His Secret Virgin A Forbidden Romance

by Michelle Love

  “You’re talking like we’re doomed, Sebastien.” Mom went back to the stove to stir the sauce.

  I jumped in to help her as I could see from her expression that Dad’s words were weighing heavily on her despite her attempt at optimism.

  “Here, Mom, let me help you.”

  Handing me the spoon, she went to the fridge and pulled out a beer. Popping the top, she placed it on the small kitchen table in front of my father. “Here, drink this. Hopefully, it’ll settle your brain a bit. We’ll figure things out, honey. I know we’ll be fine.”

  After chugging the beer, a thing I’d never seen my father do, he put the empty can on the table. “Not the way we’ve been living, we won’t.”

  “So, we downsize,” Mom said with a positive attitude. “It won’t kill us to trade our cars in for cheaper ones. Or better yet, we can trade all three in and just get one.”

  Dad looked like he wanted to cry. “I don’t want you and Emma to lose your cars.”

  “I don’t mind,” I chimed in. “I’ll do anything to help out, Dad.”

  He smiled, albeit weakly. “You’re a good girl, Emma. My little baby girl.”

  “I’m kind of not a baby anymore, Dad. I did turn twenty today, you know,” I reminded him.

  “You’ll always be my baby girl, Emma Hancock.” Getting up, he hugged me and kissed the top of my head. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. I’m sorry I forgot to pick up the cake and balloons.”

  “There’s no need to apologize. I understand completely.” I kissed his cheek, which was bristly with a five o’clock shadow.

  Letting me go, he went to the fridge and pulled out another beer. “I wish I could tell you that I’ll make it up to you, but we’re going to have to watch every penny until I figure something out.”

  After a solemn birthday dinner, I walked next door to visit my best friend, Valerie. She and I were the same age and had lived next door to each other forever.

  She met me at the front door with a small pink bag in her hands. “Happy birthday, Emma!” She held it out to me. “I got you a little something.”

  I felt lucky that my birthday had fallen on a Friday. Otherwise, Emma would’ve been at her dorm at Columbia University in New York and not at home. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  Placing the bag in my hands, she went on, “I know that. Just open it.”

  I pulled out a small box and opened the lid to find a charm for the bracelet she’d given me when I’d turned fifteen.

  “An angel?” I looked at her for an explanation.

  “Yes, I wanted you to have an angel to look over you.” She ran her arm around my shoulders and then pulled me to walk with her to the back patio of her parents’ house. “You see, Emma, I feel like you need some type of guardian in your life. You seem to be kind of stunted.”

  “Stunted?” I asked, feeling a little surprised by her words.

  “Yes, stunted.” She let go of my shoulders to take a seat at the patio table.

  I sat down as well and then looked at the little angel with a sparkling clear crystal set in the middle of it. “This is very nice, Val. Thank you so much.” I was trying to put an end to this conversation, wanting to move on from that awkward ‘stunted’ comment.

  But she came right back to it. “Emma, what do you want to do with your life?”

  And there it is.

  “I work at the boutique, and I like doing that.” I put the angel back into the box and back into the pink bag before placing it on the table, feeling a little prickly.

  “Working at a boutique isn’t a career, Emma.” Her hands settled on her lap, psychiatrist style—not that Valerie took those types of classes at Columbia. She was majoring in English with the goal of becoming a teacher.

  “And what does that mean, Valerie?” I knew what she meant; she meant that I should go to college too.

  “It means that you need to broaden your horizons, and that means getting an education.” Her dark eyes peered into mine. “If you don’t want to go the traditional route, you can always get some type of certification. That never takes long.”

  “I don’t have anything I want to get certified in.” Then I thought about my father’s job predicament. “Plus, Dad lost his job today. He can’t pay for me to take any classes right now. I don’t have any money saved, and even if I did, I would use it to help out my family.”

  She looked shocked. “Your dad lost his job?”

  “Yeah.” Fingering the fringe of my cut off denim shorts, I felt an odd sensation in the pit of my stomach. “I think there are a lot of changes ahead for my parents and me.”

  “I’m so sorry, Emma.” She looked genuinely sorry, too. “If I would’ve known that, I wouldn’t have brought this up. It’s just that you’re twenty now. A grownup. Not a kid anymore, you know?”

  Valerie had always looked out for me. I knew she meant well, but she didn’t understand me for a person who’d known me nearly my entire life.

  “I know I’m not exactly a kid anymore. I just don’t know what I really want to do with my life yet. I like where I work now. And Laney lets me help out, ordering the merchandise. I really like that part of the job. Besides, some people do work in retail their whole lives—and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Slowly, she nodded. “Maybe you could be a buyer for a larger store like Macy’s or something?”

  She always did think big. But I’ve never cared about flash or grandeur. “I like the size of the store I’m working for now. You might not believe it, but making sure I pick out things that will sell in that small of a shop isn’t exactly easy. The pressure of buying for a department store like Macy’s would just be too much.”

  “Pressure isn’t such a bad thing, Emma.” She looked over the thick black frames of her glasses, giving me the teacher’s expression she was starting to perfect. “Sometimes pressure helps build perfection.”

