Would we see each other around? “I guess. Have a good one.”
She made for the door, Georgia following her and looking over her shoulder every few steps, and fear hit me in the head as I was sledgehammered by the concept that I might not actually see this woman again.
After all, once I’d tracked Jayne down and handed over the papers, wouldn’t that be the end of the family tie? There wouldn’t be a good excuse for me to see Veronica. Other than the one I had in mind right now.
“Veronica,” I called out.
She stopped, her palm on the glass pane of the door. “What’s up?”
“You look fantastic today,” I said. Good Christ, what the fuck had I just said? “I mean, your art. Yeah, just great. And it’s really good to see you.”
“Right, yeah, you, too.” Veronica shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Georgia pursed her lips, mirth puckering the skin at corners of her eyes.
“I hope I’ll get to see you again sometime. For real. That we’ll run into each other again.” I could give presentations in front of board members and open up at televised charity events but every ounce of speaking prowess had seeped out of me.
“Sure.” Veronica hesitated, opened her mouth, closed it again. “See ya.” She pushed out into the street and scurried away, Georgia tailing her and laughing out loud.
Man, I’d really screwed the pooch on this one. Not only did I look like a stalking loser trying to buy her affection, but now I’d made a total fool of myself. I knuckled my forehead. “Christ,” I muttered.
“It’s not that bad, dude,” said the inept manager behind the counter. He perched on the stool and tossed his head. “Like, she’s hot and everything but she’s one of those artist types. Totally high maintenance, dude. She’s always complaining about –”
I turned my back on the dopey dickhead before I hit him in the face. I’d never been the violent type but hearing him talk about Veronica like that brought violence to mind. Was this what a rebound felt like?
Veronica was the first woman, apart from those who worked for me, that I’d seen since Jayne had ditched me. Could it be I’d latched onto her because I yearned for female company?
No, I’d never needed that before. Why would that be the case now?
I put the questions aside and made for the car. I had a meeting in an hour and an itinerary to plan for my trip to Italy in two weeks. There wasn’t time to contemplate my need for a woman I barely knew, who happened to be my cheating wife’s sister to boot.
Carter Jones had always kept it together. I wouldn’t let the strange thrum in my chest or the thought of Veronica all alone in her apartment stop me.
I spared a glance for her front door as we drove off.
Chapter 5
Veronica
I didn’t have a number for my sister. How many people could say that about their family members? If I wanted to contact her, I had to reach her on Facebook and I wasn’t a huge fan of that platform, only because I felt under scrutiny by the people who I’d friended.
It was like one constant high school reunion, everyone checking each other out to find out who’d gotten fat or old or ugly, who’d had kids or gotten engaged. Who was the happiest according to the pictures rather than the facts.
My sister posted pretty frequently on it, though.
I sat on my sofa in the living room and clicked through the pictures on my sister’s profile. Happy images of her smiling, raising glasses to the camera. These were recent, uploaded only two days ago, when Carter couldn’t have been with her.
“Don’t think about him,” I muttered. I’d found it exceptionally difficult to force him out of my thoughts over the past day. Ever since I’d seen him in the coffee shop downstairs, he’d dominated me.
It didn’t help that I’d have to use the money he’d paid for my art to stay in this apartment another month. God, could things get any weirder? My sister hadn’t spoken to me in months, my brother-in-law had technically paid my rent, and whenever he popped into my mind, I got this horrible squirming feeling in my gut – one I associated with the beginnings of a crush.
And that I couldn’t allow.
I clicked again and again, cycling further back in Jayne’s photo history, and boy, was it extensive. My sister had selfie’d her way across Europe. I clicked again and a picture of Carter and Jayne together popped up.
He had his arm around her and his nose pressed to her cheek. Jayne pouted for the camera and winked, the light catching the side of her tanned face. She was the star of the photo and Carter was the accessory.
I boiled with anger. The sight of them together made me hot all over and that made everything worse. This shouldn’t have bothered me. He was my brother-in-law! Not some guy we’d competed over in college.
And God, that’d happened way too much. Jayne had always won those ‘competitions’ through sheer will. She’d wrap herself around any guy I mentioned was cute or had a nice smile and wouldn’t let go until she was sure they didn’t remember my existence.
I hadn’t figured it was planned on her part until much later. Recently, in fact. The rose-tinted glasses had come off the day she’d pretty much abandoned me in this apartment.
I slapped the lid of the laptop shut and sat back. I had to take my mind off this shit.
The money from the sales hadn’t come into my bank account yet, so it wasn’t like I could run out and get art supplies. And no brushes, paint or canvas meant no relief from the revolt in my brain.
I balled up my fists and rubbed my eyes.
A knock rattled my front door and I jumped up, banged my knee into the coffee table, and swore under my breath. “Just a second,” I screeched. “Oh, fuck, fuck that’s sore.” I turned in a circle and grimaced.
The knock came again.
“Second!” Another screech. God, whoever was out there had come knocking expecting Veronica and found a hag instead. “Georgia, is that you?” If it was her, I’d kick that skinny white ass for arriving a half hour early.
