the bouquet to look like, and when the florist was done with it, it was better than I imagined. To be honest, I think I saw something like it somewhere—can’t remember where—but it came to mind while I had the arrangement made. The colors seem to suit you. Anyway, I’m so glad you like it.” “I love it. I can’t wait to take them home and have them brighten up my place a bit. I wish I could keep them for months and months.” She saddened at the thought of them dying—sometime after Jim came to his senses and was long gone. “I’ll send you new ones if you’d like

—every week, fresh flowers to decorate your home.” Her heart squeezed, her throat tightening again to the point that she couldn’t respond. Finally, she got a hold of herself. She looked up at him, emotions still swirling about, but her throat had slackened enough for her to talk again. “Thank you,” she said. “My pleasure,” he replied, looking at her warmly before bending to kiss her lightly on the lips.

JIM

Jim knew he’d do anything to see Mari

smile, to see that joyous look on her face over and over again. Mari’s joy made him feel happy— like he had earned a gold star. As they headed back to her apartment in a taxi, it hit him—he’d seen a bouquet like the one he’d gotten her in a dream—the dream he had the night before he was supposed to walk down the aisle. He chuckled, and Mari immediately inquired what he was laughing about. “I just remembered where I saw the bouquet,” he said. “In that dream I told you about.” Her brows came together but she was still smiling, silently enquiring him to tell her more.

He shook his head. “Can’t remember much else.” It was the sort of half-truth he could live with; after all, he couldn’t remember many details beyond how he felt when he was expecting his bride. The strange bride herself was a blur —although his brain was starting to fill in a face.

T

he door had hardly closed behind them before Mari flung her arms around his shoulders and brought her face to his for a kiss. He took her lips hungrily, exploring her mouth with his tongue before gently

pulling away and indicating the bouquet. “Let’s put these away, shall we?” he said, wanting to make sure to preserve the flowers properly for her. She ran to find a container, filling it with water in record time. He started to arrange them, but he was apparently too detail-oriented for her, for she pulled him away, stripping off her top, then pulling him toward the bedroom. “Remind me to put the flower food in…” Her mouth grabbed his again. He helped her out of her bra and she wiggled out of her jeans and underwear. He picked her up and laid her on the bed gently before stripping his own

clothes off and eventually covering her body with his. He kissed her, remaining poised above her, her legs parted on each side of him, while she pulled on him, silently begging him to take her. He wanted to taste her, nibble on her neck and breasts, slide his hands all over her before they joined again, but she was quite impatient this time around. Still, he decided to torture her, pretending not to understand her hunger. Finally, she broke her lips away to say, “Please take me!” but before she got all the words out, he plunged into her warmth, smiling wickedly as she arched her back in pleasure.

“

you have to go?” he asked D odrowsily as Mari turned to shut

her alarm off. He couldn’t believe it was morning already. They had gotten back from their outing around six, then had a quick lovemaking session before grabbing snacks and chatting a bit about decor ideas while he properly sorted out her new flowers. Then she had attacked him again, and they had spent the next few hours joined. At some point, they had both fallen asleep—although she had nodded off first, giving him the chance to admire

her, to let all of his feelings flow freely as he caressed her silky brown skin, to place soft kisses on her forehead, her cheek, her shoulder. She made him forget all of his problems—so much so, that he hadn’t even done his due diligence in following up on the wedding scandal. But no doubt his dad had taken care of it, and he didn’t give a whit what his father had come up with; all that mattered was being here with Mari. Things were finally clear; he knew what he wanted to do. “How long will you be gone you think?” he asked as she was about to disappear into the bathroom. “I’m just following up on this one

lead, so it shouldn’t be more than two hours. Then we can do whatever you want.” The door closed and he heard the shower turn on. He considered following her in there again, but he didn’t want to fluster her or make her late for her meeting. He smiled to himself. They’d have plenty of time for what he had in mind later. Maribel got ready in record time, and he was suddenly faced with goodbye. “I’ll miss you,” he said before pressing his lips to her forehead, feeling the weight of truth in the statement. How had he gotten so used to her so

fast? She grabbed him by the cheeks and planted one on his lips. “I can’t wait to get back to you,” she said with a twinkle in her eye and an endearingly shy but joyous smile.

