Her Passion

Ori Herd was in the habit of giving nicknames to the customers who came regularly to her little bookstore in the heart of Seattle’s Pike Place. The names came from either her first impression of them, the books they pored over or, sometimes, the imaginary alternate lives Ori made up for them to amuse herself.

Like the woman with the plain clothes and nervous demeanor was The Dominatrix, who spent her time in the store reading erotica that would make a stripper blush; the teenager with tattoos and a potty mouth was Bound for Priesthood; the old man who loved history books, and who adored Ori, was Wish You Were My Dad. Ori would work silently beside these readers, knowing exactly where to point them for their next read, bringing them coffee from her little espresso machine.

The bookstore had been her passion, her haven, her place of business ever since she’d walked away from the career that had paid for it all. Astoria Vine had been the biggest rock star on the planet when she’d suddenly, abruptly, disappeared from public life. With her bleached blond mane, violet eyes, and perfect face, Astoria had been the envy of millions…but the woman underneath, the twenty-four year old ex-classical music graduate, had hated the business, the sycophants, the endless parties to which she was expected to attend, the sexism, the presumption that she would sleep with any of the revolting head honchos just to get ahead, the drugs that people tried to force on her. Ori had endured it for five years until, one night after a sold-out gig at Madison Square Garden, she’d found herself sobbing on the top of a New York skyscraper, wondering if it would be easier to just jump. It was only the thought of her younger sister, her beloved Yasmin, that kept her from falling. Then and there, she packed a suitcase and checked out of the hotel and moved across the country to the place she felt she could escape. Seattle.

Now, three years on, and having reverted back to her natural dark brown hair and ditched the contact lenses in favor of spectacles to hide those violet eyes, Ori had at last found where she belonged. Yasmin, now nineteen and tall as a willow, was in college in the city and they lived in a simple apartment out in Queen Anne with their beloved rescue dachshunds, Hamish, and Flea.

If her customers ever recognized her, they didn’t say a word. With her long dark hair piled up on the top of her head, her uniform of jeans, tee and sneakers and a face free of makeup, Ori looked so far removed from that painted and polished rock star as she ever could. She supplemented their income by giving piano lessons, sometimes in the shop, at the old piano she’d gotten from a yard sale. Hamish and Flea guarded the shop dutifully – when they weren’t curled up asleep on one of the sofas with reading customers.

Today, as Ori opened delivery boxes packed with new books, she heard the jingle of the door and heard the skitter of tiny paws on the wooden floors; the dogs greeting of their favorite customers. One of Ori’s favorites.

“Hey, little buddies.”

Ori felt her stomach quiver at the warm voice. She swallowed before looking up, mentally preparing herself for the effect this particular customer always had. She looked up into his green eyes, so familiar now. Yasmin had nicknamed him ‘Come to Mama’, but Ori just called him The Delicious Dude. He’d been coming in for the last few weeks, always very friendly, always making Ori feel like she was the only person in the world. He was tall, his hair almost black and cropped short around a face Michelangelo would have been proud of. It was just his grin which stopped him from being too classically honed – a wide mouth cheeky, a boyish grin which took over his whole face and was impossible to resist.

Ori had been impressed with his reading choices too: Murakami, Auster, Bradbury. They’d bonded over a shared hatred of Animal Farm and a fascination with The Secret History. He’d come in for the first time as she was dealing with a rare difficult customer, a scraggly blonde who was complaining about the bonk-buster she’d bought not having quite enough ‘bonk’ in it.

“I thought it would be about a guy who’s a stud who gets all the ladies. Instead, it’s this weird creepy dude that pretends he’s this other man.”

She handed a bag to Ori, who pulled out a copy of The Talented Mr. Ripley. She glanced up to see if the woman was kidding and met the clear green amused eyes of The Delicious Dude. A look passed between them and Ori had to struggle not to bust up then and there. Instead, with a nod to him, she bore the woman off to get something more appropriate.

When she returned, T.D.D. was grinning at her. “A happy customer?”

Ori smiled back at him, noticing that his dark hair curled around his ears in a way that made her want to run her fingers through it. “Let’s just say I found her something a little less stabby.”

Since that day, he’d been in every afternoon, three-thirty regular as clockwork, so much so, Ori would glance at the clock automatically ten minutes before and switch the coffee machine on.

Now, as he fussed over Hamish and Flea, she smiled fondly at the dogs and at him. “Coffee?”

He stood up and smiled. “On one condition. You’re always so busy – sit with me and have a break.”

Ori, her face flushing, looked around at the pile of boxes she had yet to deal with and made a doubtful face at him. He touched her arm gently, leaving her skin burning.

“What if I promise to help you with that lot, afterward?’

She considered. ‘Okay, deal. But first…”

“What?”

“You have to tell me your name.”

He laughed and stuck his hand out. “Milo Shaw.” His huge hand closed over hers and held it a beat too long.

“Ori Herd.” She reluctantly pulled her hand away and went behind the counter to pour their coffee. She brought it over to the couch he had commandeered and curled her legs up under her. He was playing with the two dogs, who crawled all over him, trying to lick his face. Lucky dogs, Ori thought, then pushed the thought hurriedly away, worried he could see the naked lust on her face. She felt tiny next to him, his long denim-clad legs stretched out for miles, his broad frame taking up half the couch. Ori rescued him from Hamish, at least, pulling the little dog’s wriggling body onto her lap for moral support. Milo Shaw’s presence made her feel things she hadn’t felt in a long time…

 

Milo Shaw lived for these afternoons. Three weeks ago, stuck in an interminable meeting with his accountants and his chief advisor Brandt, he wondered how the hell he’d gotten to this point. His media company was drifting farther and farther away from what he’d envisioned when he’d set it up. His love of music had made him eschew the family oil business and set up his first independent record company and his unerring eye for talent sent the business into the stratosphere. Now, sitting on a billion dollar fortune, Milo was bored. Nearing forty, he no longer spent his time at gigs, following tips around the country, discovering new artists. He spent it in strategy meetings or discussing the company’s online presence or, god forbid, discussing gaming with the nerds from I.T. and feeling very, very old.

