WIFE WANTED (A Billionaire Bad - Bella Grant

Contents TITLE Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17

Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 BONUS NOVEL TITLE BONUS NOVEL CONNECT

WIFE WANTED

(A Billionaire BAD BOY

Romance)

Plus Bonus Novel

By Bella Grant Copyright (c) 2016. All Rights Reserved Find all my steamy books at

http://bellagrantbooks.com/su

Chapter 1 Riley groaned as he glanced out of the helicopter door. He hated these meetings. They were utterly pointless. Forced him to throw on a silk tie and shave his stubble. He rather liked having beard stubble. Brought all the ladies to his side. He smirked. Just like the girl from last night…what was her name? Jill? Jane? He snapped his fingers towards his young assistant’s face and laughed. “Julie! She was the girl last night.” Ben smiled. “You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that?” “What? I can’t keep track of

them all.” “Don’t you think that’s a bit shallow?” Riley shrugged and lounged back in the leather bench seat, making it creak against his leather belt. He might have admitted that his behavior was a bit on the shallow side, although he’d been a lot different in the old days. Back then, he was nothing more than a businessman working on running his grandfather’s company, which dealt with cyber security. It was such a growing industry that his grandfather’s tiny, one-room building had turned into a massive, modern skyscraper within ten years. He’d built an empire for his son to inherit…until said son and his wife died

in a horrible jet crash. Riley had only been eleven, and his grandfather had taken him in and raised him to be a business-minded young man who knew the ins and outs of the company by the time he was sixteen. “This is the future,” his grandfather had told him repeatedly. “This is your future. People always want to be kept safe and this…this is how we do that. It's how we make those dreams of a perfect cyber world come true.” “Really? We actually manage to do all of that?” he’d asked, still dealing with his teenage angst and having lost his parents. “What if we fail?”

His grandfather had laid his heavy hands on Riley’s small shoulders and given them a gentle squeeze. “We do not fail in this family. We only succeed and build onto that success. You will one day be in charge here, and if you fail, I will come back and haunt you until the day you die.” Riley smiled now as the helicopter banked and headed in the opposite direction of Cyber Vault, Inc.— his grandfather’s company, and now his. He had taken the reins when he was eighteen, and his grandfather retired, moved out of state to the country and, as far as Riley knew, was living the very relaxing dream of owning a ranch, of all things. For the first few years, Riley had

lived simply, keeping the apartment he had, not splurging on fancy cars, and hardly ever dating. He’d been business focused. There were women—always women wanting to make a good impression on a billionaire—but he’d kept them at arms’ length. After all, he didn’t just run the company from a penthouse. He actually ran it from his office, working right alongside his employees. He was business driven, doing exactly as his grandfather had wanted. Riley smiled a bit as he repeated in his mind what his grandfather used to say: Expand the business and help keep people safe. Then, almost four years ago on

his twenty-second birthday, something happened. Riley’s smile faded as he thought back to that night. The flashing lights, the sirens. The sound of squealing tires and the surreal sensation of watching everything he loved disappearing before him… “Riley, we’re here. Do you want your notes?” “Hmm? Oh yes, thank you, Ben.” Riley straightened his tie and tried to force the dark thoughts from his mind. He’d get through this meeting, get back to work, then go home, and maybe tonight, he’d nurse a bottle of whiskey by himself. This close to the anniversary,

he could use it. The helicopter touched down on the roof of Benton and Sons law firm, through which Riley’s grandfather and his company did business. They’d called that morning with urgent news— probably more technicalities to go over for a new merger. Riley hadn’t even made it to the office yet. He scratched at his stubble, but his fingers met smooth skin and he frowned. He really hated these meetings. They meant he had to remove the silver stud from his left ear and make sure the tattoos on his arms were covered. He might be a CEO, but these lawyers refused to do business with him when he looked like a ruffian. Riley stepped out of the

chopper, the still-churning blades whipping at his black hair. They’d have to deal with his long hair today. He hadn’t felt much need to chop it off yet. “Ah, Mr. Marston,” Mr. Benton, the team’s senior lawyer, said as he held out his hand for Riley the second he stepped inside the glass-walled room on the roof, which provided access to the stairs and elevator. “Sorry to pull you away from business so early this morning.” His eyes focused on Riley’s shoulder-length black hair and his lips thinned. “And from your morning grooming habits.” “No trouble.” Riley smirked as he followed the older man and the four other members of his staff inside the

building and to the elevator doors. “I’m still growing it out.” Actually, he was going to cut it all off soon, but meeting with Mr. Benton and seeing his look of disapproval were just too good to pass up. “What seems to be the trouble? Is it the merger again?” Riley watched Mr. Benton shift on his feet, and the others all lowered their heads. “Is the merger falling through?” “Please, Mr. Marston, it would be best to hold your questions until we are in my offices.” Something was wrong. Riley glanced at Ben, but his assistant shook his head. Riley reached up to tug on the silver stud in his ear then grimaced when he met only lobe. His heart started to

thunder in his chest as they rode the elevator down to the sixth floor and followed the team of lawyers to a large conference room. A few others were there, people Riley vaguely remembered that he was related to through his grandfather’s side. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember their names. Two older ladies, a young one about his age, and two old gentlemen. They barely registered Riley as he sat down where Mr. Benton indicated, Ben standing behind him, and waited. “We have summoned you all here this morning,” Mr. Benton stated at the head of the table after he took his seat, “to discuss some terrible news.” Riley leaned forward, pretty

sure everyone else could hear his heart pounding now, too. “We received word at onethirty this morning that Mr. Marston has passed away peacefully in his sleep. We are here to discuss his will, as he stipulated in his will that this should be completed within hours of his passing.” “What?” Riley snapped, shaking his head. “I just…I just talked to him. He’s not dead. He can’t be dead!” Ben gripped Riley’s shoulder as the others started to cry and protest as well. Mr. Benton raised his hands politely and told them he, too, was broken-hearted by the man’s passing. “However, I assure you, he has died. I am very sorry for your loss.”

The room shrank around Riley. There were sirens wailing in his head and flashing lights. He couldn’t be dead…that man was a tank! He’d been over six feet tall and a bear of a man, hearty and healthy all his life. And now he was gone? Riley’s fingers turned white as they clenched the edge of the table, trying to get a grip on something, anything, as Mr. Benton continued to speak. “Now, you are all here because you are mentioned in Mr. Marston’s will. If you will watch, I will play the video he has left.” Everyone quieted down, and Riley turned to face the large monitor on the far wall. One of the lawyers hit play,

and his grandfather’s rough face appeared on screen. Riley smiled instantly, seeing the life in those deep, blue eyes—same as his. The same strong face, same stubble of the beard. Once, his grandfather’s hair had even been black like Riley’s, though in the video it was silver, and—to his amusement— long. “Greetings everyone. This is the final will and testament of Riley Marston the first. I have several parts of my estate that I wish to leave to certain parties. They go as follows: To my two sisters, Bethany and Darcie, I am leaving my ranch in Texas and enough money for you both to live out your days happily.” The two older ladies held each

other and cried quietly. Riley remembered them now. They’d been very nice to him the few times he’d met them. They both acted just like their brother did. Kind and hard-headed. “To my partner in crime, Jim, and our getaway driver, Larry,” the older Riley said with a smirk, “I leave the fifth wheel, the truck, and my cabin in the Rockies for you to continue our yearly adventures. Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll be there to haunt your trips with my annoying quips and ways of getting us damnably lost.” Jim and Larry nodded and shook each other’s hands. “Thanks, friend,” Larry said, wiping a tear from his face.

“To the woman I spent my final few years with… First, I’m sorry if you are just now learning of my death. You travel so much, so I have a feeling you won’t be nearby when I go.” The young redhead smiled sadly and nodded, clutching a tissue in her hand. “But I want you to know that I have left you that home we were going to buy together outside the city, away from the noise of New York, so you have a place to go. And I’m leaving you two million to take care of yourself from here on out.” “What?” the woman snapped, and suddenly, the sadness was gone from her face. “That’s it?”

“Ma’am, if you please?” Mr. Benton whispered, holding a finger to his lips. Her face turned red, but she clamped her lips shut, and Riley felt a sickening clench in his gut. “Lastly, to my grandson and heir, Riley Marston the third, I leave you in charge of Cyber Vault, Inc., all of its assets, stocks, holdings, everything, along with the remainder of my estate.” His grandfather’s smile fell as he leaned into the camera. “However, I have one condition that you must adhere to.” What condition, Riley wondered. What could he possibly want me to do now? “From the date of this video,

you have two full months to find a wife and finally settle down. My legacy must carry on, and you need to move on, Riley. Make yourself happy and stop being a workaholic. That is my condition. Any other questions can be addressed by my lawyers. I love you all, and hopefully, I won’t be seeing any of you too soon.” The old man grinned, laughing a little to himself, then shut off the video. “I have…I have to get married,” Riley whispered in disbelief. “Seriously?” But his musings were quickly drowned out by the rantings of the redhead as she charged across the room and smacked him across the face.

Chapter 2 Riley nearly fell out of his chair from the hit. His face stung, and he cursed as he jumped away from the crazed woman. “What the fuck is your problem, lady?” “You bastard! You took everything that was supposed to be mine!” She raised her hand to hit him again, but Ben stepped in and shoved her back. “Get off of me! I demand you get off of me!” “Ms. Chandler, I must insist you calm yourself or I will have security escort you from the building,” Mr.

Benton yelled over her continued screaming. “Ms. Chandler!” “Fine!” She promptly sat back down and crossed her arms over her chest, huffing deep breaths in and out so fast that Riley thought she was going to pass out. Probably be a good thing if she did. He’d never met this woman before, but the way his grandfather had described her was definitely not like this. She’d been kind and sweet to him— and rich enough on her own, so never once did Riley think she’d turn into a greedy bitch when his grandfather died. His grandfather was dead. The words reverberated over and over in his mind, and he felt like someone had sucker punched him.

“Mr. Marston? Riley,” one of the older men was saying as he held out his hand. Jim, he thought, that one was Jim. “We are so terribly sorry. We know how much he meant to you and vice versa.” “Yes, if there’s anything you need, son,” Larry said, patting him on the back, “just give us a call. Night or day.” He handed Riley a card, then the two of them headed out of the conference room. The two old ladies could barely speak but hugged Riley close and told him they were also just a phone call away if he needed anything. And they’d send along some of their brother’s things to give Riley some comfort. He was numb when he finally

sat back down—making sure to stay out of hitting range of Ms. Chandler, who was still glaring at him as if hoping he’d drop dead. He was too much in shock about everything that had happened to really care. She could glare at him all she liked. Right now, all he cared about was figuring out why his grandfather had done what he had. He was forcing him to get married? There was no sense to it! And there was no way it was legal. Couldn’t be. As everyone else left the room, Mr. Benton pulled up a chair at the head of the table and flipped through some files. “Now then, Ms. Chandler. How about we address your concerns first, hmm? So we can get you out of this

office and back to your busy schedule.” “The video is wrong,” she snapped, setting her hands palms down on the table. “Ma’am, I can assure you, the video has not been doctored at all by anyone at this law firm—or anywhere else for that matter,” he said, interlocking his fingers and staring at her over them. “The amount he has left you should be more than enough to take care of yourself after retirement. That, it would seem, is why he left it to you.” He slid some papers out of the file towards her. “His will, in writing. If you’ll note, that’s his signature at the bottom of the page.” She grabbed the sheet, and

Riley watched her eyes skim the page. Her hands started to shake as she grew angrier. Finally, she slammed the page down and stood, slinging her black leather purse over her shoulder. “This isn’t over,” she hissed at Riley. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asked her. “You're going to fight me for my company? My estate?” “You have two months to marry,” she crooned at the door. “If you do not, guess who inherits everything from him? Good luck finding a woman desperate enough to give up her life for a stranger.” She walked out, slamming the door behind her. They listened to the angry click of her heels down the hall before they finally faded into silence.

Riley leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, wanting very much to disappear. He reached up to tug his earring but remembered at the last second it still wasn’t there. This was just too much to deal with right now. He wasn’t sure he could handle it. “Mr. Benton,” he asked, straightening in his chair. “Could I trouble you for a refreshment?” The old lawyer smiled kindly and nodded before pressing the intercom button on the phone on the table. “Susie? Would you mind bringing the decanter and three glasses from my office?” She said she’d be right in, and Riley thanked him. He guessed now he had a funeral to plan, to see his

grandfather laid to rest. Then he had to go and plan a wedding? “I still don’t understand what’s going on here,” he said, standing to unbutton his suit jacket and lay it over the back of his chair. “Is this actually happening? Do I really have to get married?” Susie knocked on the door before Mr. Benton could answer and came in with a small rolling cart. She left it parked beside the table and headed back out as Mr. Benton stood to pour them all glasses of whiskey. “This was a good year,” he told Riley and Ben as they took their glasses. “To your grandfather?”

“Cheers,” Riley muttered, clinked their glasses, then shot the whiskey back. The familiar burn trailed down his throat and warmed his stomach. He held the glass up for another and Mr. Benton told him to help himself. “So you’re telling me it’s legal then? What he did?” “I’m afraid so. There is nothing in his writings that will get you out of this deal. Either you marry or you lose everything and it goes to Ms. Chandler.” Ben sat down and started to look through the papers after asking Mr. Benton’s permission. “I thought this woman was nice and all. Why is she after your grandfather’s company?” “The company or the money?”

Riley asked. “From the look on her face, she wanted the company, but why?” Mr. Benton set down his glass with a raised brow. “Just what are you trying to say, young man?” “I’m saying that perhaps Ms. Chandler’s motives for getting to know the late Mr. Marston were not just out of the goodness of her heart,” Ben said. “If she truly loved him, she wouldn’t care about what he left her.” Mr. Benton laughed. “People change when those they love die. Some call it their way of dealing with grief.” “Or she’s after something else,” Ben said. “Mind if I look over this some more?”

“Please do. That is Riley’s copy, after all.” Riley tried to think back to anything his grandfather might have said against this woman, but he’d hardly ever spoken of her. Riley hadn’t even met her until today, at least not fully. He knew she was a high-powered attorney, but that was it. Not who she represented or where she went on all her travels. He’d never had time to think about it, but now that she might inherit everything from him—she could take the company! He would lose his position as CEO. That couldn’t happen. He’d built so much since his grandfather handed it over to him. And now everything was at

risk. Unless he tied the knot. His gut clenched as he tried to think of the women he knew now. None of them were friends—mostly one night stands, there to give him a bit of comfort when he needed it. Could he trust any of them with his life? With his company? No way in hell. They weren’t honest. They thought he was some shallow billionaire and treated him as such. They’d take his money and not care about him, ever. “Mr. Benton,” he said, mouth suddenly dry as he realized the seriousness of his predicament. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find a wife in two months, would you?” The old lawyer smiled. “I was

hoping you would ask. Since we received the will this morning, I’ve had Susie researching legitimate dating websites where one can find a suitable partner in a short amount of time. Why don’t I walk you to my office and you can speak with her there?” Riley nodded, downed a second whiskey, then followed Mr. Benton out. Ben followed close behind, the files and his friend’s jacket in hand. Susie was busy typing at her computer when they approached her desk. “Gentlemen, I think I have some choice sites that you might want to investigate,” she said and turned her monitor for them to see. “All you have to do, Mr. Marston, is create a profile and

start looking through them.” “Online dating. Damn,” Riley muttered, wishing he could feel even a bit excited. All he felt was numb and trapped. “Never thought you’d be on it, did you?” Ben said, patting him on the back. “Don’t worry, we’ll find someone for you. Can you e-mail these links to me, Susie?” “Of course.” Riley shrugged back into his jacket and checked his watch. “Ben, we need to make calls for funeral homes and be sure everything is taken care of.” “Actually, sir, that has already been taken care of,” Mr. Benton told him. “Your grandfather had all the

arrangements ready to go for the day he finally left us. The information is in the back of the file. I believe the wake is tomorrow—here, of course. He wanted to be buried next to his son.” “Good,” Riley whispered, throat suddenly tight. His parents’ graves. He hadn’t been there in years. Not since he buried someone else so close to his heart. “Good, then. Thank you, Mr. Benton, for everything.” “Of course. Just do me one favor before you attend his funeral?” Riley grinned, already knowing what it would be. “Don’t worry, I’ll appear a total gentlemen for him. The hair will get cut.” Mr. Benton’s lips turned

upward in a gentle smile of approval. “Good. Then call me if you have any questions. I will be at the funeral to send him off.” Riley thanked him and Susie again then headed back to the elevator that would take them to the roof. Ben flipped through the file as they rode up, though Riley wasn’t sure what he was hoping to find in the pages. But his friend was always better at the legal end of things. That was why he’d hired him as his assistant. Ben could’ve gone on to be a lawyer for Fortune 500 companies or even the government, but instead, he’d stayed by his friend’s side through everything. One day, he’d have to do something nice for him.

Maybe after the wedding. A wedding. Riley was getting married. The clock was ticking on him to find a wife. Where the hell was he going to start? “So I guess after your meeting this morning with the board members to announce your grandfather’s death, we’ll start the wife hunt,” Ben said as they boarded the helicopter. Riley cursed. He’d completely forgotten about telling everyone else the news. It was going to be a somber few days at the company. He’d have to make sure everyone took the time they needed to grieve their founder’s loss. Riley Marston the first had touched many lives. He’d been generous in his days as

CEO and passed those morals down to his grandson. Now, Riley really had big shoes to fill. He was officially on his own. “Let’s get this over with,” he said, and they flew back to Cyber Vault, Inc. where he called the staff together and informed them of his grandfather’s death. There were many sad faces and tears, shaking of hands and hugs. Riley had a hard time keeping it together until he made it back to the sanctuary of his office. He told Ben he needed a few minutes, closed the door, then sat down in his chair and cried like a little kid.

Chapter 3 A very well-groomed Riley with short, gelled hair stepped out of the town car at the funeral home in the suburbs of New York. Riley had spent all last night sifting through images of women who were looking for a quick marriage, just as he was. A quick way to get hitched. He’d skimmed through so many profiles that he’d lost track of who was who. Ben had tried to be helpful, but how was he supposed to pick the person he'd spend the rest of his life with? And in one night? Ben had read through every fine-print detail of the will. It even said that Riley could not get divorced for at least five years or the entire marriage

would be null and void. Which meant Ms. Chandler would once again be in line to get everything. That woman…She irritated Riley more than she should, but after what Ben had said about her, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about why she really wanted the company so badly. She had no ties to Cyber Vault, Inc., or at least none Riley could find. Ben had promised to do more digging that night while Riley attended the wake. He’d wanted his friend by his side, but they needed the information more. His great aunts had come, at least, and stayed close as he entered the room and saw his grandfather’s dead body for the first time.

“You just let us speak with everyone, all right, dearie?” Darcie said, squeezing his hand. Her greying hair was done up in a bun, and she patted it to make sure it still looked all right. “Yes, we’ll take care of everything,” Bethany said. “I’ll be all right, really.” “Oh, Riley, we know how much he meant to you. Tonight, you just need to worry about saying goodbye. You don’t need to talk to anyone… Especially that creature,” Darcie snapped, her teeth rattling in her mouth. “The nerve of her to show her face here.” Riley glanced up and saw Ms.

Chandler walk through the door. “Well, she was kind of his girlfriend.” “No matter. No woman of character smacks the grandson of her dead lover,” Bethany said. “She should not be here and— who is that? Who did she bring with her?” “Is that William Yancey?” Riley asked, taking in Ms. Chandler’s short black skirt and tight blouse. Not exactly what one should wear to the funeral of her lover. He turned his eyes to the man beside her and frowned. He recognized the man, but from where? He was dressed just as sharply as she was —coal-black suit, pressed white shirt, and blue silk tie. His hair was slicked

back, and he carried a cigar in his jacket pocket. Two cigars. Ms. Chandler had her arm tucked through his, and her eyes were red as if she’d been crying. Riley pulled out his cell phone and casually raised it up as if to check a message, but instead, clicked a picture of the two of them and sent it to Ben. It only took a few minutes before his friend texted back and said he’d look into it, along with whatever else this Chandler woman might be involved in. Riley looked over the full name in the text. Diane. He remembered now. Her name was Diane Chandler, power-attorney who left others strewn in her wake. She never lost a case or disappointed a client, and grossed at

least twenty million last year. She had no business worrying about his grandfather’s money, yet for some reason she did. “If you’ll excuse me, Aunts,” he said. “I think I’ll go say hello.” “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Bethany asked, patting the cheek Diane had smacked just yesterday. “I don’t think she’ll try anything here. Too many witnesses,” he said, nodding to others around the funeral parlor. It was packed with friends of his grandfather’s and those from the company. If she raised a hand to him, he was pretty sure she’d be dragged out kicking and screaming. Slowly, he made his way

through the crowd, shaking hands and accepting condolences as he made his way to Diane’s side. She held onto the man’s arm tightly, as if afraid she might fall over. There was a hankie in her hand, but Riley didn’t buy it. Who wore six-inch heels to a wake? “Diane, I’m glad to see you made it. Again, I am so sorry for your loss,” he said as she turned to face him. He held out a hand and waited. “Same to you,” she said, but he felt the steel behind her words. Her grip was cold as she took his hand. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be up to attending this evening.” “Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

She quickly pulled her hand back and wiped abruptly at her eyes where fresh tears started to form. Fresh and fake, he thought as she directed the gentleman at her side to Riley. “And I assume you two have met.” “Ah, pleasure and all. Horrible circumstances, though,” Yancey said, a bit gruff. “Yes, horrible. I didn’t think you and my grandfather got along?” “Not in person, no, but we had our moments when we weren’t competing for the same clients.” Riley, a little ruffled, stiffened and stood straighter. “As you do with me. Constantly.” “Yes, of course. I’m sorry

about that, but business is business.” “So, are you a friend of Diane’s?” “Yes, we met through a legal issue my company had.” Riley smirked. He knew all about the troubles Yancey Securities had had in the past. They were always under investigation for one thing or another. “Of course, a legal issue. I’m sure Diane was your legal counsel, too.” “Yes. Do you have a problem with whom I do business?” Diane snapped. Riley’s anger flared as he shook the man’s hand and forced a smile onto his face. “No, of course not. Well again, Diane, I’m sorry for your loss. I

will see you both tomorrow at the funeral, I assume?” They said they’d be there, and Riley backed away and hurried from the parlor. He needed to get away and call Ben. Diane was definitely after his grandfather’s company. Yancey Security was Cyber Vault, Inc.’s biggest competition. They’d been after their trade secrets for years and even tried poaching some of their clients and best techs. Thankfully, Riley and his grandfather treated them too well for them to ever consider leaving. He pulled out his cell and called Ben. “Is that Yancey?” Ben said the second he answered. “One and the same,” Riley

said. “I just shook hands with the guy.” “What the hell is he doing hanging out with her?” “I don’t know, but all those years she’s spent with my grandfather at his ranch? You think she was spying on him?” “But he didn’t work at the office anymore,” Ben said. “What could she possibly hope to gain?” Riley scratched his head, messing up his hair. “I don’t know, but she’s up to something. We’ll have to keep an eye on her. And I want protection put on that ranch. Darcie and Bethany will be moving in. If he left anything there, I don’t want them to be in danger.”

“What danger, Riley? You think Diane would do something that crazy?” “I don’t know what to think right now. I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” “Course. I won’t miss the funeral. Just get through tonight, then tomorrow, then we can get drunk.” That sounded perfect to Riley. Get drunk, find a wife, get married, and hopefully, stop this Chandler woman from stealing everything he had left of his family’s legacy. *** Riley awoke the following morning to thunderclouds rolling in over the city. For once, it looked like the prediction of rain was accurate. He

dressed in his best suit, fixed his hair, and put in his silver stud. Mr. Benton might not approve, but he’d gotten that piercing the same day his grandfather did. On his eighteenth birthday. Bit of an impulse on both their parts. It made him smile, and he felt his chest tighten when Ben knocked on his upper-floor penthouse door. The town car was there, ready to take him to say goodbye to the man who had become his second father. He wasn’t sure how he would make it through the day, but somehow, he’d manage. Ben shook his head and patted Riley on the back as he accompanied him to the elevator, down to the ground floor, and into the car. Riley had questions for him about Diane

and the candidates to be his future wife, but he stopped himself from asking any of them. Now was not the time for that. There was a bottle of whiskey in the backseat, and Ben held up a black flask. “Here, all ready to go,” he said as he tucked it in Riley’s hand. “Thanks, man, really…for everything.” “He was like family to me, too. Hell, he’s the one that let you hire me in the first place.” Ben laughed. “I was close to being a screw-up, and he let me have my second chance.” Second chances. Maybe that was why his grandfather did what he did. Making Riley get married. Forcing him to step away from the lifestyle he’d

fallen into. Giving him a second chance at finding that special someone. The drive out of the city and to the cemetery wasn’t long, and Riley wasn’t prepared when they arrived to step out and see not only his grandfather’s freshly placed tombstone, but those of his parents…and the woman he loved. Ben got out first and let him have a moment. Riley opened the flask and drank deep, trying to steel his nerves. He didn’t visit as much as he should have. He seemed to be always making up some excuse or another, but today, he didn’t have an excuse. Didn’t have a choice. He had to face them all and pray that, wherever they were, they weren’t disappointed in him. Especially

his Meredith. He couldn’t stand to think that she could see the past few years of his life and what he’d done with it. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to the stale air in the car. The anniversary was only a month away. The night that changed his life forever. The accident he couldn’t stop from happening…the sirens, the flashing lights…the sound of her flatlining— “Riley, are you ready?” Ben asked as he opened the car door again. “Hmm? Yeah…yeah, I’m ready.” He scooted out of the car and stood just as the first few drops of rain started to fall. Figures it would rain.

His grandfather had loved the rain, loved when storms would roll in. Riley smiled up into the dark clouds and wondered if anyone else watched him, too. He headed towards the hearse to help the others carry the casket to the gravesite. His grandfather’s two closest friends and several of the other board members of the company were there to help. The second the weight was in his hands, Riley felt tears sting his eyes as they followed the priest to the site and set the casket in place. “Good morning,” the priest began as everyone gathered close. “We are here today to say our final goodbye to Riley Marston the first. He was loved by many, family and friends alike…”

He went on and on. Riley stopped listening to his words. All he heard was the weeping of those around him and scattered, disjointed whispered words of comfort. It felt like it had dragged on forever before the priest said the final prayer and Riley was asked to toss the first handful of dirt onto the lowered casket. Slowly, he reached down and scooped soil up into his hands. Slightly dampened by the rain, it felt cool and strangely comforting. He sprinkled it gently, then stepped to the side, allowing others to do the same. Hands were shaken as he said goodbye to everyone who had attended, saying they would see him back at the company where they were hosting a

lunch for everyone. He saw Diane and her friend William head straight for their car afterwards, not even bothering to say hello. Not that Riley cared. The rain started to fall harder, and soon, he was soaked from head to foot. As everyone else ran to their vehicles, he spread his arms wide, turned his face towards the sky and laughed. It was the perfect way to end the funeral. Ben came over, and together, they stood there as the casket was lowered all the way into the grave. “Come on, let’s go get a drink,” Ben said. “Or five,” Riley muttered. They headed back to the car, but something caught his eye across the path. “Ben, is that a woman?”

“Yeah, she’s getting soaked, too.” “Here,” he said shrugging out of his jacket. “Take this to her. I have to say hello to someone else really quick.” “Of course,” Ben said, a bit confused, but he rushed over to the woman standing near another gravesite. Riley turned back to the tombstones behind him and walked until he reached Meredith’s. Someone had placed fresh flowers at her grave, but there was no indication of who. He bent down and kissed the wet stone. “I love you, Meredith. Promise I’ll visit again soon.”

Chapter 4 It was late afternoon by the time Phoebe made it back to her small apartment in Brooklyn. She was soaked from head to toe, including the jacket that some strange man in the cemetery had loaned her. She’d tried to turn him down, but he’d insisted and then run off back into the storm. Once the door was bolted behind her, she took it off and shook it. “Damn, this is ruined,” she muttered. “What is this, silk? Shit.” Far better than anything she could hope to afford—ever. Not that clothes were her first concern right now. She traipsed through the apartment, dripping water everywhere as she undid

her long, auburn hair that was already starting to kink and curl from the rain. No point in trying to fix it now. “Mom? Are you awake? I’m back home,” she called out as she dropped the wet jacket in her bathtub and walked to what had been her bedroom. Now it was her mother’s room since she was unable to care for herself any more. “Mom?” She knocked on the closed door, but there was no answer. Her mom always answered. “Mom, are you awake?” She tried the door and found it locked. Phoebe’s stomach plummeted. If her mother had an episode while she was gone, who knew what she’d done.

“Mom, I need you to open the door. It’s Phoebe. Come on, Mom!” Still no answer. She ran to the living room and grabbed the key out of the dish by the front door, sliding and slipping back down the hall in her hurry. The key seemed to stick in the lock a few times, probably from her fumbling hands, before she managed to get it unlocked and yank the door open. “Mom! Oh, my God,” she cried. Her mom lay on the floor, her head bleeding. Phoebe scrambled for the phone on the bedside table and dialed 911 as she checked for a pulse. “Hello? Yes, my mom, she fell…her head’s bleeding. I don’t know how long she’s been like this.” She spat out her address

then did as the operator said, grabbing a towel to try and staunch the oozing wound. She knew she shouldn’t have left her alone again, but the doctors had said the new medicine would help... She’d rip them a new one when they got to the hospital. “Hang on, Mom, help’s coming,” she whispered. “Just hang on.” *** It took fifteen minutes for the ambulance to arrive. Phoebe watched as they loaded her mom on a stretcher and carried her down the two flights of stairs. The ambulance ride seemed to take forever, and when they got to the hospital, she was directed to the waiting room while her mother’s head was

examined. She’d demanded to see her mother’s doctor and was told he was on his way and would be in shortly. Phoebe took the clipboard and sat down in a huff, filling out the paperwork for her mother. Her clothes were still wet, and she started to shiver from the cold air blowing through the waiting room. The writing on the page was reduced to scribbles as her hand shook from the cold…from everything. This ER visit was going to cost her again. Money she didn’t have, and neither did her mother. “Phoebe, what are you doing here?” She glanced up, confused, then tried to smile when she saw her friend,

Charlotte, standing there. “Hey, I didn’t know you were working today.” Charlotte was a nurse in pink scrubs today. She hurried over and gave Phoebe a hug just as the tears started to fall. “Your mom in again? What happened this time?” “I left her alone, went to visit Dad,” Phoebe whispered through the tears. “I was gone a few hours, but I thought she’d be fine. They said she’d be fine, but she locked herself in the bedroom and fell! She hit her head. She could have died! She almost did.” “It’s all right, I’m sure she’ll be fine.” But Phoebe shook her head. “Something else is wrong with her.”

“Is her doctor here yet?” She shook her head as she glanced around. “Whatever medicine he put her on isn’t working. We have to do something else, and they haven’t told me anything.” “Okay, just sit right here. I’ll go see what I can find out, all right?” Phoebe nodded and watched her friend go to the nurse’s station to see what she could dig up. Charlotte had been helping her through so much lately, and Phoebe wasn’t even sure she deserved a friend like that. Things had been rough since her mom got sick and her father died of a heart attack that came out of nowhere. She’d been left to deal with everything. She had no other

family, and no one close except Charlotte. A few minutes later, Charlotte came back over and sat down with a chart. “They’re stitching up the wound now. It looked worse than it was. I think she passed out from shock more than anything else. She should be finished soon, and her doctor just entered the building.” “Thank God. He better be coming up to see her immediately.” “He is, but you’re freezing. Let me get you my change of clothes. I’ll be right back. Then you can go see your mom and him, all right?” Phoebe really couldn’t argue. She wanted to be able to yell at Doctor

Chambers without her teeth chattering. Kind of took away the intimidating edge she wanted to have. Not that she was all that scary. She was barely five-footthree and thin. There was a time she didn’t look so skinny, so pale. That was a long, long time ago. Twenty minutes later, she wore a fresh pair of jeans and a sweater and was marching towards her mom’s room where Doctor Chambers stood, looking over her vitals. “Ah, Phoebe, there you are,” he said when she entered. “I’m sorry this happened.” “Again…sorry this happened again,” she snapped as she hurried to her mom’s bedside. There was a bandage on

her forehead, but other than that, she looked perfectly healthy. Phoebe was a spitting image of her mother, minus the streaks of grey and white that ran through her mom’s hair. “We have to do something else. Please, there has to be another drug to stop this.” Doctor Chambers sighed and went to close the door. “Please, have a seat.” Phoebe let go of her mom’s hand and went to the small table and chairs in the corner. He sat down across from her and took off his glasses, looking much older all of a sudden. “Phoebe, we’ve talked about this. Your mother has a tumor in her brain.”

“Yes, I know.” “But what you don’t seem to understand is that drugs will not help her. Not in this state.” He reached out a gentle hand and patted hers. “She needs surgery. The tumor is in a place it can be removed, but it might not stay that way for long. If it continues to grow…if it gets any worse, we will lose our chance.” Phoebe’s eyes filled with hot tears she quickly wiped away, sniffing hard to try and stay in control. “I can’t afford that surgery,” she whispered. “Mom’s money is gone, my savings are dried up…I can’t even get a loan from the bank.” “Her insurance will help—”

“Not enough, and the last time I talked with them, they told me there was a chance they might not cover anything. I can’t…I can’t help her.” Doctor Chambers held her hand as she cried. They’d had this conversation before, numerous times, but Phoebe knew there was nothing he could do. This was the way the world worked. She couldn’t pay for the surgery. She was going to watch her mother suffer before the tumor finally killed her and put an end to it all. “When I can take her home?” she asked when the crying stopped. “In two days. I want to hold her and make sure there was no severe head damage from the fall.”

Phoebe nodded as she stood and grabbed her purse. “Thank you, Doctor. Really.” “I’ll try another prescription for you. It might hold off any attacks, but Phoebe, that surgery is going to be the only thing that saves your mother.” She knew it, but what could she do? She kissed her mom—who was still asleep—goodbye and headed out the door. Charlotte was waiting for her in the hall. “How’d it go?” “She’s not doing well,” Phoebe said. “I have to get the money for that surgery.” “You can’t work anymore,” her friend argued. “You’re already barely getting any sleep at night! Why don’t I

loan you the money?” “No way, and no offense, but you don’t have that much,” she said as she pressed the button for the elevator. “I lied to Doctor Chambers about the insurance. They won’t cover Mom, not anymore. They’re getting ready to drop her.” “What? They can’t do that.” Phoebe hung her head. “Apparently they can, and I can’t get her on mine.” She’d been working for her company for years, barely making ends meet. She was just an office monkey really, working in the archives room. The assistant to the big wigs who actually made the money. But when the

time came for her to need help and ask for it, they’d told her she could either find a new job or stop whining about her salary. That was Monday. She’d taken a week of vacation just to piss them off. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll just have to go back to the bank and plead for a loan somehow.” “Actually…why don’t I come over after my shift? I have something that might help you out,” her friend said. “And I’ll bring the wine?” “Another one of your crazy schemes?” “Maybe, but this one actually might work. See you in a bit.” Charlotte hurried off as the elevator doors opened and Phoebe

stepped in. She wondered how many others right beside her were in desperate situations. What were they doing about it? What could any of them do about it?

Chapter 5 Around six, there was a knock at Phoebe’s door. Charlotte was right on time and, as promised, came in toting six bottles of wine and a bottle of tequila. “I didn’t know what you’d want, so I brought both,” she said as Phoebe laughed. “I think I’ll start with the wine, for now.” “Good choice.” “So, mind filling me in on this great idea of yours?” Charlotte grinned as she pulled out two wine glasses from the kitchen cabinet and opened a bottle of deep red. “First you need a drink.”

“That bad, huh?” Phoebe laughed as she took the glass and sipped the liquid. It went down smooth and fruity. “You waste this expensive stuff on me.” “You’re worth it.” They made their way, bottle of wine in hand, to the couch and plopped down. Not that there was anywhere else to sit, really. Phoebe’s tiny little place had been perfect for her, but when her parents moved in, the walls seemed to close in. Maybe she’d try to find a new place. Yeah? And with what money are you going to do that? Quit dreaming. “Phoebe, you okay?” “Yeah, sorry, just…I don’t think I like this place anymore.”

“Hmm, I think you just need a man in your life,” her friend said, twirling her blonde hair around a finger. She glanced around the living room, then her eyes landed on the suit jacket hanging on a peg by the door. “Speak of the devil.” “What?” Phoebe watched her jump up and grab the suit jacket. It’d finally dried out in the tub so she’d hung it, hoping to stop it from getting wrinkled. “Oh, that.” “Yes, that. Who’s is this?” “It’s not what you think, promise.” Charlotte laughed in disbelief. “Whatever. You’re just holding out on me.”

“No, some nice guy at the cemetery gave it to me when it started raining,” she said, getting up to try and take it back from Charlotte. “I don’t even know the guy’s name.” “Well, whoever he is, he’s got money. Did you feel this material? It’s like butter! And tailored, too. Damn, why couldn’t you have gotten a number?” Phoebe shrugged as she hung the jacket back up gently. “Why? So I can beg him for money?” Charlotte choked on her wine, and Phoebe turned around to glare at her. “Oh no, I know what you want me to do,” she hissed. “You want me to be a gold digger!”

“I never said that,” Charlotte said as she sipped her wine. “I never said that at all.” Phoebe shook her head as she grabbed her wine and shot it back. Then she poured another glass and chugged that too, as her friend watched, wideeyed and worried. “I can’t do that, Charlotte, I can’t! I haven’t even…you know…” “You’re a virgin still? Jesus, Phoebe, how long are you going to hold out! You’re almost twenty-five!” “Yeah, well, the right guy just hasn’t come along.” “The right guy. You’ll be waiting forever. Listen, I’m not saying you have to have sex with the guy right

off the bat, but just look at this.” Charlotte went back to the kitchen, pulled her laptop out of her bag and made Phoebe sit down next to her on the couch. It took a second for her to pull up the website, but then she set the laptop in Phoebe’s lap and took her wine glass. “Here. I found this the other day and thought about doing it myself, but right now, I think you need this more than I do.” “Billionaire Future Husbands…seriously? What the hell is this site?” “Basically, the richest of the rich put up their profiles to find the love of their lives, or something that looks like love. Whatever. The point is it’s a

dating website strictly for rich men. Super rich men. Men that could afford to pay for your mom’s surgery.” Phoebe started to scroll through the pictures of available men. Most of them weren’t too bad looking, and she started to read through their profiles until a message popped up on the screen saying she had to create one of her own first. “Oh no, I can’t sign up for this. What if someone finds out?” “Like who? Your neighbor whose been hitting on you for years? Come on, Phoebe, what do you have to lose? Find a rich guy, get married, then divorce him once your mom’s surgery is paid for.” “That’s horrible. I can’t do

that.” “Desperate times call for desperate measures, Phoebe. I’ll help you get it set up, then we’ll start hunting you down a man. Just make up an alias if you’re that worried. You can always tell the guy your real name later.” Red flags were popping up one after the other inside Phoebe’s mind as she started to fill out the required fields, using her middle name as her first and her mother’s maiden name as her last. Technically it wasn’t wrong… technically. She did it, trying not to overthink what she was doing. This was just morally wrong. She was not a gold digger. She worked for her money, worked hard to get where she was.

Having someone take care of her and pay for things? She wasn’t used to that. She’d wanted to find love, settle down with a guy who knew what it meant to work, too, and live that hard life. Not someone who’d been spoiled since they were born into daddy’s rich world. But then again… She finished filling out her profile, but when it came time to attach a picture, she skipped that step and clicked enter. Once she’d set it up, it let her start looking again. “Oh, my God,” she muttered. “Do you see who’s on here?” There, smiling as if he was the best thing in the world, was Phoebe’s boss. “I know you hate him, but he is a bit of a looker.”

Phoebe bit off a laugh. “William Yancey? He’s an asshole and he’s like twenty years older than me. Treats everyone beneath him like shit. That, and I found some weird files on my desk the other day. Asked him about them and he sort of started to freak out… think he’s a bit on the crazy side. No wonder he’s on here. He’s got a new bimbo every other week!” “Careful. You’re on this site now,” Charlotte teased. “Someone might think you’re just a bimbo, too.” That stopped Phoebe’s hand on the mousepad. “I can’t do this. It’s going to make me look horrible! I mean really, Charlotte, do I have to sink this low?” Charlotte told her to hold that

thought and went back to the small kitchen. She came back with two shot glasses and the bottle of tequila. “Do you want your mom to get her surgery or not? This is the only way for you to get that money, Phoebe. As your friend, I’m telling you this is the only legal way to get it and get it fast.” Phoebe took the shot of clear liquid. “To desperate times,” she muttered. “That’s the spirit!” Charlotte shot hers back, too, then poured two more. “Now, where were we?” *** Phoebe giggled as she shot the last of the tequila. “Did you see this one?” she asked, her words slurring as

she pointed at the screen. Charlotte scooted closer, laughing uncontrollably too as she squinted at the image. “He’s got a dead cat on his head!” “Oh, man, you should go with him. Look how much money he’s worth!” “Nope, not happening…hey, we’re out of tequila.” Phoebe held the empty bottle upside down and pouted. “Well, crap.” “Wait, scroll back up.” “What, what did you see?” “I’m not sure…no way. That’s the guy who’s like Bruce Wayne-level rich! Click on him!” Charlotte did it for Phoebe when she took too long, and they both stared. There was no picture of the guy,

though. “Hmm, that’s too bad.” “Wait, at least read about him.” Phoebe wasn’t sure if she was able to read too well, but she did her best. It didn’t give too much on his background but listed the charities he donated to, what he did in the company, etc. There was a bit of talk about what he liked to do for fun…and a timeframe for when he needed to find a wife. “Charlotte, look!” “What?” “He has to be married in two months!” “Does it say why?” Phoebe scrolled down the page but there was nothing. “Nope, nothing. Oh, man,” she muttered as her stomach

suddenly clenched painfully. “Think… think I’m gonna be sick.” She set the laptop to the side and bolted to the bathroom. The tequila, along with everything else, came rushing back up. A few minutes later, she threw cold water on her face then staggered back to the living room. Charlotte still had the laptop open, but she’d fallen asleep and was snoring lightly. Phoebe laughed, not quite sure what she was doing, then made her way to the easy chair. She got in, popped the recliner, and let sleep take her.

Chapter 6 Phoebe woke to a bright light peeking through the blinds and the loud sound of someone banging pots around in her kitchen. Everything hurt, and she groaned as she rolled off the chair and onto the floor with a painful thud. “Well, good morning, sunshine,” Charlotte called from the kitchen. “Meh,” Phoebe muttered, wiping drool from her lip. “Oh, now that’s attractive. We should add that to your profile.” Phoebe glanced at her, confused, as she made her way to the kitchen island and sat down heavily on a

stool. “Profile? What are you talking about?” “The profile that you made last night. Already have quite a few messages to sort through,” Charlotte said, turning the laptop around for her to see. “Even got one from that last guy we looked at. Your Bruce Wayne friend.” Phoebe felt the blood drain from her face as she grabbed the laptop, nearly breaking the screen. “I thought this was a bad dream, a really bad dream…why did you let me do this? Everyone’s going to think I’m a freaking gold digger!” She checked through her inbox to find twenty e-mails just from this morning. “Charlotte, what the hell were we thinking?”

“That your mom needs that surgery and you need money. Unless you want to work yourself to death for the next two months, this is your only option.” Her friend walked around to her side and shrugged. “Besides, some of these guys don’t look too bad.” She was right, as much as Phoebe didn’t want to admit it. Anna— the name she’d used as her alias— apparently did have something to attract a few of these guys, considering they hadn’t even seen a picture yet. Maybe she’d respond to just a few…maybe. “I have to head to the hospital,” Charlotte said, pulling her out of her trance. “What, already? How come

you aren’t hungover?” “Because unlike you, I’m a pro.” She gave Phoebe a quick hug and said she’d call her with updates on her mom in exchange for updates on the manhunt. The door closed behind her, and Phoebe got up to lock it before she took one more glance at the screen and then headed for a shower. She needed to be fully awake before she dealt with any of that craziness. An hour later, and feeling slightly better, she headed back to the kitchen and took the laptop to the couch. Charlotte would be back for it later, she knew. Phoebe’s computer didn’t exactly work too well. If ever. Not that she had money to fix it.

“All right, then, I guess I’ll just start with the first one from last night,” she said as she clicked on the first message. The man was thirty, with dark hair and green eyes. He was worth quite a bit of money and owned a law firm in Boston. She skimmed through the other details, then back up at his picture. Boston was a bit far from where she wanted to go, so she politely messaged him back and said it was too far away because she didn’t have a way to get to Boston. She went through a few more emails, a few making her laugh until she cried at the age of these men. Sixty and seventy years old? She was desperate, but she still had class…and a bit of self-

respect. She made a pot of coffee after another hour of looking before she finally reached the e-mail from the last guy they’d checked out. There was no picture, and when she searched his name online, nothing popped up. But it said he worked for one of the top internet security firms in the country. “Hmm, guess you can’t show your face,” she mused. “Or your name… wonder if yours is fake too then, Mr. Wayne.” She thought about replying but a new message came in, distracting her. “Well now, who are you?” His picture popped up, and she leaned back into the couch cushions, enjoying the sight of him. He had buzzed

hair, but it looked good on him in his black suit and red shirt. His smile was gentle and almost sweet. The brown of his eyes was light, a bit on the hazel side. Phoebe read through his profile and nodded in approval to find him in the city. Another message window popped up on the screen. There was just one word typed in it: Hello. He’s online right now? He can see me? Her hands froze on the laptop as she glanced around the apartment as if someone would see. Quit being stupid, Phoebe. Take a breath. He couldn’t actually see her, so what was the harm in chatting a little? She clicked in the box

and said hi back. It took a second before another message popped up: I was just checking my messages and saw you on. Hope you don’t mind, lunch break. “Ah, lunch break,” she mused and told him she didn’t mind. She was currently on vacation from work. “What is it you do at your company?” she whispered out loud as she typed. She took a long sip of her coffee and waited before another message came up. He told her he was VP of marketing within Grayson and Grayson Holdings. Phoebe nearly spit her coffee all over the computer. That was the largest stocks and accounting business in the state, and he was the VP? Why was

he even talking to someone like her? He didn’t even know what she looked like! “Just keep it together,” she muttered. “Stay calm. This is what you were hoping for, right?” Where’s Charlotte when I need her? She glanced around the apartment, trying to figure out what to say, when her eyes found a picture of her and her mother from just a few years ago. They’d been happy, been a family. Now, she was watching her mother die a slow and painful death. Losing a bit of herself every day. She couldn’t stand to watch that happen. Not when there was something she could do about it. “Okay, Phoebe, just be a

sophisticated version of yourself,” she said, then started typing. “Just keep it simple.” An hour later, Phoebe signed off and closed the laptop, any thought of messaging her mysterious other man forgotten. She needed to call Charlotte, check in on her mother and then…then she had to get ready for a dinner date. Tonight.

Chapter 7 Riley’s head pounded as he buried it beneath the pillows on his bed again. Too much…why do we always have to drink too much? He had no idea what time it was or where Ben had gotten to. All he remembered was stumbling around the place after his grandfather’s funeral, whiskey bottle in hand, muttering curses about women and marriage. There was a time he’d had dreams about such things. A time when that was all he wanted. A wedding to the woman he loved. Then the accident happened, and all thoughts of happy endings disappeared in a puff of smoke.

A door opened somewhere in the expansive penthouse and he cringed. “Go away!” “You don’t even know who it is.” Riley lifted his head, wincing at the pain of moving his head, and opened one eye enough to see Ben standing in the doorway to his bedroom. “Yeah, I do. My worst nightmare. I don’t want to talk about it. Go away.” “Sorry, but it’s three in the afternoon.” Ben strode across the room and, before Riley could manage to fully hide his face again, he slid the curtains back to reveal floor-to-ceiling windows and the bright afternoon sunlight. “Damn it!” Riley tried to roll

over but was already on the edge of the bed. With a loud thud, he landed on the hardwood floor as Ben came back around the side and shook his head. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear it.” Riley pulled himself slowly to his feet and stood there, a bit unsteady, as Ben tried not to laugh at his friend. “Listen, I know this is rough, but we have to start looking through these women.” Riley waved him off and staggered to the bathroom to relieve himself. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he flinched. Man, I haven’t looked this bad since Meredith died. There were heavy bags under his eyes, and his scruff was coming back in,

dark and already thick. He looked wan, almost sick. When was the last time he was this hungover? He might like to hang out with women, but he usually didn’t drink too much. After what happened, it had been a personal decision. He smoothed a hand over his rough face, then messed up his already messy hair some more. He called out to Ben that he was taking a shower and they could go over the issue of marriage when he was a bit more presentable. It didn’t take long for the water to heat up, and Riley moved under the spray after he shed his crumpled funeral suit. He hadn’t even changed before he and Ben made it back to the penthouse and drank away his sorrows. They’d

laughed, he’d cried, and at some point, they’d started to talk about marriage and what it would it would have been like if Meredith had lived. He would’ve already been married to the woman of his dreams. There’d be no need to find someone else. And yet, she was dead and now, and his grandfather was forcing him to move on. He was never one for tantrums, but all he wanted to do was throw one. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Hadn’t he dealt with enough? Lost enough? The hot water dripped down his chest and over his head, covering his eyes. It felt good just to stand there in the

humid air. Part of him thought that maybe he should just turn down the offer and hand everything over to Diane. Run away from the city, start over. Somewhere people didn’t know who he was. He had enough of his own money stashed away. He could live anywhere he wanted. Work for another company remotely. Hell, he could start his own company if he really wanted to. But could he really leave behind everything his grandfather had built? No, I can’t, because that damn woman is involved with Yancey, he thought, growing angry. His hands curled into fists to think she’d dated his grandfather, acted like she was in love

with him, cared for him, yet showed up at the man’s funeral with the enemy. They had to be planning something. Riley wasn’t going to leave town until he knew what. After cleaning himself up, he got out of the shower, dried, and threw on some dark jeans and a black t-shirt. He thought about shaving but decided against it as he put his stud back in his ear. If he was going to find a woman to spend the rest of his life with, he wanted to look like himself. Not some damn suit. “All right, Ben,” he said as he headed to the kitchen. Ben had files laid out all across the counter and sat, calmly sipping a glass of whiskey. He slid one to Riley, but he shook his head. “I’ll

hold off for a bit.” Ben’s brow twitched, and he grinned. “Suit yourself.” He pointed to the files before them. “So, these are some of the possibilities I’ve found for you. Each one is pretty acceptable for what you want, and most of them are also looking to be married sooner rather than later. They don’t mind a short courtship.” “Really? Let me guess, they all need money for something.” “Most likely, but we really don’t have a choice.” “Great. I’m going to marry a freaking gold digger who’s going to take all my money,” Riley muttered as he skimmed over the profiles. Most of them

were beautiful, definitely nice to look at, but their eyes were cold. He slid one to the side then another, muttering about their professions, if they even had one. Most of these women were unemployed. “This is going to be a long two months. And you couldn’t find any loopholes? Anywhere?” Ben reached for the file that contained the old man’s will. “No, not one. Your grandfather was very thorough in eliminating any chance you might have to get out of this deal. Either you marry or you lose everything to do with his company and the inheritance.” “Damn.” He didn’t even know where to start. The women staring back at him from their pictures…none of them

looked like they could handle being his wife. Not that he was crazy by any means, but he wanted a partner, someone to whom he could talk, whom he could trust. These women looked like all the ones who wound up in his bed at night and snuck out by morning. “I can’t do this on an empty stomach. Need some food. Want Chinese or Italian? I’m going to order in…what?” “I sort of maybe…set you up on a date tonight.” “Ben…seriously, man? Come on.” “What? You are on a time constraint, and I know you. You’ll wait ‘til the last second, and then you’ll be really unhappy,” he argued. “Just go on

the damn date. What’s the harm in it?” “She could be crazy, that’s the harm,” he said as he snatched the file off the table that Ben indicated. “Trisha? Really, her name is Trisha?” “Riley, I’m your friend, so know when I say this it’s because I love you.” Riley snorted as Ben shot back the rest of his whiskey and set his glass down. “Go get dressed and look presentable. You are going on this damn date, even if I have to drag your sorry ass there myself. Oh, and by the way, you’re borrowing my name until you know for sure. Keeps you somewhat secure.” His words were met with another loud curse. “You’re welcome.” Riley glanced up to find his

friend, who rarely ever got annoyed, glaring at him. His green eyes darkened and he tapped his fingers on the counter, waiting for Riley to get moving. “Fine, fine. Just for you, I will go on this stupid date.” He headed back to his bedroom as Ben called out, “Don’t worry. If this one doesn’t work out, I already set up another for tomorrow.” “Course you did!” Riley headed to his walk-in closet and stared. What do I wear on a blind date with a woman who might end up as my wife? Hell, this is insane. Who cares? He pulled a button-up black shirt off the hanger and threw it on over his t-shirt, then headed to the bathroom to gel his

hair. Once it was not as messy, he rolled up his sleeves, showing off the tattoos on his forearms. Remembrances for those he’d lost. On the left was a white lily with vines and his parents’ initials written along their lengths. On the other was a phoenix feather and Meredith’s initials. The feather ranged in color from red to shades of orange and yellow. He stared at the tattoo for a long time, remembering how, in the beginning, it had been done to match hers. Then when she’d died, he’d added her initials. His thumb brushed over the black ink and he felt the familiar pain tighten his chest. Heard the sirens wailing in the distance. If he’d been faster to react…if he’d seen the

headlights just a second sooner… If the asshole that hit them hadn’t been drunk. “Riley, you ready?” Ben called. “We need to swing by your office to go over some merger papers before your date tonight!” “The merger. Almost forgot about that.” How could he, though? It was going to be the next great step for the company. A contract with the CIA and Homeland Security. It was going to take his company to the next level and help it grow tenfold over the next five years. Creating jobs for the city and giving him a chance to set up new offices all across the globe…if he could get married in the next two months.

Just one more thing to add to his plate of heaping problems. Riley grabbed his black leather jacket and followed Ben out the door and down the twenty floors to the waiting town car. *** “Evening, Riley,” Linda, his secretary, said as he exited the elevator. “Linda. So I hear I have some papers to take care of?” She nodded but looked a bit frantic, eyes darting to his office door and back. “I tried to stop her, but she insisted. Tony’s in there with her just in case.” “Her who?” Riley snapped, though he already had a feeling he knew. He took a deep breath, then smiled at

Linda. “It’s all right. Go ahead and sign out for the evening. I’ll take care of this.” “I’m sorry, really, I tried to stop her.” “It’s fine, Linda,” he said gently. “Really. Have a good night.” She nodded, then hurried back around her desk to pack up her things as Riley marched towards his open office door. He normally left it unlocked. He trusted everyone in his building and never had an issue before. Now, he wished he’d brought Ben in with him to at least run interference, but Tony was there. He’d keep the crazy woman from smacking him again. He hoped. “Ms. Chandler,” he snapped as

he entered his office and spotted the familiar redhead sitting in a chair in front of his desk. “Evening, Tony.” “Mr. Marston.” The security guard nodded. “The lady here refused to budge.” “And you didn’t want to call the cops?” he asked with a wink. “Not unless you want me to, sir,” Tony said with a smile. Riley sat down in his chair and glared at Diane sitting stiffly in her chair, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “I don’t know. Do we need to call them?” Her eyes narrowed even more. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Technically, you are

trespassing. What do you want?” “I wanted to see if we could come to some sort of deal about your… predicament.” “Really? And what, may I ask, is that?” She smiled slowly…until she saw Tony standing in the corner. “Not in front of him.” Riley rubbed his forehead, trying to ignore the headache blooming there. “Tony, could you please wait outside?” “As long as she doesn’t try to slap you again,” he muttered, then went out and shut the door behind him. “There, we’re alone. Now what do you want?”

