When she first moved in with him, she and Cory were in a small but chic bungalow in Agoura Hills, just outside the Los Angeles city limits. But their search for the perfect place had led them here, to Calabasas, where their neighbors were other famous musicians, actors, comedians, and athletes. They had lived together in this beautiful home for over two years and had made so many wonderful memories here. Was she really about to leave all of it behind now?
Crossing the room to the pale marble fireplace, she picked up a platinum picture frame from the mantle and began to study the photograph inside of it. It was her favorite picture of the two of them. A candid color shot taken on their wedding day – her eyes were closed as he sweetly kissed her forehead, and the smile on her lips was so peaceful and content. That was how she had felt that day. Peaceful and content. Like all was right in their perfect little world. What she wouldn't give to feel that way right now. But instead, her insides felt like jelly and she could hardly stand the constant ache in her heart. She wanted to feel Cory's arms around her right now. To smell him and feel his heart beating so close to hers. To feel safe and protected. Loved. Cherished.
How had things gone so horribly wrong so quickly? Was this picture really taken only a few short months ago? She hated thinking of her and Cory as one of those typically Hollywood couples who couldn't seem to make a marriage last for longer than a few weeks, but here they were. Barely married three months and already headed for divorce.
Donna shuddered as she held the photo in her hands. She had really used that word, hadn't she? And he had looked so hurt as he walked out the door. This wasn't really happening, was it? She clutched the picture frame to her chest as she slowly sank down to the floor and dissolved into a puddle of tears. Her body was wracked with small tremors as she sobbed loudly, and the teardrops landed on the glass of the frame in her hands. She wanted to die. She wanted to curl up into a tiny ball and hide from the pain. From the world. She would give anything if they could just go back to the way things were.
She sat there in tears for the longest time, trying in vain to get a hold of herself and pull it together. She knew that she couldn't stay there wallowing in her grief forever; she had an appointment to keep. Taking a few unproductive, unsteady breaths, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and sighed. She had to get up off the floor. She had to check herself in the mirror and blow her nose. She had to pull herself together long enough to keep her appointment at the attorney's office. She had no choice.
Gently, she ran her fingertips over the image of Cory's handsome face, remembering how he always freely told her he loved her. She loved him so much. How could it really be over now? How had they made such a mess of things? She placed her hand on her tummy, lightly caressing the tiny bump she felt there. “I'm sorry, little one,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry we failed you.” And as the words left her lips, she was overcome with tears once again, sobbing like only someone with a broken heart can.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Cindy Devlin said as she rushed to her daughter's side. She knelt down beside her and wrapped her arms around her, cradling her sweetly, rocking her gently to and fro. “It's going to be alright, honey. I know it may not seem like it right now. But I promise you, it will all be alright in the end, my precious girl. Everything will work itself out, you'll see.” She continued to speak softly to her, offering empty reassurances for Donna to cling to. “Come on, Donna. You can't stay on the floor, honey,” she said finally. “Come on. Let's get you up.”
Donna stood on shaky legs, grateful for her mother's presence. She had no clue what she would have done if her mom hadn't been here. She helped her to pull herself back together, brushing her hair and making Donna wash her face. And when Donna was presentable again, she helped her out of the house and into the waiting car.
“Thank you for coming with me, Mom,” she said softly. “I know you're going to wait in the lobby but … I don't think I could get through today without you.”
*****
They sat in a cold, sterile meeting room made of mahogany wood and chrome accents, and Cory's heart felt as numb and paralyzed as their surroundings. He was so dazed by it all, he wasn't even sure how he had gotten there. He remembered nothing about the drive over, or even walking into the building. In fact, he remembered very little about anything after Donna had uttered the D word. How long ago had that been? A week? A few days? A month? Hell, he honestly had no clue.
“Luckily there are no children involved so, there won't be any lengthy custody disputes,” her attorney was saying.
Donna felt herself blanch as all the color drained from her face at her attorney's words. And when she looked up at Cory, he was watching her curiously. She felt her stomach roll slightly, and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Now was not the time for nausea. Cory didn't know about the baby, and she wanted to keep it that way.
“Well, the good news is that this will be fairly straightforward and painless for the two of you,” the man said in a cold, uncaring manner. And Cory glared at him murderously for a moment. The weasel had the decency to look embarrassed as he flushed slightly and looked back down at his paperwork. He cleared his throat nervously as he continued. “Yes, well … what I meant is that you both used good foresight when deciding on a solid pre-nuptial agreement. You both had considerable assets to protect, and the terms of your document are simple and iron clad. Since you were married for less than six months, you will each exit the marriage with what you brought into it. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Cory felt as if he'd been beaten and left for dead. His head ached. His body ached. All he wanted was for this nightmare to be over. He wanted to wake up and find that it was all a horrible dream and that Donna was sleeping peacefully beside him. He wanted to reach across the desolate table they were seated at and pull her into his arms and never let go. He didn't want this. He had never wanted this, and he still couldn't believe they were actually here.
