I model everything for Sheryl except for the lingerie. I can tell on my own if it fits well and if Damon would like it. There are no price tags on anything, and I wonder if that is the norm or if Damon purposely arranged this, so I wouldn’t refuse to keep things.
By the time Ms. Peterson is calling her assistant to return, it’s almost eleven, and I have a huge stack of clothes. I take a handful of the outfits and lug them to the spare room closet. When I open the door, there’s a sheet of paper taped right in the center of the rack.
“Those belong in OUR closet, young lady. Don’t even think of hanging those in here. I made a spot for you in the walk-in. P.S. You better have to make a few trips. I love you. –Damon.”
My eyes flood with tears, and I have to take a few minutes to get it together before I can return to the living room. I’ve never felt so loved.
When Sheryl finally leaves, I’m exhausted and starved, feeling silly that trying on clothes wore me out. I have on my comfy, black yoga pants, and I’m sporting my off the shoulder, Flashdance sweatshirt as I dish out a salad.
Margaret slipped out before I could say goodbye, and I must remember to thank her again for always having food prepared for us. I’m sitting down at the table when the phone in the living room rings.
I run to grab it, wondering if Ms. Peterson forgot something. I scan the room as I reach for the phone.
“This is Alayna.”
“Ms. Wynn, this is Doris. There is a lady here wanting to speak to you.”
“Can you ask Ms. Peterson if she left something? I’ll bring it down.”
“Um, this is a different woman, and she swears she’s not a reporter.”
“Oh, OK. I’ll come down.” This better not be another one of his sex club buddies. One to deal with was enough. Hurriedly, I put on my tennis shoes and grab my card to the elevator.
Upon exiting, a chill washes over me. I know who this is.
“I’m Alayna. What the hell do you want?”
“Is there somewhere we could speak in private?” she asks. Her eyebrows lift, displaying a hint of attitude in her brown eyes. They match her long hair. She’s pretty but cheap, wearing way too much makeup.
“We can move to there,” I say, pointing toward a wall about thirty feet from where we’re standing. She nods, so I stroll that direction. The sick feeling I had when meeting Jacqueline is in the pit of my stomach but magnified as I turn and stare at her.
“I’m Tiffany Kinkade.”
“I recognize you from the news. What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask forcefully.
“Calm down. I tried to reach Reed,” she waves her hand in the air, “or whatever the hell he goes by now, at Golding, but security wouldn’t let me through. I’ve seen you on TV, as well, so I thought you might be here.”
“How did you find out where he lived?”
“It’s not that difficult.”
As much as I loath being within a city block of this woman, I’m grateful Damon isn’t seeing her. I don’t know what it would do to him.
Her eyes dart around the lobby before capturing mine firmly. “I want money. I’ve went through what I was given years ago, and I’m trying to raise a teenager.”
“You have a lot of nerve, but you’re asking the wrong Golding.”
“Richard is refusing to give me what I want, so if Reed doesn’t, I’m going to leak that my son is his.”
The pangs of pain return to my stomach. God, no. It can’t be his child. “You’re lying.” I feel the heat race through my body, anger filling every measure of it.
Tiffany smirks. “It would take a lot of media coverage to find out the answer to that, don’t you think?”
Before I can stop it, my fist is flying in front of me and connecting with her nose. She stumbles backward in her jeans and tacky red heels. Holy shit that hurt.
My body is shaking violently, and I swear I want to hit this evil woman again, but blood is already pouring out of her nose, and she’s whimpering as she tries to regain her balance.
Tiffany is not taking the Damon I know away from me, and she’s not destroying all he’s worked for. That is exactly what this news could do.
Glancing around, I see Doris on the phone with her eyes glued on us, and a crowd is forming. I go right up to Tiffany and point with my uninjured hand.
“Look, bitch. I know you’re lying, or you would’ve been after Damon’s money years ago, exploiting your child for every penny you could get your hands on.”
“I can’t believe you hit me,” she whines as blood runs through her fingers.
