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The Fidelity World

ENVY

A.D. JUSTICE

TABLE OF CONTENTS

TITLE PAGE

SYNOPSIS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

SYNOPSIS

Though I denied it, envy ruled most of my life.

I was always the outsider among people born to privilege.

Envy made me despise them, the Montague Manor elitists.

Until I fell in love with one of them.

Wyatt Spencer Weston changed my life.

He changed me for the better, at first.

Until his inconceivable betrayal nearly destroyed me.

He recently took control of his family’s business and the vast wealth that comes with it.

I’ve waited years for this day to arrive.

Envy used to rule me. Now a driving need for revenge does.

Wyatt will soon learn a valuable lesson in envy.

When you have everything, you have more to lose.

CHAPTER ONE

THE PAST

T he familiar feeling settled in my chest before traveling down to my stomach as I watched them. Them—the popular clique whose last name would open doors others were forbidden to enter. The fortunate people who created the division between the haves and the haves not by simply existing. The ones who seemed to have a perpetual pass when it came to following the rules. They were above the law, we were beneath it, and both sides instinctively knew it without having to be told. Though anyone whose last name held any relation to Montague, Fitzgerald, Carmichael, or Spencer had no problem reminding those of us who didn’t.

“Megan, stop staring at him before they see you,” my best friend, Christine, whisper-shouted at me.

“Let them see me. I don’t care.”

“You know they’ll start their shit again if you draw their attention. They’re not worth the hassle.” Christine grabbed my elbow and pulled me toward her car. “Besides, if you get into another fight with Blair Weston, you’ll get expelled. Then you’ll lose that full-ride scholarship to Harvard you’re applying for next month.”

“You’re right. They’re not worth it. I’m getting away from this place and everyone remotely related to Montague Manor.” I slid into the passenger side of her Altima. My treacherous eyes drifted back to Wyatt Spencer Weston, the twin brother of my arch nemesis. The very handsome brother of the snobbiest bitch in my high school.

Wyatt Weston. With his blond hair, blue eyes, and perfect athletic build, he was the epitome of good breeding. Tall and muscular, he played every major sport and excelled at all of them. Football quarterback. Basketball captain. Baseball pitcher. Ask any girl at Ridgeview High who her dream boyfriend would be, and she’d say Wyatt Weston without a doubt.

When I was a little kid, I never understood why my family discouraged me from wanting to see inside the old plantation-style manor. It was the most beautiful mansion anyone in my small world had ever seen. But when I’d beg to go to work with my mom just so I could see for myself if the interior matched my imagination, she’d harshly admonish me and order me never to wish for that again.

But by the time I was old enough to start school, the blue bloods of Savannah had effectively put me in my place. I never again questioned my mother about visiting the mansion. As the lowly daughter and granddaughter of Montague Manor servants, my future was no brighter than what my parents and grandparents had endured. I was expected to follow in their footsteps and be an invisible servant to cater to the already spoiled upper class.

I supposed any small town had similar problems. There were the chosen few who were held in higher esteem, and those whose last name would forever damn them to the dregs of society. Perhaps it only seemed more pronounced to me in our coastal city of Savannah, Georgia, but that perception was all I had while growing up. Perception is reality, they say. It most definitely was my perception, my reality, and my prison cell.

Blair Weston thought she was personally responsible for the keys to my cell and frequently jangled them in my face. Especially when her friends were around to watch my humiliation for sport. She’d make her snide remarks about my lack of designer clothes or how the cut, color, and style of my hair was “so last year,” then all her little groupies would join in with her obnoxious cackle. Living through that type of hell would push anyone to the limit.

I hit that limit at least four times a year over the last twelve years of being stuck in the same school system as her. When we were little, I’d wait to seek my revenge when we were on the playground. To the teachers, it appeared as if we were just playing. But Blair and I both knew the times she “tripped in her new expensive shoes” and bit the dust was courtesy of yours truly.

Finding satisfying opportunities for payback was harder the older we became. Recess was a thing of the past, and Blair wasn’t as clumsy. Still, there were times after gym class she’d find her new designer handbag soaked in the girls’ toilet. Or her math books and folders would mysteriously disappear from her locker, forcing her to redo her homework. When I learned our math teacher was from New York City and wasn’t impressed with the local pedigrees, I took full advantage of his zero-tolerance policy on missing homework.

While I was distracted, ruminating over my sordid history with Blair, Wyatt turned his head and caught me staring directly at him. Our gazes locked, and an invisible fetter connected us. His eyes widened in surprise, and one side of his full lips quirked upward. He quickly caught himself and stilled his smile. He tried to appear nonchalant when he glanced around at his cohorts in elitist crime, but I knew exactly what he was doing.

He was making sure they hadn’t caught him looking at me because he was embarrassed to admit he was attracted to me.

I shook my head in disgust and slid my shades over my eyes. Christine’s laughter drew my attention before she jerked the driver’s door open and slid into her seat. Her beautiful smile split her face in half, and I couldn’t help but smile in return, even though I had no idea why she was so happy.

“Oh. My. God. Can you believe that?” She bounced up and down in her seat, thrumming with excitement.

“Believe what?”

“Are you telling me you didn’t hear a word of what just happened outside this door?” Her jaw was slack, her brows were drawn down, and her eyes were wide with disbelief—at first. Then her eyes disappeared behind tiny slits, but I still felt her glare. She turned her head and followed the line of sight directly in front of me. “He’s still looking at you, Megan King. You’ve been staring at Wyatt Weston again. When will you ever learn?”

“Are you going to tell me what happened or do I have to make up my own version to tell everyone?”

“Jayce Ellison just asked me to go to the homecoming dance with him!”

We squealed together like the high school senior girls we were because Jayce Ellison was the best-looking guy at our school, second only to Wyatt. The best part was he had a winning personality and was genuinely a good guy. He moved to Savannah early in high school, long after the rest of the school had subscribed to the expected traditions and no longer questioned why certain families were better than others.

I threw my arms around her neck and hugged her to me. “I’m thrilled for you, Chris. You’ll have a great time with him.”

On the ride home, we made plans to go shopping together over the weekend to find her a dress to wear to the dance. Jayce was our best running back and the main reason everyone in our district turned out at the Friday night football games. Our winning streak was courtesy of his outstanding athletic abilities. Christine wanted to look especially beautiful when she walked into the dance on his arm.

She dropped me off with the promise to pick me up first thing in the morning for school, then we’d start combing the mall for the perfect outfit over the weekend. Mom was home early from work, which was never a good sign. The tension enveloped and suffocated me the moment I stepped inside our small home. She and my father sat at the table, holding hands and murmuring quietly to each other.

“Hey. What’s wrong? What happened?”

Dad stood and wrapped his arms around me. “It’s nothing, sweetheart. How was your day?”

“Come on, Dad. I’m the valedictorian, so I’m obviously not stupid. Tell me what’s going on.”

He sighed heavily and lowered his face toward the floor. “Your mother tried to talk them into letting me come back to work at the manor. She was sent home for three days without pay to think about where her allegiance lies…with their family or with ours.”

My father worked for that family for eleven years before they fired him two years ago. An expensive bottle of bourbon was missing from the liquor cabinet after one of their elaborate parties, and he was accused of pilfering it for himself. Anyone who has ever met my father knew he’d never steal from anyone. He wasn’t questioned. He wasn’t given an opportunity to defend himself. He was simply dismissed for theft, ensuring he wouldn’t qualify for unemployment. With limited skills and no reference from his employer of eleven years, he’d been hard pressed to find work since then.

Withholding three days’ pay from my mother was cruel punishment, but the uncertainty of having a job when she returned to the manor added a heavier weight on her shoulders. To add insult to injury, the question of loyalty wasn’t a rhetorical one. She would have to provide an answer when she returned. She was just as likely to be fired for pledging her allegiance to their family over her own, simply because they’d enjoy her humiliation.

Our little family was barely scraping by as it was. Seeing my mother hopeless and tearful at the small kitchen table only fanned the flames of my hatred toward those who made our lives unbearable. “That’s it. I’m going to get a job somewhere after school. I can be a cashier somewhere.”

“No.” My mother found her firm voice. “If you do that, you’ll mess up any chance you have of getting the scholarship you’ve worked so hard for. We’ll get by, Megan. Don’t worry about anything except your grades and academic clubs so you can get away from here.”

She stood and walked to me, her shoulders back and her head held high. Regardless of what she faced daily at work, she held onto her pride and dignity when she was away from that place and those awful people. She grasped my upper arms and smiled. “We’re so proud of you. Only one more month before you can apply to Harvard then we’ll celebrate when you get your early acceptance letter in December.”

“I hope you’re right. But I still hate thinking about leaving you and Daddy behind.”

“You won’t be leaving us behind, pumpkin. You’ll be moving yourself ahead of the pack. That’s all that matters to your mother and me.” My dad joined us, drawing us into his embrace. “If you’re happy, then we’re happy.”

In my bedroom, I emptied the contents of my book bag onto my bed and dove headfirst into my homework. My parents were right—my grades and test scores were my saving grace from this humdrum existence. If I wasn’t chosen during the early application process for college, the months of waiting until the spring decision was communicated would kill me. Slowly. Tortuously. I’d realized that I had to get away from my life at the end of middle school, with the help of my mom, and focused all my efforts on maintaining high grades and being involved with every academic club I could get into. Every extracurricular activity I included on my college application put me one step closer to my new life goal.

To make the popular crowd envy me rather than the other way around.

CHAPTER TWO

THE PAST

M y parents and I were watching a movie we’d seen a thousand times before. Cable was a luxury we couldn’t afford, so replaying old DVDs was our nightly entertainment. A knock on our door made us all stand at attention and look to each other for answers.

“I’ll get it,” I announced and walked to the door. “Who is it?”

“Wyatt Weston,” the male voice called back.

I froze in place, certain my ears had deceived me. There was no way Wyatt Weston had knocked on my door after nine o’clock at night.

“Megan, open the door,” my father pressed.

While gripping the knob tightly, I twisted it and pulled the door toward me. Standing there in his jeans that hugged his muscular legs and a T-shirt with our school name sprawled across his defined chest was the Wyatt Weston. He must be lost, I thought.

“What do you want?”

“Megan!” My mother appeared behind me. “Where are your manners? Hello, Wyatt. I’m Norma, Megan’s mother. Would you like to come in?”

“Umm…sure.” Wyatt glanced nervously at me, unsure if he should accept my mother’s invitation. I extended my arm and gestured for him to come in. Funny, he didn’t seem quite as sure of himself while standing in our run-down home. “Thank you, Mrs. King.”

“Of course. How can we help you?”

“Uh. I, uh. I actually stopped by to talk to Megan. I’m sorry I didn’t call before just showing up unannounced, but I don’t have Megan’s cell phone number.”

“Oh, well, that would be because I don’t have a cell phone to have a cell phone number.”

“Megan, why don’t you and Wyatt sit on the front porch swing and talk? You’ll have more privacy out there.” My mother furrowed her brows and slightly inclined her head toward the door, ordering me to walk outside with our guest.

“Okay, Mom. Come on, Wyatt. I’ll show you to the swing.”

“Good night, Mr. and Mrs. King. It was very nice to meet you.”

I closed the door behind us before they could reply. As it stood, I’d never hear the end of what a well-mannered young man Wyatt was. My mother would never know any different. Her heart would be broken if she knew how he shunned me at school because I wasn’t good enough to be part of his crowd. She’d blame herself, and she had too much on her already. She’d lost weight over the past several months, and the strain of my father’s unemployment took a toll on her health.

“Have a seat.” I sat on the swing first and turned toward Wyatt when he took the seat beside me. “Why are you here?”

“You’re not going to make this easy for me at all, huh?” His lopsided grin made my stomach turn somersaults, but I held onto my unaffected façade. The most popular and best-looking guy in school wasn’t without his share of willing conquests. I wasn’t about to be his next hookup.

With a sardonic laugh, I met his gaze full on. “Every other girl has made it easy for you, Wyatt. Not me, though. I’m immune to your charm.”

His smile fell, and he looked at me thoughtfully. “I believe you, but I’m here anyway. I’m here to,” he paused and took a deep breath. “I wanted to ask if you’ll go to the homecoming dance with me.”

In stunned silence, I waited for the punch line to his stupid joke. After several long and uncomfortable seconds of silence, I finally replied. “Are you kidding? Is this some kind of joke?”

“Not at all. I’m serious, Megan. I want to go out with you, get to know you, take you to the dance. What do you say?”

My lungs burned from holding my breath, but my body forgot how to breathe. The sincerity shone in his eyes, and I didn’t like the hope that attempted to bloom in my chest. For years, I’d carried a secret flame for Wyatt. While his family didn’t own Montague Manor, they were distantly related and thick as thieves when it came to business. Wyatt’s family millions started with commercial real estate development decades ago, passing down from generation to generation. Just as everyone expected me to join the servant rank, Wyatt was expected to join the business executive order and grow his family’s wealth even more.

I felt like a traitor wishing I could say yes to his offer. I felt like a hypocrite for feeling like a traitor. How long had I preached equality? Yet when the opportunity fell into my lap, I was hesitant to take it.

“Megan?”

“Okay, Wyatt. I’ll go to the dance with you.”

His smile lit up his face. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight, his relief palpable. “Great. I’m so glad you said yes.”

“Does your sister know you’re here?” I had to know the answer. She’d been the thorn in my side for years. If she knew of his plans to ask me, she’d make sure to rain on my parade every chance she got.

“No, I didn’t tell anyone because I wasn’t even sure I’d have the guts to show up. I wasn’t sure of anything until I knocked on your door and you answered.”

“Why do you want to go with me? I don’t think you’ve said more than a few words to me in the last twelve years of school together.”

“I’ve always admired you from afar. I got the feeling you didn’t like me much because of my sister. She can be a little hard to take sometimes.”

“That’s an understatement. I’ll make a deal with you. I won’t hold your sister’s behavior against you if you don’t act like her.”

“We have a deal then. Shake on it?”

He took my extended hand in his, turned my wrist, and brought my knuckles to his lips. He brushed soft kisses along my skin, stealing my breath again and cracking the veneer around my hardened heart one chip at a time. “I never knew you were such a romantic guy, Wyatt. What else are you hiding?”

“You’ll just have to find out.” He winked before kissing the back of my hand again. “I will confess to this…even though you may throw me off your porch for it.”

My left eyebrow slowly quirked upward, and my facial expression dared him to continue. “Now you have to tell me. You can’t say something like that and not finish it.”

“I don’t think you realize how much I’ve admired you from a distance. More than a couple of guys have made the mistake of talking about you around me. Saying they were going to ask you out, stuff like that. They weren’t right for you, though. So, I actively discouraged them from ever looking at you again if they didn’t want their eyes gouged from their heads with a straw.”

“You did not do that.”

“Scout’s honor. But, believe me, you’d thank me for it. They weren’t your type at all.”

“And just how do you know what my type is?”

“You want someone who is confident, but not cocky. Thoughtful, but not a pushover. Handsome, but not a strutting peacock. Smart, but also has common sense. But most of all, you want someone who sees you for who you really are.”

My resolve to remain unaffected by him decreased to nil. “Wow,” I replied with a breathy whisper. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or leery after that confession. For tonight, I’m going to choose flattered and hope for the best.”

“You won’t be disappointed. I guarantee it.” He stood, and I rose with him. “I should get going. It was rude of me to just show up, but now I’m keeping you up late. I’d love to text you some time, but you didn’t seem to be joking about not having a cell phone.”

“No, I don’t have one. But you can call me on our home phone. The talent of live conversation is a dying art. Maybe we can revive it.” I shrugged casually, trying to take the focus off my lack of money and material things.

“Retro is so in style right now,” he joked. He saved my number in his cell phone and turned to leave. One step down off my front porch, he turned to face me again. He was only slightly taller than me then, and I couldn’t help but notice how close his lips were to mine. “Good night, gorgeous. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He leaned in and captured my mouth. His soft lips pressed against mine. His tongue lightly grazed the seam of my lips, and my surprised reaction gave him full access to invade as he pleased. Our tongues performed an erotic dance, gliding and caressing, building the tension between us. His fingers threaded through my long blonde hair, gripping it in his fist when he tilted my head to the side for deeper access. His other hand lightly grazed along the sensitive skin of my neck, sending chills pebbling across my skin.

