Sin City Vows. Zuri Day
I was a freshman in college. He’s eight years older than me. I was young, dumb, impressionable and thrilled to get the attention of an older, successful man. Mere weeks into dating, he gave me a ring. A promise ring that we both assumed would lead to an engagement. But it didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because in time I realized that Ed’s well-put-together image was a facade hiding a controlling narcissist who was verbally abusive. I gave back the ring and ended the relationship. I don’t think he ever got over it. Ed’s an only child used to getting what he wants.”
“Your parents didn’t know?”
“They knew we’d dated but not why we broke up. I never told them about anything—the verbal and emotional abuse, his anger issues, definitely not about the ring. Our parents are friends and I didn’t want to cause trouble between them. Anyway, a while back, I heard that he’d been boasting about an upcoming engagement to a young, naive but really pretty girl. Something happened and the relationship abruptly ended. And then...”
Victoria raised a brow but remained silent.
“He tried to get me back, tried to force me into a relationship by reminding me of the promise I’d made and admitting his fault in our not working out. When I rebuffed his overtures, things got ugly.”
“How so?”
“He demanded that I marry him, and if I didn’t comply, he threatened to make things difficult for my family. Of course I told him hell would freeze over before I got involved with him again.” She released a quavering breath. “I don’t know what he told my dad, but now two men are trying to force my hand.”
“Did you ask Paul why?”
“Yes, and Dad’s answers don’t make sense, nor does the chummy friendship that seems to exist between them. In the past few months they’ve really ramped up the pressure. This break is a godsend, so thanks again.”
The women paused as Sofia returned bearing a tray of warm homemade rolls, a pitcher of juice and a crystal bowl filled with the spinach and quinoa salad that Victoria had requested. When conversation resumed, the topic shifted from Lauren’s personal life to the freelance marketing work she’d handled over the past twelve months and the professional duties she’d take on as Victoria’s personal assistant, work that would largely center on the CANN Foundation.
“I’m sorry to overwhelm you,” Victoria finished. “But next week’s tea and fashion show has become a hugely popular event. That this one takes place around Valentine’s Day, focuses on love and features some hunky eye candy along with the fashion has made it even bigger. But between the two of us, I think we’ll be fine.”
“I do, too,” Lauren said, zipping up her tablet cover and placing the computer inside her tote. “It’s a lot of work, for sure, but I love being busy and I’m a huge fan of Ace Montgomery, his wife London and the HER Fashion line. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure the event goes off without a hitch.”
“There’s one last thing, Lauren.” Victoria reached for a folder on the table before her. “I’ve drawn up a six-month contract covering from now until July 15. Had I had one before I wouldn’t have been left high and dry without help. I hope you don’t mind signing it.”
“On the contrary, I’d be delighted. That means it’s literally illegal for me to return home.”
Small talk continued as Victoria walked Lauren to the door, with Lauren commenting on the original art pieces that lined the hallway. They stepped outside to a clear, cloudless sky and a subtle warm breeze. “Where’s the car?” she asked.
Along with the guesthouse, a car had been placed at Lauren’s disposal. She had yet to drive it.
“I walked here,” Lauren replied. “The dry air is a wonderful change from Maryland’s humidity, and weather this warm in February rarely happens back east. Plus I haven’t worked out lately, and can use the exercise.”
“Just so you’re sure, because I’d be more than happy to have someone drive you home.”
“No, thanks, I’ll be fine.”
The women hugged. Lauren waved and headed down the circular drive to the sidewalk that cut through an expansive lawn, toward the paved road. The two-mile-long walk was barely remembered, so consumed was she with the amount of work she’d need to handle to help Victoria pull off next week’s fashion show. She’d wanted to escape Ed, the pressure from her father and a predictable life, but as she reached the front door of her lovely Spanish-styled home, Lauren couldn’t help but ask herself, had she jumped from the frying pan into the fryer?
Lauren entered the home and headed toward the dining room table, pulling the tablet from her tote while crossing the room. She wanted to go over the notes while the conversation with Victoria was still fresh in her mind. Tossing her tote on the couch, she pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, then sat and fired up the tablet. That’s when she noticed something missing—her charm bracelet.
A pang of fear seized Lauren’s chest as she jumped up from the chair, retrieved the tote and began searching inside it. The bracelet had been her talisman since receiving it as a birthday gift at the age of sixteen. She’d moved cross-country to dodge domineering men and take control of her future. Now would be the worst possible time for her luck to run out.
With no success from a search inside, Lauren reached for the sandals she’d kicked off upon entering the house. She slipped them on and opened the front door. Just before stepping outside, her cell phone rang. Victoria, maybe? Had she found the bracelet on the manse’s exquisite marble floors? Lauren hoped so, and hurried to catch the call before it went to voice mail.
“Lauren Hart.” Her greeting came out in a rush of panicked air.
“I know who I called,” a familiar voice answered.
“Oh, Avery. Hi.” Lauren headed back toward the still-open front door.
“Obviously not who you were expecting,” Avery said. “Which answers my second question after ‘How are you?’ which is ‘Have you seen your teen crush?’ Is that who you thought was calling?”
“Actually, I was hoping it was Victoria, his mom.”
“Oh.”
“I lost my bracelet and was hoping she’d found it.”
“Your good luck charms? Oh, no!”
“Exactly. I’m trying not to freak out.”
“Don’t do that. Just think of all the places you’ve been and retrace your steps.”
“That’s what I’m getting ready to do.” Lauren stepped back inside the home and headed toward her closet for a more comfortable pair of shoes.
“Can I call you back?”
“Not before an update, a short version at least, since my phone calls have not been returned.”
Lauren retrieved her tennis shoes, sat on the bed and put the call on speaker. “From the second I touched down, it’s been a whirlwind. I was going to call you tonight.”
“So you had to start work as soon as you landed?”
“No, but in some ways that’s how it felt, and that’s after being in transit for almost eight hours.”
“Why did you book a flight with that many changes, or such a long layover?”
“To be a part of Christian’s birthday surprise. Yesterday was his thirtieth birthday. His parents surprised him with a slew of gifts and I was a part of that package.”
“What?” The single syllable held out for several seconds suggested there were many more questions behind it.
Lauren laughed. “Not like that! His parents bought him a private plane and wanted me to fly in on it. So I took a flight to