Oh, Lauren and Julia had both done their damndest to, as they’d so succinctly put it, “get her out there”. Julia had moved back to San Francisco almost a year ago and was occupying the flat just below hers. She was also dating a seriously gorgeous guy – the co-owner of the firm she worked at – and had tried on numerous occasions to fix Angela up with one of Nathan’s friends. Julia, who was admittedly a fantastic cook, also tried on a regular basis to make Angela eat more. Thus far, her efforts on both counts had been largely unsuccessful.
And Lauren, whenever she happened to be in San Francisco, practically manhandled her – not an easy feat, considering the eight inch difference in their height – to go out to dinner or dancing or drinking – usually all three. She continued to bully Angela to move on, find someone else, enjoy life again.
Thus far, however, Angela had continued to resist getting involved with another guy, whether it be a full-fledged relationship or simply a meaningless one night stand. She was surprised – given her gaunt frame and total indifference to her appearance – when men still approached her at clubs or bars, leading her to wonder just how desperate some of them were.
But now she sensed it wasn’t like that with Dwayne, that his intent in befriending her wasn’t solely to get her in bed. He was just, she realized with something of a shock, being a good guy.
And as she let herself inside the house, a rare smile crossed her features as she realized it had been a long, long time since she’d felt like this – like maybe, just maybe, life could be worth living again.
PART THREE
The Angel
Chapter Fifteen
April, Present Day
The view of the San Francisco Bay and Sausalito harbor from the back deck had been one of the primary reasons Nick had bought this grand home nearly a decade ago. There were other reasons, of course – its size and spaciousness; the clean, sleek lines of its design; the complete privacy it afforded him; and its close proximity to San Francisco, just a quick drive across the Golden Gate Bridge. But if pressed to pick the one thing that had really sealed the deal for him when it had come time to make a final decision, the view had very likely been the deal maker.
He stood at the deck railing now, cradling a glass of merlot in his hand as he watched the sun begin to set over the harbor. The dozens of houseboats and other sailing craft moored there were all beginning to turn their lights on, creating something of a fairytale atmosphere, and from a distance he could glimpse both tourists and locals alike as they strolled along Bridgeway, the main thoroughfare in town where most of the shops and restaurants were located.
He had felt an affinity with this house the moment he’d walked inside accompanied by the real estate agent, and knew he had to have it. Over the years the house, with its stellar waterfront views and sheltered back deck and garden, had become far more than a home to him. This was his private place, his sanctuary, and he could count on one hand the number of people he had ever invited inside – just his parents and a couple of very close friends. And he’d never, ever, brought a woman here, refusing to share his sacred space with any of the ones he’d had brief, fleeting relationships with. And, even though they’d been together for nearly a year, he’d never brought Angela here, either.
“Fuck.”
His breath expelled in a sigh of frustration as he realized where his thoughts were taking him once again. Ever since he’d seen her earlier today it had been nearly impossible to get her out of his head. A whole gamut of emotions had been twisting him into knots for hours now, emotions that he’d rarely if ever allowed himself to feel. For the most part, Nick had lived his life without a single regret, had never permitted himself to look back and wish he’d done something differently, and he’d certainly never felt the least bit guilty about the choices he’d made. With one exception to all of these things – namely, Angela Del Carlo.
He’d struggled with the guilt for years now, ever since the night he’d cruelly broken things off with her, had practically pushed her out of his car. He had forced himself to harden his heart on that awful night, to block out the sounds of her pitiful sobs and desperate pleas to give her another chance. It had been the only way he’d been able to actually go through with it, to end the relationship he should have never entered into in the first place.
But the guilt and regret he’d experienced during these past few years were nothing compared to the overwhelming remorse that he’d felt the moment he had seen Angela again today. She’d born little resemblance to the sultry, sexy beauty who’d more or less been his sexual slave for nearly a year. Little by little he’d deliberately molded her to fit his picture of the ideal woman – urging her to put on weight so that she’d have curves in exactly the right places; picking out the sort of clothing for her that he found the most alluring; teaching her exactly how to please him in bed. The image of how she’d looked that last night was burned into his memory banks, never to be forgotten – the way her long, dark hair had fallen in shimmering waves nearly to her waist; how that white dress had clung to her sleek, toned curves and bared a great deal of those gorgeous, shapely legs; how her beautiful dark eyes and wide, full-lipped mouth had been perfectly made up, not overdone or flashy, but just enough to enhance her natural beauty.
But the woman he’d seen today was nothing like the beautiful, passionate woman who’d been his lover once upon a time. The woman who’d stood across that desk, staring at him with an empty, soulless expression, was a shadow of her former self – in more ways than one. Painfully thin now, practically a goddamned walking skeleton, her ugly pantsuit had hung loosely on her emaciated frame. Her once glowing complexion was sallow, her cheekbones hollowed out and her big eyes sunken in. She hadn’t worn a scrap of makeup, and there had been dark circles under her eyes. Her hair had been ruthlessly scraped back into a knot, and at first glance he hadn’t noticed her wearing any jewelry at all, not even a watch.
