Pretty Broken Promises: An Unconventional Love Story

by Jeana E. Mann

  “That’s a lot of puke. Is this normal?” I asked, amazed that she had anything left at all in her stomach.

  “Yes. I guess it is in the beginning. It should pass pretty soon.” With a sigh, she reclined on the bed and threw an arm over her forehead. “I feel better with you here.”

  “Not for long. I’ve got a meeting in Los Angeles tomorrow.” The thought of leaving her when she needed me caused my chest to ache. “I’ll have Xavier work around my schedule. Maybe I can go next week.”

  “You can’t. You’re going back to Tokyo, remember?”

  “Right.” With every passing day, I felt more and more boxed in by my obligations. If I didn’t attend to business, we’d have no future. The added pressure of a baby renewed my lust for success. My children would never know what it meant to be hungry or homeless. When I left this earth, I’d know that my children and their children’s children had enough money to thrive.

  I eased into the bed beside her and drew her into the nook of my shoulder. The heat of her body warmed me from shoulder to thigh. She snuggled deeper into my side.

  “What did Maxwell want?” The tip of her nose nuzzled along my collarbone, causing the muscles in my groin to tighten.

  “He wants us to come visit him at Seaforth Manor. To talk about the future of Seaforth Industries. A Seaforth summit, if you will.”

  She lifted her head. “No way. Are you going?”

  “Hell no.” I enfolded her hand in mine and placed it over my heart. The soft mounds of her breasts pushed against my chest. I savored the feel of her in my arms at last.

  “Do you think it’s a trap?” Her breath puffed against my cheek. I shook my head and stroked a hand down the curve of her spine. “I hate to say this, but maybe you should go and hear what he has to say.”

  “No.” The sheets fell away as I pushed into a sitting position. “You’re talking crazy.”

  “He’s in serious trouble here. You said yourself that he could lose everything.” The glow from the street lights angled through the open curtains and highlighted the soft curves of her face as she clutched the sheet to her breasts. “Unless that’s what you want.”

  With a fingertip, I traced the slope of her nose then tapped the upturned end while I contemplated her statement. She smiled, heating my blood. I’d do anything for one of her smiles. There was no price too high, no task too small, no distance too far. “I never wanted to see him ruined. I only wanted to show him that I could hold my own, that I wasn’t a loser, that you and I could be together and successful at the same time.” Her heart bumped against my ribs as she pressed closer.

  She laughed and shook her head. The wavy brown locks of her hair tickled my neck. “Now you’re being crazy. I’m pretty sure your picture is next to the definition of success in the dictionary.”

  “You have to say that because you’re my wife.”

  “I don’t have to say squat,” she replied. “Just calling it like I see it.”

  I kissed the top of her head and felt the curve of her smile against my skin. “I’ll see what he’s got in mind. Maybe we can drive the Porsche up there. Have a long weekend together.”

  We fell silent. I drew in a deep breath and tried to release the tensions of the day. Times like these deserved to be treasured. My need for success, to conquer whatever lurked beyond the next mountain, never ceased. Sometimes I forgot to appreciate how lucky I was, how differently my life could have turned out if I’d never met Dakota in the coffee shop on that cold, rainy day.

  “I hate that you’re sick because of me,” I said.

  “I don’t mind. If it’s part of having your baby, then it’s worth it.” Her words slurred, heavy with exhaustion.

  I placed a hand on her belly, feeling the small, almost indiscernible swell beneath my palm. A few seconds later, her petite hand covered mine, the palm soft and gentle. Her fingers threaded through mine. We fell asleep that way, and I dreamed dreams of tiny brown-haired babies with aquamarine eyes and pink-lipped smiles.

  Chapter 15

  SAM

  THE NEXT morning, I was up before Dakota. She didn’t stir, and I didn’t wake her. Now more than ever, she needed her sleep. With suitcase in hand, I crept out of the apartment and made my way to the airport. We texted between meetings and managed a few short phone calls after work, but our conversations were limited. The instant my plane landed two days later, I called Dakota’s cell, hoping to get her alone, and got no answer. When I called the office, Layla answered the phone. “I’m sorry, Mr. Seaforth, she left about four o’clock.”