He slowed the pace and expertly ended the kiss, leaving me in a dizzy trance. “If I don’t stop now, we’ll be out here on your front porch all night,” he whispered. “Now I really wish I hadn’t waited so long to knock on your door.”

“How long were you waiting?” I pictured him standing outside my house before sunset, staring at my front door while he made up his mind.

“About twelve years, Megan. I’ve waited twelve long years for this.”

After a quick peck on the cheek goodbye, he bounced down the remaining steps and strolled to his car. He drove away with a wave and a smile, and I stood rooted to my spot until his taillights disappeared.

The next morning at school, Wyatt surprised me by opening the passenger door of Christine’s car and helped me as I got out. Then he took my hand in his, and we walked into the school together. Heads turned and mouths gaped open as his astonished friends eyed us, but no one made a single comment.

Except for Blair, of course.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“Shut up, Blair,” Wyatt reprimanded her as we passed. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll talk to her.”

“It probably won’t help. She has always hated me.”

“It’ll help—I promise.”

Wyatt was outside the door waiting for me after every class. No doubt he charmed his teachers and got his way with whatever he wanted. He was part of the legendary family everyone bowed to, so why wouldn’t that extend to his classes too?

In the two weeks before the homecoming dance, he never failed to show his sweet and romantic side. He met me in the parking lot every morning, walked me to every class, drove me home from school several times, and came over to my house to spend time with me at night. Not developing feelings for him was impossible. For the first time since I was six, I dared to hope for a happy life in this little corner of our city. Even Christine rooted for us.

During those two weeks, Christine and I spent every spare minute we weren’t with Jayce and Wyatt combing the mall for affordable dresses for the dance. My mom somehow scraped together $100 for me to splurge on an outfit and shoes, though she never told me where the extra money came from.

The night of the dance, my nerves were on hyper-drive. Mom helped with my makeup because my hands shook so much.

“Calm down, Megan. It’s just a school dance, and he’s just a boy. Have fun and don’t stress over it.” Her voice was calm and reassuring, helping to soothe my anxiety.

Until Wyatt knocked on the door.

When I opened it, I was surprised to find Christine and Jayce standing there with him. The black stretch limo behind him stood out like a sore thumb on my street lined with aging cookie-cutter clapboard houses.

“Come in, all of you.” I stepped back and gave them room to pass.

“Jayce and I thought you two ladies would appreciate some company during the game while we’re on the field, so we arranged a double date. I hope you don’t mind.” Wyatt produced a beautiful corsage with pale lavender and pink roses that matched my dress perfectly. He slipped the band around my wrist and pulled the back of my hand to his lips.

“It’s gorgeous, Wyatt. Thank you so much.” I couldn’t stop staring at it. Such a small thing touched me more than I’d have ever thought it could. My mom stepped up beside me and held out a small, plastic container.

She always thought of everything.

I removed the boutonniere from its package and stepped closer to Wyatt to pin it on his lapel. “Thank you.” He spoke low and intimately, meant for only my ears to hear.

He looked up at my mom and dad, who’d joined the crowd when I was distracted, and smiled warmly. “Mr. and Mrs. King, what time should I have Megan home tonight?”

“Midnight, and not a minute after,” my dad replied with a smile. He was just happy to be able to say those words at least once before I left for college. My dating life had been non-existent before Wyatt’s invitation.

“You have my word, sir.” Wyatt extended his arm to shake my father’s hand, sealing his promise.

The ride in the limo was amazing—something I’d obviously never experienced before and didn’t expect to again. Wyatt and Jayce were funny and affectionate on the way to the high school, but I could tell Jayce wasn’t accustomed to that level of wealth any more than I was. When we arrived at the school, the driver opened the back doors for us to exit and Christine and I took our seats in the stands while the guys joined the rest of the team in the field house.

After the homecoming queen was named and the game was won, Wyatt motioned for me to meet him at the gate to the field.

“I need to shower and change back into my dress clothes. Give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you just inside the front doors, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll be there, waiting for you.”

“Don’t let anyone else take you away from me. You’re so beautiful—all these guys are already panting for you. I had to threaten a few of them with severe bodily harm during the game.” He flashed his cocky smile, but I saw a twinge of doubt cloud his eyes for just a moment.

“Not a chance, Wyatt. If they even said anything, I’m sure they were just riling you up for the game. They’re no competition for you anyway.”

He leaned toward me and pressed a lingering kiss to my lips. Butterfly flutters filled my stomach, rising in my throat as they threatened to take flight. “I won’t be long.”

There had been three other homecoming dances during the time I attended that high school, but I’d never gone since I was never asked to a single one of them. My coping mechanism activated, telling me it was a stupid tradition handed down by people who longed to reclaim their youth. Forcing the dance on younger generations was their way of living vicariously through us, so I hadn’t missed anything by not going stag.

Dancing in Wyatt’s embrace that night made me regret the time I’d lost during the first three years of high school. The after-game dances, the pageantry of homecoming, and the formality of prom. He held me in his arms, even during the fast songs, and we danced to our own beat of the drum. We were more in tune and in step with each other with each passing minute.

I swallowed the panic that tried to overtake the best time of my life. Prom. Just the thought of it almost sent me into a tailspin. Not because I didn’t want to go with Wyatt, but because I did want it. We were only in October, much too soon to talk about a formal event that wouldn’t happen until mid-April. Six months away.

In the short two weeks I’d been seeing Wyatt, I’d already become attached to him even if I didn’t show it outwardly. After experiencing the attention and affection he’d lavished on me, and how good it made me feel that he went out of his way to talk to me in person or on my home phone, I didn’t want to give it up. To an attention-starved seventeen-year-old girl, Wyatt Weston was a dream come true.

“You two sure seem cozy. Maybe you should get a room so the rest of us don’t have to watch.” One of Wyatt’s football buddies, Billy, stuck his face into what little space was left open between us as we slow danced. He cut his eyes at me and licked his lips, attempting to look provocative but only pulled off sleazy. “On second thought, don’t get a room. I’d love to watch you any day, Megan.”

Wyatt moved with such speed and ferocity I couldn’t comprehend what had happened, until a group of people had ascended on top of him, pulling Wyatt up from the floor. Billy was still flat on his back with blood smeared across his face. His eye was already starting to swell shut, and his skin had dark red splotches all over. I cut my eyes to Wyatt and was equally shocked at his appearance, but for a very different reason.

His face was beet red from anger. His hands were still balled into fists, and his knuckles were covered with blood. He was still yelling at Billy, though I don’t think Billy could hear Wyatt’s words.

“Don’t you ever fucking talk about her like that again! I’m not finished with you, Brown. Your ass is mine when these guys aren’t around to save you!”

Several of Wyatt’s friends blocked his access to Billy, pushing Wyatt back into the proverbial neutral corner. Only a few seconds had passed, but I felt like I suddenly snapped out of a long trance when I finally rushed to Wyatt’s side.

“Are you okay? Your hands are bleeding!” I grabbed his hands to inspect the injuries.

He immediately relaxed under my touch. “That’s not my blood, gorgeous. That’s Billy’s, and there will be more of it when I catch him alone. No one will talk about you like that when I’m around. And if another motherfucker makes the mistake of doing it to my face, it’ll be the last fucking thing he does.”

I knew the death threats against other guys was an exaggeration induced by his anger, but his protectiveness over me made me feel special, and wanted, and needed. He made me feel important with his every action. Though it was an odd moment to realize it, amid that chaos it hit me that Blair hadn’t made one snide remark to me since that first day when Wyatt assured me he’d talk to her.

Teachers rushed over to take control of the situation but backed down when they realized who was involved in the ruckus. One of the coaches took the lead. “That’s enough, boys. Another outburst like that from either of you, and you’ll be kicked out of the dance and expelled from school. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Wyatt replied.

Billy was still on the floor but had finally sat up. “Yes, sir,” he said and glanced at Wyatt. “It was all my fault, Coach. Don’t blame Wyatt.”

“You’ll get to do extra burpees at practice Monday, Brown.” Coach Patterson cut his eyes between Wyatt and Billy again. “I don’t want to see you two anywhere near each other the rest of the night. If one of you needs to piss and the other is in the bathroom, hold it. You get me?”

“There won’t be any more trouble, Coach. I’m leaving now anyway,” Billy replied as he stood. The crowd watched his back as he walked away, and Coach yelled for everyone to get back to dancing before he sent everyone home early.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up.” I looked up at Wyatt and tilted my head toward the restrooms. “You owe me a few more dances, but I don’t want Billy Brown’s blood on my dress.”

Wyatt laughed, and that was the end of the tension. He followed me into the girls’ bathroom to scrub his hands. Repeatedly. With scorching hot water…or, as hot as the school would allow. After several rinse and repeats, he followed up with the hand sanitizer before turning to me.

“Good enough?”

“Since asking you to get a skin graft to avoid any of Billy Brown’s bodily fluids is a bit extreme, I suppose I’ll have to settle for this,” I joked.

He pulled me into his arms, his lips curled into a seductive smile, and his eyes sparkled with playful mischief. “I know how to make you forget all about him.”

Before I could reply, his lips were on mine. Then his tongue slid against mine, taking control of my mouth and my senses at the same time. With a gentle push, he walked me backward until my back bumped into the wall. The front of his body pressed against mine, all hard planes and muscles under soft skin. The masculine scent of his cologne was heady, adding to my carnal intoxication.

He broke our kiss but kept his forehead against mine, our lips a mere breath apart. “I’ve never known anyone like you before, Megan. You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Me?” I whispered, floored by his words. “You just beat up a guy because of what he said to me. You’re one of a kind.”

He shook his head slightly. “There’s nothing special about me. But everything is special about you, Megan. I know it’s soon, but there’s something I want to ask you. My plan was much more elaborate than the girls’ bathroom, but I don’t want to wait any longer.”

“Ask me what?”

“Will you be my girlfriend? My steady girlfriend?”

Could my life really change so much in two short weeks? Did the impossible become possible in such a short time? Was there even a chance in hell I would say no to him?

“Yes, of course, I will.”

He pulled a silver ball chain necklace from his pocket with his class ring already affixed to it. He clasped it around my neck and softly kissed me. “You’re my girl, now. I’ll update my status, and we’ll be Facebook official.”

A carefree laugh broke free from my throat, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I don’t have a Facebook account, Wyatt. But that doesn’t make me any less your girl.”

“Not that I don’t love talking to you every night until you fall asleep on the phone, but we really have to bring you into this century soon.”

CHAPTER THREE

THE PAST

D ays turned to weeks then to months, and my feelings for Wyatt continued to deepen. We grew closer as friends and semi-lovers. I was still innocent and not ready to change that fact. Wyatt was understanding and patient, saying he’d wait however long I needed to feel comfortable. Though we were anything but comfortable after a heated make out session in the backseat of his car. It was nothing short of a miracle I didn’t give in on several occasions.

Talking about our future brought more discomfort. I’d never had to consider what it would feel like to leave someone behind before Wyatt. My parents always encouraged me to break free from the only life we’d ever known. I still didn’t want to stay, but I also didn’t want to be without him when I went off to college. He sat with me when I completed the early application to Harvard, a gloomy shadow covered his handsome face.

“Talk to me, Wyatt. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking…there’s no way you won’t get accepted. You’re the top of our class, even with advanced placement classes. Your ACT scores are off the charts. I’m thinking…I’m so proud of you and all you’ve accomplished. And, I’m thinking…I’ll lose you to some other guy the second you step on campus.”

Even with my assurances there wasn’t a possibility anyone could take his place, he didn’t seem convinced. Wyatt had never shown his insecure side before. He seemed invincible when around his friends, so seeing his vulnerable side signaled another change in our relationship. I encouraged him to apply and go with me, but he said his college decision had been made for him the day he was born.

“What plans?”

“My dad has already arranged for me to attend his alma mater. It’s a tradition in our family, so it’s not something I can get out of. I’ll go to college then eventually take over the family business.” His tone was so blasé as if he were reading a stranger’s obituary from the newspaper.

“Is that what you want to do?”

“No, not at all.”

“What do you want, Wyatt? You’ve never talked about what you want to be or where you want to go to school.”

“If I had a say, you mean? I’d major in Computer Engineering. The future is all computer-based. Faster, smarter, and more innovative. I have absolutely zero desire for anything to do with commercial real estate.”

“There’s no way to talk to your father about it? To tell him what you want to do with the rest of your own life? To convince him an Ivy League school would look great on your resume?”

“No, gorgeous. Believe me, I’ve tried. We’ve had knock-down-drag-out fights about it, but Dad won’t budge. I’m stuck close to home for the rest of my life.”

“How do you feel about long-distance relationships and weekend visits over the next four years?” I had to try something. I didn’t want to lose him, but I also couldn’t give up what I’d worked years to attain.

“For you? Absolutely. Whatever it takes to keep you.” The sincerity in his whisper was undeniable. The affection in his kiss was unmistakable.

“That’s enough, you two.” The school librarian chastised us with her stern, motherly voice, interrupting our tender moment.

December rolled around, and I received the decision letter from Harvard. I couldn’t bear to open it. What if I wasn’t accepted? What if I was? Wyatt was very supportive and took the envelope from my hand. His smile lit his gorgeous face and pride shone in his eyes.

“I am delighted to inform you…” He began reading the letter, but after those first few words, I didn’t hear the rest. I flew into his arms, and he wrapped me in a bear hug, pulling me off the floor as he spun me around. “Congratulations, gorgeous. You did it. You got a full scholarship to Harvard.”

My parents heard my screams and rushed to my bedroom door, confused expressions shrouded their faces as they tried to decipher what my tears and smile meant. Wyatt handed the letter to my mom and stepped to my side, his arm still around my waist. I wiped the tears from my cheeks then snuggled in closer to his side.

“How often can you visit me in Cambridge, Massachusetts?” I asked them.

Mom stared at the letter, trying to force the jumble of letters to make sense through her own tears. My dad read over her shoulder, his jaw was slack and his eyes were scanning the lines as he read along.

“Megan, we’re so proud of you.” Mom pulled me into her arms, and Dad joined from the other side. “You’ve worked for this all your life. You did it, my girl.”

That night, Wyatt and I agreed we’d make the most of our time together before I left for college the next fall. We had nine months before classes started, and a lot could happen in that time. Inside, I hoped Wyatt would defy his father’s plan for his son to attend his alma mater, but I couldn’t bring myself to voice that. If I caused a rift in his family, I’d never forgive myself.

Two weeks later, Wyatt and I exchanged Christmas gifts. With my scholarship secured, I reasoned I could afford to withdraw money from my account to buy his gifts. I’d saved every dime I’d made from babysitting and tutoring over the years. I’d vowed not to use any of that money so I’d always have an emergency stash. But he was special to me, and I wanted him to know.

When he opened his gift, he stared at it for several long seconds before saying anything. He lifted the two-piece silver key chain from the box and read the inscription on the front. One piece was a heart with “I love” engraved on the front. The second piece was an arrow that fit into the notched-out portion of the heart. The tip of the arrow was a hollow heart. The engraving on the arrow read “You.” On the back of the heart, I had my name etched into the metal, and the back of the arrow had his.

He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me to him. His lips hovered over mine as he said, “I love you too, Megan.” After a heated kiss, he separated the two pieces and gave me the arrow. “It’s fitting that you gave me the heart.”

“Why’s that?”

“See the hole that’s left when you’re missing from it?” He held it up, showing where the other piece fit. “That’s exactly how I feel when you’re not around.”

“You’re my true north, Wyatt. My heart will always point to you.”

“Your turn. Open your gift.” He handed the perfectly wrapped box to me.

I nervously untied the bow and lifted the lid. “This is too much, Wyatt. I can’t take this.”

“You can and you will,” he demanded as he took the gift out of my hand. “Especially since you’re going away to college.”

“I can’t believe you got me an iPhone,” I laughed.

