TABLE OF CONTENTS
COPYRIGHTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
FINDING WILLOW EXCERPT
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MAKE ME FORGET EXCERPT
LILY OF THE VALLEY
HERS
Copyright 2013 Dawn Robertson
All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the Author. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Hers is dedicated to:
The misfits.
The freaks.
Those who were told you will never amount to anything in life.
My own personal angel.
My family.
The women who worked tirelessly on this novel with me.
My beta readers, my editor Sarah Daltry, Racher Mizer from Shoutlines Design for all the beautiful graphics, formatting, and the award-winning cover.
To the bloggers who have helped me with this debut including Brandelyn from Seductive Romance Reviews, Stephanie of Stephanie's Book Reports, and so many more.
If I forgot you, I am sorry!
I love you all!
Thank you for supporting my dream & don't stop believing!
“It just isn't going to work out. Ya know, long term.” Daniel looked me in the eye. His emerald green eyes I had fallen in love with during our college English class told a different story. It wasn't about the future, or the fact that we came from much too different backgrounds. There was someone else. I had sensed it in the way he would fuck me. The passion which once had been carnal was just missing. I rolled my eyes at him and chucked up two fingers in the peace sign, “deuces Daniel. Get your shit, and get the fuck out.” I couldn't let him see that I cared. I couldn't allow him the satisfaction of knowing my heart was breaking. I couldn't let him see me weak. I didn't let anyone see it.
“Seven, let's talk about this.” He wrapped his muscular pale arm around my waist as I tried to move across the kitchen section of my thrift shop nightmare, studio apartment. I pulled away with such force, that I tripped over my own bare feet. “There isn't anything to talk about. I just want you to go.” I grabbed his overpriced black leather jacket off the couch and threw it at his face with everything I had. Before contact, his arm caught it in mid-air. I was pissed. I needed him to hurt just as bad as I did.
He reached for the door, without looking back. A single tear started to form in my eye, and rage begins to take over. My new instant determinations is to hurt this bastard the way he just crushed me.
“You were a shitty lay anyways,” I scream at him. The door closed without an ounce of reaction from Daniel, it was amazing how he could just turn off his emotions. Erupting in a fit of rage I threw my platform stilettos at the worn white door. When that didn't make me feel any better, I went rummaging through my cabinet in search of something with more meaning. Then I saw it. The vase. Sparkling and and full of the memory of our first anniversary together. He had bought me a dozen multi-colored roses, knowing I could never pick my favorite color when it came to the beautiful flowers. With purpose I lifted it, hurling it across the tiny space and watching it shatter into a million sharp pieces.
There is no fucking way I am cleaning that up right now. My bare feet pattered across the black and white tiled floor to the closet sized bathroom. Once inside I cranked the shower as hot as the old pipes in my building would supply. Cold water poured as I stripped, starting with the plain white t-shirt that barely covered my tattooed stomach. I tugged at my yoga pants and thong, kicking them into a messy pile on the bathroom floor. Now I stand naked in front of the full length mirror I kept on the back of the cheap wooden door.
Steam rose from the shower, signaling it was finally warm. I broke away from the staring contest I am having with myself in the mirror, or should I say silently pointing out every last flaw I have. Every reason Daniel wouldn't want to be with me. Was it my scars? The tattoos I used to cover them up? Was it the fact that I wasn't a perfect size zero? Or maybe it was just the fact that my life was simply fucked up. I don't have the purebred pedigree his parents want for a bride to be. My hard exterior had always been a front. Seven the emotionally unavailable nomad had finally opened herself up to another living soul, only to be trampled to pieces. Only once in my life had I experienced true heartbreak, from my own parents. The loss of Daniel stung just as bad. I cared more than I would ever admit. I let my walls down for him, and he took advantage of that.
Well marriage wasn't in my plans anyway. So suck on that asshole!
What is in my plan? Fucking taking over the world! Gone would be Seven, the broken daughter of nomad hippies. Losers who couldn't nail down a job if handed a hammer and nail. I had become everything they hated about society. But their biggest problem with me was the fact that I had actually obtained a college education. While most parents encourage their children to take the SAT's and apply to colleges, I had to sneak behind their backs to better myself.
Five Years Later
“Miss James,” the intercom in my office buzzed with Olivia, my assistant's voice.
“Yes, Livie?” I answered, while I finished the last couple keystrokes on my laptop.
“Mr. Stern is here for your two o'clock.” Looking at the clock on my computer screen it read quarter after one, I instantly became annoyed. He is early. I normally like early, but this is just obnoxiously early. What the fuck gives? I picked up my phone, dialing Olivia's private extension and simmer waiting until she answers. I shouldn't take my aggravation out on her, but I do. It is a bad habit, but she is used to it. I don't think anyone can handle me better than my personal assistant. I blow out a breath and count in my head, calming myself down from the pending shitty mood brewing like a hurricane. The line clicks to life with sunshine and unicorns in her overly cheerful hello.
