“Give us just a few moments, please,” Anderson told him.
“Sure, monsieur,” the waiter replied and walked off.
“What is it, Angela? I would like to think that you would be able to talk to me about anything,” he said in a soft, comforting voice. His face showed genuine concern.
“Well … I ... um,” Angela stammered, fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat. Anderson reached across the table and took her hand.
“Angela, please. What is it?” His gorgeous eyes were searching hers. It made her heart melt.
“Well, I was just … um … wondering. What are we? You know?” She looked at him with questioning eyes. “I mean, I always enjoy myself in ways I never have before when I’m with you. I’ve never felt so alive, so free, and so happy. But I want you to understand that if I am only a phase, only a passing fling, I am okay with it, as long as I get to spend as much time with you as possible while it lasts.”
Anderson grew quiet for a moment, as if allowing her words to fully sink in.
“How do you feel about me, Angela?” he asked her with a soft, but serious look on his face.
“Honestly? I am in love with you, Anderson. I have been for a while now. I just wasn’t sure how you felt about me, so I didn’t want to bring it up. I didn’t want to make things weird between us, you know?”
“Are you still seeing that Mark guy?” he asked her.
There it was. He knew about Mark. Actually, Angela wasn’t all that surprised that he knew. She knew Anderson was no dummy and that he had friends and associates all over the area. She just hadn’t been sure whether he cared or not. Angela lowered her head, feeling just a tad bit ashamed for some reason.
“Mark and I have a past. He wasn’t the worst boyfriend in the world, but he wasn’t the best either. He came back into my life right before you and I met. I never thought that you and I would end up where we are, and I wasn’t sure if we were going to be a serious ‘thing’ or just a passing ‘fling.’ So, I guess I was sort of keeping him around as … insurance of some sort, kind of a back-up plan.”
“Just in case things between you and I didn’t work out,” Anderson added. It was more of a statement than it was a question. He said it as if he had known all along.
“Please understand, Anderson, I have never met anyone like you before. You are a man who has everything in the world and you could have any woman you wanted. I was just scared that whatever you saw in me would eventually wear off, you know? I was afraid you would get bored with me and move on to the next new and exciting young woman who happened to catch your eye.”
Anderson listened to her quietly, allowing her to completely state her piece.
“If you could have your way, what would you want us to be?” he asked her.
“If I could have my way, Anderson, I would want to be with you for the rest of my life,” Angela answered.
“I want to tell you something that I probably should have told you a while ago,” Anderson began. “I have dated plenty of different kinds of women in my lifetime. Models, actresses, dancers, you name it, women from all kinds of different backgrounds and social statuses. You see, it’s easy to find a woman, but it’s very hard to find a woman like you.” He emphasized the word “you” and looked directly into Angela’s eyes. “You are beautiful, intelligent, driven, independent, yet still so submissive, and you are also sweet, kind and amazing in bed. You are the kind of woman I could see myself settling down with.
“You are happy whether we go to a 5-star restaurant or a have a turkey sandwich picnic in the park. You don’t need any of the things I choose to do for you, but you appreciate all of them. I can trust you with my business, and I feel like I could also trust you with my heart. I just didn’t understand what it was about that Mark that you just couldn’t seem to let him go. So I wasn’t sure if this was where you truly wanted to be. So I just never pressed the issue.”
Angela’s eyes filled up with tears of happiness that threatened to spill over and run down her cheeks.
“So what are you saying, Anderson?” Angela asked in soft voice, barely louder than a hoarse whisper.
“I’m saying that I want you to be my woman and my woman, only. If that’s what you want as well,” Anderson replied, giving her hand a little squeeze.
“Oh, Anderson! That’s exactly what I want! I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life!” Angela allowed her tears of joy to run freely down her cheeks. She was overwhelmed with emotion. She reached out and grabbed Anderson’s other hand and squeezed them both.
“These are the only tears I ever want to see in your eyes,” Anderson said, reaching up to wipe one of them away. Angela smiled at him as another tear replaced it. He leaned in and kissed the other tear as he placed something in her hand.
