Two years later.
"You've got to be kidding me," I groan after I turn the page of the book I'm reading to find the next one blank except for the words To be continued...For a moment, I just stare at the paper with eyes and mouth wide, part of me hoping that more words will magically appear like the details of a Polaroid picture exposed to light and air. When they don't, I accept my defeat with a sigh. I close the book and hug it to my chest as I sink into the heap of pillows on my bed.I can't believe the author ended the book just like that, with the revelation of a shocking secret that I never saw coming, and which now changes everything. I don't even know how the main characters are going to end up together now, and I'll be heartbroken if they don't. It's just so mean. And yet, I have to admit it's also pure genius. It's just like when you're watching a movie, and you hate the villain but then you're also in awe of the actor because he played his role so well and made you hate him so much. This way, I'm definitely buying the next book when it comes out. In fact, I can't wait to devour it.When is it coming out?I go online on my laptop to check. Next year? I have to wait that long? Now, this is just torture.I allow myself to simmer in my frustration for a minute. If only I had someone to talk to about this book, I'd probably feel better faster, but I don't. It's sad, really.The only thing sadder than finishing a book is not having anyone to discuss it with. That's why book clubs were invented.But what can I do? I left my few friends back in New York and I haven't made any new ones.Well, there are some people from the company that I have lunch with, but I haven't had the chance to hang out with them after work. More accurately, I haven't had the time. I usually have to stay at the office until late at night. Even when I don't, I'm on the phone or the computer or by Shawn's side nearly every minute of the day, trying to keep track of everything without losing my own sanity and composure. By the time I get home, I'm so exhausted I go straight to bed.Except Friday nights like tonight. Knowing I have two days to rest gives me an extra boost of energy so I can stay up and read a book. Too bad I finished this one before ten.As I place the book on the nightstand, my eyes fall on the family photo in the red frame — my dad, my mom and me after I just played a fairy in a school play. Happy days.I pick up the frame and put it on my lap.I miss them. Growing up, I knew that I would lose them at a young age since they were already old when they had me.My mom was thirty-seven, my father forty-two. They knew it, too, so they did their best to prepare me, to make sure I could stand on my own two feet when it happened. I could. I did.But I wasn't ready.I wish they were still around. I wish I could hear my dad's laughter again even though I'll never forget the sound of it. He loved to make jokes and was always the first to laugh at them.I wish I could have more of my mother's cooking. She loved to make pastry — pies, pasta, dumplings. She would bring them to my room whenever I had to stay up late studying or when she knew I'd had a bad day. More than anything, I just wish they were still here so I could talk to them. so that I could tell them all about work and hear their words of advice and encouragement, or just talk to them about anything and not feel so alone like I do on nights like this.I know I'm alone, and most of the time, I'm fine. But there's something about the silence and the shadows of the night that turns my solitude into a sharp knife that stabs me in the gut.I put the frame back on the nightstand with a lump in my throat. Then I see the leather-bound journal. My journal.I've kept one since I was a kid.I don't write in it every day, usually just when I have ideas I want to reflect on, experiences I want to remember, thoughts I need to process or emotions I just need to get into words so I can make sense of them and take control of them. Like now.I pick up the journal, slide the strap off and find a blank page. Then I take the pen from my drawer and start to write.Nights like this, it's hard to breathe through the air of loneliness that fills my dark room. It's almost like fog or smoke.Nights like this, I wish I was anywhere else but my apartment. Maybe in a Greek seaside town, or Paris, or a charming Scottish village.Nights like this, I wish I had someone. Someone to wrap their arms around me and tell me everything will be alright.I wish I had someone I could call my own. A child. A son or a daughter to carry in my arms and press against my heart, whose forehead I can kiss, whose tiny fingers I can wrap around one of mine. I'm not sure I'll make a good mother, but I know I'm going to love the little person who comes out of my body like I've never loved before. Together, we'll conquer the world.And maybe a man of my own, too. A lover to keep me company in my bed. A good man who will keep the shadows at bay until morning, who will touch me in all the magical ways a woman wants to be touched. He'll pin my hands above my head and demand my surrender with his mouth, claiming my lips and worshiping my breasts. With his fingers, he will make me melt, pressing the secret button that transforms my excitement into ecstasy.I stop writing as heat flows from my fingertips to my toes, turning into an ache as it fills my breasts and then an inch as it settles between my legs. I can't ignore it.I put my pen and my journal down. Then I close my eyes and lie back.I lift the hem of my oversize shirt all the way to my armpits. I trap it between my teeth before pushing the waistband of my underwear down to my knees.I raise my knees and slip my hand between my legs. My fingers search for my nub and find it in seconds. As I stroke it, I touch my breast with my other hand. I pinch the nipple gently, then start to rub it.My hands in place, I let my imagination wander. I've never had sex before. Never had time for romance except for the one I had in high school which, thankfully, didn't get physical, because that guy was a jerk. So, I simply conjure the sex acts from the memories of the books I've read, pretending I'm the heroine.I think about the book I just read, about that scene in the orchard. I pretend I'm l
