She

By Nikki-Jo Mars

A novel about awakening, love and finding your purpose in life. Life can change in an instant and just as quickly change again. You can harden your heart, but the hurt will never heal until you let someone in. Love is the only thing that can heal. Find out in this journey of awakening and love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781387398133

Book preview

She

SHE

A novel by Nikki-Jo Mars

Blurb

A novel about awakening, love and finding your purpose in life. Life can change in an instant and just as quickly change again. You can harden your heart, but the hurt will never heal until you let someone in. Love is the only thing that can heal. Find out in this journey of awakening and love.

Disclaimer

Revised Edition

SHE is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are use fictiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This book contains explicit sexual male/female relationships and is not suitable for those under 18 years of age. This book was previously published under a different author.

Copyright © 2017 Joanne Reid-Haynes

All rights reserved

ISBN: 978-1-387-39813-3

This work is licensed under a Standard Copyright License.

Warning: All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without written permission, except for brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the police and is punishable by fine or imprisonment.

Contact the publisher for further information.

Cover artwork by Joanne Reid-Haynes.

1

Have you ever seen a sky so blue your eyes hurt just to look at it? she asked. She was on the terrace of a house high on a hill. There was just her and the phone. She of the emerald eyes and dark hair that flowed over her shoulders in a cascade of lazy curls. She of the melodic voice and laughter that tickled and caressed you when she decided to grace you with it. She of the long limbs and creamy smooth skin that felt like velvet to the touch. She of the extremes of emotions who can be charming and attentive one moment, then cold and distant the next. She who can drive a man crazy wanting to please her every whim and driving him crazier when he could not. She of the impossibles and she of the improbables.

She laughed, her chimes carried across the wind. Her hair caught on a puff of breeze caressing her cheek. She raises a hand to absently push it from her face annoyed that her hair could never stay how she fixed it. She cradles the phone to her ear to listen closely to her caller. The sun reflecting off the water of the fountain plays prisms on her face. She shields her eyes to see the figure approaching from the house. She dismisses her caller and stands to greet her visitor.

Brandon! she dropped her voice to a warm embrace and smiled widely. I wasn’t expecting to see you today. Why didn’t you have Tracey call me or Tad, I would have had something waiting for you. Her voice gently scolded but her eyes shone with excitement at the unexpected visit. She liked surprises especially in the form of this particular visitor.

Brandon strolled onto the terrace. He of the dark hair and copper skin betraying his love of all things which kept him outside in the sun. He loathed having to barter and beg his deals in the corporate world, but he was a hard but fair negotiator ensuring that all parties left the table knowing that all terms were agreed to and can be fully complied with. He would much rather be negotiating a tight corner in his Ferrari or the rapids on the river flowing through the family estate.

Dearest sister, how could I surprise you otherwise? they laugh and embrace. The warmth of familial attachment how touching, but there is none to witness this exchange.

Tell me brother, what brings you here?

I have come to take you away. Go put on something festive, Mother awaits!

She pouts testily. It is lovely and playful. Why are we to see Mother today? Haven’t I paid my monthly visit? Haven’t I paid homage to her throne? Haven’t I assured her she is still the fairest in the land? her tone becomes mocking. Her gestures are wide as she mocks a bow and flourishers her arms.

Brandon watches in amusement and applauds her performance. Still, she expects us and she will not be amused by our tardiness.

This surprise is not what I expected when I saw you just then. Why is it she sent you and did not summon me herself?

She knew you would not refuse me. She knew if she asked you would exercise your option to ignore her and she did not wish you to use it yet. He smiled slyly. She exhaled glumly.

Alright, dear brother, I will accede to her request in this instance only. You will be sure to express to her my displeasure at her deception and will not be goaded in this manner again. She turned on her heels elegantly and walked into the house. Brandon lounged by the pool. Shortly he was joined by another bronzed body clothed in white, carrying a tray filled with an assortment of treats.

The mistress requested some refreshments for the guest. She did not indicate it was you sir, or my choices would have been more suited to your pleasures. The bronze figure placed the tray on the table.

This is appropriate for the moment Thaddeus. Brandon raised himself in one fluid motion, pulled a confection from the tray and poured from the jug into the silvered goblet beside it. He drank, made a face and placed the goblet onto the tray.

On the other hand Thaddeus, my usual drink will be welcome. The bronzed figure disappeared in the house and returned shortly with another tray containing a crystal bottle and matching glass. Brandon poured from the bottle into the glass, took a long drink, made a face and refilled his glass.

Much improved. Thank you Thaddeus.

I take it you are here to engage the mistress in some activity she is sure not to like.

Yes Thaddeus. You should know as you will have to manage her when she returns. We are off to see Mother. Brandon looks closely at the bronzed figure - a raised eyebrow, an exhaled breath. Brandon is amazed at his composure. Apart from himself, Thaddeus is the only other person who could manage his sister’s changeable moods and strange requests.