He’d escaped the meeting and took off into the city, aiming to grab a coffee and chill out in the cold Seattle sunshine. Instead, he’d found himself pushing open the door of the bookstore that was stuck between two coffee shops and changing his life forever.

He’d seen her right away, the tiny, curvy woman with a mass of dark chocolate hair piled up into a messy bun, smooth, unblemished olive skin and the incredible, somehow familiar violet eyes. She’d looked up at his entrance and given him such a lovely smile that he’d wanted to take her in his arms immediately, kiss that deep pink mouth. The spell had been broken by the rude blonde woman but the amused look he and the owner had shared had given him the perfect excuse to start talking to her.

Now, all these weeks later, he studied her – Ori – as she curled herself into the sofa across from him and sipped her coffee. The violet eyes were surrounded by long, thick dark lashes and the way they swept down onto her faintly blushed cheeks made his groin tighten.

“So, how’s your day been?” Really, that’s the best you can come up with?

Ori smiled. “Busy but busy is good.”

Milo sipped his coffee. “Agreed….if it’s something you’re passionate about.”

“What do you do?”

Milo smiled. He liked that she didn’t know who he was, obviously not caring about the social scene in which Milo orbited, the uber-rich eligible bachelor tag which he hated. He could be anyone he wanted. “I work in the music business…well,” he corrected himself, not wanting to lie to her, “the media business. Music is one of our subsidiaries.”

Ori’s eyes had taken on a wary look that he didn’t understand and when she spoke, she didn’t quite meet his eyes. “So, um, what’s your role in the business?”

Milo smiled sheepishly. “I kind of own it.”

Ori almost choked on her drink and then laughed. “Well, okay then, I’m officially embarrassed. What’s a C.E.O. doing ducking out every afternoon to come spend time with me?”

As soon as she’d asked the question, the answer was so obvious that she flushed, her cheeks taking on the deepest rose pink. Milo put his coffee down and slid over to her side, taking her cup from her hand and setting it down on the little table. She was trembling when he cupped his hands around her face but as he pressed his lips to hers, he was gratified that she kissed him back. Her soft lips moved against his and as he pulled her onto his lap, her fingers slid into his hair, the soft stroking making his senses explode.

Breathless, they broke off and stared at the other for a long moment, then burst into laughter.

“That was unexpected,” Ori confessed and he tightened his arms around her waist, trailing his lips along her jawline, kissing the hollow at the base of her throat.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for three weeks now.”

Ori flushed again – damn, that color was glorious – and he kissed her again. “Ori?”

She had her eyes closed as he kissed her. “Yes?” Her voice was breathy and he could tell she felt as excited and bemused as himself.

“I have a craving for pizza. Have dinner with me?”

Ori opened her eyes and grinned at him. “You had me at pizza.”

***

Milo was true to his word and helped her unpack the rest of the delivery. By the time they were finished the sun had gone down and they were both covered in packing dust. Ori grinned as she looked him up and down. He wore standard jeans and tee but closer inspection revealed that the t-shirt had been artfully and no doubt expensively made to look vintage, the jeans were cut beautifully to fit his huge frame. He must be at least six-five, she thought now, then as he caught her eye, she cleared her throat, embarrassed.

“Look, it’s late…”

Milo shook his head. “Nuh-uh, I’m not letting you blow me off. You promised.”

Ori smiled. “You didn’t let me finish, impatient boy. It’s late, but I have some cold beers in the back, shall we just get pizza delivered? Because I don’t know about you, but I’m filthy.’

Milo’s eyebrows shot up suggestively and Ori blushed for the millionth time that day. “I mean, I’m dirty…oh hell, I give up.”

Ori hadn’t laughed so much in one day for a long, long time. While she called Yas to tell her she’d be out late, she watched Milo play with the dogs. For such a big man, he sure was bullied by the two dachshunds, who weaved and skittered around him, play-growling and yapping.

Yas answered on the first ring. “Yo, sis, I’m almost at the shop.”

Damn. “Um, Yas, I kind have to talk to you, could you go home instead?”

“Too late, I’m here….oh.”

Ori looked up to see her little sister pressed against the main window, staring with a wide open mouth at the scene inside. Ori watched as a wide smile spread across Yas’s face. Her sister made a ‘well done’ signal to her. “I’ll be fine, Ori, you take your time. You’ve got protection, right?”

Ori scowled at her sister. “Yasmin Herd, you’d better…”

“Kidding! Kidding, sis, I meant the dogs, of course.”

“Go away now.”

Beaming, Yas gave her double finger-pistols through the window and disappeared. Ori turned to see Milo laying on the floor, Hamish and Flea jumping on his big chest.

“Help,” he shouted in mock-panic, “the wolves have gotten me.”

Ori laughed and shook her head. “Sorry, pal, nothing I can do. You’re dead meat.”

 

They’d shared a pepperoni pizza and laid waste to six beers by midnight, chatting and talking as if they were old friends. Ori couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk to him, and when he leaned over to kiss her again, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

“You should know,” she said, when breathless, they broke apart, “I’m not the sort of girl who…goes all the way on the first date.”

“Goes all the way? Excuse me, ma’am, are we in the 1950’s?” He was smiling. “I’m just kidding. Besides, this isn’t our first date?”

“It isn’t?”

“Nope. That’s tomorrow night.”

Ori grinned at him. “You’re very confident, Mr. Shaw.”

He pretended to consider then nodded. “Yes, yes, I am. Seriously, though, I’m fine about…that. I don’t want to rush anything here, Ori, I want to savor every last minute with you.”

His words made her stomach warm. Who was this man? He was the kind of man she didn’t think existed anymore: funny, intelligent, romantic. Was it too good to be true?

He was watching her. “I see what you’re thinking but I swear, no bs. I’m too old to play games anymore.” For the first time, she saw doubt creep into his eyes. “Ori…I’m guessing you’re what…mid-twenties? Would the age gap bother you?”

Ori could answer confidently this time. “Not in the slightest. It hadn’t even crossed my mind. And thank you for being…a gentleman.”

Milo gave a short cough of laughter. “Well, not so much…can I interest you in a little under-the-clothes action?” And he slipped his hand under her t-shirt and stroked her belly. Ori couldn’t help the moan of pleasure that escaped her and she pulled his lips down to hers.