"Thank goodness. Such a close call." I let out a sigh of relief after getting off the phone.I managed to get in touch with the tailor in Switzerland. Thank goodness he was already awake. I've just sent him payment from the digital wallet set up on my office computer and told him to deliver the suits to the hotel as soon as he's finished with them.In short, I've managed to prevent a disaster. Now, Shawn is all set for Switzerland.And I can go home.My lonely flat.I glance at the door to his office as I gather my things. I can see the sliver of light beneath it so I know he's still inside. I should get home before he knows I'm here and —I gasp as I see the leather-bound journal inside my purse.What?I pick it up and flip through the pages just to make sure it is what I think it is. It's my journal, alright. I must have accidentally shoved it inside my purse along with my other things while I was panicking over my mistake.Oh, Felicity, you can be so stupid sometimes.I'm about to
Strange, I think as I watch Felicity disappear behind the elevator doors. I feel like the woman I've just spoken to is completely different from the one I've been working closely with for the past two years.It's not just because Felicity looked different. I've only ever seen her in stiff dresses or colored silk blouses and tight-fitting skirts, but tonight she was wearing pants and a white top that seemed to hang from her shoulders. The topmost button was left undone, too, and though her cleavage remained concealed, I could see her black bra through the thin fabric. I had to keep myself from staring at it, in fact. Then there's her hair.Apart from that first time I met her, I've always seen her with her cappuccino mane all combed back and tied up, which is attractive enough, but nothing compared to when she has her hair down. There's just something sensual about a woman whose shiny locks are flowing freely past her shoulders, like they're inviting me to run my fingers through them.
"Another," I tell the bartender after setting down my empty glass of Scotch for the fourth time. He refills it from the bottle within seconds."Same here," Ryker says, pointing to his empty glass of gin tonic."Looks like the two of you are having it rough," Asher remarks as he takes a sip of his martini. "It's that Swiss acquisition, isn't it?""The question is: Why don't you seem as anxious?" Ryker asks him. "Or have you forgotten that if this acquisition doesn't push through, it will be bad for the whole company?""I know, but it will still be worse for the two of you," Asher says.Ryker frowns."Maybe we should just leave him here when we go to Switzerland," I say."What do you think, Ryker?""Hey!" Asher complains. "No fair. I've already made plans for Switzerland."Ryker raises an eyebrow. "Plans?""I've heard Swiss women are gorgeous."Ryker rolls his eyes. I know what he's thinking — that some things never change."We are going to Switzerland for work, you know," I remind Ashe
Shawn is taking me with him to Switzerland? I can't believe my ears.He's never brought me along on his business trips before. Why now? Why all of a sudden? If he was planning on bringing me along, he could have told me weeks ago. I've already made all the arrangements. He didn't think of it then, so why think of it now? What made him change his mind?"I know it's a bit sudden," Shawn tells me. "But I've realized that this trip is even more important than I thought. I've never handled an acquisition this big. I want to be prepared for anything, so I need you there."Perfectly understandable, but I still can't bring myself to believe it. My fingers clutch the edges of the tablet in my hands, afraid that like this dream come true I've just been handed, it might slip away and shatter.Can this be real? Is it really alright for me to go to Switzerland with Shawn? I mean, we'll be traveling together and we might find ourselves alone together. What if I lose my composure again like I did la
The flight from Chicago to Zurich takes a little less than nine hours.I spend the first half hour marveling at the inside of Shawn's jet - well, it's owned by the company, actually, but this one is for the exclusive use of the CEO.It's a Gulfstream, or so Henry, the lone flight attendant on the plane, tells me. It's supposed to carry only eleven passengers, so I thought it would be small and cramped. Boy, was I wrong.Sure, it definitely looks like a dwarf on the outside compared to the gigantic commercial planes, but inside there's enough space for a kid to run and kick a ball around. And that's just the seating area. There's a dining area with a bar, a kitchen, a bathroom with a shower and a conference room.More than the space, it's the atmosphere of luxury that has me gasping and gaping in awe. The soft leather seats that come with neck massagers and convert into flat beds. The thick, burgundy carpet. Ambient lighting. My own 15-inch TV. Then there's the service designed to make
