Angels In Red

  Angels In Red

  By Adelle Laudan

  Two very different worlds collide the day Jack saves Jenna from a near death experience. The fact Jack has isolated himself in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, or that Jenna is the daughter of one of the country’s wealthiest men, never comes into play as they fall deeply, and passionately in love.

  Their happy-ever-after is interrupted when Jenna is called home to say her final good-bye to her father on his death bed. Will Jack lose her to the allure of high society she’s accustomed to? Does the discovery of her deceased mother’s well-kept secret keep her in a world where money and money and status can and does buy anything?

  Or does she learn the one thing she wants most in life money can’t buy.

  Angels

  In

  Red

  Adelle Laudan

  Angels In Red

  Adelle Laudan

  Cover Art : Adelle Laudan

  Copyright © 2014 Adelle Laudan

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-1-927700-04-4

  *Revised and expanded version of Dear Angel*

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Due to copyright laws you cannot trade, sell or give any ebooks away.

  This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

  Adelle Laudan

  http://adellelaudan.com

  Dedicated to a Special

  Angel watching over me.

  My Mother

  1930-2008

  Thank you

  Kim McGilvery

  For being my 2nd

  Set of Eyes

  Chapter One

  Everyone who was anyone filled the spectacular estate ballroom. If the air of self-importance got any thicker, Jenna imagined oxygen masks dropping from the ceiling like on airplanes. Women wore gowns by top designers, ranging from silky chiffon with plunging necklines by Gucci, to Anthony Vaccarello cut out gowns that had far more cut out than gown. Thousands of dollars worth of diamonds sparkled on slender fingers pinching the stems of crystal champagne flutes.

  She’d bet money most of the ladies thought the birthday boy to be a ridiculously wealthy, egocentric ass. Yet, to not come risked the chance of missing out on all the juicy gossip amongst the wives and girlfriends of some of the richest men around.

  The man of the hour, Kenneth Blackburn the Third, spared no expense to throw his yearly, over-the-top party. With it being so close to Christmas, he insisted there would be no festive decorations, cards, or shortbread baking until the day after his celebration. He wanted nothing to detract from him being the center of attention, and everyone knew what her father wanted, he got.

  Host extraordinaire stood talking to one of her least favorite people. The two men couldn’t be more different. Her father was impeccably dressed in a black tux, sporting his signature silk cravat of hand-spun gold. He wore his lush, dark hair combed back with a liberal application of pomade to keep things perfectly coiffed. Harold Meed, on the other hand, wore an ill-fitting, off the rack suit, even though he could easily afford custom made to fit his rotund shape. His shirt strained across a belly more than likely accrued from far too much drink. He wore his hair military short, making his already round face appear that much more voluminous.

  “Jenna!”

  She shrieked as her best friend, Buffy, grabbed her by the waist and spun her around. “Earth to Jenna. Where were you just now?”

  Jenna tried to slow her racing pulse. “What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?”

  Buffy cast a curious glance in the direction she’d been entranced by. “I never knew those two were that close?” Swarovski crystals embellished her friend’s designer ball gown, casting shimmering bursts of light whenever she moved. “What are the two of them talking about?” She smoothed down the wave of her Marilyn Monroe inspired hairdo.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’d bet anything dear old Dad is up to no good.”

  What does he possibly have to talk about with that asshole?

  Yes, Howard was invited to all social functions, but her father never paid the man much attention aside from a firm handshake and a practiced smile at the door. His stone-face made it impossible to read if his laughter was genuine, unlike Howard’s beady eyes that darkened with foreboding, belying the phony grin pasted on his plump face.

  Just then, the two men raised hands in a toast and tossed back the contents of their glasses. As expected, a server appeared out of nowhere to replenish.

  With new drink in hand, her father sauntered to the middle of the vacant dance floor. “If I could have your attention, I have some wonderful news to share.”

  The room fell silent. As the guests moved closer to the host, she took a few steps back.

  “Jenna, could you come here please?”

  Damn! Tendrils of dread slithered up her spine as the crowd parted, and she reluctantly closed the distance between them. “What’s going on?” she asked out the side of her mouth.

  Harold Meed appeared at the other side of her father, flashing a devilish grin as he brazenly undressed her with his eyes. She’d never wanted to physically hurt someone as badly. He’d have a hard time ogling anyone with his eyes swollen shut.

  The ignoramus had never kept his overly-zealous obsession with her a secret. On a couple of occasions, he even went as far as to accidentally grab her ass in passing. Only after she threatened to call the police did he finally stop sending her gifts, asking her out to dinner or suggesting overnight jaunts to Paris.

  “I’m sure my good friend, Harold Meed, needs no introduction,” her father began. “Today, he has given me the best birthday gift. Today, he has asked for my daughter’s hand in marriage.” He glared into her eyes. “And I have given my blessing.”

  “You what?” Anger set her pulse racing, and heat rushed to her face. Her quick temper, often attributed by her flaming red hair. “This is a joke, right?” Jenna gawked at her father and then at Harold Meed. They’re actually serious.

