by Claire Adams
“I don’t want to talk in the hallway, Ariana.” His tone was suddenly darker as he emphasized “Ariana,” almost daring me to correct him again. I was suddenly sorry I’d opened the door – more so when he pushed it and sent me flying back across the room.
CHAPTER FOUR
NICHOLAS
I was in as foul a mood as I ever remembered being in, and all because of a woman.
I never let women get to me…ever. Not once in my thirty-five years of life had a woman had the kind of effect on me that Emma had. For two days now, I hadn’t been able to get her out of my mind.
I was thinking about her so much that I sent her flowers. I wrote something about the ease of the photo shoot and how nice it was to meet her and how I couldn’t wait until Friday to see more of her work. I even put my cell number on the card. It was a huge bouquet, one that she would see or smell as soon as she walked into any room she put them in.
The truth was that it was her I couldn’t wait to see and I’m sure she knew that. There was practically no way I could hide it from her the other day and it caught me off-guard. I’d been restless lately and unhappy with my life, but when I left the studio that day, I couldn’t stop smiling. It had been a long time since I’d had anything to smile about.
I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked out at the city below. I used to love sitting at the top of the world and looking down on everyone else. I bought my first hotel when I was twenty-four with the help of an inheritance my grandfather left me.
It was a guilt thing on his part. He had abandoned my mom when she was a kid and I never met him. Apparently, he’d kept up with us and not long before my twenty-third birthday, I got a call from a lawyer in New York. He told me that my grandfather had done well for himself on Wall Street.
At the time, I was working as a dealer at Harrah’s. I dropped everything and went to New York to collect my three-million-dollar check. It was surreal, and I hung onto the check for almost two weeks before I finally deposited it. I spent another year working at the resort and talking to people about how to go about investing in one.
I got lucky when a small, family-oriented place went on the market priced at just over five million. Within a year, I had my investment back and the loan paid off. Just a little over ten years later, I owned six hotels and three major resorts.
At first, the money was enough. When you’ve never had any before, money really did buy happiness. I found out quickly, though, that it was like pretty much everything else, the glow wore off it eventually and you were left with that feeling of emptiness.
The problem was since I had everything a man could ever want – even a beautiful woman in my bed any night that I wanted – what was left? A relationship? Marriage? Words couldn’t even describe the terror that those words struck in my heart.
I turned from the window and scanned the opulence that surrounded me. I was in the penthouse of one of my new hotels. It was furnished in nothing less than the best. The fabrics and textures screamed VIP, as if the top floor didn’t all on its own.
The walls were off-white and the lighting soft. The accents were all a deep burgundy, which is my signature color. Fresh flowers sat in the expensive vases on the glass tables and reminded me once again why I was so pissed off. I reached for my glass of bourbon just as my phone rang.
I was going to ignore it until I saw that it was Sal. Salvador Ricci has been my best friend since fifth grade. He’s an investment banker, and although we lost touch right after high school, our friendship was strong enough to pick back up almost right where we’d left off when we met up again.
“What’s up, Sal?”
Sal laughed. “I’ll bet you’re the only billionaire in the world that answers his phone with a ‘what’s up?’”
“Probably the only one that’s sick of being a billionaire, too.”
“Well, you sound like shit. Is it more of the same?” Sal knew that I was sick of all of this. I was tired of the power games in Vegas. I was sick of competing with criminals and taking money from people that couldn’t even pay their rent. I was sick and tired of the fake women with dollar signs in their eyes.
I’d been this guy for so long now that I’m not quite sure if I even remember who I was before. I do remember that I liked him a lot more than the guy I am now. The young me thought he had problems, but he didn’t know the half of it.
“Thank you for pointing that out, and yes.”
“Are the Giannolas giving you hell again?” The Giannolas owned the hotel chain that was suddenly popping up everywhere I went. Their style of competition is to wait for me to build and furnish my hotel and then copy it almost to the last detail. Then they charge half of what I’m charging for mine. They’ve run two other hotel chains out of business doing the same.
“Yeah, they’re still assholes, but this isn’t even about that. I’m just tired, Sal. I’m 35 and I have nothing and I’m just so tired of it.”
He laughed. “I’m sorry, man. I do know what you mean, I was just thinking about what someone else might think to hear you say that you have nothing.”
I sighed. “I know. I sound like an ungrateful shit. I’m grateful as hell for the opportunities I’ve had over the past ten years. I’ve lived the good life, met celebrities, traveled the world…but damn it, Sal, I’ve done it all alone with no one to come home to on the other end. This isn’t living. Money is not enough. Although the alternative scares the hell out of me, as well.”
“You’re one hell of a catch, buddy. I’d have to say the only reason you don’t have a family is because you haven’t been seriously looking.”
I ran my hand through my hair and sat down in one of the wing-backed chairs. “That’s what scares me, Sal. How the hell will I ever find that? Everyone I meet is so fake.”
