Here for You
by
KC Ann Wright
Here for You
Copyright © 2015 KC Ann Wright
Published by Blue Orchard Productions
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1 Ashley
Chapter 2 Ashley
Chapter 3 Cam
Chapter 4 Ashley
Chapter 5 Cam
Chapter 6 Ashley
Chapter 7 Cam
Chapter 8 Ashley
Chapter 9 Cam
Chapter 10 Ashley
Chapter 11 Cam
Chapter 12 Ashley
Chapter 13 Cam
Chapter 14 Ashley
Chapter 15 Cam
Chapter 16 Ashley
Chapter 17 Cam
Chapter 18 Ashley
Chapter 19 Cam
Chapter 20 Ashley
Chapter 21 Cam
Chapter 22 Ashley
Chapter 23 Cam
Chapter 24 Ashley
Chapter 25 Cam
Chapter 26 Ashley
Chapter 27 Cam
Chapter 28 Ashley
Chapter 29 Cam
Chapter 30 Ashley
Chapter 31 Cam
Chapter 32 Ashley
Chapter 33 Cam
Chapter 34 Ashley
About KC Ann
More by KC Ann
Dedication
To the love of my life. I am here for you.
Chapter 1
Ashley
As I step out onto the deck, I breathe in the salty ocean air and immediately feel at home. Even though technically this has never been home, the few good memories I have with my family are from this house. Oh, I know from an outsider’s perspective my life looks pretty good. But as I know all too well, things are not always what they seem.
I inherited my sorry-excuse-for-a-dad’s business two years ago. The transition was smooth with very few hiccups as I’d been running it for years prior to that anyhow. Not that my dad was an inadequate CEO—he was actually a very successful businessman. The problem was that he had only ever thought about himself for the last decade of his life. Nope. Scratch that—for as long as I can remember. He was selfish, obsessively selfish, and when he wasn’t thinking about himself, he was thinking about how he could gain an advantage in the future.
When conducting business, this is actually a great quality, but when dealing with your family and kids, it’s really not an ideal trait. My parents were technically married up until the end. That was simply a technicality on paper including living arrangements. My dad bought this house a year into their marriage. My mom lived here every summer then year round as soon as my younger sister graduated from high school. Even though she would stay with my dad in the city when he asked her to, this house is where she was happiest.
But none of that is the reason I’m here today. I’m here to mourn my most recent loss. My now ex-fiancé may be searching for me, even though if he used the head on the top part of his body he would know exactly where to find me. The fact that he didn’t arrive here shortly after me just tells me what I believed is correct. He doesn’t care what he did to me. At least not enough that he would actually follow me and apologize for his indiscretion.
I can’t say he was truly my soul mate, the person I was born to find. Sure, I loved him, but I can’t confidently say I was in love with him. But he was one of the few people left in my world that I trusted. Key word being trusted, as in past tense. That was ripped away from me today, and I think I’m more upset about that than actually losing him as my fiancé. I live in a tough world, and people I can truly trust are a precious commodity.
When you’re at a certain level of business—and by level, I mean company worth—some things are taken out of your hands. I don’t expect everyone to understand, and I certainly don’t expect people to feel sorry for me, because they may not understand what it’s really like to be in my position. I do have gorgeous houses, fast cars and beautiful clothes. These are just possessions though, things I must have to keep up appearances. I wouldn’t choose many of the things I have if they weren’t required. Some of it, of course. But most things, no, absolutely not. There’s a dark side to wealth, as my family found out all too well.
I don’t hate having money, but I hate that it dictates my life. I work almost every waking hour and I love what I do, which actually is a bonus in my world. Many people don’t, and those are the most miserable of the bunch; not only is their personal life a façade but so is their every day business world. That to me would be the saddest place to be. So I feel like even though my parents are gone and my fiancé cheated on me, at least I can go back to my company on Monday and love stepping through the doors.
Knowing I still have that allows me to relax my shoulders an inch, and I take another deep, therapeutic breath. I know I will move on from this day, but it will take a little time to forget the deceit.
“Oh my God.” My voice is a mere whisper as it is meant only for my ears.
I get myself in check before I start to actually drool. The man strolling up the beach in front of the house next door may be a perfect specimen. Literally as close to perfect as I can even begin to imagine. Wearing only board shorts and either just coming back from a serious weight workout or naturally ripped at all hours of the day, he’s a solid mass. I know he could bench press me a hundred times in that many seconds. He’s well over six feet tall, and every inch is lean muscle.
Caramel-colored hair and—I’m guessing—light colored eyes, the man is a gift. Beautiful. He was put on the earth for women like me to have something to stare at. I know I just caught my fiancé cheating less than two hours ago, but it’s unfair to think any woman would not notice this man. Somehow, I manage to tear my eyes away before he notices me tracking him like a starved animal.
