Catch My Breath

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  I sighed, drumming my fingers. The caption below the photo gave me hives.

  Ratings High: WMZB’s producer Lia Meyers gives the competition a tongue-lashing. An eagle-eyed passer by caught her in a racy lip lock with British media mogul Alastair Holden. His company purchased the city’s second place news station, WTDO, in recent weeks. Meyers recently broke off her two year relationship with Nathan Greyson, son of Florida Republican Senator Kenneth Greyson. Stay tuned…

  I almost hyperventilated.

  “Oh my God, Lia.” Sydney stood next to me, staring at the screen slack jawed. “Is that really you?”

  Grinding my teeth to within an inch of the gums, I responded as evenly as possible.

  “Yes.”

  “Wow. I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”

  “I’m not. We’ve been out a couple of times. It’s nothing to get too excited about.”

  I stared at the screen for a few more seconds before closing the page. A brief scan of the newsroom revealed everyone still working diligently. Sydney kept talking to me while she sat down at her desk. Half paying attention, I answered some of her questions. The messaging line on the rundown dinged.

  Well, well. So nice of you to grace us with your presence today, Ms. Society Section.

  Rolling my eyes, I glanced up and caught Tyler smirking in my direction. Great, here he comes.

  "You enjoy this crap way too much, Tyler."

  “Did you pick him up in a souvenir store?"

  “Ha, ha.”

  I tried to convince him and Sydney, and by this time the handful of reporters that had gathered around my desk, there wasn’t any need to get all worked up over the photo. It wasn’t a big deal.

  Whatever.

  Even I didn’t believe the load of shit coming out of my mouth.

  Thankfully we had a show to produce, providing a much needed distraction for everyone. I kept my phone with me in the control room during the broadcast. I hadn’t heard from Alastair and was curious if he’d seen the photo. He was such a private person, I’d imagine he wouldn’t be too thrilled. I sent him a quick text.

  6:10pm Seems we’re internet famous

  6:12pm So I’ve heard

  6:13pm Have you seen it?

  6:16pm No. But I hear I’m one lucky guy. Everyone is talking about the knockout in the purple dress

  6:18pm Knockout? I saw her. She’s alright. And the dress is lavender, FYI

  6:21pm Duly noted. Aren’t you supposed to be producing a live show now?

  6:23pm I am. I’m a multitasker

  6:24pm Focus on your job. I’m coming soon.

  He was even bossy via text. I shook my head. I planned to get to the bottom of a few things with him tonight.

  The final few minutes of the show were a blur. An excited drone of goodbyes filled the control room. I slipped out and went back to my desk to gather a few things before leaving. For the time being, the inquiry into my salacious morning snog on the sidewalk ended.

  Paxton waited for me next to the car. He stood in that casual-but-ready-to-jump-into-action stance; hands loosely clasped below the waist, feet shoulder length apart. He smiled as I approached and opened the door. Alastair scrolled through his phone while I settled in next to him. He seemed relaxed. The atmosphere was much calmer between us than earlier. He slid the phone into his pocket and grabbed my hand, kissing the knuckles.

  I let out a huge sigh.

  “Rough day?” he asked.

  “Not particularly. Just dodging questions from everyone under the sun about you and our public display of affection.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. It’s the nature of the news beast,” I commented as we pulled into traffic. “How was your day?”

  “Better now that you’re here.” He stroked my palm. As much as I adored his caresses, something was still off. We sat quietly for the duration of the ride. Alastair hopped out to open the door for me when we arrived at the restaurant.

  "Are you hungry?"

  My stomach rumbled. “Always.”

  "Well then,” he chuckled, “let's get inside.”

  The hostess sat us in a corner booth, tucked away from everyone. The menu looked amazing. There was everything from pizza to pasta to seafood to sandwiches. When the server came over to take our order, Alastair piped up quickly, requesting bruschetta and a margherita pizza to share. He also ordered himself a McEwan's Scotch Ale and a glass of red wine for me.