CHAPTER 12

JIM

J

im stared at the mail pile— notices from news stations, magazines. So Mari had been applying to media and entertainment companies—made

sense. Everyone could use a good copy editor. It seemed a little strange that all the communication came from television stations, magazines, and newspapers, however. Jim’s stomach dropped as his phone rang, and dread began to spread through him. He knew it couldn’t have been Mari calling—his gut let him know it could only be one of two people he would dread hearing from, and considering the way things ended with Lucy, that left one person. “Dad?” “Well, look who’s still alive! Well, thank heavens. Glad you’re okay, son,

because the sixty hours or so I haven’t heard from you makes a father worry.” “I’m sure Judy told you I was okay.” “Surely, you didn’t think that was enough? I would hate to think that my only son—my flesh and blood—would have the courtesy to let his only living parent know that he’s okay himself. I had to have done a better job of raising him than that.” “Dad, I’m sorry—I just needed some time away to think. I had to clear my head.” “That’s perfectly understandable— except you should let certain people know what’s going on. Among them, your father, your future wife…” “Who you managed to fuck in my

brief absence—yes, I know.” His father paused. “So I comforted the girl. She felt humiliated. Rejected.” “Dad, I’m not even going to argue about that; I couldn’t care less who Lucy spreads her legs for, which was part of the problem. I’m not going to marry her —whether you’d slept with her or not, I can’t stand the idea of being hitched to her. Not saying I’m not open to the idea of marriage ever, but I can’t waste time on Lucy.” “You’d rather spend it with Maribel, correct?” Jim suddenly heard his heartbeats in his ears. “How do you know about her?”

“Lucy gave me a rundown of your meeting, of course. What, you think I wouldn’t take matters into my own hands? Like I said, you disappeared after running out on your wedding day without a word, your phone is turned off, you never show up to your penthouse— what do you expect a father to do? Anyway, once Lucy made contact with you, it was easier to make sure everything was fine and do a little digging.” Jim’s heart was still pounding; part of him was expecting the other shoe to drop. “Listen, I don’t blame you for squeezing in more flings; we’ll return to this matter some other day, and I won’t

force you to marry Lucy. Anyway, I hope you haven’t been too chatty with this Maribel.” “What do you mean?” “I may have failed you when it comes to common courtesy—I mean, it’s not like I’m the strongest example of it myself as you’ve pointed out—but I have at least raised you to be smart. To do your due diligence to some degree. Surely, you haven’t fallen into the trap of spilling secrets in the afterglow to a reporter?” The beats in Jim’s ear seemed to stop. “Excuse me?” he said while his eyes darted to the stack of mail again. “I can’t imagine she kept it from you

all this time. Madison will have her work cut out for her if you’ve been so careless as to give this reporter any details; the whole PR department will be busy. You know those media vultures are always chomping at the bit for a story. Everyone loves a scandalous takedown.” “Don’t be so dramatic, dad—what sort of takedown can happen from a silly story about an unfinished wedding?” “Surely, I don’t have to spell this out for you, but alas—it looks like I must. This reporter knows the ins and outs of the past few days, doesn’t she? The real reason you were to marry Lucy? That Lucy and I have had relations? About the conglomerate? We are a strong family

brand, are we not? I mean, sure—you’re right, ultimately, who cares about the sordid sex lives of members of one’s financial consulting firm or investment companies? Except some people do. I’d prefer to keep our image clean, but obviously, you have other plans.” “How did you find out all of this about Mari?” “Quite easily. I had Lucy followed, then I had you and your current fuck toy followed. From there, a simple matter of inquiries as to who the lovely black lady is, which apartment she lived in. And from there, full name in hand…well, you know how simple background checks are. And boy, are some of those southerners talkative. Mention following

up on a resumé reference, and as far as they’re concerned, they’re helping a friend or family member get a job.” His dad paused as if waiting for him to catch up. “You know it’s true, Jim. I know you’re in denial, but I’m sure evidence is there that I’m telling the truth. She has most likely been using you, and you can expect to see the sordid details of the wealthy, handsome groom who jilted his beautiful young bride, who then fell into the comforting arms of his widowed father while he quickly went on to date below his station. Tell me, Jim—what else did you share with her? I must prepare Madison so she can start working on the statements.”

Jim hung up and ran to Maribel’s bedroom. He might have thought twice before about sifting through her stuff, but his dad’s revelations killed the usual extended courtesies. When he came across what looked like a recording device in her underwear drawer, wrapped in a silken red nighty, his insides collapsed. He hit play and listened to his own voice recounting intimate details to the one person he had dared to trust in a long while. Sickness turned to pain, anger. Maribel, like so many other girls he’d dated, had just been acting. Saying everything he wanted to hear, doing

everything she needed to do to get what she wanted out of him. Before, it didn’t matter so much because his relationships with women had been mutually beneficial—he knew what the ladies were up to, and as long as he was getting what he needed out of it, they were both happy, though the women were obviously hoping for something more—beyond being wined and dined. This time, though, he’d been duped. He’d gotten what he didn’t even know he wanted, and she’d made him give what he otherwise wouldn’t have given, had he known. She took some choices from him, and now, he felt violated in so many ways.

