Three Wishes_A Second Chance at Love Contemporary Romance Read online

  "Actually, the dime belongs to the Benedict sisters. Think of me as the middleman. Or woman, as the case may be."

  Again, the look in Dee's dark eyes sharpened. If she hoped to get a reaction from him, tough luck. Noah was a master of hiding his emotions. More than a poker face, his business rivals swore he wasn't human. No matter what life threw at him, he didn't flinch. Some called him the Iceman—a nickname he wore with pride.

  "Speaking of the Benedicts, you can stop sending those not-so-surreptitious looks toward the door. None of them will be here. Especially, her."

  "Her?" Noah asked, his tone casual, even bored. "I don't know who you meant?

  The words slipped through his lips out of habit. When pushed into a corner, bluff. If lies don't work, prepare for a fight. Either way, he never let his opponent get the better of him even if he ended up a bit bloodied and bruised. If punches were thrown, he gave as good as he got.

  Now and then, he ran into someone just as stubborn. Someone who always had to be right and needed the last word—and wasn't afraid to get down and dirty in the trenches. Funny, the toughest customers he'd ever encountered were both women.

  Maybe funny was the wrong word. Ironic sounded better. Women were called the weaker sex—a major misnomer in Noah's experience. Superior physical strength could only get you so far.

  Mentally, females were focused, sharp, and wily. Given a chance, they were by far the better employees—again, in his experience.

  Dee Wakefield was a perfect example. She survived the Navy where men had most of the power. As a civilian, she tackled the male-dominated world of private investigation. On the way, she maneuvered around a lot of obstacles. Or, when she had no choice, barreled over them.

  And then there was Andi Benedict. To judge her by her blond, delicate, regal exterior was to underestimate her iron-willed determination and unparalleled strength of character. He made the same mistake long ago. She taught him to look beyond the surface and adjust his preconceived notions. One of many lessons he took with him when he walked out of her life.

  "The first task I tackled before the Benedict sisters hired me was to run a background check." Dee poured herself a cup of coffee from the always full pot she kept near her desk. "Want one?"

  Arms crossed, Noah declined the offer. He wanted to hear the rest of Dee's story.

  "What did you find?" he asked. Like he didn't already know.

  "Nothing earthshaking. For a bunch of trust fund babies, they've kept their noses clean. No wild-child parties or drunken run-ins with the law. Admirable, the lot of them. When we finally met, I expected boring, uptight snobs."

  Noah snorted. Someone who didn't know them might call them snobs. However, Andi and her sisters were anything but boring. Spectacular. Dazzling. A rare combination of beauty, brains, compassion, and a need to make the world a better place. Frustrating, opinionated, stubborn, and maddening. They could drive a man crazy. But boring? Never.

  "I assume you changed your opinion or we wouldn't be here."

  "Turn down a job because I don't like the client?" A glint of humor in her eyes, Dee shook her head. "Nope. If I can tolerate the person and he or she has the cash, why should I care? But, you're right. I did change my opinion. I like them. All of them. Though Destry takes a bit of getting used to."

  Noah smiled for the first time as he remembered the youngest Benedict sister. A hard nut to crack. Almost as much as Andi, he dreaded Destry's reaction when they met again.

  "What's your point, Dee?"

  Dee sipped her coffee.

  "Simple. We've worked together before. But you would never leave Los Angeles. Suddenly, I mention the Benedicts, and you hop the next plane."

  "Hardly."

  "You want to split hairs?" Dee gave him an annoyed look. "Fine. Took you two weeks to clear your calendar. Point is, you came. Why?"

  "Ingo Hunter needs taking down."

  "Good answer. Now, tell me the real reason." The P.I. raised an eyebrow. "Unless you want to hear my theory."

  "Not particularly."

  Dee continued, undeterred by Noah's harsh tone.

  "Andi Benedict."

  "Whatever you think you know, you're wrong," Noah said with a sharp, decisive shake of his head.

  Andi had a lot to do with his return to New York. But she wasn't the only reason. His history with Ingo Hunter gave him an insight into how ruthless the man could be. The scum had too much power and wielded too much influence. The world would be a better place if, with his help, Dee and the Benedict sisters brought Hunter to his knees.

