A familiar fist pummeled his gut more viciously than ever. He wanted to scream. For the nine-year-old boy who’d lost both his parents within a few months of each other. One in a horrifying car accident.
To complicate matters even more, he was also seething with jealousy that Holly had given her hand in marriage to another man. Any other man! Irrationally, he wanted her only for himself.
Ethan clenched his teeth and read on while Holly clutched her own copy of the fax.
Brother Vincent Motta, age twenty-six.
Well-regarded employee at Benton Miami office.
Mother Sally Motta, age forty-eight.
Dozens of jobs, ranging from waitress to telemarketer to factory employee. No position held longer than six months. Never married. Motta appears to be maiden name.
Father of Holly Motta—unknown.
Father of Vincent Motta—unknown.
Unknown whether Holly and Vincent have the same father.
It was hard to say whose story was sadder—his or Holly’s.
Her lower lip trembled uncontrollably until a sob erupted from her throat. “So now you know everything, Mr. Benton!” she cried. “Do you want to share my humiliating past with everyone in the ballroom?”
As tears rolled down her face she shivered in the cold and used both hands to rub at her bare arms.
“I do not know what I want to do!” Ethan shouted—uncharacteristically.
He yanked off his tuxedo jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “If you had given me all this information at the outset I could have discussed it with my team.”
“Discussed it with your team?” She pulled the jacket closer around her. “What would you have done? Created a new identity for me? Erased the past? You masters of the world think of everything, don’t you?”
“That is exactly what we have been doing, is it not? We have dressed you up and presented you as a suitable bride for me. Which is what we agreed upon in the beginning.”
“Yes. Playing dress-up. Pretending someone like me could be suitable for someone like you. My mistake, Ethan. I thought we had become more than our contract. I thought we had...” She eyed the ground again. “I thought we had become friends.”
He blamed himself for this predicament. It had been insanity to hire someone he’d only just met for this charade. In fact the whole ruse had been preposterous. Paying someone to pose as his fiancée in order to get Aunt Louise to retire. His heart had been in the right place, but he’d had a temporary lapse in judgment.
In fact he’d been deceitful to Aunt Louise. The one and only woman in his life who had always been truthful with him. Although he knew that no matter how big a mess he’d made of everything his aunt would still love him. That he could depend on.
For one of the only times in his life Ethan didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to reckon with all the events of the past few days. Just as he didn’t know where to put the decades of shame that had mixed with the years of phenomenal successes.
And he surely didn’t know how to make sense of his feelings for Holly. For once he was out of his league.
After a stare-down with her that had them both turning blue with cold, logic set in.
He wondered aloud, “How did Fernando get this fax from Chip Foley?”
Holly explained how she had seen Fernando take a fax from the machine when they’d had him and Louise over for dinner. Because Fernando used the apartment during his trips to New York, she hadn’t thought it unusual that he’d receive a fax there.
“That weasel...” Ethan scowled with disgust.
All along Fernando had been conjuring up ways to ruin Ethan’s engagement because he didn’t want to move to Barbados with Aunt Louise. He no doubt planned to use Holly’s history as a way to prove her an unbefitting bride.
“I will deal with him later. We will sort all this out later. For now, we will go back inside and finish the evening as planned.”
“Okay,” Holly whispered, but it wasn’t convincing. She looked utterly shell-shocked with his jacket grasped tightly around her. The rims of her eyes were red and her makeup had smeared.
“I will slip back into the ballroom. You will go up to the suite and pull yourself together. I will meet you back at the table.”
“Yes,” she consented.
Ethan only hoped she’d be able to get through the rest of the night.
Once inside, Holly handed him his jacket and ducked toward the exit. Ethan soon got roped into a conversation with a Swedish architect. He returned to the table just as the wait staff cleared the salad plates. His and Holly’s were untouched.
Ethan made small talk with his tablemates as the main course was served. Over and over again the information in the fax repeated itself in his brain. And he kept glancing in the direction Holly should be returning from. It seemed to be taking her an inordinate amount of time.
Guests were enjoying their surf-and-turf entrées of lobster and filet mignon. A pleasant buzz filled the ballroom.
Still no Holly.
Maybe she’d fallen and hurt herself.
Maybe she’d been taken ill.
Maybe she’d been so upset by the fax that she was crying her eyes out.
Ethan had to go find her. But just as he was about to get up the president of the board of shareholders, Denny Wheton, stood from his seat at the next table. A spotlight landed on him. A waiter gave him a microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen...” Denny began.
Ethan scanned the whole ballroom for Holly, his insides filling with fear that Denny was going to make a toast to them.
“On behalf of the shareholders’ board,” Denny continued, confirming Ethan’s worry, “I want to express our delight at the news of Ethan’s engagement. As Louise said earlier, we’ve watched Ethan become the driving force of Benton Worldwide. His father and uncle would be proud. As to his bride...we haven’t had a chance to get to know her yet, but we’re sure Ethan has chosen her with the same diligence and discernment he puts into all his endeavors. To Holly and Ethan! Congratulations!”