“He is going to have to wait. I have a couple things to wrap up before he can come back.” Slamming the phone down on the desk, I let out a sigh and made my way across the room to the bathroom to freshen myself up. After feverishly working out every detail of the single, biggest deal of my life all morning I looked like a god damn hot mess. My blouse sleeves had been rolled up past my elbows, exposing my sea of tattooed arms. Angels, flowers, and cherry blossoms peek out from under the wrinkled fabric. I was typically very careful to conceal my vast artwork at work, unfortunately I had been swept away into my work far too easily today. Smoothing out the creases in my black dress pants, and slipping my red leather pumps back on, I rolled the white sleeves of my button up blouse back down and ran my fingers through my long chestnut hair before scooping it up into a messy bun.
Last, I grabbed my glasses off the counter. I hate wearing them outside of the office, but was virtually blind without them. The black rimmed emo accents made me seem less predatory during a deal. Little did these business men know, I could eat them for breakfast which was why at twenty-seven years old I virtually ran one of the largest communications corporations, White-Woods Global. Alas, I really need to get to the eye doctor and fucking invest in
some damn contacts. Damn, ain't nobody got time for that! A chuckle escaped me, as I pulled out the thick black folder containing all my notes and contracts for the buy out of Alexander Mobile. The single biggest deal of my entire career.
By this time on friday, I will ruin Daniel Alexander as I swoop into the board room of his father's company and take the job he has dreamed of since he was a little boy. How is that for karma, douche-nugget?
Peering into the mirror once more before inviting my impending visitor back, I smack my lips together smoothing my newly applied lipstick, and buzz Olivia. “Send Mr. Stern back please.” Striding around the side of my desk, I make my way across the burgundy carpet, and open the heavy cherry wood door. Plastering a fake smile across my lips for the old sucker. “Mr. Stern, how great to see you.” I extend my hand in greeting. “Likewise Ms. James, I was pleased with the contract you sent over. I've been itching to sell my shares of Alexander Mobile for some time.” Music to my ears. Little does he know, but he is about to drop the majority of his company into my lap right before they become one of the most sought after mobile distributors in the world. But I would never tell the old man that.
“I've had some interest in Alexander Mobile for years, the time is right.” I pull out a chair offering it to the ancient man. Unfortunately for him, he doesn't know my interest in the Alexander's go far beyond business, it is personal. It has been personal since Daniel left me and took up with that trust-fund Barbie doll, Samantha Rockwell. Not that I even really give a shit about him anymore. This is pure revenge, the last nail in my vendetta so I can finally move on with my damn life.
“So, I take that you are pleased with all the details of the purchase. Why don't you go ahead and give me your John Hancock on a couple of these papers, and we will schedule the board meeting for two days from now, say Friday morning bright and early.” I pull the last contract out of my folder, sliding it across the desk while pointing at the two X's that need his signature with my mint colored nails. The old man pulls an expensive pen out of his breast pocket, under his black blazer and scribbles his name down in both places. I let out a small sigh of relief. It was too easy, like taking candy from a baby.
“I've been looking to offload these shares for years, Ms. James. I just need to hang up my hat and retire. Thank you for helping me finally give it all up. You be good to Daniel Alexander, he is a good businessman.” He slowly rises from the chair, probably the fastest his old body would allow him anymore. Extending his arm in my direction, I shake with vigor before reassuring him.
“I will be sure to take care of Mr. Alexander. Thank you for being such a gracious businessman Mr. Stern.” I flash him a million dollar smile. Or maybe I should say a sixty million dollar deal, because in all seriousness, that is how much this merger just cost. When it comes down to it, this old man just made my career. I should probably drop to my knees and suck his wrinkly old dick in thanks. On second thought, I think I just fucking vomited in my mouth.
“You have a good day, Mr. Stern. Say hello to Kay for me.” And like that, the old man walks out of the office, closing the door behind him. I listen to his footsteps making their way to the elevator as I celebrate quietly in my office. Kicking off my heels I jump into the air with a fist pump before completing the celebration by doing the humpty dance. Tonight calls for a fucking celebration. Sliding my pumps back on, I stroll behind my desk and pick up my phone. Thumbing through the contacts on my iPhone screen I come to my best friend, and occasional fuck buddy Star.
Seven and Star, what a fucking pair. Our hippy dippy parents had been friends, more like swingers our entire lives. I can't even tell you how many times as teenagers we found them in gross compromising positions. She had also been the only person I could rely on my entire life. Our bond went beyond a special brand of sisterhood. The fact that we dabbled in a little muff diving together was probably the least of the issues our parents bestowed upon us. Opening a text message I typed out the plans for the night.
Sealed the deal bitch! See you at Sinners and Swingers at 7. We celebrate.
Tossing my cell onto the desk I pick up the phone and dial Olivia's extension again. This time, my bi-polar self is much nicer. I am sure the poor girl is probably scared shitless to answer her line when she sees me calling. “Yes, Ms. James?”