  "Do you always order for others or did you think I'd be too indecisive?" I grumbled.

  “I don’t want you to have to worry about making any decisions tonight. That includes dinner.”

  Shaking my head, I glanced around the restaurant. It was warm and friendly, with rich dark wood floors and soft, red velvet covered booths. No sooner had we placed the order, the food arrived at our table. We both dove into it. True to form, I managed to stomach two pieces of bruschetta and one and a half pieces of pizza, much to Alastair's immense pleasure. I was craving carbs, so this food was heaven in a hand basket.

  “Been for a jog recently?” he teased.

  “Hey, be nice,” I warned.

  We finished the rest of our meal in comfortable silence. Alastair paid the bill and led me back out to the waiting car. I had no idea where we were going next and watched the artificially illuminated scenery fly by. Lost in thought, I didn’t even notice when Paxton parked along the curb near Lake Eola.

  There were some people strolling through the park but not many. It was close to ten at night and I suspected more people would be downtown at a bar than at the lake. Alastair was quiet as we walked side by side toward the water.

  "Is this where you were in that photo? The one from last summer?”

  "We were on the opposite side of the lake huddled under some trees. This over here is the amphitheater," I pointed to my right. "And down a bit to the left are the infamous swan boats."

  Alastair looked at me curiously. "Swan boats?"

  "Yep. Come with me. I'll show you." I led him to a small dock surrounded by white boats shaped like giant swans. "See? People can rent them during the day and paddle around the lake."

  "Interesting."

  "Oh come on, it's fun. You stuffy Brits need a little something like this to loosen up." I jabbed him in the side.

  "Stuffy Brits? I see."

  Taking my hand in his, we strolled lazily along the water’s edge. The park looked mysterious, but still inviting in the dark. Stopping under a large cluster of palm trees, he turned to me.

  “I go back to England tomorrow night.”

  Hearing that hurt more than I thought it would.

  “Why not Glasgow?”

  “There’s a board meeting in London on Thursday to make the final decision on who will take over from my grandfather.”

  “Any good candidates?”

  “Me.”

  “Really? That’s great.” I was genuinely excited for him. He stared blankly out at the lake. Fantastic. More stoic, hard-to-read Alastair.

  A rustling near the trees made both of us look toward the source of the sound. Not seeing anything, I sat on a nearby bench.

  “Have a seat,” I said, patting the metal.

  He obliged, still wearing an unreadable expression.

  “There’s going to be a garden party at my family’s estate after the announcement for CEO is made public. You should come with me.”

  My throat dried up.

  “To England?”

  “Yes.”

  “For the party?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

  “When is it?”

  “Next weekend.”

  “Next…this is really short notice,” I stammered. “I can’t just take time off like that.”

  "You don't have to give me an answer this second." He twisted strands of my hair around his finger. "Think about it."

  My brain was so overloaded I thought it was going to ooz
e out of my ears. Everything was still happening at warp speed. Yes, I liked him. A lot. And yes, I might have spurred things on a bit too much this past weekend. Before I let anything else happen, I had to get answers to several questions that had been burning a hole in my memory.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” he answered, not moving.

  “Who were you on the phone with at the hotel the other day?”

  "No one of consequence.” His response was clipped. The look in his eyes urged me to move on from this line of questioning. Too bad I wasn’t deterred by a chilly glance.

  “Was it the same thing you had to take care of that night at the cocktail party?”

  His stare was glacial. I held my ground, not moving a muscle.

  “Yes,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Ah ha. Now we’re getting somewhere.

  I got bolder.

  “The nightmare you had…” I paused, struck by the sheer terror behind his eyes. “Who don’t you want to leave?”

  Every last ounce of Alastair's fair skin drained of color. He turned an ashy gray.

  “It doesn’t matter. It was just a dream.”

  I tried a different angle.

  “What did you mean by it was your fault?”

  A visible tremor streaked through his statuesque facade.

