Empowered

by Cynthia Dane

  Lucas removed his sunglasses the moment Sarah saw him. That was not a smile he wore, but it also wasn’t shock.

  Sarah flipped her book shut and grabbed her purse. Lucas abandoned the line he signed himself up for and approached her table.

  “So this is what you look like in your civies?”

  Don’t make eye contact. “Could say the same to you, Mr. Blackbourne.”

  “Please. Luke. Only my mother and business associates call me Lucas.”

  I will not call him that. That’s what she called the man she hooked up with a week ago. “Don’t bother sitting down,” she said as he pulled out the chair across from her. “I’m leaving.”

  “Then you’ve saved this table for me. My thanks.” He watched her put her book and phone away. “Have I done something to offend you, Ms. Clayborn?”

  Would her boss get mad if she told Lucas to fuck off?

  “I am not offended. I really must be going. You’re welcome to use this table if you buy something, I’m sure.”

  He glanced at her latte. “You haven’t even finished your drink.”

  “Don’t have time.” She stood, purse in hand.

  Lucas picked up the mug by the handle. Those ferocious blue eyes never once abandoned her as she struggled to leave as quickly as possible. “Would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

  He drank it. The freak drank the rest of her latte.

  “Do as you please, Mr. Blackbourne.”

  “I often do, Angel.”

  She froze midmotion.

  “I knew it.” Lucas put the mug down and leaned forward, voice lowering to ensure only she could hear him. “I knew it was you.”

  Sarah was going to be sick. She fumbled with the dirty dishes before giving up taking them to the bussing station. Her breath? It was long gone from her ever-tightening chest.

  “You were in New York last weekend.”

  She grabbed the corner of the small bistro table. An elderly gentleman at the neighboring table gave her a concerned look. “So were you, huh?”

  “Have a seat. We should talk.”

  Nope. Not gonna talk. Sarah would drag her purse behind her if she had to.

  Lucas reached across the table and lightly touched her floundering hand. “Please.”

  As if she took a bullet to the chest, Sarah slumped into her chair, gasping for breath.

  She had no desire to feel that man’s hand on her, and yet she couldn’t shake him off her. Why do I care about this? She could deny it. She could deny knowing who Angel was. Tell him to go to hell, where angels don’t dwell.

  “So you recognized me,” she said instead.

  “Wasn’t sure at first.” His sunglasses threatened to slide down his forehead. “You look a little… different.”

  Sarah didn’t say anything.

  “Your name is Sarah?”

  She bit her lip and looked away. “Yeah.” Before he could respond, she leaned forward and said, “This is a coincidence, I swear. I had no idea who you were. My boss didn’t…”

  “Your boss didn’t send you to seduce me as a welcome back to America present?” Why was he laughing? “God, he would.”

  How could he laugh like that? What was so fucking funny about this atrocious situation?

  “Just like I had no idea that you’re married.”

  Lucas stopped laughing. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re married. I saw and heard you talking about it.”

  “I’m not married.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Lucas crossed his arms on the table, determination burning like frost in his eyes. “I’m divorced. I was married until about a year ago.”

  “I see.” She supposed that would be easy enough to look up. “Sorry I accused you, then.”

  “Yes, it wouldn’t be good for my image if it got out I had an affair with my friend’s assistant while she was dressed up like an escort and as eager as one.” He waggled his eyebrows; Sarah wiggled in her seat. “So what’s that about, hm?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “No.” His tone deepened. “I suppose not. Because you like living the double life.”

  She shifted uncomfortably. Could she go now?

  “So you’re never going to say anything to Damon, and I’m not going to say anything to Damon, because that would be unnecessarily awkward. Also because I have a feeling he doesn’t know what you get up to on the weekends.”

  “For the love of God, stop referring to it.”

  “I seem to recall you enjoying yourself.”

  Could she blush any harder? That was something for Angel to enjoy. Sarah didn’t discuss these things with people.

  Certainly not the men she slept with.

