by Lan LLP
“I’ve heard that it caters to the dancers of that one celebrity dance show,” Nikki adds in a tickled tone.
“What are we waiting for?” Belle hurries us out the door.
I can’t believe they’re seriously suggesting we continue this dancing thing beyond our one-week obligation. There’s no way I’ll have time for it once I enroll back into medical school. I hate to break that news to them. Andrew proposes he and I get coordinating outfits for our next lesson.
“Lucy, if we can’t dance, we sure as hell should look good trying,” he kids in a sassy attitude while bobbing his head from side to side, making me laugh.
“With my two clumsy feet, I’ll need all the help that I can get,” I giggle.
My moment of glee turns dark the second my eyes meet Bianca’s as she rotates through the revolving glass door glaring at Belle. My legs lock up, nailing me at the entrance. I don’t think she knows me well enough to distinguish Lillian from Lucy. Regardless, I still get this chilling stab in my chest from her hateful stare. My fist clenches in response, digging my fingernails deep into my palms. The pain doesn’t even bother me. I’m too distracted by the demon standing before me in her costly designer suit.
“Nik,” Bianca calls after Nikki, but disregards Belle even though she recognizes her.
“Bianca, what a small world,” Nikki replies as she loops her arm around mine, possibly hinting that she has my back. “The food was excellent, but I’m sure you probably already know this,” Nikki attempts to ease the tension for my benefit.
“Are you visiting Carson? How’s he doing?” she considerately asks while the detached expression on her face tells a different story. “I’ve been meaning to stop by his office to pay him a special visit,” she adds. “Oh…and by the way, his girlfriend’s accident was such a tragedy. But I’m sure he’ll get over her in no time at all,” Bianca spits out her sentiments callously as she continues to glower at Belle. “No one has been able to capture that man’s heart the way that I have,” she boasts with pensive eyes suggesting to me that she’s reminiscing about their time together. Is she flippin’ kidding? I’m so close to blowing my cover by going ape crazy on her, and I don’t even care.
“It is a tragedy, but you wouldn’t understand because you’re a cold, heartless bitch!” Belle grits through her clenched jaw, grating the words I want to scream out myself. My best friend never fails to come through for me. I know that if Belle isn’t separated from Bianca soon, she’ll go Jerry Springer on her. She might be a skinny, beautiful model, but she isn’t afraid to go after anyone who pisses her or her friends off.
“Oh…it’s you—the wannabe model-actress from the middle of some corn field. Don’t hate me for what happened to your friend. Karma is a bitch. She stole my man, and lost her life as a result of karmic balance,” she insults and cuts into Belle at the same time. “Honestly, I can’t say I’ll miss her bland, country charm,” she continues. “It was rather annoying to me and would’ve probably bored Carson quickly.”
“You fucking whore! I’m going to kick your…,” Belle shouts and is interrupted as Andrew and Luke drag her out of the restaurant by her arms. For once, I wouldn’t mind seeing Belle kick someone’s ass. I can’t believe how much hatred Bianca has for me even after my supposed death. This bitch honestly believes I deserved to die. I’ve never loathed any human being as much as I loathe her. There’s no doubt in my mind she was involved with my accident.
“Nik, you really need to find better company. That girl is so boorish,” she suggests in an aloof manner with her chin slightly tilted up as she glares at me. “And who’s this girl?” she asks while pointing her French manicured finger directly in my face. With the heat that’s been simmering inside me, I can see me severing her index finger from her hand. I would then stomp on it numerous times until it made me feel better. It’s sickening what violent thoughts this evil woman can evoke from me.
“She’s my cousin. Lucy is visiting for a few weeks, learning the ropes from Carson,” Nik tells her the same lie that Carson told Evelyn. He must’ve fed Nik the same story so that everything will correspond. Reaching out to me again, she offers a cordial gesture that’s as fake as her big boobs.
Oh please, God, give me civility so I don’t yank her entire arm from her body.
Nik nudges me to shake her hand. I meet hers reluctantly. The artificial pleasantry in her frosty blue eyes fades when she looks down at our connection. I guess it’s impossible for her to be friendly even when she’s pretending.