The sly smile returned to lips painted in dark red lipstick. She leaned closer to the desk, pushing her cleavage up. Riley glanced at it briefly, then stared back at her, bored. “I have an offer.” “I’m listening,” he said, trying to sound as if her sudden seduction was working. “This little issue about marriage…there’s a simple solution. One that fits both our needs.” He leaned closer too, letting his lips turn up in a smirk. “And what is that?” “We’re roughly the same age. I might have ten years on you, but who’s counting?” She leaned closer still until

her breasts were barely a foot away from his face. She twirled a strand of her hair around her finger and pursed her lips, trying to be coy. “Why don’t you just marry me?” Riley leaned in closer, acting as if he was going to kiss her, but then the smile fell from his face and his eyes narrowed to angry slits. “Get out of my office, you crazy bitch, before I have Tony throw you out.” She shoved back from the desk with a curse and paced around, arms crossed over her chest once again. “You know this would be simpler if you said yes. Who’s going to agree to marry you in less than two months? Clock’s ticking, Riley, and if you don’t figure it out quick

enough, I’ll take everything that was supposed to be yours.” “So you want to share it with me instead,” he asked, leaning back in his chair. “You don’t seem like the playnice type of lady.” “I have my moments,” she shrugged. “I don’t want to have to fight you on this.” “Who’s fighting?” He stood and walked around the desk, hands clasped behind his back. “I’m going to find a wife in two months, then you’ll be out of my grandfather’s life and his legacy for good. I don’t know what he saw in you, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you weasel your way in here when you’re clearly bedding down with

the enemy.” “How dare you suggest such a thing!” “You’re the one that showed up to his wake with William Yancey on your arm! What game are you playing at, Diane?” She marched right up to him and poked him hard in the chest with her sharp-nailed finger. “One that I’m going to win, and in two months, it’ll be me sitting pretty in that damn chair and you out of here, on the streets where you belong.” “Tony,” Riley called. “The lady is ready to leave now.” “What? We’re not done here,” she snapped as Tony opened the door

and grabbed her arm. “Yes, we are, unless you want me to call the cops.” “Consider my offer, Riley, otherwise in two months, you’re screwed!” “Over my dead body, bitch,” he whispered as Tony dragged her out of his office, down the corridor, and disappeared towards the elevators. Riley walked around his office, hands curling and uncurling at his sides. She wanted him to marry her? She couldn’t be serious? All she wanted was the company. And he knew damn well she was more than ten years older than him. Her wrinkles showed through her

foundation a bit more than she would have liked. Marry Diane Chandler, his grandfather’s girlfriend? It was like the start to some bad tragic comedy where he’d wind up dead and she’d gain everything in the end. And why should he be out on the street? His parents were white collar. They didn’t come from trash, so why would she say something like that? He sat back down and dialed Ben’s cell before he started to look through the papers that needed to be signed. “Hey, Riley, what’s taking so long? Your date is in like…twenty minutes.” “Sorry, unexpected guest.

Remind me later that we need to dig a bit deeper on Diane Chandler and William Yancey. She’s up to something.” “She was in your office? What the hell did she want?” “Well, first she tried to shove her breasts in my face—fakest I’ve ever seen—and then she asked me to ask her to marry me,” he muttered. Silence met his words as his pen scratched out his signature on one form, then two. “Ah, Ben, you still there, buddy?” “Sorry, just processing. She’s almost old enough to be your mother.” Riley fought back a shiver. “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Thanks for that

mental image.” “You’re welcome. I’m assuming you said no?” “Nope, I said yes and we’re getting hitched next week. What do you think I said?” He laughed in disbelief. “Seriously, Ben, I’m desperate, but I don’t have a death wish.” “She would try to kill you,” Ben mused. “Poison. That’s how she’d do it.” “You think?” Riley glanced at the phone, amused. “Yeah, why, what do you think she’ll do?” “Smother you with her fake boobs, what else?”

“Very funny.” He laughed as Ben cackled through the line. “I’ll be down in five. Don’t laugh yourself into a coma.” “No promises. That image is going to entertain me for weeks.” “And you’re supposed to be my friend,” Riley said and hung up on him. He signed the last few papers, tucked them away in the folder, and set it in his outbox for Linda to pick up Monday. It was Friday night, which meant everywhere was going to be crazy. Ben hadn’t even said which restaurant he was meeting this mystery woman at. He just wanted to go and get it over with…then take a nice hot shower and try not to picture anything to

do with Diane Chandler.

Chapter 8 Phoebe felt her heart stuttering in her chest. She’d stopped by the hospital very briefly to see if her mother was awake, but she was still out. The doctors thought it was best for the time being, until her head healed more. The last thing they wanted was for her to wake up and realize she’d been hurt. Last time, she’d had a severe episode and nearly injured herself further. Phoebe had held her hand and smoothed back her graying hair around the bandage, promising that soon, everything would be better. She would do whatever she had to. “Whatever I have to,” she

whispered aloud, then headed across the street. It was busy. Typical for the city on a Friday night. People shouted, horns honked, and sirens howled off and on in the distance. Usually, she stayed in on nights like this, curled up with a book and a bottle of wine…or three. The last few months had been rough and only gotten worse. This was not where she’d wanted to be in her life. Not what she wanted to be doing, yet here she was, stuck in a rut, waiting for some random knight in shining armor to rescue her. But fairy tales weren’t true. Real life didn’t work that way. She stood under the awning of the casual Italian restaurant and tried to

keep an eye out for her date. He had put a picture up of himself, but she still hadn’t. That, and he didn’t even know her real name. She kept repeating it to herself over and over. Anna, her middle name was Anna, and that’s what she was going by tonight. At least until she knew this guy wasn’t some psycho killer. Mitch. His name was Mitch Harper. He had nice, gentle eyes in his picture, and he’d looked in good shape, had a sweet smile…Phoebe grinned just thinking about him. Maybe Charlotte was right and this night wouldn’t be a nightmare. It could be the answer she was looking for. Or it could be a few hours of hell. A cab pulled up alongside the

curb as thunder rumbled overhead. Another spring storm was rolling in and looked like it was going to spill over the city any second. Phoebe was going to head inside until she saw the man get out of the cab. “Mitch?” The man glanced up and smiled. “Anna? Hi, sorry I’m a bit late,” he said, then turned and paid the cab driver. “Things ran a bit long at the office.” “No problem. I was a bit early.” They stood there awkwardly for a second before he held out a hand and she took it, hoping he didn’t feel her sweaty palm. “Well, then, it is very nice

to meet you, Anna. Shall we go in before it storms?” He gestured for her to go ahead of him as he held the door. Phoebe had only been to this place once—on a date, funnily enough. It had ended well, but the relationship had petered out. Maybe it was bad luck to come to the same place. Should she have asked to go somewhere else? Too late now. You’re here, just go with it, she nagged herself silently as the hostess showed them to a table towards the back corner where it was a bit quieter. She also saw Mitch slip the woman a fifty before he pulled out a chair for Phoebe. “Now then, are you a wine drinker or a cocktail drinker?”

Phoebe smiled as she spread her napkin on her lap and picked up the menu. “Depends on the day.” “Well, in that case, how was your day?” he asked with a smile. “My day was…” She stopped herself short and cleared her throat. No need to scare the man off on the first date. “My day was just fine. After all, I got to meet this great new guy and go on a date with him.” Cheesy! Good lord, don’t say anything like that again, you’ll ruin it. Mitch laughed. “Right back at you. So a bottle of red then?” “Bottle of red will do just fine,” she said, then settled back in her chair as the waitress came to get their

order started. Mitch kept the conversation light for the most part, asking about her job and if she liked what she did. Part of her really didn’t want to get into her job, not yet. But the second she told him what she did, he took it as a sign that she wanted to know all the ins and outs of his job. All the ins and outs. Every last thing he did as he went about his day as VP of this great company. Phoebe tried to pay attention, contributing at the right times with a question or a nod. His jokes were dry, and she really just wanted to down the rest of the bottle in front of her and call it a night. But that was rude, and if her mother had taught her anything before

she started to lose it, it was to be polite and respectful, no matter whose company one was in. So Phoebe sat back and listened. *** Riley was going to throttle Ben if he ever made it out of this restaurant alive. The only good part about the night so far was that he was eating the food he’d wanted, even if the present company was not what he’d had in mind. The woman, Trisha, was pretty enough. She had long blonde hair that reflected the candlelight from their table, high cheekbones, and bright green eyes. But it was those eyes…they watched him like a hawk. Like she was waiting to hunt him down and eat him.

Figuratively speaking, of course. He rubbed his forehead as he forced another laugh to drown out her high-pitched hyena bark. It was horrifying to think these were the type of women he’d be dealing with. Gold diggers. The way this one kept mentioning her job and how little she earned for what she did, he knew exactly what would happen the second they were hitched. “Did you hear me?” she asked and patted his hand gently. “Hmm? Oh, I’m sorry, work on my mind and all.” “It’s all right, Ben,” she said. Riley had told Ben that if he was going

to be on this damn website, he was not using his real name. At least not until he met the right woman that he didn’t feel was going to put him into an early grave. Or rob him blind. “I know you’ve had quite the week.” “Yes, but that’s no excuse to be rude.” “Well, if your mind is not on dinner, we can always go somewhere else.” “I know there’re a few movies —oh!” He almost flew out of his chair when her hand was suddenly at his groin, massaging him through his jeans. He glanced around but no one paid any attention to them.

“I was thinking somewhere more private,” she whispered as she sidled closer and licked her lips. “Ah, well…you see…” he muttered, trying to focus. Though he didn’t necessarily like this woman, it was hard not to be aroused by what her hand was doing. And she felt it, too. Her smile only widened as she nuzzled his neck. “I’ve always wanted to see what a penthouse looks like.” Riley nodded, then gently removed her hand. “I have to run to the restroom right quick, then we can head out. Maybe order us a bottle of wine and dessert to go?” She nodded enthusiastically and called out loudly for

their waiter as Riley hurried through the tables to the back of the restaurant. Hopefully, no one noticed the bulge in his pants. Too hard to try and readjust himself out here with everyone watching. He neared the bathrooms, passing several other tables with couples. He started to turn back around when his eyes caught sight of a young woman with long auburn hair that trailed down her back. It was a stunning shade, and Riley paused for just a moment to see if she’d turn. She did. Her green eyes looked bored as she stared off into nothing and sipped her wine. The man at the table kept talking away, and Riley could hear the smile in his voice, though he couldn’t

see his face clearly. Riley frowned. At least he wasn’t the only one having a bad night. He stared just a moment longer at the gentle curve of her cheek and lips before he turned down the hall that lead to the bathrooms. Too bad he couldn’t have been on a date with her. At least she didn’t look like a money-grabbing hyena. *** Phoebe glanced at her phone, wondering if she should text Charlotte to call her, make it sound like an emergency with her mom. Anything to get her out of this dreadful night. Hell, she’d had meetings at work that weren’t this dull. “So,” Mitch said after ending

another long explanation of some account or other, “shall we get down to the real business of the evening?” Phoebe’s ears perked up. “Excuse me?” “Look, you can be honest with me. I know you joined that site because you need money for something.” She bristled as she set her glass down. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” “You’re not exactly dressed to the nines there, Anna. You need money and I have that. My only question is, what’s your price?” Phoebe wasn’t sure what to say. She stared at him, open-mouthed. What exactly was he asking her? She

didn’t think they were going to talk about anything like this on their first date. And why was he suddenly looking at her with narrowed eyes and a smirk? A few moments ago, he’d seemed so normal, but now…now she wasn’t sure who she’d just had dinner with. “Look, I joined that site because I’m just looking for a guy to date. You know, meet new people,” she lied. “No, you’re not. You need money,” he said, leaning forward and taking one of her hands in his. “That’s why all the women join that site. It’s not a secret, Anna, and you can’t hide from it. What do you need money for?” She wanted to pull her hand

away. His touch didn’t feel so friendly anymore. “My mother. She needs surgery and I…I’m out of options. That’s all.” “Your mother? That’s easy enough. I think I can work with that.” “What? You mean you’ll… you’ll help me? Just like that?” “Well, no,” he said, laughing. “I want something in return. Dating you would be fun, sure, but I think I deserve a little something more. Don’t you think?” His fingers trailed slowly up the back of her hand to her arm, giving her goosebumps. “Why don’t we head back to my place and we can talk about exactly what I’ll want in return?” That was it. Phoebe yanked her hand out of his grasp and grabbed her

wine glass—still half full—and threw it in his face. “Get away from me, you asshole!” He tried to reach for her, but he stepped on the tablecloth and nearly fell out of his chair. Phoebe took her chance and rushed for the bathroom towards the back of the restaurant. If she could hide in there for a few minutes, maybe he’d leave. Or she could sneak out a window…run out the kitchen— “Shit,” she muttered as the heel on her left shoe suddenly snapped. She stumbled into the wall and almost fell when two strong, tattooed arms caught her gently. “Are you all right?” “I’m fine I just…” Phoebe

trailed off as she saw the blue eyes staring down at her in concern. “My heel…it just snapped right off.” “I’m sorry.” “No, it’s fine. Just about sums up my evening. Speaking of which…” She glanced over her shoulder to see if Mitch was following her. She heard him calling for a waiter. “I need to get out of here.” “I was wondering if he was boring you to death.” “What?” “I passed by earlier. You looked ready to bolt then. Was it that bad?” “Worse, I’m afraid. I can’t walk back out there, not with everyone

watching.” Phoebe watched the man as he slipped on the black leather jacket he’d held in his hand and peered back down the hall. There was something about him…she wasn’t sure what it was. A warmth, maybe? Something made her want to trust this man. Especially after what Mitch had been suggesting they do for their arrangement. “Here, follow me.” “But aren’t you here with someone?” The man laughed sharply as he took her hand to help her walk. “Yeah, and I’d prefer not to go back out there either. Trust me, I have a way out.” “Through the kitchens? We’ll

get yelled at.” He laughed as he pushed open the double swing door and hurried down the cook line. Several waiters yelled at them, but the man just waved them off with a wide smile, Phoebe still holding his hand as he guided them through the steam and chaos of the kitchen. Phoebe found herself laughing despite the situation. It was crazy, following this strange man with a silver stud in his ear out the back door of the restaurant and into a large alley that dumped them on a street the next block over. “There, freedom at last,” he said. “Now then, may I ask your name?” Phoebe held her breath for just a second then said, “Anna. Name’s

Anna.” He smiled and squeezed the hand he was still holding. “Ben.” “Well then, Ben, what do you propose we do now?” He started to laugh, then laughed harder until he doubled over from it. Phoebe wasn’t sure what she’d said, but whatever it was, he couldn’t stop. “I’m sorry. Just…it’s been that type of day.” “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” she muttered, the smile falling from her face. He stopped laughing and watched her, eyes shining with curiosity, reflecting the streetlights. “Sorry, bit of a mood-killer today.” “From the look on your face,

I’d say you’re allowed.” Phoebe smiled. She glanced down at her shoes and felt tears start to prick the corner of her eyes. This was ridiculous. Worst date-night ever. This was the only damn good pair of heels she had, too, so of course she broke them. Pathetic. Everything about her right now was pathetic. He asked her for her other shoe, without the broken heel, and she stared at him, confused. “Trust me. Let me see it, otherwise walking the rest of the night is going to suck.” She took off her other shoe and after giving him permission, watched him snap it off. She slipped both shoes back on and laughed. “Girl can always

use another pair of flats.” “Hey, I know a great ice cream place just down the street,” he said and offered her his arm. “Walk down there with me?” Without really meaning to, she laid her hand in the crook of his arm. The leather was warm despite the slight chill clinging to the air. A front had moved through. Lightning still struck overhead, but no rain fell. At least not yet. “Why not? Ice cream can solve quite a few problems.” “My thoughts exactly,” he said, and together they strolled out of the alley and made their way down the sidewalk. He was tall. She hadn’t

realized how tall until she was right up next to him. He was a good head over her, more without her heels. From the feel of his arm, he was muscular, too, and that earring shining under the lights made her think of a modern-day pirate. All he was missing was a pistol and cutlass. “Well, I’m glad to see something has put a smile on your face,” he said. “And I’m sorry to say it’s at your expense.” “Really?” “Do you always wear that earring? Part of the bad boy look or something?” He grinned, reaching his free

hand up to tug on his earlobe. “No, not unless you consider grandfathers getting ear piercings as also bad boy behavior.” “Your grandfather? Jeez, you from a family of bikers?” “Ha! No, nothing like that.” She wanted to ask him more questions, but a shadow flickered in his eyes and she made herself back off. “Ok, I’ll make you a deal. We don’t ask any questions about who we are or what we do for a living.” He tilted his head to the side and frowned. “Then how am I supposed to get to know you?” Phoebe wasn’t even sure herself. This was all new to her. The adrenaline from their escape was

starting to wear off, and her usual nervousness was returning quickly. Any second now, she was going to do something stupid and have to bolt in the other direction. She opened her mouth to tell him she had to leave, but that wasn’t what came out. “You’ll just have to ask me out on a proper date.” What the hell? Am I channeling Charlotte tonight, or what? They’d stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing others to shove their way angrily around them just as the few first drops of rain started to fall, wetting her hair. She turned her face up to the heavens and let the cold drops cover her skin…and wake her up to

what she was doing. Quickly, she pulled her hand free of his arm and started to back down the street, walking carefully in the makeshift flats. He looked stunned and started to reach after her. “Wait! Anna!” “No, just…I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” “Where are you going?” “Home,” she yelled over her shoulder. “Just need to get home!” She heard him calling after her, but she tucked her chin down into her chest and hurried faster. Another street over, she ripped her shoes off angrily and ran barefoot. The rain poured down around her, filling the gutters in minutes and spilling over. It was the second time

this week that she walked through her front door, soaking wet from head to toe and shivering with cold. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t handle dating anyone right now, let alone finding someone to marry! It was too much. She curled up in a ball on the floor, just inside her front door, and tried not to imagine those tattooed arms catching her. *** Riley wasn’t sure what happened. He walked back to the restaurant in the rain, hair flattened against his head. Had he said something wrong? He figured she was probably upset from her date with that guy, but why did she just take off like that?

“Ben! There you are!” He didn’t register the woman’s words until she reached out and shook his shoulder. “What happened? The waitress said you took off out the back. I waited for you. Dessert and wine, remember?” Riley glanced down at the woman, obviously still desperate to keep his attention despite the fact he’d just rudely run out on their date. Well, at least she was better than Diane coming onto him. “Yeah, sorry,” he said. “Urgent phone call. I can’t believe you waited.” “For you, of course I’d wait.” She winked and licked her bottom lip. “Where’s your car? I’m getting soaked!” “It’s parked around the corner.

Let me just call my driver.” Riley stayed with Trisha under the awning of the restaurant until the car pulled up to the curb. He opened the back door for her to get in. He took one last long look up the street, then slid in beside her, trying to forget about the woman with the auburn hair and those green eyes that said so much. They made it back to the penthouse, and he let Trisha in, watching the sudden look of greed in her eyes as she took in his place. “I could fit, like, five of my apartments in here,” she said. “Yeah, it’s pretty nice most of the time,” he said as he opened the bottle of wine and plated the two desserts.

Trisha had already made herself at home on his plush couch, kicking her shoes off and tucking her legs underneath her. She thanked him when he handed her a wine glass, then came back over with the desserts. “You’re quite the gentleman.” “Except for running out in the middle of dinner.” “It’s all right. I understand. You’re busy, I mean that’s how you’ve been able to get where you are.” She ate a bite or two of the chocolate cake, but it was too rich for Riley all of a sudden. He could hardly swallow any and finally set his plate down and contented himself with just drinking wine. It was expensive, he could tell by the label.

Guess she’d told them to charge it to his tab. “Not hungry?” she asked. “Hmm? No, I guess not.” “Or, you’re just not hungry for cake.” She downed the rest of her wine, then crawled to the other side of the couch until she was practically in his lap. “I know what you want.” He didn’t stop her when she took the wine glass from his hand and set it aside. Nor did he remove her hands when they started clawing slowly down his chest to his jeans. Her lips burned across his neck. Part of Riley wanted to sit back, relax, and enjoy the attention for the night. But another part told him this wasn’t the woman he wanted. Definitely not the woman he hoped to

marry in less than two months. She’d just grabbed his hands and planted them on her breasts when Riley picked her up and set her aside on the couch. She huffed at him and tried to reach for his jeans, but he backed away. “Listen, you can sleep here for the night if you want, or I can call you a cab, but this isn’t going to work.” “What?” “I said it’s not going to work. Please, either make yourself comfortable on the couch or get out.” “No man has ever turned me down!” she snapped. “I’ve had the richest of the rich, you know.” “And I can clearly understand why they did not keep you around,” he

muttered as he re-buttoned his shirt. “You know what, I’ll just call you a cab.” “What happened, huh? I thought we were having a good time.” “Lady, I’m not an idiot. You want my money,” he snapped. “Well, guess what, you’re not my type. There’s the door—get out before I call the cops. Cab will be waiting downstairs.” He picked up his cell and called for a cab while she stood by the couch, face red, mouth moving in silent curses. She wasn’t used to hearing the word no, but he could tell she was used to being kicked out of rich men’s lives. Most likely when they’d tired of her. He’d have to have a talk with Ben in the

morning about being a bit choosier with the women he picked. After a tense stare down, Trisha finally flung her hair over her shoulder, grabbed her shoes and the rest of the expensive wine, and traipsed to the front door. “You’ll never find another woman like me.” “Hyena,” Riley corrected before he could stop himself. Trisha shrieked in rage and slammed the door behind her on her way out. All Riley could do was pour himself a scotch and laugh about the crazy night he’d just had.

Chapter 9 Riley frowned at the knock on the door. It was Ben. Had to be. Saturday morning before noon, it would only be Ben. Riley got up from where he’d passed out on the couch and groaned. No hangover today, at least, but he wished he had one. Anything to get Trisha and the memory of her pawing hands out of his head. He opened the door and glared. “What?” Ben asked, lips twitching in a smile. “How did last night go?” “How did it go? I’ll tell you how it went. It went so well that I think from now on, you should just act like me

and find the wife and then I’ll just show up and marry her,” he yelled as he threw his arms up in the air and headed to the kitchen. “That’s how great my freaking night was, Benjamin.” “Ouch, full name,” he said as he closed the door and followed his friend. Riley ground the coffee beans and started them brewing before he turned back to see Ben still smiling. “Wipe that grin off your face, I’m serious.” “Oh, come on, you can’t tell me there wasn’t at least one good thing about last night?” He was about to say no, but another face popped into his mind. A

beautiful face surrounded by auburn hair, soaked in rain water, right before she’d turned and bolted. “There was another girl…but…she ran off.” His friend stared at him, wideeyed, then laid his hands flat on the counter. “Wait, let me get this straight. So you go on a date, the lady turns out to be psycho, but you randomly meet some other girl who, from the look on your face was pretty special, and you let her run off? I thought the driver said someone came home with you?” “Yeah, crazy Trisha.” Ben whispered something and started to turn away until Riley admitted that she laughed like a hyena. A greedy, selfish, horny hyena. It was almost thirty

minutes later when Ben finally stopped laughing and told Riley he’d try to be more selective about his future mates. “Mates? We’re calling them mates now?” “Future trophy wife? I don’t know, man, what do you want me to call them?” Riley didn’t know. He really didn’t want to do this anymore, but if he didn’t, Diane won. Or worse, he’d have to suck it up and marry her instead. The girl…he needed to track down that girl. He had no idea how he could do it or if it was even possible. Somehow, he’d find her. *** Phoebe was at the hospital,

visiting her mother, who was still unconscious, when Charlotte knocked on the door. “Hey, how did your date go last night?” “We need to talk outside,” Phoebe snapped and dragged her friend out of the room. “What the hell did you get me involved in? Last night was horrible! Freaking horrible! He blurted out that I obviously needed money because apparently everyone can tell I’m poor. He asked for sex in return—or at least I think that’s what he asked for, but I don’t know ‘cause I ran, broke my only good pair of heels, then was half-saved by this other guy who looked like a pirate, but then I freaked and ran home in the rain—alone!” Her chest heaved from

spitting everything out at once. Charlotte stared at her like she’d lost her head. “Wait, just…what?” “You didn’t catch any of that?” “Pirate. I distinctly heard something about a pirate.” Phoebe groaned and shook her head. “I don’t think I can go out on any more dates with people from that website. I tried, I failed, end of story.” “No,” Charlotte said, “you are not giving up that easily. I won’t let you.” “Then what am I supposed to do? Grill each guy through e-mail before the date to make sure he’s not going to ask me for sex?” Several nurses walking by

stopped and looked at her funny, but she ignored them. Let them look. Nothing could be worse than what happened last night in the restaurant. There was an email from Mitch sitting on her computer, but she hadn’t opened it yet. Not sure she should, really. The guy had freaked her out on more than one level, and the last thing she wanted to deal with was some vicious rant by a bastard. “Look, I’m off duty in about two hours. I’ll swing by and we’ll talk about it, all right?” “Fine, but no tequila. I have to go back to work tomorrow.” “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I know they’re not releasing your mom yet.”

“I don’t have a choice. I have no sick days left and no more vacation. Unless I want to get fired and be really screwed, I have to go back. It’ll be fine, right? Everything always works out for the best.” Phoebe wished she believed that. She told Charlotte she’d see her later, took one last look in on her mom, and headed home to her place. At least with her mom in the hospital, she could get a good night’s sleep in her own bed. She’d passed out on the floor last night and woke early, unable to do anything but think about how her date had gone from mediocre to downright nightmarish. Until she met the pirate. Ben. Ben the pirate. Not a very good fit, but it

worked. Not like she’d ever see him again anyway. Phoebe made a fresh pot of coffee then went to her desk to pull out some files she needed to finish up before returning to work the next day. Her job was pretty simple compared to what the techs did. But she wasn’t that great with computers. They tended to freeze on her and never work again. No, she was at home amongst her files in the archives room, doing the odd jobs here and there for others around the office. As one of the ladies called her, a highly-trained secretary. She was proud of where she was, getting things to run smoothly for everyone else, moving behind the scenes. She had become content with her

lot in life. Since her mother became ill, any hope of pursuing her real dreams had been put on hold indefinitely. Above her desk hung a beautiful picture taken of her working with some foster kids. Phoebe had spent so much time with them, counseling them, learning their stories. Though she wasn’t adopted herself, she’d had friends that were. Knew what they’d gone through. Helping people was something she’d wanted to do, but unlike Charlotte, she didn’t have the brains to be a nurse. But she knew how to get inside a kid’s head and help them understand that their situation was not the end of the world. Her plan had been to start a fundraiser and create a

program that would target the youth of the city, but every time she brought it to Yancey and his goons, they laughed in her face. If she wanted to fund something like that, she had to do it on her own. Typical. They were sitting on a gold mine and refused to share with those who could use it. Phoebe tried not to look at the picture too much. She’d been avoiding calls from the local teen shelters asking where she was. The kids missed her. But she didn’t have time for them right now. That, and she couldn’t handle the disappointment on their faces when she told them all her dreams had fallen through.

A couple hours later, she had files spread all across her living room floor, organizing and labeling, when a knock sounded at her door. “She’s right on time,” she muttered as she got to her feet and headed to the door. “Charlotte, I really think we need to—how the hell did you get up here?” Mitch leaned against her doorframe, hands playing with his designer sunglasses. “I know some people, Phoebe.” “Phoebe…who’s Phoebe?” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “Don’t lie to me. I know your real name, and I know who you work for.”

“Look, I don’t want trouble. Just get out of here or I’m calling the cops.” “What, your boyfriend can’t stop by to say hello?” “You’re not my boyfriend. Get out of here!” She tried to close the door, but he shoved his foot in and grabbed the edge. “Mitch, seriously. Go away!” “No, not until you apologize for last night.” Phoebe glanced behind her and realized her phone was on the other side of the room. “I’m not sorry. You were trying to offer me money for sex! Who does that? On a first date!” “Listen, I’ll admit I might have gone a little overboard last night, but

really, you need me.” He pulled out some rolled up papers from his back pocket and shoved them in her face. “What are these?” He stopped trying to get into her apartment and took a few steps back, holding up his empty hands. “I’m sorry for last night, really, okay? I just…it’s been a long time since I’ve dated, and you’re really very beautiful. I think…I think we can really help each other out.” Phoebe was trying to think of something to say when she finally looked down at the papers. “My credit report? How…how did you get this?” “I work in money. I know people. Using your middle name and mother’s maiden name…pretty clever,

but it all leads back to you. Next time, use a full fake name if you don’t want to be found.” She barely nodded, eyes glued to the numbers on the page before her. She was that much in debt? How had she let it get this bad and not even notice? There was no way she could keep paying to take care of her mother for another three months! It was going to wipe out her savings completely. She knew her mother already had nothing left. They’d spent what little there had been to bury her dad and pay for her prescriptions. It was all going to come crashing down on her in three short months…and her only option stood in the hallway, looking like the million-plus

dollars he was worth. “Listen, Mitch…last night…if you want to date me, that’s fine,” she said, trying to stay strong and think of her mother. “But you have to understand, I’m not just some gold digger who wants your money, and I’m definitely not going to just have sex with you because of it.” “So…what are you saying?” “I’m saying that we can date, try this out and see if it works. If—and that’s a big if—we think we can handle each other…then we’ll talk about future arrangements.” He stared at her for a long second before his eyes softened and looked like the picture Phoebe had judged him by. He bobbed his head and

ran his hand over his buzzed hair. “That will work just fine. Now then, since we’re dating again, I have a function to go to this coming Wednesday night. Would you do me the honor of being my date?” “Function? Like black tie function?” “Yes, is that a problem?” She remembered the comment he’d made, and she glanced at her typical Sunday clothes of jeans filled with holes and baggy sweatshirt. “I don’t know, I’m a bit poor, remember?” He cringed and hung his head with a shamed smile. “Yeah, I’m sorry. The people I’m used to being around, they’re not very nice. Makes me a bit of

a brute.” “Well, brute, keep it in check or our deal is off.” He laughed. “Deal. But if you’re worried about something to wear, don’t worry, I’ll have something sent over. Pick you up around seven?” Don’t say yes, don’t do it! This guy is crazy…you can’t possibly be considering this? “I’ll see you at seven,” she said, ignoring the nagging in her head. “All right, then.” He slid his sunglasses back on, waved, and headed down the hall as Charlotte was coming up the stairs. He passed her with a smile and a very happy hello, leaving Charlotte with a very confused look on

her face. “Did I miss something? I thought you said last night was horrible?” “It was.” “But isn’t that the picture you texted me? What’s going on, Phoebe?” “Pretty sure I just made a deal with the devil,” she muttered. “How about some wine?”

Chapter 10 Riley tapped away at his keyboard as he set up the new security program for a client. Most of the work was done by his techs, but he was still a geek at heart and messing with programs, getting to write the code that would be used by his company, was what he lived for. He worked just as hard as the rest of his guys. And now that this dating nonsense had started, all he wanted to do was stay in his office and keep on working. “Riley,” Linda said as she knocked on his open door. “Your one o’clock is here.” “Already?”

“Yes. You haven’t taken a break all morning, sir. Would you like some coffee? Lunch?” He saved his work and locked his desktop. “Coffee, please, and let them know I’ll be right in. Where’s Ben?” “He’s getting them settled into the conference room.” “Good, that’s good. I always hated having to do that part. I’d rather just go in there, give my speech, and disappear while he deals with all the messy bits,” he said as he met her at the door. “Don’t tell him I said that.” Linda laughed. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.” Riley headed down the hall

and through the main workspace of the upper floor where his supervisors worked out of their offices. Everyone was hard at work as usual, but they made a point to say hello when Riley passed by their doors. He was a social CEO, liked to know his employees, liked to know they were doing well. It was what his grandfather had done, and he was going to continue to carry on that legacy. As long as he got to keep the company. No one else knew of his predicament, and he wanted to keep it that way. Last thing he needed was an inhouse uproar over the situation. He knew, if he asked, most of his people would follow him to a new business, help him start his own. But he couldn’t

do that to them. This business was successful. They needed to keep their jobs for their families. Riley had no family. He’d be fine if the worst happened. “Gentlemen,” he said as he entered the conference room. Every seat was taken. In the early years, he’d been nervous at times like this, but now it was the easiest part of his day. “I have very good news to discuss with you all.” Ben got up and closed the door, then dimmed the lights so they could do the presentation. “We hope so,” the bald man in front said. “We have had an offer since last we spoke, Mr. Marston.” “An offer? May I ask who

from?” “Yancey. He’s saying he has the exact same program, but it's about ten thousand cheaper than you are. We thought you said this technology was new? Never used before you created it for us.” Riley’s hands clenched the edge of the table as he glanced at Ben. “Where did Yancey say this program came from, exactly?” “He didn’t, but I must say, Mr. Marston, if the death of your grandfather is going to affect you too much to keep up with your competition, we will take our business to them. Now then, are you certain your product is worth the ten thousand more?”

Forcing himself to take a deep breath and not tug at his earring, Riley straightened and smiled. “Of course. Let me show you what we have done…” *** “How the hell did Yancey get a hold of my programming?” Riley yelled in his office. The door was closed, but he saw Linda peek out from behind her desk, a worried frown on her face. He waved her away after mouthing an apology and went back to pacing. He wanted to throw something…no, he wanted to throw Yancey out a window! “I don’t know, and I doubt we have a mole…wait, you don’t think Chandler did this?” “How could she have gotten

into the system?” “I don’t know, but I’ll start digging around some.” “Fine, and set up a meeting with Yancey. I want to have a little chat with our dear friend across the way,” Riley snapped. “I’ll even be so kind as to meet him at his office.” Ben glanced up from his tablet. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” “Yes, anything to throw him off balance is good. He’ll be suspicious.” “You could put it that way. Fine, I’ll set it up,” Ben said as he got to his feet. “Oh, how were your latest dates…? Never mind,” he muttered when Riley glared at him. “I’ll…uh, go set up that appointment.”

He left Riley still fuming. When did everything decide to go wonky again? He thought life had kicked him enough times when he was down, but now this? His company was being sabotaged by someone, and he was no closer to finding a damn wife. He glanced at his grandfather’s picture hanging on the far wall. “You’re getting a real kick out of this, aren’t you?” But the picture didn’t answer him back. The old man would give him no more advice. Riley was on his own. He sat down at his computer and forced himself to start looking through some more profiles of women. But none of them were the one he wanted to see. The

girl from Friday night…he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. The date on Saturday had been a bust. The woman didn’t even show. And last night…last night had not been as bad as Trisha, but the girl was too nice for his world, too shy. He’d kissed her hand in a gentle goodbye and walked her to her door, but that was the end of it. “Why can’t I find you, Anna?” he whispered, scrolling through the profiles, not even reading them. “You have to be around somewhere, so where are you?”

Chapter 11 On Wednesday morning, Phoebe was shaking like a damned leaf as she tried to finish up her archiving from the day before. But it was too hard to focus. Last night, she’d received a package from Mitch with a note that said it was for the function tonight. A very classy, black-tie, expensive, champagnedrinking function where Phoebe knew she would not fit in. Ever. They’d spot it in a second, and she’d become the laughing stock of the rich and beautiful. Especially in that dress. The gorgeous, black, lace and silk dress, floor length, flowing out from her waist, off the shoulder sleeves and plunging neckline…she found herself staring off

into nothing, remembering what she’d looked like last night. “No, don’t be an idiot. You’ll stand out because you don’t belong there, and this is a very, very bad idea.” “What is?” Phoebe jumped and dropped her files all over the floor. “Damn it,” she muttered and bent down to pick them up until she saw the patent leather shoes in front of her. Slowly, her eyes scanned higher until she was staring into the face of William Yancey himself. “Oh, Lord, I’m so sorry, Mr. Yancey.” “It’s quite all right…Ms. Baron, is it?” “Yes, sir. I didn’t hear you come in. Was there something I could

help you with?” He bent down and helped her scoop the files back together, then stood as she made her way back to her desk— all alone in the archival room. “Yes, I need the files pulled from the latest programming for FN-275. I’m having a meeting today, and I would like to be well-prepared for it.” “FN-275…just one moment. I think I finished those right before I went on vacation.” “Vacation? Ah, and how was that?” Phoebe frowned with her back turned. Why the hell was he making small talk? She typed the file name in her database and waited for it to give

her the exact location. “I’m afraid I didn’t get to go anywhere. Taking care of an ill mother, if you recall.” She didn’t turn around to see if anything registered on his face, and when he didn’t reply, she knew he’d completely forgotten about her frequent requests for help. But it didn’t matter. She had a rich boyfriend now and all her problems were solved. Yeah, except now you have to dress up like some Barbie doll and parade around with him. Phoebe told herself to get a grip as she dug for the files. “Ah, here we go. It’s a pretty thin file—are you sure there wasn’t something else that went with it?”

“Are you questioning your boss?” he snapped as he took the file from her hands. “No, just trying to be helpful.” “Well, do yourself a favor and don’t. Go back to your filing and stop asking questions.” Her brow furrowed as she sat back down at her desk. “I wasn’t asking questions—” “If you tell anyone about this, I will ensure that you have no income to support your mother. Understood, Ms. Baron?” He turned on his heel and stormed out of the archives. Phoebe sat there for a long time, trying to understand what happened. Prick. All she did was ask

about the file… She glanced out into the hallway, but it was clear. “Let’s see why you don’t want anyone poking around,” she whispered as she entered a new database, typed in the file name, and clicked the search button. After a few minutes of her cursor spinning, the search came back empty. “What? That can’t be right. If I have the hard copy, there has to be data.” She tried it again and again, but still, nothing came up on her screen. Had he given her the wrong file number? Maybe that was an old one, before she’d started the new system. Her fingers tapped nervously on her keyboard as she tried to decide what to do. If she’d given

him the wrong file and he looked like an idiot in front of whoever he was meeting with, it would fall back on her head. That was something she couldn’t afford. But then again, watching him be embarrassed was almost worth it. Almost. But not quite. “Shit.” Phoebe sprung out of her chair and raced out into the hall, impatiently waiting for the elevator to reach the basement. When she finally made it to the fifth floor and the doors dinged open, she knew she was in trouble. He was probably already in his meeting. She took off at a sprint…and ran straight into a very tall, very strong man. With a pierced left ear.

“Pirate…I mean, Ben?” she asked in shock as he righted them both. “Anna?” He stared down at her with a crooked grin. “Did you call me a pirate?” “What no…I, uh…I have to go…wait, why are you here?” “I have a meeting with Yancey. Why are you here?” Phoebe glanced around. People were starting to stare. “I work here, and I have to go, sorry.” He had a meeting with Yancey? Who the hell was that guy? She glanced over her shoulder to see him following her. “I’m not letting you run off a second time.” “You don’t have much of a

choice unless you want to be late.” “Then I’ll be late.” This couldn’t be happening. She was already nervous about tonight, and now he had to show up? “Look, I really have to get back to work…just… please. Don’t follow me.” “Then give me your number.” “What? Why?” “So I can find you again.” Phoebe turned around to confront him, but when she really looked at him, she lost all sense of what she was going to say. The night they’d met, he’d looked good in his jeans and leather jacket, but now, he wore a black tailored suit, red shirt, and black tie. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever

seen…and she was standing there like a gaped-mouth idiot. “Are you going to keep following me ‘til I give it to you?” He shrugged those impressive shoulders of his and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I have nothing else to do today.” And that smile! Why did he have to smile so crookedly? There was more stubble on his cheeks, too, like he was growing in a beard. He’d look good with a beard, a beard she could run her fingers through and tug on… Phoebe shook her head and sighed. “Fine, here.” She reached for his hand, pulled a pen from her hair where she kept one in her ponytail, and jotted her number down. “Don’t lose it.”

“Oh, I won’t.” She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to look annoyed but failed miserably, knowing her cheeks were probably bright red with embarrassment. Without a backward glance, she took off for the elevator and forgot all about the file Yancey had taken from her. *** Riley was still staring down at the penned number on his hand when William Yancey stepped out of his office to greet him. “William,” Riley said as he shook the man’s hand. “Riley. Always a pleasure to run into you, though it’s normally not in my own offices. What can I do for you?” “You can tell me how you

managed to get your hands on my new programming.” Riley watched his face fall as his grip suddenly tightened. “I assure you I have no idea what you’re talking about, but why don’t we take this conversation inside? Somewhere a bit more private.” He led the way into his office and closed the door behind them. Riley didn’t give him a chance to get comfortable before he laid into him. “You took my program, Yancey. Don’t sit there and deny it. I want to know who gave you the intel and how you managed to poach my client.” “Riley, it’s just good business, but I must reassure you I have no idea

what you’re talking about.” “You were a horrible liar when I first took this job and you've only gotten worse,” Riley said. “What’s next? You going to go after my merger with the CIA?” Yancey’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Why would I do that?” “It’s the next logical move. Who’s your informant?” Yancey leaned back in his chair and smiled slowly. “You have nothing. That’s why you’re here. You’re just fishing to see if I’ll give you anything to run with.” He laughed, then slid the file he’d taken from archives across the desk. “Here, have a look. Dated and timestamped with what my

people accomplished. No help from you.” Riley took the file and flipped through it. “What? This is from two years ago… That was the same time our R and D department started this project. How did you get this?” “I have no idea what you’re talking about. My techs started this project on that date and finished it only a week ago,” Yancey said, standing to pour himself a drink from his corner table. “I put the information out there on what we had and our price. Your client came to me, Riley. I’ve been a businessman as long as you have been alive. Poaching is not something I do.” “Please, don’t preach to me

about your morals.” Riley tossed the file on the desk. “Your records are incomplete. Where’s the actual research? Where’s the programming template?” “That I cannot show you.” Riley’s eyes narrowed when Yancey didn’t turn back around to face him. “Because you don’t have them. When I find out who’s behind this, they’ll wish they’d never tried to work both sides of a deal.” “I’m afraid you will never find this person,” Yancey said coolly. “But you are welcome to try.” “I will, don’t you worry about that. I’ll see you at the function tonight? Perhaps by then, I’ll have more

information on this spy of yours who doesn’t seem to exist.” Riley left the office after a single scornful look. The man was lying. But who in his building would consider working for a man like that? None of the people loyal to his grandfather. Maybe one of the younger techs? Trying to make a name for himself? He didn’t want to start interrogating his people, but if it came down to it, he would. Unless…unless it was Diane. Did all of this really trace back to her? There were still a few hours until the function that evening where his board would be trying to cozy up to all the businessmen they could get funding out of. Riley hated the things, but maybe

if he went, Yancey would slip up. Let him get a glimpse of this so-called spy. Then Riley could make his move and end this before Yancey took more than just a client from him.

Chapter 12 Phoebe spun around in her dress and stared at the person in the mirror. “This is so not me.” “Are you kidding?” Charlotte called from the kitchen. “You look hot! Damn, I wish I could wear something like that. Afraid the ladies wouldn’t fit too well.” “I think your ladies would fit just fine.” She twirled again and couldn’t help but smile. The last time she’d worn a dress like this…well, she’d never worn one. This wasn’t just a dress, it was a gown. Something rich people wore on their typical nights out. Yet here she was, in her tiny, shabby

apartment, wearing something this gorgeous. Charlotte’s reflection appeared next to hers. “Now, you remember what I told you?” Phoebe nodded and picked up the small satin purse that had come with the dress. “I have my mace. If he gets obnoxious or does anything else, I spray him in the face, call you for a ride, then call the cops.” “Yes, and I’ll be at the café right around the corner.” “Really, Charlotte, you don’t have to do this. I think we just got off on the wrong foot. This is his chance to try and get it right. If not…then I’ll cut him loose and get a restraining order.”

They laughed together before there was a knock on the door. “Well, at least he’s punctual.” Phoebe nodded and let Charlotte answer the door. She listened to them exchange pleasantries—though Charlotte’s were a bit on the threatening side—before she stepped forward from the hallway. “Phoebe,” Mitch said, dressed in a snazzy tux with a bowtie, “you look amazing. Really, that dress…it fits you like a glove.” She smoothed down the front and hung her head with a shy smile. “It really is a beautiful gown. And you look very handsome, too.” “Thanks, but I’m afraid you

will be drawing all the attention tonight.” He held out his arm for hers, and she picked up her small clutch. Charlotte said she’d lock up behind them, and the two headed down the hall to the stairs. “You really do look amazing tonight.” Phoebe smiled and felt her cheeks warm. Charlotte had helped get her hair up and pinned back with curls trailing around her face. The jewelry was on loan from her, too. Costume, but still, the stones sparkled against the dark fabric. As she’d been getting ready, her thoughts kept going back to her pirate and how it would’ve been nice if he was standing beside her instead of Mitch. “A limo?” she asked,

surprised, when they reached the curb. Mitch shrugged. “Trying to make up for my behavior the other night.” “Well, you’re doing quite well so far.” She waited a second before they got in the limo. “Mitch, I don’t want you to not act like yourself around me.” “Even if myself is that pompous ass from the other night?” “Well, no,” she said, frowning. “But if that’s the case, then I’ll head back upstairs right now.” Mitch took both of her hands gently and sighed. “I’ve been alone for a long time. Never really had a chance to have a serious relationship. But now, I’m at a point in my life…I need to get

serious, settle down. That me you saw the first night…I don’t want you to see that again.” She squeezed his hands and smiled, trying to believe him. “All right, then. Shall we go? I don’t want you to be late.” “If I’m late, it’s for a good reason.” When they were comfortably settled on the leather seat, the limo pulled away from the curb and they headed to the function. Phoebe played with her clutch and tried to keep a smile on her face. Mitch sat close but didn’t do anything except brush his shoulder against hers. Maybe he was telling the truth, but Phoebe wouldn’t trust him that

easily. They were almost there when her phone buzzed. “Do you need to get that?” “Probably just an e-mail,” she said and dug her cell out. “Sorry.” “No, please. We still have a few moments anyway.” Phoebe unlocked her phone and opened her e-mail. There was a new message from the dating website, but she’d worry about that later. There was also a missed call. She put it to her ear as it played, wondering why she hadn’t heard her phone go off. But when the voice started speaking, she had to hide her surprise by turning to look out the window. “So, yes, I called you earlier

than anticipated,” her pirate said, “but I couldn’t wait. I was hoping maybe Friday night, we could bump into each other again. Get that ice cream I tried to get you that first night? Just please, call me back. I would really like to see you again, Anna.” Then the message ended and she was left with the sudden urge to hit redial. She’d barely even met the man, yet there was something in his voice when he spoke to her, a glimmer in his eyes that she wanted to keep staring at. Those arms that had caught her twice now had left their mark. To feel them again…feel his lips on hers. They’d looked so soft. And his muscular body with the tattooed arms… “We’re here,” Mitch said,

interrupting what was quickly turning into an R-rated fantasy. “Oh, right,” Phoebe said and tucked her cell back in her clutch, hoping she wasn’t blushing too much. Things were getting a bit heated in her head, but the second Mitch took her hand, they all fell away. He was her date for the night. This was the man she had to focus on. At least for the moment. If she got bored, she’d sneak away and call the pirate back. Ben the pirate…doesn’t really fit too well. “Phoebe, if I may?” Mitch offered her his hand and helped her out of the limo. There were paparazzi lined up outside the black

velvet rope that blocked off the main entrance from anyone except invited guests. Phoebe had never been to an event like this. Bright lights flashed all around her, and she felt completely out of her element. It took everything she had not to jump back into the limo and tell the driver to take her back home. Praying she wouldn’t trip on her heels, she let Mitch guide her towards the front doors. She kept her face turned from the cameras as best as she could until they were through the doors. “Wow…holy shit,” she whispered as she stared at the ballroom. Mitch laughed. “Yeah, you could say that. These guys like to go all out. Think it actually impresses people.”

“It’s incredible, the flowers, the lights…it’s like a fairytale.” There were tables scattered around the outer edges of the large ballroom, fresh roses and dahlias in tall glass vases. The smell was intoxicating. Candles were lit all around them and music played on a platform in the back, all strings. There were several couples already dancing—dancing in a way that Phoebe knew she never could. Waiters in tuxes walked around, carrying trays of champagne and scotch, appetizers and bottles of wine. “Come on, I have to mingle with some people, but I promise, I’ll get you a dance soon,” Mitch said, and together, they headed over to another

group of men and women dressed much as she and Mitch were. Except those women wore real jewels. She snatched a glass of champagne as a waiter walked by and started to sip it. This night was going to be a long one. *** Phoebe slipped away two hours later when Mitch was still busy talking to…hell, she didn’t even know who they were anymore. They’d spent time with so many people, and she’d hardly said two words. First, she didn’t know what she should even say to people like this, and second, none of them so much as looked at her. She might be pretty, but the other women were

socially qualified for these types of events. Phoebe was not. She scurried away, out of the ballroom and down the hall, trying to find a quiet place to sit for a few minutes and kick off her shoes. “I know that look,” a woman about her age said, stepping out of the bathroom. “Excuse me?” Phoebe asked. The woman smiled and pointed at her bare feet. “New shoes. Never a good idea to break in the heels at these damn things. You’ll have blisters for days.” “Yeah, really didn’t think that part through. They just looked so good with the dress.” “I’ll give you that one.” She sat

down on the bench next to Phoebe and kicked off her own silver heels that matched her dark grey dress. “Other than the shoes, are you enjoying yourself?” Phoebe tried to smile, but whatever look did appear on her face made the woman laugh. “That obvious, huh?” “If you could see your face, you’d be thinking the same thing.” *** Riley grabbed Ben by the arm and dragged him out into the hall. “I’m leaving. I can’t stand listening to that damn man prattle on any more about my grandfather. And why the hell is Diane here? I thought you checked the guest list before we left?”

“I did. And I have no idea. But you need to relax, seriously. If you bug out now, the board members will throw a fit, and I’m not covering for you.” “Fine, but I need a break for a few minutes.” They strolled down the hall until he heard voices. Linda had disappeared to the ladies’ room what seemed like an hour ago. She was there as Ben’s date after Riley spent an hour convincing them both that he didn’t mind if they dated. As long as he didn’t catch them doing it in his office, he couldn’t care less. They turned the corner to find Linda sitting on a bench with— “Anna,” he breathed and put his arm out to stop Ben.

But they had drawn the attention of the ladies, who both turned. “Ah, there you two are. I was beginning to think you’d run off and left me,” Linda said. “Wait,” Ben whispered as the two women headed over. “Did you call her Anna? Is that the Anna?” Riley nodded as his chest tightened in panic. He didn’t want her to know who he was yet. She was the one woman lately who had treated him normally, not like she was going to eat him for dinner. If she found out who he was, it could ruin everything. “Ben, where’s my champagne?” Linda asked, frowning. But Anna wasn’t watching her

face. She was too busy staring at Riley. “I’m sorry, I must’ve forgotten to have Frank get it,” Riley said, smacking the real Ben on the arm as he spoke. “Frank, it seems you were to fetch your date champagne.” Linda glanced between them, confused. Riley raised his brows and subtly tilted his head towards the young woman standing at her side. Thank God his assistant was smart. “Yes, Frank, you did forget my champagne.” “What are you doing here, Ben?” the woman in black asked. “Anna, I’d like you to meet my associates, Frank and Linda. We’re attending the function for our boss.” The real Ben shot him a look but didn’t say

anything. If they could just keep it together for a few moments, he could sneak out and vanish. This was getting too dangerous too quickly. If the wrong person walked down the hall or saw him at all, the charade would be over, and he had a feeling Anna would disappear. “Nice to meet you, Frank. Linda was telling me how horrid these things are. I guess your boss makes you three come instead so he can lounge about at home?” Ben and Linda smirked at Riley as he faked a laugh. “Yeah, something like that. Are you here with someone then?” Riley asked. Phoebe cringed a bit. “Yeah, I am, sadly. The guy from the other night?

Giving him a second chance.” Her eyes darted around nervously, as if she was worried he’d appear beside them. Riley stood straighter at her words and tried to keep the smile on his face. So, she was here with a guy. A guy that, the last he had seen, was not making her very happy. “Second chance, huh? Well, I hope he really deserves it.” “Don’t you think everyone deserves a second chance?” “Depends on what they’ve done. Last time I saw you with him, you were pretty upset and I was ready to kick his ass if he followed you out of that place,” Riley said. Why was he getting so worked up? He hardly even

knew this woman. Maybe she liked men like that. In that case, she certainly was not his type. “Maybe you just don’t understand the circumstances,” she said hotly, cheeks flushing in anger. “Fine, then, maybe I don’t. Either way, I still don’t think you should be here with him.” “I didn’t give you permission to dictate my life.” “You didn’t,” he agreed. “Good. Then maybe you shouldn’t.” They stared at each other for a long moment before Ben cleared his throat. “So, you two known each other long?”

Riley saw Anna’s lips twitch before she started to laugh. He joined her, and they shook their heads. “No, we met last week—briefly, but it was still quite an adventure.” “Never been rescued by a pirate before,” she added, pulling her cell from her purse. “I should really get back inside before he comes looking for me, not that anyone in there actually misses me.” “Why don’t you just stay out here and hide a bit longer then?” Riley suggested. She glanced around but they were alone. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” “Splendid. I’ll go and grab some beers and sneak right back.” Riley

watched the real Ben disappear inside the ballroom as Linda and Anna returned to their bench down the hall. He followed, hoping her date wouldn’t decide to take a stroll any time soon. “I really shouldn’t have worn these shoes,” Phoebe said as she pulled them off. “Just walk around barefoot,” Linda told her. “No one will notice.” “What do I do with the shoes?” Linda leaned close and confided, “I always stash mine in the supply closet. Usually forget about them.” Phoebe laughed as Riley rolled his eyes. “Why do you wear them in the first place?”

“They were a gift, actually. So was the dress.” She hunched her shoulders a bit, and Riley had a feeling she wasn’t used to getting such outlandish gifts. Had to be from her date. Who was this guy? She didn’t seem like the type who would go after someone for their money, so why hang around him? “But it’s all right, I’ll just carry them. Everyone here already knows I don’t belong.” “Trust me,” Riley whispered, leaning in close, “that’s a good thing.” “What do you mean?” “He means that those people in there are utterly full of themselves,” Linda chimed in. “And what’s worse is they know it. They’re terrible, self-

centered, arrogant, and the list goes on. You’re better off not hanging around them, ever.” Phoebe laughed. “Is that why your boss makes you three come instead?” Linda looked right at Riley and smiled. “Not sure. Maybe one day I’ll ask him, and he can explain it all to me.” Riley nodded when Anna wasn’t looking. “I got your message by the way,” she said. “Oh? And were you going to call me back?” “Considered it, but now that you’re here, I guess I don’t have to.” “So, are you going to make me wait all night before you give me your

answer?” Phoebe glanced sideways at Linda, who took that as her cue to leave. “I’ll be with Frank if you need me,” she said to Riley, then headed off down the hall. Riley took her spot on the bench, laying one arm on the back and turning so he faced Anna. “So? Date or no date?” She looked at him long and hard, a gentle smile playing on her lips. For a second, he thought she was going to say no, and he felt all his hope dashed…but then she leaned onto his arm behind her and said, “Sure, why not? I don’t have any plans.” “Well then, it’s a date.” He reached out a hand and tucked one of the

curls behind her ear. “Now, are you going to tell me why you called me pirate the other day?” “You have to admit, you give off that flair. Black leather jacket, tattoos, stubble, and not to mention this,” she said, tugging at his earring. “Honestly, I thought you were going to pull out a cutlass at any second.” Riley laughed. “Pretty sure I own one of those, too.” He wasn’t sure how long they sat on that bench and talked about mundane things, but with Anna, it was anything but boring. He could tell she was holding back much of who she was, but then again, wasn’t he doing the same thing? It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her,

but he had to be careful. This marriagein-two-months issue was driving him nuts. That and the fact that she did, in fact, work within Yancey’s company somewhere. There were too many unknowns to reveal who he really was. Maybe soon, maybe in two months when he hit the deadline and needed a wife. A buzzing interrupted his thoughts, but it wasn’t him. Anna glanced down at her clutch but didn’t reach for her phone. Instead, she stared at him, cheeks flushed from their laughing. The light was soft against her face and brought out the green in her eyes. He noticed a slight shimmer around the edges where it faded to grey. He’d never seen eyes like hers and started to lean

forward with every intention of investigating further. Her breathing intensified and her chest moved, breasts brushing against him as he hesitated, only inches away. Her lips parted and he was about to lean in for a kiss when her phone buzzed again. Her eyes fluttered, and she backed away slowly, the moment gone. “Sorry, I really should see who this is,” she said as she reached for her cell. Riley wanted to take it out of her hands and throw it down the corridor, but she answered and her face fell. “What’s wrong?” he whispered. She was listening to whoever was on the other end, eyes widening and tears welling within their depths. All the

color from her face started to drain, and she looked like she was about to slump over on the bench. Riley reached out an arm and gently held her upright until the call ended, and, with shaky hands, she tucked her cell back in her purse. “I…I have to go,” she whispered and tried to stand, but her legs gave out. “Easy, Anna, just sit for a second. What’s wrong?” “It’s ah…that was the hospital,” she said as tears fell from her eyes. “My mother, she was moved to intensive care. I have to go fill out the paperwork. I need to leave.” “Your mother’s in the hospital?”