  “Is everything okay?” It was after six PM. Dakota never left the office before seven. A prickle of unease crept up the back of my neck.

  “I believe so.”

  “Do you know where she went?” I asked when Layla remained silent. I counted to ten in my head, praying for patience, something I’d never possessed. The poor girl nearly fainted every time I walked into the room. I wasn’t sure if she was intimidated or just incompetent, but Dakota seemed to like her, so I kept my opinions to myself.

  “I think she went home. She said she—she—was—was tired,” Layla stammered. “I’m sorry, Mr. Seaforth.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  When I finally arrived home, I tiptoed into our apartment to find Dakota asleep on the sofa. Soft evening light filtered in through the open blinds, giving her creamy skin an angelic glow. Her brown hair fanned over the pillow. She’d flung an arm above her head, palm facing the ceiling, fingers relaxed. The other hand rested on the curve of her belly.

  I stood over her, watching her sleep. Perky breasts showed plainly through the thin fabric of her T-shirt, her eyelashes fanned in dark, lacy half-moons over her cheeks. I drew in a shaky breath and ran a fingertip along the slope of her nose. She murmured and shifted but didn’t wake. A swell of emotion pressed against my ribs. Clarity erased any doubts I might have harbored about our future. Moments like these meant more to me than all the material things the world offered. I’d already had fast cars, big houses, faster women—and I knew, without a doubt, the things in life that mattered couldn’t be bought.

  Not wanting to wake her but unable to resist, I dropped a kiss on her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open, and a sweet smile curved her mouth.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hi.” She stretched luxuriantly then grabbed my tie and tugged me down for a kiss. “You’re home early.”

  “Not really. It’s almost seven.”

  She bolted into a sitting position, pressing a hand to her forehead. “It is?” Her nose crinkled adorably. “I just came home for a nap. Oh, no. Crap.” She struggled to stand, but I pushed her back.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” I asked.

  “I’ve got a mountain of paperwork to get through and two meetings tomorrow.” She renewed her struggle, pushing against my chest.

  “Dakota, stop.” I grabbed both her hands and trapped them together. One of my hands circled both her wrists, and I held her easily.

  She huffed out a groan. “What?”

  “Baby, breathe. Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow.”

  “I’m calling the police, because you’re clearly not my megalomaniac husband.” One of her eyebrows soared upward.

  “You think I’m a tyrant?” I let go of her hands and yanked her to me. The soft mounds of her breasts flattened against my pectorals. My dick twitched with approval.

  “Well.” She pretended to think for a second. “Yes.”

  “If that’s true, then why is it you never do what I say?” I smoothed a hand along the curve of her spine. My hand found purchase on the left cheek of her round bottom and squeezed.

  “Ah!” she squeaked. An adorable flush crept up her neck and into her face as she held back laughter. “Probably because you’re always wrong.” I squeezed again just to see her squirm. “I’m sure I had my reasons. Can you give me a specific instance?”

  “I told you to take it easy, and you clearly haven’t been list
ening to me. Xavier said you’ve been burning the midnight oil.”

  “Xavier’s a traitor. Besides, if I don’t—”

  “Hush.” I pressed a finger to her lips. She promptly bit the tip. “Come here, you little wildcat.” With a shift of my weight, I had her on her back and my legs between her open thighs. “The work will get done. That’s what we hire people for.”

  Her lips parted to make a smart retort, but I smothered it with my mouth on hers while my hands searched for her bottom again.

  “You’re going to have to do all the work tonight,” she whispered against my mouth. “I’m too tired.”

  “Not a problem.” I groaned when her fingers slid between us to undo my pants. She pushed them down my hips with her feet. Feeding off her cue, I lifted her T-shirt and drew a nipple into my mouth.

  I needed her in the worst way. Not for sex, but for warmth and companionship and intimacy. Did she realize she held my heart in the palm of her hands? That I didn’t exist without her? As I sank inside her, the worries of my day faded away—Maxwell, Vanessa, work. They blurred into insignificance. She pushed up my shirt, palms skating along the bare skin of my back, nails biting into my shoulder blades when I pushed deeper inside her.