“It’s set up in your name, but I’m paying for your monthly service. I have to be able to reach you at all hours of the day and night.” He winked, his demeanor showing his sexy and playful side. “You tell me no a lot, but I won’t accept no for an answer about this.”

With his thoughtful gift, we chatted continuously—via text, phone, FaceTime. I even joined the social media revolution and tagged him in my relationship status.

Wyatt’s family was cordial to me when we made the obligatory appearances, but a perpetual icy air surrounded us. Blair still didn’t speak to me at all, but I was grateful for that. His friends started to accept me and view me as one of their group, even though my family’s financial situation hadn’t miraculously changed overnight. Maybe they felt compelled to include me since that was the only way Wyatt would go anywhere with them.

As basketball season ramped up, our relationship was not only Facebook official, but yearbook official. The school photographer made his rounds, collecting pictures to go in the last annual we’d have at Ridgeview High. Our lives consisted of finding ways to spend more time with each other, occasionally double dating with Christine and Jayce on the weekends, and hanging out at my house while I did my homework and he watched.

At the end of February, the student council started advertising the prom in mid-April. Students rushed to the tables during lunch to buy their tickets and begin making their plans. Wyatt stole up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. His lips brushed against my ear as he spoke. “Megan, my love. Will you go to the prom with me?”

“I’d love to go to the prom with you, handsome.” Though I didn’t say it, I had no idea how I’d pay for the formal gown I’d need, but I was determined to find a way.

When I got home that afternoon, both Mom and Dad were gone, which was unusual since only one of them was employed. Shrugging it off, I went to my room to study and finish my homework before Wyatt came over, as per my usual afternoon routine. I lost track of time while working through my calculus problems. When I looked up, my parents were standing in my doorway with smiles covering their faces.

“You two are creeping me out. What’s going on?”

They laughed and sat beside each other on the edge of my bed. “We have good news. Your father was rehired with a raise, and I got a raise today.”

“That’s great. Congratulations to you both!” I hugged them, happy for their good fortune, but couldn’t help but wonder if my relationship with Wyatt played a part with the sudden about-face at Montague Manor. “Wyatt asked me to go to the prom today, so we all had an exciting day.”

“We thought he would,” my dad grinned. “Your mom wants to take you shopping for a dress and shoes in a couple of weeks. Think you can spare a Saturday afternoon for her?”

“I think I can pencil her into my schedule.”

We chatted for a while, catching up with each other, and I watched them walk out of my room together. I thought about all the hardships they’d faced and how they clung to their love through it all instead of turning on each other. I hoped I’d be half as lucky if I ever got married.

As promised, two weeks later, Mom and I made a day of shopping for prom-related goodies. She was proud to be able to afford to buy my dress and shoes, and for once I didn’t feel guilty about her spending money on me. I could see it brought her so much happiness to be able to do it.

About a month before the prom, Wyatt surprised me with a Saturday at the beach on Tybee Island. The weather was unusually warm for Spring, so we strolled along the beach barefoot in shorts and tank tops. “It’s so beautiful here. Look at that house.” I pointed toward an enormous home at the end of a long wooden walkway. “I’d love to live there with this view.”

“Your wish is my command.” Wyatt winked and pulled me toward the walkway. “We can live here for today, anyway.”

“What? We can’t just go in someone’s house!”

“No, we can’t. But we can go in my parents’ beach house.”

“Your parents own this house?” I couldn’t believe my ears. Their house in Savannah proper was huge, elaborate, and professionally decorated. But having a vacation home that rivaled their main house astounded me.

“Yep,” he said and unlocked the door. We stepped inside the kitchen from the back deck, and I was instantly in love with the place. “Megan, I have to ask you something.”

“Of course, my love. You know you can ask me anything.”

“Several of my friends and their dates want to come here after the prom and spend the weekend at the beach. I don’t want to pressure you to do anything you’re not ready for, but I really want to spend the weekend with you in my arms. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a perfect idea.”

“Really?” His surprised reaction made me laugh.

Thinking about my parents and looking at the love of my life made me realize I didn’t want to wait any longer. One lost moment of happiness was too much. So I pressed my body against his, stretched up on my toes, and captured his mouth with mine. His arms wrapped around my waist when I slipped my tongue into his mouth. His erection hardened against my belly, and I tightened my arms around him. His hands slid down to my ass and pushed harder against me, slightly curling his hips upward to grind his arousal into me.

I whimpered in need and climbed his body with the help of his muscular arms wrapped underneath me. With my legs wrapped around his waist, he walked us to one of the bedrooms and laid down with one swift move. Our hands tore at clothes, our mouths sought more, and our breaths struggled to keep up. In our hunger, we didn’t slow down until we felt bare skin on bare skin.

Wyatt rose on one arm and searched my eyes, looking for the answer but afraid to ask the question. I simply nodded, giving him my approval to do to me whatever he desired. That was what I wanted, what I needed, and what I was ready to share with him. He’d proven his love and his devotion to me over and over. All I had to give him was all my love—all of me.

When he realized I’d consented, his body melted against mine in relief. And desire. And anticipation.

He went slow—being especially gentle and sweet. He never failed to romance me when we were alone, and our first time was no exception. His fingers stroked my face. His lips left a trail of hot, wet kisses across my skin. His hands explored my body. When the initial pain subsided, he increased his tempo and pressure until I tumbled over the edge of ecstasy like I’ve never felt before.

In the afterglow of our first time making love, our arms wrapped around each other, lying face to face, we swore our unending loyalty and undying love. I believed him. With my whole heart, I believed every word he said. We stayed at the beach house the entire day, exploring one another and talking. Walking on the beach and snuggling. Pretending we were free of all the stress in our lives and focused on each other. It was perfect.

Over the following month leading up to prom night, we made love almost daily. Our connection became addictive. The more I had him, the more I wanted. The scattered days spent apart were excruciating. He’d quickly become the most important person in my life, and my time with him was growing shorter and shorter. Every day marked off on the calendar brought me a day closer to my life goal and a day further away from the love of my life.

My heart was so torn.

The day of the prom finally arrived. Mom and Dad had saved up money to take me to a salon for upscale pampering. When I left, my hair, nails, and makeup were expertly done. My two-piece sky-blue halter top prom dress left an exposed midriff, a sexy and trendy combination. The crystal beaded bodice and flowing A-line floor-length skirt made me feel like an actual princess.

I’d finally worked up enough nerve to tell my parents about the weekend getaway plans. They were surprisingly okay with my planned debauchery. Over the past six months, they couldn’t deny how important Wyatt was to me, and that weekend was a rite of passage, of sorts. I packed a small weekend bag since we’d planned to drive straight to the beach house as soon as we left the ballroom.

A long, black limousine parked on the street outside my house, and the most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen stepped out of the backseat in a black tux, white shirt, and sky-blue cummerbund. He held a corsage in one hand and a huge bouquet of red roses in the other. His confident swagger carried him up to my door where I waited with baited breath.

“These are for our six-month anniversary, baby. I love you, Megan. You push me to excel in areas I’d never thought of before. You never let me settle for anything less than I deserve. You’ve taught me to be brave and stand up for what I want. All these things I am now is because I’ve watched you, learned from you, and wanted to be all those things and more. For you. For us.”

I buried my face in the bouquet of two dozen roses, inhaling their sweet aroma and swallowing the ball of emotion that choked me, cutting off my response. Tears of happiness fell on my cheek, and he wiped them away. “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. No crying allowed, sweetheart. Not even happy tears tonight. We’re dancing, we’re celebrating, and we’re spending the entire weekend together. I promise this will be one weekend you’ll never forget.”

“You can’t say sweet things like that and expect me not to cry, Wyatt.” I laughed through my tears. “That was the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I’ll never forget it, and I’ll never stop loving you.”

After the mandatory one million pre-prom pictures from both my parents and his, we picked up all the friends that were going to the beach house with us for the weekend. The house had eight bedrooms, so Wyatt’s father had arranged two limousines to drive all of us back and forth. The agreement was no adults would be there if Wyatt and Blair guaranteed there would no drinking and driving from anyone they invited. Thankfully, Blair and her crew rode in the second car, so I didn’t have to see her at all.

I’ll admit, I was antsy to get to the beach house. The prom was nice—for about thirty minutes. Then I was over the loud music, crowded dance floor, and tacky crepe paper decorations. When we finally left the ballroom, I was so relieved to begin our weekend of sun, sand, surf, and seclusion.

The lights were on, and music blared from the state of the art stereo system when we arrived. Wyatt looked up at the house and frowned. “Looks like Blair has been here for a while. She’s probably already drunk as hell.”

“I know what you’re worried about. We can avoid her tonight if you’d rather. I’m used to her, but I know how much her snide remarks bother you.” I ran my hand down his arm and laced my fingers with his.

He turned to face me and nodded. “Let’s just go straight to my room and avoid everyone. I have plans for you tonight anyway.”

“Let’s do it.” I wholeheartedly agreed with his plans.

The others jumped out of the limo and rushed toward the front door, screams of laughter echoed on the wind when they entered the house. Wyatt and I circled the house to the side door and up the back stairs to the top floor. Once inside his room, he locked the door behind us to keep the rest of the raucous crowd out.

“What are these plans you have for me?”

He grinned and pulled me into him. “I can’t get enough of you, babe. Can I convince you to try out a new position tonight?”

“There’s not much you can’t convince me to do, Wyatt Weston.”

With that, he helped me out of my dress and helped himself inside of me.

********

Fast forward to Monday morning at school after a perfect weekend at the beach house. A weekend of mind-blowing sex with my gorgeous boyfriend. Walking on the beach, playing in the ocean, swimming in the pool, and lounging in the sand. A weekend with no cares in the world.

Fast forward to the worst day of my life.

Fast forward to the unimaginable betrayal by the one person outside my small family who’d convinced me he loved me.

Christine picked me up for school that morning. Wyatt had told me the night before that he wouldn’t have his car so he’d have to ride with Blair. There was no way in hell I’d ride with her, so my best friend was gracious enough to swing by my house and give me a ride.

As we walked into the school, conversations stopped and whispers ensued. Heads turned, watching me with knowing eyes and lecherous stares. Once I’d passed, the snickers and whispers started. Without even looking, I felt them pointing at me.

“That’s her.”

“She’s the one I told you about.”

Billy Brown walked straight up to me, bold and brazen like never before. “Hey, Megan. How about we go out tonight?”

“No. You know I’m dating Wyatt. Why would you even ask me?” His disrespect thoroughly pissed me off. How dare he even suggest that.

“Not from what I heard. He got what he wanted from you, and now he’s moving on.”

“What?” No. He wouldn’t.

Billy held up his phone. “Yeah, we all got this text from him late last night. I have to say, you look fucking hot. Or maybe I should say, you look hot fucking.”

A video of Wyatt and me played on Billy’s phone. It was the different position Wyatt asked me to try with him. Reverse cowgirl, he’d called it. I was facing forward while straddling him.

“Look at you, riding him like a pro. I have a couple of questions, though. From this angle, we can’t see Wyatt’s face, so this may not even be him. We can only see you. Granted, it’s all of you, but maybe Wyatt caught you cheating on him. My other question is, do you have a rodeo career we don’t know about?” Billy taunted.

People gathered around us, cackling and cat-calling. My stomach churned, the contents threatened to reappear at any moment. How could that happen? How could Wyatt do that to me? I ran to the girls’ bathroom and barely made it into the stall before my stomach emptied itself. Tears ran down my face as I came to realize what Billy had said.

We all got this text from him late last night.

We all.

All the elitist, blue blood, spoiled crowd had that video of me…and they were sharing it with whoever wanted to watch.

I had to find Wyatt.

After rinsing my mouth out at the sink, I opened the bathroom door in the middle of a conversation in the hallway just outside.

“That wasn’t you, man?” Billy laughed, still holding his phone up for the crowd to see.

“No, that’s not me,” Wyatt replied angrily.

My heart didn’t just rip in two at that moment.

It died in my chest.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE PRESENT

T here’s something to be said for hustling and busting my ass eighty plus hours a week for the past ten years. Popping the cork on this champagne bottle in my hand to celebrate opening my own business while standing in front of my ten cheering employees is the next step in my plan.

I gave the name of my company a lot of thought.

Montague Elite Holdings, MLP.

It’s fitting.

“Congratulations, Megan! This is so exciting!”

“I’m ready to get to work and make history!”

“Is there cake?”

Laughter fills the room, and the excitement level is off the charts. We deserve to celebrate—this is a major feat in the business world today. Our office space is in a premier location on Fifth Avenue in New York City. Three thousand square feet of elegant accommodations and furnishings that whisper wealth and privilege. I’m more than thrilled with the success I’ve already achieved, and I can’t wait to see what this team can accomplish in the future.

But my personal plans are more immediate.

Christine wraps her arm around my shoulder and squeezes as she takes a glass of bubbly and passes it to Jayce. “You should be very proud. I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as you have and not once back down during challenging times. I’m honored to call you my best friend.”

“Thank you, Christine.” I affectionately rub her protruding belly. “And thank you for being my little luck charm over the last seven months.”

Christine smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in her eyes directed at me. “I want you to be happy, Megan. All you do is work.”

“Work makes me happy, Chris. Don’t worry about me.”

Mom joins us on my other side. With a deep, steadying breath, she looks around the room before meeting my gaze. “Your father would’ve been so proud to see this, Megan. He loved you so very much.”

“I know. I wish he were here with us. We lost him way too early.”

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad on your opening day. I meant it as a compliment.”

“You didn’t make me sad, Mom. He’s been in my thoughts every day from the moment I started planning this.” She’s hurting too, so I pull her into my arms to reassure her. “He knows, Mom. He’s watching us and smiling.”

After we finish the cake and bubbly, my team disperses to their cubicles. Mom, Christine, and Jayce head back to the hotel. And I settle into my office, power up my computer, and continue the task I started nearly ten years ago when I arrived at Harvard. I check the stock price of Weston Commercial Development, Inc. and buy more Class A shares under each of my other company names as well as my own name.

One step closer to my goal.

My decision to major in Economics at Harvard was the smartest decision I’ve ever made. I learned not only about how economies work and how to make the stock market work for me, but also the psychology behind different economic practices. What drives the wealthy and privileged to reach for more and more money and power. How socioeconomic changes affect every different class of citizen.

My rags-to-hopeful-riches story resonated with the successful stock brokers I worked alongside, and several took me under their wings along the way. They guided me, coached me, and made me look at investments in an entirely different light. They shared everyday practices I would’ve never known about otherwise—steps to amassing my own wealth. On my terms. By my hand.

Then I took what I’d learned from books and brokers, and I applied that knowledge to my situation. The steps I took to correct my way of thinking opened new doors for me, doors I never would’ve found had I thrown away a full scholarship for some stupid boy who made me think he loved me as much as I loved him.

I also learned a lot about myself while studying the psychology behind economics. Though I always denied it, even to myself, the hatred I felt toward the elite group was, in fact, envy. Well, except for Blair. That hatred was all too real. But I realized I wanted their way of life. I wanted how easy everything came to them, how they could do whatever they wanted, and no one dared to question them, and how they had no regrets over how they used and abused others on their climb to the top.

Envy ate me alive because I wanted to be accepted and included. I wanted to feel like I was good enough for them.

Wyatt broke that vicious cycle in me, though.

One newspaper article I found while researching a college paper asked where the corporate raiders of the 80s had gone. I’m poised and ready to answer that question for them now.

Wyatt Weston took over his father’s company about four years ago while I worked as a stock broker on Wall Street. I followed his trail religiously, combing the Internet for any information I could garner about his status—personal and professional. Every minor detail I could find helped build my arsenal against him. His penchant for Facebook updates had shifted from personal to strictly business information, but that was all right with me. I took every scrap of data he shared and filed it away, putting the pieces together and estimating his next move.

The years I’d spent learning from Wall Street’s best helped position me to open my own company. Today is the official grand opening, but I’ve prepared for this day for years. Instead of opening in the red like most start-ups, my company is already well in the black and owns several other businesses that are top performers in their fields. The best thing about holding companies is we don’t make anything. Investments in other companies pay off—and I capitalize on their achievements.

