Embrace: The Secret Billionaire Asher Christmas Duet, Two (The Dark Christmases Book 9)

by Z. L. Arkadie

  I focused solely on his sexy face as I strolled to him, wrapped my arms around him, and planted one sexy kiss on him in front of everyone. We only stopped kissing when a piano started playing. I quickly turned to see what was coming next. Brody, one of the interns, was sitting on a stool, playing the keyboard. The neurosurgery attendings, Dr. Nassim, Dr. Huang, Dr. Kraig, and Dr. Chapman, sang with gusto, “For all the years you’ve saved our asses, we say thank you! Goodbye, sweet Pen, our darling resident, bright as the moon, who’s now a fellow. We’ll see you back here soon.”

  The room filled with applause, and I did something between laughing and crying as I hugged everyone.

  There was cake and all my favorite treats from Southern Candymakers and plenty of wine, which I drank because the occasion called for a glass or two. I had a great time reminiscing with my colleagues about the past and our most memorable patients. I decided to call it quits in the middle of my third glass. As usual, the alcohol went right through me, and I had to rush to the ladies’ room.

  I hadn't heard her come into the restroom, nor had I smelled her overly sweetened perfume. I wished I had. I probably would have stayed in the stall. While looking into the eyes of Julia Valentine, I felt my head floating away from body. I looked at the door. It was behind her.

  She smirked and folded her arms as if daring me to try to get past her. “So, you’re my sister, kind of.”

  I was lost for words, simply because it was surreal to be standing across from the woman who had been the villain in every story I’d heard about her. I looked for similarities between us. We both had dark hair. Her brown eyes were a bit lighter than mine. My cheekbones were higher and my lips poutier, and her lips were thinner yet formed into a bowtie. Julia had a softer, small-boned quality to her. I was built more like my mother and my aunt.

  “What has Asher told you about me?” she asked.

  All the bad stories, from extortion to her being toxically selfish, came to mind.

  “I see,” she said, reading my face. “That bad, huh?” She smiled, and she looked harmless.

  I went to the sink to quickly wash my hands, and she walked over to stand beside me.

  The water was cold, and I wished I hadn’t drunk two and a half glasses of wine. My reactions were slow, and because of it, I felt vulnerable.

  “Well, listen. I know we’re not going to be acting as real sisters. Your mother was my father’s mistress.”

  The words mother and mistress sounded off in my head like two consecutive gunshots. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked, glaring at her.

  “He was married to my mother, so that makes your mother his mistress.”

  My mouth was stuck open as I stared at her. Does she really not comprehend what she’s saying? Or is she trying to rattle me? Or is it her goal to revise history? Maybe she needed to believe her father wasn’t a man who raped little girls. He certainly wasn’t my father—he was the man who raped my mother, and his violence against her had produced me.

  “You know what …” I snatched a paper towel out of the holder. “Fuck you. Stay away from me.”

  I tried to walk around Julia, but she stepped in front of me.

  “Move.”

  One of her eyes narrowed to slits. The other was glazed over. The woman looked evil. “Don’t you want to know?” she asked.

  “No,” I said and shoved her out of my way. I could hardly believe I had done that as I took large steps toward the door, feeling the urgent need to escape.

  Julia had stumbled but recovered, and she put her hand on my shoulder. “He’s not a good guy, and I have proof.” She sounded as if she was trying to keep her voice low.

  Asher’s warning repeated in my head. Julia was not to be trusted. The stark bright lights of the hallway were a welcome relief. I kept running away from her.

  “Get away from me, Julia,” I said as loudly as I could while thrusting my shoulder forward, trying to get her to release me. She would not let go.

  Then the sight of someone else made me stop in my tracks. The woman, who was less than ten feet away from me, stopped to study me as well. We had the same dark hair. The features that were missing on Julia’s face were on hers.

