Chapter 1

                                                           Mira

Nine years later.

“Mimi!”

I groan when I hear my older sister’s voice shrieking my name from somewhere in the house. I bury my face under my pillow and sigh, drifting off to sleep again until my bedroom door swings open, and Ayla stands in the doorway. “Mimi!” She shouts and stomps into my bedroom.

“What.” I sigh, my voice muffled from under the pillow. I whine when she yanks the duvet from over me, grabs my leg, and pulls me out of the confines of my warm, comfortable bed.

“Ayla! I’m not done sleeping.” I complain, fisting the bedsheet and swinging my unrestricted leg to free my other leg clamped between my sister's hands, but I fail miserably when the bedsheet peels off, and I’m sliding off the bed. I give the sheet a nasty look as I fall off the bed with a thud.

“Must I wake you up like this every damn morning?” Ayla complains, placing her hands on her hips and glaring down at me.

“You tell me? Must you?” I glower back while I clamber up to my feet. “I have this thing…what’s it called? Oh, that’s it, an alarm!” I grumble, rubbing my sore behind, and she hits me with a pillow over the head.

I glare at her.

“Which you sleep through. What are you going to do when I move out?” I close my eyes and stretch with an audible groan.

“Throw a party.” I tease with a toothy grin, and she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me, evidently not as amused as I was. “Ayla, stop being such a brat. I can take care of myself. I mean, I am twenty-five years old, after all.”  

Ayla rolls her eyes while she looks at herself in the full-length mirror in my room, tugging down her burgundy pencil skirt and smoothing out the white, sleeveless button-down blouse she was wearing. I’ve been looking for that skirt for three days straight. She’s forever stealing my things.

“Wouldn’t kill you to act like it now and again, Mimi.” She mutters, picking up my red lip gloss and applying a coat over her lips. I sigh and stroll over to my walk-in closet to pick out an outfit for the day.

“Wouldn’t kill you to enjoy living a little either, Ayla. God, stop taking yourself so seriously. You’re so uptight.” I grumble, pulling out a beige Dior midi dress.

“I am not uptight.” She retorts, spinning to look at me.  

“She says in an uptight manner.” I throw over my shoulder and run into my en-suite bathroom when she comes running at me. I grin, amused, and rather chuffed with myself for filling my daily quota of annoying my big sister. We love each other dearly, but we couldn’t be more different. Ayla’s the quiet, responsible sister, and I’m the complete opposite. The social butterfly, the go-getter like my father, while Ayla is more reserved and timid like mother dearest. That’s why I’m the Vice President of the family business that my father started with Uncle Grayson almost eighteen years ago, around a year after we met the King's.

Ahh, the Kings... The thought of Dev still stings to this day. Devin King—my childhood best friend, my first everything—left me devastated when he took off without a word nine years ago. I’ll never forget that day.  I had a sleepover at my aunt’s, and when I got back home, I found out that Devin and his family had left to go live in Singapore. He didn’t even tell me that they were planning on moving away. I had to find out from my parents.

Eleven years of friendship, many firsts, and I didn’t even deserve a goodbye, especially after what happened between us two days before he left. Devin-fucking-King left me with a void so deep in my heart that, no matter how hard I’ve tried, just doesn’t seem to vanish—but I’ve learned to live with it, and as long as he stays out of sight, he’s…well, I wouldn’t say he’s out of mind, but it’s certainly easier to deal with.

Onwards and upwards, I have too much work to deal with at the office today to dwell on the likes of him, and despite the moderately heavy drinking with the girls and Wy last night, I’m in a good mood.

After my shower, I get ready and bounce out of my bedroom, checking my phone as I walk down the stairs. I live with my sister and my openly gay BFF Wyatt. Ayla is moving into her own apartment at the end of the month. I will miss her, but she’s like a mother hen, constantly clucking around and stealing my clothes and make-up. I live in a beautiful three-bedroom house in Chelsea. My family is well off after my father’s publishing company with Uncle Grayson took off. Selling over eight hundred million digital copies annually. Evans & King publishing has become a well-respected publishing company worldwide.

I love my job as a Vice President. Dealing with people. Ayla is the head of H.R, which I find horrendously tedious, but she loves it.

