by Lyz Kelley
“The street? I don’t think so. I bet you’ve been gossiping with Linda again.”
The burn scars on her face made it impossible for her facial muscles to show emotion, but he’d become familiar with the snorting, choking sound she made when she laughed. “You’re in love. I can tell. You smile a lot more these days.” She eased against the chair back. “Do I need to find a new place to live?”
“Not unless you want to. You and Sophie are always welcome here. I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. This is your forever home. You can stay here as long as you like.”
“You’re right. I still have a hard time believing you offered me a room with no strings attached. I remember the day you found me on the streets and told me you’d give me a home. I told you to fuck off—I wasn’t nobody’s whore.”
“You said a few other things as well.”
Angel shrugged. “I’d lived long enough on the streets to understand most people want something.”
“‘You haven’t lived until you’ve done something for someone who can never repay you.’ That’s my favorite John Bunyan quote. Words to live by.”
“Yeah, well, not everyone is like you. Just because a man wears a fancy suit doesn’t mean he’s a saint. I’ve seen plenty of fancy dressers paying for sex, or taking it as their due.”
He scratched his chin. “If I’d left you out there that night you would have frozen to death. I had to do something.”
“Actually, that was my plan. They say hypothermia is not a bad way to go.”
Sorrow sliced through his heart. He hated that people could feel so helpless and low that they believed death was their only option. Like Kirsten, Angel had no idea how many devastated souls she would have left behind.
“Now look at you. You have a job, and Linda tells me you have a girlfriend. Is it serious?”
“We’re just friends. She’s straight, but we’re into the same things.” Sophie jumped into Angel’s lap and circled into a furry ball. “What about you? You like this Courtney chick?”
He picked up the wooden salt grinder and fiddled with it to let his mind settle on an answer. He liked Courtney. When he woke up this morning, he realized he missed her soft, whistling snore. The silence he once craved no longer seemed important. The house seemed lonely without her laughter. He missed her scent. He even missed her off-key singing.
Every moment of the day he missed her. Missed touching her. Missed learning from her. While he was filling out the chef’s menu list, he wondered if she’d like raspberries and ice cream, or sour cream potato chips. He put both snacks on the list, just in case. She fit into his life so easily, like she’d always belonged.
“I’ve seen that look.” Angel nudged him. “You’re in lurvvvv.” Angel’s kissing noises sounded more like a cat food can lid being opened than a sensual sound, but he got the idea.
“How would you know?”
“’Cause for the first time since we’ve met, you don’t have a snappy comeback, nor did you deny that you like her.”
“I like her. She’s pretty and she makes me feel…”
“Sexy?”
“I was going more towards normal. She gets me. She sees me for who I am, not the suit I wear.”
Angel rolled Sophie over on her back, her fingerless stumps rubbing the cat’s tummy. “Courtney sounds like a keeper.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
He remembered the treats he found for Sophie, dug them out of his pocket, and laid them on the counter. “You said you wanted to see if Sophie likes these freeze-dried shrimp. Haley found them online for you.”
“You got good peeps.”
“You’re good peeps.” He nudged her leg with his. “Any more nightmares?”
Angel brushed a piece of cat hair off of her sweatshirt. “Only one.”
“Did you tell your psychologist about the fears surrounding your dad getting out of jail?”
“Not yet.” She shifted uneasily. “I’m afraid my dad might find me through my artwork.”
Weston rested a hand against her smooth, scarred skin which had required years of surgery to make it appear somewhat normal. “You changed your name. You’re careful about not putting your face on social media, and you haven’t contacted any of your old friends. You’ve done everything you can to make it hard to find you.”
“But what if he finds me?” Her leg bounced rapidly, so Sophie had to spread her legs and dig in her claws to hold on. “He almost killed me the last time.”
“Mike and Haley are keeping tabs on him. They’re here for you. You need to paint. Go to the animal shelter. Go out with friends. Live your life, Angel. You deserve happiness.”
