The argument went back and forth, but luckily for me, the best consensus was reached. Xander had made it clear to them that he would not be withdrawing his commitment, and the network’s belief in my script was solid, so we agreed to defer it until the following year.
I sought comfort in the offer, still uncertain as to what my final decision would be in the coming year, but patient enough to wait it out. I stepped out of the network offices, and stood on the sidewalk, to take in the bustle of the city, no longer the broke and jobless dreamer that I had been just a few months earlier. I now had a place in the second season of their most famous currently airing show, and couldn’t wait to learn all that I could.
None of this could have happened without Xander. He truly had been a blessing to me, but his rejection of a life with me broke my heart.
Angrily I wiped the tears from my eyes and hailed the next cab that was going toward his office. I was going to barge in and demand the life that I wanted with him. He had once told me that doing what I had to do to keep my dream alive was one of the things he most admired about me. In this case, also, I was not going to back down.
I was almost at his headquarters when my phone began to ring. The moment I saw it was my mother, I hurriedly picked it up, the familiar wave of fear washing over me.
“Hey Mom, how are you? How’s daddy doing?”
I expected her usual response, “We’re still waiting, but the doctors say that there is hope.” However, when the other end of the line remained silent, I stopped breathing.
“Mom,” I said. “Mom. Has he woken up?”
“No,” she said very quietly. “He just passed away.”
In that moment, I felt everything still around me. There was no more coherence of time, place, or sound.
“I’ll be right there,” I somehow heard myself say, and ended the call.
The route of my cab was instantly changed to the John F. Kennedy Airport. Upon my arrival there, however, my nightmare continued. There were no immediate flights out to Connecticut.
♡
XANDER
I was awoken by an incoming call. For the first few minutes I ignored it, but then when it kept ringing, I searched for my phone by the bedside table and brought it to my ear.
“Hello?” I croaked.
“You’re sleeping in the middle of the afternoon?” David’s voice resounded in my ears. “Wow, Carson really did a number on you. When are you planning to come back to work? It’s been two weeks.”
I ended the call and tossed the phone away. It rang again so I found it to turn off and went back to sleep. A little while later, however, my doorbell began to ring. The shrill sound coursed through the apartment without stopping and came close to driving me insane. With a shout I got up and marched down the stairs, ready to kill David. This was the first time I had been able to sleep in two days.
I jerked open the door, ready to rain down curses on him, but when I saw instead who was there, I froze. There were tears coursing down her cheeks and it scared me more than anything ever had.
“Carson, are you alright?”
“I was calling you,” she cried. “Why didn’t you pick up your phone?”
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “I thought it was David. What’s going on?”
“I need to get to get Connecticut,” she pleaded, unable to control her tears. “Right now.”
“What happened?”
“My dad…” she said, and I didn't need any further explanation. I got dressed immediately and in minutes we were on our way to the airport. Almost an hour later, we arrived at Connecticut and then at the hospital where her father was. She approached his room one step at a time, and then when she got to the door she turned around to face me.
“I can’t do this,” she said.
I didn’t know what to do. The only time I had felt as helpless as I currently did was the night my own father also passed away.
“Do you want me to come with you?” I asked, and she nodded.
She held onto my arm as though for dear life and then we walked into the room to see her mother seated by her father’s bedside, quietly weeping. Her brother sat by the corner, watching his mother, his face also soaked with tears.
Carson let go of her my hand and walked toward her father. A sheet had been pulled over his face.
I turned around and took my leave then, but waited by the door, just in case she needed me. My heart ached for her, as I wondered how she would get through such a difficult time. I swore not to leave her and shut my eyes to offer a prayer to her deceased father.
♡
CARSON
A week later, my father’s funeral proceedings were done and both I and Xander were back in New York.
I was quiet and clung to him like I had all week, so when he asked me where I wanted to go, I had only two words in response. “Your home.”
We fell asleep on his bed together but when I awoke many hours later, I found myself alone on the bed. It was morning, and the rays of the sun were shining brightly into the room and upon my face. For the longest time, I couldn't bring myself to rise, so I just stared at the vast skyline beyond the windows and thought of my father.
Life keeps moving on regardless of what you think or experience. The truth of that statement saddened me more than ever before. I lifted my hand to wipe the tears that rolled down my cheeks, but then something sparkled at the corner of my eye.
I turned my gaze toward it and saw the diamond ring on my finger. My heart stopped beating. Somehow, I found my way down the stairs and stopped when I met Xander by the stove.
He turned around then to transfer the omelet he had been making to a plate and stopped in his tracks when he saw me.
The smile he gave me made my breath catch in my throat. “You’re awake,” he said but I just stared at him.
“I was going to come wake you. I made toast and an omelet. Or do you want something different? I can go out and buy it.”
I ignored his questions and lifted my left hand. “What’s this?”
He stared at the ring on my finger, almost as though he too were seeing it for the first time. “I bought that a while ago. The week I didn't come home after my fight with those executives. I forgot to give it to you then.”
