A First Sight Read online

  “Of course.” I was surprised they gave us a couple of weeks’ notice. Usually, when Mr. Leighton got it in his head that we needed to have dinner or lunch, he called a day or two in advance, and if we had any plans, they’d be canceled.

  “They wanted us to come this Saturday, but I told them we had a concert that night. With all the new shit Irene is giving us, we both need to focus.”

  I already knew my part, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

  “The second will be great,” I said. Now was a perfect time to remind Dale of my plans for the weekend. “This Sunday, I’d like to have lunch with Carson and London. If that’s okay.”

  He shrugged. “Sure. I have a big campaign with the guys planned all day.”

  And now I knew the real reason he didn’t want to go to his parents’ place on Saturday. Dale liked to be well-rested for his marathon gaming days.

  “Will you be having dessert?” the waiter asked as he stopped by the table.

  “Definitely not.” Dale gave me a meaningful look. “We don’t need it.”

  Heat flooded my cheeks, and I busied myself with my silverware. He always said he liked me the way I was and didn’t want me to change. That’s all it was. He wasn’t purposefully trying to be mean with that comment. After all, I knew all too well what he sounded like when he was trying to be mean.

  SEVEN

  DRAKE

  Uncle Ben and Stellan had told me many times my way of remembering my anniversary with Belle was...unwise. Perhaps they were right, but I liked to remember and celebrate the beginning.

  Every year––on our anniversary––I dine at the restaurant where we first met. I was visiting Uncle Ben in the US and after some sight-seeing, I felt hungry, so I went into the restaurant. She was sitting at this table, with Stellan sitting across from her.

  She was beautiful, my Belle, but that wasn’t the first thing that drew me to her. No, it was her laugh. She was a slender woman, delicate-looking, but her laugh was loud and brash, drawing the attention of everyone around her.

  I was twenty-three and confident of my appeal to the opposite sex, but my stomach was still in knots when I pondered how to approach her, especially when I wasn’t sure if the man was her boyfriend or husband. Then, I heard her tell him that being family didn’t mean he could tell her what to do. So I asked her out.

  She was hesitant to get involved with someone who didn’t live in the US, but Stellan encouraged her to give me a chance. Eighteen months later, we married and lived in Scotland. Of course, like every other couple, we had our bumps in the few years we were together, but they were good years.

  I rubbed my chest as if it would ease the ache I still carried in my heart. I had been without her so much longer than we were together, but the passage of time only reminded me of the life we would have had together. Our daughter would have been a teenager. There would have been more children. Holidays and birthdays. Trips. All the bright things our future could have held.

  Instead, I had spent the last sixteen years working in a world that offered very little in the way of that kind of brightness.

  With a sigh, I looked for my waiter. As I turned, something caught my eye. I followed it without really thinking about it and realized it was a woman standing up. My breath caught, and everything else went dim and silent.

  Belle.

  Hair the color of honey. A thin nose just shy of being too long. High cheekbones. Medium height. Slender build. And not a day older than the last time I saw her.

  I stared as she walked past me, my heart pounding in my chest so loud that I thought everyone must have heard it. I waited for her to vanish, for the spell to break, but she didn’t disappear from my sight until she turned toward the corridor with the restrooms.

  I had to be seeing things. I was thinking about Belle so much and so hard today it was no wonder I would see Belle in a random blonde. That was the only rational explanation. And I’d prove it to myself when she came back out. This time, I’d be prepared and let my mind see what was really there.

  Except, when she reappeared five minutes later, it hit me like a punch to the gut. The same lips and smile. Fair skin. Even her eyes were the same shade of turquoise.

  Our Scottish culture, like many others, was one rich with stories of magic and the supernatural, and while I respected that, I was never one to believe in it. At this moment, however, thoughts of ghosts and the wee folk came flooding into my mind, the shock taking me back to a childhood place where most anything was possible.

  I shifted in my seat as she went by, desperate to keep her in sight for just a few moments longer. By angling my chair, I could watch as she took a seat across from a man with reddish-brown hair a few shades off from my dark auburn. I couldn’t see much of his face, but I wasn’t interested in him.

  They were too far away for me to hear them, and I couldn’t see more of her unless I completely turned around, but I wasn’t so far gone as to do that. Still, as I motioned for a waiter to bring my check, I was all too aware of every movement the young woman made. There weren’t many. She was still, contained as if she didn’t want to draw too much attention to herself. I could have told her that was impossible. Mine wasn’t the only head to turn when she walked by.

  After paying my bill, I continued to nurse my coffee until the couple was getting ready to leave. When they stood, I did the same, surprising myself. I wasn’t an impulsive person, but my actions didn’t seem to be my own at the moment. I pulled on my jacket as I followed them from the restaurant. Had I gone mad? This was pointless. What did I intend to do when they got into their car or hailed a cab? Behave as if I was in some sort of action film and chase after them? To what end?

  Except they didn’t go into the parking garage nor wave for a cab. The man put his arm around the woman’s waist in the sort of possessive gesture I recognized. There was no mistaking. They were a couple. Still, I walked. We passed a few businesses, but they didn’t pause until they stood in front of a place I hadn’t noticed before.