I see a message from a guy I met at the bar last night and smile, texting him back before I jump into my silver BMW M8 and wait for Ayla to get in the passenger side.

“We’re going to be late for this meeting that dad has arranged.” Ayla huffs, pulling her seatbelt on and fixing her freshly coloured auburn hair.

“I’ll get us there,” I reassure her, grinning, and she shoots me a worried glance, her thinly shaped brows rising.

“No speeding, Mimi!” I roll my eyes and slide my ray bans on and pull out of the garage.

“Jesus, you’re such a killjoy. You do have your own car. You can drive it, you know?”

Ayla smiles, reaches over and squeezes my cheek. “I know, but I love riding with my baby sister. Besides we work together, it makes little sense to take two cars. It’s also good for the environment. Statistically—”

I slap her hand away from my face and rub my cheek. “No!” I grumble irritably, “Don’t start with your green earth stuff, Ayla, I will kill you.” I warn her, and she sinks back in her seat and sighs rather dramatically.

“Fine, if you want to be a part of the problem and not the solution...” I groan and tune her out when she rambles on and on about the benefits of driving electric cars. I throw it in her face every time her car runs out of charge, and I have to drive my car to pick her arse up.

She also turned Vegan three years ago and tried her best to convert me too, but I couldn’t commit. She caught me stuffing my face with a Big Mac and almost had a meltdown. The way she screamed my name damn near had me choking to death. I smirk at that memory. I support her no matter what she decides to do, but love to tease her about it. Her passion for the planet and animals is actually quite endearing, and I adore that about her.

I pick up my phone, play our song, and turn the radio up while giving her a dewy-eyed look. Ayla grins and shakes her head when Taylor Swift’s ‘Shake it off’ thunders through the speakers while we drive, singing and dancing along to the song.

I roll to a stop at the lights, and a black Mercedes Benz pulls up beside me. I look over and see the cute guy in the driver’s seat watching me. He revs his engine and smirks, silently challenging me. I flash him a broad smile, and just as the light goes amber, I kiss my index and middle finger and wave them at him.

“Mimi… don’t you dare,” Ayla warns just as I press down on the accelerator and speed off with him close behind me. The road ahead was clear, and I left him in my rearview mirror. “You’re going to get yourself killed one day with these stupid stunts.” She scolds me with a scowl, and I smile.

“I was barely doing sixty. Besides, he’s in an SL500. He didn’t stand a chance against my baby. Serves him right for underestimating me.” I justify with a shrug, and Ayla shakes her head as we pull into the company car park. I slam my foot on the brakes when I see a car parked in my spot. “What in the ever-living crap is this?” I utter, scowling at the Lamborghini jeep sitting in my parking spot. I roll my window down and poke my head out of the window. “Marcus?!”

The parking attendant—a tall, young man comes running over to me when he heard my voice. “Yes, Miss Evans?”

“Marcus, whose car is this, and why is it in my spot?” He looks at the car and then at me.

“I’m not sure, Miss Evans. I only just got on shift.” I sigh and nod. 

“Thank you, Marcus.” He waves at Ayla and me and goes back to his office. “There is a sign that says VP. What kind of idiot parks in a reserved parking space?” I grumble as I pull up in another parking bay.

“Evidently, one that thinks they can do what they want and doesn’t give a toss.” We get out of the car and walk toward the back entrance of the building. Ayla walks over to the elevator while I make a beeline to the stairs. I’m claustrophobic and have a fear of elevators, so I climb twenty flights of stairs every day. “When are you going to get over your fear of elevators, Mimi? You’re a grown woman!”

 “Fear has no age!” I shout down from the second floor. “Besides, it's exercise and keeps my butt firm and legs looking fire.” I can hear her muttering to herself and ignore it as I continue climbing up. I stop at the tenth floor when my calves burn and rest for a few minutes before I go up the rest of the way.

When I get to the office, my knees are shaking, and I’m sweating in places I definitely don’t want to be. My assistant Molly is already waiting for me by the door with my coffee and perspiration spray. “Lift.” I lift my arms, and she sprays me and hands me my grande caramel latte.

“Has the meeting started yet?” I ask her, and she shakes her head, walking beside me.

