Broken Barriers (Barriers Series Book 4) (33 page)

Miami was calling my name. Miami changed everything. Escaping my past had never been an option until Olivia’s wedding. I needed to forget, to get lost, and be swept away in the romance and magic of a wedding. I didn’t count on him. I didn’t count on how I would react to him. A man, a series of soul racking orgasms and a young woman who listened only to the cries of her wanton body, it was magic. And it was bound to end in disaster, but still it hurt more than I ever could have imagined.

Chapter 1

Stepping off of the plane in Miami, wafting coconut oil and salt water tickles my nose and the thick air wraps its welcoming arms around me. I am warm to the core of my body, warm and dry. A welcome change from what was beginning to feel like a never ending Colorado winter. The weather has been so cold, I swear my bones were beginning to rattle when I walked.

Olivia is getting married to Matthew a successful real estate developer. Just her luck, he is wildly successful, comes from an important family and travels the world. Poor girl. It seems the only drawback, so far, is the future mother-in-law that she can’t seem to crack. I know nothing of what she is about to enter into. Neither of us grew up with much money, but we always had what we needed. To even try and comprehend the kind of wealth she is marrying into is mind boggling. I say ‘no, thank you’ to the responsibility and pressure she is taking on. I like my low key life.

My eyes scan the terminal for Olivia. Everyone is so tan…..and thin. All around me women are strutting and swishing like they are in a secret fashion show, swaying their hips side to side as they walk down an invisible cat walk. Men pretend not to notice under their dark shades, leering sideways. Languages float about like a Latin symphony, people greeting one another, or saying goodbye. And then I hear her, over every other sound in the terminal.

“Sophie!” I look to my left to see the crowd part just as a wash of blonde hair launches at me, embracing me like a sister. We hug each other for a moment and swing in one another’s arms like we did when we were little. I hold her back from me so I can get a good look. It has been a long time since we have been face to face. Our lives have gone off in such different directions, sometimes I fear I will lose her for good.

Now she is getting married and looking forward to a wonderful life, so adult, and refined. She looks amazing! I cannot believe this is the same girl. Her hair is long and blonde, her tan flawless and she is glowing with that sickening look of love. She is head to toe class in a sleeveless ivory silk top and crisp gray slacks. Her ears are weighed down by sparkling diamond studs, and a matching single diamond sits at the base of her throat.

“You look amazing, you Bitch!” She punches me square in the arm, deadening the muscle, stinging just like it used to.

“Me? Look at you, Soph, you are so cute!” Cute, that’s me, the cute one. Even in my best jeans and cutest lacy tank I’m still painfully underdressed, under adorned, and generally unremarkable.

“Yeah, right, Liv. I am never going to fit in here. I cannot believe how beautiful every single person is. I am surprised they even let me off the plane.” My head starts to swim as my pulse picks up and pearls of sweat rise on the nape of my neck. “Oh, my God, Olivia I am freaking out! You are getting married!” My palms are so wet that my bag begins to slip and I lose my grip. I let it drop to the ground and use the back of my hand to wipe away the gathering curls from my damp forehead. Olivia grabs both my hands and pulls me in close.

“We are going to go to that bar, right there,” pointing just behind her to the Admirals Club. ”We are going to have a cocktail, maybe two, we are going to calm down, catch up and everything is going to be fine. I am so glad you are here, I have missed you so much, Sophie!” She pulls me in for a hug and squeezes so tightly it is hard to hold on to any emotion other than relief when she finally releases me. That is an offer I cannot refuse and she knows that well.

Inside the Admirals Club deep overstuffed leather chairs arranged in small groups face a wall of windows that looks out onto the tarmac. A heavy mahogany bar anchors the large room, with a walk in humidor behind and a floor to ceiling wall of wine with a petite, divinely dressed waitress climbing an old fashioned rolling library ladder, allowing her access to the farthest bottles. The air is slightly scented by cigar smoke and breathy scotch, the faintest sounds of classical music floating over the hidden sound system. Everything in the room feels rich, with me being the obvious exception. The host greets Olivia, kissing her hand, and leads us to the farthest corner and a deep round booth. The banquette is sunken and looks out onto a private stone patio, above hangs a frighteningly large crystal chandelier.

