by C. L. Stacey
Left Behind
Copyright ©20156 CL. Stacey
All rights reserved. No part of this novel may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted without written permission from the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and occurrences are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental.
Editor: Chelsea Kuhel of Madison Seidler Editing Services
www.madisonseidler.com
Cover Designer: Sarah Hansen of Okay Creations
www.okaycreations.com
Formatter: Stacey Blake of Champagne Formats
www.champagneformats.com
Table of Contents
title page
copyright
dedication
prologue
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven
eight
nine
ten
eleven
twelve
thirteen
fourteen
fifteen
sixteen
seventeen
eighteen
nineteen
twenty
twenty-one
twenty-two
twenty-three
twenty-four
twenty-five
twenty-six
twenty-seven
twenty-eight
twenty-nine
thirty
thirty-one
thirty-two
thirty-three
thirty-four
thirty-five
thirty-six
thirty-seven
thirty-eight
thirty-nine
forty
forty-one
forty-two
acknowledgements
about the author
To my husband: Friends for fourteen years, lovers for seven, married for five. I love you first, now, and always. Thank you for all that you’ve done and will ever do. Even though you don’t know about it yet, it’s what made this book possible.
Every day I wake up, I question my existence. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know who I am anymore. But I soldier on.
For her.
Lexi Moore is my one loose end. I make it my business to know everything while she knows absolutely nothing. I exist only in her shadows.
There’s been a recent change, creating a new chapter in our story.
Ever since she went off to Parsons four years ago, I’ve been comfortably reading over written reports regarding her wellbeing. But now that she’s graduated, Lexi has returned to LA.
It’s been two weeks, and Daniel’s been monitoring her daily. Everything she does, every move that she makes, I already know about.
Today is the first time I’ve gathered the courage to check on her myself.
“She’s getting out of the car, Mr. Anderson,” Daniel, my head of security, informs me.
“I see her,” I say as I watch her step out of her Mercedes from the window of my backseat. I take in as much as I can in the time it takes for her to walk from her car to the coffeehouse across the lot.
So far, it’s been the same every morning, like clockwork. She comes to the same exact place for her coffee fix, at same exact time, and orders the same exact drink.
There are never any surprises.
What does surprise me, however, is how much she’s changed. Even from a distance, I note a few obvious differences in her appearance.
“She looks different,” I say, mostly to myself.
Her hair is longer, stopping just below the middle of her back, and I see that it’s gotten much lighter in color. I also notice that her face is slimmer now without her baby fat, so there’s more definition in her features. She looks a lot less like the kid I remember.
Four years is a long time…
Designer shoes. Designer bag. Designer clothes. Designer sunglasses with oversized frames that shield the top half of her face. I find them irritating and myself disappointed. I came here to see her after all.
The figure-fitting dress that outlines her toned physique attests that she’s been taking very good care of herself, something I’m very pleased to learn.
Pictures can only show so much; this is better. I’m glad I made the choice to come out to check on her myself. I’m glad to see that she’s been making healthy choices.
Anything’s better than the version of her I remember…
I close my eyes, squeezing them tight when the unwanted memories of Lexi lying in that hospital bed, helpless, weak and fragile invade my mind.
When I open them again, I see a number of people heading into and coming from the coffeehouse, but Lexi is gone.
Just as well… I got what I came for anyways. All I wanted was to see that she’s doing okay. Nothing more. Nothing less.
My decision to watch Lexi comes with rules. ‘No contact, observe from afar,’ is rule number one.
Go ahead… make your assumptions about me now.
It’s easy for you to decide that I’m some stalker when you don’t know shit about me.
Unfortunately, it’s not that simple, and you don’t get to judge me.
I need this.
I need to know that she’s okay, that she will always be okay.
Watching her is the only reason I’m still—for lack of a better word—sane.
At twenty-one years old, my life was decided for me. I went from a college undergrad to CEO of Anderson Enterprises overnight, trading frat parties for board meetings. Ready or not, I was forced to grow up when inheriting the throne soon after my father lost his battle with cancer.
All the time in the world couldn’t have prepared me for this. I wasn’t ready. None of us were.
Too afraid to fail, I put in everything I had into this company until I excelled, taking my father’s dreams and turning them into a reality. And then I lost everything. Not the company, just the things most important to me.
“Mr. Anderson, I have Mr. Thorpe out here to see you,” my assistant’s voice cuts through my office.
I drop the stack of proposals from my hands and press the button on my intercom. “Send him in, Lea.”
The door immediately opens following my order, and I wave my hand forward when I see Daniel on the other side.
I wait for him to settle in the chair in front of my desk before we begin our daily meeting. “What do we know?” I kick the conversation off the way we usually do.
