Amber Nights - The Esquire Girls Series - Amber's Story (Books 1, 2, 3 & 4) - Box Set

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

Chapter 15

  “You look beautiful,” Spencer whispers into my ear before stealing a quick kiss as his business associates wrangle back and forth about the appropriate terms for the offer they intend to make jointly for the Orlando property that DisSpence will be involved in purchasing. The combination of the cognac on his breath and the heat of his words on my neck makes me heady. The fact that I’m on my fourth glass of white wine doesn’t help either.

  I smile across at him. I set down my fork next to my empty plate and reach over to wipe the traces of my burgundy lipstick off of his skin with the edge of my thumb.

  I do feel beautiful wearing the low-cut ruby red satin dress that he surprised me with once I had settled into his hotel room this afternoon. And after a day of unadulterated fun at Disney World, I couldn’t even feel the exhaustion that should be bearing down on me because I’m excited. Excited about making love to Spencer tonight. Excited about meeting his family tomorrow. Excited about the next steps that we’ll take together.

  I almost can’t believe that I tried to run away from him at first. I can’t believe that I believed that anything my job had to offer could exceed what this love is giving me. I feel brand new each time I find myself in his arms. It’s like the painful episodes of my past never happened.

  And when the meal is over, he escorts me to the discreet black SUV awaiting us on the curb and we are whisked off to his hotel suite and we make love with the windows wide open, the moonlight streaming in causing his skin to gleam as he hovers over me. His eyes are so tender. His touch is so gentle. His kiss is everything. The fluid movement of his body moving in and out of mine blurs all lines, shatters all hesitations that were still lingering on the peripheries.

  And I think that’s when I know…that’s when I know that I could spend my forever with him…

  Chapter 16

  The warm breeze is beating my face, sending tendrils of my hair flying in all directions. I pull my sunglasses down into my face, throw my head back and stretch my arms wide. “I have a crush on Spencer Harrrrriiiiisssssssoooonnn!!!!” I yell at the top of my lungs.

  He looks over at me, one hand on the steering wheel, “Bambi Roberts has a crush on mmmmmeeeeeeee!!!!” he yells throwing his free hand into the air.

  I erupt into giggles. I reach over and run my fingers through his madly disheveled hair. It’s all I can do to stop from hopping into his lap and kissing him passionately while we swerve along the narrow winding roads leading towards his family’s cottage.

  “My mother’s really excited to meet you,” Spencer says, the sun already setting over his shoulder. “She always wanted to be a lawyer, so that’s probably all she’ll want to hear about.” He chuckles.

  I smile tightly. Up until 36 hours ago, I hadn’t even known that his family lives in Orlando. Actually, up till 36 hours ago, Spencer had only ever mentioned his family on one occasion. And even then, he hadn’t gone into detail about them. So, as excited as I am to meet them, I really don’t know what to expect.

  “Were you and your mom close growing up?” I ask trying to string together some sense of his relationship with the woman before I saunter into her home.

  Spencer tilts his head to the side without taking his eyes off of the road. “Yes and no,” he says but doesn’t offer more.

  “Yes and no? What does that mean?” I prod.

  “My mom’s always been a sort of guarded woman. I think she did it to protect my sister and me from the rawness of her own jumbled up emotions. But I got really protective of her after my dad left. So I can’t say that I know every detail about her, but I can say that protect her viciously.” There is a tone of vulnerability as the words slip out of his mouth.

  “Hmm,” I say. I change the subject a bit. “I thought your family was from Philadelphia?” It comes out as a statement with a question mark at the end.

  “We are – from Philadelphia. But once I could afford it, I bought my mom her dream lakeside property in Florida. That’s what she always wanted.” A faint smile touches his lips. “It was meant to be a holiday home…for the winter…but she’s so in love with it that she spends most of the year here with her new husband and my grandmother. My sister, Rebecca – who’s obsessed with my mom, by the way – started spending more and more time in Florida to be close to mom. And then, she met Colleen – her partner – in Orlando. Colleen has a 14-year-old son, Justin – from a previous relationship. So now, Rebecca virtually lives in Florida, too.”

  “Okay,” I smile grateful that Spencer is letting me into every part of his world.

  Just then, he pulls off of the main street onto a private roadway. I watch in silence as he punches a security code into the panel at the edge of the driveway. The gates creek open and he parks diagonally across the path, blocking the garage door at the side of the lavish house.

  “You said it was a cottage,” I mumble clutching my fist to my chest as I take in the breathtaking two-story house. Its high arches and shuttered windows indicate that it was built with British colonial-style architecture in mind but it has an obviously modern twist with its all-white coral stone façade. A decadent veranda sweeps across the front of the upper level and short palm plants dot the front yard.

  I immediately feel nervous and small in the shadow of this immense home.

  I step out of the car as Spencer races around to my side to grab our bags and help me onto the cobblestone pathway. His palm firms against my hip as he attempts to steady my wobbly gait when my heels wedge occasionally between the cracks in the cobblestone. “It is a cottage,” he insists. That makes me smile.

