Read After Hours Online

Authors: Dara Girard

Tags: #Romance

After Hours (14 page)

BOOK: After Hours
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“I can understand the dance,” Curtis said when the video ended, “But why a bracelet?”

“She thought it would make you happy?”

He frowned. “Why would she think that?”

“It was the only way I could convince her to dance for you. I said a friend of mine--”

“A friend?”

“I couldn’t very well tell her you were my bos--husband. I didn’t want to confuse her.”

“Why would that confuse her?”

“I just didn’t want her to know about our relationship, so I told her that my friend was sad but if she danced she might make him happy. So she did, then she also wanted to give you that,” she said nodding to the bracelet.

Curtis ran his fingers over the beads and kept his gaze lowered. “Do you think I’m sad?”

“No.”

“Then why did you tell her I was? Why didn’t you just say your friend wanted to see her dance?”

“Because doing something for a purpose is sometimes easier than doing something just for show.”

He lifted his gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Um...this probably won’t make sense to you.”
“Try me.”

“Imagine being a baker.”

He frowned. “I’ve never baked a thing in my life and--”

Amera shook her head. “Okay forget that. Don’t imagine it. Let me tell you a story about two bakers.”

He nodded. “Go on.”

“The first baker only bakes for contests. His main concern is how he’s perceived, how his product is thought of, and winning for himself. Being number one is the ultimate goal.”

“Makes sense.”

“The second baker only bakes for his neighbor. His neighbor is a shut in with no family, but every time he receives the baker’s sweet cookies, he smiles and it makes him happy. And that makes the baker happy.”

“What?”

“What do you mean?”

“What makes the baker happy?”

“Making the neighbor happy.”

“But where’s the real reward in that? At least the first baker is aiming for a goal and there’s a measurable outcome. Either he wins or he loses. The second baker gets a smile, but what is a smile worth?”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly what?”

“A smile is priceless.”

Curtis shook his head. “This story doesn’t make sense. I asked you why you didn’t tell the little girl to just dance and you start talking about baked goods.”

Amera sighed. “My point is that people don’t always do something in order to get something tangible, like a prize or money or fame. Sometimes, it’s easier to give something that helps someone else and the reward cannot be monetized or measured, but it’s still valuable.”

Curtis stared down at the bracelet and Amera knew that he still didn’t understand fully. “Never mind,” she said reaching for it.

He gripped it in his hand. “You said it’s mine, right?”

“Yes.”
“Then why are you trying to take it?”

“Because you’ll probably throw it away.”

“So? It’s still mine.”

“Give it to me.”

He tucked it in his coat pocket. “No.” He folded his arms. “She may not have given me this bracelet for a reward, but
you
did. How much do you want?”

She gave him a figure.

“Too much.”

He was right, but she’d tried to give it a shot. “I have a proposal that you were considering. It has the specifics you like and anything that’s confusing to you, I’ll explain.”

He rubbed the side of his head as if it hurt him. “Give me a minimum.”

“A minimum?”

“Yes, say it quick.”

She mentioned an amount then said, “Are you okay?” when he grimaced.

“I’m fine.” He pulled out the bracelet. “The amount you just gave me is the cost of this. I’ll write a check. You can give it to her later.”

“I can’t give a child that kind of money.”

“Then I’ll make it out to you.”

“Or you can make it out to Peale House.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, you can do that.”

“Why don’t you want to look at the propo--”

“Because my head hurts,” he said resting his head against the back of the seat and closing his eyes.

“Do you want to take something?” Amera asked, suddenly concerned.

“No. It’ll pass.”

At least his nose wasn’t bleeding, that was a good sign, but Amera put on classical music anyway to soothe him. The amount she’d asked for was much lower than the amount she’d asked for in her proposal, but at least now she could give Peale House something. Her heart sang. She couldn’t believe her good fortune and she could hardly keep still the rest of the drive home. She felt like she was floating into the house when they finally arrived.

“I’m going to go change,” Amera said, handing her coat to the maid. Having been to his place on numerous occasions, she was familiar with his house and knew where she’d be staying. However, when she passed by the living room she halted and did a double take. It looked nothing like she’d remembered. Curtis had a clean, austere decor, suitable for a bachelor. Now the living room looked as if it had been pulled out of an upscale magazine for home and hearth. A large decorated Christmas tree rested in the corner, two large crystal deer stood on either side of the fireplace where a lighted winter pine garland hung with a large wreath situated overhead. Silk Persian throw pillows sat on the couch, accented by silver gift boxes which lay on the side tables. Owen had outdone himself to make the place look like a home, she couldn’t wait to see what he’d done to the guestroom.

“What are you looking at?” Curtis asked.

She gestured to the living room and watched him closely. “What do you think?”

“Should I think anything?”

Well, he wasn’t put off by it, that was a good sign. That meant he accepted things as normal.
“No.” She turned to leave.

“Wait,” Curtis said.

She turned to him, feeling her good mood waver. She didn’t like the serious tone of his voice. Had he changed his mind already? “What?”

“Who is Bill to you?”

“Bill? Bill Homer?”

Curtis folded his arms and nodded.

“He’s one of the plant managers at--”

“I know who he is to the factory. I want to know who he is to you.”

Amera started to smile. “You almost sound jealous.”

“I am jealous,” he said in a deep tone.