But it had been the look in her eyes – or lack thereof – that had really disturbed him. Her voice had sounded hollow and lifeless, and Angela herself looked like all the life had been sucked out of her.
And then there had been her hands – their extreme iciness startling - and he’d had to force himself not to flinch when he’d touched her. She’d always had such soft, warm hands, and he’d loved the feel of them as they’d caressed every inch of his body. Now they were as pale and bony as the rest of her, and their coldness made him worry that she was sick. Or anorexic.
Nick reached for the bottle of wine he’d left on the deck table, grimacing slightly when he noticed how much of it he’d already consumed. But, what the hell, he thought in disgust. He needed something to help numb these feelings of guilt that were threatening to choke him. He’d never imagined that Angela wouldn’t get over him, wouldn’t have moved on a long time ago. She’d been so young, had so much going for her – beauty, brains, ambition. He’d been shocked to learn she had pretty much just up and left Jessup Prior, leaving behind an impressive book of clients – many of whom he’d directed her way – and started from scratch at Morton Sterling. And then to learn she’d chosen to work with a soul-sucking bitch like Barbara Lowenstein rather than remain in the same office as himself – well, that had really made him feel like shit. He had never meant to drive her away, to make things so painful that she’d had no other choice but to leave her job.
Nick gave himself a mental kick in the ass when he recalled the last time he’d seen Angela before today – at another of those useless office meetings. He’d known she would be there, had been half afraid that she would try to approach him, and had wanted to avoid an awkward scene at all costs. So he’d been even more of a prick than he’d already been to her and looked right past her as though she hadn’t existed. It was ironic that he’d never had a problem blowing off women in the past, but when he’d had to do the same to Angela he’d felt like the biggest asshole in the history of the world.
In fact, he realized in disgust as he took a slow sip of wine, he�
��d been a total, complete, and revolting asshole to her during the entire duration of their relationship. When he’d laid out his admittedly ridiculous conditions to her that night at the Biltmore, he had never really believed she’d accept. And when she had agreed, he had certainly never expected it to last for more than a month or two. The fact that she’d hung in there for so long continued to amaze him, and made him realize just how strong willed she really was.
But there was almost nothing left of that woman now – the one who looked like a strong wind would blow her over, whose arm had felt alarmingly thin and frail beneath his fingers, whose eyes looked dead. He had done that to her, he realized now with a groan. She’d devoted herself to him, had given him everything he’d asked of her, had loved him for God’s sake, and he had thrown all of it away – he’d shoved her out of his life just as he’d shoved her out of his car that night.
When he’d finally accepted the offer to join Morton Sterling, it had been with the knowledge that Angela worked for the same firm. The decision to leave Jessup Prior – and all that he’d built up there – had been a tough one, a decision he’d thought about and planned for nearly a year. He had grown increasingly concerned about the company’s financial stability over the years, was dissatisfied with its earnings and cash reserves, and had begun to hear mounting rumors of potential buy-outs or takeovers. But when he’d shared his concerns with fellow brokers or upper level managers, they had all brushed him off, either unwilling to believe the cold hard facts or choosing to ignore them for reasons of their own. Nick had been determined not to go down with a sinking ship, and to leave on his own terms. He’d discreetly met with three different rival firms, carefully weighing what perks and bonuses each one offered, and taking his time to plan his ultimate departure. Management at Jessup Prior had been in shell-shocked disbelief when he’d rather casually announced he was leaving, and though he hadn’t been able to outright take his accounts with him, he was supremely confident that nearly every one would follow him to his new firm. He had also taken three of his team members with him, and had the guarantee of being able to hire a fourth as part of his signing package.
Even before his new manager – Paul McReynolds – had brought him to “meet” Angela, he’d heard grumblings from a few of the other brokers about the “ice queen in the corner” and “Ballbreaker Barbara’s protégé”. After leaving Angela’s surprisingly small corner office – surprising given the level of production she’d achieved – he had casually asked Paul about her. Nick had felt immensely proud to learn how she’d built up her portion of Barbara Lowenstein’s client base into a truly impressive book. True, she’d received something of a lucky break but, given what he’d known of the older woman, there was little doubt Angela had more than earned those accounts.
And seeing Angela again today after all this time had definitely sent him on a little trip down memory lane. In the years since he’d ended things between them, he hadn’t allowed himself to think of her very often, largely to avoid the guilt that invariably accompanied such thought. He’d moved on, of course, easing back into his old routines without blinking an eye. But while there had certainly been other women, none of them had lasted more than a week or two, and he couldn’t honestly remember any of their names by now. And for the last eighteen months or so, he’d been without a woman altogether, had been celibate for perhaps the first time since his teens.
He’d told himself the reason for his self-induced celibacy was simply because he’d been too focused on transitioning his business to another firm, getting everything in order, and making sure he took the best possible offer. But a big part of his abstention was because he was tired of the whole dating scene at this point in his life, weary of all the work involved, and the inevitable nasty scene that occurred when he told a woman he wouldn’t be seeing her again. During the year he’d been with Angela, it had been a tremendous relief not to have to engage in all of the various dating rituals, to know that for once he had a steady woman in his life. It had really been the perfect arrangement, especially since she’d been so completely keen to obey his rules and had never tried to ask him for more than he was willing to give. And as each month of their relationship had passed, Nick had been increasingly surprised that he hadn’t grown bored or dissatisfied with her, or that he hadn’t felt the restless need to move on to someone new.