  Ten minutes later, I scooped her into my arms and carried her to the bedroom, where I could do a proper job of loving her.

  Chapter 16

  SAM

  MORNING CAME way too soon. I showered and made coffee then sat at the breakfast bar to look over the stock market and scan the headlines of the daily news for the latest on Maxwell. Dakota raced around the apartment, searching for the left shoe of her favorite pair of pumps while I tried not to laugh.

  “It’s not funny.” With an outstretched arm, she pointed the toe of her right shoe at me.

  “Maybe if you didn’t throw your crap all over the apartment when you got home, you wouldn’t have this problem,” I observed.

  “You did not just go there.” She got down on hands and knees to search beneath the couch, offering me a prime view of her rump. I whistled in appreciation. A few seconds later, she came up for air and scowled at me.

  “Just think, you won’t have this problem in our new house. You’ll have a closet fit for a queen.” I left my seat to cross the room and take her into my arms.

  “You mean I’ll have twice as much to clean.” The tip of her nose nestled into the hollow of my throat.

  “No, you won’t. Because we’re going to hire a housekeeper.” I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, enjoying the clean, fresh scent of her shampoo.

  “When do I have time to shop for a housekeeper?” She pushed away. With a hand on my chest, she balanced on first one foot then the other to put on her shoes. “We still need a Human Resources director and a computer tech at the office. And that’s just the beginning.”

  “I’ve already hired someone.”

  “What? Seriously?” She paused, cocking her head to the side in surprise.

  “Yes. Mrs. Pittman. She was my housekeeper before we got married. I heard through the grapevine that she was available again, and I gave her a call.”

  “You did that?” Dakota placed both hands on her hips and arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Without asking me?”

  “Okay. Xavier gave her a call.” I shrugged. “Same difference.” I’d come to consider Xavier an extension of myself. “She can help you start up the new house.”

  “How’s come I never met her?” She moved to the bathroom, closing the door only halfway. The tinkle of running water filled the air.

  “Because she’s good at her job. A good housekeeper is undetectable,” I replied, quoting my mother. “They’re around when you need them, invisible when you don’t.”

  I waited for a response but heard only silence. Thinking she was busy, I went back to the kitchen to refresh our coffee. The hands on the microwave clock showed six-thirty.

  “Are you about ready? We need to get going.” Silence. “Dakota?” She came out of the bathroom, mouth twisted into a frown. Two lines creased her forehead. “What is it?”

  “Um, I’m spotting a little,” she said.

  “What’s that mean?” My heart rate accelerated. I grabbed her hand. “I’ll call the doctor.”

  “No. It’s fine. I mean, the doctor said it wasn’t unusual.” She managed a smile and ran a soothing hand down my sleeve. “She said it might happen after sex and to just keep an eye on it.”

  “It’s happened before?” When she didn’t answer, I gripped her chin in the palm of my hand and forced her to look at me. “Dakota.”

  “A little bit last week, but nothing major. It’s fine. Really.”

  “Jesus.” I swiped a hand over my face and sank into the nearest chair. “Did I hurt you last night?” A frisson of guilt gripped my guts. I’d tried to be gentle, but desire had overcome my common sense, and I’d ended up mounting her like a horny stallion.

  “Calm down.” Her laughter brought a flush of heat to my face. When I didn’t smile, her voice gentled. “Sam, I’m fine. I’ve got another appointment tomorrow, just to be sure.”

  “Alright.” I searched her eyes for reassurance. She patted my cheek then lifted on tiptoe to press a light kiss on my lips.

  “Stop worrying.”

  “It’s my job to worry about you.” I was supposed to fly out to Tokyo the next day. “I’ll cancel my meetings and go with you.”

  “No.” Her voice was gentle but firm. “There’s no reason. You need to go to this meeting. Takashima isn’t going to understand if you cancel on him. We just need to get through these next few weeks, and then you’ll be able to come to all my appointments, right? I’ll let you know if there’s anything to be concerned about.”

