Entitled: The Love Duet: Book 1

by L. M. Carr

  Andrew follows my lead and stands, looking down at me as I glare upward. Standing before this beautiful, virile man, I struggle with the desire to ravage him when his stiff cock grazes my stomach.

  “What are you talking about? I don’t fucking pay for sex! Women beg me to fuck them,” he hisses in my face.

  Fueled by anger, I purse my lips and let loose. “You don’t remember going out while I was on the phone with Toni then coming back here and getting a blow job from some slut? You don’t remember how I stopped you from sticking your condomless dick in her?” I add. “Is that how you deal with stress? Fuck prostitutes? Nice, Andrew. Real nice. I’m sure your mother would be proud.”

  His jaw ticks and his eyes narrow.

  Shit. “Andrew, I’m so sorry,” I sigh tenderly, remorsefully. “I...I didn’t mean to say that.”

  Stepping backward, Andrew retreats to the bathroom and closes the door.

  Who knew I could be this fucking stupid!

  I pull on my clothes and knock on the door which separates us. “Andrew, can we talk?”

  No response.

  Turning the knob, my cautious optimism diminishes when I realize the door is locked. Resting my forehead against the door, I speak quietly. “I am really sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just an expression I say. You can ask anyone who knows me, I swear.”

  Still no response.

  People grieve in different ways, my mother’s words remind me.

  Hoping to give him some time to cool off, I tell him that I’m going to get some coffee. “We can talk when I get back, okay?”

  I grab my phone and wallet then head down the hall to the elevators. Floor by floor we descend. On the fourth floor, a young woman, dressed in white, followed by an entourage, steps into the elevator and grins.

  “I’m getting married,” she smiles.

  I return her smile and nod. “I see. Congratulations.”

  One of her bridesmaid disconnects a call on her phone. “Carter’s already at the chapel.”

  “He is?” the bride squeals. “I think he’s more excited than I am.”

  “That man loves you so much,” another member of the bridal party adds. “You’re so lucky you found him again.”

  “I know. We got a second chance at love,” sighs the bride.

  Stopping at the Ground Level, I wait and allow the bride and her company to exit before I step out and search for Starbucks.

  I’m given directions by the hotel concierge and mentally wonder why the coffee shop would be tucked so far back around a corridor, away from the hotel lobby.

  The line is at least ten people deep, and I debate for a moment whether I should go back upstairs and just order food from room service. I stay because a slice of heaven in the form of banana bread calls my name.

  Carrying the cardboard tray with my coffee and another cup of black coffee with cream and sugar on the side for Andrew, I return to the room to find it quiet. I set the tray and two small bags down on the glass coffee table and call out his name.

  “I come bearing coffee and an apolo—” My words freeze when I notice Andrew’s small duffel bag is no longer on the dresser. I look around for his clothes or shoes and even go into the bathroom to look for his shaving kit. Nothing. I pull my phone out to call him, but I immediately realize I still don’t have his phone number.

  “Andrew!” I call out in frustration. “Where are you?”

  Back at the elevators, I stab the button several times hoping one of the two will reach my floor quickly. “Come on!” I grit through my teeth, again pushing the button. “Hurry up!” Painfully, I watch the small circles above the steel doors illuminate with each stop.

  By the time I reach the main floor, I’m frustrated and angry. My legs carry me to the bar where I fully expect Andrew to be, but it’s not open yet. I glance around the lobby thinking perhaps he just needed to get out of the room. I have a moment of déjà vu when I step outside in the Nevada heat to search for him. Racking my brain, I think of what steps I can take to locate him.

  Call Victor a voice in my head suggests.

  Back in the room, I sit on the club chair in the living area and scroll through my recent calls until I find Mark and Diana’s attorney’s phone number. I tap the unfamiliar number, silently praying he can help me. While waiting for the call to connect, I reach down to the floor to retrieve a folded napkin just as I hear Victor’s greeting.