He should have known better; he should have realized that what he’d started to feel and what it seemed they had couldn’t possibly be real; it was obviously manufactured as a result of his desperate condition. How could he have ever thought he’d found something special? How could he have allowed his thoughts to get entangled with her, his heart attached? He should have figured something was up when she invited him over and didn’t sleep with him. How could he have been so stupid? When it came to women, there were always ulterior motives. He placed the voice recorder dead

center on top of the mail pile, which he’d arranged in a sort of artistic geometrical design. She wouldn’t miss it. She’d know immediately something was up. As angry as Jim was, as betrayed and hurt as he felt, only sadness overwhelmed him as he gathered his things and accepted never seeing Maribel Gibson again.

MARIBEL

“You were right, Annie—I couldn’t do it. It’s just not me.” Mari heard Annie let a breath out, likely in relief.

“I’m really glad to hear it,” she said. “It’s one thing to report on the weather or expose corruption or whatever, but committing to turning someone’s pain and tragedy into entertainment? That’s not the Maribel I know and love. His story’s an interesting one, but it doesn’t have to be the one. “You think after publishing something like that, people won’t come to you for more of it? Is that how you want to establish your brand? You’re doing the right thing, dropping it—I know it, you know it. I doubt you’ll regret not splattering this man’s personal struggle on a page, inviting everyone to pick at and ridicule his pain just because he’s rich. Plenty of rich assholes out

there, some of whom I might not be so sympathetic about, but it doesn’t sound like this guy’s just some clueless douche.” “I know. Ugh. So messed up how quickly I got desperate. I just always thought…I guess I thought I’d have more choice in the matter somehow—like I’d get to pick and choose worthy stories right in the beginning.” “You still can, can’t you? Nobody says you have to write for some trashy magazine or something; you can still work on your own terms.” “Freelancing? Guess what would be a great way to get people to trust me with doing articles for them—an amazing frickin’ exclusive.”

“No one’s saying you have to give up your dreams. Some bloggers find ways to make money, YouTube vlogs, etc. You still get to choose. You have plenty of other options; you just haven’t had a chance to explore them yet. People find a way to do what they want all the time, and the Maribel I know will figure it out. Meanwhile, the way you talk about the guy—sounds like things have progressed.” “Things definitely got…cozy between us. I feel strongly about him, Annie, and I really hope he doesn’t freak out once I tell him I’m a reporter.” “You just have to tell him asap.” “I know. I’ve been waiting for the right time. Obviously, the night I met him

wasn’t a good time, and neither was last night. I think later today, though. I agree I can’t keep it a secret forever. I just want to make sure he has a good sense of me and can trust when I do tell him that he is not in any danger; his secrets are safe with me.” “Don’t wait too long, girl.” “I won’t.”

got to her door, Mari realized A sthatsheshe’d been smiling the whole time she was on her way home. Although she was jobless with no promising prospects on the horizon, she felt happy.

She was coming home to a man who managed to make her feel things she hadn’t allowed herself to feel before. He had even managed to make her start thinking of other possibilities outside of her five-year-plan. She turned the knob. As soon as she opened her door, she knew something was wrong; the place felt completely empty. “Jim?” Maybe he had dashed out to find a coffee shop where he could get some “real coffee?” She peeked in her bedroom and the bathroom, and when she returned to the receiving area, she did a double take. She hadn’t noticed it at first in her

concern for Jim’s whereabouts, but the strange little pile on her countertop filled her with dread. She realized Jim had to have gone through her clothing drawer to find the recording device, and as she started to feel violated, she remembered what was on the recorder and why he’d put the stack together—he had discovered the truth about her, and she would probably never see him again because she’d violated him. She flipped through the stack of mail, opened a few, and realized she had actually procured another promising job opportunity. When one door closes, another opens, her mom’s voice said, but only

sadness filled her at the thought of possibly having found work but lost Jim. She knew she should’ve been ecstatic that things had worked out after all—she had beaten the odds and gotten what she’d come for. Sort of. But she had also lost something she hadn’t planned on and wasn’t prepared to let go of. Maribel hadn’t allowed herself to see what she really wanted all this time. She had been bent on playing it safe, sticking to the path she’d carved out for herself. She hadn’t allowed herself to imagine her relationship with Jim could be much more than a temporary fling, and now she realized she would love to

accept everything he had offered her. Pain seared through her as she thought of him somewhere out there hurting, the sting of betrayal scarring him. She wouldn’t even get the chance to explain herself! No—she had to find him. But where to start? Call him, of course. She squeezed her eyes together as she remembered one important thing: she had given him her phone number, but he’d never used it, so she’d never actually gotten around to getting his. Some reporter you are—it would have been so easy. Or perhaps he was just that

practiced; after all, a guy like that dating casually can’t give his real number to every trollop he takes for a spin. It probably only took one crazy bitch to hammer home how important it was to limit direct contact with him. She wondered, did he change his burner phone after every chapter? Once every six months? Sure, he could obviously afford to just use burner phones all the time, but how cumbersome would that be? Focus, girl! Think. You don’t know where he lives, you don’t have his real phone number... But she did know a few places he liked to go, and her best bet now was to haunt them.