“I can’t believe you’d put your child through the sick attention he’d receive if you went to the media. You’re not getting one dime of Damon’s money, so go to hell. You’re going to be there eventually, anyway.” I point toward the door as I glare at her.
“This isn’t over,” she says. “You’re not getting away with hitting me.”
“Well, good luck exploiting that since I have no money to offer you. Oh, and you stay the fuck away from Damon.” I storm off, my body burning with hatred. I’m swiftly in the elevator, and as it rises, I can’t stop shaking.
Once inside the penthouse, I go to the restroom and burst into tears. I’ve never hit someone before. I’m covered in hives, so I splash some water on my face.
My wrist is already swelling. She better stay the hell away from Damon since I still have one good hand left, and now, I know I have the nerve to use it. The phone in the living room begins ringing, so I go to answer it.
“Yes, Doris,” I say through my tears.
“Ms. Wynn, I’m so sorry, but the police are here looking for you. If you don’t come down, I’ll have no choice but to let them up.”
“I’ll come down.”
“I’m going to phone Mr. Lear for you.”
“No, Doris. Please don’t do that.” I hang up and grab my purse. So much for my perfect day. I’m scratching at my hives as I ride in the elevator.
Before the doors opens, I wipe away my tears and stand up straight. That bitch is not going to see me weak. As soon as I exit and spot her standing with two officers, I feel the blood drain from my head. I take a couple of deep breaths, trying not to pass out.
“That’s her,” Tiffany says, pointing at me.
“Ma’am, did you hit this woman?”
“Yes, officer, I did.”
“I’m placing you under arrest. I’ll need you to turn around.” Another cop takes my purse from me before I turn. The first officer grabs my hands, and I cry out from the pain. “Ma’am, what’s the problem?”
“My wrist is hurt.”
He sighs and releases my hands. “Turn and let me get a better look.” I hold my wrist out, and he examines it, causing more pain. “Medical personnel are coming to check out her nose, so I’ll have them bandage your hand before we take you in.”
I watch as the second officer goes over to Tiffany and begins taking down information from her. Everything after is a blur until we leave the lobby. Paparazzi swarm us, and two more officers have arrived to help us wade through the crowd.
“Ms. Wynn, was the female you hit a mistress of Mr. Lear’s?” a reporter asks. “Were you unaware of her before today?”
I’m already going to be in the news, so screw it.
“I know all about Damon’s past. This is another person trying to blackmail him for money,” I say. “He’s a kind and loving man, so why don’t you do a report on how many children’s books he donates a year to schools and hospitals?”
All of this I spout off loudly as the cops shove their way to the police car. It’s going to be a long ass day.
Chapter Eighteen
Damon
I’m in a meeting with my legal team when there is a knock on the door. Helen peeks her head in.
“Mr. Lear, I’m sorry to interrupt, but, well, I’m sure you’d want to know this.”
“What is it, Helen?”
“Would you like to step out for a moment?” she asks nervously. I don’t have t
ime for this today.
“We’re in the middle of something important, Helen, what is it?”
“Um, Ms. Wynn has been arrested. It’s on the television, sir.”
“Dammit!” I snap my head to George.
“Get out of here. I got it.” He’s waving his hand.
“I don’t have a car.”
He pulls his keys from his pocket and hands them to me. “Take mine, and call me when you know what the hell is going on.”
I dart from the room to my office. I hadn’t realized I’d left my cell on my desk. After grabbing it and my suit jacket, I head toward the elevator. I see that I’ve missed several calls from Albert and Seth and another from my father.
I swear I’m about to take Alayna and flee this damn country. Once I’m out of the garage at Golding, I call Albert. He informs me that Alayna punched a woman inside my building, paramedics came, and she was arrested.
I can’t see her physically harming anyone. Hanging up with Albert, I call my personal attorney. He agrees to meet me at the station to assist in having Alayna released.
“Seth, what’s going on?”
“Alayna was arrested and called Felicia from the police station.”
