TRAINWRECK 2: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Inspired by a True Event Read online

  “Would you like a glass of champagne?” offered Dawn, stopping me in my unsettling thoughts as we awaited the dress.

  “No, thank you,” I replied though truthfully I craved one.

  A few minutes later the exquisite gown showed up. Dawn instructed her associate to hang it up and then asked me to get undressed.

  I tensed. Suddenly, I remembered I wasn’t wearing any underwear. Gah! Should I politely ask her to leave? Or maybe I could just leave my skirt on and slip the dress over it? Biting down on my lip, I contemplated what to do.

  “Would you like me to help you?” Dawn asked as I procrastinated.

  “Um, uh, I’m fine. I’m sure I can get the dress on by myself.” The truth is I was freaking out because I’d never tried on such an extravagant dress or such an exorbitant one. I had to blink twice at the price tag. Oh. My. God. Not, three thousand dollars but thirty! Was that possible? I was almost afraid to touch it and wished Dawn were staying.

  It was too late. Obliging, Dawn gave me my privacy and left the room. Taking a deep calming breath, I took off my sweater, but kept my skirt on along with my boots. Praying that I could get into it all by myself, I carefully slipped the voluminous gown over my head, poking my arms through the spaghetti straps and then shimmying down the rest of it. The layers of rich fabric felt so incredible. So beyond anything I’d ever known.

  “How are you doing, dear?” asked Dawn, who was stationed outside the room.

  “Um, uh, pretty good. I just need some help with the zipper.”

  The door swung open and my personal shopper stepped back inside, zipping me up in no time. She made a couple of adjustments and then with a smile, she said, “Take a look-see.”

  My heart beating with anticipation, I turned to face the mirror. Blinking my eyes several times, I gasped. The gorgeous dress fit me to a tee. Oh my goodness! I looked like a real princess in the making.

  “I love it!” I exclaimed.

  “Wonderful,” beamed Dawn. “It’s positively stunning on you. While it’s quite a departure from Mr. Golden’s taste, I believe he enjoys being challenged.”

  That was a fact.

  She cast her eyes down at my scruffy combat boots, which stuck out from under the dress, and then at my shoddy messenger bag that I’d set down on an ottoman. As much as I loved my two staples, embarrassment crept through me as she said, “Now, dear, let’s get you shoes and accessories.”

  With Dawn’s help, I took off my princess gown though the truth is I didn’t want to. She promptly escorted me to the second floor designer shoe department where I chose a pair of Manolo Blahnik stilettos that looked like they could be Cinderella’s glass slippers and then to the first floor, which housed accessories and jewelry. She showed me a pair of pink satin opera gloves that went up to my elbows. I agreed to them thinking they would, at least, mask my bandaged hand. I also picked out a lovely pink beaded clutch bag to carry my bare necessities—some form of ID, lip gloss, and my house keys. Sadly, I no longer had Ari’s special “emergency” one hundred-dollar bill. It was now in the hands of that mugger who had probably already spent it.

  While I shoved the creep to the back of my mind, Dawn led me over to the jewelry department. I was practically blinded by the bling, all of it breathtaking. Her words rolled through my ears.

  “Mr. Golden would like you to pick out anything you want.”

  Anything? The word sent shockwaves through me. I mean, these pieces must cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, and that was just for starters.

  My fluttering eyes searched the lit up display cases. What wasn’t there to love? But there was one piece that stood out. A magnificent diamond tiara. It looked like an antique.

  “Can I please see the tiara?” I said meekly as I hovered over it.

  “Of course,” replied Dawn. “It’s a vintage piece that dates back to the nineteenth century. We believe it belonged to Princess Sophia of Bavaria.”

  Wow! A real princess once wore this, I thought as the sales associate retrieved it and handed it to Dawn. While I stood as still as a statue, my fairy godmother gently placed it on top of my head.

  “Take a look.” Smiling, she gestured to the mirror on the counter.

  Hesitantly, I did as she asked and gawked at my reflection. “Oh my God,” I cried out. I was no longer Sarah, plain and tall. I was officially Princess Sarah!