“This isn’t at all the way I thought this day would go,” she murmured, hearing him chuckle as he maneuvered her under him on the couch.

It was getting light again before they fell asleep, a night of talking, kissing and caressing, a night that neither of them would forget. Milo wrapped her up in his arms and for the first time in an age, Ori felt completely safe and happy.

***

The rattle of metal screens being pulled up woke them before six. Despite the lack of sleep, they smiled at each other and Milo kissed her before she could object.

“Argh, my morning breath,” she protested but he shrugged.

“Mine too…we cancel each other out.” He kissed her again then they both made faces. “Well, maybe not.”

She extracted herself from his arms, grinning. “There’re spare toothbrushes upstairs – and a shower if you want.”

“You live upstairs?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s mostly stock upstairs, but it does have a bathroom, a small kitchen. Handy if I’m working too late to go home…or, you know, I’ve had strangers here all night.” She waggled her eyebrows at him and he laughed.

“Can I interest you in sharing a shower?”

She reddened immediately. “Um…” Yes, please… “I’d better not…you go ahead while I take the dogs out for a pee.”

Milo, his eyes kind, nodded then gave a dramatic sigh. “My way is more romantic but whatever.”

When she got back, he was freshly showered and making fresh coffee. She went to shower, standing under the warm spray in relief. Even with only a couple of hours sleep, she felt amazing, invigorated, excited. Milo Shaw was….what was he? A nice surprise? As soon as she considered that, she knew that last night hadn’t been so unexpected…in fact, her instinct had been telling her he was someone significant from the first moment they saw each other.

Ori massaged shampoo through her hair fantasizing that his strong hands were moving over her wet body, caressing, loving. It had taken all of her self-control not to sleep with him last night. Call him upstairs. Ori frowned at herself and shut the water off, drying herself quickly and dressing with the spare clothes she always kept here for emergencies.

She was drying her hair with a towel as she went downstairs. A steaming cup of coffee was waiting for on the counter and she saw Milo, his back turned to her, flicking through a magazine.

When he turned and she saw what he was reading, her heart nearly failed. An old issue of Rolling Stone. Milo, grinning delightedly, held it up.

“I thought you looked familiar. You’re Astoria Vine.”

Ori stared at him in abject dismay, sure of one thing. I have to end this now.

It was time to say goodbye to Milo Shaw.

***

Milo was confused. Confused and hurt. Ori had completely shut him down, whisked the magazine from his hands and stood, quivering with something he couldn’t define. Anger? Fear?

“What? What is it?”

But she had just shook her head. “Please, Milo, you need to go now.”

“Ori..”

“Please.” And the way her voice had broken made his own heart thud with sadness.

Now, he sat in his office, he felt a jolt of irritation. What did she think he would do now that he knew who she was? She obviously didn’t want it to get out, which was fine by him, but the way her beautiful face had completely closed down…he picked up the phone. He’d snagged her number when she was in the shower, had even sent her a message while she was naked – man, the temptation – Next time, invite me in… He’d thought it a funny joke at the time.

The phone rang six times before she answered. “Ori?”

Silence. “I can’t talk, Milo, I’m sorry.”

“Now, wait…what the hell happened? We were having a good time then you just…” He sucked in a deep breath. Calm down. “Look, Ori…it makes no difference to me who you were, it’s who you are now that concerns me.”

Ori sighed. “Look, Milo, it’s just…with the business you’re in…I’ve managed to build a life here for me and Yasmin, a life where nobody interferes or pressures me to do things I don’t want to do.”

“Ori, what on earth makes you think any of that would happen? As far as I’m concerned, we’re just two people getting to know each other. Give us a chance, Ori. Trust me when I say no-one will be any the wiser.”

She was quiet for a long time. “I don’t know.”

Milo felt the sting of her hesitation but pressed on. “Look…let me bring you lunch at the shop and we can talk. No strings?”

Another long silence then “Okay.”

Milo sighed with relief. “I’ll be there at twelve.”

***

“You’re an idiot,” Yasmin shoved the last piece of leftover pizza in her mouth and glared at her sister. Ori glared back but inside she felt…she was an idiot. So what if Milo knew who she was? Did she really expect to meet someone who would never know? Truthfully, the thing that scared her was his job. Did she really know him well enough, trust him enough not to exploit her?

“He’s coming over later. We’ll talk but I’m not promising anything.”

Yasmin rolled her eyes. “Jeez. You need to get laid, sis, you’re way too uptight.”

“Thank you for the advice,” Ori pushed the thought of Milo’s skin against her own away. Complication. Very, very nice complication. “Look, Yas, just…don’t pressure me, okay?”

Yasmin sighed and jumped from her seat on the counter. “I’m just saying, don’t throw something – or someone – away before you test the waters. I understand your reticence, I really do.”

Ori smiled at her fondly and tugged one of her sister’s long braids. “When did you get so smart?”

“Brown.” Yas flashed her a smile. “Thanks to you. Not everything from that time was bad, Ori, it paid for this place, after all. Just because Milo knows who you are, doesn’t mean you have to go back to that life.”

After Yas had gone, Ori flitted around the bookstore, helping customers, dusting the shelves. Her mind, however, was fixed on the night she’d nearly ended it all. She’d always told Yas that it was the endless touring, the lack of privacy, the peer pressure to be a party girl. What she hadn’t revealed to anyone was the incident in the hotel bathroom. Lyon’nel (and yes, that was how he spelled his name), the lead singer of her support band, had cornered her. He’d always given her the creeps and she’d avoided him as best she could, without trying to appear aloof and now he’d gotten her where he wanted her. Ori swallowed back a wave of nausea as she recalled his hands on her, her struggle to get away from him…she’d rammed her knee hard into his groin and slipped past him but the damage was done. Never again, Ori thought now, never.

Milo arrived at noon and she closed the door after him, locking it and flipping the sign. She felt awkward now with this man in whose arms she’d spent a night. What made it worse is that he looked gorgeous. Gorgeous and more than a little pissed. Ori took a deep breath in.

“I’m sorry. I freaked out.”

“Yes.”

