The Boss's Fiance Box Set

by Amanda Horton

  Lucio signaled the bartender. “Cerveza por favor,” he ordered. He took a swig and emptied its contents then wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. Ana’s skin crawled as she wondered what she ever saw in him. She sighed deeply regretting the months she spent with this loser.

  “I’m breaking up with you, Lucio,” she announced straight away.

  “Huh, why?” Lucio asked baffled.

  “I’m leaving for New York to try my luck as a dancer there,” Ana replied simply.

  “That’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard. You’re not a dancer. I have never even seen you dance,” Lucio replied sarcastically.

  “Just because you’ve never seen me doesn’t mean I don’t. I have sent tapes and received an invitation to audition,” Ana lied.

  “You’ll probably end up in a strip club somewhere showing your tits,” Lucio retorted.

  Ana felt the hackles rise at the back of her neck. Tact didn’t exist in Lucio’s vocabulary. She should have kept her mouth shut. She reined in her irritation. It wouldn’t help the situation if she allowed her temper to get the best of her.

  “You can think anything you like. Besides it’s really none of your business. We’re here only because I want to tell you to your face that we’re done,” Ana replied with a calmness she didn’t feel.

  Lucio gulped. “Ana… querida, I know you’re probably jealous thinking I was with another woman. That’s why I am late. But you know you’re the only woman for me,” he wheedled.

  “I know you were with another woman, you jerk. There’s a lipstick mark on your collar,” Ana shot back.

  Lucio examined his collar and saw the incriminating evidence. “I-I uhm…” he sputtered.

  Ana knew what was coming next. He would lay it all on her and try to make her feel guilty.

  “Can you blame me?” he asked. “You’ve been very elusive these past few weeks. I missed having sex with you.” The lopsided smile appeared on his face. An arm slid across her shoulder pulling her close. “You haven’t forgotten, have you querida,” he whispered in her ear. “How you purr like my own little alley cat. How you shout my name over and over each time I make you come?”

  Disgust swept over Ana’s body. Sweet-talking her about sex was revolting and humiliating and showed how low he could go. She struggled out of his embrace. Some of the bar patrons looked their way. “Let me go Lucio,” Ana said.

  Lucio shrugged casually and grinned as he noticed the attention they were getting. Then he announced for all to hear. “My girlfriend wants to break up with me because she’s jealous. But just look at us. Don’t we look good together?”

  He pulled her close and kissed her on the lips. Ana was furious. She struggled and pushed him hard with all her strength. Lucio crashed against the edge of the counter chuckling before reaching out for her once more. He tried to kiss her groping her breast as he did. Ana’s rage boiled over. She grabbed the nearest weapon she could find, the beer bottle, and swung at Lucio’s head.

  The bottle shattered as blood spurted from the cut. The look of surprise on Lucio’s face was comical. He touched his head and saw the blood in his hand. His face turned savage.

  “Why, you cunt,” he snarled.

  He lunged for her. Ana sidestepped with an agility she probably inherited from her ancestors. Lucio went crashing into a nearby table. The table toppled over. Plates and food flew everywhere along with the patrons seated around it. Chaos ensued as some waiters tried to restrain Lucio who proved to be stronger than all of them combined. Curses flew along with elbows and arms. Soon, people were screaming and running in all directions. A police siren wailed in the distance then came to a full stop outside the restaurant. Cops entered the premises as Lucio was hauled away. Ana was slapped with handcuffs and taken to a police station. The rest of the night was surreal until Ana found herself alone inside the prison cell.

  “What did I do,” she whispered still horrified.

  The resulting humiliation from this imprisonment was something she did not even wish to imagine. But Ana couldn’t lie to herself. Part of the reason she ended up inside this seedy cell wasn’t just because of Lucio. Sure, she wanted to break up with the asshole, but along with that was the truth that frustration had been building up inside of her these past few weeks. It was because of that dance company in New York. She had sent audition tapes and waited eagerly for a reply. None came. Her hopes of pursuing a career in dance slowly ebbed with every passing day. She thought that if she did the right thing and broke up with Lucio, fate would reward her good behavior. Instead she found herself alone inside a jail cell.

  Ana’s face dropped to her hands as she sobbed.

  “Ana…Ana dear, are you alright?”

  Ana’s head whipped. She thought she was dreaming. Standing outside the cell was Diane Hawkins. Standing beside her was her husband Leon Alvaro. She didn’t even hear them come in. Relief surged throughout her body as she scrambled to her feet.

  “Diane…Leon, how-how did you know where to find me?” She asked incredulous.

  Diane was her employer at the cancer facility. It was she who gave Ana the opportunity to work as her interpreter when she was only a fresh graduate. Ana was a witness to the love affair that blossomed between Diane, a New York socialite, and Spain’s most famous football player, Leon Álvaro. Leon had his arm draped protectively around his wife as if he could protect her from the stench emanating from the cell.

  “We can talk about that on the way out,” Diane replied fanning her nose delicately.

  “I’m free to go?” Ana asked weakly. She couldn’t believe her luck. Diane and Leon weren’t just her employers--tonight they were her angels.