  “Perfection!” exclaimed Dawn.

  “I’ll bring it back tomorrow.” I spat out the words, knowing there was no way I could keep such an extravagant gift.

  “Please don’t.” Still smiling, Dawn shook her head. “Mr. Golden will not allow it.”

  My breath hitched. This man was divinely out of his mind. I was still going to bring it back. And the dress, too, if possible. A sudden pang of guilt ripped through me. How could I accept such extravagant things when I couldn’t afford to pay for my mother’s care? If the store wouldn’t take them back, perhaps I could sell them and put the money toward her treatments. So much of me wished that Ari would help me out with them, but I couldn’t tell him how to spend his money. And it wasn’t his responsibility. However, he couldn’t stop me from selling his gifts. Besides, I had no further use for them after tonight. My mother came first. While she would be devastated by my actions if she found out, I had no choice. With resolve and some peace of mind, I followed Dawn back to the elevator.

  The next stop was the hair salon on the ninth floor. Dawn had brought along the tiara. My flamboyant hairdresser, Miguel, immediately knew how he wanted to style my long hair. With his magic hands, he whipped it into a regal, simple chignon before placing the tiara on my head. I gazed at myself in the mirror and gaped yet again. With my big, wide-set brown eyes, I was channeling Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday. I truly looked like a princess.

  Finally, makeup. Dawn brought me, ironically, to the Chanel counter, where a makeup artist, an attractive young woman named June and about my age, did my face while I sat on a high stool.

  “You have fabulous skin and don’t even need foundation” she remarked as she applied mascara to my eyelashes. Closing my eyes, I once again thought about my mother whose fabulous skin I had inherited. Another round of guilt and sadness coursed through me as her dubious future consumed me.

  “Sarah, I thought you were visiting your ill mother. But obviously, beauty comes first.”

  The voice startled me. In fact, it sickened me. I snapped my eyes open and every muscle in my body clenched. Catherine!

  A long Bergdorf’s garment bag folded over her arm, she was looming above me, dressed in head to toe Chanel. She narrowed her jade-green eyes at me. They were shooting daggers, but the warrior in me deflected each one.

  “So, Sarah, why exactly are you here at Bergdorf’s on a Friday afternoon having your makeup done?” Her tone was menacing. “And what may I ask happened to your hand?” She cast her eyes down at the bandage.

  “I fell. It’s really nothing. Just a scrape.”

  She scoffed at me. “Well, I hope it won’t prevent you from typing. I have a whole report I need you to get done over the weekend in time for my early morning meeting with Ike on Monday. It should have gotten done today, but obviously you had far more important things to do like getting your makeup done at Bergdorf’s. Such an inexcusable indulgence. And I don’t understand how someone with your meager wages can afford such an expense.”

  I faltered for an excuse. “Well, when I came here to pick up your lipstick, I won a bonus—a free makeover. I really needed it today after visiting my mother.” That sounded believable and was actually close to the truth.

  Catherine’s face darkened. Fire lit her eyes as rage fueled her voice. “If you continue to steal anything that belongs to me, you will be sorry. Very sorry.”

  Was the psycho bitch threatening me? Was she also referring to Ari? I quivered as she sat down on a stool to my right and asked for “her regular,” her voice curt. Though her cloying floral scent made it hard, I pretended she wasn’t there. Remember, Sarah.
Warrior Princess.

  Silence between us prevailed for the remainder of our makeup sessions. My makeover, which was beautifully subtle, ended before hers. I needed to get away from her quickly before I suffocated in the air we shared.

  “Be sure to have a flushed out description of those Wombat Combats—or whatever those despicable creatures are called—on my desk first thing Monday morning,” Catherine hissed as I rose to my feet.

  My blood bubbled. I felt like firing back her words…if you continue to steal anything that belongs to me…” I bit my tongue and instead walked as fast as I could toward the entrance of the store.