My employees are trained professionals. Some manage the funds of our current companies and others research potential new additions to the MEH family. The only factor that’s consistent among the investments is the diversity of corporations we’re in league with. That keeps my portfolio sound and all my eggs distributed into many baskets. The only thing that can make today better is a positive outcome to the phone call I’m waiting to receive.

My hands shake and my breathing hitches when my line rings. These feelings of anxiousness haven’t affected me like this in a very long time. I’ve been confident in every business dealing I’ve completed. But so much depends on this one call. I’m personally invested in it, and I’m acutely aware of how it skews my typically shrewd judgment.

“Megan King,” I answer.

“Megan, it’s Charlie. How are you?” His voice is upbeat and a little excited, giving me a reason to hope for a favorable vote.

“I’m good, Charlie. Today is our official grand opening, and everyone is so excited. How are you?” All I want to do is blurt out my questions, but I don’t want to give away my angst. It’s uncharacteristic of me and will raise red flags.

“That’s right. Congratulations. I’m glad I reached you then because I have more good news for you.”

“Awesome. Let’s hear it.” Spit it out already, Charlie!

“The board agreed to your generous tender offer, and they have unanimously voted to accept it. They plan to inform the CEO at their meeting next week, and they’d like you to attend in person as a show of faith. They understand you’ll want to replace the board with your own members, and most likely the senior management team too. They want the CEO to know the company will be in good hands when the deal is final and he steps down.”

“That is the best news I’ve heard in a long time. Great job, Charlie. I love having you as my corporate attorney. You are the best at negotiating smooth takeovers.”

Charlie promises to email me the logistics for the board meeting next week, so I can make travel plans to attend in person.

So much for my plan for a hostile takeover. No matter, though. Walking into the boardroom of Weston Commercial Development, Inc. and announcing I’m their proud new owner will be hostile enough.

See you next week, Wyatt Weston.

********

Nothing can break my good mood today. Not my mother’s constant worry about me returning to Savannah. Not Christine’s insistence that I drop this vendetta against Wyatt and his company. Not even the hot, humid oppression that is called summer in the South. Today, I own Weston Commercial Development, Inc., but Wyatt doesn’t know yet. The board hasn’t given him any forewarning since they voted me in and him out. The lucrative packages I offered them were more enticing than their loyalty to a family they’ve known their entire lives.

Most anyone can be bought for a price. But what I’m getting in return is priceless.

Though I’m never late to meetings and don’t tolerate tardiness from my staff, I purposely wait until the current CEO and his board members are seated and about to begin the minutes before I stroll into the room. Maybe I’m making a grand entrance, but I don’t want Wyatt to have even one minute to collect himself. Charlie is already inside, seated at the table next to the chairman of the board.

“Miss King, thank you so much for coming today. Won’t you please have a seat?” The chairman stands to greet me and shake my hand. He’s ancient, well past the age when he should’ve retired and enjoyed his remaining years at a palatial estate somewhere. But his eyes are kind, and I’ve become somewhat of a master at reading people since I left this state.

The only seat that’s vacant is the one to the right of Wyatt, so I take it while keeping my happy expression intact. Wyatt, on the other hand, has just seen a ghost and could fall out of his chair at any moment. Pity I never learned CPR. After a quick glance around the table, I conclude the rest of the board is around the same age as the chairman, so they probably wouldn’t be much help at resuscitating Wyatt either. Thinking about what a damn shame it would be if Wyatt keeled over and died before hitting thirty puts a genuine smile on my face.

“Megan?” Wyatt weakly calls my name. Shock sets in and rattles his brain, rendering him nearly speechless.

“Miss King,” the chairman stresses, “is here at our request. Wyatt, while we appreciate everything you’ve done for us and our shareholders, ME Holdings has tendered an offer that we can’t refuse. Indeed, it would be against the best interests of our shareholders if we didn’t agree to take it. The board has accepted her offer to purchase Weston Commercial. During the transition period, she’ll replace the board members with her own choosing…and, Wyatt, she’ll replace the senior management team as well.”

“What?” Wyatt’s confusion is expected. The shock of seeing me in his boardroom alone would knock him off kilter. But hearing I’ve just bought his company out from under him and that he’ll soon be out of a job must be soul crushing.

One can hope.

“I’m here today as an assurance the company your family built is in very competent hands. My management team will take control, and it will be a seamless transition.” My fake smile is dialed up to the radiant setting. My tone is calm and reassuring while maintaining an air of authority.

“Miss King, is it?” Wyatt asks, his voice suddenly strong again. My, how it has changed from the eighteen-year-old boy I knew. It’s deeper, yet smoother. Commanding, yet caressing.

“It is.” I look him directly in the eye. I’m not about to start backing down now. Not to him. Not to any man.

“Do you have much experience with a commercial real estate development company?” The indirect challenge is there, but I’m not playing his game.

“Mr. Weston, maybe you don’t understand how the world of mergers and acquisitions works. I’m not here to be CEO and day to day manager of Weston Commercial. I just own it. I’ll appoint a board, and they’ll appoint a CEO and senior management to run the operations.”

“I see.” Wyatt nods his head. He doesn’t appear to be as upset as I’d pictured in my mind…as I’d hoped. “I have a proposition for you. Clearly, since the board has already agreed to the package, you don’t have to accept. But I think it would be in the best interest of everyone involved if you did.”

“And that proposition is?” I press.

“You and I can work side by side through the transition period. I can give valuable insight into the daily operations and what skillset the incoming CEO should have. I can even share my ideas for the future of the company when one is appointed, in case he or she wants to implement them. I’ve worked with this board for years, so I have a good pulse check on what the shareholders expect. I’ll be glad to share all that information with you…and more.”

Before I can reject his offer, Charlie chimes in with his opinion. “Megan, I think that’s a great idea, and it would seem foolish not to take him up on it. It’s not often you’re fortunate enough to have the current CEO offer his expertise so selflessly.”

Memo to self: FIRE CHARLIE.

Wyatt’s lips curve into a full smile, covering his face and revealing his perfect white teeth. I can’t help but compare it to how a dog bares its teeth when it’s about to bite you in the ass. But it’s the challenging gleam in his eyes that betrays his smiling face. He’s thrown down the gauntlet as a challenge of my courage.

“You’re exactly right, Charlie, as usual. But, Mr. Weston, I’m not sure how practical working side by side would be when I’m in New York and you’re in Georgia. I do appreciate the offer, but there’s simply no way I can relocate. Especially when, as I said, I have no intentions of managing the daily operations of the business.”

“True, the locale would be a hindrance. If I still lived here. I recently relocated to New York, and as it turns out, my time has just been freed up. I’m excited to work directly with you on this new collaboration.”

“Wonderful. It’s settled then.” The chairman beams, pleased with the happy ending of Weston Commercial Development, Inc.

Wyatt wants to spend a little quality time with me?

Be careful what you wish for…you may just get it.

CHAPTER FIVE

T he tension inside the private jet is suffocating—to everyone except Charlie. He suggested we conserve fuel and invite Wyatt to fly back to NYC with us since he was headed there too. While I agree in theory, putting that plan in action asked a little too much of me. Being around Wyatt for extended periods of time was not what I’d planned at all.

“Megan, didn’t you used to live in Savannah? Or close to it?” Charlie asks, simply trying to start a conversation. I’m sure he thinks it helps put Wyatt and me on common ground.

“That was a lifetime ago, Charlie.” I cut my eyes to Wyatt. “Everything has changed since then.”

“Time has a way of doing that. When you live in the same place your whole life, you get used to the changes. But when you’ve been away for a long time then go back, everything is different. Your memory plays tricks on you.” Charlie thought I was referring to the physical changes to the area, but I wasn’t about to correct him.

“I have a pretty good memory, actually. Always have.”

“Yes, Megan, I have to agree with that. You have a photographic memory. I’m sure that was helpful when you graduated summa cum laude from Harvard.” He chuckles and looks at me with fondness.

Charlie is an older man, slightly older than my mother, and has a heart of gold. He has helped my company and me with many legal negotiations, and we always come out on top. He genuinely cares about his work and his work family. His wife passed away before I met him, and I often worry about him living alone. He must be lonely, especially since he gravitates toward being around other people whenever he can. Though he wasn’t at my graduation, he never fails to praise me for it when the occasion calls for it.

“It didn’t hurt, that’s for sure.”

When we reach cruising altitude, Charlie stands and pats my shoulder. “I’m an old man, Megan. I’m going to the couch at the back of the plane to take a nap. Wake me before we crash.”

“If I don’t forget,” I joke.

When Charlie settles on the couch, he’s out like a light within seconds. Now I’m left with only Wyatt to talk to, so I retrieve my laptop and begin working instead. Not that my obvious plan to avoid small talk with my lifelong enemy deters him. He moves to the seat immediately beside me, so I shut the lid to keep him from snooping into my business.

“Is there something you need?” I glare over my shoulder at him, irritated with how intrusive he’s being.

“Oh, I need plenty of things… But you can only give me one of them while Charlie is back there.”

“And that is?”

“I need to know how you’ve been.”

“Never been better.”

“You know, you’ve never been good at lying. Especially to me. I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed.”

“That’s probably true. I never really had a reason to lie to you, though. But you, on the other hand, were very good at lying. Weren’t you, Wyatt?” The anger burns in my eyes, daring him to try to lie to me right now.

The way he studies me—tilting his head, crinkling his eyes, staring deeply into mine—unnerves me. He always could see into my soul, read my innermost thoughts with a tiny amount of effort. I stare back into his eyes, trying to read his thoughts just as he’s reading mine. What I see there, apparent in his gaze, haunts me.

“I wonder, what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

He won’t win this battle of wills. He won’t fool me into thinking he has any feelings about me...or any feelings at all. Letting my insecurities get the best of me is a thing of the past.

That old familiar feeling in my chest squeezes tightly, the pain of ten years ago rushes back with a vengeance. The humiliation of having my most intimate moments blasted across the school was more than I could bear, and not something I’ve ever forgiven him for. With the icy shroud intact around my heart once again, my expression hardens, but I keep my response cool and collected.

“I don’t have a problem expressing my thoughts and opinions, Wyatt. When I have something to say, you won’t have any question about my intentions—you’ll know without a doubt. All I’m thinking about is who will replace the current board of directors, and who the possible candidates will be to replace you.”

“Do you think it’ll be that easy—replacing me?”

There’s a double meaning to his question. I know what he’s trying to do. Good thing I wasn’t born yesterday.

“Absolutely. Replacing you will be the easiest part of the entire process.”

“Interesting theory, but I have a different view. It’s very challenging to replace the original. There are substitutes. There are temporary stand-ins. Eventually, you may even find someone who is a close second. But no one ever fully takes the place of the first.”

“That’s a romantic notion, but not very practical. I’ve found just the opposite is true. Fresh blood brings new ideas. New eyes see things others miss. Innovative thinkers inject more enthusiasm and life into the mix. Change keeps things from becoming stagnant.”

“Sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.” By the glint in his eye, he thinks I’m lying, and he’s calling my bluff.

“You have no idea.” That is the truth, and better yet—he knows it.

He nods slowly, turning our conversation over in his mind. All the innuendos and unspoken words combined with today’s revelations. He must be starting to realize this acquisition has been a long time in the making.

“Well, I’m looking forward to working with you to make this transition as painless as possible.”

“It will be completely painless, Wyatt. When we’re through, I bet your employees don’t even realize you’re gone.”

We spend the rest of the flight in silence. He moved from the seat next to me to the one across from me. Many times when I glanced up from my laptop, I caught him intently watching me. When our eyes met, he never looked away. I could tell he wanted to say something—whatever was on his mind was on the tip of his tongue. But I didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. None of his lies or apologies could sway me from my ultimate goal.

When the pilot announces we’re preparing for landing, I wake Charlie from his nap. I think he senses the friction between Wyatt and me, but he never mentions it. When we deplane, Wyatt stops me before I can walk away.

“I need to get your phone number, Megan.”

“For what?” I didn’t want him to have my number.

“We’re working together. There may be emergencies or urgent situations, and I need to be able to get in touch with you.”

Though it kills me inside, I concede and give him my number. I also give him the address to the office and tell him what time I’ll be there in the morning. At his insistence, I also save his contact information in my phone. I turn on my heel and walk toward the curb where my driver waits. The masochist in me couldn’t stand not to look, so I glance over at Wyatt and am surprised to see him slide into the back of a taxi. I quickly chalk it up to the element of surprise that hit him today and left him little time to notify his driver.

I’m quiet the entire ride back to my elaborate East Side condo. I can’t help but wonder where Wyatt lives now. Sitting on my private patio, I look out over the city that never sleeps and replay every word, every expression, and every detail of our interactions today. He didn’t respond in any of the ways I envisioned. There was no anger over losing his company. Maybe he’s planning a countermove. Instead of being tongue tied over seeing me again, he seemed to want to talk nonstop.

Then he proposed to work together to transition his position to his replacement. He succeeded in shocking me with that one, which simply means I have to be more on my game tomorrow. For the foreseeable future, we’ll be working much too close together. Everything about him reminds me of what was, what wasn’t, and what could’ve been. When my thoughts come full circle, I’m right back where I am now—poised to crush him, ruin his life, and walk away unscathed.

To give him exactly what he deserves.

********

When I slide out of the backseat the next morning, Wyatt is standing at the front doors of the office building. His eyes rake over me, warming me from the inside out with his sensual stare. But one memory chills me again instantly.

“Good morning,” he says and hands me a cup of coffee. “Cinnamon dolce latte with a double shot of espresso, right?”

I’m pissed off he remembers that was my favorite coffee. The only way I ever had that type of extravagant treat was when he bought it for me. I haven’t had one since then because of the memories a simple concoction evokes. But I’ll never let him know how much such a simple drink affects me, so I take the cup from his hand and keep walking through the opened doors.

“What’s on the agenda for today, boss?” His tone is too easy-going, and I’m too suspicious of him.

“Charlie has already drafted the bylaws for the new organization, so the next step is nominating and contacting the new board members.” He already knows the process, so he’s either testing me or trying to make small talk. Either way, my blunt tone leaves no doubt that he’s already on my nerves.

“Not a morning person, huh?”

I stop walking and turn to him. “I’m a morning person. An afternoon person. An evening person. A night owl. But there are a few things I’m not. One, I’m not interested in you. Two, I’m not interested in being your friend. Three, I’m not interested in working with you. This will be a short transition—I’ll make sure of that.

“In the meantime, you’ll work with someone on my staff, not with me directly. I’ve made it clear I’m not interested in being the CEO. You can meet with the new board to answer any questions they have until they name your replacement. Then you’ll work with the incoming CEO until he or she determines you’re no longer needed.”

“Do I get an office close to yours?”

“No.”

I turn on my heel and continue walking to the elevators. The ride up to my floor is uncomfortable. Not because it’s too crowded, but because it’s not. Wyatt leans against the side wall, staring at me with a smile playing on his lips the entire time. If he’s trying to grate on my last nerve, he is succeeding. I don’t want to think about his lips, or his smile, or anything else I used to love.

When we walk into my company’s office space, he looks around and releases a low whistle. “Whoa, very nice. I’m currently in the market for a new position. I think I’d be very happy working here. Are you hiring, by any chance?”

“No.”

I ignore his amused chuckle and keep walking toward my assistant. “Chelle, can you please get Mr. Weston set up in one of our open cubicles? And ask Adam to come to my office so I can bring him up to speed on the Weston Commercial acquisition. Thank you.”

Without looking back at Wyatt, I start toward my office when I hear him speak to Chelle. She’s attractive, young, and petite, so of course, his voice suddenly became charming and intimate. I want to stop and admonish him for flirting with her, but then I remind myself that I don’t care. I close my office door behind me, maybe with a little too much force.

Adam comes in, and I explain what happened the day before and how I was somehow tricked into working directly with Wyatt. Adam agrees to spend time interviewing Wyatt to document the operating protocol so we can get rid of him as quickly as possible. With my attention focused on my next conquest, I lose track of time and somewhat forget that Wyatt is somewhere just outside my office door.

Until he barges in.