Okay, straight shooter. Ori looked down at her hands for a moment then met his gaze. “I walked away for a reason – actually, several reasons. I don’t want any of that life back. None of it. Astoria Vine doesn’t exist anymore, Milo and I…”

Milo took two long strides and swept her up into his arms, covering her mouth with his, pressing his lips against hers so fiercely she thought she might pass out. His strong hands holding her so tightly, she melted into the embrace, her fingers stroking his hair.

Breathless, they broke apart and gazed at each other. “That,’ Milo said, his big chest heaving for air, “That right there is the only thing that matters. The only thing.”

And in that moment, Ori Herd fell in love.

***

Yas fixed him with a beady eye. “This is the part where I tell you not to mess with my sister or you’ll have me to deal with. Now, I realize you’re built like a Sasquatch so you probably think you could win but I play dirty.”

Milo grinned at her. “You do, do you?”

“Oh yes.”

“Shut up, Yas, you brat,” Ori called from the kitchen. She appeared then, carrying three plates loaded with pasta. Yas and Milo fell on them gratefully.

She had officially been dating Milo for a week now and so far, she would never have known he worked in the music industry. They talked about music, of course, but in the terms of who they loved to listen to, which bands and singers they had in common – Pearl Jam, Tom Waits, Prince – and they spent one entire date sitting on the floor of her apartment playing records on her ancient turntable.

So far, Milo had been a perfect gentleman, but Ori knew that he wanted more. She knew because so did she; they had kissed, passionately, stroked each other’s skin, had even gotten to the inside-the-underwear part (before a returning Yas had quickly had them scrambling to cover themselves up).

Tonight, though, Yas was making herself scarce. There was an air of anticipation in the small apartment and when, after supper, Yas gave them a knowing wave and disappeared, Ori suddenly became nervous. Milo grinned at her.

“Alone at last.”

He pulled her down on the couch next to him. “Dinner was amazing, thank you.” His lips brushed hers tasting of tomato and basil. Her heart was thumping out a staccato beat, her palms suddenly felt very sweaty.

She opened her mouth to speak when Milo smiled at her. “I want to take you out to dinner tomorrow night, my favorite place in the city.” He named a place and she nearly balked – it was one of the most exclusive in the city. Milo was watching her carefully.

“My treat,” he said. “I like to think of myself as an enlightened man but sometimes, let a guy treat his girlfriend.”

Girlfriend? Wow. Ori tried not to grin. “Deal.”

Milo leaned over to kiss her, and as it grew in intensity, he pulled her onto his lap, wound his arms around her waist. “Ori…”

She hushed him with her mouth and got up, holding out her hand. Milo took it and followed her into her bedroom. They took their time, peeling each other’s clothes off slowly, exploring every curve, every inch of the other’s skin. Milo’s body was unreal…his arms thickly banded with muscle, his shoulders wider than her waist, his broad chest, a faint smattering of dark hair that covered his pecs trailing down to the deep vee of his hips. Ori felt tiny, vulnerable as she stood naked in front of him but he kissed every part of her as if in wonder. His lips trailing across her belly and she felt her senses quicken. Milo scooped her onto the bed, covered her body with his.

“You are so lovely, Ori, every part of you…”

She curled her legs around his waist, the way he was looking at her giving her a confidence she’d never felt before. “I want you so much, Milo.”

His hand slipped between her legs and caressed her and in turn, she touched him, stroking and feeling him thicken. Milo kissed her deeply and as he entered her, Ori felt her whole body react, pressing against him, wanting more, needing his skin against hers. The gentle rocking of their lovemaking grew more intense and they moved together as if they were made for each other, their eyes locked on the other’s, green on violet, skin damp with sweat, hot delirious pleasure vibrating through their bodies.

As she climaxed, Ori whispered his name over and over and he smiled, moaning as he came, kissing her neck, her throat, her breasts. Afterward, they lay, wrapped in the other, kissing tenderly. Milo smoothed the damp hair away from her forehead.

“Ori Herd…I wish I found you years ago. I can’t believe I spent nearly forty years on this planet without you.”

She grinned a wicked smile. “Well, when you think that, just remember…for most of those forty years, I wasn’t born.” She shrieked with laughter as he tickled her in mock outrage. He moved on top of her again and she sighed as he kissed her. He smiled down at her.

“You tired?”

“Not even slightly.”

Milo grinned as he made his way down her body. “Good…because we’re going to do this all…night…long…”

***

Milo sat in his office, the door closed and the best-selling and only album by Astoria Vine playing in his headphones. He wanted to feel close to her, even while he was at work, and although he had already a ton of pictures on his phone, he wanted to hear her voice…and what a voice.

Her singing voice mirrored her low, gruff speaking voice, the depth of tone in it was extraordinary and the range of it – jeez – he struggled to find the superlatives. What took it beyond a good voice, though, was the way it would break, almost a sob at the song’s most emotional parts. Astoria Vine felt every emotion and conveyed them as she sung; he was reminded of Purple Rain, Prince’s masterpiece or Eddie Vedder’s voice on Alive. The album concluded with a cover of Tom Wait’s Jersey Girl – and he loved that she didn’t change the gender of the song. I’m in love with a Jersey Girl….damn, it sent chills through his entire body.

He didn’t even realize Brandt was in the room until his advisor pulled one of the headphones away from his ear.

“Hey, you listening to me?”

Milo, startled out of his reverie, glared at Brandt. He’d known Brandt for ten years, had poached him from another company to come run his music division. The two men had gotten along fine but Brandt’s intense ambition had stopped Milo from ever forming an out of work friendship with the man. Milo knew Brandt would work twenty-four hours for the business but also knew, that if it suited his agenda, Brandt would have no compunction about dropping Milo like a stone. He sighed now as Brandt snuck a look at Milo’s mp3 player.

“Astoria Vine, huh? Jeez, if we could get an artist like that, I’d die a happy man.”

Milo looked amused despite his unease at hearing Ori’s old name in Brandt’s mouth. “Well, if we keep trawling in the pool of Disney and Nickelodeon kids for our music stars…”

“Hey, those kids make up seventy-five percent of our business, Milo. And it’s a rapidly diminishing pool. Download and streaming sales are down. Majorly down.”