  The Hunt said the sign above the door and a rather large man stood in front. A bar or a club. I enjoyed going to a pub with friends once in a while, but it had been a long time since I stepped foot inside an actual club.

  I handed money to the man at the door and followed the couple inside. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust before I scanned the area to find her. With it being a Tuesday night, the place wasn’t full, making it easy to spot the pair. They were at the bar. After a momentary hesitation, I started in that direction.

  I kept a few feet between us at the bar, pretending I was looking at the crowd rather than a single person. She had her back to me at the moment, but I could still see her face in my mind. Of course, I could because it was Belle’s face.

  “What can I get you?” The bartender’s question distracted me.

  “Scotch,” I said. “The best you have.”

  I handed over my credit card, and he nodded. While this place was far from a dive, I had my doubts about what their best would be, but I wasn’t here for the alcohol.

  While not overpowering, the music was loud enough that I couldn’t hear the conversation between the couple, but I could tell it was mostly one-sided from the way the man’s mouth never stopped moving. Even when he wasn’t looking at her, he was talking.

  I thanked the bartender for my drink and sipped it. Not bad, although a far cry from the batch Uncle Ben had gotten from Shannon’s.

  The man set down his empty glass and took her hand, leading her to the dance floor. This wasn’t a first date, I could tell.

  I didn’t know why that thought entered my mind. I had no intention of approaching her. How long they’d been together, and the status of their relationship, was none of my business.

  And yet, I couldn’t help but wonder about them. About her. How they met. If they were married. Engaged. Only a few months into their relationship. Had they met each other’s families? Made plans for their future? Were they discussing having a family? Did they alre
ady have one?

  The last question hit me hard.

  This woman could be a mother, happily married for years, and I could only see my Belle.

  I needed to leave. Silently wish her all the best and then forget about her.

  But I couldn’t.

  I wasn’t ogling her. Undressing her with my eyes and having thoughts I shouldn’t have about another man’s woman. She just reminded me so much of Belle.

  And I hoped she was happy.

  But what if she wasn’t?

  I frowned.

  I needed to know more before I could let the matter rest.

  As if that was linked to the future Belle never had.

  Logically, it made no sense. Perhaps logic would have won out on a normal day, but today wasn’t normal. The ghost of my lost love was too close for me to reason.

  I took out my wallet and plucked out a hundred-dollar bill. The man had paid for their drinks with a credit card. All I needed was the name listed on that card, and I could take things from there. I was pretty sure the bartender would appreciate a nice tip in exchange for a name.

  EIGHT

  MAGGIE

  It surprised me when Dale ordered a beer, but I didn't say anything. I planned on sticking with water, so if he wanted to drink, that was fine. I could drive us home if necessary.

  “Let’s dance.” He put down his glass and took my hand. His grip was tight, making me wince, but I didn’t pull away.

  Once a few feet onto the dance floor, he took me in his arms, his hands settling at my waist, fingers digging in from the first. I shifted closer, wrapping my arms around his neck, hoping my proximity would ease whatever reason had him holding me so tight. He didn’t let up, but he didn’t make it worse.

  Our bodies moved well together. We’d had three years together, not only living together but working together. And our work was music, rhythm. We didn’t dance often, but when we did, it was good. Tonight was no different. As his hands moved from my hips to the small of my back, I let myself relax. It had been a long time since Dale and I did something like this, and despite being tired I was glad we had a date night.

  He pulled me closer until our bodies were pressed tight against each other, our feet barely moving as we swayed. This was nice, being here with him like this. When he put his mouth against my ear, I expected him to say he wanted to head home.

  A split second before he spoke, his fingers dug into my back. “There’s a man watching you. Staring at you.”

  I swallowed hard and fought not to tense as I turned my head slightly so he could hear me. “I’m sure he’s looking at someone else, but it doesn’t matter. You’re the only one I’m interested in.”

  “He shouldn’t be looking at you,” Dale continued, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re mine.”

  I nodded in agreement, my reactions without thought, instinct.

  “Why do you do this?” he asked. “Flaunt yourself in front of other men?”

  I barely held back a pained sound as he dropped his hands to squeeze my butt.

  “Wearing this shit,” he growled.

  It wasn’t my idea to wear it in the first place, but I kept my mouth shut. Saying anything would only make it worse.

  “Doesn’t matter what he’s thinking, though. None of this is for him. It’s all for me.”

  I nodded again.

  “Right?” He placed his hand between my legs.

  “Yes. Of course.”

  I wanted to shove his hand away, but when he got like this, he had a short fuse, and I didn’t want to be the one to light it.

  “Let’s head home, and I’ll fuck you so you can’t walk the next day.”

  My stomach turned over. “I—I’m on my period.”

  I could see his expression darkened.

  “I guess I’ll have to settle with a blowjob. You better make it a good one. You know how I like my cock deep in your throat.” He removed his hand from under my skirt. “Let’s go.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, desperate not to let him see my expression change.

  I’d get through it.

  I always did.