"I don't think I've ever eaten anything quite like that," I say as I dab my lips with the table napkin. "Is this what you eat all the time?""Not all the time," Shawn answers. "But it's one of my favorites. The chef who designed this, he was serving his food in a small hut when I first met him. Now he has an empire not just all, over Asia but all over Europe, to — ""And he's here?" I ask with arched eyebrows."No. He hates flying, But the chef who cooked for us this evening trained under him, among many others. He's very skillful,"I put my hands up. "No need to convince me. If the next dish is as good as this, I'll be very happy."Shawn grins. "I think you will be."Moments later, the second course arrives — a pair of pot stickers with a bit of salad on the side and a dark dipping sauce.The moment I see it, my chest tightens. I grip it as I draw a deep breath."Is something wrong?" Shawn asks me.I shake my head but fail to conceal my emotions. "It's just that this is one of the th
I guess those heaps of energy ran out.I turn off the light above Felicity's seat and press the button to push it back a bit further so she'll be more comfortable. She stirs but remains asleep. I drape the fleece blanket over her, Wrapping it around her shoulders. She gives off a sound of contentment like the purring of a cat. It makes me smile, but at the same time I feel a sliver of anxiety as I stare at her sleeping face.Felicity, what am I going to do with you?I've never met a woman who could make me feel so many emotions all at once. Earlier, while she was working, I couldn't help but admire her for working so hard. Her fingers were punching the keyboard like crazy, her eyes boring holes into her screen. It made me feel almost ashamed because it felt like she was working harder than I was. But it also inspired me to keep working hard myself. At the same time, I wanted to wrench her laptop away from her and tell her to stop working so we could continue with the conversation we h
The weeks passed, and after confirmation from the doctor, they set to work decorating one of the rooms into a nursery. They went for neutral colors and gave Logan free rein to help them decorate. He had an artistic eye, and Norman loved seeing the boy come out of his shell. During the decorating of the nursery, it sank in that he was going to have a baby.They were going to have a tiny little life in their hands. It wasn't about being a father, or for Sasha a mother, as they already felt that way for Logan. He'd spoken with Sasha about it, and she had the same thoughts and fears as he did.Norman knew he hadn't made a mistake with Sasha. Not only did he love her, but she was a fantastic mom, and she knew exactly what to say and do to help Logan along the way. Therewere moments, late at night, where he'd still have nightmares.She never once shouted at him. Instead, she'd nurture him, and love him.Once the nursery was complete, they went shopping, letting Logan pick some of the stuff
Two weeks after purchasing the house, they had Logan officially adopted. Norman took as much time away from the office as he could. Sasha went to the office between school hours, completing his work for him. He didn't want her to hire anyone else. Another two weeks after they had Logan, their house was available, and they moved in on that weekend. Her parents came to help as much as they could.They looked after Logan while she and Norman organized movers. They had her mother's slow-cooked pulled pork for dinner rather than have takeout.For an entire weekend, they got the house exactly as they wanted, starting with the bedrooms, and bathroom. Time seemed to move quickly but smoothly where life just played out.Logan came out of his shell, and completely animated their lives. She loved him like he was her own son. He talked constantly about what he loved, which bands he enjoyed listening to. It was fun getting to find out what food he liked as well. He didn't like broccoli, which was
Norman watched as Sasha kissed Logan's cheek, wrapping him up in his new jacket. Each time they brought him back to the foster home, the harder it was to leave him behind.There had been a snag with the adoption, but Shannon was dealing with it.There had to be an assessment done on Logan to make sure he wanted to live with them.Their backgrounds had come back fine, and Shannon assured him it was just down to paperwork. One department needing to talk to another, and rather than phone calls, they had to do it in paper. He was used to problems like this.Logan threw his arms around Sasha, holding her close.She was so beautiful, and she took his breath away. They had been together for a little over a month now. A month of being married, and he loved her ever more.Shannon nodded at him, taking hold of Logan's hand as Sasha came back to him."I hate this. I hate leaving him.""We'll have him soon. I've already got my lawyers working on speeding up the process." He handed her some leafle