She remembered what she’d said about Washington Square Park and Greenwich Village. “I don’t come to the park at night for obvious reasons, although I’ve done it once. As for Greenwich Village, anytime is a good time: morning, afternoon, early evening…” “But not at night.” “Mari, nighttime in New York can be a very dangerous time, especially for a girl like you. A woman alone at night is never a good idea. Even I have to limit my exposure to some degree.” She checked her watch. Even if he happened to be in either place, the chance they’d miss each other by minutes or a mile was high.

But she’d be damned if she didn’t try.

CHAPTER 13

JIM

J

im saw the name on his phone screen and scowled. “What is it, dad?” “I’m giving you another chance, son. Do the right thing, or I could have that

girl of yours blacklisted so fast she won’t know what hit her. But if you cut the poor girl loose, I’ll even help her get placed. We’ll sort out the apologies and go ahead as planned…” “I only answered so I could hang up on you,” Jim said before disconnecting the call.

F

rom the fountain, Jim stared at the arch where he’d posed with Mari, who had wanted a photo under the famous Washington Square Arch after all. “But I won’t put it on Facebook, promise,” she’d said, but he didn’t care

if she did. He had held her in his arms from behind, full of joy and grinning as some stranger took their picture while hoping that stranger didn’t make a run for it with Mari’s phone. Jim glanced over at the spot he and Mari stood while watching a clown ballet, then a flutist. He kept looking around, overwhelmed by the memories of the previous day and the stark absence of Maribel that made his heart hurt. How on earth was he supposed to get over this? In no time at all, she had crashed into his life and made off with his heart. Suddenly, he thought he caught a

glimpse of Mari and his heart leaped. Haha, you’re thinking about her so much you’re actually seeing her. But joy and worry had collided strongly, leaving him reeling, and he knew it would take some time to move past his emotional entanglement with her. Obviously, the person he’d glimpsed wasn’t her, and he tried to get his emotions to calm back down because he’d been happy to see her, but concerned about her being out this late by herself. Why the hell did he even still care? Wasn’t her character clear? A backstabber like that—she was tougher and far more cutthroat than she

had appeared, so she could handle herself just fine; she’d fit right in here. Had she even moved here from the south? What had she told him that was actually true? But even now, as hurt and angry as he felt by her betrayal, he wished he hadn’t been seeing things a few seconds ago, and that he could see her once more. He glanced around again. Someone who looked like her was moving closer and closer to him. Boy, he couldn’t wait until his mind stopped playing tricks on him and making him see her in dreams and in waking life.

But the mirage of her kept getting nearer, tiny steps quickening, and he even thought he heard the figure say, “Jim.” He blinked, and the figure remained before him. “I’m so glad I found you!” Maribel said, looking like she wanted to hug him but was fighting her impulse. So it was her after all, gazing at him with glistening eyes! Too many emotions fought for his attention. “Jesus Christ, Mari,” he said, keeping his hands in his coat pockets, “what the heck did I tell you about being alone somewhere like this at night? Don’t you watch Law & Order? What

are you doing out here?” Her smile widened. “You’re still worried about me.” “Of course! Although I know I don’t have to be. And that it’s ironic as hell— thinking someone could take advantage of you.” “I came looking for you, of course— you just left! Not that I blame you, but I couldn’t let you take off without knowing the whole story. So will you please hear me out? I know what you discovered looks pretty damning, and I need to explain.” “Well, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past few days, it’s that things must be addressed head on; no festering, no assumptions. Not talking

about something doesn’t make it go away, so spill it—although will you answer me honestly about whether or not you’re recording this conversation right now?” “I’m not recording, and I know you have no reason to believe me, but it’s true. Look, I moved here for a reporting job, and when I didn’t get the most promising position then ran into you, I was sort of desperate to get a scoop. I felt pretty stupid for moving all the way out here without having a sure thing in place, and then having it fall through. So your conclusion is correct.” “Thank you for honesty,” he said neutrally, then turned as if planning to leave.