“And you don’t?” Angel stared at him hard. “When’s the last time you had fun?”
The last time Courtney was in my arms.
“Let me worry about me.” He slid off the stool and brushed the salt off the counter from playing with the shaker. “I need to give Linda a call to see what color Courtney’s wearing tonight.”
“Fine. Ignore my question. Life can change in an instant, Weston. Don’t wait to grab your happiness.”
He wasn’t waiting. He didn’t have time. He had something to prove. To his family…friends. He wanted to show everyone he was worthy. That he was a good son and brother. That he could run companies that saved thousands of lives and provide for his employees and their families.
He wanted to be a good human being.
And he’d make sure the shelters were running effectively, to remind him of his failure.
A failure that would haunt him the rest of his life.
Chapter 22
Courtney tiptoed to the shelter door in her three-inch heels and mermaid designer dress. “Wish me luck,” she said to the ladies, who were cooing, awing and touching her hand or shoulder in support.
She rubbed the simple diamond pendant cradled between her collarbones. Her confidence had come and gone all day, but Weston’s thoughtful gifts comforted her.
Valerie appeared at her side. “Your ride’s here.”
“You sure you won’t go with me?” Courtney knew her voice was shaky, and she needed to get control of it before getting to the hotel. “I’m sure there’s room, and I’m not sure I want to arrive at the hotel alone. I keep having this nightmare that I’m going to trip and fall facedown on the cement.”
“You’ll be fine. Just make sure your train doesn’t get caught or stepped on and everything will go smoothly. And I’ll be along shortly. You go on ahead. I have some last-minute chores to take care of here.”
“I could ask Mike to return to pick you up.”
“Then I will be late.” Valerie gave her an affectionate squeeze. “Stop worrying about me. You need to concentrate on killing that speech and convincing people to open their wallets.”
Courtney rubbed her index finger back and forth over her freshly painted thumbnail, but the repetitive motion did nothing to calm her queasy stomach. “I can do this.”
“Yes, you can, baby. You got this.”
She kissed Valerie on the cheek. “Love you.”
“Don’t you dare hug me. You’ll mess up that fancy dress and makeup job. Go! Before you make this old lady cry.”
Courtney clutched her mini-purse containing lipstick, credit card, cash, and cell phone. Not a lot of emergency supply stuff when so much depended on tonight.
Valerie opened the front door. “Go.”
Courtney lifted her skirt and took a step onto the front stoop, then froze, her jaw slack. Weston, stunning in an elegant black tuxedo paced next to a shiny black limo. “Hey. You’re here.”
His smile resembled the Philharmonic playing Beethoven. It started out soft, and then ascended to a bold crescendo. His approaching stride matched his enthusiastic expression.
“You look stunning.”
“I thought we decided to arrive separately so no one could connect you with Empower House.”
“I gave it some more thought,"—he lifted her hand
in his—“and decided you’re more important than keeping my connection to EH a secret."
I love you whispered in her mind.
He rested a hand on the small of her back. The warmth from his touch sizzled up her spine and out to her fingertips and toes, her anxieties about the evening fading away.
“Are you ready?” he whispered while guiding her to the car door Mike held open.
“Yes.” When she laughed Weston did a double take. “Yes, and yes,” she winked.
He too must have been fantasizing about the after-party “event,” when the two of them would be alone. She would relish exploring his skin with her fingertips and enjoy watching how his skin pebbled, his muscles quivered, his sex swelled in reaction to her touch. “Ms. Kramer, Mr. Carver, we need to get a move on if we’re going to make our scheduled arrival time.”
“Sorry, Mike.” She lifted the hem of her dress. “You’re mighty handsome tonight, all in black.”
Mike nodded and Weston helped fold the chiffon in beside her. A few moments later Mike pulled into traffic just as Weston’s phone rang.
