Laura
"Ma'am, you have a call," Henry said, stretching the phone toward me.
"Thanks," I replied, taking it from him. I glanced at the caller ID. It was Shawn.
I answered quickly. "Hello, baby," I said, just loud enough for Lorenzo to hear.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stiffen. His jaw clenched, and his expression darkened. He glanced at me with one eyebrow arched, as though he couldn't quite believe his ears.
"I'm just leaving the company now. You can pick me up for the date at eight, baby," I continued, forcing a bright smile. "I love you. Bye."
Lorenzo cleared his throat, deliberately avoiding my gaze.
"Ms. Roberts, are you dating someone else?" a reporter blurted out. "Have you completely moved on? Weren't you madly in love with Mr. Lorenzo?"
I steadied myself. "Lorenzo is my past."
"Laura—"
"Ms. Roberts," I cut in firmly.
His voice cracked with regret. "I'm sorry for what happened five years ago. Give me another chance. I'll make things right this time. I need you back in my life."
I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin, meeting his eyes without flinching. "I have to go. I really don't want to miss my date," I said with a defiant smile. Then I turned to the press cameras. "And to everyone watching—there's an old saying: you never realize what you have until you lose it."
Lorenzo's face twisted in visible hurt. I slid into my car.
"Please, Laura, hear me out," he pleaded, his tone low, almost begging.
I drew in a deep breath and told the driver, "Get me out of here."
---
An hour later, I stood in front of my mirror, adjusting my black fitted sleeveless dress sprinkled with delicate diamond accents. The reflection staring back at me looked every bit as dazzling as I needed to appear tonight.
"You look perfect, ma'am," Fiona, my makeup artist and hairstylist, said with a satisfied smile.
"Thank you," I murmured, returning it.
A guard entered the room. "Mr. Shawn is here, ma'am."
I nodded, grabbed my silver purse, and slipped out. Before heading downstairs, I peeked into the kids' room. Luke and Lena were curled up beside Nanny Kate, eyes wide as she read their favorite story. My heart softened. I closed the door quietly.
Downstairs, Dad sat on the couch, reading.
"Hi, Dad," I said softly.
He looked up, his eyes warming. "My beautiful damsel," he said, standing to embrace me. "You look… absolutely stunning."
I giggled and hugged him back. "Thanks, Dad."
"Now don't keep that young man waiting," he teased. "Enjoy your night."
"I will," I promised, smiling.
Outside, Shawn leaned against his sleek car, a bouquet of roses in hand. His presence alone made the night air heavier.
I walked down the steps. "Did you send me flowers earlier today?"
"No," he replied, voice husky. He extended the bouquet. "These are from me. Mr. Roberts mentioned they're your favorite."
I hesitated. They used to be, before the divorce dulled everything. Still, I accepted them with a faint smile. "Thanks."
He was impossible not to admire. Usually, he favored blue suits, but tonight he wore a black shirt with the top buttons undone, paired with fitted trousers. His chest peeked through, his midnight hair slick and slightly longer than usual, still damp. He smelled intoxicating. Sexy. Dangerous.
His green eyes locked with mine.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "So flawless. Truly a charm."
"You're flattering me, Shawn," I teased, though my voice betrayed me.
"I swear I'm not."
"You look great too," I admitted.
He grinned, opening the car door. "Please, get in, my lady."
"Shawn…" I said shyly as I slid into the seat.
He only smiled and drove us to a luxury hotel.
Inside, a hostess greeted us warmly. "Mr. Shawn, Ms. Roberts. This way, please. Your reservation is ready."
She led us into a private, breathtakingly arranged room—dim lights, rose petals scattered across the floor and table, wine chilling nearby, and a small dance floor.
"This is… too much," I murmured, overwhelmed.
"You deserve more," Shawn said, taking my hand.
The hostess beamed. "I hope you enjoy it. Have a wonderful evening." She slipped out.
Shawn pulled out my chair. I sat, and he joined me.
"I feel so lucky," I began to say.
"It's not luck, Laura. It's work. You fought for this life. Every bit of it."
"I'm starving," I admitted quickly, changing the subject. I hadn't eaten all day.
The waiter appeared with menus. "For the lovely couple—"
I laughed. "We're not a couple."
"Oh, my apologies. I assumed you were married," the waiter said, embarrassed.
We ordered and ate, conversation flowing easily.
Then Shawn stood, extending a hand. "Care to dance?"
"I can't dance," I protested. "Never could."
"You haven't tried with me yet."
"Trust me, I deserve an award for being the worst dancer in all of Atlanta Bergen."
His laugh rang out, infectious, making me laugh with him.
"Luckily, I'm a great dancer," he said, still chuckling. "So let me teach you."
I took his hand, and we swayed to the soft rhythm of a love song.
"You called me baby earlier today," he murmured.
My jaw dropped. "Um… Lorenzo showed up."
Shawn stiffened. "He did?"
I nodded. "I didn't tell you. I didn't want to worry you."
"You know if I'd seen him, I'd punched him so hard in the face. Did he do anything to hurt you? I'd never let him get away with it if he upset you," Shawn muttered, his voice edged with anger.
I laughed lightly. "Relax. He didn't do anything to hurt me."
"What did he want?"
"He wanted me to listen. Said he wants us back together. He wants us to remarry."
"After what he did?" Shawn's eyes burned. "Who the hell does he think he is?"
A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it. "I never thought I'd see him again—let alone hear him say he wants me back."
Shawn cupped my face, gently brushing my tears away. "He doesn't deserve your tears, Laura. You've moved on. You're stronger, admired. And I'd never let anyone hurt you again." He kissed the back of my hand with reverence.
"I'm fine," I whispered. "Lorenzo is my past."
His gaze deepened. "Do you still love him?"
I bit my lip, rose on my toes, and whispered, "No, I don't. Do anything… anything that can take my mind off him… I just don't want to—"
His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me close. His lips captured mine with urgency, his tongue tangling with mine. His knee pressed between mine, our bodies flush. My hands roamed his hair, his chest, his warmth.
"The only thing I could think of," he whispered against my lips. "I've always wanted to do this, to be fair."
I heard the thundering of his heart. For a moment, I let him erase Lorenzo from my mind. But deep down, I knew it'd take a lot to erase Lorenzo from my mind.
I pulled back, kissing him once more before whispering, "Take me home."
---
At home, I went straight to the kids' room. I opened the door quietly. "Hey, Kate, are they asleep—"
"Mummy!" Luke and Lena squealed in unison, tumbling out of bed and into my arms.
Kate gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry, ma'am. They refused to sleep. They insisted they had something important to tell you."
My stomach tightened. I knelt to their level. "What is it, darlings? Couldn't it wait until morning?"
They exchanged a look that made me tense.
"Did I do something wrong?" I asked.
"No, Mommy," Lena said with a grin.
"Then what is it?"
"Do you know Uncle Lorenzo?" Luke asked innocently.
The blood drained from my face. "Where did you hear that name?"
"We met him today at school," Lena said matter-of-factly, folding her little arms.
"He came to pick up his daughter, and he made friends with us. He's really nice."
His… daughter? Oh, wow. So, he had a daughter and still had the audacity to talk about remarrying me?
"He looks like me. And he said Lena reminds him of someone," Luke added.
My pulse raced. Did he already know? Did he suspect?
"Of who?" I asked, my voice barely steady, fear crawling through me.