CHAPTER ONE
FIND ME
By Laurelin Paige
Chapter One
“Test today was negative,” Laynie said as I walked in the office, not
bothering with any greeting. “I’m never going
to get pregnant, Gwen.”
I dropped my purse on the couch and bit the inside of my cheek before I
responded so that I didn’t laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. It was a big fat minus sign. Which means negative. Not
pregnant. No baby. Infertile. Nothing’s growing
in this soil.”
I couldn’t help myself—I laughed. “It’s been two
months since you started trying. That’s not
even long enough to let the Depo run out of your system yet, is it? Have you
even had a period?”
Alayna—Laynie—had only gotten married in April to Hudson Pierce, one
of the country’s richest men under thirty and the owner of The
Sky Launch, the club where we worked together as co-managers. I hadn’t heard a word about her wanting children the
whole time they’d been engaged, but by the time she’d come home from the honeymoon, she was in full
family-planning mode. Technically my boss, Laynie’s most notable trait was her ability to focus
intently on a project until it was completed. In other words, she was a little
obsessive.
It was actually a great characteristic when it came to work. She
always thought of everything, never missing a detail. Her brain worked on
overdrive, and while she liked to talk incessantly about business, her passion
and creative ideas made sure the subject never grew old.
An obsessive partner was good for me, really. Besides my family and
friendship with Laynie, work was all I had to fill my time. Well, pretty much
all I had. And since she and the other two important people in my life—my
sister Norma and my brother Ben—had significant others, I spent a lot of time
focused on my job. It definitely helped with the loneliness.
But now Laynie was obsessed with having a baby.
God, I knew nothing about babies. Or pregnancy. Or marriage. Or being
so in love and committed to a person that I wanted to procreate with him.
Somehow the constant talk about it made me feel more alone than ever. And she
hadn’t even conceived yet. What the hell would it feel
like when she actually had another human to fixate on?
“I have not had a period yet,” Laynie said as I crossed over to my
desk, which was set at a perpendicular angle to hers. “And that makes it even
harder to guess when I’m supposed to
test. But I had all the symptoms of ovulation two weeks ago—the raised
temperature, the change in cervical fluid and firmness. That means I should
have started today. But since I didn’t, it’s possible I’m still pregnant and the test just didn’t say it yet—right?”
“You’re not really asking me that, are you?” I slumped
into my chair and logged into my computer as I spoke. “Because you know I have
zero knowledge about anything related to conception.”
“But I just told you everything you need to know on the subject. I
should be having a period. I’m not. Test
says negative. Those contradict. So I could be pregnant. Right?”
“Sounds like you answered the question on your own.” I could sense she
was about to protest, so before she did, I added, “Hey. You’re on your own with this. I can’t give you any insight or opinion. Now if you
want to talk about narrowing down the selections for the new chef, I can say
plenty.”
She opened her mouth to say something then shut it. When she opened it
again, she said, “I’m obsessing,
aren’t I?”
I put my thumb and forefinger up and indicated an inch. “Little bit.”
She groaned and dropped her forehead to her desk.
“Aw. Don’t beat yourself up. I know it’s frustrating. You decided you wanted something
and now you can’t see anything else.” Man, did I know how that
felt. But I also knew that life could go on through waiting. Even when the wait
was indefinite.
At least she didn’t have to do
the waiting alone.
I stopped myself from saying that, afraid it would come out bitter,
and it wasn’t her I was bitter at. “It’s going to take time.
Didn’t the doctor say it might be a year before your
reproductive system was reset?”
Her head still down, she let out another muffled groan edged with an
exaggerated sob.
“I’m not saying it will take that long. Just…be patient.” Easier said then done. I knew that. “Meanwhile,
keep trying. Have as much fun as you can being a newlywed.”
She sat up abruptly, her brown hair flying from the movement. “Oh,
believe me, we’re trying. All. The. Time.” She waggled her brows
and her suddenly upbeat tone suggested she was next going to erupt into a
sordid tale from her insanely abundant sex life.
Her stories had only recently begun to induce a streak of envy that
blazed hot and fierce inside me, but I refused to let her know. Once they
brought to mind vivid memories of my own—of the man I was waiting for, of the
way he and I had been whenever we were together. I’d liked those memories. They’d given me something to hold onto. Something to
look forward to.
