Don't Forget About Me: A Second Chance Amnesia Romance

by Eva Luxe

  “You know, I meant what I said to Andrew,” I say, lying next to her naked body on the sofa. I stroke her hair as she plays with my fingers.

  “What do you mean?” she asks, looking up at me.

  “When I said I would give you a raise. You’re good at your job and you deserve it,”

  “Thank you, Boyd,” Grace says, leaning up to kiss me. “I really appreciate that. I could maybe even find a place of my own.”

  “That’s the idea. And you’re also very good at making me happy,” I say, nuzzling my chin into the top of her hair, taking in the smell of her shampoo.

  “Right back at you,” Grace says, moving closer to me.

  There’s a knock at the door and we both jump. Grace scrambles to find her clothes, but I stop her. I want a few more minutes of peace with my love and her naked body.

  “Mr. Ashdown,” Oliver’s voice calls from the other side of the door.

  “Now’s not a good time, Oliver,” I call to him, hoping he’ll have his wits about him. “I’ve kind of got my hands full.” At that, I grab Grace up in my arms and she squeals audibly. I put a finger to her lips to keep her quiet. She giggles uncontrollably.

  A few minutes pass and I assume Oliver has gone back to his desk. Whether or not he heard us, I’ll have to determine later. But for now, it’s just Grace and I. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” I say, and kiss Grace on the lips.

  Epilogue

  Grace

  A year later, I find myself walking down the aisle, with friends and family on either side of me. I take in the greenery and the forest behind us. Boyd was more than supportive when I suggested we get married outside of the church. It just wasn’t something that felt true to either of us. Being in the outdoors and having all our loved ones around, feels more than perfect.

  I make my way down the aisle and toward Boyd, who’s beaming at the sight of me. Tears catch in my eyes and I can’t believe that this day has finally come.

  He lifts my veil, takes my hands in his, we begin our new lives together.

  Thanks for reading. Please email us at evaluxe@mail.com with your thoughts. Another never before published super steamy bonus story follows for your continued reading enjoyment.

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  Brand New Never Before Published Bonus Story Billionaire’s Secret: Steamy Secret Baby Romance

  Chapter One

  Willow

  I hated this.

  The view of the hospital loomed over me as people were coming and going. Some in stretchers and some in wheelchairs.

  Ronald didn't belong here. Neither did I, but for now he needed his rest and all the medical care he needed. I swallowed my depression back and gathered a small amount of courage. I dragged my feet on as I entered the hospital and retraced my steps back up to his room.

  The elevator would've been simple, but I needed to keep myself in motion until I laid eyes on him.

  I got to his room and pulled on the knob, but it was locked.

  Peaking in, I saw an empty bed.

  "Ronald?! Nurse, nurse!" I cried, running to their small station a few steps away from his door. "What happened to my brother? Why isn't he in his room?!" I asked, my hands trembling close to my heart.

  "Oh, Willow, calm down," the nurse said, getting up from her desk and hugging my shoulders. "He's fine. He was just moved to another room in the hospital," she explained.

  I breathed a shaky sigh of relief and wiped my eyes. The memories of that night were still strong.

  He was hit by a drunk driver and fell into a coma from the injuries.

  The nurse took me to another station of theirs. While I stood to the side waiting, she fumbled through some papers and clicked around on her computer.

  *Willow, stop being weak. You need to be strong. If something had've happened, they would've called the family. Breathe. Ronald will be fine. Then you can nag him again at leaving the toilet seat up.*

  This wasn't fair. Ronald was a good guy, and an awesome brother... when he didn't leave the bathroom a mess.

  "Here we go, he's in the north wing of the hospital in room twenty-four 'B'. I'll take you there. It can get confusing trying to get over to that wing of the hospital."

  I smiled. "Thank you."

  On our way over, the nurse started an idle chatter about her family. I guess it was to soothe my nerves. Every word she said went through one ear and out the other. All I cared about was my brother.

  It was hard enough that Mom and Dad were too busy to come see him.

  "Okay, we're in the north wing, his room is right down the hall."

  I ran ahead of her, counting the rooms while each door passed me.

  There. I found it.

  I waved at the nurse and she waved back, turning around to return to her station. I pulled on the door and went inside.

  "Ronald! There you are."

  He didn't respond. I knew he was in a coma, but every time I spoke to him, I felt like he'd magically wake up and say something.

  *Wake up, please wake up soon.*

  I wiped the hair from his forehead to the side. The bruises were going down, and he looked peaceful. I'd die if I knew he was in pain.

  "So, I hope you know that I'm trying my hand at bar tending. It's at this weird strip joint, but I'm not a stripper. I swear," I said, holding his hand. It was warm, a good reminder that he was alive and the possibility of him coming back was there too. "I don't make money like the dancers, but the pay is decent and the tips are too. I had to drop out of school though. Money has become tight with the family." I rubbed his hand and looked at the monitors and breathing machine that were attached to him. "We're suing that person who hit you!" I sniffled, "But the courts are taking their time. And... we're doing our best. You'll be fine though. And maybe we'll have a bigger house and you'll have your own bathroom to mess up as much as you want."

