by Bella Andre
Page 2
Author: Bella Andre
“How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”
Over the years, Ford had worked with many musicians who were recovering alcoholics. He understood that, even if an addict was sober for years, one sip was all it would take for their addiction to come raging back even stronger than it had been before, as if the years of abstinence had never happened. Now, he knew exactly what that felt like, because he couldn’t stop staring at the computer screen where Mia’s beauty and vitality drew him even more now than it had then.
“Five years. ”
“Have you ever tried to get back in touch with her?”
Again, his answer was a curt, “No. ”
He’d done everything but that. He’d worked like hell to try to forget, to try to bury what he’d felt for her. He’d moved from one woman to another, one city to another, one stage to another. But, God, just thinking about having Mia back in his arms sent long-simmering yearnings and cravings rushing through him.
“Why haven’t you?”
How could he explain how good it had been with Mia. . . and then how badly it had ended? Especially since, even if he could put words to it, he knew he shouldn’t tell Natasha anything more. Not when he’d already told—and shown—her too much. Because if she decided to break her promise to him and go public with any of this, his grave was already dug. Deep.
Only, just as writing a song felt like discovering the mystery of what he truly believed, one lyric at a time, he was surprised to find that so did this very unexpected conversation.
Finally, he admitted, “We were young. ”
But that wasn’t the whole truth. Not even close. He’d made every mistake in the book with Mia. Pride. Ego. Blame. They’d all been huge forces in his leaving her and then staying away.
“I was young. Stupid. Just like you said, I thought the whole world should be waiting at my feet. Including her. ”
“We were all young and stupid once,” Natasha pointed out, “but if you ask me, the fact that you’re still in love with her trumps all of that. ”
She waited then, as if to give him a chance to try to deny that he was still in love with Mia. But he couldn’t.
Not when he now realized that every word of the denial would be a bald-faced lie.
“The way you looked at her from that stage in Seattle five years ago. . . I wish I had been filming you just now so that you could see how you looked at her on my computer exactly that same way. And, Ford, what if she’s still just as much in love with you, too?” Her voice gentled as she added, “I know people think you have everything. Fame. Success. Packed stadiums and hit songs. And I’ve personally seen that you really enjoy what you do. ” She looked around at the luxurious interior of the tour bus. “But I have to wonder—if the two of you could make things work this time around, what would you be willing to give up to have her back?”
The word everything busted into his brain at the exact moment that the old backstage video clicked back on. Watching it, he remembered that Mia had just told him her name when several scantily clad groupies had pushed between the two of them. Even as he’d given the women their autographs, he’d been counting down the seconds until he could be with Mia again.
Now, as he stood in his tricked-out tour bus, Ford realized he’d never stopped counting those seconds for the entire five years since the last time he’d seen her.
Once upon a time, he’d believed that his music, his guitar, and his songs were everything he needed. But tonight, as his tour bus roared down yet another highway to yet another stadium, Ford finally realized that his songs and audiences could never even come close to filling the hole inside of him.
Only one thing—only one person—had ever been able to do that.
Only Mia.
Chapter Two
Mia Sullivan knew nothing about the man she was about to meet. . . except that he must be rich.
Really stinking rich.
Mia had been contacted the previous day by a lawyer representing a client who was in the market for a home in Seattle. The budget? Ten million dollars, give or take a few million, if necessary.
The location? On the water, of course.
The time frame? Immediately.
The client? Anonymous until today’s showing.
As the owner of Sullivan Realty with a half-dozen agents working under her, Mia already had a full slate of showings and meetings set up for Friday morning. Plus, she’d found the anonymous-buyer aspect more than a little suspect. What possible reason could a potential client have for keeping his or her identity a secret from her? Especially when she’d previously sold property to some of the wealthiest men in the world, not to mention being cousin to movie star Smith Sullivan and pro-baseball player Ryan Sullivan. Quickly running through various possibilities in her head, Mia figured it was possible that the buyer might be a wealthy and dangerous convict who had done his time and now wanted to restart his life with a big house on the water in the Pacific Northwest.
Of course, she’d love the commission on a ten-million-dollar sale, but at this point she didn’t absolutely need it. Besides, Mia Sullivan had four older brothers and loving parents who had taught her well about looking out for herself, and she was nobody’s fool.
Well, that is, apart from that one week five years ago when she’d been a complete and utter fool, all for love. . .
Shoving that ugly thought back into the dark depths where it belonged, she’d point-blank asked, “Has your client done time for a horrible crime?”
It had sounded like the lawyer was barely restraining his laughter as he’d said, “No. I can promise you that he is most definitely not a murderer. ”
Then she’d known it was a man, at least. “I’m afraid it’s going to be extremely difficult to help choose the perfect house for a client who insists on remaining anonymous. ” At the lawyer’s continued silence, she’d added, “I’d have to know his age and the size of his family or staff, at the very least. ”
“I truly do apologize for not being able to divulge any further details about my client, but I can promise that he is of sound mind and does not intend to do you any harm. ”
“If that’s intended to be reassuring—”
“I have also couriered over a check for twenty thousand dollars as a down payment on your fee. Whether you are able to find a home that my client wishes to purchase, or not, the money is yours. ”
As if it had been choreographed, Mia’s assistant, Orlando had brought in an envelope just as the lawyer finished speaking.
