THAT MAN: Holiday Box Set Books 1-5

by Nelle L’Amour

  And with that, I knew why I loved my old man so much. I did something I hadn’t done in a very long time. I gave him a hug.

  Chapter 20

  Jennifer

  TGIF. Thank God, it was Friday. Finally, the end of the day rolled along. It had been one of the most emotionally and physically challenging weeks of my life. A rollercoaster. A close second to the week following my almost-rape in college. Between getting around on crutches, pitching Gloria, and dealing with a broken heart that showed no signs of healing, I truthfully wasn’t sure how I’d made it through. In fact, I felt more broken than I had on Monday. I should have been thrilled I’d won over Gloria and Gloria’s Secret was going to sponsor my block of programming—and that was just for starters. But the truth: the victory was short-lived. The mere touch of Blake’s lips on mine had set my heart on fire. My whole body was ablaze with an ugly wildfire that couldn’t be put out. It kept destroying everything in its path. I was charred and marred. Tears burned my eyes as I wrote up a summary of our meeting—the last thing I had to do before heading home.

  Libby was flying to Chicago straight from work to do focus groups there, so I was going to have the house to myself. I had little to look forward to except getting my stitches out on Saturday. I’d be able to walk again on my own two feet and return to some form of normalcy. With the way my crippled heart weighed against my chest, I just didn’t know what my new normalcy would be.

  A little after six o’clock, I packed up my bags. I was missing one thing. My glasses. My eyes darted around the office. I frantically checked under my paperwork and then beneath my desk. I then opened and slammed shut a few drawers. They were nowhere to be found. And not being able to see too well without them didn’t help a bit. Damn it. Where the hell had I left them? In the cafeteria? In the conference room? In the ladies’ room? They could be anywhere. Giving up, I slipped on my backpack, which was roomy enough to hold my laptop, and hobbled out of my office on my crutches. Though I’d gotten used to them, I was so looking forward to saying goodbye to them tomorrow. Fellow workers I passed on my way out bid me good night and wished me a great weekend—yeah, right. As I neared the lobby, I heard footsteps running up to me from behind.

  “Jen, wait.”

  Fuck. Blake. I hobbled faster. Giant steps. I’d gotten good with these sticks.

  He caught up to me and stopped me in my tracks. “You left these in the conference room,” he said breathily as he lowered my glasses to the top of my head. His thumbs grazed my temples and made my skin prickle.

  “Thank you.” My voice was glacial.

  He brushed a loose strand of hair that had fallen onto my forehead away. I clutched my crutches to steady myself. My body was a quivering mess.

  “And you left this.” He reached inside the breast pocket of his jacket. My heart raced, knowing what was coming.

  “This is yours,” he said softy, holding the heart-shaped tourmaline necklace in his palm.

  It took all I had not to burst into tears. “I don’t want your heart, Blake.”

  His eyes burned into mine. “But it belongs to you.”

  “No, Blake. Your heart doesn’t belong to anyone.”

  He pinched his lips thin. “Just let me put it on you.”

  “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

  Defeated and crestfallen, he slipped the necklace back into his pocket.

  Tears were verging; I needed to get away from him. “Excuse me, please, but I’ve got to go.”

  “Can I, at least, give you a ride home?” His gaze held me captive.

  “No need,” I gritted, my heart aching. Without saying good night, I hopped away as fast as I could to the building entrance. Hopefully, Chaz would be waiting outside with his Jeep. Libby had arranged for her brother to take me home in her absence. I could always count on Libby.

  There was no getting away from Blake; he ran after me.

  “Jen—” He held me back. I jerked away and almost stumbled.

  “Please…” He sounded desperate.

  “Fuck you,” I barked as I kicked open a door with my good foot and made my escape.

  I thought it would feel good to say the two words I’d longed to say all day. It didn’t. It hurt. Bad.

