A Million Tiny Pieces

by Nicole Edwards

  When the limo stopped, the driver made his way around, and Johnathan climbed out first. Alex was next, and Mia followed close behind. They stayed together, Johnathan offering each of them an arm as they made their way through the extravagant hotel lobby and directly to the ballroom where the event was being held. Invitations and coats were taken, and then they were allowed entrance, all three of them greeted by name.

  Stepping into the ballroom was like stepping into a fairy tale. The decorations were lavish, and this year’s theme appeared to revolve around … ice. Interesting. There were a large number of sculptures backlit by brilliant blue and white lights, set up throughout, all some sort of exotic sea animal chiseled from enormous blocks of, yes, ice.

  Large round tables that sat eight were set up in front of a long, narrow stage, where the honorary attendees would make their speeches dedicated to raising awareness and asking for additional donations while dinner was served. Hoping to not have to mingle, Mia excused herself from Alex and went in search of the table where she’d been placed. It took only a minute to locate it, and she was happy to see that Johnathan and Alex would be there as well, but oddly enough, Mia wouldn’t be sitting next to them. Being nosy, she quickly skimmed the other place cards on the table, ensuring she wouldn’t have to endure a dinner with her ex-husband. Mia knew the event was for charity, but she could only be expected to exert a certain amount of hospitality in one night.

  No Damien at their table, which was a bigger relief than she’d thought it would be.

  A tuxedo-clad waiter delivered a flute of champagne, which she accepted with a gracious smile. Rather than take her place at the table, Mia wandered close by, admiring the women in their beautiful gowns and the men in their elegant tuxedos, many of whom she recognized from previous functions. Quite a few of those who ran in Damien’s circles.

  “Mia?”

  Hearing her name, Mia turned and came face to face with Charles and Delilah Somerhaus. The older couple looked exactly the same as the last time she’d seen them, at the last charity event she’d attended. Charles was decked out in a tux, and Delilah looked stunning in a navy blue gown that accentuated her narrow waist. Mia was pretty sure that if it weren’t for some pretty good plastic surgeons, Delilah wouldn’t look to be at least half her age. But she definitely did.

  “Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you,” Delilah greeted, moving in for a quick hug, air-kissing her on each cheek before pulling back.

  “It’s good to see you, too,” Mia said, watching the couple carefully as she took a sip of her champagne, hoping she didn’t appear as suspicious as she was. Of all the people in the room, the last two who she would’ve expected to greet her were the Somerhauses. Although they were pleasant, Mia knew they’d always looked down their narrow, aristocratic noses at her. She wouldn’t have doubted if they’d had a party to celebrate her divorce. One of those grand galas where everyone who was anyone was invited and they sipped Cristal out of twenty-four-karat gold-rimmed glasses.

  Okay, so they were a little pretentious. Mia had never pretended to like them any more than they’d pretended to like her.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that you and Damien parted ways.”

  Mia fought the urge to laugh, mainly so she didn’t snort champagne through her nose. The way Delilah said it was as though they’d had a business arrangement. Instead of calling her on it, Mia said, “It was for the best. How are you? How’s Teresa?”

  Mia hadn’t actually met Delilah and Charles’s daughter, Teresa, but she’d heard so much about her she felt as though she knew her personally. Although, based on some of the things she’d heard, she wasn’t exactly interested in making her acquaintance.

  “Oh, my. You haven’t heard?” Delilah asked, appearing stricken as she looked over at her husband and then back.

  “Sorry, heard what?” Mia asked, glancing back and forth between the couple.

  Of course, Delilah was the one to speak. “She’s … uh… well, she recently got engaged. Tonight, in fact.”

  Mia lifted her eyebrow, waiting to see if the older woman would elaborate. Why did that seem to bother Delilah? When the other woman didn’t continue, Mia followed with, “That’s wonderful. Tell her I said congratulations.”

  “We sure will,” Delilah stated, casting a nervous glance at Charles once more.

