Page 1 of Saving Soul
1
He saw the ring.
I knew he did.
The lingering gaze on my hand was his irrefutable admission. So, why was he still approaching me?
My wedding ring was my shield against every man who took a second glance. Only, this guy’s eyes didn’t waver. If anything, his pupils dilated. From the moment he walked into that Midtown Manhattan bar, his piercing gaze caught mine and refused to budge.
Sitting at the far side of the bar, I tilted my head enough to let my golden beach waves tumble over my face to hide the heat in my cheeks. I wasn’t used to attention. Marrying my first love at eighteen meant I never had to venture into the wilderness to find a mate. While all my friends were off clubbing and having epic one-night stands, I’d had other priorities.
Shifting uncomfortably on the barstool, I peeked through my hair, praying his gaze had moved to his next option, but alas, there he was. Staring…pondering…smirking.Dang.
The mere upward tilt of his lips shot straight to my core.Hello there, stranger.It had been years since my body reacted in such a way—and never so instantaneously. This man was a magician…and incredibly sexy, standing well over six feet tall with alluring broad shoulders that belonged in a swimming pool. His striking stubbled jawline and scruffy blond hair were a total contradiction to his immaculately tailored business suit, making me wonder if, perhaps, his day had been as shitty as mine.
My heart lurched as he lifted his drink from the counter and sauntered through the bar in my direction. He oozed confidence, unlike myself with beads of sweat winding down my neck to where I toyed with the crystal dangling between my breasts. This was the sort of guy who knew what he wanted and took it, and the sheer thought had my heart pounding and my core pulsing below.
While my friends were only now settling down and having kids, me? I was a seasoned pro. But this?Fuck. I was in over my head. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t this girl. What would Dominic think?Fuck. Why did that even matter anymore? It had been four years.
Maybe this was a good thing. No one but my sister knew me in Manhattan, so there was no harm in pretending to be someone else for one night. With sleep off the cards, a man like him would make the perfect distraction while I waited for the outcome of my interview.
After the day I’d had, I didn’t fancy returning to Amy’s miniscule apartment, so this made for a tempting solution. If I didn’t get that damn job, the almost windowless abode would directly reflect the claustrophobic situation I was in, and it was sure to break me.
I glanced down at my embarrassingly old cell phone resting on the bar and blew out an irritated sigh before pouring the remains of my bank balance down my throat. I needed that job. It was our ticket home and they had assured me they would make a decision by the end of the day.
With only minutes remaining, the weight of my reality crashed down with my empty glass. While my interviewers tucked themselves into their thousand-thread-count sheets, completely oblivious to the impact of their indecision, I had to endure another sleepless night scheming up plan B, or C, or whatever fucking letter was up next.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like living in upstate New York; it was that Ilovedliving in Los Angeles. I craved the sun, and the beach, and holding the memories of my grandmother close. After my mother died, my sister and I were sent to live with Grams in Venice Beach while our father struggled to come to terms with the death of his wife. She provided us with a safe space to grieve, then nurtured us through our child and teen years, when our father couldn’t.
Grams taught Amy and me to embrace the gifts, that would’ve otherwise been ignored. While Amy was gifted at capturing glimpses of the future, I was an empath. Not only did I know what other people were feeling, I could feel it too. It was a gift and a curse at the same time.
Swirling his neat whiskey, the sexiest man alive parted the crowd like fucking Moses and dropped onto the barstool beside me. “Hey,” he uttered with an arrogant nod before taking a sip.
My eyebrows lifted, more out of amusement than interest. “Hey…” With the first glimpse of his eyes up close, my breath caught. No human could have eyes that blue.
“A beautiful woman like you really shouldn’t be drinking alone.” His voice was as smooth as his expensive silk tie.
“I’m not alone…”—the apples of my cheeks lifted with my smile— “…anymore.”Damn girl, who are you?
His eyebrows lifted, seemingly surprised. Perhaps I had him fooled.
I purposely used my ring-bearing left hand to raise my empty glass, waiting for the penny to drop, but still no reaction. If anything, my subtle attempt to deter him only made the corner of his mouth rise.Fuck, that’s hot.
“Looks like you need a refill,” he said, lifting his finger to the barman before peeking back at my glass. “Gin and tonic?” With my nod, he signaled another round before leaning closer. “Celebrating or commiserating?”
My smile grew tight. “Commiserating…I think.”
His eyes narrowed. “You think?”
“I had a job interview today.” I tapped my cell. “They said they’d let me know by tonight, and well, it’s almost tomorrow.”
The gorgeous man leaned back in his chair, watching me. “How do you think it went?”
“Terribly. The interviewer was a complete bitch.”
“And you still want the job?”
My stomach roiled. “Ineedthe job.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1 (reading here)
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
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- Page 32
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- Page 39
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