  Chapter 21

  Jennifer

  Thank goodness, Chaz was waiting for me in front of the building. He helped me into the Jeep and laid my crutches on the back seat. Coming straight from his studio, he was dressed in a tight T-shirt and studded jeans. The up-and-coming fashion designer always looked fashionable. After fastening my seat belt, I glanced out my window—half expecting Blake to still be at the entrance watching me. He wasn’t. My heart sunk as we pulled away.

  I hadn’t seen Chaz since the Conquest Broadcasting Christmas Ball. Expecting him to ask me how my holiday had been, he instead turned to me and gawked. “Jenny-Poo, are you going emo?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You look suicidal.”

  As we existed the parking lot, the dam holding back my tears burst. “Oh, Chaz, I’m a mess,” I sobbed out.

  “It’s that man.” He handed me a box of tissues from the dashboard, and I dabbed my face.

  “You know about Blake?”

  “I know about everything in this town. Libster told me what’s going on.”

  I had made Libby swear she would tell no one at work about Blake and me, but I couldn’t hold anything against her for sharing our relationship with her brother.

  “Chaz, he broke my heart.”

  “Because of that video?”

  Though that was only partly the truth, I nodded.

  “Puh-lease. That was so frickin’ brilliant.”

  “How could you say that?”

  “He saved you from becoming Mrs. Douchebag.”

  “But the way he handled it was so deceitful.”

  “What did you expect him to do? Knock on your door and say, ‘Oh by the way, honey, I saw your dweeb fiancé making it with his hygienist?’”

  I blew my runny nose. He had a point.

  “Jenny-Poo, get real. That man is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. He’s sex on two legs. He could make a dyke want a dick. If I could, I’d fuck him in a New York minute.”

  Despite my sorry state, I almost laughed.

  “And he’s crazy in love with you.”

  “How do you know?” I sniffed.

  “Honey, I saw the way he kissed you at that Christmas party. No man kisses anyone like that unless he’s madly in love. It was fierce. And I saw the way he looked at you at that art gallery opening.”

  The memories of those two events flooded my head. Another torrent of tears touched down on my face.

  “But, Chaz, he’s not in love with me anymore. He’s totally over me.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I saw a photo of him kissing one of his hook-ups at some big event the other night. He was all over her.”

  “Shut up. That’s so not true. I happened to have been there. That bitch was all over him. I should have slapped her.”

  Chaz went on to explain every livid detail of the encounter. Every muscle in my body clenched. Oh, God. I’d made a terrible mistake. I should have trusted him. Believed him. But now it was too late.

  “Chaz, I’ve totally fucked up. I’ve been so unforgiving and mean. I didn’t believe him and told him to fuck off. He’s so done with me.”

  “Honey, it doesn’t happen that way. He’s not.”

  “Oh, Chaz, what should I do?”

  “Call him right now and tell him you know what happened. And tell him you love him.”

  I so loved Chaz. He had given me a glimmer of hope. I immediately pulled my phone out from my backpack and speed-dialed Blake’s office number.

  His phone went immediately to his voice message. Mrs. Cho’s accented voice sounded in my ear. Instead of leaving a message, I simply hung up.

  “He’s not in the office,” I glumly told Chaz.

  “Girl, what are you waiting for? Call
his cell.”

  Blake always had his iPhone with him. Sometimes in the wrong places and at the wrong time. But I was past that. Without wasting a second, I speed-dialed that number.

  His phone rang and rang and rang. Please, please, please pick up, Blake.

  No answer. My heart sunk to my stomach. He was ignoring me. He didn’t want to speak to me. I was right; it was all over. Finally, the call went to his voice mail. The sound of his virile velvety voice sent a shiver to the base of my spine. The phone shook in my hand as tears spilled on the screen. At the end of his message, I forced my voice to get past the painful lump in my throat.

  “Please—”

  My message cut off before I could even say his name. My phone had died. Shit. I’d lost my connection.

  “Chaz, my phone just died.” Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

  “Use mine.”

  “No, it’s okay. We’re almost at the house. I’ll charge it up and call him from there.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yes. I’ll call him.”

  “And then you’re going to call me right away and tell me everything.”