I’m firing Alayna’s ass up for not phoning me. She knew I would find out about this. “Is Felicia there?”
“Yes, she left work and went straight to the station. I told her I’d get a hold of you, but you weren’t answering your damn phone. I don’t know anything else.”
“Alright, thanks. I’m on my way now.”
The person at the desk seems completely uninterested in my urgency. They tell me to wait, and I soon spot Felicia.
“What have they told you?” I ask.
“Nothing yet. When are you going to stop causing her problems?”
“Felicia, I don’t even know who she hit.”
“She said it was that woman you had an affair with years ago, Tiffany.”
I drop into the chair next to her. This can’t be happening. Surely, Tiffany wouldn’t have shown up at my place. I blow out the long breath that’s suffocating me. “Did Alayna sound OK? Was she injured?”
“She was shook up but didn’t tell me if she was hurt. I called her parents so they wouldn’t worry.”
Felicia sticks her finger out at me. What is with these two women and the finger wagging?
“You better not hurt her, Damon. She loves you, and I believe there isn’t anything she wouldn’t do for you or do to protect you.”
“Felicia, other than give her up, I’ve done everything possible to shelter Alayna from this nightmare. I love her and would never hurt her.”
Her face softens some, but it’s evident Felicia doesn’t trust me. I’m on my feet when I see my attorney, Trent. He spots me and smiles.
“Hi, Damon. Give me a few minutes to speak to them.”
“I’ll pay whatever it costs. Please get her released as soon as possible.” I run a hand through my hair and take off my suit jacket. After a few minutes, he approaches us.
“She’s already been moved to central booking. We’ll have to go to Centre Street. I’ll get her through arraignment quickly, but we’re still looking at many hours.”
“She’s not here?” I ask urgently.
“I’m sorry. This is the process.”
“OK. I’ll meet you there. Thank you, Trent, for doing this. Felicia, you can go back to work if you need.”
“No way. She called me, so I’m going to be there when she gets out. She might not want to leave with you.”
I grit my teeth. She’s pissing me off. All of us ride separately and meet back up. Felicia and I sit in another waiting area. I call Roger and ask him to come with Quinn, so I can return George’s car to him.
Glancing over, I see Felicia scrolling through her phone, still looking bitter.
“Felicia, I’m sorry for what happened at the restaurant with Alayna and your coworker.”
She drops her phone into her purse and crosses her arms. “Damon, I’m over that. My concern is for Alayna. I met her when we were only ten years old.
“I was feisty, whereas she was timid. I was self-assured, and Alayna was insecure. Every year at camp, she would follow my lead. Alayna has always been a follower.”
“She’s stronger than you think, Felicia.”
“Here me out. I knew her way of coping after Michael left wasn’t entirely healthy, but she was at least standing on her own for the first time in her life. No one else was telling her what to do.
“Since meeting you, she’s changed in positive ways. Alayna’s confident and will take up for herself ... feels loved and desired. You can take credit for that.
“But as fast as you’ve built her up, you could take her down. You could crush her in a second, and we all know it. She loves you fiercely, and today is evidence of that. Don’t crush her, Damon.”
Fuck. She looks like she’s going to cry before averting her gaze.
“Felicia, I’m not going to hurt her. I–I want to marry Alayna.” Her eyes dart back to me. “I don’t want to string her along like Michael did. She deserves better, and no one is taking her from me, so I want added assurance that it won’t happen.”
“Damon, are you serious?” Her mouth is agape.
“Yes, I’m serious. I know it’s soon. Do you think it’s so soon she’d turn me down?”
Felicia lets out a laugh and wipes the corner of her eye.
“No. I believe she’d say yes. I sure didn’t see that coming.”
“Alayna could crush me, too.” I look away. Felicia is a monumental part of Alayna’s life, so as hard as it is to discuss this, I have to. I need her on my side.
“She’s not the only one who has changed. Alayna makes me want to be a better person, and I intend to take good care of her. I need your support.”