Guests at the other tables lifted their glasses.
“Congratulations!”
Voices came from every corner of the room.
Ethan froze as a second spotlight beamed onto him. Hadn’t Denny stopped to notice that Holly was not in her seat? He’d probably had too much to drink.
“Holly?” Denny called into his microphone.
The congratulations ceased. The room became silent.
“Holly?”
A microphone was handed to Ethan.
Who had to think fast.
“Thank you for your good wishes,” Ethan stated robotically.
He’d kill himself if something bad had happened to her.
“I apologize that Holly is not present for this toast. She is feeling a bit under the weather.”
“Under the weather?” Denny boomed into his microphone. “Under the weather? Will Benton Worldwide be introducing the next generation’s CEO nine months from now?”
The ballroom exploded with applause and cheers.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HOLLY HAD NEVER been so relieved to be home in her entire life. She toed the apartment door closed and leaned back against it. With a deep sigh she dropped the couple of bags she had retrieved from the hotel suite before catching a taxi.
She closed her eyes for a few breaths, hoping to shut out all that had happened.
When she opened them again everything was still the same.
Only she had made matters worse by running away from Ethan and the gala.
En route to the bedroom, she heard her crystal gown swish audibly in the quiet of the apartment. A sound that hadn’t been heard under all the activity at the gala. The sky-high heels were killin
g her, so they were quickly nudged off.
It was a struggle to reach the zipper of her dress. Much nicer earlier tonight, when Ethan had zipped her in. Eventually she was carefully able to wriggle out of the dress. Her impulse was to leave it pooled on the floor, but the adult in her at least managed to put it on the bed.
This gown wasn’t her life.
Her jeans and tee shirt were familiar friends.
This wasn’t her home.
It was time to go.
Time to cut her losses.
Holly had too much experience with that. Her marriage. Her mother. False hopes and grand promises that hadn’t panned out. This was simply another.
With her tail between her legs, it was time to take two steps backward and keep striving for that next step ahead.
Sure, memories of New York would sting. Memories of Ethan would slice deeper than any wounds she’d ever endured before. But she was no stranger to pain.
Besides, she was supposed to be working on herself. Not getting mixed up in someone else’s priorities. Not falling in love. This was the wrong road. Time to change direction.
Packing her clothes took less time than she’d thought it would. It was still the middle of the night. With plans to leave in the morning, she paced the apartment.
In the living room, the paper ring Ethan had made from his beer bottle label still sat on the coffee table. The one he’d used to propose to her with. When he had asked her to embark on a business venture that was not to become a matter of the heart. For the moment she still wore the enormous diamond that had been on and off her finger all week.
Holly rolled the ring round and round on her finger. She thought about the symbolism of rings—how the circle could never be broken. It had no beginning and it had no end. Continuous. Lasting. Eternal.
Undying love was not her and Ethan’s story.
Their tale was of two people who had crossed paths in a New York City apartment. Now they both needed to continue on their separate journeys. Ethan built skyscrapers, but was determined not to build love. Holly had a past she could never escape.
His investigation into her hadn’t even uncovered all her dirty laundry. He hadn’t found out that she wasn’t sure if the man who’d shown up every few years while she was growing up was really her father. Despite her mother’s insistence that he was.
Wayne had been nice enough to her and Vince when he’d pass through town. He’d take them to get some cheap clothes that he’d pay for with a short fold of twenty-dollar bills he’d pull from his front pants pocket. Then they’d be shuffled off to a neighbor’s house so that he could spend time alone with their mother.
Neither Holly nor Vince looked like him. But nor did they look like each other. It wasn’t something they talked about much. They couldn’t be any closer than they already were. What difference did it make? They could have DNA testing, but it wouldn’t matter.
So she had never known whether she and her brother were half or full siblings. Or who their father—or fathers—were. They shared the same eyes as their mother. That was all Holly could be sure of.
Sally’s blue eyes had been cloudy and bloodshot the last time Holly had seen her, five years ago.
Vince! Sorrow rained down on her. Her actions—lashing out at Ethan about the investigation and then abruptly leaving the gala without a word to him or to Louise—would cast an unprofessional shadow on Vince.
Her knees buckled and she sank down to the edge of a chair, vowing never to forgive herself if she had ruined her brother’s chances at the promotion he’d worked so hard for.
Head in hands, she began to cry for all she and Vince had lacked when they were children. Not just material things, but adults to provide the care that every child needed. As much as they had looked out for each other, they’d always have holes in their hearts.
She wept for this week—for this failed chance to catapult her career to a potential high. For this lost opportunity to turn her goals into reality.
And she sobbed because she’d unexpectedly found a love in Ethan truer than any she could have imagined.
A love that the crux of her knew she would never have again. But she wasn’t able to claim it.
Numbly, she picked up her phone. “Vinz...?”
“What’s wrong?”
