The flight to LA was planned with very little fuss from her parents.
California and its hot sun greeted her like an old friend, as had the flight attendant her father always kept on standby. She walked down the short steps to the tarmac, breathing in the scent she always considered welcoming, but she didn’t get the same sense of homecoming that she’d once felt. If she was being honest, the only reason it had was because she’d been running from Lorenzo. With that obstacle out of the way, nowhere would ever be home unless he was there, and that place was Miami.
Her mind made up, she instructed the driver to drop her at the apartment she shared with another LA Dancer. Instead of letting her roommate know she was in town, Angel jumped in her Beemer and headed for the stadium. Andrew spent most days there overseeing practice and other things. If asked, she couldn’t say what all the man did. That should have been a clear indicator of her lack of interest, not only in what he did, but the man himself. She said another silent prayer of thanks that she’d woken up before making a huge mistake.
She pulled into the gated lot and took a deep breath, waving to the security guard as he let her in.
When she opened the door to the executive suite, Angelina met the glacier gaze of Andrew’s secretary. For some reason, the woman had never liked her. She could care less about anything to do with Andrew’s staff. Another indicator that she wasn’t completely engaged in their relationship.
Keeping her voice serene and a smile on her face, she approached the pristine desk. “Good afternoon, Charity. Is Andrew available?”
“Was Mr. Cage expecting you?” Was that a purr she heard when the other woman murmured his last name? She couldn’t be sure but swore there was an awareness to her tone.
“Actually, no he wasn’t.” Taking a deep breath, she prayed for patience.
Something indiscernible flickered in the other woman’s eyes. Before she could put a name to it, it was gone. Jealousy, maybe. Charity could have him, and they could have a good life together.
She held up a well-manicured fingernail. “I’ll just ring him and see if he has a moment.”
Andrew’s office was at the end of a very long hallway, a good twenty feet behind the barracuda he called a secretary. It wasn’t like the beotch didn’t know if he was in, or if he had someone with him, since they all had to pass her to get to the boss’s office, but, whatever, Angel rationalized. She wouldn’t be coming here again after today. She turned from her perusal of both the hallway and Charity, to stare out the windows.
A touch on her shoulder had her turning. “Angelina, I’m so happy to see you. I didn’t know you’d be returning so soon.”
She tried not to flinch when Andrew bent his tall lanky frame and kissed her. His breath smelled like whiskey, and his eyes were a little glassy. Where Lorenzo was tall and built like a God, Andrew was tall and built more like a swimmer, but each man still had over a foot on her in the height department.
“I hope you weren’t in the middle of something…” she trailed off, his hand coming up to trace her cheek.
“Nothing that can’t be put on hold for the future Mrs. Cage,” he promised, leading her by the hand past his secretary. “Charity, you may go home now.”
“Thank you, Andrew, but I still have some work to finish.” Charity stood, walking around the desk, her short dress obscenely tight.
“I said go home. Whatever it is can wait,” he argued, not once did he give his attention to the other woman.
His intensity had always attracted Angelina in the past, but something about his demeanor was off. She’d never seen him take a drink in the six months they’d been dating, not even a glass of wine at dinner. He led her into the large office and closed them inside together.
He leaned against the door. “So, have you returned early to accept my proposal?”
“Actually, that’s why I came.” She slipped the ring box out of her bag. “I’m sorry, Andrew, I can’t accept. I care about you, and I think you’re a great man. I’m just not in love with you.” She held out her palm, hoping he’d understand.
He laughed. The diabolical sound sent chills down her spine. She realized for the first time she really didn’t know him all that well.
She felt trapped. In her hand, she still held the little box with the ring he’d given her inside. When he didn’t take it, she turned to place it on his desk with a knot in her stomach.
“You’re sorry? What are you sorry for, Angel?” He sneered the name he’d never called her. “Are you sorry for betraying me? Are you sorry you let some Cuban bastard touch what’s mine? I have video of the two of you nearly fucking in the middle of a club full of spectators, and then you followed him home.” Spittle flew from his mouth. “My investigator says you stayed the night with him. I have pictures, so don’t try to deny it.” Rage shone in his eyes.