Bought And Paid For: The Sheikh's Kidnapped Lover Page 12

  Pull yourself together.

  “Calvin sent me,” she continued. “My name is Eva Nightingale.”

  “Calvin?”

  Eva’s eyes widened. For a moment, she was certain that Calvin had made the whole thing up. He probably didn’t even work at Oasis. For all she knew, he could have been on his way to the subway station himself, fresh out of a shift at some fast food restaurant. What had she been thinking?

  Then she realized the bouncer was grinning. Her fears melted away.

  “He’s one of our favorite guys around here,” he said. “A friend of Calvin’s is allowed up here any time. Go on in. Pick whatever table you’d like. We have plenty of room tonight.”

  “Thank you,” Eva stuttered as the bouncer gestured her in.

  “Enjoy your evening.”

  Eva walked through an open door and onto the terrace.

  Calvin was right. It was a thousand times better than the bar below. The terrace offered a gorgeous view of Manhattan Island. There were tables lining the sides with a counter in the center for drinks. Two bartenders were taking orders from three men in black tuxedos. Their hands seemed to dance as they grabbed, set, shook, and poured. It was far more intricate than making coffee, not that she’d been allowed to do anything but run the register yet.

  The tables were high top and set for two, each decorated with the same beautiful flowers as those downstairs. Most of the tables were taken, but the bouncer had been right. It wasn’t crowded up here. She spotted an empty table in the corner of the terrace. It had a perfect view of the sunset. She crossed the rooftop and sat down, her large bag taking up the extra seat.

  She spent thirty or forty seconds watching the sun slip lower on the skyline before a man showed up. He was carrying a pad of paper and a pen. It took her a moment to understand that he was a waiter.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Just breathe. No one knows you here.

  “Yeah, that would be great,” Eva said lightly. “Can I get a martini?”

  “Coming right up.”

  She was alone with her thoughts again. She decided that was all right. It was about time she reflected on her miserable life from somewhere other than her apartment.

  It really was a crappy apartment. When Eva’s parents had kicked her out, she was given two weeks to find a suitable place to live. They would co-sign and pay rent for the first two months. But, after that, Eva was on her own. No more help from Mommy and Daddy. And no more contact, either. She’d burned that bridge the day she’d decided to leave Columbia.

  Finding an apartment without a stable job was difficult, not because she couldn’t immediately pay rent, but because she had no idea what kind of job she’d end up with. If she got evicted from her first apartment, she couldn’t count on her parents for help. She could end up jobless and homeless—all because she’d stood up for herself for the first time in her life.

  Eva had never wanted to go to college, let alone law school, but her parents had insisted she follow in their footsteps and become a successful lawyer. Her entire high school career had been dedicated to government and law. She was on the debate team. She spent hours going over cases with her parents. She worked as an intern in their firms.

  If she’d been given time to explore other avenues of interest, Eva might have found herself a hobby, or even another possible career path. But there was never time. She had no idea what else she liked. And the time she might have had to pursue that dream was gone.

  She could have told her parents no. She could have refused to go to Columbia at all. But, if she’d made that mistake, she might have been on the streets long before she was prepared. At that age, she was still optimistic. It had never occurred to her that her parents might kick her out if she didn’t follow their lead.

  She hadn’t gone to Columbia because she was afraid of being destitute. She’d gone because she’d wanted to make her parents proud. She’d wanted them to say, just once, that she was good enough.

  But, after three years at Columbia, it had become increasingly clear that proud was not a word in her parents’ vocabulary. College had been far more difficult than high school, especially in a legal major. She’d spent hours studying in her room at her parents’ home in Queens, since they didn’t believe in dorms—they said being surrounded by partying teenagers would stunt her education. She’d made three or four friends in those six semesters, none of whom had stuck around after she left.

  Eva hardly ever drank. She didn’t smoke. She didn’t go to parties or bars. She followed her parents’ requests without fault. She’d even taken a year off between high school and college to intern under one of the most successful lawyers in the country. No matter how hard she tried, though, it hadn’t been enough. And, more and more, Eva had come to realize that she wasn’t happy. Her thoughts had turned dark. When she’d tried to picture her future as a lawyer, something more sinister came forward. If she had to live the life her parents had imagined for her, she didn’t want to live at all.

  After speaking to several school counselors, Eva had made her decision—she was going to drop out of Columbia. She was two years away from her degree, even with a full course load. It was too late in her college career to start exploring a new major. Besides, she knew her parents would never be willing to pay for it. And she certainly wasn’t going to go into debt for an experience she never wanted.

  She’d come home from her last evening class of the week, books in hand. Her parents had been sitting in the dining room, talking about a particularly difficult case. Eva had dropped her books on the table with a loud crash. Her parents had jumped in their seats, then stared.

  “I’m not going back,” Eva had said simply. “I don’t want to be a lawyer. I don’t want to get my degree. I’m not going back. And you can’t make me.”

  Her parents had gaped. Eva hadn’t been sure where their surprise was coming from. Hadn’t they, on some level, known she wasn’t happy?