“What’s this?” she asked him, wiping away a stray tear.
“I want you to go in the ladies’ room and put it in your panties, right up against your clit. I have the remote in my hand. When you come out, you’re going to call this Mark character and tell him it’s over.”
Angela’s heart began to race again. This time, it was with excitement. She grinned at Anderson and leaned in to give him a kiss on the mouth.
“Order for me, will you?” she asked with a wide smile and then hurried off to the ladies’ room.
Epilogue:
Angela and Anderson became an exclusive couple and she broke things off with Mark, for good. She and Anderson enjoyed many more erotic lunch dates, dinner dates, and steamy, passionate nights together. Maxine fully recovered from her illness and eventually had the baby she always wanted. She made Angela the godmother. Mark met a new young woman at his job and soon got over Angela. Anderson eventually promoted Angela to his executive manager and proposed to her a year later.
THE END
Shattered: A Billionaire Romance
A beautiful artist is the victim of a savage attack just two days before her lavish Upper East Side wedding. Lila Tierney is stabbed and left for dead and her handsome billionaire fiancé arrested for her attempted murder. Can Lila recover from her terrible injuries in time to save her betrothed from a life in prison? Lila fights for her life while everything falls apart and she is left wondering who to trust – and who to love…
Shatter Me
Part One
Now…Upper East Side, Manhattan
Lila stepped out of the dress, smiling as the assistant gathered the fabric up and stood, her eyes questioning. Lila nodded. ‘It’s perfect, thank you. I’m sorry you had to make those alterations, but Richard’s mother is a lot slimmer than I am.’
The assistant, Tess – they’d become good friends in the months since they’d met – rolled her eyes. ‘Oh stop. I’d kill for your curves.’
Lila flushed and thanked her as Tess turned to go. Lila looked in the long mirror at her reflection. This was really happening. Lila Tierney, artist, orphan, native of Seattle, Washington was marrying into one of the oldest, wealthiest of New York families. She who had spent many a night sleeping in her car because she couldn’t make rent or making a bag of rice last for a week. Stealing apples from neighbor’s trees with her best friend Charlie when they were kids in the children’s home.
Eighteen months since Richard’s proposal and she couldn’t quite believe the whirlwind that had overtaken her life. Now here she was, in the most exclusive bridal boutique in Seattle – one that was by invitation only – trying on dresses for their wedding. Thankfully Delphine – Richard’s effortlessly chic mother – had offered her own wedding dress, and although Lila had been skeptical, it was perfect, simple, light, comfortable but classic.
Lila shook her head. Jeez, what on Earth had happened to her? She wasn’t the type for tradition – or even marriage – but the joy she had seen in Richard’s eyes when she had agreed to marry him…his happiness made her glad. And his family – far from the Upper East Side snobs she’d expected – were welcoming, warm, especially Delphine who had taken the shy Lila under her wing and mad
e her feel a part of their family. Delphine, the mother to five, didn’t play favorites with her children but did with their partners; Lila was her buddy, her pal and Lila was very fond of the older woman.
Her cell phone beeped. A text from her best friend, Charlie. How’s it going?
She called him back, her chest warming when she heard his deep, loving voice. ‘Delphine’s dress…it’s perfect, not over the top, but just…me.’
‘I’m glad to hear you’re not going too Upper East Side for me.’
She smiled down the phone at her old friend. ‘Hey, West Coast, Best Coast, always.’
‘Glad to hear it. Look, I might come and meet you, take you for lunch. I could be there in five minutes.’
She gave him the address. ‘I’m starving, so hurry.’
‘When are you not hungry, Fatty?’
She blew a raspberry down the phone and hung up, grinning to herself.
She dressed hurriedly, snagging her hairbrush and dragging it through her tangled, shoulder-length dark hair. Her simple cotton dress was pink and made her golden skin glow, her big violet eyes wide and shining. She smiled at her reflection. Lately, her face always seemed flushed and excited, and Lila decided it suited her.
