by Aimee Bishop
“We’re here to take you home,” he said.
“Your house isn’t my home,” I said.
He puffed out his red cheeks and clenched his hands into fists.
“You’ve got your mother’s evil streak in you, and you will come down here this very second.”
“Evil streak? Evil! My mother is amazing. She’s free and beautiful and smart and she’s made a life for herself that none of you could ever have.”
“She’s got the Devil in her,” said a voice from the back of the crowd.
The Devil? I thought. These people are insane. Is moving away and falling in love the work of Satan? Was she just expected to stay here her whole life and bake pies for people that didn’t appreciate it and traipse through frozen mud day after day?
“If my mother is evil then so am I,” I said. “And I’m not coming back. I’m an adult. This is none of your business.”
There was a collective gasp throughout the group, and a ripple of outrage. I was just waiting for the very second when they’d live up to my comical expectations and return to the house with pitchforks and flaming torches.
Pulling on my clothes, I hurried downstairs just as Jeremiah was opening the front door. He held up his shotgun into the direction of Bernard’s face. My stomach lurched with dread.
“Don’t!”
I pulled it down.
“I don’t understand this! Why is everyone so angry?”
Looking out over everyone’s faces, I knew that deep down within them they knew this didn’t make sense. This rivalry between everyone, what was it for? Did anyone even remember?
“He came down in broad daylight,” raged Bernard. “And like the insolent young woman you are, you followed him up here in sin.”
In Sin? There was nothing sinful about my feelings for him or what we’d done.
“It’s time you were corrected,” he said.
“Corrected?” I asked. “Corrected! I’m not a dog that needs to disciplining. I’m a human being, an adult woman! And I want to be with Jeremiah!”
Again, there was a flurry of whispers. I looked up at Jeremiah and saw the worry in his eyes.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said.
“I’m not doing anything I shouldn’t. I’m just standing up for us.”
He took my hand and squeezed it tight.
“I’m right here for you,” he said.
I squeezed him back.
After a few moments, Bernard turned around with a stern face. His friends had moved in closer to him so that they were now an impenetrable group.
“Abigail, you’re family, but you’re not like us,” he began. “And this relationship…” He waved his hand at Jeremiah and me. “I won’t stand for it. If you continue with it we must ask you to leave. You can return to your mother who has raised you this way, but you may not return to our home.”
I looked up at Jeremiah and saw the softness in his eyes. Something about the way he held me, told me that this was the moment when we had to make up our minds.
“You know I have to go,” I said. “I’m not welcome here.”
Jeremiah took a deep breath and took one last look at the crowd before kissing me.
“I’m coming with you,” he said. “I’m not welcome here either.”
He let go of my hand and stepped forward.
“I’ll go,” he said to everyone. “Tonight. But there’s one thing you must know. Those things you all said about me and my family, those rumors about us that you delighted in telling your children… Not a single one of them is true. You think you know us. You think we’re violent thugs and criminals just because we’re private and want to be left alone. In time maybe you’ll know why that is. But until then, you just keep making up your stories. Good luck to you all.”
He pulled out a set of keys and tossed them to Bernard.
“And we fixed that piece of shit truck of yours.”
There was a sea of confused faces, but I didn’t stay to watch them any longer. Jeremiah was already leading me over to the truck.
“We have to leave now,” he said.
“I’m right with you.”
EPILOGUE - ABIGAIL
“Well, I never!”
Mom was carving up the roast chicken.
“Never in a month of Sundays would I have imagined the Jeremiah Dyer would be at my dinner table all the way here in Chicago.
After that night, we’d driven non-stop, just the two of us with the clothes on our backs living on pure adrenaline and excitement. When we arrived home, mom almost fainted on the doorstep. Then she invited Jeremiah in with open arms and hugged him tightly.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” she said.
“Never thought I’d see you either,” he said, as he stabbed a fork into a roast potato.
Dad was sitting at the head of the table looking overwhelmed and confused, but there was a glint of happiness in his eyes. He was pleased I was home. They both were.
Harry was lying under the table, panting with the excitement of waiting for scraps of chicken. I tore off a strip and held it under the tablecloth. He gobbled it up and wagged his tail.
“So Bernard hasn’t changed,” mom said as she sat down and smoothed a napkin over her lap. “I’m sorry I sent you there.”
“I’m glad you did,” I said, and looked over at Jeremiah.
He leaned over and kissed my cheek, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I hadn’t stopped since we’d left Bambridge.
“I have to admit that I’m still in shock,” admitted mom as she poured gravy onto her chicken. “A great big oil tycoon like Jeremiah with my daughter. Never saw that one coming.”
Did she just say oil tycoon?
“Um… What?”
Mom shot me a mischievous smile and winked as she ate a mouthful of chicken.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know,” she said.
I glanced over at Jeremiah but looked away.
“Oil tycoon?” I asked.
Now, dad was looking even more confused and took a liberal glug of his wine.