  “I will.” Trembling, I put my cell phone back into my backpack and pulled out my house keys.

  Five minutes later, we pulled up to the Spanish cottage I shared with Libby. The lights were off. Chaz helped me out of the car and handed me my crutches. He escorted me to the front door. The temperature had dropped. A thick cloud shrouded the full moon, making the darkened sky eerie. A shudder ran through me. It was just like the night of my sophomore year—the night I was almost raped. I forced the painful memory away as I inserted a key into the lock.

  “Do you want to have sushi with me later?” Chaz asked as I unlocked the door, balancing on my crutches. “I have a Groupon for Sushi Roku.”

  Chaz knew how much I loved sushi, something I’d never eaten in Boise. But tonight, I was in no frame of mind to go out to a chic, celebrity-frequented restaurant where people went to see and be seen. And maybe, just maybe, I’d see Blake tonight.

  “I’ll take a rain check.”

  “Deal. When Libster comes back, we’ll all go out—including lover boy.”

  “Sure.” I quirked a little smile, covering up my doubts about Blake. I let Chaz hug me good night before entering the house.

  The first thing I did when I hopped inside was turn on the lights. A roomful of shabby chic flea market finds came into sight and warmed me. It felt good to be home. Away from the office. I labored over to the couch where I unloaded my heavy backpack. I grabbed my cell phone and slipped it into a pocket. Crutches made carrying even the smallest things impossible. My stomach growled. I was hungry. I’d hardly eaten a thing all day.

  I hobbled into the kitchen. It was unusually drafty. I turned on the light and noticed we’d accidentally left the window open. Closing it, I headed to the counter where I plugged my cell phone into the charger. It would take a minute or so for a signal to appear. My next stop: the refrigerator. Balancing on my crutches hands-free, I swung open the door. There wasn’t a stitch of food, but at least, there was a half-empty bottle of Two Buck Chuck. It would have to do. Maybe some wine would help me relax and build up the courage to call Blake again. I reached into the fridge and wrapped my fingers around the smooth green glass. As I slid it off the shelf, a powerful hand clamped my neck. I gasped. The bottle slipped out of my hand and crashed onto the tiled floor. The sound of shattering glass exploded in my ear. But I couldn’t look down. A horrific reality assaulted me. Someone was attacking me. An intruder. My heart pounded and I could barely breathe as his grip around my neck tightened painfully. Terror filled every crevice of my body.

  I wanted to scream, but my vocal chords were paralyzed. What did it matter? No one would hear my scream anyway. Chaz was long gone. And our house was sandwiched between a deserted parking lot and an empty foreclosure. No one even walked their dogs our way.

  Shaking all over, I felt my intruder tug at my ponytail, so hard I cried out in pain. He breathed in my ear.

  “You’re finally going to pay for what you did, you fucking cunt.”

  I instantly recognized the voice.

  “Do you remember this?”

  A snippet of dark, silky hair brushed across my lips. My hair.

  Oh God, no. It was him!

  Chapter 22

  Blake

  I stopped at a flower shop on my way to Jennifer’s house. Not far from my office, it was one of my mother’s favorites. I had called in my order. A dozen of the most beautiful long stemmed pussy pink roses they had. And to my amazement, they even had the balloon in stock I coveted. A big SpongeBob balloon with “I LOVE YOU!” written on it.

  While the jovial florist artfully arranged the roses in a large crystal vase, I wrote a note. I had thought about what to write in the car and just knew it was going to blow my tiger away.

  My beautiful Tiger~

  There once was a player named Blake,

  Who found true love over Christmas break.

  But when the stupid boy fucked up,

  The girl he loved simply bucked

  And left the poor bloke with a major case of heartache.

  Be like your hero, SpongeBob, and accept me with all my faults. Love me with your heart the way I love you.

  ♥nly yours~SpongeBlake NoPants

  Beneath my note, I drew a picture of a SpongeBob look-alike. SpongeBlake. Instead of wearing those dorky shorts, he sported a big cock. I scribbled a few more hearts around my drawing and then admired my creation. You know what? Maybe I wasn’t a Picasso or a poet, but I had talent. I couldn’t wait to take my tiger into my arms.