She’d spent the last two days camping out to ‘protect’ me from Jackson’s imminent return. We both knew it was because she couldn’t stand to be alone in her apartment.
I stumbled down the hall and halted in front of my door. “Who is it? Georgia?”
“Guess again,” a man said.
“Jackson? If that’s you, you’d better get the hell off my front step or I’ll call the cops.”
“It’s Carter.”
Boom – mind blown on impact with the name. What the hell? I drew back the chain out of curiosity and opened up. “Carter.”
He gave me that devilishly attractive grin – the one that probably made every pantie in a five-mile radius hit the floor so hard the earth vibrated – and raised a bottle of wine. “It’s non-alcoholic,” he said.
“Why would you ruin a good bottle of wine like that?” I asked.
“Yeah, it’s basically sour grape juice at this point,” he replied and gave it to me. “I thought you might like it, though. I wasn’t sure you were much of a drinker.”
“I – uh, do you want to come in?” I stepped back, clutching the neck of the bottle while confusion clutched me tighter.
“Thanks,” he said and walked past me into the living room. He hovered there, caught between sitting and wandering further in.
I shut the door and chained it, then joined him. Awkward silence came to the party.
“All due respect, Carter, but what the hell are you doing here?” I asked and hugged the bottle to my chest.
“Shit, ha, it is weird, isn’t it?” he asked. “I’ve been wondering about it for a couple days.”
“About what?”
“Why this feels so weird,” he replied. “I mean, you’re supposed to be my sister-in-law. We should be comfortable around each other. But we’re not.”
“I – uh, maybe I should open the wine,” I said and moved through to the kitchen.
He followed me. “Sure, it’s not like it’s going to lower our
inhibitions, right?”
I snorted. I brought out the bottle opener and worked on the seal.
“Let me do that,” he said, reaching for the bottle.
I jerked it out of reach. “I’ve got it.” I didn’t need anyone opening my drinks for me. I wasn’t Jayne. I got out two glasses and poured for us, then handed over the wine.
“Thanks.” Carter and I walked back through to the living room and sat down on the sofa, ample space between us.
Every inch of me wanted to bridge the gap and inhale his cologne. I’d touched him once but I couldn’t help imagining what it’d be like to do it again. In a different way. Mind out of the gutter! He’s your sister’s man.
“Cheers,” Carter said.
We clinked glasses. I took a sip of the wine and choked. “Oh, God, that’s terrible.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty awful. Pretty damn awful.” He burst out laughing and put his glass down. “Shit, I thought I made a great decision. Guess I was wrong.”
“Happens,” I said, though I couldn’t fathom what state of mind he had to be in to buy non-alcoholic dry wine. Blegh, gross. I put down my glass beside his. “So, you came to see me. There’s got to be something on your mind. What is it? Jayne?” She’d been on my mind, too.
“Jayne,” he said. “Just when I think I’ve put that behind me, it reappears.”
“She’s back?”
“No, I meant you mentioned it when – ah, never mind. No, I’m not here to talk about Jayne. Not technically.”
“Okay?”
“I’ll level with you, Veronica, I can’t get you off my mind,” he said and rubbed his palms together. “You’ve been on my mind since I dropped off that box of Jayne’s crap and it’s only gotten worse since I saw you at the gallery, and then downstairs.”
“Downstairs.”
“I didn’t plan that,” he said. “I swear to God. But it’s been on my mind.”
“How do you mean?”
Carter sniffed. “I’m not used to this type of thing.”
“What type of thing?” I wanted to hear him say it; that way I’d know he’d had the same thoughts as me. The late night heated ones included.
“I think you know what I mean. You’re off limits but I don’t want you to be. You’re gorgeous and intelligent, and I’d like to get to know you better.”
I reeled internally. It’d been a week since I’d kicked out Jackson. I’d had a theft and all other types of problems to deal with and Carter had his own issues. My sister had disappeared in Europe somewhere and he had to finalize their divorce.
Even if we hadn’t been related, this would’ve been a terrible time.
“Man, forget I said anything,” he continued, “I’m an idiot.”
“No,” I said and touched the back of his hand. Electricity shot through me, and I withdrew immediately. “I understand what you mean. It’s – uh, yeah, I feel whatever this is, too. I want to get to know you better but that can’t happen.”
Carter bobbed his chin up and down once. “Jayne?”
“That and everything else that’s going on in both our lives. It just wouldn’t be right.” I brushed off my jeans. “So, thanks for the offer but I think we should leave it at that.”
“I would’ve called,” he said. “I thought it would be better to do this in person.” His speech was gruff and clipped but he wasn’t angry. More likely embarrassed. Or perhaps he felt the same level of guilt at our attraction as I did.
“It’s okay,” I said and got up. “I think you’d better leave, Carter. Thanks for coming by.”
“Right.” He pushed himself upright and towered over me, all six feet of him. That height made me feel tiny, and I was already small. I wasn’t big on feeling vulnerable but Carter made it seem like a good thing.