“Not yet. The new CEO was running late also, so you’ve got a couple of minutes. By the way…wow.” I stop walking and look at her.

“Wow? What does wow mean?”

“He’s probably the hottest man I have ever seen in my life. When he walked out of that elevator, the jaw of every female, including mine, hit the floor.”

“Interesting.” I deviate to the bathroom and fix myself up before joining the rest for the meeting to introduce this new CEO that my dad was tight-lipped about.

Let’s meet this new hottie CEO that I’ll be spending most of my time with. I push the door open and take a sip of my delicious coffee as I do so, and everyone in the room turns and looks at me.

“Ahh, here she is.” My father announces, smiling. I return his smile, which falls just as quickly when the newly appointed CEO rises to his feet. The world, as I knew it came to a halt around me when our eyes met.

No stinking way.

The room fell silent as we stood staring at one another. “Hey, Tinks.”

The coffee cup slips out of my hold and hits the floor, spilling all over the place. “Devin?” I whisper. It couldn’t be. He looks so different, but so familiar at the same time. Those deep brown eyes of his still warms me through and through. He’s taller than I last remember. If I had to guess, I’d say six-foot-two, and he’s beefed up significantly. And while he was handsome before, Molly wasn’t kidding when she said he was effing hot.

His hair has gotten darker, cut short on the sides and a little longer on the top styled neatly. After he left nine years ago, I got curious and googled him but found nothing. He kept himself off social media, and I never had the nerve to check again. The Devin I remember in my mind and this man standing before me are polar opposites, but he’s just gorgeous, and I hate that. A jawline so sharp it could cut glass, high cheekbones and those luscious full lips, and he’s now got a short-trimmed beard.

It felt like an eternity had gone by while we stood there staring at one another, but it was only thirty seconds in reality. I didn’t know what to feel or what to do. A part of me wanted to turn and run, but the other was still so angry with him.

Devin’s gaze flitters over me and settles on my eyes again. “It’s good to see you.”

I had a snarky remark all ready, but we had other people in the room with us at the moment, and I didn’t want to make everyone else uncomfortable. “You too.”

I roll my shoulders back and walk past him toward the table in the conference room and sink into the seat between my sister and father. Molly had already gotten the cleaners to clean the spilt coffee on the floor. Devin takes the chair opposite me, his eyes on me the entire time. I avert my gaze to my father. “We can start.”

My father looks between Devin and me, clearly sensing the tension between us. I avoid looking at Devin throughout the meeting as much as possible and keep my eye contact with him to less than a few seconds at a time.

I can feel his gaze on me while I sat there, pretending to listen while my father spoke, all the while trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to work closely with him after everything. Why is he back? Why now, after almost ten years?

“Devin will fill the position for a year.”

I look at my father again. “A year?” I intone, and he nods. “And then what? He goes back to wherever he came from? Who will take over the position after he leaves?” I question, and my dad looks over at Devin, and they share a look.

“I’ll find someone proficient enough to replace me before I leave.” Devin voices and I turn my gaze to his and frown a little.

“Right,” I reply dryly and cross my arms over my chest. Devin’s eyes narrow a little while I glare at him.

“Mimi, as VP, you and Devin— will work closely with one another. There’s an up-and-coming author whose book is extraordinary, and I want her to sign, but she’s adamant she wants to self-publish. I need you both to work on getting her to sign with us. I want that book.”

I sigh and chew the inside of my cheek. Under the table, my foot was twitching restlessly. I feel Ayla’s elbow digging into my side and turn my gaze to look at her.

“I almost dropped dead when daddy said that was Devin. Like seriously?” Ayla whispers to me, and I roll my eyes. “Whose face is that well chiselled. He looks like he just stepped out of a magazine. If ever there was a man carved by angels, it’s that specimen right there.”

“Oh my God, Ayla, shut up.” I hiss through gritted teeth, my face aflame. While he talks with my dad, I let my eyes rake over his face. I mean, she wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t want to think about how perfect his stupid face is. I’m furious with him, and I have no way of venting this anger inside of me without showing him how much he hurt me when he left—which will not happen.