“If you'd like to take your foot out of your mouth now, Howard, I think my client is well aware of the terms of the pre-nup,” Cory's lawyer spoke up in her no-nonsense manner. “Can we move on please?”
“Yes. On to the division of assets,” her attorney continued. “Now the only real property you hold jointly appears to be the residence in Calabasas which you purchased in both of your names. We are proposing that the estate be sold immediately and the proceeds divided equally between both parties. Make this short and sweet.”
“That's fine with us,” Cory's attorney stated.
“You don't want the house?” Cory asked, staring at Donna in hurt surprise. “You love that house! You said it was the most perfect place you had ever seen.”
Donna looked startled at his question, and her tears threatened to start once again. “I do love the house,” she said quietly as she met his accusatory gaze. “It is perfect. But I can't stay there. There are too many memories there.”
“Too many memories?” he questioned, searching her eyes. “Too many memories of me? Memories of the two happy years we spent there, crazy in love? You don't want to remember any of that? You want to forget that we ever happened?” He couldn't help the angry rise of his voice as he spoke to her. “Is that what you want?”
“No! That's not what I want, Cory,” she yelled back tearfully. “I couldn't forget us if I tried! But I can't do this anymore!” She buried her pretty face in her hands as the tears overtook her, and Cory watched, feeling helpless. He always hated to see her cry. His instinct was to rush to her and fold her into his arms. Reassure her that whatever was troubling her was going to work itself out. But this time, he was the problem. Their marriage was the thing troubling her, and he felt powerless to fix it.
With great frustration, he ran both his hands through his short, spiked, blonde hair. Then his fists came down swiftly, striking the large, mahogany table with a loud thud. Everyone jumped at the unexpected outburst, and Cory stood abruptly, looking down at his attorney.
“Give me a damn pen,” he growled in angu
ish. “Let me sign whatever the hell I need to sign so I can get the fuck out of here!”
He took the offered pen and leaned over the table, trying to focus on the papers the attorney had thrust toward him. The sound of Donna's crying echoed in his ears as he signed his name on the line, like an autograph. The lump in his throat felt like trying to swallow a boulder, and when the N in his last name suddenly smeared on the paper, he knew that he could no longer stop his own tears from falling.
Silently, he handed the pen back to his attorney as he wiped his cheek with the back of his other hand. He looked over at Donna with eyes full of hurt and longing. “I will always love you,” he said quietly. Then he turned and crossed the room, leaving the door open as he exited the conference room and strode quickly down the hall to the elevators.
As he stepped into the lift and hit the button, he felt like a fucking idiot when the tears came again, and he was grateful that he had the elevator all to himself. Angrily wiping at his eyes, he bolted from the building as soon as the elevator doors opened and spat him out. He climbed behind the wheel of his black '66 Corvette Stingray, started her up and revved the engine. Then he eased into the traffic and drove away without looking back.
And as he drove, he couldn't stop the memories from washing over him. He remembered everything, from the first moment they had met at that party over two years ago. They had eyed one another for a good half an hour before he finally got up the nerve to go over and talk to her. Noah had laughed at him for being scared to approach her, but he didn't care. She was Donna fucking Devlin! Adorable, precocious child star turned grown-up blonde bombshell. America's Sweetheart. And Cory had had the biggest crush on her forever! He never thought he would actually get the chance to meet her, much less fall in love with her. But, being the rhythm guitarist for one of the world's hottest rock bands had its perks, because it turned out that Donna was a huge Jagged Ivory fan. From the moment he made the long walk across the crowded room to her and said hello, they were inseparable.
~~~~~
“Hi,” he had said nervously as he looked into her pale green eyes. His heart pounded in his ears as she smiled brightly at him.
“Hi! I'm Donna.” She reached out to shake his hand, and Cory felt an electric shock tingle up his arm when his hand met hers.
“My name is Cory Dutton,” he said awkwardly.
“Oh, I know who you are, Cory Dutton,” she smiled sweetly. “I was hoping you would come over here and talk to me!”
“You know me?” he asked in shock.
“I'll have you know that Seven Deadly Sins is my favorite album! I know every single word to each and every song,” she said proudly, as Cory felt himself begin to relax.
~~~~~
After that, they literally did not leave one another's sides for longer than a few minutes at a time during the rest of their stay at that party. He went home with her that night, and didn't leave her place for two straight weeks. The sex was insanely good, but their connection went much deeper than that. From the start, they just seemed to know what the other was thinking at any given moment, and they would finish each other's sentences. It was nuts! Not to mention more than a little scary. Cory had never felt anything like it before, but he had no doubt in his mind that it was love.
That memory was bittersweet now, and Cory shook his head slightly as he entered the freeway, still wiping tears. How had they gone from those two starry-eyed, awe-struck lovers to the sad and bitter people who had just sat across from each other in that cold attorney's office? How had their relationship fallen apart in just three short months? They were still newlyweds, for crying out loud! They should still be in the honeymoon phase, not breaking each other's hearts. He smiled sadly as he remembered coming home from their brief honeymoon. How much in love they had been when he carried her over the threshold…
Chapter Two
They didn't see the limo pull into their long, circular driveway. They didn't see the car come to a stop outside the front door either. And it didn't register with either of them when the engine of the sleek, black, chauffeur-driven limousine suddenly shut off. They were much too busy at the time, sweating and panting as they chased ecstasy in each other's arms. The driver of the limo, upon hearing the sounds of passion emanating from the back of the car, opened the door and slid out. Discretion was part of the job, but he hated waiting around while clients were getting busy in the back of the car.
