Chapter 1

I started getting ready two hours early.

The unstable and scatterbrained lifestyle I had adopted over the last several years had no place in my agenda for the day.

So I took my time in the shower, ensuring that whatever grime I had missed or ignored previously due to my constant impatience and inability to luxuriate under warm water was dealt with, and in the end, I almost didn’t want to leave the bathroom.

Today, I also allowed the novelty of vanity thoughts, and my mind ran through them all. What was I going to wear? What hairstyle would best portray my prosperity? Appearing within my means today was out of the question.

After working up enough urgency to drive me from the bathroom, I crept into my roommate’s bedroom and began my transformation at her dressing table.

The Amore Pacific Moisturizer that cost more than my rent for the month went sparingly onto my face, and following shortly after, was her high-end makeup that definitely made me feel more confident than the under $10 dollar, nearly empty products that filled the Ziploc bag in the outer part of my suitcase.

I went for a smoky eye and a dark red lip, counting on the sophistication that it would bring to my usually plain face, and took my time curling my recently chopped hair into a wavy bob.

“Why would you cut off your beautiful hair?” my roommate Bethany had shrieked just a few months earlier when I moved in. A blush from my end covered up the pain of the real reasons as they filtered through my mind: short hair consumes fewer products and requires less time to keep in check.

“I needed the change,” was the excuse that I gave her.

Now if only some sort of similar principle could be applied to clothes. I had found over the years that it was a lot harder to deceive yourself and others that what you were wearing was as expensive as you wanted it to appear.

Bethany did not splurge on clothes as she did on moisturizers but a tucked in silk georgette off-the-shoulder top, tucked into a high-waisted leather pencil skirt from her wardrobe was more than what I could ask for.

My feet were unfashionably larger than Bethany’s, so I looked in my own wardrobe for salvation and settled on a pair of Oxfords that one of the few good times in my life allowed me to splurge on.

I hurried back to Bethany’s wardrobe for the punctuation that her small black sling purse would give, shimmied in just one spritz of her perfume and was out the door in a rush.

It was a cool autumn day in New York, and never had I been so grateful. I walked thirty-five minutes to save the cab fare and arrived at the cafe for my meeting without breaking a sweat. The perfume still swirled around me, my hair was only slightly tousled by the breeze, and my eyes were bright thanks to the involuntary late afternoon workout.

I took a deep, all-encompassing breath to boost my courage and confidence, and walked into the coffee shop to meet my parents. They had immigrated to the US from Brazil shortly before I was born and retained what I thought was a very conservative set of values and attitudes.

My mom was the one who first sighted me, and the approving smile on her face settled my frayed nerves. The next person to face was my father and for him, no amount of preparation could suffice. I avoided his eyes until after I slid into the booth and gave my mother a light kiss on the cheek. I turned to see him running cold eyes up and down my appearance, and then finally meeting my gaze.

“Dad,” I greeted, and he gave me a nod.

“Carson, how are you?”

“Great, I’m doing great. You’re looking so much younger, what’s going on? Mom, what are you feeding him?”

“Idleness will do that to you,” she said. “He does little more these days than demand meals and watch television.”

My mouth formed into a little o. “He does seem to have put on a bit more weight. You look good.” I hoped for a reciprocative compliment for my borrowed air of prosperity, but just as I expected, he went straight to what really mattered to him.

“What are you doing these days?” he asked.

I suddenly noticed my mom’s chrysanthemum tea on the table and raised it to my lips for a taste. “Same as always, working,” I replied.

“What work are you doing?”

“I’m working on my writing career, Dad, I’m improving.”

“You’ve been saying that for the last eight years.”

“Well, nothing happens overnight. I have an agent and scripts in the works, I’m doing what I want to do. I’m happy. How’s retirement treating you? And the talk you gave at the conference today? Mom, how was it?”

She brushed away a strand of hair that had glued itself to my forehead. “He did well, though he seemed a bit more nervous than usual.”

“Dad was nervous?” I returned my gaze to my father, with as much amusement as I could work up. “Impossible.”

“You’re thirty, aren’t you?” he said, and I couldn't stop the sigh that followed.

“I’m twenty-nine, Dad.”

“When are you planning on getting married?”

His questions began to upset me. “I’ll get married when I’m supposed to.”

“And when is that?”

“I’m not God, Dad. I don’t know.”

“She’ll find someone soon,” Mom intercepted and lifted a spoonful of cake to my lips which I readily accepted. “Do you want to order something?” she asked.

“No. I’m in a rush.”

“Where are you going?” My dad asked.

“I have a meeting with my agent. He wants to talk to me about one of my scripts.”

“Why do the talks never end?”

