“You know…” I looked up at the wall when we got into the living room. “I think instead of replacing the Monet, I want to put something else there.”
“Oh?” Taylor raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“I’m thinking—a new artist.” I nodded. “It looks like a good place for my first Taylor Abernathy.”
“You’ve never even seen my work.” She laughed and shook her head.
“Then I guess you better show it all to me—that way I can figure out which one I want to buy.” I shrugged and chuckled under my breath.
“It’s really over…” Taylor moved closer to me.
“Yes.” I kissed her forehead. “Which means the two of us can pick up where we left off the last time we were in here…”
“I wish we could, but Victoria will be here soon.” Taylor looked up at me. “She asked me to text her once you arrived—I can’t put it off all night.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “I guess you’re right—she probably does want to celebrate.”
“You and I can celebrate later tonight…” Taylor put her hand on my thigh and teased me with a touch.
“Text Victoria—the faster we get that part of the evening over with, the faster we can have our own celebration.” I kissed Taylor’s neck and pressed my lips to her ear. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she moaned and finally broke away from our embrace to pick up her cell phone.
Taylor and I made out for a few minutes, and then discussed a few things about our relationship while we waited on Victoria. She wanted to come clean with her mother, and I agreed that it was the right thing to do. I still needed to tell the rest of my family—I hoped they would react as well as Victoria had. Taylor was a part of my world regardless, and I wasn’t going to let anything come between us again. Our relationship was nearly derailed before it could truly begin, but we had the rest of our lives to make up for it.
All that matters, is that she’s in my arms now—and that’s where she’s going to stay.
Epilogue
Taylor
Three months later
The police arrested Aidan Devereaux within a few days of the story breaking—the District Attorney just had to figure out which charges he deserved for his part in everything that happened in Carson Cove. Alexis tried to run—which wasn’t that surprising. She hid out in the city with a friend for a few weeks, but she was finally arrested when she got into an argument with an employee at a coffee shop because her order wasn’t right. Someone in the crowd recognized her, and it didn’t take the police long to show up.
There was a mountain of evidence against her, and lives that had been destroyed by the Devereaux siblings, but she still managed to cut a deal with the District Attorney. Ten years in a white collar prison that was basically a resort wasn’t nearly enough for everything she had done, but at least she was gone. The deal, of course, was to testify against her brother—which she turned into a performance that could have earned her an Emmy. If I didn’t know how much of a venomous, manipulative bitch she was, I might have believed it myself. Aidan got forty years in a federal prison—with no possibility of parole. He would be an old man before he ever saw the light of day—if he lived that long.
“This is hardly justice…” Bryant sighed and shook his head as we watched the sentencing on the news.
“No, but she’s gone.” I shrugged. “A lot of people are sleeping easier in Carson Cove right now knowing that the blackmail she had against them is gone.”
“Your sister’s boyfriend deleted it all, right?” Bryant narrowed his eyes. “He seems like a good kid, but that kind of power can be tempting…”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I watched it myself. As soon as we decided what to send to the television station, the rest of it was wiped out—permanently.”
“Good…” Bryant kissed my forehead. “Oh, I’ve got a surprise for you—we got distracted by the news story—come with me.”
“A surprise?” I raised an eyebrow as he stood and helped me to my feet.
“Yep.” Bryant led me down the hall—to a familiar room—one that we shared a moment of passion in during the midst of Alexis’ tyranny.
“What is this?” I blinked in surprise as he opened the door.
“Since you’re going to be spending a lot of time here, I thought you should have your own art studio.” She walked into the room and turned back towards me. “It might be a little more comfortable than painting in your bedroom.”
“Oh my god…” I smiled and hugged him. “This is—amazing!”
“That’s not all.” He hugged me, and then pulled away. “I’ve got one more surprise…”
Bryant presented me with a card—it was an invitation—to an art show at Wellington’s. My eyes nearly bulged out of my head when I realized that my name was the featured attraction. Bryant explained that a few of his friends had seen the painting in his living room—and demanded to know who the artist was. They were able to show enough interest for Mr. Wellington to come to him with a proposal for an art show—as long as I agreed not to sell anything until the next annual auction. Mr. Wellington was sure that people would be salivating to own one of them by then.
“I don’t even know if I have enough paintings for an art show…” I stared at the invitation in disbelief.
“Then you better get started immediately.” He motioned to the canvas. “You’ve got a few months until the show, and then you can figure out what you want to sell at the auction.”
“What if they hate them?” I felt a lump rising up in my throat. “I gave you the best one…”
“They’re amazing.” He pulled me into his arms. “Just like you…”
* * *
Six months later
“Taylor, can you come into the living room for a minute?” My mother called out to me as I was walking towards the door.
“Yeah?” I stopped in my tracks and turned towards the door
“Don’t go anywhere…” She stood up and walked through the door on the opposite side of the room.