  Andre, as promised, was waiting for me as I exited Bergdorf’s. A store employee followed me out, carrying my gown, now in a garment bag, over one arm, and a Bergdorf’s shopping bag with my shoes, gloves, purse, and tiara in the hand of the other. Andre instantly jumped out of the limo to help me inside and load my booty. There was plenty of room to lay my gown across the back seat.

  The ride to my nearby apartment took no time. Andre double parked the limo in front of my brownstone.

  “Andre, you’re going to get a ticket!” I protested, knowing they handed them out like they were flyers. And the parking violation amounted to a whopping one hundred fifteen dollars. I knew this because Fernando’s partner, Diego, had once gotten this ticket when the three of us had gone out together.

  “Miss Greene, please don’t worry,” he replied in that rich, deep melodic voice, already getting out of the vehicle.

  Well, either he didn’t give a damn about money because of his billionaire employer or he had special parking privileges. Or both. My eyes stayed on him as he rounded the car and opened the passenger door while I gathered my Bergdorf items. As I scooted out, he scooped me up into his powerful arms, bags and all.

  “Andre, what are doing?”

  “Mr. Golden is insistent that I carry you up to your apartment and see you safely to your door.”

  I sighed. My over-protective Trainman! Actually, I was relieved not to have to climb up three flights of stairs with my throbbing, torn-up knee. I held the dress up so it wouldn’t drag along the steps, and somehow Andre managed to hold the bag with all the accessories over his wrist as he carried me. Leaning against his broad chest, I felt something hard press into my side. A concealed weapon? I bet he was ex-CIA or a Navy SEAL. I was dying to ask him but held my tongue. Along the way, we passed Mrs. Blumberg on her way to Friday night services. Her eyes almost popped out of their sockets. I could only begin to imagine what she was thinking when she saw me in the arms of this handsome, black hunk—the third man she had seen me with this week. I had to bite down on my lip to stifle my laughter.

  Once inside my apartment, Andre put me down and did some reconnaissance, which further corroborated by ex-CIA theory. It didn’t take him long to thoroughly go through my small railroad flat. Assured that I wasn’t in harm’s way, the big man gave me the okay to hang up my gown in the bedroom and then feed a meowing Jo-Jo. I accompanied him back to the door where he paused and held me in his unreadable dark eyes.

  “Miss Greene, you mean a lot to Mr. Golden. He is a very good man, and you are very good for him.”

  My skin prickled, and I broke into a smile. “Thanks, Andre. He means a lot to me.”

  His normally stoic face cracked a smile back at me. “I will be back here at six. Please meet me outside.”

  He exited my apartment, closing the door behind him, and my heart fluttered at the thought of my evening ahead.

  Tonight, tonight. Won’t be just any night… The words and melody floated through my head as every sexually charged cell in my body attempted to jump out of my skin. I could hardly wait.

  Oh, tonight!

  Ari

  The board meeting went on forever. Why the hell did it have to be scheduled the same day as the gala? This day of all days. While I acted cool, calm, and collected, dazzling the board members with our record sales, product breakthroughs, and the forecast of an even brighter year ahead, inside I was frazzled. Sarah’s safety was forefront on my mind. Just before the meeting, I had made contact with Dawn, who told me that everything was going wonderfully and that I would love Sarah’s selections. Despite this reassuring call, worry mounted as the meeting lingered on. I desperately needed to know that my princess was still okay. That my psycho ex-wife hadn’t harmed her in any way.

  The meeting finally broke a little after five. I had no time to schmooze with the board members. The Meds Without Borders fundraiser started at six thirty. Thank God, Miss Thatcher had the prescience to arrange for a helicopter to take me into Manhattan; it made up for her earlier screw-ups, including not canceling the damn board meeting. It would take me only a half hour to get there compared with the ninety minutes it usually took by the train.

  Dashing out of the boardroom, I literally sprinted down the hall to my office. Miss Thatcher was at her desk.

  “Mr. Golden, the helicopter is on its way. It’ll be landing on the rooftop in fifteen minutes.”