  “Hello, Victor? This is Morgan. Morgan Montgomery...” I apologize immediately for calling so early and breathe a sigh of relief and appreciation when he says it’s no bother. I continue to explain the predicament I’m in and my quest to find Andrew.

  “Let me try calling him. I’m sure he’s fine,” Victor says reassuringly.

  My fingers continue to flatten the cocktail napkin as I stare at the name Fiesta Rancho Hotel and Casino. I pinch my lips and shake my head, wondering if it’s where Andrew picked up Crystal.

  Moments later, Victor calls back. “Straight to voicemail. Maybe his phone is dead.”

  “Maybe,” I agree, remembering that he most likely didn’t charge it since he passed out shortly after the escort left. “We have a two-thirty flight home.”

  “Do you think he went to the airport already?”

  “Without me?” I squawk. “Why would he do that?”

  After an awkward moment of silence, Victor says, “I don’t know, Morgan. Did something happen?”

  “Did something happen? Yes! His parents were killed in a helicopter crash! I think that qualifies as something, don’t you?”

  Victor sighs. “I meant did something else happen?”

  My countenance scrunches in disapproval. I’m not sure I appreciate his insinuation although he’s not too far off from the truth.

  “We had a misunderstanding. We were going to talk, but he just left. Who does that anyway?” There’s no way to mask the disdain in my voice.

  “Andrew Darling does.”

  ♦♦♦

  I arrive at McCarran International airport minus my travel companion. While Victor continued his efforts to reach Andrew by phone, I scoured the streets near the hotel but came up empty-handed. I heeded his suggestion to wait for Andrew at the airport.

  After pleading with the attendant to make another announcement for Andrew, a final boarding call is made.

  “Ma’am, once the doors are closed, we cannot reopen them,” the man with a blue collared shirt warns.

  With a last ditch attempt, I call out Andrew’s name. Dazed and confused, I drop my head and walk dejectedly on board the eastbound plane. When traveling, I normally power off my phone, but today I decide to plug it into the electrical outlet and switch it to airplane mode, hoping and praying I’ll get word that Victor has found Andrew.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “What do you mean he’s not coming home for the memorial service? He’s their son!” I scream into the phone, pulling the cord hard as I stomp over to the window and look out at the torrential downpour pelting the glass. “That’s...absolutely ridiculous. I’m not even family. How can you expect me to do this alone? Who’s supposed to write up the obituary?”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Victor says immediately.

  I listen to Victor’s explanation that Mark and Diana were private people and that they always said the people who needed to know of their passing would know; they didn’t like the idea of announcing it to the world.

  “What? Why not?”

  “Morgan, it’s who they were and it’s not for me, or you, to question. Respect their wishes.”

  “Fine. What time are you arriving?” I grunt into the phone.

  I nearly hop into my car and drive to Victor’s law office to wring his neck when he says he won’t be coming to the service either.

  “A cruise? You’re really going on a cruise? Don’t you think this trumps your vacation? Your friends died, Victor! They died!”

  “Mark and Diana would’ve wanted me to go, Morga
n. It’s who they are...who they were,” he corrects himself.

  “What is wrong with you people? Give me Andrew’s phone number then. I’ll call him myself. He has to be here!”

  A heavy sigh reaches my ear. “I can’t do that, Morgan. Andrew has asked to be left alone and not contacted by you or anyone associated with his parents.”

  “What is he, a five-year old? That’s not how he needs to handle this!”

  After a long pause Victor says, “You, more than anyone, should know how differently people grieve.”

  I step back to my desk and freeze. “Excuse me?”

  Victor releases another deep exhale. “Mark had me run a full background check on you when you started working for them. He needed to know that he could trust you with his money when you took the company in a different direction.”

  “What? Why?” I demand.

  I turn to see Toni standing in the door with two Styrofoam containers as she calls out, “Hey. Lunchtime!”

