Cici’s claws tapped on the floor as she ran up to Daisy, wagging her little stump of a tail and banishing Daisy’s less than charitable thoughts of her now on-again boyfriend.
Daisy knelt on the floor to pet her sweet puppy, if she could call a five-year-old, fifty-two-pound dog of indeterminable origins a puppy, but Cici was having none of that and decided she’d rather be a lapdog, tackling her.
Laughing, Daisy fell on her butt, wet sloppy kisses covering her face. “Need a little attention, do you?” Gosh, she loved this dog. Three years ago, when she and Glen had first found Cici at the shelter, an instant connection had been made. They had taken one look at that dog’s blue and brown eyes and fallen in love.
The back door swung open. Glen walked in, a smile on his face when Cici bounded over to him.
Wasn’t there a saying about dogs being a good judge of people?
Slowly, she rose to her feet, dusting off her pajama bottoms. “I was getting worried about you. I made you an extra plate, and I can heat it up if you’re ready.”
The smile faded from Glen’s face. “It’s not what I want.”
“But you don’t know what I cooked tonight,” she said.
He held out his hands, palms up. “I mean, this isn’t what I want. You’re not what I want.”
A ball of what felt like dough that’d been left out in the open for too long hit the bottom of her stomach. “It isn’t? I’m not?” she croaked.
“Oh Lazy-Daisy—” Her eye twitched at his juvenile nickname. She’d always hated when he’d call her by it. “Not really. I’ve been thinking, and I’m not in love with you anymore. Well, I love you, but more like a friend. There’s no spark, no life to our relationship, and I’m bored. Gina told me to give you another chance, so I did, but it’s not working.”
“Who’s Gina?” she asked, anger merging with furious to make one ticked off baker.
“She’s the new guidance counselor at work,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. “I told you all about her.”
Crossing her arms, she pursed her lips. “No, you didn’t.”
“Like you listen to anything I say,” he scoffed. “You’re too busy baking and talking to some guy in England.”
Blood rushed to her face, heating it. How dare he turn this on her? “Excuse me? I own a bakery, and Jules is a customer.”
Glen smirked. “You talk to all of your customers that often?”
In fact, there were some she talked to every day and knew everything about, including when their next doctor appointments were and who had hemorrhoids. So sue her if she had a lot of senior citizens for customers. “Don’t make what Jules and I have into something dirty.”
Petting Cici, he motioned for the dog to go to bed. She went happily, and Daisy wished she could join her.
“I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.” She swallowed and briefly closed her eyes. “Did you cheat on me, Glen?”
“Only in my heart, with Gina. We really love each other. It’s a mature love, with a woman who has less baggage than you. I can’t handle your baggage.”
Gaping at his answer, she fought back the tears of anger and frustration. Any love she felt for him was gone, and for it to have left so easily meant it hadn’t really been there in the first place. At least, not this time. “You’re my baggage, you asshat!”
He cocked his head to one side, a move that she normally thought was endearing, but now it made her want to smack him. “Don’t be mad, honey. A clean break is what’s best for both of us.”
Pressing her fingers to her temples, she tried to process their conversation. This Glen wasn’t the Glen she’d loved in high school, or the Glen who had been there for her when her momma had died. No, this Glen was unrecognizable. They’d grown apart while growing up.
Hurt raked through her. How could he do this? How could he have led her on? Oh, she knew how, because she had let him.
“Get out of my house.”
He blinked at her. “Right this minute?”
“You said it yourself—a clean break is what’s best for both of us. So why draw it out, Glen? Get your crap and leave,” she said, proud that her voice didn’t waver. No matter what, she would be strong.
“Fine,” he snapped, marching out of the room.
While he packed, she paced the kitchen and began to pull out the items she needed to bake … something. By the time she had out everything but the milk and butter, Glen was back, one large suitcase in each hand and Cici on his heels.
“Where am I supposed to go?” he asked.
She set down the whisk in her hand, more for his safety than hers. “Try Gina’s. I’m sure she could counsel you on what to do next.”