“A few new discoveries,” Daniel starts off. “Ms. Moore has finally moved out on her own, and there’s been a change in her daily routine. She’s currently seeking work.” Daniel drops a fresh folder on my desk, full of new information on Lexi. “In the file, I’ve included information on each of the fashion houses she’s reached out to.”
Before today, Lexi had been staying with her parents. Assuming that it wasn’t a permanent solution for her, I had Daniel remain alert for any changes.
“So where is she staying now?” My eyes skim through the documents.
“Here in the city. The Archibald Tower,” Daniel answers, just as my eyes find the address at the top of her resume.
When I finish with the file, I set it down on my desk and lean back in my chair, resting my elbow against the arm and chin against my hand. “With?” I inquire further.
“Alone.”
“Has anyone taken interest in her so far?” I refer to the job hunt Daniel mentioned earlier.
Daniel shakes his head. “She only just got back, those resumes w
ent out a few days ago. Though I don’t imagine she’ll run into too much trouble with how well-connected her family is.”
Of that I am well aware. Her father’s law firm represents some big names in the city, and the full-service firm raked in a good chunk of cash last year.
“That is true,” I voice my thoughts aloud. “So why bother with the resumes? Why wouldn’t she just go to her father for help? I’m sure his firm has clients who know the right sort of people to help her out.”
Without leaving me another second to ponder, Daniel quickly offers, “Would you like me to look into it, sir?”
I shake my head. “No.”
It would be easy to get Daniel to dig further, but it would require him to get too close in order to do it. Now that she’s back, it’s too risky.
Coming up with a better idea, I shuffle some stuff around on my desk in search for the invitation I had tossed aside a second ago. When I find what I’m looking for, I pluck it from my discard pile.
Before I hand it over, I pause to think about it, feeling the cardstock between my fingers. Extending this invitation to her would put us in the same room, should I choose to attend.
Do I want to go to this? No. But it would help get her the exposure she needs right now.
Do I want to help her? Absolutely.
“Have Lea invite her to this.” I slide the invitation over to Daniel. He picks it up and lets his eyes scan it over.
Daniel doesn’t ask more, just gives an obedient nod. “Yes, sir.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything else you need from me, Mr. Anderson?”
“That will do for now.”
With a slight bow of his head, Daniel quietly takes his leave.
I’m tempted to go, just to keep an eye on her, but my attendance isn’t necessary. I receive reports from Daniel every day anyway, so why risk exposing myself?
I really shouldn’t risk it.
The fact that I’m sitting here debating my decision at all only means that my mind has already been made up.
I’m going to attend this party.
Harper throws herself down, sprawling out on my new mattress. She hangs upside down over the edge so that she can watch as I flip through everything I own in my walk-in closet.
Someone slipped an invitation into my mailbox yesterday. No return address, just an invitation to a big fashion event. I was too excited about my good fortune to wonder how it got there or why, figuring it must have come from one of the many places I submitted resumes to.
Now I’m freaking out. Because how do I plan to impress anyone if I have absolutely nothing to wear to this party that could possibly help land me a job? And why didn’t I take the day to shop for tonight?
Half my crap is everywhere. Some packed, some unpacked, some hanging on the racks, some splayed across the floor.
I’m usually more organized, I swear.
After weeks of renovations, my condo became move-in ready just yesterday. Between that and receiving an unexpected invitation to this party, I just couldn’t find the time.
If my mother ever witnessed the way I was living… she would just kill me.
Which is precisely why I haven’t invited her to my home yet. If she came before everything was perfectly organized, she would tear me limb from limb.
I can’t die yet. Not until I get a job.
“Sweets, you really need to calm down!” Harper scolds me from the bed. “You’ve got crazy eyes.”
“I have nothing to wear!” I whine, smacking the row of dresses in front of me.
“You have an entire closet filled with dresses, you whore!”
I roll my eyes and turn toward Harper, gesturing to my useless collection. “Yea, but which one of these shouts ‘hire me?’ This is a fashion party, Harper. I need to carefully consider what to wear, or else everyone will end up remembering me as ‘the girl who wore that hideous dress!’”
Harper rolls back over to her front. “Okay, one, if you had a dress that could shout anything, you wouldn’t need to look for a job, it would come looking for you. Two, you look great in anything! You could show up in a garbage bag and still make a great impression.”
“Seriously? That’s your advice? Go in a garbage bag?” I laugh. Then I remind myself that I don’t have time to laugh, and my face returns to its stern form. “What the heck am I going to do?” I sigh, giving my wardrobe another once over.
“Well, what’s Kellan going to wear?” Harper asks, sliding off the bed to offer me some real help.
