by A. C. Arthur
“You know what, it doesn’t really matter. You are and will always be a pathetic loser trying to be something you’re not. No matter where I came from or what unsightly elements I’ve endured throughout my life, I’m still a good person and that counts for something. In your most expensive suit and with all the money in the world you will never deserve me.”
She’d turned to leave when she heard him laughing behind her.
“He’ll toss you out like the trash,” he called after her.
Lyra stopped, turned to face him once more and laughed herself. “Like the trash you’ve been sleeping with,” she said with a nod to the spot of smudged lipstick on his collar.
Chapter 17
“It figures the moment I think I’m taking control of my life everything spirals out of control,” Lyra said dropping onto the couch at Dion’s condo. She’d come here straight from work after receiving his text that he’d left the office early.
Dion took a sip from his glass of what Lyra knew would be rum and coke. Approaching her, he gave her the glass of red wine he’d poured and sat beside her when she took it from him.
“It’s nothing we can’t handle,” he told her. Always the optimist, she thought.
“I’ve never been in the tabloids,” Lyra confessed. “I don’t like it.”
“Nobody likes being in the news, especially when they’re being falsely accused.”
“But am I falsely accused? I was engaged to Mark when I slept with you. There’s no denying that fact.”
“But neither me nor my family betrayed Stanford. He was never anything to us, not family and not an employee. How could we betray him? And either way, the paper has a reputation. The majority of the sane world won’t believe a word it says.”
“And the insane world will believe it all.” She sighed.
“Come on, put it out of your mind.”
“How do you do that?” she asked. “How do you take this like it’s nothing more than an unsightly pimple and move on?”
Dion shrugged. “I’m used to it. You have to be in my position.”
“I’ve never been in your position. Until now.”
He emptied his glass, sat it on one of the cube tables and looked at her, putting a hand on her knee. “Listen, Lyra, when you have money and notoriety everybody wants a piece of you. Whether that piece is a look into your life through a tacky tabloid or it’s on a terribly scripted reality show, people will buy the paper and they’ll watch the show. It feeds into that small, curious part of them that wants to learn everything about someone they’ll never really know at all.”
“I don’t know why, but I understood exactly what you just said.” She smiled at him.
“That’s because you, unlike the people buying that tabloid and poring over every word it says at this very moment, know me very well.”
When he leaned forward to kiss her lips, Lyra closed her eyes momentarily. She let the intimate moment linger through the bad day she’d had.
“I could kiss you for hours,” he said, his lips touching hers once more.
“And I could let you,” she replied. “But I should probably go.”
“What? Are you on some kind of curfew now?”
He moved back a fraction and she took a sip of her wine. “I’ve been trying to reach my mom.”
Dion’s look sobered. “I thought you had her checked into rehab after the poison scare.”
“She left the hospital before they could transfer her.” She hated admitting that, even to Dion.
He inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly. “You tried her cell?”
“Going straight to voice mail.”
“Where’d you pick her up the other night?”
“South. Near the old neighborhood.”
Dion stood and looked back at her. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’m not letting you go riding around that neighborhood by yourself. You want to find Paula, we’ll do it together.”
“She’s my mother,” Lyra said coming to her feet. “I should go alone.”
“That’s not going to happen. So you’ve got five minutes to decide if you want to go get some dinner or look for your mother. Either way, I’m driving.”
* * *
An hour and a half later Lyra ran her fingers through her hair and sighed with frustration. “She’s not at any of her usual hangouts.”
“Paula’s resourceful. She’ll find someplace to sleep and she’ll take care of whatever she needs.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Lyra said, then quickly looked over at Dion.
He was driving his black Lexus LX with a look just as intent as hers. Not one word of complaint had been uttered from his mouth no matter how many run-down houses she asked him to stop at. And he never let her walk in one of them alone.
Lyra figured now would be the time he’d give her the lecture about trying to save her mother being a lost cause. But he remained quiet.
“Go ahead and say it,” she prompted.
“Say what?” He looked at her quizzically as he turned the next corner.
“Tell me I’m wasting my time. That my mother is never going to change unless she wants to. That I’m fighting a losing battle.”
He shook his head. “Why tell you what you already know?”
“Because you’ve been doing that for years now.” She looked out the window then. “I just never listen.”
“And that’s one of the reasons I admire you so much.”
“What?” she asked, turning to him again.
“You’re loyal to a fault. No matter what Paula’s done in the past, no matter what she does to you now, you won’t turn your back on her. You love her in spite of who and what she is.”
“I don’t know how to do anything else.”
He reached a hand over the console and squeezed her shoulder. “That’s because it’s who you are. No matter what I might think about the situation, don’t ever doubt your feelings or your instincts. You do what’s right for you.”
“Okay,” she said quietly. A wash of feelings hit her at that moment, hard and fast enough to have her shaking in her seat. She folded her arms and looked out the window again so Dion wouldn’t notice, but she was still quivering a bit when he turned onto the bridge.
