Torn Hearts

by M. E. Gordon

  ***

  I decided to go for a jog to get the blood flowing and kill some very anxious time, since I had no classes. I might have been a size twelve, but I did try to take care of myself. And I might have been curvy, but at least they were smooth curves. Along with reading, jogging was one of my favorite pastimes. It really helped me to relax and clear my head.

  With my black yoga pants and favorite work-out sports bra/tank top combination, I laced up my running shoes and headed down to the street. Popping my ear buds in, I set my jogging playlist. A few more last minute stretches and I was off.

  Thirty minutes in, a light fall breeze cooled my reddening face. My pony tail bounced with each stride as I rocked out to the latest upbeat music. I was lost in the run. The street was unusually busy with people for a Thursday morning, but I guessed they were all taking advantage of the nice weather.

  While weaving in and out of the crowd on the large sidewalk, I hit what felt like a brick wall and fell back, flat on my ass. Seeing what looked like white birds above my head, I soon realized that it was papers flying in every direction. I had tried to plow through a person, a large, hard person, who was also lying on the sidewalk, mirroring my exact position. . I watched the last of the flying papers fall to the ground, and that's when it happened. That's when I saw clearly who it was that I’d just tried to run through. There I was sprawled on my ass, staring straight into Spencer Salvatore’s beautiful, blue eyes.

  A wave of fear, excitement, and mortification came over me. Rushing to my knees, I started to pick up the papers which littered the side walk. Copying my position again, he started picking up the papers as well.

  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even see you,” I said apologetically, looking up at his face. Even though I was all red-faced from running, I could feel an embarrassing blush reach my cheeks.

  “It’s okay.”

  His cool voice danced around my ears and I had to shake my head to regain my senses, so I could go back to picking up the papers.

  “You’re hurt,” he said, ignoring the scattered papers. Reaching over, he took hold of my wrist, turning it to see the cuts along my forearm and elbow.

  Kneeling in front of this man while he looked at my arm, I took a second to look at his flawless face. I felt like I was looking down on a silly romantic comedy. Good grief, here we go again. Another out of body experience with this man. I jumped quickly back into my body and looked at the nasty scrapes on my arm. “Oh, it doesn’t hurt. I’ll be okay.” So true. I can’t feel anything, except the ridiculous urge to have him never let go of my hand. Maybe sweep me off my feet, make dirty nasty love, but definitely not pain.

  “Come on,” he said, helping me to my feet. “I think I saw a first aid kit inside. We should get this cleaned up.”

  Does that count for being swept off your feet? Because I’m totally ready for the dirty nasty love making.

  “What about all this?” I said, holding up the few papers that I had managed to pick up. “Aren’t they important?”

  “No, not really. I have copies of everything on file. Jay can handle it,” he said, gesturing at his assistant who was frantically running after the papers, which were blowing down the sidewalk.

  I followed Spencer, stride for stride. His hand was still firmly around my wrist as we walked into the once-fine-dining restaurant. He took me back to where the bustling kitchen used to be. Finding the first aid kit, he snatched it off the wall and brought it over to where I was leaning against the large, industrial sink. Taking a damp paper towel, he dabbed the bloody scrapes. His touch felt like electricity coursing through me. I couldn’t help it. Soon, I was imagining what it would be like to have his hand touch me in other places. Oh my God, I need to think of something else before I combust in front of him.

  Finding my voice, I tried to engage him in conversation. “Are you planning on buying this place?”

  He was paying careful attention to my scratched arm as he reached for a few bandages. Looking up to meet my eyes, he smiled that megawatt smile. “It would seem that way, wouldn’t it?” he said, continuing to patch up my arm.

  “Ah, a smart ass. I’m sure you get along great with Charles,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “I do, actually.”

  What a jerk, a hot-ass jerk.

  “It’s one of the places I have in mind to buy.” His voice was calm and confident.

  Damn, he sounds good, too good.

  “I like the area because it’s close to the campus, but far enough away to still have the lure for high-profile clients.”

  Not sure why--like I even knew what I was talking about--I nodded my head in agreement.

  “There,” he said, applying the last of the band aids to my arm. “All better.”

  I looked down at my neatly bandaged arm, impressed with his nursing skills. “Are you planning to turn this place into another restaurant?”

  Nice one, Beth, engage him in business conversation. Men love talking about their businesses. I learned this one from watching girls with my brothers.

  He was next to me, leaning against the sink. He turned his finely dressed frame parallel to mine.

  Oh, and what a frame!

  Tight-fitting dress pants, a vest layered over a crisp white shirt. And the top two buttons were undone, revealing the slightest glimpse of his stone chest. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, displaying his toned forearms which were currently crossed over his muscular chest.

  “Come with me?” he asked, unfolding his arms and leaving his hand out in the open space between us.

  Standing a little straighter, I tried my hardest not to take his hand as fast as I really wanted to. I reached my wounded arm out and gently put it into his. The spark was instantaneous, the moment my hand was in his. I wanted to catch his eye, see if he felt the same spark that I had, but I was too chicken because it was me and it was him, an attractive, sexy, man. I already knew the spark was clearly, only on my side, so I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to take that chance.