Mia had slid out the cashier’s check for twenty grand, and this time when her mouth opened, no further protests had come out. So despite the red flags waving inside her head, warning that something was definitely off with this whole situation, the fact was that no Realtor on the planet would ignore this client. Anonymous or not, he was clearly serious about buying a waterfront home in Seattle, so she’d decided to shift her original Friday clients to Orlando and book new showings at three of the best waterfront listings in Seattle.
In any case, Mia thought now as she headed up the front walk of the first house, it was far more likely that he was going to end up being a twenty-two-year-old nerd who had struck it rich with a high-tech start-up and didn’t have any social skills to speak of, rather than a crazy, dangerous convict sprung from prison on a technicality.
As she unlocked the front door to the amazing waterfront estate, she gave silent thanks that it was a perfect day. The clouds were white and fluffy in a brilliantly blue sky, and the water of Lake Washington was so calm it looked like glass. Mia really enjoyed living in her high-rise condo looking out over downtown Seattle, but she could certainly see the allure of a place like this. No doubt about it, she thought with a grin as she walked into the spectacular house, if she had ten million dollars lying around collecting dust, she would definitely buy a place like this for herself.
Quickly and eff
iciently, she made her way through each room on the ground floor, turning on lights, adjusting vases of flowers, and shifting furniture slightly to make the house look truly perfect.
Not, however, that this home needed much help in that department. Because while she believed all three houses on today’s agenda would suit even the pickiest buyer, she was particularly partial to this one because of one very unique feature.
The tower.
What girl didn’t love the thought of a gorgeous, strapping prince climbing up stone and vines to give her true love’s kiss in a tower? And what boy wouldn’t have loved to stealthily track invaders from high above like a warrior would have so many centuries ago? Plus, on a more practical note, the tower had great light, beautiful stone walls, and an incredible view.
The house was currently owned by a really nice couple who were, unfortunately, splitting up. Mia had attended a few of their parties over the years and had always been amazed by how similar they were—everything from their blond good looks to their classic fashion sense. She’d been extremely surprised when they had called to let her know they were getting a divorce and wanted her to list their home. As far as she had seen, they had never argued or seemed angry with each other beneath brittle smiles and fake endearments, like so many couples often did. Then again, the more she’d thought about it, she couldn’t ever remember them touching, either. Their divorce, it seemed, was now proceeding with as little passion as their marriage.
Mia stopped halfway up the spiral staircase that led to the tower room and gazed out a small window that overlooked the extensive grounds.
How, she wondered, do people ever figure out the balance between love and lust? Friendship and passion?
Gazing out at the blue lake and the yacht moored just outside the window, she barely saw them as she mulled over the questions that had been popping into her head again and again now that so many of her family members had found the one. First, her eight cousins in San Francisco had all fallen in love. Four were already married and another four were engaged, with Marcus and Nicola’s wedding coming up on Sunday at his winery in Napa Valley. And then, this past summer, her brother Rafe had fallen head over heels in love with their old friend Brooke.
Of course, Mia was thrilled for her brother and cousins. But after seeing each of the happy couples together, she’d seriously begun to doubt that she’d find what they all had with each other. Especially when, given her big past relationship mistake, she clearly had no idea what real love was.
The sounds of a seagull squawking just a few yards outside the window yanked her from her musings. Her anonymous buyer would be arriving in fifteen minutes, and she wanted to be completely ready for him. Taking the final stairs two at a time, she reached the thick wooden door to the tower room thirty seconds later.
She was slightly surprised to find the door open. But when she stepped inside she was far more surprised to realize that the room wasn’t empty. . . and that the anonymous buyer was the very last man on earth she ever wanted to see again.
Just that quickly, five years fell away, and she was reliving the moment when she’d seen him for the very first time.
* * *
Five years ago, in a downtown Seattle venue. . .
Mia Sullivan was having the best day of her life. She’d sold her first seven-figure property, and had a great Friday night dinner with her family at her parents’ house, where her mother, father, and four brothers had surprised her with a huge arrangement of flowers and champagne to toast her achievement. After heading home to change into something less professional and more slinky, she was out continuing the celebration at a well-known Seattle club with some of her colleagues who had also closed good deals that week.
She’d been too amped up at dinner with her family to take more than a few sips of the champagne they’d popped on her behalf and now her mojito had never tasted better. Bursting with energy, Mia was ready and raring for the band to start playing so that she could hit the dance floor. She felt especially sexy tonight in her shimmering silver dress with thin spaghetti straps and a deep plunge in the back. Mia wasn’t particularly tall, but with the hem of her dress barely skimming her thighs and her five-inch silver heels, she felt like she could go toe to toe with any of the supermodels-in-training in the audience.
