Indebted: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance

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Indebted: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance Page 6

by Tharp, Emma


  Never in my wildest teenage dreams could I have imagined what it would feel like to have Liza's attention focused on me. Her lips on mine, her hands all over my body. I used to think about how good it would feel, but the dream couldn't touch reality. And now the possibility of destroying what Liza and I have started to build is inconceivable.

  It's all so new to me. I've never wanted a woman for more than a few nights. Now, I don't want to be away from Liza for that long. Could I give up the single life that I love so much? It’s all I’ve ever known. Am I ready to be in a monogamous relationship with Liza? I think I am—because the thought of losing her scares the shit out of me. What if she walked away from me again like she did before? I can’t let my mind go there.

  I realize that Liza could hurt me, badly. But this feeling is like a drug and I don't want to give it up. I'm diving into the deep end headfirst.

  My cell phone buzzes with a call from Garrett.

  "What's up?" I ask.

  "Good morning to you, too. Hope I'm not disturbing anything?"

  "No. I have a meeting in thirty minutes, but nothing else that’s pressing at the moment." I tap my fingers on my desk.

  He clears his throat. "Camille is wondering if you’re taking anyone to the gala?"

  "I asked Liza to go, but I'll call her and confirm today. Why?" I ask. There's more suspicion in my tone than I mean to have.

  "I'm not sure. Other than Camille was curious. She really likes Liza." I hear the sounds of Garrett tapping away on his keyboard. Ever the multitasker.

  What's not to like? She's smart, funny, witty, and sexy as hell. It is nice to hear that Camille likes her though. If everything goes as planned and I end up with Liza, it’d be nice to have her get along with my family. Wow. These thoughts are so foreign to me. It’s going to take some time to get used to them. "Okay. I'm glad she likes her."

  "Everything going as planned? With Liza, I mean."

  Swallowing hard, I consider how much information I should give my brother. It's all so new, I want to hold it close to my chest for a while. "It sure is. I'm going to let you go so I can give Liza a call to confirm plans."

  "We’ll see you tomorrow night." He ends the call.

  I dial Liza’s number and can hardly wait to talk to her.

  "Hello, Donovan," Liza says, her voice sweet and seductive, reminding me of the way she panted my name over and over last night when I gave her her fourth orgasm…or was it the fifth? It's hard to keep track, there were so many.

  "Liza, how was your meeting?"

  "Great, I booked a bar mitzvah for next month." Her tone is full of excitement.

  My heart swells hearing how happy she is. Every day the woman gains self-confidence and it looks so good on her. "You deserve all of this success."

  "Thank you. I owe it all to you."

  "No. It's all you with your amazing cooking and perfect parties. I only gave you a nudge."

  I hear a timer go off in the background. "I appreciate all of your help, Donovan."

  "Are you busy?" I hope she’s not.

  "No, I just finished making a batch of cupcakes."

  "I hope you’ll be bringing them over later so I can sample them?" It's my subtle way of inviting her over.

  There's a pause on the line and some clattering of pans. "Sure, I'd love for you to eat my cupcakes." Her voice gets low and husky.

  Great, now all I'm going to be able to think about is going down on Liza and all those sexy sounds she makes when I do it. I clear my throat. "I'll see you tonight. But I wanted to remind you of the gala tomorrow night. Can you still make it?"

  "Is this for work? Another event to get ideas for my catering company?"

  "No. This one's for pleasure."

  I'm taking it upon myself to be responsible for bringing Liza as much pleasure as humanly possible.

  Sixteen

  Liza

  "This is your first time at one of these?" Donovan asks. The way his eyes scan my body, like I'm the most gorgeous woman who's ever existed, has me looking forward to tonight when I can take this dress off and be in his arms again.

  From the second he picked me up this evening, he hasn't been able to keep his eyes or hands off me, and I feel the same.

  I've never had these feelings before, for anyone, but now, Donovan has me wishing for things that I never thought were possible. A real relationship with a man who has mutual respect for me.

  My insides feel like jelly thinking about how this all started back in high school. I loved Donovan as a friend back then, and he's always had respect for me no matter what. And now, fifteen years later, there’s so much more between us. Time and maturity have allowed our relationship to become one I have faith in and hope for.

  I could be getting ahead of myself, but I'm going with my gut and it tells me that I found the man of my dreams.

  "No, I've been to many galas, but every time I've been on the other side of the roasting pan, working for other restaurants.” I laugh. "In fact, I think I've seen you around. Typically, with a different girl on your arm every event." At the time, it didn’t bother me, but now I get a pang of envy for all of those other women.

  He takes my hand in his and lays a gentle kiss on the back of it. "Not anymore. How come I never saw you?"

  I would always question whether or not I should say hello to him and ask if he recognized me, but I didn't want him to see me and take pity on me. "You never paid attention to the help. And you were always at the bar,” I say teasingly.

  Donovan tips his head back and laughs. It warms my heart to hear it. "Sounds about right."

  "Oh, there's your brother," I say, pointing in Garrett's direction. "Why don't you go talk to him? I have to run to the ladies’ room."

