He looked up, hesitantly seeking her eyes. “As for Collins destroying the document, I realized I didn't need it. It doesn't prove anything. I know how I feel about you and no agreement will ensure that I will have what my heart desires. And my heart only wants you, Miranda. From the way I’ve treated you, I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t believe me, but it’s the truth. I love you.”
Her whole world had done a ninety degree turn. Every word Wolfe spoke sent her spinning. She wasn’t even sure this wasn't just a dream. She wanted to pinch herself but couldn’t because her limbs had calcified in shock.
“Miranda, are you alright?” Wolfe asked. His expression was worried. He reached for the glass of champagne and placed it over her lips.
Miranda automatically opened her mouth and took a sip.
“Are you alright?” Wolfe asked a second time.
Miranda was silent. She thought back to her feelings as she’d discovered the file. Worse than the betrayal had been the shame. He’d uncovered the past she tried to hide... But he’d never once made any allusion to it. Even now, he knew ... And he stood before her, anticipating her rejection. He knew all about the darkness in her past. Did I hear right? Miranda looked up at him. “Can you say that again?”
“Which part?”
“The part where you said you loved me.”
Wolfe’s eyes darkened. “I love you, Miranda—and if you can’t forgive me for everything I did, I understand.”
A vast dark obstruction inside Miranda slowly vanished. She remembered his pride as he’d announced their engagement before his friends and family. The way his voice had trembled as he talked about being desperate to save something so important. It wasn’t the company he was talking about. It was her.
She could no longer ignore the evidence to the contrary. It was all there staring her in the face. The tiny voice at the back of her head, the one that insisted love was not for the broken, had gone silent, completely outweighed by the sight of him standing before her, his anguish naked in his eyes.
“I forgive you. I love you too, Wolfe.”
Wolfe stared at her. His shock slowly gave way to a look of utter happiness. He reached out, pulling her close with arms that trembled.
The warmth of his body thawed the last traces of Miranda’s own shock. Her arms immediately snaked around his neck, as she held him close. She never wanted to let go—and now, she never would.
Chapter Thirteen
Wolfe stared at his fiancée across the table of New York’s exclusive Aureole restaurant. “Are you sure this is what you want? You know I can give you a wedding most women only dream of. A cathedral in Rome, Santorini in Greece, even the Eiffel tower in Paris. I’ll buy you any wedding dress you desire, have flowers flown in from Switzerland... And yet, you only want this?”
Miranda nodded vigorously. It was clear from her expression that her mind was made up.
He shook his head. “I thought all girls started planning the most expensive wedding possible the moment they left the womb.”
She giggled. “Nope, not true. This is what I really want.”
He realized he was beaten. All she had to do was laugh like that, and he would cave, every single time. But for appearances sake, he still demurred. “You know, of course, that Mom will freak?”
“She doesn’t have to know. It will be just you, me and...them.” Miranda’s eyes sought his. “Diane won’t be coming back from Ibiza anytime soon. We can have a lavish wedding when she gets back. I’ll let her take care of everything, from the church to the guest list. She can even choose my wedding dress if that will make her happy. I’ll just show up in the church.”
Wolfe felt his last reservations ease. There was nothing his mother would adore more than producing a society wedding. “She’ll go insane with happiness, that's for sure. We’ll be forgiven everything.”
“I don’t care. I’ll be really married to you by then anyway. This,” she leaned in, emphasizing her words, “is what I want.”
He smiled. “I don’t know if I need to have your head examined—or worship at your feet.” But he already knew he would give her anything she wanted. Anything at all. Besides, as he thought about her request, he began to understand. Something about it resonated with him.
Looking up, he saw Miranda’s anxious expression as she watched him. He nodded. “It feels right. Let’s do it.”
***
The sun had departed, leaving behind an orange-stained skyline heralding the arrival of dusk. There was a slightly chilly quality in the air, making Miranda grateful for the limo. Wolfe had insisted, and she’d decided she owed her groom one ostentatious concession. She knew that it was really a sign of how much he felt for her, that he was more comfortable using wealth than words. But he was learning fast.
She wore an A-line, V-neck vintage lace cocktail dress that was simple yet elegant, opting for a lighter shade of ecru rather than the ubiquitous white. She’d even done her own hair and makeup. She wanted to look like herself, and not a glamor puss her guests wouldn’t recognize.
In her hand, she clutched an arm sheath bouquet of Calla lilies, irises, and sunflowers, a simple selection intended not to intimidate. It was important that her guests felt comfortable.
The main challenge was persuading her guests to show up at all. Miranda knew all about wanting to look presentable and nice for a wedding. It could be daunting for anyone, more so for these folks. Fortunately, Wolfe had been willing to help. He’d called a clothing store and the problem disappeared.
“We’re here, Miss.” The chauffeur’s announcement cut into her reverie.
