by Pamela Yaye
Her smile vanished. “Y-y-you can’t fire me.”
“I’ll have my accountant put your final check and an official letter of termination in the mail first thing tomorrow.”
Nichola stared at him in horror, as if she’d just seen a ghost.
His heart was heavy, filled with frustration and disappointment. He was so disgusted by Nichola’s behavior, he couldn’t stand to be in the same room with her a moment longer. “I want you gone by the time I finish getting dressed.”
“Demetri, don’t do this,” she begged. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
“You don’t love me. You love the benefits of managing a celebrity.”
“Of course I do. Who wouldn’t?” Nichola’s smile was back, shining in full force. “With my brains and beauty and your talent, we could be the next celebrity power couple.”
Demetri didn’t bother to answer. Shaking his head, he turned toward the staircase.
Nichola grabbed his forearm and threw herself against him. “Come back!”
Breaking free of her grasp, Demetri strode out of the room and down the hallway. He heard glass break, then an earsplitting wail, but he continued upstairs to the second floor.
In the master bedroom, Demetri fell down on the bed and dropped his head into his hands. Angela used to be an escort...an escort... The word froze in his brain. Demetri didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to believe. He wanted to make sense of what Nichola had said. What if it was true? What if Angela used to be an escort?
So what? his inner voice said. Everyone has a past, even you.
The truth slammed into him with the force of a battering ram. He’d made a lot of mistakes in the past and had done things he was ashamed of, but things had changed for the better when he’d met Angela Kelly—the strong, tenacious TV newscaster who lived to help others. It didn’t matter what Angela had done in her past. All that mattered to him was the here and now.
He wasn’t going to shut her out or lump her in with all the other lying, conniving women he’d had the misfortune of meeting in the past. He’d known from the first time they’d met that Angela was different. She challenged him, inspired him and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. They had great talks about life, their families and the stress of being famous in a celebrity-obsessed world. Angela cared about him, loved him despite his faults and shortcomings and put his needs above her own. Finally, Demetri understood why she’d lied to him that night in the penthouse suite. It wasn’t because she didn’t love him, but because she did.
Demetri rose to his feet and headed into his walk-in closet. Kicking off his sneakers, he searched through his dress shirts for something to wear. “Call Angela at home,” he said aloud. The cordless phone dialed the number, and after three rings, her voice mail picked up. Her sweet, sultry voice filled the room, and thoughts of loving her consumed him. “Baby, it’s me. Call me back. We need to talk,” he said after hearing the phone beep.
Demetri tried her cell phone next, and when she picked up on the first ring, he charged over to the dresser and snatched the cordless phone off the base. “Angela?”
“Hey,” she said, her tone somber.
His shoulders caved, and his heart fell. He heard the apprehension in her voice and wondered how things had gotten so bad, so fast between them. “I need to see you. We have to talk.”
“I can’t. Now’s not a good time.”
“It’s important that I see you as soon as possible.”
“Why? What else is there to say?”
Demetri heard a loud, piercing scream and stared down at the phone.
“What was that?”
“I’m at the hospital.”
“Why? What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m good, but I can’t say the same for Simone. Her water broke while we were having lunch at the Skyline Grill.”
“How’s Marcus doing?”
“Great,” she said with a laugh. “His daughters aren’t even born yet, but he’s already handing out Cuban cigars!”
He loved to hear Angela laugh. He didn’t want to ruin her mood, but he had to know the truth. He opened his mouth, prepared to ask her about the accusations Nichola had made, but the question died on his lips. This was the wrong time. More than anything, he needed to hold her in his arms. “I miss you, baby. I miss us.”
“I do, too, Demetri, but things are confusing right now. I just need some time.”
“Come to the estate after you leave the hospital.”
“I don’t know if I can...”
“Please?” he begged, not caring how desperate he sounded. He was desperate—desperate to touch her, to kiss her, to stroke her soft, smooth cheeks and her flawless brown skin. “If you don’t come to me, then I’ll just have to come to you.”
“No!” Her tone was sharp enough to cut glass. “We can’t do this today, not here, not now. I promised Simone I’d be in the delivery room for the birth of her daughters, and I’m not going to let her down. We’ll just have to get together another time.”
Demetri thought hard, racking his brain for the right words to say. He had to say something, had to prove to Angela once and for all that he loved her—unconditionally. “Let’s meet at the penthouse to talk. I’m headed there now.”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, baby. You can do better than that. Say yes.” Every second that ticked by worried Demetri more. “I just want to talk. That’s it.”
Dead silence settled over the line.
“Okay, I’ll be there.”
Demetri released the breath he was holding and smiled for the first time all day. “Hurry, baby. I’ll be waiting.”
Chapter 23
“Good morning,” the robust security guard said from his perch in front of the reception area. “Welcome to WJN-TV, home of five Emmy Award–winning shows.”