  “Nothing.”

  I was at the end of my rope with all his vague responses. “For crying out loud, Alastair. Just tell me."

  Furious green eyes punctured a hole in my skull, unhinging me. The intensity burned straight to my soul.

  "Leave it alone, Lia," he bit out acidly.

  The malevolence that seeped out of him was brutal. I’d never seen anyone so angry, not even Nathan. I desperately needed to get away from him, from those eyes, from that anger. The only thing I could do was muster up tears. Lots of them. They burned my cheeks, streaking down my neck like clear rivers of lava. I wanted to run, but couldn’t relay the message to my legs fast enough.

  Alastair choked out a breath, reaching for me. I cowered away, repulsed.

  “Please, I’m sorry,” he whispered, slumping his shoulders. The suit seemed to swallow him whole. His body withered against the bench, defeated. “Please look at me.”

  I stood up, unsteady and shaking. “I have to go.”

  My legs were moving, but I wasn’t controlling them. They carried me to the street. Tears blurred my vision, making it difficult to find a taxi. I did see the SUV idling at the curb. I froze, turning my back in an effort to hide in plain sight from Paxton. Squeezing the tears out of my eyes, I swallowed hard and ran away from the SUV, the park, everything. I only stopped when I reached an intersection. Leaning against a light post, I gasped for breath.

  What I am doing? Running aimlessly through the city? That’s good, Lia. That’s intelligent.

  Wiping my eyes, I stood up straight and kept walking until I managed to hail a cab. The first thing I did when I got home was fill the tub with hot water and bubbles. My body ached. I undressed and stepped in the water, lowering myself into the warm oasis. Sore muscles and tired limbs welcomed the silky heat as I leaned back. For a brief second, I forgot about Alastair and his fucked up secrets, whatever they were.

  Steam rose off the water, fogging the mirror. I imagined that was what my brain looked like; a foggy, clouded mess that needed wiping. Sinking lower, the bubbles knitted together over my breasts and shoulders. Only my head remained above water, but just barely.

  * * *

  “I need to see you. Are you home?”

  I gripped the phone in my hand, cursing myself for answering it. “Yeah. I’m about to go to bed.”

  “Ten minutes. All I need is ten minutes,” Alastair negotiated.

  “It’s late. I don’t think—“

  “Please, Lia.”

  “Fine.”

  Twenty minutes later, he was sitting in my living room, failing to mask his nerves. Just the sight of him sent me into a tizzy. He’d changed into sweatpants and a fleece shirt, looking more like a dejected puppy than a powerful businessman. The only spark of control I saw was in his eyes. They were hard as stone.

  “I wish you hadn’t run off like that. I don’t want you wandering the city alone late at night,” he scowled.

  “Wrong way to start this conversation,” I scolded, standing with my arms crossed.

  Keeping his eyes glued to me, he started to say something, then stopped. I remained statuesque, glaring at him.

  “What is this, a battle of wills?” he inquired, rising to his feet. “I didn’t come here to exchange heated stares with you all night.”

  “Then leave.”

  Rubbing his chest, he paced the room.

  “I shouldn’t have answered you so harshly at the park. For that, I sincerely apologize. What you asked is something…it's complicated. Please understand."

  "That's all you had to say in the first place," I snapped.

  "I know, I’m…I don’t usually have someone sleeping next to me when I have that nightmare. You were…you are the first girl I’ve brought to my house and shared my bed with for the night.”

  “What?”

  He half-smiled. “It’s one of the conditions I have along with the no-dating thing. No sleeping over.”

  I massaged my temples. It did nothing to soothe the tremendous pounding in my head.

  “Lia, look at me,” he pleaded, holding my hands. “I meant it when I told you that you’re different from everyone who’s been a part of my life. I don’t know what it is about you. I’ve wracked my brain, I’ve replayed our time together…I can’t…” He threw his head back, exhaling loudly.

