by Kira Blakely
Today, I was in khaki pants that barely reached my ankles and a tie-dye blouse with my red curls tied up in a bun at the back of my head. My black pumps clicked against the polished marble floor of the lobby as I walked toward the elevator.
Marie, the receptionist, and I exchanged cold glances. We weren’t exactly on talking terms yet, but she had started smiling at me sometimes now, which I believed was a step in the right direction.
I still felt out of place here, but I was learning to accept it. I was making a difference from the inside, instead of from the other side of the picket line.
I took the elevator to the top floor with a pack of files pressed under my arm. Casper had been away for business for the past two days, and I had some research that I wanted to show him.
I’d also missed him. But I wasn’t going to tell him that in fear of appearing too needy. But he always kissed me, holding me close in the privacy of his office, and I was looking forward to that. I had a smile on my face as I stepped off the elevator and walked toward his office door.
I knew that his door was slightly ajar even as I walked toward it, because I could hear the trickling sound of the koi pond and waterfall in the hallway. I began to walk a little slowly because now I could hear the exchange of voices. Casper wasn’t alone. I didn’t want to interrupt a meeting.
But when I got closer, I heard a woman’s voice, one which sounded oddly familiar.
The door was ajar indeed, just a little bit, but enough for me to see through if I put my eye to it.
Samantha. My blood boiled immediately.
Casper was at the far end of the room behind his oak desk. Samantha was standing in front of him behind the desk, too, so that he had to twist his chair sideways. He was looking up at her with that smile on his face. The one that always melted me into a puddle.
Samantha was in a sleek white jumpsuit with gold trimmings and large, gold earrings. She had the perfect copper makeup on that made her look like a celebrity. She was, indeed, fit to be a celebrity. But I wasn’t concerned about her looks just then. I was more concerned about why she was standing so close to Casper, leaning toward him, making certain that he could see down her cleavage, revealed by the deep V-neck of her jumpsuit.
“You are such a tease, Casper. I flew in all the way from New York,” she said, and my jaws clenched tightly.
Samantha leaned in closer to Casper, her nose nearly grazing his. I knew I shouldn’t have been spying – not again, not like this – but I couldn’t help myself. This would confirm all the fears that I had about Casper.
“I really can’t, Sam. I’m busy tonight,” he said, and my heart started racing more.
Samantha looked visibly upset by his response. “You were always up for a date before. At my beck and call. We always had fun. What’s changed now, Casper?” she asked, straightening. I could barely control myself from the burst of feelings coursing through my veins.
“What can I say, Sam? I’m otherwise engaged,” he replied with a smile.
“Engaged with what?” she pushed him with a sour look on her face.
“All right, Sam. I didn’t want to be direct because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” Casper stood up and glared down at her. “But, I can’t see you tonight because I want to spend time with my girlfriend, all right? I’m just back from a business trip, and I haven’t seen her in days.” He was speaking through gritted teeth now with narrowed eyes, focused on Samantha. Who for some reason, had managed to get on his nerves at that precise moment.
I entered the office without knocking, forcing my face to be as expressionless as it possibly could. They both turned to me, and the look on Casper’s face changed. He smiled.
“Lily! I was wondering where you were,” he said, taking long, meaningful strides toward me. He kissed me with his hands on my cheeks, holding my face. Right there in front of Samantha, the witch.
I was smiling when we parted. My heart was ready to burst out of my chest. Casper always surprised me, but this was a new high. One I didn’t want to get off.
“You?” Samantha cried, with her nose pinched and her eyes narrowed to a slit. She was ready to slap me if she could.
I simply smiled at her. “Hello. I remember you from the party in Hawaii. You’re Casper’s friend,” I said as casually as I could. Casper’s hand on the small of my back was filling me with confidence.
I could see the hatred in Samantha’s eyes as she glared at me, choosing not to respond.
“How was your trip?” I turned to Casper instead.