Now they only reminded me of what I didn’t have.
But I forced an encouraging smile, preferring her spicy talk to her
baby disappointment. “Please, Laynie. Don’t act as
if you’re doing it any more than you were when you
weren’t trying. You two have sex drives that are insatiable.”
She grinned. “It’s H. He can go
forever. This morning, he woke me up before five, and he still was only half
dressed when his driver rang the bell at a quarter to eight. The Pierce stamina…I
tell you…”
“No, don’t. I can barely look at
him with all I know as it is.”
“I’m just saying I bet there’s a cousin or something we could fix you up
with.” She winked.
It was my turn to groan. “Please, no.” As for Pierce stamina, I had a
feeling it was more Hudson stamina. I certainly hadn’t found my own Pierce lover to be able to go very
long. Though, perhaps that was just because of their differences in age.
And that little extracurricular arrangement was not one I was sharing
with anyone, least of all my coworker. It was embarrassing and wrong—on
so many levels, not just because of the years between he and me. I was sure
Laynie and I were close enough friends that she wouldn’t judge or scold, but still. I felt guilty. As I
should. I should feel every rotten feeling from shame to disgust to remorse.
Laynie would tell me I was being ridiculous. She’d said before that I couldn’t waste my life away waiting for someone who had
obviously flat-out disappeared. And maybe a part of me agreed. Maybe that was
why I’d let that other Pierce work his way into my
life. Into my bed.
But I hadn’t let him
anywhere near my heart, because no matter how much time had passed, it belonged
to someone else.
“Fine. No setting you up with Hudson’s family. As soon as you say the word, though, I’m fixing you up with someone. Just let me know
when you’re ready.”
I chewed on my bottom lip and gave her a tight, “Mmhmm,” pretending to be distracted with what was on my screen.
Thank goodness she couldn’t view it from
where she sat or she’d see that I
was staring at the desktop. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to discuss the topic, necessarily. I just
didn’t know what else to say to her. “Don’t bother, I’m hopeless,” would only urge her to convince me otherwise. And I didn’t want convincing. Because as far as I was
concerned, I’d never be ready.
“Well, whenever.”
I felt her staring at me for a few seconds before I heard the
clickety-click of her fingers on her keyboard. She really was thoughtful to try
like she did. It was just still difficult for me to know how to deal with
people who cared about me besides Norma and Ben. People like Alayna and Hudson
and Boyd—Norma’s boyfriend—and Eric, my brother’s fiancé. It hadn’t been that long since I’d been closed off to everyone, shut up inside,
unwilling to let go or let others in, and it was sometimes awkward to respond
to the attention. Which was silly, probably. It wasn’t like I’d turned
into the captain of the cheerleading squad in terms of social life or anything.
But I’d definitely changed. And that took getting used
to.
Alayna wasn’t pushing,
thankfully. That meant I was off the hook, and I willed my attention to turn to
work.
I let out a long breath and opened up the shared folder on my computer
labeled Restaurant. While I was mainly in charge of operations and
Laynie was in charge of marketing and human resources, we found our best
innovative ideas happened together. So even though she primarily worked days
and I worked nights, we made sure our hours overlapped several times a week so
that we could collaborate and touch base. Friday nights we ran the club
together. She wasn’t needed
then—we had more than enough qualified managers to cover all the shifts without
her having to take a weekend night—but she said it kept her in touch with what made
the club thrive. Frankly, I was surprised Hudson let her work when he wasn’t at the office. He was as controlling as she was
obsessive. Somehow the two made it work. Perfectly, even.
However they did it, I was grateful that we had shifts together. Besides
being a good friend, she was an amazing businesswoman. She had worked at The
Sky Launch for several years, but she’d only
taken over as manager at about the same time I did. I’d been impressed from day one with her plans for
expansion of the nightclub, including her idea to highlight the club’s best feature—the private bubble rooms on the
second story that overlooked the dance floor below. We’d focused on bringing in more small parties,
partnering with various businesses around town and starting a citywide
promotion campaign through one of the best advertising firms in NYC.
Recently we’d moved our
focus to her idea of having a restaurant on the premises during the day hours.
The last club I’d worked at, Eighty-Eighth Floor, had a similar
model of day-to-night presence that we’d tweaked
to bring to The Sky Launch. Presently, we were looking at chefs.