Felicia smiles. “You’ve got it, Damon, but don’t give me a reason to cut off your sword.”
I raise a brow. “Sword?”
“You’re her gladiator.” She shrugs and turns a little red. Trent approaches, rescuing us from what has become an awkward conversation.
“It’s likely her wrist is broken, so I was able to get her moved up on the docket.”
“She’s hurt? Did Tiffany assault her? If so, Alayna needs to press charges, too.”
Trent pats me on the shoulder. “Damon, relax. I spoke with Ms. Wynn. She’s doing well. Her wrist is broken because she punched Ms. Kinkade.”
“What’s going to happen?”
“She’s never been in trouble before, so another appearance before the judge and probation should settle it, but from what Ms. Wynn told me, Ms. Kinkade will likely file a civil suit in an attempt to gain money.”
“That’s not surprising.”
“Ms. Wynn should be released in the next couple of hours. I think they want you out of here. I was informed there are paparazzi waiting out front.”
Will this shit ever end?
Alayna
Jail sucks. The whole experience is humiliating, my wrist hurts, and I have a strong suspicion that I’ll prefer jail over my brother’s shouting and Damon’s hand that will surely light my ass up red.
But as usual, the thought of being naked with Damon, and the pleasure and pain cocktail he serves me gets me excited. I’m given my belongings and then released.
His attorney is kind and helpful. I can’t imagine having to stay in this place for an entire day. A third of one is long enough.
I cringe when I walk out the door. Damon and Curtis are standing next to each other looking furious and worried. Damon hurries to me and wraps me in his arms.
“Please tell me you’re OK and that no one hurt you,” he says softly in my ear.
“I need to go to the hospital for my wrist, but otherwise, I’m fine.” The tears come now. I try to fight them, but I’m emotionally spent.
He lets me go and cups my face. “Precious, when you’re all healed up, you’re in so much trouble,” he whispers as his thumb wipes away a te
ar.
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
His eyes are urgently searching mine.
“Damon, I’m OK ... really.”
“Alayna, you need to say your goodbyes. I’m taking you home with me,” Curtis says. Damon’s eyes fill with rage. I grab his forearm with my good hand as he holds my face.
“Don’t, Damon. Let me handle this.”
I walk over to my brother. “You need to listen to me.”
“No, Alayna, you—”
“Shut up, Curtis. I appreciate you coming all this way to check on me, but I’m going home with Damon. Regardless of what you want to believe, he’s good to me, and none of this is his fault.
“So, either you can let me live my own life, seeing that I’m pushing thirty, or not be a part of it. Take your pick.”
He glares behind me at Damon before hugging me.
“I worry about you, Alayna. I’ll go, but we’re not done talking about this.”
“Yes, we are finished talking about it, Curtis. I’m not leaving him. Period. Now, go home.” He scowls and gives his usual childish show of an exit. I turn on my heels and take a deep breath.
“Girl, give me a hug before I get out of here,” Felicia says. “I won’t give you grief, but real soon, I need to hear what the hell happened today.”
“Thank you for giving up your whole day and leaving work. I love you.”
After making sure she’s in her car, Roger drives us to the hospital. Due to the publicity we’re receiving, the ER lets us wait in a room instead of the lobby. I rest while Damon works from his phone.
He’s quiet, and I imagine he’s shook up over Tiffany. After about an hour, I’m taken for an X-ray. Damon’s tie is off, and he’s sleeping in a chair when I return.
Instead of getting into the uncomfortable bed, I climb into his lap. He barely opens his eyes before drawing me snug against his chest, his nose burrowing deep in my hair. I hear him inhale and sigh.
“You’re maddening,” he murmurs. “I was worried sick. I guess my father’s lucky he didn’t get a fist in the face.”
“Speaking of your father, we need to see him tomorrow. I have to talk with him about something.”
“Let’s worry about that later.” He’s mumbling against my hair.
One Urge, One Plea, Keep Me Trilogy Page 31