Into the light, p.32
Into the Light, page 32
Standing under the spotlight, her hand on her growing belly, her eyes meet mine. Then she smiles at me and it’s as though time stops. I’m transported back in time to the day we met. When I retrieved her ball and approached her. She smiled at me and in that moment something shifted inside. She opened a door I had long since closed. A door where I had tucked away my hopes and dreams. In her smile, I saw hope and possibility. I saw light at the end of the tunnel. It’s the same smile she gave me all those years ago. I knew then she was someone special and I wanted to make her mine. And now, I have.
Her smile exudes the warmth she has brought to my life, into my world. I wasted so many years living in the darkness. I allowed it to control me until it felt as if that’s who I was and who I deserved to be. But once again, Shay saved me. She saw the flicker of hope that I locked away and wouldn’t give up on me. I regret giving up on her, giving up on us, but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to her. With Shay by my side, I know I will never succumb to the darkness again. She exudes warmth, compassion, and bravery, and she makes me stronger.
Sophie whispers something into her ear and she laughs. The sound seems to radiate from the stage and fills every fiber of my being. While she may be the one in the spotlight, her smile fills me with that same sense of optimism I felt all those years ago. And I will never again take for granted its brilliance. I have stepped into the light once more—her light.
And our future burns bright.
A Note From J B
Thanks again for taking a chance on my book. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. As an author, it’s exhilarating and terrifying to put your words out into the world. It would mean a lot to me if you could take a minute and write a short review on the platform you purchased from. Reader reviews are a powerful tool to help others find new books, and especially helpful for us indie authors to reach new readers and keep doing what we love: writing.
About the Author
J B Glazer has always been an avid reader and loves nothing more than getting lost in a good book. A Chick Lit and Romance author, she writes fun and flirty books with a little bit of heat and a whole lot of heart. She believes in creating characters that are aspirational yet relatable and that a daily dose of chocolate is one of life's necessities. She’s also a wife, mom, blogger, chauffeur, referee, short-order cook, maid, chocoholic, shopaholic, and multitasker extraordinaire. J B has a thing for big, dramatic endings because that’s the fun of getting to happily ever after.
Visit www.jbglazer.com for random musings and other inspiration. You can also connect with J B in most of the usual places.
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Missed the first book in the series?
Veronica Clayton, the daughter of presidential hopeful Gary Clayton, knows she’s playing with fire when she meets self-made millionaire Rob Ashford. Confident and arrogant, he offers to fulfill her deepest desires. In her family, image is everything, and she knows she should refuse him. But it’s so tempting to dive headfirst into the flames. Read on for a sneak peek of Into the Fire, which is packed with heat and plenty of heart.
Available now!
Chapter 1
Veronica – Pretenses
I have never encountered a problem I couldn’t solve. Even when I was younger, I was able to reassemble a Rubik’s Cube in sixty seconds flat. I thrive on being able to navigate seemingly impossible situations, finding a solution no one thought could work. Like Olivia Pope, I’m a fixer. It’s only natural that I made a career out of it.
After I graduated college I wanted to see the world. Most twenty-somethings visit Italy, Spain, and France. But I’m not like most twenty-somethings. I went to places like Africa and Cambodia, wanting to help those who were less fortunate than me. I was moved by the women I met and the challenges and injustices they faced. I wanted to become an advocate and give them a voice. So I became involved in a number of non-profit organizations, most helping women and children. My father was happy to support my passion. I’m sure it helped that it reflected well on him and his political career. But unfortunately doing good doesn’t always pay the bills, so I entered the corporate world.
I still spend much of my free time dedicated to the causes I care about. And while I have a stimulating and satisfying career, good friends, a supportive family, and my own vintage apartment that I adore, I can’t help but feel as though the girl who has it all isn’t me. That this girl is playing the part of dutiful daughter and good citizen. I don’t deserve this comfortable life at the expense of others who have suffered. Now I’m paying my penance. I thought helping others would help heal me. But I’m the one thing that has proven unfixable. Someone on the outside looking in would never know my secret. I’ve never even told my family the impact my negligence has had on my life. I carry on as if everything is fine. But there’s a restlessness that follows me like a shadow. With time I’ve learned to bury it, but every once in a while it resurfaces, and I worry that my seemingly perfect life will go up in flames.
So I continue to play the part. I’ve become quite good at it. As a senator’s daughter, I’ve perfected the art of small talk, being gracious, polite and poised. I know how to evade a question I don’t want to answer and to never let my emotions reveal my true feelings. I don’t date much. The men I’ve met have proven it’s not worth my time. I’ve had one boyfriend since Kirk and, while he said he loved me, he didn’t. Because I never let him see the real me. I don’t know that he would have loved that girl.
These days work is my respite. There, no one cares who I am or who my father is. I work for a small think tank called Spark. We work with a select group of clients to help them solve the unsolvable. They bring us their business problems and we find solutions. My clients are often amazed at the possibilities we’ve uncovered at the end of just one session. I’ve come to realize it’s all in the way you look at something. I look at things differently than most.
