Tangled Chords (New Song Series Book 3)

By Brenda Barrett

Whats past is past!

Xavier Bell, the poor ugly duckling has emerged into a rich handsome swan. He is tired of the fast paced life that his hugely successful business afforded him and is looking to return to and settle down in his native Jamaica when he has a chance encounter with his old crush, Hotel heiress, Farrah Knight.

Farrah is about to marry Jason Cavendish, the man her father chose for her. Can Xavier forget how she had cruelly rejected him when he was poor and not looking so fine and pursue the yearning his heart had for her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brenda Barrett
• Release date: May 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9789768247155

Brenda Barrett

Books have always been a big part of life for Jamaican born Brenda Barrett, she reports that she gets withdrawal symptoms if she does not consume at least two books per week. That is all she can manage these days, as her days are filled with writing, a natural progression from her love of reading. Currently, Brenda has several novels on the market, she writes predominantly in the historical fiction, Christian fiction, comedy and romance genres.Apart from writing fictional books, Brenda writes for her blogs blackhair101.com; where she gives hair care tips and fiwibooks.com, where she shares about her writing life.

Book preview

Tangled Chords

By

Brenda Barrett

Published by Jamaica Treasures at Smashwords:

Copyright 2014 by Brenda Barrett

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Discover other titles in the New Song Series:

Going Solo

Duet on Fire

Broken Harmony

A Past Refrain

Perfect Melody

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Chapter One

Farrah Knight alighted from her Mercedes Sports Coupe and grabbed the bouquet of red roses from the passenger seat, along with her iPad. She took the opportunity to check out her reflection in the rearview mirror because she had hurriedly left her house and had not given herself the usual pampering for which she prided herself.

Her red tint lip gloss was still perfect and none of it was caught on her teeth. Her white Gucci pantsuit still fit her as snugly and as perfectly as it did when she bought it. She was not usually this obsessive with her appearance, but recently she realized that the unhappier she felt, the more she wanted to project a completely different picture on the outside.

She looked at the entrance to the maternity ward and then down at her five-inch heels. She was not used to walking long distances in heels, nor was she fond of hospitals; she couldn't even recall the last time she stepped near one. She took in a deep breath and held the roses in front of her and advanced to the entrance of the building reluctantly, as if she was going to be sacrificed.

Her engagement party was two short weeks away, moved up because of her father's impatient insistence, and now she had to pressure Ruby and Cynth to get what they thought would be two months’ worth of planning done in two weeks.

Her wedding date was also to be moved up at her father's insistence. It was July, and she was supposed to have the party at the end of the month and then get married in the first week of August. She didn't have the backbone or the heart to protest her father's high-handed meddling in her affairs—so here she was at the hospital to do business.

She felt a twinge of guilt for coming to the hospital like this since Ruby had given birth the night before, but when she called this morning, Ruby told her that they could have a planning session today at midday. She entered the hospital and gave the nurse at the front Ruby's name.

Oh, you are here to see little Amber Scott, the nurse smiled. She is in the nursery room.

Amber Scott? Farrah almost asked aloud, and then it clicked that Ruby had named her daughter Amber.

No, not the baby, she said to the smiling nurse. I am here to see the mother.

The nurse nodded, her manic smile still plastered on her face while she answered the ringing telephone.

She covered the phone's receiver. It is down the hallway, to the right, she mouthed to Farrah.

Farrah looked at her doubtfully. Don't they have room numbers in the place? Her Jimmy Choo shoes were not made for walking to faraway places based on vague directions. She glanced down the long corridor doubtfully and lifted her roses from the reception desk and headed gingerly down the corridor.

She turned right and was greeted by a wall of glass. Beyond the glass were a number of bassinets with cooing babies.

Perfect, just perfect, she thought, drifting closer to the glass. Now she had to walk back to the reception desk and inquire about Ruby's room.

She was about to stalk off when she saw a tall guy in an expensive tan leather jacket with his hands in his pockets, his gaze firmly fixed on the baby room.

How sweet, she thought and then she watched as he angled his head to the side. He looked vaguely familiar—familiar enough for her to stop and take the four steps back to the window to look at him properly.

Once more she glanced into the nursery, but he looked around and caught her checking him out when she swung around to look at him again. She couldn't pretend casual interest anymore.

He was in oversized shades and had the pinkest chiseled lips, with a thin mustache. She swallowed. Lip fuzz, pink lips, and oodles of sex appeal. He was hot. Even without seeing the rest of his face, she was intrigued.

Hey, she said to him nervously. What was wrong with her?

He smiled. His smile started slowly and then got wider and wider as he turned toward her fully. He had straight white teeth; she caught herself looking at them and then at her reflection in his glasses.

Hey. His voice was slightly husky.

So you are a new dad, huh? Farrah asked, gesturing to the nursery. She anxiously waited for him to answer. She hoped that he wasn't a new dad; that would mean that his wife or girlfriend would be somewhere in the building. The thought of him being taken made her oddly downcast.

No, he said, shaking his head. I am a new uncle…Baby number four. He pointed to the fourth baby in the bassinet. That's her.

She's cute, Farrah said, relieved. She couldn't care less about looking at the baby. They all looked the same anyway. Babies, in general, were not her cup of tea but she looked closer at the baby he indicated to and read the nametag on the bassinet in order to give him a polite response. It read Amber Scott.

You know Ruby Scott? she asked, half-wishing that he would take off his glasses so that she could see his face properly. He intrigued her.

Yeees, he said, dragging out the yes slowly as if she was slow-witted.

If she had an extra foot, she would kick herself. The man just said he was an uncle. Obviously, he would know Ruby. He was probably her brother. They had the same complexion and tight curly hair.

