Played

by Tasha Fawkes

  I froze, choking back my own tremulous tears. With a shaking voice, I tried to explain. “I—I wanted to tell you. I didn’t mean for it to go on so long, or for you to love Ethan. Joel, I care about you…”

  He shook his head, looked right through me, gave one last glance toward Ethan, then turned his back and stepped out of the police station. His father offered a silent shake of his head and followed.

  Even now, three months later, my heart hurt and a lump grew in my throat as I recalled that expression on Joel's face. I sat on the couch that I had gotten from the Salvation Army, staring out my apartment window. I was so ashamed of what I had done, and all for the sake of money. Kelli had played me, just as much she played Joel, and apparently Eric as well, promising that she would marry him as soon as he managed to gain control of the software company.

  Money. It was all about money. I was no better than Kelli in that regard.

  I didn't think it would ever be possible for me to forget the haunted look on Joel's face, or how I’d felt at that very second. It crowded out my thoughts every night before I went to sleep and every morning when I woke up. Nothing I could do or say would ever make up for the pain I had caused him. Nothing.

  I watched Ethan scooching around on his hands and knees in the small playpen nestled between the window and the edge of the couch, smiling, my heart filled with love for him.

  Despite my pleasure to be reunited with my son, however, I couldn't forget what had happened, no matter how hard I tried. Things could have turned out worse. Much worse. I tried not to dwell on what had happened three months ago, but there were times, like today, when I just couldn't stop my thoughts from going there.

  Darkness still bothered me, and ever since that day, I’d plugged nightlights in to illuminate my room while I slept, first at the shelter for a couple of nights, and then throughout the small apartment Ethan and I now lived in. I just couldn’t wake in the dark without reliving the nightmare.

  That day, finding out the truth of Kelli's deceit, and then fearing for my own life, I realized what a complete, naïve fool I had been. Though I had convinced myself I was doing it all for Ethan, I should have known that anything that sounded too good to be true generally was. My own greed for money had compelled me to take the job. It didn't matter that I had been desperate. I had allowed myself to become a part of a horrible plan, one that hurt a man I had grown to care deeply for.

  Ethan wasn't the worse for wear, and even after what I had been through, I considered myself fortunate as well. The person who'd taken the worst brunt of this terrible plan was Joel.

  I still wasn’t exactly sure how my rescue came about, but from what I gathered from Cory, the head of security at Joel’s company and also an investigator with the DA's office, Joel had grown suspicious the moment I disappeared. He had correctly sensed that I would never have left Ethan of my own accord. And he had found out that not only was he not Ethan's father, but Kelli wasn't his mother. Cory had told me that he'd tracked Eric and Kelli's phones to the workshop, then notified the police and the SWAT team.

  While Joel had brought charges against Eric and Kelli, he really had nothing to charge me with other than the most awful of deceits. I had not abandoned Ethan into his care, had not neglected him, and I'd make sure he was well cared for. If there could be a punishment for deceit, other than the heavy shroud of guilt that constantly lay over my shoulders, I was sure I would have been charged with something.

  I’d learned through the newspaper that Joel had fully regained control of his software company, and that several of Graphica's board of directors and some staff, along with Eric, were going to be brought up on charges including bribery, threatening, and tampering, among others. After that first article, I didn't want to read anymore.

  In spite of my guilt, in spite of my reticence to forgive myself for what I had done, things were looking better for me and Ethan. After the debacle, I spent a couple days at a homeless shelter again, trying to figure out what I was going to do. I had the money that had been deposited into an account for me by Kelli, but I found that I couldn't touch it. It was dirty money and now I no longer wanted any part of it. I wrote a check to the homeless shelter for the full amount, to use as they saw fit.

  The second day I was at the shelter, just appreciative of the fact that Ethan was once again in my arms, a middle-aged man with a kind face came in to interview several of the women. He spoke with me, and after some consideration, offered me a part-time administrative job at his health care clinic in Buena Park. He’d explained that his daughter had run away from home young and been sheltered there for a time when she’d given birth and had been too afraid to return home. He’d wanted to pay it forward.

  I accepted. Along with the job, he offered to pay half of my rent on an apartment nearby for the duration of one year — an apartment close enough that I could walk to work. The job was part-time for a probationary period, and then I could go full time if I wanted to. A day care center was located between my apartment and the clinic, and I made arrangements with the owner for part-time child care in exchange for my working for free at the daycare one weekday and a half day on Saturdays.

  All in all, things were looking up. The apartment certainly wasn't anything like Joel's house, but it was certainly better than living in the cramped shelter. I, for one, wasn’t going to complain. Ever again.

  I was carefully saving up what little I could, planning on going back to school to pursue my dream to someday become a nurse. My new boss, David Reed, said that when the time came, we would work something out with my schedule and possible financial support for my schooling if I agreed to work at the clinic for a certain number of years following my graduation.

  I was still exploring exactly what options I had and what field I wanted to go into, but I couldn't ask for more, especially after... after what I had done. I had been wary about Reed at first, but I’d had him checked out before agreeing to employment at his clinic. I’d learned my lesson. But he was genuine, and now I was the grateful recipient of the generosity and support of a local philanthropist who, apparently, often made such gestures to those he found in shelters looking for a hand up, and not a handout.

