by Maya Hughes
I punched in the numbers again. There had to be a mistake. Again, the same flashing screen popped up. I still didn’t understand it. I’d had over three hundred dollars in there last week. I gritted my teeth as tears welled in my eyes. I hated crying. And I hated even more that when I got pissed, I cried. It was an involuntary reflex that had given me so much trouble over the years. I told Colleen not to touch this account without letting me know first. She rambled on about not having the card anyway. She hadn’t touched it in over a year, and I hadn’t had enough money to open a new account anywhere else. The sting of regret ran through me. I rested my head against the cold metal of the ATM and retrieved my card.
The door behind me opened. A cold blast shot straight down my spine as goosebumps peppered my skin, making my wet uniform even more uncomfortable. What the hell was I going to do now? A white, delicately embroidered handkerchief appeared under my nose and I jerked my head away. Standing beside me with her arm outstretched was a little girl.
“For your boo-boo,” she said, pointing to my leg. The blood had congealed some on my knee, but the long drips of blood had stained through the pantyhose.
She couldn’t have been more than six or seven. She looked up at me with her big, bright blue eyes and motioned with the handkerchief. Raindrops sat on her hat and coat. The water didn’t seep in and soak through her clothes, as it did mine. Instead, it rolled right off.
“Thanks, kid, but I’ll be okay,” I said, crumpling the ATM receipt and dropping it into the trash can as I headed toward the door.
“For your boo-boo,” she repeated and followed me, insisting I take it. I felt bad. I didn’t want to get blood on this super nice piece of fabric.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the handkerchief from her. What the hell was she doing with a handkerchief anyway? Weren’t these only for people fifty and above? I ran my fingers over the thick, luxurious fabric. This thing probably cost more than I made in a week. I took a closer look at the little girl. If ever there were a kid to walk around with a lush handkerchief, it was her.
“Where are your parents, kiddo?” She shrugged.
She had on an adorable navy pea coat, dark tights, soaked ballet flats and an honest-to-God beret on top of her sandy brown hair, with a mini purse slung across her body. Who was this kid? I glanced around, trying to spot her parents.
“You shouldn’t do that. You shouldn’t run away from people who care about you,” I snapped, nausea rolling through me as I thought about how much trouble she could have gotten into. She shrank back and I cringed. Chill out. I took a deep breath, relaxed, and bent down to her.
“Sorry, kiddo. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” I scanned the people walking around on the other side of the glass vestibule. I looked for someone who looked like they were searching frantically, but everyone as far as I could see just milled around, umbrellas up, doing their own thing. I checked my phone. I needed to get back to the diner before Martin had my head, but I didn’t want to leave her here. Indecision warred in me as I peered down at her. I’d have to take her with me and hope we ran into her mom or dad on the way back to the diner. I didn’t want her getting picked up by the cops. Who knows what kind of shitstorm could rain down on her.
“Which way did you come from?” I asked, crouching down in front of her. I winced at the throbbing pain in my knee. The aching registered as I warmed up inside the bank. She turned and pointed back down the street toward the diner. Okay, that helped some. I’d have to take her with me and hope we ran into her mom or dad on the way there.
“Were your parents in the bank?” I asked, glancing back through the glass. She shook her head furiously.
“My name is Melanie, but my friends call me Mel. What’s your name?” I held out my hand for her to shake it. She slid her warm little hand into mine.
“Esme. My name is Esme.” Her squeaky little voice made me smile. She was a cute kid.
“Okay, Esme. Let’s go. We’ll go to the diner where I work and keep you warm while we figure out where your parents are. Maybe we’ll pass them on the way.”
“My daddy,” she squeaked out.
“Your daddy?” I said, holding onto her hand. She nodded. “Great, we’ll find your daddy and get you back home safe and sound. How does that sound?” I paused in front of the door and prepared myself for another cold blast. She gripped my hand tighter, and I squeezed right back.