  Donovan grabs both of my cheeks and plants a slow, steamy kiss on my lips, one that sends a pulse between my legs. "Okay, but don't be long."

  We stand together and he takes my hand. Walking together for a few feet, he kisses me one last time before we go our separate ways.

  My belly flutters all the way to the restroom. Someone follows me in and I turn to see a beautiful red-haired woman in a forest-green gown. She eyes me up and down, her gaze raising the hairs on the back of my neck. "You're with Donovan Monroe?" She says it like she can’t believe he could possibly be with me.

  It's really none of this woman's business, but I'm quite proud of the fact that I am with him, so I don’t deny it. "I am. Do you know him?”

  “I do.” Her voice has a seductive lilt, giving me the sense that she’s familiar with him. She pulls a tube of lipstick out of her clutch and applies a fresh coat of mauve to her lips. “We’ve had business dealings. He’s one hell of a catch, but doesn’t seem like the settle down type. You should hold on to him if you can.” And with that, she turns on her heel and walks out the door.

  Sighing, I lean against the edge of the sink and for a minute, my old, sad, stupid insecurities come flooding back. What the hell, Liza? Donovan Monroe is here with you. And he asked me to take a vacation with him. He doesn’t care that my business wasn’t successful at first. He helped me and now it’s starting to thrive. I deserve him. And I plan on holding on to him, and not because Miss Red Hair told me to. I am because we’re meant to be together. I know that as sure as I know anything else in my life.

  Seventeen

  Donovan

  Damn. I am one lucky guy. I'm here with the most beautiful woman. The dress she's wearing is red and sparkly. It hugs all the right places and hits mid-thigh, showing off her gorgeous toned legs. My mouth waters thinking about having them wrapped around me later. Watching her walk to the bathroom, I can't peel my eyes away until she rounds the corner and I can't see her anymore.

  All the pieces of my life are falling into place. My success, my mind, body, and now my heart.

  I walk up to Garrett at the bar and pat him on the shoulder. "I'll have what you're having."

  He orders another whiskey on the rocks and looks in my direction. "Hey, man. Where's Liza
?"

  "She's in the ladies’ room. Where’s Camille?"

  He hands me my drink and we walk away from the bar area. "She's back at the table. It's too bad we don't have seats near each other. Must've been an oversight," Garrett says.

  I'm okay with us being at separate tables tonight. Not that I don't love my brother and Camille. I do, but I'm still basking in the glow of the newness of Liza and me. "We can mingle after the meal."

  "Okay. How has everything been going with Liza?"

  Having a sip of my whiskey, I take a moment to answer. I will open up to him, eventually. "It's going well."

  "Is your plan working? Have you managed to get her to fall for you yet? I know you've been working hard at it."

  Clearing my throat, I loosen the tie around my neck. It makes me sick thinking about the fact that I wanted to hurt her like that. I was a fucking idiot. "Can we not talk about this now?"

  "Okay, man. I was just curious. It's been your plan from the second you saw her loan application cross your desk. I just wanted to know how it was all working out."

  "Your plan? You wanted to get me to fall for you? Am I some sort of game to you?" Liza moves to stand in front of me. She’s scowling and her face is as red as her dress.

  Oh, shit. How much did she hear? "Please, Liza. This is all a misunderstanding.”

  "I don't think it is. I heard your conversation loud and clear." Her eyes are watery and full of pain. She turns on her heel and runs off.

  "Liza, wait!" My heart skids to a stop. It's torture watching her leave, knowing it's my fault.

  "Sorry, man," Garrett says, regret in his tone.

  "I never chase anyone," I declare, the appetizers I just ate sitting like a rock in my gut, churning around. "This is inconvenient."

  Garrett grabs me by the shoulder and looks me straight in the eye. "I can tell you’re worked up over her. There's more going on than you're letting on, and you need to go after her."

  It's true. I could never hide things from my big brother. "You're right. I have to get out of here."

  I race through the hall, looking in every direction, but I don’t see her. She's probably gone home.

  Outside, I run to my car and scan the streets as I make my way to her apartment. I don't see her. She must've grabbed a cab.

  Regret stabs sharp like a knife in my chest as I drive down the streets of New York. Of course, traffic is hell and every minute that slips by feels like an hour. What have I done?

  Revenge tastes bitter, bilious and acidic.

  Toxic like poison.

  When I finally get to her building, there's nowhere to park. I don't give a damn; I double-park and jump out of my SUV. I race up all the flights of stairs and eventually make it to her door. I pound on it relentlessly. "Liza, please talk to me."

  It's quiet. I don't even hear footfalls.

  "I messed up. Big time. And I’m so sorry. You have to forgive me.” I wipe at my nose with the back of my hand. “It’s true. At first, I wanted to get you back for all of the years I loved you and you didn't love me back. I was trying to make you fall for me. I thought when that happened, that I'd be able to walk away from you." I spit out a harsh, bitter laugh with zero humor in it. "I was delusional. How could I believe that I would ever be able to be close to you and not fall, too? Because I did. Liza, I’m falling for you and I don't want to let you go. Please don't let me go. Again."

  I knock once more for good measure, but she doesn't answer.