My body tenses up at the mention of Kellan’s name. Taking him as my plus one was not my decision.
The mystery behind the party invitation didn’t last long. I got my answer that very same evening while having dinner at my parents’ house. The follow-up call came from some woman I’ve never heard of, calling to confirm whether or not I’ll be in attendance.
After we hung up, I stupidly celebrated at the dinner table by jumping up and down like a little girl, only to end up piquing my mother’s interest. I had no choice but to tell her when she asked what the call was about, then she took it upon herself to play cupid, interrogating Kellan about his love life. In the middle of dinner.
One thing led to another, and… I was no longer dateless.
Kellan Cooper is an associate at my father’s firm. On the fast track to becoming partner, my father tells me.
With my constant coming and going from the office for lunch dates with my father, he and I ended up developing an easy friendship over the years—six, to be exact. Even when I was in New York, he made sure to keep in touch. I remember how he used to send care packages when I got homesick.
There’s nothing not to like about the guy; he’s an intelligent, twenty-eight year old corporate and M&A lawyer. There is a lot of trust there between us, but am I attracted to him? No, not like that.
We are friends, great friends. So to have my mom scheme shamelessly to try and set us up is humiliating.
“Lexi?” Harper’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
When I realize I’d checked out, I blink myself out of it, clearing my throat as I continue to shuffle through my dresses. “I’m not sure what he’s wearing,” I answer.
“Well, let’s see…” Harper sighs, taking a look at each dress before shoving it down the rack. “Here, what about this one?” She plucks a hanger from the rack and holds it up against my half-naked body. “A simple, sexy little black dress!” she says, “Black goes with everything. I mean, duh, right?”
“I suppose…” I check my reflection with a frown. “But I don’t really like to wear black—”
“You’ll wear this one,” Harper cuts me off midsentence, “because I know how you look in this. Kellan will shit himself when he sees you in it.”
“Harper,” I warn, “filter. Lock it up.”
She laughs when I hip-check her, bumping her out of my closet. “Sorry, but remind me again why you’re in such a tizzy over your more-than-qualified date?” she asks, arching a perfectly plucked brow at me.
“You know why, Harper.”
Harper slides the dress off the hanger, draping it carefully over my waiting arms. “That was years ago, Lex,” she says softly.
Tears threaten at the slight mention of my past. It’s the very reason I keep memories of them locked away; it hurts too much to think about.
“Yea, well…” I pull my arms through the sleeves. “It doesn’t feel that way to me.”
Harper pulls my hair away from my dress, draping it over my shoulder so she can zip me up. “I know, sweets. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head with a smile I’ve mastered over the years, one that says, ‘It’s okay! I’m going to be just fine.’ But I’m not. I don’t know if I will ever be just fine again.
“You look beautiful.” Harper smiles at me through the mirror, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She feels my pain for me, she always has.
“Thank you.” I smile back.
Harper Nichols has been in my life
for as long as I can remember. We met as kids on our first day in kindergarten, and the rest is history. While we share no actual DNA, I have always considered her my sister.
“Lexi, can I talk to you about something?”
I frown at the odd question. “Of course you can. You can talk to me about anything, Harp. What’s up?”
“I know that you’re still… healing, and I get that you consider Kellan just a very close friend, but…”
But.
My hands pause what they’re doing when I sense where she’s going.
“He’s not a bad first choice as your chance at a fresh start. Kellan’s a really great guy, and I’m pretty sure he’s totally into you.” Harper offers another smile, a careful one.
With a smile I put a lot of effort behind, I dunk my mascara wand into the tube before bringing it to my lashes. “If only all guys were like Nick, right?” I joke.
We met Nick Johnson our freshman year at the fresh age of fourteen, then he and Harper started seeing each other at eighteen. Now, they are engaged at twenty-three.
He is the prime example of what the world’s best boyfriend should be. The guy is extremely loyal, and most importantly, he loves Harper more than anything else this world could offer. Which makes him more than good enough for me. Not that that was in jeopardy or anything. I gave him the best friend’s seal of approval before they were even a couple.
“Not everyone can be,” Harper agrees. “But there are some out there who are, Lex.”
I give a pathetic shrug, commanding myself not to cry after having applied two fresh coats of mascara. “I’m not looking.”
Relationships end every day between couples all around the world. How they reach that end may be different, but the end result is the same. You and your loved one are no more, kaput. How we decide to cope with that loss is what makes us different. There are some who mend their broken hearts with ice cream, some who believe in replacing what’s lost, some who seek counsel in others…
I buried my problem because I have no idea how to deal with it. Now I’m stuck in limbo.
Eli was my first and only love. It’s going to take a lot more than frozen dairy products, a random loser, or a shrink to put my useless heart back together again.