Читать книгу Secret Miami Nights - Pamela Yaye - Страница 9

Chapter 1

“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 off his aviator sunglasses, Ashton rubbed at his eyes. Since the car accident, he’d toed the line where his family was concerned. He’d gotten his Ivy League MBA and gone to work at Rollins Aeronautics. He only dated women his parents considered “appropriate.” But not once had he fallen in love. He continued to feel guilty about Mia’s death, though everyone told him it wasn’t his fault. Why hadn’t he realized she was under the influence? Why had he let her get behind the wheel? If he had been driving, the accident could have been avoided, and he’d be married now, not heartbroken and alone.

Again, Haley Adams barged into his thoughts. For the first time in years, Ashton was open to having a girlfriend, and the only person on his radar was the charity CEO.

Curious how Haley was doing, Ashton retrieved his cell phone from his jacket pocket and called her. On a whim, he’d phoned Haley a couple times from Frankfurt, but every time he called she was unavailable. Today, though, he was determined to finally connect with her.

“Good morning. The Aunt Penny Foundation,” chirped a female voice. “This is Stacy speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hello. Can I please speak to Ms. Haley Adams?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but she’s in a meeting. Would you like to leave a message?”

No, I want you to put her on the phone so I can ask her out! Frustrated, Ashton hung up and chucked his cell on the seat. Damn, why was it so hard to get Haley on the line? She was the CEO of a charity organization, for goodness’ sake, not the leader of the free world!

And he was a Rollins. Why was he sitting there pouting? He sat up, straightening his shoulders. He didn’t wait for things to happen. He made things happen.

Imbued with confidence, a plan taking shape in his mind, he pressed the intercom button.

“Yes, Mr. Rollins?” the driver asked. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Take me to The Aunt Penny Foundation, and step on it. It’s important.”

“Very well, sir. Not a problem. I’ll have you there quick, fast and in a hurry!”

The driver punched the gas, sending the limousine flying down Brickell Avenue.

Pleased, Ashton adjusted his pin-striped tie. This time when he saw Haley, things would be different. The thought—and the images of the curvy, dark-skinned beauty—excited him.

Twenty minutes later, the limousine stopped in front of a brown brick building, and Ashton stepped out. “Thanks. Hang tight. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

Modern and clean, the reception area was decorated with children’s artwork, bamboo plants, brown leather furniture and brass lamps. Approaching the front desk, he buttoned his suit jacket and took off his sunglasses.

“Good morning,” greeted the receptionist at the mahogany desk. “Welcome to The Aunt Penny Foundation. How may I help you?”

Licking his lips, Ashton peered down the hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. He was a great judge of character, and something told him Haley Adams was special. Someone he could trust. More than just a pretty face and a sexy body. Ashton wanted to know if their connection was real, or a figment of his imagination, and there was only one way to find out. “I’m Ashton Rollins, president of Prescott George, and I’m here to see Ms. Haley Adams.”

Frowning, worry lines wrinkling her brow, she consulted her appointment book. “One moment, please,” she chirped, raising an index finger in the air.

She snatched the phone off the cradle, pressed 0 and spoke in a low, hushed voice to the person on the line. Ashton couldn’t hear what she was saying, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t leaving until he saw Haley.

“Ms. Adams will see you now.” The receptionist sprang to her feet. “Right this way, Mr. Rollins.”

Following her down the corridor, Ashton heard telephones ringing, the distant sound of laughter and the familiar chug of a photocopier. Inspirational quotes were painted on the deep blue walls, words of encouragement and hope, and reading them lifted his spirits. Coming to The Aunt Penny Foundation was a bold move, one Ashton was confident would pay off. The air smelled of peppermint and perfume, a fragrant aroma that made him think of Haley, and he suspected she was nearby.

Stopping at the end of the hallway, the receptionist gestured to the open door to her left.

Nodding his thanks, Ashton entered the bright, sun-drenched office. And there, standing behind the executive desk in a fitted cardigan, white V-neck dress and pearls was Haley Adams. His crush. The object of his affection. The woman who’d starred in his dreams last night—and the night before last. The urge to touch her was overwhelming, but since he was a gentleman and not a sex-crazed teenager, he stayed put and buried his hands inside his pockets.

Staring at her, Ashton admired her creamy skin, slender nose, glossy red lips and high cheekbones. Her stylish auburn bob grazed her shoulders, and the short, thick bangs complemented her oval face, drawing attention to her big brown eyes.

“Welcome to The Aunt Penny Foundation, Mr. Rollins. What can I do for you?”

Ashton choked down a laugh. Her mouth said, “Welcome,” but her cold, rigid stance said, “Get out and don’t come back!” Fidgeting with her fingers, she shifted and shuffled her feet, causing Ashton to remember the last time he’d done The Electric Slide. It was at a friend’s wedding reception months earlier, and when his date—an uptight scientist from Coral Gables—had complained the song was corny, he’d hit the dance floor alone.

“It’s great to see you again, Haley. How is Aunt Penny doing?”

Eyes wide, she stared at him as if he’d just asked for her hand in marriage.

“I hope she’s feeling better,” he added, “and is finally out of the hospital.”

“Yes, she is. Thanks for asking.”

