Crash

by Vanessa Waltz

  Crash (Billionaire New Adult Romance)

  Published by Vanessa Waltz

  Copyright 2014 Vanessa Waltz

  waltzbooks@gmail.com

  Blurb:

  Will Pardini is a temptation Natalie does NOT need right now.

  Months after calling off her engagement, Natalie is trying to rebuild her failing career and impress her eternally disappointed parents. She has too much on her plate already, but the offer Will gives her - to travel the world working as a graphic designer for his luxury hotels - is much too tempting to refuse.

  Reformed bad boy billionaire Will Pardini has had his fill of ditzy gold diggers. Natalie is everything he'd ever hoped for but never dreamed could be real. Around her, he's just a normal guy.

  Around her, he doesn't feel like such a monster.

  Will has been hiding a dark secret... one that shows up just when he thought he would be able to move on with his life. One that threatens to tear apart the fragile connection he's been building with Natalie and turn his world upside down.

  Is it right to let someone love you more than you deserve to be loved?

  Be sure to buy the first book in the series, Break! Crash is a full-length, standalone sequel. If you haven’t read Break, don’t worry! Sign up for my newsletter, here! No spam. I only send information on new releases, excerpts, and giveaways!

  Chapter 1

  When the door to my apartment opened, I sat bolt upright in my chair. His loud, booming voice called for me and I was paralyzed with fear. My cheeks were stained with dark pink streaks from crying all day, because I knew what I had to do and desperately did not want to do it.

  He didn’t cheat. He revealed something to the media about my best friend, Jessica, and lied to me about it after he promised he wouldn’t say anything to them. How much money did they give him? The evidence of his betrayal was splashed all over TMZ in gaudy headlines:

  Billionaire playboy Luke Pardini hires escort to dupe dad

  Luke Pardini’s girlfriend’s drug-fueled past

  Luke Pardini and blonde escort no more!

  The ‘escort’ was my best friend; she was dating a billionaire whose reputation was already fragile. This would destroy both of them. She was out of the apartment, shopping, because doing something was better than sitting around, thinking of how they were no longer together. And the reason why just walked through my front door.

  She must hate Ben.

  I couldn’t take it. I had to do it now.

  I got up from my chair and opened the door. I didn’t want him to corner me in the bedroom, where there would be no escape. My tall, hulking blonde fiancé stood in the kitchen. The crack of his teeth slicing open an apple made me cringe. A tiny bit of anger punctuated the fearful thoughts running through my head. How dare he come in here as if nothing was wrong?

  He jumped slightly as he saw me standing there, watching him. “There you are. Gosh, you scared me.”

  Ben smiled at me, still without a clue. I trembled as I walked forward, my mouth hanging open helplessly. He would get angry. He would pound the walls with his huge fists and maybe he would cry, and I would feel so guilty for doing that to him, but I needed to do it. Jessica was my best friend.

  “Ben, I—”

  “Hey, do you want to get dinner tonight at that new Chinese place? We’ve never tried it.”

  His eyes shined with excitement and I was halfway towards smiling and agreeing, never mind that Ben knew perfectly well that I never really liked Chinese food. Why do I always want to please him? “Um, Ben, we need to talk.”

  “Okay,” he chuckled at my serious voice. “About what?”

  The anger dug in like sharp spurs. “I know what you did.” I almost said it apologetically.

  Immediately, the painfully obvious look of feigned confusion appeared on his face. His blonde eyebrows knitted down and his eyes wandered the walls of my kitchen. He was stalling to search for a good lie.

  “I know you talked to the press about Jessica. Don’t lie.”

  He balked at the uncharacteristically harsh tone in my voice. His huge body stood up, as if to remind me how large he was and how much strength it held. Finally, his brows knitted in concern. He was finally noticing.

  Dumbshit.

  “Natalie, have you been crying?”

  His huge hand cradled my cheek and the unexpected warmth made my anger stumble a bit. No, he’s trying to distract me.