“It’s been a whirlwind past few days, Jim. Things have changed big time for both of us, and for me, my priorities have definitely changed.” He turned back to her, listening. “My feelings are at the forefront for the first time, and if I don’t go with them, I suspect I’m going to be a very unhappy woman. Listen, I’m not going to expose you and your family—I decided I wouldn’t after that meeting with Lucy. Before then, I was sure you were just some rich playboy who ultimately wouldn’t suffer from a stupid gossip piece anyway. And why should I sacrifice my shot at a career for the likes of you? Someone born with a silverspoon in his mouth, and even without

that, born with every advantage in the current world? Outside of your father’s company, you’re destined to be given more chances, opportunities, and benefits of the doubt than I’ll ever get.” “Is this how you always apologize?” “But I realized you weren’t just some silver-spoon jerk. I saw the real you, vulnerable you. Human you. And there’s no way I could throw you under the bus. Jim, my attraction to you morphed into something else as I got to know you and I came to care for you quite deeply, very quickly. Alarmingly so, to be honest. What I felt for you was no longer about you possibly being the ticket to my goals, and I came to realize that what I want more than anything is

you. As small as my apartment is, I can’t imagine you not being in it anymore.” She stopped, giving him a chance to respond, but he just stood there peering at her, processing her words and his feelings. She sounded sincere, and he wanted to believe her, and more than that, gather her in his arms, but he waited, examining her features, reading between the lines. Mari pulled something out of her pocket and tossed it into the fountain. “What the heck did you just do?” he asked. “That was the voice recorder. I’m proving to you that I have no plans to use anything I got.” Then she pulled out her phone and

erased the recording on there, showing him as she did it. “I’m not sure that’ll destroy it, by the way,” he said, nodding his chin toward the fountain. “Best to burn it or smash it to pieces. You have a lot to learn, Mari.” He bent over the fountain, visually locating the device. “I’m sure I’ll pick up some pee and god knows what else but here goes…” He reached in and retrieved the recording device. “I’ll take care of this, amateur.” He smashed the voice recorder with his boot, then picked up the pieces and pocketed them. “I love you, Jim,” she seemed to puke out, her words coming out fast and

almost jumbled. “I care what happens to you, I care how you’re feeling, and I want your happiness more than practically anything—even if it means exiting your life. Meeting you here was mostly about taking away the hurt I know you must’ve felt when you thought I’d betrayed you. I wanted to ease it—I couldn’t stand the thought of you in pain because of me. Sure, I wanted to clear my name, but I needed you to know I wasn’t going to betray you.” His final protective layer started peeling away though he still kept his distance. Did she really love him? Or was she just saying it because she knew what a weakness he had for her?

He took a deep breath. “You know, as furious as I was, I was mostly hurt and sad. I had a hard time imagining not seeing you again, Mari, even after what you’d done to me. Plus, I couldn’t stop worrying about you, imagining you slowly figuring out this city and making dangerous mistakes. Worst of all, despite all the logic that says otherwise, I felt compelled to forgive you. I’ve been here in disbelief, mostly, because part of me refused to accept that it was over between us; misunderstanding or not—I still wanted to be with you.” He could tell she’d started rejoicing and was trying hard to restrain it; her body practically vibrated with hope.

“I would say I don’t understand what this means, but a lot of things are abundantly clear. I finally understood on an emotional level how my mom took my dad back after his indiscretions, and that it wasn’t just because she wanted to hold on to the lifestyle. She truly loved him, and though she always said it, I never got it viscerally until now.” He turned fully toward her, opening his body language in preparation for what he knew was to come. “I love you too, Mari. And yes, I still want to be with you.” Mari practically flew toward him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she grabbed him in a hug. He held her thin frame to him tightly,

his body celebrating at holding her close again. When they finally pulled away, she said, “Aren’t you afraid your dad will cut you off?” He shook his head. “Even if he did, I’m pretty much set. I mean, I’ve worked in finances practically all my adult life. I picked up a thing or two.” Mari’s eyes didn’t leave his face, and they seemed larger than normal, shimmering with unshed tears. “Will you come home with me tonight?” She didn’t say it in any lewd way, but he grinned wickedly at her. “Why, Mari, I’m exactly that kind of

guy.” He pulled her into a brief kiss. “After tonight, though, as cozy and warm as your apartment is, I’m going back to the penthouse. It’s got quite a view and too many bedrooms for just me, so you’re welcome to come too. If you like it, maybe we can work something out.” He winked at her. “I really do love you, Jim,” she said far too seriously. He held her face in his hands. “I really do love you too, Maribel Gibson. Oh—remind me to tell you more about this dream I had.” “The one where you were marrying someone who wasn’t Lucy?”

“How did you know I meant that one?” “Just a guess. Especially since it’s the only one you ever mentioned.” “Well, I told you the details were all fuzzy, but recently, the face of my dream bride became clear.”

CHAPTER 14

M A RIBEL

knew her mouth was M aribel hanging open and didn’t care. She looked around the suite, wondering how long it would take to actually visually take it all in.

