I checked my watch for what seemed like the 10th time since I arrived home, my home not the one I shared with Lurane. I got a stucco/ remodeled farmhouse on the West End as soon as I got into my inheritance. It was the first thing I got for myself before making my claim as the son of Simone Pierce. But after the contract, Douglas had gotten a house for Lurane and me under her name. The address I gave Chantelle was for this apartment. My heartbeat quickened at the thought of her.Last night was incredible, I never wanted it to end. It took all my willpower not to convince her to stay the night. I had suggested it but in her own words “I have something you need to know.”What could it be?The minibar in the living area was well stocked. My housekeeper, a middle-aged highly efficient woman called Betty who worked for both me and mom had cleaned the place and restocked the house with both food and wine. With any luck, I can convince Chantelle to stay the night and nights after this.The s

I woke up the next morning to the sound of an anime theme echoing loudly from downstairs. For a second I thought I was back home with Sophie singing along with the TV while either cooking breakfast for Nolen or chowing down a huge bowl of cereal until I felt the unfamiliar sheets of the bed and noticed the unfamiliar curtains, walls and artwork hanging on it.Then last night came to me. The abduction…Nolan…Lurane…the truth…the resolution. Nolan still wanted me after everything that happened – and he wants his son too. It was enough to send my heart fluttering wildly in my chest and warmth diffusing through my veins. My wrists still burned with slight throbbing pain from the ropes that had been used to restrain me digging into my flesh although the headache from yesterday was gone. I only hope Nolen doesn’t bruise on his wrists and ankles. The need to see him made me rise.Pushing the extremely soft blanket aside I set my feet on the cold floor, slid them into equally soft bedroom slip

For the next few weeks, Nolan and Fiona worked on the intricate design to make the hotel one of a kind.On my part, with Nolan’s pleading and persuasion, I moved in with him. I had been worried about leaving Sophie alone. My one true friend needed me no matter how much she tried to deny it but she practically moved my things herself into Nolan’s remodeled farmhouse. Nolen was more than pleased to finally move in with his daddy and he told everyone who cared to listen that he had a daddy. Nolan on the other hand jumped naturally into playing daddy. When he wasn’t watching tons of shonen animes with Nolen, they were plotting reenacting scenes from their favorite shows or Nolan was helping with Nolen’s assignment or taking him out for walks or tucking him into bed. Slowly but surely Nolen was adjusting to life with a mommy and daddy. I was afraid it would be difficult for him to adjust but turns out I was just afraid of sharing my baby.On the other hand, somehow the media vultures caugh

Noel Greer’s office was a citadel of wealth. Everything from the lobby to the interiors I could gleam of the open cubicles spoke of old great wealth. Workers moved at high speed responding to calls, and moving boxes and papers from printers to offices. The linoleum floors were cleaned to a shine, echoing mine and Penny’s clicking heels. The top floor held Noel’s office. The frosted double doors had brass knobs. Penelope put her hands on the knobs and took a deep breath. “Are you okay?” I asked. She looked nervous. Really uncharacteristic of her. Her hands trembled. She looked up. For the first time, Penny’s eyes weren’t cold and lifeless, they were filled with sadness and something akin to longing. She smiled softly. “I’m fine. Unpleasant memories but nothing a bottle of wine can’t cure later.” With that, she pushed the door open to reveal the expansive expensively furnished office. As big as the office was the furnishing was simple. Huge computer screens displaying stock reports f

The building in which the space for our business was located, I don’t think I’ve talked much about it, it was beautiful. It was in a complex on the block of one of the most bustling places with beauty shops and everything in between. There was a quaint little traditional coffee shop with a very friendly owner, apparently, she was the widow of a famous popstar and an ex-model, she reminded me of Iman who was the wife of David Bowie, who surprisingly was a popstar too before he died. She had come around the moment Yolanda and I hung up our shingles to advise us on what was trendy, what decors to put up, and all that. She was a really sweet woman. As was the man who owned the pastry shop. He was a sweet Italian, Lorenzo, who had brought us a box of donuts to welcome us. Everyone was friendly. The only shop not taken was the one above us which was nice because the former occupants had been a records-owner couple. Nolan had insisted on dropping Nolen off at school today. It’s not like I ha