She nodded, then stood. “I need to find my date so he can take me. But I’ll see you for our date, right?” “Course,” he said, walking with her a bit. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” They reached the door to the ballroom, and she shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine. Thank you for this evening, by the way. It would’ve been boring as hell if you hadn’t shown up.” She squeezed his hand, then hurried through the doors to find her date. Riley went inside, too, just so he could see this mystery date of hers who deserved a second chance. He watched her dress disappear through the crowd; moments later, it appeared near

the front entrance with a man at her side. Riley ground his teeth. “Mitch Harper? That asshole?” “Did your lady take off on you again, Ben?” the real Ben teased as he and Linda came up beside him. “Wait, is she with who I think she is?” “I don’t want to talk about it,” Riley muttered. “She didn’t leave you for him?” Linda asked. “No. Apparently, her mother is in the hospital, but she said she’d still see me Friday.” Ben and Linda exchanged a glance, but Riley ignored it. Anna wouldn’t stand him up. He could tell by the look in her eyes how honest of a

person she was, despite whatever she was hiding from him. Probably had to do with her mother. It was personal. And she’d still told him some of it. But at the same time, the suspicious businessman in him needed to know more about this woman, especially since he knew she worked for Yancey. “Well, have we stayed long enough, boss?” Ben asked. “I’m sure you’d like to get out of here, too.” “Let me talk to our board members before we leave, since I’ve been absent,” Riley said. “But you two can go ahead and leave since I always drag you here against your will,” he added with a wink. He headed over to talk to the men he really never trusted.

His grandfather always said the board members were sheep who followed the market. Never trust them in any capacity to do what’s best for the company. All they cared about was lining their pockets. And if Mitch Harper was here, that meant his board was planning on doing some new investing. He didn’t trust Harper’s company. They’d made some shady deals in the past, and his grandfather had always stayed away from them. So why the sudden turn to them now? He told himself he would ask a few light questions and do some more investigating tomorrow. They greeted him with smiles and handshakes, six old

men, all gone grey now. Riley knew they looked down on him in some respects. They thought he was too young to run a company as big as Cyber Vault, Inc., that his grandfather had been a fool to leave him in charge these past years. But Riley didn’t care what they thought. As long as the majority of the company stock was under his name, they couldn’t touch him. Hence, the reason he had to keep Diane Chandler out of the picture. Something was going on, and he really needed to figure it out before everything was pulled out from under him. *** Charlotte was waiting for Phoebe when she rushed into the waiting

room. “She’s upstairs. I can’t let you in to see her, though, but the Doc said I could take you to speak with him on how she’s doing,” she said as her friend tried to rush past. “Why can’t I see her?” “I mean, you can…just, you can’t be at her side. Come on, Phoebe, I’ll take you up.” “Ok. Mitch? You can leave if you need to,” she said, turning back to her date. But he sat down in a chair and grabbed a magazine. “Nope, I’ll be right here waiting for you. You’ll have to get home somehow, right? I’m just a few floors away if you need me.” He smiled gently, and she mouthed a thank you

before letting Charlotte take her to the elevators. “So, I take it your evening went all right? I didn’t get any panicked calls.” “Yes, it went fine,” she said, “but I’ll have to catch you up on why later. Why are you already here, anyway?” “Doc Chambers knows how close we are. He promised to keep me updated about what’s going on with your mom so I can be there for you,” she said as they entered the elevator and started up. “And I got called in about five minutes before they moved your mom.” “Well, I’m really glad you’re here,” she said when the doors dinged

open. “I don’t think I could handle this alone.” Charlotte took her friend’s hand and held it the whole way to the ICU unit, where Phoebe could only look through a window at her mom. She was hooked up to all sorts of machines. It was the nightmare she’d always had. That her mother would slip away from her like this. Phoebe felt her legs start to give way under her, but Charlotte held her up and led her to a chair. “I’ll get Doc Chambers. Just sit right there.” Phoebe nodded and gripped her clutch, desperately trying to hold onto anything, needing a lifeline to pull her out of this mess. She knew what the

doctor would say. Her mother needed that surgery, needed it soon. Phoebe had no choice now. She’d been backed into a corner, and her only option was to give up her life so her mother would have a shot at living a bit longer and maybe die with a little less pain. That man downstairs, the man who hadn’t even really noticed she’d been absent from his side for half the night, that was the man she was going to have to marry. But what about Ben? She shook her head. She did like Ben, but there was no way he was as rich as Mitch. No way could she ask him to put up money for this sort of thing. She knew what her heart was getting

drawn into, but it wasn’t going to solve her problems. She needed a wealthy man who was willing to give her what she needed to make her mother better. Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out. It was from her pirate, a text: Hope your mother is doing ok. If you need to talk later, I’m here. See you Friday night, and maybe I’ll bring my cutlass. Phoebe grinned as she texted back that she couldn’t wait to see it. She might have to marry Mitch in the end, but until that time came, she was going to have some fun with this Ben. Why not, right? She was only going to live once. Might as well make it as exciting as possible before she threw her life into the hands of a man who didn’t

notice her enough to realize she’d been gone. “Phoebe?” Charlotte called out, and she glanced up. Doctor Chambers was right behind her, looking grimmer than he had the last time they’d spoken. “How is she? Is it the tumor?” “Honestly, I’m not sure at this point,” he said. “She was doing fine, and we were going to wake her up when suddenly she stopped breathing. We have her on a ventilator now and are monitoring her vitals, but I’m afraid she’s slipped into a coma.” Phoebe slumped over in the chair as her vision blurred and her ears started ringing. Her mother, in a coma?

This was not how she’d thought this night would go. “Is there a chance to still do the surgery?” she whispered as Charlotte sat beside her, holding her upright. He hesitated before sitting down on her other side. “There is, but we have a limited window in which to do it. And now, we have to wait until she comes out of the coma. If we try anything now, it could make the situation worse.” “So what exactly are you saying?” “The second she wakes up, we have to do the surgery or your mother’s chances of surviving are zero. I’m sorry, Phoebe, but I don’t have any better news

to give you.” All she could do was nod and stare at the window of her mother’s room. Fighting for her life and probably not even aware of it. Not understanding what her daughter was going to have to do in order to save her life. Would she ever know? There were days her mother had a hard time remembering who she was, let alone that her husband had died. Those had not been pleasant conversations. It was nearly an hour later before Phoebe was finally able to stand and follow Charlotte to a private room where she could fill out some paperwork on her mother’s behalf. When she reached the waiting

room, Mitch hurried to her side. “Is she doing all right?” he asked, glancing between her and Charlotte. “Just take me home,” Phoebe whispered. “Please.” “Of course,” Mitch said. “Call me,” Charlotte told her when they reached the front doors. “I’ll be over the second you do.” Phoebe nodded and let Mitch guide her back to the limo and follow her inside. He held her hand the whole way back to her place and even helped her get up the stairs to her door. He took the key from her when her fingers fumbled trying to get the damn thing in the lock.

“Thank you, Mitch. You didn’t have to do this,” she said. “I said I’d make up for my behavior, and I fully intend to follow through. If you need anything, just call me, all right?” She thanked him again, closed the door, and listened to his footsteps retreat down the hall.

Chapter 13 Phoebe hardly slept, thinking of her mom and what lay ahead of her. She went to work that morning in a daze. Thankfully, no one came down to the archives room to see her sitting at her desk, staring blankly at the wall. Work piled up, but it could wait a day. She wished she had more vacation days, but she’d used them all up. She could not afford to take any more time off. Charlotte texted her throughout the day, but there were no good signs that her mom was coming out of the coma yet. Not that she expected anything different. She was just packing her bag to leave when the door opened.

“Sorry, just about to close up…oh, Mr. Yancey. Can I help you with something?” He looked over, startled. “Ah, Ms. Baron. I thought you’d already left for the day.” “No, not ‘til five, which it is now. Is there something you need from the archives?” She watched as his hands twitched on the file folder he carried. He glanced around, running a hand through his hair and smiled—a very wide smile. “No, I was just going to drop this off on your desk for tomorrow morning. Nothing to fuss over.” “If you’re sure?” “Yes, quite. Please, head home.

I’m sure I will see you tomorrow.” “Okay, night, Mr. Yancey.” “Good night.” She strode past him and out the door, walking down until she hit the corner. After she turned, she waited a few seconds until she heard the door click shut. Glancing back, she saw he was still in there. Quietly, she crept back down the hall to the door and pressed her ear against it. He was typing on her keyboard. What was he looking for? He could’ve just asked her to look it up for him…or gotten it from his own computer. So why go all the way down to the archives room to search for something? She wanted to go in there and see, but what if he fired her? That

file he took the other day…he’d been a bit freaked when she started asking questions about it. Was that what he was up to? Her chair rolled across the floor, and she heard several drawers opening, followed by his cursing. A few seconds later, Phoebe rushed back down the hall and disappeared around the corner just as the door opened and Yancey stormed out, his steps heavy as he vanished in the other direction. The elevator dinged and she waited until he was gone before she headed back to the archives’ door. She sat back down at the computer and tried to track whatever Yancey had been looking up. It took a

few minutes, but she managed to find the file number. “What? That’s the file I gave him the other day…” She glanced down at her desk to find the files he’d had in his hand. “Why did he leave these behind?” She flipped through them, something she usually did not do, and frowned. “Empty, these are all blank pages. What the hell is he up to?” Phoebe glanced towards the door, but she was alone down here. She rolled her chair over to the file cabinets and started to find the location of whatever Yancey had pulled out. When she found the right drawer where the original file had come from, she pulled it open and stared. Half the drawer was empty.

Why had he taken all of those? They’d had nothing to do with the other files he’d wanted. At least, she didn’t think they did. It was a little past five now, which meant most everyone was heading home, including Yancey. She tossed her purse and coat back onto a chair in the corner and sat down at her computer. No one should be around to bother her now. Phoebe checked her computer records for the day before and found someone else had been searching for files that day, too, and the day before. “What about my vacation week?” she whispered as she went all the way back to last Monday. “Son of a bitch!” Yancey had been using her

credentials to search and, from what she could tell, remove files from the archives. Files that dated back several months and even several years. She had no idea what he was up to but spent the next few hours tracking down every single one in the archives room. Half of them were missing or had blank pages in them, like the one she’d found on her desk. It was going to be a long night, trying to figure out what he was up to. Around eight, her phone buzzed and she glanced at it. Mitch. “Hello,” she said when she picked it up. “Hey, where you at? I’m at your place.” “Uh…oh shit! I’m sorry, Mitch, I got held up at work with something.”

“The work excuse, eh.” He laughed when he said it, but Phoebe knew he was upset. “Really, Mitch, I’m sorry. I think I just found out that my boss is trying to cover something up.” “What? Do you need my help? I run in some pretty high up circles.” Could she trust him with this? Who else would she even go to? Her pirate friend…she didn’t even know what he did for a living except he worked for some big company that dealt with investors…and with her boss. As far as she knew, Yancey had no connections to Mitch. “I might. Can you meet me here? I’ll have to meet you at the front

doors to let you in.” “Sure, I’ll be there in ‘bout twenty minutes.” Phoebe hung up and tried to accept the fact that she was trusting Mitch. He had taken her to the hospital and sat in the waiting room the whole time she dealt with Doctor Chambers and the paperwork. He’d been good so far. There was nothing to worry about with him helping her out. The nagging voice in the back of her head said she should pick a man and stay with him. Either her mysterious pirate or Mitch. She couldn’t hang onto both forever. But she’d worry about that when it came to a head. Twenty minutes later, she let

Mitch in the doors and headed back down to the archives room. “So far, I’ve traced back records he’s tampered with from five years ago. I don’t know what he’s trying to do and I can’t figure out what these files all go to yet. It’s a bit technical.” “Well, I don’t know how much help I can be. I’m just a money guy,” Mitch said as he picked up a file off a nearby pile. “Damn—these pages…you can tell they’ve been modified. Look at this shoddy job.” “You can tell that easily?” “I have to be able to tell the difference pretty quick in my line of work. Saves us from fraud,” he muttered as he picked up another file. “This one

too. You need to show these to someone.” “Yeah, but who? I don’t even know what these are about yet.” Mitch sat down on the floor and started to flip through all the files in one stack. “These are research notes, or at least they were. The dates, though… these are newer files. Someone’s gone in and manually changed the year. Looks like a new program or something…I can’t make out too much of it. But this— this is a patent for that research. And I can tell you right now, at first glance, it looks legit, but this is fake.” Phoebe took the pages from him and shook her head. “This makes no sense. Why would he do this? His

company has been successful the past few years. They’ve put out good products. Why start faking things now?” “I know he’s eyeing some pretty big fish. Poaching clients from his rivals, or trying to, at least.” “And these fake documents do what then? Legitimize what he’s doing?” “No, but if someone tries to sue him, he’ll have proof that his patents either came out first or that his research was being conducted first…unless his research was conducted first and someone else is trying to steal it from him. He might think it’s you pulling the files so he’s taking them first.” He glanced at all the files on the floor, separated into piles. At least six of them.

“You need to take these to someone, Phoebe…anyone.” “To who? I’m just a file girl. No one will believe me. Even my boss thinks I’m up to something.” He reached out and held her hand. “We’ll figure it out, don’t worry. If we’re going to be here for a while, I need to call my driver and let him know to take off. I’ll get us a cab later.” She nodded, and he left the room, closing the door behind him. *** Mitch waited until he was down the hall before he pulled out his cell and dialed a number. Three rings later, a voice finally answered. “Yeah, it’s me. We might have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” “That person you were worried about? Yeah, she’s onto you. A bit more curious than you anticipated, I think. Told her what it looks like, but I don’t think she’s going to scare easy.” There was a string of angry curses on the other end. “I hired you for a reason, Harper. Find a way to take her out of the picture or this is not going to end well for you or your company. Do you understand me?” “Don’t threaten me,” Mitch hissed, walking farther away from the door so Phoebe wouldn’t hear him. “I can bury you anytime I want to. And I will. If I go down for this shit, you’re going down with me. Along with your

other accomplice. You need me, don’t forget that. Otherwise, Ms. Baron here is going to be the one standing in front of a jury, showing them all just how despicable a man you really are.” “She won’t be if you do your damn job.” “I am doing my job. I’m trying to keep her going in the right direction.” “Look, you only have to keep this up until he folds, understand? Don’t get attached in case things turn ugly.” Mitch’s hand curled into a fist. He wanted to punch the man in the face, but the wall sufficed for now. “I’m not getting attached,” he lied. “Don’t worry about me. As long as you hold up your end of the deal. That’s what I care about.

I’m the one possibly throwing my life away here.” “Not if you get rid of her.” “That costs extra, and you can’t afford that. Not yet, anyway.” “But when I can, the option will be open to you. Now, if there’s nothing else, I have business to attend to. I expect you both to clear out in the next hour. Distract her. That is, after all, your job.” There was a loud click as the man hung up, and Mitch was left holding his phone to his ear, fuming. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work. She wasn’t supposed to find the files this quickly. A couple weeks back, he’d been called in to keep an eye on any

potential threats within the company. Ms. Baron had popped up right after she started to ask questions about the wrong files. It didn’t take long to find a way into her life, and Mitch had set himself up on the dating website the second he saw her do the same. He was very thorough with those he watched, and she was easy enough to track through the email she’d signed up with. It was the only way to get close to her without flat out stalking her. He was meant to be a distraction, keep her on her toes and away from the files. But the man who’d hired Mitch had been sloppy. That damn man thought he could get away with everything, and it made him sloppy. Now, Mitch was going

to have to clean up the pieces somehow. He had to find a way to distract Phoebe again, get her mind off pursuing these documents, but she had to keep trusting him. He glanced down the hall and saw a fire alarm on the wall. He went to it quickly and pulled it. A few seconds later, he rushed back to the room just as Phoebe burst out with her purse and coat. “There’s a fire?” “I don’t know,” he said, “the alarms just went off. Come on.” He took her hand and together, they ran up the steps and out the front doors just as sirens sounded in the distance.

Chapter 14 Riley walked Into his office with Ben right behind him. “Listen, I don’t care what Yancey is saying. He stole research from us and I want to know how,” Riley snapped. “This is ridiculous! Two clients in one week? He has to be up to something, Ben, and I need something to throw at him.” “We’re working on it, but there’s no trail to follow yet. We haven’t found any sources of hacking or breakins.” “So you’re saying it’s an inside job?” Ben sat down in front of Riley’s desk and stared at the papers in

his hand. “I don’t want to doubt anyone who works for you, Riley, but it might be the only explanation. How else would he get the information?” “It’s that Chandler woman,” Riley said, plopping down in his chair. “It has to be. None of this shit started until my grandfather died and she showed up at the damn reading of the will.” It all came back to her. He wasn’t sure how, but it did. His grandfather never would’ve divulged company secrets to anyone, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t found a way in. And her relationship with Yancey—that worried him more than anything else. They were close, anyone could tell that. Had she been with him when

she’d been with his grandfather? It couldn’t have something to do with the ranch…he picked up the phone and called the ranch. His great aunts were there, or at least he hoped they were. Maybe his grandfather had something there that could explain this. “What are you doing?” Ben whispered, but Riley held up a finger, indicating for him to wait. After four rings, it went to an answering machine, and he left a quick message for Bethany and Darcie to get back to him as soon as they could. “The ranch. She seemed a bit upset at the reading of the will when he gave the ranch to his sisters.” “You gotta stop being such a

stalker around people,” Ben laughed. “What? I’m a people reader, it’s what I do. That’s how I nailed half our clients at functions. You know that.” His grandfather had taught him a lot about the business, but most importantly, he taught him how to find potential clients and draw them in, understand what it was they wanted so he could give them exactly that. It was how he’d built the business and how Riley intended to keep building it. If he could keep Yancey’s damn hands out of it. “It’s all connected somehow. We’ll figure it out, don’t worry,” Ben said. “But you have to be in a good mood tonight.”

Riley frowned. “Why, what’s tonight?” “Seriously? It’s Friday night, your ice cream date with Anna.” “Yeah, I’m starting to wonder about that, too,” he said, rubbing the stubble on his chin. His beard was growing back, at least, and his hair. He felt a little more like himself. “What? You worried about her now, too?” “She does work for Yancey’s company.” “You know, I really don’t think she’s involved in any of this.” “How can you be so sure?” Ben leaned in real close and said, “Because she’s the girl you gave

your jacket to at your grandfather’s funeral. I recognized her the second Linda walked over with her. She looked happier, granted, but it’s the same girl.” Riley nodded as he thought back to that day. He hadn’t really paid any attention. Just saw a girl in the rain who needed a coat. “Are you sure?” “Pretty positive. I’m good with faces.” “But you don’t think it’s odd that she was at the cemetery the same day I was?” “Okay, if you’re going to start getting all paranoid on me, I’m going to look for a new job. Yancey is up to something, and we’ll figure out what it is. In the meantime, you have less than

two months to find a wife to keep all of this. Focus on that. Let me worry about the rest.” Riley turned in his chair, thinking. “It still seems a bit odd.” “If she was at the cemetery to watch you, then she’d know you’re really Riley Marston and not Ben. Why would she keep pretending that you’re not you?” Riley opened his mouth to argue but couldn’t think of anything to say. “That’s what I thought. Now go home and get ready. I’ll take care of the rest of the afternoon.” “You just like my chair.” Riley laughed as he stood and Ben

immediately took it. “Maybe I do. Nice to feel like I’m in charge for once.” Riley barked a laugh as he headed for the door. “Don’t kid yourself. If I didn’t have you around, half this company would be in ruins. I’m too much of a computer geek. Talk to you tomorrow.” “I want all the details, man, and I mean all the details,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. Riley headed out the door and waved bye to Linda, who was on the phone. He hoped things progressed tonight, at least past the point where their time together always ended abruptly. It would be nice to actually sit

down and have a chat with her…maybe a kiss, maybe more. But who was he kidding? He hardly knew this woman. For all he knew, they’d be alone and she’d start acting like all the other women he dated. Except she still thought he was someone else. The thought made him pause. Should he tell her who he was? Let her know the truth? But part of him liked having her not know him. He didn’t think he could handle it if she started treating him differently. So, for now, he’d let her keep believing he was just Ben. That, and he still wasn’t sure how much he trusted her.

Chapter 15 Phoebe played with her cell as she stood outside her building, waiting for Ben. Their ice cream date was in just a few minutes, and she was shifting from foot to foot, wondering if this was the right thing to do. But they were just friends, right? And she and Mitch weren’t exactly exclusive, at least not that she knew. Thought she did feel a bit guiltier now, after Mitch spent all that time last night trying to help her figure out what to do with those files. Yancey was up to something, and right now, her only ally in all of this was Mitch. “You’re just getting ice cream with a friend,” she whispered to herself. “Just keep it friendly. No need to do

anything else.” But she had a feeling that wasn’t going to be the case. They’d nearly kissed Wednesday night, and she was extremely upset that she hadn’t had a chance to feel those lips against hers. They’d looked so soft and warm. And his arms…feeling his strong arms around her again… There was a warmth in his eyes that Mitch didn’t have. She was willing to give that man a second chance, and she was going to hold up her end of the bargain—until he showed that side of his that she really wanted to slap. “Hey, Anna,” a voice called, and she turned after a second, remembering she was still going by a different name. “You ready for our

date?” She grinned as Ben came up to her, wearing his patent leather jacket, silver stud, and stubble that was quickly growing into a beard. It fit him, all of it. “Yes, I am. It’s been a strange week.” “You’re telling me. Oh, wait,” he said and pulled a small, wrapped package out of his jacket pocket. “Brought this for you.” Phoebe took the package and unwrapped it. Her eyes lit up, and she laughed when she saw what was inside the box. “Cutlass letter opener…cute. Very cute.” “Told you I had one lying around.” She tucked it away in her purse

and slid her hand into the crook of the arm he offered. “So, we’re walking the whole way?” “The weather seemed nice, and I could use the exercise. Hope you don’t mind.” “Not at all. A walk would do me good. Maybe relieve some of my stress.” “How’s your mom holding up?” Phoebe’s smile faltered for just a second. “She’s in a coma, actually, but they think she’ll pull through soon.” “Anna, I’m so sorry. If you need to be there with her…” “No, it’s all right. The doctors said it’s really pointless for me to be

there. I can’t even sit by her side right now,” she said, trying to keep it together. “She’ll pull through, and when she does, I’ll be there for her.” He squeezed her hand with his empty one and held it for just a moment. “Where’s your dad in all of this?” “He’s dead—just last year, actually.” He stopped walking and Phoebe glanced at him, confused. “I just seem to have a big mouth today. I’m sorry, Anna, really.” “No, it’s all right. Just how my life’s been going lately.” “Well, maybe I can help turn it around a bit. Make it seem not so dark and dreary.”

She glanced at him. “With ice cream?” “Hey, ice cream can solve even the worst problems.” He laughed as they continued. “That’s what my mother used to say.” Phoebe’s eyes narrowed. He spoke of her in past tense. “Is she gone?” “Yes, her and my dad, both. Plane crash, a long time ago.” “Well, don’t we make a fitting pair right now,” she said. “I think we need a change of subject.” “Yes, that might be a good idea. So you said you had a crazy week? What’s been going on?” She told him a little bit about her job in the archives room and that she

found something weird going on with the files, but she didn’t say anything about Yancey. This man had some connection to him. All the companies at the function the other night had been from the same field—all cyber-tech security firms looking for big-time investors. Ben’s boss might not have been there, but then again, she had seen him outside Yancey’s office. They knew each other somehow, and until she knew what the specifics were, she would keep the details to herself. “It’s just strange,” she finished as they turned another corner and the ice cream parlor came into view. “Why would someone want to change out files like that? From that long ago?”

When she looked at Ben, she found his eyes staring straight ahead and his jaw clenched tight. What had she said to make him look like that? “Ben, are you all right?” “Hmm? Oh, yeah, sorry, just thought of something. Ah, here we are,” he said and held open the door for her. “Be prepared to have your taste buds blown away.” “I’ll take your word for it.” She gave him one last curious glance but didn’t question him further. Something she’d said had thrown him off. Was it about the files? He couldn’t know about any of that, unless he was in on it with Yancey. Hell, did he work at the same office she did and she just never saw

him? They got their ice cream in waffle cones, chocolate mint chip for her and cookie dough for him, before they found a quiet booth table away from the rest of the evening crowd. “This is a great dinner,” she laughed as she took a large bite. “Holy crap, you weren’t kidding.” It was smooth and sweet, the perfect consistency…she almost drooled at the way it melted in her mouth. She closed her eyes and was pretty sure she moaned before she could stop herself. His laughter brought her back to the table, and her eyes flew open, her cheeks red with embarrassment. “I think you need a moment

alone there,” he teased. “You know, that might not be a bad idea.” She took another bite and watched him eat his ice cream. He was methodical in the way he kept it symmetrical on the cone. She grinned innocently and asked, “What is it you do for a living, Ben? I don’t think you ever told me.” “Nothing exciting. Just a tech monkey, really.” “Sounds better than what I do.” He leaned forward on his elbows and took a huge bite out of his cone. After he swallowed, he shook his head. “It’s really not. I just play around with code all day long, sitting in my office, trying to avoid all the meetings I

can.” “Ha. I just have files to keep me company down in the bowels of the building.” He didn’t say he worked for Yancey’s company, but he didn’t even mention the name of the company. No matter. She’d figure it out eventually. “Usually, I spend my days talking to myself.” “There’s nothing wrong with a bit of craziness now and again. Oh here, you have a little bit…” He reached out a hand and wiped a small smear of ice cream gently from her cheek. He smiled, then glanced away, his face turning a bit red. Phoebe smiled as she wiped the rest of it off her face. “I, uh…wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah? What?” He fiddled with the rest of his cone and glanced anywhere but her face. Whatever it was had him nervous. She hadn’t seen him nervous before. At least not like this. “Do you…like to dance at all? I know a great club not too far from here.” He said it in a rush, and Phoebe had a feeling that was not what he’d wanted to ask. But she answered anyway. “I’ve never really danced very much.” “Well then, seeing as I’m a pirate, I think I might kidnap you and take you anyway.” Phoebe’s heart fluttered in her

chest. If only he could kidnap her for real and take her away from the madness that had become her life. *** Phoebe couldn’t stop laughing as she and Ben stumbled up the stairs to her apartment door. She reached into her purse for her keys, having to stop and catch her breath. “I can’t believe you did that!” “I didn’t know what I was doing!” “I don’t know,” she said, trying to get the key in the lock. “You looked pretty at home up there with those three guys.”

“You didn’t take a video did you?” “You’ll never know,” she said as the door finally swung open and she flipped on a light. “Want to come in for a bit?” She thought he would say no and head back down the hall. That was usually how her dates went. But Ben straightened and said, “I’d be delighted.” He followed her inside and closed the door. She felt his eyes on her as she went around and flipped on the living room lamps and the light in the kitchen. “Well, this is home. Can I get you some coffee? Or wine? Ben?” She turned to find him staring

at the grey suit jacket still hanging by the front door. The way he looked at it, reached out to touch the sleeve and felt inside the pockets, made it seem like he either had a very strange fetish for suit jackets, or he knew that jacket. “This…how long have you had this?” he asked. “A week? A little more? Some guy gave it to me when I was at the cemetery visiting my dad’s grave,” she said, heading over to him. “It was pouring with rain and he said his friend said to give it to me.” “Yeah, I know,” he said as he took it off the hook and slipped into it. The jacket fit like a glove. “It was yours? You were there

that day?” “My grandfather died last week,” he said as he glanced up. “I saw you through the rain. You looked just as distraught as I did and I had…Frank… take you the jacket. I wanted to do more for you, but I had to take care of some things.” “What things?” He took the jacket off and hung it back up on the peg. “That is a story for another time.” She was barely a foot from him and saw a flicker of pain in his blue eyes as they deepened in color. He was haunted by something, and she wanted to know what. She wanted to understand what went on inside this man’s head, this

man with the beard and the silver stud and the beautiful tattoos on his arms. He closed the distance between them and reached out a gentle hand to cup her cheek. Phoebe leaned into his touch, the warmth of his skin slightly rough against her soft face. He bent down, and she stood on tiptoe to meet the kiss. Their lips met, questioning at first, barely touching, but when he started to pull away, she pulled him closer with a hand on his neck. He met her kiss with the same fire that suddenly consumed her. Their lips moved against each other in an intricate dance as his arms wrapped around her, just as strong and comforting as she remembered. They massaged her back as she ran her fingers

through his black hair, longer since the first time they met. This was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Everything was craving for his touch, screaming for her to be closer, infinitely closer. “Anna,” he whispered against her lips. “What?” “I don’t…I don’t know if this is a good idea,” he said, trying to catch his breath as he stared into her eyes. He brushed the hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “There’re some things about me…I haven’t…it’s been a long time since…” She placed a finger on his lips and smiled, trying not to let her shyness

creep back in and ruin the moment. “Whatever happens tonight, I won’t hold it against you. But do you really want to stop kissing me? Because I can tell you, I don’t want to stop kissing you.” Phoebe waited to see what he would do. Her heart sank when he started to pull away, but then he scooped her up in his arms. “Bedroom?” Her stomach clenched as she pointed down the short hallway, unable to form words. Was this really happening? This man, this pirate of a man who had come to her rescue, was going to just sweep her off her feet this easily? She never took risks like this! Why was she doing it now? Because this feels right, the

voice in her head yelled. This is more than right. “It’s perfect,” she whispered aloud. “What?” “Nothing,” she said as he set her gently on the bed. “Uh, I should tell you I guess, I’ve never…you know.” “How is that even possible?” he asked. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I mean that you’re a beautiful woman,” he said, laughing at her narrowed gaze. “I’ve never met the right man,” she whispered and felt her whole body flush with embarrassment.

Ben leaned in, resting his hands on either side of her hips as he kissed the top of her head. “Then I consider myself a very lucky man.” She leaned back as his lips met hers again and all concerns and reasons for worry disappeared. She felt her hands reach up and start to unbutton his shirt, each one taking far too long for her liking, before finally, she saw his naked chest. For a tech guy, he was well muscled with a near-perfect six-pack. Her hands moved against his warm skin, and she felt him shudder at her touch. He straightened long enough to slip out of his shirt, then found her neck. His kisses were soft and long as they made their way down her neck to her collarbone. A

warmth began between her legs, and she squirmed beneath him, needing more contact. His hands slid up under her shirt, and her breath caught as they found their way to the underside of her breasts. Her body arched up to his touch, and she fell back against the bed, pulling him down with her. Phoebe kicked off her heels and heard his boots thud against the floor as well. She giggled as his stubble tickled her neck and against her bare stomach. He pushed her shirt up until she grabbed it and pulled it the rest of the way over her head. Ben sat upright for a moment and stared down at her body. “What?” she asked,

nervousness sliding in again. But he smiled crookedly. “Nothing, just admiring my kidnap victim.” Her laughter turned into a quiet moan as his kisses traveled across her stomach and higher up. His fingers pulled the straps of her bra down before one hand reached behind her and popped the clasps. Phoebe felt her breath quicken as he pulled it away, leaving her completely topless. Her arms wrapped around his muscular shoulders and pulled him to her. His lips closed around one of her nipples, and Phoebe thought she was going to explode. Never had a man touched her like this, and she never wanted it to stop. But she wanted to feel

more of him, have him closer. As he nuzzled her breasts, her hands crept down to his jeans and started to mess with his belt. She got the buckle free and heard him grunt when her hands undid the button and his zipper. She slipped her fingers inside. They met the very erect and warm length of him, hard and ready. She wrapped her hand around it and squeezed gently until he grunted. “Careful now, love,” he whispered. “What? I’m not the only one who gets to have fun.” “No? But I want to make sure you get the full experience,” he said, grinning as he reached down and undid

her jeans and slid them slowly down her hips, inch by painful inch. For a second, Phoebe forgot what underwear she was wearing…until he let out a curse. “You’re trying to kill me.” She smiled wider as her jeans hit the floor and his fingers trailed back up her legs, playing with the lacy black panties she wore. His breath was warm against her, and she sat up, asking him just what he was doing. “Just relax,” he said, gripping her panties with his teeth and pulling them down, baring her to his gaze. Phoebe felt her chest clench, feeling like she should cover herself until his hands gently parted her legs and his lips met an area she’d never thought would be

kissed by a man. And definitely not like that. “Oh my God,” she gasped as he kissed and caressed her. She reached for his shoulders, massaging them, gripping them as the intensity of the feelings grew, building until she thought she would burst into a thousand pieces. Her body twisted as the sharp feelings of ecstasy flowed through her, wave after wave crashing until she thought there was nothing left to feel. “What…oh, my God, that…was incredible.” “And I’m just getting started.” “Oh no, you don’t get to have all the fun,” she said and wiggled out from under him. She pushed him backwards until he lay flat on the bed,

and she straddled him, kissing his bare chest as her hands worked at his jeans. “Could you not have worn looser pants?” She laughed as she worked them down his hips and legs, dragging his boxers along with them. Ben started to say something, but his words were cut off when her fingers wrapped around his length once more. She paused, admiring the smoothness of him as she moved her hands slowly up and down. He groaned, trying to touch her, but she stayed out of his reach, enjoying the look on his face as his body arched slightly off the bed. She would have kept going, but he sat up and pulled her onto his lap so her legs were wrapped around his hips.

He held her up; then, as he kissed her, Phoebe felt him slip inside. It was tight at first, but after the third gentle thrust, she relaxed, letting him hold her as she stared into his eyes, those deep blue eyes that held so much caring, so much of something she couldn’t yet see. But she wanted to. She wanted nothing more than to become a part of his life and to be with him. He moved within her, and for those few moments, Phoebe felt home. She groaned, and a moment later, he joined her, their bodies quaking against each other as pleasure rippled through them before they fell sideways, panting. Phoebe grinned as aftershocks continued to roll over her. Ben propped

himself up on his elbow and trailed his fingers down her stomach. “So, was it everything you expected?” he asked, still trying to catch his breath. “No,” she whispered. “It was more.” She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down for a long, deep kiss. He clutched her body to his, returning the kiss, until the heat between them started to grow again. Phoebe laughed as he grabbed the quilt and pulled it up over their bodies. *** Phoebe felt warmth on her face, and it was bright behind her eyelids. Morning? She yawned and stretched, reaching across her bed,

searching for Ben. But the bed was empty. She sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover herself. She glanced around the room, but Ben was nowhere in sight. His clothes were gone, too. Had he just left her? Just like that? “Seriously? That’s bullshit—” she muttered until she heard something in the kitchen. A dish broke. She froze, searching for her cell, but it wasn’t on the nightstand. There were footsteps… was it Ben? Or did someone break in? She grabbed a t-shirt from the floor, which covered most of her, then reached for the lamp on the nightstand. She unplugged it, took the shade off, then tiptoed from the bedroom and down the

short hall. Someone was rustling around in her cabinets. Her hands shook as she raised the lamp over her shoulder like a bat. She was at the edge of the hallway…so close to whoever was in her kitchen…she rushed around the corner and yelled. “Holy shit!” “Ben?” He stood there, wearing his jeans and nothing else, holding two cups of coffee. Phoebe stopped her swing just in time to bring the lamp down on the counter instead of the intruder’s head. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked. “You…you weren’t in bed…I thought you’d left,” she muttered. “You

scared me.” “I scared you?” She stared at him, then started to laugh. “I’m sorry. I woke up and heard the crash.” “Yeah, sorry, I broke a mug trying to find your coffee.” He nodded to the pieces in the sink. “I hope it wasn’t a favorite.” “Not even close,” she said as she admired his shirtless body standing in her kitchen. It was quite a sight…then she caught his eyes traveling the length of her body, and she realized she was hardly wearing anything. “Uh, so…you made coffee?” “And breakfast,” he said, lips curling into a crooked grin. “Hope you

don’t mind.” She glanced over at the two plates of eggs and bacon. He’d even made toast that was sitting in the toaster, waiting to be taken out. “A man who cooks.” “Oh, trust me, I do more than just cook.” He gave her a coffee mug, then set his down and proceeded to finish making breakfast. Phoebe took a seat at the counter on the opposite side and watched, not even caring anymore that she, too, was half naked. When was the last time that had even happened? Oh wait, she knew—never. It had never, ever gotten to this point in her relationships. That left her with more

questions than she wanted. What was she supposed to do now? The morning after? She’d half expected him to be gone, anyway, but he’d stayed and made breakfast. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?” he asked as he slid a plate towards her. She played with her eggs as she tried to decide what to tell him. Should she make something up? The voice in her head nagged her to make this last as long as possible. “Nothing, really. Just another Saturday.” “No plans to go on another date with your…other man?” he asked, raising a brow as he shoved a whole piece of bacon in his mouth with half a

piece of toast. Phoebe laughed but shook her head. “No, no such plans exist.” “Good.” “Why, what are your plans?” “I have a few meetings I have to go to. Sadly, those take place on the weekends when we have guests from out of town,” he said. “Oh.” Phoebe took a long sip of coffee, hoping to hide her disappointment. “That’s all right. I understand.” Typical. You have a freaking awesome night together, but he books it after making you think he might actually hang around… “Anna, did you hear me?” “Hmm? Sorry, what?”

“I said, I have those meetings to go to unless there’s a very good reason for me not to go.” Phoebe stared down at her coffee, then back up at his blue eyes smiling right back at her. “What would be considered a good reason?” “That depends,” he said. “It’s usually something pretty serious. Something that means I’m unable to get out of my apartment…or someone else’s apartment.” She wrapped her arms across her chest and pretended to shiver. “I am feeling a bit under the weather. Cold really, right down to the bone. I don’t think I can take care of myself very well today. And I have so much to do around

here.” Ben walked around the counter, looking very concerned. “I can’t leave a very dear friend home alone and sick. I think I should help warm you up first,” he said with a wink. “A shower, maybe?” “That sounds like a wonderful idea.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek, then made his way to her lips. Hers parted for him, and they were both lost as their bodies were pulled towards each other. Phoebe laughed and took off down the hall, tossing her t-shirt behind her as she ducked into the bathroom. Ben was right behind her. ***

Riley tried hard to catch his breath as Anna rolled off him in the bed. “You’re a quick learner,” he muttered. “About some things, it seems.” He rolled back to his side and pulled her close, kissing her again, feeling the length of her body against his, slicked with sweat from the last hour. His hand trailed down her shoulder and the slope of her breast just so he could see her eyes darken and a shiver pass over her body. “Glad to see you had a good reason to miss your meetings. You sure you don’t need to answer your cell?” she asked. It had gone off several times throughout the day. Riley had already left several messages with Ben, telling him

to find a reason for his CEO to miss some of the most important meetings of the quarter. But being with Anna, a woman who was quickly finding a way into his heart…that was more important than anything else. A woman he could spend the rest of his life with. A woman who could not take the place of, but be by his side instead of, his Meredith. Maybe his grandfather was on to something after all. It was time to move on, and Anna might be the one to help him do it. “Nah,” he said. “I won’t be missed that much.” “They’ve called like ten times.”

“Yeah, well, they have everything they need.” He laughed, kissing her nose. “Stop making me feel guilty for missing work.” He saw a cloud pass through her eyes, and he wanted to ask her what it was about when her cell rang next. It buzzed a few times on the nightstand before it went to voicemail. She didn’t look away from him. Then it started to buzz again. “Do you need to get that?” She rolled over, and he felt a sudden chill from where her body had been keeping his warm. She picked it up and muttered something, but Riley didn’t hear before she turned it off and set it back down. “Nope, nothing important.”

“Not about your mom?” “Nope. I don’t expect to hear anything about her for a few days still. If at all.” She sat up and glanced around her room, lost for a second. “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.” She hopped out of bed and threw on a robe, leaving Riley to follow behind after he flung his jeans back on. “Anna, you all right?” “Yeah, just…there’s a lot going on and this right here…what is this?” “A great Saturday afternoon that seems like it’s going to carry on into a great Saturday night.” She shifted, wringing her hands, and Riley realized part of her didn’t believe this was happening. She

was nervous, acted like he was going to walk out that door and never look back. He went to her and took her hands gently in his. “Anna, listen, I have no idea what this is, but I’m not just going to run out of that door and never see you again.” “And why should I believe you?” Her words turned bitter, and he understood too late that, just like he had been hurt by losing the love of his life in an accident, someone had hurt her before, too, and she had yet to recover. She pulled her hands out of his and stalked into the kitchen. “First he left me, then my dad died, and now Mom is losing her mind! I’ve been left to pick up

the pieces in too many parts of my life. I haven’t let anyone in since then. Never.” Riley ran a hand over his beard, hating the fact that he was still lying to her, but he couldn’t reveal the whole truth, not yet. But he could give her something so she would trust him. “Listen, Anna, that day at the cemetery, the things I needed to take care of…I was visiting the grave of my dead fiancée.” Her eyes softened immediately. “What? Ben, I’m so sorry.” “We were in an accident four years ago,” he said quietly, as the distant wail of sirens started to sound in his ears. He tried to stay planted in her apartment and not slide back to those

horrible few minutes that changed his life forever. “Drunk driver hit us, or that’s what they said. But Meredith…she died at the scene. Never even made it to the hospital.” Overwhelmed with emotion, he made his way to the couch and sat down, trying to steady his heart. Anna followed him and curled up on the opposite side. “I had no idea.” “I wasn’t going to tell you, but I wanted you to know…I know what it feels like to have the world pulled out from under your feet.” She scooted closer and reached for his hand. They sat like that for a few moments, both lost in thoughts of where their lives had taken them, each

of them lost in futures that would quickly turn grim if they didn’t find a way to get free of them soon. Riley wanted nothing more than to tell her in that moment exactly what he needed from her. That he needed a wife so he could keep his fortune, but if he said a word, it would scare her off. No sane woman would ever agree to that after only one official date and a few rolls in a bed. No, Anna deserved more time before he tossed that at her feet. And he would do his best to give it to her. “And I just had a broken heart from some jackass,” she muttered. He laughed and clucked her chin gently with his thumb. “Hey, a

broken heart is a broken heart.” “And you know what’s good for a broken heart?” He waited to see what she would do as she jumped off the couch and started to rummage through her cabinets, pulling out a box. “Brownies!” *** They’d completely lost track of time. They’d made the brownies in between bouts of more love-making in the kitchen…and on the couch. Phoebe wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, but she just couldn’t seem to get enough of this man who’d stumbled into her life. She’d asked him about his grandfather, and they’d settled down on the floor of the living room, using whatever blankets

she could find to make them a bed. There was a half-eaten plate of brownies nearby as they snuggled up next to each other, and he told her all about his life. Or at least most of it. He was trying to trust her, she could tell by everything he was telling her, but he was still keeping something from her. The question was how big it was. Would it affect her too much in the end? But the end of what? She was hiding a few things from him as well, but she forgot all about them as she listened to him talk. His voice was gentle, and he smiled as he told her about the type of man his grandfather had been. Strong, honest, a hard worker who had built a company

from the ground up. That was the man he strived to be like. “What type of company?” she asked. He hesitated for just a second before he said, “Cyber Vault, Inc.” Phoebe pulled back from him slightly. “You work for that huge company? Wait, your grandfather built that company?” “Not exactly,” he said but his lips twitched. “He helped the man that built it, and in turn, when he passed, I took his place. I’m a bit higher up in the company but still just a tech monkey. Don’t have the amount of pull my grandfather did with the CEO, but I’m pretty happy with where I’m at.”

“That’s interesting. Guess that’s why I saw you at Yancey’s company the other day.” “Yeah, my boss sent me to find out some information about a merger for us that almost fell through.” Phoebe tapped her fingers on her leg as she sat up and debated what to tell him. She knew Yancey was up to something that concerned research that she had never seen before, or at least not that she remembered. She’d only been there a few years, long enough to know what had already been archived by the person before her. Did this have something to do with what was going on? Whatever that was? Mitch had said she needed to find someone she trusted

to tell her findings to. “Anna? What’s wrong? You look a bit agitated. Mad I work for your competitor?” he teased. “No I just…there’s something I need to show you, and I think it has to do with this merger of yours. Just hang on a second.” She stood, completely forgetting she was naked, and watched Riley swallow hard as something else grew even harder. She winked at him, said maybe later, and dashed back into her bedroom for the files. Her phone, still off, sat on her nightstand, and she thought she should at least check to see if Charlotte called. Not that she wanted the sudden dose of reality of what awaited her outside of

this room, but she needed to know what was going on. The second she turned it on, she got twelve notifications of missed calls and three texts. The messages were from Charlotte saying her mom was fine and wanting to know how her date went. The phone calls were all from Mitch. He only left a couple of voicemails, and she listened to them quickly, peeking down the hall at Ben. He still lounged on the floor, flipping through something. Her photo album? She grinned until she remembered what pictures were in there. Spring break vacation when she and Charlotte did their craziest stunts and partied. The only time Phoebe ever really let loose.

She felt her whole body start to flush with embarrassment until Mitch’s voice filled her ear. “Just checking in. Tried calling you a few times. Wanted to make sure everything was all right. Maybe we can make plans to meet up Sunday for dinner? Call me back.” She moved onto the next one, still from him, saying pretty much the same thing. But it was the last message that made her hand grip the phone. “Listen, just want to make sure you’re all right. After finding all those weird files the other day, I started to do some digging of my own and I think we might need to leave this alone. There was some guy following me today—looked a

bit rough around the edges. Just text me or something, let me know you’re fine. I might just swing by so I know you’re good.” Swing by? Oh no, he couldn’t swing by while she had Ben here. She was pretty sure that would piss him off and ruin whatever deal they might be on their way to making to save her mom. She texted him back quickly, saying she was fine, just stuck at home sick. It was a lame-ass excuse, but hopefully, it would keep him from knocking on her door sometime today. Considering how late it was, there was no reason for him to be out. She hadn’t even noticed the time passing, but it was nearing midnight. Had they been sitting there

talking that long? It brought a smile to her face, being able to be so close to someone for this stretch of time. Almost like a real relationship. She waited until Mitch texted her back, then set her phone back down and went into her closet. Beneath all of her shoes was a tiny floor safe her parents had made her install when she’d first moved in all those years ago. She hadn’t had anything in it for the longest time, not until she got the files from the archives room. The ones Yancey had been messing with. Phoebe thought about it for one more second before she snatched them up and headed back into the living room to find Ben laughing hysterically at the

pictures in his hands. “You have got to tell me what happened here,” he gasped. “Really. How did you get your hair to be that many colors?” “It was an art festival with lots of booze,” she said, laughing right along with him. “We were trashed and had way too much money on hand, so they dyed our hair and painted our faces, and I’m pretty sure I woke up the next day with full-body henna tattoos.” Ben glanced up and down her body, his eyes narrowing as he took in every inch, making Phoebe squirm with wanting to pounce on him. “I think you’d look pretty good like that.” “Yeah, well, too bad. No

pictures of that.” She pulled the album out of his hands and dropped a stack of files onto his lap. “Here, this is what I wanted to show you. If you don’t mind, I’m going to the bathroom. Be right back.” *** Riley looked at the file and saw Yancey Securities on all the folders. He opened the top one, then sat up straighter and set them all on the floor, opening them one by one. The pages were extremely familiar, research documents and notes he’d seen before. He’d seen all of them before. These pages had come directly from his own company’s files and been planted in these folders. They were very thin files,

though. Barely two or three pages in each. Yancey was missing research, which meant these files…he was trying to create a paper trail from his own company. He peeked down the hall, but Anna was still out of sight. He reached for his cell, which they’d brought into the living room earlier for some music, and called Ben. “Dude, where the hell have you been?” Ben whispered. “I’ve been fielding questions all weekend for you. Did you get kidnapped or something?” “Why are you whispering?” “Because normal people are asleep at this time. It’s almost two…that, and Linda may have slept over last

night.” “And you’re giving me a hard time about spending a little time with my girl.” “Your girl,” Ben said just as Riley realized what he’d said. “You’ve only seen her, what, three times?” He heard another voice in the background and figured Linda had woken up from Ben’s sudden high pitched voice. “It’s Riley. Think he’s getting ready to propose.” “I never said that,” Riley snapped, then glanced down the hall again. Still clear. “Look, I need you to do me a favor. Anna is turning out to be a bit more helpful in another area than just the marriage issue.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that? Was someone having shy guy problems? You know…” Ben said, and Riley could picture him smirking as he waggled his eyebrows. “Below the belt?” Riley gripped the phone harder. “Do you want to be fired?” Linda yelled at Ben to stop being an idiot or she’d smack him herself. “All right, what do you need at this time of morning?” “Remember those files, the research notes Yancey claimed he had?” “Yeah? What about them?” He picked one up and skimmed through the pages. “I think Anna just dropped them in my lap.”

Chapter 16 Phoebe stirred in bed but was too warm to bother getting up. It was Sunday morning, she knew that, at least. What time exactly, she didn’t care. There was a naked man next to her with his arms wrapped around her, and she really didn’t want this weekend to end. It had been the best two nights of her life. If only she could have a few more like it, to figure out what this was. Before she had to settle with Mitch Harper to save her mom’s life. That thought brought her back to reality, but she still didn’t move besides fluttering her eyes open. Something else woke her. A knock?

Nope, it was Sunday. No one was coming over today. But she guessed she should probably get up at some point and see what state her apartment was in. There was another noise and she sat up, glancing at her bedroom door. Ben muttered something in his sleep and wrapped his arm around her a bit tighter, pulling her to his side. “Back to bed,” he muttered. “It’s gotta be pretty late,” she laughed. “So? Still Sunday.” He pulled her close and kissed the tip of her nose. “We still have a few more hours.” “Thought I heard something.” “Nope, you didn’t hear anything.”

She laid back down, giggling as his fingers found her ticklish sides— until she distinctly heard the front door open and Charlotte yell her name. Phoebe shot up in bed, trying to cover herself as Ben cursed. Charlotte appeared in the doorway a second later. “There you are! Why haven’t you texted me back—is there a man in that bed with you?” Phoebe was about to answer when Ben sat up straight, blankets covering his vital parts, and held out a hand. “Ben, at your service.” Phoebe’s head fell into her open palm as she watched Charlotte slowly reach a hand out and shake his, her eyes grazing over what parts of his

body she could see. “Nice to meet you, I guess. What the hell is going on?” “Pretty sure I don’t need to explain,” she muttered, hoping her friend would take the hint and disappear, but she just stood there, arms crossed over her chest, brow raised, tapping her foot. “What? Can’t a girl have a good weekend with a guy? Jeez, you’re always telling me to get a life, so I did.” She clutched the sheet tighter to her chest until finally, Charlotte burst out laughing. “I can see you did. But someone else has been texting me all weekend, trying to figure out what’s wrong with you,” she said. “Made it sound like you were dying.” Phoebe’s face scrunched.

“Sorry about that…I may have lied to said person.” “Got it. Well, I guess I’ll just wait out here to fill you in on other stuff,” Charlotte said as she winked at Ben. But she kept standing there until Ben cleared his throat, pulling the sheet a bit tighter around his waist. “Charlotte, you mind?” Phoebe snapped. “What? Oh, yeah, sorry. Wait, out here, just…sorry.” She pulled the door shut behind her, and Phoebe fell back on her pillows as Ben started to laugh. This was a nightmare ending to their perfect weekend. Her best friend crashing in on them to remind her that she had to call Mitch at some point today

to make plans for their next date. Why couldn’t she just keep Ben? Tell him what was going on? But he didn’t have the money she needed. Probably made the same as she did, and there was no way she could ask him for a favor like that. They’d just met and spent a fantastic weekend together. Asking for something like that just didn’t feel right. Nothing about this situation feels right, she thought. Except when I’m with Ben. “She seems great,” Ben said as he got out of bed and stretched. “Yeah, she has her moments,” Phoebe said as she watched him pick up his clothes from the floor. “I wish it

didn’t have to end like this.” “End? I plan on seeing you this week, my dear, sweet Anna,” he told her. Phoebe felt her heart flutter at the sincerity in his eyes. “You do?” “Yes. This weekend was great. Think we both needed it.” She grinned as he walked around the bed, jeans on but still unbuttoned, then leaned in and kissed her. The kiss deepened, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him back down with her on the bed. A few minutes later, they both finally left her bedroom to find Charlotte grinning as she sat at the breakfast bar, nursing a cup of coffee. “Well, don’t you

two just look smashing?” Phoebe shot her a warning look as Ben made his way to the front door. He picked up the suit jacket still hanging there and told Phoebe he’d call her tomorrow to see what her plans were for the week. He gave her one last, toecurling kiss, then left. Phoebe closed the door, leaning against it and feeling as if she was waking up from some crazy fantasy. “So, that was the guy the jacket belonged to? Damn, Phoebe. How the hell did you find him?” “That’s the pirate,” she said lightly as she headed into the kitchen to make breakfast. Check that, it was nearly three in the afternoon. Maybe she’d start

making dinner instead. “We…ah, found each other again.” “I want all the dirty details since you’re obviously no longer a virgin!” “Seriously?” she asked, but couldn’t even be mad about it. It had been magical. As cheesy as that sounded, it was the only way she could accurately describe what being with Ben was like. As if she’d found her pirate prince, and he’d taken her on this incredible journey for a few nights. If only it could last… “What’s with that face?” Charlotte interrupted her thoughts. “Nothing, it’s just…I obviously can’t keep dating him.”

“Why? ‘Cause of Mitch? Oh, please, Phoebe, you can dump him.” “Yeah, I can, but what happens when Mom wakes up? I need the money. You heard Doctor Chambers. She’s going to need it the second she’s cleared for surgery, otherwise…I’ll be burying another parent, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself.” Charlotte laid her hand over her friend’s on the counter and held it tight as tears started to slip from Phoebe’s eyes. She didn’t wipe them away. Couldn’t bear to raise a hand to do it. They were a harsh reminder of what she had to do soon. What her life was about to become, all because of the love she had for her mother. Besides,

there was the issue at work now, too. Files that she needed to explore to see what the hell Yancey was up to and to save her ass from whatever he was about to do. *** Riley unlocked his penthouse door, still smiling as he tossed his suit jacket and the files on the nearby couch. Clapping sounded and he glanced up to find Ben and Linda sitting in his kitchen, eating takeout Chinese. “Seriously? I’m going to take away your key.” “What? We wanted to be here to congratulate you on your victory.” Linda smacked Ben on the shoulder as Riley headed over and picked up a container of fried rice. “It

was a pretty great weekend.” “Yeah, and you even got some dirt on Yancey.” “Did we? All I have are those files Anna gave me. They’re over there with my jacket.” “She just gave them to you?” Riley dug around in the container and didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure what Anna had intended with the files, but he needed them to figure out what the hell Yancey was doing, poking around his company research and trying to pass it off as belonging to Yancey Securities. “You didn’t just take them, did you?” Linda scolded. “Riley, she’s going to be pissed when she finds out!”

“If she finds out, you mean.” Linda glanced between him and Ben, who was currently laughing into his own container of rice. “As much time as you spend around women, you really don’t understand us, do you?” She muttered something else under her breath, but Riley chose to ignore it. “Did you get a chance to find anything on those files yet?” Ben shrugged. “Yes and no. I can tell you that the originals are still with us. However, there are records of several copies being made and sent to an outside source. Tried to trace them but couldn’t get it, so tech’s working to see what they can dig up.” “At least Yancey can’t fully

claim the research is his, then.” “Yes and no,” Ben said. “It’s a bit of a grey area. We’re going to have to tread lightly. You might have the upper hand, but we still don’t know what Yancey’s end game is. Whatever he’s planning with Chandler, we’re going to have to get on top of it.” “The only way to shut this down completely is for me to marry and be done with it.” Linda grinned as she leaned across the counter. “Then what are you waiting for?” “What do you mean?” “You just spent the entire weekend with Anna. You obviously feel pretty damn close to her, more so than

any other woman since Meredith died. Ask her and get it over with!” Riley choked on his rice and pounded his chest to clear his throat. “I can’t just ask her to marry me! You remember how long it took me to ask Meredith? And then we never even got the chance…” He trailed off, remembering how he’d only proposed to her a few weeks before the accident. His heart sank in his chest, and suddenly, he wasn’t hungry any more. He set the container down and told them he was going to shower and change. They could talk more about what to do with Yancey when he was done. He heard Linda telling Ben she should go apologize and him telling her

to just give Riley a minute. He’d be fine. But would he? Riley wasn’t even sure himself. The weekend had been great and Anna was incredible, but was he really ready to take the next step this fast? Four years was a long time, but there were days he still talked to Meredith when no one else was around. When he felt her beside him as he slept. She had been his world, and she’d been ripped away from him. Riley picked up the picture on his dresser of the two of them together. They’d been laughing about something when the picture was taken. He couldn’t even remember what it was anymore. His fingers brushed the glass over her face, and he felt a single tear slip down

his cheek. “What do I do, Meredith?” he whispered. “What am I supposed to do?” But she didn’t answer. Riley set the picture down so he could change. As he pulled his shirt off, he caught the scent of Anna’s perfume. Vanilla and something else…cinnamon? He breathed it in, but his face fell. How could he ask her to marry him when she didn’t even know his real name? She needed to know the truth, and if that meant the next time they met he had to come clean, then that was what he’d do. He just hoped he still thought the same thing when he saw her again.