  He led me to the middle of what was once the dining room and released my hand, standing before me.

  Damn it, he let go.

  “Picture this.” Walking over to one side of the room, he held both hands up. “This is where the new bar will go, and over here will be the DJ booth, raised up about three feet, tables and chairs over there...”

  As he kept enthusiastically describing his plans for the space, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He was almost dancing around me with that megawatt smile on his face. He seemed carefree and young, not like the businessman I had met two weeks before. A small laugh escaped my lips while I spun in a circle to follow his every movement.

  He walked back to the center and stood before me again. “Do I get the little sister’s approval?”

  Little sister? I knew I was imagining everything. It wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve misinterpreted guys being nice to me just because of my brothers. “It sounds like it’s going to be great!” I couldn’t help the melancholy in my voice. “What about up there?” I pointed up to the second floor, which was guarded by a railing that encompassed the whole room.

  “I haven’t decided yet. This place is so big. Do you have any suggestions, Miss Monroe?”

  How about a place to hang myself for thinking you like me? “It might be a nice place for dining or a VIP area,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. I looked up at him to see confusion on his face. “Or don’t do that. You asked for my opinion remember.” I crossed my arms and looked toward the exit, ready to bolt out of there.

  “I know. I’m just trying to figure you out, Miss Monroe.” His deep voice echoed off the barren walls, as his brows drew together while he studied me.

  Okay, this is weird, right?

  “So you live close to here?” he asked, running his hand through his dark hair and bringing out the business man side of himself that I had met two weeks ago.

  “Yeah, a few blocks from the campus. I have a condo in the Vanderhall building.” S
hit, I just told an almost complete stranger where I live! Who am I kidding? He could come snatch me out of bed anytime.

  “Oh, you are really close to here. This building gets better every second,” he said, scanning the bare space one last time.

  I felt the color rush to my cheeks and I instantly averted my eyes at the ground. He placed a hand on my shoulder. I panicked at the closeness.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?”

  Ah, hell, I’m completely frozen by his touch. Speak, Beth. “No--I’m--I’m fine. I should get going.” At this point, I tried really hard to bring back to mind that I had a date that night, and only half an hour ago, I was highly looking forward to it. But now I was slowly starting to forget all about it, and him! “I’m sure that you have tons of things to be doing.”

  Letting his hand fall from my shoulder, he simply stared at me.

  “I’m just going to let myself out.” I turned, taking two steps toward the door that I really wasn’t ready to walk through just yet.

  “Wait, I’ll walk you out.” He sounded annoyed as he walked over to meet me.

  When his hand found my lower back, I felt my skin burn and I had to take the chance this time. The annoyance on his face was clear, but it melted the longer his hand touched me. Legs, you better not to give out on me!

  We walked outside the building and that was when my subconscious reared her head for information--information that I’d wanted to know as soon as I realized who I had run into. But I suppressed it because I was too busy being a girl and gawking at his good looks.

  “Did you leave the notes?” I asked, once we were face to face.

  Clearly shocked by my blunt question, he just stood there. I could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to come up with an answer.

  Maybe deep down I didn’t want him to answer, just in case I was fantasizing all of this.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an SUV pull up in front of the building. The window rolled down slowly and before Spencer could get a word out, Charles’s annoyingly perfect face was hanging out the window.

  “Hey, what the hell, Salvatore? You show our baby sister the place before your partners?”

  Always the scene stealer, first with Simon and now, once I finally thought I was going to get some answers, Charles came barreling out of the SUV laughing, holding his hand out to shake Spencer’s.

  “Chuck,” Spencer said, sounding irritated.

  Seems I’m not the only one heated about this intrusion.

  Teddy followed next out of the SUV and walked over to the three of us. Putting an arm around my neck, he kissed my head, like he always did. He then turned to greet Spencer with a disturbed look.

  What was that for?

  “What’s going on here?” Charles asked, pointing to the both of us.

  “Nothing, Charles, we just ran into each other.”

  There’s no way I’m going to tell them that I actually ran in to him and knocked him on his ass and if Spencer knows what’s good for him, he won’t say anything either. I made sure to shoot him a warning look as I gave the false explanation to my brothers. Charles squinted his eyes at me. I knew exactly what he was getting at. The typical, if-you-screw-this-deal-up-I-swear-you-will-pay look.

  I wasn’t going to get any questions answered now, not with these two looming over me. “I have to go. Good luck on the project,” I said, lifting Teddy’s arm from around my neck. Before I turned to leave, I couldn’t help but catch Spencer’s eye. Is he going to say something?

  He went to move in my direction, opening his lips, and getting ready to speak, just as Charles’s voice flared up. “Bye, baby girl.”

  I need to leave now, before I kill my brother. I started walking away from the beautiful men, when I heard Teddy call to me. “Beth! Are you coming to Grans on Saturday?”

  Turning, I glared at my brothers and Spencer, who looked just as annoyed as I felt. I made sure to speak loud and clear. “I’m not a baby, Charles Ferguson Monroe!” I caught Spencer raising a hand and covering his mouth as if to stifle a chuckle. Lowering my voice slightly, I addressed Teddy, who was also laughing. “Yes, I am going, and you and Fergi can pick me up at ten sharp!” I put my ear buds in, turned up the music, and jogged back to the condo.