Milo shrugged – he’d heard this all before. “Brandt, I keep telling you, touring is the only place musicians make money now. We need to concentrate on signing actual talent instead of human Barbie dolls and boy bands whose shelf life is less than the average Twinkie.”

Brandt was wearing his favorite expression – the patronizing mr-billionaire-has-no-idea-about-the-real-world face that made Milo irritated and tense. Whose company was this? He still remembered why he set up the company to begin with – his love of music. It had ruled his life since he was a kid, the one thing he could always, always count on. He still remembered hearing Bowie for the first time, going through the racks of his local independent music store for bargains with the money he earned from chores. Heck, he still got excited by new artists, Florence and the Machine, Adele, John Legend – why wasn’t Brandt bringing those gems to him?

He asked him straight out and Brandt again wore the supercilious smile of the shark. “Because, Milo, we’re not big enough. We haven’t got the showpiece artists on our roster.”

“Whose fault is that?”

“This is a business, Milo. I go with what I know will sell.”

“And to hell with the quality?”

“Bring me an Astoria Vine and we’ll talk.” Brandt got up to leave. “Until then, let me run the business that made you a billionaire, Milo.”

He stalked out leaving Milo annoyed and belligerent. He pressed the intercom. “Dan? I need an hour, no interruptions okay?”

“Sure thing.” Dan, his p.a., was his usual easy-going self.

Milo stuck the headphones back on his ears as he opened his laptop and typed in Astoria Vine into a search engine. He figured it wasn’t spying if Ori said she wasn’t Astoria Vine anymore, was it?

Was it?

***

Ori looked around the restaurant feeling very, very exposed. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t experienced this luxury lifestyle when she was Astoria, she just thought that was all behind her and truth be told, all night, she had been worried someone might recognize her. She looked totally different of course, but her eyes always gave her away if someone looked too close. She’d kept her glasses on deliberately, even if they didn’t quite go with the dress she was wearing. The delicate pink showed off the dark olive of her skin, the tiny seed beads on the bodice throwing small sparks of light onto her skin. Milo, to her amusement and embarrassment, took a double-look when she opened the door to him.

“Wow. Just wow.”

She’d had to redo her make-up thanks to his admiration. At least, she smirked to herself now, she knew it was easy to get in and out of this dress quickly. Milo grinned at her, reading her mind.

“Just a preview of what you can look forward to later, Ms. Herd.”

She snorted. “Confident, much? Well, we’ll see about that, Mr. Shaw.”

They both laughed and went back to studying the menu. Ori had no idea what to choose, everything looked absolutely stunning. She leaned over to Milo, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Would this establishment frown on me having two entrees and eating them like a half-starved puma?”

Milo chuckled and put his menu up to hide what he was saying. “Stop talking like that, you’re getting me hot. Also, it’s the only way to eat at this restaurant.”

She grinned at him and sat back, ordering the steak when the waiter arrived. Mile ordered the same and a red for them to share then took her hand.

“Hey…I was wondering if you’d like to stay at my apartment tonight? It’s about time you saw it.”

Ori smiled and pushed away the instant rejection that came to mind immediately. Old habit. Not this time. “I’d love to. Can we stop by my place and pick up some clothes first?”

“Of course.”

They chatted easily throughout dinner – which was exquisite – and when dessert came to the table, they shared the indulgent chocolate ganache, swooning over the sugar rush.

They were enjoying their coffee when Milo suddenly cursed softly under his breath. Ori looked up to see a man with dark blonde hair, small flat gray eyes and a very expensive suit walking towards them. The man glanced at her briefly and Ori flushed as his gaze dropped to her cleavage. The man clapped Milo on the shoulder and greeted him with fake joviality. Ori hated him already. Milo, clearly uncomfortable, introduced them.

“Brandt, this is my girlfriend…Orianna Herd. Ori, this is Brandt Villiers, he manages the music division of the company.”

Brandt aimed his fake smile at her then – as Ori had feared – he rocked back a little when he saw her eyes. Dammit dammit dammit. Ori looked back at Milo nervously. His face was closed, annoyed.

Brandt cleared his throat. “A pleasure. I won’t keep you, my date is waiting. Nice to meet you…Ori. Milo, I’ll talk to you on Monday.”

Milo gave a tight nod then, as Brandt walked away, glancing back at Ori as if he wasn’t convinced he’d seen what he’d seen.

Ori felt sick. Milo signaled for the check and less than a minute later they were in his car.

“I’m so sorry about that, Ori, Brandt is…hell, he’s a jerk. It’s my fault he recognized you. I was listening to the record today and he came in and we were arguing about talent versus instant noodle-pop music.”

“You were talking about me?” Her voice was small, tight. He looked at her and reached for her hand.

“No, sweetheart. We were talking about Astoria Vine.”

And just like that, she relaxed. He got it, he really did. She lifted his hand and pressed her lips to it. “It’s okay….and, um, ‘Orianna‘?” Her voice amused, she grinned at him.

“I panicked. What is Ori short for anyway? I know it’s not Astoria.”

“Gloria.” She smothered a giggle. He looked vaguely appalled.

“Really?”

“No.” And he laughed with her. She linked her fingers with his. “It’s Orianthi.”

“That’s beautiful.”

“Thanks.” They smiled at each other and then Milo was driving into the underground garage of his building. Ori couldn’t help but be impressed at the stylish Art-Deco style of the old building and when they reached his apartment, the loft style of his home, expensively but tastefully decorated, lots of dark wood and muted colors. She walked around the large living room with huge windows, long sofas, a bookshelf stuffed with business books – and she noted with satisfaction – a large selection of fiction and vinyl records.

“You like it?”

She smiled back at him. “It’s gorgeous.”

Milo took her in his arms. “You’re gorgeous. This is just…home.”

“I really love it.”

“Good. Let me show you around the rest of the place.” He said that with a lust-filled smile and hand-in-hand, they walked slowly to his bedroom.

***

Brandt was waiting for Milo when he got to work and Milo had to bite back the snarl that threatened. He knew exactly why Brandt was in his office, looking triumphant. He waited for Brandt to speak first then, when he didn’t, he met the other man’s gaze defiantly. Brandt grinned.

“You really going to make me say it?”

