Forever Your Concierge

  FOREVER YOUR CONCIERGE

  BY JESSICA INGRO

  Published by Jessica Ingro

  Copyright© 2014 Jessica Ingro

  Cover design© Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs

  Edited by Kathy Krick

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebookmay not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  Dedication

  For B.K.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Prologue

  So you think you know the story of how we got our happy ending? Well, you don't.

  Just because Travis and I are sitting at our son's first birthday party at our friends, Elizabeth and Grant's house, surrounded by loved ones, content in our lives and happily in love, doesn't mean we were always that way.

  What started off as a fairytale, became a struggle. A struggle to make our marriage work, a struggle to trust, and a struggle to let go of the past.

  There were lies. There was jealousy. There was envy. And there were secrets that lurked behind our closed doors.

  As I picked my giggling son up and snuggled him to my chest, I said a silent prayer that we made it through. That the past didn't get to dictate our future.

  My favorite quote from Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, says it all: "People tend to think that happiness is a stroke of luck, something that will descend like fine weather if you are fortunate. But happiness is the result of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly."

  I now know how important it is to avidly participate in our happiness. Lesson learned, it's not something I'll ever take for granted again.

  Chapter One

  Three years earlier...

  Everything surrounding me was so luxurious, I couldn't believe this was my life—sitting in a swank hotel suite, wrapped up in a plush robe, sipping the finest champagne the hotel had to offer, surrounded by my closest friends and family while being pampered by a Swedish woman.

  I never thought I'd be here. The dream of finding a sexy man who loved me, shared similar interests and protected me had flown out the window all those years ago when I was young and naïve, just trying to make it in the New York City acting scene. Back when I learned that most people are not what they seem and that pinning your hopes and dreams on a man most assuredly led to complete heartache.

  God, I was so stupid back then. Although, some might say I was just as stupid now.

  "Thank heavens Paul McKinley was such a selfish prick that you left his house and went in search of some liquid refreshment. Otherwise, you and Travis might not have fallen in lurve," Elizabeth Morgan teased, breaking me from my silent lamenting. Elizabeth was my best friend and closest confidante. She would hate me if she knew everything I was hiding from her. I couldn't stand the look that would surely form on her face when she found out the horrible thing I had done and the equally horrible thing that I was about to do.

  "Lurve? What are we? Twelve, E?" I rolled my eyes but gave her a smile to let her know I wasn't really upset.

  "Tell me again what it was like meeting that hunk," my younger sister, Kayla, chimed in. She practically had hearts in her eyes. Being the romantic of the family, she believed in true love, soul mates and fate, which made what I was going to do to her later at the rehearsal dinner all the more worse. Sometimes the fact that she wanted to be an actress and was following in my footsteps made me cringe. The person she thought was her soul mate was nothing but a deviant prick who only cared about himself.

  I shook my head and vowed not to think about that now but rather focus on the wonderful present my soon-to-be husband had surprised me with—an all-inclusive, private spa visit at the resort in Upstate New York where we were to be married tomorrow.

  "Yeah. I don't think I ever heard that story," my older sister, Barb, added as she sat back in her chair and sipped champagne while a woman buffed and polished her toes.

  "It isn't like some fairytale. It's actually pretty mundane and boring." I played down the moment I looked deep into the eyes of my future.

  "Why don't you let us be the judge of that," my mother proceeded to decree.

  With nothing to do, I launched into the story of the night I realized I had found what I was looking for all this time.

  * * *

  I stormed into the bar and slammed my purse on the bar top harder than was necessary. The purple haired bartender with blue eyes rimmed in heavy dark liner sneered at me for several seconds.

  What a nice bartender, I thought.

  Normally, I'd sneer back, but I needed a drink to wash away the last three hours of my life. Stat.

  "I need a double shot of tequila. Please," I added as an afterthought.

  Without a word she turned away from me and set about making my shot.

  I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. Being this worked up was doing me no good. After I took a shot to soothe my frayed nerves, I would go home and sink into a bubble bath with my favorite toy, imagine Henry Cavill was naked in the tub with me, and then take care of what my lousy date started.

  The few times I had interacted with Paul McKinley, I never would have suspected he was so unbelievably self-centered. He was one of our more mundane clients. He was always quick to put you at ease and make you smile. He never went all male diva on me or Elizabeth. Tonight had been more than enough proof that I had misread him.

  The date had started off well enough. He picked me up at my apartment in Greenwich Village and politely told me how beautiful I looked in my green satin dress that clung to every curve my momma gave me. Although his words were polite, in his eyes, I saw a hunger strong enough to make my insides clench in anticipation.