  “Get me Andre!” I panted, praying his cell phone service was restored. More than arranging for him to pick me up in the city, I needed to know that Sarah was safe. She should be on her way home by now.

  My eyes stayed on my secretary as she dialed his number. Success! I huffed out a breath of relief. “Put him through to my phone.”

  Not wasting a second, I hurried into my office and picked up my phone.

  “Andre, is Sarah all right?” The words rushed out of my mouth.

  “Sir, she’s fine. I just dropped her off at her apartment.”

  I sighed again with relief. Andre continued.

  “I checked her apartment. No sign of any tampering.”

  “Great.” But as relieved as I was, a sense of unease fell over me. I wished Andre had stayed with her or waited outside her building. Too fucking bad my pied à terre was occupied by one of my out-of-town board members because she would have been much safer there. Or at a hotel, something I should have thought of earlier. Convincing myself that Sarah was not in danger, I finished up the phone call, arranging for Andre to pick me when I landed in Manhattan. Fortunately, the landing pad was in the Times Square area, very close to Sarah’s apartment. I’d be there in no time.

  Ending the call with my trusted driver, I quickly got dressed for the black tie event. I always kept some extra suits and an emergency tux in my office. Given that the chopper would be here in a few minutes, I had no time to shower and shave. I quickly donned my tux and dress shoes, and gave myself a quick look in my full-length bathroom mirror. I studied my reflection.

  I had to say I looked like a million bucks in my custom-tailored tux. Adjusting my baby blue bow tie, I observed the layer of golden stubble lining my face; it was thicker than usual. I rubbed a palm along my jaw. I liked it. It made me look more rugged. More powerful. I hoped Sarah would like it too.

  My hair slicked back with the help of a little gel, I, for the first time in hours, felt calm and was finally looking forward to tonight’s sold-out gala. Over a thousand supporters would be there, including friends and family, doctors from around the world as well as top politicians and business leaders. I had my speech memorized. And I would have the woman I loved there by my side.

  Heading out of the office, I reached for my phone in my breast pocket and called her home line. To my relief, she picked up quickly.

  “Saarah…”

  “Yes…”

  Just the sound of her voice made my cock flex beneath my trousers. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is your door locked?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you getting dressed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. No panties.”

  Smiling, I ended the call. The vision of my beautiful princess all dressed up in her gown—and pantyless—sent my cock into an uproar.

  With long strides and my heart pounding, I marched to the stairs that led to the rooftop. Taking two steps at time, my excite
ment mounted as I swung open the heavy door at the top and watched the helicopter land on the roof. With the wind blowing in my face and the sound of the spinning blades roaring in my ears, I headed toward the chopper and then boarded it. As it lifted off, the upheaval of the day’s events dissipated into thin air. It was going to be a good, good night.

  Sarah

  At a little before six o’clock, I was downstairs on the landing, eagerly waiting for Andre to return. Passersby gawked at me in my gorgeous pink ball gown, long gloves, and tiara. I even overheard a little girl tell her mother, “Look, Mommy, a real-life princess!” I couldn’t help smiling.

  The warm air was humid, and storm clouds threatened, but I wasn’t going to let anything rain on my parade or dampen my spirits.

  At precisely six, Ari’s limo rolled up. Andre got out of the car and held open the passenger door for me. He gave me an uncharacteristic thumbs-up. I returned the sweet gesture with an equally uncharacteristic wink.

  As carefully and gracefully as I could, I slid into the car, holding up my voluminous gown. To my shock, Ari was inside. To be honest, I’d not given much thought to how he was getting to the gala and just assumed he would take the train and I’d meet him there later. But when I did the math calculations in my head, I knew that wasn’t possible. Somehow, my superhero—my Trainman—had flown here.

  My heart thudded at the sight of him. He looked more sinfully sexy than ever in a black tux with a blue bow tie that matched the color of his eyes. I was tingling all over from his gorgeousness and was seriously glad I wasn’t wearing panties because they would have melted.

  “Hi,” I squeaked. Just one tiny word.