  “Jenna, you’re making a scene. We’ll discuss this after the party. Got it?” He grabbed hold of her hand and held it out to Howard.

  The harder she tried to pull her hand back, his grip tightened. This can’t be really happening. The cold slide of a gaudy diamond engagement ring on her finger made it crystal clear it wasn’t just a bad dream.

  The element of surprise enabled her to break free from her father’s iron grip. She couldn’t take the ring off fast enough, all the while glaring directly into Howard’s brooding eyes. You know where you can shove this, don’t you? Jenna arched a brow and dropped the solitaire into his drink. The amber liquid splashed up in the very red-face of the jilted, wannabe groom.

  “You will be mine. Your father made a deal. There is no turning back.” He spoke as loud as he dared. “I promise, if you don’t smile and put this ring back on, you will live to regret it.”

  She tilted back her head and laughed. “It isn’t gonna happen, no way...no how, asshole.”

  “Jenna!” Her father swiftly slapped her across the face. “You will not talk to our guest that way. Apologize this instant!”

  Her initial shock and anger quickly turned to rage. She wanted to scream obscenities at the top of her lungs, but the unexpected slap rendered her speechless. Her burning cheek warmed beneath her fingers as she turned and raced toward the door.

  You can both go to Hell.

/>   “Whoa there, kiddo.” Charles, her father’s personal assistant and her most trusted confidant, blocked her path. “You need to calm down and quit making a scene.”

  Jenna’s eyes filled with angry tears. First my father side-lines me, and now Charles? Am I getting punked? “Let me pass or I’ll throw a hissy fit right here and now.” She shook her head. “Like I give a shit what any of these people think of me.”

  Buffy scurried to her side. “Please, Charles. Let me take her upstairs.”

  He heaved a sigh and stepped to the side. “Don’t say I didn’t try when your father deals with you later.”

  Jenna raced blindly up the grand staircase toward her suite. Buffy’s footsteps followed close behind, taking two steps to her one. An overwhelming sense of betrayal had her clutching the bodice of her hand-embroidered dress.

  At the last second, she turned and made a bee-line toward her father’s wing of the house. Though she’d been forbidden in this part of the estate, which included her mother’s sitting room off the master bedroom, her father’s deception made her desperate for the closeness of her mother, even if only to sit in her chair amongst her things.

  “Jenna? What are you doing? Don’t you think your father’s angry enough?”She panted. “If he finds you here, God only knows what he’ll do.”

  “You saw what happened back there…do you really think I care how that monster feels?” The threat of tears prickled the backs of her eyelids as she reached the sitting room door. She paused when her gaze fell upon an array of pill bottles next to her father’s bed.

  “Whatever it is you’re doing, you might want to hurry it up.”

  The sense of urgency in her friend’s voice urged her forward. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

  Buffy huffed and stormed back to the master bedroom entrance. “Just hurry up.”

  A fleeting moment of hesitation stopped Jenna from placing her hand on the crystal knob. She quickly shook the unease away and opened the door, only to freeze on the spot.

  A thick layer of dust coated every surface in the room. Nothing had been touched since her mother’s death five years ago. She closed her eyes and inhaled the lingering scent of Lily-of-the-Valley perfume.

  Oh God, how I miss you…

  “Jenna! I think somebody is coming up the stairs.”

  Her friend’s warning abruptly ended the bittersweet memory. As much as she wanted to stay, she feared her father might abuse this moment, threatening to get rid of everything if she didn’t marry Howard.

  Darting her gaze around the room, she sought something, anything that might make her feel close to her mother. Of course. Jenna took two long strides to her mother’s writing table, careful not to disturb anything, and opened the center drawer. The leather bound journal she’d seen her writing in on a few occasions sat atop a number of papers and pens.

  “Jenna!”

  She grabbed the journal and pushed the drawer shut, hard enough to send a cloud of dust upwards making her sneeze. Part of her still wanted to lock the door and remain in the midst of her mother’s memory. Thoughts of her father using all of these treasures for blackmail gave cause to take one last, quick glance around before following the same footsteps she’d left imprinted in the plush carpet.

  Before closing the door, she glanced back over her shoulder.

  I’ll be back, Mother.

  “Oh! What are you doing here?” Jenna gasped, startled by Edna’s presence in front of her. “Don’t even bother to try and stop me.”

  The longtime housekeeper smiled and gently laid her hand on the diary. “I wouldn’t think of it. I heard everything, and I’m so sorry you were put in such a…uncomfortable situation.”

  “Does he really believe I’ll agree to marry that drunk?”

  “He isn’t thinking of your feelings, Jenna. Your father is only thinking of himself. I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you got away from here for a while.”

  Jenna hugged her dear friend. “I love you, Edna. Maybe I will take off for a while. I can’t even stand the thought of seeing him right now.”

  “You do whatever your heart tells you to do.” The plump woman stepped back and dabbed at her eyes with the hanky she always had tucked away in the sleeve of her uniform. “I love you. You better go. The last thing you need right now is for your father to find you here.”