When I arrive at work this morning there’s a nervous energy on the floor. Rumors of a buyout have been running rampant these past few weeks. I’ve kept my head down and my attention on solving my clients’ problems rather than creating my own. I’ve always tried not to focus my energies on what could be and focus on what is. Live in the here and now. Besides, I have a potential client coming in at eleven that I’ve been working on securing for months. Given we’re a small shop, we all wear many hats. I’m the lead strategist, but we’re all responsible for growing the business. Garrett Hasley is someone I would love to add to our client roster.
“Good morning,” I greet Sylvia, our receptionist and Office Manager.
“Hi, Veronica. I love your shoes.”
“Thanks,” I say as I place a Starbucks on her desk. That girl has a compliment for me every morning. It’s probably so I will keep bringing her a coffee. The arrangement works for me.
“Phil wants to see you.”
“OK, thanks.”
“He’s in the conference room,” she says, a dreamy expression on her face.
Phil is my mentor and the sole owner of Spark. While I don’t know much about Sylvia’s personal life, I very much doubt it’s Phil who has captured her interest. Unless she’s into fifty-something married men. I set my bag down in my office then head to our one meeting room, which serves as a conference room and sometimes brainstorm space. Before I walk in I smooth out my tank dress and check to make sure the pins I used to secure my hair are all in place. Satisfied that I look professional, I push open the door to greet my boss.
“Morning, Phil. Sylvia said you wanted to see me.” I stop dead in my tracks. Phil is not alone. He’s seated next to a man, more like an Adonis, who could easily grace the cover of GQ. He has short, golden brown hair, intense deep blue eyes, and a face that looks as though it were chiseled from stone. I grew up surrounded by good-looking men and over time I became immune to their looks and charm. I’m unnerved because I have never had such a visceral reaction to someone’s presence before. It could be his strong, square jaw with a cleft chin and a body that dwarfs Phil’s frame in comparison. His suit jacket stretches across his expansive shoulders and the fabric of his tailored shirt emphasizes the muscle that lies beneath. Nothing is out of place, from his perfectly groomed hair to his wrinkle free slacks to the knot of his striped, dark blue tie that perfectly complements his stormy eyes. His causal demeanor is in stark contrast with his formal attire. He seems perfectly at ease, sitting back in his chair with one leg crossed over his knee, a serious expression on his face. And he is watching me. Intently. There’s an aura about him that exudes confidence and power. He is the type of man who turns heads when he enters a room. And I suspect he captivates both men and women alike. I’ve found men attractive before, but his allure is on a different level. Phil makes introductions, breaking me from my reverie.
“Veronica, this is Rob Ashford. Rob, this is Veronica Clayton, the lead strategist I was telling you about.”
Intense blue eyes continue to stare back at me. But he says nothing. My years of training kick in and I approach him and extend a hand. “Nice to meet you,” I murmur.
He stands and towers over me. I’m five foot six, probably closer to five foot eight in my heels, but I’m dwarfed in comparison. His eyes rake over my face but his expression remains impassive. He takes my hand, which feels tiny clasped in his large one. Upon contact, his warmth radiates from my hand up through my arm, leaving a small ripple of tingles in its wake. It’s as though he has sent shockwaves through me. But if he felt anything his face gives nothing away.
“Likewise,” he says before releasing it.
“Rob is thinking about investing in the company. He’ll be here this week learning about the business. He’s signed an NDA and I’ve granted him clearance to sit in on all client meetings. He’s also requested to meet with each of our employees at his office. Jan will be putting a meeting on your calendar soon.”
I nod, even though the thought of this Greek god running our company makes me uneasy. Phil is very protective of the Spark brand, so I have no doubt about Rob’s qualifications if Phil is considering doing business with him, it’s myself I doubt in his presence. In the few minutes he’s been here he has managed to unnerve me without saying more than a single word. I realize they are expecting me to respond and I manage to get out a coherent thought. “Welcome, Mr. Ashford. Spark is an innovative company with a unique approach unlike any of our competitors. I think you will find your time here worthwhile.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” His words are perfectly innocent. But his tone and the way he absently strokes his chin while his gaze holds mine fills me with thoughts that are anything but pure.
“I look forward to our time together, Veronica.”
“Likewise,” I say, echoing his earlier sentiment.
Then I turn my attention back to Phil. “Please let me know how I can assist with the onboarding.”
We are interrupted by the arrival of Grant, my counterpart and sometimes nemesis.
“Rob! Good to meet you.” He saunters over and extends a hand. “I just read your interview with Crain’s. I’d love to pick your brain about biotech stocks. Your assessment was spot on.”
How is it that Grant always has a leg up over me?
“Thank you, Veronica,” Phil says. “I’ll see you for our three o’clock.”
I nod and cast one last look at Rob before leaving the room.
I return to my office, somewhat dazed. We only exchanged two sentences, but I’m officially rattled. I’m never rattled. Rob Ashford will be a problem. It’s a good thing I’m very adept at solving problems. I fix the unfixable.