  “Ben, stop it. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

  My feet took me away from him, but he followed.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, almost angrily. “Hey!”

  A vortex of energy whirled inside. My legs were trembling and I didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to shake the incredible resolve I found within myself to get rid of him. I slapped his hand away as he stroked my face, finally letting some of that energy escape.

  “You hurt her. How could you do that?”

  Now he looked frustrated. “I gave them some details about her, that’s all. I didn’t know what they would do with the information! They gave me three thousand dollars, Natalie. What was I supposed to do? Say no to three thousand bucks?”

  Yes, that’s exactly what you were supposed to do.

  What did I ever see in him? “You knew that her boyfriend was rich and famous and that you weren’t supposed to say anything about their arrangement.”

  “Oh, come on!”

  “It’s serious, Ben. She signed a NDA—no one was supposed to talk. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you about it, but I did it anyways because I thought I could trust you. You’ve ruined her relationship and you led the press to those animals that used to abuse her. Seeing them on television almost destroyed her. I don’t want to see you again—I don’t want this!”

  I pulled off the engagement ring and slapped it onto his palm. Ben’s fist tightened over it.

  “Are you serious?” he exploded. “You’re going to end our six year relationship over this?”

  It’s not just that, a tiny voice inside me said. I wasn’t brave enough to admit that to him—yet. How could I tell him that I was at sea—drifting away like the wreckage of a ship? For the past year, I felt pieces of me floating away as he spent more and more time at the law firm. I did not want a husband who was married to his job.

  Please stop following me. I wanted to curl up on the couch without his poisonous embrace, making me sick with his comforting warmth. His weight sank the couch down and he pulled me into his arms, imprisoning me. I shook my head and cried noisy tears.

  “Natalie, let’s talk about this.”

  “No, I don’t want to.”

  “Natalie,” he said a little desperately. “Come on!”

  “Please go!” I cried. “Just leave me alone!”

  “I’m not leaving until we talk about this.”

  Talking wouldn’t change my mind; it would only weaken my resolve. The fear jumped inside me again. The fear of being alone. I did not want his hands on me, or his lips kissing my head, or any part of him. He repulsed me. My body twisted in his grasp and we fought. He kept pulling me backwards when I tried to jump out of his arms.

  “Let me go!”

  In the flailing limbs, I somehow slapped him hard against his cheek. His hold loosened on me and I jumped from his lap, breathing deeply. Deep satisfaction rolled through me as the red mark seared on his face. Something broke between us.

  I pointed to the door, still shaking. “Go.”

  Ben raised himself and looked down on me like he quite wanted to hit me back for the humiliation he suffered. “Fine,” he said coldly.

  He turned around and left my apartment, slamming the door in his wake. I ran to the door and locked it, as if it was some kind of safeguard against him in case he came back. Ben had a
key and could come and go as he pleased.

  The half-eaten apple lay on the kitchen table. I took it gingerly, as if it had a contagious disease, and threw it in the trashcan. Then I sprayed the wooden table with Windex and cleaned any remnants of his filth. I wasn’t supposed to use Windex because it would damage the wood, but the table was shit anyways and it was all I had on hand. I couldn’t stand the idea of his essence clinging to anything in this apartment. Thinking of my bed sheets, I wanted to vomit.

  My heart still pounded. I never broke up with anyone before. I tried to search myself for what I felt, for how I managed to do something so—brave. Was it the right thing to do? Don’t I love Ben?

  A panicky series of images flashed through my mind. At every important event in my life, Ben was always there. I met him in college; he was a big, goofy Norwegian guy who swept me off my feet. He was my world. I fit into his chest like a glove. He was there when I graduated from college, when I celebrated my first job as a graphic designer. Every birthday and Christmas since I was twenty years old. My gentle giant was always there for me when I needed him.

  What the hell have I done?

  * * *

  The lights in the mall seemed entirely too bright. Jessica’s blonde head bobbed in and out of view as she disappeared behind the dress racks in the petite section. I felt like a zombie as I walked towards her, rifling through the dresses and feeling absolutely nothing but indifference for the styles.