“Why did you buy it?”
“I thought a ring on your finger would keep the pigs away. They didn’t know you were married.”
I lowered my hand and stared at the glistening heart-shaped diamond once more, almost too afraid to ask my next question. “Why are you giving it to me now?”
“Well, we’re still married, aren’t we?”
The tears filled my eyes then and he came over to me. “I can’t handle this right now,” I said to him. “Xander why is this on my finger?”
“I want you,” he said to me.
I raised my eyes to his. He continued. “Indefinitely. I don’t want to live without you. I don’t want this to be just my home, I want it to be ours. Will you have me?”
I lowered my face then as the tears poured down my cheeks and he reached out to draw me into his arms.
“I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “I love you… I don’t want to go through life without you.”
I pulled away from him and met his gaze. “What about your concerns?”
“I’m still afraid,” he said. “But I’m more afraid of not seeing you every day, and not having you cradle me at night. I’m more afraid that I won’t ever be able to kiss you again, or fuck you out of your mind.”
I laughed at the statement and covered my face with my hands.
“Say yes,” he pleaded, and I raised my head.
“Say yes to what?”
“Say yes that you’ll marry me, for real this time. I want to make the announcement this time around, to the whole world, that you’re mine. Forever.”
“Forever?” I asked, and he drew my lips to his for the sweetest kiss that he had ever given me.
“Forever,” he responded and wiped the tears from m
y face.
“Yes, Xander Cage,” I replied. “I will marry you. For real this time.”
THE END
New exclusive novel: Colt
Chapter 1
“Crap!” Chelsea muttered as her bag strap broke.
The impact of bumping into something hard resulted in the damaged handbag. If she weren’t in the hotel lobby, she would have sworn it was a brick wall. She knew better. Mumbling an apology she tried to grip the paper folder as it slipped through her fingers. The bag slid from her shoulder, falling with a soft thud, while the contents of the file folder scattered on the marble floor.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, stooping to retrieve her property.
She had been hastening to her interview with her eyes cast down. As she reached to retrieve the files, a sneakered foot stepped on the documents, smearing them. The foot moved off as she snatched up the paper, brushed it off and gathered her belongings. The owner of the foot did not stop to apologize.
When she stood, she looked in the direction in which the sneaker had gone and made out the back of a man with long, medium brown hair, which fell off his shoulder. His arms pushed from the sleeveless T-shirt he wore, and she could make out his well-defined triceps. His back was to her so she could not see his face. Nevertheless, she noted how rude he had been, walking away without as much as an apology.
She watched him for a second and was tempted to run after him, demanding an apology, but she knew she could never do that. She would die first before confronting anyone, let alone a man. Inhaling deeply, she watched him go through the hotel front door with his three companions, similarly dressed in jeans and T-shirt. She noted that one had a cap on backward.
Gripping her handbag to her chest, she straightened her back, continuing forward. This was Chelsea Downing’s first job interview. If things went well, she would be the assistant to the manager for Colt Montgomery, the rock star. She was nervous as it was, and now her letter of referral was ruined. She’d traveled several thousand miles to attend one last interview for the position, and some ill-mannered turd had ruined her letter.
She paused to smooth her mid-calf, blue and red plaid skirt, which flared at the hem. Adjusting her glasses, she examined herself. A frown formed on her forehead as she made out a small spot on her baby blue button down cotton blouse, right above the left breast. Briefly, she closed her eyes and hoped it was only visible to her.
She looked around the Violet Diamond Hotel lobby before heading towards the elevator. There were only three minutes left of her time. With hurried steps, she hoped that she could find the suite in time and not end up being late. That would be one more strike against her. When she reached the elevator, it was closing, and she slipped in just in time. Two men were in there, dressed in similar garb as her sneaker foot paper smearer. The description made her smile. One of the men eyed her, and she cast her eyes down with hunched shoulders.
“Where to?” someone asked, and she glanced quickly in the direction of the voice.
“23,” her voice came out in almost a whisper.
She continued her downward gaze and hoped no one would talk to her. When the doors parted, she let out a quiet, shaky breath and scurried through the door. The two fellows also exited. She continued down the hall, stopping at each door, checking the numbers.
“273,” she whispered as she passed by room 269. “273,” she repeated.
She moved along until she was standing in front of Suite 273. She double checked the address on a piece of paper and smiled. Her knees were wobbly, and her stomach churned, but she inhaled deeply, reaching a hand out to press the small white button.
Before she touched it, a hand reached out and swiped a card. There was a click, and the door opened a crack. Her emerald eyes darted up and made contact with soft brown ones. She gasped softly and stepped back.
The young man, about six feet with sandy blond hair that reached a few inches above his shoulder, smiled and opened the door. “Are you Chelsea? Reid is expecting you,” he said.
“Tha—thank you,” she stuttered, nodding before cautiously stepping inside.
“I’m Tony, a member of the band,” he said, moving past her into the expansive suite.
