by Jerilee Kaye
All the Wrong Reasons
Jerilee Kaye
All the Wrong Reasons
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, events, characters, situations and incidents mentioned in this book are products of the author’s imagination and/or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to real or actual people, living or dead, places, brands, or events are purely coincidental and not intended by the author. Reference to public figures or brands are purely for the sake of fiction. The opinion of the characters does not reflect the opinion of the author.
Cover Design by Sir Alfred Java III, Print Vault ME
Book Trailer by Print Vault ME
Cover Illustration Copyright @ Kiuikson
Editing by Lisa Kazmier, Kathleen Consuelo Antic
and Yukta Kharbanda
Beta Readers: Fatematuz Zohra, Nha-thi Luu, Keshavi Kharbanda
Copyright 2018 @ Jerilee Kaye
All Rights Reserved
This book is licensed for your private use only. Any other use of the whole or part of this book (including, but not limited to, adaptation, translation, copying, issuing copies, unauthorized lending and rental, broadcasting or making available to the internet, social media, wireless technology and application) is strictly prohibited. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
Acknowledgements
Big hugs and kisses to the following wonderful people who made this book a possibility:
My parents, Angel and Norma, you are the reason why I strive to go after my dreams.
My sisters, brother-in-law, aunts and uncles, you are the reason why I keep my feet on the ground.
My little angels, MarQuise, Maui and Keon, you’re the reason why I stay young and happy every day.
To my Sam, my loving husband, my best friend, the love of my life, you are the reason why I sleep and wake up with a smile on my face each day. Thank you for the steamy book cover and trailer.
To my Chapters family at Crazy Maple Studio, you are the reason why more people fell in love with Justin Adams.
To my editor, Lisa K and KC Antic and Yukta Kharbanda, thanks for a wonderful job.
To my beta readers, my proofreaders, Fatematuz Zohra, Nha-thi Luu, Keshavi Kharbanda, thank you very much. You guys are amazing!
To my Wattpad friends, you are the reason why I rewrote this story and made it better than ever. Thank you for contributing to the word translations. You are the reason for the unique and cool chapter titles of this book. This will always be special because of you.
To my Readers, you are the reason why I keep writing fairy tale endings, book boyfriends and happily ever afters.
1. Heroina
Latin. Etymology of the word: Heroine.
Adrienne Miller sat in her balcony, one October afternoon. She just finished unpacking her clothes and putting all her furniture in place. Her new apartment reflected every bit of her personality. Every vase, every painting and every jar showcased her style.
She felt very tired, having spent the rest of the day tidying up and decorating her new haven, but she was happy. She employed the services of an interior design team. She paid a fortune, but as she admired her white, gray and pink minimalist-designed haven, she thought that it was all worth it.
Her apartment stood on the middle floor of a luxurious building in a high-end area in Manhattan, just five blocks away from her office. It was a two bedroom that had two en-suite baths, a huge balcony, and walk-in closets. She placed a glass table with matching white steel chairs on her balcony which had a breathtaking view of Manhattan.
The moment her broker showed her the apartment, she immediately fell in love with it. It was expensive, but it was one of her dreams. She never indulged in other expensive material things. For quite some time now, she had been saving for this apartment, a place where she would spend the rest of her life. According to her friends, this is where she will wile away her virgin years.
Yes. She was twenty-five years old. Never been touched and infrequently kissed.
Her boyfriend, Troy Williams, lived a thousand miles away from her. They had been together for three years now, but he lived in Massachusetts. While he went to medical school, she worked as an editor in Manhattan.
Troy was old-fashioned. Traditional and quite a gentleman. He never suggested they go to bed together and she was thankful about it. Adrienne had been fantasizing about her first time all her life. She wanted it to be an intense experience. The man, the time and the place…every single thing had to be perfect.
She wanted no regrets. It had to be unforgettable. She didn’t hold on to it for so long only to be disappointed. She wouldn’t have sex just for the sake of losing her virginity. She wanted it to be electrifying and memorable, so that when her hair turned gray, she’d go back to that particular moment and remember it only with a smile on her face, nothing less.
Maybe she’d do it with Troy someday, but until they’re both ready, Adrienne felt satisfied given the way things were.
She met Troy at a party she attended with her family. His parents were friends with hers. Adrienne thought he was cute and comfortable to be with, but not exactly her type. She usually preferred guys with a dangerous edge, cool façade and a devil-may-care attitude. But she knew too well that there’s a high price to pay to be with a guy like that. There’s too much risk involved and Adrienne didn’t see herself as a risk taker. The last thing she wanted was to lose herself to a guy who would easily fool around with other girls. So, she settled for safe, cute and comfortable. And Troy, with his dark blonde hair and dark brown eyes, tan skin and deep dimples was as secure as a security blanket.
She recalled one of the many conversations she had with her friends about Troy.
Her best friend, Yuan Davis, once told her, “You should really think better of yourself. I think there are better fish in the ocean.”