  Holding my finger up to silence her, I continue my conversation with Victor.

  “I really shouldn’t be telling you this, but...just before you started working for the company, Mark was nearly bankrupt. He borrowed a lot of money to make the changes you suggested and in the end, it paid off.”

  “But,” I stammer as confusion sets in. “I don’t understand.”

  “Morgan, keep things simple. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Is Andrew really not coming?” I ask a final time, hoping I might elicit a more favorable response. Victor’s insistence that Andrew wants no part in his parent’s memorial service solidifies what an asshole Andrew Darling really is. A surge of incredulity rises in me and I retort, “Fine!”

  Somberly, I walk over and place the phone receiver back in its cradle.

  “What’s going on?” Toni asks, setting my lunch down along with a can of Coke. Sitting in the seat across from my leather one, Toni waits for my reply.

  I take a moment to wrap my head around the truth before opening my mouth to speak.

  “Andrew isn’t coming. He wants nothing to do with any of it.”

  “Any of what?”

  I meet her inquisitive eyes.

  “The memorial service. The people here.”

  “And...” she sings, prodding further.

  “Me,” my voice falters. “...he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “Why am I getting the feeling that you left something major out about the trip to Vegas?”

  “Toni, it was nothing. We were there so he could identify what little remains were left of his parents.”

  She raises curious eyebrows.

  “I think he just needed some comfort.” I drop down into my chair and bury my face in my palms.

  “You slept with him?” she squawks.

  “No!” I snap my head up. “I didn’t sleep with him.”

  “But something happened?”

  “Can we please just not talk about this?” I focus my attention on the Caesar salad in front of me, avoiding her silent inquiries. Huffing, I add, “I have a memorial service to finalize.”

  ♦♦♦

  After a Google search offered little help, I turned to my mother about what to include in the service. Taking her suggestions, Mark and Diana Darling were honored with a beautiful tribute attended by nearly fifty people.

  Except their son.

  I stood alone in the receiving line intended for family members. Because each had been only children whose parents had already passed away, Mark and Diana had few relatives; many of whom didn’t bother traveling in for the service. After expressing my gratitude and appreciation to the attendees, I’d invited them to a local Italian restaurant where we talked and exchanged stories about Mark and Diana. Not a single person mentioned the obvious absence.

  I offer a word of thanks as I wrap my arms around my mother. “You and dad didn’t have to come down, but I’m so glad you did.”

  “Honey, Daddy and I would do anything for you and your brothers. When are you coming for a visit?”

  I sigh. “I’m not sure. I guess since Andrew isn’t coming back, I’m going to see what Victor suggests. Technically their son should be handling all of this.”

  Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, my mother cups my face between her soft hands and smiles tightly. “Morgan, grief isn’t an easy thing. He’s grieving in the only way he knows how.”

  “But he’s an adult.”

  “I was an adult when your brother died and I handled his death much differently than your father did.” She smiles softly. “You wanted to wear your pink girly dress to his funeral because we were going to Jesus’ house. You didn’t understand that he was staying in Heaven; you kept asking when he was coming back.”

  “I was six!”

  “And you didn’t grieve until months later,” she reminds me patiently.

  Closing my eyes, I exhale heavily, releasing the weight of the world. “How can I help him?”

  “If he’s asked to be left alone, then let him be.”

  “But what if he does something drastic or reckless?” Like screw prostitutes.

  “Like you said, ‘He’s an adult.’”

  ♦♦♦

  Three weeks later when the rain finally subsides, I set out in my red Hunter rain boots and trek across the yard to the back door. My hand lingers on the knob and I take a deep breath because entering the Darling home alone now sends chills down my spine as the presence of emptiness and desolation fills the lonely, vacant and cold residence. Although everything is exactly as Diana left it, the house seems to mourn the loss. Gone is the welcoming aroma of fresh flowers, and the days of happiness are just a memory.

  Convincing myself to enter, I unlock the door and call out for Romeo and Juliet.