  In the car, I kept her close to my side, oblivious to Rockwell and Chandler in the front seat. I scrolled through emails on my phone while she stared out the window. We rode in silence for a few miles. Not an awkward silence, but the comfortable quiet that came with familiarity. On the horizon, morning sunlight glinted off the twin spires of the Seaforth Towers. The architectural monstrosities caught Dakota’s gaze at the same time as mine.

  “You never did tell me about the FBI. What’s the deal there?” she asked.

  With so much going on in our own lives, I’d failed to bring her up to speed. We had enough to worry about without Maxwell’s problems in the mix. The media frenzy had lessened but hadn’t disappeared entirely. The quiet surface didn’t fool me. Like the ocean, in the business world, the most dangerous sharks often swam below the surface in still waters. I thought back to the conversation with my father.

  “He says he’s innocent, that it’s all a misunderstanding.” I rested my phone on my thigh, giving her my full attention. “They say he’s willfully avoided paying taxes by sheltering money in offshore accounts.”

  “That’s no surprise.”

  “Vanessa’s worried. She’s afraid he’ll lose everything.” I threaded my fingers through hers, enjoying the glide of her smooth palm against my rough one.

  “Vanessa called, and you didn’t tell me?” She squeezed my hand in reproach. “Things must be serious if she’s reaching out.”

  “I hate to admit it, but she’s got a point. My family has worked really hard to build this fortune. And it’s not just about me. We’ve got kids to think about now. There should be something left for them.”

  “But it’s a corporation, and it’s his personal assets at stake, right? Seaforth Industries has shareholders. They can just appoint a new CEO.”

  “There’s been a Seaforth at the helm of Seaforth Industries since the very beginning. With the stock values plummeting, the entire business is ripe for a takeover. And we both know how that can go. Someone bloodthirsty moves in—”

  She smiled and bumped her shoulder into mine. “You mean, someone like you?”

  I smiled back at her. “Yes, someone like me. They grab the majority shares, dismantle the company, and Seaforth Industries evaporates into the ether.”

  “But
they can’t do that, can they? I mean, your dad holds the majority stock, right?”

  “He owns twenty-six percent and holds the proxy voting rights to another twenty-five percent. But that can all change in a heartbeat.” The reality of the situation preyed heavily on my subconscious.

  “Who are the other major shareholders?” Her gentle touch slid along the length of my tie, smoothing and straightening the length of blue silk.

  “I’ve got fifteen percent.”

  “I didn’t know that. Does someone have your proxy votes?”

  Her question set my thoughts into motion. “Yes.”

  “Are they revocable? Can you take them back?”

  “I can. But fifteen percent isn’t enough to make a majority vote.”

  “Maybe not, but you’re a persuasive guy. I bet you could turn that fifteen into twice that if you put your mind to it.”

  “Are you suggesting I take over my own father?” I lifted an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the saucy wench.” I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed her knuckles. She smiled at me, reminding me of all the reasons I loved her. No one understood me the way she did. And no matter how badly I fucked up, she always had my back. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

  “No.” She bit her lower lip in one of my favorite gestures.

  “Well, I do.” Sunshine puddled on the floor of the car. My heart stuttered when she leaned forward and dropped a kiss on my cheek.

  Chapter 17

  DAKOTA

  AFTER A mid-morning meeting on the opposite side of the city, I asked Chandler to drop Layla and me at the bistro across from my office. Between the bouts of morning sickness, my stomach growled ferociously and insisted on replenishment. On this particular day, I had an overpowering need for a breakfast panini, and nothing else would ease the craving.

  Armed with my tablet and a non-fat, decaf latte, I took a quiet table by the window, intending to review my notes from the presentation. Layla purchased two large coffees and headed back to the car. I watched through the window as she handed one to Chandler. The top of her head barely came to the center of his chest. He took the Styrofoam cup from her and nodded. Her expressive eyes sparkled, and a blush colored her heart-shaped face. A smile tugged my lips.