  Too flashy. Too many sequins. What is this, prom? I hate baby doll dresses; they make me look like a child. No, no, no.

  Jessica dragged me out to the mall to go shopping with her, because apparently there was this party at her boyfriend’s house that I had to go to. They made up months ago. Ben and I were still over.

  You’ve seen the Facebook photos. He’s moving on.

  Less than a month after we broke up, I woke up to a splash of photos of my ex with another woman on Facebook: Ben sipping drinks with his coworkers in a flashy lounge, with his arm wrapped around a leggy brunette, her cleavage almost spilling from her dress. Seeing those hands that I knew so well wrapped around another woman made me feel gutted. It was like he deliberately reached in and grabbed a fistful of my innards—and yanked. He made me feel worthless, and that was probably his intention.

  It was eight months since Ben and I broke up.

  Eight months of Facebook stalking and crying into tissues and my whole body shaking with sobs that absolutely exhausted me and left me so tired in the morning that I could barely function. Eight months of that horrible, empty feeling in my chest. Jealousy when I glanced at my roommate’s gorgeous boyfriend. Anger at the ruin they left me in. I missed him. I loved him. I hated him. Rinse and repeat.

  You broke up with him. I reminded myself of that ten times a day, at least.

  I ripped aside another dress with a little more force than I needed, and Jessica raised an eyebrow at me.

  “What do you think about this?”

  She showed me a bright-red knit dress and draped it over her body.

  “It’s a cute summer dress, but I’m not sure it’s appropriate for a cocktail party.”

  She bit her lip and nodded in agreement. “Maybe I’ll buy it anyways.”

  “Who’s going to be at this party?”

  “Oh, it’ll be mostly Luke’s coworkers. It’s a launch party for his campaign so maybe a couple departments.”

  I frowned. “And he’s having it at his house?” I couldn’t imagine all those people fitting into a home in the city.

  “Just wait till you see it. It’s huge.” She took my hand excitedly. “I can’t wait. It’ll be so much fun. There’s going to be a band and he’s hiring caterers with the most amazing food.”

  “Can’t wait,” I said in a voice that was too flat.

  She gave me a sharp look. Jessica knew that I had no desire to socialize with a bunch of strangers. Nothing really mattered anymore.

  Jessica’s eyes were knitted together. “Listen, I know you don’t feel like going, but you haven’t been out in ages. We used to do a lot of stuff together and now we barely hang out.”

  I tried to hide my burning face, ripping dresses across too quickly. Her saddened voice made my emotions, which were running high these days, rise into my throat, constricting it.

  “I know. I just don’t feel like it anymore.”

  I walked to another clothes rack where I wouldn’t have to look at Jessica’s anguished face. The divide between us cut deeper every day. More than anything, I wanted to go home and retreat into my room to watch reruns on Netflix. There was a constant push and pull between loneliness and solitude. Whenever I was alone, I craved company. When I wasn’t, I couldn’t wait until I was alone again.

  A slim black dress caught my eye and I pulled it out. It had a lace back and shoulders.

  “That’s cute!”

  Relief washed over me when I finally bought the dress and walked outside into the blinding sunshine with Jessica.

  “Hold on a sec.” I took the dress out of the bag just to look at it one last time.

  Jessica made a small gasp. “Oh, look! There’s a hole in the lace.”

  “Where?”

  She pointed to a tiny hole in the fabric and I sighed in disappointment.

  “Return it. You’ll find something else.”

  I moaned as I stuffed the dress back into the bag. “Go on home, Jessica. It’ll probably take a while.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her thin arm waved me goodbye as I turned back into the mall with a sinking feeling in my stomach. I hated returning clothes. Any kind of confrontation made me feel physically ill.