“You really don’t know!” Mom laughed.
I looked from Jeremiah to mom and back again. What the hell was going on?
“Well, someone talk to me!” I said.
Mom had that playful look on her face again. I hadn’t seen her this happy in years. At last, when I thought the suspense was going to kill me, she set down her knife and fork took a sip of wine. She leaned back in her seat and gazed up at the ceiling, her eyes glassy with nostalgia.
“The Dyer family is infamous around Bambridge,” she said.
“Yeah, I’ve figured that out.”
She tapped her fingers along the edge of the table, disappearing into her memories.
“Infamous,” she repeated. “There were so many stories floating around when I was growing up. About how they were wild mountain men that killed anyone on their property. People traveled in groups of three or more when they had to venture down the road at the bottom of the mountain and run screaming if they ever caught a glimpse of old man Jeremiah.”
“Dear pop,” said Jeremiah to himself, as he looked down into his wine glass.
“But of course, some of us more enlightened ones knew better,” continued mom. “Some of us weren’t afraid of the Dyers because we knew why they were so secretive.”
She lowered her gaze to meet Jeremiah’s, and they looked into each other’s eyes in secret understanding.
“Some of us knew that people weren’t allowed on the mountain because it was oil rich, and the family wanted to protect their money and their land. Over the generations, the Dyer family had spread lies and stories amongst the villagers of Bambridge to stop people straying onto the mountain. They told people they’d die if they ever trespassed up there, made them think that there were monsters and murderers up there. But there weren’t any, were there?”
Jeremiah shook his head.
“I knew it!” I said, almost jumping out my seat. “I knew the rumor
s weren’t true. But… it was all made up so people wouldn’t discover your oil fortune?”
He took my hand and nodded.
“Stupid, isn’t it?” he said.
All I could do was laugh.
“Crazy,” I said. “Absolutely insane.”
Dad was gulping down more wine, filling up his glass before making his way to the cabinet to get more.
“Well this has been an unexpected day,” he said.
He looked at the bottle of wine then placed it back on the shelf, deciding that something much stronger was needed. He pulled down a bottle of whiskey and set it on the table.
“Something tells me you’re a whiskey kinda man,” he said.
“You’re right,” said Jeremiah.
It was all so surreal, seeing him here in my home. For the first time in so long, my parents looked happy.
Then something else popped into my head. I thought about Jeremiah’s modern, luxurious house and how his truck would rival any city boys. Oil tycoon, I thought. He must be rich, filthy rich.
“Oil,” I said to myself. “Does that mean… Does that mean you’re a…”
I couldn’t bring myself to say it, but he knew what I meant.
“Does it mean I’m a billionaire?” Jeremiah smiled. “Absolutely.”
It was all so much to take in.
After the whiskey was cracked open, the conversation soon turned to memories of Bambridge. Mom laughed about her parents, and Jeremiah told us stories about his father. He told us about Sandy and his brother. He spoke about the rich history of the mountain, and how over the years their small family colony had spread across the landscape until it was a self-sufficient town hidden amongst the trees.
“Wait, you even have a bar up there?” I asked, incredulous. “You kept that a secret.”
After dessert, we walked out into the garden and sat on the bench beside the holly bush.
“There’s so much we don’t know about each other,” I said.
He pulled me to his side and stroked my hair.
“We’ve got our whole lives to find out,” he said.
He raised my lips to meet his. From inside, I could hear mom clearing the table and dad going through the drinks cabinet. Somewhere up in the trees a robin chirped. I thought I had to be dreaming.
But happily, I wasn’t.
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Enjoy an Excerpt from Another Great Title from Sasha O’Hara’s World of Romance:
Claiming Maggie
An Older Man Younger Woman Virgin Romance
Alice Blakely
Maggie Rhodes is twenty-three, fresh out of college and has returned to spend some time with her father in New York City. Her dad runs an elite and respected modeling agency, and she’s looking forward to the chance to indulge in the glitz and glamour of the fashion world after the hard work of obtaining her degree.
But she’s got an ulterior motive- seducing her father’s business partner, Kane Waters. A gorgeous playboy, Kane has been on Maggie’s mind for years. She finally gets what she wants at a fashion show after party, but their encounter has unexpected consequences for everyone involved. Maggie and Kane are forced to face their feelings for each other and what the future might hold for the two of them- plus one unexpected addition.
Chapter One
Maggie
I fluffed my hair, brushed down my dress, and checked myself out one more time in the mirror, knowing I would never be more beautiful than I was at that moment.
In all honesty, it was nice to have a chance to get dressed up again. Studying for my MBA hadn’t left me much time to put on beautiful clothes and go out dancing or hell, to go out at all. I was proud of my achievements, but damn it felt good to do something a little vapid to balance it all out.
I stepped out of the bathroom and made my way back to the main hall, following the sound of the ever-increasing buzz as people chatted excitedly. It was always like this at fashion shows- and God, I had been to so many as a teenager. That was how it worked when your father had co-founded one of the most elite and well-respected modeling agencies in the city.
