Stolen Heart (Bride of the Billionaire)
I’m trembling as I find my clothes and put them on, and then I’m shaken as the sound of a phone ringing blares throughout the house.
“Jesus!” I cry out, literally leaping into the air. I spin and spot a phone headset on the wall and quickly thumb the answer-call button. “Yes!?”
“Miss Alden?” a male voice asks.
“Yes? Speaking?”
“Mr. Duke regrets to inform you that he has an important matter to attend to. A car will be arriving shortly to take you to the airport, where a plane will take y
ou home.”
“Wait!” I scream. “What—what are you talking about? A matter? He was arrested, wasn’t he? Who am I talking to? When will I see Zander again?”
There’s a long pause that I feel in my chest. “Mr. Duke thanks you for your time together, but it will not be possible for you to meet with him again. Thank you.”
“Wait!” I shout, but the call ends with a click that causes tears to spill from my eyes. My legs collapse out from under me as a sense of loss I never could have known fills my insides.
Painful sobs spill from my lips as a chill fills me. Who was that on the phone? Surely Zander didn’t tell him to speak that way to me.
Did he?
I couldn’t have been played. No. Not Zander. The way he spoke to me—the look in his eyes. I can spot a forgery, and those were real emotions I saw, not a player doing his thing.
But then why the phone call? Why wouldn’t he just call me and tell me what happened? If he’s been arrested, he is allowed to do that, isn’t he? Or he could easily pass a message on.
It doesn’t make sense.
I feel my heart beginning to crack, and when I hear the sound of the car pulling up outside, I feel it shatter.
The rest of my day is a blur, and not just because I’m looking at the world through tears. A man in a suit brings me to the car and drives me to the airport. The same plane that took me here takes me back to New York and drops me off at my apartment. My roommate, Tracy, is visiting her family this weekend, so I find myself crawling into bed alone, my head hurting from how much I’ve been crying, and my chest filled with a burning hatred for the man who convinced me he was in love.
Fuck it. I’ll just sleep for the next week.
But then my phone rings. It’s work, and no matter how much I don’t want to talk to anyone or see anyone right now, I have to answer. I’m not rich like Zander. I don’t have the luxury of making my own schedule.
“Yes?” I manage to groan into the phone.
“We need you to come in tonight, Amory. Jeff called in sick.”
“Ask Tony.”
“We need you.” It’s Janice. I hate her, and she’s not going to do me any favors no matter what I say. “See you at nine.”
Click.
I go through my routine getting ready and realize that I’ve left my coveralls at Zander’s house. Great, that’s going to come out of my paycheck.
The subway ride to work feels lonelier than ever. I glance over at a happy couple, college students by the look of them, cuddled up on the bench across the car from me, and actually resent them. I feel bad for doing so, but I can’t help it.
They’re in love. I thought I was. Or maybe I still am, but that love was unreturned. It wasn’t real. Nothing more than a master forgery, and I fell for it.
I check in with Janice, who seems to delight in my misery as she pulls three hours’ worth of pay out of my next check to replace my coveralls, and then I get to work. After forty-five minutes, I turn a corner and find myself back at the place where it all began.
The area beneath the skylight has been cordoned off. With hatred in my heart, I look up at the skylight and am instantly taken back to the moment when I was pulled into the air and swept away by the man who was not only able to steal a Picasso from the Met, but was able to steal my heart as well.
As I look up, it’s almost like I can see him there, standing on the roof, smiling down at me. It’s like I can see the rope snaking down to the floor in front of me and feel the evening air on my face.
Chris, am I daydreaming? Am I on something?