“Don’t worry, it’s only a couple of blocks and we’ll be there before you know it. Do you like hot chocolate?” I asked. Her eyes lit up, sparkling under the glare of the vestibule light. She could have my food from this shift. I was sure she was scared out of her mind. “Let’s go, kiddo,” I said, whipping the door open. The frigid air hit us, but the rain had let up, so it was only drizzling. She gripped my hand tightly as we hustled back to the diner. I’d have to go without the pantyhose. If Martin wanted to throw a fit, he could go buy me another pair.
I kept my eye out for anyone frantic as we walked back the couple of blocks to the diner. We pushed through the door and it was business as usual inside. Jeanine covered my tables, and Martin must have been hanging in his office. If he knew what happened, he would have been standing at the register, holding up the check my customer skipped out on, and demanding I pay it right then. I’d be able to scrape by with enough tips to cover it by the end of my shift. Jeanine’s eyebrow quirked up seeing Esme’s hand in mine. I shrugged my shoulders and got Esme situated on one of the stools at the counter.
“Why don’t you hop up here?” I said, lifting her up. She clambered up onto the seat and spun around, looking very out of place in the rundown diner. Someone was probably having a fit over her going missing. I knew all about that. My stomach dropped as I thought about how horrible a feeling that was. “How about some hot chocolate?” I asked her. She nodded, and I called out to Jim for a mug of the warm, chocolatey treat. It was probably the only thing in the whole place that wasn’t horrible. He gave me a sweaty nod and went to work.
“I’ll be right back. Okay?” I said. Her hand shot out and gripped mine tightly, squeezing my fingers together. She had quite a grip. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m just going to go right over there to my friend. See her?” I said, pointing at Jeanine, who shot back and forth from table to table. “I’m going to go help her out. She’s doing me a favor by waiting on those tables for me, and I don’t want to upset her.”
“Okay,” she squeaked out, so low it was barely a whisper.
“Thanks, Esme.” I rushed over to Jeanine. She shot me a glare and I cringed.
“Did a little sightseeing? And picked up a stray?” she said, bustling past me into the kitchen. Looks like my share of the tips would be a lot smaller tonight. But I owed her. Jim slid a cup of hot chocolate to Esme across the counter. She lifted it up and took a small sip. A big smile spread across her face as she tried to lick off the whipped cream she’d gotten all over her chin. Clearly a bit happier, she kicked her feet and spun slowly on the stool.
I rushed back and forth from table to table, bringing out the orders that were placed while I was out, and cleaning up as customers left. Every so often I’d shoot a glance to Esme and another out the window, looking for anyone freaking out about a missing child. Droves of people passed by, and a few people came in for a meal. Other than that, it was like any other day.
Esme seemed perfectly content to hang out on the stool, spinning around some and drawing a picture or two on the placemats with some crayons I’d scrounged up from the back. No one spoke to her and she didn’t speak to anyone else. I couldn’t help but wonder where she came from, or how long I should wait to call the cops. Plus, I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. A sharp pang stomach, and I wrapped my arms around myself.
Sometimes, kids make mistakes. They get angry and run away, never thinking about the consequences of what they’ve done. Not considering how it could change the course of their entire life in a moment. I knew how the mistakes of children could be held against them – even ruin their
life. I didn’t want anything like that to happen to Esme.
I popped of the kitchen with an armload of plates, all ready for my biggest table of the night, when I saw a hulking man in a dark suit standing in front of Esme, trying to talk to her. He had a short buzz cut and wore sunglasses, despite the rainy weather. Esme scrunched herself up against the counter, not looking happy to see him. Who the hell was this guy? Everything happened so quickly. One second he tried to grab her, and in the next I dumped my plates down on the nearest table and threw myself between them.
I planted myself in front of her and pushed him back with both hands as hard as I could.
