“They just left, Sir. Unscathed.”“Those men aren’t stupid,” he gritted out. “Get in. Disarm them. I’m a minute away.”“Want us to drill them, Sir?”“No. I want to know who really sent them, and they’ll only tell you the first name that comes to their lips. They see me, they’ll know better than to bullshit.”“’kay, Sir. On it.”Josh hung up and glanced out the window just in time to see Dalia's convertible zing past his Bentley in the opposite direction. His heart constricted. She was driving.Even as the car shot by, he noticed the black circles under her eyes and how unhealthily pale she was. When it came to her, all his senses were sharp. She was that important to him.That she even had to spend time in a stinking jail cell made him hotheaded. He’d warned her about Devon, but he guess he should’ve warned her about her own best friends, too.A few weeks back, he’d gotten wind of plans to clip Michael’s wings. The fool had painted a bull’s-eye on his forehead when he bragged to the
No surprise Devon’s high gates were wide open when Josh rolled the car through them and parked up next to a slick black Corvette belonging to his buddy. His second team was overseen by his friend, Darren. A team rarely called on, but with much on hand tonight, both teams were on duty.Darren no doubt already had Devon just the way he wanted him: cowering.As he slipped from the car, he had to shake his head at the gushing fountains and marble-tiled pillars of Devon’s Mediterranean-designed house, knowing this posh lifestyle came from the suffering, blood-shedding and soul-stealing of innocent people. There was really no need for him to make this visit to Devon; he could’ve just let Darren take care of it. But he wanted Devon to see exactly who was about to haul him off his high horse.Just before he reached the door, Darren, dressed in a sharp gray suit with his thick auburn hair gelled back in a side-part style, swung it open, grinning. He bumped his best friend’s shoulder, slapping
Nelly careened his Chrysler 300 onto 3rd Street, cruising to a slow stop at her gate, while dialing her number on his cell with one hand.“Outside,” he said when her soft, virginal voice answered.Buju Banton’s rugged voice chanted Make My Day through the car speakers, but he quickly ejected his favorite reggae artist and switched to Pink instead. He didn’t exactly care for the freakish, pink-haired girl’s music, but she loved her music, and that was all that mattered.He looked at her shabby, grassless, gardenless yard. The small, crooked bungalow seemed it hadn’t been painted in over a decade, because if he could tell what color that house really was, he’d be lying. Broken chunks of stones led up to the rickety porch, and only about three of the wooden steps seemed safe enough to walk on—he noticed she always hopped over them whenever she was leaving the house.That decrepit building, it gutted him. But what could he do while she was still seventeen? Her eighteenth birthday couldn’
Nelly sprawled shirtless on the gray L-shaped sofa in his rented flat as he watched Scarface on the flat-screen television—well, actually, he was pretending to watch the television. On the real, he was surreptitiously watching Dalia as she puttered about in the kitchen, balancing a cookbook in one hand as she tried to bake him a cake.She had no idea what she was doing, and when he offered to help, she shooed him away. His fiery little girlfriend was hell-bent on getting that cake baked. And he was enjoying watching her make a flustered mess of herself.When he’d picked her up earlier, his plan was to grab something to eat, take her shopping on Robertson Boulevard and then see a movie. Of course, her choice of food was pepperoni pizza—she was a pizza maniac. But as soon as they’d finished at the pizzeria she began whining that it was his birthday and it wasn’t right to do things for her on his day. She wanted to do something for him, like bake a cake.At first he’d been upset and trie
I woke up.I’ve been doing that a lot. Waking up. From sleep, from dreams, from fairytales, from illusions, to reality.And all I wanted to do was go back to sleep. Shut out everything.Headache. I groaned at the sledgehammer pounding in my head.It was morning. And I was in my bedroom, safe and sound, Julia sprawled next to me, deep asleep, white lines of dried saliva on her cheek.The hammering in my head grew more and more severe, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut, riding it out. I needed aspirins. Preferably the PM ones that’ll send me right back to sleep.Sluggishly, I got out of bed and zombie-walked out to the living area.Two heads swung around and four eyes looked at me."Oh, thank goodness, you’re awake," Jane said, letting out a relieved sigh. She was in Hello Kitty pajamas, cradling a large, black mug.Her older brother, Tommy, was sitting next to her on the couch, looking equally worried.Tommy was a nice hunk of a guy. Tall, dark and handsome; the typical. And he was on
I flipped my cellphone over and over in my palm, inhaling the salty sea breeze caressing as I took in the breathtaking marina view from the balcony of Julia's apartment at Esprit. Queues of yachts and boats gently rocked to and fro on the blue waves.It was amazing here. I was yet to tell Julia that the apartment directly across from hers was mine, bought as a gift by a certain blue-eyed billionaire. I didn’t want it, and Julia would only try coaxing me into taking it, because, well, I’d be right across the hall from her. Her dream come true.Deciding to spend the rest of my weekend with Julia so I could focus on designing a few more pieces for the bidding on Monday, I'd packed up my implements and fled my apartment to get away from the inquisitive Jane and her relentless brother. Nevertheless, the change of venue didn’t help with my concentration, because my independent mind kept wandering off to thoughts of Josh. And with each thought, a part of me hurt. It made no sense to fight t