  With his hand still resting possessively on my hip, I climb the three small steps leading up to the house’s front entrance. I stand back as he pushes open the imposing, dark-stained wooden door.

  “Anybody home?” Spencer calls out dropping the bags with a thud as we step into a large foyer with wooden floors in the same hue as the front door. Aside from a commanding, colorful abstract of a nude woman hanging at the far end of the hallway and a few pairs of worn shoes kicked off carelessly near the staircase, the beautiful room is bare.

  “Spence?” A female voice echoes throughout the room accompanied by a set of hurried footsteps. An excited golden retriever rounds the corner first followed by a tall, graceful woman with shoulder-length brown-gold hair. She practically leaps into Spencer’s arms once she catches sight of him.

  “Becks!” Spencer exclaims, flowering her whole face with kisses as she squeezes him tight, wrapping her long legs around him. The dog bounces around excitedly, wagging his tail, impatient for attention.

  Another faint pair of footsteps can be heard approaching in the distance. While Spencer and his sister continue their enthusiastic greeting, I approach the diminutive, white-haired lady with a warm smile. I reach my hand out to her. “Hi,” I say in a timid voice.

  “Chloe?” she asks, a hopeful lilt in her voice. I cringe when she says the name of Spencer’s dead wife.

  Spencer is finally able to wrestle himself away from Rebecca. “No, grandma – this is Amber,” he says in a soft voice placing an arm around her shoulder while petting the dog with his free hand. The old lady looks confused, her gaze volleying from Spencer to me and back again.

  I reach my hand out to her again. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

  Her eyes dart to Spencer as if for permission before she accepts my hand.

  “Sorry, my grandmother has a touch of dementia,” Spencer explains in an apologetic tone.

  “A touch?” Rebecca says sarcastically. “Grandma’s got full-blown Alzheimer’s.”

  Spencer throws an angry snare her way and Rebecca smirks in response.

  “I’m Rebecca,” she says to me almost bouncing on the spot. “You can call me Becks or Becky or just Rebecca. Whatever – Sorry, I’m really excited to meet you. When mom told me that Spence had a girlfriend I almost freaked and then when she said that Spence’s girlfriend was coming out here –“

  “Rebecca, stop rambling,” Spencer chid
es like only a big brother could. I smile. It seems like Becks is a talker but she seems harmless compared to my own sisters.

  “I’m Amber,” I say as she shakes my hand enthusiastically.

  “Mom’s in the kitchen cooking up a storm, driving Bob crazy. And Colleen and Justin are in there too sneaking samples of whatever it is she’s whipping up,” she grabs my wrist. “C’mon, let’s go meet them.”

  I toss an amused smile over my shoulder to Spencer as his sister drags me down the hall to meet the rest of their family, the dog hot on our heels.

  He looks annoyed.

  But to me, this feels good. It feels real good.

  Chapter 17

  I knew it was all too good to be true.

  That’s what I’m thinking as I stare up into Domenic Gattusso’s handsome face.

  “Amber, what the fuck did you?” He’s leaning over the partition next to my desk. He’s whispering.

  “What do you mean?” I ask. I feel my pulse quicken immediately. Domenic is a nice guy and all but we don’t exactly run in the same circles. He tends to spend most of his time with Madison Moretti who seems to fence herself off from most everybody else. So, if he’s at my desk with that look of pure terror on his face, something must be wrong.

  “Moretti – I just went up to his office – he’s tearing up the floor, going nuts and the only words I could understand coming out of his mouth were ‘damn Amber Roberts.’ What did you do?” His eyes are saucers.

  Mr. Moretti going off? Domenic is surely exaggerating.

  Mr. Moretti is the poster boy for composure and professionalism. He lives in three-piece designer suits. His demeanor is always cool, calm and collected although sharp as a razor. Domenic must be mistaken. There’s no way Mr. Moretti is going off and if he is, I have nothing to do with it.

  “I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say to Domenic. I try to keep my voice level but my foot instinctively starts tapping ferociously.

  “Well, I’d suggest that you find out, Amber. I think it’s pretty serious.” With that, he slinks back to his cubicle across the hall from mine.

  Just then, my cellphone buzzes on the corner of my desk. Spencer’s name lights up on the caller ID.

  “Hi,” I say into the phone, my voice trembling.

  “You need to get over to my office right now, Amber. Take anything of value to you. My driver will be waiting outside of your office building.”

  His phone clicks off in my ear.

  With shaking hands, I quickly gather my personal belongings – if Spencer’s call has anything to do with the brewing storm that Domenic has just warned me about, I have a matter of minutes to get out of here before Mr. Moretti’s torrents bear down on me.

  It’s not that I’m a coward and that I want to run away from whatever mess it is that I’ve created, it’s just that I really have no clue what I’m up against and I’d rather be prepared for any potential showdown with the managing partner of this law firm.

  …And, okay…I guess I’m a coward, too.

