Once I pulled the trigger, everything went silent for a moment.
Ace stood there like a statue and I thought I had missed.
“Son of a bitch!” He bellowed, his shoulder now red with blood. He threw Brooke to the side as he charged at me.
No one interfered in our fight, almost as if they were shocked by the fact Ace had been shot or that he was actually doing his own dirty work.
Hell, he even took me by surprise, slamming me into the wall and winding me for a moment.
It didn’t take long for me to get my bearings. I grabbed his arm and twisted it back, nearly ripping it out of his socket.
He groaned, but flung his head back, hitting me in the nose. I heard it crack, blood rushing out like a fountain.
Outside, the sound of sirens could be heard.
“Don’t just stand there, you idiots! Do something!” He screamed.
His guards went running outside to meet my squad, leaving me alone with Ace.
All his so-called friends had high-tailed it out of there the first chance they got.
We tussled on the ground, but I had the clear upper hand, my rage fueling me like nothing else. I punched his face over and over again until he finally managed to move out of the way. I rammed my hand into the ground. He flung me off him and scrambled for a nearby gun.
Bang!
***
I don’t know how long I was out for, but when I woke up, it felt like I had been hit by a train. Had I died? I hope not… If you can feel pain in Heaven that sure as hell sucks.
Slowly, I tried to open my eyes, only to be met by a bright, white light.
Great, I really was dead.
So much for beating Ace.
I groaned, the pain crippling, especially in my leg, like it had been run over by a train.
“Zach?” The sound was distant, almost as if I was underwater. “Zach?” I heard it again, the voice familiar. “Zach!”
Suddenly, there were arms wrapped around me, causing pain to shoot up my spine.
“You’re awake! Thank goodness you’re awake.” Something wet touched my cheek and I heard someone sobbing.
My mind was muddy, but piece by piece, things were starting to come together.
Brooke!
My eyes shot open and I finally saw her beautiful face, now tear-stricken as she held me closer. Wetting my lips, I tried to speak, but my tongue felt like it had tripled in size.
She seemed to know what I was doing because she pulled away slightly. “Don’t try to speak…” She said, her hand on my cheek, her eyes watery. “God… I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“W-What happened?”
She sighed at my stubbornness. “Ace shot you.” She explained.
“Did he get away?”
“Unfortunately, yes…”
I started to get up, ripping the IVs from my arms. “I have to –”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She said, pushing me back down a little harder than she needed to. “You nearly died. You aren’t getting out of this bed until the doctor says you can and even then, you’re staying with me until you’re fully healed. I’m not letting you go out there and do something stupid again.” Her voice was firm and I knew she wouldn’t let this go.
Suddenly, she kissed me, her lips full of desperate, unspoken emotion. Even without saying a word, I knew that she deeply cared about me, that she was scared of losing me.
We broke away and she looked into my eyes. “Promise you’ll stay with me until you get better.”
I gazed at her worried but determined face. “I promise. But then, I’m going after Ace and finishing him once and for all.”
“Good, because I just enrolled in the police academy.” She winked.
“Brooke...” I was going to say something about her decision but my body suddenly gave in and I dropped back to bed. I could still hear her voice in distance calling for a doctor as I was falling into sleep again.
I may have lost the battle, but I sure as hell wouldn’t lose the war, especially not with Brooke by my side.
THE END
Billionaire’s Nanny
CHAPTER ONE
“You promised you’d come out tonight. You were supposed to pull your nose out of that laptop after we graduated, remember?”
“Cheri, I’m not studying. I’m looking for my career start,” Samantha says.
“I told you, I’m fine to cover your part of the rent again this month. It’s no big deal, now c’mon, let’s get you dre--”
“Cheri! It is a big deal. I’m not your charity case. I’m a grown-ass woman who is perfectly capable of paying her own way.”
“Yes, yes, and I love that you don’t take the easy way for anything. But tonight, my dear, you are my date to the SpaceMark party, and you promised you’d come no matter what,” Cheri says. “You’ve been at this all day--all month. Take one night off and start living your life.”
Samantha knows she is right. She closes her laptop and looks at the open closet where Cheri is already trying on a little black dress and gold heels.
***
An hour later they step out of a cab in front of an impressively large house.
“Jesus, Cheri! What is this place? It looks like the Queen of England’s summer home.”
“This, my dear, is where we are spending our evening. Welcome to the SpaceMark party!”
“I thought we were going to some hotel or event center.”
“Nope. SpaceMark likes to put the personal touch on what they do. It’s hard as hell getting them to buy equipment from us--their rep certainly made me jump through some hoops to make the sale--but they know how to throw a good party.”
