Madness or Love (Be With Me Book 1) (4 page)

She looked at him in disbelief. “You’ll do that for
me?”

“Of course, I will.” He tried to sound nonchalant, but
the truth was he would do almost anything for her and those mesmerizing eyes.
“Just give me a call when you have the property or whenever you need advice.”
He casually continued with his meal.

There was slight confusion in her eyes. “Give you a
call?”

“Yes, you have my number.”

“You gave me your real, private number?”

It was his turn to look confused. “Of course,” he said
slowly, like talking to a child. “What other number would I give you?”

She studied him and desperately tried to figure out if
he was stupid or completely naïve. “You don’t know me.”

“You gave me your number,” Ian said nonchalantly with
an impish smile.

“It’s not the same,” she insisted.

“Why?” He leaned back and waited for the answer. The
pull was too strong, and he could barely resist. The face of the woman in front
of him displayed an array of emotions—from confusion and disbelief to respect,
admiration, and maybe, just maybe, buried deep behind those green eyes, the
first sparks of passion.

“How can you possibly know you can trust me?” she
insisted. “I could sell the number to some tabloid. I’m pretty sure they are
desperate for every bit and scrap of celebrity gossip.”    

“Are you trying to convince me that I can’t trust
you?” he asked, amused. “Because I do,” he paused, “no matter how crazy that
sounds.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but the words
failed her.

“Listen,” he started seriously, “I’m not naïve; I know
people can be cruel, calculating, manipulative, unscrupulous. Where I live, you
can’t always tell who your true friends are. So you try to be conscious, and
you second-guess everything. You hide in your shell, and you end up being
alone, sitting on the couch on your weekend off.” He stopped suddenly, his mind
somewhere back in time.

He has been hurt
, she thought,
by a woman or a
very close friend.
But that didn’t give her an explanation of his actions,
though.

He took a deep breath and looked straight into her
astounded green eyes. “But there is one thing I’ve learned in life—to trust my
gut, unconditionally. How do I know you’re to be trusted?” He shrugged. “I
can’t explain; I just do.”

Victoria blinked and tried to stay focused and calm
through the haze of her emotions.

“It’s more of a feeling,” he continued. “The first
time I saw you behind that desk, I knew I had found a special person, one who could
be a true friend.” His eyes burned her, pierced her soul. “But you’re right,”
he said in a lighter tone, “I need to be more careful with my private number.”

He waited for her, an answer, reaction, anything. She
wasn’t sure how to feel about all that. The truth surfaced in her eyes—she felt
the same. “I understand,” she said simply. The silence gave her a moment to
pull herself back together. A smile lit up her face. “I have a proposal for
you.”

His curiosity was piqued.

“Next time you end up alone on the couch in need of a
friend to talk to, call me!”

He searched her eyes for a hint of fakeness, but they
sparkled in the dim light, full of genuine concern. “I just might take you up
on that offer.”

“I hope you will. Now,” she paused, “can we have a
dessert?”

His eyes widened in shock. “You eat sweets?”

“You make it sound like something outrageous. Wait! Do
you think I don’t need to eat sugar because I’m fat?”

She was clearly teasing him, but he decided to play
along. “No, no, you look . . .” He trailed off. “You surprised me. Most of the
women I know are either vegan or on some crazy diet. It’s tiresome. I adore
people who know how to enjoy food.”

“Why the hesitation in your eyes, then? Don’t tell me
your trainer is going to kill you!”

Ian laughed. “Always right on the spot.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell even if he tries to wring
it out of me,” she vowed.

Ian couldn’t help but smile. Victoria made him feel at
ease, at peace with the world, understood, appreciated, and respected. A
permanent grin settled on his face.

“Come on, we can share one,” she pleaded.

“How can I say no to that lovely face?”

She felt her cheeks turn red.

He ignored her reaction. “You choose!”

“Chocolate melt,” she said instantly.

The waiter brought the dessert a few minutes later.

Victoria frowned. “It’s so small.”

“You can have it. Please, don’t cry!”

She looked up at him with a devilish gleam in her
eyes. “You’re ready to sacrifice this chocolate heaven for me?”

“Are you mocking me?” He leaned forward, and his
lively deep-blue eyes made her dizzy.

She swallowed hard and tried to clear her mind. The
man in front of her was everything a woman could ever dream of—gorgeous,
charming, gentle, humorous, respectful. But he was out of reach, at least to
her.

“We had a deal. We’ll share!” she said finally. In
fact, any other woman would want to share a lot more with him than a chocolate
melt at that moment, but Victoria knew he would be out of her life in a day.

* * *

They talked casually on the street while waiting for
the taxies.

“Are you back to work tomorrow?”

“Yes, eight to five.”

“I’ll see you then.” He smiled at her and
unconsciously played with the charms of her silver bracelet. Close, too close.

“You don’t have to wait. I’ll be fine,” she managed
through her hasty heartbeat.

“I don’t have to. I want to.” His voice sounded suddenly
deeper, seductive.

She blinked, sure it was all a dream. Was she just
imagining the double meaning in his words when there was none? The taxi arrived
and saved her.

Ian opened the door for her, but she stopped. “Thank
you for the wonderful evening
.
”

“No. I thank you. I thought I was just lucky to meet
someone like you. Then you agreed to spend your time with me, and that was
really something. So . . .” He kissed her hand. “Thank you.”

Her blood ran faster through her veins. She suddenly
didn’t want to go, to leave him, ever again. She didn’t want to lose the glow
in his eyes, nor did she want to break the invisible link between them. But she
got into the taxi anyway.

He looked at her with serious, knowing eyes. “Sweet
dreams, Victoria.” And he closed the door.

