Damien's POV
I am seated across a former high school classmate, Glenn, in a booth nearest to one of the expansive floor to ceiling windows in the grill bar a few blocks away from the hotel, where I can watch Miami hustle and bustle. Maybe it's not the finest place to close a deal, but I slam the enveloped documents down on the wooden tabletop regardless and slide them towards Glenn.
The new property owner - or rather, his heir - divests the papers of their covering for his own perusal. He looks as pleased as I always am at the culmination of every deal. More deals mean more bucks afterall.
" Now the paperwork is complete," I offer a hand. " Congratulations, to you and Mr Sanders."
Amusement creases his features as he clasps my outstretched hand firmly. The billionaire banking magnate, Mr Sanders, had just acquired a beachfront holiday home, and it's no secret who actually owns the million dollar structure.
"Thank you, Mr. Realtor," he muses.
"Anytime."
A waitress arrives with our orders; cabernet accompanied with wine glasses and plates of barbeque pork chops with green peas, and slices of lemon by the side. I smile inwardly at the addition, and eyeball Glenn as he watches the waitress sway her Scarlett Johansson hips to the counter. I see he hasn't changed, I observe. Glenn Sanders still cannot resist the womenfolk.
" You must have plans," I pick up my fork. " With a house that big." I tease.
He mirrors my actions, peering at me innocently as he cuts out a piece of meat and guides it to his mouth. " Plans?"
" Or you don't want to end up like Wade?" Like me, Glenn is also one of Wade's groomsmen. I spear some pork chops and bite them off my fork, chewing the succulent, tasty pieces of pork chops that reminds me of Mom's cooking.
He takes a swig from his wineglass. " There's no one. Yet." He grins. " You have someone?"
I think of Lisa, and the impatience with which she snatched Willow from me. Like I was Rumpelstiltskin, and she needed to keep the promised royal baby away from me. I didn't get to have a talk with her like I intended. That day, when our kiss was cut short by Keith's insistent banging on my door. He marched in agitated, hair wild, and demanded Lisa, despite the terror in her eyes, to follow him home. Keith was eerily silent about it in the days that followed. Lisa grew more frigid than ice cubes, and distanced herself from me. Before that night, our relationship had consisted of just hanging out and enjoying each other's company. I wanted to know if I ruined it. If that night was just a casual dalliance to her. But for Keith's sake, and Lisa's too, I kept away.
But now Keith is no more, and I definitely don't intend to keep my distance. Her presence in Miami, and her being just a door away from my suite is a golden opportunity dropped into my laps.
" Ah. I didn't know it's that serious."
My attention snaps back to him. " I wish."
" Oh come on." His eyes are gleaming with mischief. "You can tell me anything, you know. Anything." I am tempted to try out some of my kickboxing moves on him.
By the time Glenn leaves the booth, I am still polishing off pork chops. I whip out my phone, and contemplate texting Lisa when two figures appear before me, one of them bearing Dad's silver hair and hard green eyes. I nearly spit my food out in shock.
" To whom do we owe this honor, Dad?"
Even at sixty five, Demetrius Reed is built like a fit veteran boxer, with an impressive height, wide shoulders, and the absence of a paunch. He grimaces at the sight of Glenn's soiled plates. " I'm not here for the pleasure of seeing your face."
The waitress scurries over, the same one from moments ago, and clears what used to be Glenn's side of the table. Dad settles in opposite me, alongside a man I recognize as Keith's colleague, Curtis. Both stare grimly at me like they caught me with my hand in the cookie jar.
I bite the last of the meat, and gulp down some cabernet. Dabbing at my mouth with a napkin, I return the gaze.
" How did you find me? Last time I spoke with Mum, she mentioned a trip to Washington."
" I happened to know which hotel you were heading to." Dad adjusts his glasses. Dressed in a painstakingly tailored wool and silk suit that likely equals a first-class ticket to London, with an Egyptian cotton white shirt and Armani tie, he looks like he should be on a red carpet instead.
" So, what's new?" Anything capable of compelling Dad to pay me a visit personally promises to be intense.
" We'll cut to the chase. A few of Keith's possessions have disappeared from his abode."
I pause, even more astonished than I was because of Dad's sudden presence. I look at Curtis, who delivered the news in Dad's stead. " What?"