Only her brother would know after one syllable that she was shattered.
With the back of her hand she wiped the tears from her face. “I guess New York is not how I thought it would be.”
“You wouldn’t be the first person to say that.”
“The thing is, I sort of think I’ve let you down.”
Holly stopped herself there. She didn’t have to explain everything right now. Maybe Ethan wouldn’t hold all this against Vince. At this point she didn’t have any control over the situation. All she had was regrets.
“Why would you have let me down? Because you took a shot and it didn’t pan out? At least you did it.”
“I’m just licking my wounds. I want to come home.”
Where was home? She’d given up her dingy apartment in Fort Pierce to pin everything on her future. Neither she nor Vince had any current information on their mother’s whereabouts.
“Fly here to Miami. My garage is yours to paint in. And my sofa bed has your name on it. I’ll pick you up at the airport.”
After the call, Holly took inventory of the mini art studio she’d set up by the window. Methodically she cleaned brushes. Tucked sketches into portfolios. She organized neatly, remembering the open tube of paint that had started this magical ride in New York. Cobalt Two Eleven all over her face.
Her gaze darted to the blue-painted sketch of Ethan on the wall. She was so proud of that piece—felt that she had caught his spirit in each line. Power and gravity and sensuality, with demons fighting behind his eyes.
As a matter of fact she would take the painting with her. It would either be a testament to the legacy Ethan would hold in her heart forever. Or it would be a torment that would haunt her for the rest of her days. Either way, it was hers and she wanted it.
With a small knife she found in the kitchen she carefully removed the staples attaching the canvas to its frame. She’d roll up the painting and buy a tube to transport it in before she left town.
There was nothing more to do.
She wasn’t interested in sleeping. Didn’t want to give up even one last minute of this magical city and its hex that made people believe dreams could come true. These moments were all she had, and she’d treasure them for a lifetime.
She stared out the window. A million stories were unfolding in the city. Hers would end here.
Inching off the diamond engagement ring, she placed it next to the paper ring on the coffee table. Beside each other they were as odd a couple as she and Ethan.
As usual, not knowing what else to do with her feelings, Holly said goodbye to her fancy manicure and reached for her charcoals.
* * *
Ethan closed the door on the hotel room where he’d managed a few hours of tortured sleep in a chair. He walked down the hall to Aunt Louise’s suite. Still in his tuxedo pants, although his tie was off and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone, he scratched his beard stubble. He’d been unable to face a shower just yet, and had promised his aunt they’d reconvene their discussion during breakfast.
“Come in, Ethan,” Louise called out as soon as she heard the keycard click to unlock the door.
“I have not had coffee!” Ethan managed a trace of a smile for his beloved aunt.
“I’ll pour you a cup.” Louise wore a dressing gown and slippers. She sat at the dining table in her luxury suite, heavy drapes open to the city.
Ethan took the seat across from her.
“Does anything look different to you in the light of morning?” She
tipped her eyebrow to him in a familiar way.
When he was a teenager, living with her and Uncle Mel, if he’d been grappling with a dilemma or regretting a bad choice, Aunt Louise would always tell him to sleep on it and see if a new day brought any fresh insight.
The insistence in her arched brow today told him that she had decided what realization he should have come to. His intuition told him what her conclusion was. He peered into his coffee cup to try to shut the thought down.
Something like a tribal drum pounded inside him, urging him to lift his eyes and embrace the truth.
“Where is Fernando?” Ethan tried to change the subject—at least for a moment.
But on and on the internal drum sounded.
“Gone. Good riddance,” Louise clipped. “Before dawn this morning I called Bob Parcell to draw up a non-disclosure agreement.”
Ethan snorted. “Lawyers work around the clock.”
“Ours do. I signed a generous check, contingent on the fact that Fernando never speaks a word about our family, our company or anything to do with us. If he does, our people will make sure the rest of his life is spent behind bars.”
“Well done.”
Louise took a sip of her coffee, then smacked the cup loudly back onto the saucer. “And that, my dear nephew, is the end of my foray into having a younger companion.”
After Holly had disappeared last night he and Louise had held their heads high until the last guest had left the gala. Then they’d sat up together until the wee hours. He’d confessed about the engagement ploy and his motivation behind it. Begged for her forgiveness. Told her about the fax and Fernando’s part in it.
Now Ethan lifted his aunt’s hand and gently kissed the back of it. “I am so sorry you fell prey to him”
“Don’t you think I knew what he was doing?” she retorted. “His trips down here to New York while I stayed in Boston. The restaurant bills that were surely more expensive than dinner for one. Charges to women’s clothing shops although I never received any gifts. Fernando was clearly taking advantage of me from the beginning.”
“You never told me.”
“The vanity of a rich old woman... Perhaps I thought I could simply buy myself something to replace the emptiness left by your Uncle Mel’s death. But even with all the money in the world you can’t purchase or declare love. You can’t arrange it. It’s love that rearranges you.”
Her New York Billionaire Page 16