Chapter 2
Rob – Greedy Bastard
She’s even more beautiful in person. Of course I researched all of Spark’s staff before agreeing to take a meeting. Her photo doesn’t do her justice. She captivated me right away with her accomplishments alone. And the fact that she’s giving to those less fortunate tells me she’s compassionate. The persona on paper was at odds with the woman I met today. I wasn’t expecting Veronica to be so aloof. She was by all means professional and treated me like the potential investor I am. But it seemed that she put up a front. I want to break through all the bullshit and see what she’s really like. It’s unlike me to have those expectations, especially because I can’t promise the same in return. But I’m a greedy bastard, so it’s par for the course.
At ten o’clock the ding of the elevator door signals her arrival. I don’t have a full office staff here like I do in New York. It hasn’t been warranted—-until now. I have a feeling I’ll be spending a lot more time in Chicago. The doors open and our eyes meet across the expanse of the lobby. Her hair is once again pulled back in a loose bun framing her delicate face. She’s dressed on the conservative side in a blouse tucked into a pencil skirt. At least I’ll have a nice view on the way out. She is understated compared to many of the women I know. There’s a quiet beauty about her.
I minimize the photo on my screen as she approaches. It’s one I found of her and her father from a political fundraising gala. Her long, dark brown hair is loose, spilling past her shoulders and ending just below her breasts. It’s glossy and thick, the kind of hair I imagine most women would envy. She’s wearing a tasteful cocktail dress that accentuates the curves of her petite frame. But perhaps what captivated me most were her expressive violet eyes. Elizabeth Taylor eyes. They hold a hint of mirth, as though the photographer was in on a shared joke. I want that version of the woman who now stands in front of me.
“Veronica, thanks for meeting with me.”
“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Ashford.”
“You can call me Rob. Can I get you anything?” I ask as I walk her to my office.
“I’m fine. Thank you for asking,” she says as she takes in the sparse surroundings.
“This is a temporary space. My home base is New York, so I only use this office from time to time.”
She nods.
“Sit, please,” I say, motioning toward the chair across from my desk.
She places her bag at her feet and crosses one leg over the other. She has great legs—-long and shapely. My eyes linger on the expanse of creamy skin. Not that I’m staring, it’s just hard to ignore when she’s sitting two feet away. Her eyes travel to the file on my desk.
“I would love to hear more about your interest in Spark.”
I was not expecting her to try to take control of the meeting. But I’m pleasantly surprised by it.
“We’ll get to that. I want to learn more about you first. Tell me something about yourself,” I prompt.
She raises an eyebrow. “What do you want to know that you haven’t already uncovered?”
I hide my smile. “Are you implying I’ve looked you up?”
“Haven’t you? I would do the same if I were in your situation.”
I lean forward in my chair. “I’ll take the bait. Veronica Clayton. Age twenty-eight. Graduated from Bryn Mawr. Daughter of Senator Gary Clayton. Been with Spark two years as their lead strategist. Highly regarded by your clients. You have a reputation as a fixer of sorts.”
She smiles. “I don’t need to read you my résumé then. You know everything there is to know about me.”
“Not everything. I hope you don’t think a few facts I gathered from the Internet summarizes who you are as a person.”
“Well, everything pertinent to this conversation, at least.”
Damn. This girl is all business.
“What else would you like to know?” She regards me with those exquisite eyes of hers and holds my gaze. I stare back and bring my pen to my lips in thought. Her eyes follow and I bite down on the tip. Her lips part and my dick twitches in my pants. I take my time before speaking, and if she’s uncomfortable she doesn’t let it show. As I said, a true professional.
“When I invest in a company, I invest in its people.”
“Is this the part where you ask me where I see myself in five years?”
“Since you mentioned it, indulge me.”
She furrows her brow. “I honestly don’t know. I’m happy with where I am at the moment. I try to live in the here and now. I could try and predict where I’d want to be, but I’ve found life has a way of paving new paths. I’ll just see where it takes me.”
“That’s very Zen of you.” I wouldn’t have pegged her to be one to go with the flow. She seems…uptight.
“Is it? And here I thought I was being a realist.” She smiles. “I prefer Zen.”
She has a beautiful smile. It’s not a feature I typically give much merit—-until now. There is a quiet grace about her. It comes through in the way she carries herself and the way she speaks. I’m mesmerized by her—-her voice, her gestures, her mannerisms. She tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and in that moment, she reminds me of Eva. I quickly dismiss the thought, not wanting to think about her and our failed relationship.
“So no five year plan. Do you anticipate still working for Spark?”
“It’s hard to say. Spark is an amazing company and I think we’re doing groundbreaking work. I get satisfaction knowing I’m helping my clients overcome their challenges and grow their business. I’d like to think I’m making a difference. Ultimately that’s what drives me. I want to know that I’ve made a difference.”
“It seems to me you have.”
She shrugs. “It just never seems like enough.”
“There are always going to be problems. People who are less fortunate than you. For most people knowing they helped even one person would be enough. I’ve read about your charitable work both abroad and here in the city. You’ve helped countless women and children. From where I’m sitting you’ve done plenty. More than enough.”