" His Cadillac, clothes, a painting." Dad continues. " I discovered this when I decided to carry out a fumigation on the house. And surprisingly, Lisa's belongings remain intact. Expensive jewelry, bags, perfume. Even the furniture remains." He heaves an exasperated sigh. " This is no work of an ordinary burglar."
I sit still, as the details gradually sink in. A targeted robbery at a dead man?
I feel the weight of Dad's scrutiny on me. Maybe it's just a figment of my imagination, because I don't want to believe it, but there's a hint of suspicion in his eyes. "You suggest I have a hand in this?" Fury tightens my chest. I might be the least favorite one, but that's not a qualification for theft.
" I don't believe that." He replies. " But you're not immune to questioning either. And I'd rather do it myself."
I am unable to stop the relief that flowed through me. " I wouldn't know what happened. Perhaps someone he knows?" I surmise.
" What about his widow?" Curtis inquires. " We should question her too."
" Lisa's no suspect," I blurt my disagreement. My response earns me odd glances from the suited men. " I mean, she can't take a Cadillac with her on a flight to Miami. And what in the world would she be doing with his clothes?"
" She could've sold the car…"
" I have the car keys with me, Curtis." For once I'm grateful for Dad's intervention, although I understand it was born out of his soft spot for Lisa. " The car was hotwired."
" I met her today at the hotel. You shouldn't intrude on her grief."
Curtis leans back in his seat. And I'm once again under Dad's scrutiny. He says nothing, though his eyes holds a message for me, a warning. No entanglements with my brother's widow. I go on regardless. "We shouldn't bore her with this discussion either. The poor woman just lost her husband."
Dad silently stares at me, though he doesn't object. With nothing more to say to me, Dad rises from his seat. " I'll have the police open an investigation. Expect more news, Damien."
I almost wait for a loving pat on my back. But the pang in my heart has already dulled with resignation to the truth. I can't ever get back in his good graces.
Curtis, before he exits the booth, halts in his steps, and tips his head towards me, tone lowered conspiratorially. " I knew Keith, and I know he must have pissed off scores of people. I just want him to rest in peace. Stop trying to protect Mrs. Reed, and bring her out for questioning."
"Hey you..."
And he is gone, leaving me to ponder on the reason for those words.
Lisa's POV" Hey there, Princess of Oakenville." I am always unsure of how to react to the mention of my supposed title. Yet I allow my lips a curve, because it's Emilie Forger whose face fills the screen of my laptop. There's no malice behind her words, as the title is usually called with spite or awe. There is only childish mischief twinkling in her coffee brown eyes. " Hi Em," I clasp on silver earrings. " How are you? And how's Duke's Table?" " Is this the part where I reel off the terrific performances of your food haven? I guess so. Your other baby's fine." I shoot the woman in whose capable hands I left my restaurant a look of mock reproach. " You are smokin' hot," she drawls. " What's the occasion?" I glance down at my bodycon black dress with its long sheer sleeves encrusted sparingly with tiny rhinestones. A silver button is fastened at my neck, but a triangle is cut out for a generous view of my cleavage. I
Damien's POV" Ahh! Shucks!" Jeremy hurls down a surfboard like a five year old throwing a hissy fit. "I hoped for bodacious, big ass waves!" " Bodacious babes, you mean," Glenn amends with a wink, brushing back the sooty black locks that spilled onto his forehead with dramatic flair. He once, probably always, fancied himself an actor. A feat he would have achieved with his movie star looks, if not for the interference of his banking magnate father. " Miami technically isn't known for its surfing." Matt deadpans from the driver's seat of the red convertible. " Most of the year, it's as flat as a lake." " Not pleasing." Glenn remarks. " But there could be lucky epic days, right?" I sigh, reaching into the car for a bottle of water. Who knew reunion with former classmates that also happened to be Wade's groomsmen at a beach park was enough to give me a headache? " Toss me a bottle, will you, Mate?" Glenn pleads with a smi
Lisa's POVWade took everyone to a sand volleyball court apart from the rest of the beach. A grove of lush palm trees are outlined against the azure of the sky, ruffled slightly by the salty ocean breeze. Sun rays peek through the leaves to dance around in patterns on the sugar white sands I wish I can taste. My first impulse is to flop down on these cushion-y grounds and snooze my way through the game. Especially when… " Hey," I lean in to whisper to Yvette. " I have not even the teeniest idea how to play…" " I know right. Me too," Yvette concedes, fiddling with a halterneck strap of her one piece peacock blue swimsuit. " I never had a chance to try out for the volleyball team back in school. This is all Selena's idea afterall. It wasn't initially part of the bachelorette week." A sigh slips past my lips. I know just how whimsical my aunt can be. " Girls." Selena stops in her tracks and suddenly wheels on us, balled fists stuck on her hips.