  I hope I didn't mess this up beyond repair. Unlike in high school, I'm not going to give up without a fight this time.

  Eighteen

  Liza

  "Do you have any butter?" I ask Spencer. I'm in his kitchen. Making brownies. It's breakup food.

  "Shouldn't I be cooking for you?" he asks, going to the refrigerator and pulling out a stick of butter.

  "No, I have to do this." Baking will help calm my nerves. It gives me something else to focus on other than how I just had my heart stomped on.

  As soon as I left the gala, I hailed a cab and came directly to Spencer's apartment. I couldn’t be alone and needed my best friend. Thank goodness he was home.

  When he opened the door, I was sobbing. He didn't ask questions, just gave me a big hug and let me cry it out on his shoulder.

  After what felt like an hour, the tears finally slowed down and I was able to tell him all about how Donovan ruined everything that I thought we were building—and how it was all a big game to him.

  It was like having my heart cut in half hearing Garrett ask Donovan if his plan was working out. Spencer was as mad as I was listening to the details. How could Donovan want to hurt me so badly? What kind of a person would play with someone's emotions like that? And the worst part was, he tricked me so well into believing that he had feelings for me.

  "Okay, cook away." Spencer leans against the counter.

  I swallow back a sob and nod.

  "Do you need some wine, princess?"

  Stirring the batter, I let the movement calm me. Alcohol doesn’t seem like such a good idea. It’d be too easy to get drunk and do something stupid, like call Donovan and make a complete fool of myself. "No. I will have some tea if you have it."

  "You know I do." Spencer fills his kettle with water then puts it on the stove.

  Pouring the batter in a pan, I put it in the oven.

  We both take a seat at his small table in the kitchen.

  “So what are you going to do now?” Spencer props his elbow on the table and rests his head in his hand.

  I suck in a long breath and really think about my answer. My heart aches in my chest and hopelessness washes over me. “I move on with my life. It’s the only choice I have.”

  Spencer sits up straight and nods. “Yes. You’re going to get up, dust yourself off, and keep moving forward.”

  Everything I thought I wanted just got yanked out from under me, but my company is doing well. That’s where my focus is going to be from here on out.

  * * *

  “That was an excellent party. My daughter is so pleased. Thanks again, Liza,” my client says as she hands me a check. It’s the final payment for the sweet sixteen party I just catered.

  “I’m happy that you all enjoyed the party,” I tell her as I tuck the check into my purse and put my coat on.

  “Let us know if you have any future events you need catered, or if you have friends or family who need us. We appreciate referrals,” Spencer chimes in.

  “Without a doubt, I will.” She walks us to the door and sees us out.

  I grab Spencer’s arm as we make our way to the elevator. Once inside and out of ear shot of our client, I say, “Wait until you see the tip she gave us.” Tugging the check out of my purse, I hand it him.

  His eyes widen and he shrieks as he dances around in a circle. “Woah. Let’s go out and celebrate.”

  As much as I’d like to revel in our success, I’m not feeling it.

  It’s been two weeks since I found out Donovan’s true intentions. Two weeks of phone calls and texts from him that I’ve ignored. Two weeks of feeling empty without him. It’s been the longest fourteen days of my life.

  And sadly, all of my success feels lackluster now without him.

  “You go out. I’m exhausted.” I fake a huge yawn.

  The elevator dings that we’re on the ground floor. Spencer hands me the check back and I put it in my purse. “Going out might cheer you up. We could look for guys together.”

  “Nah. I’m not ready for that yet, Spencer, but thank you for trying. Just give me a little more time.” Or a lot more. I don’t know how long it’s going to take for me to get over Donovan, but I have a feeling it’s going to be a very long time before I give someone my heart again.

  “Anything you need, princess.” He puts his arm around me as we head outside to hail a cab.

  My phone dings with an incoming text message. I’d like to ignore it, because I have a feeling it’s Donovan. Again. But I can’t disregard it in ca
se it’s a client.

  Please talk to me. I want to explain.

  Tears burn the back of my eyes. I power off the phone and throw it in my purse. There’s no explanation Donovan can give me that will make up for what he did.

  It’s over.

  Nineteen

  Donovan

  I’m being ghosted. It’s a strange feeling, since I’m usually the one who’s doing the ghosting.

  Liza won’t return my calls and I don’t even know if she’s reading my texts. It’s maddening. If she’d give me five minutes to talk to her, I could try to explain to her where I was coming from and then I’d proceed to beg for her forgiveness. On my hands and knees if need be.

  The last two weeks have been absolute torture. I’ve never had these feelings for any woman—with the exception of Liza herself in high school. I care for her in a way that scares me and thrills me all at the same time. This woman has me wanting to settle down. There’s nobody else I want.

  At the gym last weekend, the woman I hooked up with before Liza was there again throwing herself at me. I didn’t want anything to do with her. She promised to do things to me that would’ve had me jumping at the chance before Liza. Not now. Liza has ruined me for all other women.

  I need to get her back.

  Putting my feet up on my couch, I dial my sister’s number.

  “Hi, Donovan.”

  “Giselle. How are you?”

  “Besides being swamped at work, I’m great. How about you?” she asks.

 

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