  “You just made that up, didn’t you?” I laughed as she shrugged. “I knew it.”

  “All I’m saying is that pressure is inevitable in life. Stop running away from it and embrace it.” She pushed the glasses back up on her nose. “I think that’s why you’ve kept all the boys at a distance, too. You’re afraid of the pressure they’d put on you if you let any who’ve made googly-eyes at you over the years do more than speak for two minutes.”

  Rolling my eyes, I had to correct her. “I give them all at least three minutes of my time, Val. You know that.”

  Shaking her head, she laughed, but she wasn’t done with me. “A guy needs more than three minutes to get to know you—or you him for that matter.”

  “I haven’t wanted to get to know any of the guys I’ve met like that. And I don’t want any of them to get to know me.” Besides, there was a bit more to it than that. I sighed. “First of all, you should know something—I haven’t talked about it because frankly, it’s embarrassing. I promised my father that I would let him talk to any guy I find myself interested in before ever going out on a date.”

  The look of pure confusion on her face told me that most girls didn’t have the same problem I had. “Why would you make a promise like that, Emma? What is this, the 1950s? Are you insane?”

  “No.” But the way she looked at me had me rethinking that assessment. “Look, Dad knows me. He trusts me, and I trust him. And I do believe he has my best interests at heart.”

  “You’re fooling yourself, girl.” She leaned back in the chair, fanning herself. “You’re a grown woman now, Emma Hancock. You’re a beautiful young woman, too.” She leaned up, propping her elbows on the table then her chin on her palms. “Maybe it’s time you start embracing that. Hell, you’re twenty, and I haven’t even seen you wear makeup. Let me put some on you before you leave.”

  “Oh, no.” I shook my head. “Dad would have a fit.”

  Rolling her eyes, she added, “I bet he would. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t wear it if you want to. Do it a little at a time and I bet he won’t even notice it.”


  I knew he would. “No. Especially not right now. I’ve never seen him look as awful as he did when he came home today, Val. I mean it. I can’t go shaking things up now.”

  Her lips pulled up to one side as she scrutinized me. “There will come a time when you will have to shake things up, little Emma Hancock.”

  Well, today will not be that day.

  Chapter 3

  Christopher

  A soft rapping on my office door pulled my attention away from the computer screen. My assistant, Mrs. Kramer, opened the door, letting herself in.

  “Mr. Taylor, how are you doing this morning?”

  “Fine. I’ve received an interesting e-mail this morning. I may be on the next flight to China if the Skype meeting I’d like you to arrange works out.” I turned the screen around for her to see. A handful of farmers wanted to grow organic crops, and they wanted my company to distribute them. Before I agreed to anything, I’d have to visit the farms myself. They would have to prove to me that their products were truly organic, or I wouldn’t put them on my lists.

  Sliding the tortoiseshell-framed reading glasses onto her thin face, she read the e-mail. “This is interesting.” Turning my keyboard around, she tapped away on it, forwarding a copy to her e-mail. “I’ll get on this meeting right away.”

  “Great.” Sitting back, I put my hands behind my head. “A trip, even if it’s just a quick business trip, will do me good. I’ve been in the office way too much the last few years.”

  “You have.” She walked over to the coffee pot to make me some of her famous coffee. “But then again, you can’t deny that focusing on work helped you forget about all the crap that was going on in your personal life. That’s much better than turning to alcohol or something even more destructive, like so many people do when dealing with divorce.”

  “Well, there is that. But I probably drink a bit more than I should, too. I’m merely human.” I thought about how different my life had been since leaving my wife. “But then again, I don’t drink to drown my sorrows—I don’t have any of those anymore. I do it because I can without anyone trying to make me feel guilty.”

  Not one to pry much into anyone’s personal life, Mrs. Kramer quickly turned the conversation. “Mr. Taylor, I’ve been kind of falling behind on my work lately.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.” The woman never fell behind on anything. “Is everything okay?”

  “Sure.” She brushed her graying hair back after turning on the coffee machine. “It’s just that you keep coming up with new projects so quickly that it’s getting hard for me to keep up.”

  I had to remember that the woman was well past the age of retirement. But she had many good years left in her and wasn’t the type to stay home and knit. “Should I slow down some?”

  “No.” She shook her head and then went to look out the window. “This company needs you to keep on doing what you’ve been doing.” She turned to look at me again. “I love my job. I want to keep working until I can’t anymore. With my husband gone now, being home doesn’t feel the same.”

  Mrs. Kramer’s husband had died two years earlier. The woman had handled herself professionally throughout the whole ordeal.

  “I’m sure it doesn’t feel the same.” I nodded to her.

  The coffee machine dinged as the brew filled the cup below it. She watched the dark liquid as it poured into the mug. “It never will.” Her eyes cut to mine. “So, you see, I want to keep this job as long as you’ll let me. I know a younger person could keep up with you a lot better, Mr. Taylor. But I’m going to need an assistant of my own if I’m going to be able to do it.”

  “Of course, you can have an assistant.” I got up to grab the coffee, beating her to it. “Head to human resources and get them on it.”

  Her expression told me she felt relieved. “I was afraid you’d say you couldn’t do that for me. It seems I’ve been worried for nothing.”