  Achoo!

  Knowing I couldn’t keep the cats because of my severe allergies, I’d attempted to find a permanent home for them through a local shelter. Toni, however, thwarted that plan when she offered to adopt them. I couldn’t have been more grateful at that moment.

  The sound of my cell phone ringing startles me and I clutch my chest before I look down to see Toni’s name along with a text message saying she’ll be here in fifteen minutes.

  Romeo purrs around the corner to welcome me and I release the hold of my heart and, reluctantly, bend down to pet him. It’s the least I could do since his owner won’t ever return. I rub the spot between his ears which he seems to love so much.

  “You’re going to like Toni. She’s going to take good care of you.”

  Purring his way past me, Romeo stops at the empty food bowl.

  “Are you hungry, buddy? How about some milk?”

  Walking to the sink to rinse out the bowls, I notice a few dirty dishes and some glasses in the sink. I shake my head in disbelief and make a note to speak to Leddy, the housekeeper, about picking up after herself. I realize the owners no longer live here and no one is here to monitor things, but taking advantage of the people who employed you, particularly the deceased, is another thing. I refill Romeo and Juliet’s food bowls and reach for the pen to leave Leddy a note when I notice the calendar with her name written in the square for tomorrow’s date.

  Once again I am startled by my phone. Swiping my finger across the screen, I answer Victor’s call. I maintain a cordial tone although I’m still annoyed that he didn’t cancel his plans in order to attend the memorial service.

  “Why do I have to be there? I’m not family.”

  I listen as he details the need for my presence at his office on Friday morning at ten.

  “What about Andrew? Will he be there?”

  Achoo!

  After a long pause, he says, “He will.”

  I debate lying to him just to avoid seeing Andrew, but my conscience overrules. “I have a client coming in, but I can be there at noon.”

  Releasing a heavy sigh, Victor relents and disconnects the call.

  In my peripheral vision, I spot Toni and Melissa standing at the back
door, bright smiles stretching across their faces.

  I set the bowl down onto the mat and open the door with yet another sneeze.

  “Your eyes look awful! Have you been crying?” Toni chides, stepping into the kitchen with Melissa following closely behind.

  “Crying? Why would I be crying?” I hiss.

  “Maybe you miss Andrew, your lover boy.”

  I roll my eyes. “He isn’t my lover anything. In fact, I think I hate him. I can’t believe I actually thought he was a nice person. I know he’s grieving, but the guy I hung out with at the beach party and this guy...” I shake my head. “It’s like they were two totally different people.”

  “Well at least they’re both hot!”

  My lips purse. “You don’t even know what he looks like!”

  “Tall, blond hair, beautiful blue eyes and a rockin’ body?”

  I’m surprised she’s able to give a pretty accurate physical description of Andrew with the exception of the color of his hair. “When did you meet him?”

  “I didn’t. Diana had a picture of him in her office and I asked her about it once. I don’t think it was a recent picture though. He looks really young.”

  My jaw drops open. “She did? That’s weird! Whenever I asked to see a picture of him, she always said he was camera shy.”

  “No need to be camera shy with a face like that!” Toni smiles, waggling her eyebrows.

  “Since when are you into dicks?” Melissa asks, clearly annoyed by Toni’s comments. “Because we can make a stop at the toy store wh—”

  “Agh!!” I cover my ears and groan. “Come on! I don’t need to hear about your sex toys!”

  “Pah-lease, Morgan. I’m pretty sure I saw a couple of vibrators when I helped you pack up your things.”

  “You’re an ass!” I spit at Toni who is grinning with raised eyebrows. “Fine! Let’s just say I was left to fend for myself at the end of my marriage when my husband preferred to watch sports or screw someone else rather than sleep with his wife.”

  Achoo!

  I rub my nose and look up at the recessed light to ward off another sneeze. I scratch my neck and groan. “I need to get out of here before my throat closes up.”