Dirty Boss: A Second Chance Romance (3 page)

“I think we need to get out of here,” he muttered as if he read her thoughts precisely. He was already standing up and taking her with him.

Emily didn’t know how but Shannon was beside them in an instant.

“What is going on here?” she demanded.

Emily sniffed and attempted to explain but Ryan beat her to it.

“I guess you are the friend she came with. I am Ryan Jones and I will just be taking her out for a walk,” he said. “She is safe with me, I promise.” He added.

Shannon looked into his eyes for a long moment while he held her gaze. Shannon gave a small nod at last as if coming to a decision. Without another word, she hugged Emily and turned back on her heels. Some part of Emily recognized that Shannon had just helped her make a decision about Ryan and pronounced him safe enough to be with her friend. She decided that if Shannon thought he was safe, then he must truly be; her Irish friend was never wrong about an individual’s personality in all the four years they had been together.

She followed Ryan out of the hall.

He took her to an ice cream bar.

They both sat outside a nearby convenience store in the dark of the night with the stars smiling down at them both. Ryan had not said a word concerning her sordid tale but he was with her emotionally, she felt it. She wondered how he was able to do it; showing her his support without so much as a single word.

Strangely, her mind was completely blank as she dug into her plate of ice cream.

“You did not kill them.” She heard him say.

She looked up into his eyes. They shone like a cat’s in the neon signs of the store and the night stars. They bored right into hers. His plate of ice cream remained unopened in front of him.

She nodded her head slowly.

“I know,” she whispered, “though they would still be alive if it weren’t for my petulance.”

Ryan was shaking his head.

“Maybe they would but you don’t know that for sure. There are a thousand and one ways to die, Emily,” he said with a sad inflection in his voice. Before she could dwell on it, he talked on. “Shit happens and we sometimes allow it or cause it to happen but when it does, the greatest mistake we do, the greatest ill we do to ourselves is allow ourselves be soaked up in the shit. When we do this, Emily, we will be living a life of worry. We put our lives on hold for nothing but conjectures when we should only try to become a better person in the most positive way.”

She stared at his lips as they moved. If she were to place his age, he couldn’t be more than two or three years older than her twenty-two but his words revealed a wisdom beyond his years. As much as she was intrigued by his words, she also knew that they were true.

“I know. It is just hard to let go,” she said to him.

“What would your parents have you do?” he asked suddenly.

His question came as a blow to her senses. There was no doubt that her parents wouldn’t have blamed her for their death. They were most loving and kind, their only fault was loving their daughter so immensely. They would still want her to be the best she could be.

“Emily, your parents’ death should have taught you the most vital of lessons; life is short and you have to live it to the fullest. Aim high, shoot higher; go for your dreams; scream with friends; make yourself happy. It is the
only
way to live,” he said.

She didn’t know what to say in the face of his wise words. Spoon in hand, she stared at him. He returned her stare for a moment before opening his plate and beginning to eat. Still clueless about what to say, she dug her spoon into hers and began to eat too.

As they sat on the table, eating their ice cream, she remembered the awful teenager that she had been.

Her parents were hardworking citizens that almost never took a single day off. However, they always had time for their only daughter and child. She was raised with love and affection, perhaps too much. Selfish, spoilt and self-centered did not begin to describe her as she always got what she wanted. In the end, she learnt the hard way that life was not a bed of roses, you had to work for it to have it.

She wished she had learnt that before her parents’ death.

Steadily afterwards, her grandmother had helped her to get back to her feet. She owed her life to the woman, she thought. Living with her had taught her to be responsible for her actions and mature. She learnt how to think for herself and for others. She learnt how to be selfless instead of self-absorbed. She taught herself to be thoughtful of other people’s feelings, she taught herself to think before taking actions. She related less to other people; the less she did, the lesser the chance of hurting them, wasn’t it?

Where had she gone wrong? she thought. She didn’t want to hurt others with her selfishness ever again.

Gradually, she had let go of the guilt of her parents’ death but with a promise to constantly be better. Perhaps, she had taught herself too well, she considered. She decided that she was way too cautious, too thoughtful, too introverted; Shannon had said so too.