Demetri couldn’t believe his good fortune. The security guard, who’d taken him to Angela’s studio that fateful morning three months ago, was on duty. Finally, something’s going my way, he thought, pausing in front of the bronze statue to check his cell phone. There had been no missed calls or text messages. No word from Angela whatsoever. She hadn’t turned up at the penthouse suite on Monday night, and if not for Nicco threatening to disown him, he would have stormed Mercy Hospital looking for her. But that morning, after waking from a restless night of sleep, he’d decided enough was enough. He had to see Angela today. No matter what. And he’d driven to WJN-TV at the first light of day. He had to talk to her face-to-face.
As Demetri strode past the elevators, a hush fell over the lobby. He heard people whispering, saw cameras flash, felt the heat of a dozen wide-eyed stares. Hearing his cell phone buzz, he stared down at the screen.
His muscles tensed as he furiously clutched his phone. For the past three days, Nichola had been blowing up his phone, but he hadn’t answered any of her calls. He didn’t want to talk to her. At least not yet. Once he worked things out with Angela, he’d hash things out with his former publicist—but not a moment sooner. “What’s up?” Demetri said, approaching his favorite security guard. “It’s good to see you again, man.”
The smile slid off the guard’s wide, fleshy face. “What do you want?” Anger clouded his eyes and crimped his lips. “Because of the stunt you pulled the last time you were here, I got written up, and my hours were cut.”
“My bad, man. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
“You insulted a newscaster! What did you think was going to happen?”
Demetri noticed the security guard’s name tag and then lowered his eyes to the floor, as if he were consumed with shame. “I feel terrible.”
“You should. Everyone’s not a millionaire like you.” His voice was heavy with sarcasm. “I need this job to support my family.”
<
br /> Demetri reached into his back pocket, removed a small white envelope and offered it to the security guard. “Jorge, this is for you. I want you and three of your friends to be my guests at the celebrity baseball game next month.”
His tongue lay limp in his open mouth. “Y-y-you do?”
“Of course. You’re my number one fan, right?”
The security guard snatched the envelope out of Demetri’s hand. “These are box seats! Box seats!” he chirped, waving the tickets in the air. “Those seats are worth five grand apiece.”
Demetri clapped the security guard on the shoulder and motioned toward the corridor with his head. “I need you to take me to Angela’s studio one last time.”
The security guard shook his head. “I can’t. Company rules. Unauthorized visitors aren’t allowed in Studio A anymore. Not even celebrity ones.”
“I’m not here to make trouble.”
“But the last time you were here—”
Demetri cut him off. “The last time I was here I was trippin’ big-time, but I’m not here to upset Angela.”
“I don’t know about this.” Sweat broke out across his forehead and drenched the front of his navy blue shirt. “I can’t afford to lose this job. My old lady will kill me.”
“She’ll be happy to see me, Jorge. I know it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.” Demetri forced a smug look. The truth was, he didn’t know what to believe anymore, but if he wavered, even for a second, the security guard would toss him out. And nothing was more important to Demetri than seeing Angela. He had to trust his gut. Something told him they were going to make it, that they’d be okay. “We’ve been dating for months. Haven’t you heard?”
“I heard this morning on the radio that she dumped you.”
“It was one big misunderstanding. That’s why I’m here. To apologize.”
Jorge wore a small smile and nodded as if he understood. He spoke quietly to the receptionist, and after several minutes of heated conversation, the frizzy-haired blonde buzzed open the door to her left. As Jorge led Demetri down the corridor, he jawed about the celebrity baseball game and fretted over whom he should bring to the event.
Outside Studio A, Demetri put a hand on Jorge’s shoulder and gave him a stern look. “Turn off your cell phone, Jorge.”
“My phone? What phone? I, ah, left it in my truck.”
“The last time I was here, you recorded my conversation with Angela and posted it online. Not cool at all,” he said. “I don’t like being the butt of people’s jokes.”
“It wasn’t me. I swear.”
“Don’t play me.” Demetri glared at Jorge to let him know he meant business. “I could tell by the angle the video was shot. You were standing right here, just inside the door, filming your little heart out.”
Jorge shuffled his feet and fiddled with the walkie-talkie in his pocket. “I recorded the video just for kicks, but I wasn’t the one who posted it online. I sent it to a couple friends, and the next thing I know it was on the six-o’clock news! Sorry, man. I didn’t mean for it to get out.”
“No screwups this time, okay? My entire future is riding on the next ten minutes.”
“I won’t let you down, Demetri. I promise.” Jorge straightened his hunched shoulders and gave a salute. “What do you want me to do?”
“Just stand here and keep watch over this door,” he said, gripping the shiny gold doorknob. “Make sure no one comes in. Think you can do that for me?”
“Of course. That’s what they pay me for.” Jorge chuckled. “Go get your girl, Demetri. Good luck!”
“Thanks, man. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”
* * *
“I want to do it all. Act, sing, dance, model,” announced the bubbly tween star with the pink braces and glittery eye makeup. “I want to be the next big thing and nothing’s going to stop me!”