“Don’t you ever eat lunch?”

“No.”

“I’m starving. Let’s grab a bite to eat. I know a great place.”

Such a typical line. I roll my eyes and go back to what I was working on.

“All right. If you don’t want to have lunch with me to discuss a major business deal that’s still under negotiation, maybe Chelle would like to join me.” He turns and looks at my assistant sitting just outside my office, and from his profile I see an appreciative smile cross his face.

I hate the envy that fills me from just thinking about him seeing someone I know.

“I’m sure she’d love to go to lunch with you. Go ask her. I have work to do.”

He leans against the doorframe, looks at the floor, and shakes his head. “You really need to work on your poker face. But that’s okay—she’s not the one I want to have lunch with, anyway. You have to eat sometime, Megan. I know you didn’t have breakfast, and you’ve been at it for hours.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve been taking care of myself for years. You’re here one day and think you know what’s best for me? I’m busy.”

“Okay. If you insist.”

He closes my door behind him, and I breathe a sigh of relief. For a minute there, I thought I’d have to go to lunch with him just to make him stop asking. A quick glance up assures me Chelle is still at her post outside my office, so I know he didn’t ask her. Why am I slightly relieved by that fact? Maybe because if they began dating, I’d either be forced to fire her or see him every day.

I’d miss Chelle.

Thirty-five minutes later, just when I’d pushed him out of my mind again, he strolls through my office door like he owns the place and begins doling out to-go containers of food. He moves my laptop out of the way and ignores my death glare. The aroma fills the room, and my traitorous stomach growls loudly. He has the nerve to smile at me—a genuine smile of triumph.

“Aha. So you are hungry.”

Thank you, Captain Obvious.

He opens the container he placed in front of me, gives me a plastic fork, and puts the straw in my drink. He moves around to the other side of my desk, pulls the chair closer, and prepares his own meal. All I can do is stare at him, confused by his audacity and astounded by his stupidity. Just when I think he’s finally reached the limit of his insanity, he pulls a small candle out of the bag, sets it between us, and lights it.

“Now we can enjoy a candlelight meal. Dig in before it gets cold.” He proceeds to stuff his mouth with food…and my stomach has the nerve to growl again. He looks up at me, then down at my untouched food, and points at it with his fork. He can’t speak because his mouth is full of food.

So that’s how to get him to shut up.

I decide to take a few bites just to say I ate and force him to leave, but I can’t seem to stop once I start. Every taste is better than the last, and I keep shoveling it in until every bit of it is gone. I lean back in my comfortable executive chair and pat my full stomach. “That was delicious and much more than I needed. But thank you for the meal. I’ll reimburse you for the expense. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m very busy today.”

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. When you were younger, your hair was so blonde. Even in elementary school, I wanted to touch it because it made me think of Rapunzel. The darker streaks you have in it now make you look so refined and professional. But it’s also sexy as hell.”

“Wyatt, seriously…”

“Have you missed me at all?”

“Only because I needed to work on my aim.”

CHAPTER SIX

A dam and Wyatt spent all week documenting the operations of the various departments and senior level positions at Weston Commercial. After the first day of lunch together, I didn’t see Wyatt much. Adam kept him busy and away from me as much as possible. Out of sight almost equaled out of mind. Not much has changed in the past ten years in that area.

He’s never very far from my thoughts. Always lurking in the back of my mind, waiting to pounce with full force when I least suspect it.

It’s finally Friday, and I have the board members nailed down. After spending countless hours on the phone and in meetings, I’ve filled all the positions, and they’re ready to start picking Wyatt’s brain before finalizing his replacement. But first, they insist on having a dinner party at an exclusive executive club. They claim the relaxed atmosphere makes everything seem friendlier and helps acquisitions go smoother. I say they just want an excuse to meet for food and drinks, but if that’s what it takes to get Wyatt Weston out of my life for good, I’m game.

“Wyatt, can I speak to you in my office, please?” I ask when I approach him and Adam in the conference room.

“Of course.”

He follows close behind me, and the spicy scent of his masculine cologne assails my senses. Focusing on the task at hand is suddenly extremely difficult. I mentally shake off the distraction and gesture toward the open seat in front of my desk.

“The board members are confirmed, so we’re ready to move to the next step. They requested we join them at The Fresian Executive Club tonight at eight for cocktails and dinner. They prefer to meet under social conditions before they begin the official exit interview process. I’m sorry for the late notice. The chairman contacted me last night, and I didn’t want to disturb you because it was already late. Can you arrange to be there?”

“I think I can rearrange my schedule and make it work. My date may not be very pleased with me.”

“You’re welcome to bring her. Everyone will have a plus one—dates, significant others, mistresses, whatever.”

He has a date tonight. I should be glad. No temptations. No second thoughts. No regrets. This is almost over.

“Are you bringing a date tonight, Megan?”

My stare is impassive as I ignore his question and write down the address to the club. “Be here by eight tonight. The dress code is business formal.”

He takes the paper from me, his fingers brush across mine and hold on. That old flash of electricity shoots up my arm. My eyes fly up to his, and I know he feels it too. But he’s watching for my reaction, checking my feelings for him, testing my resolve. I jerk my arm away and narrow my eyes at him.

“Don’t be late, Wyatt. Don’t waste our time.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Megan.”

********

In the ten years since I left Savannah, I can count my lovers on two fingers. The first one was while I was in college and was merely a one-night stand. After too many drinks at a frat party during my senior year, I made the stupid mistake of throwing caution to the wind. I wasn’t drunk by any means, but the buzz I had going was enough to strip my inhibitions. When the deed was done, I slipped out of his bed before he woke and sprinted back to my apartment.

I couldn’t help but compare him to Wyatt. Even though I hadn’t felt Wyatt in four long years, I couldn’t forget one second of our time together. The way Wyatt touched me. The way my body stretched to make room for him. The way we fit together perfectly. The sighs, moans, and screams he so easily elicited from me. The intimacy we created and the deep feeling of contentment afterward had been perfect.

All of that was missing with my single-night lover. The physical act was there, but it was nothing to brag about. There were no feelings attached. No urgency or craving. We went through the motions, but the entire act felt robotic. When we’d finished, he disposed of the condom and passed out on the bed beside me, unaware I lay there staring at the ceiling, wondering if I’d ever enjoy sex again. His soft snores assured me he was fast asleep, and I eased out of his room and his life in the darkness. No walk of shame in the light.

Lover number two, Russell, is better than the one-nighter, but not as skilled as my friend BoB…who resides in my nightstand drawer. Russell and I worked together as stock brokers, and our arrangement has always been straightforward. No strings, no relationship, no entanglements—just occasional sex. If one of us isn’t interested, or seeing someone at the time, there are no hard feelings. Because there are no feelings involved. Russell and I go months in between hooking up. Since we’re both workaholics and relationship-phobic, it works for us.

When the chairman called me last night, I immediately called Russell.

“Hey, Russell, it’s Megan,” I said when he answered his phone.

“Yes, I know who you are, sweets. I was just thinking about you.”

“That’s not why I’m calling, Russell. I need a favor. I need you to be my date for an executive meeting tomorrow night. Can you make it?” I explained the function and background to give him a better sense of what to expect. And why I was so desperate for a date. I may have left out my history with Wyatt.

“You know, you’re the only one I’d do this for. No one else could tempt me into going to a get together like this. I can’t even call it a party. It’ll be a stuffed-shirt, smelly cigar smoke, brandy in a crystal tumbler kind of party. Not even close to my scene.”

Russell’s scene that he’d repeatedly tried to get me to attend with him was a high-class, private sex club where nothing was taboo. Big surprise, I was nowhere near ready for exhibitionism. I’d had my fill of that.

“Thank you, Russell. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m sorry to put you through this, but not sorry enough to let you off the hook.”

He laughed good-naturedly and agreed to pick me up at seven.

When we hung up, my thoughts moved back to Wyatt again, of course. He said he’d moved to New York recently and I had no idea if he had a girlfriend or not, but I wasn’t about to show up to that party alone. Especially not when he’d already confirmed he wouldn’t be alone. I know he threatened to ask Chelle to lunch, but I also know he wouldn’t have gone through with it. That’s why I called his bluff on it.

But I had no knowledge about his life here. Or who he shared it with. I didn’t even know he’d moved here, and I’ve stalked him on social media for years. Stalking for business reasons only, of course.

I’m standing in my walk-in closet, staring at my clothes, and trying to decide what to wear. Which of my dresses says “I’m fabulous” without adding “because I’m trying too hard”? I finally settle on the simple little black dress since it works for almost any situation. With my hair and makeup finished, I have a glass of wine to calm my anxiety before Russell knocks on my door.

When I open the door, I’m taken aback by his rugged good looks dressed up in a silk suit tailor-made to fit his athletic frame. I haven’t seen him in so long I almost forgot how handsome he is. I invite him in and watch him walk with his confident swagger through my apartment. This moment is the first time I’ve realized he’s almost the exact opposite of Wyatt.

Where Wyatt has blond hair, Russell has jet black hair. Wyatt has blue eyes, and Russell’s are so dark brown they’re almost black. Wyatt’s skin is light until he’s spent a few days in the sun, then it becomes a golden tan. Russell has an olive complexion that never changes. Wyatt is athletic and carries himself with the coordination of a professional athlete, quick to move when he needs to and ready to stand fast when he should. Russell has a more refined air—pompous, polished, and ready to win a battle of wits rather than a battle of fists.

For a moment, I consider telling Russell the rest of the story…the real reason I need him by my side tonight. But I can’t…not without revealing everything, and I’m not ready for that conversation. Besides the fact that we don’t have time to get through the whole sordid tale, I’d be such an emotional wreck during the party tonight there’d be no way I could hide it. Maybe I’ll tell Russell after the deal is complete and I strip the company down to nothing, fulfilling my plan to destroy everything related to Wyatt.

“You look beautiful, as usual,” Russell croons. His lascivious smirk is intact but does nothing for my libido. In fact, it has the opposite effect than what he intends.

“Don’t even give me that look,” I chastise him. “Let’s just get through this party tonight and put it behind us.”

“You’re never nervous when it comes to business. You never make a move without having all your facts double and triple checked. What’s different about this one?”

“Something I can’t put my finger on. I expected a hostile takeover, actually. I was prepared for a dawn raid. Swoop in, use all my resources to squash the little guy, and walk away triumphant. But the board accepted my tender offer. The current CEO didn’t object at all. In fact, he offered his expertise to help the incoming CEO get up to speed. He’s been working with Adam to document every detail the new management team will need to step into place.”

“So? He’s ready to move on to bigger and better things. You gave him an out.” Russell shrugs his shoulders like it’s no big deal. On a normal day with a normal deal, I’d agree with him.

“But this CEO’s family built the business. They’ve handed it down from generation to generation, adding and upgrading services throughout the years. Now he’s just…unconcerned.”

“Megan, you probably just answered your own question. He’s unconcerned. He doesn’t care. Just because his family has owned the business for years means nothing to him. He’s accepted the fate of the company and is taking his exit stage left. You’re overthinking this one, babe.”

Russell looks down at his watch and sighs. “It’s time to leave for the boring party. Please tell me this won’t take all night.”

“I’d say two hours, tops. Anything after ten will be past their bedtime.” I laugh and grab my clutch. “I’m ready.”

“Good. My club will just be getting started by then. You know, you’re still more than welcome to come with me.”

“As always, I appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to pass. Again.”

When we reach The Fresian Executive Club, several couples have already started to gather in our reserved room. Adam and Chelle are sipping cocktails together. I already knew they were a couple, but I still wanted to see her shoot Wyatt down. Charlie and my mom are sitting beside them. I’ve wondered for a while now if they’re a couple, but haven’t had the nerve to ask them. Not that I’d mind—Charlie is a wonderful man—but I’m still not over losing my dad. I’m not sure I’ll ever be, honestly. But I want Mom to be happy, and if Charlie makes her happy, I’ll support their relationship. A few of the board members and their wives are milling about, talking and laughing in small groups.

Even with my back to the door, I know the exact second he steps into the room. Electricity charges the air in the room and ignites my nerve endings. Chills pebble across my skin and shivers run up and down my spine. I hate that he still has such physical and emotional control over me. After what he did. After all the years we’ve spent apart. After all the laser-focused energy I’ve expended on hating him.

I want him to suffer. I want him to beg for my forgiveness. I want to ruin his life and his chances of ever loving anyone again. I want to take away everything that’s important to him and leave him with a giant hole in his heart that can never be filled.

Russell returns from the bar with our drinks, and I take mine from his hand. When I turn to speak to him, I see Wyatt shaking hands with one of the board members, and a beautiful woman has her perfectly manicured fingers wrapped around his arm. She’s flawless—from her hair to her dress to her shoes. The way she moves, the way she joins conversations, and the way she so easily fits in with the influential and wealthy people in this room.

She’s one of them. One of the blue bloods I’ve wasted so much envy on over the years. One of the elitists who would hail from the long pedigree line of Montague Manor. She’d fit right in with the crowd that never accepted me. If I had to guess, I’d say even Blair loves her.

My knees feel shaky, so I wrap my hand around the bend of Russell’s arm for support. He looks down at me, a spark of curiosity in his eyes, but also a hint of something more. I’ve never shown any affection toward him in public before, so my actions have most likely confused him. No one has a clue about our intimate relationship…or, rather, arrangement. The other functions we attended together were as friends only—no touching, no hint we were anything more than work associates.

“Have I been upgraded and don’t know?” Russell asks.

“What do you mean?” I pull my head back, furrow my brow, and narrow my eyes at him.

“You never wanted anyone to know about us before, so I thought maybe you were embarrassed of me. But tonight, you seem more like my date instead of an acquaintance. I just thought maybe you’d finally decided to admit your feelings for me.” Russell turns to face me, affectionately stroking my cheek.

I’m so confused. We agreed to no complications. We had a thorough discussion about it, so neither of us would be hurt in the long run.

“Russell, I’ve never been embarrassed of you. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. Nothing could be further from the truth. I’m just a very private person, and I’m very cautious with who knows personal information about me.”

That’s the truth, and it’s the best I can say in response at the moment.

He cocks his head to the side. “But these people are privy to your personal information?”

“This is a more intimate setting than a group of coworkers meeting for drinks at the corner bar. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I do. Sometimes I wonder…” His voice trails off, leaving it up to me to push the issue or let it go.

I never realized I’d hurt him by hiding our relationship, making him believe I thought so little of him. I can’t hurt him again. “You wonder what?”

“I wonder if you’ll ever put your guard down and let me in. I wonder how we’d be as a real couple.” He pauses, considering his next words. “I wonder if you know I’ve never even been to the club. I only mention it to see what kind of reaction I’ll get from you. Will it be envy or apathy? You think you hide everything so well, but I know someone hurt you—badly. I have no doubt you think you’re broken beyond repair. But I promise you, as your friend and part-time lover, you’re not.”

“Russell…” I don’t even know what to say. How do I respond to that? Everything in my life has been focused on destroying the one who destroyed me. The envy that once consumed me was replaced by vengeance and hatred. So much that I didn’t realize I was hurting others in my quest.

“Don’t, Megan. Don’t answer me tonight. My confession is ill-timed and inconsiderate. Tonight is about you, and you’ve been anxious about this deal. I just added to your misery, and for that I’m sorry. We’re friends, and I’m here for you. When this acquisition is complete, you can think about what I said and answer me then.”

“Russell Harrison? Is that you?” One of the board members interrupts before I can answer. When we both turn toward the voice, my eyes land on Wyatt first.

His face is blood red, and his jaw is gritted so tight his cheek muscles twitch.

He clenches his fists at his sides.

His nostrils flare with each angry breath he exhales.

His eyes dart back and forth between Russell and me.

CHAPTER SEVEN

R ussell steps away from me to speak to an old friend of his father’s, and that leaves me to deal with Wyatt’s livid gaze. While I do want to destroy him, I don’t want to jeopardize the transaction when we’re so close to completing everything. Under the guise of making my introduction rounds, I say hello to a couple of people on my way to Wyatt.

“Enjoying the party?” I can’t seem to help myself. Jabbing that imaginary dagger a little deeper into his chest feels too good.

