by Tania Joyce
She regretted sleeping with Hunter.
She would never get over losing Ryan
She hated herself for falling in love with a rock star.
A rock star who was never her boyfriend.
And would never be.
How could she be so in love with someone who’d never been hers to begin with?
She blinked her stinging eyes, and every muscle in her jaw ached. Hunter’s kiss still burned in her brain. The one he’d planted so hard against her mouth before she left Rio. The taste of him was branded onto her lips. For one moment, she thought he’d beg her to stay. That he’d tell her he loved her. She’d wanted him to run down that hotel hallway after her, stop her leaving the lobby or, even more gallantly, stop the plane from leaving the airport gate like in some Hollywood movie. But her life was no fairytale.
Since leaving Rio, he’d sent one text.
Hope you got home okay.
She didn’t bother to reply. She needed to cut him off.
Hunter was right to not come after her. She wasn’t girlfriend material. Why would anyone want to be with her? The ultimate goal of finding a partner was to get married and have a family. And that was the one thing she could no longer give. Her operation had left her barren. Her broken heart had left her cynical.
Her only logical conclusion . . . love sucked.
She knocked back her glass of champagne and refilled it with the bottle from the ice bucket. Impatient, she scrolled through her cell phone messages. She froze at the Google alert for Conrad’s Fashion House.
Conrad Hesterfield announces engagement to Jasmine Milne.
What? Her heart hit the ground. With a shaky tap of her fingernail, she opened the link.
After a short, scandalous, and steamy courtship, one of New York’s most eligible bachelors, thirty-five-year-old Conrad Hesterfield, heir and head designer at the elite Conrad Fashion House, is to wed Jasmine Milne, a young innovative designer, aged nineteen, in the fall. Jasmine will debut her first line of couture at New York Fashion Week in September alongside Conrad’s own collection.
Kara swiped the screen closed and threw her cell phone onto the table. Well that’s great! In less than twelve months, Jasmine had won Conrad over, got her own line, and got a ring on her finger.
Everyone was moving on with their lives while hers had been stripped bare and dealt another blow. She didn’t care that Conrad was marrying Jasmine. She cared about her job. With Jasmine progressing with her own line, were Kara’s prospects of advancement in the company in jeopardy? The possibility of heading up one of the design teams looked further out of reach. She loved working in product development for the ready-to-wear collections, but turning out T-shirts, tops, jeans, and jackets hadn’t grabbed hold of her passion like haute couture had. Even her desire for that had fizzled out.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her mother and father walking toward her. With fake smiles plastered on their faces, they waved like royals, saying hellos to the people they passed. Kara wasn’t sure she could stomach brunch with them, but it was an excuse to stop staring at the four walls of her apartment.
Her mother patted Kara on the shoulder. “Sit up straight, dear.” She glided around to the opposite side of the table and sat next to Kara’s father. “Sit like a lady, not a beast.”
Kara edged back on her seat, but her shoulders felt too heavy to straighten. “Good game?” she asked out of politeness rather than interest.
Before her mom could speak, her dad cut in. “Scored three over par. Excellent round. Your mother, on the other hand, not so good. Lost three balls into the water.”
“At least we beat Bart and Florence.” Her mother shrugged one shoulder, her smile simmered with satisfaction. Then she glanced at Kara. Her expression changed to one of disapproval. “Why aren’t you wearing the dress I had sent to you from Saks yesterday? You look like you’re ready for the beach, not brunch. I’m amazed the club let you in.”
Kara ran her hands over her blue and red maxi dress. “What I’m wearing is fine. The dress you bought me is too small. My figure has changed after being pregnant.” At the base of her belly she had a little protruding bulge, and her hips were a fraction wider. If anything, the aftermath of carrying Ryan finally gave her some curves. She was no longer as straight as Park Avenue.
“Shh. Keep your voice down.” Her father’s gaze darted around the tables nearby.