And yeah, I liked the glamour and the fashion. It was fun, an entertaining diversion after the hard work I’d put in at school in Boston for the last few years. Sometimes, I couldn’t believe it was over. I had become so used to the student lifestyle that coming back to the city and joining Dad on nights out like this one had seemed so distant. I scanned the room looking for Dad, but I couldn’t see him- he was probably backstage, dealing with some last-minute crisis. Even though he probably shouldn’t have been, he was always hanging out behind the scenes at shows like this, checking that his models were being looked after. Ever since one of them had fainted during a show a few seasons back, he always watched to make sure they weren’t on the verge of passing out, from nerves or lack of food or whatever.
As if on cue, everyone gathered and started to file through the giant doors at the end of the room and into the hall where the show would take place. I hurried to keep up, knowing that Dad would probably find me in there. But Dad wasn’t the only one I wanted to see tonight.
I caught sight of myself in the glass doors and couldn’t help but smile. I had dragged out one of the dresses Dad had sent me from a couple of seasons back, and even though it wasn’t exactly current, I loved it. It was a dark green velvet, a simple cut with a plunging V-neck and an A-line skirt that puffed out slightly over my thighs. I twisted my long, brown hair over one shoulder, letting it fall to my breasts to frame my collarbones and took my seat. The excitement was palpable- it always was, in shows like this. Even though it might not have been my scene per se, it was hard not to get caught up in the thrill of a hip new designer showing off their latest collection.
There was a certain allure too, because Dad had kept me firmly away from the industry while I was growing up– he and mom had both been adamant about it. They’d seen the impact it could have on young girls if they were exposed to it too early, and neither of them wanted me growing up with a complex because I didn’t match the standards women in the industry were held to.
Dad had promised mom just before she died that he’d protect me from it all, and he’d delivered on that promise. My first show had been when I turned eighteen, five years ago, and I still remember how excited I was to be there. Whenever I was back in New York, Dad and I would take in a couple of shows and enjoy the complimentary champagne together.
I looked around the room as the lights went down, but there was still no sign of Dad. There was someone else here though, someone I wanted to see. When I caught sight of him, my heart tightened, and my breath quickened.
Kane Waters. He was sitting almost directly opposite me, looking fine as hell in a well-cut dove grey Armani suit that perfectly accentuated his olive skin and the natural, dark blonde highlights in his hair. He hadn’t noticed me yet, and part of me wondered if he would recognize me at all. It had been so long since we’d last seen each other. Ten years? Something like that. I had had a crush on Kane Waters for as long as I could remember, even though he apparently didn’t see me that way- I was his business partner’s daughter.
Kane and my dad had been business partners since I was about eight, but they’d been good friends for much longer. Kane’s ex-wife, Leslie, had been my dad’s sister’s best friend all my life. Leslie and my Aunt Rosie had traveled together after high school– they’d ended up in New York, modeling, and that’s where they met Kane.
The rest, as they say, is history. Because Kane and Leslie were close to the family, I remember them being at most of our family events when I was growing up. I
was close to my Aunt Rosie, and I knew Leslie well– she was a glamorous party girl, and always had a smile on her face. I hadn’t seen her for years, but Aunt Rosie said she was doing just fine.
Kane had always been more forbidding though– I remember that I was always fascinated by him, but he’d never talked to me. I guess I’d always sort of thought that he just didn’t really like kids.
And since he was also double my age, I doubted he had ever even glanced in my direction twice. And, if the gossip columns I had read about him were true, he wasn’t exactly into the settled-down lifestyle. His marriage to Leslie hadn’t lasted long. But now, single and surrounded by models every day, it was no wonder he acted the way he did.
Suddenly, his eyes fell on me. I blinked for a moment, stunned and half-tempted to turn around and make sure he wasn’t looking at someone sitting behind me. But no- he was staring straight at me, with a look on his face that made my heart flip. I licked my lips and crossed my legs, turning my attention to the show- the girls had just started to come out, and I didn’t want to seem too obvious. But I could feel his eyes on me, and it felt good. Did he recognize me? Or was he just checking me out? I flicked my eyes back in his direction and was reminded of the bet that my old roommate, Asha, had made with me. She’d bet me that I could get him in bed, and I had seriously doubted that until I saw the look he was giving me. But now…
Could I go through with it? He wasn’t paying any attention to the models on stage- he was just staring directly at me. With something that looked distinctly like lust.
Chapter Two
Kane
‘Who in the fuck is she?’
That was the thought that popped into my head when I laid eyes on the girl sitting directly across from me. She was sitting in the front row, so she must have some strong connections, but her dress was a couple of seasons old- not that that rendered it unflattering, in fact, the effect was far from it. It didn’t add up though, and I was having trouble keeping my eyes on the women on the stage with her shooting looks at me every few seconds.