An Alpha's Heart

by Sara Allen

  “Shame on you,” I scolded. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

  “For your own good.”

  “That’s what they always say.” I smiled as a couple approached us. “Just how long have you known most of these people?” I took a sip of my wine and held Simon’s gaze.

  “Honestly?” He looked uncomfortable. “About fifteen years. Give or take.”

  My mouth dropped. “Simon!” I looked around to make sure I wasn’t too loud. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He looked sheepish. “Because I like working with you. I love your vision.”

  I was chuffed. “And I suppose you want me to thank you?”

  “Most of the builds I do are boring.” He rubbed his low afro and waved at another guy. “But yours are something special. I want to work with you. That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

  “Well,” I took another sip, “at least now I know how popular you are. I’ll make use of your fame.” I gave him a cheeky grin and threaded my arm through his. “Come on, Mr. Famous-Bespoke-Builder, let’s go eat. I’m starved.”

  The dinner was a sit-down affair that set friend against foe in the table layout. These events were always a play on hierarchy, a case of who knew who, that would get you the best seat in the house. As hosts of the event, we were spared the in-fighting that had occurred amongst the smaller firms like our own.

  I watched as the master of ceremony ascended the podium and tapped the mic for attention. He introduced himself and thanked everyone for coming before he began the introductions. I lost the gist of his speech at a sight I’d never thought to see and watched in astonishment as Ash took a seat at a table near the door.

  He looked around, seemingly with a casual glance, and spotted me. I tilted my head to the side and raised a brow, but he shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the front, ignoring me.

  Butterflies fizzed through my stomach and I wondered why he was there. He’d said he couldn’t come and had been adamant that he had work to do. My mind worked through a hundred scenarios and I was torn between going over and asking him why he was there and keeping my ass quiet and following protocol.

  I had a speech and an award to give and now, I was as nervous as a new bride.

  “Row!” Simon hissed. “You’re up.”

  My mind had been so far into my own issues that I’d missed my cue. Embarrassment had me stumbling from my seat beside Simon and making my way to the stage. The sheet of paper in my pocket felt like a lifeline, the small speech that I’d written out and memorized the night before fleeing as I looked out on the crowd. My courage fled me, leaving the speech I held on to feeling like a stone in my hand.

  How was I supposed to do this when that man sat scrutinizing me? If Ash and I had come together, I wouldn’t be standing on that spot-lit stage feeling that he was judging me. But as it was, I felt the weight of his disapproval with each breath I took.

  Stammering through my introduction, I fluffed the reading of the candidates’ names and passed off the microphone to the wrong person. All in all, I appeared incompetent and amateurish and I didn’t like the feeling one bit.

  Why couldn’t he stick to his guns? If he said he wasn’t coming, he shouldn’t have come.

  When I finally escaped the stage, I walked around the dining area and approached from the back. He’d been watching me and stood to look down at me with a blank stare.

  “Why are you here?”

  His lips thinned. “I thought it would be okay, seeing as you invited me.”

  “You said you weren’t coming,” I accused. “You told me you were busy.”

  He laughed. “Is that what’s cramped your style?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” For some reason, I couldn’t seem to stop myself from goading him into an argument.

  “I saw you over there all cozy with your friends.”

  “Those are my colleagues,” I corrected. “And I wasn’t cozy with anyone.”

  “Could have fooled me.” His eyes flicked over to the corner before landing back on me. “Anyway, let me not keep you. You look busy.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Ash!” I couldn’t help the anguish that caused my voice to tremble. “How much longer are we going to keep doing this?”

  He turned, giving me a cold stare. “You really want to do this here?”

  “You never call me,” I accused. “You barely show your face.” My breathing became ragged, my voice rising. “We’re supposed to be married, but I feel more alone than I did before I met you.”

  “Rowanne…” His voice lowered. “That’s easy to rectify.”

  “And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I screamed. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I stood rigid, not caring who saw or took note. “I want the husband that I married, nothing more.”

  “Lower your voice, Rowanne,” Ash warned, “you’re making more of this than it needs to be.”

  “No!” I panted. “I’m done with this…” My hands waved around. “Whatever the fuck this is.”

  I didn’t care anymore. I was at the end of my patience with being ignored and misunderstood. I’d cried myself to sleep one night too many, and those were the nights that Ash bothered to show me his face. On days when I was alone, I was able to handle the loneliness. I could deal with knowing that the man I’d married at the beginning of the year didn’t care enough for me to include me in his life. What I couldn’t handle was that we shared nothing. That wasn’t normal or healthy in any kind of relationship.

  I wanted my life back, and he was holding it in the palm of his hand.

  “Whatever you want, Rowanne.” He sounded defeated as though he’d known this was coming and it made me look at him closer. “Whatever you want.”

  He spun, shoulders thrown back and head held high, walking out of the dining room and out of my life.