Chapter 17 Phoebe avoided everyone she could at the office on Monday and kept to herself in the archives. Her stacks of files had somehow grown over the weekend, so she put her head down and went to work. Her eyes kept glancing back at the file cabinets behind her, wanting to dig through and see what else she could find that Yancey had screwed up. Thankfully, he hadn’t stopped by at all yet today, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t messed with anything else while she was gone. “Just get through your work,” she muttered to herself. “You’re meeting with Mitch tonight, so you have to be in

a good mood.” They were meeting for dinner at her place, mostly for a date but also to get a better game plan for what to do with the files. She needed to document everything she’d found before she took it to anyone on the board. If they would even listen to her. Yancey had power in this company, influence. She was just the girl from the archives room. Her desk phone rang, and she jumped, shrieking quietly. “Damn it,” she whispered, then tried to calm herself before she answered. “Ms. Baron in archives.” “Ah yes, Ms. Baron,” Yancey said on the other end, “I need to see you

in my office.” “What for, sir?” Her gut clenched as her other hand gripped the edge of her desk. “We have a few things we need to discuss. New protocols for the filing system.” She glanced around, trying to think of an excuse, but nothing came to mind. “Right now, sir?” she asked pathetically. “Yes, Ms. Baron, unless you are no longer adequate to keep track of our data and I need to hire someone else. I expect you up here in less than five minutes.” He hung up before she could say another word. Phoebe set the phone down and

quickly saved the data she’d been entering, then headed for the door. The ride up to Yancey’s office seemed to take forever, her heart thudding in her ears as she tried to figure out if he’d seen what she was up to. Or worse. Did he know that she’d been poking around the same documents he’d been switching out? He could fire her on the spot, and she couldn’t do a thing about it. Could he have her arrested? What if he was trying to pin this all on her? When the doors dinged open, Phoebe was white as a sheet, and her steps were shaky as she waded through the busy cubicles with the techs working away. None of them even glanced at her as she walked by. Hardly anyone knew

who she was. They wouldn’t even raise an eyebrow if Yancey got rid of her. Her feet froze a few feet from his assistant’s desk. What if he did try to get rid of her? “Ms. Baron, are you all right?” the blonde assistant asked. Phoebe couldn’t even remember her name. “Ms. Baron?” “Yes, I’m sorry. I just…forgot something back in my office.” “Well, Mr. Yancey is ready to see you,” she said. “And you know he does not like to be kept waiting.” “No…no, he doesn’t.” Phoebe took a deep breath, smoothed a hand through her hair, and forced a smile onto her face as she opened the heavy metal

office door. “Mr. Yancey?” “Ah, Ms. Baron, please come in and have a seat.” She glanced up at him. He was dressed to the nines, as always, but he wasn’t alone. There was a red-headed woman sitting on the corner of his desk. Her black skirt was hiked almost all the way up to her hip, and Phoebe blushed at the blatant show of skin. That, and when the woman turned, she eyed Phoebe up and down with a look of contempt. Granted, Phoebe did not own the best clothes in the world, but she thought her navy-blue pantsuit was just fine. She readjusted her jacket as she sat down, and the woman smirked. A diamond necklace hung around her neck and down

towards the cleavage protruding from her blouse. Matching earrings and bracelet, too. Phoebe knew they had to cost a pretty penny. Figured. She got called into the office to deal with the boss and his new bimbo. “Ms. Baron, I’d like you to meet my new consultant and soon to be partner, Ms. Diane Chandler. She is going to be helping us with some new guidelines for my company.” “Nice to meet you,” Phoebe said and held out a hand, which the woman ignored with a slight huff. “Does that mean the filing system is being updated, too?” she asked as her hand fell lamely back at her side. Yancey nodded as Diane

hopped down from his desk. “Yes, she will be overseeing the new system for the next few weeks. Make sure everything is in place that needs to be and that the new rules are being followed correctly.” “Well then, I look forward to the changes,” Phoebe said, trying to keep the smile on her face as her mind started racing. She was going to have to work with this woman? It was going to be a nightmare. She hoped that was all he was going to tell her, but Yancey didn’t say she could leave. He just sat there, staring at her like a hawk. “Is there something else?” “Yes. I’m afraid, due to the new system, certain files are now going

to be blocked from your access. It’s just how the new security is going to work. You understand?” She frowned. “How am I supposed to organize and keep the archives up to date if I can’t access them?” “That’s where I come in,” Diane said, still smirking as she played with her diamond pendant. “I don’t understand.” “She’s not here just to train you. She’ll be in charge of all the highly classified files.” “Does the board know about this?” Phoebe asked before she could stop herself. Both of them glared at her, and

she shifted in her chair, wanting nothing more than to bolt out the door. Instead, she tried to apologize for being out of line, but Yancey held up his hand to stop her muttering. “You will do as you are told and not ask questions about things that are above you,” he snapped. “Otherwise, you will find yourself quickly without a job. I’m sure your mother would understand, seeing as how you are her sole caretaker.” Phoebe blanched as if she’d been slapped in the face. “You…you’re bringing my mother’s illness into this?” “I don’t think you understand. I will do whatever it takes to protect the well-being of this company, so yes, Ms.

Baron, I will use whatever means necessary to keep my company’s secrets safe from everyone, inside and outside of these walls,” he said, standing as he spoke. “Is that clear? Or do you need a harsher reminder?” She shook her head, clasping her hands together to keep them from shaking. “Good. Then Diane will see you first thing tomorrow to start the new system. I expect you to treat her well, or you will have to answer to me. Now, be a good employee and get the hell out of my office.” She didn’t need to be told twice as he stared down at her with bared teeth. The redhead smirked wider

as Phoebe scampered out the door, almost smacking herself in the face with it, she pulled it so hard. The woman barked a laugh, and Phoebe felt her cheeks flush as she hurried past the assistant’s desk and all the way to the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator. It was hard to breathe when she finally reached her office, her chest clenched tight. What the hell was happening to her life? She never got involved in things like this or pushed the boundaries. Yet here she was, digging around where she didn’t need to be. To have him threaten her like that, to use her mother… She couldn’t go to anyone. No one would believe her, and he’d find a way around it like he

always did. He’d gotten away with everything else so far. No, maybe Phoebe’s best option was to back out of this. Go back to keeping her head down and doing her work. The less she knew, the less danger she was in, right? Somehow, she didn’t think that would save her. She’d already seen too much. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to check. There was a message from Mitch, confirming their dinner plans. Her finger hovered over the ignore button, but she texted him back and said she was looking forward to it. She just hoped she could make herself believe the lie and get through the evening without any

problems. *** Mitch watched Phoebe rush out of Yancey’s office and gritted his teeth. What the hell did that man do now? He’d had everything under control. There was no need to threaten the poor girl. She was in way over her head, and she was starting to realize it. She’d been up to something over the weekend, but Mitch hadn’t figured out what yet. The text about her being sick was bull. What he wasn’t sure about was what bothered him more: the fact that she might have been with another guy, or the fact that she’d tried to hide it from him. Not that he cared. It wasn’t his business. It was only his job to distract her and

keep her out of the way. “And what a fine job you’re doing, you idiot,” he muttered as he headed into Yancey’s office. “…think about it? Really, William, sometimes you’re just a blind fool,” Diane snapped as Mitch walked in. “What is he doing here?” “I called him here. So, what exactly did she find over the weekend? Did she talk to anyone?” “Not that I’m aware of, but then again, I didn’t talk to her all weekend,” he said as he picked the glass paperweight off Yancey’s desk and tossed it from hand to hand, smirking as the man’s eyes followed it closely. “Said she was sick.”

Yancey gritted his teeth when Mitch almost dropped the paperweight. “And you don’t believe her? Will you please put that down? It was very expensive.” “As is everything else you own,” Mitch leered but set the weight down. “And no, I don’t believe her. Think she might have been avoiding me.” Diane laughed. “Not so good with the ladies, after all.” “She likes me just fine. But there’s something else going on.” Yancey got to his feet and crossed to the drinks table in the corner. “I am paying you a pretty penny to keep an eye on our little detective. She is the

only loose end at the moment. Don’t make me hire someone else to take care of the issue.” Mitch’s hand curled into a fist. “You don’t need to go to the extreme.” “Prove it. Make sure she does not turn into a liability. When are you seeing her next?” “Tonight. I’ll see if I can’t convince her that if she tells anyone, she’ll be starting something that she won’t be able to get out of easily.” “Good, then get to it. Your next payment will be transferred into your account tonight,” Yancey said, then waved him away as he turned to Diane. Mitch headed slowly to the door. “What did you bring me from Marston’s

place?” Mitch heard files slap onto the glass desk surface. “More research to back up your claims.” “No one noticed?” “’Course not. I’m quiet, cover my tracks well. No one will figure it out until it’s too late.” Mitch let the door close behind him on her words. “Careful, bitch, I know more than you think.”

Chapter 18 Phoebe heard the knock from her bedroom and jumped. Mitch. She had invited him over and thought it would be fine, but after spending the weekend with Ben, she wasn’t sure what to do anymore. Her heart was torn in so many directions, she wondered why it hadn’t just completely shattered yet. She could always tell Ben the truth, but then, where would that get her? She needed the money for her mother’s surgery, no matter what. She would just have to tell Ben the truth and break it off before she got too attached. Mitch Harper was her future. “Coming,” she called out,

hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt. By the time she reached the front door, she had steeled herself and put a smile on her face as she pulled it open. “Hey,” Mitch said, holding up a bottle of wine. “Hope red was okay. Maybe this time you won’t throw it on me.” Phoebe found herself laughing at his silly grin as he stepped inside. “Can’t make any promises.” “Smells great,” he said. “What did you cook?” “Ha! Me cook on a Monday? No, that would be takeout from the local Italian place,” she told him, pointing towards the pasta dishes already

prepared and steaming hot. “Delivered just a few minutes ago.” “Well, either way, I think it’s great.” He asked her where the glasses were and went to pour the wine as she set the plates out at her tiny table along with the silverware. Then, with his help, started to carry over the dishes. “So, was your Monday a bad Monday or a good Monday?” he asked, once they were settled and he’d slid her the glass of dark red wine. She took a long sip and let it sit on her tongue, enjoying the fruity taste before it slid down her throat. “Depends on how I look at it, really. I still have a job.” “Did you almost lose it?”

“Apparently I have an attitude problem…that, and I think Yancey is on to me.” “Did he realize you took the files?” “No, not yet, at least, but he’s just hired some new consultant lady,” she snapped, feeling her cheeks flush from the wine and her anger. “I no longer have full access to the company’s records, so she has to be brought in to do what I can’t.” Mitch frowned as he chewed the ravioli and swallowed. “That’s bullshit.” “That’s pretty much what I said. And then my job got threatened,” she said, twirling her fork through her

spaghetti. All she did was find some weird files, and now she had the CEO watching her like a hawk, and this woman was going to be around constantly. She wouldn’t be able to think half the time, let alone get any real work done. Maybe it was a sign she should quit after all. Then again…she glanced sideways at Mitch. If she did marry a rich man like him, she wouldn’t have to work anymore. Did she take the risk and quit, hoping he’d hold up his end of the deal? Her stomach roiled at the idea, and she almost lost what little dinner she’d eaten. Having no solid source of income was not where she wanted to be. Or solely dependent on someone else.

She’d never lived like that and didn’t want to start now. Even if she did marry him, she’d be bored all the time if she didn’t work. There would be time to take care of her mom, but even then, what would she do with her time? The foster kids. She’d have time for them again, being there to help guide them. Maybe this arrangement wouldn’t be so bad after all. “You seem awful thoughtful right now,” Mitch said, giving her a little nudge with his elbow. “Come on, what are you thinking about?” She smiled and glanced past him into the living room where, just yesterday morning, she’d been on the floor beside a naked man, talking and

chatting and making love until they’d finally made their way back into her bedroom. She’d opened up in his arms. The smile fell from her face, and she cleared her throat, trying to hide the sadness weighing her down. “Just thinking that maybe… maybe I need to make a few changes in my life.” “Oh yeah? Like what?” “Go after Yancey and take him down a peg or two.” Phoebe wasn’t sure where the sudden urge to go through with her plans came from. Maybe her time with Ben had done more for her than she thought. “He can’t get away with whatever he’s doing.” Mitch set down his fork and

fiddled with his wine glass. “Are you sure you want to do that? A man like William Yancey…he’s got a lot of pull with a lot of bad people. And that guy following me the other day—I don’t want them to start going after you.” “How do you know he was following you?” “I do business with men like him during the week. They’re sharks. They circle their prey until the right moment to strike. Sending goons like that is not unheard of.” Phoebe gulped at the image of Yancey as a great white but shook her head. “I don’t care. He can’t threaten me like that, can’t use my mom against me.” Mitch’s grip on the wine glass

nearly broke it, and Phoebe shot him a worried look. “He used your mom?” “Yeah. Asshole, right?” He nodded stiffly. “Well then, if that’s what you want to do, I’ll help you however I can.” “Really?” “Yes, but after tonight. I think right now you need some good old fashion hang-out time,” he said, reaching out and laying his hand gently over hers. It was warm and felt good, but nothing like when Ben touched her. There was no shock of electricity. No warming deep within her, no anticipation of what else that touch might mean. Just a touch. Soft and sweet. She squeezed his hand back

and dug into her food once more. They talked about random things mostly, and Mitch, surprisingly, had a better sense of humor than she originally thought. Before long, he had her clutching her sides with mirth as he poured the last of the wine. Finished with dinner, they made it to the couch, where Phoebe motioned for him to sit beside her. There really was no beating around the bush. If she was going to marry him soon, she might as well let him sit beside her on the couch. They stared at each other as the laughter finally died away, and Phoebe tried to see who this man really was. She saw something else in his eyes besides the gentleness he was trying to show. There was something there,

something that kept appearing and disappearing in his eyes as she looked. A side of him he didn’t want her to see yet. Or not at all. Their first date still lingered in the back of her mind as something she did not wish to repeat, ever. But what was to say that side of him wouldn’t come out again? What if it got worse? As her thoughts started to wander, he reached out a gentle hand and cupped her chin. Phoebe felt her breath catch as he leaned in but not all the way. He waited, like a gentleman, for her to lean in and accept his kiss. But when she looked at his face, she saw Ben’s crooked pirate grin as he’d swept her off

her feet and made this weekend the most magical time she’d ever spent with a man. Mitch would never even come close. The idea made her want to pull away, but her brain made her do what her heart could not. She leaned in and their lips met. His lips were soft and gentle as the kiss started to deepen. For a moment, Phoebe didn’t think she would feel anything, but there was a little spark. Definitely not the fireworks she’d had with Ben. This was something else. A feeling of desperation, of a need to be close to the man who was hopefully going to save her from the harshness of this reality. Before long, Phoebe found

herself leading Mitch back to her bedroom and kicking the door closed behind them. *** Mitch rolled out of bed quietly as Phoebe slept beside him. The night had been interesting, to say the least. He hadn’t expected to get laid, but she’d wanted him. Her sudden wanting him confused Mitch, but he didn’t argue. As much as he had told himself to keep his distance, just like he did with all his other marks, he found himself caring for this woman who was so damn innocent she couldn’t see the truth right in front of her. She reminded him of another woman he’d known a long time ago, before his job had taken him too far away from her

and what she could handle. Phoebe would react the same way if she ever found out. Not that you care, he thought to himself as he slipped his clothes back on and snuck out her bedroom door. She wouldn’t be up for a few hours, and he wanted to look for those files. If he could get his hands on them now, it would save him the trouble of trying to scare her later. He would have to make her understand that going after Yancey was a bad idea. If she kept pushing, Yancey would hire someone else to take care of Phoebe. Then he’d hear about her body being found in the river a few days later. Strangled or shot. No, he didn’t want that for her.

He started in the living room, then moved on to the kitchen, but turned up nothing. He double-checked her desk drawers, the closet, and even the bathroom, but there was no sign of the files. The last place was her bedroom. He crept back in to find her still snoring quietly. At least she slept soundly enough. Mitch started with her dresser, slowly opening her nightstand drawers, waiting for her to wake up and catch him in the act. But she heard nothing. Running out of time, he checked her closet and smiled when he found a floor safe. It was small and couldn’t hold much, but there could definitely be files in it. He pulled out his lock picks from

his wallet and went to work. It only took a few minutes before it popped open with a loud clink. He cursed and glanced behind him, but she didn’t stir. Sighing and muttering to himself, he opened the safe and glanced inside. No files. Nothing he needed. Damn. He was going to have to use scare tactics after all. *** Phoebe rolled over and stretched as her alarm went off. Morning already. She started to ask Mitch if he was going to be late for work, but when she sat up and looked around, he wasn’t there. His spot in the bed was cold. He’d just up and left her, doing the one thing she assumed Ben would have done.

She pulled the sheet up over herself and held it there tightly, cursing herself for giving in to her emotions last night. Apparently, Mitch had not been on the same page as her. Her alarm was still shrilling, and she reached over to stop it before she wound up chucking it across the room and breaking it. She got up and showered, trying not to let herself get too upset about it. Although, if this was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with, she’d hoped this morning would’ve been a bit better. As she made her way into the kitchen, ready to head into work, she noticed a note taped to her coffee pot. It had been turned on sometime that

morning. Still on and hot. “Well, just help yourself,” she snapped as she yanked the note off. But when she opened it up to read, she felt all her anger slip away. He’d been called into the office an hour ago and hadn’t wanted to wake her. So he made coffee for her and hoped that would be enough to suffice until he could do something more to make up for leaving. He even told her how much he enjoyed last night. “Good, you better have enjoyed it,” she said as her phone buzzed in her purse. She was running a few minutes behind. Why not a few more? She pulled it out to find Mitch on the other line.

“Mitch, hey, I just got your note—” “Phoebe! Are you still in your apartment?” He sounded out of breath, almost scared. “Yeah, why? What’s wrong?” “Listen, someone’s following me again. Since I left your place. I think it’s one of Yancey’s guys.” Phoebe gripped the counter, shaking her head. She’d really thought Mitch had been exaggerating when he’d said Yancey had power. “What do you mean?” “I mean, I think you’re being watched. I don’t think you should go through with your plan.” “What am I supposed to do?”

“They know where you live, Phoebe. Things just got serious. If they break in and you’re home…” He trailed off, and Phoebe felt her stomach plummet to the floor. “Phoebe, you still there?” “Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” she whispered, then coughed to clear her throat. “What do I do?” “Take the files and get rid of them,” he said. “If they break in and find nothing, they’ll leave you alone. It’s not worth it, Phoebe. Just forget you ever saw anything and go about your day as normal. Call me if you notice anyone following you.” She nodded slowly as she dropped her purse and ran into her

bedroom closet. “Ok, I’ll throw them in a dumpster.” He told her he’d keep in touch throughout the day but to make sure she got rid of the files, no matter what. Phoebe hung up and went to her closet, opened the floor safe, and reached in a hand only to find that the files weren’t there. “Ben… I showed them to Ben…” And then what? They’d wound up back in her bedroom, and the files had been left on the living room floor. Did he take the files from her? But why? She closed the safe slowly and stood as footsteps rushed past her front door. She turned off her closet light and closed the door. Mitch had said the men

had been following him since he’d left her apartment. What if some of them stayed behind? Someone pounded on her door, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her scream. They were coming for her. And she didn’t have the files. She was going to die. Phoebe opened the closet again and pressed herself as far back into it as she could. Her cell lay on the floor at her feet, but before she could reach for it, she heard her front door burst open and footsteps rushed inside. Phoebe glanced around for anything she could use as a weapon, and her hand landed on a high-heeled shoe just as the steps

rushed into her bedroom. She took a deep breath and counted to three before she charged out of the closet, shoe held as a weapon in her hand as she yelled. “What the hell—” Charlotte screamed as she dove across the bed. “Charlotte?” “Who else, you psycho? Put that damn shoe down before you hurt someone!” “Why do you keep breaking into my place!” “I didn’t, I have a key,” she snapped. “Never mind. Why didn’t you answer your phone? I called you like seven times!” “I was on the phone with someone,” Phoebe muttered as she sat

down, waiting for her heart to stop pounding. She really needed to get her key back from her friend unless she was out of town. “What’s wrong?” “Your mom,” Charlotte said in a rush. “She had a mild heart attack, but they stabilized her and she’s awake. Asking for you.” Phoebe couldn’t breathe. This was it. Everything came to this moment. She grabbed her cell from the floor and her purse from the kitchen and rushed out her door after Charlotte, heading to the hospital to see her mother.

Chapter 19 It was mid-afternoon when Riley finally set down the files he’d taken from Anna and rubbed his eyes. Things were not going according to plan. This whole marry-in-two-months was starting to eat at him. Granted, it had only been two weeks, but he still wasn’t sure what was going on. Add that to the issues with the Chandler woman and Yancey, and he found himself floundering, trying to stay above the rising tide of whatever the hell was going on. “Riley,” Linda said over the intercom, “your Aunt Bethany is on the phone for you.”

“Bethany…the ranch,” he muttered and told Linda to send the call through. He’d all but forgotten that he’d asked his aunts to check the place out and see if they could find anything left behind by his grandfather that might give him some clues. “Riley,” Bethany said when he answered. “How are you holding up, kid?” “I think I’m all right,” he said. “How’s the ranch?” “It’s beautiful, as always,” she told him. “And I wanted to let you know, we may have found something you need to see. There was a safe in your grandfather’s study. I’m sure you knew about it.”

“Yeah, he kept a few things in there.” Bethany laughed. “A few things, yes. Well, he must have added quite a few things since the last time you were here. But that’s not what’s important. What is important is that he left a list for the lawyers about what was in the safe.” “And?” “And there is a laptop currently unaccounted for.” Riley leaned over his desk, frowning. “A laptop? What the hell was on it?” “That, I’m afraid, I can’t tell you,” she said. “But I thought you should know that the last person in the house—

besides the housekeeper and your grandfather—was that Chandler woman. The redhead who looks like a cheap hooker.” Riley choked on a laugh. “Thanks, Aunt Bethany. That helps answer a few questions.” “And, I’m sure, gives you a few more.” They chatted for a few more minutes about the plans they had for the ranch and the possibility converting it into a bed and breakfast. It was something their brother had wanted to do with his sisters long ago, before his business took off. Riley wished them luck and made sure she knew to call him if they needed a handyman. He might not

be able to do anything too well, but he could find a good contractor or two. He hung up a few minutes later, then paged Ben to meet him in his office. His grandfather kept a laptop at the ranch. He knew that man almost better than anyone else. “You called,” Ben said when he knocked. “Yeah, I need you to try and track something for me.” “That sounds exciting. Just add it to the rest of the spy skills I’m suddenly acquiring.” “You want a raise?” Ben shrugged. “Wouldn’t complain. What do you need?” He told Ben about the laptop

missing from the safe and how Chandler was apparently the last person there. If anyone took it, it would’ve been her. The question was, what was on it that she wanted so badly? Ben tapped his pen on the desk as he listened. “You think your grandfather… what, kept company secrets on it?” “No,” Riley said as he paced around his office. “I think as much as the man trusted me, he had his ways of keeping track of what was going on at this company.” Ben stopped his tapping. “Like a backdoor into the network?” “Why not? He built this company. He was brilliant, so why not create his own backdoor to spy on his

grandson and make sure he doesn’t drive it all into the ground?” Riley asked with a twitch of a smile. Trust the old man to say one thing and then do another, just to make sure his grandson was still doing what was right. “We need to see if there is any trace in the system of such an intrusion.”’ “He would’ve covered his tracks pretty well, but I’ll see what I can do.” Riley started to thank him when they both heard Linda’s voice rise outside his office. He hurried to open the door, Ben right behind him, to find Diane Chandler standing there, wearing red stilettos, a short black skirt, and a red top with a plunging neckline. She

slammed her hands down onto the desk just as Linda hopped up from her chair, looking ready to hit the woman. “What are you doing here, Ms. Chandler?” Riley said calmly as he motioned for Ben to grab Linda before she hauled off and threw something at the redhead. “I do not believe we have an appointment.” “No, we do not, but as I was trying to tell your hard-of-hearing assistant,” Diane snapped, “I need to speak with you about our deal.” “What deal?” “Oh, sweetie,” she said, stepping towards him and running her fingers down his chest. “You know exactly what deal I’m talking about.”

Riley gritted his teeth and grabbed her hand, preventing it from going any lower. “I have never, nor will I ever, make a deal with you, Ms. Chandler. Now, you will please remove yourself from my presence or I will have security do it for you. Again.” “You don’t have much time left.” “I have plenty, and who says I need a whole two months?” Her eyes narrowed as she glanced around. “No, you couldn’t have found one yet.” He didn’t answer, didn’t say a word. Instead, he motioned for Linda to call security, and a few minutes later, two guards appeared on either side of her. “This is not over. I’ll be back the

second you call me to save what you hold dear.” “Good, then I’ll never have to see you again.” He waved her off as the guards each took an arm and marched her to the elevator. Riley and Ben started to head back to his office when they heard the elevator ding open and someone called out Ben’s name. Riley froze as he whipped around. “Anna?” Linda smiled even as Ben laughed, and Riley tried hard not to panic. He grabbed his friend’s arm and put a finger to his lips as Anna hurried their way. She looked a bit red in the face, as if something had upset her. “I was hoping I’d catch you.

They said you were up here somewhere, talking to your boss.” “We were, yes, just got finished with a quick meeting. Is there something wrong?” “Can we talk…somewhere else?” she whispered, leaning forward. Riley nodded and steered Anna through the rows of desks until they reached a smaller office, Ben’s real office. He motioned for her to have a seat in front of the desk, then promptly shut the door so no one would eavesdrop. He turned around to find her crying. “Anna,” he said, at her side in an instant to hold her hand as tears streamed down her face. “What’s

wrong? Is it your mother?” She nodded and wiped her eyes on her jacket sleeve. “This morning…a heart attack, but she’s awake.” She leaned on his shoulder as he wrapped her arms around her, trying to soothe her the best he could. “I just… it changes everything. I can’t…I don’t know…” “You can tell me anything, Anna. I’m right here for you.” “Can we meet tonight? But not my place, it’s not exactly safe.” He frowned, watching the fear suddenly creep into her eyes as they darted towards the door. “What do you mean? What aren’t you telling me?” She looked straight at him, and

he saw a fight going on in her eyes. Whatever was bothering her was bad, really bad. Was she trying to break up with him? There was no reason to, not after the weekend they had spent together. Whatever happened that day, he needed to know so he could stop her from ruining this thing growing between them. He wrapped her up in a tight hug and told her everything would be fine. “I’ll pick you up tonight at seven. We can crash at my place, all right?” “Are you sure?” He cupped her face gently in his hands. “Yes, Anna. Of course I am. Seven o’clock.” She nodded, and he kissed her

lips. “I guess you think I’m a bit crazy, huh?” “Never. Go home and rest, and I’ll see you tonight.” Riley escorted her back to the elevator, ignoring the eyes of everyone on the floor watching them intently. Once she was in and the doors closed, Ben and Linda started clapping and hollering his name across the floor. “Really, boss, I’m glad my office could be of use to you.” “Can it, Ben. Get on that project we talked about. Have Linda help if need be. Oh, and make sure the car is ready at six thirty. I have a date.” He ignored the rest of the mutterings behind him and closed himself in his

office. *** Phoebe wiped her face once more before she exited the elevator, hoping she didn’t look too upset. If only she could go home for the rest of the day, but she had to get back to the office. Except that woman…she’d been so upset she’d almost missed her, but it was definitely the new lady who was supposed to be working with her. “You—Ms. Baron,” a voice called across the lobby. Phoebe glanced up and groaned. She’d been right. It was Ms. Chandler hanging out here. Why? “I thought you worked for William Yancey,” she snapped before she could

stop herself. “What the hell are you doing here?” Her heels clicked loudly across the hard floor as she strode up to Phoebe and glared. “That is none of your business. I would like to know what you are doing here.” “I was seeing the guy I’m dating.” “Which guy?” “Ben, not that it’s any of your business.” She frowned and shook her head. “No, Ben is seeing that Linda woman. I saw them together at a function.” “Last time I checked, Linda was dating Frank,” Phoebe said,

confused, thinking back to the other night. “Who are you talking about?” “Riley Marston the third.” She glanced around and pulled out her cell phone, as Phoebe thought about booking it out the door. She might be able to beat her back to Yancey Securities if she caught a cab and had them hurry across town. “This man. Is this the person you’re seeing?” Phoebe was getting ready to tell the woman to leave her alone when she saw the photo on Diane’s phone. “Yeah, that’s him. Ben.” “No, that is Riley Marston the third, the CEO of this company and heir to nearly a billion dollars.” “Wait…what?”

Phoebe hadn’t heard her right. She couldn’t have. There was no way the CEO of this company would be dating her. They’d met by chance! Or, was it really by chance? She stared at the picture until Diane pulled it away. “I am only going to tell you this once. You are to stay away from Riley Marston.” Phoebe shook her head, trying to focus. “Why? You like him or something?” “You are not going to ruin my chance of getting what’s mine. You stay away from him and don’t even think about marrying him.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, her mind

whirling with possibilities. Diane glared at her long and hard, then smirked. “You really don’t know about it, do you?” “Know what?” Phoebe hadn’t meant to yell, but too much was happening for her to keep it all straight. Ben—or Riley—had taken the files from her place. Not because of any weird reason but because he was the CEO of the competing company. Why hadn’t he just told her who he really was? “He has to marry within two months or he forfeits everything he has, including this company.” “I don’t understand…” But then she remembered the mysterious Bruce Wayne on the website. “Has to

marry in two months…that’s why.” “What are you muttering about?” “Nothing, just…I have to get back to work.” Phoebe tried to push past her, but Diane reached out and grabbed her arm in a tight grip. “You are to say nothing about this to anyone. Understand? If you do, I’ll be sure that Yancey fires you on the spot, and you and your poor, sick mother will be screwed.” She squeezed hard enough to make Phoebe wince, leered at her, and stomped off, her heels striking the floor harder than they had before. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and disappeared through the front doors.

For a long minute, Phoebe just stood there, her arm throbbing from the woman’s touch. Riley Marston. She was dating not a pirate, but freaking Bruce Wayne. And he hadn’t even told her. There had to be a good reason. Maybe the two-month-marriage thing? Whatever the reason, Phoebe felt herself growing angrier by the second. She’d trusted this man with so much of herself, and he had lied to her. Flat-out lied. What was to say it wasn’t a setup to get information from Yancey? She couldn’t help him bring down her own company! Furious at herself, she stormed out of the lobby and hailed a cab. The whole way back to her office, all she could see was his face and the truth of just how many lies those

blue eyes had been hiding. *** Ben made his way back upstairs, staring at the papers in his hands and trying to understand what he just saw in the lobby. Things were not adding up all of a sudden with this Anna woman, who may or may not be who she claimed to be. The file in his hands told a completely different story of a woman who looked a lot like her. It was going to kill Riley if it turned out to be right. Ben wanted to hide it all, but he couldn’t do that. Whatever was going on with Yancey and Chandler involved this woman too. That, and Mitch Harper, of all people, had been her date at that damn

function. Everyone knew that Mitch was the major problem solver for anyone with deep enough pockets. She had to know who he was, which meant the night Riley had run into her had to have been a setup. The whole thing was a lie. A damned lie. Ben thought it had been bad enough when Meredith died. But this? This wasn’t someone dying. It was a betrayal. “Ben? What’s wrong?” Linda came up to him and glanced at the file in his hand. “Is that on Anna?” “Yeah, and it’s not good. Just saw her and Diane having a pow-wow in the lobby downstairs.”

“About what?” “Don’t know, couldn’t hear anything except them say Riley’s name.” Linda shook her head. “But Anna thinks his name is Ben.” “Exactly. Where’s the big man at?” “He’s having a drink to calm himself down. Diane really got to him this time,” she said as they headed towards Riley’s office. She started to sit back down behind her desk until Ben asked if she’d go in with him. “Is it that bad?” “Let’s just say, with you present, he might not decide to throw something at my head.” Linda nodded and together,

they walked back into Riley’s office. He was staring out the window, drink in hand, when they told him he might want to sit down. But he didn’t turn around. Just sipped on his whiskey again and told them to say whatever it was they had to say. “Not like this day could get any more interesting.” “Actually, I think it just got a whole hell of a lot worse,” Ben said. He set the open file down on Riley’s desk as his friend turned back around. “Anna is not who you think she is.”

Chapter 20 A little before seven, Phoebe paced around her apartment, trying to control her emotions. She’d been by the hospital again, unable to even set foot in her office. She’d received quite a few calls from Yancey and ignored them all. She didn’t have time to deal with him. She needed to understand what was happening, who this man was who had appeared in her life so suddenly. And then lied to her about who he really was. Not that she had been completely honest with him either, but it had barely been a week! They’d had only officially had one date, which then

turned into a weekend that she would never forget. But finding out who he really was… Riley Marston was the richest man in the city, one of the top five in the country last time she checked. How could she possibly compete with something like that? Mitch was loaded, but not like that. She’d never been put in the spotlight or had to deal with people like that in her life before. “You should just stop now,” she muttered out loud as she stared at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. “If he lied to you, then he clearly isn’t going to choose to stay with you.” It was the only thing that made sense. That’s why he wouldn’t just come forward about his true identity. And

worse, she’d handed over files from Yancey’s company. Everything about Phoebe’s life was now riding on the line. One wrong move, and she’d lose everything she’d worked so hard to get. That, and any chance she had at saving her mom. Phoebe sighed and felt tears prick her eyes as she pictured her mom lying in that damn hospital bed, awake but unable to speak. Unable to walk out on her own. She recognized Phoebe, but it only lasted a few minutes before her memory went blank again, and Phoebe felt the last ties to the woman she’d known vanishing. It had taken everything she had to not lose it—throw things, scream, yell at how unfair the world had

been. That all she was trying to do was save her mom. Was that too much to ask? To give her a fighting chance at being able to live a little longer? Maybe see Phoebe get married to a man she truly loved, have some kids, and finally be at the point in her life when she wasn’t worried about whether she would have a job tomorrow? Or if some crazy guy would come after her because she stuck her nose where it didn’t belong? What happened to the days of being normal? “You lost them,” she said. “You lost them and you’re never getting them back.” She wiped the tears angrily from her cheeks. Tonight was about getting answers and putting an end to her

relationship with Ben…Riley. She had to remember his real name was Riley. And tonight, he was going to learn what it meant to lie to a woman like her. Her cell buzzed, and she glanced down to see a text from “Ben.” There was a car waiting for her out front. He was already waiting at his place, something at work ran late, so he was going to meet her there. “You have your own damn car?” She shoved her cell back in her purse and stormed out of her apartment. “Of course you do. You have everything, you rich bastard. Just like all the rest of them.” But he hadn’t acted like a rich

bastard. He’d been nothing but sweet and gentle to her the whole weekend. Making her laugh, making her forget about what waited outside her apartment door. Made her feel like she mattered to someone else, really mattered. She stepped out onto the sidewalk and saw a black town car with a gentleman dressed in a suit waiting to open the passenger door. “Good evening, Anna,” he said with a smile as he pulled it open and waved her in. She smiled back, acting as if nothing was wrong, and slid inside. The seats were leather, and she tried not to feel too impressed as the driver hurried around to his seat and pulled away from the curb.

Phoebe stared out the window and watched as they headed out of the familiar streets she lived on and into the rich part of the city. “He lives over here?” “Yes ma’am, owns a penthouse.” “Figures,” she muttered. “I’m sorry?” “Oh, nothing, sorry. Just…I wasn’t expecting such style from him, you know?” The driver smiled in the rearview mirror. “He treats all his guests with the utmost respect, as I’m sure you will see when we reach his home. Just a few more minutes.” And, as he said, a few minutes

later, they pulled up alongside the curb of one of the most expensive luxury loft and apartment buildings anywhere in the city. Phoebe stepped out of the car and craned her neck to stare up at the tall glass and steel building. “If you go straight through those doors and to the elevator, hit the button for the top floor. It will take you to his front door. Good evening, miss.” He held the door open for her, and the second she passed through, headed back to his car and drove away. “Guess there’s no chance of running away now.” Phoebe straightened, gripped her purse tightly, then stalked towards the elevator and waited impatiently for it

to descend the twelve stories to reach the lobby. A guard at the front desk watched her and smiled when she glanced his way. She returned the smile, though all it did was make her feel even worse than she already did. When the elevator arrived, she stepped inside, hit twelve, then waited. The ride up was slow, and by the time the doors dinged open again, she thought she’d lost her nerve. Until she remembered how great last weekend had been and just how much she was going to miss it because of this man. When she stepped out of the elevator, Phoebe put on the best smile she had, strode straight up to the front

door, and knocked gently a few times. She heard music coming from the other side of the door and the clinking of glasses. There was the sound of heavy footsteps right before the door unlocked, and he pulled it open. “Anna, glad you made it,” Ben said tightly. Riley. His name is Riley Marston and he’s a liar, she reminded herself as she stepped past him. “Yes, thanks to the car you sent. I didn’t know you could do that.” He closed and locked the door as she carelessly tossed her purse and jacket on a nearby chair. “Perks of being close to the boss.” “Ah, I see. You’re friends with

him,” she said as she twirled around and took in his place. “This is incredible, Ben, really. Look at those ceilings!” Phoebe’s smile was genuine as she took in this place—his place, the home of her pirate. It suited him well. There was metalwork on the walls, bits and pieces with candle holders or picture frames. She’d always thought art like that would make a place look cold, but not here. Here, it looked exquisite. There was even a set of double swords over the fireplace on the far wall. She laughed as she hurried over to look at them. “Cutlasses?” He followed her over with a nod and drink in hand. “Yeah, souvenir from a trip with my grandfather. Where

we both got the piercings done, too.” She took the martini from him and sipped it. “That’s pretty good.” “For a pirate, you mean?” he asked with a raised brow, his lips twitching in a smile, but as Phoebe stared at him, she saw something else lurking in his eyes. A darkness she hadn’t noticed before. “Dinner won’t be ready for a while yet. Make yourself at home.” He stepped away and motioned for her to find a seat on the couch, which was leather that felt like butter to the touch. She expected him to sit next to her as they’d done at her place, but he remained standing, and she felt a wave of cold hit her in the face. He was up to

something or he knew something, just like she did. It had to be about the files, but if anyone had a right to be angry at that, it was her. She’d shown them to him in complete confidence and he’d up and taken them. Her only proof of what Yancey was up to. Phoebe leaned back into the couch and sipped her martini a few more times. “Nice place. Did you inherit it somehow?” The liquor burned down her throat and settled warm in her stomach. Usually, she wasn’t a gin drinker, but tonight, it bolstered her nerve. Riley glanced around and shrugged. “Thought I needed a place of my own, so no.”

“You had the money to buy this?” “You’d be surprised what I have,” he said, then sipped his martini, blue eyes all of a sudden steel, watching her. “Just like I was a bit surprised to find out what you had.” The bitter tone of his words made Phoebe flinch. The heat she’d felt towards him all weekend, the fire that had warmed her in his presence, was slowly being snuffed out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But if I did, I would say that maybe—whatever you found out I had—I should not have been so nice as to show you,” she said as her voice grew louder. “Maybe I should have ignored you that night at the

restaurant and never tried to escape my date with you.” He laughed and set down his drink. “Yes, that horrible date with that horrible man that you wound up with at a function the next week! Come on, Phoebe, you’re not fooling anyone.” The second her name left his mouth, he frowned and cursed, turning away from her. “Don’t you dare walk away from me! How did you find out my real name?” she yelled as she followed him. “I never said anything about it, so how?” “You don’t cover your tracks as well as you think.” “Oh, and you do? Why the hell didn’t you tell me your real name? Riley

Marston! Richest damn man in the city, and you lied to me! What, were you embarrassed to be seen with someone of my standing? Am I not good enough for the likes of you?” She shot back the rest of her martini and wiped her mouth on her hand. “You CEOs are all the same. Cold, hiding behind your damn money.” He shook his head as he went into the kitchen and grabbed an oven mitt. “What the hell are you doing?” “I will not,” he said, pointing a bright green mitted hand at her, “let my dinner burn just because of you and your…your ignorance!” He yanked the oven door open, leaving Phoebe trying to catch her breath and tapping her

fingers on the countertop. “That is ungodly annoying by the way.” “I don’t care! You stole those files from my place! You lied to me!” Riley slammed the oven closed, cutting off whatever delicious smells were emanating from it, and turned it off. “Like you didn’t know who I was at the restaurant! Stop lying, Phoebe, I know everything.” “Know what? I didn’t know who you were ‘til today.” “Don’t give me that shit.” He stalked towards her, but she refused to move. He reached around her with another muttered curse and grabbed a file, a different one from the ones she’d shown him. “No? Are you sure about

that, Phoebe Baron of Yancey Securities? You’re more than just the archives girl, aren’t you?” He slammed the file down on the counter and Phoebe hurriedly flipped it open. She stared down at a picture of herself, the same one that matched her ID badge for work. “How did you get this file? This is confidential! You don’t even work for Yancey.” “I know people. Just like you know people—all the wrong damn people.” Phoebe shook her head frantically as she tried to wrap her head around what was going on. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” “The game is up, Phoebe. I’ll

admit you put on a good act, but I’m not blind any more. I have my sources,” he snapped, “and they have never lied to me. They saw you with Diane Chandler, you work for my enemy, of all people, and you’re dating Mitch Harper!” He held up his fingers when he said dating. “I should’ve known something was up when you showed up with him at the function, then left him to sit with me.” “I didn’t sit with you. I was with Linda, or whatever her name is.” “I don’t care. You have done everything you can to get close to me. That weekend? Everything you told me? How much of it is actually true?” The harshness of his words took all the anger out of Phoebe, and she

felt tears start to stream down her face. He cursed and stepped away, laughing at her or his stupidity, she wasn’t sure which. Her hands shook as she picked up the file. He thought she had lied to him about everything. About her mom, about Mitch. Why was Mitch even such a big deal? Unless he’d figured out her profile on that damn website, too. But either way, that did not give him the right. “You still stole my files,” she whispered, holding on to the last little bit of argument she had. “No, those were my files that you stole, and for all I know, you have the damn laptop too. You forgot to mention that you interned at my company

two years ago,” he said, jabbing a finger at the file. “Seems odd, especially when I told you who I worked for.” Phoebe frowned. “Internship? What are you…” But then she remembered. It had been her first big offer, but her mom had gotten sick and her parents moved in with her. Things had gone downhill. She’d barely been there for two weeks when she had to quit. “You son of a bitch. You think I stole files from you two years ago? Why would I show them to you?” “I don’t know. I don’t know why you did half of the things you did. Playing on my losses to get close to me,” he said, glaring at her. “Why did you do it, Phoebe? Part of Yancey’s grand

plan?” “Why don’t you ask him yourself if you know everything, Riley Marston,” she said snapping the file shut. “Since you know everything else, I expect you to have the answers to those questions too!” She hurried over to her purse and jacket, then marched to the front door. “Where the hell are you going?” She barked a laugh as she turned to stare him down, tears in her eyes and her heart shattering into pieces. “I thought you were different. For once in my life, I trusted my instincts, and look where it got me. Dealing with just another jackass.”

As he headed towards her, he shook his head and crossed his arms across his chest. Arms that had so recently held her close. “You lied to me first, Phoebe. You got yourself into this mess.” She felt her chest tighten, and the last bit of her heart broke. “Goodbye, Riley. Go screw yourself.” Phoebe yanked open the door, skipped the elevator, and ducked into the stairwell as he yelled after her. She nearly fell down the twelve flights as tears blurred her vision. She should’ve known it was too good to be true. Here she was, standing on the curb as thunder boomed overhead and rain started to patter down around her. No one to give her a jacket

this time. No one to keep her safe and out of the rain. Something buzzed in her purse, and she pulled her jacket up over her head before she pulled out her cell. Rain poured down around her, making it hard to hear. “Hello?” “Phoebe, it’s Mitch.” “Mitch.” She sighed, then felt the tears coming again. Before she could stop herself, she started to cry even harder. “Mitch…I…oh, man.” “Phoebe, where are you? What’s wrong?” “I’m on Fifth and Logan.” “What are you doing all the way up there?” “It’s a long story,” she

whispered. “If you pick me up, promise you won’t ask questions.” There was a long silence, and for a second, Phoebe thought he’d hung up. She heard the sound of keys jingling, then, “Get out of the rain. I’ll call you when I’m close.” “Thank you, Mitch. I…just… thank you.” “Now, Phoebe, I won’t ask what you’re doing up there, but you’re going to have to give me some answers. Like what the hell is going on.” She nodded as she glanced around the street. “I will, promise.” They both hung up, and she wondered what she should tell Mitch. The truth or more lies.

*** Phoebe had run out just as the storm hit, and it took everything Riley had not to chase after her and bring her back inside where it was dry. He hadn’t meant to attack her like that, but he’d just been so angry, listening to her blatantly lying to his face, trying to act like she didn’t know what he was talking about. As if she could keep lying to him and not get caught. “What a joke,” he muttered as he poured a large glass of whiskey and plopped down on his couch, watching the lightning streak across the sky. “I hope you get drenched.” It was pathetic, really, but he was so torn apart he didn’t know which way was up. When Ben had

shown him the file on her, he’d thought it was a joke. But it wasn’t. The woman he’d found a real connection with, who might be able to get him out of this inheritance mess, had been a fraud the whole time, possibly trying to bring down his company to help Yancey. A knock sounded at his door, and Riley yelled at whoever it was to go away. A few seconds later, he heard a key turn in the lock. “I just saw your girl getting picked up by Mitch Harper,” Ben said. Riley sank deeper into the couch as he shot back the rest of the whiskey. Salt in the wound. Fine, that was just fine. If she was going to run from him and straight to Mitch…maybe

they were actually dating, after all, and he’d just been part of their plans. “Riley? You ok?” “Need another drink,” he said and pushed himself up, walking right past Ben without saying another word. He grabbed the bottle, poured a glass full and was about to set it down when he decided it’d just be easier to take the bottle with him. “So, you’re that good,” Ben said, sitting in the chair opposite. “Did you show her the file?” “Yep, and she denied all of it —well, besides her name. But that would be stupid.” He laughed, already a bit drunk. He shot back another glass of whiskey, then poured a third, shot it

back, and poured a fourth. That one, he stared at for a long time, the amber liquid shifting in his glass as thunder rumbled around them and the lights flickered. “Hell of a storm out there,” Ben said lightly. “Yeah, hell of a storm.” Riley stared harder at the whiskey and saw a glimpse of Phoebe’s green eyes, so full of pain as he’d yelled at her. Regret maybe? And guilt, just a glimmer of it, but he’d seen it. He hadn’t wanted to yell. He was going to just ask her, flat out, why she lied, but he’d let his emotions get the better of him, and instead, he’d treated her no better than if Yancey had been standing in front of

him. “Riley? Maybe you’ve had enough to drink,” his friend said as he reached for the bottle. But Riley gripped it tighter. “Either get a damn glass and drink with me or get the hell out.” “I really don’t think it’s a good idea. You have that meeting tomorrow.” “Ben, as my friend, I’m telling you to either drink or get out. I don’t care about tomorrow. Not anymore.” He heard his friend get up and make a call in the kitchen, probably to Linda. A sharp pang ran through his chest. He’d once had what Ben and Linda had with Meredith. And for a few brief days, he’d thought he’d found a spark of that feeling

again with Phoebe. Just to have it all blow up in his face. He’d desperately wanted that again, to be needed, to be wanted by someone, and not because he was rich. Phoebe had done that. Or at least acted the part. But then she’d run off with Mitch Harper, hitman for the rich CEOs of the city. He shot back the whiskey again and started to pour another glass when Ben set his down on the table. “Linda says if you’re hungover tomorrow, she’s not covering your sorry ass.” “I think I’m allowed a bit of leniency here.” “She’s under the impression

that you yelled at the poor girl.” Riley didn’t reply. He figured Linda would understand why he was in such a rotten mood. He was a nice guy, rarely lost his temper, yet here he was, drowning his sorrows in a bottle of whiskey because of how he’d acted. His grandfather would’ve smacked him upside the head if he was alive. Riley rubbed the side of his head, as if he could feel that smack already. “She yelled back,” he said weakly. “Really? That’s your reply? Damn Riley, what—are you ten?” “She stole from me, Ben, lied about who she was.” “Yeah, well, maybe she had

good reason.” Riley stared at him through drunken, narrowed eyes. “What are you doing? Defending her?” “I’m just saying, even though we found out all that stuff about her, the few times we met, I never got that evil corporate spy vibe.” “So she’s a damn good actress.” “Or parts of her story were true,” Ben started to say, but Riley threw a pillow from the couch at him. “Fine, believe what you want. Just pass the damn bottle. I won’t let you be hungover by yourself tomorrow. That’d just be an embarrassment.” Too bad that was what Riley

was going to be facing in the days to come. With Phoebe out of the picture, he was back to square one on the marriage issue and his time was running out. A month and two weeks left. He guessed he’d be back on that damn website tomorrow, trying to find a woman who didn’t laugh like a damned hyena or try to maul him to death. He slid a glance at Ben. Maybe a fake gay marriage would count? But nah, Ben would never go for that, and he was pretty sure Linda would kill him if he even mentioned the idea. Sometime around midnight, Ben passed out, snoring in the chair, empty glass hanging from his hand. Riley was right behind him. He thought the liquor would’ve quelled his dreams.

Instead, all he saw were Phoebe’s green eyes filled with heartbreak as she’d run out of his place and into the driving rain, getting into the car with a man who had red eyes and horns. An alarm shrieked somewhere in the penthouse, and Riley rolled off the couch, smacking his head on the floor, his arm catching on the coffee table. “Shit…Ben… Ben, wake up, damn it!” “Huh? Wha…what time is it?” “We’re late, that’s what time it is.” He groaned as he got up, holding his head. It was almost nine o’clock. The meeting with his client was at nine thirty. He really hoped Linda had been kidding about not covering his ass today because

he was going to need a miracle to save this new business deal. Otherwise, he’d watch them walk out the door and straight into Yancey’s pocket.

Chapter 21 Phoebe made it through the rest of the week on autopilot. She barely talked to Charlotte about what happened, unable to even mention that her pirate had actually been Riley Marston. Her friend had found out, of course, and been upset Phoebe had let him go…until she’d finally broken down one night and told her everything that happened. “He did what?” she’d screamed, grabbing her car keys. “Charlotte, where are you going?” “I’m going to kick his ass, that’s what! No one does this to my friend.”

“Really, I’m fine. It’s probably for the best anyway.” It had taken a while, but she’d managed to calm Charlotte down enough to stop her from getting arrested for assaulting Riley. For a few days, she didn’t hear from Mitch and honestly didn’t expect to until one day, there was a voicemail on her cell, asking her to meet him in the park. The sun was shining on Thursday when Phoebe headed there, between all the skyscrapers and screeching car horns. Flowers were in full bloom and buds were bursting to life on the ash and cherry trees. The sweet scent made her smile, as did the warm sun shining down on her face. She really should try to get out of the office more.

She found a bench in the center of the park and sat down to wait. There were many people out walking—old men with canes, runners, teens walking in clusters, and a few couples here and there, holding hands and exchanging quiet kisses and laughter. Phoebe reached a hand up to her chest and forced herself to breathe. She would get over it, she had to. There was no option to stand still and hope for the best. If she was ever to take back control of her life, it was now. She leaned back and closed her eyes, soaking up the warmth of the sun and letting it fill her with hope that things would get better. Phoebe felt herself relaxing and started to doze off when someone said her name.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Mitch said as he grinned and sat down beside her. “That’s all right. Haven’t been sleeping well.” “Understandable.” “Listen, Mitch, you don’t have to do this, you know. I haven’t even told you what happened last week and there’s so much going on… I…I won’t blame you for walking away.” He smiled gently and reached out to take her hand. “Why would I do that?” “I…well, why wouldn’t you?” “Phoebe, it’s not like we were exclusive,” he told her. “Whatever happened or didn’t happen, it’s none of

my business. All I care about right now is you. I don’t like seeing you hurt.” She swallowed hard and felt her sinking heart start to flutter just a bit. “You don’t?” “No. Now, from how I see it, you are still in need of money to help with your mom’s surgery, and I find myself growing extremely fond of you. So, Phoebe Baron, would you do me the honor of being my official girlfriend?” His question made her gasp, and she couldn’t breathe. No, he hadn’t proposed, but the way he said it, so sincere and full of caring, Phoebe was at a loss for words. All she could do was nod, and when he leaned in to kiss her, she embraced him. There was a spark,

but no fireworks. Nothing compared to what she still dreamed about with Riley. Let it go, girl. You can’t have everything, she told herself as Mitch stood and offered her his arm. Take what you can get for now. You never know. You could learn to love the guy. They made their way back to the office. Sadly, she had to return to her job where Diane Chandler was still watching over her, but not as intently as before. After what happened with the files, Phoebe had backed off, kept her head down, and gone about her day as usual. The last thing she wanted was any more attention. She’d already heard a few people at the office talking about how they’d seen her with Riley Marston.

Those were questions she did not want to answer any time soon. They reached her office, and she sighed. “Well, I guess I’ll talk to you later then.” Mitch took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I’ll cook you dinner. Tomorrow night? Pick you up around six?” Phoebe smiled. “Sounds like a date to me.” *** Mitch watched Phoebe sit down at her desk before the door closed, and he headed back to the elevator, the smile dropping from his face. Phoebe might be out of the game, but he wasn’t. Yancey was still paying him to run

interference, and the money that should have been transferred was not in his account. He did not work for people who did not pay. He reached the top floor and stalked across to Yancey’s office, ignoring everyone else who stopped to stare at him. He didn’t even stop when Yancey’s assistant called out to him but headed straight inside. “Well then,” he said when he opened the door to find Diane and Yancey going at it on the desk. “Is this a bad time?” Diane cursed and ducked down, hiding herself as Yancey yanked his pants up. “What the hell are you doing here? You don’t just barge into my office!”

“You didn’t pay me,” Mitch said, leaning against the closed door. “Of course I did. It went in this morning.” “No, actually, it didn’t. Don’t try to play games with me, William… you will lose. Where is my money?” “Can’t you come back later?” Diane shrieked as she struggled to pull her top back on. “No. I rather like it when my clients are off balance. Money, William. Now.” He grunted as he finally got his pants re-situated and walked across the room to a small safe tucked away under the drinks cart. “This is not how gentlemen do business.”

“Never said I was a gentleman.” “Why are you still paying him, anyway?” Diane snapped. “I thought that Baron woman was out of the picture. You said she no longer had the files, and I haven’t seen her snooping around at all.” “Do you want her to go after Riley again?” Mitch said, as much as it pained him. He knew how attracted she’d been to the guy. Part of him was cold to such emotions, but he wasn’t a complete monster. Phoebe had really liked Riley, and he’d broken her heart. “By all means, I can disappear, and when she’s no longer distracted by me or Riley realizes I’m out of the picture…

you tell me what you think might happen.” Diane huffed, her face red— whether from anger or her latest exertions, Mitch wasn’t sure. “It was just a fleeting thing. They didn’t have anything real.” “If you’re willing to take that risk then by all means, I’ll leave right now.” He turned towards the door and was about to pull it open when Diane cursed. “Wait, just wait a Goddamned minute.” She ran a hand through her messed up hair as Mitch waited patiently, watching her make up her mind. It didn’t take long before she

turned back to Yancey and yelled at him to give Mitch the cash before they lost their distraction. “You made the right choice,” Mitch said, as he tucked the envelope in his jacket pocket. “I expect to be kept apprised of the situation,” Yancey said. “Until this can be taken care of.” “You mean until Riley is dumb enough to marry that witch.” “Why you—” Mitch caught the hand she tried to slap him with. “Don’t ever try to touch me again.” Yancey didn’t even move as Diane’s gaze flashed from Mitch’s face to his, waiting for him to intervene. The

coward of a man did nothing but stand there, hands shaking. Mitch smirked and dropped her hand as he reached for the door. “I’ll be in touch, and next time, I expect my money on time, Yancey, or you’ll regret it.” Mitch headed out the door and Diane turned around, glaring at Yancey. “You just stood there! What the hell is your problem?” “Maybe you shouldn’t try to hit hired guns in the face,” he replied. “He deserved it.” “Mitch Harper deserves a lot of things, but you will not be the one to deliver them,” he said. “Once this business of taking over Cyber Vault, Inc. is over, we’ll tie up loose ends. Mitch

will be one of them, don’t worry about that. I want my damn money back.” Diane rolled her eyes as she poured herself a shot of vodka and tossed it back. “Of course you do.” “Why do you look worried? You said it yourself, Riley will get desperate. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep his company.” “I know…it’s just that woman —” “If you’re that worried about it, go and take care of it. She’s downstairs, working.” “You want me to fire her?” Yancey shook his head. “But what else are you good at doing?” Diane leered as she grabbed

her purse from the floor, slipped her heels back on, then leaned down to kiss Yancey passionately, making sure her cleavage was visible as his hands wrapped around her rear and squeezed. “When this is all over, remind me to do something special for you.” “When this is all over, you’ll be the grieving widow and I will be the one to swoop in and save you.” He laughed. “Now, I have to make some calls. Go do what you have to.” *** It was almost time to leave for the day. Phoebe glanced at the door, praying Diane didn’t show up. So close, just a few more minutes…then the door slammed open and she sighed, slouching

in her chair as she continued to type. “Ah, Ms. Baron, still hard at work as always,” she said cheerfully as she click-clacked into the room. “Not off ‘til five, last time I checked,” Phoebe said quietly, not bothering to look up. “Of course, of course. Listen, I just wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings.” Phoebe saved the document she was working on and started to shut down her workstation. “About what exactly? You threatening me?” “You have to understand, I thought what you had with Riley was serious.” She laughed as she waved her hand, as if waving away what Phoebe

had shared with Riley. Phoebe stiffened, feeling her heart twist, but didn’t say anything. “All water under the bridge, yes?” She pushed her chair back and grabbed her purse and jacket. “Yep, he’s all yours. I’m sure you two will be a perfect fit for each other.” She headed for the door, keeping her eyes averted so her pain wouldn’t show when shiny red heels appeared in front of her. “Move, please. I would like to get home sometime today.” Diane tapped her toe until Phoebe rolled her eyes and finally met the other woman’s gaze. “You could never have been with him. He is way out of your league,

you understand me? He never would’ve stayed with you. Besides, he’s already with me. We spent the weekend together.” Phoebe’s hand gripped her purse hard enough to hurt. “Yes, it was a wonderful weekend. He told me all about you, his little virgin girl. Ah, it was a great laugh.” Cheeks burning, Phoebe shoved past Diane, but the woman blocked her path again. She opened her mouth to yell when something caught her eye. Diane had walked in with her purse and a bag, a laptop bag. Sticking out of it was a sleek black machine. Phoebe recognized it as a top model, expensive, and only

for those who had real computer skills. So why the hell did Diane Chandler have it? Hadn’t Riley said something about a laptop? “What are you staring at?” Diane snapped. Phoebe glanced away from the bag and narrowed her eyes. “Nothing. Now get out of my way or my real boyfriend will come in here and deal with you.” “Oh? And who is that?” “Mitch Harper.” Phoebe’s lips curled into a smile when she saw the slight shadow of fear appear in Diane’s eyes. So Mitch was a big deal in this world. Phoebe had a feeling it had nothing to do with the job he said he did.