  “You accused me of having a game.” This was the only thing she was going to say about it. “I’ll have you know I wanted nothing from you other than what you were willing to give.”

  He cocked his head, but said nothing.

  “I’m not looking to be your next Mrs. Blackbourne, at any rate.”

  “That’s too bad,” Lucas replied. “Because I was going to ask you out on a proper date.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened. Not only because of what Lucas said, but because of who next walked into the café.

  And put his hand on Lucas’s shoulder.

  “Problem?” Nigel asked. The grip on Lucas’s shoulder tightened.

  The man in question looked up into Nigel’s perturbed face. “No problem. Just having a chat with Ms. Clayborn. And you are?”

  “My brother.”

  Both men looked at her, Lucas with humble curiosity, and Nigel with desperate curiosity. “So you’re the infamous Nigel Clayborn?” Lucas shrugged Sarah’s brother off him. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Good things, I take it.”

  That sarcastic tone could kill the room. “Only the best.” Lucas got up and shielded his eyes with his sunglasses once more. “I must be going. I’ll see you Monday, Sarah.”

  The twins were silent as the casually clad Lucas Blackbourne exited the café and disappeared into the bright glare of the great outdoors.

  “Who was that?” Nigel asked. He did not sit down.

  Nor did Sarah meet his eyes that happened to be the same exact color as her own. “Lucas Blackbourne. He’s in town working with Mr. Monroe.”

  Nigel inhaled a deep breath. His gaze fell upon the latte cup, now conveniently on Lucas’s side. My brother knows what I always get here. She was not surprised when Nigel asked, “Are you screwing him?”

  “No.” Was the disgust palpable enough for Nigel? Sarah grabbed her purse once and for all. She was going for a walk, in the opposite direction of where Lucas went.

  She needed to think. Or not think at all. Certainly not with her brother’s judgment choking her at every turn.

  Chapter 7

  She knew she was dreaming. Yet as many good dreams go, the person dreaming doesn’t want to admit that it’s a dream at all.

  In Sarah’s case, nobody could blame her for refusing to wake up.

  Part of it was embarrassment. A little bit of shame. Because she dreamed of Lucas Blackbourne having sex with her right there in her bedroom.

  No context. She didn’t need context. This was her brain’s way of making sense of what happened with Lucas and what was continuing to happen with him in her life.

  Yes. That was it. That was her excuse. Dreaming about him fucking her in the most damn primal way.

  “Do you like the way I take you, Sarah?” Damn her brain for echoing her real name. She was supposed to be Angel, damnit! Lucas did not fuck Sarah. He only fucked Angel. “Do you always crave my cock like this?”

  She groaned, that sound echoing in her head like a siren going off over and over again. A warning siren.

  But dreams were supposed to be harmless, right? Right?

  “Yes.” Sarah didn’t want to admit it in real life, and she could barely admit it in her mind. “Fuck, yes, I want it.”

  Only in
a dream could a man be everywhere and doing everything at once. Depended on what Sarah fantasized about at any given moment, she supposed. Of course, her favorite instance was when he fucked her with crazy abandon, her hands plastered against his strong, broad chest and clinging to his powerful shoulders. His hips slammed forward until she felt nothing but his cock plunging into her with rapid-fire precision.

  “Do I fill you up? Do I make you whole again?”

  “Yes…”

  Sarah awoke to a shadow in her doorway. Sweat dripped down her forehead, not from the fever of a virus, but the fever of arousal. Damn me. She both wanted to go back to her dirty dream and to run away from her sweat-covered sheets.

  “You okay?”

  Nigel’s voice was like a punch to her forehead. “Yeah. What are you doing here?”

  He entered. The darkness of her room couldn’t hide the familiar way he walked to her bedside. Neither of them hesitated over his getting beneath the covers and turning toward her. “Went to the bathroom and heard you moaning like you were in pain.”

  You have no idea. “Where’s Carly?”

  “Asleep.”

  “In your room?”

  Nigel snorted. “Of course.”

  “She won’t care if you’re in here with me?”