“It’s Linda.” Weston pointed to his cell. “Do you mind if I take this?”
“Go ahead.”
His hand cupped around her knee. His thumb stroked the curve of her bone. The motion eased the first hints of reappearing anxiety about the night’s events.
Mike continued his go, stop, honk, go routine, making his way through the busy streets of Manhattan. Weston helped Linda and Haley troubleshoot last-minute details, leaving Courtney to fret over her twelve-minute speech.
Weston continued his fondling while he talked to the team, and his touched calmed her and soothed her nerves.
Who would have guessed a man like Weston Carver would soothe anything in her life?
“Linda, we’ve arrived.” Weston disconnected the call and leaned closer to her ear. “Remember, whatever happens, tonight you are a princess.”
And you are my prince.
She lifted her chin and forced a smile. “Are you going to come in with me?”
He hesitated. “Mike was going to drive me around the block again, but we could go in together. What do you say?”
“I’m not sure how gracefully I can get out of the limo wearing this dress. If I had my own car I might have practiced today, but I sold mine before moving to the city. Having an extra set of hands might prove useful. I have an incredible fear of falling. Oh, my! Look at all the photographers! How do famous people ever handle this?”
“I’ll always be here for you.”
The way his eyes connected with hers said he literally meant always, as in forever. Being with him every day for the rest of her life didn’t scare her. Her heart and mind finally agreed.
Mike opened the door and Weston walked around the car to take her hand while she emerged from the limo. Seconds later flashes from cameras and people shouting Weston’s name made her pull back, but Weston slid a hand around her waist, anchoring her to his side.
“It’s okay. Breathe, smile, and keep walking.”
Linda met them inside the door, clipboard in hand, checking off the event beat sheet to ensure flawless execution. “Weston? I wasn’t expecting you for another twenty minutes.”
“We didn’t prep Courtney for her first experience with the paparazzi gauntlet.”
“That was crazy,” Courtney reached for her pendant, rubbing the smooth stone. “Some of those cameras had lenses as long as my arm, and this guy shouted at Weston asking if we were engaged.” Courtney shook off the irritation. “How do the celebrities make the red carpet seem so easy?”
“Publicity is sometimes a necessary evil, my dear.” Linda patted her cheek. “You look lovely.”
The praise topped off her confidence once again.
“Weston? Weston Carver?” an unfamiliar voice shouted. “My dear lad. How are your father and mother? Still making billions?”
An elderly gentleman shuffled to them with a pronounced limp, his scotch swirling in his hand.
“Nice arm candy,” the man said as he slapped Weston on the back. “What escort service did you rent her from?”
Weston clamped onto her hand to keep her from disappearing. He cleared his throat. “Tom Doherty, I’d like to introduce you to Courtney Kramer. She’s recently been appointed the Director of Empower House and is this year’s keynote speaker.”
“Ah, so that’s what’s going on. I wasn’t sure why the hotel was so busy. I just flew in town for business and leave tomorrow. How do you do, Courtney?” He held out his hand.
The old letch made her name sound erotic and sensual, like she was some kind of porn star. His whole demeanor upped his eww-factor and she decided to stare at his hand rather than shake it. She imagined both hands had been in several inappropriate places during the past hour and wasn’t about to lay an inch of her skin against his. “Mr. Doherty,” she said through a smile and stiff jaw. “Nice to make your acquaintance.” She turned. “Weston, I should review my speech notes. If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.”
“Aww, don’t go. I love being in the company of such pretty faces. What’s your charity? I’ll make a donation.”
Who would be willing to touch your filthy money? She gulped the thought down, because she knew any amount of money, from any source, would be used to help her ladies. “The Empower House.” She added a dash of sweetness to disguise her sour feelings about the man. “There’s a table in front of the conference room where volunteers are waiting to take your contribution.”
“Why don’t you come up to my room later. I’ll double my…er…contribution?”