She called me in here to—wait?
“Hey there…” A voice from behind startled me—a voice I knew as well as my own.
“Bryant?” I turned around and tried to hide the confusion on my face. “What are you doing here? I was just on my way to your place…”
“I wanted to do this here—well, after I talked to your mom, of course.” He smiled.
“Do—what?” I tilted my head inquisitively.
Before I even realized what was happening, Bryant dropped down to one knee and pulled a square box out of his pocket. My head started spinning, and I barely even heard his proposal. He opened the box and revealed a beautiful diamond solitaire. I stumbled over my words as I tried to say—anything. Bryant went from smiling to slightly concerned as I mumbled my way towards the one word that mattered.
“I—yes!” I nodded quickly.
“I thought you were going to reject me there for a minute.” A look of relief swept over his face as he slid the diamond on my ring finger and stood.
“I’m sorry!” I hugged him. “You caught me off guard!”
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if you saw it coming.” My mother walked into the room—followed by Anna—and someone else…
“Dad!?” I nearly fell over in shock.
“I couldn’t propose without talking to your family.” Bryant squeezed my hand. “I’m a bit old-fashioned, I suppose.”
“How are you?” I pulled away from Bryant and hugged my father. “Wait—is this okay?”
I don’t think my parents have been in the same room with each other since he left…
“We had a lot to discuss.” My mother nodded. “But he’s still your dad.”
Both of my parents knew about Bryant. I came clean with my mother shortly after the ordeal with Alexis. She was surprised, but after we talked about it, she said she would support me. Bryant and I visited my dad in the city a few weeks later, and he was hesitant to accept the re
lationship, but he knew Bryant was a good man. Apparently, something had happened between that visit and Bryant’s proposal, because they were both smiling—and demanding to see my ring.
“Hold on, let me get a look at it first.” Anna pulled my hand towards her and grinned. “Wow, it’s beautiful!”
“Victoria helped me pick it out—she said her best friend deserved the best.” Bryant chuckled. “Obviously, I agree with that…”
We were officially engaged, which meant that a wedding was in our future, and I had a lot of planning to do before graduation. Somewhere between finishing school and making plans for my wedding, I had to find time to paint. My art show was a resounding success—and I didn’t think I was going to have enough paintings to meet the demand for my work—especially if Bryant kept snatching up the good ones.
“So, are you actually going to be able to take time off for the honeymoon?” I tilted my head inquisitively towards Bryant.
“Yes, I think Benson Enterprises can manage for a few days.” He laughed and nodded.
“A few days…” I shook my head back and forth. “Could we try for a week?”
“I’ll have to see if Cassie can fit something in…” He pulled me in for another hug. “I’m sure we can figure something out. Things are back to normal now, and most of my old employees have returned—they should be able to survive for a week without me.”
I peeked at my engagement ring over Bryant’s shoulder while he hugged me. I never imagined our relationship would ever make it that far when we were sneaking around, but things had worked out quite well for us after we got past the challenges. I was looking forward to my life with him—there was no doubt in my mind that we would be happy. We had even discussed adding to the Benson family down the road, and that was going to be on the horizon sooner than I realized.
Hopefully he still remembers how to change diapers…
Daddy’s Best Friend: Sneak Peek
Chrissy
“Are you…” The man in front of me looked down at his sign, which had my name written on it with a black marker. “Christina Banks?”
“Yes.” I nodded and tilted my head slightly. “Are you—Mr. Foster?”
He doesn’t look like the guy my mother described—but it’s been a while I guess…
“No. My name is John.” He shook his head back and forth. “I’m just here to pick you up. I’ll take your bags.”
“Thank you.” I handed him the duffel bag that was hanging on my shoulder and took a step back so that he could pick up my luggage.
I didn’t have much with me. I certainly didn’t pack eighteen years of my life into a suitcase and a duffel bag. I brought the essentials, and the rest of my things were supposed to arrive in a few days. I still wasn’t bringing everything that I owned from Chicago to Los Angeles, but I hoped I would have enough to make it through my first semester of college at the University of Southern California. It was my father’s alma mater, and I had been planning to spend my college years there since I was a little girl—I just didn’t expect to run into the complications that arose after I got a scholarship for everything except room and board.
“How far is it to Mr. Foster’s house?” I followed John outside and waited as he loaded my things into the trunk of a black sedan parked by the curb.
“In this traffic?” He slammed the trunk and put his hands on his hips. “It’ll take us about an hour to get there.”
“Okay.” I nodded and walked around to the side of the car.
John opened the back door and closed it once I was seated. The car was really nice. I had never been driven before—by an actual driver. My mother said that Mr. Foster was well off, which was why he was in a position to help, but she didn’t tell me that he was rich enough to have his own driver. I hoped he was as nice as she said because I was still nervous about living with someone I didn’t know. It was a temporary arrangement, and she vouched for him, but he was still a stranger to me. I knew him by name—and vaguely remembered him stopping by when I was younger—but I didn’t really know him.