  It was a start, and it would take me a long while to get where I wanted to be, but I was determined to do things right this time. Never again would I do something that my parents might be ashamed of.

  I knew that eventually, I would have to testify against Kelli and Eric in a court of law, and I dreaded it. I would have to tell the court and the jury my own despicable role in hurting the one person other than Ethan that I cared about most in the world.

  I often thought about Joel, wondered how he was faring. Wishing that once again, I could take a stroll with him in Griffith Park, look up into his handsome face, and watch the way the emotions so apparent in his gaze told me he cared so deeply for Ethan.

  Tears blurred my vision as I gazed down at Ethan, sleeping now, his thumb in his mouth, as my heart ached for what might have been.

  Twenty

  Joel

  I sat on a wooden bench, not far from the Los Feliz Boulevard entrance to Griffith Park, just past the pony and train rides. From my position, I was able to watch people strolling into the park and heading for the merry-go-round, the picnic areas, or one of several walking trails that branched off from the entrance nearby.

  Lifting my face to the warm California sunshine, I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of eucalyptus and pinon pine… and the ponies, hotdogs cooking on the grill, and freshly popped popcorn. I’d come here every day for the past couple of weeks, hoping to get a glimpse of her… and Ethan.

  I wanted to be angry with Sarah. I wanted to be so angry that I could never forgive her for what she had done, for the part she played in Kelli's twisted plan.

  Nevertheless, after full disclosure and conversations with not only the police, but with my security chief and investigator, I had learned why she’d done it. Apparently, Kelli had told her that I was the one who’d b
een caught sleeping with someone, and not the other way around. She had told Sarah that I tossed her out on her ear and she was desperate to make up with me, to get me back. What better way than to approach that plan with a baby in tow?

  It still hurt deeply. I had fallen in love with Ethan, and, now that I had regained control of my company and Kelli’s noise was absent, I realized that I had begun to fall in love with Sarah too. She had gone along with Kelli’s plan because she was a mother and wanted the best for her son. It made me cringe to know she'd been living in homeless shelters.

  My god! If I had been more aware, paid more attention to how Sarah was with Ethan. Watching her with him should have been a dead giveaway — she loved him more than life itself. But as usual, I tended to think the best of people, even Kelli. Not that I was overly trusting, I trusted people who I thought were my friends. Like Eric. That was another blow that cut deeply.

  I had been incredibly angry and bitter for the first couple of months after the betrayals. During that time, things settled down, work was going smooth again. My relationship with my dad was going well. He was being supportive and understanding. Several individuals from Graphica had been arrested and were awaiting trial, as were Kelli and Eric. My life was back on track, but I’d never felt so off track that I could remember.

  I’d forgiven Sarah, not just because she had been lied to as well, but because I knew that it was only a sense of desperation that had driven her to do what she had. That night we'd made love, I’d seen the true Sarah. I had already seen the mother, the caretaker. That night, I had been able to see her as she truly was: passionate, loving, giving… kind. She had a kind soul.

  I’d loved both Ethan and Sarah, but I’d steadfastly refused to contact her since she was rescued, wanting to be sure the feelings I had were real. But now, I wanted to see her. See Ethan. What would happen after that, I didn't know. I had no idea how you went about fixing something like this when everything you had shared was based on a lie.

  But her affection for Ethan hadn’t been a lie. Her response to me on a sexual level had not been a lie. Her kindness and compassion were not a lie. So I decided that re-establishing a connection, if she wanted one, would simply be a one day at a time process.

  I contacted a friend of mine who ran a large clinic down in Buena Park, and without giving him a rundown of what had happened, let him know that Sarah was determined to get back on her feet, go to school, provide a solid environment for her son. David had agreed to hire her, and from his latest update, he couldn't be happier with her work ethic. That made me happy, and proud. I hadn't been wrong about her.

  For now, she didn't need to know that it was me who had arranged her job, her apartment, or the potential long-term contract with the clinic if David—me, again—paid part of her fees to attend school. She was making her own way, and I hoped she knew that she could do it. Someday, she would be able to stand on her own two feet. And she was working at it, getting ready to start classes in the fall, negotiating for child care. She was a strong woman and would become even stronger once her confidence returned.

  Now, here I was, sitting on the bench at the entrance to Griffith Park, remembering the day we spent here. A short time indeed, but long enough for me to realize that I wanted to get to know her better. As a woman, a mother, who had briefly stepped over to the dark side for the sake of her son. It was the love for her son that had attracted me in the first place. A love for her son that I shared. I wanted to be part of his life, if she would let me. And hers.

  If I could just—

  My heart skipped a beat as I saw a shock of medium length brown hair pulled up into a high ponytail. I kept my gaze on that heart-shaped face and gorgeous hourglass figure. And then, as the crowd parted, the stroller came into view. Inside, Ethan was sitting up, wearing a tiny baseball cap. I smiled, relief flooding me.

  I knew I was about to take a big risk, but as I watched Sarah slowly approach, meandering along the pathway as she talked to Ethan, I knew by the reaction of my own body, that she was the one for me. I could get past what had happened, if she could. Together, both of us could recover. I had no doubt of it.