The strong scent of Folgers coffee wafted under my nostrils. Smelled heavenly enough to get me to open my eyes. Julia was standing over me, passing a mug of coffee back and forth under my nose.Sharp pain lanced up my spine when I tried to sit up, realizing that I’d fallen asleep at the working table."Good morning. No way your back’s not hurting," Julia said. "Here. Drink some coffee."I stretched like a cat before taking the mug she offered. "Thanks. You're the best. I swear, if we didn't have the same body parts, I'd marry you."She snickered. "This looks like a lot of work. If only you'd let me help yo—""I don't have enough material for you to mess up anything here, Julia. I can't afford any wrong cuts and stitches.""I'm not that bad," she defended, pouting.With an arched brow, I brought the mug to my mouth and stared at her over the rim as I sipped.Julia burst into a laugh. "Okay, those times you were just teaching me. I'm much better now. I like how magical it is to create s
"Ninety-five thousand," countered the third bidder."One hundred and ten thousand," countered the fourth.My last piece—a neon-yellow Spring shorts with bright green belt loops and green, square front buttons—had spiked up a bidding war. I gave credits to the tall, blonde model who did it more justice than it deserved. All but three of my modeled pieces had been tendered on, making me four hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars richer.The bidding price for the Spring shorts was now at one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars, and all except one bidder were stroking their chins in deep contemplation.Being an exclusive show, there was just a small crowd of people apart from the five bidders, the eight fashion designers, including me, and the models. Nevertheless, everything was being executed like a real fashion show, with a huge white runway, blinding, flashing light and runway soundtracks.The models, make-up artists and everything else were provided. All the designers had to
We drove home from the dinner in painful silence.Josh hadn’t said a word to me since my tiff with his father. Was I in trouble for this bullshit? Would he leave me because I showed no respect to his father—his idol?The day was starting to wear on me.Easing into his garage, he parked, pulled up the handbrake, and turned to look at me. Expression was unrevealing.I braced myself for the imminent explosion. Strange that hours ago I'd stared down the one man he, Josh, was afraid of, yet I was intimidated by the son.Saying nothing, he just watched me, inexpressive.My eyes dropped to my fingers restlessly fiddling with the edges of my purse."Look at me, Dalia," he said. "You just stared down one of the most domineering men I've ever known. A man who has intimidated some of the world’s most powerfulbusinessmen to capitulate to his demands. And you can’t look at me?" I didn't look up at him when I quietly asked, "Are you mad at me?" Silence.When I risked a peek up at him, the apathy r
The great room was packed with Nelsons, as we all waited an annoyingly long time for the dinner to start. Like we were at the White House waiting for the President’s arrival or something.Centuries later, a wiry middle-aged butler emerged through a set of double doors on the right. Holding a wand that seemed much too heavy for his proportion, he lifted it high before slicing it through the air and hitting it against a huge gold gong I hadn't noticed was there. The blow elicited a loud, grating bang, ceasing all chattering and yanking everyone's attention."Good evening, everyone," he said resoundingly. "Dinner is served." He stepped aside and gestured to double doors that were immediately pulled open by another pair of butlers. All the Nelsons formed a single file line and walked through the doors.I folded my lips and followed, trying with tenuous control to not collapse into a fit of laughter at this family's over-the-top absurdities. A small giggle managed to escape and Josh glance
Taking me by surprise, Melinda leaned over and clasped my hand. "Do you really love him? Men change, you know. They can change so suddenly that—""Of course she doesn't," said a voice behind me, which I now recognized as Princess’s. "She has a gold eye, and Brother's a fool for thinking she actually loves him.""Princess," Melinda warned with an irritated wave. "Ignore her," she whispered conspiratorially. "Nothing annoys her more."I plastered a smile on my face. "It's okay. I'm used to antagonism. Where’s your powder room?""Left.” She gave me an apologetic smile. "At the very end of the hall." Grateful to get away, I thanked her and took off.There were paintings of each family member along the hall walls. How much more archaic could this family get?As I sidled down the dragging hall, I heard harsh yelling coming from behind one of the doors on the right, which was left ajar, and I edged closer to eavesdrop."...and my last words to you Henry: 'punishment is made for mockers and t