  A few tears leaked out. Who was I kidding? There was no way I could sit here and pretend I was Ms. Emotionless. I had a heart, and it was being stabbed repeatedly.

  Too much was going on. I wish I could've stopped him from going out that night.

  There were soft knocks at the door. I turned around, and the doctor slipped in.

  "You must be one of the Reigns. How are you?" he asked, his voice calm and relaxed.

  "Yes, I'm fine." I looked back at Ronald and his host of machines.

  "Ms. Reign. I'd like to collect some other insurance info from you for your brother if you happen to know it."

  "You already have his info." I wiped my eyes.

  "I know," he said, frowning, "but that insurance has called us and recently said they could no longer cover his medical needs."

  I jumped out of my chair. "What?! That's impossible! What about that man who hit him?! He was taken here too, right? Why don't you ask him!"

  "I'm sorry, Ms. Reign. But he passed away this morning..."

  I pushed past the doctor and ran down the hallway.

  What the hell was this? Why did all of this bad luck have to happen? That was my brother in there, and these hospitals, all they cared about was money.

  The doctor's words echoed through my mind like a nightmare.

  I bumped into people, I tripped on a person's leg, but no matter what tried to slow me down, I got out of that hospital.

  When I got to the bus stop, I broke down crying.

  I pulled out my cell phone and through my blurry vision, I pushed the fast dial button for my father.

  "Hey there, darling. How are you?" my father asked.

  "Daddy! The insurance, it's gone. They said the insurance dropped him. And the guy who hit him is dead!" I sobbed.

  He sighed. Leaving a few moments of silence between us before he responded.

  "Willow, darling, I already knew about that. We're trying to work on something, both your mother and I."

  My grip around the phone tightened. "What?! Yo
u knew and didn't tell me?" my voice shook. "I visit him every damn Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. I'm the only person who comes to see him and you didn't tell me?!" I yelled.

  "Young lady, lower that tone down! You know--"

  I hung up.

  What the actual fuck?

  The bus arrived and opened its doors. I looked at it like a lost deer in headlights.

  My parents knew about this and didn't tell me? What did they think? I wasn't important enough to tell?

  I dragged myself on the bus and slid my transfer through the machine.

  My body felt lifeless. Ronald deserved better than this. My family had just fallen apart after that car incident. And I began to think it wasn't going to come back together again.

  Instead of returning home I stopped by the local social services and got a bunch of papers of places that helped with medical bills.

  Medicaid wasn't going to cover it, we couldn't afford Blue Cross Blue Shield, and the churches that were on the list only offered medical care up to a hundred dollars.

  I threw the papers away and opted to go clear my mind.

  My job was close by and I took a long walk there to ease myself.

  *It's going to be fine, Ronald might just wake up and come out of this. Plus, he's always been a lucky bastard. He really needs to pull one of his lucky stunts now.*

  Ten minutes later I arrived at my job early and my boss looked at me, raising an eyebrow.

  "Hey there, Willow, you're extremely early. Something I can help you with?" he asked.

  My boss, Mr. Brent ran a bar, but he also had strippers too. They would often dance on the bar table and get in the way of me serving alcohol.

  "Just wanted to come here early, I don't have anything else to do."

  "Hmm, well okay. You know I don't pay overtime."

  I shook my head. "Yeah, I know."

  The evening had begun to settle in and I worked around the bar, cleaning bottles and shot glasses.

  Ronald's peaceful face in my mind tore me apart. How long would it even be before they took him off the machine?

  This would've been no different than murder if my brother died because of the lack of money.

  One of the dancers sat down at the bar table and took out a wad of cash. She began to count it, and I couldn't help but stare at it like it was a beacon of light.

  I knew they made money.

  But that looked like medical bills money.

  "Stacy," I asked, pushing her a shot of tequila, "is that how much a dancer can make in a week?"

  She pushed her lips to the side in thought and downed her shot.

  "Not really. Maybe if you're new? I made this last night. I was just too busy to count it, ya know. Mr. B skims two hundred a night and we keep the rest."

  My eyes fell out of my sockets. "Wait, he takes two hundred and you still have all that left?!"

  She chuckled. "Yep. That way we don't have to worry about a percentage."

  My eyes lingered on the money for a second.

  Sacrifice.

  A sacrifice had to be made...

  I pushed Stacy a drink on the house and went over to Mr. Brent's office.

  "Mr. Brent?" I asked, peeking my head into his office.

  He almost never kept his office door closed, which was interesting.

  "Come in, Willow."

  I slipped in and sat down in front of his small desk. "What's wrong?" he asked.

  "I want to be a dancer."

  The biggest grin grew on his face.

  "You want to dance for me? Oh, Willow, it's about damn time you asked. You want to know how many men asked if you were going to be getting from behind that counter and onto a pole?"

  "Maybe I'd rather not know? But I'd love to start tonight."

  He got up and motioned for me to follow him. He took me into another part of the bar I had never been before; it was the dancer's area.

  There were shiny scraps of clothing they wore and tons of high heels.

  "Just dress as skimpy as possible, you can use anything here. Since you're new, I'll just skim fifteen percent until you hit a stride."