Their bodies moved together in unison, grinding against one another at full tilt as she rode him like a woman possessed. Wild, animalistic sounds rose from her lips and Cory smiled as he increased his tempo, rotating his hips with every plunge into her sweet sex. He loved it when she made that sound. It meant that she was close, and he could feel her inner muscles beginning to quiver as he drilled furiously into her like a jackhammer. Soon his own groans of pleasure mingled with hers as he felt her spasms around his cock as her orgasm overtook her. And with one final, powerful thrust, he exploded deep inside her.
Donna collapsed into him, taking huge gulps of air as her heart raced, and his arms held her tight. She could feel his hands running gently over her back as he struggled with her to breathe. Slowly, she looked up into Cory's eyes, still panting as she sat facing him. And she could feel him still buried deep inside her as she sat astride his lap.
“I love you so much, Donna,” he whispered as he held her gaze.
“I love you too,” she whispered back, resting her forehead on his. “More than you will ever know.”
He closed his eyes as they sat this way for a few seconds. And in the stillness of the moment, it finally dawned on him that the car wasn't running. He frowned slightly and looked up. And when he saw that they were sitting outside their home, he laughed. Donna followed suit when she turned to see what was so funny.
“Oh, my God! How long have we been here?”
“I don't know,” Cory smiled. “I was too busy to notice.”
They quickly pulled themselves together then, searching the back seat for their discarded articles of clothing, and fixing their hair. They were no strangers to public displays of affection, and flirting with exhibitionism was a favorite, naughty little game of theirs. In fact, they often got off on the whole we-could-be-caught-at-any-moment aspect of public sex, so embarrassment wasn't a concern for the two of them. They exited the car not only with straight faces, but with bold, sexy attitudes to boot. But they weren't totally insensitive to what they had done. After the driver carried their luggage inside and set it by the door, Cory tipped him a little something extra for any emotional damages they may have caused him.
As the driver climbed back into the car and got on his way, Donna turned to the house and began to walk inside. But Cory quickly grabbed her by the arm, gently pulling her back toward him.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“The question is, what are you doing?” he asked her. “You can't just walk into the house by yourself like that! Don't you know anything about being married?”
She looked at him with a truly baffled expression and he smiled at her. Then, without a word, he swooped her into his arms and she giggled like a schoolgirl.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Dutton,” he whispered.
“Welcome home, Mr. Dutton.”
He carefully stepped through the door and then turned, allowing her to gently kick the front door closed. Then he slowly started walking through the spacious home toward their bedroom.
“Oh, my God! Cory, did you do this?” Donna exclaimed in delight as they made their way through the house.
“No, I didn't,” he said as he glanced around in wonder. The house was completely covered in white blooms, her favorite Gerber Daisies tucked into every possible nook and cranny, forming a happy welcoming trail from the living room all the way back to their bedroom. And in the bedroom, the sight grew even more wondrous as the daisies were joined by the most fragrant, pale pink roses. Huge bouquets of daisies and roses – much like the one she carried at their wedding –
sat everywhere, and the bed was covered with pale pink rose petals. The room smelled divine.
Cory finally set Donna gently on her own two feet, and walked over to the table beside the bed where two champagne flutes sat next to a silver bucket. It was full of ice and cradling a bottle of Moët et Chandon Dom Perignon. A small note sat beside it. Picking up the note, he read it aloud:
“Welcome home! The Dom is chilled, the fridge is stocked, the scene is set. Love, Noah and Mercy.”
“Ohh! How sweet was that?!” Donna's voice held that singsong quality that all girls get when they're blown away by someone's kindness.
Cory smiled teasingly at her as he set the note down and walked over to her. “And to think you never wanted him to have a key to our place!”
Donna giggled as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “I take back every nasty thing I ever said about him!”
Cory laughed at her playful remark. He knew some guys whose girlfriends really did hate their best friend, and he knew he was fortunate that Donna and Noah weren't like that. Growing up, Cory only had his mom and his two older sisters, so from the very beginning, his friendship with Noah meant the world to him. Even before they each discovered their love of the guitar, since they had met in middle school, they had been like two peas in a pod. All of his Jagged Ivory bandmates were important to him. But Noah really was the brother Cory never had. So he was thankful that Donna never had a problem with their bond.
He pushed those thoughts aside though as he focused on the beautiful woman in his arms. His wife. That word still blew his mind as he stared into her eyes. He leaned in, letting his lips lightly brush against her ear as he whispered, “Is it bad that I can't concentrate on anything else but fucking you?”
The Essential Jagged Ivory (Jagged Ivory Boxed Set) Page 22