  She’d been a quiet, mousy, and respectful kid. She’d grown into an intelligent and well-spoken young adult. She could formulate an argument. She could debate. She could fight in a courtroom.

  But never with her parents. It was too hard. It made everything unstable. Eva hated instability.

  So, yeah, she’d never said any of these things before. But they were still her parents. Shouldn’t they have noticed the number of nights she’d spent crying herself to sleep? Shouldn’t they have seen how tired and frustrated and dejected she’d been for the past three years? How had this revelation been a surprise to them?

  The thought had pushed her demeanor from firm to angry.

  “Seriously, didn’t either of you ever notice that I hate law?” Eva had asked. “Did I really need to say it?”

  Something had snapped. She was usually calm and collected around her parents. They had a mutual understanding: she was the subordinate, and they were in charge. You don’t yell at your manager if you want to keep your job. But her counselors had finally helped her see the light—the years of emotional and mental abuse that had never been acknowledged.

  She wasn’t going to let them get away with it. If they saw her as a different person, so be it. This was who she was to everyone else in the world. She was tired of putting on a face.

  “I’m dropping out of school,” she had said. “I’m going to spend the next few years of my life trying to figure out who I want to be without the two of you breathing down my neck. And I hope you can support me through that. I hope you’ll accept me for who I choose to be.”

  Her mother finally found her voice.

  “We’ve invested twenty-four years in your education,” Heather Nightingale had said. “Twenty-four years. And you’ve come home, halfway through your college education, to tell us that you don’t want it anymore?”

  “You’ve never given me a choice,” Eva had replied bitterly.

  “You have a choice now,” her father had said, his face turning a peculiar shade of purple. “You can go to y
our room, continue your studies, and go back to school on Monday like the woman we raised you to be. Or, you can start looking for your own place, because you won’t be living here.”

  “That’s it?” Eva had asked, her nostrils flaring like they always did when she lost her temper. “Live my life your way or leave? What kind of parents are you?”

  “We’ve given you everything,” her mother had said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Where did we go wrong, Henry?”

  Her father had shaken his head.

  “I wish I knew,” he’d said, glaring at his daughter.

  “You two are pathetic,” Eva had spat back. “You wanted a lawyer, not a daughter. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

  Eva had turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving her textbooks on the dining room table. She’d never picked them up again. Two weeks later, she’d moved into her studio apartment in Brooklyn. It wasn’t an accident that her new residency was in a borough separate from her parents. She’d never wanted to see them again.

  Even now, sitting on the rooftop terrace at Oasis six months later, she didn’t want to see them. They were lousy, workaholic lawyers, and even lousier parents.

  Of course, that wasn’t all true. She missed her parents from time to time. She missed the way her mother would curl her hair before a big event. They would talk and giggle and listen to pop music. She missed the way her father would take her camping every summer vacation. It was the only time she saw him in something other than a suit. On their sixth camping trip, Eva realized she still loved him, even though he often made her feel worthless.

  She’d been dealt an awful hand. And now she was paying for her choices. Despite six months of separation from her parents, she still had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. It didn’t help that rent for a studio apartment in Brooklyn used up over three-quarters of her monthly income. She’d barely made it through the last four months without her parents’ aid, and her savings were running thin.

  Pretty soon, she wouldn’t be able to afford groceries or her cell phone bill. When that happened, it would be game over. Eva would go back to her parents, duffle bag in hand, and beg for forgiveness. She would go back to college, finish her degree, and enroll in law school. They would welcome her back with open arms, forgiving her momentary lapse in judgment. And, for the rest of her life, they would control her.

  She’d considered getting a second job, but Gustavo’s forbade employees from working anywhere else so that they were always available to pick up shifts. She could do it anyway, but Chris would have no choice but to fire her if he found out. And he would, too, now that he knew her schedule was wide open.

  Turning over the possibilities in her mind, Eva didn’t notice the sun had already gone down. It was nighttime in Brooklyn, and she was alone.

  Somehow, that was okay.

  Chapter Three

  It had been twenty minutes since her initial order. Her martini had been delivered without her knowledge, probably set on the table by a thoughtful waiter who didn’t want to interrupt her memories.

  The glass was already collecting condensation, forming a light ring on the table. She took a sip and immediately wished she’d asked for a rum and Coke. Six months wasn’t enough to get used to drinking alcohol, no matter how fancy she wanted to be.

  Her reverie was interrupted by the shadow of a tall, muscular man standing next to her table. Figuring it was another waiter and deciding she’d ask for that drink after all, she looked up and opened her mouth to share her request.

  She snapped it shut. The man held no paper or pen. He wore a deep blue suit. And he was holding a glass in his hand.

  “You look like you could use this,” he said in a thick Italian accent.

  Eva stared, unable to do much else.

  “What is that?”

  “Rum and Coke,” the man said. “I can take it back if you don’t want it.”

  Eva struggled to find the words to respond. Finally, they came.

  “How did you know?”

  The man smiled and set the drink down on the table. He picked up the barely-touched martini and took it back to the bar. Eva was so stunned, she didn’t bother drinking. She just continued to stare.

  If you don’t get it together, he’s going to think you’re crazy.