  "I know what I read. Google blew up when I typed your name linked with Andi's. Quite the romance. Quite the engagement. Quite the breakup."

  "Didn't think gossip, and innuendo were your style."

  "Only when nothing else is available," Dee said.

  Noah felt his gut clench. If Dee's mere mention of his one-time romance was enough to raise his blood pressure, how would he react when faced with Andi's inevitable ire? The thought didn't help relax his clenched jaw.

  "Nobody's business," he ground out.

  "Normally, I'd agree. Except, if you make Andi uncomfortable, her sisters will feel the same. They may decide to take their business elsewhere."

  "I'm here because they agreed to bring me on the case." Much to Noah's surprise. "If you had any doubts, you should have said something before I rearranged my life."

  "My turn to call bullshit."

  With a hefty sigh, Noah ran a hand through his hair.

  "Why? Or do I want to know?"

  "Three reasons. One." Holding up her hand, Dee ticked off the number for dramatic effect. "As stated earlier, you never come east. Not since I've known you. Two. Busy or not, your schedule is flexible because you're the boss and your staff is highly trained and brutally efficient. If you want to take off at a moment's notice, you're out the door. Three."

  "One and two are enough."

  Noah was a big boy, able to stick out his chin and take his licks. However, he felt a little raw. New York City, his hometown, held a cacophony of memories—good and bad. Yet, from the moment he stepped off the plane, all he could think about was one thing. One person. He didn't need Dee to remind him.

  "Number three." Deliberately, Dee paused, head cocked to one side.

  Noah sighed. If she wanted a prompt, she would wait until hell froze over. Though, by his estimation, the event should occur sooner than later. Around the time Andi Benedict turned her icy green gaze his way.

  Just the thought made Noah mentally shudder. Part dread, and, yes, part excitement. Seemed, where Andi was concerned, he had more of the masochist in him than he realized.

  "You came back for her."

  "I came back for…" Surprised—no, shocked—Noah's mouth fell open. "Are you out of your mind?"

  "Probably. Sometimes." Dee gave a so what shrug. "Makes two of us. Correction. If you think you can waltz in and pick up where you left off, you're more than out of your mind. You're certifiably whacked out."

  "Why would you think—?" Noah felt the surprise wear off and his temper rise. Admirably, he kept his anger at a simmer. "I don't owe you an explanation."

  "True."

  "However, I'll say one thing, one time. I'm here for two reasons. To help the Benedict sisters cut out the cancer that is Ingo Hunter from their lives. And, in a way, for Andi. But," he rushed on before the smirk on Dee's face became an outright I told you so gloat. "Not to get her back. To put a definitive period at the end of our relationship."

  "You plan to apologize? Grovel? Beg her forgiveness?" If the happy glint in her eyes were any indication, Dee seemed to like all three options. "Crawl? Simper? Cry?"

  "Unlikely."

  "Oh." Disappointment tinged the word. "Then what?"

  "None of your fucking business."

  Even if Noah were disposed to share his personal feelings—which he wasn't—how could he tell Dee when he had no idea himself what he would s
ay or do? His gut told him one thing. Be cool. Be matter of fact. Andi, pragmatic to the core, appreciated both. His heart—the organ he ignored three years ago and every day since—told him something else.

  From the moment they met, cool and matter of fact had no place in their relationship. They burned hot. The way they laughed, the way they argued, most of all, the way they loved—in and out of bed. A simple look and steam rose between them. A touch, and passion ignited in an uncontrollable inferno. They never worried they might dance too close to the fire. Love gave them a feeling of invincibility.

  Until Noah and the insecurity he tried so hard to mask, burned them both. On his side, the self-inflicted scars ran deep. He hoped—needed to know once and for all—that Andi fared better.

  Guilt and regret, Noah discovered too late, were bitter companions.

  "Are we here to work, or discuss my private life?" The steel in his voice left no room for compromise. "Either I check into my hotel or get on the next flight to Los Angeles. Tell me now."

