Completing Beauty: Books 1-3

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Completing Beauty: Books 1-3 Page 6

by Stella Andrews


  She fiddles in her purse and pulls out a business card and standing up, heads across the room and hands it to the surprised attorney. Then, without even looking at her family, she walks from the room with a straight back and a bravery that makes my heart swell.

  Her mom turns back to Mr. Featherstone and says tightly, “Finish it.”

  As he starts to speak, I slip out of the room. Nobody sees me go and I only have one aim in mind. Find Angelica and check she’s ok. The rest can wait because if I know her, her world has just been turned upside down and she won’t know what to do about it.

  The door slams as I make my way into the hallway and I see Martha looking after her seemingly upset. I don’t stop to ask and just head after her and see her racing toward her truck. As she reaches for the door, I place my hand over hers. “Angelica. Stop.”

  Spinning around, she says angrily, “It’s fucking Angel, you idiot. Angelica died when her heart was ripped from her by a man who should have been better. A man she trusted and thought was everything. As it turns out that man was just like all the rest and a total dipshit.”

  “A dipshit?”

  “Yes, a fucking dipshit, and I’m looking at him now.”

  She puts her hands on her hips and yells, “What I don’t understand is why you’re out here at all. I mean, the woman you are supposed to be madly in love with is sitting inside probably wondering where her devoted boyfriend is. Instead, you’re out here chasing after someone who forgot you five years ago because you are a fucking dipshit who she can’t stand the mere mention of.”

  Despite everything I want to laugh and she knows it because she tosses her hair back and says ominously, “You’re a jerk, Sebastian and everyone knows it. Now fuck off back to your bad choice in life and leave me to get on with mine.”

  “No!”

  “No - are you serious?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Angel and listen to me, or so help me I’ll put you over my knee and spank you out here in broad daylight.”

  My words have the desired effect because just for a second she is speechless. Then she leans forward and sneers, “I’d like to see you fucking try.”

  With a quick flick of my wrist, I pull her toward me and then to my surprise she catches me with a move that shows she’s learned a thing or two and frees herself and pushes me hard with a force that shows the strength of the woman as she snarls, “How dare you lay your unwelcome hands on me. Don’t you ever touch me again because then I will have to kill you.”

  “Kill me, you’re such a drama queen.”

  “A drama queen, am I? Well, let me tell you, I don’t take kindly to men forcing themselves on me so be warned. Keep your distance and I may spare you. Touch me again and I’ll break your fucking arm, followed by your legs and finish with your neck, got it?”

  I feel the tension between us that she is trying hard to disguise with words and as she catches her breath, I reach out and push her hard against the truck and fisting her hair in my hands, I punish her bold filthy mouth with mine and do what I’ve been aching to do for five, long torturous years - lose myself and all my principles for just one stolen kiss with the woman I love.

  I almost think I’ve achieved the impossible and reversed time as we share a kiss. Not the first and definitely not the last if I get my way. Then, without any forewarning, I find myself falling to the ground clutching my balls as she delivers a knockout punch that steals the breath from my body. The pain clouds my mind as she breaks away and slams the door on me before reversing off in a hail of gravel, leaving me gasping for air.

  By the time the pain subsides she’s gone and all that’s left is the realization I am ruined forever because despite what happened next, that kiss reinforced everything I’ve known since she left. I love her and always have and now it’s up to me to make things right if I stand a chance of winning her back.

  Chapter 11

  Angel

  I called him a dipshit. Great, way to go Angel, of all the things I could have said, I called him a dipshit.

  Groaning, I punch the steering wheel and raise my finger at the man who dared sound his horn as I pull out on him. Dipshit. For fuck’s sake.

  Strangely that’s all I can focus on as I drive, trying to create as much distance as possible between us and my fingers fly to my lips to touch the place where his fell. We kissed. I can’t believe we shared a kiss after all these years.