“What, Daddy?” Kara tilted her head. “Still ashamed I got knocked up by Hunter?” Just mentioning Hunter’s name churned her stomach more than the stench of the salmon, the pancakes, and the eggs coming from the next table. “God … you must be so relieved that I lost Ryan.”
Her father’s eyes burned into hers. She’d hit the mark. He hadn’t invited her out to the country club since he’d found out she was pregnant. What used to be a monthly occurrence was erased from her calendar. Her having a baby outside of marriage wasn’t something he wanted to rave to his friends about. Didn’t put her on her father’s I’m-so-proud-of-you list. Not that she ever made it. Well . . . he could be happy now. Ryan was gone. And so was Hunter.
“Don’t say things like that.” Hurt flickered through his eyes, but Kara ignored him and sipped her champagne. She didn’t care. Nothing could affect her anymore. Her dad leaned in. “I’m devastated you lost your child. Our grandchild. But I’m pleased to see you have come to your senses.”
They were interrupted by the waiter who poured her parents’ coffee, refilled her champagne flute and took their food orders, but her father’s eyes never left hers.
Once the waiter left, he lowered his voice. “Going away with that band was only going to lead to more trouble. From now on, I want you to stay away from that crowd.”
Her knuckles turned white around the stem of her glass. “That crowd are my friends.”
Blotches of red broke out on her father’s neck. “Well, it’s time to find new ones. You’re a good girl. You shouldn’t be hanging around people like that. That kind of crazy, messed up, unstable lifestyle is not for my little girl.”
Every word dripping out of her father’s mouth bristled her spine. Stung the back of her eyes. Her friends did live a mad life, but they treasured and respected every moment of it. It was tough being in the limelight and after knowing them for years, she’d grown close to them. She loved being part of the inner circle of people they trusted. That was why she enjoyed hanging out with them. They were grounded, worked hard, and took nothing for granted. Not like here at the club where everything was fake—from the smiles to the cosmetic enhancements.
Her dad stroked his short beard, one side, then the other. “I’m sorry, but Hunter was nothing but a bad influence on you. He never cared for you. That type of person has no morals or values. After everything that’s happened, I’ll do my best to make sure he doesn’t come near you ever again.”
Staring into the depths of her glass, her vision blurred. Hunter did care. His passion, his loyalty, and his caring soul were greater than that of most other people she’d ever met. He did like her . . . he just didn’t love her. Her stupid heart had led her astray.
She sniffled and brushed a tear from her cheek. “You’re wrong about him. Wrong about my friends.” She hated that her father was so quick to judge. God, she’d been like that too. But Hunter had changed her. She’d learned to look beyond first impressions, the arrogance, the shields and the masks people wore. She’d been the one who was arrogant and naïve. Not anymore. “But you’re right. I do need to move on.”
How? She didn’t know.
“That’s my girl.” Her dad took a mouthful of coffee. “Your mother and I have talked. We’ve put up with your . . . how shall I put it . . . rebellious ways for long enough.”
Scolding heat crept into Kara’s cheeks. She went to object, but her father silenced her with a wave of his hand.
“It’s time to put the past behind you. You’re a young lady now. You need a good career and a solid foundation for your future. We
want you to come and work in the family business. We’ll pay for your studies, get you licensed to trade, give you on-the-job training. Naomi will help you. Put this fickle fashion dream of yours to rest.”
Kara gritted her teeth. “I don’t want to work on Wall Street.”
Her dad’s eyes narrowed into slits as thin as a poker machine’s. “Yes. It’s time.”
Nausea pooled in her stomach. This was her dad’s dream. Not hers. And it never would be.
The waiter placed their smoked salmon omelets in front of them and rushed off to serve another table. She picked up her fork and pushed a piece of the eggy dish around the plate. Her appetite disappeared as did her listening while her father rattled on. “We can fast track your studies . . . ”
She zoned out and gazed at a golfer teeing off in front of the terrace. He swung. The metal tink of the ball struck her chest. As the ball sliced through the air, sailed off into the distance, it was as if the last thread that was holding her life together snapped. Disappeared. Vanished into nothingness. Gone.