  "You're a hard S.O.B." Dee chuckled. "And the best damn cyber-hound I've ever met. I need your computer skills more than I need a dose of gossip, no matter how juicy."

  "Then shoot me the latest information you have on Ingo Hunter. The sooner we take the bastard down, the better." He paused by the door. "Have you found anything more about Hunter's long, lost son?"

  "Ingo Hunter III?" Dee's frustration was hard to miss. "He dropped off the face of the earth straight out of high school. Could be dead. Could be holed up in a shack in the Himalayas."

  "Could be hiding in plain sight."

  Dee nodded. "Wherever, I'd bet next month's rent he isn't in contact with his father. The day Hunter number three turned eighteen, he walked away from a sweet lifestyle and a sizable inheritance. Why?"

  "Hates his father?"

  "Seems likely." Thoughtfully, Dee's eyes narrowed. "Did the two clash because they're so much alike? Or complete opposites?"

  "If you find Hunter's son, then what?" Noah frowned. "He could be useless."

  "The Benedict sisters don't think so. And I agree." Dee finished off her coffee. "The more we know, the better. Even a small piece of information could be the key."

  "I hope you're right."

  Noah slid on his sunglasses, left the hotel room, and walked toward the rented cobalt-blue Jaguar. He understood money. Numbers never lied. People weren't as easy to predict. Andi might freeze him out. She might refuse to see him. She might kick him in the balls and walk over his body without a backward glance. The choices were numerous. How she chose to handle his reentry into her life, only time would tell.

  The car purred to life. As Noah shifted into gear, he wondered if Andi ever thought about him. Once, they were as close as two people could be. He could look into her eyes and know exactly what she thought, how she felt, what she needed.

  Now? The years had changed him. Andi hadn't existed in a bubble. She would be a different woman than the one he once knew. But, maybe, just maybe, she had a little forgiveness left in her. Enough to ease his weary soul.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ~~~~

  ANDI COULD HAVE stopped the dream. Or at the very least, altered the path of her unconscious mind. Dozing at her desk, she wasn't completely asleep. The images, memories, flowed like water from a gentle brook. Why would she want to stop something so easy, so natural?

  Instead, Andi rested her head against the back of her chair, a slight smile on her face, and rooted past the hurt and heartbreak to the good times. To the feelings of warmth and friendship. To when, despite everything she knew to the contrary, she still believed in happily ever after.

  Closing her eyes, Andi let herself remember the man she loved. She let herself remember Noah.

  "Andi?"

  Startled from her musing, Andi sat up straight. Seemed her trip down memory lane mirrored her relationship with Noah. Short and sweet with an ending she didn't see coming. This time, thank goodness, she didn't need to contend with bitter disappointment.

  In need of a few minutes to herself, Andi had instructed her assistant not to disturb her unless absolutely necessary. Running a hand over her face, she wasn't surprised by the interruption. Full of high drama, the fashion world often seemed to thrive on moments of absolutely necessary.

  "Gerry Norton is on line three. Needs to talk to you right away."

  "Why didn't he call my cell?" Frowning, Andi checked her phone. Dead. "Well, crap. And I forgot my charger."

  "Let me." Sandra, the eternal lifesaver, held out her hand. "Don't forget your boyfriend. He sounded more wound-up than usual."

  Great, Andi thought, tempted to ignore the flashing light. Gerry was handsome, charming, a good dancer, a pleasant dinner companion, and a decent lover. If only he could dial back the intensity where his job was concerned. Too often, when Andi was in the mood to mellow out, Gerry stayed wound up like a hyperactive ping pong ball.

  The man could exhaust her faster than a ten-mile run in ninety-degree weather. Andi tried to understand. But if she had to hear about one more legal case to end all other legal cases, she would scream. For her sake, and for his, their relationship needed some serious reevaluation. And soon.

  "Gerry's job with the district attorney is stressful."

  How many times had she made the same excuse for Gerry? And why? Because he was convenient? Had she reached a point in her personal life where she'd stopped trying for anyone better than a man she sort of liked and kind of enjoyed in bed?

