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* * *
As I weavedin and out of traffic, I thought of buying my first home. I imagined the style, the backyard, and the kitchen. I wanted an older home that needed work. Maybe I watched too much HGTV, but the thought of putting my stamp on a home purchase appealed to me. I loved making things beautiful; repurposing and breathing new life into spaces was my calling. As I exited the highway to Highland Park, I couldn’t help but admire the pristine sidewalks and collection of high-end boutique stores lining each side of the road. I knew the area well. I worked at a few of the stores while in college. I soon passed the busy district downtown area and started to make my way deeper into the neighborhood. This residence was farther out, in the countryside. Probably a ranch of some sort. That was not in the packet but based on the address, I could tell I had another twenty to thirty minutes of driving before getting there.
The thought of remodeling a ranch made me even more excited; I already envisioned the number of jobs I could book after this. I have a billionaire client who has billionaire friends and family that will want me to replicate the same magic for them. They will all want me to make their spaces beautiful and unique. I could not stop daydreaming about how my fortunes had changed. I could see my student loan debt paid in full, a new car, maybe an SUV. I could use the space, especially if I had billionaire clients. I needed trunk space for all the samples of luxurious fabrics, flooring samples and paint colors for my new clients to choose from.
My mind was so preoccupied I missed my turn. I finally got to the address and pulled into the long driveway. I was right; it was a ranch. I was mesmerized by the manicured lawn, the horses, and the stables that were both bigger than my high school football stadium. The drive into the main residence was so long that I almost got lost again. The cobblestone driveway was home to five very expensive cars. I wasn’t sure what year or model they were, but they looked like just one car was the cost of my entire student loan debt. I parked my beat-up Buick at the end of the driveway, away from all the other cars, and walked to the front door. I was about to ring the doorbell when the door swung open. Two men in tacky black suits stepped out. I could sense some tension, but nobody spoke, so I couldn’t tell what was happening.
They pushed past me as if I didn't exist and kept walking towards the driveway. The tall blond hair man that stood at the door gave me a questioning look. I quickly introduced myself, “Hi, I’m Samantha Walker, and I’m here to complete the remodel on a few spaces for you.” His demeanor quickly changed, and he waved me in with his right hand.
“I am so glad you could start so quickly,” he said. “Let me give you a quick tour. Do you need to take pictures?”
“Thank you, and no, I just need some measurements today. I also wanted to look at the current decor so I can match my ideas to the style of the home.”
“Okay. I’m Brandon Walker, the estate manager. Right, this way.” Brandon was young and handsome; he was muscular and about 6’ tall. His brown eyes were piercing and his smile inviting.
As we walked through the grand archways in the kitchen and dining room and examined the marble floors in the residence, I could not help but wonder why on earth they wanted to change anything.
The massive ranch had new appliances, and the décor professionally arranged to showcase the expensive furniture that looked like pieces of art in each room. I was taking notes and measurements when Mr. Brooks walked up. His chiseled jaw and icy blue eyes caught me by surprise. He was tall and had a full head of brown hair, his shoulders seemed as if they wanted to be free from his polo shirt and I could see his thigh muscle bulging through his well-fitted slacks. I must have been daydreaming and staring because his annoyed response jolted me back to reality.
“What are you looking at?!”
I quickly looked away and apologized.
He turned to Brandon. “Who is this?”
“Mr. Brooks, this is Samantha Walker. She’s here to start the renovations on the kitchen, master bedroom, and the—a”
The arrogant prick cut him off: “I don’t give a fuck. Just keep her out of my way. I have enough shit going on right now.” He gave me a hard stare and stormed off.
That wouldn’t be the first time I wondered if I had made a mistake taking this job.
CHAPTER 3
CHRISTOPHER
My new reality is waking up at two a.m. every morning from night terrors, my thin white t-shirt drenched in sweat, and my boxers clinching to my legs. It’s been two months since my wife passed away, and I am in turmoil. My dreams are filled with memories of her lifeless body at the crash but it makes no sense. I was never at the crash site.
“Daddy?”
That was the sound of my five-year-old daughter Natasha, she is a splitting image of Victoria. Here piercing green eyes, jet-black long hair, high cheekbones, and a thin frame. “Hey sweetheart, you can’t sleep either?”
“No, I think there is a monster under my bed.”
I usually went through the ritual of checking under the bed and inside the closet before sending her back to her room, but I secretly wanted the company. Natasha reminded me of Victoria, and I miss her. Sometimes my heart broke just thinking about her, and I would take anything that could help ease my pain, even my grief-stricken daughter’s poor excuses to avoid her own pain. We are going to therapy sessions once a week and while I knew allowing her to avoid her room was not a good idea, I didn’t care. She was the only thing that helped me through the day. And the night; I needed her close to me to keep the nightmares away.
* * *
I was sittingin my study, going over some documents my lawyer sent over. He needed signatures for our newest acquisition. It had been two months since we closed the deal, and everyone was waiting on me to sign to make everything final. My regular routine included going into my corporate office in downtown Dallas five to six days a week. I was very active in the day-to-day operations but after Victoria died, I decided to take some well-needed time to take care of my daughter. Despite having a large staff at the residence, we never had a nanny for Natasha. Victoria was a full-time mom and after everything Natasha has been through, I felt I needed to stay close to her.
If I decided to go back to the office, I had another option for child care. My Aunt Helen volunteered to help with Natasha after Victoria passed. She is my mother’s younger sister and will be a great addition to the team. I still remember visiting Aunt Helen as a child. She was always kind and welcoming.
Stepping away from Brooks Energy was easy. I was so broken that I could barely make it out of bed most mornings. I started going to counseling sessions with Natasha; I had to take care of the last thing I had left of our family. I am still in awe of my beautiful baby girl’s strength. I am unsure how she copes with losing her mother at such a young age. Just thinking about it breaks my heart. I am constantly plagued with guilt. I was supposed to be the protector of our family, but I was not there to protect Victoria.
It’s seventy degrees outside, and spring is setting in. I can see the lilies peeking through the earth. Victoria loved lilies. I was about to fall back into a good old-fashioned pity party when Brandon walked in.
“Mr. Brooks, two detectives are at the door to see you.”
“Detectives? What the hell do they want with me?”