I’m not sure when I will date again, so I’m not interested in him for that reason. I honestly don’t have it in me to put the effort in for a new relationship, and I work so much that there is no time to get to know someone new anyway. This is another one of the reasons I’m upset about the break-up. At least with my idiot of a fiancé, I had a date to take to business functions, dinners and, as pathetic as it may sound, sex at least once a week. Yes, once a week is pretty good considering my schedule. I would have made more time for it if I had a reason to, but in his case, once a week was plenty. Now I will have to attend functions solo, which is fine for business but just more work for me because I will not have anyone else to turn the attention to or to help keep up conversation.
There is also the side of me that’s actually very upset about a decade-long relationship coming to an end. By no means am I cold-hearted. I need love and affection as much as the next person, and at least I had someone I could count on for the last ten years. This is the part that has me acting like any other woman. I really am hurt, and that’s why I need to be at the beach this weekend drinking my pain away.
Yes, if I had a choice I would have stayed in the city to drink with my best friend, Quinn. She’s great and I wouldn’t trade her in for anyone. A little crass at times and certainly never one to be accused of being shy or quiet, but I love her regardless of her totally inappropria
te behavior on occasion. She’s not always obnoxious, but depending on the day and her mood, she can offend even the most patient person because she doesn’t let up. She goes after what she wants in life, and God help any person that gets in her way.
Unfortunately for me, she’s overseas in Bora Bora or somewhere romantic with her most recent fling. I honestly don’t know why she travels with them because nine times out of ten she breaks up with them either on the trip or within the first few days home.
A little while later I sit down at a table on the deck with my plate of take-out and a bottle of the best Cabernet I could find in the house. There’s no way I’m cooking for myself tonight. I love to do it, I really do. But after this day I can’t bring myself to stand in front of a hot stove or oven.
As I put in a mouthful of the best eggplant parmesan around, I see Mr. Hottie on the beach again not far from his house. At least he has a shirt on now, although it barely contains the muscles pulsing across his entire body. God, Quinn would be drooling right now. My friend has all the right curves and attracts every man that crosses her path. Having her pick of the litter, she could date any man out there. She’s intelligent and beautiful enough to be a model, but for some reason she always picks losers. Always.
The man standing over there would be perfect for her. Well, at least perfect on the eyes. For all I know, he has a terrible personality. Either way, she needs to know I’m watching pure perfection walk around the beach.
From: Ashley
Q, u would not believe how hot my neighbor is!
From: Quinn
That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you! I have taught you well. I was worried that I would need to fly home early to take care of u because of that asshole!
I laugh to myself. Two things about that statement are funny. Quinn would never, I mean never, leave vacation early unless the world was actually coming to an end. And the second reason is because she’s completely right. The usual conservative and always-in-control Ashley is missing right now. However, I think we should all be granted a day and evening of insanity following the break-up of a decade-long relationship.
From: Ashley
Yep, u r a fantastic influence!
From: Quinn
Stop it! Don’t mock me. You know u r so much better with me.
From: Ashley
Totally agree, which is y I can’t figure out y u r not here right now.
From: Quinn
Don’t make me feel bad. I told u I would come home if u needed me but u assured me u were fine. Do u need me?
I really want to tell her to come home, but I would never do that. I miss her so much right now, and I have no idea what to do with myself without her or Charlie the douchebag. Wow. I probably should slow down on the wine. I rarely use derogatory names, and I certainly don’t ogle hot men. I honestly can’t remember if I’m on the first bottle or the second. Shit. This is not good.
From: Ashley
I think I should probably go to bed. I’m starting to talk like u and we both know that’s not normal and probably not a good thing.
From: Quinn
Don’t disappoint me now. U go talk to hottie. What u need is a good one-night stand. Come on, Ash, you’ve never done that!
I laugh quietly to myself. Quinn is right on that. I never did the one-night thing in high school, as I don’t imagine many girls do, and I had been dating the jerk since college, so that pretty much eliminated the possibility of it. I’m definitely anti-cheating, so I never even would have considered sleeping with another man.
From: Ashley
Tell u what. If I tell u I’m considering it, is that good enough?
From: Quinn
Hell yeah! Can I reiterate how proud I am?
I laugh again, but then I hear a very feminine voice coming from the back of the house next door.
“Cam?”
“Yeah.”
“Cameron is going to bed. Do you want to say goodnight?”
“Sure. I’ll be right there.”
Wow. If there was ever an ultimate buzz-kill, it’s just happened. So that I don’t have to answer to Quinn on why I didn’t follow through on my threat, I send a quick text.
From: Ashley
Hottie has a wife and kid. Oops! Somehow I missed that earlier. He was the only one outside, so at least I can’t fault myself for drooling.