Now, this guy, Ryan was in effect saying the same thing; that she was overdoing it, overplaying her guilt and putting her life on hold.

Was there a middle ground, she wondered. She decided to try.

When they finished the ice cream, she asked him to take her home. He hailed a cab without questions. Through the ride, she expected him to demand at least a comment or reaction to his speech from a while ago but he only held her hand in his. It was like he had said his bit and the rest were entirely up to her. She was beginning to respect him for this; he only advised and suggested, never pushed. Again, she wondered how he became so wise.

Perhaps, she should have asked but she didn’t. When they reached the small apartment she shared with Shannon, she invited him in. She was feeling a bit hazy and woozy from too much wine, the emotional dredge and ice cream. He closed the door behind him and turned to face her. She took her first impulsive moment and kissed him on the lips.

It was unlike any feeling she ever had before. She felt both hot and cold immediately and simultaneously. It was like an electric current ran between their lips at the touch, enough to take her breath away. His gaze flew to hers, his fingers came up to touch his lips and then hers. Her senses tingled at the touch.

This time, there was nothing impulsive about it. Staring into his eyes, she reached up on her tiptoes and brought her mouth to his. At first, he stood rigid as his lips touched hers unmoving then that electric feeling sizzled again. He made a low sound deep in his throat and snatched her to his chest. His lips descended on hers with such tenderness and passion that she was swept off her feet. She reached for him, groping his chest and every other part of his body that she could reach between them.

He grabbed her butt and pushed her up and closer such so that she could feel his erection. She moaned and rubbed herself against him drawing a hiss from him. She put her hands underneath his polo to caress his bare stomach, running her hand all the way across his chest.

“Sweet Jesus!” he muttered as if in pain. “Are you sure about this Emily?” he asked, trying to pull away from her.

She didn’t answer his question. She brought her lips back to his and kissed him deeper. He had said she was not taking chances but he was the one trying to be the gentleman when she wanted him to be wild with her. She took another impulsive decision. Ryan sighed pleasurably as she brought a hand down to squeeze his hard erection. Wrapping her legs around his butt, she ground her pelvis into him.

The action seemed to drive him wild as he turned and pushed her up against the wall. He held her there with his hips and without halting the kiss, he reached for the boat neck of her black dress and yanked it down to reveal two ripe breasts with rosy tips; she wasn’t wearing a bra. His eyes were fixed on her breasts and his mouth hung open as if he was afraid to touch them. Tilting her chest upwards, she reached for the nape of his neck and pushed his mouth to one nipple. She shuddered as a hot breath grazed over her breast and his wet tongue touched her nipple.

He began to suckle her gently just as she delved her fingers into his luxurious hair, massaging his scalp and writhing in ecstasy. Without stopping, he dragged her dress down past her hips and let it fall to the floor. His hands found her panties and slipped his fingers inside. She was already soaking wet and his fingers slid in easily. Her mind went wild with lust and she bucked into his hands.

“So tight,” he said into her mouth, “So fucking tight.”

She only kissed him deeper.

“Where is the bedroom?” he asked urgently.

Now, he was talking, she thought with an inward triumphant smile. She pointed a finger in the direction of her bedroom and he liften her up. He reached their small room in ten powerful strides with his finger still inside her and a breast in his mouth while she threw her head back, making small mewling sounds that seemed to drive him wilder.

“Oh Emily.”

Ryan was as exhilarated and aroused as she was. Emily reached for his torso with the palm of one hand began to fondle his bulge with the other. He was as hard as a rock. He groaned when she dared to reach for the solid mound of flesh inside his trousers and drag it out. She began to stroke him up and down, each groan only intensifying her excitement.

“Emily.” He cried again.

Something inexplicable had taken control of Emily. She forgot about being thoughtful or disciplined. The only thing that she could think of was Ryan burying his hard member inside her.

Hell,
I long for his cock deep inside me!

It was the truth. She didn’t care about how impure her thoughts were.
Pleasure.
This was the only word that she could think of.

Ryan stopped suckling her nipple and began to trace kisses from her neck down to her abdomen. He moved lower, slowly plastering his lips on her warm pussy and then flicking his tongue smoothly over her clit. It was incredible. Emily lost control of all her thought, her speech and her energy; just as his tongue penetrated the insides of her pussy.