“Where are we going now?” she asked finally.
“I’m hungry. You’re hungry. We’re going to have dinner, then go home. I’ll call some people and give them Paula’s description. We’ll find her tomorrow. All right?”
Lyra nodded, eternally grateful for this man. Her best friend. And now her lover.
Chapter 18
When the Donovans threw a party it was more like a production. The gorgeously scenic Four Seasons Hotel in Miami Beach set the stage for this year’s Children With Disabilities Wish Upon a Star Ball. In the Grand Ballroom, no less, calla lily and hydrangea centerpieces reached from crystal vases toward the ceiling in opulent sprays. Shimmering gold lights illuminated the room, while sparkling china dishes lined cream-colored table linens.
In the pre-event room, early-arriving guests were treated to a magnificent view of the blue-tinted Miami skyline and shimmering moonlit waters. The bars were open and drinks were flowing. Hostesses wearing pins with the Donovan Children With Disabilities Foundation logo mingled throughout the room, making sure all the guests felt welcome and appreciated.
The guest list included everyone from politicians to dignitaries, movie stars to music-industry execs and, of course, the Donovans. This year their family also welcomed Paul and Noreen Lakefield of the Lakefield Galleries. Noreen Lakefield had recently partnered with Alma Donovan to create Karing For Kidz, a program to help support the street children of South America as well as the orphanages in the United
States.
One of the Lakefield daughters, Deena, had married into the Donovan family, so she was also in attendance with her husband, Max.
No party could be complete without the remaining Las Vegas Donovans, Henry and Everette, who were brothers of Bruce and Reginald, along with their wives. The Triple Threat Donovans—Linc, Trent and Adam—were also in attendance. The family had truly shown up to lend their support for this yearly event.
And as Lyra walked in on Dion’s arm, she felt only slightly overwhelmed.
Dion wore a tailor-made Versace tuxedo, black with a white shirt, his silver-and-black vest adding just a touch of glitz to his stately appearance. He looked picture-perfect with his cleanly shaven face and close-cropped hair.
Regan had picked out Lyra’s dress. They were both wearing CK Davis originals, knowing that Adam and his wife, the designer Camille Davis Donovan, would be here tonight. Lyra’s was an elegant pink floor-length satin and chiffon gown that made her feel like a princess. The tight bodice and plunging V-neck gave her breasts a voluptuous appearance she’d never known she longed for, while the chiffon swept around her legs in feathery wisps. At her neck she wore a diamond choker with matching earrings and bracelet that had been a graduation gift from Bruce and Janean.
Regan lit up the entire room in her stunning strapless gold floor-length satin dress. She didn’t have a date and didn’t really seem to care as she made her way toward Lyra and Dion.
“Fabulous!” she cooed the minute she was close enough. Reaching out her hands she touched Lyra’s shoulders and turned her around. “I knew this was perfect for you. Don’t you agree, Dion?”
He’d told her the second she’d walked down the steps and stopped in front of him in the foyer of the Big House that she looked beautiful, but Lyra had the distinct impression he was talking about more than the dress. Even now when he looked at her again, there was something in his eyes that went beyond what he was seeing physically. She felt it deeper than that and warmed all over.
“It’s a great dress and she looks stunning in it” was his reply.
“Oooh, stunning. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him use that word,” Regan said with a wiggle of her eyebrows to Lyra.
“Stop teasing,” Lyra admonished and stepped out of Regan’s grasp. “Now, you look gorgeous. That color is almost glowing on you.”
“I know. I love it and it fits me perfectly. I can’t wait to see Camille to let her know how much I appreciate all the dresses she sent for us to try on.”
“Yes, I must thank her, too, for the four hours you had me locked in your bedroom trying on one dress after another,” Lyra said.
Regan waved a hand. “Oh, you loved it. And you look great. Now you two mingle. There’s tons of media here tonight.”
“And we could certainly use some good media,” Savian said soberly as he came to join them. He, too, looked GQ handsome with his perfectly fitting tuxedo, expertly clipped goatee and somber eyes.
Lyra instantly felt guilty. “I apologize for Mark’s story,” she said instinctively.
Dion frowned and Savian grumbled. “What are you apologizing for? You can’t help he’s an ass. I’m just glad you found out before it was too late.”
Savian’s words were meant to make Lyra feel better, she knew. But she didn’t. She hated that her lack of honesty with Mark had brought any harm to the Donovans.
“He just shouldn’t have done it,” she answered.
Dion took her hand, brought the back to his lips and kissed. “And there was nothing you could have done to stop him. But it’s fine. I told you we would handle it.”
She nodded, staring into his eyes and feeling the confidence and adoration she’d always longed for. “You did tell me that.”
“So the rumors are true,” a female voice said from behind and Lyra wanted to crawl into a corner and hide.
Instead she stood tall beside Dion as he pulled her even closer.
“Good evening, Mom, Dad.” He leaned forward to kiss his mother’s cheek, then was right back beside Lyra.
