Seducing Sarah - Book 5: The Advocate: Al

by Ami LeCoeur

  Seducing Sarah

  - Book 5 ~ The Advocate: Al -

  Ami LeCoeur

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Career Life Press

  Copyright © 2017

  Ami LeCoeur

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be copied or reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior written consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events, is entirely coincidental. All names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and situations are either the product of the author's imagination, or used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real.

  Releases

  Book 1 – The Shutterbug (Jimmy)

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  UK - http://amzn.to/2mqZDBi

  Book 2 – The Body (Tony)

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  UK - http://amzn.to/2niwoBN

  Book 3 – The Educator (Scott)

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  UK - http://amzn.to/2nFlkwo

  Book 4 – The Player (Kris)

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  UK - http://amzn.to/2n6EApe

  Book 5 – The Advocate (Al)

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  UK - http://amzn.to/2oUzBaM

  Book 6 – The Cider King (Jonathan)

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  UK - http://amzn.to/2ooQhZk

  Seducing Sarah - Full Series:

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  Book 5 - Summary

  Sarah Pilsner’s attempts to develop a meaningful relationship by her birthday are turning out to be a lot less successful and a lot less fun than she had hoped. But as disappointing as her love life is, that doesn’t stop her from moving forward with her work life and other commitments.

  At the office, her secretary Rhonda continues to step up to the challenges of taking on more responsibility, which gives Sarah hope for the potential expansion of her agency, especially with an interested investor on the horizon.

  After becoming more closely involved with the local women’s shelter, Sarah learns some disturbing truths that reinforce her commitment to the work they do. It also brings her into closer contact with the very attractive, very focused attorney, Al Compton. Coming from widely different backgrounds—his a ghetto neighborhood and hers a rural farm—she admires and appreciates the sincere dedication he has for helping the women at the Shelter. With such a good looking advocate on the board, she’s not disappointed when they are thrown into working more closely together.

  As their mutual attraction grows, Sarah begins to think that perhaps her luck has finally changed after all.

  Chapter One

  Holy Shit!

  Where was I? I tried to open my eyes, but only one of them would cooperate. And that one did so reluctantly.

  As I struggled to wake up, my first conscious thought was whether anyone had gotten the license plate of the truck that hit me. I didn’t need to sit up to feel the throbbing of my head. In fact, given the choice between moving and staying perfectly still, I chose to freeze in place. It was the only way I could guarantee my head wouldn’t fall off.

  What the heck happened to me? It didn’t take long for the fog of sleepiness to part just enough for the answer to come up.

  Right.

  Kris.

  Now I wanted to throw up.

  I thought back to what I’d had to drink the night before. I had a couple at the concert. Then I’d poured myself a glass of wine when I’d gotten home. Then at least one more. Certainly not enough to feel the way I did, like I might die at any moment. It had to be something else. I remembered crying endlessly—it seemed like hours. My face felt strange, stiff, like the tears had dried on my skin.

  So it wasn’t a hangover, or not entirely. Well, that was a good start.

  I pushed myself up slowly, tentatively, making sure I wouldn’t fall over. I couldn’t believe I felt so disoriented. This wasn’t like me. I wasn’t the type to wake up on a Sunday morning in a daze.

  Well, apparently you are, Sarah Jean. Otherwise, this is all a dream.

  Only it wasn’t a dream. Dreams weren’t so painful. I made a slow walk to the bathroom, checking out my face in the mirror. I was amazed that I could see at all, judging from the puffiness of my eyes.

  “What are you doing to yourself?” I asked. Was I a masochist? Why else would I torture myself the way I seemed to be doing the past few months? As much as I hated to admit it, it was as good an answer as anything else. I must be a glutton for punishment. I shook my head, then winced as the pain stabbed through my brain.

  Standing there, I lectured my sorry, sad face in the mirror. You might have been lonely before, but have you ever been so heartbroken, discouraged, or full of self-doubt? I wondered if there was some way to go back to the beginning and do it all over? Because I definitely needed a do-over. And my first step would be to talk myself out of the whole idea, to put the kibosh on anything having to do with men. That road wasn’t worth the pain.

  I desperately wanted to wash off all the dirty, grimy, slutty feelings left over from last night, but I’d spent forty-five minutes in the shower after getting home, and it hadn’t seemed to help. Besides, I couldn’t bring myself to get back into the shower this morning.

  For the moment, I settled on washing my face and brushing my teeth before climbing back into bed. But I tossed and turned. I couldn’t get comfortable, and I definitely couldn’t sleep. No matter how I tried to wish it away, the pounding in my brain wouldn’t stop.

  I grabbed the bottle of aspirin on the bedside table, swallowing a couple to help my head, then grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. If I spaced out, losing myself in some mindless drivel, maybe I could forget my headache. And my heartache.

  Tammy texted around noon. Where are you? What finally happened last night? You disappeared on me.