Milo feigned ignorance. “Say what?”

“You’re dating Astoria Vine.”

Milo felt his shoulders tense. “No. I’m dating Ori Herd.”

“Come on.” Brandt sat down without being asked, crossing his legs and smiling that obsequious smile that made Milo want to punch him. “That girl is Astoria Vine, I’d know those eyes anywhere. You’re a sneaky one. How long you been shtupping that?”

Milo’s jaw set and his eyes burned as he looked at his subordinate. “Watch yourself, Brandt.”

Brandt held his hands up. “Sorry, bad turn of phrase but tell me, Milo…are you trying to persuade her back into the business? Because that would be…well, I don’t have to tell you that would send us through the roof. We’d be the envy of every record company in America, hell, the world. She may have been away from the scene for a few years but no-one, no-one, has stopped talking about her. That almost never happens – an artist goes on hiatus, the momentum is lost. Not with her.”

He was getting into the swing now, his color up, excitement in his eyes. Milo waited until he’d finished his speech then got up and closed his office door, went and sat behind his desk. He fixed Brandt with a look of pure steel.

“Brandt, let me say this once. Astoria Vine is gone. She doesn’t exist. My girlfriend, Ori, owns a bookshop, is putting her younger sister through college and is happy with her life choices. She has no interest, none, in revisiting her past. Do you understand me?”

Brandt was silent. Milo waited, his stomach roiling with anger and anxiety. Finally, Brandt sighed. “You know what? You’re the boss. It’s a shame but there you go.”

Milo didn’t trust Brandt’s easy acceptance but he nodded. “Good.”

Brandt got up to go. When he reached the door, he turned. “You know what, Milo? I remember something your dad said to me at the Christmas party a couple of years ago. He said he was proud that you’d built the business to what it is but he was surprised too. Because you don’t have the killer instinct. You don’t take the chance. You’re looking at the golden ticket and you’re throwing it over for what?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Milo stared after him, his eyes narrowed. “For the woman I love, you son-of-a…” He said the words out loud because he needed to hear them, needed to know he had made the right decision. He had no doubt that he had…or that he indeed loved the heck out of Orianthi Herd.

***

Ori lay on her stomach, next to him, and shivered with pleasure as Milo ran his fingertips up and down her spine. It had been a month since that first night in the bookshop and Ori had gone through the days in a haze of almost delirious happiness. It showed too, her regular customers all commented on the flush in her cheeks, the shine in her eyes. All day she would think about him, watching the clock until he called and said he was leaving work. They would go back to hers or his and eat and talk and make love until they fell asleep in the other’s arms. On the weekend, they would go out to the islands or someplace fun or hang out with Yas. Idyllic didn’t cover it.

She smiled at him now. “You’re just about perfect, Mr. Shaw.” Milo grinned then pretended to look affronted.

“Just about?”

She snickered. “You’re about…” and she jokingly measured the distance between their groins, “Twelve inches from being perfect.”

“Dirty girl.” He kissed her. “Hey, I have a random question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why ‘Astoria Vine’? If you don’t mind me asking.”

She smiled and rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow. “Astoria was my mother’s name. Vine came from…and this is so dumb…from Herd…as in ‘I heard through the grapevine’.” She crossed her eyes to show how dumb she thought it was. Milo started to laugh.

“You’re kidding.”

“One hundred percent not kidding.”

She joined in with his mirth and soon they were laughing and kissing and Milo was pushing her back onto the bed, covering her body with his.

 

As they made love, slowly, leisurely, Milo trailed his lips along her cheek and nuzzled her ear.

‘Ori?”

She was breathless as she smiled up at him. “Yes?”

He gazed into her deep brown eyes. “I love you.” He saw tears spring into her eyes then roll down her adorably plump cheeks.

“I love you too.”

They made love late into the night and at just past three a.m., Ori fell asleep, exhausted. Milo lay beside her, listening to her even breathing, He honestly felt at that moment that his world was complete. His business was a success, he had the most wonderful, sexy, smart, funny woman in his arms….so why did he feel as if it could all disappear in a flash?

***

Ori thanked the delivery guy and hefted the last of the boxes into the shop. Thirty minutes later, sweaty and covered in dust, she stood, groaning as she bent backward trying to assuage the ache. Whoever thought retail wasn’t strenuous was an idiot, she thought to herself. She reached over and flicked the switch on the coffee machine. A quick espresso would get her through the rest of the delivery quicker, she reasoned. She grabbed her craft knife and slit open another box just as the doorbell jingled. Ori looked up and blinked, surprised.

Brandt smiled at her. He was dressed casually, jeans and sweater, and carrying a bunch of velvety roses. “Hi, Ori, lovely to see you again.” He held out the roses and Ori hesitantly took them. She was confused and not a little wary. On second sight, Brandt looked friendly, less sleazy but she didn’t trust him. He knew who she was.

“Thank you, they’re lovely.” She turned to put them on the counter. “What can I do for you?”

Brandt smiled. “I need to talk to you about something…difficult.”

Her chest tightened. “Mr…”

“Brandt. Just Brandt, and I need to talk to you about Milo.”

That threw her. “Is he okay?”

Brandt held his hands up. “He’s fine, don’t worry, he’s fine….look, can we…?” He nodded to the couches. Ori gave a tight nod and they settled opposite each other. She didn’t offer him coffee; the dude gave her the creeps and she wanted to him to leave quickly.

“Ori…I think we can dispatch with any bull….I know you’re Astoria Vine. Or you used to be.”

Ori said nothing, her jaw flexing as she gritted her teeth. “Brandt…I am done with that life.”

Brandt nodded then fixed her with his blue eyes. “You love Milo, don’t you?”

Ori narrowed her eyes at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Milo’s business is failing. We are losing money in huge amounts. We just don’t have the star power and we’re failing. Milo won’t share this with you because he’s stubborn but there is a very real possibility that he’ll lose everything within the next six months.”

Ori closed her eyes, swallowing hard, finding her throat closing, her stomach roiling. She knew what was coming.

“We need something big, something unexpected. Remember when Beyonce dropped her album with zero promotion? It changed the whole ballgame. If we could find something like that…”

Milo could lose everything. Everything. Every emotion raced through Ori’s body, different solutions to the problem, everything except what Brandt was asking her to do.