He glanced away from her. “She still lives with her ex.”
Daisy snorted. “You both are idiots.”
“Yeah, well, you suck in bed,” Glen snapped.
“That’s entirely your fault, since you’re the only guy I’ve ever slept with,” she replied sweetly. “Maybe Gina will teach you something new, since I’m the only woman you’ve ever slept with.” A fact that had thrilled Daisy to no end. Maybe she could hold on to that memory of him.
“You’re not the only woman,” he mumbled, his cheeks heating.
“What?” She could barely choke out the word.
“Gina and I, after we broke up … we—”
“She’s the reason why we haven’t had sex in the past two and a half months?”
His gaze flew to hers. “You’ve been counting the days?”
She stared back at him, more stupefied than ever. “Just get out, Glen.”
“God, you’re a bitch when you want to be.” He turned, and Cici followed, wagging her tail. It was at that moment Daisy noticed the leash.
“Not Cici,” Daisy cried, trying to grab the leash, but Glen simply blocked her body with his, and her hands fell helplessly to her sides.
“She likes me better, and you know it,” Glen said.
Daisy did know it, but it still hurt for him to say the words. “But she’s our dog.”
“Not anymore,” he said. “Let’s go, Cici.” The dog only whined once and then followed Glen out the door, her little stump of a tail wagging happily.
Daisy managed to keep it together. She didn’t utter a sound as the door shut, or as she heard the car start up and back down her driveway. But as soon as she heard him hit the gas, she sank to the floor in a crumpled heap and cried her eyes out.
Why hadn’t she stood up to him? Why hadn’t she refused to let Cici go?
Because Glen would more than likely grow tired of caring for Cici, like he had before, and he’d call Daisy to come get her, the rational part of her brain reminded her. All Daisy would have to do is be patient.
“I can be patient and strong,” Daisy whispered.
Refusing to cry any more over that asshat, she scrubbed away her tears and stood, marching to her bedroom. She grabbed her laptop and plopped down on the bed, messaging the first person who came to mind.
This time, it wasn’t Isabella, her best friend since first grade. It wasn’t Haven, who’d been her other best friend since ninth grade.
Daisy: Jules! I need you. Please!
Oh God. Why had she done that? Feeling foolish, she moved the mouse to delete and—
Jules: I’m here, darling.
Her hands froze for a moment, and then she began to type. Her hands shook so much that her sentences ran together in places, but she didn’t care. She had to get everything out.
Daisy: Glen just broke up with me. I told him to get out. He took my dogandhesinolvewithanother woman. Hecheated on me with-somewoman named Gina! He doesn’t love me except as a FRIEND. Cici left me too. He took my DOG with him.
Jules: I’ll hunt the bastard down, cut off his testicles, and make him eat them.
She half-laugh-half-sobbed at his reply.
Jules: I’m not joking, love. Say the word and it shall be done.
Daisy: Thank you, but
I’d rather you stay out of jail. I could use a shoulder to cry on though.
Jules: I can be there by seven AM your time.
Daisy: Six fifty-five. Tell the pilot to fly faster.
Jules: If you give me a minute, I’ll arrange it. What are your favorite breakfast foods?
Daisy: Everything is my favorite food. I love to eat.
Jules: I’d love to feed you. Honestly, I only want you to feel better.
Daisy: You don’t have time to listen. It’s late and I have to talk things out. I’ll—
Jules: Time is all I really have, and it’s all yours. I guess you can say that my time belongs to you.
From that point on, she shared everything that had ever mattered to her with Jules. Her dad’s death in Afghanistan when she was barely three, her mother’s death from cancer four years ago, the insurance bills that still crept up every so often she had to pay, and how damn alone she’d felt afterwards, even with her best friends, Isabella, Haven, and Glen being there for her every step of the way. Which was why his betrayal hurt so bad. Glen had been her best friend. Her everything that Isabella and Haven couldn’t be.