Angela wanted to roll her eyes but smiled at the pop star instead. The twelve-year-old girl went on and on, jumping from one topic to the next. It was virtually impossible to stay focused, and when she broke out in song, Angela’s mind wandered. Out of the corner of her eye, she studied the large wall clock at the back of the studio. Ten more minutes and I’m out of here!
“I’d love to come back on your show when my album drops this fall. It’s called Celebrity Love and...”
Angela nodded, keeping her smile fixed in place. She needed to move the segment along, but she couldn’t get a word in. Not one. Instead she sat there rehearsing what she wanted to say to Demetri when she arrived at his estate later that afternoon. Now that her family knew the truth, she could finally come clean to Demetri.
To ward off the tears stinging the backs of her eyes, Angela bit the inside of her cheek. Witnessing the birth of her twin goddaughters, Victoria and Aaliyah, had been a life-changing experience, and seeing how happy and close Simone and Marcus were made Angela hanker for a rock-solid marriage, too. She wanted babies—Demetri’s babies—and the thought of spending the rest of her life with the man she loved, who completed her in every way, made Angela’s heart swell with unspeakable joy.
A bright light suddenly flooded the studio, and a cold gush of air whipped through the room. Shivering, she crossed her legs and clasped her hands around her knees. Angela opened her mouth, a question poised on the tip of her tongue, but when she saw Demetri striding into the studio through one of the side doors, her mind went blank. Empty. Angela was so shocked, so stunned to see him, she convinced herself he was just a figment of her imagination.
Angela blinked, told herself to snap out of it. She had to be dreaming, fantasizing. No way Demetri was on her set, live and in the flesh—again. Only this time around he wasn’t shooting evil daggers her way. He smelled dreamy, and if his smile was any bigger it could eclipse the sun. Angela expected security or her producer to stop him as he strode onto the set, but no one moved a muscle. She wanted to tell him that they were on live, but Angela couldn’t get her mouth to work.
“I knew the first time I saw you, here on this very set, that you were the only woman for me.” His voice was soft, as tender as a kiss along the curve of her spine. “I never dreamed that three months later I’d be madly in love with you, but I am. I love you with all my heart, with all that I am, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Angela cupped a hand over her mouth to trap a scream inside. Her eyes filled with tears. Angela felt her heart pounding in her ears like a mighty rushing wind.
Demetri took her hands and helped her to her feet. Her palms, like her legs, were drenched in sweat and shaking uncontrollably. His gaze was intense, but the smile on his lips was comforting. His eyes glistened with amusement, making her feel light-headed and weak.
One of the station’s interns marched onto the set carrying a silver tray. Wearing her brightest smile, she looked straight into the camera and whipped off the cover with a dramatic flourish. A velvet ring box sat on a bed of red rose petals. The fragrant scent filled the studio.
“I love everything about you. Your infectious smile, your upbeat attitude, the way you burn my breakfast just right.” A grin crossed his lips when he winked. “I want to cook for you and laugh with you and watch Family Feud every morning with you in bed.”
His words made her heart melt to a puddle at her feet. But Angela knew if they were going to have a future together, she had to tell Demetri the truth about her past. “There are things about me you don’t know,” she began, unable to hide the quiver in her voice. “Things that could affect our relationship and our future.”
“Angela, there is absolutely nothing—” he reached out to her and cupped her chin “—you could say that will change how I feel about you. I believe in us, and I won’t let anything or anyone come between us again.”
The crew oohed and aahed.
<
br /> “You’re so beautiful, so perfect for me in every way,” he praised, leaning forward and brushing his nose against her cheek. “You were made to be cherished, and I vow to love, honor and adore you for the rest of our lives.”
A tear broke free and trickled down Angela’s cheek.
“I want you to know and believe that.” He rested a hand on her chest, and Angela covered it with her own. “You brought love and laughter back into my life, and for the first time in years, I’m genuinely happy. And it’s all because of you.”
Without looking, Demetri snatched the velvet ring box off of the tray and dropped to one knee. The cameraman wheeled the camera forward.
“I can’t live without you, Angela. You mean everything to me, and I’m nothing without you.” Demetri popped open the velvet ring box. “Baby, marry me. Make our love complete by becoming Mrs. Demetri Morretti.”
Angela gasped. The radiant-cut canary-yellow diamond was the size of a marble. It flashed under the bright studio lights, easily the biggest diamond ring Angela had ever seen, and when Demetri slid it onto her fourth finger on her left hand, more tears spilled down her cheeks.
“I want to say yes, Demetri, but I can’t. Not until I tell you everything.”
“I know everything and I don’t give a damn. I want you to be my wife.”
“You know?” she asked, struggling to breathe.
Demetri placed a finger to her lips. “I know, but I don’t care.”
“You don’t?”
He shook his head. “Nothing’s changed, Angela. You’re still the only woman I want by my side.” He leaned forward and whispered softly in her ear. “Just so you know, I’m not leaving this set until you say yes. I’ll camp out right here on the couch if I have to.”