“Good. I missed you,” he said, smiling at me, as though we were the only two people in the room.
I bit down on my lip as I drank it all in, swaying from the headiness and my happiness.
“Zoe was asking about you today. Maybe we should all have dinner together tonight,” I said, certain now that I had made the right decision.
Billionaire’s Protest
BOOK 3
Chapter 1
Gemma
I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel while glaring out the windshield. The empty can of soda that rattled around at my feet with the motions of the car didn’t bother me; my mind was elsewhere. I had the window on my side rolled down, and despite the cold breeze wafting straight from the snowcapped mountains behind me, I was too warm. I was anxious in my seat, hot under my collar and desperate. I’d never said it out loud or even thought the words in my head, but I was desperate to get out of this town.
I was late for work. Not by much, but Big Mike wasn’t going to be decent about it. I hadn’t been able to drag myself out of bed today, as much as I tried giving myself the usual pep-talk. The alarm kept ringing, and I could hear Mom’s voice in the kitchen, shouting because the sound of the alarm was bothering her. I couldn’t even bring myself to reach out and turn it off. It was like my limbs were frozen, and it had nothing to do with the temperature dropping outside.
Twenty-six years in this godforsaken little town, but Carlow Ridge had always been good enough for me. I had never stepped out of the state of Washington in my life, never had the need or the courage. All these years in the same trailer park, the only child of parents who couldn’t afford anything more than a trailer. The only justification for why I was such a happy child and miserable now, was because back then I didn’t know any better. This was my town, this was my family and the trailer was our home. But now I did know better. Now I knew that I could get into medical school if I could just get through college.
The sharp blare of a horn behind me snapped me out of my thoughts, and I swerved to give way. Clenching my jaws, I gripped the steering wheel even more tightly, slowing down. This wasn’t exactly going well for me. I was late for work anyway, and my mind was buzzing.
Back to sweating the small stuff again. Well, it wasn’t exactly small stuff anymore. Not when it had completely taken over my life. I had this incredible urge to just leave everything behind, my life as I knew it, and disappear. Forget my responsibilities, forget my parents, this town… Just quit. And then what? Med school wasn’t just going to happen automatically for me. I still needed to finish college. College that I could barely afford any more. And what about my parents? I was their only child, and they were both growing older. I couldn’t just forget about them. I couldn’t be that selfish.
I jiggled my toes in my shoes, my impatience catching up to me. In one swift motion, I turned the radio on, hoping the music might help soothe my nerves. Not a chance.
My dark curls blew in the breeze coming in through the open window, lashing against my face as I drove. I didn’t bother pushing them away from my eyes. They were sort of comforting for a strange reason, softly tickling the tip of my small sharp nose. I didn’t have to look at myself in the rearview mirror to know that my cheeks now matched the bright pink color of my lips. The cold wind always did that to my usually porcelain pale skin. I gulped as I tried not to think about my life. I needed to worry about getting to the diner. Bigger life problems could be dealt with later.
I didn’t bother to dress up for work these days, and especially not today, when I could hardly bring myself to get out of bed. I wore a pair of faded blue jeans and a black V-neck sweater. The only pop of color was the pink tank top I wore inside.
I realized now that I was unconsciously playing with one of the small silver earrings dangling from my ears. I twisted the wiry hoop over and over again, just for the sake of having something to do with my free hand.
I didn’t want to have to face Big Mike, not today, not on such a shitty day. But I knew he was going to let me have it. He had allowed me to only take the dayshifts, because I begged him to let me have the nights off so I could study. So now, from time to time, he threw me looks of condemnation, like he thought he deserved some kind of additional praise for giving me a break.
I rolled my eyes just thinking about him. He wasn’t doing me any favors. I was doing him a favor by working at that place where there were only four items on the menu. It wasn’t exactly the Ritz.