That statement hurt me, but my only response was a smile. I turned my face away from him, and that was when my eyes met his—the dark-haired stranger that sat at the counter amidst other patrons.

He didn’t take his eyes away from mine and that was why my gaze lingered on.

“I’ve never discouraged you from following your dreams,” my dad continued, “but you should at least have some stability by now.”

“I am stable,” I said without taking my eyes from the stranger’s. For some reason staring at him seemed to make it all easier. My nerves began to relax, and my voice became more stable, allowing the lies to fall more easily from my lips.

“How are you stable? You can’t even afford a place of your own.”

That broke my gaze away. I turned toward my father without even noticing the comforting hand that my mom had placed on my arm.

“Why did you lie to me?” he asked. “Instead of telling me that you are too poor to pay your own rent, you gave some silly excuse about why we had to stay in a hotel in a city where our own daughter has lived in for almost ten years.”

“It’s been eight, Dad,” was all I could say. “I’ve only been here for eight years.”

“Do you think I’m joking with you?” he asked. “What progress have you made in those eight years?”

“Things take time,” I repeated.

“Didn’t you move to New York the same day that Bethany did? And now you are mooching off her. If you had completed your law degree God only knows where you might have been by now.”

A tear fell from my eye then and I immediately looked away, clearing my throat and lowering my head as I subtly brushed it away. “I have to leave,” I said and rose to my feet.

“I’m not done talking to you.”

“I’ll be late for my meeting,” I said and met his gaze defiantly. I could see the disappointment in his eyes and it tore ferociously at my heart. I couldn't be here a moment longer.

“I want you to get married,” he finally declared, and I listened patiently to him. “At least that would put my mind at peace. You will have someone to take care of you and a family of your own. You can keep doing whatever you want thereafter but I need a foundation under your feet.”

I picked up my purse and slung its strap over my shoulder.

“Come back to Connecticut,” he said. “There’s someone that would be perfect for you. He was one of the junior managers under me but is doing quite well for himself. He has a lot of potential for growth and a stable future. He’ll be able to take care of you properly. I am sure that you will like him too.”

“I’m not coming back home, Dad,” I said. He pounded his fist and shot up from his seat. His furious bang on the table sent my heart almost flying out of my chest as I looked at him in surprise and around the coffee house at the attention that we had just commanded.

“Dad?” I called out in shock.

“You better respond properly to me,” he said.

“I’ll call you later. I’ll think about it.”

“No, I want a response right now. I want you to move back home and settle down.”

My voice shook as I spoke. “I can’t.”

The silence that stretched out between us seemed to last forever.

“Then I’ll consider myself from now on as not having a daughter.”

I turned towards him in shock and so did my mother.

“What?”

“Byron?”

“I am not going to worry myself into the grave because of you. I’ve worked hard in my life and done my very best for my family. I’d rather have peace of mind in what little time I have left in this world than a daughter that has no regard for me.”

I almost couldn’t breathe… the words barely made it out of my lips. “Dad…”

He brought his cup of coffee to his lips but placed it back down on the saucer without taking a sip. “Call the waiter over for the bill so we can leave,” he said to my mother. Afterward, he reached into his pocket and with shaky hands, retrieved his inhaler. I watched as he shook it almost desperately and brought the pump to his lips to keep from suffocating.

The sight wounded me beyond words. I turned from them and began to walk slowly away as a hollow feeling of despair settled in the pit of my stomach. Just before I reached the exit, however, I looked up and met again the gaze of the man that I had held a short while earlier.

Yet again he didn’t take his eyes away from mine, and the look he gave me infused me with a strength that I could not explain. I began to walk in his direction and only realized this when I stopped before him.

He rose to his feet from the stool on which he had perched. He towered considerably over me in height. His eyes were almost as green as mine.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and his voice seemed to send needle pricks down my arms.

“Why were you staring at me?” I asked.

I expected a smile, but instead, his gaze was void of amusement. “Because I find you interesting,” he replied.

“What’s interesting about me?”

“I’m not sure,” he responded. “This is a room filled with people, but for some reason, you stand out to me.”

I didn’t even give myself a second to think before the next question fell from my lips. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Could you walk over to that table with me and introduce yourself to my parents as my boyfriend?”

“Why?” he asked, and out of nowhere, the tears fell from eyes. I was so shocked that I couldn’t look away and to my surprise, he took a step closer to me, never breaking his gaze from mine. A handkerchief appeared out of nowhere, and I watched as though out of my body as he lightly dabbed it down my cheeks. When he finished, he leaned even further in and placed a kiss on my forehead. My heart began to pound erratically in my chest.

