Long ago, her mother made her father promise he would wait to develop the patch of land. When she opened the file earlier, Ryane read that investors were pressuring her father to make a move, have the area be more than a shrine to his dead wife.
She sighed and stepped further into the forest. The thick trees blocked out the late afternoon sun and gave everything a sweet surreal glow, almost as if she were walking through a fairy tale on her way to a gingerbread house. One of the main things she remembered about being out here in the wilderness, as her father called it, was a little lake. When she was a child, her mother would take her here and they would toss stones into the water and watch the rings ripple out from the point of impact.
In an effort to save her shoes, she tiptoed through the leaves and smiled at a little patch of pink flowers. She picked one and continued on her trek, moving a low hanging branch aside and spying the sparkle of the water.
After making her way around some trees, she stopped. Someone was there in her spot, on her land.
At the sight of a man sitting at the edge of the lake on a rock, her heart sped. Not prepared to deal with this trespasser, she went to leave, only succeeding in tripping and catching her hands on a tree before she went down. “Oh.” The bark of the tree dug into her palms and she dropped her flower. “Ah!” She pushed back and stared down at her hands, dirty hands, with indents of tree in her flesh, and to make matters worse, she chipped a nail.
“Hey there, are you all right?” the man called to her. He wasn’t just any man, he had long flowing dark hair and a bit of scruff. Complete in what appeared to be a pair of ripped jeans and a well-worn leather jacket. If he were in the city, he might be able to pass as a trendy, rock star type, but out here he was most definitely a maniac wanting to kill her, or trap her like an animal.
Her breath caught and she nodded. “I’m fine.” She struggled to speak and put her hand on her bag in case she had to get something to defend herself. Lipstick and her out of range cell phone wouldn’t provide much defense. By the time someone found her dead body, the man could have dragged her anywhere or thrown her to the bottom of the lake. “I won’t bother you.” She would leave the land that belonged to her and get the proper people to get rid of him.
“Who said you were bothering me?” the man asked.
“I’m just going to go.” She took one slow step back, her feet crunching on the leaves and branches below her. Now she ruined her shoes for nothing and she would have to return to the world. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”
“Just because someone is here doesn’t mean you can’t be here,” he said.
The man had a point. At least she'd found herself an intellectual serial killer. “Be that as it may, I think I’ll just go back.” She had to get her chipped nail fixed before her grand dinner tonight.
“Before you go, may I ask you a question?” He turned, but made no indication he was going to move or run after her.
“Just one.” She hugged her purse to her chest. Maybe if she appeased him, he wouldn’t follow her when she left.
“Why is it that people are so terrified when they see another human being? I mean isn’t that how we meet, what binds us together? Everyone always starts out fearful and defensive.” When he tilted his head, his hair fell in his face, and he did that thing only guys with long hair did and flipped it back. His hair obeyed and drifted off to one side.
“I think it would depend on where you meet. I think it’s safe to say when one walks through a forest, encountering another person would be unlikely. It is a remote location, probably not the safest for a woman to go walking around alone.” There, she gave him an answer, now she had to depart.
“Then why are you walking out in the forest alone?” A smile lit up his face, showing off perfectly white teeth and a pair of dimples.
No way would she tell this man she owned the rock he sat upon and everything else, that would only ensure she would never see another sunrise. “I don’t know.” She exhaled and took a moment to stare out at the water. “I wanted to see how far my cell site would reach. How far did I have to drive to not be reachable?”
“And turning off your phone never occurred to you?” He laughed, deep and hearty as if he were completely and utterly amused.
She glanced down at the chip in her nail and ran a fingertip over the sharp imperfection marring her perfect French manicure. “I can’t turn it off, then I would be cheating.” She bent down, picked up the flower, then walked toward him. “If I turn it off, it would be considered irresponsible. Even my father can’t control if there’s a cell site, though you would think he could.”
He rubbed his hand over his chin. “Do you have a cell site now?”
Her chest seized. This was why no one believed in her. Here she drove away, far away, purposely going to a place where technology didn’t reach and this man was double checking she didn’t have some super cell phone in order to take his time torturing her. “Actually, I do, my experiment didn’t work.” She slid her cell phone out of her purse.
“You’re a bad liar.” He leaned back on the rock. “If I told you that there is no way I could run after you, nor do I have the desire to do you any harm, would you sit down, take in your pretty pink flower and enjoy the fact that you are off the grid? I’ll even lend you this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little nail file.
What her father would call stupidity, she called trust. Somewhere there had to be one good person who simply wanted to sit and look out at the lake. Almost as if she were under a spell, she tiptoed toward him, took his offering and then sat down on the edge of the rock. “Thank you, I’m—”
“No.” He cut her off. “Don’t tell me. No names, no games, no charade. Just two people who need to not have a cell site.”
“All right. That seems reasonable. No names, no games, no charade.” She would never give him her last name on the off chance he knew the Windsomes. Not used to tending to herself, she filed her nail, making it lopsided, but at least there was no chip. “Why don’t you want a cell site?”