She felt like she’d already spent a few minutes checking out just a quarter of Jim’s place. The penthouse was easily larger than the home she’d grown up in, and the view from it took her breath away. “This doesn’t even make sense,” she said, trying to process the striking evidence of his wealth before her. The furniture, the flooring, the furnishings—everything was a testament to the handsome man’s fortune. She felt like she should take off her shoes and leave them outside so they didn’t spoil the look of the place. “How…?” “Just over four thousand square feet. See, I told you—I need some company

so it’s not such a waste.” “How the heck did you stay in my place for days when you have all of this here? My god, my apartment must have felt like a bathroom to you. And just the toilet part.” He chuckled. “It’s easy once you’re there. Once I met you, I had a longing to be wherever you were. Home is where the heart is, right? Besides, I had the whole avoiding-the-public-and-the-press thing going on—well, so I thought. Speaking of which, I would have never pegged you for a sleazy reporter, Mari; you really surprised me there.” She felt offended at first but realized that’s exactly the road she’d been about

to embark. “I never planned to be. I wanted to be more like...Erin Brockovich. Or Michael Moore. Investigative journalists with public health—physical and otherwise—in mind.” “So how did you go from Erin Brockovich to TMZ?” She shrugged. “You don’t understand—I don’t fail anything. I’ve been on the honor roll my whole school life, never got anything less than a B, graduated high school salutatorian, graduated magna cum laude from college with a double major in Journalism and Communication Studies. I’m used to things going pretty smoothly, so when I got here and didn’t get the job

that seemed promised to me, I panicked.” “My god, you’re hard on yourself. And I thought my dad was bad. You didn’t even give yourself time…” “But I have a five-year plan! And it includes winning a Pulitzer by the age of twenty-five, thank you very much.” He chuckled again. “Wow. You do dream big. Well, I hate to break it to you, but celebrity gossip won’t get you there.” “I just thought it would get my foot in the door. I thought somehow it would buy me a way in, and soon, I’d be able to dictate my own stories and terms. The sooner I got hired, the sooner I could flex my article-writing muscles. I thought

how I started wouldn’t matter so much— it was all about getting to a particular end. “Anyway, the longer I stayed here, jobless, the more panicked I got as I realized what and who I was up against. Sure, I have some savings for living expenses, but as you know—well, you might not—it’s super expensive here, and I had sort of nightmarish visions of having to take up something—anything else—just to pay bills, spending valuable energy doing something I didn’t want to do. Even if gossip wasn’t exactly what I wanted to do, at least it was in the general vicinity of my intended job—unlike admin or something. I could at least tell people I

work for so-and-so magazine or newspaper. All most people back home know is that I wanted to be a reporter— not specifically what kind—and I wanted to, you know, look like an instant success. Everyone expects it, including me.” “Well, it looks to me like you were in such a hurry to get out, you didn’t give yourself time to figure out a structured path. Not to knock the entertainment industry, but you don’t have to wallow in that muck to get your name out there—it might even be detrimental if you want to be taken seriously. Believe me, I know —rushing into something just as a means to some end is not always the best idea. Essentially, by throwing me under the

bus for your trashy exposé, it would have been like you committing to marrying Lucy; while some sort of immediate benefit might come of it, think of what it could prevent you from having instead. For example, you could be fulfilling some silly request for your boss and not have the time to pursue some other worthwhile story.” He grabbed her hands. “I waited for you, Mari. You can wait for the right opportunity. Like I said, I do have friends and friends of friends in high places. I can pull some strings, possibly even get you a job as a news assistant—a reporter in business news, perhaps. But eventually.” He hesitated, and she wondered

about the wary look in his eyes. “Sounds to me like you could have built up a portfolio where you’re from— it seems you had plenty of material to work with there.” “Top three racist states in the country? No doubt it’s fertile ground, but good luck getting anyone to pay attention. I might as well type water is wet. Maybe eventually, after establishing myself.” “So you’re sure you want to stay here?” She looked at him quizzically. “Of course.” “Great. I have a proposition for you. Listen—don’t get offended, but I’ve been doing some thinking and that led to

a bit of digging, and I think you should get your master’s degree from Columbia’s School of Journalism. Depending on if you’re getting the M.S. or M.A., you’ll be done in nine or ten months, and it’s a hell of a thing to add to your resumé. Hell, it was founded by Joseph Pulitzer himself—it’s where they hand out the awards. You don’t even have to go full-time; you can attend parttime while working if you want. Either way, you’ll be rubbing shoulders with past, present, and future greats in the field. Maybe the real reason you were led here was to get you in that school. Heck, you live just, what, thirty minutes from it?” “You’re saying, despite my plans, the

actual reason I was drawn here was to run into some millionaire to encourage me to continue my schooling.” “And pay for it, of course.” It took Maribel a few seconds to form her words. “Excuse me?” “You heard me. It’s only about a hundred grand, and I’m sure we can find some way both you and my company can benefit from it. Now, from what I read, you’ll want to start with the Master of Science since it’s for aspiring journalists, possibly the concentration in Investigative Journalism.” “Wow, you sure did your homework. You know, I had considered graduate school, but not everyone gets