Noting the photographs on the mauve walls—pictures of Haley at a ribbon-cutting ceremony, posing with a group of college graduates, shaking hands with the mayor—Ashton walked further into the small, cramped space. Wholly feminine, it had a hot pink corkboard, vases overflowing with sunflowers, a colorful area rug and glass shelves lined with business management books, postcards and potted candles. “Ms. Wright did an outstanding job with her presentation for Prescott George, but I have some questions about The Aunt Penny Foundation that I’m hoping you can answer.”

“Absolutely,” she said, speaking in a breathless tone. “I’m free now.”

Haley gestured to the armchair in front of her desk, but Ashton didn’t move.

“Sorry, but I can’t stay.” For effect, he glanced at his gold wrist watch and slowly shook his head, as if he was profoundly disappointed. “I’m pressed for time, but perhaps you can come to my Fisher Island estate tonight at six o’clock. We can talk then.”

“Your estate?” Her voice rose an octave. “Tonight?”

“Yes, my estate. Is that a problem?”

Panic flickered across her face, but she fervently shook her head. “No, not at all.”

“Great. I’ll leave my address and cell number with your receptionist on my way out.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rollins. I look forward to seeing you later.”

“Call me Ashton. All of my friends do, and I have a feeling we’ll be buddies in no time.”

Her face lit up. “I’d like that.”

That makes two of us, he thought. Getting to know you better is priority number one.

A raw, primal hunger he’d never experienced surged through his body. Ashton wanted to take Haley in his arms for a kiss, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. Not until he knew more about her. Did she have a boyfriend? Several? Was she attracted to him, too, or was he fooling himself? He hoped it wasn’t the latter.

“Enjoy the rest of your day,” he said, putting on his sunglasses. “Don’t work too hard.”

“Likewise, Mr. President.”

Amused at her joke, Ashton chuckled. “Funny, successful and gorgeous? What a winning combination. You should be my first lady.”

Her laughter tickled his ears, and the jovial expression on her face made him feel proud, as if he’d hit a hole in one on a golf course. They stared at each other, and her gaze was so strong and intense Ashton couldn’t move. Couldn’t catch his breath. He didn’t like losing control and hated feeling weak, powerless. He turned away from her to break the spell.

“I better get back to work, or I’ll never make it out of here on time.” Plopping down on her zebra-print chair, she crossed her legs and picked up the pen on her desk calendar. “Thanks for stopping by, Ashton. I’ll see you at six.”

I can’t wait.

He’d done it. Asked out the sexiest, most captivating woman he’d ever met, and Ashton hoped tonight would be the first of many dates. Anxious to return to his estate to begin making preparations for their romantic dinner, he strode out the door with a Cheshire-cat grin, confident it would be a night he’d never forget.

* * *

An hour after leaving The Aunt Penny Foundation, Ashton entered the entryway of his eight-bedroom estate. Dropping his house keys in the porcelain bowl on the marble table, he kicked off his shoes and loosened the knot in his Burberry tie. It was good to be home, he thought, his gaze circling the foyer. He’d lived at the estate for years, but he still loved everything about the mansion—the vaulted ceilings and stone columns, the Mediterranean architecture, the plush furniture and the lush palm trees and foliage visible from every window. His parents lived next door, and although there was a sprawling lawn between the two properties, like it or not, his parents dropped by every day—sometimes twice.

“Where have you been? Your plane landed hours ago.”

Ashton cranked his head to the right, seeing his father standing there in the doorway to the den. “Mi casa es su casa,” he joked, right before he added, “Dad, it’s good to see you.”

“What took you so long to get home?” Alexander inquired. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Thoughts of Haley flooded his mind, and his temperature rose. “I had a stop to make.”

“We need to talk. It’s important.”

“Dad, don’t worry, my trip was fine. I made a lot of valuable business contacts at the Aerospace Expo and I plan to return to Germany later this year for Oktoberfest. Not only is it a great networking opportunity, it’s—”

“That’s not why I’m here. Trouble’s brewing within the Moguls.” Taking a puff of his cigar, his father sat down in a leather armchair. “Joshua DeLong is plotting to unseat you.”

Ashton shrugged. “Big deal. More power to him.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“Dad, I have bigger things to worry about than who’s doing what in Prescott George. I have a company to run, an anniversary party to plan...”

And a woman to seduce, he thought, but didn’t say for fear his dad would blab to his mom. The last thing Ashton wanted was Joan dropping by to grill him about Haley.

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,” Alexander said, his eyes narrowed and his tone clipped. “You have to act now, before it’s too late.”

Hearing his cell phone buzz, Alexander checked the screen. A grim expression darkened his face. Surging to his feet, he put his cell to his ear and strode out of the room. As his father brushed past him and marched down the hall, Ashton overheard him say, “What did you find out? Who does DeLong have in his back pocket, and what do we have to do to regain the upper hand?”

Perplexed, Ashton stroked his jaw. Was he missing something? Was there more to the story? He couldn’t understand why his dad was so unnerved by the rumors—and why he’d come over to tell him about it in person. The members of Prescott George would never allow an interloper like Joshua DeLong to take over, and Ashton had better things to do with his time than stress about what the smug corporate raider was up to. Furthermore, Ashton was a strong leader who had the unwavering support of his members, and there was nothing Joshua could do about it.

Clearing his mind of every troubling thought, Ashton strode down the hallway, whistling a tune. After he spoke to his chef and touched base with his assistant, he was going to the barber shop. He had to look his best for Haley. Ashton couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this excited about someone, and sensed it was going to be a night to remember. He only hoped his father didn’t make another unexpected visit and ruin his date.