  22

  Him

  6 months later

  I had so little to show for my year with Rowanne that the reminder of it hurt more than I thought it would. She’d finally had enough of me, and I couldn’t blame her. For all my wanting to be the best man for her, I realized that I wasn’t even half as good as I thought I was. What my mind had thought she needed, she didn’t require at all. Thinking that my damaged personality was safe from her scrutiny when in reality it was the exact opposite. The miscalculation had brought us to this parting of ways.

  That day she’d walked into my office, the first time she’d been there in the year we’d been married, I almost caved and begged her to forget the divorce. To help me work out our differences and be mine again. But I’d held out, ignored the ache in my heart and given her what she needed to be whole again. Even if that meant I was broken and crushed. So long as Rowanne was okay, then I was okay with that.

  A tentative tap on my door alerted me to my assistant on the other side.

  “Come!”

  They’d been tip-toeing around me for six months. Everyone that came into contact with me felt the chill that oozed off my soul, and quickly settled into a silence that plagued me with the way they avoided me. It didn’t take them long to leave me alone soon afterwards. Even Andrew, who’d been in my company for longer than anyone else, cowered when I walked into a room and left soon after, telling me to get a grip and find whatever I’d lost. If only he knew.

  My assistant pushed half of his body through the gap he’d opened. “Sir, there’s a Ms. Rodgers here to see you.”

  I groaned as quiet as I could and exhaled. If there was a place I could hide from this parasite, I’d have gone. It was inevitable that she’d be around sooner or later. Andrew couldn’t keep anything from his wife. Fucking asshole… And Sam had trouble keeping her mouth shut when it came to Kelley.

  “Show her in.” I braced myself. I wasn’t in the mood for her and her shit today or ever.

  She entered as though there was an audience applauding her. She’d really made an effort from what I could tell. With a flawless face stretched in a wide smile, she breezed in on hi
gh heels and the shortest of shorts. She wore a cropped top that showed her flat stomach and a jacket with the sleeves pushed up to her forearms.

  Any other man would have jumped at the offer she was dishing out. Any man, but me. She did nothing for me, and the scowl on my face must have told her that she hadn’t made the impact she’d wanted.

  “What do you want, Kelley? I’m busy.”

  “Is…is that any way to treat an old friend?” she stammered.

  The snort of derision couldn’t be helped. “We were anything but friends.” I looked up at her perched on the edge of the chair. “What do you want?”

  She took a deep breath, flicked her red hair over her shoulder and looked me in the eye. “Well, I heard you weren’t doing too good.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “I was talking to Sammy, and she said—”

  “Your bestie don’t know me.”

  “Maybe not,” she replied, “but her husband does.”

  I leaned back in my chair, the momentum of my body pushing it backwards. “So?”

  The flash of annoyance was instant and left just as quickly. I watched her eyes flick to my hand and a slow smile spread up her face.

  “She finally left you, did she?” She smiled as though the realization was just what she’d wanted to confirm.

  My heart stilled, missing a beat as a slow anger settled like hot coals in my soul. “Who left me?” I challenged her to show her cards.

  “That prissy architect bitch.”

  “What do you know about Rowanne?”

  “I saw you two at Sam’s wedding.” She sneered. “You couldn’t wait to get her out of there.”

  “It wasn’t a place I thought she should be, so what’s that got to do with anything?”

  “I saw the way she looked at you when you walked away,” she said. “I ain’t stupid.”

  “Aren’t you?” My face was a mask. “Is that why you think you should come here and tell me what you think you know?”

  “All I’m saying is that she wasn’t right for you,” she countered. “I told her she wasn’t like us. I—”

  “You told her what?” I eased my chair upright and laid my hands on the desk.

  “Yeah, I told her that you two were too different.”

  Either she didn’t see the warning signs or she ignored them. I was seething, a cold fury that ate every ounce of what I had left of humanity.

  “When did you see Rowanne, Kelley?”

  Perhaps she’d finally realized she was walking on shaky ground. Her head whipped up and she gave me a startled stare.

  “It was ages ago, I can’t remember when.”

  “I think you can and you’d better,” I warned her. “When did you visit her and what lies did you spew to make her think there was something between you and I?”

  “Come on, Ash,” she pleaded. “You know that I’m better for you than she ever was.” her hands wrung together. “I understand you because we’re the same.”

  “Maybe you don’t know this, Kelley.” The disgust in my voice was evident. “You and I are nothing alike.”

  Kelley’s mouth trembled. “I don’t know who you fucking think you are, anyway”

  “Better than you,” I told her, “chasing someone who never wanted you for more than a fuck buddy,” I spat. “And even that wasn’t worth it for me.”

  “You’re a bastard, Ash.”

  “Actually, that’s where you’re wrong,” I informed her. “My parents were happily married.”

  She sat in her chair, defeated.

  I turned away from her, clicking a few keys on the keyboard. “See yourself out.”

  “You’ll regret this, Ash.”

  “I’m already fucking regretting it!” I shouted. “Now, get the fuck out of my office and don’t come back!”

  I winced when the door slammed behind Kelley and her vitriolic swearing. She’d actually thought that with Rowanne out of the way, she’d have a clear shot at winning me over. Once, during the early days of Andrew and Sam’s relationship, was more than enough for me to understand Kelley wanted a piece of the pie her friend had. She wasn’t even close to what I’d look for in a woman, not by a long shot.