scholarships, and if I didn’t get a job that could cover it…” “Well, that’s no longer a concern, is it? So let’s tuck that baggage away.” She smiled, feeling as if a weight had been lifted. “So you’ve figured things out for me —what about you?” “I want to be wherever you are, Mari. If you agree with me about furthering your education, I’m happy to keep working at the company. I love it here in New York, and with you here, I have no reason to leave. I realized the problem wasn’t the job itself—it was that that’s all there was. Staying with the company and having an arranged wife did not appeal to me; it felt too much

like getting to choose nothing important in my own life. But with you around, I no longer feel as if something’s missing. I have no problem showing up to work, doing whatever I have to do as long as I get to come home to you. You made me appreciate what I have, and I’m quite content with everything I’ve got going on now, everything I’ve been given. Your presence makes all the difference, Mari. Which brings me to my next proposition.” It was her turn to look at him warily. “Traveling around the world, perhaps getting experience interning at various international media places could make a hell of an application essay.” She burst into laughter.

“I’m dead serious, Mari. Maybe not the world, and we don’t have to go for months—perhaps just one month—but the application deadline for Columbia is December 15th. We’ll, of course, get it in long before then.” He grabbed her hands again. “I’ve been over-prepared for something I wasn’t sure I wanted, and you’ve been underprepared for something you’re sure you want. We both need to get out of our comfort zones, look at things from another angle. Reward ourselves for being so good so far about whatever—however you want to look at it. Just come away with me, Mari; I want to spend some time truly away from everything with you. ”

She didn’t have to think about it for long—no money or job woes for a month? Actually taking a vacation? Count her in! She nodded with an inviting smile. He smiled back then bent to kiss her, sending warmth traveling through her core as he pulled her close. “I’ll even make sure you keep your little apartment. The whole time we’re gone, the whole time we’re back… however long you want. Until you’re sure of me.” She was pretty sure of him now, but she didn’t bother to say it. “You better be prepared, Jim. People are going to say some weird things now that you’re with me.”

He shrugged. “It’s not like I only dated white girls before.” “Yeah, but am I just some lay? Or am I the girl you’d rather be with than Lucy? Once people realize you’re serious…” “Fuck ‘em. I really don’t want you to worry about any of that stuff, Mari; I won’t let anyone bother you or harass us. Don’t think I won’t dip into my funds to protect you by any means necessary. Now what about your family? How do you think they’ll respond to some white guy visiting on holidays?” “They won’t care. My best friend Annie will be stoked because she’s all for love however it comes. My parents…well, they might think I took leaving them behind to the extreme.”

“We can’t let them think that. Let’s fly them here for Christmas!” “They’d love that, I think.” “Great. But first things first—you, me, Europe.”

EPILOGUE

had traveled with Jim all M aribel over—from Spain to Prague. She had knocked off a few places on her bucket list just like that: Italy, Greece, and France among them.

Jim even surprised her with places she never imagined she’d want to go, like Dubai. With so many places to see, so many types of food to try, so many cultures to taste, one month away from the U.S. was not nearly enough time, and they were soon reentering Jim’s ridiculously huge penthouse, a bellhop dragging their luggage in behind them. “It feels weird to be back, doesn’t it?” Jim said. “And have to do mundane things, like go through mail? To be honest, I’m curious to see if you’ve gotten a response yet.” “From Columbia? So quickly, you think? The deadline hasn’t even arrived!”

“Well, I want to see and I’m glad you agreed forwarding your mail here was a good idea.” Jim retrieved a stack and they went through the envelopes. Nothing. “Okay. So I was a bit over-excited. Damn it—I was hoping to do this after your acceptance arrived, but I just can’t wait anymore.” Maribel’s heart seized. “What are talking about, Jim?” “Give me a sec.” He headed back toward his bedroom then returned with his hands behind his back, his green eyes twinkling. “Mari, I think you might just be the woman of my dreams,” he said.

“Say what, now?” “That dream the night before the whole Lucy debacle—I’ve told you about it before—I’m pretty sure it was you, Mari, that you’re literally the woman from my dream.” “But you hadn’t even met me yet.” “That’s just it—I was being warned, I think. I was being fed a clue. Either way, I did the right thing and waited for you.” He dropped to his knees. “I feel like we went on a honeymoon without the wedding, and I’d like to correct that. You’re the woman I want to marry, Mari.” He made a slight face at the repeated syllables. Then he pulled out a ring box,

kissing her hand before popping it open and holding up the almost-blinding diamond to her. “Maribel Ann Gibson, will you marry me?” Maribel had been rendered silent by her tightened throat, so all she could do was nod as tears blurred her vision. He slipped the ring on her then rose, wrapping her tightly in his strong arms, gripping her against his warm, hard chest. “I love you so much, Mari. I can’t wait to have you walk up the aisle toward me, then spend my life with you. We’ll figure all the wedding details later…although I’m thinking maybe we can have a small wedding around

Christmas—when your parents are here. That’s less than a month away, though, so maybe we should wait a bit, and after you get your acceptance letter, throw a summer wedding. Either way, I prefer small but, of course, it’s up to you. In the meantime, I guess you get to start at that internship you were offered…” “Shut up, Jim,” Maribel said affectionately, a tear making its way down her face, but she was smiling brightly at him. Then she brought their faces together and kissed him long and hard.