“Sophie, sit down. What shall we drink?” Olivia pulls me back to the moment and into the sunken leather booth.

“I think champagne is appropriate, don’t you?” I open the wine list intending to treat my best friend to a glass of champagne. My eyes pop and the hairs at the nape of my neck stand on end as I get a glimpse of the bottle prices and the fact that there is no “
bubbles by the glass
”. Are we in an airport bar or the Ritz? I begin calculating in my head when the waiter appears with a silver bucket full of ice and a bottle of Moet. Oh My God! I choke on my own breath as he places the bucket into a stand and proceeds to present the bottle to Olivia.

“Courtesy of the gentleman in the corner,” he gestures and our eyes follow him to an overstuffed chair against the farthest wall. There is a cluster of suits buzzing about, the man sitting amidst the chaos nods at Olivia and tips his glass of amber liquid.

“I’ll be right back,” she blurts at me and quickly slides from the booth heading towards the swarm of gray suits and cell chatter. I watch her cross the room, her beachy blonde hair swaying in time with her hips. She is like a force of nature; tall, thin and blonde. If yoga was an Olympic sport she would be a gold medalist. The whole swarm of suits watches her approach, but his eyes seem to be locked on me. I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one is standing behind me, nope, just me in this corner. His attention is focused. His intensity wafts from across the room like the smell of aged pipe smoke and well-worn leather. His face is chiseled and rugged with pale skin and full peach lips. His square jaw covered by the slightest hint of maybe one day’s shadow. He furrows his brow and shakes me off just as Olivia approaches him. They exchange words as Olivia hugs him and points me out. She waves, expecting me to wave back? Awkwardly, I raise my hand and wave like a parade float princess.
Aargh! What is wrong with me?
Olivia giggles and leans in to whisper something in his ear. He is polite, smiling graciously, but hardly gets a word in the whole time she is talking to him. I pull my attention from his chiseled face, back to the glass of champagne in front of me and decide I may need a little liquid help to get through the next few days. I quickly toss back the champagne with my back to the rest of the room and refill my glass before Olivia returns.

“That,” she pauses with her mouth turned up, “is Rhys, Matthew’s best man. He said to send his regrets that he couldn’t come over to meet you, but he is off to New York. He should be back by morning, and then you two can meet and get to know each other.” Her sly wink puts me on alert, while she sips her champagne.

“I know what you are doing, Olivia. You cannot expect that man to be interested in me.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them and her jaw falters, slightly.

“Sophie! Why would you say that? You don’t even know him.”

“I can see him.” He is striking and I watch his lips take in the last drops of his drink, the ice reluctantly pushed back with his tongue, sadly clinking to the bottom of his now empty glass. His long fingers casually wrap around the crystal glass, tapping a mindless rhythm as he listens to one of the suits chatter about something. He looks in our direction and catches me dead in his sights. I watch him put the glass down, his eyes locked on me. His fingers caress the rim of the glass, around and around in slow circles, his fingertip slides across the fine crystal while he watches me. With every turn of his fingers a knot tightens deep in my belly. A small crooked grin raises the corner of his knowing mouth before we are torn from the moment by another of his suits handing him a cell. He turns his back to me and I snap back to the table, back to Olivia.

“No worries, Sophie. I promise not to interfere. Rhys is a distraction guy, not someone you want to get involved with.” She winks and raises her glass. “He is a short term kind of guy; you are a long term kind of girl.” What was that? Olivia is a master at backhanded talk and compliments laced with acid, but I let it go, washing it down with a sip of champagne. “I am so glad you are here.”

“Thank you, Olivia. I have missed you and I am so excited to be here!” And down the hatch goes my second glass of bubbles. I look over to see Olivia finishing her glass in one gulp, as well, and I’m comforted again by our familiar ways. “That was so nice of him to send us such a nice bottle, we have to finish it, right?!” I whisper, a Cheshire grin slowly spreading across my face. I haven’t been on the ground for an hour and already my head is swimming.

“Of course!” Olivia proclaims with another toast. “Then we will head back to the hotel. I have dinner with Matthew and his parents tonight. Will you be alright to entertain yourself? I know the girls want to meet you. Kylie and Melissa, remember?”