“Livie, Love. Can you order me one of those delish chicken wraps from that little place on the corner, you know... the one with the honey mustard.” I could be speaking Russian, and she would know exactly what I needed. Which is why I paid her the big bucks. “Sure, anything to drink?”
“Just grab me a bottle of Mountain Dew. While you are gone, stick Derek at your desk. No one else on the floor is worth a shit at taking messages. Oh, and I am out of the office for the rest of the day if anyone else calls.” I placed the phone back down on the receiver, and started finishing up all the leftover paperwork to send down to the legal department. Such a damn load off my overflowing plate.
Sinners and Swingers isn't your typical bar. Honestly, I don't think the club would consider itself a bar at all. Most kink clubs in New York City serve alcohol, but all keep strict limits on the amount they serve to the patrons, rightfully so. I make my way into the club donning a white tank top, bright red leather pants, and black stiletto heels. My long hair flows freely around my face, coming to an end somewhere around ass. I carefully made up my features with a hint of dark smoky makeup and my signature bright red lipstick. Everyone here knows me, I have been a staple to this club since my twenty-first birthday. An ex-fling brought me here hoping to interest me in a threesome. People here know me as Mistress Marilyn, not Seven.
I sit my ass down on the cheap black barstool and nod to Rex, the bartender. A smile spreads across his face as he ignores everyone else to tend to me. Flattering, he gives me a big head.
“Well, well, well! What do we have here? Mistress Marilyn, where have you been?” A seductive smile rakes across his face while he licks his lips, zeroing in on my tits. “Oh, ya know. The real world. Gotta make that money, Rex.” He nods, and ignores the others looking for booze. “Why don't you get me a shot of Jameson and a bottle of Sam Adams?” Without a second thought he turns to the bar and works on my request. I turn around, eyeing the great room to see what kind of trouble I can get myself into for the night.
It has been a good month since I have had an evening to myself at Sinners and Swingers, and I want to make the most of it. Maybe I will get real lucky and have Star join me for the night. Just as my blonde BFF enters my mind, she enters the room. Quickly snaking through the dancing bodies.
That is when I notice him, Evan. He is holding onto Star's hand for dear life, and she is dragging him along like a love struck puppy dog. I guess I won't be getting my fill of her perfect pink pussy tonight. I try not to let my expression show it, but I am pissed. I hate that fucking poser, and she only likes him because of his big dick, Prince Albert and all.
“Pink this week?” I ask, referring to the manic panic dyed locks in her hair. It suits her though. Perfectly. “You like it?” She asks while she pulls me into her arms for an over friendly hug. Her hands glide across my ass before she runs a teasing finger between my legs. “It suits you, that is for sure.” I laugh as Rex returns with my drinks. “Get Star, and him whatever they want. Drinks are on me tonight.”
I throw back the shot of whiskey. The amber liquid burns my throat, but damn it hurts so good. Star wraps her arm around me, pulling me in to plant a juicy kiss on my cheek before she finally asks, “what are we celebrating tonight?” The question of the hour. What I do in the board room stays there. I don't bring work home, ever. I don't bring home, to work, ever. Most of my employees don't even believe I have a fucking personal life, which is pretty rich considering the life I lead when I am not in the office.
“Victory. Sweet, fucking victory, bitch!” I grab her and plant a kiss right back on her cheek, careful not to make a play for her lips. Not only would Evan fill with rage, but I am sure Star would be pretty
pissed at me for running him off. “What third world country did you concur this week?” Star laughs while she picks up her martini off the bar and chugs. I lift my bottle of beer to my lips and take a nice long sip, licking my lips and smiling bright enough to light up all of Manhattan. “No country, this week. Just a name I can cross of my revenge list.” I give no more details.
“Another shot of Jameson, Rex!” I call down to the end of the bar where the bald headed man is flirting with a dominatrix dressed in leather from head-to-toe, only her eyes peaking out from under a cat-like mask. Many of the high society types try and hide their identity behind these doors. Hoping the rest of the work will never see them for the kinky son of a bitch they really are. I never thought about hiding my own identity though, my skin and demeanor when I am here is enough to hide who I really am.
That's when he catches my eye. The business suit caught my eye first. As I move my eyes over his high priced clothes I can tell he is new. That and the fact that I have never seen him here before. He turns, and I catch a pair of the most intense and beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen on a man. They shimmer like ice on a cold February day. Stubble lightly dons his strong jaw. Although, there is nothing I love more on a man that a clean haircut, and a fresh shave, his stubble looks good enough to lick.
Rex returns with my shot, and I shoot it back, followed by a chug of beer. I am done with the alcohol for the night, not that Rex would serve me much more. The club was always careful to adhere to a strict drink limit, mixing too much alcohol with the sexual exploits of the club could become very dangerous, especially for newcomers. I'll let Star run up the tab. She fists her martini and comes to rest beside me. “Our usual table tonight?” I nod, as she drags Evan toward the round glass table alongside the back wall.
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