A sound like a gunshot rang out in the air, jerking me out of my bitter thoughts about Big Mike. I looked around in sudden fear, checking all my mirrors. There didn’t seem to be any other vehicle on the road, not another living soul. Then I heard the rattling sound of my tire, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was only a flat tire.
Only my flat tire! I huffed hotly as I slowed the car down, pulling it to the side of the road. Seriously, today of all days! What had I done to deserve this? How had I displeased the gods? For a second, I wondered if it was retribution for thinking about leaving this town. Like the universe was sending me a message that I could never get out of this place. Not alive anyway.
And now I was going to be majorly late for work. There was no rescuing me.
Chapter 2
Vincent
How long had it been since I’d driven a car? Being chauffeured had its perks, but it felt wonderful to be behind the wheel again. I drove at a slow, even pace, enjoying the breathtaking mountain views around me. The hills were snow-capped, like chocolate and vanilla cone swirls. Despite the cold weather, the trees around here were evergreen, shrouding the horizon in thick blankets of varying shades of green. I couldn’t imagine an unhappy soul in this little town.
I hadn’t realized how badly I needed a break. I’d been working non-stop for the past two years, without a moment to breathe, and now it was finally over. I’d achieved what I’d set out to do. I would never have thought I’d be saying this, but I had found the cure for Coeliac Disease.
An involuntary smile tilted my lips as the thought floated in my head. It had been three months since we’d filed the patent, our stocks had skyrocketed and the money and praise came flooding in. And now I finally had a chance to get away, even if it was for an official retreat. This was something.
I couldn’t really get away though, could I? Not in the true sense of the phrase. My family’s old Russian aristocratic legacy, my billionaire status, the work I was involved in… those were all important factors that ensured I was never truly out of the limelight. Magazines would continue to rank me in their most-eligible-bachelor lists, and I’d always have the paparazzi following my every move. There was no such thing as an actual vacation for me. No privacy. Official retreats were the only kind of vacations I was allowed to take. I sighed. I should have been proud; I should have been satisfied. What else could a man possibly ask from life?
But I was getting to drive a car myself now. The small pleasures in life, I thought and smiled again. I’d ditched my usual chauffeur back in California, and I decided to pretend that I was a free man. It’s not as though anyone here would recognize me. Unless the cameras had followed me to this place, too. But for now, it seemed like they’d lost the trail, and I was determined to enjoy it while it lasted.
I felt truly alone in this place, and it was exhilarating.
Seven more days of this, and then back to the grind again. Back to wearing three-piece tailored suits, attending charity events and shaking hands with people who were potentially going to be good for business. Not to mention, back to the women I had left behind. I didn’t want to have to think about Sarah or Maria. Mother had picked the two out for me as potential wives.
“Either will make a suitable bride for you. They both come from distinguished families. Russian lineages like ours,” she had said, sipping on her brandy from a crystal glass.
Father had nodded. “Enough of your fooling around, son. It’s time to settle down.”
I was running away from Sarah and Maria, too. I didn’t have feelings for either one of them. In fact, that was another thing I hadn’t done in a while… had feelings for a woman. Both women were upstanding, accomplished women, and undoubtedly beautiful, but was I prepared to marry one of them? Blonde Sarah Popov designed and decorated homes for celebrities, and thin-lipped Maria Smirnov attended polo matches for a living, or so it appeared. My family didn’t care about my happiness; they just wanted me to wed whoever would benefit our family the most financially. I had spent too many years trying to find the right woman, one I could actually love. I was close to giving up now.
I ran my fingers through my thick dark hair. Returning to California would mean facing all that, being bombarded with the pressures of pleasing my family. No wonder my temples were already graying; it was like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I didn’t want to leave just yet. I wanted to remain here, surrounded by the mountains and the forests, be lost in the namelessness for a while longer. Away from making any life-changing decisions.
I had been driving the only high-end car available for rent in the town, a Mercedes, for miles. Not a single vehicle had passed me yet. Now, in the distance, I could see a beat-up old car parked on the side of the road. I started slowing down when I saw a woman standing beside it, with her hands on her hips, blowing misty clouds out of her mouth like she was huffing and puffing on purpose.