“I’m leaving. I’ll see you in the morning.” Diane didn’t say another word, and Phoebe wondered who the hell she was dating now.

Chapter 22 A couple weeks passed, and Riley felt the wedding deadline looming ever nearer. He was no closer to figuring out what to do than he was to stopping Yancey from getting his hands on more files. So far, he’d lost two clients and was close to losing the military contract if they didn’t figure out who was behind the file hacking soon. He spun slowly around in his chair, mind reeling as he tried to think of who could possibly be behind it, even as a voice nagged him loudly that maybe Phoebe Baron had nothing to do with any of this. It had all been someone else. But who? It had to be someone close to

him, who knew him. There was no way it was Ben. Never in a million years would he see his friend turn on him. But who else was there? His eyes landed on the stack of papers on his desk, files that needed sorting, calls that needed to be made. But as he reached for his cell, the first name that came up was Anna. Well, Phoebe’s number really, but he’d never taken her out of his contacts. His thumb hovered over the delete button. He should just get rid of it. No point trying to talk to her again. No matter what, she had lied to him, and as far as he knew, was connected to all of this somehow. Was involved with Mitch Harper. The rumors had spread from

the CEO circle and the local gatherings that Mitch Harper was dating someone. A beautiful woman with green eyes. Riley knew exactly who it was and still couldn’t believe it. He glanced at the door to make sure he was still alone, then changed Annie’s name to Phoebe before tucking his cell away and pressing the intercom button. “Linda. Linda, are you at your desk?” He waited a few seconds, then called for her again. She usually told him if she had to step away for something. He got up and opened his office door to find her desk empty. “Anyone seen Linda?” he asked the room at large.

“Saw her head towards the stairs a while ago,” Bill said from his cubicle right across the aisle. “Hmm, thanks.” He went behind her desk and sat down, looking for some paper to leave her a note. He bumped her mouse and her screen popped back up. The picture she had as her desktop made him laugh. New Year’s Eve, Ben and she kissing as champagne exploded around them. It was a great night… Riley’s eyes narrowed. “Locked file? What is that?” She never had locked files on her desktop. There was no need. She rarely, if ever, handled sensitive files for Riley. So why was it locked? He looked up, but she was nowhere in sight yet, so

he clicked on it. A window asking for credentials popped up and he entered his own. They were denied. “What? Seriously?” He was about to try again when he heard a door open and someone said hello to Linda. He quickly exited out of the box and scrounged around for paper and pen. He was just finishing his note when she appeared at her desk. “Riley? What are you doing,” she asked, sounding a bit more snappish than usual. “Sorry, wanted to leave you a note. Not a problem, is it?” “What—no,” she said as he caught her eyes darting to her desktop. “You could’ve just e-mailed me like

usual.” “Well, I wanted to make sure you saw this one when you got back.” He finished the note and set it on her desk. “There, all done. Is everything okay?” he asked as he stood and pointed towards the cell in her hand. “Uh? Oh, yeah, just…family. You know how that drama goes.” “Not really, but I’ll take your word for it.” He headed back to his office. When he reached the doorway, he looked back and watched her read the note, then immediately get on the computer and start opening files. Her monitor was angled just enough that he could see her checking that locked file. “What are you up to?” He muttered the

question, suspicion gnawing uncomfortably in his gut. Ben was out of the office at a client meeting. He’d have to talk to his friend the second he got back about what his girlfriend had been up to as of late. Riley didn’t want to think Linda would be involved. She started the same time Ben did. Maybe the whole situation was just making him paranoid. Yeah, that was it. He would forget about what he saw. For all he knew, Linda just wanted to make sure the files on her computer were secure in case someone like Diane came poking around again. Riley closed his office door and went back to spinning in circles, closing his eyes, and seeing nothing but

green ones staring back at him. *** It was nearly time to leave when Ben made an appearance in Riley’s office. His face was drawn and his hands shook as he sat down in front of his friend’s desk. “I have some news for you.” “Are you okay?” Ben shrugged. “Linda and I have been fighting lately. She’s acting weird.” Riley thought about the locked file he’d seen on her desktop. “Like secretive weird?” “Yeah, why? Did she say something to you?” “No, but I saw something on

her computer. She wasn’t too happy to find me sitting at her desk.” “What was the file?” “No idea. It was locked,” Riley said, leaning back in his chair. “Things just aren’t adding up.” Ben waved the files in his hands at Riley before he tossed them on his desk. “Speaking of which, some things didn’t add up about Phoebe, so I did some digging.” Riley flinched to hear her name. “What…why?” “Because since your fight with her, you’ve barely slept, you drink every night, and you’re not getting anything done. You miss her,” Ben said. “I wanted to see what was really going on.

Maybe there was a reason for what she did.” “And? What did you find?” Riley asked, trying not to sound bitter. “Her mom is actually in the hospital, most likely dying,” he said. “And you yelled at her that she was lying.” “I thought…no, is she?” Riley ripped open the file and glanced at the medical paperwork. “How did you even get your hands on these?” “That’s not the point, and you know it.” Riley ignored him and flipped over a few more pages. Her mom was in a serious state, needing brain surgery right away on a tumor. She didn’t have

much time left, it seemed, and he’d thrown it back in her face that she lied about it. Riley suddenly felt sick, and that feeling only grew when he flipped over the next page. “Wait, this is an online profile for Anna.” “Check out the website.” Riley stared at the bottom of the page. “This is the dating website you put me on. Why is she on this?” “I think you know why.”’ “No, she found me on purpose, to steal my files for Yancey.” “Dude, seriously? You’re starting to get on my nerves,” Ben snapped. “Look at that profile, look at the records behind it. She is broke, flat out broke. Her mom needs surgery if she

has a hope to live. You’re on that website so you can find a wife, and she obviously needs money.” Could it really be that simple? But why not just tell him the truth…he closed the file as he realized it was probably for the same reasons he didn’t tell her who he really was. Riley shoved the files aside and rubbed his forehead. “Doesn’t matter.” “Doesn’t matter. You really still think she’s behind this?” “All I know is that she works for Yancey’s company and is associated with Diane Chandler. I can’t trust her, Ben. I don’t understand why you can’t see that.” “And I don’t understand why

you can’t see what’s right in front of you! You only spent three days with this woman, yet she did something for you that I haven’t seen since Meredith was alive,” Ben yelled. “Don’t talk about Meredith.” “She’s dead, Riley,” Ben said, lowering his voice sadly. “She’s dead, and we all miss her, but shoving Phoebe aside because of something that’s out of her control…it’s not fair to either of you. Especially when I can see that look in your eyes.” Riley stood and paced to the window, turning his back on his friend. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ben sighed, and Riley heard

his office door open. “Yes, you do, but whatever, man. If you get drunk tonight, you’re doing it on your own. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He slammed the door behind him, and Riley was left alone, feeling the walls closing in on him. He could feel the file on Phoebe staring at his back, daring him to make the call he so desperately wanted to. But no matter what the reasons were, Phoebe had made her choice. She was with Mitch. If she really felt the same way for him as he did for her, she would be there, trying to see him, talk to him. Make him understand. Why the hell would she do that after you yelled at her? his conscience chided. You pushed her

away. You did. Riley grunted in annoyance and stalked away from the window and the guilty look growing in his eyes. He packed up his things and headed out of the office. Linda was already gone for the day. He thought about trying to hack into that file again but couldn’t accept the idea that she would be connected to any of this. He paused by her desk, debating what to do, then forced himself to keep on walking. There would be time to ask her about it tomorrow.

Chapter 23 Phoebe rolled over and smiled when she felt Mitch by her side. A few weeks had passed since her encounter with Diane, and since she’d mentioned Mitch’s name, the woman had pretty much left her alone. Things were turning out better than she thought they would. Doctor Chambers had even told her the day before if her mother remained stable and continued to recover well, they’d be able to do the surgery soon. The surgery. The one Mitch had already told her he’d be more than happy to give her the money for. Phoebe had wanted to just take it, but insisted on some sort of loan instead.

Finally, he’d given in, and Phoebe had felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Until yesterday, when she’d been cleaning her apartment and found a t-shirt left behind by Riley. She’d hidden it away, not wanting Mitch to see it. And even now, as she glanced at her boyfriend, all she could picture was Riley laying there instead. She might be able to fool everyone else, but she couldn’t quite make herself believe it. She was not over Riley. Not even close. Mitch was great, treated her the way she’d always wanted to be treated by a man, but he was still holding back. Whatever had made Diane scared of him, she needed to understand, to know what he was really like.

They were supposed to be going away for the weekend to a little cabin he owned in the mountains. She’d talk to him about it then. Maybe getting away from the city was what he needed to really open up to her. For now, she had to get to the office. Mitch stirred when she kissed him awake. “How are you always in such a good mood in the morning?” He groaned as he sat up and stretched, then pulled her close for another kiss. “I’m not sure.” “Well, I’ll take a dose of that any day.” She laughed as she got up, grabbing some clothes from her closet before she went to hop in the shower.

She’d just closed the door and was about to turn on music on her cell when it beeped. She glanced down at the number and frowned. “Who are you?” She opened the message. At first she thought someone had texted her by mistake, but then she realized who it was and her heart pounded in her chest. Her legs suddenly felt weak and she had to sit down, taking deep breaths to calm herself as she read the message again: It’s Ben. Riley won’t admit it, but he misses you, Phoebe. Whatever he said to you, I’m sorry, but he’s an idiot. He’s not himself, and he’s just getting worse. I know this is a lot to ask, but please, call him. Talk to him. He’s talking crazy

and I don’t think I can make him change his mind. “Change his mind about what?” she wondered. “What?” Phoebe jumped at Mitch’s voice on the other side of the door. “Oh nothing, sorry. Stubbed my toe.” He muttered something else, but she didn’t hear it, the thudding of her heart too loud in her ears. So Riley missed her, did he? Served him right for what he said to her. Why should she be the one to go and talk to him? Nope, he could suffer all he liked. Phoebe wasn’t going to care. She was going to hop in the shower and pretend she never even saw the text. She pulled up her calendar.

He was supposed to be getting married soon, anyway. Soon, he would no longer be her problem. *** Riley scratched his stubble as he yawned and went to pour himself a cup of coffee. A loud knocking at his door made him jump. “Shit, damn it… just a second!” He grabbed a towel to sop up the burning hot coffee from the counter and his hand, then hurried to answer the door. “Diane. What the hell are you doing here?” “I think you know what,” she said, pushing past him and heading into his kitchen. “I didn’t say you could come in,” he said, still holding the front door

open. She didn’t reply except to grab his cup of coffee and start drinking it. She grinned over the rim of the mug as he closed the door. “You have exactly two weeks until the deadline.” “Yes, and your point is what?” “My point is that if you ask me nicely right now, I will gladly accept your marriage proposal and can get the plans underway.” She took another long sip, then coughed. “Make this pot strong enough? Where’s your sugar?” “Diane, please get the hell out of my apartment before I call the cops.” Riley didn’t move even as his head started to spin. She was right, horribly and absolutely right. He was running out

of time fast. Ben was pushing him to do something, anything, to save his company, Linda was still acting strange, and every night when he went to bed in a drunken stupor, he saw only one face leaving his life forever. “Please, just leave.” Diane set the mug down and placed her hands on her hips. “Oh, please, you aren’t still sulking over that pathetic woman, are you? She’s so beneath you.” Riley gritted his teeth and took a threatening step forward, but then stopped himself. He didn’t care about Phoebe. He couldn’t. “I am not marrying you.” “Then you are going to lose

everything. You think I’ll let you stay on when I take over?” “There’s no reason for you not to.” “Yes, actually, there are—quite a few,” she argued sweetly. “However, if you marry me, we don’t have to deal with any of that messy business.” Riley opened his mouth to tell her no again, but stopped. What choice did he have really? At least marrying Diane, he knew what she was like, could find ways to keep her hands out of the money and the company. But if he lost it all to her, he would watch everything his grandfather made disappear in a shot. He couldn’t let the old man down like that. Already feeling sick to his stomach,

Riley forced the question out of this mouth before he could take any more time to think it over. Diane’s face froze in a look of sheer disbelief. “What?” “I said, will you do me the honor of being my wife?” She nodded slowly, then went to him and reached for his hands. “You are making the right choice, Riley. Really.” “I doubt it,” he muttered and pulled away. “You can leave now.” “Fine…fine. The date will be set this afternoon and I’ll get started on plans right away.” Riley could only nod. He watched her walk to the door, turn back

one last time with a look of sheer pleasure on her face, then leave. He let out the breath he’d been holding and collapsed on the couch. His wife. Diane Chandler, the snake in the grass, was going to be his freaking wife. “Damn, Meredith,” he whispered, “what the hell did I just get myself into?” *** Phoebe wasn’t sure how long she’d been staring at her computer screen. Her fingers didn’t move across the keyboard as she tried to make sense of how her morning had gone. She’d gotten the text from Ben. Then, before she’d left for work, Mitch’s cell had rung. She’d glanced at it and frowned at

the name. Linda. As in the Linda Riley knew? Why would she be calling Mitch? She’d wanted to ask him, but instead set his cell back down and hurried into her bedroom just as he’d rushed out of the bathroom and into the kitchen to grab it. Phoebe had tried to pick up on the conversation but only heard a few bits and pieces. Something about files and being sure that everything was in place for the merger about to happen. Phoebe had almost turned away at that until Mitch had grown angry. “You tell that damn asshole that if my money is late this time, I’m going to start breaking fingers.” There was silence before he’d muttered something else, then she heard

his steps coming back down the hall. Phoebe had grabbed her purse, kissed him on the cheek, and left in a hurry after that. By the time she’d gotten to her office, her mind was coming to all sorts of conclusions, and none of them were good. She was about to call Charlotte when the office door banged open and Diane walked in, looking as cheery as ever. “Ah, Phoebe, I’m so glad you’re here.” “Not sure where else I would be,” she said with a smile on her face. “Yes, well, I have great news! I’m getting married in two weeks!” Phoebe’s heart stuttered to a stop. Two weeks. Two weeks? That was

when Riley was supposed to be married by. She felt the smile start to slip from her face as Diane gloated, talking about venues and flowers and who to invite. But Phoebe blocked it all out. Why the hell would Riley marry her? “Excuse me,” Diane snapped. “Oh…did I say that out loud?” Phoebe whispered sheepishly. “Yes, you did, and how dare you say such a thing!” “I was just wondering,” Phoebe said, trying to sound innocent and failing. “I’ll have you know, we have been an off and on couple for quite some time now,” Diane said with a huff. “He finally just came to his senses.”

Phoebe bit her tongue before she said anything else. “Sorry, I have to go meet with someone upstairs.” She pushed back from her desk and ignored Diane’s call as she rushed out the door and tried to catch her breath. Riley was getting married to that witch? Was that what Ben had said about doing something drastic? She pulled out her cell and texted the number back: Riley is marrying Diane. It didn’t take long before another message came through: I know, his last option. For what? Phoebe texted back. The answer that came back was not what she expected. Diane Chandler had been

Riley Marston the first’s girl before he died, and if Riley didn’t marry, everything went to her. It made sense, then, to marry her, but…why did it have to be her! Phoebe headed into the elevator, not even sure where she was going, but she found herself on the upper floor. She walked through some cubicles, trying to look like she was supposed to be there, when she caught sight of Mitch. Mitch? They weren’t meeting today. Did he have business with Yancey? Last time she checked, none of his accounts were with this company, so why was he here? Phoebe made sure to stay out of sight and followed him as he headed

straight into Yancey’s office but left the door cracked behind him. She waited until Yancey’s assistant was looking the other way, then crept up to the doorway and listened. “—is it?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “My final payment. You skimped, didn’t you?” Yancey laughed. “Didn’t you hear? Your services are no longer required to keep Ms. Baron out of the way. Diane has convinced the man to marry her. In two weeks, our troubles will be over.” Phoebe gasped, then quickly covered her mouth. They paid Mitch to

date her? That…no, it couldn’t be. He liked her, really liked her, or was it all just another lie? Just like with Riley. Phoebe felt every last ounce of emotion for him slip away as their conversation continued. “I don’t care. You owe me, Yancey, and if you don’t deliver—” “Don’t threaten me in my own office. We are finished. I’m ending our contract. Do what you want, but Ms. Baron is no longer my problem. Once Marston is out of the way, nothing she finds in those files will do a damn thing to save his company from being taken over.” Phoebe heard Mitch curse but didn’t get to hear the rest of what he

said. She glanced over her shoulder to see his assistant returning to her desk, and Phoebe hurried away before she was caught. Who did she go to now? If she started taking Mitch to task, she might lose her chance to give her mother the surgery. It was too risky, too damn risky. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out see an urgent text from Charlotte: Mom awake and very coherent. Asking for you. Get here ASAP. Phoebe rushed down to her office, snatched her purse, and was about to leave when she saw Diane’s computer bag on the floor. The woman was nowhere in sight. On a whim, Phoebe grabbed it, too, then bolted out

the door to catch a cab to the hospital.

Chapter 24 Phoebe’s mind was still reeling by the time she made it to her mom’s hospital room. The last few visits had been very brief, and her mom hadn’t really been able to say much. But when Phoebe walked in, she heard her mom laughing with Charlotte, sitting up and looking better than she had in months. “Phoebe, there you are,” her mom said with a gentle smile. “Sorry, couldn’t get a cab,” Phoebe said, feeling her own face light up when her mom recognized her. “That’s all right. Charlotte kept me company.” Phoebe kissed her cheek and

thanked her friend before she sat down on the bed beside her mom. Charlotte left the two of them alone. “You feeling good today?” “I am. Doctor Chambers tells me I’ll soon be ready for surgery, but I have told him it’s not possible.” “What? Mom, you have to have that surgery,” Phoebe said, panicked. “We can’t afford it, sweetheart. I’m well enough to understand how far in debt you are, and you are not going to put yourself in any more to try and give me a few more years.” She squeezed her daughter’s hand as Phoebe shook her head. “But I have the money,” Phoebe told her.

“How? Phoebe, what did you do?” She shrunk in on herself. “I have a boyfriend who’s willing to put up the money.” Her mom stared at her long and hard. “Phoebe, you don’t love him.” “That’s not the issue. The issue is you having this surgery, and I don’t want to hear another word about it.” “Phoebe Anna Baron, you listen to me right now,” her mother said, and she turned to find her mom’s eyes narrowed. “You are not to take this money. The second you do, you are going to feel bound to this person forever. I will not let you feel like that just so I can have a surgery.”

“But Mom…you have to have it… You’ll die.” “Oh, sweetie,” her mom said, wiping the tears away from Phoebe’s eyes as they started to fall. “I know that lately I haven’t been there for you, but I can see what pain you’ve been through. I can’t ask you to keep putting me first like this. Ever since your father died, I haven’t been myself. I miss him so much. I was supposed to go first, you know.” “Neither one of you was supposed to go,” Phoebe muttered. “Everyone has their time, Phoebe. If mine comes sooner rather than later, well, I’ll get to see your father then.” “I can’t let you do this.”

Her mom grinned and leaned in close. “I’m not giving you a choice. It’s my head, remember?” Phoebe smiled and let her mother hold her close, a feeling she hadn’t had in a long time. Being comforted by the one woman in the world who understood her better than anyone. “Now, Charlotte tells me you had a falling out with this other man?” “Course she did.” “Well, what’s wrong with him? She said you were quite fond of that one.” “It’s complicated, Mom.” “So un-complicate it. Phoebe, life is too short for complications. If you

love the man, then tell him,” she said. “Don’t waste time. Please, for me. If I am only going to live for a short while, I’d like to see you happy before I go.” Phoebe and her mom clung to each other tightly as they talked about men and love, the ways of the heart, and how precious time was. A few hours later, Phoebe left the hospital and her mom, knowing what she had to do. She headed to Mitch’s place first. It was late enough that he would be home. She pounded on the door, and the second he answered, she hauled back her fist and punched him in the face. “Ow, damn it,” she cursed as he rubbed his jaw and stared at her, confused.

“What the hell was that for?” he muttered. “You lying to me, just like everyone else has. I’m sick of it. I know they paid you to keep me away from those files,” she snapped. “I’m done playing this game by their rules, and I’m done with you.” Part of her hoped he’d deny it, but he just stood there, arms crossed over his chest. “Fine, be that way. See ya’ around, Mitch.” “Phoebe, what are you going to do? You can’t go up against them. Yancey will make your life a living hell if you get in the way of their plans.” She stopped and turned back to

glare at him. “Not if I make his life a living hell first.” Without another word, she turned and stormed down the hall. Mitch called out to her, trying to get her back, yelling about her mom, but she tuned it all out. Her mom had been right. Her heart would never let Mitch in, not all the way, and she would never be able to trust him. This was her only option, breaking ties with him and putting this business behind her once and for all. When she reached the street, she pulled out her cell and made a call. “Yeah, it’s Phoebe. We need to talk.” *** Riley walked into his office, holding a laptop bag, still trying to make

sense of this plan Ben had. He said the laptop had come to him from an anonymous source, but he’d checked it out. The laptop was Riley Marston’s, his grandfather’s. He’d questioned his friend about it, but Ben had refused to say who had dropped it off. Said it didn’t matter. What did matter was catching the mole and getting rid of Diane Chandler’s meddling. It was still going to leave Riley in a legal clinch, but he’d figure that out if they made it through this morning’s events. “Diane is on her way up,” Ben called out from Linda’s desk. The woman in question was seated behind him and didn’t even look

up. She seemed scared almost, and Riley knew that all this time, he and Ben had been blinded by her charm and sweetness. Riley felt for Ben, having to accept the fact that Linda had used him, but they hadn’t told her anything yet. First, they had to catch the big fish. Then wait and see if she turned on the others. The cops had already been called and were waiting nearby, dressed in street clothes. Riley had informed the local detectives that some thieving had been taking place from his company and his grandfather’s private home. The second he’d mentioned Diane’s name, the detective on the phone had laughed. “Damn, we’ve been trying to nail her for fraud for years. What time is

she coming in?” With that, the trap was set and ready to spring the second Diane confessed. Riley stood in his office and waited, laptop bag out of sight under his desk. Any second now, she was going to appear on the floor and the game would begin. Ben stayed with Linda, just in case she tried to make a run for it. Riley felt his hands twitch impatient; then he heard Diane’s voice and forced himself to take a deep breath. “Keep it together,” he muttered to himself. “Don’t lose your temper, not yet.” Diane said a curt hello to Ben, and Riley caught her sideways glance at

Linda, but the latter didn’t even make eye contact. “Darling, I am very busy with the wedding plans,” she said when she entered his office. “What do you need?” “Just to go over some quick details,” he said, forcing a smile on his face. He reached up and tugged at the silver stud in his ear. “Some minor issues I need to clear up. You were at my grandfather’s ranch quite a lot. I was wondering if you ever noticed a laptop.” Diane hesitated for just a second before she sat down in the chair. “Laptop? I don’t think so, why?” “Because one is missing and I was just trying to understand how long it had been gone.”

She frowned, then readjusted her blouse. “Had been gone? I haven’t the slightest idea why you’d be asking me about it. Your grandfather hardly ever discussed his past work here with me.” “You two were very close, and yes,” he said, “had been gone. Thankfully, it turned up just this morning.” He reached down, grabbed the laptop from the bag, and set it on the desk in front of him. “This one—you don’t ever remember seeing it?” He watched as her eyes widened, and she cleared her throat. “No, I don’t believe so. Where did you find it?” “Well, that’s an interesting

story. A good Samaritan apparently found it and after he or she opened it up and realized it belonged to this company. It was turned in yesterday evening to Ben. Quite lucky, really. To think what would’ve happened if any of this got into the wrong hands,” he said, tapping his fingers on it. “But, no matter. I have it back.” She shifted in her chair, and he saw her hands curl around the arms of it. “Who was this person? Who turned it in?” Riley shrugged. “Not sure. Ben met with her.” “Her? It was a her?” she yelled. “Is there a problem, dear?”

“No…no, of course not. I just wanted to know who it was so I could properly thank her.” “Well, I’m afraid we will never know. Now then, I have a few meetings this afternoon with my lawyers. Changing a few accounts around and making sure that most of the company shares remain in my name. You understand, of course.” Diane shook her head. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. What are you doing?” “Well, that’s none of your damn business now, is it? Oh, and I think we might need to change the wedding plans, too,” he added, sitting in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “Since you are currently screwing the

competition.” Diane’s face flushed as she jumped to her feet. “That little bitch! I knew it was her!” Riley tried to keep his face blank. “Who?” “She’s ruined everything! He must have told her about it—” She immediately clamped her lips shut, but Riley wasn’t going to let her off that easy. “So you are having an affair with Yancey. Did you cheat on my grandfather, too?” “No, I did not say anything,” she argued. “You did, didn’t you? All those business trips—you were actually over

in Yancey’s office getting what you wanted from him. What deal did you make with him, huh? What could you possible get from an arrogant bastard like him?” “More than your grandfather ever gave me,” she yelled. “More than he ever let me have. Giving everything to you! I was his everything, and he was just going to leave every last bit of what really mattered to you!” Riley stood slowly and leaned on his desk. “I am his blood.” “I was almost his wife! So damn close to finishing this damn merger and then that damn woman had to stick her nose in it and take everything from me! She stole it from me, that traitorous

little bitch.” “Stole what?” Ben asked from the doorway. “The damned laptop!” Diane slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide as she glanced between Riley and Ben. “This laptop,” Riley said as his anger boiled over. “That’s funny, I thought you never saw it before. You lying to your future husband now? And cheating on me?” “No, that’s not what I said… No, I just…I have to get out of here and find…find…ah…” “Shut up, you idiot!” Linda yelled from her desk. Ben turned to glare at her, and

Linda cursed and bolted from her desk. Two plainclothes cops charged out from behind a cubicle and grabbed her before she reached the stairwell. “Get your hands off of me!” “You’re under arrest for taking bribes and theft,” one of the cops said, quickly reading her rights. “I’m sure, once we get downtown, we’ll find a few more things to charge you with.” As they took her away, two more detectives went into Riley’s office and started to cuff Diane. “Do you know who I am? Get your hands off of me!” “Ma’am, I suggest you keep your mouth shut,” the detective on the left said as he thanked Riley for his

assistance. “I have a feeling she’ll turn over her other associates once we get her in the tank.” “The tank? You can’t put me in a holding cell! My lawyer will hear about this!” “Yeah, yeah, that’s what all you rich women say. Mr. Marston, be seeing you.” The detectives took both cuffed women to the elevator. Riley let out a breath, trying to release the last bits of his anger with it. One problem solved, but another still loomed overhead. He turned to ask Ben what he should do, but his friend wasn’t there. He glanced around and found him talking to a greeneyed woman, grinning from ear to ear.

“Phoebe!” Riley called out. The second she heard him, she turned, her smile disappearing and took off for the stairs. “Phoebe, wait,” he yelled, but Ben grabbed him. “It was her, wasn’t it? She found the laptop.” “Yeah, she said she wanted to do something to make it right,” he said. “I have to talk to her,” Riley argued. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Let her go, Riley. Push too hard and well…” He trailed off. It was already too late for anything. “Come on, you have two weeks to find a bride.” Riley sighed and tugged at his ear. “You know what? You find me a

damn bride. I don’t want to meet her 'til the wedding. I’m tired of this, so freaking tired.” He rubbed the back of his neck and watched his employees gossip with each other over the latest events. Soon enough, William Yancey would be facing allegations for his role in all of this. Riley didn’t even care anymore. He’d saved his company. That was all he could hope for in this world. Love and happiness had just run out the door and left him alone for a second time.

Chapter 25 Two weeks went by in a blur, and before he knew it, Riley found himself being driven to a small chapel outside of the city for an even smaller wedding. He tugged at his ear until Ben grabbed his wrist and told him to knock it off. “You wanted this, remember,” his friend said. “You wanted complete detachment until today.” “Yeah, well, never said I was going to be happy about it.” Riley sulked. “You said she was pretty, right? I’m not marrying a horse or something?” Ben shot him a look. “Be happy I’m not that mean.”

“Heard from Linda at all?” “Since I helped send her to jail?” Ben laughed sadly. “No, not a word.” “I’m sorry, man, really.” “Nah,” his friend said. “She used me. Enough said. Oh, look, we’re here. Are you ready?” Riley groaned and wished he could disappear, but his last ditch effort to get out of the wedding had been met with his grandfather’s lawyers stonewalling him. The document was iron-clad. Nothing he did would get him out of this deal. Diane could still potentially get everything, even though she was in jail. His only choice was to marry. Today.

To a complete stranger. At least this way, he hoped there would be less drama. He’d go in there, say his vows, go on a honeymoon, and hope that one day he might learn to love the woman who would be linked to him for life. Or at least for as long as they could stand each other. Ben opened the door when the town car pulled to a stop and tugged at Riley’s sleeve when he didn’t seem ready to jump out. “The faster you get in there, the faster you can get this over with and go enjoy your honeymoon.” “Fine, fine,” Riley said and climbed out. He adjusted his black tux jacket and nodded at several guests arriving to the chapel. It was a very

small affair, with only a few friends and family from his side—Jim and Larry, and Bethany and Darcie. There was also a young woman pushing an older woman in a wheelchair he didn’t recognize. When Ben gave him a gentle shove towards the chapel, he started walking, trying to stay positive. At least he wasn’t marrying Diane Chandler. It didn’t take long for everyone to settle inside. Riley shifted on his feet, eyes focused on the beautiful stained glass images of flowers and rivers which changed the sunlight to intricate little rainbows reflected across the stone walls and floor. Candles had been lit behind the altar and lined the aisle.

White flower petals created a walkway for the bride—tulips and roses, by the look of it. The minister cleared his throat then motioned to the violin trio to begin the music. The young woman Riley saw outside the chapel started down the aisle. Her sage satin dress fit her perfectly, her long, blonde hair curled and pushed to one side, over her shoulder. She was smiling at Riley and Ben as she approached. Riley took a deep breath. If her friend was that attractive, then the bride had to be, too, right? He just hoped she didn’t laugh like a freaking hyena or try to take all his money. The music changed, and Ben nudged him with his elbow.

Riley stood straighter and tried to smile but found it hard. All last night, he’d dreamt of a face with gentle green eyes and auburn hair, laughing as she lay in his arms. If only that dream had been reality… The bride appeared in the doorway, veil covering her face. Riley gritted his teeth. Figured she would hide from him. Her walk down the aisle was slow, and it gave him time to admire her taste in fashion. The dress was all lace, draped delicately over her body. The capped sleeves added a sense of elegance intensified by the long gloves she wore. He watched her walk and grinned at her bare feet sticking out from under the hem as the train trailed behind

her. She had good sense, at least, not to wear five-inch heels. The bride reached out and squeezed the woman in the wheelchair’s hand as she passed, then Riley found her standing right beside him, handing her bouquet to her bridesmaid. “If everyone would please be seated,” the minister said. “Riley, will you do the honor of turning your bride’s veil?” Riley gulped as he reached out shaky hands for the edge of the veil. After just a moment’s hesitation, he flipped it over. His jaw dropped in disbelief at the smiling face staring up at him. “Hello, Riley.”

“Phoebe?” She reached up and took his shaking hands in hers. “I heard you missed me. Is it true?” He didn’t have words to tell her how much. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, his lips meeting hers with a fire that had been burning in him since the night she ran out of his apartment. She met his kiss with the same need, and they were lost, holding each other as tightly as they could, locked in an embrace that neither wanted to end. Someone cleared his throat, and their kiss broke apart slowly. The minister raised his brow. “I think we are a bit ahead of

ourselves.” Riley and Phoebe laughed with everyone else in the chapel. “Sorry,” they said together and turned, hands held tightly, to face the minister. The older man cracked a crooked grin. “Now then, if we can begin…” Riley and Phoebe’s eyes didn’t leave each other’s as the minister talked about love and their future life together. Neither one heard too much, already knowing what their lives were going to be like now that they’d found one another. Phoebe leaned against his shoulder, and Riley glanced up towards the heavens, feeling Meredith smiling down at them both. At the life he could

now have. At a life they both deserved.

BONUS NOVEL INCLUDED!

BAD BOY MONEY

(A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance)

By

Bella Grant

SARA

The day I received the invitation to the Saunders Empire private ball started off as an ordinary day. I woke up as usual at six in the morning, made it to my job as a barista in a local coffee shop, ate my brown-bag lunch, made small talk with customers I couldn't really stand, returned to my tiny apartment to a sink filled with dirty plates, ordered my usual Chinese combination fried rice, and went through my mail.

As I sat eating my greasy

dinner, I lazily glanced through the mail. Bills - people I owe and people who expect money from me, a couple of spam mails, and my Fashionette magazine, which came with a big pink sticker reminding me for the hundredth time that my subscription was ending and I could renew for a big discount. I tossed the magazine on a pile of magazines, and as I did, a golden envelope fell out from between the pages.

I cast a lazy glance at the envelope, trying to decide if I should get up from my cozy seat to pick it up or if I could do that the next day. Laziness got the better of me; if it was a bill, I

couldn’t afford to pay it until I got my next pay check in two weeks, so what was the point of opening it?

I grabbed the remote control and flipped through several channels until I found some dumb horror movie the one where a group of teenagers explore a haunted house and someone takes off to find out where a strange noise is coming from and inevitably gets killed. And of course, another teen followed to see if he's okay, and while the rest of them clamor together in one room, that teen is predictably killed. Slowly, they all disappeared until only one person escaped the house.

Around nine, I'd had enough of the crappy movie, so I decided to turn in for the night. I stepped over that golden envelope lying on the floor; my eyes darted to the return address. Saunders Empire. I picked up the envelope and opened it as I walked to my bedroom. The envelope and the paper it contained were certainly worth more than a day’s salary. It was rich and soft, and on the top was the monogram Saunders Empire. On the front was my name and address: Sara Nolles, 1245 North Main Street.

Saunders Empire caused a loud bell to ring in my head. I had interned for

one of the branches as an undergrad, but only briefly. I had applied for a job right after graduation, but they had kindly replied, in an envelope not as fancy as this one, that I was underqualified for the positions available, and they would contact me when a position I was qualified for opened.

I flipped the envelope over; it was sealed with a gold embossed wax in the shape of the Saunders Empires logo. Fancy, I smirked as I carefully broke the seal, my heart beating wildly. I hoped they had changed their minds and were offering me a job. I would certainly swallow my pride, dust off my bruised

ego, and accept the job without question. I pulled a card out of the envelope.

What caught my eyes first was the gold lettering and gold borders on the card. The gold was probably real gold. My eyes focused on the words on the card.

Dear Ms. Sara Nolles, It is my pleasure to invite you to the Saunders Empire private annual ball. As you are aware, this is an event for the most elite men and women in our country.

I enjoyed your company last time we met and hope you will join me again. Your invitation package will be delivered within the next twenty hours. We eagerly await your response. Sincerely, Nick Saunders

I read the card over and over again, wondering what I was missing. Then I started picking apart the phrases. They must have made a mistake. For all the money and resources Saunders Empire had, they couldn't keep their guest list correct? Yeah, granted I had

interned there, but how did I end up on their guest list? Did someone who knew me when I was there include me on the list?

Me, a part of the elite group of men and women? Elite men and women! Is that a joke? I can't even get a job with an elite man or woman, whatever the heck elite meant. I imagined elite meant "rich and stuck up," men who listed "playboy" as a hobby and women who hired maids to brush their hair and apply their makeup. This had to be a case of mistaken identity. Perhaps there was a Sara Nolles somewhere on their guest list and our names and address had

crossed.

And what the heck did he mean by he had enjoyed my company? What exactly did the real Sara Nolles do for him? I only saw Nick Saunders once during my internship, and he had been presenting to a room full of his employees. He would never have noticed me tucked all the way in the back, and even if he had noticed me, I prided myself on not being the type of woman playboys like him dated – rich, skinny, obnoxious women. Nick’s reputation for having an insatiable appetite for women preceded him, and I did not want to be on his list.

I read the card again as I walked to my bed. I would call the next day and inform the company of their error. I was not elite, and the card was certainly not for this Sara Nolles.

NICK Nick stared at the picture of the woman who had remained in his mind since the day she had served him coffee at a downtown coffee shop. She had looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place where they had met because he knew nothing would have stopped him

from making a move on her whenever they met.

She was one of those women he hated to admit were irresistible, the type he hated because they were too proud to admit their need of him and made the chase too hard. He had his private detective scoop her out once he’d left the coffee shop, and it hadn’t been hard to pin her down. Within hours, he knew everything he needed to know about her, including the fact that she had interned with him years ago. How had he missed her? So unlike him to let someone who looked like that get away without getting her into his infamous

bed.

He flipped the pages of her file, re-reading her life for the millionth time. She had just been dumped by her boyfriend of four years and lived downtown in a dingy apartment. He had to get to her. Initially, he had planned to approach her straight, but he knew a woman like that was not one to be approached without a plan. Then he thought about using her friend to get to her, but that was cliché. Who still talked to girls through their friends? That was so last century.

He looked at her picture again, letting himself drown in her hazel eyes. Really pretty, definitely sexy face –a woman who stood out from all the girls he had dated– long, black, luscious curls that he wanted to get his hands into, lips so succulent he could only imagine kissing them until she moaned his name, and an attitude bigger than her delicate though curvy frame. She had to be his. No other way around it.

When she had served him coffee without an ounce of recognition, he knew she was going to be hard to get.

“Hello, welcome to Pixies,” she had said. “How may I help you?”

“Coffee.”

“What type of coffee, sir? We have several different varieties.” Her hazel eyes had stared into his, and in that moment, there had been an instant attraction. Her eyes never left his gaze, and he was not one to back down from a woman.

“What would you recommend?” he asked, momentarily

forgetting that he only drank dark espresso.

“Well, how do you like your coffee? Sweet, strong, dark?” she asked, her gaze still on him.

Sweet would be awesome, he thought. Sweet like her lips? His eyes had moved to her lips but found their way back to her eyes. She was certainly beautiful, and if he had to guess her age, maybe twenty-three? Twenty-five? Maybe she was too young for his thirty years of age. He should probably back down while he could.

“I’ll take whatever you recommend,” he had told her and hoped he didn’t regret it. It was only coffee, after all. No harm could be done.

“Sure. You look like someone who likes it dark and strong,” she said, a faint smile curving her lips.

Nick looked at her, trying to determine if she was serious. From the glint in her eyes, he could tell she was teasing him. This would have been the perfect time to invite her to dinner or coffee or whatever, but he didn’t do it.

She would turn him down. She looked like one of those women who liked the thrill of being chased but never really gave in to a man. He didn’t want to give her the upper hand, at least not yet.

“Very perceptive,” he had replied, smiling at her.

“No, just served enough coffee to know what my customers might like,” she said flatly.

Sharp tongue, certainly; she had a smart mouth. “So how did you

guess I like it dark and strong?” He could have turned on the charm and gotten her to his side, but she didn’t look at all interested in him.

“Your watch. A man’s watch says a lot about him.”

He looked at his Rolex. Damn. She was indeed cautious. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes. I can tell you like it dark and strong, because you’re sort of the bossy type.”

“You’re right again,” he had told her but didn’t justify himself. Yes, he liked his coffee strong, and he could be quite bossy. Demanding was the word his closest staff used. Yes, he could be demanding and pushy, but that had shaped him into one of the most powerful and richest men in the country. He had no apologies for that. If anything, it was his privilege.

When she returned with his coffee, she had asked with a faint smile on her face, “Is that all you’ll be wanting today, sir? May I get you a bagel, perhaps?”

He had been taken aback by her calling him sir, but when he looked at her, she was still smiling, teasing. “Not today, thanks. But may I invite you to dinner?”

She didn’t hesitate with her answer. “I don’t date customers.”

“How about I don’t buy the coffee. Then I won’t be a customer,” Nick had joked, but the joke didn’t go down well.

“No, sir. Not interested. Here’s

your coffee.” She had almost pushed the coffee into his hands. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s a line behind you.”

Nick didn’t look behind him. What did it matter? The world usually waited on him hand and foot, and the line behind him was no exception to the rule. He smiled at her again and handed her a twenty, but she rejected it.

“It’s on the house. But please don’t ask me out again. The answer will always be no,” she had informed him before waving him off so she could help the next customer.

Nick had gone to the side of the café to nurse his drink and his pride. How dare she dismiss him? Did she not have a clue who he was? In situations where he felt slighted, he would have usually told off the girl and stormed out. Childish, yes, but being rich meant he could get away with some dumb shit sometimes. This time, though, he had wanted the girl and would swallow his pride to get her into his bed, even if only once.

He had not felt the need to inform her who he was but had quietly sat in the corner of the café and watched

her until it became rude. She never gave him a second glance, but within that short span of time as he observed her, he had learned so much about her, more than the private detective could ever tell him. He saw the way she brushed a loose stand of hair out of her face again and again. That alone told him she was a little messy and rather quick-witted; otherwise she would simply redo her ponytail.

The way she smiled at her coworkers told him she had a good heart, but she didn’t look like someone who could be taken for granted. His observation told him she would be hard

to get but worth the chase, and he was up to it. If she had smiled at him or encouraged him, he would have gone up to her and invited her to dinner again, or given her his card and told her to call him at her convenience. At such times, most girls would take a brief look at the card and recognition would hit them, and they would suddenly become putty in his hands. Not this one.

He had hung around the café for a while, and as soon as he left, he had called his private investigator to get more information about her.

Twenty-four hours later, he was holding her entire life in a file in his hands. He pulled out a picture of her and smiled. She would never be anyone’s puppy. Even the way she posed confidently in the picture told him the only time she would ever bark would be in the bedroom. Or maybe purr. Whatever. And if he wanted her in his bed, he had to do something about it. Get her into his space. Maybe get her to the annual ball where he could woo her with kindness and luxury. It didn’t take him long to decide to invite her to his company’s annual ball.

When he first came up with the

plan, he was so sure she would call him and tell him he had the wrong Sara Nolles, in which case he would have explained to her that she was welcome to come since she already had the card. He had been waiting all day for her to call him, but his phone had yet to ring. Either she hadn’t seen the card yet or had decided to ignore it, but he was hoping she would have at least acknowledged the receipt of the card. Either way, he was going to move ahead with the next stage in the plan with the solid assumption that she would come out of curiosity.

SARA The next morning, I woke up to the sound of the doorbell ringing. I ran to the door, expecting to see my best friend from kindergarten, Amy, who always showed up at odd hours at my house. She usually unlocked the door with the spare key she had, but sometimes she rang the doorbell first just in case I was in some compromising situation with a nonexistent man. It didn't matter these days because I didn't have a boyfriend, so the worst thing that could happen if she opened the door without warning would be to see me naked. That she had seen a million times over the twenty years of our friendship.

I didn't bother putting my robe on. Only when I opened the door did I realize that I was practically naked, having slept in just a tee-shirt. But it was too late to close the door. I stood selfconsciously in front of a delivery man who handed me a gold box. He looked at me for a few seconds, probably taking note of my nipples, which had hardened against my tee-shirt in the draft of cold air from the opened door.

"Good morning, Ms. Nolles?" he asked, looking around like he was lost.

"Yes, I’m Ms. Nolles." I looked at his badge, which had the Saunders Empire logo and his name. "Hello, David.”

He also looked down at his badge and smiled at me. "Ms. Sara Nolles?" he asked again as if to ascertain he was in the right place and I was the right person.

"Yes, I'm Sara Nolles," I replied again.

"I trust you received your personal invitation from Mr. Saunders?"

"Yes..." I said, unsure why he was asking. “But there seems to be a mix up.”

"I can’t speak for the mix up, ma’am. You may have to call the company directly. I’m here to deliver a follow-up from the card. This is from Mr. Saunders," he said, handing me the box.

Before I could say a word, he

had turned away. "No wait, David. I don’t think you have the right Sara Nolles. I mean, I did get a card yesterday in the mail, but I think …”

"If you got a card, ma'am, then this box is for you. My instructions were to deliver this to you at this address and confirm you received a card yesterday."

"Yes," I said, still unsure.

"I suggest you call the RSVP number on that card if you have any questions." He offered a faint smile.

"Sure. I will. Thank you,” I said. I sighed and took the box inside. It was a decently sized box but didn't weigh much. Wrapped in a pretty bow, the box smelled nice as if it had a builtin fragrance. I set it on my living room table and slumped onto the couch.

The box looked tempting and I bet it contained some goodies. But it wasn't mine. It was addressed to me, but I was the wrong Sara Nolles. The most sensible thing to do was return the box to Saunders Empire on Monday or call the number on the card and ask them to pick it up and send it to the right owner. I

thought of the million reasons I shouldn't open the box - then I thought of one reason why I should. I had never been given a gift box from a man, not to mention a billionaire. Surely whatever he had sent would be amazing; I felt justified to open the box since it had my name on it.

Once I convinced myself it was okay, I didn't waste another minute. I quickly untied the shiny bow embossed with the Saunders Empire logo. I took a deep breath and opened up the box.

"Wow!" I exclaimed, shocked.

The doorbell rang before I could process what was inside the box.

I knew it was Amy because, before I could get up, the key was already turning and she was yelling. "Sara, I'm coming in!"

Shit. I didn't have time to hide the box, and I really didn't want Amy to see it. She was my best friend and I loved her to death, but if she saw it, the chances of me returning the box to the right owner would end. Amy was the only person who knew how to make me live on the edge and take chances. Some

days, I needed that push, but this time, I needed privacy. I tried to cover the box, but she was by my side in a few steps.

"Hey, what's that?" she asked as she sat next to me and took the top off.

"Good morning, Amy," I sighed. "I was just about to figure it out."

Amy didn't speak as she lifted a jewelry box, which had been carefully placed in the center of the box. I tried to take it from her, but she pushed my hands away and opened it.

"Is this shit real?" she asked as the glare of the morning light coming in my tiny window shone on a necklace set with shiny stones.

"I guess," I answered with a shrug, taking the box from her and feeling the stones. They looked like diamonds. Big, chunky diamonds set into a necklace.

"No way this is cubic zirconium. Is this from Jim?" "You know Jim and I broke

up," I said.

"Oh yeah, the asshole.”

I didn't care to revisit my experience when I caught my then boyfriend messing around with his coworker in the printer room. He had dumped me like I had cheated on him. He had claimed he was in love with the girl and wanted to marry her. Since I was no longer in love with him, it didn't hurt as much as it could have. I had simply wished them luck and moved on.

"Sorry," Amy said, realizing her joke wasn't all that funny. “I shouldn’t talk bad about your ex.”

“That’s fine,” I mumbled. “He was an asshole.”

"So who would send you this necklace? Who are you fucking?”

“Amy!”

“Just asking. Men don’t buy jewelry for women without wanting

more from them. It's absolutely gorgeous, by the way. You should try it on."

"I can’t try it on. It's not mine."

Amy looked at the cover of the box. "Says Sara Nolles here."

I nodded but didn’t explain it was probably the wrong Sara Nolles. Instead, I reached into the box and found a gold envelope. I tried to hide it from Amy, who was busy admiring the necklace. But she saw it and snatched it

out of my hands.

"I swear, I’ll be so mad if you're dating someone and refused to tell me," she smirked as she ripped open the envelope and pulled out a card.

"Give it to me, Amy," I said, trying to take it from her, but she playfully pushed me aside, and using one hand, she pinned me to the chair while she extended the hand that held the card.

"Sara. It will be my pleasure if you wear this to the ball. I hope we can

complete our unfinished business," she read aloud. "Eagerly waiting for you, Nick."

Amy handed the card to me and stood up, hands akimbo. "Who is Nick? Why didn't you tell me you were dating someone? I thought we shared secrets. All secrets. Eagerly waiting for you? What unfinished business?”

"Amy, it's a misunderstanding. That's what I've been trying to tell you." "Is that a real diamond necklace?" she asked, her eyes returning to the necklace which lay on the counter.

"Yes. It's from Nick Saunders."

"Nick Saunders? Billionaire playboy Nick Saunders?"

"Yes," I said softly, too tired to defend myself.

"Are you sleeping with that asshole and didn't tell me?"

"What? Of course not. I've never even met him!"

"So why is he sending you gifts? Why is he talking about unfinished business?"

"Because I think he thinks I'm some other Sara," I told her as I walked over to the side table on my bed where the card from the day before was lying. I picked it up and handed it to Amy.

"What's that?" She eyed me as she took the card and read it.

"It came in the mail yesterday. I

think my address must have been mixed up with someone else's," I said as I sat next to her.

"A private ball? Are you going?"

"No. I am going to call that number on the card on Monday and ask them to pick up the necklace and card, and deliver them to the right person."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying this package is not mine and the right Sara may be expecting it. I mean, if I get caught with this, I could be in big trouble."

"Sara! Listen to yourself. Are you even thinking? You're broke. Stuck in a one-room tiny studio that barely gives you space to move around. You're working as a minimum wage barista and you can barely afford your graduate school fees. And goodness knows how many people you owe and how much you have in the bank right now."

"Ten dollars," I murmured,

smiling, but Amy’s lecture wasn’t over.

"This necklace is yours and you are going to that ball."

"Heck no. I'm not going anywhere near Nick Saunders. You think he won't know I'm the wrong Sara? What if the right Sara shows up? I could get arrested and lose my job. I can't, Amy. Doesn't even make sense. Going to an elite ball is out of the question. I won't even know how to act or what to do. And all those people probably know each other, so I'll stick out like a sore thumb.”

"Sara, this could be an opportunity of a lifetime."

"No. Besides, you know that guy is an asshole. He changes women like you would underwear.”

“My kind of man.”

“Come on, Amy. Be serious for once.”

"I am. You might meet some of

the richest men in the world."

"And their snobbish, Barbiedoll wives," I said.

"Ignore the women. They've got nothing on you with all your curves," Amy said with a smile.

"Amy, this doesn't sound right. Besides, I don't have the right dress or shoes. I can't even differentiate between a dinner fork and a salad fork. How do you expect me to fit in? It's not going to work." My arguments were weak. Once

Amy had her heart set on something, she wouldn't let up until she reached a reasonable conclusion. Right now, she was focused on making me attend that ball; I was fighting a losing battle.

"Oh, don't worry about shoes and clothes. With a body and face like yours, you could easily wear rags and still look way better than all those women in million-dollar dresses. I'm sure we'll find something elegant. Your dress is on me if you promise to go in there and make great contacts for both of us. I want to be at that ball next year.”

"I don't know, Amy. It's just so wrong to impersonate someone else."

But Amy wasn't listening to me. She was done with the conversation and was heading to my kitchen in search of breakfast. I looked at the necklace once more, touching the solid stones. I was tempted to try it on, but I knew once I put it on, there was no going back. I would have to go to the ball. I closed the jewelry box and put it back in the gold box. What had I gotten myself into? Or rather, whose idea was this cruel joke?

NICK When David, his personal chauffeur cum assistant, returned from Sara’s house and informed him that she had almost refused his invitation, Nick wanted to call her and end the secrecy. He knew her number by heart. There were so few numbers he bothered to memorize; hers was one of them. He envisioned a time when he could call her as often as he pleased and she would purr into the phone, lovingly. Not yet though. If she managed to contact him in any way and realized he was the same man who had asked her out at the coffee shop a few days ago, she would flat out

refuse the necklace and the invitation. At least if she was in possession of the necklace, she would most likely feel a moral obligation to return the necklace to him at the ball. But as the week went by, every hour became a slow second, and he needed to see her again, even if it was just to provoke her anger. He loved the way those fiery, hazel eyes lit up when she’d been mad at him the first time he’d met her at the coffee shop. He loved how she had ignored him while he sat there, yet stole glances at him as she went about her business. Yes, she had done a good job of ignoring him and keeping to herself, but he could sense that an opportunity existed for him to break down her barriers if he got the

chance to get closer to her. Getting closer to her was the operative phrase, and he could do it in so many ways - see her at the coffee shop again and try to be less of a demanding asshole or wait until she showed up at the ball and introduce himself properly. The rational side of him told him to leave things alone and wait for her at the ball, which was only a week away. At the ball, he would pretend like the invitation and the coffee shop meeting were not connected. He knew she would call him out, but he hoped she would find it charming when he told her he really wanted to see her and had used the invitation as an excuse. It was really best to leave things alone lest he stir

things up so much she caught on to who he was and flatly refused to honor his invitation. As he sat in his expansive office overlooking all of Manhattan, he tried to give himself several reasons why staying away from her was the best thing, but he failed woefully. He needed her. Even if it was for just one lunch hour. “Bev,” he called to his secretary via the intercom as he rose from his chair. “Please have David pull the car around in five minutes.” “Yes, sir,” Bev, his secretary of ten years, answered. “Going to lunch?”

“Yes,” he said. “Please cancel all my meetings until two.” “Should I make a reservation for you somewhere?” she asked. “Your favorite restaurant?” “No. I think I’m in the mood for something local,” he said. “Sure thing, sir,” Bev said, a hesitation to her voice. He put on his jacket, which had been hanging on his chair, and right before he made it out of his office, he switched his Rolex for a simpler watch. Sara wasn’t impressed by wealth, which was why she hadn’t recognized him. The Rolex made him stand out too much, and

with Sara, he didn’t need to stand out. He needed her to stand out. In less than a minute Nick was out of his office and walking toward Bev, a pretty blonde. “You should take lunch soon,” he said to her, smiling as he passed her. “Yes, sir,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t need a reservation for lunch?” “Not today,” he said, waving at her as he got in the elevator. The poor woman was probably confused. He always had reservations for lunch. Some of the restaurants held standing reservations and some she had to call ahead right before he got there so they had his seat waiting.

But where he was going for lunch today needed no reservation. He was sure of it. When he got downstairs, David was standing next to the car, waiting to open the door of the limo for him. “Where are we going, sir?” he asked. “That coffee shop on the side corner of L and Penn Street,” he said. “The one where Sara Nolles works?” David asked. “Yes,” Nick answered. Typically, his business was his business. He did not share his business with his staff, but David had been with him too

long to keep his affairs secret. David picked up his women and took them back. He had seen him go through a million relationships and witnessed them all fall apart. “She’s nice,” David volunteered. “I think she’s a good choice, sir.” “Yes, she is,” Nick said with a smile. “But I know she’s going to be a tough one.” “Not for you, sir,” David answered, smiling. Nick’s smile widened. David was right. He had never had difficulties getting women, and Sara Nolles was not

going to be the first. He had to admit, though, there was something different about Sara, but he couldn’t quite figure it out yet. He just knew she was different – sharp-tongued, pretty, demanding, and ignorant of his status and how much money he had. It suited him just fine. He closed his eyes as the limo drove through town, taking him closer to the girl of his dreams. She was passionate, that he could tell. Just the fire in her eyes alone was enough to tell him she would be a piece of work in bed, someone he might not be able to handle. A ball of fire. But he was open to challenges, and if Sara Nolles wanted a challenge, he would bring it.