“Did you confirm with Fuschia MacDonahough for tomorrow?” I asked,
looking at our To-Do List. For months, we’d met
every Thursday for dinner at the penthouse she had with Hudson. It was our
chance to hang out in a non-work setting, though for the last couple of weeks,
we’d added a bit of the job to the routine by
bringing in one of the chefs on our short list of potential hires to prepare
the meal so we could audition their cooking.
The recurring date had strengthened our friendship. Norma, my sister,
sometimes joined us, and every now and then Ben and Eric as well. We’d become a family of sorts, pieces of broken
people coming together like a patchwork quilt. It was a night that I looked
forward to with as much intensity as I dreaded the loneliness of the Wednesday
night that preceded it.
“Yep. Then next week we’ve got Jordan
Chase confirmed. After that we’re going to
have to make a decision.”
Her brow wrinkled, and I prayed she didn’t go where I sensed she was going.
“Jordan Chase,” she said again. “That could be what JC stands for.”
And there she’d gone.
JC.
“JC wasn’t a cook.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.” And the C likely stood
for a middle name, definitely not his last. Of the few things he’d told me, one had been his last name—Bruzzo. I’d kept that information to myself like most of
what he’d told me that final time I’d seen him.
“His name could still be Jordan.” Good old Laynie. Obsessing again. “I
kind of like that. It has a nice ring.”
If I had the strength, I’d let her
ramble on and not react.
But I had no strength when it came to JC, and Alayna knew it.
I twisted my seat toward her and glared.
She was staring out into space though and missed my evil eye. “Gwen
and Jordan. Jordan and Gwen. I like that. Real catchy.” Finally, she looked at
me. “What?”
“One minute you want to fix me up with someone, the next you’re bringing up JC. Do you want me with him or
not?”
“I don’t want either. I mean, I
want you happy. And from what you’ve said about
this guy, I think he makes you happy. So I wish he would come the fuck back
from wherever he disappeared to and do that.”
Me too.
I didn’t want to go down this road tonight. I nodded and
hoped she’d take my cue when I swiveled back toward my
screen.
She didn’t. “But if he’s not going to come back…”
“Then you think I should move on. I know, I know.” She’d told me enough times in enough ways for me to
feel like I understood her position on the matter.
She surprised me, though, saying, “I’m torn, Gwen. He sounds amazing. Perfect for you.
And after everything Hudson and I went through, I believe that love can
overcome incredible obstacles.”
Nice sentiment. I wanted to believe it too. “But our only obstacle is
that he isn’t here.” Well, that and he’d gotten married to someone else in Vegas while
he was too drunk to know what he was doing. That was another thing I hadn’t told Alayna.
“Exactly. He has to be here. And he’s not. So you need to make a decision about how
long you’re going to wait for him. How much of your life
is worth letting pass by while you wait for him to show up? What if he never
shows up?”
It was the question I asked myself every day.
The answer was, I’d be lost. I was
lost. Because of him, I was open and looser and closer to happy than I’d been for most of my life. But the heart of
me—the part that believed in love and ever after and sweet kisses and
romance—that part of me was lost.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever completely found it. I’d glimpsed it, though. Seen pieces of myself that
had hinted it was inside me. If it really was there, I knew without a doubt I
wouldn’t find it for real without him. Without JC.
But Alayna had a point. How long could I wait before at least
pretending to move on?
“I don’t know,” I said with raw
sincerity.
Laynie was silent for a moment, and I could hear the wheels in her
head turning. “I get you,” she said finally, “I do. I’ve wasted so much time on less promising
relationships than yours, and the ways I coped were far less healthy than you
simply taking yourself off the market. But Lauren, my favorite therapist, used
to say that sometimes we aren’t even
interested in the thing we’re after
anymore. We’ve just gotten in the habit of focusing on it.”
Was that what JC had become for me? Merely a habit?
I didn’t want to think that was all he was. But if he’d taught me anything, it was that living in the
past was not living at all.
I’d never struggled with addiction, yet now I felt
like I had a smidgeon of an idea of what it must have been like for Alayna when
she’d had to face her obsessive tendencies over men.
How hard it must have been to finally try to “quit.” It was why my father had never been able to
put down the bottle and why he’d turned to
heroin—because it was that hard to give up the thing that you lived for.