  What the bitch had done was throw a spanner in my relationship with Rowanne, though. And I’d been such a fool that I only recognized it now. If I was to think back, I could probably identify when that spiteful bitch had done her dirty work. However, it wasn’t what Kelley had implied or left unsaid that was the problem. It was all the assurances I hadn’t made and the fact that Rowanne knew almost nothing about me, which had been the door Kelley’s lies had been able to seep through.

  Knowing too late that I should have been more open with her, more honest and clear about who I was and what I was, was the bitterest kind of pill to swallow. Every opportunity I’d missed to share even the smallest grain of insight about myself left me seeing how damaged and messed up it proved to be.

  Rowanne had a family, a loving family. She had friends and colleagues, an education that she’d worked hard for and achieved awards and recognition for her hard work. What the fuck did I have to compete with that?

  I’d lost her because I knew how insignificant I was beside her. She deserved so much more than me, and I had nothing to prove my reasoning was incorrect.

  Therefore, if Kelley had spread her lies and told Rowanne her version of how she wanted her life to be, Rowanne had nothing to combat that information with. Essentially, every implied word she'd told Rowanne was only a half-truth. Kelley would never know how alike we were while Rowanne and I weren’t the same at all.

  There was a universal truth that settled about my shoulders, and I hated to admit that Rowanne could do a damn sight better than me. I hoped she was open to the possibility of seeking whoever it was that should replace me, but died inside at the thought that she would.

  23

  Her

  Two years later

  I gazed across the square at the sun reflecting off the water in the old square’s fountain. Summer in the city was a chance to get out and about to explore and people watch. It was a chance to grab a cold drink and just walk. I should have been back at my office an hour ago, but today, I just didn’t feel like the four claustrophobic walls deserved to be my prison.

  It wasn’t that I was hoping to catch a glimpse of him. After all, in the two years since we’d divorced, I hadn’t even heard his name, let alone seen a sighting of him. But it never stopped me from walking these paths we’d taken when we’d been married. I couldn’t help the yearning to see his face once again. The hope that he remembered me even if it was with nothing more than hatred. I could deal with that. It was the indifference and forgetfulness that hurt me the most.

  My mother had said I was dwelling on the past too much, but when love hit so hard, how was I supposed to forget?

  This petty tormenting of myself had to stop, though. I spun quickly and hailed a cab. I’d go back to my prison and work on the concept a new client had asked me for. Those were the small problems I understood. I’d learned when a client asked for stairs that led to nowhere even though the prospect was ridiculous, I’d be on board and behind his ideals. But I’d never be able to explain how Ash could let me leave so easily.

  Exiting the elevator, I saw a man sitting in reception. His shirt and tie were rigid, tight, and looked uncomfortable in the heat of late afternoon, despite the air conditioning in the offices.

  Mags hissed at me, throwing me a look that spoke volumes. I shrugged and ignored her pointed stare.

  “Mr. Turner has been waiting for you,” she ground out. “You could have told me you were going to be late coming back from your other appointment.”

  Smiling sweetly, I turned to Mr. Turner. “I apologize for making you wait so long,” I explained. “I was a little pre-occupied.” My hand snaked out, offering itself. “Please come this way.”

  He’d jumped up from the plush reception sofa and shaken my hand. With a deprecating smile, I led him to
my office.

  Watching him sit on the edge of his seat told me a lot about him, but I’d been wrong about first appearances before, and clamped my teeth over my observations and kept quiet. My tendency to place people into categories wouldn’t rest though and I filed it away and sat behind my desk.

  “How can I help you?”

  “I’d like to have a house constructed,” he said.

  I smiled, waiting for him to continue, but he simply looked at me as though waiting for me to tell him what to do.

  “May I ask you a few questions please?" I reached for a pencil and a notepad and scribbled a few lines.

  “Of course.”

  “What kind of house do you want?’

  “Something special.”

  “If you didn’t want something special, you wouldn’t have come to see me,” I told him. “What do you mean by special?”

  “Oh…” He thought for a second and then reached into the briefcase he held in his hands. “I wrote a few notes. I hope you don’t mind if I read them to you.” He looked up expectantly.

  “Of course not,” I beamed. “That would be perfect.”

  He read a list of requirements that instantly made me wonder if the man sitting in front of me was a different person when he was at home. Everything he said over the next five minutes was the opposite of how I saw him.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Turner,” I stopped him for a second, “are you sure you want me to design you a house like that?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “But…” I couldn’t help myself, “the requirements don’t seem to fit you, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  He hesitated, his face turning slightly pink. “To be honest, Ms. Wilson, I’m a completely different man when I’m not working.” He tried a disarming smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and I wondered why he felt the need to cover up.

  I shrugged. It wasn’t my problem.

  “Is it possible to see the plot?”

  “Err, when?”

  “As soon as possible, actually,” I replied. “It will give me a chance to get started.”