  I feel so angry with myself for loving every second of it and hate the weakest part of me that wanted more. Then I despise the woman in me who wasn’t content to stop there. I wanted him so badly I could have forgiven him the pain he inflicted on me just for a few moments of something so intoxicating it makes me an addict desperate for their next fix. Sebastian Stone is my preferred drug of choice and it will kill me in the end. I know that, which is what made me run. I can’t let him inside my head, never again. It will finish me off forever but we kissed, and it felt as if I was where I belonged.

  The tears start to fall as I feel the loss all over again. How could he have done what he did and choose my sister over me? As betrayals go, it was the ultimate one and now I’m right back where we started because I still want him. Hell, I crave him like the oxygen I need to survive. I close my eyes and see him. I always have and in a moment of weakness I let him inside my head again. Now’s who the dipshit?

  It’s funny how he’s the first thing I think of after the knockout punch my father delivered. The air leaves my lungs as the words of his will sink in. The company - he left it to me. Why would he do that? I can’t believe it because I don’t know the first thing about it. What do I do? Take him up on his kind offer, or let my hated sister take charge and watch our inheritance disappear along with the company inside a year. Should I just let her have it along with him while I walk away leaving them to a happy ever after? It may be for the best because staying would only set me on their path on a daily basis.

  My mind shifts back to that kiss and the tears splash onto the steering wheel as I think about what I’ve lost. We were so happy and so in love which is why it doesn’t make sense. He chose her.

  Wiping my tears away with the back of my hand, I struggle to make sense of my thoughts. I need to decide quickly though because this is one of those forks in the road that has consequences.

  The attorney’s words echo around my brain as I think about what they mean. Thirty days to make an important decision and emotion needs to be discarded in favor of hard facts. Can I do this, can I really take charge of a company I know nothing about? Knowing my father, he’s left nothing to chance and there is more to this than meets the eye.

  I think I must drive around for hours because the day soon turns to night. As I turn onto the dusty track that leads to the cabin, I feel tired, weary and hungry. Maybe sleep is the answer and when I wake up everything will make sense. I certainly hope so because I don’t know what on earth to do next and have nobody to ask? I could make a call and run it through with my new family. Ryder would know what to do and it’s tempting. However, I rely on the Reapers way too much already and I need to prove my self-worth and make this decision based on what I want, not what’s the right thing to do. Can I walk away? I already know the answer to that before my head hits the pillow.

  Mr. Featherstone is as good as his word and emails the details of daddy’s will across and I spend the next few days poring over every paragraph. Luckily, there is enough food in the cabin to keep me going for weeks, so I don’t move and just study every word of a bitter and twisted man’s last wish. The thing I love the most is that my family will be reliant on the company doing well. It strikes me that if I ran the company into the ground, we would all end up with nothing. It’s tempting, so tempting and I relish the images of mom and Anastasia’s faces as I inform them there are no profits to keep them in the lifestyle they love. Hmm, maybe I could demand they actually work for once—for me. Yes, that would be fun. However, even the thought of having contact with them is a punishment not worth contemplating, so my
mind runs in circles as I struggle to decide on the right thing to do.

  Exactly one week later since the will was read, I make contact with Mr. Featherstone.

  The next day we meet and I sign my life away.

  Then at 8 am the very next morning, I park my truck in the parking space that has my father’s name on it and walk with purpose toward the revolving door of Johnson’s plastics. It’s time to start work.

  The minute I enter the polished reception of my father’s company, I almost turn and head back outside. Any doubts I had resurface and laugh in my face. What was I thinking? I can’t do this, I’m no chairman, hell, I was serving drinks in a bar a few weeks ago and now I’m bold enough to think I can run a company the size of this with no experience. It’s a nonsense.