“Nice to meet you, Lucy. Carson is smart and immensely gifted. I’m sure you’ll learn a lot from him,” she compliments. “Tell Carson I miss him and so does my bed,” she adds with a wink.
Oh God, help me now.
I’m one second away from smacking that irritating smug expression off her face. The only thing that’s holding me back is Nik’s arm around mine.
“I sure will,” I tell her in my best exaggerated Southern accent. “The funny thang is his bed doesn’t miss you, honey. His new woman stays the night all the time. I see her leave in the mornins when I stop by for coffee,” I goad with a crafty grin. It’s apparent my shrewd comments dug deep underneath her thick callous skin, leaving an unhealing sore that’ll stay with her. Her scowl is no longer hidden behind her phony smile. She’s angry at me, and I love it. The evil part of me celebrates my tiny victory.
Nik pulls at my arm to urge me to stop talking. “We better get going. Carson hates tardiness, Lucy. Bianca, it was nice to see you again. Let’s do lunch sometime,” Nik suggests.
“Yes, I’ll call you, Nik. Lucy, I can’t say that I’d care to bump into you again,” she gnashes her words at me.
“The feeling is mutual, Bianca,” I respond and walk away with the last word.
Bianca Sorté
I fucking hate her! My sharp fingernails were eager to dig into her thin little throat and rip her vocal cords out. Sasha swore to me she saw the SUV exploded with Lillian in it. Then why is she still here disguised in cheap makeup and a botched-up dye job? I was almost fooled until I saw Carson’s pink engagement diamond on her ring finger. And besides, Carson has never allowed anyone to sleep at his place except for Lillian. That stupid bitch thought she could pull a quick one on me. Apparently, I can’t count on Sasha to carry out a simple plan. I’ll deal with her incompetence later. If I want something done right, I guess I’ll have to do it myself. Lillian walked away thinking she had the last word, but she is so wrong. I’m not done with her yet.
Carson, my love, I guess I’ll have to work even harder to get you back into my bed.
My body doesn’t crave food now. It craves to be fucked thoroughly—all night long, the rougher, the better. Fuck Dr. Rancoman’s suggestions! They don’t work for me. I refuse to keep my appointment with him today. All he does is bitch about how unstable I am and how I need to take my meds routinely or I might end up hurting myself or others. Why the fuck would I want to hurt myself? He’s insane for even thinking that. I’d rather hurt other people, like Lillian. She’ll get no mercy from me.
__________
My mother, after years of leaving me under the care of several nannies, decided to mother me at the age of thirty. She insisted on coming with me to Dr. Rancoman’s office to hear about my progress. I was planning on skipping it, but now I have no choice. Unfortunately for me, he’s one of the few men I haven’t been able to seduce with my charm or body, so we do things his way.
Dr. Rancoman tells my mother I’ve been rapidly relapsing since my breakup with Carson. He also expresses his concerns for my volatile behavior. He recommends that I be admitted to a mental rehabilitation spa for a few weeks. No fucking way is he going to admit me to some loony bin, even if it’s catered to the rich and famous. I’m too busy trying to win Carson back to be locked away.
With my most deceiving nice voice, I promise I wouldn’t hurt myself and I would take my meds as prescribed like a model patient. I pray that’ll it appease his annoying concerns until our
next appointment. He doesn’t appear convinced, but he can’t force me to do anything against my will. For now, he agrees to let me handle it my way for another week. Taking the opportunity of his uncertainty, I rush my mother out the door so Dr. Rancoman can’t change his mind.
Damn! I need a drink to wash down all this bullshit. I’m too pissed at Sasha to have her join me. After dropping my mom off at her place, I ask my driver to take me to the Karma Lounge. How more fitting can this ritzy, high-end bar be for me to end my evening? Ideally, I’d rather pick up a rough biker in leather than a stuffy businessman, but I need my fuck fix ASAP and this place is most convenient at the moment. I’m like an addict who’s depleted her drugs—desperate and not choosy.