  Mia knew there was something they weren’t telling her, but the truth was, she really didn’t want to know. “Well, it was great seeing you. I’ve got to…” Not bothering to explain, Mia turned and ventured a little ways past her table, waiting for them to move on to someone else.

  Unfortunately, her solitude didn’t last long, but at least the company proved to be a little less self-important.

  “Mia? Is that you?”

  Mia glanced to her left to see Harrison Abbott. “Harrison,” she said, smiling. “It is me.”

  Harrison moved in for a hug, and Mia returned the gesture, holding on to her champagne.

  “You look incredible,” he said.

  “I’d have to say the same to you,” she replied.

  “Thank you.” Harrison glanced around as though looking for someone, and when he met her gaze again, he looked a little confused.

  “Something wrong?” she asked, unsure what to expect from him.

  Harrison was a former employee of Damien’s. The two of them had worked together for years, but they’d had a falling out not long before Mia had moved out. Harrison was an accountant, and he’d been working for Damien for nearly a decade when something had happened and Harrison had gone his separate way. Mia had liked him immensely, finding him to be one of the few down-to-earth types that Damien usually steered clear of. Probably the reason he wasn’t employed by Damien any longer.

  “Sorry, no. I’m a little surprised to see you here. Are you by yourself?”

  He sounded as though the thought was preposterous, so Mia plastered on a smile. “I am. You?”

  “No, I’m … uh… my date’s around here somewhere.”

  “How is your wife?” Mia asked kindly.

  Harrison’s eyes lowered to the floor. “We separated about a year ago.”

  A year ago? That was around the time Harrison and Damien had had their falling out. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “Thanks. Things are better now,” he said, pasting a smile on his round face, but Mia could see the resentment still lingering in his dark brown eyes.

  “Well, I certainly don’t want to keep you,” she told him, glancing around as though trying to help him locate his date, although she had no idea who he was there with.

  “You’re really here by yourself?”

  Mia smiled, chuckling to herself. “I really am. Is that a problem?”

  “No,” he said quickly. “No. Sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s just…”

  Unsure what to say when it was clear Harrison didn’t know, either, Mia nodded. “Well, you know, it’s for a good cause. I figured I didn’t need a date.”

  Harrison smiled sadly. “Well, I guess I should go mingle. These things make me a little uncomfortable, but like you said, it’s for a good cause.”

  “It was good to see you,” Mia said in return, watching him as he departed.

  Although she was trying to enjoy herself, a small voice in the back of her mind continued to whisper that it hoped the time would pass by quickly. Sitting at home with a good book sounded so much better than forcing a smile for the rest of the evening or having to endure any more sympathy from the people she’d once considered… What had she considered these people? They weren’t exactly friends.

  It’s for a good cause, Mia reminded the voice.

  That didn’t help, but at least she had a sound argument.

  Maybe she should’ve been worried that she was arguing with herself, but she really didn’t care. For charity or not, Mia still had to worry about running into a man she had hoped to never have to see again. As it was, seeing the people he was close to was more than she could bear. She want
ed to jump up and down and tell them that she was fine. Happy, even. But she knew it would be pointless. These people only saw what they wanted to.

  By the time Alex found her, fifteen or twenty minutes had passed, along with at least three more couples who wanted to offer their sympathies regarding Mia’s failed marriage. Johnathan wasn’t with her, but she brought Mia another glass of champagne, which she kindly accepted. Mia wasn’t much of a drinker, and three glasses without food was already making her a little light-headed. She didn’t care about that, either. She was trying to keep a smile on her face, not wanting anyone to think that she feared running into Damien.

  Which she didn’t.

  Okay, she did.

  A little.

  “This is nice,” Alex said, standing by Mia’s side and motioning toward the open dance floor. “Much nicer than the last black-tie event we went to.”