“Hello, Ms. Janean,” Lyra said nervously. Then she managed a smile. “Hi, Mr. Bruce.”
“Lyra, my girl, you’re a beauty,” Bruce said, pulling her away from Dion to give her a hug. “And you’ve been keeping secrets from me,” he whispered into her ear.
“I’m sorry,” she said as he pulled away.
“Nonsense. I want you happy. That’s all that matters.” Bruce’s words made Lyra feel a fraction better.
However, the way Janean was still looking from her to Dion had her knees knocking slightly.
“I wonder which one of you I should strangle first,” Janean said finally.
“I’ll take the brunt of that,” Dion said valiantly.
“You’ll both take it,” she snapped. “If there’s one thing I don’t tolerate it’s secrecy. Did you think your father and I were blind all these years?”
“What do you mean?” Dion asked.
“We knew there was something going on between you two,” Janean responded.
“And frankly we were getting tired of waiting for you to catch up,” Bruce added.
“But how?” Lyra said, hating that Regan was smiling at her and Savian was even looking a little amused.
“Like I said, we’re not blind.” Then Janean hugged Lyra close. “Why do you think I wanted you to stay at the house and not move in with that Mark character? I knew you just needed some more time to get it together.”
Amazed at how all this seemed to be going on around her without her having a clue, Lyra could only laugh. “I can’t believe this.”
“I know,” Janean said, moving away from Lyra to flatten her palms on the lapels of Dion’s tux. “I didn’t figure my son to be that slow to make a move.”
“Maybe he’s losing his touch in his old age,” Savian suggested, earning a glare from Dion.
“Don’t count on it,” was Dion’s reply about a second before he pulled Lyra into his arms and kissed her full on the mouth in front of everyone.
She supposed she should have been embarrassed, at least a little bit. Instead Lyra was warm all over and probably glowing to everyone else as Dion slowly released her but kept his arms around her waist. Looking up at him she wished they were alone, but appreciated the family that surrounded them with their love and blessings. This hadn’t turned out the way she’d expected. The revelation of her and Dion being together was actually better than she could have ever imagined.
* * *
“Long time, no see, cousin,” Trent Donovan said reaching out to shake Dion’s hand.
“Same here. You’re looking good,” Dion replied, giving his cousin the once-over in his tuxedo. “You clean up well. The last time I saw you, your team was investigating some family just south of here.”
Trent, part owner of D&D Investigations and ex-Navy Seal, nodded his head. “Right. Bailey and Sam Desdune were helping with that case. We never found the missing child.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Children were a soft spot for the Donovan family, as evidenced by the ballroom full of Donovan family members and all their supporters.
“It happens,” Trent said with a shrug. “But it makes me keep mine a little closer, you know what I mean?”
Trent had married model Tia St. Claire and together they’d had a son, Trevor. It hadn’t been until lately that Dion had begun thinking of starting his own family.
“I know exactly what you mean,” he said, glancing around the room hoping to catch a glimpse of Lyra. She’d gone off with Regan and Camille Donovan to talk about fashion shows and layouts for the magazine. But that had been a while ago.
“I hear there’ve been some rumblings going on out here in the papers,” Trent said, lifting a glass of champagne from one of the many trays full of them moving about the room.
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“Good news travels fast,” Dion replied dryly.
“Come on, we’re family. You know I keep my eye on things,” Trent said. “Besides, D&D Investigations has been keeping tabs on that Saldana woman for a while now. I sent you an email about her last week.”
“You did?” Dion was notoriously bad about checking his email, especially since Lyra was now here and he didn’t have to wait to hear from her via the internet.
“As soon as I came across pictures of you and her together I figured I’d give you a heads-up. She’s got some pretty unsavory friends.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
“I’m glad you seem to have made a much better pick.”
Dion smiled. “Much better. Besides, she was just a distraction.”
“A costly one. She’s fleeced more than one rich guy in her time. You seem to have been her youngest endeavor.”
“Really? I knew she had dollar signs in her eyes, but I wasn’t aware it was a full-time occupation.”
“It is.” Trent laughed. “There are a lot of them out there. It’s like a profession now, to be a gorgeous woman looking for the next paycheck in a rich man’s bed. I even have pics of her with your lady’s ex.”
That immediately had Dion’s attention. “Katrina’s been with Mark Stanford?”
Trent nodded. “She has. And both of them were seen recently in a not-so-glamorous neighborhood in Miami. Not real sure yet why. But since we’re tracking Saldana’s movements, I’m sure it’ll come up sooner rather than later.”
Something like dread shivered down Dion’s spine. “They were both in this neighborhood?”
“We’ve got pictures of the car, registered to Stanford. Both of them were in the car. Looks like they made some kind of drug buy, which isn’t all that surprising. Then Stanford went into a house and came back out.”
“Do you have the address of the house?”
“I do.” Trent reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. After a few minutes of what Dion supposed was scrolling through files he read off an address.