  Chapter 18

  The elevator doors push open on the 30th floor and I step into the reception area at the DisSpence Group offices.

  I’m barely steady in my four-inch stilettos as I march up to the gleaming black front desk.

  “Straight to the end of the hallway. Up the stairs,” the grim-faced redhead at the reception shoots at me without even looking up.

  I don’t bother to thank her as I take long strides through the sliding doors behind the reception area. I am again unable to avoid the prying eyes of Spencer’s employees huddled around their large work desks as I walk by.

  The door to Spencer’s office is closed. Just as I’m about to climb the first stair, a shapely woman in a curve-hugging hunter green dress comes from behind me and elegantly eases her way behind a long desk huddled into a corner at the foot of the stairs leading to Spencer’s office door. “Hi? Amber?” she says in an accent that betrays that Spanish is her mother tongue.

  “Yes?” I say, squinting my eyes at her. I haven’t met her before. I’m sure of that.

  “Isabella Diaz,” she says, her hand shooting out in my direction. “I’m Spencer’s administrative assistant.”

  “Hi,” is all I say giving her hand a brief shake.

  “Spencer will need a few minutes before he sees you. You can have a seat in the waiting area,” she says graciously gesturing towards a large black stone slab positioned adjacent to the floor-length window across the room. I give her a brief smile before turning and walking gingerly in the direction of the window. I pause awkwardly next to the slab. “You can sit – it’s a bench,” she says with an amused tone. “Nobody gets it. The whole ‘industrial chic’ design of the office is a bit off-putting for people more accustomed to traditional office spaces…I like it, but it can be confusing if you’re not used to it.” I look over at Isabella with her thick, dark hair falling in waves down her back, her dramatic cheekbones and her long eyelashes. She’s beautiful and sultry like she should be a telenovela star – not an administrative assistant. “Uh – Where are my manners? Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  That’s when I notice the rich scent of espresso wafting down the hallway. I’d actually love a cup of coffee right now, but I decline because I know that it would do nothing but flare up my already intense jitters.

  Long moments pass before Spencer’s office door swings open and he hops down the stairs to greet me. He wraps me in a hug that is far more comforting than sensual and that’s when I know that something is very, very wrong.

  He weaves his fingers into mine and leads me up the stairs and into his office.

  A wave of surprise crashes over me when I see Stella Goldberg, with a tiny baby strapped to her chest, lounging on the leather couch in Spencer’s office.

  Chapter 19

  “Stella!” I gasp, genuinely excited to see her.

  She looks up at me, “Amber! Get over here and meet my baby!”

  I’m practically bouncing as I make my way over and slide onto the couch next to her. “Oooooh! He’s so cute!” I coo, stroking the sleeping baby’s foot.

  “He’s a charmer and he’s such a good boy. Sleeps right through the night.” She beams proudly. “His name is Jordan. Jordan Goldberg.”

  I coo again, petting the baby’s cheek affectionately. “So, what are you doing here?” I ask, pulling back to look into her face.

  Spencer speaks up. “That’s actually why I called you down here.”

  I look at him, confusion shrouding me.

  “I hired Stella – she’ll be in-house counsel for DisSpence,” he announces casually from the mini bar in the corner of the room where he is pouring a golden liquid into a tumbler.

  “In-house counsel?” I repeat still confused. “You’re on maternity leave.”

  “Spencer made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” Stella says grinning so wide I fear that her cheeks will pop.

  Spencer approaches me. “It will be a very flexible gig. Stella will be working from home most days and I’ll hire outside counsel over the coming week to do most of the heavy lifting.” He crouches in front of me and places the glass of alcohol in my hands.

  “Oh god – Moretti’s tantrum,” I whisper to myself as understanding slowly creeps up on me.

  “What?” Spencer says softly resting his hand on my knee.

  I bring the glass to my lips and chug its contents back in one swift motion. I stand and his hand drops limply to the floor. “Before I left – one of my co-workers told me that Moretti was throwing a tantrum in his office – calling my name.” I rub my hand to my chest to soothe the burn of the alcohol flowing through me.

  “Oh…Stella sent him a notice on behalf of DisSpence this morning confirming that his firm’s services are no longer needed,” Spencer informs me as he eases to his feet.

  I gape in disbelief. “Why would you do this to me?” I mutter.

  Spencer stares at me dumbfounded.

  Stella pipes in, �
��Honey, I was planning to leave Cartwright anyway. I was ready to get away from the mad hours and the office politics. Spencer’s offer was just the final push. It was a god-send.”

  “Yeah, but Mr. Moretti will see it as my fault. He’ll blame me for losing you,” I cry.

  Stella looks to me, her eyes sympathetic. “Amber, you need to understand something – Spencer was always my big fish, my client. I brought him to Cartwright. So no one should be surprised to learn that I’d follow him out the door.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better, Stella,” I say in a low voice.

  Spencer takes a deep, measured breath. “Amber, we need to talk about your future over at Cartwright.”