A man was sitting at a desk in a corner, chatting on the phone. She assumed him to be Reid Richards, the one she was there to see. He beckoned to her, pointing to the sofa a few feet away. She observed him. His hair was a few shades darker than Tony’s and was receding from the hairline. His was dressed in a dark blue suit, sporting a gold and diamond watch.
Chelsea’s eyes darted around the room. It was larger than most apartments. Certainly larger than the studio her friend Molly lived in. There were two doors to the right and another two to the left. She assumed they were bedrooms. Straight ahead, she could make out another area, similar to the one she was sitting in. Off to the left was a kitchenette and on the right was a mini bar.
She perched her derriere on the edge of the beige sofa as she waited for Reid to complete his telephone conversation. Tony had disappeared through one of the doors. She felt strange and out of place.
New York was not a place she liked. It was different from the small town of Norbury, Virginia, where she was born. This was her first time being away from home, which was a little bit daunting for her. She’d always dreamed of leaving after her friend Molly ran away. However, the reality was far different from her fantasies. New York was not what she envisioned. The smells were different, the noise deafening, and the people quite rude. A twinge of annoyance settled in her chest at the memory of her sneaker attacker.
The great thing about this job was that the band was always on tour, traveling around the country and sometimes abroad. They would be in New York another two weeks before moving on to another city. That meant she would not be stuck in one place for too long.
Reid hung up the phone and stood, a smile spreading across his face. She could tell it was practiced, but she had prepared a bright one of her own. He sauntered over, straightened his jacket before fixing his sleeves.
“Chelsea, I presume?” It was more of a statement than a question.
He reached a hand out, and she took it. It was neither warm nor cold, just neutral temperature. He clasped her smaller one tightly, gave it a firm shake and then let it go.
“Yes,” she said in her soft voice.
“I’m Reid Richards, we spoke on the phone,” he said, taking a seat opposite her.
His eyes traveled over her attire and came back to rest on her face. His smile hadn’t faded, but she could see that his lips were where the smile ended. His eyes were icy titanium, and they perused her sharply.
“I’ve prepared a room for you next door,” he said. “I can move you to a lower floor if you prefer. Where is your luggage?” he raised a brow.
“I—it’s—well, I thought this was an interview,” she replied, trying not to meet his eyes.
“We passed that phase on the phone. You checked out, so we’re good to go.”
He looked her up and down again, and her stomach did that little lurch which annoyed her so much. She felt a single stream of cold sweat leave her neck and trickle down her back. She squirmed at the tingle on her skin.
“Look, Chelsea, can I call you that, or would you prefer Miss Downing?” he paused and stared at her.
“Ch—Chelsea is fi—fine,” she stuttered and blinked nervously.
“Chelsea, I get that you’re a country girl, new to the city, but you have got to lose those clothes.”
Her heart took a leap up to her mouth, and she sprang to her feet, clutching her bag and file to her chest. What is this? she inwardly screamed. I never signed up for this. She wanted to bolt, but Reid was speaking again, and her mind went back to his voice.
“Easy now,” Reid’s voice softened, and he extended a hand. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I mean, you need to dress differently for the job. You know, more suited to the position.”
A snicker sounded behind her, and Reid’s eyes peered p
ast her. “It’s not like it makes a difference. It wouldn’t do any good anyway,” the voice was base chord, slightly gruff with a scornful tone.
She turned slowly to see who it was. She knew it wasn’t Tony’s, so it must be someone else. Tony had spoken to her, and his voice was softer, clearer. She hadn’t heard anyone enter and was curious who it was that was mocking her.
It was the guy with the long brown hair. So now, she got a good look at his face. Angular features, she noted, with a day-old stubble and fleshy pink lips. Her eyes traveled downward. She recalled the black muscle shirt and jeans. Her eyes dropped to his feet, and it was the same pair of sneakers. She would recognize them anywhere. She might be country, but she knew those sneakers were special edition from a famous sports legend. She had followed the latest trends in fashion and had briefly entertained the thought of working with a design company.
With a Bachelor of Science in Communication, she had to keep her options open. Though she didn’t dress the part, she was versed on the latest in music, fashion, and movies.
A small spark of anger within her chest quickly replaced her nervousness. She could feel the heat flush her skin, and she gritted her teeth. The guy smirked and sauntered away, disappearing in one of the rooms.
“Don’t listen to him, Colt has a huge chip on his shoulder,” Reid’s voice snapped her back.
She turned back to the band manager, with her breath coming in shallow gasps. So that’s Colt, she seethed. She was so angry that she wanted to do something, but she retreated into her shell and dropped her bottom back on the sofa. Hunching her shoulders, she allowed the anger to evaporate.
“We’ll take care of your wardrobe in time, okay, so relax and don’t worry about a thing,” Reid reassured.
He was staring at her. His eyes softened somewhat. She did not hold his gaze; she could never hold anyone’s stare, though she had wanted to stare Colt down. Take him down a notch.
Damaged Love Page 58