  I frowned. I’d promised to call Tammy, but the weight of my emotions was too much, too fresh. There was no way I could even think about rehashing the pain. And I certainly couldn’t bring myself to tell her the details. How I’d let Kris use me, how I’d let myself believe him when he told me I was special. What a joke. What a sad, sorry joke—on me. I pushed the phone away, unable to think about it just then. Instead, I picked up a book I’d left beside the bed so long it had started to collect dust.

  The shadows grew longer in the room as the day passed, and I drifted into and out of sleep, with a little reading in between. The light outside the window changed in quality, growing warmer. I got up only long enough to use the bathroom and get a snack or two—even the thought of making a full meal was too much to consider. I let my book and the background noise of the TV soothe me.

  My phone buzzed again, hours after the first text. I’m starting to get worried, Tammy said. I felt a pang of guilt. It wasn’t right to leave her hanging when I’d been the one to reach out to her for comfort when I texted from the club.

  I’m ok. I just have a bad headache and am taking it easy. We’ll talk later.

  It was just too soon. The pain would have to mellow, get further away. I wrapped myself in a cocoon with my fluffy down comforter, wishing I never had to leave my bed again. The world felt way too dangerous, and I was feeling way too vulnerable at the moment to even consider venturing out.

>   Why did I ever think I could handle dating again after that mess with Ronnie threw me into so many years of celibacy? He was the reason I’d sworn off men years earlier. I shut my eyes, leaning back against the pillow. I had to be in a pretty fragile state, or else I would never have let myself think about him.

  I could still remember that day I’d gone to his place after work. He knew I was on my way and had left the door unlocked. After six months of dating, we were pretty comfortable with each other. I had no problem walking into the apartment while he was in the shower.

  His laptop had been open, sitting on the coffee table, and I couldn’t help but notice what was on the screen. I’m no prude, but my eyes had nearly fallen out of my head when I found a porn site open—not just porn, but pretty hardcore stuff. It was one of those overly raunchy sites, and it upset me enough that I had to snap the top down, thinking I should go wash my hands with hot, soapy water to get rid of whatever I might have touched.

  I especially remembered the way he looked at me when I confronted him about it. He stood there glistening from the shower, his wet auburn hair combed back. Instead of being sorry, or even acknowledging how uncomfortable it made me to find that sort of thing staring at me when I walked into his apartment, he’d jumped on the defensive.

  I cringed, but couldn’t stop the entire scene from replaying in my head…

  “Hey, don’t blame me! It’s your fault,” he said, his mouth twisted in a sneer, “I’m a normal, healthy guy. I can’t help it if you can’t give me what I want, what I need. Sarah, I deserve more.”

  His words had crushed me. What did he mean? Wasn’t I enough? How could I be falling short?

  “Why didn’t you tell me? You never even said anything. Instead, you’re relying on… on porn?”

  He shrugged and turned away, and I’d been too upset to stay. I’d bit my lip to keep from saying anything else and left. Even then, I’d felt so guilty—so worried that there was truth in his complaints.

  The next day, over brunch with my friend Asia, I’d fretted over the terrible girlfriend I’d turned out to be. “I couldn’t be there for him the way he needed me to be. He felt like I couldn’t give him what he needed. How could I blame him for looking somewhere else, even if it was just on the internet?”

  The look on Asia’s face was more than a little startling. What she said next was even more so. I’d expected her to at least sympathize with my predicament. Instead, she’d gotten angry and turned it all around on Ronnie. Armed with a Bloody Mary in hand, she finally told me after I insisted she explain herself, that Ronnie had hit on her right after we first started dating seriously.

  “He was drunk,” she said, sipping her own drink. “And he gave me some sob story about how you’d shut him out, you didn’t understand him, blah blah blah. What was I supposed to do? I was at a bar with other friends. I didn’t have time to hash it out with him. So I patted him on the arm, said I was sorry, and turned to leave. Well, that wasn’t good enough. I guess when I made the mistake of being sympathetic, he took it as a green light. I don’t know.”

  “What did he do?” I asked, my stomach literally in knots.

  “He tried to make a move. I mean, he really tried. Grabbing me, pulling me in for a kiss. I was shocked that he would do such a thing, especially in public. I mean, I never gave him any idea I wanted him. He wouldn’t listen, and he wouldn’t stop, so I pushed him off me and was about to call a bouncer over to take care of him. Then, he, like, snarled at me. He gave me some line about how all bitches are the same. And then he told me that if I said anything to you, he would claim I tried to seduce him.”

  “Um, well, you know how Ronnie is,” I said, trying desperately to make excuses for him. “He’s a nut when he’s drunk. I’m sure he didn’t mean it. He probably didn’t remember it an hour later. He must have just had too much that night.”

  Asia’s eyes had widened, and she shook her head in disbelief. “Honey, I’m not the only one. Everybody knows what a creep he is. He’s hit on all of us at one time or another—all while the two of you were dating. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be the one to tell you, or to have you find out this way. But he’s the one with the problem, not you.”