The ride to the Nelson estate was long, but the green scenery made up for it. I hadn’t realize I’d been slouching with my face glued out the window until Josh pulled up outside a stately, wrought-iron gate and numbered the security monitor on a red-bricked column.We drove through the gates and down a narrow road, passing tall, flourishing trees. Between the intermittent spacing of the trees, I could see acres of verdant land rolling on and on.Two minutes of driving and the house was still out of view. One more minute of driving and we were outside another baronial gate. Again he numbered the security monitor and drove us through."All that land behind us belongs to your father?""Yep.""Are we gonna get to the house anytime this year?"He chuckled. “We’re here."We drove along a sinuous path lined with towering palm trees until the palatial house came into view. An imposing, three story, white mansion with immense carved columns, French windows and doors. Put simply, the place was i
We arrive in San Francisco late Saturday evening.Huge was too small of a word to describe Josh’s all-glass home. Aesthetically decorated with white furniture and elaborate pieces of art, I didn’t know where to look first.From any room, kitchen, living room, bathroom, bedroom, I could see the city lights twinkling all around because the pad was all-glass.I’d grumbled a bit about privacy, but when I stepped outside the long-lipped wraparound balcony, I realized the glass was one-way. Nothing could be seen from the outside looking in. Strewn about were white leather lounge chairs and tall decorative plants."You like?" I spun around and found Josh at the sliding glass doors which led out to the balcony. Shirt, shoes and socks all gone. Top button his jeans undone, flashing me a peek at his gray boxers."Y-yes," I rasped, totally, completely affected by the delicious sight of him."It's...huge.""Good. Because I had it redecorated, hoping you’d like it."A stumpy, bald guy dressed in
When I next allowed myself to open my eyes, night had fallen, and strong arms were around me. They weren’t Julia’s. They were arms I didn’t want to embrace me, to give me solace from a grief said arms could’ve prevented. Julia was nowhere in sight. Launching up in a sitting position, I called out for her. She needed me like I needed her. I couldn’t allow her to mourn alone. She had no idea what grief could do to her. She wouldn’t know how to deal with it. “Julia!” I called out again, but my voice was so hoarse I could hardly hear myself. Josh’s hard frame was right there behind me, his big, masculine arms trying to ease me back down to the carpet. “Dalia, calm down. Julia left.” Anger surged through me as I twisted around to glare at him. He was shirtless and look a tad weary. I tried not to let his nakedness distract me. “How could you let her leave? Are you that goddamn insensitive?” Though I wanted it to sound like a shout, I failed, because I almost had no voice, my throat
"Will you be at the family dinner, too?"My question was directed to the svelte, brown-eyed Lori who was trying to stuff me into a lime-green gown as we made a mess of Josh’s apartment. I liked her, because she wasn't uppity. Neither did she bombard me with questions or try to pry into her cousin's privacy.Julia, who popped in an hour ago with the intention of us going shopping, believing Lori wouldn’t have anything I’d like, was rummaging sparkly-eyed through Lori’s racks. She had no upcoming functions that required formal wear, yet she’d set aside four gowns she decided she had to have. I, on the other hand, had yet to find a gown I liked."God, no!" Lori shrieked, a horrified expression on her face. "I can't stand UncleNelson.""Is he that bad?""Yes." She added a slow nod to emphasize. "But it's not just him. It's the whole setting and requirements for the dinner. I mean, the whole purpose is to have dinner and catch up with family. I don't see why all the formality is needed, g
Josh was watching me sleep.I was in limbo between sleep and wake, but I still could feel his eyes on me. And I was right. When I chose to be awake instead of asleep, there those blue eyes were, fixed on me.On his side. Hands tucked under his cheek. Unkempt hair, stubble shadowing his squared jaw, and still he looked as glorious as ever. A ray of sun sneaking through the blinds laced across his features. No one should be allowed to look this damn good in the morning.His lips curved up. "Hi."Turning on my side, I mirrored his actions—though I was pretty sure I didn't look half as good as he did at the moment. "You’re giving me the Edward, watching me sleep."“Think I’m creepy?”“Nope. I think it’s sexy.”He made a face. “Okay, that just…doesn’t…sound right.”A giggle escaped as I stretched. "Whatever. You’re sexy. Deal with it.”He edged closer to me but didn't touch me. Just the heat of our bodies mingled. "You have any idea how happy I am right now? To have you back in my life. Yo
There's only darkness and the almost imperceptible humming of the air conditioner. I opened my eyes, stretched; a smile creeping across my face when I realized I was in Josh's bed.Josh wasn’t there, though.Glancing over at the bedside clock I saw it was long after midnight. My smile melted as my heart pounded loud in my ears. Déjá vu attacked me.Scrambling out of bed, I yanked off the sheet and draped it around me then rushed into the bathroom. He wasn't there.I darted out onto the balcony. Not there. Trying not to trip over the bunched-up sheet, I sprinted downstairs.My heart sagged in relief.Josh in the living area, humming to the sound of Morgan Heritage’s She’s Still Loving Me playing softly over the integrated speakers, while cleaning up shards of the vase he'd broken earlier.As if sensing me, he abruptly glanced up and smiled. But that smile quickly morphed into a frown. "Dalia, what's wrong?" he asked, concern in his voice. "Shit, you don't want to leave, do you? Stay.