Damien's POVMost of the ride was spent silent, and with Lisa huddled in the passenger's seat, an ice pack pressed to the ugly bump beside her right eye, a loose fitting tee I found amongst her possessions hiding most of her delectable body from view. I am not used to fearing for another, or being especially terrified for Lisa either. She had always been to me an unattainable goddess that belonged to my brother, only to be glimpsed at at rare moments, and to be venerated at those times. But watching her tumble heavily onto her side made my own heart lurch just as painfully, in a way I have never experienced before. Made me realize that this goddess is just as human, as fragile. And left in me a fierce urge to shield her from any form of harm. At least for my brother's sake. Liar liar pants on fire. A voice jeers in my head. You want her, that's why. You desire her. We manage to get past curious gawkers to Lisa's door, where I swipe the key card Lisa f
Lisa's POVI am sitting in a coffee shop, and not just because I craved a steaming brew. The wood paneled, earth-toned shop offers a space for breakfast outside the hotel room, a chance to eat amongst the bustle of life, amongst the laid-back vibes of the city. Maybe I just want to revel in the anonymity of being one in a convention of people lazing around to nurse coffee mugs. Maybe I don't want to glance at my bed and replay for the hundredth time how things heated up in there. Willow is hoisted on my laps, chomping happily on a piece of croissant, and I push my mug farther away from her reach. Selena probably wrote off some 'me' time for herself on the bachelorette week schedule, so Willow won't need to go to the daycare center. " This kiddo really enjoys it there. I met her new friends," Said Damien when he returned with my child. The air between us sizzled with electric tension, and I hadn't even worried like I used to if my daughter would grow accustomed t
Lisa's POVOur castle was one of the grandest homes to ever exist in Oakenville. With soaring columns, graceful bay windows and expansive entrance, the brick architecture sat like a well dressed man amidst clusters of magnolia and dogwood, and a stretch of lawns, never failing to impress anyone that happened to set their eyes on it. A house befitting a prince and his bride. A wedding gift Demetrius said he had been preparing for years for Keith's future family. Four days after our wedding, I thought it a considerate move to take blueberry muffins fresh from the oven, and a glass of milk up Keith's study. He'd been holed up in there for almost half the day, because he had a client to defend the next day. Our trip to the Maldives had to be rescheduled. I pushed the heavy door open carefully with my hip. " Hey, Attorney." Keith swivelled in his leather padded chair and studied me through rimless Richard Gere glasses. Golden hair shone in the sunlight that
Damien's POVI flop around on the loveseat in the hotel suite, trying to get comfortable. Taking a shower right after hitting the gym usually meant sprawling in a heap of arms and legs for a much needed nap, or just chilling in my downtime. But I'm so damn restless I can't help it. I flip through TV channels and stop at CNN, a blue eyed reporter chattering on about the Duchess of Sussex, I half-listen, because those eyes remind me of Lisa, and I wonder what she'd be up to by now. There's a frantic knock at the door, and I wait a heartbeat before striding over. It can't be room service, can it? " It's me, Damien." Lisa's voice sounds from behind the door. " Milady, what could possibly…" The joke dies in my throat, the dead weight dropping to the bottom of my stomach when I see her glum expression. Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears. My gaze shifts to Willow, perched on Lisa's arm with a solemn look on her face. " Could you let m
Lisa's POVDammit. What do I mean bodyguard? I just didn't ask Damien to be my bodyguard, did I? It was more of any intimate cuddle before I fell asleep on his sinfully comfy bed, but I didn't need to open my eyes this morning to know it graduated to a snug, tight spooning. Legs tangled together. My ass against his crotch. Recollections of our conversation flowed into my head, and I had to pinch my lips shut to keep myself for groaning aloud and waking Damien. I so desperately wanted to witness Selena get married, so much that I came up with the most embarrassingly rom-com worthy idea ever. So Damien won't have to worry about me. So I won't let the ghost of my husband make me cower under my blankets and not attend the wedding. You're a flower I'll give anything to keep in my greenhouse. How cheesy. But the words licked through me like slow fire, leaving me all warm and fuzzy inside. Apparently soaking in mineral waters at the wellness center did nothing to soothe