She finished tidying herself up, grabbed her purse and pushed the curtain of the dressing room aside. She started as she saw a man, a ski mask covering his face, standing directly outside the cubicle then as he clamped a hand over her mouth and pushed her against the wall of the fitting room, she saw it. His knife. Without hesitation, her attacker drove the blade into her belly again and again.
Pain. Unimaginable pain.
Even if she could have, Lila had no time to scream.
Now…
Blink.
Pain. Someone screaming. She could smell blood.
Blink.
Someone talking to her. Lila? Sweetheart, can you hear me? Charlie. Help me.
Blink.
She’s losing too much blood; we have to get her to the theater now. Urgent, urgent.
Blink.
Who would do this?
Blink. ‘We’re putting you under now, Lila, just relax.’
Who did do this?
Blink.
Who would?
Who?
Eyes closing now, darkness.
Who?
…and why?
Three years earlier…East Village, Manhattan
Lila wiped down the bar as Mikey, the bar owner, locked the doors. It was a Saturday night - actually, it was Sunday now, Lila thought, glancing at the clock. Three a.m. and she had one last chore to do and then her bed was calling her. Mikey smiled gratefully at her.
‘Seriously, Lila, if you hadn’t volunteered to stay and help me clean up, I’d be here until Tuesday. What a night.’
‘Well if you will offer half-price beer…’
‘Wait…what?’
She grinned at him. ‘Kidding. Dude, I have Machiavellian reasons…Charlie and I were thinking about going to Seattle for a week. See the old stomping ground. Any chance I could get a week off soon?’
Mikey considered. ‘As long as we arrange cover, I don’t see why not. I’ll even throw in a week’s vacation pay in advance.’
Lila goggled at him, her large violet eyes wide. ‘Seriously?’
Mikey grinned as he stacked chairs on tables. ‘Of course, you think I’m a tyrant?’
‘I do not; I think you’re the best, thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. So tell me again…why aren’t you and Charlie a thing? Apart from him being the scariest mofo this side of the Hudson.’
Lila rolled her eyes. Since she’d started here a year ago, juggling bar work with her studies at the School of Visual Arts, she’d fallen in love with New York and the constant activity of it. Her best friend Charlie, the boy to whom she’d grown up closest to in the children’s home, now a police detective sergeant, had transferred with her from Seattle, much to her surprise and gratitude. They’d shared an apartment for a few weeks before Lila decided she wanted to see if she could strike out alone. Charlie had been understanding, had even helped her move out, and she was glad that their friendship was as strong as ever.
Charlie, a few years older than her at thirty-four, was a hard read for anyone who didn’t know him as well as Lila did. A serious, intense man, he nevertheless had no lack of female attention with his brooding, almost dangerous looks. His last girlfriend had reluctantly broken up with him when she realized he was never going to propose to her and since then he was the king of the one-night stand. Most nights, though, he would hang out with Lila, happy to watch TV. while she studied; he even cooked for her.
Lila adored Charlie, had done so since they were young and lived at the children’s home in Seattle. He had been fourteen; she had been a toddler when he took her under his wing. When she was nineteen, she helped him celebrate his thirtieth birthday by drinking (illegally) way too much tequila – it was the one and only time their relationship had turned sexual. Lila lost her virginity to Charlie that night, and while it was a wonderful, sensual night, they had never repeated it. Too much history and Lila was afraid of souring their friendship.
So, now, as she smiled at her boss, she shook her head. ‘Friend zone 101. And he’s not scary, he just keeps to himself. Admittedly,’ she laughed to herself, ‘he is the king of Resting Bitch Face. But, Mikey, if you knew him…he’s the kindest, warmest person ever.’
Mikey harrumphed. ‘I’ll take your word for it.’
There was a knock at the door that surprised them both. Mikey glanced out of the window and chuckled. ‘Speak of the devil…’
Charlie nodded as Mikey opened the door for him. ‘Thanks, man.’ His face softened when he saw Lila. ‘Hey, Snooks. On a night shift so thought I’d come give you a ride home.’