Miranda looked out the window. The ‘Doorway to Hope’ building was ablaze with lights. Her eyes welled up as she noticed beautiful paper cutouts decorating the windows and entrance. She smiled, blinking back her tears. Thank god Diane Hawkins was still on vacation! Wolfe’s mother would have winced at the sight of the paper flowers, but Miranda knew it was a sign of her guests’ desire to make her wedding special.
She recognized Wolfe’s car parked near the side entrance, and her heart soared, knowing he was inside waiting for her. Another car was parked right beside Wolfe’s. The passenger door opened and revealed two familiar figures.
Miranda gasped. “Noelle! Hunter!” she screamed in delight. She’d thought her friend and her husband were still on holiday.
Noelle Mancine and Hunter Blackwell approached her with wide smiles on their faces. Noelle hugged her friend tightly as Hunter engulfed her hand in a tight squeeze.
“You really didn’t think I’d miss your wedding? Not for the world!” Noelle beamed.
“But how? I thought you were still on vacation.” Miranda clung to her friend, not trusting the evidence of her senses telling her that Noelle and Hunter were truly there.
“Wolfe hunted us down. We talked for a long time. He told us all about your crazy plan for the wedding.” Noelle smiled, releasing Miranda from the hug. “You hooked yourself a good man.”
Miranda was close to tears. Everything was even more perfect than she expected and she was touched once more by Wolfe’s thoughtfulness. “Would you both walk me down the aisle?”
Hunter ushered them both towards the closed door. “It would be our honor, Miranda,”
Lexi waited at the threshold beaming, ready to fulfill her role as bridesmaid. She high-fived Miranda. “Ready to turn New York upside-down?”
Miranda shook her head. She couldn’t get over Lexi’s exuberance—you’d think she was the bride! But as she opened her mouth in protest, she heard the strains of a string quartet signaling the start of the ceremony. Miranda’s eyes grew wide in surprise. “Please tell me he didn’t hire an orchestra!”
Noelle took her arm. “I’m afraid that’s me. A wedding is not a wedding if there is no music.”
“Ready?” Lexi positioned herself at the start of the party as Hunter fell into place on Miranda’s other side.
The door was opened from within. A hush fell and the wedding party slowly m
ade their way inside.
Miranda searched the crowd until she caught sight of Wolfe. He wore beige colored pants with a white shirt rolled all the way to his elbows to complement her dress. A brown suspender and silk tie completed his ensemble. His air of authority was softened, and his jaw, freshly shaven for once, seemed to have lost its edge. When their eyes locked, Miranda’s heartbeat accelerated. Wolfe’s face shone brightly with an indefinable emotion. Some sixth sense told her it was the same emotion that suffused her now.
She looked at the eager faces turned toward her as she walked down the aisle. These were her people. Vagrants, tramps, derelicts, and drifters, who had now found a permanent home in ‘Doorway to Hope’. The men's hair was slicked back, while the women had painted their lips and nails to celebrate the wondrous occasion.
“Hey, Miranda, you here to cook for us today?” A familiar voice called out, sending a wave of laughter across the room.
“Not today.” Miranda grinned at Ben. “Today I’m just here to get married.”
As her eyes fell on each familiar face, memories flooded in. Miranda knew she would never forget being one of them. It would stay with her always—but it would no longer hold her back. As she remembered Noelle’s kindness in saving her from the street, Miranda vowed to meet the future with the same kindness. The future she now shared with the man eagerly waiting for her at the altar.
Miranda stifled a sob of pure joy. She felt Noelle press her hand and knew she understood. The road ahead was rocky, full of twists and turns. But given the option, Miranda knew she wouldn’t change a thing from the past. It had brought her to the present.
Reaching the foot of the altar, Noelle offered Miranda’s hand to Wolfe. He accepted it, locking eyes with his bride as he led her to the final steps to the altar. In that moment, Miranda knew that her future contained a true happily ever after.
*****
THE END
Book 3 is the story of Diane Hawkins & Spanish Billionaire Leon Alvaro. Flip to read now!
Book 3
The Long Shot
Chapter One
The therapist shrugged. “What you need is someone to fuck your brains out and remind you that you’re a woman.”
Diane Hawkins gaped. The woman’s careless tone was as unexpected as the words themselves. Outrage battled with indignation as she stared at the doctor, her cheeks a flaming red.
Dr. Margaret Holmes stared back, quirking an eyebrow.
Diane’s mouth flickered up in a smile and both women burst into laughter. Years of the doctor-patient relationship had stripped all artifice from their interactions. As Diane wiped tears from her eyes, she found herself smiling for the first time in days. “I needed that.”
“I’m not entirely joking.” Margaret pushed her glasses back up her nose. “William, God bless his soul, was a man you adored. He was an attentive husband, and you were a devoted wife. You’ve been an incredible mother to your son, Wolfe, and—”
Diane winced. “We don’t need to talk about Bruce.” The less said about her disastrous second marriage the better.