“Let’s go,’ he said and linked my hand with his. He led me quietly toward my parents’ table, my expression one of astonishment for his response rather than fear at what we were about to do.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

“What do I need to know?” he asked as we headed toward my parents, but I couldn't even respond.

We arrived at my parents’ table and he gave them both a polite smile. “Good day, ma’am, sir,” he greeted. “I’m Xander Cage, I’m your daughter’s boyfriend.”

In that moment I was sure that I was as taken aback as my parents.

“What?” my mom said, looking from his gaze to mine. “W-why didn’t you introduce him earlier?”

I didn’t dare look at my father.

“She didn’t know that I was here,” he responded, and I watched the smile spread across my mother’s face.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said and extended her hand. I watched as he accepted it politely and then turned to my father. I turned with him and almost hid behind his broad shoulders, clad in a dark pristine suit. He smelled of wealth and tobacco.

“Carson, why did you not mention him at all?” my mother squealed.

He turned to glance at me from over his shoulder and only then did I realize that my two hands were holding onto one of his arms for dear life. “She didn’t inform me of your visit,” he said as he gazed deeply into my eyes and in that moment, I believed every single word that he was saying.

“I forgot,” I heard myself say, and his smile took my breath away.

“What do you do?” My dad asked, and I was instantly brought back to reality.

“He needs to leave,” I said, and stepped back out to face the world. “He’ll be late for his appointment otherwise.”

“I’ll call you,” I said to no one in particular and with my hand in his, I pulled my new boyfriend along with me and out of the coffee shop.

 

♡

 

XANDER

 

Her hand was trembling as she led me away.

I stared down at it, slender and plain, and wondered just where it might lead me. I had asked myself this same question the first day that I met my now business partner many years earlier, in the very coffee shop that we had just vacated. Our meeting had led me to a career that I enjoyed and more money than I could ever need in the bank. I pulled my hands away from hers.

She stopped at the loss of contact and turned around to face me. A rush of light breeze passed along the semi-crowded sidewalk and blew tendrils of her blonde hair across her face. She was indeed beautiful, just as I had accessed the moment she had walked into the coffee house; however, her kind of beauty was subtle. It was the kind that took a few moments to register and allowed only a few the insight to recognize its elegance.

She took a step back as she tucked her hair behind her ears, while I slipped my hands quietly into my pockets concerned that they would reach forward out of their own volition to touch her. Her hips were full, her waist slim, and her breasts straining against the thin, sheer material that hung off her shoulders. As a tangible buzz of desire rushed through my body, I wondered if I would be able to let her go scot-free. I eventually drew my eyes to her dark red lips, and couldn't remember the last time that I had wanted to kiss someone so badly.

“I’m sorry,” she began. “I mean… thank you. My request was quite strange.”

“It was,” I responded. “I hope it helped, in whatever way you needed it to.”

“Perhaps,” she replied, seemingly unsure of what she herself had wanted it to achieve.

“So how do I get paid?” I asked, and her eyes shot up to mine. The shock in them amused me.

“W-what do you mean?”

“I helped you out,” I said to her. “I should get something back in return.”

“Oh,” she said and in her eyes, I could see what looked like disappointment. It did not bother me for even a second.

She turned towards the purse by her side and began to filter through it. “Ho-how much do you want?” she asked. Her voice was low as though she really didn’t want to hear my response.

“A kiss will do,” I replied, and her eyes widened to the size of saucers. The genuine puzzlement in them truly amused me and somehow heightened my desire for her. It was as though the soles of my feet had been set on fire. I took a step towards her and she instantly took one away from me.

She looked offended.

“Your parents are watching,” I reminded her. She glanced past me to the windows of the cafe where her parents were watching the dynamics between their daughter and her newly introduced partner.

She turned around then to hail a cab, and one pulled into the curb beside her a few moments later. She reached out for the handle, but I got to it first and held the door in place.

“What are you doing?”

I wasn’t sure either, but letting her go was not an easy decision. “A kiss really will do,” I said to her, almost expecting her to push me out of her way. She held my gaze instead, and to my surprise, tilted her head and took my lips in hers.

It was an instantly intrusive kiss and one that even I had not been fully prepared for. As the burst of ecstasy set my blood to boil, I tightened my hold on the door handle for fear that she would break it off just as suddenly as it had begun and scamper away.

Instead, however, her arms found their way around my waist as she lifted herself up on tiptoes, and slipped her tongue into my mouth. I felt myself stumble and sway slightly with her as I somehow lost my balance, but still, I couldn't stop. I held her face in my hands and drank in pure toxic fire.