  “Why would she care? You’re my sister. She doesn’t think it’s like…”

  Neither of them ever said the I word out loud. How could it be incestual to find solace in her brother’s arms? To cry in his presence? To use nothing but her eyes and a blip off her lips to tell him how everything was wrong? People didn’t understand. They grew in the womb together. They may not be identical twins split from the same egg, but they still shared a kind of bond that was unrivaled in every other area of life. They were closer to each other than they were their best friends and parents. Which said a lot, because Elizabeth Brown-Clayborn was fiercely protective of her twins.

  “You having a bad dream?”

  “Not really. Just vivid.”

  “Is it because of that guy today?”

  Now that was what sucked about having a twin. The bastard was too perceptive for his own good. Sarah probably revealed her tells when they were two gestating ovum. “Maybe.”

  “He causing you problems?”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “You know how it is for me at the office. Things are weird.”

  “So quit.”

  “You know I can’t.”

  Nigel was silent. They depended on Sarah’s income now that Nigel’s had been slashed. Working for Mr. Monroe together had built them a nice buffer should either or both get fired. Well, Nigel was forced to resign, and his new wage at the gourmet pizza shop wasn’t enough to cover his own bills, let alone the apartment’s. Sarah didn’t mind, but it did put more pressure on her to perform at work.

  And then there was Alice Monroe, walking around with her baby belly and reminding Sarah of what she could have had, if she had so chosen.

  And Russell Monroe, whom she avoided, but sometimes could not get away from seeing.

  No wonder Sarah had shut down most of her everyday emotions. There were triggers everywhere.

  “You need company tonight?”

  “No.”

  “All right.” Nigel lightly gripped his sister’s arm before crawling out of her bed. “You know where to find me.”

  “With your girlfriend.”

  “Like I said,” Nigel stopped halfway across the room, “she doesn’t hold it against us.”

  “Better hang on to that one. Who knows when you’ll find another girl who isn’t jealous of her boyfriend’s twin sister.”

  Nigel said nothing as he left. Sarah turned over and sighed. She did not dream of Lucas for the rest of the night.

  ***

  “Do I make you whole again?”

  That’s what she woke up thinking about. Not about the hot sex they were having in her dream, but that one line that was going to fuck her up for the rest of the weekend.

  Sarah glanced at the clock and hopped out of bed. Stop thinking about that dream. No shit she thought Lucas was hot. No shit she wanted to keep banging him until her poor pussy gave up the ghost. Noooo shit.

  That didn’t mean she wanted to actually think about it. God, no.

  Sarah pulled on her thickest bathrobe even though the apartment was always a tepid seventy-five degrees. The smell of bacon and eggs hit her as she went to the bathroom and splashed water onto her face. Sounds of Carly and Nigel’s voices drifted down through the open bathroom door. Sarah gave her hair a once-over with a brush before heading out to see what everyone was up to on a late Sunday morning.

  That wasn’t just bacon and eggs perfuming the air.

  Flowers.

  Bouquets of them.

  Sarah’s eyes widened as she stepped out from the hallway and stared at the three bouquets of roses lining the island counter.

  She looked for her brother, walking away from the front door with a fourth bouquet and a scowl on his face.

  “Somebody’s popular!” Carly exclaimed from the stove. She tossed a fried egg with a spatula before flashing Sarah a wide, pearly-white smile.

  “Somebody, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Nigel put the fourth bouquet on the counter. Four dozen red roses, freshly bloomed, cut, and spritzed, drank up the late winter sunlight coming through the windows. Each one sported a cream-colored notecard in the same spot. “Very popular.”

  Both he and Carly looked at Sarah. Nigel with trepidation, and Carly with excitement.

  “Go on! Tell us who they’re from!”

  Nigel and Sarah shared a look that implied they knew who it was from. Even so, Sarah slowly approached and picked up the card from the bouquet nearest her.

  “I want to get to know you.”

  She dropped the card and picked up the next one.

  “I want to know what you’re thinking and why you do what you do.”

  The next one.