  When the man returned, Eva managed to speak.

  “Seriously, how did you know I wanted one of these? I wasn’t talking out loud, was I?”

  The man grinned, clearly amused.

  “Would you mind if I sat down?”

  Eva stared for four or five seconds before realizing he wanted an answer.

  “Oh, right,” she stuttered. “Sure. Go for it.”

  The man swiftly moved her bag from the chair to the ground and took a seat.

  “My name is Filipe,” he said. “What’s your name?”

  “Eva,” she mumbled. She couldn’t seem to come up with anything else. She was too surprised by the man’s sudden intrusion. She had been sitting alone, contemplating her failures, and then she’d been joined by a strange, handsome man. A man named Filipe, apparently.

  “All right, Eva,” Filipe said smoothly. “I’ll share my secret.”

  She nodded for him to continue.

  “I happen to like the same drink, myself. So, I bought you one.”

  Eva, who had been waiting for more, was surprised.

  “That’s all?”

  “That’s all,” Filipe said, smiling again. “I’m not reading your mind and you weren’t talking out loud. Although, I have to say, I’m very curious. What were you thinking about?”

  Eva found herself taken aback, yet again. It had been months since she’d flirted with anyone, and years since she’d had a boyfriend. This man was attractive and seductive. He was devilishly handsome, tall, and tanned—with the most alluring green eyes.

  Men like Filipe didn’t flirt with women like Eva. He was clearly older than her. Maybe thirty? She didn’t understand. Why did he care what she was thinking about? There were plenty of beautiful women on the rooftop.

  Yeah, but they aren’t alone.

  She couldn’t tell him the truth. What would she tell him about first: her job as a coffee barista or her decision to drop out of school? She could tell him about her awful apartment or her inability to scrape together her rent.

  No. Knowing she’d never see Filipe again in her life, Eva decided to lie.

  “Work,” she said, taking a sip of her drink, which was sweet and calming. She felt her body loosen. “My clients are driving me up the wall.”

  “Oh really?” Filipe asked, looking straight into her eyes as he spoke. “What do you do?”

  “I work on Wall Street,” she said, unable to come up with a single legitimate job title. “It’s draining, but worth it. What do you do?”

  “I’m an investment banker,” Filipe said. “I’m in New York for a few days on business. Do you live here?”

  Eva nodded.

  “I do,” she said, taking another long drink.

  She was starting to feel a buzz. Everything seemed better now.

  He’s just a man. You can handle this. It’s not like you have to go home with him.

  “Whereabouts?” Filipe asked. “I’m staying in Manhattan.”

  “I live near the financial district,” she lied. “My roommate and I split the lease.”

  “Boyfriend?” Filipe asked, looking for a ring on her finger.

  “Oh, no,” Eva said, shaking her head. “Just a friend from college. I went to Columbia.”

  “Oh,” he said. “That’s a great school. I have a few contacts there. Did you have Professor Klineman?”

  “I must have missed him,” Eva said. She knew she should be more cautious, but her fears were slipping away. “I graduated early. College wasn’t really my scene. I was ready to start a career. I’d be lucky if I could name the professors I did have.”

  “Let me get you another drink,” Filipe said, standing up from the table. “I think
I’ll get one for myself, too.”

  As she watched him walk away, Eva couldn’t believe her luck. An hour ago, she’d been serving coffee to rude and pretentious customers. Now, she was sitting on the Oasis rooftop, chatting it up with a big-shot international businessman. She desperately wished she had some friends to tell.

  He guessed my drink. Does that even happen in real life?

  She felt like she could have been a movie star. Filipe was certainly attractive enough to be the leading man.

  Eva decided she’d continue through the night as though she were in a movie. She filed away her laundry in the back of her mind. She threw away dark thoughts about her family and her past. Tonight, she was a Wall Street executive with a fancy apartment and plenty of friends.

  Tonight, she was going to enjoy herself. No one knew who she was, and she’d never been happier about it.

  The mysterious man returned. Eva flashed him a bright smile.

  “So,” she said. “You’re in town on business. You’re staying in Manhattan. What are you doing in Brooklyn?”

  “I’m not a fan of Manhattan nightlife,” Filipe said. “Too many college girls with fake IDs looking for an escort.”

  Eva raised an eyebrow.

  “I think you may actually be more cynical than me,” she said.

  “Are you a cynical person?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

  He smiled. This time, the smile broke through his entire face, bringing light to every single feature. Eva thought she’d never seen a more attractive man, and she doubted that she ever would.

  If he knew who you were...

  No. Those thoughts were gone now.

  “Would your roommate mind having company?” Filipe asked.

  Eva’s heart nearly stopped. The thought of bringing him home was ludicrous. Wouldn’t he be surprised, when she brought him to a run-down studio apartment on the other side of Brooklyn!

  If she wanted a chance with him, she’d have to come up with an excuse—and fast.

  “She’s actually studying tonight,” Eva said as smoothly as possible. “She enrolled in grad school last year. She usually doesn’t mind visitors, but I don’t think she’d thank me for bringing home a handsome man tonight.”