“Aw, come on, you can’t think like that. I mean, look at us. Neither of us came from money. Quite the contrary, in fact. But now we both have it and it hasn’t changed who we are. There are decent people left out there; you just have to stop dating the same ones over and over.”
“I thought I met a different one, but now I’m not so sure.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I went to get my photos done the other day for the employee brochures.”
“Lynn?”
I laughed. “Yes, at her studio, but no, not Lynn. I like her a lot, but she’s just not my type.”
“I gave her a whirl once; it wasn’t bad.”
Still laughing, I said, “You’re a pig. Anyways, she has this intern now; have you met her?”
“No, but if she’s got you excited I’ll have to make a point of it.”
I sighed. “That’s just the thing: She had me excited. I was more excited than I’d been…maybe ever. I felt this connection to her. It was like chemistry that you read about in books. It was fucking overwhelming, man.”
“So what’s the problem? She wasn’t feeling it?”
“I would have sworn she was. I mean, we shared some really intense looks, and I even thought she wanted me to kiss her.”
“But?”
“But nothing that day. I left with a smile that looked like I slept with a coat hanger in my mouth. I smiled like an idiot all day long and when I left my last meeting, I went by the florist in the hotel and had a big ass bouquet of flowers sent to her.”
“Wow, you must have felt something out of this world. When was the last time you sent a woman flowers?”
“Susie Carmichael, junior year.”
He laughed. “Good old Susie. She’s married now with four kids and she put on about fifty pounds. Still a damned good-looking woman, though.”
“Stay focused.”
“Okay, okay, go on.”
“The thing is, I have on occasion sent flowers, but I always have my assistant or someone do it. With Emma, I had this overwhelming desire to connect with her again on any level. I picked them out for her and I wrote the card in my own hand and told her how much I enjoyed meeting her. I e
ven put my number on it.”
“She didn’t call?”
“Not a word, not even a text to say thank you. I finally know what rejection feels like and it sucks. I completely misread her, and it pisses me off.”
“Maybe she’s just been busy.”
“Too busy for a four second text?”
“You never know. Maybe she’s had a bad week, or maybe Lynn’s been pushing her to help get ready for this gala. Lynn goes all out and I can see her being a slave driver to get something she wants. I think you’re looking for a little too much immediate gratification here.”
I thought about that. He was right. I was so used to just snapping my fingers and having what I wanted immediately that I’ve kind of forgotten how to wait for anything. “This is embarrassing, Sal, but I don’t date and I have no idea how to do it. Should I go by and see her at the studio or should I just wait and see her at the gala?”
“You already sent the flowers and she has your number, I say you wait. A guy like you could be intimidating to an average girl.”
“This is no average girl, trust me. But I know what you mean. Okay, I’ll try and wait.” He laughed, knowing me well enough to know I didn’t want to make any promises that I wasn’t sure I could keep.
“By the way, remember when you told me you might know someone interested in buying me out?” I’d done a lot of thinking about this and Sal and I had talked about it before. “I don’t like feeling stressed out all the time. I don’t like waking up in the morning alone and remembering it’s because I’ve spent my entire life focused on this business. I want out. I want to be normal.”
Sal was quiet for a minute, and I could picture him leaning back in his chair deciding what to say next. What he said surprised me. “Good. I think that’s a good move.”
“Wow. I thought you’d tell me not to sell.”
“Is the business making you happy, Nick?”
“No. Not anymore. I even thought I might start a new chain or branch out to another city but….”
“But you’re finished,” Sal said, reading my mind.
“Yes, I’m done, Sal.”
“All right. I’ve got a few ideas about financial groups that might be interested, one European group in particular. I don’t know of any single investors in a position to take over your majority off the top of my head, but I’ll start looking into that as well. I’ll get back to you in a few days, okay?”
“Thank you, Sal. I appreciate it.”
“So, what will you do when the deal is done?”
I laughed. “I have no idea. I have no skills beyond running a hotel.”
It was his turn to laugh. “That gives you at least a hundred job titles to choose from. But let’s get real here: you could live to be a hundred and never need to work again.”
“True. I doubt I could handle that. I’ll think of something, though.”
“I know you will. Hey, Nick?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t count yourself out with the girl just yet, either, okay? Most good things are worth waiting for.”
“Okay, thanks, Sal.”
I disconnected the call feeling better than I had all day. Looking at the clock, I saw that it was just after seven. I doubted that Emma would still be at work, but I did have to go out and get something to eat. It wouldn’t hurt to just stop by.
CHAPTER FIVE
EMMA
I had convinced Lynn I was sick, so for the past two days I’d been working alone in the studio in the evenings after she went home. She’s germophobic, so I knew she wouldn’t show up while I was there.
I spent my time editing the photographs she took during the day and finishing up on the ones that I took for Hope and Nicholas…and trying to think about anything other than Miguel Esparza.
I hoped that looking at the pictures of Nicholas would help. He was so handsome. But, every time I looked at his face on the computer, my heart hurt. The same night that Miguel showed up on my doorstep, I’d gotten the most beautiful floral arrangement that I’d ever seen with a sweet card and Nicholas’s cell phone number.
