And then he’d left. He’d disappeared on me and I’d been left behind with a broken heart and a mouth full of I-told-you-so’s from my mom who had told me he was only after one thing.
Apparently, I hadn’t been worth much more than sex. He’d taken my virginity and ripped my heart out along with it.
My dreams of a better life with him at my side had fallen apart. It hadn’t taken me long to put them back together again without him. I could still have a good life. I could still be someone, and I would make sure I didn’t need a man to get there.
I had one priority in life now: my independence.
My phone rang just as I got onto the main road that led to town. The screen was cracked, I could only tell the last four letters of the number flashing on the screen but I knew who it was.
“I’m on my way, Sonya,” I said the moment I answered.
“Good,” she said, not saying hello either. “I have an errand for you as soon as you get in.”
Was this how my life was going to be? Was she going to sit on my case even before I reached the office? It was only seven in the morning, for God’s sake.
I took a deep breath and focused on the road. This was just the first step, I reminded myself. It would get better - we all had to start at the bottom.
Despite the time, traffic picked up heading into the city. It felt good to be part of the start of rush hour traffic. I felt important. I felt accomplished. I had places to be, too.
A red light flickered below the gauges and I frowned. That wasn’t good. I wasn’t sure what it meant but it wasn’t good.
“Not now,” I said to the car. I just had to make it work. I was ten minutes out if traffic played along.
The traffic slowed to a crawl. Time was against me. I should have left earlier.
Slowly, smoke started curling from the hood of my car. At first, it was a thin tendril like nothing was wrong. I braked. The car behind me honked its horn so I crept forward again. What was I going to do? I couldn’t be late for this job. I couldn’t lose the only thing I had to hold onto.
The smoke got worse. I stopped again and switched on my hazard lights. The car behind me honked furiously and tried to get around me, pushing into the traffic in the next lane. There was nothing I could do.
I pulled the latch to open the hood and got out the car. I found the clip that held the hood in a place even when it was open and lifted it up. Smoke bubbled out from the engine. It smelled like burned oil and despair. I coughed, trying to hold my breath as I put the metal stick in place that held the hood up and stepped back. I turned around, gasping for breath.
What was I going to do? I knew how to open the hood of a car and that was the extent of my knowledge. Smoke wasn’t good but I didn’t know what it meant. Would it start burning? I didn’t even have anything like an extinguisher at hand.
I turned around and looked at the traffic. The cars now just merged with the other lane whenever they came close. I fished in my handbag for my phone. I needed to phone someone. But who? I couldn’t just dial nine-one-one – this wasn’t exactly an emergency – and I had no idea who else to call. Mama would do nothing, we had no insurance and I couldn’t see enough in my screen to use the web browser to find a number.
That, and the fact that I was going to be later than late for the job where the good first impression was so important. I hadn’t even made it to the office yet and I was already giving them a reason to fire me. I leaned against my still-smoking car and dropped my head into my hand, the other crossed over my stomach like I could physically keep myself together. My throat was swelling shut with threatening tears and my tongue was thick when I swallowed. What the hell was I going to do? How much bad luck did one woman deserve in life?
I took a deep breath and looked up again. I waved at passing cars. If someone would stop and help me I could make a plan. I could try and work my first month and pay for a mechanic with my first paycheck. None of the drivers made eye contact with me. I tried to get one of them to stop but it was like I didn’t exist. I couldn’t jump into traffic to stop them – I was almost sure they would run me down.
Time ticked on and the cars passed one by one, ignoring me, making the best of one less lane.
A roaring sound started up in the distance. It came closer and closer. I looked toward the sound. A man on a motorbike weaved in and out of traffic, driving in between lanes whenever he could. The bike was one of those old-fashioned ones with handle bars almost higher than the driver’s head. He wore sunglasses and a black bandana around his mouth with skull teeth but no helmet. Everything about him screamed trouble.
He stopped the bike behind my car and got off. I swallowed hard. I didn’t want this guy to help me. He looked scary. Scary and…hot. As he came closer I could see muscles bulged under his clothes, his shirt straining around his biceps. His jeans hung off his hips like he was doing them a favor and he walked like he was king of the world.
“Are you alright?” he asked. His voice was deep. He lifted his hands and pulled down the bandana, lifting the sunglasses onto his head at the same time. His icy eyes fell on mine and I froze.
Drake. The son of a bitch.
He blinked at me.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” he asked without missing a beat.
Did he not recognize me? Did he not know who I was?
He looked at my car, at the smoke.