“Not as much as you are, but the night is still young.”

“Where’s your date? I wanted to meet her.”

“She’ll be right back. I’ll be glad to introduce you to her.” He watches me, using his uncanny ability to see straight through to my soul. “While we wait for her, you can introduce me to your date.”

Panic grips me at the thought of the two men swapping stories about me. Just the thought of it makes me nauseous. But I swallow the bile rising in my throat and press forward toward my goal. “Sure, I can introduce you to Russell.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and inhales deeply. “Do you even know he’s in love with you?”

“You haven’t even spoken to Russell. How would you know how he feels or what he thinks?” His words and the turn in the conversation shock me to the point my response sounds stilted and unnatural.

“Because I’m not fucking blind, Megan. I have eyes that see and ears that hear. Do you?” He keeps his voice low and composed so others mingling around us can’t hear him. But I detect the controlled anger in his tone. I feel the tension rolling off him in waves.

Before I can respond, Russell reappears by my side with a fresh drink. He takes the nearly empty glass from my hand and places it on the tray of a passing waiter. “Here you go, sweets. Thought you could use a refresher.” Then he turns his attention to Wyatt and extends his hand. “Sorry to interrupt. I’m Russell Harrison, and you are?”

“Wyatt Weston.” He takes Russell’s hand and gives it a quick two-pump shake. “I’m the ex.”

I stop breathing, and I can’t remember how to start again.

“Beg your pardon?” Russell asks.

“The ex-CEO,” Wyatt clarifies, shifting his gaze to me. “Megan swooped in from nowhere, pulled the rug right out from under my feet, and I didn’t even know I’d hit the ground until she was done with me. She’s good, I have to give her that.”

“You have no idea just how good,” Russell agrees. “She has an incredible head for business.”

Russell thinks Wyatt is talking about the business acquisition. By his tone, I have a feeling Wyatt is talking about something completely different, but his statement doesn’t line up with our ending.

Wyatt’s date walks up to his side with a friendly smile on her face. He drapes his arm around her shoulders and pulls her close to him. “It’s about time. I was beginning to think you’d ditched me.”

“Never. You know better than that.” She playfully smacks him on the chest, obviously comfortable with touching him and public displays of affection.

That envy I thought I was done with? It’s back with a renewed fury. Not only is she obviously in his same league, it’s painfully obvious that she’s also a nice person. She’s not tainted. She hasn’t been jaded by love yet. She’s able to give and accept affection without fear of what others think or say.

She’s who I thought I was when I was with Wyatt.

She’s what I’ll never be again.

With a sweet smile, she offers her hand to me. “Wyatt has forgotten his manners. Hi, I’m Jackie. You must be Megan King.”

“Yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you, Jackie.” I shake her hand and return a warm smile. I keep reminding myself none of this is her fault.

“I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to meet you finally.”

“Oh? Good things, I hope.” I laugh and try to keep the nervous quiver out of it.

“All good, all good.”

I introduce her to Russell, and they exchange pleasantries. Then Jackie asks, “Have you two been together long?”

Russell and I exchange an awkward glance, one that Wyatt picks up on immediately and cuts his all-seeing eyes to me. Our gazes meet briefly before I drop my eyes to the floor for a heartbeat to break his telepathic connection to my thoughts.

“We’ve known each other for several years, but we’re actually just good friends.” Russell takes a drink from his glass and glances around the room, a clear sign he’s uncomfortable with this topic.

“What about you two?” I ask, removing the focus from Russell and me. “Have you been together long?”

Wyatt smirks at me. His smug smile confirms he knew I couldn’t wait to ask. Jackie laughs and shakes her head. “Well, I’ve known this man all my life and had to endure a lot of craziness from him over the years. But I couldn’t ask for a better cousin.”

Cousin?

I feel like such a fool.

With a permanent smile affixed to my face to hide my embarrassment, I chuckle along with Jackie. “Family is important,” I reply. When I look back at Wyatt, he slightly shrugs one shoulder as if to say “whaddya know?”

At the mention of family, memories of my father pop into my head. My expression changes to match my inner thoughts—sadness, anger, regret. My demeanor shift isn’t enough for Russell or Jackie to detect, but Wyatt notices. His playful “caught you” expression turns to one of concern and questioning. Before he can ask, servers arrive ringing small bells, signaling the group to take our assigned places at the dining tables.

Thankfully, Wyatt and Jackie are assigned to a table across the room from us.

Not that the space between us lessens the weight of Wyatt’s probing stare.

After dinner, the chairman asks Wyatt, Charlie, and me to meet with him. Once the crowd has said their goodbyes and left the club, the four of us sit at one table while our dates chat at the bar.

“I’ve talked to every board member tonight, and we all have a good vibe from you, Wyatt. You’re smart, resourceful, and resilient. If you’re interested in staying on as CEO, I think we’d all agree to that.”

My chin drops to my chest. That old bastard did not just go against me. My vision shifts between him and Wyatt, trying to reconcile what the hell happened. Wyatt examines my reaction for several seconds before replying.

“I appreciate the compliments. Your seal of approval is flattering. But I think Miss King’s initial assessment is correct. It’s time for some new blood in the company. Someone who is passionate about taking the company in new directions and making bold changes.”

“Your straightforward answer is much appreciated, Wyatt. You’re a good man.” The chairman stands and shakes hands with Wyatt. “Best of luck to you. If I can ever help you with anything, just say the word.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Turning to me, the chairman continues. “We’ll make our formal offer to the top candidate first thing Monday morning. She’s ready to join the team and has already provided several inspiring ideas for expansions.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Thank you.”

He nods with a smile and walks toward the bar to get his wife’s attention. I can’t help but watch as they leave together, holding hands and smiling lovingly at each other. With my attention fixed on them, I don’t even realize I’ve leaned back in my chair away from the table, unable to tear my eyes from them until they’re out of sight.

They’re so happy and so in love. I overheard him say during dinner they’d recently celebrated forty-two years of marriage. A sharp pain tears through my chest, stealing my breath and forcing tears to my eyes.

You’ll never have that, a voice whispers.

“Megan?” Wyatt questions, alarm lacing his tone. “Megan, what’s wrong?”

Unable to sit there any longer, I jump up from the table and call out to Russell. “I’m ready to go. Do you mind taking me home?”

“I don’t mind at all.” Russell quickly walks to me, wraps his arm around my shoulders, and pulls me close to his side. He’s seen my full-blown anxiety attacks before and has talked me through them. He turns to say goodbye to the room for both of us to get me away from prying eyes as quickly as possible.

Wyatt’s stance is unmistakable—his muscles are taut, ready to push Russell to the side and take his place. But he doesn’t understand exactly what’s happening or why, so he allows someone who knows me to handle the situation. Though he doesn’t like it at all.

That’s too fucking bad. I never had anxiety attacks until Wyatt Weston entered my life. Or, more accurately, I didn’t have them until the day he exited my life.

Inside my apartment, I can finally breathe again. These walls are familiar. My surroundings are comforting. Russell sits on the couch and wraps his arms around me, whispering comforting words. Focusing on my breathing helps calm my racing mind and pounding heart until I can finally sit up again.

“Thank you,” I say sheepishly. “That came out of nowhere.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“What do you mean?”

Russell’s lips lift into a sad smile. “There’s a lot of unresolved feelings there, Megan. You’ve got to face everything that happened before you’ll ever be able to move forward and be happy again. With anyone, even yourself.”

Tears drop onto my cheeks when I look down. “I don’t know if I can face it, Russell.”

“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Megan.” He huffs out a ragged sigh. “As much as I hate to say this, I feel like I have to, as your friend.”

I look up at him, waiting for him to drop the hammer on me with his tough love and words of wisdom.

“That man is in love with you, Megan. I don’t mean a little. I don’t mean infatuation or even lust. I mean the jump in front of a bullet and die for you kind of love. You were harder to read tonight, so I’m guessing he’s the reason your heart is off-limits now. Figure this out before it destroys you.”

He leans over and places a gentle kiss on my cheek. “Is the worst of it over now?”

“Yes. Thank you for helping me through it. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

“My pleasure, sweets.”

Standing in my shower with the hot water pouring over me, I turn Russell’s words over and over in my mind. Without a doubt, he’s right. I can’t hold it all in any longer and expect to be sane in the end. Though I dread it and it scares the shit out of me, I allow the memories to flood my mind, one after the other. I relive every feeling from that day forward.

I drop to my knees and wail, hoping the white noise of the shower drowns out the sound, so my neighbors don’t call the police. When the water turns cold, I pick myself up and let the last tear float down the drain with the cool water. I dry off and wrap my thick, fluffy robe around me.

It’s time to end this vendetta. It’s time to put the final plans in motion that will sever the ties for good. I’ve concluded that seeing him, talking to him, allowing him in the office with me, having lunch with him, and being around him at all is detrimental to my health and sanity. Drawing out my revenge has come to an end—the rest will be done in one swift motion, allowing me to put it all behind me and never see him again.

With one text to Charlie, it’s all over.

Sell all my shares of Weston Commercial. Then make it a private company.

His reply comes within seconds.

That will bankrupt the company.

My answer is simple.

I know.

CHAPTER EIGHT

B y the end of the day Monday, Charlie sent me an email confirming all my shares had been sold and the process to convert Weston Commercial from a publicly traded company to a privately held one was underway. Soon, the debt that was covered by shareholders and selling of stocks would be moved to the bottom line of the privately-owned company. The financial burden would be too much for the company to recover from, and the Westons’ namesake would fold.

This is what I’ve wanted for ten years. Their demise had become my life’s ambition. All my other successes paled in comparison to how I thought I’d feel when the deed was finally finished.

But today, I don’t feel very accomplished.

I feel hollow. Empty. Alone.

I’d more than doubled my money by selling the stocks back to the company. Weston Commercial would be forced to take out a large loan to cover the cost of buying out all the shareholders’ stocks. I’d sell off major divisions of the company that had been built up over the years, increasing my wealth and decreasing the company’s ability to secure more capital. Within a few months and after a few carefully construction negotiations, the Weston name would be forgotten.

For the first time in the six years I’d been out of college, I decided to leave work at a reasonable hour. The sun is still shining. Hordes of people fill the sidewalks, hustling from one place to the next. All I want to do is slow down, though. I head toward my apartment building, but instead of going in, I cross the street to Central Park and find a park bench to call my own.

“Beautiful day to enjoy the park, isn’t it?”

I close my eyes and wonder if I just conjured him from my thoughts. He sits beside me on the bench. I can feel the heat emitting from his body. When I open my eyes, he’s watching me with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“It is a beautiful day,” I reply. “What do you want, Wyatt?”

“At this moment, I only want to talk.”

“About?”

“I overheard a rumor in the office today that you’re making Weston Commercial a private company.”

“That’s right.”

“You know that’ll bankrupt it, right?”

“Of course, I know that.”

“That’s been your plan all along?”

“Yes, though I didn’t plan to do it this soon. I was going to wait until after I sell it off piece by piece. I’ll still make sure it’s completely crippled before I hammer the final nail in the casket.”

“What changed your timeline?”

“A sad realization I had this weekend. You’ve consumed my thoughts and life for the last ten years. I’ve spent so much time, energy, and money on destroying you, I somehow forgot to live my own life along the way. Not only did you steal my happiness back then, but I’ve allowed you to continue to steal it for far too long. I have everything that used to be yours now, so there’s no need to drag it out any longer. When I’m done, I’m done. And I’m done with you, Wyatt Weston.”

I stand and begin to walk away when his reply stops me.

“There’s something you’re dead wrong about. You’re nowhere near done with me. And I’m certainly not done with you. Only one thing you said is actually true, though.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I put my hand on my hip and meet his smug expression with one of my own.

“You own everything that used to belong to me, including my heart.”

“That would be a great line, Wyatt…if you actually had a heart.” I turn and walk away at a brisk pace, putting him behind me where he belongs.

“You’re always running away from me. Why don’t you stand toe-to-toe and talk to me?” He jogs to catch up with me, then walks backward to stay in my face.

“All right. What’s the next topic you want to cover?”

“I’d bet my last dollar you haven’t had dinner yet. Probably didn’t eat lunch either.”

“You want to discuss my eating habits?”

“Yes,” he exclaims. “Over dinner. Let me take you out to eat.”

“Why the hell would I go out to eat with you?”

“To prove you’re not afraid to be alone with me. To confirm you’re really done with me and show me you’re not affected by me in the least.” He flashes his charming smile, daring me to argue.

“I’ll go, but only because I’m hungry. And because I know you’ll just sit with me anyway.”

“Perfect. I’ll take it. Where do you want to go?”

“There’s a pizza place down the street. They’re quick.”

He throws his head back in laughter. “That’s fine with me. I can eat slow, my love.”

My love. That stings.

With an about-face, I begin the trek toward the restaurant, and Wyatt has no problem keeping in step with me.

“Did you break up with Russell?” His tone is nonchalant, but his posture is rigid while he waits for my answer.

“I can’t break up with someone who’s only a friend.”

“I’ll rephrase. Have you ended your friends with benefits relationship with Russell?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we haven’t had benefits in months.”

“That’s good to know. Keep it that way.”

We reach the restaurant door, and I turn to roll my eyes exaggeratedly at him before walking inside. “I’m not having this conversation with you. Find another topic.”

“All right. Just remember you asked for it.”

He asks the hostess to seat us in the booth that provides the most privacy. Though she seems to ignore his request at first, she takes us to one that is the farthest from the other patrons. He gestures for me to sit first, so I slide into one side, and he slides in beside me, trapping me against the wall.

“You can’t sit over there?” I ask incredulously.

“No. If I give you too much space, you’ll run from me again.”

We order our drinks and meals, and after a few minutes, the waitress returns with our drinks. Wyatt offers her an extra $20 on her tip if she stays away from our table until the food is ready or until we call her. She readily agrees and disappears, leaving us alone. Leaving me alone to face Wyatt. To face my demons.

Aren’t they one in the same?

“What happened to you at the club the other night? Why did you have to leave so quickly?”

“Well, don’t ease into the conversation on my account. Just jump right into the crux of it all, why don’t you?”

He reaches for my hand, silently sharing his strength. I think he knows what was happening to me, but maybe he hasn’t connected the dots for what caused it yet. “Talk to me, Megan. Please.”

Russell’s voice, urging me to face my problems and deal with them head on, echoes in my memory. “Sometimes I have severe panic attacks. One started that night, and I had to get out of there before I freaked out in front of everyone.”

“Russell knew what was happening?”

“Yes. He’s seen them before. He has talked me through them until I’m calm enough to function again. When he recognized what was happening, he took me back to my apartment as fast as he could.”

“Do you know what triggered it that night?”

I think about how to answer his question, and why I even feel compelled to answer it. Part of me wants answers from him—a big part of me. If I were trained in the art of waterboarding, I’d use it on him until he told me everything I wanted to know. But another part of me doesn’t want the answers at all. If his explanation turned out to be worse than what I’ve imagined, I’m not strong enough to cope.

He gently squeezes my hand, bringing me back to the present. To him. To his question.

“It was a combination of things that kept piling up until the final straw pushed me over the edge.”

“What was the last straw?”

“I don’t know why I’m telling you anything. You won’t understand, but if you really want to know...”

“I do.”

“I watched the chairman of the board walk out with his wife. They were holding hands and kissing. They were close. He bragged about their recent wedding anniversary over dinner. I heard a small voice in my head whisper, telling me I’ll never have that. Then the room started closing in on me, and I had to get out.”

“Why do you think you’ll never have that, Megan?” His eyes search mine, trying to read my thoughts and touch my soul again. I want to let him because that would be easier than verbally answering his question.

“You broke me in so many ways, Wyatt,” I whisper, pain infused in my tone. “I’ll never have what they have because I’ll never love another person again. I’ll never let them love me. My heart wasn’t just broken—it died. There is no love in me to give.”

Shock and anguish cover his handsome face. He opens his mouth to respond but then stops himself. He’s trying to find the perfect response, but there’s not one. “Megan,” he says with a sigh. “Baby.”

