Page 1 of Loving Her Enemy

Chapter One

The driver of the luxury sedan opened the back door, inviting Halayna to step out into the muggy June air. She cradled her sprained wrist against her body and readjusted her overstuffed backpack, weighed down with her most prized possessions.

Everything happened so fast. One minute she was in the emergency room at a New York hospital, depressed by the idea of going back to her lonely apartment where she was facing eviction. The next minute, she was boarding a flight, booked by her bestie, to Atlanta. Now, here Halayna was about to start a new chapter in her life.

Her pulse amped, and a bead of sweat trickled down her spine as she stood in front of the gorgeous mansion. Suddenly, she was second-guessing her decision to leave New York in search of a new beginning.

Deep in her heart, she was more than ready for a change. Yet, there was a part of her, the part that had endured a long string of bad luck, one thing after another, that shifted her anxiety into overdrive.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she wasn’t as ready as she had hoped to start her life over.

Now that she was thirty, she wasn’t as impulsive, but this move said otherwise. She shouldn’t have gone along with this crazy idea, especially now without thinking it all the way through. Had she set herself up for more failure?

“It’s too late to back out now,” Bristol said from beside her. It was as if her best friend could read her mind. “The driver just left, and I refuse to run down that ridiculously long, cobblestone driveway to chase after him.”

Halayna glanced around them, surprised to see her meager possessions at her feet and the black car long gone.

How long had she been standing there, staring at the house where she’d be living for at least a few months? But could she even call it a house? The white brick and limestone structure, with more windows than she could count and bronze-colored double doors that led inside the eight-bedroom, twelve-bathroom home, was like something straight out of Architectural Digest magazine. Add that to the huge, manicured yard, massive water fountain, and more garage stalls than she’d ever seen, and you had the home of billionaire business tycoon, Sloane Davidson. Her mortal enemy.

Halayna sighed and ran her fingers through her long, dark, wavy hair that hung down her back. “I have a feeling this is going to rank number one as the worst decision I’ve ever made,” she mumbled, and Bristol chuckled.

“Seriously? You think this is worse than you streaking naked across campus, on a dare, during our sophomore year of college? Or the time you thought it a good idea to eat a dozen inferno hot wings, in fifteen minutes, all in the name of besting the jerk we met at that one bar?

“Or do you think the decision to move to Atlanta, and start your life over, is worse than when you agreed to marry Owen and put up with his trifling ass while he kept pushing back your wedding date for over two years? Really? Two years, Halayna, he had you thinking you guys were getting married. I’d say it ranks number one, and that douchebag is the catalyst for why you’re in this position now.”

Halayna flinched at her friend’s tone. Hearing her recite the best of Halayna’s bad decisions had her lowering her eyes to the walkway. She wished she could disagree with Bristol and tell her she hadn’t been that bad over the years, but she couldn’t. Instead, she bit down on her lower lip to keep from bursting into tears or, worse, running away and trying to find a black hole to leap into.

Considering she was college educated and relatively smart, her life didn’t reflect it. Not. At. All. Seemed like, lately, it had been one bad decision after another, and there were times when she wondered if she would ever bounce back. If only she could have a do-over and step into the life she had always dreamed of living. The one where she had her own perfume company, was married with two kids, and living in her dream home.

But life didn’t work that way.

Bristol set the bags down that she’d been holding. “I’m sorry,” she hurried to say, wrapping her arms around Halayna and holding her tight. “That was so insensitive, and I blame starvation for my diarrhea of the mouth. We haven’t eaten since last night, and even then, it was only a small salad, and I’m famished. Still, that’s no excuse for speaking without thinking.”

Halayna tried to hug her friend back, but her heavy backpack started sliding off her shoulder.

“Here, give me that.” Bristol took the bag from her. “You shouldn’t be carrying anything that weighs this much anyway. Otherwise, your wrist is never going to heal.”

Halayna glanced at the black brace on her wrist, trying to ignore the flashbacks of the other night. Yet, they crashed through her mind the same way that car had crashed into her bicycle. She’d been in Manhattan doing a delivery run for a restaurant she worked part-time at. Then a car turned a corner practically on two wheels and struck the back tire of her bike.

A shiver ran through her body at the memory of flying through the air and landing in a pile of black plastic bags. Thankfully, a business had put its day’s trash at the curb, and the garbage collectors hadn’t done a pickup yet. Otherwise, her injuries would’ve been a lot worse than a sprained wrist. Every bone in her body had been jarred, and she had felt shattered inside and out.

That accident had been her breaking point, and Bristol happened to call while Halayna had been laid up in a hospital emergency room.

The front doors of the house opened with a flourish, snapping Halayna back to the present. A tall man with ridiculously wide shoulders, wearing a black button-down shirt and pants, stood in the doorway.

“Ms. Bristol, it’s good to see you,” he said as he moved toward them.

“Hershel! You’re here!” Bristol screeched, dropped everything she’d been holding, and took off in a run toward the man. She fell into his open arms, and they hugged one another as if they hadn’t seen each other in years.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had the summer off,” Bristol said as they both walked to where Halayna stood. “I was expecting Lily to be around, and only until we got settled in,” she said of her brother’s housekeeper.

Hershel waved her off. “I heard you were coming, and I knew I had to be here,” he said with a slight Southern accent.

He towered over Halayna’s five-foot-seven height, and now that he was closer, he appeared younger than she originally thought. His dark hair was cut neatly with a little graying around the temples. With his blemish-free, clean-shaven face and beautiful dark skin, he might’ve been in his late forties, but it was hard to tell his age. Then again, it was often hard to tell the age of Black people period. That’s how it was for her. Her mixed-race of Black and Japanese often had people telling her how she looked ten years younger than she was.

“Lanie, this is Hershel. He manages this property, but he’s more like family to me and Sloane,” she said of her brother. “Hershel, this is my best friend, Halayna Tanaka.”

“Ahh, Ms. Halayna. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Ms. Bristol has spoken highly of you through the years. Often referring to you as her sister.” He extended his hand to her, and his warm smile was on full display. “Welcome. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here.”