Yes, everything had been near to perfect until she’d come home from that damned family wedding looking like she’d been emotionally tortured and drained. He’d silently cursed her total bitch of a mother, had wondered how a woman could say such awful things to her own child, and had felt tremendous empathy for Angela. Granted, his own mother and father would never win any awards for Parent of the Year, but at least he’d never felt unwanted or unloved.
Nick had sensed all along that Angela secretly wanted more from their relationship – even though she’d been extremely careful, almost paranoid about voicing such needs – and had seen the hurt on her face that she couldn’t always hide when he’d left her bed after several hours of hot, intense sex. The air of casual sophistication she’d always assumed in his presence had begun to ring false, and by the end she’d started clinging to him in near-desperation, as though she knew the end was near for them.
It had been on the night of her birthday when he’d realized things had to end once and for all. When, at the very height of passion, she’d let the words slip out, the three words that had felt like an electric shock to his system. And he’d realized then he had known all along that she’d fallen in love with him, and had deliberately chosen to ignore that fact. He’d continued to take advantage of her willingness to be with him under any conditions – conditions that any other woman would have balked to even consider. But Angela had wanted him badly enough, had loved him that much, that she’d put up with his neglect, his control, the deliberate way he always kept her at a distance. And he’d decided that he couldn’t keep leading her on, couldn’t live with himself another week under such conditions, so he’d done what he believed to be the right thing and cut her loose.
In the weeks following their break-up, Nick had resisted the urge to call and check up on her, and make sure she was okay. He’d told himself over and over that this break was the best thing for Angela, and that now she’d be free to find a nice guy who could treat her right and with whom she could form a normal, healthy relationship. God knew after the way he’d been brought up, and after what he’d seen firsthand of so-called normal relationships, that he had zero idea of how to have one himself.
Nick had thought many times over the years that a list of the more unfortunate twists of fate in the history of mankind most assuredly had to include the day his parents met. There was no other logical explanation for why two people who were almost polar opposites, and who had nothing even remotely in common with each other, would have met, hooked up, conceived a child – accidentally, of course – and then muddled things up even more by deciding to get married. But fate eventually corrected itself when his parents got divorced less than three years later, going their separate ways to live the sort of lives they had always been intended to. All would have been right with the world from that point on except for one major complication – the child they had conceived together, namely Nick.
It was hard for Nick to imagine how his stern, uptight, and by-the-book father had ever let his hair down long enough to get involved with his fun-loving, amoral, and irresponsible mother. But, having seen photos of the two of them when they’d still been in their twenties, he’d had a fairly good idea of the one thing that had brought them together – sex.
Roger Manning’s own father – Nick’s paternal grandfather – had made it very clear to his only son from a young age about what would be expected of him –just as several prior generations of Manning men had done with their own sons. Roger attended a prestigious private high school, obtained his undergraduate degree at the family alma mater Yale, and then enrolled in law school at the same university. After
passing the bar exam, he’d be expected to join the family firm in Boston, and perhaps eventually become a judge or a member of the Presidential cabinet. There was no question of Roger not obeying or going against his father’s wishes, and until he met the gorgeous Sheena Sumner during spring break of his final year of law school, he wouldn’t have even considered doing so.
Sheena – blonde, buxom, and beguiling – had been a young, up and coming TV actress when she’d met the darkly handsome but rather prudish Roger. She’d been visiting the same Florida beach town where Roger was enjoying spring break with several of his school friends, even staying at the same resort. His friends had dared him to approach her, having found it hilarious that he was possibly the one man in America who didn’t know who the sexy, provocative actress was. After several drinks to bolster his courage, Roger had asked her to dance and the rest was history – tawdry as it was.
They had fallen in instant love/lust and spent the rest of the week together. With her TV series having wrapped for the season, Sheena had followed Roger back to New Haven where they’d continued their steamy, passionate affair. And then two things happened almost simultaneously that changed everything – Sheena’s series was cancelled and she discovered she was pregnant.
She’d begged Roger to marry her, vowing to give up acting to become a full-time wife and mother. They’d eloped, choosing not to break the news to his parents until after the fact. Very predictably, his father had hit the roof but none of his threats or insults could convince Roger to annul his ill-advised marriage. Time and the course of nature would wind up taking care of that matter instead.
Extremely ambitious and intent on advancing his career as quickly as possible, Roger had grown impatient and intolerant of Sheena’s lack of formal education, her unwillingness to play the part of devoted wife, and her careless, irresponsible attitude. For her part, Sheena swiftly became bored with being a stay-at-home wife and mother, missed California and all of her celebrity friends, and longed for a more exciting, glamorous life. So when Nick was barely two years old, his parents divorced, and none too amicably. And while Sheena left her marriage with a considerable financial settlement, the shared custody arrangements for Nick were far less generous to her.
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