“It looks like you’ve got a problem with overheating,” he said, walking toward the hood. I watched his strut, familiar now. His broad back and spectacular muscles were new. He’d filled out since high school. Still, I could remember the feel of his skin under my fingertips, his lips on my skin.
Echoes of my broken heart washed over me and I was suddenly angry. Who the hell did he think he was, walking up to me like nothing was wrong; like he hadn’t shattered my world?
I marched to him where he had his head under the hood of the car. I wanted him to get away from my car, from me, from everything in my life. I couldn’t do this again. It was all still there – the blue eyes, the swagger, the reason I had fallen for him in the first place.
I couldn’t afford to not hate him. He couldn’t be nice to me.
When I reached him, he looked up at me and his eyes, an impossible blue, froze me in place.
“Mind if I try something?” he asked.
I nodded, dumbfounded. He grinned.
“Just had to check that you don’t mind me getting down and dirty.”
I was angry right away. Angry, and blushing for some reason.
Damn Drake and his tricks.
Chapter 2
I wasn’t sure what he was trying to do, but after twenty minutes of tinkering around in my engine he dusted his hands on his jeans and shook his head. His skin was stained with black oil marks. I had to be in the office in less than fifteen minutes. Or I was going to lose my job.
My stomach turned. I struggled to breathe. I was stressed out and upset and flustered.
“I can’t do anything about this,” he said. “Your engine is overheating and I cooled it down but it’s not your water that’s the problem. I know a lot about bikes but cars aren’t exactly my thing.”He looked at the engine again.
I rolled my eyes. He knew a lot about bikes? Sure. Welcome to another part of Drake’s life that I didn’t know. Once upon a time, I thought I’d known everything about him. It had all been a lie, of course.
Even the way I thought he’d felt about me.
“I’m going to call someone for you,” he said.
“Please don’t.”
He stopped, his phone halfway to his ear, and blinked at me.
I took a deep breath. I didn’t want him to know that I wouldn’t be able to afford repairs. I didn’t want him to know that my life hadn’t gotten better since he’d left me – in fact, it had gotten worse. I wanted him to get onto his bike and drive off with the rest of the traffic so that I could forget him the way he had evidently forgotten me.
“It’s no trouble, reall
y. No one should be stranded by the side of the road.”
The traffic was still thick around us. We weren’t going anywhere in this jam.
“I’ll be fine, really,” I said.
Drake shook his head and made his call. He talked in to the phone for a while, laughing and joking like he was catching up with an old friend instead of calling for help. When he finally hung up he nodded at me and pocketed his phone.
“He’s on his way.”
I frowned. “Who?”
“A buddy of mine. He’s a mechanic. He’ll come out and tow you in.”
I groaned. My career was over. Being fired the first day on the job would never look good on a resume. I got into my car and slammed the door shut, locking it. Drake raised his brows at me, slipped his sunglasses back on and leaned against the side of my car. He pulled out a cigarette and lit up. At least one thing was still the same. He’d smoked when I’d met him, too. He’d started early. A rebel.
Smoke curled from the cigarette when he held it against his side. I watched him drag and blow, drag and blow. My phone rang.
Shit.
“I’m so sorry, Sonya,” I said into the phone. “My engine overheated. I’m stuck in traffic waiting for a tow truck.”
There was silence on the line for long enough that I was scared it was too late, already.
“I can’t work with someone who is unreliable,” she said.
I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel. “I know,” I mumbled.
She took a deep breath. This was where she was going to fire me. This was where it ended.
“You have a tow truck on the way?” she asked.
I sat back up. “I do.”
“What time do you think you’ll be able to come in?”
I had no idea how long it would take. I could be stuck here the whole day. I could be kidnapped by Drake and his unknown buddy. Everything could go wrong. Knowing Drake, it would.
“Nine, latest,” I said. I had to make this work.
Sonya was quiet for long enough again that I started squirming.
“Don’t disappoint me,” she said and hung up.
She had thrown me a lifeline. Against all odds, I had managed to get a little saving grace. And a few minutes later a rusted pickup pulled up next to the car. The driver jumped out, not caring about the other cars honking their horns at him and slapped Drake on the back.
This had to be his mechanic buddy. The guy looked scruffy enough. He wore tattered jeans stained with oil, a sleeveless shirt that used to be white and a goatee that was very out of fashion. I unlocked the car and got out.
Goatee turned around and looked me up and down.
“Well, hello,” he said.
“Cut the crap, Mouse,” Drake said.
Really? Mouse?
The guy – Mouse – walked to me and held out a dirty hand. I eyed it before taking it and shaking.