“Every phone call I get seems to hold one horror story or another. Something I have to deal with, something I have to do, a commitment I don’t want to keep. The people I want to talk to never seem to call, those I don’t want to hear from have me on speed dial.” His voice lowered. “And you?”
He stared at her, revealing the most amazing blue eyes, light, shining and clear. In fact, now that she really took him in, he wasn’t a crazed mountain man, but one of those men who innately possessed style and edge, with a ring of a snake on one finger and a leather cuff on his wrist. She was the polar opposite in her designer business suit and smart jewelry. Part of her wished she could let loose and put on some leather and lace, maybe have something with a skull. Wouldn’t that shock her father?
“I think you and I are leading the same life, we’re just in different dimensions.” She gave him back the file.
“Most people aren’t all that different.” He twirled the little tool between his fingers. “Trying to hold on to something we want even if we shouldn’t have it. Trying to let go of something we have even if we need it.”
“Are you a scholar or wizard or something?” How did this man say exactly what was in her mind?
“No, just a guy with too much time and not enough sense.” He picked up a small pebble and tossed it into the lake. The small rock barely made a splash, but she watched the ripples anyway.
“I’m a girl with no time and a lot of dollars.” She shook her head and lifted her flower. When had she simply appreciated a flower? Last time she checked, she was upset the floral arrangement delivered to her office didn’t have the right pink roses. “Maybe I need to take the time to learn some stuff, look at a sunset, talk to a nameless man.”
“All things money can’t buy.” His voice echoed through the space.
They faced each other.
“Strange, isn’t it?” she whispered. How did she have a connection to a man who she didn’
t know?
“Not really,” he said. “Maybe when you are caught up with whatever you do, you can remember that what you really want is free of charge, and that will give you a little comfort.”
“Who are you?” She had to know.
“Exactly what you see.” His tone teased her.
Ryane shook her head. Though she needed to leave, get back to her own life, deal with her father and dinners and trying to learn the business, she couldn’t quite move away from him yet. “Well, at least tell me what I should call you.”
He stared out over the lake as his long hair blew in the light breeze. “Why don’t you give me a name you find fitting?”
“I don’t understand.” Instead of leaving, she continued to sit there on the rock with the strange man.
“What does it matter what my name is?” He faced her. “I would rather you call me something you come up with. Isn’t it much more personal that way?”
The way his blue eyes took her all in and how his soft voice seemed to caress her, her breath caught and she swallowed. “Personal?”
“Yes, Petals, personal.” A low laugh escaped his throat. “Never be scared of being personal, be afraid when things become impersonal, then it means it doesn’t matter anymore.”
She paused. His words came out laced with sadness and she swore she felt heat form behind her eyes. “Petals?”
“It fits you. It came naturally. Soft and sweet, exceptionally beautiful and hiding something." He shrugged. “Your wheels are turning.”
“That’s not what some would say.” No, most would call her indecisive, incapable, and inept. However, the man did call her beautiful.
Again, he turned and looked out at the water. “Well, the some you speak of aren’t here, and I only see pretty Petals.”
She crossed her arms. “Maybe I don’t want to be soft and sweet.” No, not sweet. She wanted to be hard, a businesswoman, she wanted to be ruthless and cunning, a force to be reckoned with.
“You can’t deny what you are.” He shook his head. “Took me a long time to realize that.”
“I don’t think I’ve learned that lesson yet,” she whispered.
Together they remained side by side. The sun lowered in the sky, appearing as if it was melting behind the mountains in the distance. Before she lost all the light, she had to leave. “I need to go.” She slipped down the rock, falling with a thud into a little patch of moss.
He slid down the rock and offered her his hand. “You need to be careful.”
Without even thinking, she placed her hand in his and he helped her up.
“Thank you.” She didn’t let go. Instead, she took a moment to let his soft hand encompass hers.
“Consider me at your service.” He dipped his head down and kissed the back of her hand.
“Knight.” Her cheeks heated and she bit her lip. Like he predicted, his name simply came to her.
“Pardon?” He raised his eyebrows.
“You’re like a knight.” A bit of confidence racing through her, she reached over and found a branch. “In fact, that’s what I’ll call you.” As if she were truly knighting him, she tapped the stick on both his shoulders.
He bowed his head. “I must say, Petals, I am honored.”
“I really have to go.” She looked down. For the first time in a long time she didn’t have a pit in her stomach weighing her down. Part of her never wanted this moment to end. The magic would be gone.
“Go chew up the corporate world, but don’t forget to stay soft and sweet.” He let his hand slip away from hers, then reached over and gave her the flower and returned to his perch on the rock.
The moment he let go her body tensed. Reality was out there, back in meetings and contracts and deals. “Will I see you again?”
“Apparently, I’m a knight. If you need me you’ll know where to find me.” He gave her a wink.
“Goodbye.” Not wanting to let him out of her sight, she backed up. All she knew was she would have to return.
Chapter Five
“She didn’t know who I was. There wasn’t even a spark.” Nash crossed his arms and stared down his best friend and former Spectre lead singer, Erik Renevant. “It’s really over.”
