My sister moved to Texas after I lost everything that was supposed to keep us stable. That wasn’t completely accurate. I trusted the wrong person, a person who stole our inheritance and tried to take my dignity too.
My gaze narrowed as I studied my own face—my cheekbones, my nose, my lips. When a person hit bottom, they had a choice. Over twenty years ago, I pulled myself off the floor and made the decision that my dignity wasn’t up for sale. I would succeed in life, and I would do so with no regrets.
I wasn’t a dreamer. I was a doer.
The truth was that when I first began this quest, I was miserably ill-prepared to take on the financial giants who I now call by their first names. Thankfully, I was and am a fast learner. I surrounded myself with like-minded people. Those of us who made a name for ourselves—by ourselves—were a rare breed. We weren’t raised with a silver spoon or surrounded by the glitz and glamor of mansions or even the executive suite at The Langham on Fifth Avenue.
No, we hide the metaphoric dirt of our past with expensive manicures and the bruises with designer-named apparel. That didn’t mean that we didn’t remember when those same fingers were bloodied, nails broken, and bruises visible.
We remembered because if we forgot about our climb and our clawing our way to the top, we could become comfortable.
Comfort was a luxury.
Comfort would be living on investments and forgoing the marathon negotiations.
Comfort was earned.
My attention went to the inviting large clawfoot tub. The emails could wait. I’d earned a bath.
Chapter Two
Lena
The tub’s porcelain was smooth and cool beneath my touch. Turning on the glistening faucet, I waited until the water reached the warmth I wanted and added eucalyptus oil to the swirling water. As I poured the second bottle of Johnny into a crystal tumbler, I found my cellphone and made a call to the man in the suite across the hallway.
“Ms. Montgomery,” Adam answered on the second ring.
“Adam, I’m sure you’re settled in and for that, I’m sorry.”
“Not settled. What can I do for you?”
“My dinner is cold. I know I said we were done for the night, but if all I have for dinner is what I can find in the minibar, my head will be throbbing during tomorrow’s eight a.m. meeting.”
Adam scoffed.
I imagined his smile, the way it quirked up on one side and the light blue of his eyes.
There was nothing remotely sexual between Adam and me. He was an employee—mine. He worked for me and had for over seven years. I trusted him with my life.
It was my heart that I kept locked away—from everyone.
That childhood assumption of marriage disappeared the night I was beaten black and blue because stealing my sister’s and my inheritance wasn’t enough for that man. That night, I was prepared to end Logan Butler’s life. Thankfully, a friend, Donovan Sherman, came to my aid, convincing me that there was better revenge than any that would result in incarceration.
That was when I swore off the idea of a home with a white picket fence.
Over my forty-three years, I’d had my share of one-night stands, longer relationships, and friends with benefits. I’d found and given pleasure in the company of both men and women, rarely at the same time, but I couldn’t say never.
My mind went to CJ, the man I’d recently met, reminding me of our one week in paradise. Two ships passing in the night—as the story goes. Yet during our one week, I felt the walls I’d built around my heart, those I thought to be indestructible, begin to crack. We agreed to walk away with no regrets.
I could rebuild.
“Ms. Montgomery.”
Shaking my head, my thoughts returned to Adam. Yes, my bodyguard was attractive, but sleeping with an employee was my hard line—forbidden by my own rule. It was difficult enough to be taken seriously in this world as a woman. I refused to be a notch on someone’s belt, someone who worked for me.
Adam spoke again, “I’d be happy to get you something to eat. I saw that the shop on the first floor had salads. If I hurry, they should still be open.”
The energy from today’s meeting and the whiskey coursing through my veins combined to rekindle a memory of a late night next to a small private pool. The sky above was peppered with stars, and the warm air grew sultrier by the minute. CJ’s turquoise stare was set on mine as he fed me from the box he’d procured.
With a grin, I said, “Pizza. Thin crust, big slice—the kind you have to fold. New York pizza.”
“Shouldn’t you be a Chicago pizza woman?”
I dusted the dirt from Chicago off me a long time ago—the city where my parents died, where I last recalled my sister happy, and where I hit bottom. It was also the city where I began my climb.
“I think you know me better than that,” I said. “I prefer almost anywhere to Chicago.”
“Pizza it is.”
“Thank you, Adam. I’m going to take a bath. Please leave the food in the kitchen, soggy container and all. Oh, and extra napkins.”
“Did you lock the chain lock?”
My gaze fluttered toward the hallway and to the door beyond my suite. “I’ll undo the chain.” Before he could answer, I added, “And you have a key.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. I have a camera set and an alarm if your door opens. I can see all that information from my phone. Hotel security is also working with me.”
“Thank you. I know you have everything covered.” As I disconnected the call, a shiver ran through me, leaving a trail of goose bumps. Adam was the only security detail I’d brought along on this current trip. I could have brought more or hired more in the city. I also had female members of my security who could stay in the suite with me. One, Kelsey, was currently staying in my home. This was a short trip, and I preferred my privacy.
Up until this moment, I hadn’t given the one-man team much thought. My mind had been consumed with computer graphics and virtual environments, and the potential that they held.
Brushing off the uneasy feeling, I walked down the tiled hallway, unlocked the chain, and peered through the peephole. Within the distorted view I saw the back of Adam’s head and his broad shoulders. The suit coat he’d worn all day was gone. When he turned, I noticed his tie too was gone and his collar opened. After securing the door to his suite, my bodyguard disappeared in search of delicious, greasy pizza.
“Stop being paranoid,” I told myself as the scent of eucalyptus reminded me of my filling clawfoot tub. Closing the blinds to the city forty stories below, I turned on every light in the suite.
It wasn’t paranoia if someone was actually out to get you.
Once back in the bathroom, with humidity hanging in the air and coating the large mirrors, I peeled off my blouse and skirt, tossing them onto the floor along with my panties and bra. The water rose as I stepped into the water. My skin quickly pinkened at the warmth. The ends of my auburn hair dampened as I laid my head back against the raised end of the tub. With the oil coating my skin, I inhaled the soothing aroma as the water’s warmth and a drink from my tumbler chased away the earlier chill.
It wasn’t unusual for a person with my wealth and high-profile life to employ security. While I kicked ass in the world of finance, my self-defense skills were limited. I’d been coached and had practiced over the years. In a gym with an instructor, I knew what to do. Nevertheless, I was a five-foot, six-inch woman weighing a hundred and thirty pounds—according to my driver’s license. Reality was an extra ten pounds.