They arrived at the coffee shop quickly, and he asked David to stay in the limo. No need to tip off Sara since she had already met David. Nick entered the coffee shop. Normally he would have felt out of place, but he felt completely at home as his eyes scanned the room for Sara. She was nowhere to be found. “Welcome to Pixies. How can I help you?” an elderly woman called out to him, drawing his attention to her. He walked up to her with a smile. “Hello. What is your lunch special?” he asked. “Combination fried chicken

rice with some cabbage,” she said, pointing to a bowl of greasy food which Nick would never eat even if his life depended on it. He had to draw the line somewhere. “Can I just get a sandwich please? A grilled chicken. Lettuce, tomatoes, mayo, and ketchup will be fine,” he ordered. No point in asking for organic stuff. “Sure,” the woman said. “Twelve dollars.” He pulled out a wad of notes from his pocket and handed her a hundred-dollar bill. “Please keep the change,” he said.

The woman looked at him, and her eyes lit up. “You sure?” “Yes, if you can tell me where Sara Nolles is.” Her countenance changed, and she pushed the money back to him. “I’m not selling Sara out for ninety dollars. What do you want with her?” she asked suspiciously. Nick contemplated the best way to tell the woman about Sara without making a big deal of it or embarrassing Sara. “Oh, no, nothing like that. I met her a few days ago. Here. I just wanted to catch up with her.” She leaned in close. “You

know, she’s a lovely girl, Sara is. And her boyfriend just left her.” “Yes,” Nick replied, not sure why her words would be important to him, but he let her keep talking. He already knew about the boyfriend who had cheated on her. “If you like her, please don’t hurt her,” she said, then pulled away from him. “No, nothing like that. I just want to say hello to her.” The woman looked at the clock on the wall. “She should be here any minute, probably before your chicken is done. I’ll send her to bring your food to

you. Just to let you know, she’s like a daughter to me, so I’ll be watching you.” “Of course. Thank you so much,” Nick said to the woman, but she had gone back to her work. He moved to a chair next to a window. Like the woman predicted, Sara arrived soon after. He saw her walk in wearing her black and white uniform. Only a woman with Sara’s curves and eyes could make a simple waitress uniform look sexy. She didn’t see him, which worked best for him, but he couldn’t hide for too long. “Hello, Sara,” he said. She looked like she was going

to ask him how he knew her name, but she looked at her tag and smiled ever so slightly. Nick was glad she hadn’t asked because he would have had to lie to her again. He wasn’t going to admit to her that he had someone check out her entire life and that he knew everything there was to know about her, even the fact that she had a cat named Pussy Bow when she was a kid. That would freak her out and destroy whatever chances he had of getting close to her. Even being in her presence before the ball was probably a bad idea. She would most likely recoil when she saw him at the ball if he left her with a bad experience. “I’ve seen you recently,” she said as she put the plate on the table.

Oh good, Nick thought. She was being nicer today, but he didn’t push it. “Coffee? Dark and strong?” Nick suggested, smiling. “Oh yeah, the Rolex guy,” she said, smiling in return. She looked at his wrist. “Not today,” he told her as he pulled up his sleeve and showed her the watch he wore today, which was equally expensive but one he could bet she didn’t know. His gamble paid off; she did not recognize the watch. “I see you’re keeping it simple today.” “Yes,” Nick said with a smile.

“Simple can be best.” “Unless you’re riding in the limo parked across the street.” She pointed outside the window and Nick had no choice but to look at the limo. Thankfully, it was a regular black limo and the windows were dark. She wouldn’t be able to recognize David unless he chose to step out of the limo at that instant. “Work.” “What sort of work do you do that requires a limo and a Rolex?” she asked curiously. “Real estate,” Nick said, hoping she wouldn’t ask any more

questions. He didn’t lie about his work, but he didn’t want to reveal too much. This visit was not going according to his plan. He had planned to come in and say hello to her just to see her, then leave. He didn’t want her to ask questions that could lead her to suspect the card he sent her was not a mistake. He needed to gain control of the situation. “Investment real estate.” “That sounds interesting. Would you like some ketchup with your sandwich?” And just like that she had lost interest in him. “No, this is fine,” Nick replied, cursing himself for showing up at her work place. Now he had given her

something else to hold against him. Clearly she didn’t care about his money, or maybe she just didn’t like him. There was no way for him to know, and he didn’t want to hang around any longer and make things worse. And actually, he did like ketchup on his sandwich, but he wasn’t going to ask her for anything, except maybe a way to get out of there really fast. “Well, enjoy your lunch. I hope it’s to your satisfaction.” She was finished with him and was departing when he called her back. “Excuse me, Sara. May I get a take-away plate?” he asked. “I have to be somewhere.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll wrap it up for you then,” she replied after a moment of hesitation. She stepped back, took the plate, and walked away. She returned quickly with his food nicely packaged in a Styrofoam plate in a plastic bag. “I put some ketchup on the side. I have a feeling you like ketchup,” she said as she handed the bag to him. She had a little more than a hint of a smile on her face. “Thank you,” Nick said as he slipped her a few hundred dollar bills as a tip when she wasn’t looking. He didn’t look back to see her reaction as he walked to the door. He would see her in a few days. No need to push any more

buttons.

SARA When the man left, I went back to wipe the table and pick up the tip I had seen him leave. In as much as I didn’t want a tip from him since I hadn’t done much, my salary was minimal and I had to make up my earnings with tips. I assumed he had left a couple of dollars, and even though it wouldn’t do much for me, it could at least add to my savings for gas money that week. I picked up the loose change and the cash. Five hundred dollars!

My first instinct was to run after him and return the money because it had to be a mistake. He must have meant to drop five singles and had inadvertently left five hundred-dollar bills. I looked up, but he was already out the door. I ran out to catch him.

“Excuse me,” I called, but he didn’t hear me with the distractions and noise of the busy street. “Hey, Mister!” I called even louder, but he had already crossed the busy street.

I tried to follow him, but a bus

slowed right in front of me. I waited for the bus to come to a complete stop so I could navigate around it, but I was too late. Before I could get to the other side of the road, his sleek limousine had pulled out.

I looked at the money in my hands, wondering how I could return it to him, but a thought hit my mind. The money wasn’t a mistake. The man wore a Rolex and had a limo. He probably had meant to tip me the exorbitant amount, which I was not opposed to. What I would be opposed to was if his rich ass came back wanting more from me. I debated what to do with it. It was

legitimately mine; I had earned it as part of my privileges of serving Mr. Rich. Even though I thought it was way too much, I decided to accept it. My rent was due and the money would go a long way to subsidizing it. And even if I didn’t have impending rent, I had a party to go to.

Amy had promised to shop for me, but I couldn’t leave everything up to her. I needed to pay for some stuff myself. I took a second look at where his limo had been parked, which had been quickly replaced by two cars. It was almost as if he hadn’t been there. I whispered a thank you to no one in

particular, pocketed the money, and went back to work.

Throughout the rest of my work day, my mind remained on the stranger and how deeply he had looked into my eyes with his dark brown, sexy eyes like he could see the depths of my soul. I smiled as I remembered the way his lips had curved into a slight smile when he spoke. I bet those lips tasted like sugar, no honey. He had to taste like honey. Men like him didn’t taste any less sweet.

I needed to get a grip on myself. I almost poured coffee on a

client while lost in my imagination. Mr. Rich had distracted me like no one else had. I got through the day like clockwork - smiling at customers, taking orders, serving food, cleaning up after them. Each time the door opened, I looked up in anticipation, expecting Mr. Rich to come through the door, but I was disappointed every time.

By the time evening rolled around, I was a hot mess. All I wanted to do was get home and sleep him off. I was probably never going to see him again anyways. I didn’t have to work the next day, and though I would have liked a

chance to go in just in case he showed up again, common sense told me a man like that had more to do with his weekends than come to a deli chasing after a waitress, if that was what he was truly doing.

After tossing around on the bed for a few hours and getting nowhere with my day, I decided to get up, shower, and take a walk. My walk didn’t clear my head like I hoped it would. Thoughts of Mr. Rich kept playing like a movie. After a few miles, I gave up and walked home, put my PJs back on, and got back into bed. I had more important problems than my raging hormones to worry about.

I had yet to solve the problem of what to do about the stupid elite ball I had no business going to. Funny how I could still be influenced by peer pressure even as an adult!

I lay on my bed twiddling with the pre-invitation, or was it a save-thedate card? I knew better than to let Amy's crazy decisions override my common sense. It didn't make sense to dress up, wear a necklace that wasn't for me, and attend a party I wasn't technically invited to. Alarms might go off as I stepped into the building. Nick Saunders could rip the necklace off my neck and call the cops on me.

If I ever had a chance of working for his empire, impersonating someone else at his ball would destroy it. Saunders owned most of the city, so if I ever wanted a decent job in this town, the sensible thing to do was place that call and return everything to the right Sara.

Unless I wanted to work at the coffee shop until my hair turned gray.

I grabbed my cell phone and punched the numbers on the card but hesitated to push the "talk" button. I

stared at the phone until it timed out, then I did it again. What if Amy was right? All the good breaks I've had in life were due to Amy's input. She helped me get accepted into the college of my dreams and obtain a scholarship that covered most of my expenses. I still had to get student loans, but it would have been worse without the scholarships. She encouraged me to apply for jobs that I would never have had the courage to consider. Unfortunately, due to the economy souring, I wasn't able to get the job of my dreams with Saunders. So she had gotten me a job at the coffee shop while we looked for other jobs.

What was the worst that could happen if I did go to the ball? It wasn't my fault I got an invitation card addressed to me. If Nick Saunders got mad, I would simply return the necklace, apologize, and let myself out. Maybe if they needed a waitress, I could volunteer to help and earn some extra money while I was there.

Common sense, which had been escaping me more often recently, demanded that I call and inform them I had been accidentally invited. I punched the numbers on the phone again and pressed send. It rang a few times and went to a voicemail.

"This is Nick Saunders. Please leave a message."

Shit! The number was Nick's personal cell phone? The real Sara Nolles must be important enough to have direct access to him. I quickly hung up the phone as the beep sounded to leave a message. I was not going to leave a message for the richest man in town. What would I say to him? Hi Nick, you invited me to a party and sent me this lovely necklace, but I can't go and I can't wear it because I'm not the real Sara Nolles. But my friend Amy thinks I should go, so I wanted to make sure it

was okay with you.

Okay, that sounded dumb. Real Sara Nolles? When did I become the fake Sara? Maybe if I dialed again and just said that I got an invitation by error and wanted to get a return address? That sounded more reasonable and more adult.

I picked up the phone again and punched the number for the millionth time. What if he picked up? Was I ready to talk to him? Rich men frightened me. Maybe all that money and fame rubbed me the wrong way. I wasn't going to call

him. I'll just drop by one of their offices on Monday and drop off the card with a note. I could ask him to have someone call me to arrange to pick up the necklace so I made sure it got back to him. I couldn't imagine how expensive the necklace was and how much trouble I could be in if I lost it.

With my decision firmly made, I got out of bed and put on some shorts and a tee. It was still early enough to go for another walk or even run a mile or two. As I laced my sneakers, strapped on my running watch, and cranked up the music on my headphones, I knew I had made a good decision regarding the

party.

When I returned from my run, three miles and thirty minutes later, Amy was sitting in my apartment. I swear the way she showed up at my apartment as she pleased, it's hard to imagine she didn't live there.

"Running away from home?" I asked as I opened my door and found her sprawled on my bed flipping through the latest copy of Fashionette magazine. "Blueberry pancakes," I murmured as the familiar smell of her delicious pancakes hit my nose. Amy was the cook between

the two of us. I always opted for carryout and didn't think twice about ordering food for every meal.

"Vanilla blueberry pancakes," she corrected. "You didn't have any sausage or bacon."

"Maybe because I hardly cook," I pointed out. “And maybe because I’m not a big meat person.”

"Maybe you should cook once in a while," she said as she got out of the bed and walked to the tiny kitchen. “And

maybe you should buy sausage.”

"Amy, you know I can cook very well. I just choose not to cook,” I reminded her, slightly irritated, which was useless because it really never bothered Amy when I got mad at her.

"Sure you can cook. When was the last time you cooked? Fifth grade?"

"Third maybe," I said, laughing. "I'll take a quick shower and be right out."

"Hurry up so the food doesn't get too cold!” she yelled as I disappeared in the shower.

"Yes, ma'am!" I called as I closed the bathroom door. In less than ten minutes, I was dressed in sweats and sitting with Amy.

"So why are you here so early?" I asked between forkfuls of food.

"We're going shopping," Amy said dryly.

"For what?" I asked. I was really short of money and shopping was not on my list of things to do. “I don’t need anything at the mall right now.”

"What do you mean?” she asked, slightly irritated. “Of course you need to go to the mall.”

“What do I need at the mall?” I asked.

“Your ball gown, idiot! The party is a week away and you have

nothing to wear."

"Oh, a dress. Amy, you know I can't go. You know it doesn't make sense. It's sort of crazy and…” But even as I protested, I knew I was fighting a losing battle.

First off, I really did want to go to the ball. I wanted to see how the rich folks lived. And secondly, it had crossed my mind that Mr. Rich may be there. A guy who wore expensive watches, rode in limos, and dropped five hundred dollar tips certainly had to be on the guest list. Even though I hated

to admit it, I was curious about him. I wanted to know his name or at least get to know him just a tad bit more.

"We're leaving in ten minutes. My treat. I already arranged for a personal shopper to help us,” Amy said, cutting into my thoughts.

Amy was very good at persuasion, which was why she was taking the LSATs in preparation for law school. I wondered how much more deadly she might get when she actually became a real lawyer.

"But you know I can't afford that with what I earn, even with tips." For a second, I was tempted to tell Amy about Mr. Rich, but she was already doing enough damage to me by coercing me to go to the ball. If she knew about him, she would make me hook up with him after a lesson on how rich men love me and how I would fit in nicely with the elite.

"I told you it was on me. Your food is getting cold." She pointed to the fork that held a piece of pancake that had been making its way to my mouth for over five minutes. “You will go to that ball and you will look fabulous.”

I sighed as I put the pancake in my mouth. Sometimes I truly hated Amy!

NICK Nick stretched and grabbed his phone, which had been lying next to him. He hadn't heard the phone go off while deep in sleep. Some days, he slept so deeply even an earthquake wouldn't wake him up, a by-product of being overworked most days, which is why he played hard when he wasn’t working hard. But being rich required more than just giving instructions to his staff; he

had to be hands-on, which required his time and energy. His phone was beeping with a missed call. He clicked on the missed call and instantly recognized the number. He had started to dial that number several times but had hesitated, knowing a call would blow his cover. If he called her back, it would be hard to pretend he hadn’t met her. Even though he wanted to get her to the ball, he had to be careful so he didn’t lie to her. Besides, there was something to be said about getting a girl to give him her number herself. It was all part of winning at the wooing game. If he called girls without their permission, the game would be lost. And he never lost.

He looked at her number flashing on his phone screen again and fought the urge to dial her digits. He wasn’t going to call her and that was final. He walked over to his dresser and pulled out the file he had on her. Some would call him a stalker, a pervert, but in his world where money ruled, he was simply researching someone he was interested in. He opened the file for the millionth time since receiving it from his private investigator and pulled out a picture of her. Her curvy body made him want to know a little bit more about her. That was how he had felt the first time he’d seen her, and that was how he felt now.

His private investigator had been quick to scope her out and sent him every bit of information under the sun about her. He re-read a couple of the pages on her –excellent SAT scores, class valedictorian in college, finance grad school student– yes, she was intelligent and sexy with a smart mouth. His type of woman. He pulled out his phone again and checked his messages, but she apparently hadn’t left one for him. He knew what she wanted to talk about. She obviously had no idea who he was and being invited to an exclusive ball, to her, must have seemed like an error. He guessed she was probably going to refuse the invitation and would most

likely return the necklace. But he didn't want that. He wanted her to come. And he wanted to make her comfortable, hence his hesitation in sending a dress to wear for the event like he normally would for his female guest. He could pretty much guess her size, but that could freak her out. He had already made the mistake of personalizing the invitation card and the gift box card, which was most likely freaking her out. He couldn't risk a situation where she became so uncomfortable she simply did not show up. He truly wanted to be in her presence again, but within his own controlled environment. It was much easier to make a woman his when he

was in control. He flipped through the pages of the file and another picture of her fell to the floor. He picked it up. It was his favorite. She had been out on a morning run. He could see her curves - her breasts held tightly but spilling from within what he assumed was her sports bra, and her firm ass rounded against the shorts she wore. Her legs caught in the running motion seemed all muscle. She was wearing an arm band and had ear phones on. She seemed oblivious to the world - so innocent and pure. He continued flipping through the file, a little slower than he did the files of the people who worked directly

under him. Damn, she had applied for a job in his company a few years ago, but his staff had been assholes and declined application for employment. If he weren't being subtle, he would have fired the employee who hadn’t given her a chance to be an asset to his company. He flipped through a couple more pages. Nothing in there was new to him; he had perused it a few hundred times. But one thing that unsettled him was that she had spent eight weeks as an intern with his company and he had never set eyes on her. He had been gallivanting around Europe with his girlfriend, Amanda, who had readily left him when she found someone a tad bit richer than him. He looked at his phone again,

debating whether to call her back. He wasn't really sure what to say to her. If he spoke to her, he would be forced to answer questions that could clue her in to who he was. He decided the best thing to do was ignore any calls she made to that number, letting them all go to the voicemail. Giving her the number was already a mistake he regretted, but if he hadn't put a number on the invitation she might not have taken the invitation seriously. He sighed, got up from his bed, and walked to the window. Acres of green, lush land lay in front of him. He wasn’t sure how many acres of land he truly owned. He had simply purchased all the land around where he wanted to build his home and

erected what some would call an expensive house on it. He had a tennis court, a swimming pool, a golf course, but most importantly, acres of forest. He needed the wooded land for those moments when he wanted to be with nature but couldn't get away to his private island. During those times, he normally gave most of his staff the day off, and locked down his property. The beauty of having money is that he could do whatever he pleased, and when he needed privacy, he could have his whole estate to himself, and maybe in Sara’s company, if he played his cards right. Today, though, the peace surrounding him was not as tranquil as usual. To be honest, since he’d met Sara,

he woke up every day with a feeling he couldn't quite put his finger on. This day was no different. In fact, the feeling had been getting worse since he’d sent that invitation to her. He had personally written and mailed it to make sure it didn't get lost. He couldn't even remember the last time he wrote something by hand. Normally, his personal assistant took care of things like that – things like responding to his girlfriends’ emails, or sending gifts, flowers, and cards. He gave his secretary a budget, and she'd pick out the gifts and send them to the women. He trusted her judgment and the women always seemed to like their gifts, so it was a win-win for everyone.

Nick paced his room for a few minutes, fighting the urge to call Sara and confess. On days like this he wanted to lock down his property for utmost privacy, but he couldn't because his younger sister, Zia, who worked with him, would arrive at any moment to go over the final plans for the ball.

SARA I unwillingly followed Amy as she stopped in every dress store in the mall. Three hours into our shopping experience, and I had yet to find something that looked like what I would

wear to an exclusive ball. Or rather, most of what I would want to wear was super expensive, and the cheaper dresses just looked plain cheap after looking at the expensive dresses. Amy was more than eager to whip out her credit card to pay for any dress I wanted since I planned to spend my tip money on rent, but I couldn’t let her spend so much on me. I pretended I didn’t care for the really nice dresses. “Heck, Sara. I didn’t know you were this hard to please!” Amy complained as she sat on a bench in the food court of the mall. “I’m exhausted.” “I haven’t seen anything we can afford…I mean, I like,” I told her as

I sat next to her. “Sara, I know you well. You are never picky about anything. Why now?” she sighed, her exhaustion in her voice. I started to tell her the truth but thought better of it. How could I tell her that I had spent the last few nights dreaming about the billionaire I met at the deli, getting hot and bothered by thoughts of him and what I could do to him if we ever got together? How could I tell her that I was planning a future with a man I didn’t know instead of researching Nick Saunders to find out more about him before showing up at his ball?

“Can you please find a dress you like so we can look for shoes?” Amy begged. “I’m trying. But I want to look really nice,” I whined. “And it has to be at a reasonable price.” “By nice you mean sexy?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe,” I said. “Doesn’t really have to be sexy, but sexy would be nice.” “I knew it! You do want to meet Nick Saunders! You slut.” “Shh…keep your voice down, Amy,” I said as I spied a woman with three kids walking quickly past us.

“People can hear you and it’s not like he’s a nobody.” “Don’t I know it.” “I bet you do,” I smiled at Amy. “So do you want to see his picture?” she volunteered as she pulled out her phone and started surfing the web. “That is not a good idea,” I said. What I wanted to say was that I was terrified to see what he looked like. The likelihood that I would back out of the ball was higher if I saw Nick Saunders. I could imagine him all high and mighty with intimidating eyes. I was

not going to go through with the stupid plan of gatecrashing a party if I saw what he looked like. “You want to be surprised,” Amy said, laughing. “Maybe so. I just don’t want to get to know him like that or I won’t go to this event at all. Besides, his voice is intimidating enough.” “You spoke to Nick Saunders? Did you tell him about the error? Please tell me you didn’t because I’ll kill you if you did.” “I called him.” “What!”

“Relax. I didn’t leave a message. I mean, I called the number on the card. It was his private cell phone, so I froze up. I didn’t know what to say.” “Good thing you didn’t make a fool of yourself! That man dates rich-ass girls. He’s probably used to girls who have gone to etiquette schools or whatever.” I didn’t speak. She was right. He was used to polished girls, and I was nowhere near polished. Then again, she could be wrong. Mr. Rich from the deli didn’t seem to care if I was polished. “The most I know about etiquette was from my Girl Scout experiences. How am I going to pull this

off?” “By being you,” Amy said, then continued scrolling on her phone. “So I’ve been checking out your date online.” “He’s not my date,” I said. “Well, he’s my computer screensaver. He’s that cute.” “Eww…Amy! What is wrong with you? Maybe you should go to this ball.” “Maybe. But I’m not as elegant as you, Sara, and I couldn’t pull it off.” Amy, with all her confidence and assertiveness, had a way of putting herself down that I didn’t really like. But

everyone had their faults and that was hers. “You know that’s not true, Amy,” I said, turning to hug her. “If you went to the ball, you’d knock the pants off Nick Saunders, so yes, maybe you shouldn’t go.” Amy smiled. “He’s really cute. Better than you’d ever imagine. Brown, sexy eyes that can see through you. Strong and powerful, but also very arrogant.” “Sounds like your guy.” I was being sarcastic, but I was still laughing. I had no interest in getting to know him anymore, but my remarks opened up the flood gates for Amy. She began to

recount every detail she read online about Nick Saunders. I heard about his business shrewdness, his playboy hobby, his million girlfriends, his favorite food, his workout regimen, and other countless details she remembered. “He sounds like God sent him as a gift to women,” I said dryly when she finally ran out of breath. “Gosh, Sara. You’re the only girl in the world who could be so lukewarm about dating a billionaire.” “I’m not dating him. The real Sara Nolles is. I’m the fake one, remember?” “Fake or not fake, you’re the

Sara who’s going to be there. Make the best of it.” “Yeah,” I said, unsure. I was tired of talking about Nick Saunders. “Can we please go find me a nice dress and get some lunch? I’m Nicked out.” Thirty minutes later, we found the perfect dress, a red strapless that framed my waist and flattered my curvy hips. Red was a color I would never have thought of wearing, but with Amy’s persuasion, I tried it on and knew it was the one. If I dared to wear the necklace, it would be perfect. I glanced at the dressing mirror as I played with taking my hair up and out of the way. I looked good. Really good. With a nice pair of

shoes and decent makeup, I’d pass for more than the maid. I might actually look elite and all that. A couple more rounds at the stores and we were able to find some silver, sleek but comfortable heels and a matching silver bag.

NICK The doorbell woke Nick up the next morning at seven. Normally, he wouldn’t have been the one opening the door, but given the fact that he had given most of his staff the day off, he had to get out of bed. Besides he knew only one person in the world who would wake

him up that early – Zia. He walked down the stairs slowly, half-dressed, his head clouded with thoughts of Sara. The doorbell persisted and he took the stairs two at a time. “Geez, Zia. What the hell?” he asked as he opened the door to let his sister in. She looked perfectly groomed for that early in the morning – a pink pants suit and heels, and makeup as well. “Good morning, brother,” Zia said, smiling wildly and pushing past him into the foyer. “Did I wake you up?” “What do you think? Why can’t I ever sleep around here?” Nick asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Sleep is overrated. Besides, if you had a permanent woman, you wouldn’t be sleeping now, you’d be fucking her.” “Oh my God, Zia, you’re so filthy. How do men ever date you with that mouth?” Nick asked with a smile. “You’re worse than me, and I know women find me vulgar sometimes.” “You, vulgar? Maybe in bed, but you’re hardly the big bad wolf,” Zia said as she kissed her brother on the cheek and pushed past him. “Get over yourself.” “Zia, you do know I’m a grown man, right? You may be the older one, but that doesn’t give you the right to

barge into my house whenever you want.” “Come on, bro, chill. It’s not like you have a woman upstairs. Or do you?” She looked past him, pretending to look for someone upstairs. “I don’t see anyone, so I guess you’re by yourself again.” “Zia, you do know what privacy means, right? It’s something I deserve and something you have to work on giving me,” Nick said. “Sure, I will. Right after I go over some paperwork with you. Why the soreness anyways?” She dropped her bag on a nearby table and sank into a couch. “Are you going to sit with me or

what?” “Well, can I put on some clothes first? As you can see, I’m halfnaked,” Nick said, rubbing his eyes again and pointing to the fact that he didn’t have a shirt on. “Eww. Please go put on a shirt. I don’t want to see all that,” Zia said. “You should go to the gym more often.” “Are you jealous?” Nick grinned, trying to flex his muscles. “I guess your men don’t look this good.” “You wish. Nick, you’ve got nothing on my men. Pity how those girls you hang out with don’t see you’re not all that. I guess money does talk.”

Nick smirked at her and flexed his muscles again. “You’re simply jealous.” “Whatever. Please put on a shirt and stop acting like your God’s gift to women. I’ll be waiting down here. Make it fast. I have a date waiting for me.” “In your dreams,” Nick said, giggling as he went back to his room to change into some day clothes. A few minutes later, he came down with some sweats and a tee-shirt on. “Much better, bro,” she said. “Now, can we talk some business?” “This early?” Nick said,

frowning. “Can’t it wait until later?” “Why would I be here this morning? Booty call?” “Ewww, Zia. That’s so disgusting,” Nick said, wrinkling his nose. “Exactly. It is disgusting. Can we focus on business? I have a date.” “Sure, if you say so,” Nick teased. “I wonder who the unlucky man is.” “Nick Saunders! You better watch your mouth. I can still whoop your ass, you know,” Zia said as she hit her brother playfully on the chest. “Can we please discuss the preservation and the

ball?” “She said please! The mighty Zia said please,” Nick grinned. “Sure.” “Seriously, Nick. You’re full of it. But luckily for you, I have business on my mind,” Zia said as she pulled some papers from her bag and laid them on the table. The atmosphere turned from jovial to serious as Zia shuffled papers. “I really wish we could maintain the preservation without this ball. It is stressful,” Nick said. “Yes, it can be, but it’s a good way to get everyone who is someone to care about something bigger than themselves,” Zia said.

“Did you reach out to the state again? Maybe they might be interested in acquiring the property?” Nick said. “I’ve already been in touch with everyone that matters, and the general consensus is that if the state gets the land, we might as well say bye bye to that land the way God intended it to be. The state will turn it into a mall.” “Sad,” Nick said. “Well, a mall is not going to work. We might as well keep doing things the way we’ve done them for years.” “That’s the plan,” she said as she pulled binders out of her bag, each binder color-coded. She was incredibly organized when it came to financial

matters. Anything else just fell by the wayside for her. He chuckled as he imagined what kind of life she would have had as a homemaker thousands of years ago. “What’s funny?” she asked. “Nothing,” he said, not wishing to get into an argument with her. She always claimed that if she ever had to make a home, she’d be just fine. “I think we can find ways of reducing expenses next year so we don’t have to depend so heavily on donors,” Zia said after a moment of silence. “I don’t know how much longer our donors will be this generous, especially if they have nothing to gain from it. At a point,

we might need to reconsider our options.” Nick didn’t say a word. He knew what she was referring to. They had discussed letting go of the preservation that had been part of the family for centuries. But Nick would never let that happen, and Zia knew his opinion of it but occasionally still pushed it. The preservation, which was a few thousand acres, was tucked away in the Shenandoah valleys of Virginia. It had been in their family for years, just like Saunders Empire had been a family legacy from his great-grandfather. A few years ago, the man they had trusted with managing the preservation embezzled the money they had entrusted in his care, and

as such, they ran a risk of running down the preservation. This was their third year raising funds by leveraging their contacts and marketing the fundraising as a way to preserve nature for generations to come. The people on his guest list usually had so much money to donate they didn’t even care to know where the preservation was located. Now Sara was on his guest list, and he didn’t want to tell his sister that she might not be getting ten million from her. In that instant, Nick felt bad. He hadn’t thought what inviting Sara meant to the preservation he cared so

much to protect. The dinner was strictly for twenty people who always gave them at least ten million dollars. They didn’t always have the same guest list every year because they didn’t want people feeling bothered about donating, but each of them was responsible for inviting ten guests guaranteed to give a hefty donation. When he had invited Sara, all he cared about was seeing her again and being in her company. He hadn’t given her ability to donate much thought. Sara was going to cost him ten million without knowing it. He didn’t mind paying her donation in secret, but if Zia found out, she’d eat him alive. Nick knew enough not to get on Zia’s bad

side. She would bite his head off, even in public. “Oh, I’m looking through your guest list, and I recognize most of the names, except this one.” Zia pointed to a name on the list. He didn’t have to look to know who she meant, but he wanted to play it safe until she said something. “Who?” “Sara Nolles?” “Yes, Sara. She’ll be a good donor. I met her some time ago. I think she’s someone we want on our side.” Zia looked at Nick in a way that told him she knew he was lying, but she didn’t press it. That was the other

good thing about Zia; she knew when to back down and Nick loved her even more for that. Zia let the topic drop and moved on to the rest of her agenda. After discussing a few more details about the ball –food, flowers, seating, agenda– things that Nick didn’t care much about, Zia announced she was ready to leave. “Well, I’ll see you at the office tomorrow,” Nick said. “Hopefully you’ll be able to concentrate better,” Zia said, winking at him. “What do you mean?” Nick asked. “The fact that I don’t care what

roses we use for decoration doesn’t mean I’m inattentive.” “That has nothing to do with anything, Nick. I know you very well. I dare say maybe there’s a girl on your mind,” Zia said. “Well, maybe you need to mind your business,” he said, smiling at her. “You’re getting defensive. You always get this way when you’re after a girl you can’t have.” “You don’t know what you’re saying.” “You know exactly what I’m saying. Whatever girl you got on your mind is screwing with it. You barely

heard half of what I said now. You need to fuck this girl and get over with it so I can plan this ball.” “Zia!” Zia had already risen and was heading to the door. Nick walked behind her again, letting his little sister take the lead as always.

SARA The rest of the week dragged on, and Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. I went to work every day, hoping Mr. Rich would show up, but he

never did, to my disappointment. Maybe I should have been nicer to him. He truly seemed to be a decent guy, even with his Rolex and limo. In the evening after work, I played dress up, trying on my dress a million times. It was still as perfect as the first time I’d tried it on. My shoes fit perfectly even though they were a tad bit too high and sexy for me. And the diamond necklace looked fabulous with it. Sadly, I knew I couldn’t wear it. It was one thing accepting someone else’s invitation, but I could not accept someone else’s present. I would simply return the box to Mr. Saunders on Saturday and thank him for inviting me to the ball. And if the real Sara Nolles

showed up, I’d slip away. As the week slowly rolled by, my interest in Nick Saunders was piqued, and I picked up little titbits about him from Amy. I didn’t look him up online because I didn’t want to be intimidated. After all, he was only one of the richest and sexiest men on earth. I imagined he only dated skinny, sexy women, something I was proudly not. As the thought of dating crossed my mind, I blushed and admonished myself. We weren’t dating. We weren’t even friends. He didn’t know me. I didn’t know him. This was all just a miscommunication. Finally, Friday night came, and as expected, Amy was ringing my

doorbell as soon as I settled in with my Chinese takeout. “Hi, Amy. The ball is not until tomorrow, you know,” I said as I opened the door before she could use her key. I knew Amy too well. She was probably too excited to wait for Saturday. “Oh, but I want to sleep over so we can talk about all the things you can expect tomorrow.” “Amy, it’s just a ball and I most likely will be kicked out before I even get in.” “Don’t be too sure of that,” she said as she settled in comfortably next to me and picked up one of the paper

takeaway bowls and scooped some of my fried rice into it. “How can you eat this crap?” she said as she took the first bite and almost spit it out. “I love their food,” I said as I chewed on a piece of broccoli. I had ordered chicken and broccoli with fried rice for dinner. “Enjoy,” she said as she went to the kitchen. Minutes later, she appeared with a sandwich. “You know my kitchen better than I do,” I teased. “I had no idea I had the ingredients to make a sandwich.” “You don’t,” Amy said dryly. “This is the most pathetic sandwich I’ve

eaten in a while. No mayo, no ketchup. Do you ever go grocery shopping?” “That’s what you’re here for.” I shrugged my shoulders, picked up the remote control, and started flipping through channels. Amy took it away from me and turned off the television. “We need to talk about tomorrow,” Amy said, and without waiting for my response, she started talking about what she thought tomorrow would be like. I grunted my responses, mostly tuning her out because I was really tired of discussing it. The only reason I wanted to go to the ball was to see if I could speak briefly with Mr. Saunders about a chance to work for his

company. If he met me face-to-face, he would see that I have enough experience to be an excellent addition to his staff. Amy was still talking when I dozed off. When I woke the next morning, Amy was lying next to me, snoring softly. I had no idea how I got to my bed, but Amy must have gotten me into bed after I fell asleep on the couch. I smiled and covered her partially exposed body with the comforter. Saturday was finally here, and I was gatecrashing a party. I quietly got out of bed so I didn't wake Amy. I needed some quiet before her yapping restarted. But I wasn't quiet enough; Amy woke up as soon as I moved from the

bed. "It's Saturday," she yawned. “Finally.” "I know," I said, turning around to smile at her. Yes, it was Saturday and I was going to make a total fool of myself. "Are you excited?" "Sort of," I said. I was kind of excited to be going somewhere. The closest I'd come to a man since breaking up with Jim was Mr. Rich, and that didn’t qualify as an interaction. I’d hardly given him the time and energy. Now I was heading off to see a billionaire who was probably as cocky

as Mr. Rich. At least Nick Saunders sounded more polished and seemed to know how to treat a woman. “Sort of? You should be ecstatic,” Amy said, jumping out of bed. I don’t know where she gets her energy, but Amy could be a fireball sometimes. I didn’t have the energy for her that morning. “I’m going to take a shower,” I announced as I slipped off to the bathroom. By the time I got out of the shower, Amy was cooking breakfast. "You honestly, truly love cooking," I said as I towel-dried my hair. Amy was making miracles with the bare essentials I had.

"Not really, but we can't eat junk food all the time." I smiled at Amy. Years ago, when we were roommates, Amy had always done the cooking while I did the eating. I still loved eating and would throw down a good meal any day, no questions asked. My curves needed to be fed. "Besides, it's fun to cook for someone who actually likes food. Justin's so picky I barely make anything he likes." "Justin is not human," I teased. Amy's longtime boyfriend was the only man I've ever met who ate the bare minimum to survive. To be fair to him,

he had a whole host of food allergies, so the poor thing could hardly eat anything that didn't cause him to break out in hives or just plain get sick. "Hey. Leave my boyfriend alone. At least I have one. All you have is that stuffed bear over there.” I looked at Winky, my stuffed teddy bear, laying on the bed. I didn't see anything wrong with having a stuffed animal that reminded me of home. I may be an adult, but I still missed home occasionally, and Winky was my childhood teddy. "Now you're starting a war," I said as I let my towel fall to the floor and pulled on a pair of sweats and a tee

shirt. Amy glanced briefly at me as I dressed and continued cooking. It was funny how comfortable we were with each other's bodies, so much so that I had no problem undressing and dressing in front of her. "Nick’s in for a treat," Amy said as she glanced at me again. “You look really curvy.” "Curvy? You mean fatter?" I asked, pulling up my tee-shirt in front of the mirror. I loved my curves, but I didn't want anyone calling my fat. Fat meant I was slacking on exercise, which meant being unhealthy. I was curvy, not unhealthy. "Relax, girl, you look curvy

and hot. I wish I had your body," she sighed as she looked at her body. Amy was as lanky as a stick, and even though she ate much more than I could, she didn't gain an ounce of weight. Back in high school, the teachers thought she was bulimic and had made her get a doctor's note to prove otherwise, which I’d always thought was inappropriate. "You look great, Amy," I said. What else could I to say? The poor thing had been on so many fattening diets but nothing worked. Her doctors had explained that her metabolism was simply super-charged. "That's what you always say,"

Amy said, smiling as she brought a plate of food to the coffee table. "I had that in my fridge?" I asked, looking suspiciously at the plate of bacon, sausage, eggs, and waffles. "Not a fat chance. Went to grocery after you slept off yesterday.” "I see," I said as I started digging into the food, piling up my plate and drizzling maple syrup over the waffles. "Someone's hungry," she said, laughing. "Well, I better eat well now because I may be spending the rest of my life in prison for identity theft."

"Okay, you need to drop this impersonation thing. If I took the card and wore the necklace and showed up as Sara Nolles, that's impersonation. If Sara Nolles showed up as Sara Nolles, that's accepting an invitation." "Right, but only if the right Sara Nolles shows up." Amy reached out and grabbed the card, which was lying next to her on the couch. She made an exaggerated effort of looking at the card while she made faces. I couldn't help laughing as I saw her face contour into many shapes as she pretended to carefully examine the card. "All I see here is a card

addressed to Sara Nolles. Sara Nolles is sitting in front of me. Everything matches up. Now, let's talk about how the rest of the day is going to go.” I looked at her and saw a sly smile curving her lips. She was on a mission to get me to the ball, and I had lost the battle. I had to concede. "What is the plan?" I asked, dreading her list of things for me to do before the actual event. "Hair, nails, makeup. I made appointments for you at the spa." "But..." "No buts. It's all on me, Sara. You always take care of me. Please

allow me to enjoy spoiling you.” I nodded, unsure how to respond. "Your food is getting cold," Amy reminded me. I picked up my fork and continued eating my meal. "So, what time is our appointment?" I asked between chewing my food. Before she could answer, my cell phone rang. My first thought was that it was Nick, calling to claim his invitation and pick up his necklace. Or maybe it was his staff, who had just realized their error. Or maybe the real Sara Nolles had appeared at Nick's estate, I'm sure he had one, and was upset about not getting her invitation and gift. "Are you going to get it?" Amy

asked, looking at me and glancing casually at the phone which lay next to me on the table. "I was going to let it go to voicemail," I said weakly. I read the caller id. "Besides, it's a blocked number. It's probably just a telemarketer and I don't want to deal with that right now." "Bull shit, sister! You're scared it might be Nick Saunders," she said, laughing. "I'll answer then." "Heck no," I said, reaching out to keep my phone away from her. But before I could touch the phone, she picked it up. I grunted. This girl was going to be the death of me.

"Hello, Sara Nolles’ phone," Amy said in a professional voice I hadn’t known she possessed. In spite of my fear, I giggled. Whoever was on the other line must think I was this ultrarich, "elite" girl who had a personal assistant to answer her cell phone. Whoever was on the other line said something and Amy looked at me, giving me a thumbs up. I raised my hands, shrugging my shoulder. "Yes, she will be attending," Amy said and winked at me. She sounded so sure of herself I couldn't help but smile. "Yes, this is Amy, her personal assistant. I'll let her know."

I glanced quizzically at her. So it was someone from the Saunders Empire calling me. And she was my personal assistant? She was setting me up for failure. Now Nick would think I was wealthy when I didn’t have more than a few hundred dollars to my name. "She will be ready," Amy replied to whatever the other person said. “Yes, I’ll make sure she knows.” After a few more back and forth talks, Amy hung up. "Gosh, girl. If you don't go to this party, I will." "Why, what did they say?" I acted cool and uninterested, but I was dying to know what the man or woman on the other end had told her. "Was that

Nick?" "So now you want to know? I thought you didn't care about the party or Nick Saunders. And when did he become Nick to you?" She wore that mischievous smile I hated on her face. "Amy, if you don't tell me what that phone call was about, I will throw you out of my house." "You mean your tiny studio apartment? If I leave, I'll be leaving with my food," she said and made a show of packing up the unfinished breakfast. "Amy, come on. I need to know what that was all about." "Okay. Just promise not to

freak out." I nodded. "So Nick Saunders is sending a limo to pick you up at seven this evening." "No, no. He can't do that." "What do you mean he can't do that? That's probably what they do for all their guests attending the ball." "Amy, their guests are the richest folks in this part of the world. I would think they'd all be flying to the ball in their private jets." "You’re funny. Anyway, the man on the phone was some sort of party planner finalizing things. He wanted to know if you wanted the driver to bring some designer dresses and shoes for you

and wanted to know your sizes.” "What?" "I told them not to bother. You may be broke, but I'm not letting some asshole think you need his handout dresses. You have a lovely dress and you'll be wearing that tonight. I picked it out and I know it’s perfect. "So now he's an asshole?" I giggled. "I never said he wasn't."

NICK

Saturday morning arrived rather too quickly for Nick. He had spent all week making final arrangements with Zia for the party. He had worked on coordinating the rest of his plans to get Sara to come to the party even though some of the plans were cancelled - like the dozen roses he had wanted to send her but canceled when he realized that could make her overly cautious. That morning as he gazed at his property from his bedroom window, it looked so different. It had looked like a golf course, and now it looked like a wedding reception site. Between the chairs, tents, flowers, and all the staff wandering around adding the final touches, it looked like someone was

about to get married. But that's how it always seemed with these parties. All the hustling and bustling was worth it, though, to preserve their preservation. He saw Zia, dressed in a short dress, holding a clipboard and shouting instructions to the crew. He smiled. Zia always had things under control. He hated having to dress up and tolerate old men and their catty wives for hours on end. But there was something about today that made him feel differently. Sara Nolles. She had never called to cancel her invitation. She had confirmed that she would ride in the limo sent to pick her up, which was good. She was going to be there.

He tried to remember her as she was in the cafe – beautiful and feisty. Now he was going to be within reach of her in a few hours. She was going to be in his home where he had privacy. Maybe she would let him near her. He had sensed at their first meeting that she was overly cautious, so he knew wooing her was going to be an uphill battle. He took a shower, dressed in white linen pants and shirt and went outside to join Zia. Several of his staff greeted him as he passed them. "Hey, Zia," he called, kissing his sister on both cheeks. "What is this I hear about the limo picking some girl up for the party?"

Nick looked at her, wondering how to handle her. If he blew her off and she discovered Sara at the party, she could cause a scene. "Do you need the limo?" "No, I have my own," she smirked. “You’re evading my question.” "Why are you so concerned with what I'm doing with my limo?" "Because you've never sent the limo to pick up a girl. Is she the one that's got you all flustered? The one I said to fuck and get over?” Nick looked around and noticed some of his staff looking at them. They pretended to be working, but he

knew they were listening. He didn't want rumors spreading about Sara before she even met him as Nick Saunders. And Zia using words like fuck, even though it didn’t bother him, sort of undermined Sara, and he desperately wanted to protect her reputation. "Zia, people are paying attention," Nick said as he pulled her to the side. "She's the one that's got you flustered, isn't she?" "I like her," Nick finally admitted to his sister, his lip curled. “But she’s none of your business.” "You don't sound too pleased.

If you like her, you should look happier," Zia said, looking him up and down. “Besides, any girl that comes into your life is my business. And you should know that.” "I’m not angry. Sometimes you can be so self-absorbed. You think everything is about you." Nick sighed, exasperated. “It’s not all about me?” Zia said, laughing. “I’ve been delusional.” “Z, you’re a piece of work. One day you’re going to really put your foot in your mouth.” "But you’ll be around the corner to save my butt if that were to

ever happen.” "I can't do it forever, you know," Nick said. “Save your butt.” "Whatever. So, who is she? Wait, don't tell me. She's that Sara somebody on our guest list, isn't she?" Nick nodded. There was no point denying what his sister would find out in a couple of hours. What did it matter at that point anyway? Sara was coming and that's all that mattered. "Have I met her?" Zia asked, more relaxed now. "No." "Where did you meet her?"

"It's a long story," Nick said. "Well, lucky for you, I have time to listen to my brother tell me about the love of his life." "It’s not like that. She doesn't even know me, at least not the way you think." Zia looked at Nick. "Okay, Nick Saunders, you better start talking. You’re sending a limo to get some girl you don’t know. Start talking.” "Maybe later." "No, right now," Zia said as she pulled his hand and started walking to one of their private gazebos. “You need to tell me what is going on.”

Nick spent the next hour telling Zia how he met Sara and how he had sent her the diamond necklace. "So she doesn't know the necklace and invitation are from the same guy in the café?” "No." "How do you suppose you'll connect with her today? Walk up to her and lay on the charm?” "That's what I've always done." "And it's worked for those sluts you've dated. This one sounds like a tough nut to crack. Wouldn't be surprised if she were a virgin."

Nick blushed at the thought of a virgin mate. Could Sara really be a virgin? Rob, his private investigator, hadn't mentioned that in his report, which was good. That would have been creepy. Zia looked at him and started laughing. "You know what virgins are, right? I know you've never seen one." Nick playfully smacked her hand. "Are you saying you're a slut?" "Hey there, brother, watch your mouth," Zia said and looked around to make sure no one was looking at them. “Or I’ll take your virgin bride off the list.”

Nick looked at his sister and laughed. "You better not mess with her.” "I take it Ms. Nolles will not be donating ten million at this event." "Highly unlikely,” Nick said. "You will be making a donation for her." It wasn't a question. It was a fact. Nick nodded. "That's coming out of your pocket money, Nick Saunders, not the company’s." "Of course," Nick said. He wouldn’t have it any other way. He had already planned to make a donation on Sara’s behalf, except he hadn’t yet figured out how he could do it without embarrassing her.

"She better be one good piece of ass! Ten-million-dollar ass. And if she’s a skinny bitch, I swear, I'll disown you." Zia left her brother and went back to the party planning. Nick smiled. From what he remembered of Sara, she was far from bony. Nick had always wanted a woman with extra meat, and Sara was curvy all right. He smiled at his sister, who had moved on to throwing out commands at the staff. He almost wanted to tell Zia to take a break and let the party planner they had hired take care of things, but he changed his mind when he saw the young woman who looked like she was straight out of college standing in the corner, shaking and probably wondering why

she had been hired as a planner in the first place.

SARA A few hours later, I felt like a princess. My black hair was pinned up with a couple of loose curls purposefully escaping the sides. My nails had been painted, and Amy was doing my makeup much better than I expected. Initially, she had hired a makeup artist, but I had convinced her to cancel the appointment and make me up herself. Amy was good at it, and since she knew me better than anyone else, I knew she would do an amazing job of making me feel pretty.

"Done," she said as she stepped aside to admire her work. "How do I look?" I asked, smacking my lips and tasting the strawberry-flavored lip liner she had used on my lips. "Don't mess up your lipstick!" I smacked my lips again and made a face at her. "Gosh, sometimes I wonder if you're really an adult." I could see a faint smile on her lips. I got up and walked to my dresser mirror. My eyes popped as I looked at myself. My hair, usually untamable, was sitting perfectly on top of my head, curls cascading down to the side in a controlled but sexy way. My

lips were a deep shade of red, a color I'd never have used on myself. My glasses were gone, and in their place were my neutral contacts, which brought out my hazel eye color. Amy had accentuated my eyes with mascara and eye liner, making them bigger than I remembered. I liked the way I looked. My makeup looked natural, almost invisible, yet it hid the few blemishes on my skin. I twirled around like a little girl admiring myself. “Nice,” I said, hugging my best friend for life. “I told you you’d look great,” she said, smiling at me.

I spun around a couple more times, laughing. Placing my hands on my hips, I smoothed the dress around my waist and over my abdomen. The redness of the dress complemented me. The only problem I had with the dress was that it was too revealing around my neckline. I tried to pull the top up so my boobs were better hidden, but to no avail. The neckline was cut too low. I pulled a couple more times until Amy noticed what I was doing and scowled at me. "A little boob show won’t kill you, girl," she said, smacking my hands away from my dress and pulling the dress down so that whatever little decency I had managed to achieve was

gone. "But I don't want to look like a slut," I whined as I tugged on the dress. "You are already a slut. You know what's going to happen tonight, right?" "What do you mean?" I asked. “Did you really expect the billionaire boy to let you go home untouched? Don't you think he might want something out of all this?" I stared at Amy, my eyes widening as her words played in my head. I hadn’t even considered that Nick Saunders wanted anything from me. He didn't know me, and the invitation was

just by error. But what if he was expecting some sort of reward from the real Sara that I couldn't give? I gasped at the realization that I hadn't thought the whole thing through, very much unlike me. "You’re scaring me, Amy," I blurted out. If she hadn't insisted I go to the party, none of this would have come up. "Relax, Sara. He probably won't notice you. With the number of rich women throwing themselves at him at their stupid ball, I doubt he's going to do more than say hello to you.” "You confuse me! Just make up your mind what he’ll do to me! But I

hope you're right," I said to Amy as I slipped my feet into my heels. "I am always right. The only person you'll have to watch out for will be his twin sister." "He has a twin?" "Didn't you read any of those articles I sent you on him?" Amy had sent me an email a few days ago with a bunch of articles on Nick. I had glanced at them but hadn’t really read them. "Well, I started to..." "You didn't read them, did you? You should have read them so you have an idea what you are getting into.”

"It's too late now. So what's up with his sister?" I asked. Just as she started to explain, the doorbell rang. She walked over to the window and looked out. "Your ride awaits, royal slut," she joked as she handed me my clutch and practically marched me out of my house. “So what’s up with the sister?” “Oh, nothing much, except she is overprotective of Nick. I hear she vets every girl that comes around him. But I’m sure you’ll be okay.” I wanted to ask more questions, but she wouldn't give me answers. Damn, I should have taken more interest

in the email she had sent me. I guess I could research his sister on my phone as we drove. It was probably a good idea knowing what I was getting into before I got there. Or maybe I would just deal with things as they happened. The driver of the limo stepped out of the car as I approached him and promptly opened the door. I smiled at him while trying to control my excitement. I had to pretend like riding in a limo was no big deal. The limo was impressive. Black on the outside and dark brown on the inside.

"Hello, David," I said, remembering him from the last time he

delivered the card to me. “Good to see you again.” "Good evening, Ms. Nolles. The pleasure is all mine,” he said as he held the door for me. I got into the car and he was back in the driver seat. "Ms. Nolles, can I offer you anything to drink? Water, wine, or juice?" "No, thank you," I said, chuckling. It felt weird to be addressed so formally. As the car pulled out of the neighborhood, navigating through the narrow roads and potholes, I felt like I was in a different world.

NICK Nick knew his guests would be arriving soon, but he was too wound up to stay put. Instead, he decided to go for a walk on his property. He would be back before the first guests arrived. Taking walks on his land was one of the things he enjoyed most about having money, and he hoped to share some of his pastimes with Sara, once she got to know him. He put on some shorts and a tee and stepped out of the house and away from where the party was going to happen. As he breathed in the cool, fresh air, he felt himself begin to relax. The expanse of greenery had a way of

helping him relax. The first time he had seen the land before he bought it, it had reminded him so much of what nature was meant to be - lush trees, hidden water paths, rocks, dandelions and all the other stupid little things that made him feel alive. He had instantly fallen in love with the land and quickly bought it and constructed his house without messing up the natural landscape. During the construction, he had built a secret retreat in the middle of it all, and now, as he walked away from the noise and music, his feet took the sure path he knew so well. He relaxed and let his senses direct him. Once he was far from prying eyes, he sat on a huge stone. He had been so stressed with

thoughts of Sara. Granted, he had just met her, but she was already taking over his life, pushing him past his comfort zone. Lately, he had begun to question himself, making little stupid errors he knew better than to make. He had to be careful because Zia was already on him, noticing the little things he did wrong. It was weird how a girl he just met could make him lose control so quickly. He got up and kept walking. As he strolled past a winding stream, he took off his shoes and waded into the water. It was beautiful and warm in the afternoon sun, just like he remembered Sara's face. He tried to

imagine how she’d look at the party but couldn’t imagine her in anything other than the waitress outfit she made look so sexy. The thought of her body clad in that outfit aroused him. He needed to strip a couple of layers of clothes to cool off. He looked around to make sure no one was following him and took off his shirt; he wasn’t expecting anyone since no one came to that part of his property except him and his family. The staff never asked questions; they just knew not to venture to this part of the estate. If anyone ever wondered what they did in those forests, no one ever asked. The beauty of being a billionaire is that you can buy privacy, as well as get a girl you really like to

come to a party without speaking to her. He chuckled at the anticipation of seeing Sara's face again, staring into her eyes like he had the last time he had seen her, touching her, even if it was just a hug, and smelling her essence if she would let him. He sounded like a creepy stalker, and that was not what he wanted to project. He had to be careful he didn’t come across as an asshole or a weirdo. The sun was blazing and he got even hotter. He decided to go for a swim to cool off. "Fuck it," he said aloud as he stripped to the skin and plunged into the pool. Once he hit the water, his animalistic instincts took over, and he started making powerful strides, swimming uphill against the current. The

faster he swam, the more his body begged for more. It was as if the physical exhaustion was what he needed to get control of his thoughts of Sara. While he was under the water, he heard someone calling his name from a distance. Zia was on the other side of the river where he had left his clothes. She had probably guessed he was off swimming to release tension. This was the first time he had done this right before an event with so little time to spare. He surfaced and looked up in the clouds. He had gotten so carried away being in nature that he had totally lost track of time. He should have been

dressed and awaiting the guests rather than naked and swimming in a stream, totally unaware of the rest of civilization. "Coming, Zia!" he called to her from the distance. "You're going to make us late!" she called back to him. "You know what time it is?” Nick didn't have to get close to her to know she was seething mad at him. Her voice told him all he needed to know. "I'll be there in a few!" Nick called back. "Five minutes, brother! And put some damn clothes on."

Nick heard her footsteps retreat to the house. He swam back to his clothes and was dressed and on his way back to the house quickly. The guests hadn't started arriving when he emerged, but his staff were ready to start the party. He disappeared into his room and took a quick shower. He had picked out a sensible dinner suit for the evening - a white suit tailored for him, but on second thought, he went for a dark suit. He had a sense that Sara would find him more appealing in a darker color. As he dressed, he cursed himself. When did everything he do start depending on Sara's opinion? He hadn't

even kissed her, for crying out loud, and he was rearranging his life for her. Looking out his window as he dressed, he watched the cars pull up the long driveway and let the guests out. The first person to arrive was Mr. Harris, a man in his fifties, with his fourth or fifth wife. He had lost count. Nick watched them alight from the limo after it parked in his expansive driveway – the man, clad in an expensive, custommade suit, alligator shoes, and a pinstripe white shirt; his wife was dressed in a long, black, tight dress that was probably from a limited collection of some overpriced designer line, her shoes at least five inches high, and her

hair, blonde, cropped, and silky. They came every year, or rather, he came every year with a different wife, Nick thought, a smile on his face. He didn't care so much about his wives because he contributed to his cause. To Nick’s amusement, Mr. Harris hurried out of the car when the chauffeur opened the door like he couldn’t wait to get away from his spouse, who was right beside him, speaking to him. Nick saw her touch his hand gently and quickly kiss him on the lips. He didn’t let the kiss linger; he slyly pulled away from her. Nick could tell what sort of relationship they had. Another divorce was on the way. The second limo pulled up to let out his second set of guests, a couple

who were close friends of Zia. Nick sighed. He knew that two limos were his cue to come downstairs and greet the guests. Their selection of guests were not really his close friends, but people they knew were mega rich. It was great to have all those people coming to his event, but he was interested in just one car, his limo, and David, the chauffeur, was running late.

SARA Even though I had earlier decided against drinking, now that I was really going to the party, I began to freak

out. I looked in the mirror on the limo; I looked decent. I could see the diamond necklace. I had forgotten to take it off. I had let Amy persuade me to wear it, but I wouldn't keep it. I'd take it off as soon as the limo left, and I was far away from Amy. I reached behind my neck to unclasp it. The limo driver looked at me through the mirror and smiled. "You should keep it on. It suits you." "Thank you," I smiled. "But it's really not mine." "Well, it suits you very well. Better than anyone else.” I wasn’t sure what to say, but I

murmured thank you though I was quietly steaming inside. Did David really mean that Nick Saunders gave this same necklace to a million other women? It was insulting that he would send me a necklace his ex-girlfriends have worn. Suddenly, the necklace seemed to have caught fire on my neck, and I tried to yank it off, not caring about being careful. The diamond necklace that had graced my neck now seemed like a whore’s accessory. How dare he think he can do that to me? I calmed down as I realized that he hadn’t done anything to me; rather, he had sent that to the real Sara Nolles. So what was she? His sextoy?