  “Yes,” Leon replied, signaling the deputy who opened the cell door.

  Ana’s knees trembled. She stumbled as she walked. Diane held her arm to keep her steady. Ana hesitated thinking this was all a dream, and she would be sent back inside. But everything appeared normal in the precinct outside.

  Ana turned to Diane. “They’re just letting me go that easily?”

  “Leon took care of it. We should get you home so you can change from those filthy clothes

  That was the only reproach Ana heard in Diane’s voice.

  “Diane, I know how this all looks. And I can explain…”

  “It can wait,” Diane retorted as they headed toward Leon’s car parked alongside the curb.

  It was a breezy night with a sky full of stars. Ana was grateful that Leon put the top down on the Mercedes Benz convertible. It cleared the fuzz in her brain. Leon probably didn’t want his wife assaulted with her stench too.

  They arrived at the beach house owned by Diane where Ana stayed on as Diane’s caretaker taking off every morning for the facility in Torrevieja where she worked as Diane’s assistant It was an efficient arrangement and Ana was grateful for the free lodging.

  Ana joined them in the living room. She was too embarrassed to even look at them. Instead she asked. “How did you know where to find me?”

  “One of my players was at the restaurant and saw what happened. He called me when the cops took you away. I called up Diane and told her you were in trouble. . I made some calls and we came to spring you,” Leon explained. Ana heard the quiet laughter in his voice.

  Diane looked serious as she waited for Ana to explain. Ana knew she owed Diane the truth. . She recounted what happened at the restaurant and how things went wrong. Diane giggled at the part about hitting Lucio on the head. Ana knew she never approved of Lucio.

  Her words faltered as she struggled to share her mounting frustration over the unanswered emails she sent to the dance company in New York. The last thing Ana wanted was for Diane to think she wanted to leave for something so fleeting and uncertain. She didn’t even realize that tears had started to fall down her cheeks.

  “You’ve always wanted to become a dancer?” Diane asked, surprised

  Ana nodded feeling it was such a shallow dream.

  “Then by all means, you need t
o go,” Diane replied.

  Ana was stunned. “You’re not angry I want to leave you?”

  “My dear Ana. Dreams are nourishment that feed the soul. If you ignore it, it will break your spirit. You lose the essence of who you are. You may or may not succeed, but you’ll never know until you try,” Diane replied softly.

  Two days later, Ana was in a frenzy stuffing clothes into an army backpack. Her nose wrinkled at the haversack. It was ugly as hell but quite sturdy. Everything she needed would fit nicely inside. It was a practical choice. She didn’t have the luxury to shop for anything more sophisticated. Besides, she barely even had time to make it to the airport. The flight leaving Barcelona for New York then onwards to the audition would be a tight squeeze. She just prayed she would make it.

  She was reaching for a pair of dance shoes on top of the cabinet when a piece of fragile silk fluttered to the ground. It was a hip scarf with bells that tinkled merrily as she retrieved it. Her skin broke into goose bumps.

  “It’s a sign,” Ana whispered.

  The hip scarf was the spark that had ignited her dream of becoming a dancer. Ana had found the scarf in a garbage dump. She never mentioned it to her mom knowing her mother hated souvenirs that would remind her of her own gypsy heritage. That was a mystery Ana never understood all these years. So she kept the scarf a secret. Something about the fragile piece of clothing connected with her soul.

  She smiled raising the scarf to her lips. This was going to be her lucky charm. The gods were on her side, she thought, as she stuffed it into the backpack.

  Chapter TWO

  Lash Mancini would never wake up before dawn on a Sunday morning especially when there was an exotic creature lying next to him. He couldn’t remember her name though Was it Lili or Lila? She was a Chinese model whose face was on the cover of every fashion magazine. None of that mattered. She was a tigress in bed. That was enough for him.

  Exhaling, he pulled the blanket away exposing the lissome legs entwined with the silk sheets. He stifled the urge to caress the translucent skin and wake her up. But that would bring more problems, and right now he had to be somewhere else to prevent a potential disaster. He took a quick shower, toweled off and donned a comfortable pair of jeans. A white shirt and a pair of loafers completed his morning look. He cast a glance at the sleeping model as he grabbed the keys to his Bentley. Surprisingly, his earlier libido had disappeared. Lash hoped she would be gone by the time he returned to the apartment.

  Manhattan was cool and breezy in the early morning hours. A few strips of dark clouds in the horizon promised some rainfall. The brisk wind swept all remnants of sleep. Lash needed all of his wits, charm even, when he met with Romina. His star dancer had been dropping hints that she wasn’t happy. That meant trouble for Lash. With the opening night looming just a few weeks away, he couldn’t afford to lose her.

  The Aurora Mancini Dance Company was his pet project. He named it after his mom. Aurora Mancini was everything to him when she was alive. Everything he owned was her brainchild. The name Lash Mancini was a force to be reckoned with in the business world. And it was all thanks to his mom’s grit and determination that Lash was among the list of the world’s richest and most powerful men.