Daisy: The worst part is that I think Glen was right. We really did love each other as friends … only friends don’t do that, you know. They don’t betray you like that.
Jules: Do you want to salvage your friendship with Glen?
Daisy thought she’d need time to think it over—time to weigh the pros and cons, but she didn’t. Her fingers did the deciding for her.
Daisy: HELL NO!
Jules: Then it’s settled. Concentrate on making new friends.
Daisy: Like you?
Jules: I thought we were already were friends.
Daisy: The very best.
The sky started to lighten, and she blinked her sleepy eyes. They felt dry, scratchy, and raw, just like the rest of her.
Daisy: Are you almost here? I don’t think I can stay awake any longer and you have to be exhausted.
Jules: Don’t fall asleep on me now. My shoulder is ready for you. Ah, there is your driveway.
She smiled.
The sound of tires rolling over gravel made her blink. She was hearing things. She glanced at the clock. 6:55 on the dot.
Daisy: lol. My mind is playing tricks on me. I swear it sounded like a car just drove up. I have to go to bed now. Besides, isn’t your virtual shoulder wet from all my virtual tears?
Jules: I changed clothes. Are you quite sure you don’t need me?
Daisy: I did need you and you were there for me. You even kept me from chewing a hole in my cheek. It’s a bad habit of mine.
Jules: I’d say so. You really need to work on not doing that when you’re upset.
Daisy: I’ll do my best. :) Now I really need to sleep. Thank you, Jules, for everything. Talk to you tomorrow?
Jules: Of course. My time belongs to you. Night, love.
Daisy: Night. :)
She closed her laptop and let her head fall to her pillow.
Later that afternoon, she opened the front door and a bouquet of flowers, in every color imaginable, awaited her. Beside it was a large cooler. She opened it and found containers of food, along with a handwritten note.
Daisy,
I hope you enjoy this traditional English breakfast, and the flowers. Any time you need me, say the word and I’ll be there—virtually or in real life.
Yours,
Jules
PS: This cost a lot more to have delivered than a single cupcake, and it was no hardship. So stop feeling guilty.
PPS: Glen’s a wanker.
PPPS: Talk to you tomorrow—I need sleep!
PPPPS: You can text me anytime. I’ll be able to answer you more quickly.
He’d given her his number. She clutched the note to her chest and smiled dreamily, while wondering if she’d ever get to meet him.
Chapter Five
“You’re mad, you know that, right?” the voice on the phone barked.
Sebastian hit send on the email he’d just finished composing, and replied, “If by mad, you mean genius, then yes.” He ended the call just as his other phone buzzed and smiled.
Daisy: My date sucked last night.
Jules: But you went on one and that’s the first step to getting back in the game, as the kids say.
Daisy: Ugh. I’d rather be on the sidelines. He was all handsy and committed too many fouls.
Sebastian fought the rising tide of jealousy, and lost. He didn’t want another man’s hands on her, another man’s mouth kissing her, or worse, another man’s arms around her, comforting her or encouraging her while knowing all the very mundane things about her that Sebastian would give away his entire inheritance to be privy to.
Jules: Shall I take care of this miscreant?
Daisy: lol. No, I took care of him. How are things going with Kate?
Jules: They’re not.
The door to his office burst open, and Liam Stewart strode in, his dark eyes narrowing. Liam was Sebastian’s oldest friend. They’d met their first year at Eton, and there was no one else he trusted more.
“It’s wrong and you know it. Hanging up on me won’t change the fact that the deal you made with Javenesky is so incredibly wrong and shady. He’s a rumored arms dealer.” The door closed with a slam behind him. “Put down the damn mobile phone, Sebastian, and listen to me,” he snapped, stopping just short of the massive desk that sat in front of a wall of windows.
“My last name is Romanov. Everything my family does is wrong and shady,” Sebastian pointed out. By making a deal with some even shadier underworld types, he would seal the fate of Romanov Industries. Once the public knew, his father would be humiliated and then the business would have to be sold, piece by piece, and he would be done. He would have peace. “And I’ll put down my mobile when I’m bloody well ready.”