‘She could do with one,’ Mikey muttered, with meaning and Lila, flushing swiped at him then went to hug Charlie. ‘You’re a lifesaver.’
Outside, Charlie’s partner, Riley Kinsayle, a cheerful blonde detective grinned at her. ‘Hey, gorgeous. Still single?’ Riley, who had an enormous crush on Lila, never let the chance to flirt with her go by. He was the absolute antithesis of Charlie – open, gregarious, cute as all hell, with his messy blonde beard and a wide grin. If he hadn’t been Charlie’s partner then, Lila told herself, I would absolutely date Riley, but it was that ‘you don’t date your best friend’s friends’ thing. Occasionally, alone at night, Riley would creep into her fantasies – and sometimes, she grinned to herself, Riley and his twin brother, Woods – who admittedly was gorgeous but a real piece of work as well.
She pushed that thought away now as she climbed into the back of the car. Riley turned around. ‘Hey, you wanna ride up here? On my lap?’
She laughed and kissed his cheek. ‘Raincheck?’
‘You better bet ‘raincheck.'’
Charlie got into the driver’s seat and grinned at them both. See? Not scary, Lila thought fondly.
‘You want me to book this guy for harassment?’ He said to Lila, his voice a deep, slightly flat tone.
She grinned. ‘No way. If he stops, then you can book him for non-harassment.’
Riley laughed and high-fived her as Charlie gave a grunt. ‘That’s not a thing, you know.’
He pulled the car out onto – for New York – a quiet street and turned the car towards the Brooklyn Bridge. They chatted casually until suddenly Charlie slammed the brakes on and was out of the car, weapon drawn. Riley opened the car door. ‘Stay here, beautiful.’
Lila sat up, alarmed. Charlie and Riley ran to an alleyway where she could see a group of men gathered around someone on the floor. She watched as the two detectives approached, then as the group hurriedly disbanded, Charlie giving chase while Riley helped whoever it was to their feet. As Riley brought the figure nearer, she saw it was a young man, covered in blood, barely able to stand up. Lila opened the door and got out.
‘Jesus…here, Riley, put him in the back seat, and I’ll take
care of him. Go help Charlie.’
Riley, grim-faced, nodded, although clearly not happy about leaving her alone with the injured man. He slotted him into the back seat of the car and Lila got in next to him, pulling off her over-shirt and using it to wipe some of the blood from the man’s eyes. He was obviously dazed, blood pouring from wounds on his face and jawline. He winced as he gently touched his face.
‘I think you’ve broken your cheekbone,’ she said gently, ‘not that I’m an expert. We’ll get you to the hospital, I promise, as soon as the guys come back.
She dabbed the blood as best she could without hurting him. After a while, she saw he was staring at her and smiled at him.
‘You’re really beautiful,’ he said in a cracked voice, and she chuckled.
‘And we’ll get you checked for concussion too,’ she joked, although concussion was a very real possibility in this case.
He smiled. He was good-looking, even with a messed up face, dark wavy short hair, and deep chocolate brown eyes, so full of pain at this moment that she couldn’t help smiling back and her heart began to thump just a fraction faster. ‘What’s your name, angel?’ His voice, still broken, was rich and warm.
‘Lila,’ she said, ‘Lila Tierney. And who are you?’
The man raised his hand and gently cupped her cheek. ‘Lila…I’m very, very pleased to meet you…I’m Richard…’
Now…Lenox Hill Hospital, Manhattan
‘Lila? Lila, dear, I’d like you to wake up now…it’s okay, just open your eyes.’
The woman had a soothing voice, and Lila wanted to do as she asked, but she was afraid. What would she see? Was she dead or alive?
Pain. Oh god, there it was, the wracking, searing agony she’d first felt when that knife had sliced mercilessly into her flesh. Instantly, she was back in the dressing room, smiling as she pulled the curtain back, then the shock, the breath being wrenched from her body as she was stabbed. Her attacker – her killer? – grunting as he attacked her, vicious, cruel blows. Him. A man. God help me…
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