Sasha watched as Norman spoke with his clients. It had been a week since he'd asked her about Logan. Things were moving slowly with Logan, but Shannon was reassured that they would be able to have him by next week. Until then, they both went and visited, getting Logan used to them.The boys with Logan weren't angry or upset that he was coming home with them. In fact, they were damn happy. She was shocked by the love the boys showed Logan, and she was proud.The workplace gossip had died down now. No one was whispering behind their hands, looking at them, and laughing. It was the laughter she'd hated more than anything. Norman wouldn't let them hide their relationship anymore, and for that she was glad. She'd never enjoyed hiding that part of herself, and it never felt natural for her to."Here you go," Lottie said, interrupting her."So sorry, I was away in a different land there," she said, taking the mail from her."Marriage must really suit you.""Why do you say that?""You're pract
"Norman, this is my mom and dad, Emma and Harold Miller," Sasha said.The two people were a lot older than Norman imagined, but he saw that they were loving, caring people. The kindness in their eyes showed through. While he'd been participating in this yearly event of torture, "taste the food", he'd noticed her parents arrive. The care they gave to each child was something he admired."Hello, it's great to meet you," he said."It's about damn time we met you. Been married for what? A month or so, and we're only getting to meet you now. It's a disgrace.""Dad, stop it," Sasha said, chuckling. "We've been busy, and we both know you'd have needed to calm down before you could even accept him into your life.""Yeah, well, a father is still allowed to be ... annoyed."Norman smiled as he noticed Harold hesitated before saying something, making sure kids didn't hear any cussing words.According to Shannon, the event was a roaring success. Norman would double, maybe even triple, his donatio
That Saturday, Sasha stayed beside Norman, holding onto his arm as they were surrounded by congratulations. She didn't miss the questioning looks that some were throwing their way. There was no mistaking their confused thoughts. They were all wondering why he was with her.Norman, though, he was so different. The kids from over ten different foster homes in the area had turned up at the school for a day of fun. Every year Norman would donate money to the school so that he could host these events. The previous four years she had stayed in the background, playing her part but never really getting too close.This year was different. Norman grabbed her arm, holding up their hands, and announcing to the whole event that they were husband and wife. He didn't address anyone but the kids."Kids, listen up. Something is a little different this year. You see this beautiful lady by my side?""She's your PA," one kid said."Now she's my wife. Sasha accepted my proposal.""Does that mean you're in
Later that night, Norman was waiting for Sasha to finish in the shower. He would join her, but he had plans with her, and he intended to carry them out. After he'd escorted her to the human resources department for the two of them to change their marital status, and also her name, his building was humming with gossip.Martha and Lottie took the time to stop by her desk to ask about the details of what was going on. When she had looked toward him, he'd gone to help her, letting them know that they couldn't stop love.Norman stared at his reflection in one of the mirrors, and then stared down at his wedding band.Love.He'd never felt it before in his life. The people in his world didn't deserve love, and he didn't really believe in it either. At least, he hadn't.No, he didn't love Sasha.Love was just an element of control that people used.He believed in sex.Sasha came out of the bathroom dressed in a towel."Why did you take my nightshirt?""Why would I want you dressed?" He ran hi
"Please tell me he's a meat eater?" her mother, Emma, asked."Yes, Norman likes meat."Sasha sat outside of the office building, eating a sandwich. Norman was on a very important conference call. She made sure he had some lunch and decided to eat hers outside on one of the walls, watching the hustle and bustle of the city life go by."Good, good. I have no problem with people being vegetarian, or whatever they want to call it. Just not for me. A meal is not a meal without some meat.""There are a lot of people who will disagree. I like vegetarian food. You should make the lasagna. Amazing."She heard her mother's scoff. "Can you imagine me feeding Harold a vegetarian lasagna?""Nope. Dad wouldn't talk to you for weeks.""Now that you say that, I may just make it for him."Sasha started laughing. Her mother and father loved each other very much. "How much does he know of... my arrangement?""He knows everything, sweetie. You know I don't keep things like that from your father."Sasha g
One glorious week had passed. Norman stared out of his office window, and couldn't keep the smile from his face. He was married, and slowly, he was moving Sasha into his place. Their wedding hadn't been a big deal.No white dress, no flowers, no guests. Like Sasha wanted, they'd gone down to the courtrooms during a break, and simply gotten married, signed the paperwork, sealed it all up, and he'd placed a ring on her finger. It had to be one of the coldest moments of his life. Then he recalled Sasha's smile, and nothing had been cold about that day. They all had to make sacrifices, and she was giving up her life to be with him.There had been a few minor setbacks. She didn't want anyone to know that he was married in the office, so the ring he wore was around his neck attached to a necklace. Sasha wouldn't wear her ring either, which pissed him the fuck off.She belonged to him. They were in the process of making a baby together, and they were husband and wife. It would only be a matt