“You were far more forgiving to him than any other woman would have been,” her therapist continued. “When you realized neither your grown son nor your husband needed your help, you devoted yourself to service to others. You’ve got a track record of humanitarian work that would make Angelina Jolie feel like she was slacking off... In short, you take care of everyone except yourself.”
“What else do you want me to do? I was a society wife! In the early days, I worked hard ensuring Hawkins Pharmaceuticals success by making myself into the perfect hostess. And it turns out I’m great at it. I have the ability to help hundreds of people. I can’t turn my back on them! My socials have raised more funds for New York’s charities than...than—”
The therapist raised a hand. “Take a deep breath.”
Diane realized her shoulders were tense. She breathed in deeply, forcing herself to relax. Inwardly, she was alarmed at her loss of composure. She never raised her voice or was ever impulsive. Good breeding dictated that she be free from any scandal. She was gracious and kind, but there was always a wall she kept between herself and the outside. Margaret’s words had stung, but Diane knew the woman only wanted to help her. She’d been consulting the doctor for years now, even before William’s death had left her a widow. “Sorry, Margaret. I don’t know what came over me.”
“If I was going to guess, I’d say it was the same thing that first brought you to my office all those years ago.”
Diane sighed. “I loved William. I owe him everything. Founding Hawkins Pharmaceutical was his life, but helping people was his dream. He poured every spare minute he had into the company, but through it all, he never forgot me, going without luxuries and vacations himself so that I would have financial security, and that Wolfe would receive the best possible education...”
“And in return, you served him faithfully, as home-maker, hostess, advocate and social darling.”
Diane frowned. She’d never heard Margaret speak so disparagingly of William. “You’re not suggesting he forced me into those roles, are you? I wanted to help him.”
“And you did—by holding yourself to exacting standards for the best part of your life.” Margaret pursed her lips. “If I said this to any other client, I’d be looking at a malpractice suit, but honestly, Diane, I think you need to cut loose.”
Diane shook her head. “You’re teasing me.” She sighed. “I know that I’m simply feeling at a loose end. Now that Wolfe is married—and I couldn’t chose a better wife for him than Miranda!—I’m lonely. That’s all.”
She felt a bittersweet twinge at the thought of her son’s wife. She loved Miranda like a daughter—how could she do anything less? Seeing the way her son’s face lit up any time she entered the room... Diane smiled at the thought of it.
Her smile faded as she remembered that Miranda had fearlessly risked everything to start up a catering business combined with a food kitchen that funneled its profits directly into feeding New York’s most vulnerable citizens. It was a success, breaking new ground in the charity and business arenas. Never in a million years could I have taken that kind of risk...
She looked up to see Margaret’s eyes on her. The therapist’s expression was kind. “Wolfe’s marriage gives you a unique opportunity. This is your time Diane. Take the bull by the horn. Do not confine yourself to the life you’ve lead up until now, or the plaques and citations honoring your achievements. Who are you as a woman?”
Diane shook her head. “I’m not dating again. Bruce was enough.”
“I’m not talking about dating,” Margaret said. “I want you to stop thinking about how others will see you, and experiment. Take risks. Try new things. Dare I say it, mess up a few times.”
Diane snorted. “It is too late to learn skydiving.”
“You’re a mature woman. Not a senior citizen. It’s high time you lived a little.”
Diane shook her head. “That’s for the young.” And the brave.
The therapist frowned. “You’re a beautiful and desirable woman, Diane, an exotic flower kept apart from the rest of the world in a glasshouse. But no one can come close or touch you. It is a lonely existence.”
“Can you imagine the scandal if I actually let loose?” Diane blanched. “This is New York City. I have acquaintances everywhere. They’d think I was going senile. The damage to the Hawkins name….”
“So move to another city. Move to another country. I don’t care… Go as far away as necessary so that you feel like you have room to be yourself. Not William Hawkins’ perfect wife or Wolfe Hawkins’ celebrated mother. Whatever it takes, go where you can be simply Diane.”
Simply Diane. She tried to think of the last time she hadn’t worried about what someone thought of her and discovered she couldn’t. Diane sighed as she glanced at her watch. Her hour was almost over. She stood to go. “Are you really prescribing me a move to another country?”
Margaret beamed
. “If that’s what it takes for you to figure out what you really want from life, I will.”
“I pay you good money to give me all this shit?” Diane pretended exasperation.
To her surprise, Margaret stood, drawing her into a hug. “You pay me good money to tell you the truth. Please, Diane. Do this—for you.”
***
Diane sat cross-legged on a yoga mat on the terrace of her new beachfront apartment. She’d fallen instantly in love the minute she stepped into her new home. It had five bedrooms, four bathrooms, a variety of terraces and a private path to a small secret beach. The house offered a magnificent sea view in every window with the waves of the Mediterranean Sea crashing onto the shore leaving a froth of sand and foam on its wake that reminded Diane of a foaming frappucino.
The Boss's Fiance Box Set Page 24
