CHAPTER ONE
When it came to parties, Lauren Montez thought the Raven Advertising Company’s holiday extravaganza had reached a new standard for excellence.
The December night on the Gulf Coast was cool and calm as the party on the hundred-foot luxury yacht kicked into overdrive. This had been the best year on record for Raven, a full-service ad agency located in Dallas, and their CEO had gone all out for the celebration. They’d been pulled into platinum territory this year by Lauren’s account with a winery in Napa Valley, which credited her campaign with their best sales year on record. And all she’d done was remind folks why they loved wine. It was almost too easy. Laura expected a hefty bonus to round out the year, which would easily pull her income into the mid-six figures.
It would more than justify the price of the sparkly red-and-white Valentino dress she wore tonight, paired with matching Manolo pumps. Under the slinky dress, which accentuated every curve, she wore a black Victoria’s Secret thong and plunging demi bra she hoped someone would be skillfully removing later tonight. Someone by the name of Drew Poindexter, the CEO’s son and a gorgeous dark-haired man, wearing a double-breasted Italian suit. Great taste. Even greater stock portfolio.
They’d been dancing around each other for months in a sexually charged cat-and-mouse game. Unfortunately, he’d brought along a date, though given the smoldering looks he kept sending Lauren, he didn’t intend to go home with said woman. Lauren avoided messy romantic entanglements, but Drew was a different story. They seemed well suited for each other, or maybe that was the champagne talking. Either way, they were both workaholics with ruthless ambition.
And face it, it would be nice, since she’d imagine not too many girls raised by poor grandparents wound up with the son of a CEO. If only her earliest detractors could see her now. All those mean kids that made fun of her for living on a farm. They were probably all working their nine-to-five ordinary jobs, living on a tight budget, in misery.
Laughter and clinking glasses merged with the string quartet hired to play Christmas music. Her assistant, Katrina, was with a dark-haired man who wouldn’t leave her side, like a lovesick puppy. Good for her. She was a beautiful twenty-six-year-old woman in the prime of her life and should be playing the field. Their receptionist, Priscilla, was dressed in a ridiculous Mrs. Santa dress, wearing a reindeer headband. Her constant cheer was almost too much for Lauren. She was not a big fan of celebrating Christmas since her grandparents had died years ago, but she had to come to this party every year anyway.
“No, thank you,” Lauren said when offered duck confit for the umpteenth time.
She’d been offered truffled canapes and oysters on the half shell, too, but she was sticking to a steady diet of champagne. It took hard work and quite a bit of sacrifice to fit her five-foot-nine frame into this dress, thank you very much. Tonight, she looked and felt like she’d been poured into it.
Harry Poindexter approached, handing her another flute of champagne. A waiter skillfully took the half-full one out of her hands and placed it on a tray.
“Another banner year, thanks to you.” Harry cocked his head and flashed a grin. “I never want to lose you to another firm, so just say the word. Whatever you want, you get. Corner office? Yours. Hefty expense account? Done.”
She already had all of those things. Her eyes briefly flitted to Drew, who’d loosened his tie and was puffing on a cigar. She smiled, finding a man who’d loosened his tie the sexiest thing on the planet. Drew’s date caught Lauren looking and glared.
Drew, oblivious, caught Lauren’s eyes and winked.
Lauren smiled at Harry. “I’m very happy here. If that ever changes, you’ll be the first to know.”
“See that I am!” He waggled his index finger.
What Harry didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. She’d arranged to have a week off after tonight, rare vacation time, because she had an interview with a headhunter agency in Denver that had been actively trying to recruit her. She couldn’t ever leave her native Texas, but fact was that having another firm competing for her would only add to her net worth. It meant another significant raise and more of Poindexter’s utter devotion when she chose to stay. Win-win.
“I want you to have a great vacation, enjoy yourself, and be ready to kill it when you get back!”
“Oh, I will. I plan to lounge poolside and chill.”