Perfect timing, the waitress arrives with our pizza and halts all conversation. When she leaves us again, we both stare at the slices without moving.

“I want you to promise me something, Megan,” he starts, rife with agony. “There’s so much we need to talk about. This restaurant is not the place. Promise me you’ll give me the time to talk to you later. Swear it, or I swear you’ll never leave this booth.”

“Is it really worth rehashing everything, Wyatt? Isn’t it time we both moved on and lived our lives?”

He raises his head to look me directly in the eye. “Hell, yes, it’s worth it. You’re worth it. We’re worth it. Promise me.”

“All right. I promise.”

He serves the first slice to me then fills his plate. After his third bite, he puts his slice down and purposely glares at mine that’s still untouched then up at me. “I said I wanted to talk about your eating habits, didn’t I?”

“You did, but we don’t have to.”

“No, we do have to. Why do you skip several meals in a row? You said you were hungry, but now you’re not eating.”

I pick up my slice and take a bite. “Happy now? I’m eating.”

“I know how to pick my battles, so I’ll take that for now. If I have to bring you every meal to make you eat, I’ll gladly do it.”

“I don’t need you to rescue me. I obviously eat, or I wouldn’t even be alive.”

He finishes off the entire pizza besides the one slice I ate. Before he lets me slide out of the booth, I have to promise I’d show up at his apartment the next day and stay as long as it takes to sort through everything that went wrong between us. I have a feeling once I enter his apartment, hell barricade the doors and windows so I can’t run from him again.

He walks me back to my apartment building, and I immediately have regrets about making that promise to him. It feels a lot like when he used to walk me to my classes. Talking to him seems too natural. His company is too easy to enjoy. But he said he had a lot to tell me about that time, and I have a lot to tell him about immediately after everything blew up at school.

Although, he’ll probably regret asking for this little talk after I tell him everything I have to share. At least we’ll both have closure…one way or another. Knowing this soul-baring time will take all day, I did something else I haven’t done in the last ten years.

I schedule a day off and alert my team of my absence via email.

Tomorrow will be emotionally draining and painful.

CHAPTER NINE

T he cab drops me off in front of his apartment building, and I inhale a deep breath of second thoughts and regrets before I step inside. When I give my name at the security desk, the guard confirms I’m expected and tells me to go on up. I step off the elevator and find Wyatt waiting for me. He’s wearing a navy T-shirt, worn denim jeans, and no shoes. His hair is messy but sexy, and his early morning five o’clock shadow fade is sexy as hell.

For half a second, I think about stepping back on the elevator and running.

“Oh, fuck no, you don’t. We’re doing this today.” He grabs my arm and gently pushes me into his apartment. Once I’m inside, he locks the deadbolt from the inside with a key, then pockets it so I can’t escape.

“Wyatt, do you know where I left my keys?” A familiar female voice calls out from the hallway, and I turn and glare at Wyatt.

“Tell me you didn’t.”

Blair steps into the living room and stops in her tracks when she sees me. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in. Hi, Megan. I guess you didn’t expect to find me here, huh?”

At least she has the sense to look ashamed.

“Yes, I am. Wyatt didn’t mention you’d be here.”

“He didn’t know. When he told me you were coming over to talk, I asked if I could have a word with you too.”

“What do you want, Blair?”

“I want to apologize for how I treated you all those years. Not that it changes anything, and you may never forgive me, but I need to try to make this right. I’m so sorry for being so mean, and hateful, and nasty to you. I feel so horrible about it now. Looking back at my behavior now that I’m grown makes me cringe, so I can’t imagine how bad I made you feel. To make matters worse, you never did anything to deserve how I treated you.”

“Then why did you do it? Why did you make my life a living hell every single day?”

“Envy.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were the ultimate package. You’re so beautiful, Megan, but you never acted like you knew it. You were smart—I mean, you were our valedictorian. You were going off to college. Harvard, of all places. Your parents loved you and wanted to spend time with you. Your best friend defended you till the death. When my parents were around enough to talk to me, they compared me to you and told me all the areas where I was lacking. None of that was your fault, but I took it all out on you. I’m so sorry, and if I could go back and change it, I would in a heartbeat.”

“Thank you for saying that, for sharing all that with me.”

“Of course. Let me know if you want to meet for drinks and talk sometime. I’d love just to get to know you. I’ll go now so you two can talk.” She walks to Wyatt and hugs him tight. I hear her whisper “good luck” to him before she releases him.

He walks to the door and lets her out before locking it and putting the key away again. When he turns to me, he shrugs one shoulder and gives me a lop-sided grin. “I have a feeling we’ll both want to run away at some point today.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

His expression turns somber, and he gestures toward the couch. “Make yourself at home. Can I get you anything before we get started?”

“Bottle of water?”

He returns with several bottles and sets them on the coffee table. When he sits beside me, he takes my hands in his and gently strokes them with his thumbs. “You go first.”

I stand and start pacing to release the nervous energy pent up inside me every time I think of that day and the hell that followed. I begin recounting what happened leading up to when I ran into the bathroom at school that morning, narrating it as if all the events happened to someone else, as if I’m not speaking directly to Wyatt. Any other way would be too personal and would force me to accept the terrible truth…

All the elitist, blue blood, spoiled crowd had that video of me…and they were sharing it with whoever wanted to watch.

I had to find Wyatt.

After rinsing my mouth out at the sink, I opened the bathroom door in the middle of a conversation in the hallway just outside.

“That wasn’t you, man?” Billy laughed, still holding his phone up for the crowd to see.

“No, that’s not me,” Wyatt replied angrily.

Then Wyatt looked up and saw me standing there. I was shocked and confused not only by his denial but by how he just threw me to the wolves without a second thought. He wasn’t standing by me. He wasn’t taking up for me. He didn’t demand they delete the video and stop sharing it all over school. He wasn’t the man I fell in love with.

He denied it was him with me in that video, and that implied I’d cheated on him with someone else. That betrayal hurt almost as much as when he sent such a private moment to his friends to watch, as if I were nothing more than his latest conquest.

I was so hurt, and embarrassed, and alone. The whole school ganged up on me, and the one person who was supposed to love me helped them do it. The guilt that was written all over his face when I caught him lying confirmed so much to me.

Billy said Wyatt had sent the video to everyone. How could I give Wyatt the benefit of the doubt after that?

I pulled the phone Wyatt gave me out of my pocket and threw it against the wall as hard as I could. I vaguely remember hearing it smashing to pieces when it hit and fell to the floor. But I’d already started running and didn’t stop until I was out of breath, miles from the school. I don’t even know where I went. Wherever I was, I dropped to my knees and threw up again.

Someone must have called my mom because the next thing I knew, she was picking me up off the ground and helping me into the car. She took me home and cleaned me up. I remember she gave me a couple of pills to calm my hysterics. When I could speak again, I explained what happened…I told her every sordid detail.

She packed a bag for all of us, and we left our house. I barely remember getting in the car and balling up in a fetal position in the backseat. When we reached her sister’s house, she took me straight to the spare bedroom and put me in the bed. She cried and held me all day and night.

My dad came in later that evening and held us both in his arms. None of us slept a wink all night. When the sun started to come up, Dad said he didn’t want me to go back to that school. I wholeheartedly agreed, but with graduation only a month away, I couldn’t very well quit school.

Dad had already talked to the guidance counselor, explained the situation, and they worked out a plan for me to finish my last month as a homebound student. I didn’t have to face anyone that way. I didn’t have to talk to anyone. No one could taunt me. I’d cut off all communication with the outside world. Only the guidance counselor had my new address, and all my work was handled through the mail. I didn’t walk in graduation. I didn’t give my valedictorian speech.

You’d think that was the worst of it, right? Starring in your own porn video that was forwarded to everyone in the school for their viewing enjoyment.

But you’d be wrong.

The worst of it all came later, pushing me deeper into depression and despair. I could barely function, but I had to be there for my mom. You see, my father was the most loving man in the world. His family was his pride and joy. So, seeing me ready to give up on life hurt him more than he could stand.

Wyatt interrupts my tirade and forces me to face him. His hands are on my shoulders, and he shakes me softly. “Megan, can you hear me?”

I blink and look up at him. “What?”

“I need you to talk directly to me. I’m here with you. Don’t shut me out now. You said your father was the most loving man. What do you mean ‘was’?”

“He was so distraught over that video and how it hurt me. He couldn’t fix the situation. He couldn’t fix me. He couldn’t provide for his family. He couldn’t protect us from the terrible people in the world.

“The stress of it all was too much for his health. His blood pressure was out of control, and we didn’t have money for the medication he needed, and he wouldn’t accept any help from my aunt. He thought we’d imposed on her enough by moving in with her. He suffered a stroke and died about two months after we left Savannah.”

Wyatt reacts like I sucker punched him in the gut, falling to the couch in stunned silence. I remember feeling that way when we rushed Daddy to the hospital and waited for the emergency room doctor to give us the terrible news.

“My mom and aunt had left early that morning to get groceries. I walked out of my room and found Daddy. He was sitting in the recliner, unconscious, unresponsive. I screamed and shook him and begged him to wake up. Then I dialed 911 and explained his condition. Mom arrived just as they were loading him in the back of the ambulance. Shock set in on the way to the hospital because I knew…I knew he was gone.”

“Megan…baby…I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I never knew…”

“I know you didn’t, because I made sure of it. Christine was still my best friend, but I couldn’t even talk to her about any of it. I shut everyone out of my life.”

Wyatt buries his face in his hands while he tries to absorb my father’s death and the causes behind it.

“I hadn’t planned to tell you the next part, but I need to…you’re entitled to know and I can’t keep it all bottled up inside me anymore. It’s been killing me slowly, day by day.”

Wyatt looks up at me with haunted eyes. “Is it worse than your dad dying?”

“It’s just as bad.”

“Tell me. I won’t leave you to carry the burden alone for one more second.”

“After we left Savannah and moved in at my aunt’s house, I found out I was pregnant. At first, I didn’t even realize my period was late. All the stress…all the tears…the days I lost in a deep depression. Mom came in my room and demanded I get up and finish my finals early that week. She said I hadn’t worked so hard for that scholarship to throw it all away over a boy.

“So, I sat at the small desk and thumbed through my calendar, looking at the dates each final was due and realized I hadn’t marked when my last period was. Then it hit me that I had written down the last one…I just hadn’t had one recently. I finished all my finals during that one day because I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus after what I had to do next.

“My dad had found work on a small farm nearby and left early in the mornings. My aunt owned her own business and hired my mom as a cashier. When they left for work the next morning, I walked to the drug store and bought a pregnancy test. But I knew it would be positive before I even took the test.”

“Did you abort our baby?” Wyatt whispers, his voice strained.

“No, I didn’t…I miscarried. I lost our baby. I’d been nauseous a lot before I took the test. That was another clue I was more than only stressed. Then I couldn’t keep anything down, day or night. When I finally told my parents I was pregnant a couple of days after I took the test, my mom said she already knew. She took me to the doctor, and they were concerned with my weight loss. They did an ultrasound, and there was no heartbeat. The baby had already died.

“That threw me even deeper into depression. I didn’t eat. I didn’t get out of bed. I wouldn’t talk to anyone. The morning I walked out and found my dad was the first day I’d left my bed in weeks.”

Those scenes played in my mind so often I’d almost become numb to how horrible it really was. When Wyatt looked up at me, tears streamed down his cheeks, and his face distorted in agony. “My God…Megan…I just keep saying I’m sorry, but it doesn’t even come close to how bad I feel. All that time you lost with your dad because of me. All the burdens you’ve carried alone.”

“Daddy came in my room every day when he got home from work. He’d put his arms around me, hug me close to him, and tell me he loved me. I always told him I loved him too. He didn’t die without knowing how much I love him.”

Wyatt wraps his big hand around mine and pulls my palm to his lips. They’re soft and familiar, heating my core and making me miss what we had all over again.

“When I emerged from that depression, that’s when I decided I’d destroy you and anything related to your name. I lost everything. My home, my friends, my high school graduation…all that paled in comparison to losing my dad and our baby. I’d envied you and your friends for most of my life because you had everything money could buy.

“I vowed to take that all away from you. When I graduated from Harvard with top honors, I didn’t celebrate my achievement. I plotted the next move that would topple your empire. Then the next move. Then the next. Vengeance kept me alive and motivated. It made me get out of bed in the morning and kept me working eighty to a hundred hours a week until I succeeded.

“Now you know everything.”

CHAPTER TEN

I walk toward the door, intent on leaving since I’ve said my piece and I’m spent. Reliving all those memories hurts more than I admit, even to myself. Losing my dad was hard enough for me, but it nearly killed my mom. Watching her at his funeral broke my heart all over again, and sealed Wyatt’s fate in my mind. I wanted to annihilate him the way he destroyed my family.

“You can unlock the door and let me go now. Like I said before, it’s over. I’m done with wasting my time on anything to do with you. Start another company. Start over somewhere new. Whatever makes you happy. You won’t find me there.”

“I may know everything about what happened to you, but you don’t know everything, Megan. You need to hear it, and I need to tell you.”

With my hand on the doorknob, I close my eyes and lower my head. “Wyatt, it won’t change anything. We can’t change the past. We can’t change anything that happened. There’s no excuse you can give me for videoing us without asking me then texting it to your friends. It’s unforgivable, Wyatt.”

“You always have been the most stubborn woman.” He stomps over to me, easily lifts me off the floor, and places me in the center of the couch. “If I’m forced to hold you down and make you listen to me, that’s exactly what I’ll do. Or, you can sit here like an adult and hear me out.”

“All right, Wyatt. I promised, so I’ll listen to what you have to say.”

He sits on the coffee table in front of me, his hands rubbing up and down my thighs. The intimate contact takes me back to a time when I welcomed it…when I welcomed his affections.

“I have so many thoughts running through my mind now I don’t even know where to start.” Wyatt looks at me expectantly, no doubt sure I’d bolt away from him at any second.

“Start with when you lied to Billy and said it wasn’t you.”

“Okay, let’s settle that part first. Before you walked out of the bathroom, Billy was taunting me with that video. I hadn’t seen the whole thing, so I didn’t know it showed your face. The short clip I’d seen before he yanked his phone away didn’t show anyone’s face. I thought I could deny it was both of us and stop the rumors right there.”

“What? You took the video and sent it to him!”

“No, I didn’t, babe. Let me explain everything, okay?”

I nod and fold my arms across me.

“I didn’t video us, and I sure as hell didn’t send it to anyone. I didn’t know anything about it until Billy showed me not sixty seconds before you walked out and heard me denying any involvement. Not only was I hit with seeing my girlfriend’s naked body on Billy Brown’s phone, but also knowing our lovemaking was the whole school’s entertainment.

“Then when I saw your face, I knew you’d already seen it. I didn’t know Billy had gotten to you before he did me. I wanted to spare you from it. After you threw your phone and ran away, I pushed past Billy and tried to stop you, but the principal caught me and took me to his office. I was beside myself with worry about you. I couldn’t wait to get out of there and find you. The principal already called my father, who was on his way to the school, and explained that a couple of students had shown him the text came from me.

“When my dad arrived, he was livid. I thought he’d beat me to death on the spot. I swore up and down I didn’t send the video to anyone—that I didn’t even have it to send. My dad took my phone from me and, sure enough, there was the text with the video, sent to most of my contact list. I had no explanation, and I looked guilty as hell. But I was adamant—so much so, the principal was hesitant to expel me until my father looked into it further. Both my father and our principal threatened to press charges against me if I was the one behind it.

“The school faculty walked around every room, took every student’s phone, and deleted the text and the video from it. They warned everyone about the criminal charges for sharing sexually explicit images of a minor.”

Wyatt stands and walks around the living room, deep in thought as he relives that awful time.

“My dad took me home, and I racked my brain on how that could’ve happened. I asked a couple of my close friends, and they both confirmed the texts they received were from me. They thought it was strange, knowing how I felt about you, but they didn’t realize it was me in the video too. They thought it was you with someone else…they assumed we’d broken up and I was lashing out at you.