Er, do I know you from somewhere? Farrah asked. The tug of familiarity to this guy was strong—not only familiarity but also a weird attraction. She couldn't recall, in all her twenty-seven years, being this attracted to any guy, not even Jason Cavendish, her fiancé. It was almost instant, this connection. That was the only reason she was lingering around a nursery talking to this stranger, though he seemed familiar.

Yes, he said after a telling pause. You know me pretty well.

Farrah squinted up at him. Where do I know you from? Was it Lawrence Tate's yacht party? Were you one of the investors?

He shook his head and grinned.

Corrine Dailey's soiree that she held for the governor general and the government ministers?

No, he said, chuckling.

She snapped her fingers. Were you at that modeling gig that my charity did with the firemen? I know, she chuckled, you are Mr. January!

She looked at him intently. He had the same caramel colored skin and a handsome profile. Except that at the time she had not been even remotely attracted to Mr. January. Realizing that she had no business chatting up this man, she decided to get on her way.

He slowly took off his shades and his glossy chestnut brown eyes seared into hers. Her first thought was that he shouldn't hide his eyes with dark glasses. They were beautiful.

Seriously, Farrah! he said, angling his head to the side. I might develop a complex from this lack of recognition on your part. Don't tell me you have broken so many hearts that you have lost count?

And then it hit Farrah; he was familiar because he resembled Xavier Bell, her childhood friend, and confidant, except that Xavier was never this hunky, or handsome, or infinitely desirable.

Her brain had a hard task trying to reconcile the handsome specimen in front of her with the skinny nerdy guy that wore thick horn-rimmed glasses and had bad skin, who would play tea with her and listen to her various adolescent problems.

Xavier! Farrah squealed. I can't believe it! She searched his face, looking for something familiar.

This version of Xavier resembled his brother Carson more than ever. He had the thick level brows and chiseled cheekbones; he obviously worked out. He was leanly muscular and wore sophistication as comfortably as he wore his jacket.

Xavier grinned. She looked at his lips and then hurriedly looked up at his eyes. Her fingers felt nervy and trembling. She almost dropped the roses she was holding.

How are you, Farrah? You look well. You haven't changed much.

I am fine. Farrah shook her head. I really can't believe it. You fixed your eyes.

Yes, I did. Xavier smiled, I got myself a makeover. Thanks in part to you.

Farrah grimaced. I always wanted to apologize about that last time. I was pretty rotten to you, and I never got the chance to tell you that I was sorry.

Xavier nodded. Extremely rotten, but it's okay. What's past is past.

He looked at her engagement ring, a big diamond rock that was sparkling under the lights. I hear that you are getting married.

Farrah nodded mutely. Her exuberance died just as it started. Of all the people in the world, she couldn't lie to Xavier and pretend that she was happy. He was always able to see through her, except for that one time that she was thoroughly ashamed of now.

He moved away from the glass, giving the baby one last look. I wish you all the best, Farrah, and hope that you are happy.

Wait, that’s it? Farrah almost screamed. Can't you see how unhappy I am about this engagement? Talk to me, convince me to confide in you like I used to. Help me get through this. But then she remembered how badly she had treated Xavier the last time they spoke. How she had mocked him and scorned him and told him to leave her alone. How she had told him to find a girl in his class, someone who could put up with his handicap. She had been deliberately harsh and hateful to Xavier and had done it in front of her snickering, snotty friends. They had laughed at him, and he had looked as if he wanted to cry.

She could see his expression in her mind's eye now, and once more she felt the burden of that day weighing her down. It was as if she had kicked a puppy in the head.

Almost immediately, she felt dreadful about what she had done to him. For days afterward, she worried if she had crushed his spirit. She had always regretted that she did not get a chance to apologize to Xavier.

She cleared her throat and wondered if inviting him to her engagement party would seem like an apology. She also wondered if it would resurrect the friendship that they once had. If he accepted her apology it would show her that he had put the past behind him and had moved on with his life.

He moved away from her dismissively, and Farrah wondered if he still hated her.

Xavier, would you like to come to my engagement party? It is in two weeks. I was just here to run over the guest list with Ruby.

Xavier turned back, looked at her, and shrugged. Okay, sure. I am staying at Carson's for the time being. You can send my invite there.

Suddenly she missed the Xavier of yesteryear, the one who used to treat her like someone precious, who would make time to listen to whatever was going on in her life. She had felt his absence when he left Jamaica, and now she realized just how unsettled she had been without him.

He raised his eyebrows as she drank him in. He did not say a word, he just stood there and looked at her with his hands thrust in his pockets.

Farrah sighed. That was it. He wasn't going to ask her about her impending marriage or how she got on through the years. He didn't seem as if he wanted to prolong their chat at all. She could see a look of impatience on his face as if he didn't want to be near her.

She wanted to ask him what he was doing now, where he was living, and if he had gotten the chance to sell his computer ideas. Was he happy? Did he have a wife or children?

Her eyes strayed to his left hand. He wasn't wearing a wedding band. She felt a rush of relief, and she wondered why she would feel that way, but she reminded herself that Xavier had always unsettled her even before he had grown into this handsome specimen.

Xavier was always the person to mess with her peace of mind, and now, as she watched him walk away after a casual goodbye, she wondered why she felt so bereft. She hadn't seen the guy in nine years. She had an engagement party to plan, an impatient father to please, but most of all she had to work up some enthusiasm for marrying Jason Cavendish.

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Xavier drove to Carson's house; he had been staying there since he sold his condominium in Northern California and returned to Jamaica three weeks ago. He had done what he had set out to do nine years earlier when he left Jamaica armed with only an idea and the belief that he could make a huge success of it. He had made a ridiculous amount of money out of it, but he realized that