  I knew from walking in on him in the shower that he was well endowed and quick to rise to the challenge. I had sincerely hoped that translated to him knowing how to please a woman into the wee hours of the morning.

  It had been way too long for me. I needed it—the erotic glide of sweat slicked bodies moving against each other. The feel of a man's breath as it mingled with mine in the heat of passion. The delicious tightening of muscles as a climax rocked your body.

  A shiver worked up my spine at the images I was
conjuring up. I needed the bartender to hurry up with my tequila so I could get out of there and relieve the aching between my thighs. Especially since Paul ended up being less than stellar in the women pleasing department. He gave new meaning to the word selfish. There had been no chance in hell I'd get off with the way he hurried through foreplay before pounding into me like a jack rabbit on speed. Not quite a three pump chump, he was a close second.

  "Excuse me," a deep, smooth voice said behind me. I turned around and stared into the most beautiful indigo eyes I had ever seen. "Aren't you Maya Harris?"

  "Do I know you?" My eyes narrowed, thinking he looked familiar but not able to put my finger on how.

  "Travis Hamilton." He extended his hand to me, which I took tentatively. "Your friend, Elizabeth is my personal concierge." And just like that it all clicked into place. Travis' New Year's Eve party that I hadn't attended but helped Elizabeth organize.

  I had seen Travis once or twice over the last year or so that I had been helping Elizabeth in her concierge business but never paid much attention to him. Now that he was close enough to smell—and I had to note that he did in fact smell like heaven on earth—I couldn't help but notice him. He was hands down the most gorgeous man I had ever seen before. He looked like a blue eyed Adonis with his dark hair and hard body encased in gray wool trousers and a dark blue dress shirt with the top few buttons open.

  Releasing his hand, I took a step back and tucked my brown hair behind my ear nervously. "It's nice to meet you, Travis."

  Just then the girl slammed a shot glass down and poured the tequila. I reached into my bag to pull out some cash to pay her, but Travis stopped my hand, giving the girl a fifty dollar bill. "Can you add a Sam Adam's to that order?"

  She blinked up at him—once, twice, three times—before taking his money and ringing out the two drinks. When she tried to give him back his change, he shook his head and gave her a panty-melting smile. "Keep the change, honey."

  The girl's face inflamed and she scurried off to get his drink. Such a direct contrast to the less than warm welcome she gave me.

  I picked my shot up and downed it in one gulp, letting the delicious heat burn through my body. "Thanks for that." I saluted him with the empty glass before placing it back on the bar.

  "It's my pleasure. I must admit though I had ulterior motives in buying it for you." He shoved his hands in his front pockets and looked at me sheepishly. It was endearing and so unlike the confident aura he had previously been putting off.

  "And what motive is that?" I cocked my head and tried to look nonchalant but butterflies were beating their wings rapidly inside my stomach as I stared at his handsome face. How could a perfect stranger affect me so?

  "I'd hoped that you would join me." He gestured towards a table in the back corner of the room. His blue eyes sparkled as he waited for my answer.

  I pretended to think on it for a few moments, secretly thrilling in how unsure he started to look at the prospect of me saying no. Maybe what ended up being a night from hell could be salvaged by spending time with a man as fine as Travis.

  "Sure. Under one condition."

  "Shoot." He picked up his beer and took a healthy sip. His corded throat muscles worked to swallow, and I found myself entranced by the erotic sight. Good lord how did he look so scrumptious just drinking?

  "I need another one of those." I nodded towards my empty shot glass before pointing at his beer. "And definitely one of those."

  His resulting smile was brilliant and filled with promise. "You drive a hard bargain, but I have a feeling I'd give into just about any deal you offered my way. Why don't you go sit down and I'll bring your drinks over."

  I smiled back and headed towards the table he pointed out earlier. The bar around the corner from Paul's condo was slow considering it was a weekday but being in New York City meant it was never empty. I settled into a wooden seat and watched as Travis spoke to the bartender and waited for our drinks. He was such a damn fine specimen of a man. Even more handsome than Paul. I wondered if he would give a girl better lovin' than I had experienced earlier that night.

  I mentally kicked myself for letting my mind go there. I was fresh from one man's bed and fantasizing about another. That had to be the exact definition of a slut. Maybe another time and place I'd be able to explore those emotions. Tonight they were definitely off limits.

  Travis joined me at the small, circular table with our drinks. I clinked my shot glass to his beer bottle and downed it.

  "So, what brings you out tonight? Alone?" Travis asked.

  "Date from hell," I grumbled.