“That didn’t help my argument with my father and the principal, so I was expelled. The principal called the police to report the video. He said I was facing jail time and being forced to register as a sex offender. Megan, the worst part was, I couldn’t find you anywhere. I went by your house every hour. Knocked on the door. Called your name. I had no way to find you…no way to get in touch with you. It killed me. Not knowing where you were or your state of mind nearly drove me crazy. I called every hospital anywhere near Savannah but I couldn’t get any information out of them.

“The police chief was friends with my dad, so he called and gave my dad a heads up about my impending charges. After three days of no word from you and no leads on how that video was sent from my phone, I went back to the beach house and tore my bedroom apart. I mean, in a fit of anger, I demolished that room. That’s when I found it…”

“Found what?”

“A mole camera was hidden in my entertainment center.”

“Directly in front of your bed…” I feel like I’m going to be sick all over again.

“Yes, exactly. So I took it to my dad and showed him what I’d found. The police traced it and found it had been bought online by one Billy Brown. My dad knew before I did but didn’t tell me…I found out when the police came to the school to arrest Billy. That’s when part of the puzzle started to fall into place.”

“What do you mean?”

“Blair and her limo full of friends were already at the beach house when we arrived after the prom. That video of us was from that night—that was our first and only time in that position if you remember.” He stops and looks at me, heat and desire burning in his eyes. He remembers that night as well as I do.

“Anyway, Blair had been especially quiet during this whole ordeal. About the video. About my expulsion. About my imminent arrest. About Billy’s arrest. So I confronted her. She broke down, sobbing, begging for forgiveness. She swore she had no idea Billy had videoed us.

“He came over to the house to see her late that Sunday night. She snuck him in and didn’t want our parents to find out, or she’d get in a lot of trouble. She said Billy left her room for a little while, and she thought he was in the bathroom. But he snuck into my room and got my phone while I was in the shower, accessed the mole camera via the Internet, and downloaded a portion of the video he’d recorded. Then he sent it from my phone, so it looked like I did it.”

“That. Bastard.”

“Yeah, well, I got him back. His parents got him out of jail on bond, and I kicked his ass. I beat him to a bloody pulp. His dad didn’t even try to stop me. He knew Billy deserved it for what he’d done. I found out later the principal and the guidance counselor had talked to Mr. Brown and told him all about you.

“After that talk, Mr. Brown was even more disgusted with his son. He almost disowned Billy. He demanded an answer from Billy that night in front of me…on their front lawn where I had Billy on his back and had pounded his face with my fists. He wanted to know why Billy had worked so hard to destroy you. Billy admitted he’d always been in love with you but you’d never given him a second glance. Then you fell for me, and that was the ultimate betrayal in his eyes, so he hit us back.”

“I never knew he liked me. He was awful to me.”

“Blair was always in love with Billy. And he was always in love with you. And he used her to hurt you and me. And Blair hated you for being what she couldn’t be.”

I wipe away the tears streaming down my cheeks. So much envy in our little circle. So much useless envy and strife. So much time wasted.

“I went to Harvard to find you,” Wyatt says.

I look up at him, wide-eyed and stunned. “You did what?”

“The first week of class. I looked for you every day all summer. I asked everyone who had anything to do with Montague Manor where your parents were. You vanished into thin air…but I knew you’d be at college. So, all day every day that week, I walked around the campus, looking for you, asking everyone if they knew you. I’d go back to my hotel room after dark and think about you all night.

“Christine saw me there Friday. I didn’t even know she’d planned to go to school there with you.”

“She didn’t. She was just visiting me that day. She wanted to see my dorm room, and we hadn’t spoken all summer. I finally called her when I got settled in.”

He nods his head. “She told me to leave and never come back. She said you’d finally started to come out of the worst depression she’d ever seen anyone in. That you’d been through enough and you didn’t need me to remind you of it when you had your whole future ahead of you. That my being there jeopardized your scholarship and your chance to break free of the Montague Manor chains. As much as it killed me, I couldn’t deny she was right. I had to let you go so you could have a chance at happiness.”

I’m spent. I’m cried out. And I’ve had more than a bellyful of envy, hate, vengeance, and holding onto grudges. I’ve had enough of living in the past and letting it guide my future.

“Thank you for telling me, Wyatt. I’ve been afraid to know the truth for the last ten years. I’ve been afraid it would be worse than what I’ve imagined.”

For all I know, Wyatt could be lying to me about the whole thing. Billy Brown may be completely innocent, but at this point, I don’t even care. I stand again to leave. I’ve heard Wyatt’s side of everything and kept my word.

“Why don’t you eat?” He stands and blocks my exit. Not that I can get out, the door is still locked.

My chin quivers, and my eyes fill with tears. I’d hoped we could end this conversation without this question resurfacing. My reason is irrational, yet as real as anything else in my life.

“Our baby died because I couldn’t feed it. Weeks of depression, staying in bed, barely eating enough to keep myself alive. Why should I eat now?”

The pain etched in his handsome features is directed at me. When he wraps his arms around me and cuddles me in his embrace, the dam inside me breaks free. I cry into his shirt, and he holds me, whispering comforting words over and over. Assuring me it wasn’t my fault. Promising me all will be right again. Swearing he doesn’t blame me for anything. Begging for my forgiveness. Asking me to love him again.

The years of missing him, punishing him, and penalizing myself melt away, and all I feel is how his arms belong around me. His lips feel right pressed against mine. His body was made to join with mine. Our lives were meant to live as one.

He kisses me as if his life depends on it. He devours my mouth as if I’m the very air he breathes, the very sustenance that sustains him. His tongue glides against mine in an erotic dance, pulling me further under his spell and draining me of my wits. But I surrender because there is nothing I’ve wanted more than to feel his body against mine again. To go back to the time when our desire for each other couldn’t be quenched.

He walks me backward until my legs touch the couch. With a practiced hand, he gently pushes me down on my back as he covers my front with his body. His hips curl upward, gliding between my legs and over my clit, instantly increasing my craving for him. I wrap my legs around him and pull him closer to me, pressing his erection against the apex of my thighs.

His unbidden growl stems from the carnal need pushing him for more. He stands, pulling me up with him without the least bit of effort. He cradles me in his arms and carries me to his bedroom. Under his tender touch, he undresses me, caresses me, and leaves wet, hungry kisses all over my body. Everywhere his lips and fingers meet my skin, a fire ignites inside me, demanding more and more.

With his clothes in a pile on the floor, he stands before me, naked and gorgeous. His body is still perfection, but even more so as a full-grown man. His muscles are more defined. He’s thicker and heavier than the boy I knew, and even more potent in his ability to make me want him. I reach for him, gripping his hard cock and stroking him in my hand. He closes his eyes and leans his head back, reveling in my touch. His hips move in time with my pumps until he grasps my hand and stills my movements.

“I can’t wait to be inside you again, Megan. I’ve wanted nothing more than to feel you wrapped around me again for the last ten years. I’m not waiting one more second.”

“Then don’t wait. I’m all yours.”

I watch as he sheaths himself, and he keeps his eyes glued to mine while I watch him. I slide back on the bed, and he crawls over the top of me. With one knee, he parts my legs, and I make room for him. “Are you, Megan?”

“Am I what?”

“All mine?”

He pushes forward, surging into me to the hilt. He groans in pleasure and halts his movement. My inner muscles grip him tightly, and my body adjusts to accept his size. The sudden fullness is pure heaven, and my body curls upward in ecstasy. I use my heels to push against him, urging him to move again.

“Fuck, yes, you’re still all mine. Say it.” He grasps my hair against my skull in his fist and pulls it just hard enough to add a little pain to the pleasure.

“I’m all yours,” I reply in a breathy pant. “I’ve always been all yours.”

He pulls my knees up and wraps his arms around them, driving deeper into me with the change in position. My nails scrape against his skin, screams of pleasure fall from my lips, and sweat beads on my skin. He conquers my will and my body without a fight. I never stood a chance against him. I know that now.

He’s my first love…my only love.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

W e lie together in Wyatt’s bed in the afterglow of our reunion, several rounds later. His fingers trace lines over my face and down my neck. He looks at me so lovingly it makes my heart ache. I thought I hated him when it was just the opposite. I hated that I still loved him after I believed he’d betrayed me.

Today has been a long and emotional one, sharing what I’d been through and learning the complete truth of what happened after I left. Part of me craves the solitude of my apartment and the life I’ve grown accustomed to leading. But I know once I step inside the door, visions of Wyatt will consume my thoughts.

“You’re thinking about leaving me.” His somber expression tugs at my heart.

“How do you always know what I’m thinking?”

“Because I know you better than anyone else, Megan. We’re connected—we always have been, and we always will be.”

“I was thinking about going back to my apartment, yes. But I know as soon as I do, all I’ll do is think about you and miss you all over again. It’s a no-win situation.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. The only winning solution is for you to stay right here where we’re both happy.”

“Stay here and pretend the world outside that locked door doesn’t exist?” I ask and stroke the scruff of his beard.

“That’s not exactly what I meant. We can start building a life together now, Megan.”

I slide out of bed and pull his T-shirt over my head before isolating myself in his bathroom. I enjoy about thirty seconds of solitude before he barges in. Naked. And he leans against the vanity without showing the least bit of discomfort.

“What are you doing?” He quirks one eyebrow at me.

“I was going to pee before you interrupted me.”

“No, you’re running from me. Again. I thought we were moving past this. The talk this morning. The day we’ve spent in bed, making love, talking, enjoying each other, spending time together. We’re getting back on common ground—finally. We have another chance at happiness together. Don’t throw that away.”

Can I do this? Can I allow happiness in and discard my life of seclusion and loneliness? Am I capable of allowing someone in again and opening myself up to being hurt again?

My head is a jumbled mess, and I can’t think straight around him. Naked. So I turn and walk out of the bathroom, grab my clothes, and begin dressing. Wyatt comes up behind me and takes my pants out of my hand before I can stop long enough to put them on. I turn and stare him down.

“Give me back my pants.”

“No. I like you better without them on.”

I fight not to smile, and he knows it. “Wyatt, if I leave here without my pants, I’ll get arrested.”

“If you leave here without your pants and another man sees you, I’ll get arrested, and you’ll get your ass tanned.”

Now I do laugh. I can’t help it. “All right, you’re holding me hostage by keeping my pants and locking me in the apartment. I really should be going now.”

“Nope.” He shakes his head and hides my pants behind his back. He’s pushing me, daring me.

I suddenly remember his pants are in the bedroom and the key to the locked door is in them. Giving him a sweet smile, I approach him, raise up on my toes, and kiss him. He returns my kiss, but I feel the muscles in his arm tighten as he grips my pants. Before he realizes my trick, I race past him to the bedroom and grab his pants off the floor.

He’s close behind me, blocking the doorway with his body and watching me with those too keen eyes. When I fish the key out of his pocket, I lift it up in victory with a triumphant, “Aha!”

Then I realize what I’m holding in my hands. My knees buckle underneath me, and I crumple to the floor, staring at my hand.

“I don’t think you understand,” he states softly. “I moved here for you. I waited for you to return to Savannah after college, but you never did. You know I never wanted to run Weston Commercial…that’s never been in my plans. But you…my plans have included you from day one.

“I found you again about a year ago, and I’ve watched and waited to make my move again since then. You were building a name for yourself on Wall Street. Successful brokers tend to get the attention of the wealthiest clients. Maybe you’ve forgotten that the Savannah wealthy families buy and sell on the stock market the same as the New York wealthy do.

“I’ll never admit to this, and if you tell anyone, I’ll lie through my teeth and deny it…but I may have stalked you a little online over the years. I may have watched your companies’ portfolios and investments. I may have seen the amount of Weston Commercial shares you’ve bought over the years and figured out what your ultimate plan was.”

My ears hear his words, but I can’t move my eyes from what I’m holding in my hand.

“I may have known about your relationship with Russell. I may have even watched to see how often he showed up at your apartment and tried to figure out how important he was to you. In my greenest with envy times, I may have contemplated one thousand and one different ways to dispose of his body so he would never be found again. But I saw through you, Megan. I figured out how you kept him at arms-length. He never had your heart. You never shared your soul with him. And he never knew you as well as I do.

“Then when you’d amassed enough money on your own, you swooped in and planned a hostile takeover of my company. You thought I’d put up a fight and keep you from taking the company out from under me. I didn’t expect to see you in person—I’ll give you that. When you walked in that morning, I thought I was dreaming. But my mind had been made up for a long time before that day. You did me a favor by taking my job away from me.

“You needed your revenge to settle the score. You said it yourself—you needed to tear down that name and all that it stood for in your mind. But now you need to remember what else my name stands for—the man you love, and spent time with, and planned to build a life with. I’m still that man, and I still want that life with you. Over the last ten years, you’ve never been far from my thoughts. I’ve always known we’d end up back together again.”

The keychain in my hand is the one I gave him all those years ago. The one that reads “I love” on the front and has my name etched in the silver on the back.

The heart with the matching arrow I’ve carried in my purse for ten years.

“Wyatt.” My voice catches on his name as I finger the slightly worn gift.

“You’re surprised I’ve kept it? You shouldn’t be. I love you, Megan. Regardless of what’s happened over the last ten years, you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

I look up at him from my spot on the floor, and with more sincerity than I’ve ever spoken before, I tell him the truth.

“I love you, Wyatt. More than anything in the world, I love you. I’ve kept the arrow with me every day. I’ve carried you with me everywhere I’ve gone.”

He drops to his knees and joins me, his kisses covering my face.

Three Years Later

Wyatt and I are lounging on the beach in front of The Atlantis on Paradise Island, where we’ve spent the last two weeks celebrating our two-year wedding anniversary.

“Do you realize, when we turn seventy-three, we’ll celebrate forty-two years married?” I ask Wyatt.

“We’ll still be on our honeymoon then too.” He winks and takes a sip of his cocktail. “It’s really a shame you can’t try this. It tastes so good.” He reaches over and rubs my slightly protruding, suntan-oiled belly. “We’ll just have to come back here when you’re not pregnant. But that may take a few years because this look thoroughly turns me on.”

A giggle escapes before I can reprimand him for taunting me with the tropical drink. “You can try to keep me pregnant, Wyatt. Practice makes perfect, and I certainly won’t stop you from practicing.”

He moves over to my chaise lounge chair, laying on his stomach with his head resting on my pregnant stomach. He looks up at me, his eyes swimming with affection. “I love you, Mrs. Weston.”

“I love you so much, Mr. Weston.”

I think about how that name used to bring me such pain and envy. But now, it’s my name. It’ll be our children’s name. It’s the name that will bring my brightest future.

And they lived happily ever after.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

T his part is the hardest part of the book to write because I don’t want to leave anyone out or make anyone feel unappreciated. I am so grateful for everyone who supports me in this endeavor. Singling people out for their specific support is my way of saying an extra special THANK YOU for their unwavering help.

First and foremost, I want to thank my Lord and Savior for His continued forgiveness of a sinner.

To my husband: I love you. Thank you for putting up with the late nights, long weekends, and the less-than-stellar kept house. Writing the book didn’t help much with any of that, either.

To my reader group: You are the best. Thank you for being my beta readers, my sounding boards, my biggest supporters, and the all-around best people in the world. Love all of you!

Michelle Dare, you have talked me off the ledge too many times to count. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re one of my closest friends and one of the few people I trust. Love you, my friend!

Silla Webb, thank you for reading and editing for me on such short notice. I love your face, lady!

Bloggers, thank you so much for everything you do to support my books and tell your readers about them. You make this dream possible and I’ll never forget that.

Readers, without your support and willingness to take a chance on a new author, none of us would have a reason to do this. These characters live and breathe in our imagination and they come to life through you, through your love for them, and through your word of mouth. Thank you for reading authors everywhere, but a special thanks from this author for your support.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A.D. Justice is happily married to her husband of more than twenty-five years. They have two sons together and enjoy a wide variety of outdoor activities. A.D. has a full-time job by day, with a BS degree in Organizational Management and an MBA in Health Care Administration. Writing gives her the outlet she needs to live in the fantasy world that is a constant in her mind.

Thank you for reading and supporting A.D.’s books. Please take a moment to leave a review of this work.

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