When he stopped to glance up at her, Emily smiled looked down at him begging with her eyes that she wanted him now. Finally, she muttered her first words since the raw animal hunger took over her senses.

“Fuck me, Ryan,” she whispered, “I want you deep inside me.”

That was all he needed.

When she felt the heavy shove of his cock inside her, Emily gave in to all her feelings. She felt connected like she never had before. She urged to go deeper, harder and faster. Her ecstasy built up with each of his powerful strokes. Harder and faster he went, driving into her with everything he had, and just as she started to climax he screamed out a low guttural sound as he spilt his seed into her.

Spent, they both fell into a blissful sleep.

*********

The next morning, he was gone before she woke up. It was as if he was never there, like she never met him. There was absolutely no evidence that he had been in her room at all except the feeling between her thighs and note he left on her pillow. It was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes and she knew immediately that he was gone. There were only three words written on the paper in a large manly scrawl.

I am sorry.

Holding the paper to her chest, she thought about everything that happened. He might be sorry but she wasn’t. It was the most delicious night of her life and she was going to hold it dear. It seemed that Ryan Jones had his own woes but he had managed to make her let go of hers and see through her cocoon last night. Just like he respected her decision last night, she was going to respect his. She was not going to seek him out or try to find him. He had been hesitant to make love to her but she had left him with no choice; he was a perfect gentleman all through, her perfect gentleman.

Curiously, she was certain that he had a reason for leaving her this way and she understood even though she had no idea what his reasons were. Everything that happened last night was startlingly clear in her mind and she had no intention of ever forgetting. They were going to be her memories to keep.

He wouldn’t be there to see her change but she was going to. Taking a determined breath, she got out of bed. The first thing she grabbed was a pair of scissors.

Shannon found her in front of the mirror, cutting off her hair.

July, 2016

His little ray of sunshine was gone.

Tears were streaming down his face onto the picture in his hand but Ryan Jones barely noticed. He traced his fingers along the frame of the picture, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.

How was he to live without his little sunshine?
He asked himself for the umpteenth time over the last two hours since the doctor told him the news.

Hardly anyone would believe that Claire was not his but he loved her like his own. She was the brightest child in the entire world despite being born with Down Syndrome. Right from the start, the doctors had warned him that she would not live into her teenage years but his heart had hoped and refused to believe that Claire would leave him.

“It was a miracle that she lived this long,” the doctor had said.

Ryan had really wanted to smash his fist into the doctor’s face. How was eleven years of living a miracle? It was damned too short! For the past eleven years, it had been him and his little sunshine. Despite her medical condition, Claire was bright, fun and she had filled all the void spaces in his heart and now, he couldn’t imagine living without her.

Why?
He asked all over again.

Why did she have to suffer this fate? He wondered bitterly. Claire was only a baby; his baby and she shouldn’t have been born with the disease that finally claimed her life. He remembered clearly the circumstances that led to her birth; who could ever forget? It was twelve years ago and he was sixteen years old; he wasn’t even an adult by then but fate had thrown him a fast ball so cruel that he lost his youth forever in that year.

The year of Claire’s conception was the most gruesome one of his life. He should have known better, he could have done better but in the end, he hadn’t. Those months, he had lived in a haze, blaming himself for everything while shuffling from the police department to the hospital and then from the court to the hospital again. The paparazzi would not let him rest either and besieged him everywhere he went. At night, he would drink himself to sleep, wishing everyone would just leave him the hell alone.

His misery had continued for seven months until Claire was born prematurely. Jasmine, Claire’s mother had suddenly gone into labor for torturous hours before finally giving birth to a squealing infant in the hospital where she had been all through the pregnancy.

He was there in the delivery room from start to finish, sweating, cursing, hoping and praying. When the baby slid out, full of blood and goo, Jasmine was alive only long enough to see her baby held up by the doctor’s. The stress of the past seven months finally got to him and the last thought on his mind before he collapsed was that
she
was lucky to escape it all into death. He wished he would too.