  "I know how that goes. I won't even ask about it." He gave me a knowing smile and I just knew that he felt my pain. It was good to know that even seemingly perfect people had a rough go of it in the dating world.

  "Good call. It's so hard being single in this city. All the bad dates and horrible setups really get exhausting. You would think with the number of eligible people it would be just the opposite, but it seems like all the good ones are hiding."

  "I don't know about that. Maybe one is right in front of your face." He gave me a devilish smirk with a wink before picking up his bottle and taking a sip.

  Tongue tied I couldn't find a good rebuttal for that. I mean, was he flirting with me? He had to be. The way he phrased it couldn't have been a general observation. If his goal was to get me thinking that he could be a good one to latch onto, he was successful. Those butterflies in my stomach sped up their wing beating at the idea.

  "How long have you worked with Lizzie?" He thankfully changed the subject saving me from having to address his statement.

  "Lizzie?"

  "Elizabeth. It's a nickname I gave her a long time ago."

  "Ahhh. I've known E since college. My aunt, Collette, was actually her first client I guess you could say. I've helped her on and off for a few years, but the work has been pretty constant for the last year. I handle her less... influential clients."

  "E? I like that... it's cute. You know? I couldn't imagine the things you see being in that line of work. Lizzie has carte blanche access to my home and most aspects of my life. I'm sure she's found out a thing or two about me that makes her think I have issues, and I'm probably one of her more boring clients," he noted.

  He was right about that. E and I had plenty of "story times" where we discussed some of her outrageous clients with their absurd requests, and thankfully Travis had never been one of them. It would have been a down right shame if he was. A complete and utter turnoff.

  "There are some more... interesting characters," I concurred.

  He chuckled at that and the sound was a potent aphrodisiac. "That was a very PC way of putting it."

  "That's me. Miss Discretion," I joked. "So now that you know all about my history working for E, what is it that you do?"

  "Investment banker. It's dreadfully boring," he deadpanned.

  "It must serve you well judging from your penthouse apartment on Park Avenue. Not that it's any of my business," I quickly added when his face darkened. Sometimes I spoke without truly thinking about what I was saying. Stupid, stupid mouth.

  He sighed and took another sip of his beer. "Look, I know it's no secret I come from money. That's what you were getting at, right?" He bit out defensively.

  "Hey, I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have mentioned it. I was just commenting on how nice your place was when I helped with your New Year's party. I didn't mean anything by it. I don't care about your money. Pretend I never mentioned it."

  He reached out and enveloped my hand in his. "Sorry to be so defensive. It's just that I'm so used to women immediately wanting to know the size of my bank account and not really caring about me as a person."

  I swallowed hard at the electricity zinging through my body from his touch. Was it suddenly really warm in here?

  "Why don't we try a different topic, something safer?" I suggested.

  He gifted me a beautiful smile and nodded. "Good idea. Let's talk about the
play I saw you in a couple of years ago?"

  "What?" I sputtered and choked on my drink. That wasn't exactly where I thought the conversation would be going.

  "It was Chicago. The way you sang 'All That Jazz' was amazing. I'd never forget your face after that performance. You were that spectacular." His eyes were sparkling with the memory, but I couldn't pay attention to that because I was on the edge of freaking out.

  "I didn't realize you knew about that." I ignored the pain piercing my chest at the memory of my short stint as Velma Kelly in the off Broadway show Chicago. That was when I got caught up with him. My stomach churned at the thought of my time with the director and how broken he left me afterward. It was the last time I acted, deciding to focus on helping Elizabeth instead.

  "Sweetheart, you were phenomenal. Every man in that theater couldn't keep their eyes off you. It was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen. Are you still acting?"

  "No," I bit out.

  "How come you stopped?" He asked, completely ignoring the fact that I seemed less than thrilled to be having this conversation.

  "I don't want to talk about it." I downed the last of my beer and made to stand up. "It was really great of you to buy me a drink. I'll see you around."

  "Wait." He grabbed my hand and pulled me back towards him. "Please don't leave. We don't have to talk about it. I shouldn't have been so pushy."

  I sighed and bit my lip. It wasn't his fault it was such a sore subject. I nodded and sat back down. He gave me a timid smile when I did.

  "Since that's off topic, why don't you tell me about your family. Where'd you grow up?"

  "I have an older sister, Barb, and a younger sister, Kayla. I grew up in the Hamptons. My father is a doctor and my mother is a real estate agent here in the city. What about you?"

  "My father was a banker, his father was a banker, his father's father was a banker..." He trailed off and smirked. "See the pattern?"

  "It's an honest living," I noted casually. "So you followed in your ancestors footsteps?"