I looked at the driver, debating whether to ask him what he meant, but he had turned his focus back to the road. He probably wouldn't discuss his boss's escapades, and it wouldn’t be right for me to push him. For a moment, I toyed with asking the driver to take me back home and giving the stupid necklace to him, but if I did go home, Amy was waiting for me. Suddenly I was mad. Did these women even know that he was using them? Or did he just think that because he could buy anything in the world, he had a right to buy women? My anger changed to disbelief, then anger again. How dare he think I was a whore? Or was the real Sara Nolles really a

whore? "Ma'am, if you'd like some water...” the driver began, but I was already pulling out a bottle of very expensive wine. "Thanks," I said, tight-lipped. I opened the bottle and poured myself a glass, careful not to spill it on myself. I was not a wine person and didn't drink liquor or alcohol, but I felt like I needed that glass. Maybe even two glasses. The first glass to calm my fraying nerves and convince myself that attending this party was okay. And the second glass to calm my anger at Nick Saunders for peddling a necklace among all his girlfriends like they were nothing.

I wondered how many girls had worn the necklace before me. I took the necklace off and placed it in the inner pocket of my purse where I knew it would be safe until I handed it to Nick Saunders. It was the right thing to do. Maybe he could peddle it to the next girl that let him sleep with her. "Ma'am, we'll be pulling up shortly," the driver's voice cut into my thoughts. I hadn't been paying attention, but I now looked out the window. Even though it was dark, I could see the house, or rather, the mansion that loomed in front of us. "Holy shit," I swore under my

breath as we pulled up to the gates and security let us in. The massive house in front of me was like no other.

NICK From the corner of the foyer, Nick watched as his limo pulled up to the house and the woman he had eagerly been waiting for stepped out of the car. For one second, he didn’t recognize her – gone were the rough edges he had seen at the café, replaced by a softness he hadn’t noticed. She had filled out some more and was curvier than he remembered. His pants tightened as he

resisted the urge to run to her and sweep her into his arms. That was sure to make her leave the party. He’d be lucky if she stayed after discovering he was the guy from the café. If she chose not to stay, he wouldn’t blame her. He tried to focus his mind on other things, but he could not stop gaping at her. She was stunning, a word he had never used to describe another woman. She wore a daring red dress, something he would never have imagined her wearing. Her red lips were eyecatching, her curves he could see from the distance, and her hair accentuated her dress. She was beyond beautiful, and even though in his wildest dreams of her he had imagined her in a black dress, or

earthy, neutral colors, he loved how the red dress made her eyes shine. If only she had worn the necklace he’d sent her… it would have signified her guard was down. He saw one of his hostesses approach and greet her, then guide her toward the tent. He knew he should be out there to welcome her, and in any other circumstance, he would have had no problem walking up to the woman and making easy conversation, but for some reason, this woman stumped him. When had he become this shy man afraid to talk to a woman? He watched her walk, swinging her hips and smiling and

talking to the hostess. After a few seconds of observing her, he was ready to make his debut. It was reckoning time.

SARA I walked with the hostess, who guided me toward the tent where the event was taking place - an outdoor set up that looked like a five-star hotel. "Beautiful," I said to the hostess, whose name was Diane. Simply breathtaking, I thought but didn't say it aloud since I didn’t want to sound too eager and stick out like a sore thumb. I had to remember that even though I had

never seen such opulence in my life, I had to act like I was born and bred with a silver spoon in my mouth so I didn't look ridiculous, at least not until I was kicked out of the party, which was sure to happen. "You haven't been to this event before," she stated rather than asked. "No, I haven’t," I admitted. There was no use lying. Based on her greetings to her co-workers and how she had so expertly received me, Diane had probably worked there for years and most likely knew all the guests’ names. "Usually Mr. Saunders receives his first time guests personally. He likes to show them around. Perhaps

he will show you the grounds later," she said with a curt smile. "Perhaps," I replied, smiling. Perhaps not. I’m not sure I wanted to be that close to a man who was so filthy. Then again, how was I any different from the other guests? I had accepted an invitation to a party that I should not have come to. If anyone was filthy, maybe it was me. In a way, I was glad he had not come to receive me because he would have seen right through me. I hoped when I began mingling with other guests, he would not notice me. Except there was one major problem. I still had his necklace and needed to return it to him. Damn. I felt

my bag to reaffirm the necklace was still there. It was. As I stepped into the tent, I couldn't believe that I was even in a tent. Mr. Saunders had transported the best ballroom from one of those expensive hotels and imported it into the tent. It was magnificent. Granted I was easy to please, but the place was professionally decorated with flowers, crystals, and the best of what money could buy. "Nice, isn't it, ma’am?" Diane said, smiling. “Quite breathtaking when you first see it. You know, the first time I saw the set up my first time working for the Saunders, I wondered if I had died and gone to Heaven.”

"It is elegant," I said, trying to control my excitement. Perhaps if I acted like being in a five-star hotel-tent or whatever was the norm for me, I could blend in easily. "Can I get you something to drink, ma'am?" she asked, motioning to a server with a tray of wine glasses. "Sure," I replied with a smile. "What would you like? We have..." "Just water, thank you," I said, cutting her off gently. My head was already spinning from the wine in the limo, and the last thing I wanted to do was to make a fool of myself at this

event. "Sure," she said. She pulled one of the glasses off the tray and handed it to me. I stifled a smile, thinking that I could have easily grabbed the glass of water myself. She made me think of those rich folks who needed someone to brush their hair and teeth for them. Usually, I was the one grabbing water off the tray for folks, not the other way around. "Thanks, Diane.” "My pleasure, ma'am. Is there anything I can do for you?" "No, thank you so much," I

replied. Diane nodded and started walking towards another guest. That was what I should probably do, walk towards another guest and introduce myself. Then it hit me. The people around me ran multibillion-dollar companies. They owned the kinds of cafes I worked in. What the heck was I supposed to talk about? My job as a waitress? I felt cold sweat breaking out along my spine. I thought about what sort of job I was supposed to have. I wasn't sure if my side photography gig counted as a billion-dollar business. I was screwed and I knew it. I looked around. Several ladies who looked like they had just stepped out of a fashion magazine mingled with

their partners. I moved closer and closer to the corner of the room until I was almost invisible. The women had wine glasses in one hand –no doubt sipping on the most expensive drinks in the world– and flirted with the men surrounding them. Maybe it was time to leave. Who was I kidding? I didn't belong here with these women who looked so expensive. I knew their clothes, shoes, jewelries were priceless. Maybe I should have worn the necklace. Maybe that would have helped me fit in. The men were dressed in suits obviously custom-tailored for them. I watched how they held the women's

delicate waists and whispered to them. If nothing else, my curves made me stand out. The red dress drew attention, and I started to regret wearing such a bright color when everyone else was dressed in black. I mentally cursed Amy for making me wear the dress when I could have worn a simple black dress. An elderly woman walked toward me. I straightened and moved a little bit out of the shadows. Even though I didn't want to be seen, I didn't want to look like I was hiding either. "Hi," the woman said as she approached me. I was too shocked to reply. I instantly recognized her: Madison Saunders, billionaire heiress

and television personality. “How are you this evening?” "I'm okay. Thanks," I replied quietly. She waved a loose strand of graying curly hair off her face and sipped from the glass she was holding. "Dear, I noticed you were by yourself and I felt you needed a friend." I wasn't sure how to respond, but I didn't have to; she continued talking. "What's your name?" "Sara. Sara Nolles." "Hi, Sara. I'm Madison

Saunders. Nice to meet you." She extended her hand for a handshake. I took her hand, shaking it, a billion questions running through my mind. It never occurred to me that Madison Saunders, who I loved watching on TV, was related to Nick Saunders. "So honored, Ms. Saunders. I love your show." She smiled. "Thank you so much. If only they would stop introducing new technology. It makes me crazy. It's hard to keep up with that stuff, you know?" "I can imagine," I said. A moment of warm silence passed between us.

"These affairs can be intimidating, right? I remember my first ball. My parents had prepared me for it, but I was still shocked." "Yes," I said, glad to have company, any company. I relaxed. "But this is for a good cause. Nick and Zia raise money every year to preserve the forest. Someone has to save our lands or they'll all be turned into skyscrapers and malls. We don’t want that.” "No, we don't want that," I agreed, laughing. "So why do you support the preservation project? You're a nature

lover as well?" The question caught me off guard and she noticed. "You don't know what tonight is about, do you?" I shook my head, very much ashamed that I had come to an event without doing my homework. I had thought this was just a party. I never realized it was an actual event. "Not really," I said in a low tone. "The short version is that Nick does a good job of extracting money from his rich friends to preserve a large forest for natural preservation." "That's a great cause," I said. I would never have thought that someone who seemed so chauvinistic, and a selfconfessed playboy, would have interest

in doing anything selfless. "It is. He used to bear the entire cost himself, but over the last three years, he started this extravagant fundraiser to help mitigate the rising costs of keeping the land safe from the government’s land development craze.” Oh great! I was attending a fundraiser and had no money to my name. "So the fundraiser is really a silent auction with large items for public bid at the end of the night,” Ms. Saunders explained. I maintained my smile despite the anxiety in my head. "That must be

exciting." "It is fun to see how much people are willing to donate when they know they'll be publically acknowledged.” "I’m sure," I said, my mind thinking of my purse with less than twenty dollars in it. "Come on. We don't want to stand all night talking to ourselves. Let's introduce you to some guests." "Okay," I said. She must have heard the hesitation in my voice. She started laughing and sipping her drink. "You need a drink to relax. Why do you think

I'm on my third glass of whatever this wine is?" "Why?" I asked, smiling. I liked Ms. Saunders and wondered about her relationship to Nick, but I didn't want to sound nosy. Besides, I didn't want to explain how I knew Nick. Or rather, how I didn't know Nick. "To relax, of course. I drink to relax. Are you here by yourself?"" "Yes," I said, then wished I had said I was waiting for someone. But who? Maybe waiting for someone that doesn't show up is better than waiting for no one. "Then you should be aware of

Nick Saunders. If he knew you were here by yourself..." "Grandma.” A deep, intensely familiar, sexy voice spoke to Ms. Saunders. “Why are you scaring the lady?" I knew it was him without even turning around. The guy from the café. Nothing had prepared me for this moment, but I didn’t have much choice but to turn around and say hello to him. One part of me was annoyed that he had tricked me into coming after my objections at the café, and the other part of me was happy to see him again. And then a third, more reasonable part of me imagined this was a mistake and him

being at the café and me getting an invitation was a horrible twist of faith. He had meant to invite another Sara and I had showed up to his event. "Who is this lovely lady you're talking to, Grandma?” I turned around, fully expecting him to look shocked when he saw my face, but he simply smiled at me, his brown eyes daring and bold. He was exactly how I remembered him. Devilishly handsome. I let his brown eyes gaze back at me, looking deep into my eyes, and I thought I'd melt. "Oh, she's your guest, isn't she? You can't tell me you don't know the lovely Sara Nolles," his grandmother

said. I forced myself to keep smiling as I imagined his smile fading any second once he heard “Sara Nolles.” But his smile did not wane. Instead, he reached out and took my hand. When his skin touched mine, I almost withdrew my hand because it felt like he had scorched me. He looked so rugged even in his suit, I had imagined his hands would be rough, but they were rather delicate. I had to remind myself that he was ultrarich and could afford as many manicures as he wanted. But I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me with his money. I held his gaze and shook his hand, waiting for the instant he would call me out as fake and pull me to the side.

"Nice to finally meet you properly, Sara," he said. “The café was just too stifling.” I was seething with anger, but I did my best to control it out of respect for Ms. Saunders. Did he really think he could push me around just because he had money? I had made it clear I didn’t want to date him, but he had pushed. I had to admire his tenacity, though, but not at that moment. His grandma looked at him and smiled. She turned to me like I was her long lost friend and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "See you around, Sara. Be careful of this one," she said as she walked away.

When she left, he turned to me and smiled. “I’m sorry I had to do it this way. You were blowing me off, and I wanted to make a good first impression, a second time.” “We’ve already met. How can you make a new impression?” I was still mad, but I was beginning to soften. He was certainly persistent. Even though I had no plans of getting into his bed, he was trying so hard that I had to like him just a bit for his persistence. “Well, I was hoping you would let me try again.” “I’m afraid that might be too late. Your grandmother already warned me,” I teased, trying not to smile.

“Yes, my grandmother,” he smiled lovingly at her. “She likes you.” "She’s lovely," I said. "She can be pushy sometimes." He bent over and whispered in my ear, "The old lady certainly scared me when I was growing up." I chuckled at the thought of the kind old woman being hard on him. “You must have deserved it.” “Maybe so. I was a rascal,” he said. “I guess she wanted to see me grow up right.” I smiled at him. Maybe he wasn’t too bad after all.

"You're not drinking?" he asked as he signaled to a waiter. "Everyone in your family wants to get me drunk," I told him with a smile. "And really, you've not formally introduced yourself." I knew who he was, but I wanted him to confirm. I needed him to tell me he was Nick Saunders, the man whose diamond necklace lay in my purse. "My poor manners. Maybe Grandma didn’t do a good enough job of making me a gentleman. I’m Nick Saunders," he said, reaching out his hand again. "Sara Nolles. But you already knew that."

"Yes, I did a little homework. Did you?” I didn’t want to tell him I had not researched him. It hadn’t been important when he was just Nick Saunders, but now that he was Mr. Rich from the café, I had to give him a second thought. “Not much. All I know is you own a Rolex and a limo and like your coffee strong.” "I take it you want to know more about me, then?” he asked, his gaze making me catch my breath. "Possibly, Mr. Saunders,” I replied. I did want to know more about him, but I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

“Please call me Nick,” he said with a smile that was sexy as heck. “Okay, Nick,” I hesitated. It was weird to address a man so rich and powerful by his first name. “Before you go any further, I have to tell you something," I said, my voice low. "Sure, Sara. May I call you Sara? You look so beautiful tonight. Do you know that?” he said. "Yes, of course," I said. Hoping he hadn’t misunderstood, I corrected myself when I saw a grin spread on his face. "I mean, yes you may call me Sara. Not yes that I know I’m beautiful. You know… I mean...”

"You are beautiful and it's okay to admit that." He lowered his voice and drew closer to me. “You are the most beautiful girl here.” "Thanks." I was too shy to dispute his comments. "So, Sara it is then." I nodded, not trusting myself to say another word. I had to stop acting like a teenager around him. “About the necklace you sent me,” I started but was cut off when a female voice called to him from afar. He turned his attention toward her. While he responded, I allowed my eyes to travel over him. He was dressed in a suit that had been crafted on him. His eyes, a deep shade

of warm brown, were thoughtful and sexy. His mouth had a curve that deepened the few times he had smiled at me. I stole a glance at his upper torso and could tell he had great definition behind that suit, like someone who spent a good portion of his days working out. "Oh no," he mumbled as he recognized the woman calling to him. "What?" I asked as I turned to look at a skinny, dark-haired woman approaching us. She was hot. Damn, she was sexy. As she walked towards us, I felt like I was in some kind of wellrehearsed fashion show and one of the models was approaching me with wellpracticed cat steps. She wore a shiny,

short dress that fitted her like a glove and left nothing to the imagination, heels so high I wondered how she didn’t fall on her face as she walked towards us, and her lips were a bright red. Her curls bounced and fell back into place with every step. She was perfect, the kind of woman I had always wanted to be, and for an instant, I was jealous of whomever she was and whatever she was to him. "Hi, Olivia," he called to her. The way she looked at him told me without any doubts that the two of them had something naughty going on. Her face looked familiar, but I didn't feel like trying to figure out how I knew her.

It didn’t matter anyways. I imagined that all the women at the party were A-list celebrities. I had probably seen every one of them on TV or in a magazine at some point in my life. "Kiss me," Nick said to me, turning around to face me, his back to the fancy Olivia. “Now.” "What?" I asked, sure he wasn’t talking to me. "Kiss me now." His voice had lowered and his eyes pierced mine. I could not resist even if I wanted to. "Nick!" The woman was at our heels. “Baby!” Nick didn't wait for my

response. I felt his hands on my waist, holding me like he owned me. He crushed me against him and put his lips on mine. The world stood still. Cliché, I know, but there was no other way to describe what I felt. I didn't kiss him back; I was still in shock. He broke the kiss as quickly as he had started it. "Nick?" Olivia was standing right behind him, her voice low and angry. I dared to look at her since I could feel daggers stabbing at me. This was not going to be good. "Hi, Olivia," he said as he gave her a quick hug, ignoring the lips she had pouted out for him. They did

indeed have something going on. Or rather, something went on between them that was no longer there. I knew what had happened. He had used me as bait to pay back the woman, whomever she was. An old girlfriend maybe? The kiss was just to spite her and maybe get back at her for something she had done to him. In that instant, I felt so mad at him. How dare he use me like I was a common whore? Yes, I may have crashed his party, but that didn’t give him the right to abuse my mouth. Pleasurable, yes. But that was beside the point. The kiss had been rough and unwanted; well maybe not, but it wasn't my idea of how to kiss a man.

"Excuse me," I said to the two of them as I almost pushed Nick aside to get away. “Who was that?" I heard the woman ask, but I didn’t hear Nick's response. I quickly rushed out of the tent. Tears were streaming down my face until I had walked for a bit. I heard a voice behind me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. "Sara, please stop." Nick was following me but I wasn’t stopping. "Sara, can you please stop? You have something that belongs to me." That stopped me. He knew what he said would make me stop. Men like him, billionaires like him, knew

how to get what they wanted. "Yes," I said, turning around and wiping my eyes. I reached into my bag to pull the necklace out. The moonlight reflected on its diamonds. I held it out to him, but he didn’t take it. I lowered my arm. "That too, but that's not what I meant," he said. "What did you mean?" I asked. "May I be honest?” he said. “Be my guest,” I said. “I just wanted you to stop and listen to me." “I’m listening. Speak,” I said,

surprised by my courage. Hours ago, I hadn’t even dared to look at his picture because I was concerned I wouldn’t be able to face him. Now I was giving him orders in his own house. "I am so sorry about what happened back there.” "What are you sorry about? That you kissed a total stranger? With your reputation, that must have been easy to do.” "Okay, that hurt, Sara. But I deserved it." "Mr. Saunders, I am not here to figure out what you deserve." "Sara, a man in my position

hardly apologies for anything. You should know that.” Except I didn’t know that and I didn’t care. Even if I did, Nick Saunders had no right to kiss me without my permission, especially if he was doing it to ward off an old girlfriend. "A man in your position thinks he has a right to kiss a woman without permission?" "To be fair, I did ask your permission first." "No, you demanded I kiss you and when I asked why, you forced yourself on me." "I didn’t force myself on you. You kissed me back."

"Only because you were kissing me and making a show of it for that woman.” "Olivia." "Whoever." "Sara, that was wrong. I'm sorry I kissed you like that, but that kiss wasn’t for Olivia's sake. Trust me.” "So why did you kiss me?” I asked against my better judgement. "I wanted to. For my own sake," he said simply, his voice neither loud nor low, just firm. "Yours! So you exploit women's mouths for your own benefit.”

"I didn't exploit your mouth. I simply kissed you because..." "Because you think you can buy everything. You think you send me an invitation and a diamond necklace and I'll let you kiss me.” "I was hoping for that, actually," he smirked. I saw the smile curve his face before being replaced by fake seriousness. "You what? First of all, you don’t know me.” "But I want to know you,” he said. "Tricking me into coming to your party is not a good way to meet me.

You know what, I am so sorry I came to this ball or whatever it is. I'm sorry I even came up here." "Don't say that." "It's true. I came up here to return this necklace to you. I thought your office sent me an invitation by mistake since I’m neither elite nor rich. I barely have more than ten dollars to my name. And if I have half the sense I need, I would not have let my best friend talk me into coming here.” "She's a true friend," he said. "Mr. Saunders, I need to go," I said. I held the necklace out to him again.

"Sara, please keep it." "It's not even for me. God knows how many women have worn this. I’m not like that. You can’t just pick a woman’s name off your to-do list and send them necklaces, even if you think you can buy the whole world.” My voice was loud, my anger was seeping through. I needed to get out of there. I watched his eyes change from the sexy brown to smoky brown. I was treading on dangerous ground. Whatever I had just said had taken him over the edge. I needed to stop and think. I was still holding the necklace, but he ignored me and started walking back to his party. "I'll make arrangements to have

someone take you home. I apologize for ruining your night." His tone was flat and icy. Maybe I should have relaxed and let him explain why he had kissed me. Maybe if I had been calm, I could have talked to him about interviewing with his office for a job. I still needed a job, and now that Amy had spent so much of her money getting me ready for this party, she didn’t have much more to spare if I needed an extra dollar or two. Rent was due in a week, and I didn’t have enough money to cover it. My bills were not going away just because I attended a ball. I wanted to run after him, beg

him to talk to me and explain, but I had to maintain my self-pride. Why should I apologize to him when he had simply used me for his own benefit, and had even admitted to it? This was not how I imagined our first official meeting would go. I had thought he was going to be mad at me for impersonating the real Sara Nolles and would kick me out of his home or have security arrest me or whatever. Instead, I was mad and had the power. I wished things had been different, but it was too late. I stepped on his toes so hard that it was a possibility I would never see him again. And for some reason, I really wanted to see him again.

"Ms. Nolles, the ride you requested is ready," Diane spoke softly behind me. I had been so engrossed in my own thoughts I didn’t know she had approached me until she was ushering me toward the parking lot where a different limo was waiting for me. "Thank you, Diane," I said as I walked toward the limo, desperately fighting back my tears, but I didn’t succeed. As soon as I got into the limo, the tears began to flow freely. I searched for a tissue in my bag and realized I still had the necklace with me. "Excuse me, sir? Is it okay if I give you something to return to Mr.

Saunders?" I asked the driver through the partition. "I have to check with Mr. Saunders first, ma'am. He has a strict policy on issues like this." Issues like what? What was so strict about his driver picking up his necklace and returning to him? I looked up and saw the driver looking at me. He wasn't referring to the actual returning of the necklace being an issue, but the interference between Nick and his women. Did he think I was Nick's girlfriend? Mistress? Whore? Did Nick train him to stay out of his affairs? "It's not like that," I started to explain. But I didn’t really know what to

say. "Never mind." "Sorry I can’t help you, miss." He sounded truly apologetic. Poor guy. How many women did he have to chauffeur around for his boss? I sat back in the soft leather chair and closed my eyes. A nice headache was brewing. I needed to get home and face another headache - Amy. I couldn’t lie to her. She knew the party was supposed to last all night, and unless something drastic happened and I was booted out, I wasn’t supposed to be home this early. "Excuse me?” I said, catching the driver’s attention in the mirror, “is it possible to take the longer way? I don't

want to go home just yet." "Sure, miss. My pleasure," he grinned. "Thank you," I replied, settling back into the chair and letting the headache wash over me. Maybe I deserved to be punished for all the wrongs I'd committed that night. Tears streamed down my face again and I felt my dress getting wet. I looked down, and to my dismay, the tears were dark - my mascara was running. Great. I ruined my night. Ruined my chance of every working for the Saunders Empire. Ruined my chance of giving back the necklace with dignity. And ruined the best dress I’d ever owned. Not to

mention Amy would skin me alive when I told her why I was home early. The night couldn’t get any worse!

NICK

Nick watched her as she departed in his limo. He wondered how the meeting had gone from good to bad in such a short span of time. Nick thought about how her lips had called to him and how her deep, thoughtful eyes had pulled him into her. Yes, the timing had been bad. Olivia Newton, his ex-girlfriend, had wanted to say hello. But his need for Sara had overtaken his common sense. He had really wanted to kiss her. Not because Olivia was there, but because he had wanted to. He had kissed her and everything went downhill from there. Nick wanted to get as far away from the party as he could. He started walking back to the woods, away from all the lights and music, hoping to forget,

even if for a few minutes, that he was supposed to be a host. Zia was there, and whenever Zia was around, everything went well. No one would miss him. His thoughts shifted to Sara the further away he got from the party. She had been getting under his skin, messing with his mind, since he’d met her at the café. And today she was even more beautiful than ever. It was impossible to let her go even if he wanted to. Until he possessed her and enjoyed her succulent curves, he would never get her out of his mind. He wandered further away from the house, his mind playing over the events of that night. He needed to find a way to see her again, and hopefully, talk

her into at least accompanying him for dinner. Apparently, the surprise invitation and diamond necklace had not worked. He had to work harder. Damn her! He sat on a rock, loosened his tie, and started playing with rocks. He was engrossed in his thoughts, oblivious of his surroundings, when he heard Zia asking his staff his whereabouts. “Shit,” he cursed as he looked at the time. He had forgotten himself and let more time than he had intended slip away from him. He heard Zia curse and tell the staff to locate him as the silent auction was about to start. He couldn’t see her face, but he could imagine she

was mad at him, or maybe concerned by his disappearance. He wasn’t one to do that in the middle of an event. Zia would be on his neck as soon as the last guests left. Nick didn’t want to go back to the party. Given the choice, he would have simply undressed and gone swimming naked under the moonlight. Swimming calmed him, and after his heated incident with Sara, he needed a little more than calming. But not tonight. He couldn’t swim naked with guests wandering around. He sighed and turned to head back to his house. As he got closer, he heard Zia calling out his name. He sighed once more, knotted his tie, which he had loosened, and wiped off

the dust which he imagined was on the back of his pants. He wished he had a few more moments of privacy to think of Sara. He wanted to remember how her mouth felt when he kissed her; how her eyes sparkled when she was mad; how innocent and naïve she was, but business was calling and he had to leave. No need to make Zia any madder than she would be when she realized that the invitation sent to Sara Nolles was a waste.

SARA

“Do we keep driving, miss?” the driver asked. “A few more minutes, please.” I couldn’t ask the driver to drive around forever. He had taken me on a scenic tour of the city. I wondered if he'd be in trouble with his boss. “Yes, miss.” "I know you have to go back. I'm sorry for taking up your time," I apologized as I looked at my watch and realized we had been driving around in circles for over two hours. My apartment was only a forty-five-minute drive from Nick Saunders’ mansion, and I would have been home over an hour ago had we gone straight to my house. “I

guess you need to drop me off.” "No, ma'am. My instructions were to take you anywhere you wanted and drop you off only when you wanted to go home. Do you want to circle around town one more time?" "No, it's okay," I said. I was calm, and seriously, it wasn’t the end of the world even if Amy did chew me out when I got home. I had to face her some time and now was better than later. "You can take me home, please.” “Yes, miss,” the driver said as he slowly turned the limo around. No sooner than the limo pulled up to my apartment did Amy come

running out. She had been sitting at the window, watching and waiting for my return. She flung the door open before the driver could get it. "Tell me. Tell me everything," she squealed as she practically dragged me out of the limo. "Hang on," I said as I reached into my purse to give the driver a tip. I only had ten dollars, but that was better than nothing. "No, ma'am. I can’t take that," he said and bowed. "Have a good night." "You too. Thanks for everything," I said as I tucked the money back into my purse. I was glad he had

rejected the money; it was all I had for lunch next week. "Sara, seriously! Who gives a ten to a billionaire's driver? He probably makes that in second." "Well, that's all I had," I protested. "Never mind. Come on, tell me what happened. Why are you home this early?" She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, crossed her arms on her chest, and waited for me to answer. "Can we at least go inside first?" I asked, pushing gently past her to make it into the house. She followed me closely.

"Wait, you don't have the necklace? Did he take it away from you? Did you get in trouble?" "No, no, no. No to all your questions." "What do you mean? He didn't ask you why you were there?" "He didn’t need to. Apparently he’s this rich guy that had come to the café a few times and wanted to hang out with me. I think this was his idea of getting closer to me and kissing me…” "Stop! He what? Nick Saunders kissed you? And you’re saying it so casually as if it’s not a big deal. How the heck did you get him to kiss

you, you whore!" “I didn’t get him to do anything. If anything, it wasn’t mutual.” "He forced you?” “No, not exactly.” “What then? He begged you to kiss him?” "What? No, Amy. Nick Saunders can get any woman he desires. He has no need to force or beg me. And for what reason? I'm not rich nor in his class." "So why did he kiss you? I mean, that means he’s attracted to you, right?” Amy came to sit closer to me.

“What are you not telling?” "Nothing. I don’t think he’s attracted to me. I think he was trying to spite an ex-girlfriend." "What? That's low. Are you sure?” "I don’t know. That’s what it looked like. We had just met and started to talk, then this poster girl approached us and he asked me to kiss him.” “And you said yes?” “No, I said nothing, and he kissed me.” "And then you ran off?” Amy looked at me incredulously.

“Sort of,” I answered, avoiding her gaze. Amy had a way of making me regret my actions, and she was doing a good job of making me feel like I had done something wrong. "Sara, please tell me you didn't walk out on the richest man in the world because he kissed you." "I don’t…" "Tell me you didn't let Nick Saunders slip out of your hands because he kissed you." "Amy, the guy kissed me without my permission." "You just told me he asked you.”

“Yes, sort of.” “Did you want him to kiss you?” “Yes, kind of,” I said. Now that I was away from him, I admitted I had loved the feel of his mouth on mine. “Amy! Do you know how many girls would die to have him touch them? And he went as far as kissing you. Nick Saunders is not a kisser!” "How would you know that?” I asked, but before she could answer, I figured it out. “You read it somewhere.” “Yes, I did. He said he never kisses women. Too intimate for him.”

“I guess he lied then,” I said. "Or maybe he likes you.” "I don’t know,” I said. "Did he enjoy it?” Amy asked. “Fuck, Amy. How would I know?” I said. “He didn’t seem to mind, but that doesn’t give him the right to kiss me without my permission. We're two different people. In my world, men ask for permission to kiss women. No, only a man I am dating has a right to kiss me. I don’t care how rich he is, a random stranger cannot just kiss me because he can buy the whole world. I don't know about you, but..." "That's okay, Sara. I spent the

whole week getting you ready and this is how it ends. You're telling me I'm a whore because you're a virgin?" "I didn't say that." "Then what are you saying? In your world, in my world. Maybe you should let a man fuck you really hard so you can lose that air of innocence around you. Sometimes you make me sick." Amy was right. Maybe I was too naive about the world to know how things worked. Maybe a billionaire kissing me wasn’t the worst thing on earth. Maybe I had overreacted, but seriously, why would I not? It was offensive to take advantage of me. Nick Saunders had been wrong.

"Amy, I'm sorry. I didn't plan for the evening to turn out this way. It's just that you don't go to a ball uninvited every day, and you certainly don't plan to be kissed every day either." I hugged Amy, who was pouting. She ignored me for a moment but returned the tight embrace. "I'm so sorry, Sara. I'm totally wrong. I should be mad at Nick for kissing you without your permission and rather I'm mad at you for running away from him. That's so insensitive." I wanted to agree with her, but I knew when to leave things alone. Amy hardly ever apologized, and her apologies carried a lot of weight. I

needed to back down. "Amy, that's okay," I said. That seemed to cheer her up. She put her purse down and made me sit next to her. She turned on the desk lamp nearby and saw my face. "Oh gosh, Sara, you’ve been crying! You look like a mess. I'm so sorry," she said as she grabbed a tissue to wipe away my tears, which had since dried. "It's okay. I'm fine now. I was just so mad and confused, and you know how it is." She nodded, and after a few minutes of comfortable silence between

us, she looked at me with a mischievous smile. "So tell me, how was the kiss?" "Really?” I asked, blushing. My flustered face didn’t get past her. "You liked it! You virginwhore," she said, punching me playfully. "I didn't like it," I said, stifling a giggle. "Oh now, Sara Madison Nolles. I know you did. That smirk on your face tells me all I need to know. You totally enjoyed being ravished by a billionaire!” "I'd hardly call a quick kiss ravishing. But it wasn't so bad."

"Wasn’t so bad? Did you enjoy it or not?” "I don't know. It wasn't totally bad. It was too short, I guess, but it was sort of unexpected, warm and nice." "You whore!" "Can you please stop calling me a whore?" I teased. "I might actually start believing you." "Trust me. No one is going to mistake you for a whore. Even if you had a large neon sign on your forehead advertising your pussy for sale.” "Amy, you're so vulgar." "One of us has to be. So tell

me, do you plan on repeating the kiss?" I looked at her like she was kidding. Repeat the kiss? The man would probably kick me out of his house if I ever came near him. “Only if I wore a mask and he didn't recognize me. I treated him like he was evil or something.” "Unless..." Amy had that grin I hated, the one she always wore when she was about to make me do something that was not too smart. "You're evil," I said. "What do you mean?" Amy smiled innocently. "See that smile of yours? It

was the same one that got me detention in Mr. William's English class." "That wasn't totally my fault. You said you liked John Dixon, and I just gave him a note from you." "No, a note from you saying he was all I could think about every day. And you gave it to him in the middle of class. Do you remember my horror when Mr. Williams read that note and said it was signed by me?" I laughed. It had been so long since I had thought of that story, I could laugh about it. I hadn’t ratted on Amy and had to live down the shame as if I were the one who wrote the love note. "I know. And you know, I

remember the note very well. Dear John Dixon. I like you a lot. I really really like you. I'd really like it if you kissed me after class. Love, Sara Nolles." "Yes! It was not funny then," I said, trying to keep a straight face. "Maybe not, but what has John Dixon got to do with Nick Saunders?" “Nothing. Just that I know you can get pushy when it comes to my affairs with men, but try as much as you want, I will not date Nick Saunders.” "Oh well, your loss. Did you return the necklace to him?” "He wouldn’t take it back. The driver wouldn't take it back. I can't wear

it. I mean, I cannot accept such an expensive gift. If he already thinks he can kiss me because I was in his house, can you imagine what he would do to me if I wore the necklace?” "Well, you're not going to wear the necklace. But we are going to use it to get you what you want.” "What I want?" I asked, dreading the answer. She knew what I wanted, rather who I wanted, but I didn’t want Amy’s help because she had a way of complicating things. They were already complicated enough. Maybe I should have stayed and listened to him; we might have shared another kiss or two. We might be dancing together right

now. Maybe he would have introduced me to his other guests, and I'd have met someone who would offer me a job. Or maybe I could have talked about a job with him. So many maybes if Nick hadn’t kissed me. If Olivia hadn’t stopped by and the kiss had been mutual, things would have been different. “What you want is Nick,” Amy said. “Why would you think I want Nick?” I sounded defensive, but I hated it when Amy read my mind. “When Olivia Newton showed up, you freaked.”

“How do you know her last name?” "There's only one Olivia I know who is rich enough to be there. Oliva Newton. The Italian supermodel." "Oh...it was her. I knew she looked familiar." "He dumped a supermodel for you? Wow! You must have impressed him." "No, she must have kicked his tail so bad he was too ashamed to be seen as a loser, or maybe he just wanted to prove he can get any woman he wanted without her. I’m not sure what type of sick game he was playing, but

he’s had his fun and I won’t be part of it.” "So, you’re not going to kiss him again?” “No, I won’t,” I said emphatically. “You need to drop this.” “Sure, I will, but don’t you have to return his necklace to him?” "Dreading it, but yes,” I said. Even to my own ears, my lie was evident. I did want to see Mr. Rich again and was glad I hadn’t returned the necklace. It gave me a good reason to see him again. “So we’ll take it back.”

“We?” I asked. “Yes, we. I don’t want him to kiss you again without your explicit permission.” She had a faint smile on her face that told me she was mocking me. “And if my plan works out, he will be begging to kiss you every minute.” "What are you planning, Amy? Don’t get me in trouble again.” "I won't get you in trouble, Sara. I promise. But let me do the planning, okay?” I nodded. What choice did I have? Whatever Amy wanted, Amy got!

NICK Nick sat in his office looking out the window. It had been two weeks since the ball, and he had resisted every urge to call Sara and apologize to her, which was the decent thing to do, but his pride was such that he could not do it. That was one of the things he hated about being rich. Pride! He took so much pride in all he did that apologies were out of character for him. Sometimes he hated himself for that weakness, but most times, it worked to his favor. It worked well when he wanted to get a woman in bed - women loved his shrewdness and arrogance. But that wasn’t going to work

on Sara. So far, she had proven to be a tough catch, a different ball game. His pride helped him excel in business since he knew how to keep going even when others quit and gave up. His pride was what kept him hanging onto the last thread of hope for the preservation when the family thought all was lost. He knew a lot about pride, but so did Sara, apparently. He was restless, his mind focused on Sara and that curvy body of hers, his work neglected. He sat there for hours, drinking coffee and nibbling on the orange banana scones his secretary had brought in, his body aching for Sara. He glanced at his phone and saw a missed call from the phone

number that was dear to him, Sara’s. She had tried to contact him, but he hadn’t been sure how to respond to her call and had let it got to his voicemail. He knew she was calling to return the necklace, but he didn’t want her to do that just yet. If she kept it, she would have something that linked them. A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. "Yes," he answered absentmindedly. The door opened and his sister walked in. "Hi, Zia," he said, not too excited to see her when he saw the pile of papers in her hands. Zia’s main interests were numbers and business. Nick appreciated her and all she did, but he was in no

mood to talk business. He wanted to send her on her way with the least suspicious reason. If she found out what had happened at the ball, she would give him a lesson on how to treat women. Zia had already told him a million times he needed to treat women better, but she knew his inner pride sometimes made it hard for him to distinguish what was right and what was primal. "I have the final numbers," Zia said as she pulled up a chair across the desk from him. "Sure," Nick mumbled. "So, after tallying all our donations and proceeds from the auction, we actually met and exceeded our

budget." She was excited, and Nick didn’t want to kill her joy. "Good job, sis. If anyone can do things, you can. Over-achiever!" "Whatever, you know I'm good," Zia said. "And I thought we'd outgrown that teasing." "You mean over-achiever?" he asked, smiling. "Yes, that one," Zia pouted. "Well, little sis, I get to decide when I stop messing with you.” "Whatever, Nick. Anyways, I've been meaning to ask you a question about the night of the ball.” Nick's smile

was replaced by a small frown that deepened by the second. "Not trying to meddle with your affairs, but Grandma told me about this girl you were talking to.” "What girl?" Nick asked, pondering whether to tell her how much he really liked Sara. Zia was territorial, and he often wondered what she would do when he got married? Move in with him and his spouse? She’d made it her duty to protect him since they were kids and she had never let go of that responsibility. "Some curvy chick she said she liked. And you know Grandma doesn’t like most of your girlfriends, so I assume

this one is good.” "Maybe." "And Diane told me the girl left early." Nick looked at her, the frown deepening even more, creases appearing on his forehead and lips. "Zia, you know better than to discuss my business with the staff." "I wasn't discussing you. Diane felt I should know that one of our guests left unhappy." "One of my guests, not yours." "You know very well what I mean. One of your guests, fine. So you

made some lady, your guest, cry and go home. What did you do to her, take her ‘candy?’” She put air quotes around candy. "Not yet, Zia.” Nick giggled a little at her inappropriate joke. “But I don't want to discuss her." "Ok, don’t tell me,” Zia said, her eyes widening as she rose from the chair and walked around to Nick. She sat on his table so he could not escape her. “She is the one!” "Zia, you’re jumping to conclusions. Haven’t you learned not to listen to Grandma?” “No, and she did have a point.

You really like this girl. Sara, right?” “There’s nothing going on between us. Drop the topic. You’re going to spread a rumor about something that doesn’t exist.” “Me, spread a rumor? The entire staff saw you kiss her and watched her leave a few minutes later. You won’t admit this girl has you whipped!” "Zia, you need to leave my office. We can continue this meeting later. I'm going for a walk." “That won’t make your problem go away,” Zia chuckled. “Trust me, it’ll make my little

sister go away for now,” he said. He smirked at her and left her sitting on his desk. "Please take my messages. I'm going for a walk," Nick said as he passed Bev, his secretary. Just then the phone rang. "Mr. Saunders," Bev called before he disappeared around the corner. "You have a phone call. A Sara Nolles." He stopped as if he were thinking about it. "Take a message. I’ll call her back when I can.” He was being rude, but he was not ready to face Sara again, not so soon. With other women, he was never

nervous about seeing them again. They worshipped the ground he walked on. Sara, on the other hand, hardly cared about his money or riches. She had demonstrated that by trying to return the necklace and walking out on him and his money just because he kissed her. He had regretted the kiss since his lips touched hers. Not because he didn’t want to kiss her. He did, and so badly, but after that moment of tenderness, when he had taken her mouth with his, he had realized that he could never kiss another like that. His father had told him years ago that he knew his mother was his soulmate based on their first kiss. And Nick knew Sara was special to him, and he had to convince

her of that. He walked past his security and elevators, and walked out the sliding glass doors of the main building. The air was crisp, a beautiful fall day. He breathed in the air, allowing it to hit his lungs gently and calm his nerves. He sometimes wished he practiced yoga. It would have helped him to relax. He weaved through the streets of New York City like a pro. On days like this when he needed to escape his office and couldn’t get home, he imagined New York City thousands of years ago with land fertile and undeveloped. He imagined his forefathers, who would have wandered

the forest, foraging for food, providing for their families, and protecting their mates. They would have been totally unaware of the changes that were to come thousands of year later. He imagined if he and Sara had been alive then, they would have found each other and become one. The sound of a car’s horn directed loudly at him made him stop. He had lost track while walking, letting thoughts of Sara cloud his mind so much that he was almost run over by a car. He had wandered into oncoming traffic without thinking. “Watch where the fuck you’re going!” the taxi driver yelled at him.

“Sorry,” Nick said as he stepped out of the way. The taxi simply sped off. Nick cursed at himself but kept walking, careful to pay a little more attention to his surroundings. He was heading for his favorite park where he always found peace. It wasn’t the fanciest park and nor was it secluded, but he could see the zoo and feel a connection to nature. The park wouldn’t be busy today. It was never busy on Tuesdays, which was great. He could relax without too much distraction. He turned right and started walking toward the familiar route of the park. Once in a while, when he needed to clear his head, he would come out to the park to run during lunch, but today

wasn't a day he wanted to run. He usually kept his running gear in the office for easy access. But today, he just wanted to blend in. He simply wanted to walk and see what other people were doing. The park was crowded with children running, playing ball, swinging, and sliding. He sat at one corner of the playground, mindlessly observing people. There weren't too many men in the park, but there were a lot of women chasing after children. His thoughts went to Sara, who would make a good mother. She had the curves for it. She would make a good mother to the sons and daughters they’d

bear, just like his mom had been. Nick thought of his two younger brothers, Michael and Ian, who he hadn't seen in years. When their parents had died in a car accident, leaving the family business to the children to manage, their lives had changed. Michael had taken off to Europe. He claimed he wanted to explore the world and live wild for a few years. Nick was jealous of him. He wanted to explore the world too, but he and Zia had inherited the overseeing of the day-to-day operations of the family company because they had heads for numbers, according to his parents. He never asked what his brothers were good at; he had simply assumed the role.

Ian had moved to California a few months ago, signing off on the business as well. He had moved in with his girlfriend and they didn't hear much from him. This was good as far as he was concerned. Ian had trouble written all over him, and years ago, when they were one big family, Ian had always caused trouble. When he announced he was moving out of town, Nick could not have been happier. Granted, some days it was hard to run the family business with just the help of Zia and the occasional meddling of their grandmother, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He found an empty bench and sat on it in a position that allowed him to

watch the kids. The children seemed excited to be playing. He smiled as he watched a young boy, no more than three or four, holding a girl and giving her a hug as they flew down a slide. Even kids knew how to express love, something he admitted to himself he didn’t know. The girl said something to the boy and he kissed her quickly on the cheek – an innocent, playful kiss. He was jealous of them. The girl had not run off the way Sara had, and she and the boy were now playing in the sand. Maybe if he had asked Sara’s permission, she would have let him kiss her. But he doubted it. She was going to be hard to get. But the feeling that she was his soulmate was getting stronger by the day,

and if he didn’t want to be more messed up than he was, he had to get close to her. Offer her something, something she couldn’t refuse. But the first thing he had to do was find her and talk to her.

SARA I stood at the main entrance of Saunders Empire, wondering how I got there. The night before, Amy had convinced me to go to Nick Saunders’s office and talk to him, to return the necklace and confront him for kissing me. She had opted at the last minute not to go with me in order to “control

herself.” I didn’t ask her what she meant, but knowing Amy’s knack for causing problems, I was relieved she had decided not to go with me. “Don’t let him push you around,” she giggled. “Come back in one piece.” Amy had used the word push to make fun of me. Left to her, she would have gladly gone back for more pushing from Nick. Like she’d said to me right before she left, "Who wouldn't want to be kissed by a billionaire?” Apparently I'm the only girl on earth who didn't want some stranger shoving his tongue down my throat. Billionaire or not. As I debated whether to go in

and demand to see him, some lady brushed past me. She looked very familiar; actually, she looked exactly like Nick, except she was the female version of him. This was the famous twin Amy had alluded to. The resemblance between her and Nick was too apparent to be missed. She walked a few steps ahead of me. She was tall with dark, bouncy, black hair and heading for the entrance when she turned around to face me. "I know you from somewhere," she informed me, walking back. "Are you coming in?" "Yes," I replied. "Come on then," she said as

she walked through the door, which had been held open for her. I followed her closely. “Thanks. Are you Nick's sister?" Once the words left my mouth, I regretted speaking. I had called him Nick like I knew him well. The way his name rolled off my tongue, no one would have known that the only interaction the two of us had shared so far was a kiss I had been an unwilling participant in. She stopped in the middle of the reception area and turned around. She didn’t answer my question, but she looked at me from head to toe as if assessing me. "So you’re a friend of my brother’s?” she asked. “Interesting.”

The way she said it made me self-conscious. I probably wasn't what she was used to seeing when compared to Nick's fleet of mega-rich brats and bitch girlfriends, aka sluts. Maybe I wasn't skinny enough or maybe I wasn’t slutty enough. I looked down at my clothes. Yes, second-hand clothes, even though nice, hardly made a good impression on a billionaire princess. "Not really," I said. “Well, sort of.” "And you're here to see him?" "Yes." She looked at me a little longer, like she was trying to determine

what to do when a look of recognition flashed over her face as she walked to the elevator. "I'll take you to my brother," she said, getting into the elevator and holding it open for me. I scrambled in, noting that the elevator was fancier than the best hotels I'd ever been to. I could smell her perfume – a fruity, exotic scent that had probably been made for her. "So, where did you meet my brother?" she asked casually as she pressed the button to the penthouse once the door of the elevator closed. I glanced at the penthouse button and all sorts of naughty things crossed my mind before I remembered

that I was simply here to return a necklace to Mr. Rich. "We met…ah...at the ball," I answered, and again, I regretted my words. She would have been at the ball and that ball was supposed to be for guests they already knew. I didn’t want to get Nick in trouble, though I doubted anyone could ever do that. I hoped she assumed I had come with someone else and happened to meet him. "You must be Sara Nolles," she said flatly, but I saw a mischievous smile curve her face. "I can see why my brother likes you.” I wanted to refute the idea that Nick liked me, but Zia didn’t look like

she was in the mood to talk too much, and besides, she didn’t look like someone I wanted to argue with. She would probably win. "He doesn't really know me..." I began, but I was cut off by the ding of the elevator. We had arrived at the penthouse. She entered a security access code since the elevator needed one to let us out and into the penthouse. She put her thumb on a screen to confirm her identity. I watched silently, trying not to get too excited. All that separated Nick and me was a fancy elevator. Why do Nick and his sister need high security access? I assumed they had grown so

rich they’d probably made enemies along the way, people like Olivia who probably stalked Nick. Or maybe I was letting my imagination run wild again and the security access was just to restrict unauthorized access to their company’s sensitive materials. That made more sense than Olivia stalking Nick at the office. That was more hilarious, though. I chuckled to myself. Nick’s sister turned to look at me, and I quickly pretended I was straightening my skirt suit. I would never have to worry about security as long as I remained nicely broke - one of the benefits of having ten dollars to my name. And since there was no boyfriend in the

picture, I wasn’t worried about some man coming after me for retaliation. The elevator finally opened to reveal another security check, a man dressed in a crisp security uniform. "Good day, Ms. Saunders," he greeted as she walked by, but he stopped me briefly. “Security access?" he asked. "Huh?" "Your name tag?" he asked. "You can do a quick finger scan, Dan. She's with me," Ms. Saunders said. The security guard pulled out a device that looked like a small, handheld game and asked me to place my thumb

on it. At first I was hesitant because I didn't know what having my fingerprint meant, but the urge to see Nick overwhelmed my need to protect myself or my identity, so I placed my thumb on the scanner. In five seconds, the scanner beeped and showed that I was clear. "Thank you, ma'am," the man said. "Ms. Nolles," I corrected, but he already knew that; the handheld device let him print out a laminated temporary ID card which had my name and picture. He handed it to me. "Please hold on to that while you are in our facility. Have a pleasant day, Ms. Nolles."

"Tough security," I commented to Ms. Saunders as I rejoined her where she was patiently waiting for me. "Yes, we must protect our employees.” I didn't ask what they were being protected from. Nick’s sister opened the door and entered an office space with several people sitting behind really nice glass offices, all working. She walked fast, but I kept up her pace. She walked toward a section of the room with a placard emblazoned with “Nick Saunders” in bold letters. A woman who was on the

phone quickly got off and greeted her. "Hello, Bev," Ms. Saunders replied without a smile. In the few minutes I had spent with Nick’s sister, I understood that she was polite but never smiled. I wondered if she ever smiled. "Is Nick here?" she asked as she walked toward an office behind her, but before she could open the door, the secretary replied. "He's gone out for a walk." "How long has he been gone?" Her face showed her concern. I wondered why. I'm sure it was perfectly safe for a grown man to take a walk on his own. Unless she was afraid he was

out of the security blanket when he was gone for too long. I stifled a smile. "About thirty minutes. He said he'd be back in an hour." I followed her eyes to a clock on the wall. 12:30. "This is Ms. Nolles. She's here to see Nick. Make sure her needs are met until Nick returns." "Yes, ma'am. But she doesn’t have an appointment." One look from Ms. Saunders and Bev backed down, sat, and turned on her computer. "Then find her one." "Right away, ma'am." "Sara, it was nice meeting you.

I will see you again. I’m Zia Saunders, by the way." She flashed me a smile - the first I had seen. She had a dimple in one cheek, just like her brother’s, when she smiled. "Thank you so much, Ms. Saunders," I said. "Call me Zia. I'll see you soon," she said with such certainty that I totally believed her.

NICK When Nick returned from his walk, his eyes widened in shock. The

woman in the waiting room of his office wasn’t supposed to be here. How did she get here? He had left specific instructions for the staff to only let people up to the penthouse with his or Zia’s approval. Had Zia already met Sara? Did all hell break loose? So he took a couple of breaths and calmly walked toward her, willing his body to stay calm. She had the power to make him lose control even when she wasn’t trying, and now was no different. His pants grew tighter at the sight of the fishnet tights on her endless legs. She was wearing a red and black skirt and a really cute white top that showed off a little more of her cleavage than he was comfortable with. Keeping his hands off

her was going to be a dare he didn’t know if he’d win. Even though she wore a spring coat - a red coat that covered some of her outfit, he could sense her curves, and the knowledge of how good her body looked was driving him crazy. All he wanted was to run to her and hold her, kiss her and hope she didn’t run away. But he knew better than that. If he so much as touched her again without her permission, his ass would be fried for it. He was weak for her, but he didn’t want to go to jail for not being able to control his desire for her. Someone was watching him watching Sara. He looked over at Zia’s

office. She smiled and waved at him with two thumbs up. He knew she had authorized Sara to come up to his office. Even though Nick didn’t need Zia’s approval to date anyone, her approval of Sara only validated the fact that he could not give up on pursuing Sara until she became his. He took quick steady steps towards his office, and as Bev saw him approach, he saw her look from him and to Sara, a look of helplessness in her eyes, like she couldn’t do anything to keep Sara away from his office. “Ms. Zia said it was okay,” Bev said. “She has no appointment.” "It is okay, Bev,” Nick said. He

couldn’t be mad at Bev for something she couldn’t prevent. He knew Zia was tough to get around. Heck, he sometimes found it difficult to get around Zia once she set her mind on something. "Sorry, sir," Bev said, shrugging her shoulders as she sat back at her desk “It’s okay. I’ll take it from here,” he said, smiling at the woman who still looked worried. "Ms. Sara Nolles?" Nick said as he approached her, holding his breath as he waited for her to turn around and look at him. Those lips. He dreaded seeing those lips again, but he had better self-control this time. He willed his

body to behave and his piece in his pants to stay calm.

"Mr. Saunders. Sorry to disturb you at work, but I had to see you," Sara said as soon as she saw him. “It’ll only take a few minutes.” “It’s a pleasure to see you,” Nick said. He wanted to say he was surprised to see her, but that would be a lie. He knew that as long as she had that necklace, their paths were going to cross; he just hadn’t expected to see her so soon after the kissing incident. “Thank you for seeing me,” Sara said as she reached into her pocket

to pull out the box before he could open his office door. “This belongs to you. I can’t keep it.” Nick hesitated a little, then took the box from her. ‘It’s lovely, and I’m sorry. But I can’t keep it,” Sara said. “I hope you understand.” “I do,” Nick said. He couldn’t force the necklace on her. “Thank you,” Sara said. She rose to leave. “I better leave you to get some work done.” “Wait,” Nick said. He needed to stall her. Once she left his office, she was gone forever from his life. He

couldn’t let that happen. “Yes?” Sara said. “I’m glad you made it to the ball.” “Oh, it was my pleasure. My best friend made me go. She’s obsessed with you.” “Then I should meet her someday to thank her for making you come,” Nick said, watching her closely, hoping his statement would help her open up to him, but she simply smiled and gathered her things, ready to leave his office. “She’ll be thrilled,” Sara said.

“Do you have a moment to spare?” Nick asked as he opened his office door. He had to try and woo her, just enough to make her spend the rest of the day with him. “Yes, a few minutes,” she said. Nick noticed the look of anticipation in her eyes, like she wanted something more than she was letting on. Maybe she did like him as much as he liked her. "Please come inside," Nick requested. He led her into his office, opening the door wide to let her in. She walked in front of him and he walked behind, his eyes glued shamelessly to her behind. He observed her as she walked, her hips moving and

gliding against the fabric of her coat. He knew what was wrapped underneath her coat - dangerous curves that could mess him up. He shut the door behind him. "Nice office," she told him, and Nick pointed to a seat for her. "Thanks." He smiled as he sat across from her. "Very nice,” she said when she noticed a huge 3D painting of a large forest that took up most of one wall of the office. “I like the outdoors. Impressive painting.” "Thanks," Nick said. Impressive was not the word most girls he had brought to his office used for that

picture. In fact, none of the girls he’d ever dated had noticed or commented on the picture. They had been too busy trying to spread out on the table for him, something Sara was clearly not going to do anytime soon. "You must love the outdoors," Sara said. "I do.” Nick looked at Sara, who avoided his eyes. “Do you?” "Yes," she simply said. “A lot.” “Great. Then you should visit sometime," he said, pointing at the painting on the wall. “That’s the most peaceful place on earth.”

“It’s real? That’s amazing,” Sara said, her eyes lighting up. “That's the preservation we raise funds for annually through the ball. My company wants to preserve all nature as we know it.” Sara looked at the picture again. “Is it okay if I get a little closer?” "Sure," he said, walking over to the picture with her. The only thing he wanted to get closer to was the woman in front of him, but he didn’t want to scare her any more than he had already. He watched her walk gingerly toward the picture. He gave her some decent space, not wanting to crowd her, but as she stood observing the picture, he

inched closer to her. "There, over there, is a tree that’s over a hundred years old." He drew nearer to her to point at a tree in the picture. Gosh, she was sweet, he thought. She smelled sweet! Her scent was tugging at all the right parts in his body. He could smell her hair - fresh berries with a hint of orange. What conditioner did she use? He wanted to ask her but knew that would be weird. "Wow. It looks like a lost kingdom. A place you could live forever." Nick's heart stopped. He would love to own a home close to the preservation if it meant Sara would be

with him there forever. They could play all night and sleep all day. Heck, she could even do whatever she wanted as long as she was always close to him. He looked at her childish admiration of the painting and decided to tease her. "I don't know. A girl like you may not survive there.” "You'd be surprised. I'm not one of your skinny, blonde girlfriends you can kiss at will." "Regarding that," Nick said, walking away from the painting so she was forced to follow him. "I am so sorry that happened. It was not meant to happen. I didn’t do it to make anyone jealous, as you imagined."