She had nothing left.
Her career was at a dead end. She had no baby . . . no boyfriend.
Her cell phone vibrated on the table.
Her father’s eyes flashed red.
“It’s Nae.” Kara read the Caller ID. Her sister only rang when it was urgent, or she wanted something.
Her mother hovered her coffee a few inches from her mouth. “Oh, she has some exciting news.”
“Please, take the call.” Her dad flicked his hand at Kara. “Maybe she can talk some sense into you.”
Kara walked over to the edge of the terrace. “Hi Nae, what’s up?”
“Are you at the club with Mom and Dad? Have they told you the news?” There was a nervous shake to Naomi’s voice.
“News? No. What news?” God, please don’t be pregnant. Don’t rub it in my face.
“Dad made me vice president. He says I’m ready.”
Kara closed her eyes. Daddy’s angel reaches new heights. “That’s . . . wonderful news. Congratulations.” But she couldn’t muster up any excitement. “It’s earlier than expected, but that’s awesome, right?”
“Yes and no.” Naomi’s voice flatlined. “I’ve worked my ass off for this role. Born and bred for it. I’ll be one of the youngest vice presidents on Wall Street. I love my job, but . . . I had no other option. I’m so envious of you. You can do whatever you want, whereas I’ll be tied to this company forever.”
“What?” Naomi? Envious? Since when? “If you don’t like it, leave.”
“God no. Work is my life. It’s in my blood.” Naomi’s voice softened. “But Anthony and I are bordering on divorce because we never see each other. My daughter is two years’ old, and Daddy reads her stock market reports. He’s prepping her for the business already. I don’t want that. She will always be able to make her own career choices and never be obligated to work for the family.” She paused. “Same goes for you, Kar. Don’t come and work here if you don’t want to. I’ve always admired you for following your dreams and your heart. You’re so strong. Don’t let Daddy get to you.”
Kara’s head spun. Naomi? Admired her? She’d gone mad. “I won’t.”
“Kar, I’m terrified to take on this role. Being responsible for hundreds of employees, profitability and growth. I don’t think I’m good enough.”
Naomi was queen of confidence; how could she doubt herself? “Nae, you’re brilliant at what you do. I’m proud of you. Knock ’em dead. Just don’t become an ass like our father. Everyone loves you. Like I do.”
“Thanks, Kar. You’re the best. Dad wants to send out a press release, but I wanted to let you know before he gloats across Manhattan.”
Kara humphed. She knew her father. This chest-pounding boast would go global.
Naomi sighed. “Promise me one thing, Kar. Stay true to yourself. It’s what I love about you most.”
“Um . . . thanks.”
“Let’s catch up for a drink soon, okay?”
“Sure.”
Kara ended the call. Wow! For so long Kara had been envious of Naomi—her marriage, her daughter, her home, their father’s favoritism, but she never knew Naomi felt like she had no choice. That she suffered from self-doubt. Like she did. Someone who she thought had the perfect life hid behind a skyscraper of masks. Was nothing real anymore? Was no one ever honest about their feelings? Their life? Their problems?
Kara had done that for too long. With Conrad. With her feelings for Hunter. She’d wouldn’t let her mistakes hold her back. Not anymore.
She strolled back to her parents.
“Naomi tell you the news?” Her dad’s voice boomed with pride.
Kara nodded, still in shock.
Her dad continued. “With Naomi stepping up to vice, it’s perfect timing for you to come into the organization. I want my two girls to present a strong and united front.”
Kara glanced around the clubhouse terrace with all its finery—the white walls, steep roof, and manicured gardens, the diners eating their Sunday brunch. She could imagine the people’s conversations, the ladies talking about their latest shopping expeditions, new cosmetic enhancements, the trending gossip, and bragging about their children. The men wouldn’t be much better, talking about politics, investments, stocks, clients, business deals, and their love of all things sport.