“Yes, I remember and I will be fine. I will most likely have to sleep off this champagne!” A champagne fueled giggle pops out. I love being back with my girl. There is such comfort in friends that you have known your entire life.

***

Once at the hotel, I get checked in and Olivia and I head up to my room. The hotel is beautiful, light marble floors and walls accented by dark wood and heavy furniture. Elaborate blown glass chandeliers hang throughout the lobby. Tall palms and other tropical foliage are fed by the sunlight that filters through the glass walls and ceiling of the inner lobby. The elevator is glass and looks into the lobby from one side and out onto the white private sand beach from the other. Everywhere I look I am overwhelmed by beautiful things and beautiful people. When we arrive on the sixteenth floor, we turn down the hall and find my room. The furnishings are light and airy, as you would expect in Miami. The entire back wall of the room is windows hung with gauzy curtains blowing in the warm salt air. The room overlooks the private beach. A terrace, three floors down, has a bar and chaises with private cabanas and an infinity pool. I turn to Olivia completely speechless. I have never been anywhere like this.

“I know, it’s amazing and it is only going to get better! These next few days are going to blow your mind so just take it in and enjoy, ok? You deserve this trip, Sophie, and I want you to enjoy every minute.” She hugs me tightly and turns to go. “You will be surprised at how fast you get used to all of this,” she says, waving her hand about the room. “I have to go get ready for dinner. If it’s not too late when we get back I’ll call you.”

“Sure.” I try to sound reassuring. “I’ll be fine, go. I am just happy to be here and I am so happy for you, and a little wiped out.”

“I am so happy you are here, too, I love you! Wish me luck!” And with that she was out the door.

***

“Rhys, I am so glad I caught you.” She breezes through my closed office door like an unwelcome draft, a heady cocktail of Chanel No. 5 and stale cigarette smoke. Just her presence in this office sets my body on high alert. To think of all the memories, all the surfaces we have fucked on. She is everywhere. I need to redecorate.

“You didn’t, Nadja. I am out the door, I am on a plane. I am in Miami.” I grab my duffle, slip my phone into my pocket and walk past her to the elevators. I was called away from the wedding festivities once already for this bullshit. I will not miss another minute of Matthew and Olivia’s celebration. Not for Nadja, not for her father, but I know her too well to think she will let it go. And as predicted when the elevator comes, she slides in next to me, thinking she has me trapped, no doubt. She needs some new tricks.

“Rhys, please.” Her faded Russian purr rattles down my spine like nails on a chalk board. “You know that this company is everything to my father. You cannot let this happen. Help him. Help him and I will do whatever you want.” She sidles up to me, her breath sickly sweet, an attempt to cover the smell of cigarettes and vodka, no doubt. I put my hands in my pockets and stare forward, determined not to give her an inch. “Please, for me?” Running her fingers down the lapel of my jacket, her eyes glow with an unearned triumph. I hate her ego, I hate that look. Batting her hands away, I push her into the corner and loom over her slight, stick like figure.

“You stay there,” I demand, glaring at her. She lowers her eyes, as she should. Straightening herself, she presses her hands against the cool, stainless steel walls of the elevator and waits. I back against the opposite wall and drop my bag. Scratching at the stubble along my jaw rouses the blood in my fingertips, it’s coarse and soft. Not my usual look, but I need a change. She raises her head, looking me dead in the eye, defiant little wench, watching me with those piercing blue eyes, and an inscrutable expression on her face. Narrowing her eyes at me, she rakes over my new scruffy face, wrinkling her turned up nose at the tight, dark, two day stubble that covers my jaw.

“You need to shave.” Her disgust is palpable, that alone makes me want to keep it.

“No, I don’t think I will. Now, I just spent the last three hours in meetings with Viktor and his investors. I am doing what I can to help him, within reason. I cannot take on a sinking ship, it is not good business. I am waiting for the final financials to come back. Once they do, we will have a better picture of what needs to be done. In the meantime, I am on my way to Miami. I will not be taking calls or working. I am a ghost for the next four days. I do not want to see you until I have to, do you understand?”

“What is in Miami, why go so early?” Her attempt to disarm me with her coy questions only fuels my frustration.