Obviously, he wanted me to call, but every time I thought I was going to, I imagined him asking to see me…or asking me about the gala again, the one I wouldn’t be attending. Miguel had seen to that.
The night he kicked my door and sent me flying, he’d let himself into the apartment before I could even get up off the floor. He closed and locked the door behind him. As I struggled back to my feet he said, “Sorry about that, Princess, but you wouldn’t listen.”
I glared at him, but at that point I didn’t say anything. As I limped over to the couch, he said, “You know your mother would have a heart attack if she saw you living in a place like this.”
I lowered my sore body down onto the couch. “Where I live is not my mother’s choice.”
“She might beg to differ. You are a princess. You have obligations to your loyal subjects.”
I rolled my eyes. “This is not the 1500s. My family are mere figureheads these days, and you know that as well as I do. My ‘subjects’ are merely fans. I’ve seen the social media posts; they’re comparing me to Anastasia and talking about making a movie. It’s nonsense.”
I flinched when he came closer. I swear he smiled. He was enjoying my newfound fear of him. “Your father would hate to hear you say that. You know how important family and stature are to him.”
“It’s his right to want those things. I don’t. I want this life I have.”
“Taking pictures of little girls and rich men?” The bastard had been following me.
“Yes,” I said with my chin up in defiance. “I love taking pictures, and I’m good at it.”
“Did that whore you work for help you sneak out of the country?”
“She’s my friend. Do not call her that ugly name.”
He snorted. “That’s what she is. She’s trash, and she’s the reason I found you. Your mother told me how you started talking non-stop about taking photographs and living in the United States. I simply looked up the whore and here you were.”
I started to stand up. I intended to tell him to get out. Before I had a chance, he put his big hand out and pushed against my shoulder. It didn’t just knock me down onto the couch; it actually tipped the couch and me over backwards. It hurt like hell, but I was so pissed that I hardly noticed.
“How dare you put your hands on me? What if my father…the king, heard about this?”
The son of a bitch laughed. “Suddenly you are the daughter of the king. You can’t have it both ways, Ariana. Either you are a princess or you are the trash you’re pretending to be.”
“What do you want, Miguel?”
“I want my princess bride. I want to be part of the royal family. I want what was promised to me six years ago. I’m giving you the chance to pack right now and come with me quietly. I have my father’s private jet gassed up and ready to go.”
“I will never marry you.”
“We’ll see.”
“Yes, we will,” I struggled up, tripped, and caught myself against the side of the couch with my side. “Shit!”
“She even cusses like a whore now.”
“Get out!”
“Or you’ll do what, Ariana?”
“I will call the authorities.”
He laughed again. “Those same authorities that you’ve been hiding from since you got here?”
“I’m not hiding from anyone. I’m a grown woman, and I have a right to go where I please.”
“Then why the fake name and the phony accent, and why cut all ties with your family?”
“I didn’t want to be found by the likes of you,” I spat at him.
He laughed again. “Oh, it was about me, was it? Good, I can tell your family that when I get back. Maybe that will help repair the damage you’ve done to your place in it.”
“You can tell them whatever you like. Now, get out.”
“I’m going – for now. But listen to me, little princess…
I will be back. You have one week to decide if you want to come willingly or not. But make no mistake here: I am not leaving the States without you. You will be my wife and when I have you on our wedding night, you better hope that you’re still a virgin and you haven’t been whoring with your blonde friend.”
Through clenched teeth I said, “Get out!”
“Goodnight, sweet Ariana. Dream of me.”
That was two nights ago. Now I had five days to figure out what to do. I shuddered at the thought of how Miguel planned to take me if I refused to go willingly. I had to run again, but where to?
Lynn was the only friend I had here, but Miguel was so angry and obviously prone to violence. I didn’t want to get her involved. I had no one to depend on but myself. I just had to figure out where to go and how to get out of town with Miguel either watching me or having me watched.
I had that last thought just as there was a knocking on the door. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I looked toward the glass doors cautiously, expecting to see Miguel there. Instead, I saw Nicholas, looking as handsome as he had the last time I saw him.
I reached for my sweater and slipped it on before I went to get the door. When I opened it, he was standing there with his hands in his pockets and a look in his eyes I wasn’t sure about. “Hi, Nicholas, this is a surprise. I’m afraid Lynn has gone home for the day already.”
“I’m surprised that you haven’t.”
“Oh, well, I had some work to finish up. Would you like me to call Lynn for you? Did you need something tonight?”
“I’m not here to see Lynn.”
“Oh.”
“I came by hoping that you would be here. Have you had dinner?” Oh my God, he’s asking me out. My first thought was that I looked a mess. My second thought was that Miguel was probably outside watching us.
“I did have dinner, thank you. Oh, and thank you so much for the lovely flowers. That was so nice.”
“I’m glad you liked them.”