The lounge has a feel of the Orient. There’s an enormous Buddha statue fixed in the center of the place. Candlelight rather than artificial lighting is used everywhere for ambience. I’ve never been inside a temple before, but I imagine the interior of this club to be a replica of one. The host recognizes me from my clothing label and immediately offers the VIP treatment. I tell her I’m honored, but I’d prefer to sit at the bar because it would be far easier for me to pick someone up if I’m more accessible.
I strut over to a massive wraparound bar to find Carson with a drink in his hand, sulking alone. My eyes are surely deceiving me. It can’t possibly be. Was I wrong about that girl Lucy? How coincidental would it be for her to have the exact engagement ring? I creep up closer to get a better look and notice that his hair is darker, and he’s sporting a goatee. There’s something different about him, but I can’t put my finger on it.
“Carson, is that you?” I attempt to grab his attention before sitting down. He ignores me as if he didn’t hear me call after him. “Carson, it’s me, Bibi,” I try again with a tap on his shoulder.
“Excuse me, but should I know you?” he swivels his seat around to ask while observing me. I’m confused. He’s looks everything like Carson, but in a more angst and jagged way.
“I’m sorry, but I thought you were someone I know,” I reply.
“No problem, beautiful. Maybe I can still be that someone you’re looking for,” he trifles with a dimpled smile exactly like Carson’s. I can’t seem to separate them.
“I’m hoping on it. Are you from around here?” I sit down on the empty stool next to him and begin my irresistible Bianca seduction with my hand on his knee.
“I’m sort of a local. I travel a lot for business and spend most of my time away from home,” he answers with his hazel eyes directed at mine.
“I see and how long will you be in town this time?”
“It depends on how this evening ends,” he implies forwardly.
“I don’t sleep with strangers. What’s your name?” I ask daringly.
“Wes. I already know yours, Bibi, so now we’re on first name bases. I’m no longer a stranger,” he tells me. Jesus, I love the way my nickname bounces off his sexy lips.
“Perfect, my place or yours?” I eagerly pursue as the wet area between my legs hastens me. God, if he fucks anything like Carson, too, we’re going to have a long night ahead of us. My panties are now drenched with the exciting possibility.
“Yours. My place is under construction right now. It’s a total disaster,” he replies.
“Your driver or mine?”
“Mine,” he insists. “It’s only fitting for a gentleman to take his beautiful lady home.”
Chapter 13
Carson Bradley
The last thing I need is for Lil to run into Bianca. Is it possible that the forces of probability are much higher here in Boston than anywhere else in the world? I can’t seem to avoid those forces, no matter what measures I take. Luke texted me a warning about the incident as soon as it happened, adding one more lead weight to my mountain of burden. My mind is ready to explode like a hidden landmine. All I need is that one thing to trigger and set it off. Between running a pharmaceutical empire, researching, charity functions and keeping the woman I love as content as possible, I can’t think lucidly anymore.
I’m just one person—I can’t handle it all.
After a lot of soul-searching and reasoning, I finally decided to contact Jean-Pierre and convinced him to assist me with David’s botanical component. In his Haitian-French accent, he trifled the only reason he’s agreeing is because he likes Lily and not me. He wants to make sure that I will marry her. I gave him my word and assured he’ll be on top of the wedding guest list. Jean will make his presence next week after he finds a suitable replacement for his position at Pearl Mountain Resort. For all that he’s done for me; I’d give this man one of my kidneys if he’d ever need it. The same goes for Owen.
Stopping by Owen’s office before leaving, I tell him, “I’m out. I have an emergency at home. You should go, also. I’ve worked you too hard.”
“What’s going on?” he pries while peering up at me through his frameless glasses.
Ever since I confided in Owen and sought for his advice about my Lillian situation, he’s been more personable. This warm side of him is unfamiliar to me. The problem might’ve been me and not him all along. Before Lillian, I was a driven executive who purposely made myself unapproachable. I only spoke to my employees with a need in mind. It was never personal, just about business matters. My private life was a mystery to them except for what they could gather from the tabloids.
“Lily ran into Bianca, but Luke doesn’t think she recognized her and now she’s rightfully upset,” I disclose.
“Bianca is a poisonous thorn. She needs to be removed before she digs deeper and causes a serious infection,” he replies.