  Andi let out a hefty sigh. Until recently, she thought Gerry was a good bet. What had changed? The answer came to her in a flash. Noah. His return highlighted everything wrong with Gerry Norton. Not because Noah was perfect, not by a long shot. But because, over time she'd inflated the memory of him—of the good times—toward unfair proportions another man couldn't possibly live up to.

  Blame Noah. Andi liked the idea so much, her mood lifted considerably. Smiling, she picked up the phone.

  "Gerry. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

  Andi cringed when she heard her overly sweet tone. She felt better, but she didn't want to rot her teeth from too much sugar.

  "Hey. I need to cancel tonight. The briefs on the Mandolin case grow and change on the hour. Add the three other files I must handle. If I don't catch up tonight, I never will."

  Andi could picture the grin on Gerry's face. He welcomed as many assignments as possible—the higher the profile, the better. Assistant district attorney was a stepping stone. One day mayor. Then governor. Eventually, the White House. He would want a woman by his side. Though she wished him luck, the woman wouldn't be her.

  "I'll enjoy an early night." The idea made Andi smile with anticipation.

  "Sure you don't mind? I know how much you wanted to try Caroline's."

  Gerry was the one obsessed with Manhattan's latest must-see hot spot. Reservations were close to impossible unless you were an A-list celebrity—or had major name recognition. Her family and personal success qualified Andi on both counts.

  Because Gerry rarely asked, Andi relented and used her clout to jump the queue. After all the fuss, she should have been upset by his last-minute cancelation. She wasn't. Another sign their relationship was headed toward the end of the line.

  "New restaurants come and go, Gerry." With alarming frequency. "If Caroline's is still around in a month or so, I'll give the place a try."

  Gerry missed her use of I instead of we. Oh, well. He'd get the message soon enough.

  "I knew you'd understand. Business before pleasure. Right?"

  "Right."

  "Call you soon."

  Take your time. Andi hung up, shaking her head. Without a bit of guilt, she decided to break their relationship off the next time she saw Gerry face to face. He didn't love her. She looked good on his arm, and on paper.

  People married for worse reasons than professional expediency. Andi wanted more. Much more.

  Leaving her desk, And
i opened her office door. As she expected, she found her assistant, nose to the grindstone.

  "What will happen if I leave work early?"

  "Since the possibility has never come up, I have absolutely no idea." Sandra continued to type, shooting Andi a sideways glance. "Tell you what. If the building implodes the moment you step foot outside, we'll know the answer. Or rather you will. I won't be around to care."

  "Something tells me you and the building will survive." Andi picked up her partially charged phone. Since finding a cab this time of day would be next to impossible, she put in a call to the car service she and her sisters kept on speed dial.

  "I'll alert the media. Andi Benedict Takes Afternoon Off. Definitely newsworthy."

  "I don't care if you tell the media. Just don't inform Lee Foyle. He'd probably use my absence to stage a coup."

  "He's talented," Sandra conceded. "But a leader needs support. One word and everyone here would follow you into battle. We wouldn't follow Lee across the street."

  Laughing, Andi stepped into the elevator. As the doors closed, she called out a warning to Sandra.

  "Don't tell my sisters I didn't take the stairs."

  ~~~~

  THE PRESIDENTIAL SUITE at The Stanton Plaza smelled faintly of cinnamon. And a lot like money.

  Noah stood on the balcony overlooking Manhattan and wondered when he reached the point where he didn't ask how much a room cost per night. Somewhere between his first day in Los Angeles and now. The realization didn't bother him. His bank account was fatter than he had ever dreamed and the feeling was unbelievably fantastic.

  Dark amber liquid swirled in a glass of fine crystal. Only the best these days. When he thought about all the sweat, frustration, bottles of cheap booze, and heartache he'd endured, Noah let out a humorless laugh. He was back where he started. However, this time the view was a hell of a lot better.

  Taking a deep breath of good old New York air, Noah downed his drink, setting the glass next to the almost full Baccarat decanter. He wasn't tempted to have another. One was his limit. Three years ago, he spent two months in a booze-filled haze. When he finally stopped the pity party, pulled his head out of his sorry ass, and dried out, he swore never again.