“Hey, don’t you fucking touch her,” I hissed, getting right in his face. He didn’t even flinch as his shaded gaze snapped to me. “Do you hear me? Back off,” I said, pushing him back again. He didn’t shift an inch as my hands met his solid chest. My pulse began to pound. Who was this guy? Why was he talking to Esme? Was she in danger? More and more questions flew through my head as I glared up at the unflinching man with the earpiece. Esme slid her hand into mine. I turned to give her a reassuring smile when the front door was flung open with an alarming bang that made me jump and put my arm protectively around Esme. What the hell was going on? I tried to peer around the asshole towering over me.
“There you are,” came a voice smoother than silk, even though I could hear a note of the frantic anxiety that only losing a kid will create in a parent. A brute of a man rushed in, flanked by another huge guy in a black suit. This one had dark brown hair that was longer on top. I named him Hulk #2. Esme leaned to the side to get a better view, and a tall man with chestnut hair rushed forward. His expensive cologne wafted by, scenting the air with something other than pancakes, burgers, and coffee. He smelled better than any man I’d ever encountered. Hulk #1 escorted Hulk #2 out of the diner, and by that I mean he practically threw him out the front door.
Before I even knew what was happening, Mr. Cologne had his arms wrapped around Esme, and she hugged him back.
“Are you okay?” the man asked, crouching down and squeezing her in a hug. “Don’t do that to me, sweetie.”
As he turned with her in his arms, everything suddenly made more sense. I was face to face with Rhys Thayer, one of the richest and most powerful men in the world. Also one of the most generous, from what I’ve read, but he wasn’t feeling generous right then.
Kissing the top of Esme’s head, he kept his gaze on me and I was definitely aware of the scrutiny. My fingers tingled and I wanted to take a step back, but I was frozen. He pinned me with his stare, eyes burning into mine. What happened to the good-natured philanthropist I’d seen so many news features about? His eyes were laser-focused on me and I finally took a step back. For a second, the intimidating mask slipped when he glanced at Esme wrapped up in his arms. Searing my skin, he gave me the once over, glaring at me like he could destroy me at any moment. Maybe he could.
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When she left, she didn’t just take my heart. She took my baby…
Five year ago, Alex turned my world upside down and showed me that the movie star lifestyle isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Her smile stopped my dead in my tracks and her body made me never want to stop touching her.
With tabloids trying to tear her down and a movie studio trying to keep me on a tight leash, I made a choice…the wrong choice. Letting her go is the mistake I’ve regretted every single day.
When I find out she has a child, my child and I’m not going to let her go again.
Can I prove that things have changed? That I’ve changed and I can be the man she needs? Or will it all come crashing down again?
Blinded is a 60,000 word second chance, secret baby romance filled with HOT nights, heart ache and guarantees a HEA.
Chapter 1
Glancing at her phone for the fifth time in three minutes, Alex Davies reread the same line for the third time. Ben was listening to some sports game in the kitchen while he prepped the soups and specials for the dinner ‘rush’ that would hopefully come. At least the lack of customers gave her plenty of time to study; algorithms and computer architecture were seriously kicking her butt right now. Whoever said community college classes would be easier had obviously never taken one.
Transferring from next semester was going to be a shock; ever since she’d graduated a year early from high school, she’d been the odd woman out when it came to social interactions—that is, with everyone other than her best friend Jen, who badgered her on a regular basis until she relented and did something social at least once every few months.
A pang of sadness washed over Alex when she remembered the cajoling and the good time that invariably followed once she finally gave in and went with her. Jen was leaving for law school at the end of the year, which was going to suck.
Staring out the windows, looking at the dreary skyline over the ocean, she wanted to cuddle up on the couch with a good book and relax. The clouds were hanging heavy over the ocean and everything was deserted. The waves were crashing and everything seemed to be grey. Even the plants looked like they had been transformed without the lively summer crowds to perk up their spirits.