  “Oh, right.” Mia snapped her fingers, trying to remember what event that had been. It hadn’t been a charity function, she knew that much, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what it was. Giving up, Mia asked, “You didn’t like the farm theme?” She recalled the odd decor from that event. She had no idea who’d thought it was a good thing to go with an elaborate western theme, but they had.

  “They had an actual pig there,” Alex said incredulously, chuckling.

  “I know. Tacky. But this is beautiful. It reminds me a little of my prom,” Mia told her.

  “Yeah? I guess I could see that.”

  Mia had no idea what Alex’s prom had been like. In her head, she envisioned a room decorated with diamonds and gold. Alex came from money. Her parents were wealthy, so marrying into it hadn’t been much of a change for her. One thing Mia loved about Alex was that her world wasn’t centered on it. Aside from the fact that she did volunteer work at local hospitals, rather than being out in the real world trying to make a living, you wouldn’t have known that her net worth — not including Johnathan’s — was likely hovering around a billion. Maybe more.

  Mia had never been intimidated by Alex or her money. Not the way she had been with Damien. Then again, Alex and Damien were polar opposites when it came to the way they presented themselves. The same with Johnathan. He was one of the highly sought after plastic surgeons in the area. Mia often teased him that he should’ve moved to Beverly Hills because he would’ve probably had his own television show. He would laugh, then tell her that wasn’t what he was about. He wasn’t lying, either. That wasn’t what he was about. Johnathan spent a significant amount of time working with burn units at children’s hospitals, offering his services for free or at a substantial discount.

  Mia hadn’t been left wanting as a child. Her mother was a well-respected pediatric surgeon, and her father had been a professor at the University of Texas. They’d been well off, but Mia had been raised with the understanding that one made one’s own way in life, and one had to make an effort. Nothing was ever simply handed to her. And she respected her mother for instilling her with that value, especially after she’d been thrust into Damien’s world.

  Granted, not all of the people Mia had associated with over the last few years had been quite as ostentatious as the Somerhauses or nearly as generous as Alex and Johnathan. In fact, most of them were somewhere in the middle, putting forth the effort to be noticed while ensuring that they would get something out of it. Especially Damien.

  Yes, Mia recognized that it didn’t say much about her that she had been married to the man, or that she had continued to put up with his selfishness throughout the marriage. But she liked to think that she’d turned over a new leaf recently.

  “Come on, let’s sit,” Alex said, nudging her arm.

  Mia followed Alex to the table, placing her clutch on the white linen tablecloth that covered it before lowering herself into her chair, adjusting her gown as she did. Johnathan arrived a moment later, kissing Alex sweetly before convincing her to move so that he could take the seat farther from Mia, yet leaving two empty spaces between her and Alex. The change put Johnathan almost directly across the table from Mia. Glancing over at the seats between them, specifically the one closest to Alex, Mia realized there was a busty brunette fine-tuning her cleavage while eye fucking Johnathan as he spoke to Alex. That explained the reason he’d traded places. Mia only hoped Alex didn’t claw the woman’s eyes out before the last course was served.

  It wasn’t long before the tables began to fill. The conversation that had been muted due to the size of the room became louder as people began congregating in a much smaller area. When most of the other guests arrived at their table, Mia realized she didn’t know any of them, which was another relief. They would be her only source of conversation for the next hour, so she considered herself lucky. If she didn’t know them, then hopefully they wouldn’t spur discussion of her divorce.

  She also hoped she could carry on a conversation long enough to make it through the meal. Then, if the universe was working in her favor tonight, she could sneak out while everyone else enjoyed the rest of their evening.

  Just as the waiters were delivering the first course, the chair directly to her right, as well as the one to her left, pulled back, and tuxedo-clad bodies came into view on either side of her. It wasn’t until each man was sitting that Mia realized who they were.

  The guys from the elevator.

  Damn.

  Mia turned her attention to the others at the table, hoping to look as though she was part of the conversation they were having. She laughed when Alex did, although she had no idea why Alex was laughing. Alex turned her head, her eyebrows darting down briefly in confusion. Mia simply smiled.