Life went back to normal as soon as Ian Young walked
out of the sliding doors of Boutique on the Gardens. Victoria stood there,
frozen, and watched his back, watched him leave her life. She felt numb,
stupefied, emotionless, and empty. She had known all along that she wasn’t a
modern-day Cinderella, and that brief encounter with Ian Young wouldn’t become
a fairytale, at least not one with a happy ending. She had never looked for
Prince Charming on a white horse to swipe her away, but the sudden realization
that she wouldn’t see Ian again sent a stabbing pain through her chest.

Outside the building, comfortably seated in the car,
Ian looked back to the glass doors that hid the lovely, raven-haired woman with
smart green eyes. He had never felt so unwilling to leave a place, and he was
sure it wasn’t London’s charm that held him back. He felt a sudden chill as the
taxi drove away, his body and soul empty of all emotions. He didn’t look back;
he couldn’t.

The excitement surrounding Ian’s visit subsided in a
day, and life went on like he had never been there. Except for one person,
though—Victoria. She had memorized every wrinkle around his eyes, the way he
moved, the scent of him. She tried to move on and concentrate on her work, but her
heart wouldn’t let go of the image.

“Victoria, in my office!” Her boss’s voice brought her
back from her dreamland. She had pushed the mute button in her mind, and
suddenly the world exploded in an array of sounds.

“He sounds pissed off,” Stacy said behind her. “Are
you in trouble?”

“I hope not.” Victoria tried to smile, seeing the
genuine concern in her colleague’s eyes. She entered her boss’s office and
closed the door.

“Sit down!” he said without looking at her.

Victoria pulled herself together, ready to face what
was to come.

“I got an e-mail,” he started, “from Ian Young.” Mr.
Patterson finally looked at her with pleasure, not anger, in his eyes.

Victoria’s heart skipped a beat and then raced faster,
but her face remained calm and didn’t betray a single emotion.

“He was so pleased with his stay that he decided to
thank me and the staff personally. I quote: ‘The unique approach to customers
and the staff’s competence transform the hotel into a true home.’”

She listened carefully.
Unique approach.
The phrase
lingered a bit longer in her mind.

“Do you know why you’re here?” her boss continued.

“No,” she said cautiously.

“I promised I’d think again about your promotion. I am
more than happy with your work, knowledge, and customer service expertise.”

She stopped breathing.

“As of Monday, you are officially the new Front Office
Manager. Congratulations!”

Victoria sat there, speechless.

Mr. Patterson smiled. “This is the moment when you say
thank you.”

She blinked. “I’m sorry. Thank you! I won’t disappoint
you.” Victoria shook the man’s hand.

“I know you won’t. Go now! And Victoria . . . good
job.”

She nodded and left the room.

It wasn’t until the next morning while she lay down in
bed, staring blankly at the wallpapered ceiling, that the news finally hit her. 
She was going to be the manager—her dream eight-to-five job and a huge salary.
But the most important thing was she was one step closer to transforming her
dreams into reality. Victoria jumped out of bed, filled with energy, will, and
determination to put everything she had into this challenge and make it happen.
No distractions should get in her way; no piercing blue eyes in the back of her
mind should steer her off course.

Part of her knew, though, that she needed to thank him
for that letter. And she tried. But during the next couple of days, every time
she tried to dial his number, her fingers wouldn’t budge. After the third try,
she decided it was for the best to leave him behind into that one Cinderella
night. She needed her focus desperately, and erasing the image of Ian was hard
enough.

Her first Monday as manager came and went, leaving her
breathless from excitement and the burden of responsibility over her shoulders.
Making her first steps into her new office had scared her, but for the first time,
she had felt proud. And when the hours had past, she knew, with absolute
certainty, that she would make an exceptional hotel owner. The job fit her like
a glove; decision-making came naturally, and her compassion and sense of
fairness had made her loved and respected in an instant. What else could she
wish for? A tiny image in the back of her mind reminded her that there was more
to life than work.

Two blue eyes refused to fade away into oblivion.

She felt restless that night. The air was hot and
heavy, and the dampness made her hair stick to her over-sensitive skin. The
sleep came hard, and with it came the dream. The scene was familiar, and she
welcomed it. The old white mansion rose over the horizon in front of her. The
French windows were wide open, and she gingerly stepped in. A sense of loss and
foreboding hit her. She knew the place by heart, and loved it, but that night
it didn’t bring her joy. A wave of loneliness swept over her, and she felt the
urge to find something, someone. She looked up the grand staircase and made her
first step. The old hardwood squeaked under her feet. She was halfway up when
the wind carried a ringing that filled the air. Victoria looked around,
surprised, and was about to make another step when the sound began again,
persistent and piercing. She turned around . . . and opened her eyes.

* * *

Ian opened the door of his New York apartment and
entered. He loved the open-plan space, the large windows letting the sunrays in,
and the warm butterscotch colors. This particular day felt gray, and every
glass surface reflected the cloudy sky. He opened the wine cooler and poured a
glass of Rose. The pale pink liquid with a taste of strawberries didn’t make
him feel better, though. He sagged on the couch, looking blankly at the
stunning New York view. This wasn’t the worst day of his life, but still the
emotions of the past hour raged on. Disappointment, anger, perplexity, and
doubt swirled in his head. Every sip made him feel drained, empty, and numb.
Mindlessly he rummaged through the pockets of his faded leather jacket. His
fingers took ahold of a little piece of paper. He took it out and just stared
at it. The numbers had started to fade away but were still readable, all
fourteen of them. Funnily enough, the small paper miraculously changed the gray
to a bright array of sun-kissed colors. A smile finally touched his face and
settled in his blue eyes. Ian picked up the phone and dialed the numbers.