The inside pulses with beats. Two women dressed in all gold take their coats and bags, and lead them to the entrance of the ballroom. Samantha pauses at the threshold, a little intimidated by the crowd and extravagance.
“C’mon! You’ll love it,” Cheri shimmies her hips a bit as she reassures Samantha. “Let’s get you a drink.”
Cheri is right. A drink, a little settling in and chatting with some people, and Samantha was starting to have a great time. A man with a shiny suit and very tall hair asks her to dance. She remembers Cheri’s words: “You don’t need to want babies with a guy. Just dance. Just be a person with other people.” So, she dances. And she dances some more. And by the time she goes up to the bar for another drink, she is glistening with the heat of her movement.
Just as she takes her drink from the bartender, an obviously drunk man trips and knocks her hand, spilling her drink down the front of her dress.
“Hey! What the--”
“Guess you should’ve been standing somewhere else little mousey,” the man says as he laughs loudly and points at her dress.
A tall and extremely handsome man appears behind the drunk and firmly takes him by the shoulder. “Excuse yourself,” the handsome stranger says with an edge in his voice. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The laughing stops, color drains from the drunk’s face. “I’m...I...so sorry,” he says as he looks up at this tower of a man. “I just--”
“You just what? Thought it was ok to drunkenly smack into a beautiful woman, ruin her dress, and then make fun of her for the mess you made?”
“Sir, I--”
“You’re done here. Goodnight.” The mysterious man glances at nearby security who immediately step up to accompany the troublemaker to the exit. The drunk hangs his head and walks away without saying another word.
“I’m so sorry, Ms.--”
Samantha is gazing up at this gallant knight, her mouth a little open. Finally, she manages to find her name. “Uh, Ms. Robin. I mean, Samantha. Samantha Robin.”
The knight steps in closer to her and assesses the stain on her dress. He puts a hand on her hip and says, “Well, Ms. Samantha Robin. I know a trick for just such a situation. Will you come with me?” With his hand at the small of her back, he guides her through the crowd, down a dimly lit c
orridor, and into a small library. Upon shutting the heavy door, he says, “Right over there, by the brandy.”
She stands next to a gleaming cart topped with cut crystal decanters of amber liquid.
“Are you a fan of scotch?”
Sam nods, making a mental note that she’s always meant to try scotch.
“Then you should really try this,” he says, pulling the stopper out of the bottle and draining the very last of the liquid from the crystal. “There were only two hundred bottles ever made.”
Samantha lifts the glass to her nose and takes in a long breath of its earthy, sea spray smell.
“It’s like making love at the line where the forest meets the beach, isn’t it?” He looks at Samantha intently while she takes a careful sip. “Now,” he continues without waiting for her opinion, “let’s do something about that dress.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s ruined--”
“Nonsense!” he cuts in. “I have a magic touch. You’ll see.” He winks at her.
Samantha blushes brightly, and nods in agreement. The scotch is warming her all over, and having this handsome stranger help her with her dress, in a remote room of this giant mansion, is exactly where she wants to be right now. This surprises her.
“You’re going to have to trust me,” he says as he steps close enough for her breasts to touch his chest.
Without a thought, she replies, “I do,” again surprising herself.
And with that, the man reaches around and pulls down the zipper of her dress. Samantha’s skin ignites with a flush. She’s motionless, held by this incredibly sexy man’s blue-green eyes.
“This will just take a moment,” he says while grabbing a small white towel from the cart, never breaking his hold on her eyes. “Put this inside your dress under the stain,” he says, smiling in a knowing way.
Samantha usually expects men to take any liberty they can. This one unzipped her dress and went no further. And, Samantha finds herself somehow disappointed. The man goes to quick work with the stain, pouring a little seltzer onto the fabric and firmly dabbing it with a cloth.
“There,” he says as he steps back and admires his work. “The stain is gone, even if you’re still a little wet,” he says and gives her a little wink.
“I am?” she asks in a distant voice, unable to take her eyes off of him.
He lets out a laugh that sounds like a full moon spilling all its silver onto her. “Yeah. It seems just a bit,” and he points his chin at her dress.
“Oh!” she wakes up from her daze and looks down at her dress. “Wow! This is fantastic! Thank you so much.”
“No worries. In college, I used to cater parties like this, and you pick up a trick or two.” He flashes her a smile that makes the space between them feel unbearable big. After they linger in that space for a moment, he continues, “You should probably get back to the party. I bet your friend is looking for you.”
“Oh my goodness! You’re right,” she exclaims as she gathers her things in a fluster. At the door, she turns back around. “Really. Thank you,” she says these words with deep meaning and smiles at the stranger who’d saved her from a jerk and just reminded her that there may be more to life than spreadsheets and marketing plans.
CHAPTER TWO
“I’m here for Arabella Clark. I’m Connor Clark. I’m her father. I got a call she’s here.”