  I clutched at my shirt. "Thank you Mr. Brent. I really appreciate this."

  He nodded his head and smiled. "Say, you've always been the mild mannered sweet one here, what makes you want to be a dancer?" He folded his arms with a curious look on his face.

  "Well, the medical insurance to keep my brother on the breathing machine dropped his coverage… so..."

  "I see. Damn, greedy motherfuckers. They like to collect money, but don't want to pay it out. My great grandfather passed away like that."

  He patted my shoulder. "You'll be fine. Get out there and dance in a few hours. That'll help brighten that bank account of yours up."

  And his too.

  "Yes, Mr. Brent."

  He left to go back to his office, and I stood still in the middle of the room like an awkward lamp post.

  "Huh, this stuff is really skimpy," I mumbled to myself, picking up a sheer thong.

  "Hey, whatcha doing back here?" Stacy asked, popping up behind me.

  "Oh, I became a dancer just now," I said, rubbing the back of my head.

  "Really?! Mr. B just let you on like that? Sheesh, that's fast."

  Stacy sat down at her makeup station. "Come sit right here, you can have this spot next to me. I can show you the ropes, someone as innocent looking as you needs a few tips!"

  I sat down next to Stacy and watched as she did my makeup and hair and picked out an outfit with a matching pair of shoes.

  They had a rehearsal pole back here and Stacy showed me how to grip it and do basic moves.

  "You're not worried you'll crack your neck?"

  "Nah, been in gymnastics when I was younger. Doesn't scare me."

  "Wow."

  I was athletic too and could do a few flips, but this was on a different scale entirely.

  After two hours of pole dance coaching, I had the basics stringed together for an okay show. Maybe I wouldn't make as much as Stacy did on my first day, but it was a start. It was going to be a hell of a lot better than the measly three hundred and fifty dollars I got a week.

  I didn't even know how much money it took to keep Ronald alive, but that didn't mean I could sit idle until then.

  Now I had the chance to save money to take care of Ronald.

  Great, I was making small progress!

  The music began and the rest of the four other dancers arrived. They were all shocked to see me join their crew, but happy nevertheless.

  Mr. Brent knocked loudly and stuck his face through the curtain. “Time to go ladies!”

  Oh shit.

  Chapter Two

  Darien

  This week wasn't my week.

  I was tired, achy, and felt like an old ass man at the age of thirty-five.

  I was a single father, soon to be divorced officially and an owner of a multi-billion dollar company. Right now, I should've been feeling like a billion bucks.

  But I wasn't. And there was a reason why.

  It had been two years and three months until I heard from Dahlia's mother, Morgan.

  We were over after I had discovered that she had been using me for money to stuff into her own pockets and help fuel up my competition.

  Now that the two-year mark rolled around and the courts saw fit to move on with the divorce, she wanted to make noise.

  There was no love in our relationship, and it was sad to say that there never really was.

  I only liked the idea of her. But the real emotion wasn't there.

  I scratched my scruff that had grown on my jaw and walked into a tiny bar that I would often pass in my commute.

  The small humble entrance appeased me, and tonight, I didn't want to feel like a big bad billionaire.

  I was only human, and I wanted a more down-to-earth homey atmosphere where I could kick back and relax.

  A place where no one knew me.

  The music was loud and the smell of cheap
alcohol was in the air. I inhaled it in and sat down at the bar to order a drink.

  "Hey, can I have a whiskey on the rocks?" I asked the young male bartender.

  "No problem."

  He whipped up my drink and slid it down to me.

  I downed the spicy mixture and savored the sting linger down my throat.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I saw a female dancer on the pole. Her light pale skin glowed under the lights that shined above her.

  She wore the skimpiest set of red lingerie I'd ever seen. She stumbled here and there, an indication of her newness and innocence.

  Sad, females were subjected to this treatment from the lack of money… I thought about my dear Dahlia. I was fortunate that she didn't have to ever look this life in the eye.

  But for now. I wasn't going to worry about anything. I worried about custody and all that shit enough.

  I was here for a good time, so I straggled over to the stage where the petite blonde danced on stage. The men seemed to love it when she stumbled, it screamed fresh blood to them.

  I dug into my wallet and had a stash of hundreds. Nothing smaller.

  "What the hell," I mumbled to myself. I took out a few and was prepared to hand it to her… Well, stuff it in her garter or wherever she preferred it.

  She did a few turns on the pole, but something happened and she lost her grip, tumbling right over onto me.

  "Ah!" she screamed, falling head first my way.

  "I got you!" I said, catching her.

  We both fell back onto the floor and the men whooped and hollered. They wished it was them she fell on.

  "I'm so sorry!" she apologized, checking my jacket.

  Her voice was sweet, yet strong. It captured me in a state of slow motion. She flickered her big eyes up at me.

  "Are you okay?" she asked.

  I rubbed my neck and grinned. "I'm good. You?"

  Another dancer entered out on stage and them men turned their attention on the woman in black lingerie and latex thigh high boots.

  "I'm okay. I'm such a terrible dancer," she groaned.

  I dug out the bills I had for her earlier and shoved them into her hands...