She met Yuan in college and they’ve been BFFs ever since. He was half-Japanese, half-American and full-on fabulous.
Her friends thought of Troy as too prim, too proper. In other words, too boring for her. They believed she deserved somebody way cuter than him. Someone who could make her laugh, challenge her mind, and encourage her to explore her wilder side.
Adrienne could understand them perfectly well. She never heard Troy tell a joke or laugh at one. And he couldn’t seem to tolerate simple foibles in human behavior, even temporary things like getting wasted, occasional smoking, miniskirts or highlighted hair irked him. He was unaware that Adrienne herself had found refuge with a cigarette once in a while.
“He’s like the fireman who will always water your fire!” Her other best friend, Jill Durmont said. “You have a wilder spirit than you’d like to admit. Having a guy who puts a stopper on all your flair won’t help you spread your wings.”
Like Yuan, Adrienne met Jill in college too. She’s a petite blonde who writes gossip columns for the magazine Adrienne works for.
Troy hoped to be a doctor one day, just like his parents. Adrienne’s sister, Kimberly, goes to the same medical school as Troy.
Adrienne could never be a doctor, no matter how smart she was. She couldn’t stand the sight and smell of blood. She was the odd one out in a family of doctors. Well, maybe if you can’t be one then marry one. And maybe that was the reason why she dated Troy in the first place.
She had a broken relationship with her mother. Somehow, she felt that her mother never loved her the way she loved her sister. And all her life, she tried her best to win her over. But she
never did. Not even when she got accepted by the best universities in the country. Not even when she graduated with honors.
Instead of being proud, her mother said, “It’s a very easy program!”
Adrienne earned a dual degree in journalism and mass communications. She possessed a talent for writing. She was the only one in her family who had a knack for it. Her sister couldn’t put a paragraph together, her mother couldn’t understand the context of metaphors and her father never showed interest in any form of literature. But no matter how good she was, her family brushed off her achievements like they were insignificant.
At the party where she met Troy, her mother introduced him to her sister first. But Troy couldn’t take his eyes off her. He tried to strike up a conversation with her every chance he got.
Her mother must have really liked Troy for it not to matter which daughter he asked out. At first, she didn’t know what her mother saw in him. But she became too engrossed in pleasing her that she eventually found herself enjoying Troy’s company too.
But she lived in New York and he was in medical school in Massachusetts. Her odd working hours and his heavy load made it impossible for them to see each other often.
They often spoke on the phone, but they only saw each other once a month, sometimes less than that. However, she got used to their setup and thought that the phone calls and video chats were enough to keep her secure with their relationship.
What else could she ask for? He loved her. She loved him. Her mother strongly approved of their relationship. When the time felt right, maybe he’d propose to her and she’d lose her virginity on their wedding night. What else could be more perfect?
Maybe she wasn’t like Jill or the other women who enjoyed sex and sleeping with their boyfriends. She accepted feeling old-fashioned and would rather wait for the right guy or for marriage. Her friends might argue that she just said this because Troy never triggered sexual feelings in her, but what if she wasn’t a sexual person? What if she just felt incapable of succumbing to intense passion? Moreover, her conversations with Troy always drifted into topics like HIV, teenage pregnancy and abortion. If those weren’t mood-killers for sex, she didn’t know what might be.
Like her parents, Troy didn’t approve of her job. Getting this apartment offered a way for her to show them that she could manage well on her own, even though she wasn’t a doctor. She found a way to assert her independence and stand up for herself, regardless of what they wanted her to do or who they wanted her to be.
Suddenly, Adrienne felt glum. Ten minutes ago, she was happy and content with her life, but now, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Thinking about Troy and her parents had that effect on her. No matter how posh this apartment seemed, her mother wouldn’t approve of it. She would think Adrienne wasted her money. True, it put a huge dent in her savings, and she would require years to pay off a sizable mortgage, but when did she ever do anything risky in her life?
Her eyes drifted off her neighbors’ balcony. She hadn’t seen them yet, and she hoped they’d be nice or at the very least, trustworthy. She shared a bedroom wall with them. Not only that, her bedroom window ran parallel to theirs and a wide platform connected them, the kind that would allow them to break into her apartment through her bedroom window. This was the only thing she didn’t like about her place. Every day she prayed that she hadn’t become neighbors with mobsters.
She scanned the steel chairs and glass table on the balcony beside hers. They seemed almost the same as hers, only theirs were black. Good to know that she and her neighbors had the same taste.
She noticed an abandoned bottle of Heineken and an ashtray with cigarette butts. She guessed that at least one male lived in that family. And most likely, no babies. She believed either she lived next to a couple or a bachelor. It’s comforting to know no one would complain if she held parties or let her friends sleepover and Yuan decided to play “Bette Davis Eyes” over and over again.
She turned around and started going back into her living room. Just before she could completely go inside, she caught something out of the corner of her eye.
