Secret Miami Nights. Pamela Yaye
href="#u00c99759-76e3-552a-a76a-d9ed0b6ebfeb"> Chapter 12
“Welcome home, Mr. Rollins.” Cap in hand, the suit-clad limousine driver bowed at the waist and nodded his bald, shiny head in greeting. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
Ashton Rollins was beat, exhausted after his ten-hour flight from Frankfurt, but he read the driver’s name tag and shook his outstretched hand. “York, the pleasure is all mine.”
A proud smile exploded onto York’s wide, tanned face. Racing around to the passenger-side door, he yanked it open and gestured at the backseat with a dramatic flourish of his hands.
Embarrassed by the driver’s effusive behavior, Ashton noticed the employees on the tarmac at Miami International Airport’s General Aviation Center were staring at him. He was the Chief Operating Officer of his family’s business, Rollins Aeronautics, not a head of state, and unlike his father, Alexander, he didn’t like people fussing over him.
Lowering his head, he ducked inside the limousine and rested his briefcase at his feet. Ashton unbuttoned his tailored suit jacket and made himself comfortable. A week ago, he’d traveled to Frankfurt to attend the Aerospace Expo, and had worked nonstop while in the bustling metropolis. He’d arrived at the airport twenty minutes earlier by corporate jet, and the landing had been so rough his head was still spinning. Ashton would have preferred piloting his private plane to travel, but these days he had no time for his favorite hobby.
Ashton unzipped his briefcase, took out his tablet and turned it on. But he didn’t review his weekly schedule. His thoughts were on Haley Adams—the bubbly, effervescent CEO he’d been introduced to weeks earlier at the Millionaire Moguls meeting. For five years, Ashton had been president of the exclusive club. It was as discreet as it was powerful, and members couldn’t buy their way in—they had to be invited. The name of the organization was officially Prescott George, but the media called them the Millionaire Moguls. Ashton hated the moniker. The Moguls were more than just wealthy businessmen: they did good work. They provided college scholarships to needy students, funded inner-city organizations and changed lives.
Pride filled him at the thought of how much they’d accomplished. Every year, the Moguls chose a charity to support, and this year they’d selected The Aunt Penny Foundation. The organization would reap the profits from the Moguls’ seventy-fifth anniversary party and charity gala to be held at Ashton’s Fisher Island estate at the end of August, but he wasn’t going to wait six weeks to see Haley Adams. Screw that. He wanted to see her now. Today. Before one of the other moguls swooped in and stole her away. The twenty-eight-year old CEO was a magnet, the type of woman who attracted male attention wherever she went, and he couldn’t risk someone else winning her heart.
Ashton remembered with astounding clarity the day they’d met. Her smile had stayed with him from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, and weeks later he was still thinking about her. Ashton didn’t know why. They’d only talked for a couple minutes. Haley was supposed to give a presentation on behalf of The Aunt Penny Foundation, but she’d received an emergency phone call and promptly left. He’d made inquiries about her after the meeting wrapped up, and learned from her colleague Becca Wright that Haley’s Aunt Penny had been rushed to the hospital. Moved by compassion, he’d called his favorite florist and had flowers delivered to the woman’s hospital room.
In the few moments of casual conversation that they’d had, Haley had captivated him. It was more than just her womanly curves. Sure, she was beautiful and accomplished, but he met attractive, successful women every day. It was the emotion he’d seen on her face when she’d found out her aunt was ill that had touched him. Ashton was surrounded by people whose emotions were buried deep inside. He, himself, was a master at concealing his feelings.
He didn’t feel comfortable opening up to anyone. Not even the people he loved most. Sadly, the accident had changed everything.
The words froze in his brain. The accident. Bitter memories darkened his mind. No one ever talked about it. Ashton thought about his college days. At Nilson University, he’d dated Mia Landers, a scholarship student who had had a crush on him for several years. His parents didn’t like Mia, but he figured they’d come around. His father suggested that Ashton was dating Mia as a form of delayed adolescent rebellion, and his mother, Joan, labeled Mia “common” and “a nobody.” But Ashton had continued dating her. He hadn’t cared what they thought. It was his life.
The day Ashton told his parents he’d proposed to Mia, all hell had broken loose at the Rollins estate. His father claimed Mia didn’t belong in their world, wasn’t welcome, and had no place in their family. Enraged, Ashton had stood his ground, arguing that if they took the time to get to know her, instead of judging her, they’d love her as much as he did. Tragically, Ashton had never had the opportunity to prove what an incredible woman his fiancée was.
Pain stabbed Ashton’s heart, and his vision blurred. Shortly after graduation, he and Mia were in a car accident that had proved fatal for her. He’d woken up in the hospital with no memory of the accident, but Mia had died at the scene. Alexander said authorities believed Mia must have been drinking and she’d lost control of her car. The police report made no sense to Ashton. Mia was not a drinker. And when they were together, he always drove, even if it was her car. “Mia was driving,” Alexander had said firmly. “Be thankful. If you were driving, you could have been charged with manslaughter.”
Weeks later, Ashton had received devastating news. The autopsy report claimed there were drugs in Mia’s system. His family had managed to keep the information out of the press, but that was the least of Ashton’s problems. He’d lost the love of his life, and hated his father’s cold, callous attitude about the accident. He’d attended Mia’s funeral in a wheelchair, in a haze of grief and confusion, and had nightmares about the accident for several months.
Once his physical injuries healed, he’d been worried about his future. Would people blame him for Mia’s death? Would he lose his acceptance to business school? Would his reputation be destroyed? His parents had instructed him not to speak of the incident to people outside of the family. If there was gossip and speculation about what had caused the mishap, Ashton wasn’t privy to it. To this day, more than ten years after Mia’s death, the incident was never spoken of in the Rollins household. Occasionally, he still dreamt about it but in his waking hours, he sometimes wondered if the accident had really happened. If he’d ever even had a fiancée.
Taking