“Ori…Astoria…you could single-handedly turn Milo’s life around – more than you have already. He’s absolutely crazy about you.” Brandt’s voice was soft, understanding. “And I would not ask you to do this unless I was desperate to save my friend.”

His change of tone confused her – the guy seemed desperate. “What is it you want me to do?”

She watched his shoulders relax. “Go into the studio, write a new album. No-one will know except you, me, the producer and the session musicians. Then we drop the album unexpectedly. Maybe a tour.”

“No tour,” she said immediately. He sat up, his eyes alive.

“You’ll do it?”

“I didn’t say that. I need to think.”

Brandt nodded, stood and handed her his card. “That’s fair. For now, let’s keep this between us…if Milo knew I had asked you to save him, he would be humiliated. Let’s not share this with anyone. You make a decision, call me.” He reached down and squeezed her shoulder. “You are the best thing that ever happened to him, Ori. The best.”

Ori waited until he left then got up unsteadily, stumbled to the door, locked it and flipped the sign. She made it all the way upstairs to the bathroom before she threw up.

***

Milo stroked his hand down over her body, her waist, her hips. “Are you okay? You’re so quiet tonight.”

Ori tried to smile. “I’m fine, I think I had a bad sandwich at lunch.” She closed her eyes as Milo stroked her stomach tenderly. As soon as she’d seen him, she’d flown into his arms, kissing him fiercely. They hadn’t touched the pizza they’d ordered, falling into bed and making love, much to Milo’s delight.

Now she felt drained, though, Brandt’s offer banging around her brain like a battering ram. She stroked Milo’s face. “Milo…what would you have done if you hadn’t gone into the music business?”

Milo looked surprised by her question but considered. “I honestly don’t know. I was determined to do a job connected with music – and seeing as I can’t sing or play an instrument, at least not well, I took part-time jobs in record stores, started a small indie label and it just grew from there. I can’t imagine doing anything else or re-inventing myself like you have.” He smiled down at her and pulled her closer. “Not like you. You’re amazing.”

Ori smiled but her heart thumped hard against her ribs and she felt misery settle over her.

Later, when Milo was asleep, Ori slipped out of bed, grabbed her cell phone and headed into the living room. She dialed the number.

“Ori, how nice to hear from you.” Brandt sounded smug and satisfied. Ori took a deep breath in.

“I’ll do it.”

“I’m glad. I’ll speak to you in the morning.”

She ended the call, leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window and silently sobbed.

***

Milo stared at her. “You’re kidding.”

Ori shook her head, not meeting his eye. “No. I want to do it. I’ve…had the thought in my mind for a while now. An album. That’s all. No tour. No publicity.”

“You can’t be that naive.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Is it money? Is that why? Are you struggling?”

“No, I…no. That’s not it.”

“Then why?” He sounded angry, frustrated and Ori had to turn away from him before she told him the biggest lie.

“Because I want to. I feel…I have left things unfinished.”

She jumped as Milo banged his fist on the table. “I don’t believe you. I don’t. Something else is going on here.”

She drew in a shaky breath. “Look, ever since we met, ever since you found out who I was, I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. You’re a very visible man, Milo, people would find out eventually anyway. This way we can control the story. I can say goodbye to Astoria properly, hopefully, negate the constant questions.”

Milo was silent. When he looked at her, his eyes were cold. “I hope you trusted me.”

“I do, god, Milo…” She went to him, curled herself around him and was gratified when he held her tightly. “You are my person. With you, I feel invincible.”

He kissed her temple and looked down at her. “Is this what you really want?”

She nodded and he sighed. “Well then, we’ll make it happen. But, Ori, I want you to be open with me through the process. And you don’t sign anything until the album’s done and you’re absolutely sure you want it out there. You want out at any point, you got it without question. Deal?”

She snuggled into his arms, feeling a little better. “Deal. I love you.”

“I love you too, funny face. Just not sure I want to share you with the world.”

***

“No contract? Are you insane?” Brandt was incensed. “Who puts that much money into an artist without a contract?”

Milo sighed and rubbed his face impatiently. “Brandt, I just gave you your golden ticket. Against my wishes, might I add, so suck it up. No contract until Ori says she’s sure.”

Brandt sighed. “Fine. So what’s the plan?”

“I hooked Ori up with Rocky Logan, they’re going into the studio to write today, see how the chemistry is. Rocky’s a good fit for her, I think, strong female voice, rock, pop, whatever Ori’s feeling.”

“Can we call her Astoria now? That’s, after all, her name.”

“Ori is her name, Astoria is a character.”

Brandt rolled his eyes. “Whatever. So, promotion. Really we want to start a whisper campaign, just a ‘Where is Astoria Vine?’ thing. I could plant a few stor…”

“No. Absolutely not. This has to be low key. I don’t want Ori harrassed.”

Brandt sighed. “Fine.” He got up to leave Milo’s office and as he turned his back, Milo could have sworn he saw the man grin.

“Brandt?”

Brandt turned, smoothing out his expression. Milo stared at him, seeing the raw ambition inside him. It turned his stomach.

“I mean it. This can’t get out.”

***

It got out, of course. Day six in the studio and Ori was actually having a great time. Rocky Logan, an immensely tall and very talented writing partner Ori never had. The two women bonded almost immediately and by the end of the first week, they’d laid the groundwork for four new tracks.

At half past seven, Ori said goodbye to Rocky and pushed her way out of the back door of the studio. She was checking her phone for messages so when the flashbulbs started to go off, she panicked. The door behind her had locked so when she pushed back, the cold metal of the door slammed against her back. Questions were flung at her, shouted, screeched and she tried closing her eyes but they were jostling her, bodies pressed against her, touching her…

Suddenly there was clear air as someone grabbed her hand and pulled her through the throng. Someone was cussing out the feral pack of paparazzi and then she was inside a car and zooming away from them.

She opened her eyes. She was sitting in the passenger seat of Milo’s car as he drove them away from the studio. His face was set, grim, but he reached over and took her hand.

“I’m so sorry about that, sweetheart. Damn, Brandt leaked that you were in the studio. I’m going to kill that…” He broke off, too angry to continue.