  Julia stood beside me, her face close to mine. Her spittle sprayed my face as she said something about being in possession of a video that showed how awful Asher used to treat her, though I would have to meet her at her hotel room to see it. That was the trap, of course. The more she spoke, the farther away she sounded. Then Asher appeared behind her, and Julia finally shut her mouth.

  It took a moment to see that the woman had a hand over her heart, and she looked petrified. “I heard you screaming,” she said, watching Julia curiously.

  Before I could respond, Asher said loudly, “Julia, follow me.” His eyes stayed on mine as he walked past me.

  “Who is she?” Julia asked, her curious gaze bouncing between Mary and me.

  “Julia, either come with me, or I’ll have security escort you out.”

  I could feel Julia’s eyes on me, but I didn’t move a muscle.

  “Who is she, though?”

  “Now!” Asher bellowed.

  After a moment, Julia stepped away from me. I listened to them walking away from me and was mildly worried about her being all alone with Asher. He could be trusted. She could not.

  But I was in a moment that I’d thought I would never experience again. I looked into the eyes of my mother—the woman who had abandoned me. My heart wanted to combust. My eyes filled with tears. All the feelings I’d thought I had lost concerning her came rushing back through me with the velocity of Niagara Falls. It took all the strength I could muster to stay standing and not break down crying. I pulled my shoulders back. Has she always been so beautiful? I took a steadying breath. But first, I checked over my shoulder. I could no longer see or hear Asher and Julia. I was on my own. I had no option but to make my approach.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Penina Ross

  Silently, with my eyes pinned to the linoleum, barely able to feel my feet hit the floor, I followed her to the lobby and out the front entrance of the building. We were lucky enough to find an unoccupied iron bench along the sidewalk. It was a Sunday afternoon. People liked to do whatever they could to avoid a hospital at that time of day. Although the weekend wasn’t over, patients would start rolling in by nightfall. I thought about that as I sat down and she sat beside me, her arms folded against her chest. I wondered if she had smelled like gardenias back when I was a kid too. I didn’t think so. We almost always carried the scent of dirty house and mildewed clothes.

  Finally, I faced her. Mary, or Elizabeth, was already looking at me.

  “What was going on back there?” she asked.

  My lips parted. I considered answering but wondered if she truly deserved an answer. What had been going on back there was complex and messy and deserved an explanation she was no longer privy to.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  Her eyes darted around my face as if she was taking in every pore and line. “I, um. Christine, um …” She closed her eyes. It was as if I’d asked her to solve a difficult math equation, but no, my question had been easy enough. “Asher Christmas came to my door yesterday evening. Then I watched Red Report.” She paused and looked at me as if that was supposed to ring a bell.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what that is.” I was running out of patience as well.

  Was her skin always like porcelain?

  “It’s a show that gossips about famous people. And”—her eyes expanded—“Asher Christmas is a famous person. They showed him fighting a football player at the airport, and you were with him. On top of that, Britta, one of the mothers at my son’s school, said something about Greg Carroll being in our neighborhood yesterday. He was supposedly with a drunk girl. So I put it all together. It was you, wasn’t it?”

  A lot went through my mind. I wanted to know if that was what it took to get her to come see me—a report about
a billionaire and a football player fighting. Does she want money? Did she see an opportunity to leave her boring husband and her two bratty kids to hang with her first daughter and get a taste of the good life?

  “Okay, so you put it all together. Now what?” I asked sharply.

  “Did you come to see me?”

  The tears rolled, and that meant I couldn't hide behind a tough exterior. The fact that she was there and said what she had said broke my heart even more. “I did. I wanted to see you, just get a look at you, but here you are. I see you. Now you can go.” I quickly stood.

  “Penina.”

  I froze, closing my eyes. She spoke my name as if it were her own. That made my heart break even more. My name was hers because she had given it to me.

  “I’m sorry. I’m here because I owe you a look at me. If that was all you wanted, I owed you that. But—”

  Feet, walk away.

  They wouldn’t move. My neck stayed bent, eyes closed.