  Unfortunately, the waiter didn’t realize that Mia was purposely trying to avoid the newest members to their table, and he came to her right side, tapping her on the shoulder as he stood between her and Green Eyes. When she turned to look at him — the waiter, that is — Mia met the piercing gaze of the guy sitting next to her first before she focused her attention on the waiter looming at her side. The waiter motioned to a bottle of red wine in his hand, and Mia nodded. She sat back while he filled her glass, then poured some into the glass of the man sitting next to her.

  When the waiter moved to her left side, offering wine to the golden-eyed stranger, she made the mistake of looking that direction. She then noticed that the newcomer was staring at her, a mischievous grin tilting the corners of his full, sexy lips.

  Oh, God.

  He had a dimple.

  A freaking dimple.

  In his left cheek.

  It somehow softened the overly masculine structure of his handsome face, making him seem a little less … intimidating. Just a little.

  “Mr. Pierce,” someone across the table said, which thankfully pulled her attention away from the golden eyes peering back at her.

  She took a deep breath, trying to feed her starving lungs, because apparently she’d been holding her breath without realizing it. The universe was clearly out to get her. She couldn’t think of any other reason she would’ve been seated between both of these men.

  It could be worse, she thought. At least she wasn’t sitting at Damien’s table.

  Mr. Pierce — better known as Green Eyes — began a conversation with a man two seats over, and Mia watched the exchange, unable to look away. She admired the way he spoke, eloquently answering the constant barrage of questions that was coming his way while pretending not to be bothered. Maybe he wasn’t, or maybe he was merely a superb actor. Either way, she should've looked away, but she didn’t. Not until he looked back at her, catching her in the act of admiring him. Only then did she glance away, pretending to be watching something across the room.

  That didn’t last long because the man with the golden eyes cleared his throat before saying, “It’s nice to see you again.” As he leaned closer to her, Mia got a whiff of his intoxicating scent.

  “You, too,” she lied. It wasn’t nice to see him. Either of them. Quite the opposite, actually. Mia wanted nothing more
than to put at least a ballroom between them because she was beginning to do things she’d sworn never to do again. At least not for a long, long time. Like entertaining the idea of reaching out to touch him to see if his chest was as hard as it appeared beneath that fancy tux.

  But somehow, both of them had sparked a dry bed of kindling inside her, and she was hard-pressed to keep the flames from turning into a full-blown inferno. Which, in her opinion, was utterly ridiculous. It was ludicrous to find one of them attractive. But both of them… That was just too much.

  “Tarik Marx,” the guy said softly, holding his hand out toward her. “And you are?”

  “Sorry,” she said, placing her wineglass on the table and returning the gesture. When his big, warm hand engulfed hers, Mia tried not to focus on the strange tingling sensation that erupted in the tips of her fingers. “Mia Cantrell. Nice to meet you.” She hoped she sounded polite and not incredibly eager to hear him speak in that dark, rich voice for a little while longer. She thought she heard the hint of an accent, but she couldn’t place it.

  Before Tarik said anything more, the man on her other side leaned in, his gruff voice greeting her as well. “It’s nice to meet you, Mia.”

  “You, too, Mr. Pierce,” Mia said quickly, jerking her head toward him, hoping she sounded as though she knew who he was. Truth was, she hadn’t a clue.

  It must’ve worked, because he merely smiled, not bothering to tell Mia to call him by his first name, or even what it was, which only made sense. He was one of those guys. The type who got off on being addressed formally, not caring to make any personal interactions with people he wouldn’t likely see again. Damien was like that, which had always driven her crazy.

  A crooked smile tipped the edge of his impressive mouth, one sleek, dark eyebrow lifting casually as his eyes locked on hers for one heartbeat, then another. She was the one to finally break the stranglehold he had on her with his eyes. Looking across the table, she swallowed hard and ran her damp palms over the napkin in her lap, hoping neither of them noticed. Only then did she offer him her hand.