Her neighbor stepped out to his balcony. He wore only a pair of jeans. She stared at his perfectly tanned torso. His biceps were well-toned and she figured he had at least a six pack.
He lit a cigarette and stared at their gorgeous city view, lost in his thoughts. His jet-black hair was disheveled and even from afar, she could make out his long, dark eyelashes.
As she stared at his profile, a sense of familiarity filled her.
Ohmigod! It can’t be!
Her heart pounded loudly inside her rib cage.
She knew him. He was… NYC’s most wanted bachelor… a.k.a. the City’s most notorious playboy.
Justin Adams.
Her mind raced with information about him, she didn’t even know she had.
Prodigal heir of Adams Industries, son of a steel and mining magnate. Filthy rich. But instead of living in the shadows of his father, he desired to draw his own map, his own future. He graduated with a double degree from Harvard, straight As, high distinction, but he made his father quite angry when he announced that he wouldn’t work for their company right away. Instead, he chose to play in the stock market and opted to use his hobby, photography, for gainful employment.
He worked as a freelance photographer for Blush, the magazine that also employed her. He was a celebrity in her office. Every single girl there fancied herself in love with him. Even Jill couldn’t stop talking about him like he was God’s gift to women, or finally one guy deserved being called one.
Adrienne was probably the only one who didn’t want to go to bed with him. She found him intriguing, yes. But she didn’t really understand the fuss about him.
She hid behind her curtain and continued to watch him.
Okay. He isn’t bad. No! Who am I kidding? He looked as handsome as the devil himself!
She sighed to herself. Maybe he’s worth the fuss, after all!
He fished his phone out of his pocket and made some calls while standing in his balcony. After a few minutes, he put out his light and went inside. She continued watching him through her window. He put on a white shirt, grabbed his leather jacket and left.
Adrienne couldn’t help smiling to herself.
My apartment just got even more interesting!
* * *
A few weeks later, Adrienne rushed through a deadline Monday evening. Part of her job was to write reviews about establishments around the city. Today, she needed to write an article about a newly-opened restaurant on Fifth Avenue. The food wasn’t so great, the prices not so cheap, and the service a bit unorganized. She ordered a Piña Colada, and twice she received a Margarita.
She didn’t want to be known around the block as the bitch who could shut down a decent restaurant, but she didn’t want to compromise her professional point of view, either.
She couldn’t concentrate on her work. The music from her neighbor’s residence was far too loud. Moreover, the fact that she knew he sat on the balcony, playing poker with his friends, and that she could hear him laugh made it even harder for her.
She went out to the balcony to light a cigarette. She badly needed a smoke and she didn’t want to light up inside her apartment. The minute she stepped out, she noticed that the guys in the other balcony all fell silent. She suddenly felt self-conscious.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
She needed to calm herself. She’s a confident woman and she has a boyfriend. Her knees shouldn’t turn to jelly just because she thought that Manhattan’s playboys had started to survey her long legs.
Just then, her phone rang.
Thank God!
She needed a distraction. She craved thinking about anything other than her devilishly handsome neighbor.
“Hi honey, how are you? It’s Troy.”
“I’m grood…” She replied, unable to decide whether to say ‘good’ or ‘great’.
“What?”
Dam
n it!
“I’m good. I meant I’m good. How about you? How are you?”
“Not too bad. I was out with Kim last night. She’s my designated tutor now,” he said with a chuckle.
“She’ll be happy to help you. Our mom likes you.”
“And I’m a lucky guy, aren’t I?”
“Hmmm…”
Troy went on about his study date with Kimberly and she couldn’t quite concentrate on what he was saying. She’s hearing medical terms that she didn’t need to know. She’s got too much in her head… the awful food, the restaurant whose existence she was about to end in a few hours, and damn! She can’t seem to get a certain dark-haired devil out of her mind.
Absent-mindedly, she let out a groan.
“What?” Troy asked. Apparently, he didn’t think that his monologue on chlamydia deserved a groan. “What are you doing? Are you with someone?”
“I’m alone!” she replied. She must have sounded too defensive because Troy didn’t believe her…but she hadn’t even lied. She was alone. Yet the closest living, breathing human beings sat about ten feet away from her.
“You sound distracted. It didn’t seem like you were listening to me at all.”
“Troy, please, give me a break. I just remembered this restaurant I likely will close down in a few hours because of an awful review I’m thinking of writing and I don’t want to do it. That’s why I groaned.”
Troy fell silent for a few seconds. Then he added, “Are you sure?”
She let out a frustrated sigh. Then she put out her cigarette and managed to walk back to her living room. By putting herself beyond anyone who could see her, she found her focus.
“Yes, I’m sure. Come on. You’re my first ever boyfriend. I didn’t even date anybody seriously before I met you. When did I ever give you a reason to doubt me?”
She always felt that Troy didn’t trust her enough. Like she had this reputation of being a slut that everybody knew about except for him.