“

T

hat’s frickin’ hilarious. I can’t believe she’s your stepmother now,” Mari said as they lay naked on his king-sized bed. Jim had finally caught up on all his emails and broke the news as soon as he saw the notice. “Apparently, that was the best way to spin it according to PR. Paradoxical, but I guess with the threat of them having their ‘relations’ coming out, they turned it into this great love story—about how Lucy had settled for me while pining for my dad, and how my dad was trying to do the right thing by me, sacrificing his own desires blah blah blah. I can see why they pay Madison the big bucks. Even I was fanning my face, my heart

fluttering, once I read the bulletin.” She shoved him lightly. “But seriously, it’s no big deal— business as usual. I’m obviously doing my own thing with you, and no one really blinks at young women marrying men twenty years their senior. Plus, we’re talking about a crowd that’s seen a widow marrying her dead husband’s brother, even steps getting together. Some people just like to keep it all in the family.” “Speaking of family, when do I get to meet Judy?” “Whenever you want. Possibly tomorrow, when this vacation is officially over.” “I’m so glad your dad wasn’t a total

dick about this whole thing; I’m glad he didn’t banish you.” “And mess with that wonderful tale they spun? My banishment would only lead to more scrutiny. This way, with you and me together, it works even better for the narrative they went with. It’s clear Lucy and I were never in love, and I’m sure once everyone sees me with you, they’ll get why I couldn’t settle.” “Either way, he had threatened to harm you.” Jim quickly leaned up one elbow, and she was momentarily distracted by his bulging bicep. “In what way? And when was this?” “Somehow he got my number and he called me the day you found those letters

and took off. I didn’t have time to entertain him since I was off to find you, but he ‘suggested’ I encourage you to do the right thing then leave you alone. ‘How kind of you to entertain my son despite his disability,’ he said, and I asked him what he meant. Then he said, ‘Always needs crutches, that one.’” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, once he stated his case and started to go on and on as you tend to do sometimes, I just hung up on him.” Jim’s eyebrows raised, and laughter slowly took over him. “Nice,” he said when he caught his breath. “I ended up doing the same thing when he called me, which was probably right after he called you. He did sound a

bit more desperate now that I think about it. Anyway, you’re brave for ignoring him like that. And you have nothing to worry about—he’s mostly bark—no bite —so I wouldn’t be concerned about any lasting consequences. Maybe for me since Lucy will probably get half his estate now instead, but either way, the most she ends up with is half—Judy would get the other half, of course.”

3 months later

“

I knew it!” Jim said, his eyes S ee, shining with pride. Mari was just jumping up and down

like a kid gripping the acceptance letter, silently screaming and shouting with joy. “They think you’re awesome, too. How could they not? You, my love, are a dream come true.” “I’m so happy. This is so awesome! I can’t wait to start.” “You’ll be matriculating as Maribel Craig, won’t you?” “You’re asking me if I’m keeping my last name?” “Well, we’re having that summer wedding, but you’re this independent woman, so…” “By the way, it’s so weird leaving everything in the hands of a wedding planner, especially since it’s so small.” “Any word from your sister on

whether or not she’ll make it?” Mari’s shoulders sagged and Jim regretted bringing it up. “Not yet, but it’s fine if she can’t. It’s not like it would be a surprise. My mom and dad will be there, Annie will be there, and you will be there. That’s all that matters to me. I love you, Jim Craig.” “I love you more, Maribel Gibson.” She poked him. “Craig,” he corrected himself, swelling with joy. “See, that’s all I wanted to know.” They locked lips, and Jim felt so light and happy, he almost thought his feet might actually lift from the ground.

out for Scott & Judy’s L ook story, and Mari’s best friend’s

**

love story coming soon in books 2 & 3 of the Secrets & Deception series!**

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mia Caldwell has been fantasizing about stories of “Happily-Ever-After” since she was a little girl, and now that she’s all grown up her “Happily-Ever-After” stories have taken a steamier turn!

After graduating from college, Mia still wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to do with her life. Bored with her day job as an Administrative Assistant for a nonprofit, she started writing stories on the side and sharing them with her friends. They gave her the push

she needed to share them with you!

She lives in New York with two rascally cats named Link and Zelda, eats too much chocolate and Chinese take-out, and goes on way too many blind dates.

She’s still waiting for Mr. Right, but in the meantime she’ll keep dreaming up the perfect man!

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Copyright © 2016 by Rose Francis All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.

Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.

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