  The receptionist looks up with curiosity as I make my way across the polished floor and I know I look the part if nothing else. My tailored suit is fitted, and the skirt falls just above the knee. The crisp white shirt I’m wearing is smart but unbuttoned just enough to preserve my modesty but demonstrate my femininity. My hair hangs long down my back and my makeup provides the mask I hide behind as I say in a strong voice to disguises my nerves, “Good morning, I’m Angel Johnson and have come to take my father’s place. Please can you arrange the necessary security clearance and direct me to his office?”

  Her eyes widen and she looks at me in disbelief. I give her a moment to process the information and just stare at her with a hard expression before she stutters, “Um… of course… please accept my condolences, Miss. Johnson for your loss.”

  I just nod as I watch her trembling fingers punch something on her computer and then she says into her headset, “Excuse me, sir, this is reception. I have a Miss. Johnson here who is… um… here to take Mr. Johnson’s place.”

  She listens and I see the relief in her eyes as she passes the burden onto somebody else and visibly relaxes as she turns to me and says kindly, “Somebody will be down shortly to escort you upstairs.”

  She pushes a book toward me and says sweetly, “Please can I ask you to sign in until we arrange your ID and security clearance.”

  I do as she says and then take a seat as I wait for whoever she called. All around me the workers arrive and head for their place of work and I wonder about their lives. What they do, their families - their lives. This company provides the wages that make those lives bearable and I wonder if they are paid well for turning up here every day. As I sit and watch, it heaps a whole load of responsibility onto my shoulders as I feel the burden that’s been thrust on them weighing me down. The self-doubts creep in and my breathing comes fast, reminding me I’m way out of my depth. What was I thinking, this isn’t a game, people’s lives are at stake? Maybe I should just leave and let Anastasia bear this burden because I’m not sure I can see it through.

  “Miss. Johnson?”

  Looking up, I see curiosity in the eyes of a smart woman looking at me with a kind expression. She smiles, and it settles my nerves a little as she says kindly, “I’m pleased to meet you. My name’s Dora and I am—sorry—was, your father’s personal assistant. Please may I extend my most sincere condolences for your loss? He was a…”

  “Bastard.”

  I see the shock in her eyes and almost laugh out loud. Standing up, I smooth down my skirt and smile. “It’s ok, Dora, you don’t have to pretend around me. We both know what he was like and I must give you credit for sticking this job out, it can’t have been easy.”

  I watch her lips twitch and hold out my hand. “You can call me Angel; I’m pleased to meet you.”

  She grasps my hand and shakes it warmly and then nods toward the bank of elevators. “Follow me and I’ll show you to your office. I expect you have many questions and I will try to do my best to answer them.”

  I follow her and feel my heart settle a little. She seems nice, not what I expected at all. Maybe this won’t be so bad, she can fill me in on how things work and as soon as I can, we will start advertising this position because I’m not deluded enough to think I can actually do this. No, as soon as possible, I am hiring someone who can and intend on just setting things up so this company runs itself. Then I’ll sit back and watch the profits roll in while I get on with my life—my way. Yes, my mind was made up somewhere in the early hours because this is my big chance and I’m not going to waste it. I will prove my daddy wrong when he said he was disappointed with his family. I am going to do what’s right for me and me alone and to hell with the lot of them.

  Chapter 12

  Angel

  Dora seems pleasant enough. I follow her into the elevator and watch as she presses the button for the top floor. Typical. I’m guessing my father set himself up in his ivory tower relishing the fact the workers were literally beneath him. As we travel past the many floors, I try to ease the tension that’s building, mainly inside me and say brightly, “How long have you worked here, Dora?”

  “Ten years.”

  “Wow, you deserve a medal.”

  She laughs softly. “Not really. I started as a junior secretary in the Accounts department and gradually worked my way up.”

  “Do you like working here?”

  “I do as it happens. Mr. Johnson was demanding but diligent. Mainly I like my co-workers and as jobs go, it’s not a bad one.”

  “Yes, you’ve summed up my father perfectly, demanding, definitely and diligent was a word created to describe him. I expect the staff are worried now he’s gone, I mean, nobody likes change, right?”