  The florist slipped my note into a tall plastic card holder and inserted it into the vase. The SpongeBob balloon, held down by a weight, soared in the air, almost touching the ceiling.

  Eagerly, I dipped my hand into my slacks pocket where I always kept my credit card and iPhone. My pulse quickened. The credit card was there all right, but my phone wasn’t. Damn it. I must have left it at my office. I quickly paid for the flowers and then hurried out of the shop with the vase in my hand. I couldn’t be without my cell phone over the weekend. Carefully placing the vase on the floor below the passenger seat, I put my Porsche in gear and headed back to my nearby office. Zooming down traffic-free Olympic Boulevard, I got there in no time.

  Sure enough, the phone was on my desk. I hastily checked my messages. There were a dozen new emails and texts. All of them from my Vegas affiliate manager, Vera Nichols. And all of them marked URGENT, asking me to call her. Perplexed, I immediately speed-dialed her number. She picked up on the first ring. Her voice sounded panic-driven.

  “Oh, thank God, you called me, Blake. I’ve been trying to reach you for the past half hour.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Don Springer escaped from jail this afternoon. I just found out.”

  My heart slammed against my ribs. “Fuck.”

  “There’s a massive manhunt out for him.”

  “Do they have any idea where he is?”

  “No. He stole a car, and he may be armed and dangerous.”

  “Vera, I want you and your family to check into a hotel immediately. Don’t worry about the cost. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thank you, Blake.”

  “Where’s Eddie?”

  “He’s still in the hospital.”

  “Call the hospital and tell them what’s going on. Order security. And take care of his ex if she’s still there.”

  “Will do.” She paused. “Blake, he could be anywhere. Be careful.”

  “I will.” And then an alarm went off inside me.

  “Call me if you hear anything.” I ended the call and immediately called Jennifer. She needed to know. And I needed to know she was all right.

  Her phone rang and rang. No answer. Fuck. She was ignoring me. Or maybe, just maybe, she’d misplaced her cell phone like I had. Or it was turned off. I couldn’t blame her. She thought I was a prick. As I despondent
ly slipped my cell phone into my slacks pocket, a horrifying thought crossed my mind. My heart hammered.

  Jesus Christ. Had he gotten to her?

  I raced out of my office to my car.

  Chapter 23

  Jennifer

  His repulsive tongue licked my inner ear. I squirmed, but his powerful grip around my neck held me fast. Oh God! The man who had almost raped me in college was back. And I’d just made a startling, mind-shattering discovery. It was Don Springer! To my absolute shock, they were one and the same person. Blake had told me he was in jail, but he must have escaped.

  He buried his head in my hair and inhaled. “Cherries and vanilla. Right?”

  I nodded.

  “Say it, bitch!”

  “Yes. Cherries and vanilla.” My voice was so small I could hardly hear myself.

  “How could I forget?” He inhaled again. “So, it looks like you had a little accident.”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Soon you won’t ever be walking. And you won’t be needing crutches.”

  He squeezed his arm around my neck, so tightly I couldn’t breathe. My heart was beating a mile a minute and my mind was racing. Think, Jen, think! An impulsive idea flew into my head. It was worth a shot. I had no choice. He was suffocating me. Gasping for air, I silently prayed for my life. Then as hard as I could, I stabbed the tip of my right crutch onto his foot.

  “OW! You fucking cunt!” Moaning with pain, he let go of my neck and bent down to rub his throbbing instep.

  Yes! Clutching my crutches, I escaped, hobbling away from him as fast as I could. I had to get to the front door. To safety. And scream for help outside. Maybe even drive away. Then, I remembered my car keys were hanging in the kitchen. I thought about dropping the crutches, but wasn’t sure if hobbling on my bad foot with its boxing glove sized bandage would be any easier. Or faster.

  Panting, I made it into the living room. Heavy footsteps were approaching from behind me.

  “Get back here, you cunt!”