By the time she broke it off I could have sworn that I was more disoriented than she had probably been. I watched, dumbfounded, as she got into the back seat of the taxi, and rode off to join the bustling New York traffic.

My Mercedes pulled up to the vacated spot and only when my chauffeur opened the door and stood before me did I pull my eyes away from the retreating bright yellow cab. I got in without a word and afterward, wet my lips to savor what remaining taste of her lingered on them. A quick swipe across them brought my thumb away with stains of a dark red lipstick, and I didn’t know what to do with it. My phone began to ring then so I added the stain to the memorandum of her tears on my handkerchief and answered the call.

“Where are you?” my business partner David asked. “The updates presentation is about to start.”

“I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. I stopped by the coffee shop I used to work in after the proposal at Huxton’s.”

“Dan and Chung? Is the cafe close to their office?

“It’s right across the street from it.”

“Wow, I haven't been back to that cafe in years. Does Brandon still own the place?” he asked, referring to the brittle old man of few words that had given an emotionally battered teenager a chance.

“He does, but I didn’t get to meet with him today. I’ll find the time to come back. I’ll be in the office soon.”

I hung up the phone and a few minutes later the car pulled up to the steel and glass skyrise that housed my company, Beeme.

Everything was in place the moment I got into the conference room on the executive floor, so I took my place at the head of the table and the meeting began. New design and operational elements were put forward and by the third hour of the session, the meeting came to an end with my concluding inquiries.

“The ‘remember me’ function has still not been fixed,” I said as I ticked the noted bug off my notes. “Did none of your departments remember to address this?”

Silence.

“W-we handled that last week,” Bob Dilligan, the Development Director stated.

“Pull up Beeme’s login page and show it to me.”

They did as instructed, and the function for preventing the continuous re-entering of passwords was still a problem. I ignored the mumbled apologies and moved through my list of needed improvements before eventually exiting the room.

David walked with me to my office trying to get immediate feedback concerning the proposed updates.

“You know I won’t say anything now,” I replied. “I’ll process this and get back to you all.”

“Alright, but I especially like the continuous running of audio even after the app has been exited. Don’t reject that one.”

I noted his suggestion and took my seat at my desk. He perched on the edge of the desk and folded his arms across his chest.

“The updates aside, you won’t believe the speaking engagement request my secretary brought to my table this morning. It’s for a technology and innovation conference at Columbia University.”

I knew instantly what bothered him about this, so I indulged him as I went through the approval requests that my secretary had left on the desk for me. “Isn’t that the University that your ex-wife works in?”

David turned in surprise towards me. “How do you know that?”

I didn’t bother with a response, and he continued with his rant. “Did I tell you how she got that assistant professor job in the first place? I had to personally recommend her to the head of her department otherwise, she would have been starving and wandering around jobless after she completed her Ph.D.

I tuned him out as I worked, and he didn't even notice. Soon he grew tired of his own ramblings against his ex-wife, swore at the self-inflicted complications it brought to his life and eventually left me to myself.

 

 

♡

 

CARSON

 

I stared straight ahead at nothing as the cab pulled away from the curb. The meeting with my parents had been pushed to the back of my mind and in its place was the kiss I had just had with a complete stranger.

Why had I agreed to the kiss?

I had absolutely no idea.

There was something about him… a danger to him that I could not explain, and it confused me. In his eyes shone a strength that I was sure most people would be unable to handle, but the stark contrast to his simply-put-together appearance was befuddling. He had dark hair, a clean-shaven face, and a voice that somehow managed to be quiet and resounding at the same time.

For the briefest of moments, I had considered obliging his request for the benefit of the show that I felt my parents needed, but then as I had stared into his electric eyes that both frightened and comforted me, the last thing I had wanted to do in that moment was to leave him without making some sort of impression.

The rain of unrestrained ecstasy that had flooded my veins was more than I could have asked for, and as I lightly stroked my thumb across my bottom lip, I found myself looking back for perhaps a fading glimpse of him. However, it was too late. We were now deep in the streets.

It occurred to me then that I hadn’t even told the driver where I was headed.

Worse still was the reminder that I could not afford the expense of a taxi.

“Stop!” I shrieked, and the driver gave me a surprised look through the rearview mirror.

“Here?”

“Yeah,” I said and at his frown at the short distance, I mumbled an apology.

It had just hit the $6 mark when I got out and as I retrieved the bills from my purse to hand over to him I felt my heart break just a little. That had been most of my coffee shop allowance for the day to sustain myself as I hammered away at my writing. I was handling a self-help non-fiction project for the most ambiguous and indecisive client that I had ever encountered.

Feeling absolutely drained from all that had happened in the past hour, I turned around and began my commute back to Bethany’s apartment.