A pretentious world. Superficial and shallow. This was not her life anymore. She didn’t know where she belonged. Maybe it was time to look for a new job in another fashion house, but until she ignited her love of design again, now wasn’t the best time. She knew only one thing for sure: she wouldn’t, under any circumstance, work in her family’s business. She’d sooner prick herself with a million pins than sit behind a desk, trading stocks, bonds, futures, and options. While she wasn’t jumping for joy at returning to work at Conrad’s, anything, anything, anything would be better than working for her father.
“Dad, stop.” She pushed her untouched plate of food away. “Wall Street is not an option.”
She ignored the disappointment clouding her parents’ eyes. There were some things she’d never compromise: her love of fashion being one. It was in her blood and it would never die. Her fire for it just needed to be washed, wrung out, and reworked into something new.
Until it became clear in her mind what she wanted to do, she’d go back to Conrad’s. Do her job. Work until her fingers bled if she had to. Drown herself in office tasks so she wouldn’t have to think about anything or anyone else. Not Ryan. Not her parents. And least of all . . . Hunter.
After Conrad broke up with her, she’d been adamant she would get through her operation and find a new man. Now, after Hunter, she wanted no one. Her life was in total upheaval.
When everything was gone, what was left? Drink? Hard liquor sounded good.
“I’m not hungry. I’ll be at the bar.” Before they could object, she stood and headed inside. Taking a seat on one of the black metal stools, she placed her purse beside her.
“Hey Kar, haven’t seen you in months. How’re you doing?” Felix, the bartender, asked as he polished a wine glass with a linen cloth. “What can I get you?”
“Jack Daniels. On ice. Make it a double.”
Whiskey would give her courage a kick and her confidence a boost. Help her stop mulling over everything she’d lost. Stop her thinking about Hunter, wondering where he was, who he was with, and how much she missed him. At the sight of the JD bottle, the amber liquid being splashed into the glass and the seductive aroma filling her head, he blazed to life in her mind.
Okay. Maybe JD wasn’t the best choice.
One of Everhide’s older singles “Miss You” wafted through the sound system, and Kara let out a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me laugh. Hunter taunted her everywhere she went.
Kyle’s, Gemma’s, and Hunter’s voices trickled through the speakers.
My friends keep telling me,
That you’re doing better.
But for me walking the str
eets alone,
It’s nothing but cloudy weather.
All I do is think about you,
Wondering where did I go wrong?
Was there something I didn’t say?
Because I loved you all along.
She pictured Hunter closing his eyes as he sang. Mic in hand. Perfect lips pressed against the metal. Veins in his neck straining as he hit the notes.
Didn’t I love you the right way?
Didn’t I tell you that enough?
Wasn’t I the one for you?
I thought that we were in love.
When I close my eyes at night,
I can feel you in my arms.
I miss the taste of your kisses,
And the beating of your heart.
Knowing that once I could call you all mine,
Now I can’t believe that you’re gone.
Tell me, tell me, tell me,
Where did I go wrong?
When I see you out at night,
It breaks my heart apart.
Every day I miss you, babe,
No, nothing at all feels right.
Tell me how I’m supposed to get over this?
How am I to move on?
When all I do is miss you,
Miss you more and more.
Kara shot back the whiskey and slammed the glass onto the counter.
To hell with you, Hunter.
There was no going backward. She clutched the crystal tumbler of whiskey until her knuckles ached. No more analyzing and critiquing every touch, every look, and every moment she’d spent with Hunter. She meant nothing to him. It was time for him to mean nothing to her. A steely resilience took hold of her. She’d outgrown being told what to do by her parents. Survived trauma and heartbreak. It was time to rebuild herself. She’d go back to her foundations. At Conrad’s she’d find her strength and her passion again. At work, she could forget about Hunter, her love for him, and move on.