“You bast—”
Weston tightened his grip around her waist. “What’s your donation going to be, Tom? Ten bucks? I know what a lousy tipper you are. And Courtney is no fool.”
Weston positioned his body between her and Doherty’s, leaning closer to her ear. “Don’t react to this ass. There are cameras everywhere. He’s the senior editing director of an online tabloid and is goading you for a story.”
“So, what’s it going to be, missy? Double or nothing?”
She clenched her purse. “Sorry, I have other plans this evening.”
“Too bad, I would have loved to lick your—”
Without thinking she reached out and slapped his hand so the liquid in his drink splashed against his button-down shirt. The flash of cameras was instant.
Oh, crap!
Mike appeared out of nowhere.
“Get her somewhere safe,” Weston murmured. “I’ll deal with this.” He pointed. “Call Haley. Make sure those photos never hit the press.”
“Got it,” Mike responded as he gripped Courtney's arm. “This way.”
Mike pressed a mic on his lapel and slid an arm around her waist, dragging her down the long corridor. “Haley. SOS. Meet Weston at the north entrance.” When Courtney wasn’t moving fast enough for him, Mike lifted her off her feet with one arm and raced down the hall, shielding her and checking doors as they moved down the carpeted hallway.
Finding an open door, he rushed her inside an empty conference room.
The breadth of the situation unfolded in slow motion, exposing her naiveté. “You need to go back and help Weston. He didn’t want to be connected to Empower House.” She paced farther into the room, then paced back. “I shouldn’t have reacted.”
“No you shouldn’t have,” Mike confirmed. “But Weston can handle the press. It’s something he does very well.”
She crossed her arms to rub off the chill of the moment. “Maybe Mr. Doherty won’t print the story.”
“You’re shitting me, right?” Mike glared in her direction. “Doherty will have Weston on the front page of his rag magazine before tomorrow morning unless a better story comes along before he goes to press.”
She ran her hand down the seams of her dress to catch her breath. “Let’s hope he finds a better story before the night is out.” Courtney took a step toward the door. “This is all my fault. I need to fix it.”
/> “You need to stay here.”
“Like hell I will. This is all my fault.” She reached for the door as Mike grabbed her wrist.
Chapter 23
Weston took the glass from Doherty’s hand and signaled Linda.
Now he had a better understanding of Courtney’s reputation for recklessness. She wasn’t reckless, just terrified of a repeat of her past. He should have protected her.
“Tom, let me pay for another drink and get you a new shirt to wear.” Weston unfolded his pocket square and handed it to Doherty.
“That bitch.” Tom sneered as he watched Courtney and Mike retreat to safety.
“Now, Tom.” Weston forced a chuckle to draw the tabloid editor’s ire. “When’s the last time you had a gorgeous woman toss a drink in your face, huh? I bet it happens all the time.” Weston patted the man’s shoulder. “You should come up with new material. That prostitution bit is stale.”
Tom, guffawed. “You may be right, but it guarantees the gals' reactions.”
Prick. Weston moved aside for Linda and Haley to join the circle. “Tom you remember my assistant. And this is Haley, one of my personal security team. Both ladies will take care of you.”
“My pleasure, ladies,” Tom wiggled his eyebrows again.
This guy never learns. “I should warn you, I wouldn’t try anything with Haley.” Weston whispered. “The last guy who tried something ended up in a hospital with several broken body parts.”
“A real ball-buster, huh?” Tom’s face paled. “I need to change.”
“Would you like me to have your clothes dry cleaned?” Linda volunteered. “I can have them returned to you in less than two hours.”
“No. I’m good.” Tom waddled his way to the bank of elevators.
“What a mess.” Weston covered his mouth with his hand and gripped his jaw. Think. He always had a Plan B, but since Courtney entered his life, his careful planning had been trashed on a regular basis.
Over the past several weeks he’d gone with his gut. The spur-of-the-moment routine had become the norm, and now he was backed into a corner.