  Jenna nodded and kissed the flushed cheek in passing. Buffy stood in the hallway and practically dragged her away. There was no sign of anyone, making her wonder if there really had been someone coming up the stairs. Her best friend pushed her into her bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her. A click of the lock preceded Buffy’s long-winded breaths.

  Jenna spun on her heel. “Can you believe the nerve of my father? Howard Meed?” She shuddered, utterly revolted by the mere thought of being married to the creep.

  “Hey, I’m on your side. I’m just so scared for you.” Her platinum curls bounced with each step she took to sit on the end of Jenna’s bed. “Maybe you shouldn’t have made a scene? I’ve never seen your father so angry.”

  She could hardly believe her ears. “So, you think I should’ve played nice, and smiled in all the right places?”

  “Well, yes.” Her bare shoulders rose and fell. “You could have flipped out on him in private. Don’t you think?”

  Without giving it a second thought, she grabbed Buffy’s arm and led her across the room. “Get out!” Jenna flipped the lock and yanked open the door, pushing her childhood friend out into the hallway. She paused momentarily to look into far too big blue eyes filled with confusion. “Why don’t you go downstairs and play nice with Howard Meed. Maybe he’ll marry you, ‘cause he sure as hell won’t be marrying me.”

  Buffy opened her mouth to speak, but Jenna wanted no part in hearing anything she had to say. She slammed the door in her face, flipping the lock before leaning back heavily. Her chest heaved as the tears fell.

  “Please, Jenna. Don’t be like that. Let me in so we can talk about all of this.”

  She resisted the urge to give in. I don’t want to deal with anyone right now! Maybe she was being unreasonable, but if one more person told her to placate her father she’d surely lose what little control she had left over her faculties. She set the journal on her bed and slipped out of her dress, letting it pool around her ankles.

  Her bedroom was bigger than the ground floor of most people’s homes, and she still felt like the walls were closing in on her. “I need to get away from here.”

  She rushed to her closet and dressed faster than ever, casually in jeans and a sweatshirt topped with a lightweight parka of royal blue. Jenna then grabbed her mother’s diary and tucked it safely away in an oversized pocket of her coat before pushing her feet into fur-lined boots.

  Maybe I should pack a bag… No, I can buy anything I need. Jenna checked her wallet for credit cards before throwing her purse over her shoulder. She rolled back her shoulders and left the room, running past her best friend who pleaded for her to reason. Charles stood at the bottom of the staircase with arms folded across his broad chest.

  “Just where do you think you’re going? They’re calling for a lot of snow this evening, Jenna. Quit being so childish and come with me, we can talk over a cup of coffee in the kitchen,”

  Jenna shrugged his hand from her shoulder. “Please, Charles, just let me go. You of all people should understand why I need to put some distance between me and my father.”

  His big hand pressed against the door above her head, barring her way. “I get it, Jenna. I really do. Can you at least take Buffy with you?”

  She turned, and made her features soften as she stepped toward her best friend.

  Buffy opened her arms. “Thank God. You’ll be able to think more clearly once you have a chance to calm down.”

  Jenna spun around, catching Charles off guard, she ignored their shouts from the front doorway as she trudged through the snow to the carports housing a fleet of cars. She opened the glass-encased peg board an
d snatched her keys before letting herself in the port reserved for her Jag.

  Charles still stood at the front doors when she pulled up and lowered her window. “I’ll call later.”

  He descended the stairs, but she took off down the cleared driveway from the house. He grew smaller in her rearview mirror, completely out of sight by the time she pushed a button on her key ring and drove through the parting front gates. She’d never done anything remotely this defiant in all of her twenty-two years.

  I’ll just give him a little time to come to his senses. Once he realizes how serious I am, he’ll rescind the offer of my hand in marriage…won’t he? She grimaced into the mirror. You better hope so, girl.

  Jenna stopped for coffee-to-go at the Canada/USA border—separating her from her father back in Thunder Bay, and the serenity of Eagle Ridge ski resort in Minnesota’s Lutsen Mountains. The taunting strains of ‘I’ll be Home for Christmas’ filled the car. Despite the steady snow fall and poorly lit road, it didn’t take a genius to figure out she’d taken the wrong mountain access to the resort on the summit of Moose Mountain. A light on her dash flashed red, warning her gas was running low.

  “Oh God, please don’t.” You idiot, why didn’t you fill up at the border?

  Suddenly, two green orbs of light pierced the darkness. Her heart pounded as she swerved to avoid the fear-stricken deer in her headlights. The steering wheel slipped through her fingers as the Jag slid out of control. Her body jerked forward as the crunch of her front end bursting through the guardrail ravaged her eardrums.

  Plummeting down the side of the mountain, Jenna screamed as the door flew off and sucked her out into the frigid winter’s night. Forcing her arms up to protect her face, she spiraled down into a vast expanse of nothingness.

  Silence…

  Her eyes fluttered open, momentarily blinded by a wall of white. Only the rush of blood sounded in her ears. Incredible pressure restricted her from moving. Her mind scrambled for a thread of memory.