The meeting finally ends, and I hurriedly get up to my feet and walk out of the conference room as quickly as my legs would take me. Molly already had another coffee ready for me and followed me toward my office. “You have a conference call in two minutes.”

“Push it back,” I utter and walk into my office, push the door shut behind me and lean against it. I still couldn’t believe it. Devin was back. Just like that, he just pops back into my life after he took off without a damn word.

Ahh, I want to scream.

“It’s good to see you…” I mutter bitterly. “Is it Dev? Is it good because I can think of a million different words to better describe how it felt to see you, and none of them is good?” I rake my fingers through my hair and bite down on my lip. Maybe I can pretend I’m not feeling well and go hide under my duvet until he leaves again.

“No, I will not hide. Screw him.” I huff and pace back and forth. A knock on my door stops me short, mid-pace. I look up when the door opens, and the man himself walks in.

Oh shit. You got this, Mira. Stay calm and be cool. Like he doesn’t even matter. You've got this.

“Tinks,” My stomach tightens at the nickname, but I keep my face stoic while he walks in and closes the door behind him. “Do you have a minute?”

I clear my throat and force myself to nod. “Sure. What can I do for you?”

Devin’s brows fuse a little, and he smiles. “Well, I thought we could get reacquainted and catch up. Considering we’ll be working closely together moving forward.”

I blink and, for a long moment, just stare at him. “Reacquainted?” I repeat, and he nods, staring at me, the corners of his eyes squinting.

“Yes, it’s what people who haven’t seen each other in a while do after they meet again—get reacquainted.”

I scowl, “I know what reacquainted means, Devin.” The corner of his lips twitch a little, and he rubs his forehead like he’s trying to fight off the urge to smile. “I’m just not sure what you were expecting bolling in here, after almost ten years. A hug?”

Devin takes a step toward me and rubs his jaw, “I mean, I wouldn’t say no.”

I scowl and cross my arms over my chest. “I would.”

“Tinks.”

“Stop calling me that. It’s Mira.” I snap irritably. Devin wets his lips and shakes his head as he takes another step toward me.

“Not to me,” He answers evenly. “To me, you’ll always be Tinks.” I lift my gaze to him when he towers over my five-foot-five frame. “And to you, I’ll always be Dev.”

“We’re not kids anymore, Devin,” I reply stiffly, making sure to put more emphasis on his name. “What made you suddenly decide to come back after such a long time?”

Devin stuffs his hands in his trousers’ pockets to the designer, custom-made navy suit he’s wearing. I’m not even going to get into how freaking good he looks in a suit. “I didn’t. My dad asked me to.”

“Why didn’t he come himself?”

“Do you want to grab a coffee?” I stare up at him, a little taken aback by his sudden request.

“I already have coffee.” I point to my cup sitting on my desk, and his eyes follow my finger, and he does that lopsided lazy grin he used to do when he was trying to convince me to do something.

“How about lunch?”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “I’m on a diet.”

Devin’s eyes rake over me and he frowns. “Are you trying to disappear? You don’t need to diet.” I wrinkle my nose at him, and he smiles.

“I decide what I need. Besides, I have meetings and conference calls all afternoon, so I’m going to skip lunch.”

“Tinks, what’s with the pushback? If I didn’t know you any better, I’d think you’re not happy to see me?”

I rake my fingers through my hair in frustration. “Should I be?” My response throws him off, and he exhales slowly. “I’m not the same girl I was when you left, Devin. You knew her. You don’t know me, just like I don’t know you anymore. A lot can change in a decade.”

Devin’s eyes search mine, and he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. “Fair enough.” We hold each other's gaze for a beat before he nods curtly, turns and walks toward the door. “I’ll you see you about.” He utters as he opens the door and walks out.

 I release a long breath and close my eyes as soon as my door clicks shut. The audacity of him. Did he honestly expect me to just leap into his arms like nothing ever happened? Like no time has passed at all.

What’s the point in opening myself up to him again if he’s only going to leave? His life isn’t here anymore. His life is in Singapore, and I’ll be damned if I let him get close enough to devastate me again. I closed that door firmly and bolted it shut, and I have zero intention of opening it back up again.

My head and especially my heart is a no Devin King zone, and that’s how it will remain.