The cop working the front desk scans through a list of names. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t see an Arabella anything here. Are you sure she’s not down at county?”
“No, she’s not down at county, she’s four!” Connor sighs, the tiredness in his voice obvious. “I was told she was picked up by some officers in the park and that she’d be here waiting for me. Now, where’s my daughter?”
“Daddy!” A squeaky voice pipes in behind Connor, and he turns around just in time to catch his twirling daughter. “I’m the chief of police, Daddy! Look!” Her tiny hand waves a plastic gold badge in his face.”
“I see! Well, I’m glad you’re keeping our city safe, lil’ nugget,” he says with a big grin. “Let’s blow this pop stand, whattaya say?”
“Yeah, blow this pop stand,” she joyfully repeats in the way small children do when using new phrases.
“Let me just send a quick message to Gertie to let her know I have you.” Finally relieved that his daughter is safe and sound, Connor fishes his iPhone from a back pocket and quickly types:
The police found Arabella in the park. I just picked her up from the station. She’s obviously not safe in your care, so don’t bother coming in to work tomorrow. Margaret will arrange your severance pay.
This was the second time the nanny had lost Arabella in the city, and the second time the police had to be involved. Connor decides that from now on, he will be personally in charge of the hiring process for the next nanny. He’s refused to staff it out to a placement service, and though Margaret, his house manager, is great at running the properties--he definitely couldn’t do it without her--she just doesn’t have the nose for nannies. Apparently, if he wants something to be done properly, he will have to do it himself.
After signing some paperwork at the police station, Connor decides to spend some quality time with his daughter in the nearby park. There, at the fountain, Arabella runs in circles airplaning her stuffed monkey, Mr. Boots, behind her. Connor watches her with fatherly dedication and knows she is the best thing in his life. He’d do anything for her. That’s why he’s trying to expand into Hong Kong and diversify SpaceMark. That’s the only way to ensure the business will continue to grow and thrive well into her future, and then someday it will be hers. Just as he loses himself in plans and daydreams, his phone buzzes for the fifth time in ten minutes. Only one person calls this insistently, and he knows he can’t ignore her any longer, so he answers without looking at the caller ID.
“Hi, Marla.” He pulls the phone away from his ear a bit to protect his eardrums from the screaming. “Yes, well I’m here now...No, I’m not at the office. I’m with Arabe-.......Marla. Marla...MARLA!”
Arabella jumps a little at his shout but seems used to it enough that she immediately goes back to playing.
“Marla, when you’re like this I can’t have a conversation with you. You can’t scream at me just because I didn’t immediately answer your calls.” He gets up from the bench and walks out of earshot from Arabella, still keeping an eye on her. A few minutes later, the call is over and he releases a big sigh while rolling his eyes, and walks back to where his little girl is mixing the fountain water with a stick.
“Hey, pipsqueak! How about some ice cream?”
“As the chief of police, I think that’s a great idea, Daddy,” she says as she skips and twirls towards the park exit.
CHAPTER THREE
“I see you’re back at your computer,” Cheri says as she walks through the living room on Saturday morning.
“There are only so many ways to find a job, you know,” Samantha says as she takes a sip of her coffee without pulling her eyes from the screen.
“These advertising agencies don’t know what they’re missing. If only they knew they could have an employee that spends so much time at her computer that she is slowly starting to meld together with it!”
Samantha flips her middle finger at Cheri. “I’ve moved on from advertising.”
“Already? You’ve hardly just begun. Come on, girl, I know it takes time to find a decent job but don’t give up just yet.”
“No, I’m not giving up on my dream. Someday I absolutely will run strategy for a top company. I’ve come too far not to. But, you know...I’m not very proud of the fact that you have to cover my own rent, so I’m looking at any and all employment options. I can’t just mooch off my best friend for the rest of my life, no matter how many piles of cash she brings in every month...” Her voice trails off at the end. It has been a couple of months since she graduated in mass media communication with honors. Samantha has always worked hard towards her degree, belie
ving that this edge will ultimately translate into good job offers. How wrong she was! Few months down the road and a couple of unpaid internships, and she still can’t find a decent work. It frustrates her more by every passing week that, no matter how hard she tries, there seem to be always the same story: the HR of whatever company considers her not qualified enough for the post.
Her little savings are drying up faster than she would appreciate it and this month, it’s been the second time that Cheri had to pay the rent for her. Samantha feels embarrassed by this fact, naturally, she doesn’t want to be a burden for her best friend. That’s why she is now looking for any job-- anything that can bring in much-needed cash. And then, in the spare time, she can always continue to search for her dream job. At least, that’s her plan now.
Big Bad Billionaires Page 30