Daisy: Breaking up with her? That’s so sad.
He was a little sad, but he’d tried, because Daisy had been the one to encourage him to date in the first place. Perhaps he hadn’t tried as hard as he could have, with Daisy constantly on his mind and in his computer and phone, but he’d tried to be a good boyfriend to Kate, only being one required time he didn’t have. Romanov Industries came first—as did Daisy. They were in a dead heat.
The best thing he could say he’d done for Kate was not to have slept with her. If he had, their breakup would have been more disastrous than it already was. He knew Kate was in love with him and would have been willing, but he couldn’t take advantage of that love to satisfy his base needs.
Daisy: But I bet it will be less confusing for you.
Jules: ?
Daisy: Every woman in England is named Kate. What do you do when you can’t find each other out in public? If you yell Kate, a million women answer you. ;)
He made a noise, a cross between a snort and a grunt.
Jules: Don’t quit your day job, darling.
Daisy: I am funny. You said so last night.
Liam exhaled. “This scheme of yours will get you fired.”
“Perhaps that’s what I want to happen,” Sebastian muttered as his fingers flew over the keys.
Jules: I was drunk.
Daisy: Tea makes you drunk? What in the world did you add, besides honey and lemon?
He inwardly grinned. She knew exactly how he took his tea, and that he liked to drink it right before bed.
Jules: Fine. You were uproariously hilarious.
Daisy: Knew it. :)
“Perhaps when it does, you’ll get yourself sorted out,” Liam murmured, and Sebastian stopped typing.
“What are you implying?”
Leaning against Sebastian’s desk, his best friend ran a hand through his dark hair and worked at his tie. “Ordinarily, I classify you as not in the ‘he’s not a tosser group,’ but this … it’s going to hurt the wrong people.”
“The only person it will hurt is Vladimir, and since he’s off in Morocco with his latest mistress, I’ll try not to get all—”
>
The door to his office swung open, and Ivan, his head of security, walked in, grimmer than usual. “It’s been reported that your father’s yacht has exploded.”
Sebastian wasn’t surprised, not with the enemies Vladimir had made over the years. “I’m sure he’ll purchase a new one straightaway.”
Ivan shook his head, and Sebastian suddenly felt queasy.
“Nyet. Mr. Romanov and his friend were on it at the time.”
Sebastian’s vision blurred, and there was a foreign pressure on his shoulder, squeezing him tightly. He couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t enough air in the room, and his tie was strangling him. He shot to his feet, his desk chair toppling to the floor with a loud bang against the marble, and clawed at the collar of his shirt.
“Bastian,” he heard Liam say.
An image of his father lifting him and Christian high in the air came to mind. The day was cold and sunny. Their mother had suggested an outing at the park. Vladimir had smiled at the three of them, his eyes bright blue and kind, as they ate their lunch. Contentment had flowed through his little body as they ran, trying to hoist a kite made of construction paper and straws into the sky.
“Papa,” he whispered, small child and grown man at the same time.
“Mr. Romanov?”
The image faded. “Fuck” he swore and pushed Liam away. He didn’t need his comfort. He didn’t want his comfort. “Take what you need, Ivan, and find out who’s responsible so they can be properly dealt with by the authorities.”
Ivan nodded. He knew exactly what Sebastian meant, and Sebastian was the only authority his head of security and personal bodyguard would obey.
He clenched his jaw and turned to face the window. God, he hated the view and the office, but he couldn’t leave. He was trapped by years of training, years of discipline by his father.
So, although he wanted to go with Ivan, he didn’t. He couldn’t. Hadn’t his father drilled the keep-your-nose clean mantra into his head for years? Sebastian, the Golden Child. The heir to the throne of the Romanov Empire. The one to make it above board in all things. Totally legitimate and legal.
Until now. Until Sebastian’s carefully laid plans had been thwarted by someone who hated his father more than he did.
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