  I turned to look at her.

  “I would like to explain. Please let me explain.” She looked so vulnerable and raw as she smoothed her hand over the part of the bench that I had abandoned. “Please, sit back down, please.”

  I folded my arms across my chest, hugging myself tightly as I carefully sat on the edge of the bench. I didn’t want to be close to her. It still felt as if she were an apparition. Can I touch her? I hadn’t touched her. Maybe I didn’t want to.

  “I knew you had become a surgeon. You’ve been a resident here at Unity Medical Center for seven years. I know your address. The people here call it the boarding hold. I’ve seen you at Bellies, where they have the bourbon wings, after shifts that are really hard. You have a good friend, a beautiful Indian lady with a sultry English accent. She’s like a sister to you. I’m telling you all this because I've never stopped watching you. But, Penina, I can never be me again. She’s gone. She’s dead. And I don’t want to resurrect her.”

  Tears streamed down my face. The fact that my mom knew all that about me suddenly made me feel loved and not as alone in the world as I’d thought I was. Finally, I could see that she was crying too.

  “I hope you will one day forgive me and understand me.”

  I sniffed, and she opened her purse and pulled two tissues out of a plastic package and handed them to me. I hesitated. It felt like déjà vu. I was six, sitting on a bench at some desert park in Victorville, California. I felt scared and anxious. At any moment, our world could’ve crumbled down. I wasn’t safe. I’d never felt safe, not until I met Asher. I closed my eyes and let those childhood anxieties flow out of my body then took her tissue.

  “Thanks,” I said then blew my nose and wiped my face.

  She gave me an extra one. I used it. It wasn’t until I was finished that I noticed how she was watching me.

  “I love you. Always have, always will,” she whispered then blew into her own tissue.

  I couldn’t say it back, even though it was the same for me. But I hated that I loved her. I didn’t want to hate her, though. I wanted to feel nothing for her.

  “You know about the man who …” She whispered.

  Then it occurred to me that my mom didn’t know that Julia was that man’s daughter and my sister. I glanced at the exit, praying that Julia didn’t walk out of the hospital.

  “Yes,” I said finally.

  “What I went through was hell on earth. But when I looked at you, I didn’t see him. I know he’s in prison for what he did to me and for murdering those people at the ranch and other crimes. He’s where he deserves to be. But that’s not enough, Penina.”

  I held up a hand to silence her. “Elizbeth,” I said, choosing to respect the choices she made and refer to her by her new name. “Please stop explaining. You don’t have to. I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m a professional woman who’s met all sorts of people in many situations in my lifetime. I’ve studied the brain as well. I know what we’re capable of, how we can adapt, and why sometimes …” I shook my head. I was trying to convince her that I wasn’t going to throw tomatoes at her or hate her forever.

  “Listen, when I met Asher Christmas, he was calling himself Jake Sparrow.” I barked a laugh at the irony that my mother and my boyfriend had both chosen to assume new identities. “I’m just saying that I’m not judging you. That’s all. I understand why you did what you did.”

  “You were a good child, though. It wasn’t you. It was me. You didn’t deserve me, the way I was then.”

  I wanted her to stop talking but also wanted to hear more. “Like I said, you don’t have to explain.”

  She closed her eyes and shook her hands as she said, “I want to say this. I have to.” Then she breathed in and out slowly through her nostrils.

  I pressed my lips together and nodded, giving her the space and grace to get whatever she wanted off her chest.

  “My two children are a lot more work than you were. You were such a good baby and a good little girl.” Her gaze caressed my face. “You did everything I ever asked without question. No back talk. No whining. My husband is fine. I couldn’t expect Prince Charming from a man who doesn’t know or want to know who I really am. I imagine he has his secrets too. But …” She closed her eyes and aimed her face toward the sun.

  I held my tongue. My insides wanted to burst into flames. Did she not know why I was such a good little girl? I was fucking scared all the time. I’d had to be good because I knew she wanted to leave me. Every waking moment, I knew. So I had to be obedient so that she wouldn’t go, even though she eventually did what I’d been afraid of.