"So, why did you kiss me? Do you make it a habit of kissing women whenever you feel like it?” "I warned you," he chuckled. “I did ask you to kiss me.” "Telling me to kiss you is not a warning. It's a command, and I'm not your child to boss around." Nick’s tone changed, and his voice lowered. "You’re right, Sara, and I'm truly sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You looked so beautiful that day, and I couldn’t resist the urge to get closer to you. I wanted to kiss you so badly, since the first day I saw you at the coffee shop. I guess I just gave in to my desires when I saw you at the ball.”

Nick looked at her, observing her reaction and wishing he could tell her the truth rather than apologize for a kiss he had loved. If only he could tell her how he felt about her - he wanted to kiss her, hold her, and make love to her right then and always. He liked her so much more than was healthy, and he was prepared to do whatever he needed to do to get her to say yes to him. “Apology accepted,” Sara said. “I'm flattered.” Nick looked at her, her innocence overwhelming him. If only she knew how good she looked. Girls like her intrigued Nick, but they were hard to find. They didn’t see their bodies the

way men saw them – beautiful and sexy! "I’m not flattering you," he laughed. “Just stating the obvious. You’re beautiful.” "Oh," she said, her face turning red. “Thank you.” “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I keep doing that. My apologies again,” Nick said. Nick could tell she was not she used to compliments, which was a shame for someone so pretty. Was she not used to being loved? If he ever got a chance to show her how much he cared for her, he would protect her with all his life, with all his money. He looked at her

again, and all he could think of was her parted lips. He wanted so much to kiss her again, but he knew better than that. "Thank you," she said simply.

SARA I looked at the man who had just told me I was beautiful. Beautiful was a word I rarely heard but one I’d take. He was avoiding my eyes as if I’d caught him looking at me. I wanted to tell him how beautiful he was, but I was still mad at him and really needed go home. I had a couple of job resumes I needed to send out and hanging out here,

playing friends with him, was not going to make my bills go away.

“So the necklace,” he said, taking the box I had given him earlier and replacing it in my hands.

I pushed the necklace toward him, sliding it on the table. "It's so gorgeous, but I can't accept it, unless you tell me every invitation card for all your guests was sent with a diamond necklace."

"What if I said yes?" he said.

I looked at him. One look into his eyes told me that wasn't true. "I'd know that's not true and you’re saying it to make me keep the necklace."

"I do want you to keep the necklace, Sara," he said, pushing it back to me.

"Why? We've never met. You don't know me. Why would I keep a necklace that looks like it cost a thousand dollars?" The necklace game was getting childish and I needed to end it.

"A million," he said casually.

"Excuse me?" I asked, hoping he hadn’t said what I thought I’d heard. Why would a person send a milliondollar necklace to a random girl? What if I had sold it and kept the money? I had no clue how expensive that necklace was, and if I had sold it, I'd have been cheated.

"Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything about the price.”

"But you did, and I won't keep this," I said and stood. “I don’t know why you want me to keep this necklace so badly. It’s ridiculous. I don’t want to play games anymore.”

“I don’t play games,” he said coldly.

“Maybe not, but I need to go. I have a million job applications to complete. I don’t have the luxury of sitting in a penthouse entertaining men, women, whatever. I’m sorry, I have to go…”

“You’re hired.”

"Excuse me?" I asked, looking at him.

“You said you needed a job, so I hired you.” “You just can’t hire me. You don’t even know what my major is or what I’m qualified to do.”

“That, Ms. Nolles, is wrong. I have seen your resume, and I did question why and how my company did not retain you after your internship.”

“Maybe so,” I replied, wondering how in the world the CEO of a multibillion company would have seen my resume. But he sounded so sure. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had done a background check on me.

“I make it a habit of knowing who I hang out with,” he told me, drawing closer to me. I was standing against a wall, and he was too close for comfort.

“I guess you did a background check on me?” I asked, my voice

disappointing me. Instead of sounding confident, I sounded hollow and weak. Mr. Rich had a ridiculous way of making me hot and bothered.

“Not the way I’d have liked to,” he said, drawing even nearer until a kiss between us was inevitable. He hesitated for a moment like he was going to ask me first, so I nodded, rather involuntarily, but it was the answer he needed. His lips crushed mine, and he kissed me like I’ve never been kissed before. At first I was not sure how to respond, but as his kiss persisted, I kissed him back even more furiously. Soon our hands were all over our

bodies.

“I’ve been thinking of you forever,” he moaned between his kisses. “You don’t know the half of it.”

I knew what he meant. Though I didn’t want to admit it, Nick had become a permanent part of my dreams and fantasies, but I wasn’t going to tell him I thought about him every night. No way, at least not now, when I was lost in his arms, his touch. I reached out to hold his head and draw him closer to me. I haven’t kissed many men, but what I was doing was working. Nick was getting

hard against me, his cock pushing against my skirt, my stomach. He was moaning as he kissed me.

I froze, unsure of what I wanted to do. The good girl in me wanted to put a stop to this, but the bad part of me, the one that wanted Nick so badly, didn’t want to let go. I went with my gut feeling and reached for his hips and pulled him closer to me, causing his cock to dig deeper into me. I wanted him so badly my body was shaking.

“Are you okay?” he murmured between kisses. “I can stop if you want

me to.”

I couldn’t let him stop now. My pussy was wet with anticipation and lust. Only one thing would do: getting his cock inside me.

The thought of his fucking me made me shy and sort of brought me back to reality. This guy was a player who had a girlfriend named Olivia as well as numerous other girls on the side. How did I get myself in this situation? I was not one of those girls who gave in to every desire. I wanted so badly to pull out of his arms, curse him out, and leave

with the intention of never seeing him again. But I couldn’t. His kiss was too tantalizing to break off. Then he broke it off.

“What?” I murmured, and catching myself, I stepped away from him, my shame at having let my guard down overpowering me. I couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“I don’t want to rush you, Sara. God knows I want you so bad. I want you and everything you have to offer, but I don’t want to rush you.”

I felt stupid. What sort of woman hooks up with Nick Saunders, the official bad boy of the country? What was I thinking? The thought of what could have happened and how Amy would have been excited made me giggle.

“What am I missing?” Nick asked.

“Nothing. Just my best friend almost came with me to see you, and she backed out at the last minute. Just wondering if she had any idea what might have happened.”

“What might have happened?” Nick drew closer to me again, and I stepped aside so we weren’t so close.

“I don’t know. We might have….” my voice trailed off.

“Might have done what, Sara?”

“You know,” I said, embarrassed.

“Had sex?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Yes, we might have, but I don’t want to rush you,” he said, touching my face tenderly. His hand felt soft and warming.

Gosh, this man turned me on just by looking at me. This was ridiculous. Amy was right, I needed to get laid so I could get on with my life. “I didn’t take you for the patient type.”

"Did you do a background

check on me?” he giggled.

"What? No. My friend, Amy, is one of your biggest fans.”

"Then I'd love to meet her. How about dinner tonight? You and Amy?"

"Ah…okay,” I said hesitantly, wondering how returning a necklace had become an arousing afternoon that led to dinner. "Well, Amy is working late and I..."

"You’re off from the coffee shop, and you haven’t started working here yet."

"How do you...?” How did he know my schedule?

“Know what you’re up to?”

“Yes. Are you keeping tabs on me?” I said. I should have been mad at him, but I was flattered that he knew my schedule and we weren’t even together.

"I make it my duty to know what I want to know. Dinner at seven then? You, me, and Amy? "

“I’ll try.”

"Please wear this necklace." He pushed the box back to me. The damn necklace again.

“I haven’t even said yes to the invitation,” I giggled as I picked up the jewelry box.

"I’m hoping you will. Please take it, and accept the dinner as my apology for kissing you,” he said.

"That’s fine, dinner at seven then,” I said.

“I’m guessing the only way to make you go out with me is by kissing you?”

“What?” My cheeks were on fire. “Of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Well, my illicit kiss got me a dinner date with you. I better score some more dinner dates to bank for the future,” he said.

“What…”

He didn’t let me finish. His mouth was on mine again, but I was ready for him. He was slow and deliberate like he wasn't rushing, and he truly wanted to explore the kiss. I let my hand drop to his side as he reached out to hold the curve of my ass and pull me closer to him. I let his body melt with mine. I could smell his essence.

Again, I felt his cock pressing against my tummy. I was losing my senses, and as much as I wanted to escape his hands, I was too weak to let go. As his hands moved from the curve of my waist toward my ass, I let myself relax. I knew he wouldn't do anything I didn't want. He had been in a position to take me just a few minutes ago, but he had stopped when he assumed I couldn’t handle it. His kiss deepened, his mouth searching mine like he had lost something. Once more, I had the courage to kiss him back with the same fervor. He pressed hard against me, his cock bulging even more as I kissed him. I wanted so much to focus on the kiss, but

his cock was so huge I was literally melting in his arms. I broke the kiss, causing him to moan.

“Sorry," I said. I wanted so much to glance at his groin out of curiosity, but I knew better. He was well-endowed, I was sure of it.

“Don’t be sorry, Sara,” he said. “Don’t tell me you don't feel anything between us." Nick held my gaze. I would not give him that pleasure by looking away. My lack of submission to him didn’t deter him; instead it made him more

eager to be with me as he leaned in so quickly that I didn't see it coming. I didn't resist him, couldn’t resist him. His hands reached beneath my shirt and he hit a snag. I smiled as I let him figure out the best way to get to my breasts was to unbutton my shirt. It didn’t take him long. The buttons came undone like they were burning his fingers. The last one, a hook, got stuck, and before I could help him unhook it, he ripped my shirt apart. For this man, I would rip all the clothes in my wardrobe. He cupped my breast, tenderly at first, then a little harder. I yelped in surprise. "Are you okay?” I didn't reply. I put his hand

back on my breast and squeezed his hand with mine, enjoying the feeling of pain which had become pleasurable. “Yes, I’m fine.” He kissed me again and led me to a couch in the corner of his office. Within seconds, I was topless, in just my lacy bra and my skirt and panties. I tried to cover my breasts with my hands, but he gently pulled them away. I knew how much body I had; I had been teased when growing up about my curviness. The thought of a man seeing me naked for the first time was too much. "You're beautiful. Never forget that," he said as his lips descended on my nipples.

If I had any objections or personal hang-ups, they all dissolved with his kiss. I relaxed into the sofa, my hand reaching toward him and pulling him down to me. I rubbed his hair, his back, his shoulders, anywhere my hands could reach, unsure where I wanted to settle until my fingers finally dug into his back. It spurred him on; he kissed my nipples harder, pulling and tugging and sending jolts of pleasure down my spine and all the way to my pussy. I could feel my panties getting wet. At first I was embarrassed, but then I allowed myself to get lost in the sensations. “You taste so good,” he said as he lifted his mouth from my nipples and kissed me. He took my entire nipple into

his mouth again, and he bit on it softly while looking at me like he wanted to make sure I was okay with moving forward. I wanted to look away, but his eyes were so kind, so endearing. I simply nodded my consent, which caused him to take my nipple between his teeth and bite harder. He looked at me again and I nodded. He could bite me all he wanted because I truly enjoyed it. “Are you okay?” he asked and I nodded. He smiled and took my other nipple in his mouth, biting down softly at first, then harder. He trailed his mouth down the middle of my stomach and to

my belly button. Shivers ran through my body, but it got worse when I realized where he was heading. No one had ever touched me there, except me, of course, and this man who was almost a stranger was heading to my pussy like he owned it. I knew I should stop him, but I couldn’t possibly stop him even if I wanted to. I was too turned on to turn back, and I knew from his grunts and moans he wanted me as badly as I did him. He pulled my skirt down roughly. The only thing that stood between him and my pussy was a pair of white panties that were by no means sexy at all. In fact, I was embarrassed about my panties. I hadn’t planned on

sleeping with the enemy when I came to his office, so wearing sexy panties was not on my to-do list. He didn’t even seem to notice my discomfort with my underwear. He put his fingers on the band and pulled them off quicker than I could ever have imagined. As the panties slid down my legs, I felt some of my wetness on my inner thighs. He had turned me on more than I had thought possible. I reached my hand over his head, feeling a need to give back the pleasure. I yanked his shirt over his head, baring his torso. He was beautiful, but before I could admire his entire body, his face had returned to my body and was dangerously between my legs. I closed my eyes, expecting a finger

or his cock inside me. But instead, I felt the warmth of his tongue as it settled on my clit. He was going to lick me. I froze as his lips touched mine, wondering how it was going to feel and how he felt being down there, but those thoughts went away as he licked my juices. "Sara," he moaned as he licked me. I could sense his arousal even though I hadn’t touched his cock. I wanted so desperately to touch his cock and tried to stand up so I could touch his shoulder, but he pushed me back to lying position. “Plenty of time for me,” he said. "Relax."

I relaxed and let the sensation whirling in my pussy envelope the rest of my body and take over my senses. He licked my clit for so long it seemed it would never end, and each time his tongue touched me, I shivered, my sex becoming wetter. I was afraid I would come before he penetrated me, and I really wanted to feel him inside me. "Please," I begged, moaning softly, trying to pull him up to me. "Please what?" he teased. “Tell me what you want, Sara.” "I need you," I said shyly. He moved up from my pussy and lay on me, pinning me down with his

body. I reached out to trace his body. I could definitely tell this man was an outdoors person. He had the definition to show for it. I realized there was so much more about him I didn’t know, but this was not the time to ask questions. "You sure this is what you want?" he teased. "Yes," I said, then I noticed him glance at the door. I remembered we were in his office and the door was unlocked. I wanted to ask him to lock the door, but I knew the moment would be lost if I did that. He must have read my mind. He looked at me and pulled me close to him.

"Don’t worry. No one comes in without my permission.” I nodded. I wanted to ask about his sister, but she had more important things to worry about than chasing after who Nick was fucking. He didn’t let my worries linger; he quickly pulled his pants off. I closed my eyes, fearful of what I would see. "Open your eyes," he said gently, reaching out to take my hands away from my eyes. “You can touch it," he whispered. I let him guide my hands towards him, holding my breath in anticipation of what I’d feel. I didn't know what to expect, having never

touched a man's cock. It was warm and firm and he was ready for me. He flipped me around and pinned me down on the sofa. His fingers touched my pussy. "So warm and wet," he murmured. I touched his cock, fighting the urge to beg him to fuck me hard. Wet and warm was nice, but all I wanted was to feel him deep in me. He understood what I needed; he positioned himself at my entrance, causing me to inhale sharply. I knew it would hurt, but I was ready. He started by gently nudging at me, like his cock was trying me out for size. After a few nudges, he slid into me, not all the

way at first. I stiffened, and he could feel it. He looked at me, our eyes catching. “This is your first time.” It was a statement, not a question. I felt ashamed that I had no experience in sex. Lying to him was not going to work because he was so experienced he could tell a virgin from an expert. “Yes,” I whispered in a barely audible voice, shame coursing through me. Maybe I should have taken Amy’s advice and gotten laid before I met Nick. “And you want to continue?” “Yes,” I said. He gently pushed into me a little more. I winced, then relaxed as he

pushed all the way in. I felt the pain tear me up like I was being split, but it lasted only a few seconds. He held his cock steady inside of me, then gently pulled out and thrusted into me slowly. The pain was not as intense. I relaxed with each penetration, and soon he was thrusting quickly into me. I held onto him tightly, my body riding along as he moved, his impossible cock fitting like a glove. Intermittently, his mouth gently claimed mine and let go as he kept rocking me. I reached the height of my pleasure, my moans getting louder. His grunts heightened as he pounded me harder and harder. Then a warm bubble spread inside me, threatening to erupt.

I held onto Nick, screaming his name over and over again as he thrusted so deep into me I started shaking. He was coming as well, his orgasm overtaking him as he held me closer. As our bodies melted together, I knew that Nick was right about one thing. There was something between us, something worth exploring.

NICK Long after Sara had left, Nick sat in his office, dreaming about how perfect his afternoon had been. Who would have thought that a girl that pretty

was still a virgin in her twenties? He didn’t know New York had any virgins over seventeen years old. He was still lost in his thoughts when a knock sounded at his door, and as usual, without waiting for a response, Zia strolled into the office. "Someone had a good time," Zia smirked. "Zia, stop. You let her in." "She looks decent and I liked her. I thought you'd appreciate her visit." "Maybe so. What's your point?” Nick said, trying to hide the irritation in his voice. Zia had a way of getting under his skin at the worst

moments. "Nothing. I walked over to discuss serious business, but your office smells like sex.” "Zia, you really have to start learning how to mind your business. I think you need a man to keep you entertained. I should hook you up with one of my friends. That would keep you busy and out of my hair.” Zia snarled at him. "You know that's never going to happen. Your friends are all jerks.” “Probably, but you can't live in the past forever. Being hurt doesn't mean you can't move on. Jason was an asshole

for cheating on you, but that was in high school, Zia.” "Fine, Nick. I think that's enough about me," Zia said firmly, her voice controlled and her tone flat. "So how can I help you?” Nick said, sitting in his huge leather chair. "You owe the preservation some money.” "What do you mean?” "What do I mean? You've been so preoccupied with getting into Sara’s pants you've hardly given work any thought.” "Fine. So what do I owe and

for what?” “Your girlfriend’s share of the donation for the ball.” “Oh, yes,” Nick said. “Take it out of my salary for this month. I did forget.” “Of course you did. Where your mind’s been, I’d forget if I were you. So tell me, was she as good as she looks?” “Zia, you don’t give up, do you?” Nick said. "You should know me by now," Zia said as she started to walk away. “And if you don't want to have little ones all over your house soon, you probably

should use a condom next time.” Nick picked up an eraser off his desk and flung it at her, but she dodged it and closed the door after her. After she left, Nick still had a smile on his face, partly from the memory of how warm Sara had been, and partly from the fact that his sister was the most persistent person he’d ever met. Zia was a pain in the rear, but he loved her. He liked how Zia teased him about Sara. It meant one thing – she liked Sara. She never liked any of his women. This was the first time she had expressed interest in his female affairs, and it was nice to know his twin also liked Sara.

Thoughts of Sara brought more smiles to his face, and surprisingly, made his pants feel tighter. He was getting a hard on by simply thinking of her. He couldn’t wait to see her later that evening, and hopefully, if things went well, he’d get another chance to show her how much he truly cared for her.

SARA I left Nick’s office determined not to overanalyze the situation. I had shamelessly had sex with a man who probably didn’t care too much about me now that he had gotten into my panties.

One part of me regretted giving myself so completely to him. The logical thing to do was to call him and cancel the dinner plans we’d made for tonight, then ignore him and let things die. But I knew Mr. Rich too well. He would never back down from anything he wanted, and if he wanted me, there was no escaping him.

Amy couldn't make it to the dinner even though she really wanted to go. One of her co-workers was leaving their company and she had to attend an informal send-off dinner.

I had wanted her to come with

me –almost like a chaperone– but on the other hand, Nick and I had gone too far to need a babysitter.

Thinking of sitters, I rubbed my belly. I had been so carried away I forgot to use protection. I crossed my fingers and prayed I was safe. Either way, it was too late to worry. Nick had released his seed in me and I had gladly received it. I didn't want it any other way.

Amy came over to my house to dress for her party because, as she had stated over the phone, she wanted to

make sure I was dressed appropriately for the occasion.

"Amy, you know you don't have to be here," I grumbled as I opened the door, but she pushed past me, bubbling with excitement. I swear no one could be as excitable as Amy.

"What do you mean I don't have to be here? Sara, the man would be ashamed of being seen with you, the way you dress. He's used to classy women, remember? Your goal is to entice him and make him want you."

I snorted. "What's wrong with how I dress? Besides, I don't need to entice him."

Amy placed her purse on the chair and looked at me. "What do you mean?" I tried to hide the smirk on my face but was unsuccessful. "You slut. You total slut! You slept with him, didn't you?"

I couldn’t deny it even if I wanted. This was Amy and what Amy wanted, she got. Instead of denying it, I smiled and looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

"You are not denying it?”

"Amy, how is this your business?"

"My best friend loses her virginity and it's none of my business?"

"It really isn't. Please don't ask me to tell you the details. Because I won't," I said as I left her standing in the living room. I went to my closet to pick out clothes.

"Sara, there is no way I'd let you not tell me. It was your first time and I have a right to know every detail. Was he big? Was he good? Did he go down on you?" She had followed me to my closet.

"Amy! I'm not telling,"

"Just a little, please. At least tell me if it was good."

I stood in my closet, sorting through the hangers, trying to decide

what to wear. Suddenly my closet, which had been mostly functional for years, seemed so inadequate.

"Help please?" I turned to Amy. If anyone knew how to put together an ensemble, Amy did. She could mix and match my clothes and present amazing selections. But she didn't budge; she stood there, hands akimbo, apparently waiting for me to tell her about my day with Nick.

"It was nice," I said in a voice so low you had to be right next to me to hear it.

“Just nice?" Amy said, smiling.

"It was great and I'm glad I waited for the right man."

"Oh, he's suddenly the right man? A few days ago, he was the man who had forced himself on you and now he’s the perfect man? Are you kidding me?”

I smiled and nodded. How do I explain how I felt in Nick's arms earlier that day? How do I tell her the secrets

Nick and I now shared? We had only just met, met officially, but somewhere deep down, I knew Nick was the right man for me. I wasn't going to rush it, though. I was not the type of person to rush into things, most of the time.

"He is sort of cool," I rephrased my sentence, hoping Amy would leave me alone. It seemed to have worked because she looked at me, smiled, moved to my closet, and pushed me to the side.

"Let me do this."

I moved aside and let her work her magic. In a few seconds, she uncovered a black, silky dress with tags on it. I had purchased it years ago, but it had been too big. I’d kept it because I truly loved it. I had since put on a little weight and the dress might just be right.

"I forgot this was here," I told her, taking the hanger from her.

"Well, I didn't. We bought it together and I remember how much you liked it. It might fit better now."

I pulled the dress over me and walked to the mirror. It had fit like it should, flattering my curves and clinging to the parts of my body Nick would find fascinating.

"That's my girl. You're going to knock the socks off this guy. Oh, wait, I forgot. You already knocked his pants off."

"Stop!" I said to Amy, playfully hitting her. Yes, he had laid in my arms naked. I remembered the feel of my hands on his skin, how solid he had felt when I traced the definitions in his body.

He had been in a hurry to take his clothes off and I hadn’t hesitated either. As I applied my makeup and stepped into a pair of black stilettos, I hoped tonight would be the same.

"Your limo is here," Amy announced as we heard a knock on the door. "You know, in New York City, most of us take cabs to dates, not limos."

"Well, not all of us date billionaires. What can I say?" I said, smiling and kissing her on the cheek. "Please make sure to lock up after you leave."

NICK Nick arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes before the scheduled time. He had never done that, arrived early. Usually he was right on time, or a few minutes late, but Sara wasn't someone he wanted to keep waiting. Not when he had spent the entire day thinking about her and getting lost in the painting in his office.

In his dreams, he and Sara transported magically into the painting and lived most of their days there. Of

course, he'd have to come back to the real world in order to make money to survive, but he could see spending every spare minute in those lush lands, honoring Sara's body. At the thought of her body, a smile spread across his face. She was exactly what he wanted in a woman. Her ass was shapely - that was probably the first thing that attracted him even though he would never admit that to himself. And her pussy? She had been so warm and tight, he secretly hoped she would let him get that close to her again.

At exactly 7:30, the host directed Sara to his table. He didn't have to look up because he knew his limo

would be on time. As their eyes caught, he rose and walked toward her, willing himself to stay calm. Sara was so much prettier than the last time he saw her. The black dress she wore made her look like a goddess, and her shoes made her legs seem endless. He swallowed as he walked toward her. He couldn’t wait to hug her tight and hold her. His eyes caught hers again, and he knew the sparkle he saw in them was for him.

"Sara, you look lovely." He reached for her, unsure if he should hug her, kiss her, or shake her hand. Yes, they had shared an intimate moment in the heat of passion, but he didn't know how

comfortable she was with him displaying his emotions publicly, especially since the ever-lingering paparazzi would splatter her face on the evening news before they got home from the restaurant.

Sara made it easy for him; she turned her face, and he planted a kiss on her cheek. It wasn't what he wanted, but he was okay with it. Any closeness to her was sufficient.

"Is that all I get?" he whispered after giving her a kiss.

He could tell she wasn't sure what he was asking. Instead of repeating his question, he pulled her close to him and claimed her mouth, not caring who was looking. He felt his groin tighten, but he willed himself to say calm, hoping he would survive the few seconds of intimacy they shared without his cock embarrassing him. Other women he had dated hadn't stirred his animalistic instincts like Sara. Yes, he got excited when he saw them and responded adequately to their feminine seduction, but his inner beast had never arisen, until Sara walked into his life carrying his coffee.

Sara kissed him back, and he could feel her heart throbbing. She was truly his, no denying it. Now to dine her and see if he could convince her to get closer to him. "You do love kissing me," Sara said as the kiss ended. “I like it.”

"I do," Nick said. "But I guess I’ll have to force it out of you every time."

Sara smiled and sat down as the waiter pulled out a chair for her. Nick sat as well and picked up the menu. "I ordered some wine. You seem like a

red wine lover," Nick said, smiling suggestively. He already knew that fact about her from reading the report from his private investigator. Red wine and sushi were her weaknesses.

"Right again," Sara teased, smiling back.

The waiter, who was standing by within ear shot but didn't intrude on them, moved closer to their table and poured wine into Sara's glass.

"Thank you," she said as she

lifted the glass to her lips.

"A toast?" Nick asked.

"Oh yeah. Sorry. I don't dine out often." Sara returned the glass to the table.

"No need to apologize, Sara. You never have to apologize to me, ever."

"Hmmm... you might have to take those words back some day," Sara

said. “I can be mean sometimes.”

Nick looked at her keenly. Did she just allude to the possibility of something more than this dinner for them? He didn't want to think too much about her words, but he felt a sense of lightness. Maybe she did care for him as much as he cared for her.

"So, let's toast to..." Nick’s voice trailed off. His voice never waned when he talked to women, but Sara was not a regular girl.

"Friendship?" Sara completed his sentence.

"Friendship. The future. Us,” Nick said.

"Yes," Sara said. "To friendship and the future."

“Cheers,” they said as they clinked their glasses.

Nick noticed she didn’t say us, but he didn’t let it bother him. He had

sensed she was overly cautious about their budding relationship, and he wanted her to come around in her own time.

"What would you like to order?" Nick asked when they put their wine glasses down. "I'll try the house special," Sara said. “Whatever that may be.”

"Playing it safe?” he joked.

"I don't play it safe, which is why I ordered something I don't even

know about."

"That's true. I didn't think about it that way. Let's see if you can handle the suspense." He signaled to the waiter to come take their orders. "I'll have the house special as well."

"Have you been to this restaurant before?” Sara asked.

“Yes, a few times,” Nick replied. “Why?”

“Because you probably already know what the house special is. How is that taking a risk?"

"You don't know me," Nick said. "We need to do something about that."

"We do?" Sara asked.

Nick nodded. "Yeah, you need to know a few more things about me.”

“Like what?” Sara asked

teasingly.

“For one, I have been thinking about you all day. Secondly, I can’t stay still watching you. And lastly, I wish we could leave right now and go somewhere we could be alone, even if it’s just for a few hours.”

He watched Sara as she looked at him shyly, his focus on her lips. He hadn’t intended to make her uncomfortable, but he had done it again. She looked like a shy school girl, young, sexy, and innocent and totally turning him on. Those lips. He wanted so much

to reach across the table and kiss her fiercely, but that would embarrass her. Besides, he had already made enough show with her for the evening as it was.

“Well, that we can do, but only after I get my house special.”

"Waiter?” Nick beckoned to a waiter, who was nearby. “How fast can we get our dinner?”

SARA

The house special, a combination of seafood and veggies, arrived, and between the main course and dessert, I was stuffed and ready to leave the restaurant. “So, my invitation still stands,” Nick said with a wicked grin on his face. “What invitation?” I asked as if I didn’t know he wanted me to go home with him. “Disappearing with you somewhere private. I want you to come with me. Somewhere nice and relaxing.” I swallowed the words I would have normally said, which caught in my

throat. I couldn’t tell him I was not the sort of girl who slept with men on the first date because I had already slept with him before our first date. Instead of talking, I nodded. “Would you want to go?” he asked. “Yes,” I said, excited at the prospect of somewhere nice. I bet it was probably his penthouse. Isn’t that where men like him took the women they bedded? The thought of him taking me to the same place he took every girl he met made me feel dirty, but the idea of being with him again and feeling him inside of me superseded my reservations. “Then I’ll have the limo pick

you up tomorrow. We’ll be out of town for a few days.” “Tomorrow?” I asked, my eyes widening. “Is that okay?” he asked, looking at me. “We can stay in the city if you’d like.” “Yes, it’s fine,” I said. “It’s just that I have to pack, and since I don’t know where we’re going, packing will be challenging.” “No need to. I’ll have one of my assistants get what you’ll need. Of course you might want some of your personal stuff, but I’ll take care of the rest.”

I nodded. This was unreal. Someone was going to shop for me and pack my bag? I could get used to this billionaire lifestyle. “Thanks.” “My pleasure,” he said. He signaled to the waiter. Once he settled the check, he walked me outside to the limo that had brought me to the restaurant. “David will take you back,” he told me as he leaned against the limo and pulled me against him. “What about you? How will you get home?” He pointed to another limo on the opposite side of the street. I hadn’t

noticed it. “That’s my ride,” he said. “I won’t be stranded.” “Looks nice,” I commented. “Well, good night then.” He kissed me so quickly on the lips I could swear it had not happened. “I’ll see you in the morning?” he asked. “Yes,” I said. *** As usual, Amy was at my apartment when I got in. “So, what happened?” She was standing at the door. “Can I at least come in first?” I

asked. “Sure,” she said as she opened the door. “So how did it go?” “Very well,” I told her, pushing past her and walking to my bedroom. She would not give up until she got the response she needed from me. I smiled as I walked quickly away from her. She was hot on my trail. “Young lady, where do you think you’re going?” she said as she pulled me back. “Where else would I be going at this late hour? To bed.” “No way, Sara Nolles. Not until you tell me what you and Nick

Saunders were up to.” “Nothing. He’s taking me somewhere special tomorrow and that’s it.” “That’s all? You’re going to be locked away in some fancy hotel for days with his hot ass and you say that’s all? How many days are you staying?” Amy’s question made me realize I hadn’t asked Nick how long our trip would be. He hadn’t volunteered the information either, but I had a feeling he knew I was off work for a couple of days. He knew my every move, which should have made me uncomfortable. I was flattered, though, and had a gut feeling he would never hurt me.

“You don’t know, do you?” Amy asked, eyebrow raised. “I bet you were so excited to go frolicking with him you forgot to ask.” “Yes, ma’am.” I smiled at her as I pushed past her again. “I need to go to bed. I have an early day with a billionaire tomorrow.” “You do like him, don’t you?” Amy asked. “Yes, I do like him. A lot. Maybe more than a lot.” Amy looked at me suspiciously. “Oh my God, you love him, don’t you?” “I don’t know what you mean,”

I said with a secretive smile, but Amy had hit a raw nerve. I did, in fact, like Nick more than I should, but I wasn’t going to admit that. “You’re in love,” she sang in a childlike, annoying voice. “You’re in love.” “Stop, Amy,” I said, smacking her playfully on the arm. “I need to go to bed. See you later,” I said as I tried to close my bedroom door. “You’re not going to pack your things tonight?” “No, his staff will take care of all of that.” Amy groaned. “What?” I asked innocently.

“You sound stuck-up and you’re not even married to him yet,” she yelled after me. “Who said I was marrying him?” I asked as I closed my bedroom door for some peace. A few minutes later, I heard Amy grab a blanket from the closet in the hallway; she was sleeping on my couch tonight. She left me with some hard truth to think about. I was in love with Mr. Rich. Oh great! *** My doorbell rang at seven the next morning. Nick had sent the limo to retrieve me, and when I opened the door, he was standing there, dressed in a teeshirt and jeans.

“Hi. Good morning,” I stammered. “Hello, Sara. Ready?” “Sort of. I wasn’t expecting you. Thought you’d send David.” “I missed you,” he said and planted a kiss on my lips before I could reply. “I’ll wait for you in the limo if you prefer.” “No, here is fine,” I said, smarting from the unexpected kiss. “I’ll just grab my bag and we’ll be on our way. Amy’s sleeping on the couch, and if she wakes up, I don’t think she’ll let you go easily.” “In that case, let’s not wake her

up,” he whispered, smiling. “You look really nice.” I was wearing a plum sundress with a low neckline. It was one of my favorite outfits because the dress made my breasts perkier while slimming my waist and enhancing my ass. I always got compliments when I wore it, and Nick was no exception. However, his compliment seemed far more important than any other person’s did. “Thank you,” I said shyly as I reached behind me and grabbed the backpack I had packed the night before. On a second thought, I grabbed my passport before walking to the car with him. It took only a minute to settle into

the backseat with Nick and lean against him as if it was normal. He put his arm around my shoulders and drew me close. “You good?” he asked. I swallowed hard like I always did when he looked at me so intensely. I whispered, “Yes.” “Great, because I want you to relax and enjoy this trip.” I nodded. A sudden thought came to me. No one knew where I was going, not even Amy. “So where are we going?” I asked, smiling at him. “I just need the address so I can send it to Amy. She’s a mother hen. Don’t want her reporting me

as kidnapped.” “It’s good to have people who love you,” he said. “Give me your phone and I will text it to her. It’s a surprise for you, and I don’t want to ruin it by giving you the exact address.” I obliged him, my thoughts still on the word love he had just casually thrown at me. Yes, Amy loved me, and I understood what he meant, but he had said “people who love you.” Was he part of that group? I glanced at him as he texted Amy from my phone, doing his best to shield the phone from me so I didn’t know our destination. “I might need to call in to work,” I commented. “I have to let my

boss know I’ll be gone, but I need to know how long we’ll be gone.” “I already took care of that. They don’t expect you back for a few days.” “You called my boss?” I asked incredulously. Mr. Rich was rather presumptuous, and I didn’t know if I liked it. “Didn’t have to. I am friends with your boss, so I can have you all to myself for as long as you’re available.” I giggled. “Hope that gets you a free coffee next time you go there. I probably will get fired by the time I return and won’t be able to hook you

up.” “You’re probably right,” he said, smiling. “But you will always have a job offer from my company.” I looked out the window as we passed lush greenery. I had expected we were going out of town, but we seemed to be heading right into town, away from the suburbs. “Ordinarily, I would have said yes, but you can’t mix business with pleasure,” I teased. “It’s one or the other.” “It will be a pleasure to work with you,” he added. “Business or pleasure.”

“I have to think about that,” I said, giving him a naughty look. “Pleasure for sure.” “What’s there to think about? I think I’m charming, handsome…” “You are all that, which is why working with you would never work,” I said. He remained quiet for a few seconds as if he was thinking about my response. “Yes, it’ll be hard to keep my hands off you.” I admitted shyly, “Me too.” “We’re almost there,” Nick said, looking out the window. I followed his gaze; we were heading to the airport.

“Are we flying somewhere?” I asked as we took the exit for the airport. “Do you want to?” he teased. “As long as you’re not the one flying,” I giggled. “Afraid I’ll distract you.” “Very true,” he said seriously. “Fortunately, I’m not the pilot today, but someday I’ll take you on a private trip.” I smiled at him, tongue-tied. Nick was talking about us as if we had a future together, and I liked it. The driver drove past the departures section of the airport where I had assumed we would stop and turned at a sign that read independent planes.

We flying on a private jet? Nick seemed to have read my mind because he pointed to a private jet that read Saunders Empires on the side. “That’s our ride,” he said. “Was the best I could do on short notice.” “Are you serious?” I asked, my eyes widening. “This is more than enough.” “Nothing will ever be more than enough when it comes to you, Sara. I need you to remember that.” I nodded and leaned in to kiss him, but he was distracted as a car nearly ran into the limo.

“What in the world,” he mumbled, looking out his window at another limo that had driven past and parked in front of his private jet. He grunted. I looked at him but didn’t speak. Whoever was in that car was not someone he wanted to see. The driver pulled up next to the other limo just as the occupant of the car alighted. “Fucking unbelievable!” Nick swore as he saw a woman approaching his limo. The woman, dressed in a bodyhugging dress and walking towards us, was Olivia Newton, the girl he had kissed me in front of at the ball, the woman he seemed determined to avoid

in every way possible. “She is not supposed to be here,” Nick swore. “She just won’t quit.” I remained silent, conflicting thoughts running through my mind. Why was Olivia here? How did she know we were travelling today? Were she and Nick still dating and I was just a sidepiece? As I thought more and more about Olivia, a part of me grew angry, then jealous. “Excuse me, Sara. I’ll be right back,” Nick said in a firm but controlled voice. He was mad but was doing his best to control himself.

Before I could respond, he opened the door and took long strides towards the woman. This was going to be very interesting.

NICK Nick walked towards Olivia, anger boiling. Of all the times and places she had to show up, it was at this moment. Olivia had upset Sara before, and he didn’t want that happening again, especially since they were no longer a couple. He regretted the day he had

taken Olivia on a trip in his private jet. “Hello, Olivia,” he said as approached her. “How can I help you?” “Nick! I was hoping to see you here. Your secretary said you were going out of town. Need some company?” She tried to kiss him on the mouth, but he moved his head so the kiss landed on the cheek. He truly hoped Sara hadn’t seen that. “Did my secretary not tell you I had company already?” “Who? That girl? You’re still hanging out with her? You are certainly lowering your standards. Anyways, she told me you’re flying to your villa in Italy. I want to go with you.”

“Olivia, I’ve got all the company I need in that car over there. And I care about her, so please, you need to leave.” Olivia looked at Nick for a moment as if he wasn’t serious. Then she attempted to call his bluff and reached out to kiss him again. She got him on the lips. “Stop, Olivia,” he said, pushing her away. He glanced at the car, hoping Sara hadn’t seen that kiss either. However, she had seen it, because she’d opened the door of the limo, climbed out, and started walking away from the limo. “Sara? Hold on!” Nick called

as he left Olivia and ran after Sara.

SARA I understood Olivia was imposing herself on Nick, but he had not refused the kiss she gave him. From my vantage point in the limo, it seemed like he had enjoyed the kiss, which of course made a mockery of our young relationship, or the relationship I was beginning to think we had. I needed to get out of there fast, even if I had to walk. Once I got to the main airport, I could call a cab. Enough of the charade.

If Nick wanted Olivia, he could have her. I would leave him alone. Yes, my heart would break, but better now than much later. “Sara!” Nick yelled my name, but I wasn’t going to stop. “Please stop.” I heard him running to catch me, and I wanted to sprint just to get away from him. I was so focused on getting away from him, I stubbed my toe on a rock. “Fuck!” I swore as I doubled over to hold my big toe, which had hit the rock and was throbbing like crazy. “Shit. Shouldn’t have worn sandals.” “Sara,” Nick said as he

reached me. “Hang on.” Of course, I was going to hang on; there was nowhere else to go with a sore toe. He was by my side in a few seconds, and before I knew what was happening, he had swept me off the ground as if I was made of paper. “What are you doing? Put me down,” I said, annoyed because he was treating me like a baby and upset at him for the kiss he had just shared with Olivia. “I just hurt my toe. I didn’t break my leg.” “I know,” he said, “but I don’t want to risk you running off on a sore toe. I need to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“Why should it matter to you what happens to my toe?” I frowned. “Can you please put me down?” “What do you think, Sara? That I would put you down and let you hurt yourself more? No, not happening. Why do you think I care what happens to you?” I knew the answer to his question: he liked me a lot, but that didn’t discount the fact that his ex had hunted him down to his private jet. If she knew all that information about him, wasn’t she a potential threat to me? I decided to remain silent. “I’m sorry you had to see Olivia being Olivia. She is my ex. She

cheated on me, and it’s been over for years. She just likes to cause trouble occasionally. I will put her back in her place once and for all, I promise,” he said, his eyes pleading with me. I believed him, but I didn’t want to make this easy for him. If he truly wanted us to have a chance at a relationship, then Olivia had to truly be an ex. “Can you forgive what you saw?” I looked at him, his eyes tender. I could never hold anything against him. “Please?” he begged. “It will never happen again.” I knew Nick hardly begged, but in the space of the few days I had known

him, he’d had to say please more times than he had all his life. I nodded. Yes, I could probably forgive him for everything. Olivia walked up to us, and she didn’t look too happy. In the moment Nick and I shared, I had forgotten she was there. “Will you look at that? Nick, forever a gentleman,” Olivia said, her voice filled with disdain. “Hello,” I muttered to her. I didn’t really want to speak to her, but it would be just plain rude to walk by her, no, rather, be carried by her billionaire ex-boyfriend past her, and not say a word. Nick ignored her comment and

continued to his private jet. David had noticed the dilemma and rushed from the car. “May I help you, sir?” he asked, referring to helping him carry me. “No, I can manage,” Nick said, frowning. Of course, he could manage. Mr. Rich had so many muscles I probably weighed nothing to him. “Yes, sir,” David said as he moved to the side. “Should I get the luggage?” “Yes. Thank you,” Nick answered. He had reached his jet, which was open and waiting for him. His pilot, a tall, lanky man, greeted him and asked

him if he could help. Nick again rejected his offer but when he attempted to carry me up the stairs of the plane, it quickly dawned on him that it was dangerous, so he set me down. “Can you walk?” he asked gently. “I didn’t break anything. Of course I can walk.” Nick still held my hand, supporting my weight. “Take it slow. One step at a time.” I wanted to giggle at the ridiculousness of his behavior; he was treating me like a child. As I put weight on my foot, I realized he was right.

“Ouch,” I gasped as I felt as sharp pain rip through my toe. “Take it easy,” he said gently. I nodded and took another step, more gently. It didn’t hurt as much. I took a couple more steps and soon I was in the plane. “Nice.” The words escaped my mouth involuntarily, my hurting toe forgotten. Nice was actually an understatement for the sight before me – posh, cream leather reclining chairs, dark brown, soft carpet, cherry wood trimmings, marble, crystal, chandeliers, flat screen TVs – the jet looked like a five-star hotel lounge.

“Thanks,” Nick said. “Now let’s look at your toe. Sit here.” He led me to a couch and sat next to me. “Are you comfortable?” I nodded. “Good. Lay back and let me see your toe,” he said as he helped me lie back. He took off the sandal and placed my foot on his knee. “Doesn’t look too bad.” “You’re kidding me, Nick.” Olivia had followed us into the plane. “Shouldn’t one of your chauffeurs take her home or to the hospital or wherever. What the fuck are you doing?” “Taking care of my woman,” Nick told her, the look on his face serious. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Olivia didn’t immediately respond, but the look on her face said it all. She was so mad at Nick and at me, she would have punched us if she could have. I looked at Nick, the phrase ‘my woman’ swimming in my head. I was his woman! “Well, good luck to you. And here’s a keepsake for you, you asshole!” she yelled as she yanked a necklace off her neck, threw it at Nick, and walked off the plane. The necklace fell to the floor with a thud. It looked very much like the necklace Nick had given me. I had been right; he gave everyone the same exact necklace. Mine was not an exception. It

was no more special than the one Olivia had tossed on the floor. I looked at him and then at the necklace. I should have done the same thing with the necklace he had given me days ago. I felt stupid sitting in his plane, my legs on his knee, a duplicate necklace he had given me flung to the floor by his bitchy ex. This was not good at all. “I have to go,” I said abruptly. I tried to stand but fell back on the chair as pain tore through my toe. “No, wait, Sara. I can explain.” “No, Nick. I don’t think I’m ready for this. With the kiss from the ex and the necklace you gave me and

insisted on me wearing a copy of your ex’s? What sort of game are you playing?” “What? You’re jumping to conclusions, Sara.” “I may be, but at least I’m not deceiving you,” I said as I scrambled to get up from the chair and finally succeeded. “You need to hang on for one sec.” “Nick. I’m not ready for all this. This is nice, the private jet, the dinner, and every other thing money can offer, but I don’t want to lose myself or my morals.”

“What are you talking about?” Nick asked hotly. I was overstepping my boundaries. Nick Saunders was a powerful man, and I had to tread carefully. Besides, I was in the middle of nowhere, on his property, and he was in charge. I needed to keep that in mind. I stood next to him but without heels on, I reached his shoulders, if at all. I felt like a child in front of a bear. “You really want to know? Do me a last favor, Nick, and pick up that necklace?” I dared. I bet he wouldn’t touch it, would call one of his servants who was probably within earshot to come and pick it up. But I needed to

prove a point. Without hesitation, he picked up the necklace Olivia had dropped on the floor and lay it on the table next to us. I hobbled over to my backpack and retrieved the goddamned jewelry box I had been carrying around for weeks. I pulled out the necklace and put it next to Olivia’s. They were identical. “How do you explain this?” I asked. “You told me mine was unique, and yeah, maybe I shouldn’t have believed you, but I liked you enough to want more from you, from us.” I fought to stop the tears welling in my eyes. I hated crying, especially in front of a man. Certainly not in front of Nick. I

couldn’t let him see how much I had grown to like him in the space of just a few days, and how much he could hurt me. After my ex, I had sworn that no other man would hurt me the way he had. But I was in the same place, being lied to and getting hurt again. Would I ever learn? “Sit,” Nick commanded. I sat without questioning, my tears and hurt quickly forgotten. I looked at him but couldn’t hold the intensity of his gaze. He was very upset. He pulled a magnifying glass out of a nearby drawer and gave it to me. I took it. I couldn’t afford to make him any more upset if I wanted to get out of there. He flipped

both necklaces and pointed to an inscription on Olivia’s necklace. “Read.” I placed the magnifier where his finger was resting and read the inscription. “Diamond Jewelries Gifts 2015.” “Glad you can read,” he snapped, then pointed to an inscription on the one he had given me. “Read.” I moved the magnifier to the inscription and read out aloud. “To Caroline, the woman of my dreams. 1935.” For all the weeks I had possessed that necklace, I had not

noticed that inscription. In my own defense, I would never have noticed the inscription without a magnifier, and he knew that. I looked at him, then at the necklaces again. They looked the same except the inscription. I realized after some thought that the one he had given me was a family heirloom, but that didn’t explain Olivia’s necklace. “Is that all you can see?” he asked as he pointed to my necklace. I placed the magnifier over the inscription again. “Susan. Cathy. Who are these women?” I asked, not sure what to think. More of his girlfriends? “Caroline was my greatgrandmother, Susan my grandmother,

Cathy, my mom.” “So?” I asked, still confused. “So the men in our family traditionally pass on this family heirloom to the women they marry,” he said. “So I’ve been holding on to your family treasure for weeks? What if I’d lost it?” My heart sank because my anger was unjustified. “I knew you wouldn’t. I took a risk that it would eventually end up on your neck, but I might have acted too hastily. If you had lost it, it would have been my fault. When I first saw you, I knew we would end up together,” he

said, his tone softening, his eyes watching me intensely. I felt like the ground was slipping away from me. He wanted to marry me? Without even getting to know me? I looked at the necklaces again. “So what’s with Olivia’s?” I asked, pointing at the necklace that was a perfect copy of his mother’s. “Apparently, she knew our family tradition, and when she got it into her head that we would get married, she had a duplicate made. I guess it was her way of making people believe we were together. I couldn’t get her to take it off, and frankly I didn’t care what she did until today when she overstepped her

boundaries.” “So were you two ever engaged?” I asked. “No. We dated briefly. She cheated on me, and we both moved on. I would never marry someone like her.” His deep brown eyes told me he was telling the truth. I picked up the necklace. This did not make sense. A few minutes ago, we were just taking a trip together, nothing serious, but now he was proposing to me? Or not. I was totally confused. “Is this really worth a million?” I asked. He shook his head. “A little

more.” “How much more?” I asked. “Try adding a couple of zeros at the end of the million,” he grinned. I nodded as I handed him the necklace. We were standing so close to each other. I closed my eyes in anticipation of his lips, but to my disappointment, he simply touched my lips, causing me to open my eyes. “Come with me,” he said as he led me to the couch. I wanted to kick myself for being so gullible. “Your toe,” he said. “How does it feel?” I had forgotten my toe hurt, and the adrenaline rush from the past few

minutes had certainly numbed the pain. “I’m fine.” “Good, because I have to show you around the plane,” he said, getting up and holding my hands. “Come with me?” I had also forgotten we were in a plane, scheduled to depart soon. As we passed the stairs, his pilot asked if he could get ready for departure. “Yes, please,” he said without stopping. I hobbled up the stairs, one at a time until we were upstairs in a bedroom. “Wow,” I said. The bedroom looked like a hotel room, a nice hotel

room in a five-star hotel. “I didn’t know planes had bedrooms.” “Well, where else am I going to show you how much I care about you?” I swallowed hard at his implication, and butterflies circled my stomach. I needed a distraction. “What about Olivia?” “She’s history. She knows never to come near you unless you want her to,” he said as we moved to the edge of the bed. “Amy? Does she know where I am?” I asked. “Yes, she knows you’re here

with me, right now.” He had pulled so dangerously close to me, I could feel his heartbeat against mine. “Except we’ll let her guess what we’re doing.” “And what are we doing?” I asked, grinning. “Patience, my love,” he said. “Do you want to know where we’re going?” “Yes, but I’m guessing you won’t tell me.” “You’ll have to wait.” “It’s not fair,” I said. “Maybe not, but you made me wait for days for a first date. More like

you made me trick you to get a date out of you,” he exclaimed. “Did you expect me to jump into bed with you just because you came in for a cup of coffee?” I giggled. “No, but I was hoping you’d be a lot nicer to me than you were. This is payback time,” he said as he pushed me onto the bed. I could hear the engine of the plane roaring as the pilot prepared the plane for departure. Nick fell into bed with me, pinning me on it. “We’re about to leave,” I said, trying to wiggle out from under him and giggling.

“Yes, I noticed,” he said as he held me down. His lips descended on mine. I kissed him intensely, as if I was afraid he might disappear if I stopped. Soon the plane started moving and jerking us around. “I think we need to strap in for departure,” he said as he pulled me up from the bed. We walked to a set of seats next to the bed, sat down, and buckled our seatbelts just as the pilot announced for everyone to take their seats and fasten their seatbelts. I looked at Nick and could see a smile curving his face. This was unreal. How did we go from fighting in a

coffee shop to feeling so in love in a short span of time? The thought of love made me pause and take a second look at him. I loved Nick. I had a lot to learn about him, but I loved him. I reached out to stroke his face and pulled him closer to me so I could plant another kiss on his face. He put my hands on his groin and let me touch him. “That’s what you do to me,” he giggled as I squeezed his hard cock. “Pity we’re strapped in these chairs. I could help you out,” I teased. “Oh trust me, I’ll make you keep your word,” he said, kissing me again.

The plane started ascending and soon it was stable enough to remove our seatbelts. “Now, what was that you promised me?” Nick asked as he pulled me out of my chair and we headed back to the bed. “What do you want?” I asked innocently. “More than anything in the whole world?” he asked. “Yes,” I said. He made me sit on the edge of the bed and pulled out the necklace. “You really do want me to have this necklace?” “More than anything in the

world,” he said as he got on one knee. At first, I was confused by what he was doing; then it dawned on me that he was making a commitment to me. “Sara, I’ve loved you since I met you in the coffee shop. Would you please be my woman?” he asked, holding the necklace in anticipation of placing it around my neck. I looked at him, joy filling me. “Depends on if the necklace goes with my complexion.” “Let’s see,” he said as he unclasped the necklace and placed it around my neck. I touched it and smiled.

“Looks perfect.” “I think it works for me,” I teased as I touched my neck. “Yes!” Nick said. “Is that a yes?” “Well, you hold me captive in your private jet, present me with a family heirloom, you love me, I love you…so…” Nick didn’t wait to hear the last of my sentence; he jumped on me and we landed flat on the bed again. “Thank you, Sara. I’ll never disappoint you,” he said, kissing me. “I plan not to either,” I said, grinning. “Now, tell me where we’re

going.” “If you promise you’ll bear my children so we can pass that necklace on to them,” Nick said. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know about our destination.” “Okay, I will have children with you, Nick Saunders. Lots of them,” I said, laughing. This was too good to be true. Was it all a dream? “In that case, I’ll be truthful. I had no plans, really. I know the plane is supposed to have a flight map and all that, but we’re just circling the sky. The pilot is waiting for you to confirm our destination.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “You have no plans? So what did you text to Amy?” “I told her I was going to ask you to officially be my woman today.” “You’re crazy,” I said, giggling, “but I like that.” “I’m in love,” Nick said. “That allows me to be as crazy as I want.” “So, you will go anywhere in the world I want to go to?” “Yes, my love. Anywhere.” “Fiji Islands?” I said. “I’ve always dreamed of going to Fiji.” “Is that what you want?” Nick

asked. I nodded. He picked up a telephone next to the bed and pushed a number. “Fiji. Please inform the staff at the villa that I have Sara with me,” he said into the phone and hung up. “Your staff in Fiji know I exist?” “Everyone that is important is aware that my future bride might be on this plane with me today and they are ready to serve you.” “And I’m guessing you own a villa in Fiji?” I asked. “A little more than a villa. More like a part of the island.” “Okay, this is crazy, but I’m so

happy.” “You know what would make me happy?” he asked, pinning me down again. “Should I take a wild guess?” “Please do.” “Fucking you?” I said shyly. “I love it when you talk so vulgar,” Nick said. “Yes, fucking me would help. You did make me a promise to take care of me.” “I did, and I always keep my word. Now, please take off your pants,” I said, smiling as I tugged at his pants, which were straining from his hard on.

He didn’t need to be asked twice; we quickly tore our clothing off until we were both naked. “You know, I should have made you mine years ago. We have a lot of years of catching up to do,” he said as he pulled me in for a long kiss. I smiled as I kissed him back, his cock digging into my hip, my pussy wet and ready. “Well, now you can make me yours,” I teased. “Oh, trust me. I intend to take every part of you,” Nick giggled as he pulled me closer; instead of his lips touching mine, he went lower, leaving

butterfly kisses on my neck. He had pinned me down, but I intended to reverse that as I struggled playfully under him until I was on top of him and he was lying on his back. “That’s great, but my turn,” I said as I smiled at him and kissed him so briefly before starting a trail of kisses from his neck down toward his belly button. I could feel him shiver slightly and moan as my mouth dangerously approached his cock. I had never done this before, thus his excitement assured me I was doing it right. I cradled him in my hand, and his moans got even louder as I played with him. “Sara. Please.” His voice was

hoarse. “Please what?” I teased. “Please,” he moaned. I ignored the moan, enjoying the feeling of power I had over Mr. Rich at that moment, but his moans got louder and he started massaging my head and gently pushing me down so my lips were close to his hardness. I smiled and ended his misery by taking him into my mouth. I wasn’t prepared for his wide, warm, and hard cock, but as I got more comfortable with the feel of him, I relaxed and started sucking and licking up and down his shaft. He grunted and moaned with every touch of my lips and hands, and I grew bolder with each moan, sucking

him faster, licking him harder, and massaging his girth so hard and fast I knew it was only a matter of time before he came. “Sara,” he murmured. “You’re so good.” I lifted my head from his hardness and looked at him, but in that moment, he got up and flipped us so he was on top. “Not fair,” I giggled as I wiggled underneath him. “My turn.” We playfully struggled for a few moments, and I managed to get on top again. I straddled him until his hardness was in the right spot and his

hands supported my waist. “You are so beautiful,” he said as he helped me position myself on him. I slowly lowered my body until my pussy engulfed his hardness. I started slow and steady, supporting myself by holding his shoulders as I took his hardness in one inch at a time, allowing my body to adjust to his fullness, and soon I had his whole length in me. I moaned once his hard cock was inside me. He held me up as I started riding him steadily up and down. He pulled me down so that our lips touched, his kiss fierce. I continued riding him, kissing him, and holding him tight as he guided

me on his cock. I moaned even louder than he did as I began to feel an orgasm bubble in me. His grunts deepened and quickened; he was near the finish as well. “Nick,” I whispered as the first wave of orgasm hit me. “Yes, love,” Nick grunted as he pushed faster into me. I knew he was just a few seconds away from coming. Then the waves started coming in succession and building in intensity. I curled up my feet as warmth burst inside of me as the final wave of orgasm hit me. “I love you.” “I love you more than you’ll

ever know,” Nick said just as he spewed his warm cum into me. Our romance had been short and fierce and we had fallen so quickly in love, it was scary. I had always thought I would date forever before I committed to one man, but I’ve always known that it’s not the length of the dating that mattered but the quality of the relationship. Nick and I were starting strong, and there was so much more about each other that we needed to learn. I was confident we would grow as a couple, and as the days passed, our relationship would strengthen. I touched the necklace that now lay on my neck and smiled. I

imagined the next time I read the inscription, Sara would be inscribed next to the other women who had stolen the hearts of Saunders men before Nick. My life was complete.

*** THE END ***

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