“So, have you been working for Mr. Foster very long?” I leaned forward and tried to make conversation once the car pulled onto the highway.
“A few years.” John nodded. “He’s a good boss.”
“Cool…” I leaned back in my seat—I really couldn’t think of anything else to ask him.
Mr. Foster—or Greyson, as my mother called him—was my father’s best friend. I was really excited when I got accepted to USC, but when I realized that my scholarship wasn’t going to cover anything outside of my educational expenses, I thought I was out of luck. My father left us with a little bit of money after he passed, but there was no way that my mother could afford to pay for me to live in California.
She saw how disappointed I was when I realized that my dream was about to fizzle out and decided to ask Mr. Foster for help. I hoped he would help me get an apartment and cover a couple of months of rent until I could get a job—instead, he offered to let me live with him while I was going to school. I didn’t want to be a charity case, but it was an amazing offer—one that I couldn’t really turn down. I still hoped that I would be able to get my own place after I got a job, but I was overwhelmed by his generosity.
“I don’t think Mr. Foster is home from work yet, but your bedroom should be ready.” John pulled the car up to a large iron gate and used a remote to open it.
“That’s…” My eyes nearly bulged out of my head as I stared at the mansion ahead of us. “That’s his house?”
“He’s got a few.” John chuckled. “But yes—this is where he lives.”
I couldn’t help being a little jealous when the car came to a stop in front of Mr. Foster’s mansion. It was clear that being a sports agent in Los Angeles was a lot more lucrative than Chicago. My father barely left us with enough to get by—Mr. Foster was living in the lap of luxury. I followed John into the house, and he led me to a bedroom at the top of a large spiral staircase. I had to blink a couple of times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. It was certainly better than what I was used too. The room was nearly as big as the house I grew up in, and it appeared that I had my own bathroom—I was used to sharing a half-bath with my sister and fighting over the mirror in the morning was a daily battle.
“If you need anything, you can hit the red button on your telephone.” John motioned to a phone that was sitting next to the bed.
“Who does that call?” I raised my eyebrows inquisitively.
“Mr. Foster has an assistant named Lauren who takes care of everything. If you need something, she’ll handle it.” He nodded quickly. “If you need to go somewhere, she’ll call me.”
“Oh wow, okay.” I blinked in surprise.
John left me alone in my new bedroom, and I decided to start unpacking. The walk-in closet was enormous, and I certainly didn’t have enough stuff to fill it. I could have stacked all of the boxes that were on the way to Los Angeles in the back corner of the closet and still had room to do cartwheels. There was a large dresser that looked more like a wardrobe. All of the socks and underwear I owned would fit in one of the drawers. I probably wouldn’t have needed more than two to hold all of the socks and underwear I had ever owned. The bed was king sized and even bigger than the one in my mother’s bedroom. I wondered if it was a California King. They were supposed to be bigger than regular ones—and I was in California.
I should take a few pictures and send them to my sister. Lorrie is going to be so freaking jealous.
I pulled out my phone, snapped a few panoramic shots, and then walked into the bathroom. There was a large whirlpool tub that reminded me of a Jacuzzi, and two shower heads. The sink was a large oval basin that I could have fit in if I curled up in a ball, and the mirror covered the entire wall behind it. There were also lights on the side of the mirror, which—unfortunately, made me realize I had a couple of blackheads that needed to be handled. I didn’t even notice them when I was getting ready that morning. The mirror made the blackhea
ds stand out so much that I dug into my purse and grabbed my makeup so I could add an extra layer to hide them until I had time to properly handle the problem.
Now what? I guess I could explore the rest of the house…
I walked downstairs and started looking around. The first room I came to appeared to be a library. There was a large oak desk in the middle of the room and more books than I thought anyone could read in one lifetime. I saw some pictures on the wall and walked over to get a better look. I had to assume the guy that appeared in all of them was Greyson Foster. He was—hot. My sister remembered him a lot better than I did, and she mentioned that he was attractive, but that was an understatement. He was standing next to a celebrity from movies or sports in almost every picture, and he looked like he was the star.
He knows a lot of famous people…
In the middle of all the celebrities was a picture of Mr. Foster with my father. Seeing my father’s face was enough to make my eyes tear up. I was only five years old when he passed away. Most of the memories I had of him were stories that other people had told me. I was so young when he passed that I didn’t have many of my own. My father was a little older than Mr. Foster, but not by much. My father just didn’t take good care of himself—and he had a few vices, although most people didn’t mention those when they talked about how great he was. I missed him, even though I didn’t get a chance to really get to know him.
Forbidden Kiss: Carson Cove Scandals Page 20