Please. She’d never lounged poolside a day in her life. And chill? That was for wine.
A waiter came by with a tray of half oysters and Harry took one. A good-looking man in his sixties, he had a soft stomach and a dad bod, unlike his built son. One could still see the hint of the handsome man he must have been at one time. He and Drew had the same patrician nose and full head of hair, though Harry’s had gone all silver.
No sooner had Harry been whisked away than Drew appeared at her elbow. “What are you doing later?”
“Last minute packing. I’m leaving on my vacation tomorrow.”
He tugged on a lock of her hair. “Can I see you tonight?”
Lauren quirked a brow and slid a look in the direction of his date. “Aren’t you busy enough?”
“It’s not serious,” Drew said. “She’s an old fling and comes with me to these things just to meet new people.”
“You’re wrong, Drew. She’s into you.”
Ironic the way some men refused to see what was right in front of them.
“It’s not mutual.”
“Pictures!” The cry came from Harry’s wife of forty years, a sweet woman who either didn’t realize Harry cheated on her on a regular basis, or didn’t care. “Let’s all line up here in front of the grand piano.”
Photos were taken, and Lauren wound up in a row in front of Drew. Moments later, his warm hand slid down her back to her behind. It didn’t move until several shots were taken. Oh, the boldness. So attractive. She turned to him, and he lowered his head with a wicked grin.
“Sorry, but not sorry. It was as wonderful as I imagined.”
“Hmm. Do you want to get out of here?”
His eyebrows quirked in surprise. “Yes. I just have to…do something first. I’ll take care of her…um, that situation and then we can go somewhere with a bit more…privacy.”
Lauren wouldn’t ever be a party to cheating if the woman was a girlfriend but Drew made it clear this wasn’t serious. Even if Lauren believed the woman felt differently, it was better she find out about Drew’s intentions now. Lauren certainly wished she’d learned a man’s true colors before she fell for him. It had happened more than once. Lauren used to dissolve into tears when a man cast her aside but crying didn’t change a thing.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried over anything, much less a man.
At one point, she’d realized that being happy with her life would be entirely up to her and not on any man satisfying her needs, sexual or otherwise. That day, she’d declared her freedom and independence from men and all the hopes of forever love. Since then, she’d controlled the things she could and left the rest open to chance. Tonight, she would have her first night with a sexy man she’d been thinking about for weeks. It might lead to something. Or not. She was too smart to expect loyalty from a man who would get rid of his date just so he could have a new sexual conquest.
Drew headed to the woman, took her arm, and led her to another room. Once, that young and confused woman had been her. Wondering why she wasn’t enough. Some people said she was pretty. Certainly, she was tall, and now (thanks to yoga and a strict Paleo diet) lean. But most men didn’t really appreciate her attention to detail and need to impress. She’d even dated a celebrity once, who told her that she should really learn how to Netflix and relax. Lauren didn’t relax. She achieved. She slayed her goals.
Lauren wandered up the steps to the upper deck and strolled, enjoying the cool evening breeze when it ruffled her hair and the solitude of the night as it seeped into her soul. There wasn’t anyone else out here, since below deck, they were serving a celebratory cake baked by the winner of the Great British Baking Show. All that sugar and excess. Definitely not her style.
Reaching the stern, she pictured the scene from Titanic, when Kate Winslet stood, a handsome Leonardo DiCaprio behind, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She and Drew would look great together, envisioning a possible future. Well, she didn’t need him for this Instagram moment. Her future would be forged on her own. A good statement to make for the end the year. Kicking off her heels, she climbed closer to get a selfie. She held up her phone and tried to get a good shot of the shimmering stars behind her, the bay at her back. The wind kicked up, tousling her hair. Good thing these extensions were weaved in by the best celebrity hairdresser in Dallas. She tried again, climbing up higher to get the perfect shot. A wave rocked the boat, and Lauren lost her balance. She tried to recover, employing her valuable core strength, but she still fell
overboard, losing her phone in the process.