“Thanks,” I said, again, because he hadn’t moved and if he didn’t soon, I’d forget all about what we’d just discussed and ask him to stay for another glass of that terrible wine. Innumerable questions drifted up from my subconscious.
Who was he really? How had he made his money? What did he want out of life? Did he still love Jayne? None of them mattered.
Carter placed his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll see you around,” he said. “Shit, lame goodbye. I meant, thanks for the wine?” He drew me into a hug, and I practically melted into a puddle on his polished dress shoes. I actually clung to him.
He inhaled and I did it, too. We breathed each other in. I tilted my head back and caught a glimpse of his chin, his lips. God, this had to end now. I pulled back and gave him a double thumbs up – the dorkiest move I’d ever pulled.
Carter walked into the hall and disappeared from sight. The door clicked a couple seconds later and I wobbled over to the sofa and sat down. Holy shit. I’d never been this confused in my entire life.
Why did life have to work like this? I hadn’t felt that kind of intensity and heat in my life and the man who gave me those feelings just happened to be my sister’s husband. Seriously? Couldn’t the universe do better than that?
I sighed and flopped back on the cushions. I had so much to do in the next few days and thinking about Carter Jones and even Jayne wouldn’t help me get any of it done. I had to focus on my future and my passion, not the sexiest man I’d ever soon, who, Oh, by the way, might’ve tried to buy me over by choosing my art for his mansion.
My cell phone buzzed, and I snatched it off the table. I unlocked the screen to a text from Georgia.
Want to explain why a billionaire just came down your stairs blushing like he saw you naked?
I sucked in a breath, then typed out the reply. Get up here and I’ll tell you everything. I eyed the two glasses on my coffee table. I’ve got wine.
Say no more.
Finish Reading Unlawfully Yours Here
Blind Faith
A Billionaire Romance
By
Ellie Danes
www.EllieDanes.com
Copyright
First Edition, January 2018
Copyright © 2018 by Ellie Danes
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and situations are the product of the author's imagination.
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.
License
This book is available exclusively on Amazon.com. If you found this book for free or from a site other than an Amazon.com country specific website it means the author was not compensated for this book and you have likely obtained this book through an unapproved distribution channel.
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Book Description
Billionaire Brenden Porter appears to have it all; cars, houses, money, a model girlfriend and a successful investment company that almost prints money. But money can’t buy everything, including his sight. After having lost it fifteen years ago, Brenden has learned to work on instinct, his gut and his other senses. He’s given up trusting his girlfriend and best friend, but when Faith Fleming walks into his life he learns that happiness, love and trust can be about everything you don’t see first-hand.
Faith Fleming is the girl next door and she likes it that way. Her life is simple, double shifts at the coffee shop, night school and staying away from men, for good reason. Secrets she’d like to forget. But when the blind billionaire shows up at her coffee shop three days in a row she begins to rethink her life and whether some secrets aren’t worth keeping hidden.
Chapter 1
Brenden
"I laid out a suit for you, Brenden. What are you doing?" Rachel asked.
I could hear the irritation in my girlfriend’s voice but I headed for the closet. "That one's wool. I'd be roasting by the time I got to the front door," I said.
"Whatever. They're like all gray." Rach
el huffed past me in a cloud of French perfume.
I shuffled farther into my walk-in closet, trying to escape the overpowering cloud of freesia. I wanted to escape Rachel's pouting too, but if she got really upset I'd lose more time from my morning and probably a large chunk from my bank account. The only thing that was guaranteed to stop my girlfriend from sulking was an expensive gift.
"Are you wearing that silk sundress we found at Fashion Week? Remember how we convinced the designer to let you have it right off the model's rack? You look amazing in it." I hoped compliments would work instead.
"Oh, so you noticed me finally?" Rachel asked.
She knew I hadn't looked at her. I had felt the brush of the flowing dress as she passed. I knew she expected me to turn right around and continue with the compliments. Instead I concentrated on the long line of suits in front of me. I couldn't stand around in my silk boxers and a white dress shirt all morning.
I had to count from the left. The first ten were all wool in various colors from darkest to light. Then came ten cashmere suits, and finally the silk suits.
"Is this one black or navy blue?" I asked Rachel.
She snorted. "Does it matter?"
"The navy blue one is from Savile Row," I said.
That got Rachel's attention. "I've always wanted to shop there. Wouldn't I look great in a tailored suit coat dress?"
Her cloud of perfume enveloped me and I held my breath as she confirmed the suit I held was navy blue. Then her phone rang and she left me in the wide closet to face with my rack of ties. I trailed my hand down the side of the rack, reciting the careful organization: first row for black suits, then charcoal, then navy blue. I grabbed a tie at random and made an impeccable Windsor knot.
"You might be onto something, Rachel," I said. "Life would be a lot easier if all my suits were gray."
"Yuck," Rachel said. "What are you going to do? Be one of those weirdos that always wears jeans and a black turtle neck?"
"Steve Jobs wasn't a weirdo," I reminded her. "And having a uniform wardrobe probably saved him a lot of time and thought."
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