She couldn’t speak for a while, too shell-shocked and shaken. Milo drove until they were well clear of the main road then pulled the car over. He turned and took her in his arms.

“Are you okay?”

His lips were at her temple and she sank into his embrace. “I think so…it was just a shock, is all.”

They sat there for a while, just holding each other then he pulled away, smoothing his hands over her face and brushing her lips with his. “You wanna pull the plug? Just say it.”

To both of their amazement, she shook her head. “No, actually. I’m having a great time with Rocky. We’ve written a couple of songs which I think could be huge.”

Milo smiled despite himself. “You’re okay with the press thing?”

“Not really but you were right, I was stupid to think they wouldn’t find out. Are you sure it was Brandt?”

“Positive.”

Ori sighed in confusion. “But I thought…never mind. I just thought you all wanted to do a ‘Beyonce‘, drop the album as if from nowhere.”

It was Milo’s turn to be confused. “What? No, I just wanted there to be no press for your sake…where did you get the idea…?” He trailed off but Ori could tell he had figured it all out.

Brandt. Brandt was the one who had persuaded her to go back into the business. Milo’s jaw set and he started the car.

“Milo?”

“Sweetheart, we’re going home, we’re going to eat then you’re going to tell me everything.”

***

Brandt, a large latte in one hand and the newspaper in the other, swung into his office the next morning, not seeing Milo already sitting behind his desk. He rocked back when he saw his boss.

“Hey, guess it got out, huh?”

He moved towards his chair, expecting Milo to vacate it, but his boss didn’t move and, with growing unease, Brandt settled for the chair opposite. Milo stared at him for a moment before speaking.

“We’re going to need your hard pass and your company car keys. Your stuff is in that box over there. Security will escort you from the building.”

Brandt stared at Milo. “Are you kidding?”

“Does it look like I am?”

Brandt glanced to his left – a cardboard box was indeed stuffed with crap from his desk.

“You manipulated her into this,” Milo’s voice trembled with fury. “You told her the company was in trouble and that if she loved me, she’d step up. You had no idea why she left the business, you didn’t care.”

Brandt smiled. “She told you everything, huh?”

“You don’t deny it?”

“No. And, by the way, you can’t fire me for doing what’s best for the company. If you’ve told her that she doesn’t have to do this, then you’re the one who is hurting the company and you’ll have to explain that to the board. Then we’ll see who they back.”

Milo’s answering smile was wide. “I have. Do you think I’d walk into this office without their backing? And so you know…Ori is still doing this. Not for me, not for the company and certainly not for you, but for herself. She’s sitting down with Rolling Stone right now to tell her side of the story. To say goodbye. The songs she and Rocky have written are amazing…and they’ll be performed by another artist. Astoria Vine is no more, Brandt, but Ori Herd will be remembered as one of the best songwriters of all time. And she gets to keep her life private from now on. Our life. Yours, at least in the music industry, is over.”

Milo stood up. “You’re finished, Brandt. And it’s entirely your own greed that’s done it. Security will be here soon to show you out.”

***

Ori smiled at her last customer of the day as they thanked her. She was pretty exhausted but something happy had settled inside her. She was a songwriter – not a star, not a commodity – but she was now able to feed that part of her psyche. She hadn’t realized she had missed it that much.

She switched off the coffee machine and went to lock the door when it was pushed open. Brandt stood in the doorway and immediately Ori’s stomach contracted.

The raw fury in his eyes was unmistakable.

“What are you doing here?” She cursed the way her voice shook.

He smiled but there was no humor in it. “Just taking care of loose ends.”

And he grabbed her.

***

Milo was pulling up the curb when he saw Yas banging on the door of the bookshop, her face stricken. He jumped from the car, his heart pounding.

“Yas?”

She turned, tears running down her face. “I can’t get in. Ori never locks it before I get home. I can hear screams, shouting – I think there’s someone in there, I think someone’s hurting her.”

Oh god no… Milo, without hesitation, threw himself against the door and broke it down. They both dashed in to find a wild, feral Brandt with his hands around Ori’s throat. She was fighting, clawing at him, but in the split second, before Milo leaped at Brandt, he could see she was hurt, weakening.

Milo pulled Brandt from his love and knocked him cold with one punch. He grabbed a lamp, tugging the cord around Brandt’s wrists and ankles, hog-tying the unconscious man. Yas rushed to Ori’s side. Ori was sitting up now, trying to get her breath. Milo’s stomach dropped at the sight of her throat, bruised and red, covered with bloody scratches. He took her in his arms while a shaking Yas called the police. Ori was trembling but she held him as tightly as he held her.

“I’m so sorry, baby…I’m so sorry…”

Ori kissed him. “I’m okay, it’s okay. It’s over, now….I love you….”

***

A year later….

They watched the ceremony, of course, blocking out the usual fluff of bad jokes and middling performance by making fun of the most ridiculous acts and cheering the winners they liked.

Orianthi Herd and Milo Shaw lazed about in his huge bed, naked limbs entwined. Milo kissed her and smiled down at her.

“You’re a Grammy winner twice over,” he said proudly. It was true – Ori and Rocky’s song Falling had been nominated in three categories, Song of the Year, Best Producers and Record of the Year. They’d swept the first two and Ori and Milo had cheered Rocky on as she headed for the stage in Los Angeles.

Ori had made it clear she didn’t want any of the spotlight but Rocky had years of experience and was happy to do the honors. Her heartfelt thank-you speech moved Ori to tears, especially when Rocky spoke of her love of her new writing partner. Milo hugged a choked-up Ori and smiled.

“You rock, baby.”

She grinned at him and wriggled underneath him. “You rock my world, Shaw.”

He groaned. “That was the cheesiest line ever.” He chuckled as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “You know something, Miss Herd?”

“What’s that?”

“You are the love of my life and I never want to be without you.”

She pressed her lips to his. “You never will be, my darling, darling man.”

“You and me forever.”

As they began to make love, their eyes met and locked and soon they were tumbling and loving and gasping so intensely, they completely missed the announcement of Record of the Year…

Neither of them cared…least of all the three-time Grammy winner…

THE END