From: Quinn
Damn, girl. That sucks. If it was just the wifey, I’d tell you to move in, but I would NEVER tell u to make a move on a man with a kid. Hottie or not, even I have limits! Yeah, yeah, I know u r rolling your eyes at me but I really do have some morals.
From: Ashley
I know u do, Q. Thanks for listening to me earlier. I appreciate u taking the time out of your pre-honeymoon.
Now I know I definitely have had too much to drink because I’m finding I need to close one eye to type and read my texts so I can see them straight.
From: Quinn
Girl, I’m always there for u. No matter what. And quit the stupid talk, u know I will break up with Francis before we land or within a day of being home. But I do have to say he has been an excellent distraction from my real life.
From: Ashley
Please, NO details over text! I’ll talk to u when u get home. Love u!
From: Quinn
I will save them for our first break-up drink together. Love u too!
I slide the phone in my pocket and pick up my plate along with the empty bottle of wine. I’m so going to feel this tomorrow, but at least I’m not feeling anything right now.
Chapter 2
Ashley
“Ugh.” The incessant buzzing of my Android is over the top this morning.
First things first. Pain killers. From there I can move into the regular routine of my Saturday. The only difference this morning is that I have to remind myself that I’m single and I need to remember this for later. My typical night of sex this week was taken away from me yesterday. In a good week, I might have had sex multiple times. Now, this is not to confuse multiple times of sex with multiple orgasms. Hardly. I was lucky if I got one ‘O’ a week. For some reason I was really looking forward to it this week. I guess instinctively I knew I was going to be deprived of it.
After swallowing some Advil, I click away responses to some of the most important emails. Too many to get through as always, but I have to finish what I can to make my life easier come Monday. They never stop, which normally I don’t mind, but right now I actually would welcome a little peace and quiet.
Knowing it will help me, I call my assistant, Lizzy, and give her a few things to do over the weekend. She will receive comp time for the hours she’s working this weekend. Oh, who am I kidding, there’s no time to take comp time, so most likely she’ll never get these hours back. But before you think I’m still in bitch-mode, she gets paid very well for what she does, and she will be up for promotion much earlier than she ever expected. She does a fantastic job for me, and I honestly don’t want to give her up as my assistant, but it’s more important to me that I don’t lose her completely. I need people with her drive and passion.
I force myself to eat something, and I’m proud when it stays down. I never should have drunk so much last night, and I deserve to feel worse than I do right now. Thankfully, I manage to get through a few more hours of work before I decide it’s time to go for a run. I came to the beach house to get away from the city and enjoy the weather.
I slide on a pair of black running shorts and grab one of my favorite bright pink tank tops. At this moment I can really use anything that makes me feel better about myself. Seeing your fiancé in bed with another woman doing things he’s never done with you is a serious hit to the ego.
Second knot done, I pat the top of my shoes before standing up to grab my iPod. Earbuds in, I set the music to one of my running playlists. One that’s on the heavy side and sure to encourage the brisk pace I need to clear my head of all other thoughts.
My mom’s house is about a
n hour and a half north of San Francisco. The drive along the coast is peaceful, and more importantly, it’s a safe distance between the city and me. Being on the beach is therapeutic, and I now understand more than ever why my mom spent so much time here.
There are a few miles of uninterrupted beach and the ocean breeze feels perfect today. When I take off, no one is outside the house next door. Maybe they were renting during the week and have already taken off, which would be a shame for them. In my opinion there’s nothing like a lazy weekend on the ocean.
I turn around about two miles in as my breathing is already labored and my legs feel like they each have a twenty-pound weight attached. I only have myself to blame. I know this. If I hadn’t consumed mass quantities of wine, I would be feeling a million times better. But I’m not sure how anyone could expect me not to drown my sorrows. I know it wasn’t the only solution and not my usual go-to, but it seemed like the easiest quick-fix last night.
Sadness starts to creep in as I near my house. I’m pretty sure I’ve been in shock for the last twenty-four hours, which is why I wasn’t myself last night and, to be honest, not as broken up as I should have been. I rub my eyes to keep the unshed tears in. If I can at least hold them in until I’m inside my house, I’ll feel better. Safer to cry in solitude. Never in public.
Caught up in my thoughts, I almost miss seeing Mr. Hottie on the beach in front of his house. He’s not wearing a shirt again, but the vision of him holding his young son is thankfully enough to dampen any inappropriate thoughts. As I near my deck, he unexpectedly turns toward the water and the smile on his face at whatever he’s telling his son is almost enough to take me down. My legs feel weak from the beautiful smile. That, combined with the extra forty pounds I feel like I’m carrying forces me to use all of my focus to make the last few strides up the beach to my deck.
Here for You Page 1