“Name’s Michael. You can call me Mouse. What’s the problem?”
“Joanna. And apparently, it’s overheating, but I don’t know.”
He nodded and walked around to the back of his truck. He pulled out a length of rope and walked to the front of my car. He crawled underneath it.
“I’m just going to tow you and we’ll see what this baby has under the hood.”
Oh, God. I glanced at Drake. He had a grin on his face that suggested he enjoyed my distress. It wouldn’t surprise me. His smirk was just as annoying and just as handsome as it had always been. He folded his arms over his chest and his muscles bulged, stretching out the shirt.
I looked away. I was not going to ogle.
“If you could just keep it for me for the day, I’ll arrange for it to be picked up, later,” I said. “You don’t have to... check what’s under the hood.” I cleared my throat.
“Let him help,” Drake said. “He knows what he’s doing.”
I was willing to debate that point. Michael – Mouse – looked like he had crawled out of a hole. Maybe that was where his nickname had come from.
When my car was hooked up I sat behind the wheel again, steering. Drake followed us on his bike. We weaved through traffic until we reached the first cross road when Mouse turned right. I didn’t have much of a choice but to follow him. We made our way through neighborhoods further and further away from the business district. The further we drove, the more my heart sank to my shoes. I wasn’t going to be able to get into work easily without calling a taxi. Taxis cost money. The money would only come at the end of the month, assuming I could retain this job that long.
I sighed and kept steering.
The workshop was an old warehouse with a parking lot full of cars that needed work. Some of them had their hoods up like they’d just been looked at. One or two were covered with so much dust it was evident they’d been here a while.
Mouse unhooked me from his truck and drove around the warehouse to park it somewhere. I got out of the car and marched to Drake who leaned against his bike, lighting up another cigarette.
“Is this funny to you?” I asked. I was angry. I was frustrated. “You think you can just waltz back into my life and pretend like nothing happened?”
Drake looked at me with a calm face. He dragged on his cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke away from me.
“Baby, don’t be like this.”
“Don’t you baby me! This is bullshit.”
He grinned. “You’ve always been cute when you’re angry.”
I was ready to slap him.
“You’re an asshole,” I said. My hands were balled into fists. If I swung now he would get my palm across his cheek – rather a fist in his eye.
“Hey, I helped you out when you were stuck.”
“That doesn’t trump the fact that you left without a word like I was a toy.”
His face softened when I said it. God, now he pitied me. There was only one thing worse than being disposable, and that was being pitied.
I hadn’t wanted to bring it up again. I hadn’t wanted to tell him that it had gotten to me. This wasn’t how I’d envisioned us meeting again. I had wanted to be a successful lawyer with expensive suits and no time at all for the likes of him. I had wanted to be someone he would regret losing. Now, I still felt small and insignificant in his eyes, and I had nothing in my life to counter that.
“That’s not how it was,” he said.
His voice was deep, low. God, I remembered that voice. It brought back memories of my skin against his, his lips against my ear. He used to use that voice on me when he was serious, when he told me how he would catch the sun and moon for me if he could. That was the voice I used to trust in, the voice that had been a dream, and then a nightmare.
“I don’t want to hear it. You left me. You left when I did nothing wrong. I’m not interested in your excuses now.”
Drake lifted the cigarette to his lips again. His eyes were like ice. I looked away.
Emotions that had been building all morning threatened to break through the wall I had in place and I swallowed hard. I forced myself to take a deep breath. This wasn’t about him, I told myself. This was about my future, my job, my life, money. He only triggered me. He was nothing. He meant nothing.
If I told myself that enough times I could start believing it.
Mouse appeared and I took a step back. He looked from me to Drake and back.
“Let’s have a look,” he said. Drake walked away, flicking red hot ash off the tip. The ember died out before it hit the ground. I shook my head and looked at Mouse.
“I just need to leave the car here for a while,” I said. “I didn’t budget for a service.”
That was diplomatic enough, wasn’t it?
Mouse shook his head. “No worries, lil’ lady. Any friend of Drake’s is a friend of mine. I’ll do it free of charge.”
I looked in Drake’s direction. He leaned against his bike again, smoking like he didn’t have a care in the world. It had to be easy when you were hot as hell and didn’t invest in anyth
ing emotionally.
“We’re not friends,” I said.
Mouse shrugged and opened the hood. “Sure,” he mumbled.
I rolled my eyes and checked the time. I had to get to the office.
“Do you by any chance have the number of a taxi service?” I asked. “I can’t access my contacts.
Taming The Billionaire Page 30