  “I suppose so.”

  She smiles, and it strikes me that she doesn’t seem bothered at all. In fact, it must be weird for her talking to somebody who has blown in off the street and made herself in charge. Credit to Dora, nothing appears to faze her.

  The elevator reaches its destination and my heart thumps as I follow her outside. The marble tiled floor, indicates that my father liked the finer things and the painted walls are bright and welcoming. We pass various doors and I see brass name plates on them and yet I don’t recognize a single one of them. Come to think of it, none of us knew what our father did when he left in the morning. I feel a little excited to find out and discover the man the people inside this building knew far better than his own family.

  Finally, we reach his office because the name outside reveals it. Dora stops and smiles and to my surprise raises her hand to knock. She looks almost apologetic as a deep voice shouts, “Come in.”

  As she pushes the door open, my jaw hits the floor because sitting behind my father’s desk, looking so cocky it makes my heart bleed, is Sebastian Stone.

  I barely hear the words they exchange before Dora leaves, closing the door softly behind her. All I can think of is the pain twisting inside me as I see the cocky son of a bitch staring at me, looking so hot I almost want to rip my clothes off and demand he takes me right here on that desk. However, that would be over my dead body because I would rather kill myself than allow him near me after what he did, so instead, I use words to hide behind and snarl, “You’re in my seat.”

  He sits back and appraises me which irritates the hell out of me as he looks me up and down. I feel stripped bare by that look as he rakes me from head to toe and leaves me panting inside. He always was good-looking but the last five years have developed him into some kind of Adonis. His sharp suit hangs well on him and the white shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of hard flesh makes my knees weak. The stubble sits well on his face and his dark eyes flash as he shoots me a look loaded with so much desire it takes my breath away. Then he smiles, but it has no humor in it and says in a deep voice, “Sit.”

  He gestures to the seat in front of the desk and I snarl, “I’m not a dog for you to command. How dare you sit in my chair and issue me orders as if you’re in charge? Now get out and don’t come back.”

  “Sit!”

  I stare at him incredulously and his eyes twinkle making me so mad I could rip my stiletto off and embed it in his skull from across the room.
Taking a few deep calming breaths, I say in a low controlled voice, “I asked you nicely and still you sit there issuing your orders like the complete idiot you are. Now, I will ask you again and this time you will do as I say because You. Are. Sitting. In. My. Seat. Please leave.”

  To my surprise, he does as I ask and stands. As he ventures out from behind the desk, I swallow hard. Without breaking eye contact, he prowls toward me and my legs start shaking at the power in his stare and as he reaches me, I almost close my eyes and offer my lips to his willingly before he takes hold of my arm and propels me toward the chair. Then he forces me into the seat and holds me in place, saying firmly, “I said sit you infuriating woman and listen because god help me, if you challenge me again, I will put you over my knee and take great pleasure in spanking that fine ass of yours until you can’t sit down for a week.”

  I open my mouth to tell him exactly what I think about that but before I can his mouth covers mine and his tongue ties mine in knots as he kisses me so hard and so deep, I forget even my own name. Despite everything that’s happened between us I kiss him back. I can’t help it because he makes me weak. He makes me forget all the strength I stored up in anger over the past five years and makes me forget everything but him. I feel so disappointed in myself because I can’t deal with the emotion he puts me through. I am just not strong enough to win this war because he still owns my heart and I have to figure out a way to snatch it right back before I can possibly win against him.

  The cold air rushes between us fanning the flames as he pulls back and retreats behind my desk. Taking his seat, he stares at me with a look so hot I get an immediate tan as I stare at him in shock. “Now I have your attention we will begin.”

  I say nothing because I don’t have words. I don’t have anything because he has beaten me and he knows it. I see the arrogance of a man who always liked to be in control and if nothing, it has just intensified over the past five years and so, I let him speak—at last.

 

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