She floated to the surface, her wet hair and extensions covering her face, one of her eyelashes coming off when she rubbed her eyes. Unbelievable! What a way to end this fantastic year. Literally tossed into the drink. She was so annoyed she almost laughed. Almost. But she’d have time to tell the ridiculous story later. Now she had to get back on the yacht before it sailed any farther away. She swam for it, heart racing, shouting for help. The party boat kept sailing as the music of Taylor Swift pulsed through the speakers, loud and inspiring on a normal night. Tonight, it simply made Lauren feisty and angry.
“Hey! Help! Drew! Harry! Help me! I fell in the water! Hellooooo!”
Nothing. They probably couldn’t hear her at all.
Lauren got winded as she tried to keep up with the yacht while it continued to cruise away. Eventually, she realized she wasn’t going to be able to catch up to them as another waved tossed her farther away.
“If you think you can get rid of me that easy, you’re mistaken! I’m stronger than you know!”
Well, they’d figure out she was missing soon and turn back for her. All she had to do was tread water long enough to outlast the cake feasting. She could do that. Her legs were strong. It would take more than this mishap to keep Lauren Montez down! She pictured Drew right now, telling that lovely young woman who obviously cared about him that he had a business meeting, or whatever lie he’d decided to give her. Deep regret pulsed through her. If Drew were here right now to pull her out of the water, she’d tell him to forget about tonight. That young woman would love him in a way Lauren never could. She just didn’t have it in her anymore.
But Drew wasn’t here. No one was with her now except perhaps a seagull or two, and whatever type of sea life filled Galveston Bay. Preferably, no sharks nearby, looking for fresh meat. No one to save her, as usual, so she’d save herself. Giving up on the yacht she could no longer see in the distance, Lauren turned to the lights in the other direction, hoping to get to shore. Once she got there, she’d borrow a phone. She’d call Drew, or his father, and read them both the riot act for leaving her behind. Hell, maybe she’d even threaten resigning and really give them a scare.
They certainly deserved it after the way they’d sailed off without even noticing she was gone.
Lauren turned in a circle wondering which way to turn next. Her only option left was the shore.
She spied the silhouettes of people night fishing in the near distance, so she had to be close. Just a few more strokes. She was already so tired she wanted to sleep for twenty-four hours. By her calculations, she’d been treading water for hours, though she’d lost track.
She’d spent enough time in this bay to review every mistake she’d made after her mother died when Lauren was ten. The best memories, the ones she eventually came to, were of the safety she’d felt at the only one time in her life when someone truly loved her. Held close in her mother’s arms, she had a home. Later, her maternal grandparents gave her a home in a farmhouse in San Antonio. A place in the world. She’d had a dog, on the farm too, named Nugget.
Lauren loved her mother so much that for a long time she didn’t speak after her death. Eventually, with therapy, she spoke again, and when a beloved math teacher encouraged Lauren, she’d never looked back.
Her memories hadn’t disappointed. She’d been scrappy for three decades. She’d survive this, too.
“I’m going to make it, and you’ll all be very sorry you left me behind!”
Never let it be said she couldn’t rise to a challenge. She was close to getting help, because she could see them all now. Four fishermen in their boats, lines cast in the water, their flashlights attracting the fish.
Then something hit her head. Hard. It felt like a rock, or a plank. She brushed her hand on her temple and came back with fresh blood. Great. The sharks would be circling next. She should call out for help again because these fishermen were so close that they might actually hear her. But she couldn’t seem to formulate anything over a whisper. It felt like the old days, when tragedy took her voice until someone taught her how to roar.
“Help.”
Her head ached and spun, the world coming off its axis. It was over. She was too tired for this. No more swimming. Done.
Her next word was also not above a whisper. “Mama.”
Closing her eyes, she gave in to the darkness.
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