Her smile fell and she blinked, surprised by the ferocity of his gaze and the sincerity of his words. “It’s nothing.”

“Even when I was in the hospital, you didn’t run to me that way. Are you seeing him?”

“He’s a married man.”

“That hasn’t stopped people before.”

She moved closer to him and took his arm. “Si--Curtis, come and sit down.”

He slipped out of her grasp and backed her against the wall, his arms on either side. “What have you done to me?”

She swallowed, as his gaze traveled over her face, her body responding to the nearness of him. She felt like asking him the same question. What had he done to her? Why was she responding to him this way? Why had his mouth suddenly become so fascinating to her? Why did the heat from his body seem to draw her closer? “I--”

“I’m not a jealous man,” he cut in, his voice raw. “And usually I don’t care what people think, but now...” He briefly closed his eyes and shook his head. “Nothing makes sense.”

Amera licked her lips, briefly wishing she could lick his lips too, before she berated herself. She had to stay sensible and in control. “It has been a very exhausting day. You need to rest.”

He stood very still. “Who is Bill?”

She knew he wouldn’t let it go. “He saved my life once, but he doesn’t remember and you can’t tell him.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s none of your business.”

“How can the man who saved my wife’s life be none of my business?”

“Because I’m not--.” She stopped before she told him the truth. It was too soon to stop the charade, especially when she’d made such great progress. “I’m not ready to tell him.”

“Tell me when you are and I’ll give him a reward.”

“Really? What would you give him?” Amera asked, curious.

Curtis started to grin. “What do you have in mind?”

Amera folded her arms so that he wouldn’t see her trembling hands. She didn’t want him to see how important this was to her. “He has a son in college who’s completing his master’s and another son with special needs.”

Curtis pushed himself from the wall and nodded. “Okay.”

She stared at him confused. “Okay?”

“Consider it done.” He turned to walk away.

She jumped in front of him, her heart pounding so fast she didn’t feel she could catch her breath. “Consider what done?”

“You want his son’s college debt to disappear and his other son’s needs taken care of, correct?”

“Yes, but it has to be anonymous.”

“Okay.” He moved past her.

She jumped in front of him again. “Really?” she asked, unable to believe it. “You’re not joking?”

“Why do you keep jumping in front of me like that? You know I don’t joke.”

Amera clasped her hands together, her heart bursting with delight. “You’re really going to help Bill for me? You’re really going to anonymously reward him for saving my life?”

“Yes.”

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “You don’t know how much this means to me. All my life I’ve dreamt of this moment,” she said, her voice shaking as tears of joy streamed down her cheeks. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

“It’s nothing,” he said in a gruff tone.

Amera drew back and stared at him. “Maybe to you, but it’s everything to me.” She wiped her tears. “Let me go change.”

“Did...did I make you happy?”

She turned to him surprised that he’d even need to ask. That he even cared. “Yes,” she said then, spun around in a circle with her arms stretched wide as she’d seen Maya do, then blew him a kiss. “I’m over the moon.”

***

He’d made her happy. And it had been so easy. So simple. Curtis walked into his bedroom with a smile. He wondered how he could come up with other ways to get her to hug him like that. He liked that feeling. It surprised him how much. No, it wasn’t that much of a surprise anymore. He could no longer deny his attraction to her. And he realized he didn’t want to. The feeling seemed to fuel him. It heightened his senses and made his mind a little sharper. He wanted to know more about her. How had Bill saved her life? Where did she go to school? What was her father like?

He sat on the side of his bed. What was even better was he sensed that she felt the attraction too. Or was she just playing along to get what she wanted? He’d been in enough relationships to know that he couldn’t afford to be sentimental. She was probably only interested in his money and how much she could get out of him. So far she was batting a thousand, of course she’d be happy. Not because of him, but because of his money. The thought hurt, but he brushed it aside.

He had to remember this wasn’t real. That the only reason he was continuing this charade was because he still needed to remember the details of that night. He still had a sense that he needed to protect her. But until his full memory returned, he couldn’t let Amera have all the fun. His smile returned as an idea struck him, he planned to have some fun of his own.

***

Amera raced into the guestroom, closed the door then released a squeal of delight. She’d pulled it off! She couldn’t believe her lie had really worked! He would keep the factory open a little longer
and
write a check to Peale House. But even better than that, he’d help Bill. This new Curtis was wonderful. Gruff, but generous. Curt, but compassionate. She wondered how long he thought they’d been married, she wouldn’t dare ask him. She rested her hand over her still pounding heart. She was dangerously close to falling for him. But she couldn’t. He wouldn’t be like this forever. Once his memory returned all of this would fade away. The thought depressed her, but she decided not to focus on it. She’d enjoy what she could get from him now. She’d dreamed of revenge but it had looked nothing like this.

She opened the closet doors then stood paralyzed, stunned by the sight.

The walk-in closet was nearly the size of her apartment and looked like an exclusive boutique. Filled from top to bottom, it boasted an assortment of designer dresses, blouses, jackets, skirts, pants and several upscale suits. In addition, there were over thirty pairs of shoes, a wide variety of bags, and most of all, an elegant collection of fine jewelry. It was stunning. Unfortunately, none of it was hers.

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

She pulled out her cell phone and called Owen. “You did a great job with the house, but where are my clothes?” she asked when he picked up.

“They haven’t arrived yet?”

“No.”

BOOK: After Hours
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ads

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