  It made me feel terrible that she’d think such a thing. “Mrs. Kramer, if you ever need anything at all, you just need to ask. I’m not trying to work you to death here. And I’m not trying to boot you out either. I want you to work here for as long as you want to. You’re invaluable.” It was the truth. “But don’t forget, you’ve got a pretty great retirement here. If you feel like you need to stop working, then you do what’s best. Life’s too short not to live it the way you want to.”

  She nodded in agreement. “For now, I want to continue working. And getting an assistant will make things better—take some of the pressure off me.” She made her way to the door. “I’ll get to work on that meeting. It may take a day or so to get anything set with our time difference. I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve got it all hashed out.”

  As she left, I thought about what it would be like when she wasn’t my assistant anymore. Perhaps her new assistant might one day take her place.

  I jotted a quick e-mail to her, telling her I wanted to be involved with the hiring of the new assistant. If that person could one day work for me, then I wanted to make sure I could get along with them too.

  I’d become picky about the people I surrounded myself with since the divorce. Too many of my ex-wife’s lovers were men I thought of as friends. And too many of the women that I thought were friends stopped talking to me in favor of maintaining a relationship with my ex. To be honest, I’d lost a bit of my faith in people as a whole.

  Life hadn’t turned out the way I thought it would. The relationship I put all my hopes and dreams into sank like the Titanic. My daughters had grown into shallow people. My friends were all but gone, as I’d cut them out one by one. Life wasn’t going anywhere near the way I’d planned it.

  Even though things hadn’t worked out the way I’d thought they would, I wasn’t sad, upset, or mad about it. I’d grown quite content with my life.

  So what if my daughters were shallow? That was their life, not mine. I still loved them just the same.

  So what if I made the mistake of marrying a woman who eventually cheated on me? It didn’t ruin me. At least not completely. I still had my company; I still had my wealth.

  And as far as cutting out the friends I’d had, I hadn’t really lost anything. During my marriage, I’d surrounded myself with people just like Lisa. And who needs people around who are just trying to use you?

  There wasn’t anything for me to complain about. My company thrived. I spent my time spent wisely. And I had nothing or no one to worry about.

  My daughters did make that part easy. Neither of them ever got into any trouble. No drugs. No partying like so many other rich kids. No promiscuous behavior. They could’ve been just like their mother, and that would’ve given me a reason to worry. But they didn’t act like her in that regard. Thank God!

  However, I knew if I ever tried to bring a woman around, there’d be trouble in my little slice of paradise. My daughters would turn into nasty little weasels then. I knew that for sure.

  They weren’t shy about telling me that it was their mother or no one for me. And not even their mother unless she turned over a new leaf.

  Funny how they’d turned the tables on me. As their father, I should’ve been the one to give them hell about who they dated. But I stayed out of their love lives, preferring to remain ignorant on that score.

  It might’ve been nice for the girls to butt out of my love life. But I didn’t have one, so it never occurred to me to tell them off. And the fact that I had no desire to date made the idea of putting up a fight with my kids feel like an unnecessary chore.

  Things were simple, and I adored simple.

  Simple things always appealed to me. I liked Scotch neat, my favorite color was white, and hands down, I always prefer a peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich over any other food.

  As I sat there thinking about what a simple man I was, a bit of anger began to seep in to me towards my ex-wife. She didn’t have it bad with me. We rarely fought about anything. I let her have her way all the time. I gave her expensive gifts when she left hints a
bout what she wanted. And I gave her everything and then some in our bedroom.

  The slightest zing of pain shot through my heart.

  With a sigh, I released the pain, letting it all go. “No reason to be hurt by what she did, old man. Selfish people only ever think of themselves. Don’t take it personally.” I’d made it through all the divorce ugliness by using those words.

  Not taking things personally was the key for me. Those words had kept me sane for the last five years, and I had a firm belief that they’d continue providing me with peace of mind for years to come.

  Another soft knock at my door, and Mrs. Kramer peeked her head in again. “Excuse me, Mr. Taylor. I wanted to ask you if you thought you could come back here around nine tonight for that Skype meeting? Mr. Wong and Mr. Lee will be available at nine in the morning, Beijing time.”

  “That’s not a problem at all. Set it up.” Getting out of my chair, I put on my jacket. “I’m going to go home and get some lunch. I’ll take the rest of the day off then come back up here for the meeting.”

  “Since I’ll have to be here for that meeting, too, may I also take the remainder of the day off, sir?” She looked at me with hope-filled eyes.

  I had no idea how it had happened, but my assistant, the one who’d been with me from the very beginning, seemed to not know me at all. “Of course, you can take the rest of today off. I won’t be here anyway. I’ll see you at about eight-thirty then.”

  “Yes.” She nodded then turned to leave. “Thank you, sir.”

  Reaching out, I put my hand on her shoulder, feeling like she needed a bit of reassurance. “Mrs. Kramer, you’re a valued employee here at Global Distributing. I want you to know that.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She looked at me with pale green eyes. “I’ve started worrying so much lately, wondering if the job I do could be done better by someone else, someone younger.”