Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Tad Conner, the man most likely to murder me, pinned me in place with his inscrutable expression.
I let my eyes scan the Friday night crowd in the upscale restaurant my friend Mila insisted we visit. As expected, she was not on time, and I'd be waiting again. I took a deep breath and remembered that there was no use in being annoyed because she could always beguile me into forgiving her.
The enticing aroma of the eateries' exotic cuisine tickled my nose. For Mila, treating herself and, sometimes me, to lush meals at upscale restaurants was her way of living close to what she dreamed of possessing, a place in New York's upper echelon of society.
If she only knew that I'd grown up privy to all that she coveted, it would no doubt change the easy camaraderie we shared. Either that, or I'd drown in the pity she'd feel knowing that I'd lost all claim to that privileged world.
At twenty-six years of age, I was a struggling, poverty-line working girl with no privileges and few options. My once wealthy father now resided behind prison walls in upstate NY and my socialite mother barely existed in a state-funded nursing home.
My life consisted of procuring food, clothing, and shelter with the money I had left after paying my mother's monthly fees. Even though the fees weren't high, my wage as a cleaner in the housekeeping department of 'Z' Corp wasn't overly high, either.
But for a girl who'd spent her first twenty-two years spoiled by rich and indulgent parents and who'd never studied or trained for anything close to a practical career or vocation, any job was better than no job.
I made my way to the handful of chairs in the lobby, intent on being comfortable while I waited.
I was staring at the message screen on my phone in hopes of an update from Mila when a pair of expensive-looking male shoes appeared close to my thrift store pumps.
I looked up and immediately shivered in the chill of glacier-blue eyes focused squarely on mine. My heart paused its rhythmic pace and then beat furiously against my chest.
Why me? Why am I the unluckiest woman alive?
Tad Conner, the man most likely to murder me, pinned me in place with his inscrutable expression.
Memory flashes streaked across my mind like those of a Roman candle.
Memories of our senior year in high school. He was the poor, bad boy, and I was the campus princess. Memories of the embarrassment I felt when he confessed his feelings for me and continued to pursue me despite my spiteful rejections.
I could feel the moisture form on my neck as he continued his silent perusal of my face. I couldn't help but remember the last words I spoke to him on the night of the senior prom when he approached me for a dance.
"When you have more money than I do, plus a yacht and private island, I'll not only give you a dance, I promise to marry you!"
I walked away on the arm of the richest boy in our school, laughing scornfully for all to hear.
"Mr. Conner, your table is ready." The beautiful hostess smiled respectfully toward the man in front of me.
He gave her a brief nod while never taking his eyes off me. Then his next words confounded me completely.
"I'll see you Monday morning at 10 o'clock."
I stared at his back as he casually turned and followed the hostess.
Thankfully, Mila chose that moment to make her entrance. The rest of the evening, I spent listening to the animated account of her latest shopping spree.
* * *
Monday morning's cleaning schedule was tighter than usual and I was already exhausted when I sat down at 9:45 for my morning break. I joined three other co-workers and took my first sip of coffee at the same time as a voice at the door said, "Is there a Shandy Morton here?"
I choked on my coffee but managed to lift my hand for identity.
"Please follow me, Miss Morton. You're wanted on the top floor at 10:00."
All I could do was nod and fall in line, trying to match her purposeful stride. Everyone knew that the top floor held the private office and penthouse apartment of the owner of "Z" Corp, Nathaniel Conner.
What more bad luck can be headed my way?
The woman escorted me to a private elevator. Her parting words did nothing to alleviate my growing tension.
"This will take you to the top floor where you are expected."
When the elevator stopped and its doors retracted, the man I least wanted to see stood in front of me.
He stepped inside the elevator and pushed the bottom button to the parking garage. Then turned and handed me a large envelope and business card.
Speechless, I looked at the card.
T. Nathaniel Conner, Owner "Z" Corp
He remained silent until I lifted my eyes to his.
"The envelope contains the deeds to my yacht and private island. And as to having more money than you, well..." He glanced at my uniform and housekeeping badge pinned neatly over the shirt pocket.
When we reached the parking garage, I finally regained my voice. "Where are you taking me?"
"I believe you're holding proof that I've met your requirements, and now I'm taking possession of what you promised. "
"What promise?"
He smirked. "Don't think for a minute that I believe you don't remember."
He was right, of course, I did remember my last words. "When you have more money than I do, plus a yacht and private island, I'll not only give you a dance, I promise to marry you!"
"In my pocket is a special license, which we'll use as soon as we reach Judge Lockhart's office. In less than an hour, you'll be my wife."
"But, but..." I stammered.
"No buts. I'm not the boy you easily brushed off eight years ago. I'm a man that can and will collect on the promise you made."
He was right. There was nothing boyish about his manner or the determination in his voice.
Then the biggest shock yet set my mind reeling.
I felt safe for the first time in five years.
I glanced to the side and caught a glow that warmed his blue eyes before he had time to shutter it. That warmth opened the door to a future never imagined. Suddenly, I wanted to know the heart of this man who loved me with such passion and constancy.
No, he hadn't said those words yet, but he couldn't completely hide the message his eyes spoke.