  The queasy feeling in my stomach doubled as I approached the sales counter where a tall woman stood, her face heavily made up with dramatic makeup, but still beautiful. She was the sort of girl I always admired because of her ruthless style. I never felt secure enough in myself to wear that much makeup or sport plunging necklines.

  “What do you need?”

  I blushed under her intense stare, which was even more intimidating with the eyeliner. I placed the bag on the table. “Um—I just bought a dress and it has a hole in it. I’d like to return it.” I hated the uncertain tone in my voice.

  Her manicured fingers reached inside and gripped the dress in her claws. She spread it out over the table. “I don’t see no hole.”

  I leaned forward and pointed, my heart hammering. Her gaze seared across my face. “Where’s the receipt?”

  “Should be in the bag, I think.” My voice was in danger of disappearing.

  A stabbing feeling struck my heart as she searched the bag and didn’t find one.

  “I was just here, you can ask the lady over there.” I pointed in her direction, but she was gone. Someone else took her place.

  “No receipt, no return. Sorry.” She shoved aside my bag and didn’t even bother putting it back inside. “Next!”

  Numbly, I placed my dress back inside and allowed myself to be swept aside. My face was hot and my lunch churned inside me. I heard laughter from a couple well-dressed, beautiful girls as I walked towards the exit and cringed. Even though they weren’t laughing at me, my brain still insisted that it was a possibility.

  Pathetic, I told myself. If Jessica was still here she would have made the girl return the dress. She would have asked to speak to the manager.

  But I wasn’t Jessica. Inside, my body screamed for me to rush towards a safe place and that was my little red car.

  Safe. No one can bother me.

  I kept the windows rolled up, even though it was a warm day outside. I didn’t want to hear people’s voices; I just needed a bit of quiet to quell the nastiness in my stomach.

  I teared up as I glanced at the shopping bag, disappointed in myself. I just spent over a hundred dollars on something that needs to be repaired. It wasn’t even on sale. I knew what my mother would say if she saw this. Ben had always done this stuff for me. Whenever my Comcast st
opped working, I gave the phone to Ben so he could deal with it.

  When I got home, I shoved the shopping bag in a corner of my closet so that I wouldn’t have to think about my failure for a couple days. Back in my room, I grabbed my sketchpad, ruler, and pencils and spread them over my desk. The best light was in the kitchen, but I needed complete silence to work on art. My environment needed to be a cocoon of artistic energy. My eyes roved over the walls, where I pasted photographs of some of my favorite corporate designs: Apple, Google, Facebook, and Yahoo.

  One day, I’ll design something amazing for a company known all around the world.

  But for now, I was working on penguins. My boss gave me the assignment to redo the pamphlets for the penguin exhibit. It was one of the most popular exhibits at the San Francisco Bay Aquarium, especially among children. I drew a straight line across the page and my hand instinctively flinched. An image of a wooden spoon cracking over my knuckles echoed through the years and I tightened my fist.

  It was only a sketch, but it had to be perfect. I used the ruler even for the text; to make sure the crossed “T”s were perfectly straight.

  Hours later, when I finished perfecting every little detail, I sat back and admired my work. Now, it was time to do it all over again. This time on Photoshop and Illustrator. By the time I finished everything, dark orange light glowed on my wall through my blinds. I stared at my stupid, cartoony graphic that burned my eyeballs for the past few hours. There was nothing else to do and the floodgates holding back all my feelings suddenly opened. Imaginary water poured in from the window, ruining all of the possessions in my cave, and finally submerging me. I was gasping for air.

  What an empty life you have. Work, work, work.

  I just spent my whole Saturday working, wasting most of my time on a sketch I didn’t really need. The emptiness of my life swallowed me like a black hole in my chest, always needing more, more, and more. More chocolate, more beer, more work and clothes. Yet, I still felt unfulfilled. Empty.

  Ben was my purpose. I’m one of those stupid girls who made everything in life about their boyfriend. Every weekend, holiday, and party revolved around the boyfriend. And now that he was gone, there was nothing left. There was nothing to invest my energy in, besides work and my possessions.