Brandon returns to lounging on the chair. He is sure the sun has moved in the sky. His sister finally emerges. She is resplendent in a gown designed specifically for her. She only wears clothes no one else has worn in designs no one else has. She does not go to the boutiques, the boutiques come to her. All designers are desperate for her to choose them. They know how difficult she is, but once her demands are met and she is pleased with their fare the door to the elite will be opened.

Did Tad keep you properly entertained? the sarcasm dripping from her tone was charming and designed to deter any response.

Shall we go brother? We can’t keep mother waiting? her manner indicated that it would be reported that Brandon was to blame for such an infraction.

Brandon smiled wanly. He rose and offered his arm. Shall we go?

She took his arm. Don’t wait up Tad. Brandon will take good care of me. You may have the rest of the afternoon off but I expect you to have my breakfast ready at 6. My trainer will be here at 7.

Thank you mistress, it will be as you say.

2

The sun shone down on them as they made the lazy turns down the hill. She rests her head on the headrest. Her shades cover half her face. She is the perfect undercover celebrity. They share a comfortable silence. Neither feels the need to break it. The mountains give way to suburbs, suburbs give way to city.

I’ve always hated the city - so close, so suffocating. I never understood why mother felt so comfortable here, but then again her vanity was always supported by those fawning at her feet and what better place than in the city. She sighs dolefully.

Brandon knew there was no need for an answer. Her musings and proclamations are just to be accepted.

They crawl into the basement of the Palatial seat of her Royal Highness, the Lady Marjorie of the Impossibles. They laugh. It was the standard ritual on entering their mother’s residence. They park. They enter the private elevator which leads to the penthouse suite. There are restrictions for access to that suite. With the social and financial status of their family nothing less was expected.

An elegantly dressed woman stands as the doors to the elevator open.

Ducky! Brandon hugs the woman and plants a loud kiss on the woman’s cheek.

Master, please. Your mother waits. The woman flushes at the attention. Brandon is the only one to elicit such response from the usually dower woman. Brandon has long been accustomed to the changeable nature of women. He has compensated by learning to placate them and surprise them with his charm, quickly disarming with a word or a smile.

Brandon puts the woman down. She turns to the other in the elevator.

Always a pleasure to see you, mistress. Please attempt to be civil today. Remember I must manage her after you have gone and I am not as young and patient as I once was.

She bends to give the older woman a kiss on the cheek. She smiles a genuinely warm smile reserved for those who have touched her heart. There are not many of those but Ducky was a very special person. The person her mother should have been if her vanity did not get in the way.

I shall try to be gentle, Ducky, but I cannot make any promises for her.

You know mistress, you are more like her than you’d like to admit. That is why you cannot get along.

Ducky … always with the wonderful advice! She smiles tightly. Ducky ushers them into a large vaulted room. Violet and crimson velvet cloths cover the walls from floor to ceiling. Plush cushions and tapestries cover the floor. A clear path guides visitors to a throne-like chair on an elevated stand.

Walking the distance from the entrance to the base of that chair she remembered playing in that room, hiding among the curtains, moving the cushions. She never could make herself sit on her mother’s chair. She also remembered sitting at her mother’s feet listening to her converse with her supplicants. They could never be called friends as that would imply they were somehow her equals when they were not. She learned to become her own Lady of the Impossibles at her mother’s feet.

Ducky walked quietly behind them. Ducky always walked softly. It was amazing how Ducky always managed to know just when she about to put herself in the fire. She would quietly enter look at her with that look of warning and whatever mischief she was contemplating would dissolve. She was trying to remember how they began calling her Ducky. She could not even recall Ducky’s proper name. She tried to remember if she ever heard her mother call her anything other than Ducky. Her father was long since buried so she couldn’t ask him.

She took a breath. She was fixating. She had to clear her head. She could not be distracted when dealing with her mother. She breathed again. Brandon squeezed her hand. He was saying something. She had to focus.

I’ll be right in the kitchen.

Where are you going? Don’t leave me with her.

No, this pow-wow is just for you two.

Brandon! a hoarse whisper. She began feeling abandoned, but Brandon was already greeting their mother and taking his leave from the room.

Soon it was just her and her mother. She couldn’t remember the last time she was alone in a room with her mother. There was always Brandon or Ducky to run interference between them. Now it was just the two of them in this gaudy room designed to intimidate the minions.

Hello Mother. She tried to put a smile into her voice. She tried to give a genuine smile.

Her mother drank from her glass. You don’t fool me. I know what you’re thinking - What has that bitch to say to me now?

Mother I never refer to you in those terms. I may not respect you but I do respect your position, even if you failed the role. Her mocking tone was apparent.

It does us no good to act this way. We have much to discuss.

Am I to sit at your feet as when I was a child? Am I to sit below as one of your supplicants?

No daughter. You will sit beside me here. Her mother pulled a cord to reveal a chair on