  “You make me feel things I’ve spent the majority of my life avoiding. I have a system,” he asserted, pacing the room again. “Then you showed up in your pretty dress and tripped on the bloody carpet. Not to mention when you stumbled on the sidewalk and used my car as a way to right yourself.”

  I gasped. “You were in the car?”

  “Yes. You looked right at me when you peered through the window. You must not have seen me thanks to the tint.”

  “Unbelievable.”

  He locked his fingers through mine, trying hard to retain control of his emotions.

  “I don’t want to leave tomorrow with you upset or angry at me. I was a right prat for treating you that way," he stated simply.

  "Obviously," I said. “Don’t let it happen again.”

  Smiling, he put my hands on his hips, then snaked his arms around my waist. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

  “Not quite.”

  He lifted my hand, kissing each fingertip. Every touch of his lips sent a bolt of lightning down my spine. “This thing we have…I want it to be exclusive.”

  Exclusive…?

  “Amelia.” His husky whisper made the hairs on my arms stand up.

  “Are you ready for all this? I mean, it’s more than just sharing dessert or having amazing sex on my couch.”

  Alastair raised an eyebrow and nuzzled my neck. “Amazing sex, huh?” He pressed his lips along my collarbone, slowly moving his hands over my hips. “Yes, I’m ready.” His breath was humid and warm.

  “Are you? It could get messy.”

  “Stop talking, love,” he ordered, kissing me quiet.

  “Wait.” I pulled back. “Stop kissing me. Alastair…Stop.”

  He looked at me in amazement.

  “You use your powers of seduction too much. I can’t think.”

  “I like being close to you,” he murmured, running his fingers down my neck. “I like touching you and feeling you against me.” He was too potent. Combine that with the soft glow radiating from his eyes and I was nothing but a pile of goo in his arms.

  Bowing my head, I squeezed his shoulders in frustration.

  “Lia, before your brain spins off its axis can we come to a mutual agreement on something?"

  Looking up, I nodded.

  "Good. We both have hang ups about dating. I’ve alre
ady managed to royally screw this up. I don’t plan on doing that again. Can we just agree not to doom this whole thing before it even starts?”

  “You were angry with me for asking a question. I’m not putting up with that nonsense.”

  Taking a few steps back, he scrubbed his face with his hands before running them though his hair. “I’m not used to anyone asking me those things. It doesn’t excuse the way I reacted, but … ”

  Any traces of his impenetrable exterior vanished. He was a raw nerve, standing exposed in my living room.

  “I like the way I feel when I’m with you. Can that be enough for now?”

  “What are you so afraid of, Alastair?”

  Moving closer, he cradled my jaw. Our eyes locked. I couldn’t look away if I’d wanted. The overwhelming desire that filled his eyes was powerful. Nobody had ever looked at me this way. Enveloping me in a hug, he sighed. I buried my face in his shirt, inhaling his scent.

  "Come to England," he whispered. "I want to see you again."

  Feelings I never experienced before erupted, lighting up my soul. The euphoria lasted a brief second, as paralyzing fear sunk in, making my heart race. I’ll disappoint him. My insecurities would hijack any chance I had at making this work.

  “Let go, love,” he said, his words dripping in my ear like honey. “You’re feisty, bold, sexy and strong-willed. I like that about you. I want you always to be that confident with me.”

  Ignoring the fluttering in my throat, I raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bit ironic.”

  “What is?”

  “You telling me to let go and all that. How can you expect me to do it if you’re not willing to do the same?”

  “I never said I wasn’t willing,” he answered. “You may not like what you learn.”

  I expected him to shrink back into his shell, but he didn’t. He remained exposed, gazing at me with quiet intensity. Overwhelmed by the events of the weekend and tonight, I made a brash decision without a second thought. It was the first time I’d done that in over two years.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Time, the abstract wonder that it was, taunted me with its clever little mind games. One minute it crawled, the next it sprinted. The only time I applauded it was at the airport when I said goodbye to Alastair. It came to a dead stop.