He was out for just a short time and woke to find himself on a stretcher. The doctors and nurses obviously did not have time for a fainting teenager when they were still trying to save the baby and her mother. When he opened his eyes, the nurse was cleaning up the baby beside him. He instantly knew that there was something wrong with the baby with the way her skull and hands were proportioned.

However, his attention was not held by the deficiency he noticed in that instant. He was pulled by the baby’s eyes on him, it was like her steadfast gaze had woken him up from his faint, urging him to come back to her. There was no way he could be sure but he could have sworn that the baby smiled when his eyes clashed with hers.

“Ryan, thank God you are awake. The baby has not taken her eyes off you since you fainted.” The nurse said to him in a relieved voice. He barely heard her; he was fascinated by the baby’s eyes.

They were a pair of brilliant gold; exactly like his.

Her hair though fairer, was blonde like her mother’s but there was no mistaking that she had his eyes. And she was staring unblinkingly at him. He was entranced and instantly captivated. For him, that was the most defining moment of his life. He had fallen in love for the first time. Losing his mom when he was only three and growing up with his busy father as he did, he couldn’t lay claims to being loved or having ever loved, but the tiny baby in the nurse’s hand had him wrapped around her little finger in less than three seconds of setting eyes on her.

“Claire,”
he had whispered to her.

When the nurse was through, she placed the girl in his hands and his heart almost dropped at how fragile she was. But his Claire was not fragile of heart. Still holding his gaze, her tiny fingers latched onto his thumb as if to trying to tell him something.

“We are in this together,”
he fancied she was saying to him. In that moment, though she was not formed from his sperm, she immediately became his.

An hour later, the doctor diagnosed her with Down syndrome. At first, he was heartbroken for his baby. However, he made up his mind to love her as much as he could. Perhaps, love would help her evade the death that the doctor warned him would surely come to lay claim to her life before long, he had convinced himself.

He had been wrong.

Loving his Claire was the greatest thing he had ever done, he knew without a single doubt. And she had loved him too. Oh, how his Claire had loved him. From the moment he brought her home from the hospital, she wouldn’t sleep anywhere else except on his chest. Loving her had helped him to love himself too and he retraced his footsteps to pick up the broken pieces of his life. He learnt to forgive his father and let go of the past. He brushed himself up and took reign of his father’s companies, teaching himself along the way.

As soon as he was stable, he had employed the best specialist doctors to care for her medically and a live-in nurse to cater for her needs when he couldn’t be with her. He never spent a night away from her if there was absolutely no need. One of such moments was when he had to go to college. Schooling for him had been on hold since the ‘incident’ surrounding Claire’s conception hit the news but after Claire’s birth, he realized that he wanted to complete his education not for his own sake but so that he could lay a good precedent for his daughter. He started school again on her first birthday. He was the oldest in his class but he did not mind in the least; he lived only for his Claire. Another three years and he gained admission into the University of Georgia.

That was when Claire spoke her first word. She called him ‘da’.

He hadn’t wanted to go, he hated to leave her alone for long periods of time but he was assured in the knowledge that Nina, the nurse he employed loved Claire as much as he did, perhaps even more. She was the one who finally persuaded him to go. College did nothing to distract him from home. He didn’t live in school, attending classes infrequently just so he would not miss any stage of her growth.

Watching Claire grow was pure bliss. Though her development was slow, she was bright and loving. She was patient and she understood him like no one else ever did. She was his best friend as he was hers. They braved the world together and took solace in each other’s company.

With her, he learnt to smile, play and have fun. Knowing that she didn’t have long to live despite the tiny hope in his heart, he spent every waking moment of his life to make each day her best yet.

Gradually as she grew, defying death each year, he learnt to live for the moment and worry less about what tomorrow held for them both. Wanting a normal life for her, he enrolled her in school when she was five and taught her at home by himself whenever he could. During the holidays, they would visit interesting places in different parts of the world. He soon took to taking pictures of her everywhere they went and discovered that he had an interest in photography.

“Da, you would make the best photographer.” Claire told him one day when they were both looking at the pictures of them that he had taken during their visit to the Eiffel tower.