  “I want to get to know the woman beneath the blond wig.”

  The last one.

  “Have dinner with me tonight at 7.”

  Just as Sarah tossed all four notes into the trash, the doorbell rang. Grunting, Nigel went to the door and brought back one last bouquet of red roses.

  “I won’t take no for an answer.”

  The back of the final card relayed the location of this supposed dinner. Sarah tore it in half and sprinkled the bits on top of the kitchen garbage.

  “We don’t like this guy, huh?” Carly said behind her.

  Nigel approached. “Give us a minute, hon.”

  Carly waited exactly one beat before turning off the stove and moving the skillet to another burner. “I’ll find some cute places for these flowers.”

  “You can have them,” Sarah grumbled.

  “That bathroom could use freshening up.” Carly walked away with a vase in her hands.

  Nigel waited until his girlfriend was gone before speaking to his sister with a low, cautious voice. “This is from that Mr. Blackbourne, isn’t it?”

  Sarah didn’t have to dig out one of the cards to read the initials and know that her brother was right. She knew they were from Lucas the moment she walked into the room. Only a flippant billionaire would send five dozen roses on a Sunday morning. “Yes. Seems so. I think he has a crush on me.” She glanced at her brother’s angry countenance. “It does not go both ways.”

  “This is…”

  “I lied to you, though.” Sarah pulled three plates out of the cupboard above her head. No sense standing around and letting Carly’s breakfast grow cold without some presentation. “I did sleep with him, but I didn’t know he was going to work with Mr. Monroe. It’s not happening again.”

  “Fuck.”

  At least he didn’t chastise her. That had never been Nigel’s style. I present the facts, and he works with the facts. Fact: Sarah had slept with his man. Fact: this man now fancied her. No point telling her she was stupid f
or fucking yet another billionaire, as if it was so easy to begin with. Lucas was certainly a step up from Russell, but…

  “I honestly didn’t know I would see him again. I was shocked to see him last week.”

  “It only happened once?”

  Sarah nodded.

  “Then he should respect it’s not happening again.”

  “I agree with you. I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow.”

  “At work?”

  “Mr. Monroe can deal with it.”

  “Ah, Jesus, Sarah… he can’t know about it.”

  Sarah bristled. “I agree, but I won’t tell him if nobody else does.”

  “You’re good at looking past the crap and getting your job done. Is this Blackbourne? You know how men like him are.”

  She flashed him a derisive look. “I sure do, Nigel.”

  “Ah… sorry. If you want, I’ll throw out these flowers.”

  “No, don’t. No sense letting them go to waste. Let Carly take some if she wants them. We’ll put one in the living room and I guess one’s in the bathroom now.”

  “Maybe I could take them to work tomorrow. Sometimes we give a flower away to people who come in for dates.”

  “Do that, then.”

  “Sarah.” Nigel wrapped his arm around her shoulders. His instant comfort may have been much needed, but she wasn’t going to let down her guard. “You gonna be okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “After what happened Friday…”

  “I’m fine!”

  Her brother backed off. “Carly and I are going to the zoo later today. Wanna come?”

  Yes. Sarah wanted to be wrapped up in the safety of her brother and his girlfriend. She wanted to go out and forget about Lucas, about Russell, about her precarious situation at work and the dangerous things she did to feel alive once in a while.

  But she also knew she shouldn’t intrude on her brother’s love life. He deserved to have personal date time with his girlfriend. Just like Sarah deserved to have her own time away from her brother.

  Fuck me. She sighed. “Think I’ll stay home today. I’m not going to see him. Don’t care what he thinks.”

  She finished setting out the three plates of breakfast. By the time Carly returned, the flowers had been redistributed and they were not brought up again. When Carly and Nigel went off on their date shortly after noon, Sarah settled in for a day of Netflix and maybe a long, hot bath with that book she couldn’t be bothered to read the day before. With any luck, her boss wouldn’t text her with a last-minute need for her professional services. Sarah needed the time to herself – toxic thoughts not included.