  Now that she was gone, Lash was bound by a promise made on her deathbed. It was ironic. Aurora Mancini didn’t ask anything for herself. With her last breath, all she asked was for Lash to know and learn more about his Gypsy heritage, the part of him that he inherited from his father, a father Lash was never particularly fond of.

  That promise resulted in the Mancini Foundation, a foundation dedicated to research the Gypsy culture, beliefs and practices, way of life and history of persecution. Lash had in his possession memoirs and manuscripts, oral testimonies, tools and furniture, remnants of cave dwellings, costumes, medicine and medicinal tools that the Gypsy people had used over the ages. The Open Society of Europe had even cited the foundation, a recognition he was very proud of.

  With every piece of information, a veil was lifted. Lash slowly understood the man that his father was. He still resented the nonexistent role his father played in his life, but he knew his mom would approve of everything he had done to understand the mystery that was his dad.

  Lash decided that it was now his mom’s turn to receive his attention. As a young boy, his mom would take him by the hand and dance with him in the privacy of her bedroom. That memory remained poignantly clear in his mind. Thus, the Aurora Mancini Dance Company was born.

  Lash always brought with him the charisma that his mother possessed. In an era where women were not taken seriously for their business acumen, Aurora Mancini broke the mold. She was equal to her competitors, even surpassing most of them, until she accumulated the wealth that she passed on to her only son. Lash was equally driven and passionate, just as she was. He pursued his interests with a persistence born from the knowledge that nothing should ever stand in his way. He always got what he wanted.

  His brows furrowed as he thought about Romina. This slip of a girl could ruin his chances of getting an endorsement from Horne Calloway, a man considered a god in the world of vaudeville, musical stage and cinema. His endorsement could make or break the future of any aspiring dancer and certainly, even The Aurora Mancini Dance Studio. . Lash had just received a letter from Horne Calloway’s office saying that he would be attending the opening night. That was what Lash hoped for, and yet, he was afraid to even think if they failed to impress him.

  Lash came to a stop outside a fancy café. It was still early enough that he could park his car along the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop. He knew Romina would be impressed. Breakfast was by appointment only. Lash ensured Romina’s name was on the list. He needed to warm her up.

  Petite and with delicate features, Romina was a woman born to dance. It was Lash’s dance director, Jonathan Engels, who immediately saw her potential. It was easy to convince her to leave her job waitressing in a downtown dive. When the dance company started, Romina became its star dancer almost immediately. She earned quite a following in the months that they performed in out-of-town shows and small venues in nearby states. Things were looking optimistic for the company.

  A year later, Lash felt confident they were ready for bigger venues like Radio City Music Hall. They began an intensive routine of dance practices. Jonathan Engels hired the best choreographers he could find. Money was no object for Lash in his search for the stars that would compose his ensemble. He paid a hefty sum of money to buy out the contract from another dance company for Ricardo Ruiz, his male star dance and Romina’s current partner. Unfortunately, Ricardo’s fiery temperament clashed with his diva. They had egos bigger than their weights combined. On stage they were awesome to watch. Off stage, they bickered like cats in heat.

  Lash spotted Romina as soon as he entered. The gloomy look on her face was there for all to see.

  “Hi Romina. My star dancer is looking fabulous today,” Lash greeted her.

  Romina forced a smile then proceeded stirring her latte.

  “What’s wrong?” Lash pretended not to know.

  “It’s that awful Ricardo Ruiz,” Romina whined, “he extended his part to a full 30 seconds for the side-by-side dance. It’s not fair. Those 30 seconds are mine.”

  “I was there at the rehearsals. You were both great,” Lash said.

  The dancer smirked. “It’s because he is a devious asshole.” Romina sighed, then with tears brimming added, “Maybe I should just resign. No one seems to believe me anyway.”

  “Of course I believe you,” Lash countered, “I’ll ask Jonathan to speak to Ricardo. In the meantime, I have some news for you. I might just get you on the cover of Dance Magazine, New York.”

  “You would?” Her eyes suddenly came alive.

  Lash nodded crossing his fingers underneath the table. He had no connections with Dance Magazine but hoped that Lili or Lila, the Chinese model he left sleeping in his apartment, could help. If that didn’t work out, he was willing to buy a s
pot from the darn magazine. Hell, he would buy the whole publication if it came to that. He would have promised her the moon to keep the company going till opening night. In his gut, he knew he was going to get that endorsement from Horne Calloway.

  Romina was so excited over the prospect that she forgot her anguish over the 30 second loss. Lash knew he had accomplished what he came for. He signaled the maître d.

  “She’s my guest and someone very important. Treat her like royalty.” The maître d nodded effusively. He knew Lash Mancini’s reputation. Lash stood to go.

  Romina sprung to her feet. “Tell me more. When do they plan to do the interview? Who will photograph me? Oh…I hope it’s that new guy they’re all raving about.”

  “I haven’t gotten all the details. I told them they will have to wait because you’re busy with rehearsals. But Dance Magazine is dead set on having you, they’re willing to wait until after opening night,” Lash lied.