  Even after we’d changed the subject, I’d gone through the rest of our brunch in a daze, barely able to wait until I got home to call Tammy. She was my best friend, and I could count on her to tell me the truth. I was devastated and needed a little reassurance that I hadn’t gone crazy.

  “Oh, sweetie.” My stomach dropped at the tone of Tammy’s voice. She knew, too. “I’m sorry.”

  “You knew? You knew, and you didn’t tell me?”

  “Sarah, would you have even believed me if I’d said anything? Or would it have driven a wedge between us? Be honest. How would you have reacted? Would you have hated me?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t know how I would have reacted.”

  “Listen. I’ve kept a close eye on everything. Waiting to see if you would figure things out for yourself. Looking for my opportunity to say something. If you had started getting more serious, believe me, I would have stepped in no matter what. Until then, all I could do was hope you would figure it out. I just couldn’t take a chance on losing you or our friendship, especially by trying to warn you about some asshole guy when you were smitten.”

  Her words ran through my mind again all these years later, depressing me even more. I’d been so blind, and it looked like that blindness hadn’t improved much with time.

  Suddenly feeling very tired again, I wished I could go to the office and bury myself in work, but I’d have to wait until the next morning. Right now, all I had was my so-so novel and Sunday night TV to keep my mind off my misery and out of the gutter.

  Chapter Two

  All right, Sarah Jean. This is a darned sight better than where you were yesterday. Now get to work.

  It was Monday morning. Bright and shiny Monday morning with the promise of immersing myself in the demands of my business. Anything that would take my mind off the drama. I didn’t need or want anyone to see how miserable I’d been.

  It was none of their business, anyway. My employees deserved an attentive boss, one who worked alongside them and was available to take care of business. Not some love-sick wimp who zoned out during weekly staff meetings. Yet that was exactly what I did that morning. I couldn’t pay attention no matter how hard I tried. It all seemed pointless in the light of recent events.

  Meanwhile, everyone went on as though nothing was wrong, which was a blessing. During our regular meeting, they’d given a presentation or two, during which time I nodded at the right places without having to utter a single word. Luckily, I could rely on the notes Rhonda took to catch me up later on.

  Then, Rhonda stood up, blushing slightly and obviously excited about her presentation. Shoot. Now I had to listen up. She and Ralph grinned at each other. They deserved my attention.

  “As you know, we’re working with a fresh, new wedding gown designer. I’m excited about this, as it’s so near and dear to my heart right now.” Rhonda giggled, and regardless of how I felt personally at that moment—about men or marriage—I smiled from across the table. “I seriously considered asking for a discount on a gown, but I thought that might come off as a bit unprofessional.”

  “Yeah, just a bit.” I shook my head, grinning at her enthusiasm in spite of myself.

  “Anyway, here’s what we’ve been considering.” She led off, going into the well-researched and carefully plotted ideas she and Ralph had come up with. I was impressed—she was really throwing herself into the work. When I looked around the conference room table, I saw that I wasn’t alone in my opinion.

  Eric, our staff photographer, seemed to love it. I guessed he was still in la-la land after his own wedding a few months earlier, so that probably colored his enthusiasm to some degree.

  “I love photographing wedding spreads,” he said. “There’s so much hope and promise.”

  Rhonda l
ifted a brow. “Maybe you could do my wedding. I need to start putting things together. And I could use all the help I can get.”

  “Hey, I’m here for anything you need,” he said. “I’m sure the wife has specifics on vendors and stuff, and I’m sure she’d be happy to help.”

  “Great, thanks.”

  I cleared my throat, reminding them how far off-track we’d gone. Rhonda blushed, returning to the work. No matter how happy I might be for her, I wasn’t in the mood to hear about weddings.

  It was a blessing when the meeting ended. For once, I was the first person out of the conference room rather than hanging back to answer questions or give direction. As soon as I entered my office, I closed the door behind me. Finally. I could breathe freely.

  I needed to get my head back in the game, first and foremost. I wasn’t about to spend the rest of my life brooding, or my professional life would be very short indeed. I sat behind my desk, taking a deep breath, forcing myself to focus on work.

  I shuffled papers for at least twenty minutes. Nothing seemed to capture my attention, so I pulled out my notes from the week before.

  “Rhonda, would you get Will Walters on the line for me, please?” I might as well start with Grant Lancaster’s proposal since it was at the top of the list.

  “Well,” my attorney said once I’d been connected to his office, “I went through everything with a fine-tooth comb, and I don’t see anything in here to be concerned about. In fact, it looks like this could be highly beneficial to both of you.”

  I sat back in my chair, chewing the inside of my mouth and unconsciously playing with the pencil in my hair as I considered his words. “How do you mean?”

  “Well, one of the options in the proposal is for you to expand, using Grant’s investment, but to still maintain most of the control of your part of the business. So you would both profit, really, since you’d be bringing in so much business for him, and he would fund your growth.”