“I’m working on it,” I assure him. “Luke reported Sasha is almost at the breaking point. We’ll have her fessing up in no time, and hopefully, she’ll tell me what I want to hear.”
“Let’s pray we’ll be able to put Bianca behind us soon,” he tells me. “On a lighter note, you’ll be able to share some good news with Lillian. Her friend’s wedding is coming together nicely. You will both be able to attend without any security concerns. We’re having most of the guests sign a non-disclosure agreement with a monetary incentive.”
“This wonderful news will definitely offset her shitty day. Thanks, Owen.”
“You’re welcome, sir. Have a good evening.”
“You, too. Now go home, Owen,” I suggest.
__________
What the hell is going on in my penthouse? There’s way too much commotion on the opposite side of this door. As soon as I enter, I’m bombarded with more people at my place than I’ve ever had in all the years I’ve lived here. Luke is at his usual corner, Nik and Belle are both talking to someone in the kitchen. But where is Lil? It’s almost overwhelming for a recluse like me.
“Hello, Carson. How was work?” Nik hollers from her spot while the others wave their hands.
“Typical,” I reply dryly. “What’s going on in here? It looks like a party,” I pry as I try to hold back my testiness. At this time of day, I’m in no mood for any company other than Lily’s. We’ve both had a long day. All I want to do is level out the bump Bianca added in Lil’s path.
Nik paces toward me in a hurry and whispers, “Andrew is teaching Lil how to make your favorite rib eye roast. It’s a distraction to keep her mind off Bianca for now.” Christ, I can be such a dick. These wonderful people are doing me a favor, and what do I do in return? I give them my usual pain-in-the-ass attitude.
“Thanks, Nik. Where’s the sous chef?” I ask as my eyes search around the room for Lil. Ever since I received Luke’s text, all that’s been on my mind is Lil and how she’s been coping. I wanted to drop everything to be by her side, but the reality is I have an obligation to my company that affects not one or two but hundreds of thousands of ill people.
“She’s talking to her mom in your bedroom. She’ll be out in a sec,” Nik answers. “It was ugly this afternoon, but Lil handled herself like a champ. You would’ve been proud of her,” she brags.
“I’m
not surprised. She’s tougher than she appears,” I add with a kiss on her cheek before heading into the kitchen to find Andrew. I have some explaining to do.
“Hey there, Chef. Thanks for teaching my fiancée how to cook one of my favorite meals,” I attempt to ease into a humiliating confession.
“No problem. She’s sharp as a Wüsthof knife and will probably have this meal perfected by the next time,” he praises Lil with a look of admiration on his beaming face.
“Andrew…,” I mutter. “I want to…”
Andrew interrupts, “No need to explain, Carson. I understand why. I’m just ecstatic that it wasn’t true because it would’ve been a tragedy to lose a treasure like Lillian.”
“She is a treasure,” I agree feeling relieved to get that unnecessary weight off my chest. “The food smells wonderful,” I pay Andrew a sincere compliment as I inhale the baked aroma coming from the oven.
“Wait til you taste it,” he flaunts with a curvy smile.
“Looking forward to it. Will you please excuse me? I’m off to find my fiancée.”
“Sure thing.”
Striding toward my bedroom, anxiety begins to flood in like a powerful tsunami, wiping all my defenses away. For once, I’m inarticulate. I have not a clue of what to say to ease her situation. She just came face to face with Bianca; the person who we both think is responsible for her accident. Lil has been fearful of her motives since her second run-in with Bianca. However, I assured her Bianca isn’t crazy enough to be a threat. My misjudgment cost us a painful miscarriage. Can I blame Lil for holding a resenting torch against me? No. Even I blame myself for being deceived.
Snooping on the opposite side of the privacy door with my ear pressed against it, I can hear Lily’s soft voice. She’s speaking in English—not Chinese. She’s almost whispering. And then I hear, “Thanks Richard. Thanks for looking into it for me. Bye,” she tells him before ending the call. What is she having Richard checking for her? I assume it has something to do with Bianca. It bugs the hell out of me that she doesn’t confide in me, but seeks answers from Richard instead. I straighten up before entering the room, trying my best not to look guilty of eavesdropping.