Once his stepmother and her minions left his cottage, he cleaned some more, vowing the kitchen would be in working order before he finished for the day. Since the place was still uninhabitable, before he drove back to his apartment, he decided to take a break and go visit the lake only a few acres from his property. A lifetime ago, his parents would take him swimming there. Little did he know he would be discovered by a lost angel who called him Knight. After she left, he headed here, to his friend, the one man who would understand his dilemma.
“Christine didn’t know who I was when she broke into my home and moved in.” Erik reclined in one of the chairs of the theatre where he and his wife lived.
“I may have broken in, but you asked me to stay.” Erik’s wife, Christine, stomped out onto the stage. “You even left me gifts.” She put her hands on her hips.
“That’s because I fell in love with you instantly and never wanted you out of my sight,” Erik called to her.
“That’s better.” She rubbed her protruding stomach and picked up a piece of sheet music.
“You wear a mask. I really don’t think it’s the same thing.” Nash took a long drink of his beer. The explosion that destroyed half of Erik’s face caused him to be a recluse until his wife entered the picture. “Even with you and Christine appearing on the Stage of Stars and people talking about Spectre, she had no clue as to who I am.”
Erik tutored Christine, making her quite a musical force to contend with, and she even won the renowned reality competition Stage of Stars. Her success brought Erik back into the light and he performed with her. Though they asked Nash more than once to join him, without the rest of the band it didn’t feel right.
“Do you really think you should be drinking around the baby?” Erik pointed at Nash’s bottle.
“I had nothing to do with this or any other pregnancy. I think I’m safe.” He polished off the drink and grabbed a second one out of the bag he brought with him.
“With your reputation, that is only a miracle of luck.” Erik shrugged.
“It’s only a reputation. I may or may not have embellished the truth on my extracurricular activities over the years.” He gave a sideways glance to his friend.
“I had a feeling.” Erik shook his head. “Why this sudden confession?”
After another long pull of his drink, he answered, “Death brings out truth.”
“Poignant,” Erik said. “Maybe it’s time to face other truths.”
“Such as?” Knowing what came next, he clutched the arm of the chair.
“Laura.” His friend dropped her name with a thud.
Nash glanced over at the bag of rations he brought with him. At the mention of her name, the bottle of whiskey called to him, but long ago he promised himself never to get drunk and think of her again. “Death also brings about other endings.” Erik thought no one could handle his face, but the woman Nash thought he loved couldn’t deal with the loss of fame, or the limp, a daily reminder of what he would never be again. For ten years they stayed in touch and he held out hope. He fulfilled his carnal needs from other sources and earned his reputation, but when the woman didn’t show to his father’s funeral, he knew there would never be a chance for them.
“Understood.” Erik’s voice lowered.
“I wanted to move on. I used to put it on you that I couldn’t, but now I know it’s me.” Nash told him. “I was waiting for a sign and today it came in the form of an angel who didn’t know who I was. Nothing in her eyes even spoke of recognition in any form.”
“Perhaps she simply has poor taste in music.” Erik shrugged. “Also, I quite doubt that she was expecting to see a famous lead guitarist in the middle of nowhere. I’m surprised she didn’t go off running and screaming. You’re a mess, you look like a wild man.”
“Thank you, the whole not recognizing me thing, coupled with telling me I look like a disaster is doing wonders for my ego.” Nash ran his hand over his beard, the same beard he was usually obsessed with, but one he hadn’t tended to in a while. Perhaps his friend had a point. Not that it mattered, a woman like Petals, with her pristine little business outfit, her freshly manicured nails, and long blonde hair that appeared as if a salon followed her around to keep her hairstyle perfect, wouldn’t be returning to the lake. “She asked if she would see me again.”
“What did you say?” Erik sneered at his bottle of water then leaned over and grabbed one of the beers.
“Are we ready to practice?” Christine spoke into the microphone set up on the stage. “The baby is getting hungry.”
“Hold that thought.” Erik elbowed him, then lifted a remote, hit a button, and opened his drink. “Christine needs to sing.”
Light rock music filled the air and right on cue Christine came in. Her heavenly voice filled the theatre.
Nash sat back. Since Erik met his wife, Nash had watched this woman come into her own. A talent in her own right, she was a testament to what could happen with the right collaboration.
Her soprano voice filled the air, her timing perfect, and she hit every note. As she continued her song, he noticed how her actions mimicked Erik’s when he used to take center stage. They were a couple in every way down to creating a new life together.
When was the last time he felt part of another person? Did he ever feel that way about Laura? He didn’t know or remember. With his father gone, he didn’t even have family to anchor him. All he had was a cottage bordering on a shack and a hope he may see Petals again, and that made him more than pathetic.
The song ended and both he and Erik broke into applause.
Christine bowed. “I’ll get dinner on the table. I made Nash’s favorite, roast chicken and red potatoes. Maybe after, we’ll all make some music?” She waved and left the stage.
Fantasy: A Modern Romance Inspired by Cinderella (Seductively Ever After) Page 3