In the same way, it was nearly impossible for me to think about giving
up JC, even when he’d only become
a memory.
And with that clarity, I realized that was exactly what I had to
do—give him up. Because I didn’t want to be
anything like my father.
Laynie was right. I had to check in to JC Anonymous. I had to quit.
Tentatively I asked, “What would this Dr. Lauren of yours say is the way to
stop?”
“Well.” She was just as
tentative in her answer, all too aware of the difficulty it took for me to even
think about “quitting.” “She’d suggest setting a date. A date that you plan to
quit waiting, or in my case, obsessing, and then on that date, you stop. Like a
job. Hand in your notice today and know that this is all the time you have left
before you move on.”
“So I should pick a date to be over JC? That sounds a little
simplistic, doesn’t it?”
“It does. But it works.” She thought for a second then corrected
herself. “Or it helps anyway. Nothing really works except not giving
up.”
I twisted my lips, considering what she’d said. It would be easy to apply her words to
reasons to not quit JC. If I truly believed we could be together then I
shouldn’t
give up.
But it had been almost a year since he’d left me. Almost twelve months since he’d told me that he was the key witness in a
murder. That he had to go into protection until the trial. I had no way of
knowing when the trial would end, and when it did, he was the one who had to
find me. Which could prove difficult since I’d left every part of my old life in my own need
for protection. In my case, protection from my father.
I had faith that he could find me. But would he look? Because, yes, I
still had feelings for him, but really, when I thought about it logically, it
was ridiculous that I did. Because in the seven months I’d known him before he left, our relationship
really only added up to a total of two weeks time together. Ninety-five percent
of that had been just sex. So what was it I was actually waiting around for? A
man who had openly loved me for the space of…what? A day and a half? That and
good sex. Amazingly good sex.
It wasn’t enough to justify being stuck for so long.
And if he actually did love me like he’d said he did, I had a feeling he’d say the same thing.
There was only one smart thing to do.
I looked down at the keyboard where my fingers were absentmindedly
tapping over and over on the same two letters—J and C.
No. I couldn’t live like
this forever.
I pulled my hands into my lap and sat back in my chair. “The Fourth.”
I’d been silent long enough that Laynie took a
moment to register my meaning. “Of July?”
I swallowed. “Yeah. Independence Day. Sounds like a good day to let
someone go.”
She nodded, her expression somber, her eyes both compassionate and
hopeful. “It sounds perfect,” she said. “A total celebration. We’re all going to be on Hudson’s boat for the night. We’ll watch the fireworks and everyone will think
they’re going off for this big patriotic holiday
thing, and only we will know they’re really just
for you.”
The year before, I’d spent the
holiday watching the fireworks alone, missing JC with every fiber of my being.
Yet somehow this year’s celebration
sounded even lonelier.
“Perfect,” I said. I’d expected to
feel a weight lifted from me, but instead, it felt almost suffocating to commit
to this new plan. Felt like something inside of me was tightening and
constricting, making it hard to breathe. Like my lungs were full of sand and my
heart that had once been open was starting to close.
FIND ME is the HIGHLY ANTICIPATED sequel to FREE ME and
the Conclusion of Gwen and JC's Story and will be available on August
25th!
PRE-ORDER YOUR COPY AT:
Blurb
Gwen Anders came to The Sky Launch to begin fresh, away
from the horrors of her past. She fit in quickly, becoming good friends with
her co-manager, Alayna Withers and the owner of the club, Hudson Pierce. Though
the circumstances that brought her here were not the best, she's never felt
more at home.
But starting a new life means letting go. And there are
some things she doesn't want to leave behind - like JC, the man who taught her
how to let loose. The man she wasn't supposed to fall in love with. The man she
doesn't want to lose.
Now, with the reason she ran still a threat, Gwen fears
she'll never be able to move on completely. And if she does, can she still hold
out hope that JC loves her enough to come and find her?
Haven’t read this series yet, check out FREE ME for
ONLY $0.99!
About the Author:
NY Times & USA Today Bestselling
author Laurelin Paige is a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime
there’s kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband
doesn’t seem to complain, however. When she isn’t reading or writing sexy
stories, she’s probably singing, watching Mad Men and the Walking Dead, or
dreaming of Adam Levine. She is represented by Bob Diforio of D4EO Literary
Agency.
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