  I stared at her face, thinking maybe if I looked hard enough, I could transfer some of my thoughts to her and she would understand. I didn’t want to tell her what I was thinking, perhaps because in the end—and it was the end as far she and I were concerned—the truth didn’t matter. We would be two generations of estranged Rosses. Looking at her face, I realized she wasn’t there seeking to get back into my life. She was making peace with leaving me. I vowed never to make the same mistake with my children.

  “No more,” I said with a sigh and rose to my feet. “I have to get back inside.”

  Even though I didn’t. I had no meetings or HR paperwork to sign, not that day, at least. I’d been told all of that as part of my surprise farewell party, which had ended before I went to the ladies’ room. But I had reached my limit. Being near Elizabeth Thomas made me feel as if I was being smothered.

  I frowned at her wide-eyed gaze.

  “I understand,” she whispered.

  She had a hint of uncertainty in her tone, but I didn’t care. Turning my back on her, I said, “Have a good life.”

  At first, I walked briskly, then I shuffled my feet. I would’ve run from her but didn’t want to rouse anyone’s concern. But ultimately, I did, and I gasped for air and pulled at the top of my silky camisole. My skin was hot and my head heavy. Too many people asked if I was okay, and too many hands touched me. I recognized all the faces, but their names escaped me. Mary Ross. Elizabeth Thomas. The names kept repeating in my head. My body was rigid as I squeezed my balled fist against my collarbone and pressed my arms against my breasts. Stop touching me. I wanted to say it, but those words wouldn't come out.

  Finally, all the bodies around me began to recede. Dr. Pittman told them all to give me air because I was having a panic attack.

  “Penina!” Asher’s voice rose above the rest of the chatter.

  So desperately, I searched for him through my blurry vision. Then two strong arms swooped me off the hard floor as if I were feather light. Asher’s scent filled my senses. With my face buried in the crook of his neck, I clung to him, relishing the warmth of his skin as he took swift steps. Soon the outside air bathed me. I gasped as if I’d finally made it to the surface of the ocean to release the breaths that had been trapped in my lungs.

  Asher climbed into the back seat of his car with me. Kirk drove us back to the Four Seasons. I was more exhausted than when I worked a night call
and was summonsed less than twelve hours later to perform a six-hour surgery. I was broken, shaking, and clinging to Asher like a scared kitten.

  He kept rubbing my shoulder and kissing my forehead. I was embarrassed to be so weak in his presence, but I couldn’t seem to pull myself out of my emotional state. It wanted to get worse, not better—and I was ready to recover already.

  “Asher,” I said, my voice trembling.

  “It’s all right, babe.” He kissed me on the forehead again.

  “No, I’m fine.” I shifted to sit up on my own, willing myself to battle the grief.

  He cautiously let go of me. “You can just rest, Penina. You were hit with a lot at once. I should’ve stayed closer to you.”

  I wanted to smile at him, just to prove that I was fine, but the corners of my mouth were too heavy to lift.

  Falling back against the seat, I sighed as my eyes flitted closed. “You couldn’t have prevented my mom showing up or Julia trapping me in the ladies’ room.” I massaged my temples. “What a crazy two days I’ve had.” Actually, the craziness had been more than two days. It had all started about a month ago when Rich and Courtney strolled into Bellies to inform me that they were a couple. Shortly thereafter, I ran into Jake Sparrow.

  “Is this how it’s supposed to feel?”

  He rubbed my thigh comfortingly. “How what is supposed to feel?”

  “Deep, meaningful change.”

  “Hmm. How does it feel?”

  “Like I’m being run over by a freight—”

  Suddenly, I knew what I needed—the cure.

  “What is it, babe?” Asher asked.

  I stopped massaging my temples. My eyelids were lighter as I looked at him. “There’s somewhere I need to go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three