Even as I drove toward her, I was quick to notice the shapeliness of her long legs, clad as they were in faded jeans. She was dressed casually, simply, like she hadn’t a care in the world. Her jet-black sweater matched her unruly dark curls, which fell around her shoulders. Her cheeks and lips were a bright pink, just like the top peeking out from under her sweater. How long had she been standing out there in the cold? Just staring at her car? Was it a flat tire?
I slowed down to a near stop behind her, but it seemed like she still hadn’t noticed me. Lost in her own world… what was she thinking?
It was only when I stopped the car, unclicked my seatbelt and opened my door, that she looked up at me. Her eyes caught me by surprise. A smoky hazel, would be the only way I could describe them. They were narrowed and suddenly very focused, like she was annoyed with me for having interrupted her peaceful meditation.
“Hi,” I greeted her with a friendly wave, shutting the car door behind me. She remained standing where she was, with her hands on her hips. “What have you got here?” I asked, smiling widely at her.
She wasn’t smiling back.
Chapter 3
Gemma
When I saw him getting out of his sleek silver Mercedes, I thought I was dreaming. He was tall, with broad rippling shoulders, and his dark hair was longish, just about grazing his shoulders. He was smiling and had said something polite, while taking a few long steps in my direction. I was still slightly dazed, reeling from all my tumultuous thoughts.
I was slightly shocked to see a stranger stepping out of a Mercedes, and more shocked because this stranger looked like he could grace a magazine cover.
His face was chiseled — an angular jaw, a sharp pointy nose, ridged brows and a long slanting forehead. His eyes matched his hair, a shining obsidian black. He had day-old stubble and deep dimples marked both his cheeks. He was in jeans and a plaid shirt, with his sleeves rolled up. But he wasn’t fooling me, those were definitely not his work clothes.
“Can I help you with that?” he asked, walking up to my car. I followed his every movement with my ey
es. The way his long athletic legs moved, the muscles on his shoulders, how large his hands were. He placed one on the trunk of my car.
“I can manage, thanks,” I said, forcing myself to snap out of the embarrassingly lustful thoughts I was having of him. This was no time to gawk at a stranger. I was still late for work.
The man didn’t make a move, despite what I had just said.
“Are you sure? Is it your tire?” he asked.
I dropped my hands from my hips. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s my tire, and I’ll change it,” I snapped, surprising even myself with the tone of my voice.
His dark glittering eyes focused on me, on my body. It was like he was assessing me with a keen trained gaze, trying to figure out my shape under my clothes. That smile lingered on his face, and the dimples remained. Despite the mature look on his face and the dusting of gray around his temples, those dimples added a boyish charm to his appearance. I had to shake my head to get the thoughts out of my head.
“Is the spare in your trunk? Pop it open; I’ll haul it out for you,” he said.
I shook my head vigorously. “I can do it myself, thanks. You can leave now, I can manage.” My words came out in a jumble as he disoriented me further. As if the messed-up thoughts in my head hadn’t been enough. He remained where he was, with his hand on the trunk and I walked over to it. We were very close now and he stood his ground, not moving an inch. I couldn’t reach the clasp on my trunk because of him.
“I’m just trying to help. It’ll only take a couple of minutes if you just let me,” he said, a little authoritatively now. He seemed like a man who was used to getting his way.
“I know how much time it’ll take; I’ve done this before,” I snapped at him again. From the looks of him, I’d probably changed more tires than he had.
“But I’m here now, and I can do it for you,” he insisted and I got a whiff of his cologne as he remained standing in front of me. A strong musky masculine smell, like cedar. A scent that suited him. Up close, I could see his rugged bronze skin, the way his shirt stretched over the expanse of his chest. I didn’t even want to allow my brain to think about whether he had a six-pack hiding under that shirt.