  I really hated the fact that Spencer had this strange pull to him. It was no wonder women couldn’t get enough of him. I saw him and I wanted to be near him. I heard his voice and everything else went mute. But when he touched me, I felt like I could light all of Main Street with the electric charge I got from him. It was technically only the third time that I had ever spoken to him, but, damn, if each time, it didn’t get more intense.

  Through my jog, I tried to calm my body’s sudden need for Spencer. So I made myself think of Simon, and the fact that I was going out on a date with him in less than seven hours. I had to be rid of any feelings for Spencer by the time Simon came to pick me up. It was pretty obvious that Spencer was a fantasy that I would never see come true, but Simon...Simon could be real.

  Chapter 6

  Satisfied with how I looked in my pencil skirt and sheer red blouse, I ripped the last tag off. Fluffing my curled hair one last time, I exited my room.

  “Well, what do you think?” I spun in front of the TV where Gia was sitting. “Does the fashionista approve, or what?”

  “Are you trying to get laid tonight? Because that’s what that outfit says.”

  Grabbing a pillow off the chair closest to me, I chucked it at her face. “No! I just want to look nice, you freak!”

  “Considering the last date you went on, where you wore jeans and a T-shirt, I would have to go out on a limb and say that you’re really trying to impress this guy,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

  “No--fine--maybe a little,” I confessed.

  “I want to hear everything when I get home tonight,” she said.

  “Wait, when you get home? Where are you going?” I asked.

  “Mood,” she said, talking under her breath and not looking at me.

  What the hell is she up to now?

  “You’re not going by yourself, are you?” I asked, sitting back on my hips and crossing my arms.

  “No, not really. Chuck invited me,” she said over her shoulder.

  “When did you talk to him?”

  “I was coming home for a lunch break today and he was just standing outside some abandoned building with Teddy and Spencer Salvatore. Speaking of Mr. Hottie Salvatore, have you seen the Fame web page today?” she asked.

  Damn, she’s good at taking the heat off of herself and putting it elsewhere. “No, I try not to look at it on a daily basis. Why?”

  Salvatore, plus me, plus Fame equals bad news. I can only imagine what she’s going to tell me.

  “Umm, there’s another picture of you two up.”

  Great.

  She turned her lap top so I could see. The scene on the screen was still very fresh in my mind. Spencer and I were standing outside the old restaurant when the photo was taken. I had just confronted him about the notes. His body was tense, his fingers in mid-run through his hair. God, he looks good. Me, on the other hand? Not so much. My face was red and splotchy, while my hair was falling out of the pony tail and, damn, did I look desperate. Scrolling down, I read the caption.

  What’s this? An intense, exchange of looks between Mr. Salvatore and his not-so-secret vixen. That’s right. We know who you are, Elizabeth Monroe.

  What the hell? That’s it. I’m convinced the world is out to get me.

  “Spencer seemed to get more interested in our conversation when your name came up, in case you were curious.”

  As Gia spoke, I could feel the color drain from my face.

  “You do have a thing for him, I knew it!” Gia clapped her hands happily and squealed. “Looks like you have a leg up on the competition, girly. I’m pretty sure no one else can say that he’s kissed their hand or rubbed their feet, not in public, anyway. You kno
w, he’s, like, really private with his love life. I heard a rumor he pays woman to keep their mouths shut after he sleeps with them.”

  I rolled my eyes at her, not believing a word of it. “First off, I was jogging and ran in to him. Second off, I don’t have a ‘thing’ for him. And thirdly, I don’t believe he’s ‘private’ with women. He’s got to be linked to someone.” I tried to say it like I didn’t care, like he didn’t make me go on the fritz.

  “Okay. Fine, I’ll let this go,” she said smugly. “But eventually you are going to have to talk about it. I’m just letting you know I’m here when you need me to listen. And if you don’t believe me about his love life, check for yourself. He’s not linked to anyone, but you.”

  With that, the conversation ended as I marched to the kitchen to get a glass of wine, hoping to calm my nerves. I tried desperately not to think about Spencer or the fact that he “perked up” at the sound of my name. I took a sip of wine while I wrapped my head around the last ten minutes. I couldn’t believe Fame rated me out. Now everyone would know it was me in all the pictures. Lots of people had their pictures on that site, and they are all fine, right? I need more wine.

  There was a soft knock at the door. Gia and I quickly turned to one another, freaking out with excitement. I downed the last of the wine while Gia went over to let my date in. I straightened my skirt and fixed my hair, praying I didn’t look a hot mess.

  Gia ushered Simon in after a quick introduction and hello.

  Damn, he looks good.

  He had a light blue dress shirt on, which fit him perfectly. His biceps stretched against the fabric. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and, for a second, I forgot he was even here to pick me up. He had left his shirt un-tucked over a pair of light blue jeans that hugged his masculine hips. Looking around Gia’s tiny frame, he found me standing near the kitchen. And that was when my brain registered that, yes, he was here to pick me up.