Her words opened the gates to a hobby for him and he took to it like fish to water. He had countless pictures of pictures of places, people, animals and more of Claire to show for it. Graduation from college set him free once more to spend time with his daughter and pursue his hobby; his companies were expanding and money had never been an issue.

Everything had been right and perfect in his world. He had no idea that it was all soon going to end.

Claire had come down with an inexplicable fever some days ago and he rushed her to the hospital. Treatment commenced immediately and she was starting to get better only to slump barely minutes after she was discharged and he brought her home again.

There had been no goodbyes; it was so sudden that he still didn’t believe that she was gone. He had taken her to the hospital again, pleading with the doctor to revive her but it was useless. The doctor said she died even before they made it back to hospital.

His entire world was thrown into darkness. His ray of sunshine was gone.

He looked at the picture in his hand again, the tears now coming faster and harder. It was one of the pictures he took of her recently when they went to Japan during the school holidays. She had been so happy and free.

He brought the picture to his chest and cried some more. How was he going to live without Claire?

*********

Breathing heavily, Ryan stopped punching the bag in the gym and dropped to the floor. He was tired already but he still felt like hitting the bag till he either lost consciousness or hurt himself.

He missed Claire.

The gym had been set up in the house for her only last year. Her doctor, Dr. Vamp was of the opinion that she could gain more strength in her body if she exercised frequently but lightly. He wasted no time in building an exercise room in their house worthy of the best in the world. The punching bag came five days after her death and he spent the better part of his days and nights in here, punching the bag. It was exactly one month after her death today.

He rose up to punch the bag again but felt a hand on his bare shoulder.

It was Nina, Claire’s nurse. The older woman had been with him for eleven years now and felt his grief. Even after Claire’s death when he informed her that she could go back to her home in Riverside with a huge settlement from him, she declined his offer and continued to stay with him. He knew that she thought that he would probably kill himself or do something crazy but she didn’t know that he couldn’t as much as he wanted to.

When Claire was nine years old, she had gone for one of her frequent check-ups in the hospital where she learned that she didn’t have too long to live. She had come home to him, not crying but with a brave face and a mission. She made him promise to be happy if she did die. She wanted him to get married and give birth to cute siblings for her; she would watch over them all from heaven, she had said. She coerced him into making a pinky promise, while he prayed there would be no need to fulfil his promise.

Now, he was stuck. How was he supposed to fulfil his promise to her when he didn’t even want to live?

“It is enough. You will only hurt yourself.” Nina said quietly.

He turned to her with grief stricken face.

“I miss her Nina. I miss her so much every day. What am I going to do?” He asked her desolately.

Nina took him by the elbow and guided him to a seat in the room.

“You know what Claire would have loved you to do.” She told him, handling him a bottle of chilled water.

He took the bottle from her but did not open it.

“She wanted me to move on, she told me already.” He whispered.

Nina nodded. “I know.” He looked over at her and she smiled sadly. “She told me. She also said that I should ensure that you kept your promise too.”

He shook his head. His sunshine had left no stone unturned as much as she could.

“It is hard, so damned hard.” He said.

“Believe me, I know. I loved her like no other too.” Nina had tears in her eyes now but she sniffed them back, stubbornly refusing to let them fall. They both fell silent, lost in thought.

“I have been thinking,” Nina spoke up, “I think you should go back to photography. Claire loved it and you are so good at it.” She proclaimed.

He remained silent, wondering where she was going with this. She was right however; Claire would have wanted him to continue with his hobby no matter what.

“There is this International Fashion Show coming up. My son is registered as one of the photographers but his wife gave birth prematurely and he is refusing to leave her side; it’s his first child, you see. When he told me of this, I thought you could take his place.” She explained, looking at him warily as if she could already guess what his answer would be.

He started to shake his head but she raised a hand. “Think of Claire,” she said.

At a loss for what to say or do, he opened the bottle of water and brought it to his mouth. He gulped down the water without feeling the chill wash down his throat. He couldn’t imagine taking pictures of models and clothes when Claire was dead but that was exactly what Nina was asking him to do. She got him hooked too; Claire would have wanted him to go for it.

“Where is this Show taking place?” he asked on a sigh.

There was a suspicious silence from the woman seated next to him.