  NINE

  DRAKE

  I let out a sigh of frustration and closed my eyes. Rubbing my forehead, I gave myself a mental kick in the ass. I’d been here since six and had barely made it through a review of two accounts. My mind kept wandering back to last night.

  To her.

  I left the club right after the bartender gave me the man’s name. Dale Leighton.

  Not that I cared about him. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Who was she?

  Could she…somehow be related to Belle?

  I’d hardly slept when a startling thought came to me at some point between midnight and dawn.

  She could be a Brockmire.

  That’s who Belle resembled. Her father’s side of the family. Maybe that was why this woman looked like Belle, because she was a Brockmire.

  I wanted to know.

  I could have asked Stellan if he had a relative in her late twenties, someone in the family who looked similar to Belle, but that would’ve led to a whole awkward conversation.

  “Mr. Mac Gilleain?”

  I looked up to see my assistant, Melvin Borden, standing in the doorway. In his mid-thirties, he looked younger. He’d worked for me since he had graduated. Uncle Ben had asked more than once if there was another position he was interested in, but Mel said he was content. I was grateful I wouldn’t need to train a new assistant while taking over the company.

  “Good morning, Mel.” I smiled at him.

  “Are you alright? You look tired.”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t sleep well.”

  “I’ll get you more coffee.” He flashed a bright smile and disappeared into the hall.

  As I waited for my coffee, I made a decision. I would look into Dale Leighton. From him, I could possibly find out the woman’s name, my Belle look-alike. After that, I would decide if I should ask Stellan about her.

  By the time Mel returned with my coffee, I’d outlined the plan.

  “I have an odd and non-work-related request,” I said.

  “I’m intrigued.” Mel’s hazel eyes shone with excitement.

  “I can’t tell you why, but I want as much information as possible about a man named Dale Leighton living here in the city.”

  Mel pulled out his phone. “Dale Leighton? Anything else you know about him? I mean, this is New York City. Who knows how many Dale Leighton’s there are.”

  I thought back to the man, trying to remember what he looked like. “Probably about your age. Reddish-brown hair. Tall. Broad shoulders.”

  Mel nodded. “Okay, so if I find a picture, you’ll be able to tell me if it’s him?”

  I’d gotten a pretty good look at Leighton. I nodded. “Most likely.”

  “How much work do you want me to put into this?” Mel asked next. “I can do a basic internet search, narrow things down that way…or I can talk to a PI friend of mine and hand it over completely.”

  “Do you think he’d be able to start right away?” I asked.

  “He owes me a favor that I’m more than happy to call in,” Mel said. “He’s good at what he does.”

  I nodded. “All right then. Talk to him. Whatever the rate is, it will be fine. He can bill me directly.”

  “Great.” Mel stood. “I’ll take care of that right now.”

  “Thank you.”

  As he left, I leaned back in my chair and wondered.

  Had I completely lost my mind?

  TEN

  MAGGIE

  I breathed a sigh of relief when Nehemiah called the morning rehearsal to a close. I lowered my arms, trying not to grimace. After a long performance, my muscles would sometimes be sore. Like my jaw and throat was today.

  As soon as I could get up without drawing attention to my eagerness, I excused myself to the restroom. I didn’t need to use it. I wanted some privacy, which was the best way to get it.

  I was alon
e for a minute when I heard the door open, and two laughing women entered.

  “…of course, I know he’s got a girlfriend, but if it was really serious, she’d be a fiancée by now, right?” The woman cleared her throat. “I can’t get rid of this cold,” she said. “I swear I sound like I’ve been smoking for thirty years.”

  I didn’t recognize her voice, but I didn’t care about either of their identities, though. I wanted them to leave so I could be alone again.

  “I’m just worried about you,” the other woman said.

  Water ran in the sink, and then the door closed again. They must’ve been touching up their make-up or something similar. Whatever their reason, they were gone, and I was alone again.

  I stepped out and scrutinized my reflection as I washed my hands.

  I turned my head and winced. When I stretched my neck to the side, the collar of my shirt moved enough to show a hint of purple. I adjusted it off my left shoulder as much as I could, already knowing what I’d see. Five ovals the approximate size of Dale’s fingers.

  His hand pressed on my shoulder, forcing me to my knees. I knew what he wanted…

  I shook the memory free and adjusted my shirt to cover the bruises. At least the weather was still cool enough to wear high-necked sweaters and long sleeves without looking out of place.

  Once satisfied I was in good shape, I made my way back to the rehearsal room. I started toward Dale’s seat, making it only a few steps before I stopped cold.

  Dale’s arm was around Chelsey’s shoulders, and his face was next to hers. She laughed at something, and I recognized that sly grin on his face. Whatever he said, I was sure it had been sexual. Everything he said was sexual, even filthy, whenever he had that expression.

  “Hi, Maggie.”

  I turned to greet one of our percussionists as he walked by, and when I looked back, Dale was staring straight at me. He didn’t step away from Chelsey or take his arm from around her. Nor did he have the decency to pretend to be embarrassed or remorseful. He cocked an eyebrow at me, as if daring me to say something.