Looking back down at the book in front of her, she moved to push up glasses that were no longer sitting on her nose. Even after wearing contacts for five months, she still caught herself engaging in the old habit. Jen had dragged her to the one-hour eye-care store and practically forced her into the chair to get these things, but when her head was in the books, she reverted to muscle memory. It was time to get ready for the evening ‘rush’ anyway.
Hopping off the stool behind the bar, she grabbed a dishrag and started to wipe down the already-clean bar. Sighing as she worked, she realized this was likely going to be a long and unprofitable night.
She hoped that it would be busy later, but not so busy that she didn’t have some time for studying. She wanted to get all the dinner prep out of the way now in case she got her wish. Torn between not wanting to interact with people and needing to put some cash in her pocket, she decided that hoping for just a few tables would be a good compromise.
The restaurant was usually slow this time of year. New Jersey shore towns were notorious for shutting down once summer was over, and it was late October. The only reason they were still open was because Ben, her boss, wanted to drum up some extra business with the filming crew that was set to start production in a couple of days. She’d begged him to keep her on as his fall waitress. Even at a shitty waitress minimum wage, she earned great tips during the summer and had lots of study time during the fall, while still making a few extra bucks.
Get paid to study? Yes, please. Only one more year and she’d graduate with her bachelor’s in computer science. Staying in town off-season helped keep her costs—like rent—down, and the commute to school wasn’t too bad from there on the train. She still didn’t know how she convinced Jen to stay there with her, but being away from her dad seemed like enough of an incentive for Jen. At least in their apartment, she was left to her own devices and could sketch and paint to her heart’s content. Jen’s dad did not approve of her artistic pursuits and took every chance he had to make sure she knew it.
“Hey, are you guys open?” said a voice from the door. She’d told Ben repeatedly that they needed to keep it locked until she was ready for the evening shift, but he never listened. She put down her bar towel and turned to greet the man.
“If you can just give—” The words stuck in her throat as she stared into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. He walked up to her in his pale blue t-shirt that only helped bring out his eyes. Even from afar, the guy was seriously ripped; his chest strained against the fabric of his t-shirt, and his slight five o’clock shadow and tousled chestnut hair were seriously threats to her sexual sanity. Judging by his arrogant smirk as he sauntered to the bar, he knew what affect he was having on her.
“My eye
s are up here,” he laughed, waving a hand in front of his chest.
“Right, sorry!” She jerked her eyes away from those amazing pecs, embarrassed to have been caught staring. “Um, we’re open as soon as I can get everything set up. Just a couple more minutes. You can grab a booth, if you don’t want to wait outside.” It was a rainy, crappy day, so she didn’t really blame him for trying to get out of the cold.
“Yeah, no problem; I’ll grab a seat. Take your time.” He smiled as he made his way over to the booth closest to the bar.
She walked into the kitchen to let Ben know that they had a real live customer. He nodded, but kept chopping vegetables.
“Oh, and when’s the film crew supposed to show up?”
“Today,” he grunted, “and it’s about time too.”
“Okay. I’ll keep an eye out and let you know when they get here.” She headed back out to ask Mr. Hottie for his order.
“Oh, and here’s the menu. It’s kind of short; we like to keep it simple off-season to make sure everything is fresh,” she explained.
“I’m sure whatever you have will be delicious,” he replied as he scanned it. His phone vibrated on the table and he glanced at it, then held up a finger to her.
“Give me a couple of minutes. I need to take this, then I’ll order.”
“No problem. Take your time.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and ducked her head as she backed away from the table, and promptly slammed her hip into the table behind her. “Son of a—,” she mumbled as the silverware on the table rattled. Smooth, Alex, smooth. She righted herself and turned to walk away, cheeks aflame.
She quickly moved around the restaurant, trying to look busy. There wasn’t too much prep because she didn’t anticipate many customers, but she didn’t want to just lean on the bar and appear to be waiting, either. She could feel Mr. Hottie’s eyes on her as she moved around the restaurant, and goosebumps formed on her arms. She peeked at him every so often while he was on the phone, and each time she did, his gaze was on her.