  I had gone through a rough time to get here, yes, but now there was only one piece missing. Well, two.

  Sarah and the stroller were perhaps fifteen feet away when I rose from the park bench and slowly walked toward the path. She glanced my way, back to Ethan, then did a double take, her eyes wide.

  "Hello, Sarah," I said, taking in her beautiful face, noticing the tears that shimmered instantly in those hazel green eyes of hers. "You look good."

  "I… Joel… I didn't expect to find you here."

  Ethan let out a gurgle and a squeal of pleasure. I glanced down and my heart burst with joy as I realized he recognized me and was gazing up at me with a smile on his lips. I smiled back as I crouched and extended my hand toward him. He grasped my finger and pulled it toward his mouth. I laughed the first real laugh in months, and as it rolled through me, the tension I’d held so deep evaporated with it.

  Gazing up at Sarah, a stunned expression on her face, I said, "He hasn't forgotten me. Have you?"

  A tear trickled down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away, a tremulous smile forming on her lips. "Never."

  I stood and gestured down the path. "Shall we?"

  Without a word, she nodded toward the handle of the stroller. My throat closed as I realized she had just taken us back to that day when I’d pushed Ethan through the sunshine. Now was so much better, because our futures waited for us just up ahead.

  This was a first step, a big one. Nothing mattered more to me than this woman and this child. Not my company, not my money, not anything.

  I placed my hand over hers on the stroller, squeezed, and we slowly began walking down that path.

  We hope you enjoyed Played. Turn the page to read Craving My Boss.

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  Craving My Boss

  Sneak Peek

  One

  Ashley

  "Oh fuck! Yes! Give it to me!"

  She arched her back, sweat pouring down the dip in her spine, and hissed as the hot tongue of her lover licked a trail all the way up to her trembling shoulder. In the next instant, a broad hand came down on her ass with a crack like thunder. The smarting pain lanced through her, mingling with her pleasure, and she cried out. Her hands, bound at the wrists behind her back, could do nothing to ward off the punishment. Her lover grabbed a fistful of her raven locks and yanked her head back.

  "I thought I told you to keep that filthy mouth shut," he growled. His lips articulated the harsh words against her ear, and she shuddered. "You know what it does to me to hear you plead like that."

  "I can't help it!" she gasped. Strong hands gripped her waist and overturned her suddenly, throwing her down on her back into the tangle of velvet sheets. Her lover followed her down, his blond hair damp with perspiration, his jaw clenched from the immense effort it took to hold himself back, his fierce green eyes promising swift correction for her mistake. She trembled beneath him as his animalistic gaze raked her. To him, she was a tantalizing dish of trussed-up limbs, a womanly feast who had no choice but to spread for him and let him end her torment with a thrust of his majestic...

  "Ashley!"

  I rocket out of my chair in the break room, the effect of hearing my name like a splash of cold water dumped on the proceedings. I slam the screen of my laptop down quickly as Tory Keppel, inconvenient coworker, strides into the kitchen.

  "I believe the word you are looking for is 'manhood'? Or something similar? Or maybe something more contemporary," she offers as she pulls up the chair beside me and drops down.

  I flush, my tongue as tied as my heroine, but I can't think of a good deflection to throw her off the scent. If she managed to read even a line of my book—

  "You're describing Daniel, right?"

  "No!" My protest sounds stran
gled and comes too readily to be believed. Tory raises a strawberry-blonde eyebrow at me. "I mean… am I?" I feign surprise as I pick at a loose thread on the hem of my skirt. "I hadn't noticed."

  "I mean, I know they tell us to 'write what we know' in every pithy college creative writing class, but wow." Tory whistles. "There's no way you can know that much about our boss."

  "I…" My throat has gone completely dry. Unlike the roll I was on a minute ago, the right words simply won't come. "… Please don't tell anyone, Tory. Especially Stewart," I plead. "It's just something I'm writing for fun."

  I hope the amused twist to Tory’s smile bodes well for me, even if her eyes are skeptical. Stewart, my on-again off-again hookup of two years, is also Tory’s cousin. Stewart definitely doesn't know about my private prose sessions.

  "All right. I won't tell," Tory promises.

  My posture relaxes instantly, and it's all I can do to keep from slipping down in my chair and puddling onto the break room floor. "Thank you." I breathe a sigh of relief.

  "But that tied-up girl is totally you, isn't she?"

  I manage a sheepish grin as I collect my laptop and rise. It’s all for Tory’s benefit—because her conclusion is terrifying in its truth, and I don’t want her to know just how personal that last passage is. Better to put on a show of having come to terms with being caught than give over to the stark panic raging inside of me. I’m confident that for the sake of my relationship with Stewart, she’ll keep things between us.

  What relationship? The little voice in the back of my mind niggles dismally as I stride down the hall toward the small office I share with Tory and another editor. My desk stands in front of the window. Things with Stewart had been—have been—tepid from the start, and that start was two years ago. ‘Tepid’ is definitely an adjective I wouldn’t use in my novel—so why have I made any space for it in my life?