For Angelo(5)

Someone tapped her from behind.

—ended up jumping three feet in the air.

Lane spun around.

A guy in a suit was standing behind her, looking harried. “Lane Petersen?”

She didn’t answer, suspicious and wary.

“You are Lane Petersen, right? Ms. Mortimer wanted me to give you this.” He handed her an envelope.

A letter?

She accepted it with suddenly trembling hands, and the trembling only worsened as she opened the envelope and took out the note inside it.





Dear Ms. Petersen,

Forgive my lapse of judgment, but also allow me a moment to speak the unvarnished truth with you. I’m just about the most cynical and selfish woman in the world. I don’t do affection and I don’t even like rainbows or the Care Bears.

If, after knowing this, you still think I’m a good fit, then it would be my honor to represent your case and regardless of the results, I would like to give you my personal assurance that you have nothing to worry about. I will do my utmost best to ensure that you have the means to start over.

It is the least I can do for someone whose courage, naiveté – oh, sorry, I mean optimism – is an inspiration.

And if I may, I would like you to know that I think you are absolutely lucky that you had someone like Laura Petersen as a mother.

I only wish I had the privilege of meeting her in this lifetime.

Yours,

Nellie Mortimer





“Ms. Petersen?” Jeff, the paralegal sent to go after Lane Petersen, was dumbfounded when he saw the younger girl’s tear-stained face. “I w-was asked to w-wait for your reply,” he stammered uneasily, all the while thinking that the owner’s daughter, Nellie Mortimer, was really the selfish bitch everyone thought she was, to make a pro bono client cry.

But he ended up confused when the girl choked out, “Please tell Ms. Mortimer t-that she j-just made me believe in unicorns. And Care Bears.”

“Riiiiiiight.” Jeff slowly turned around as the girl behind him started laughing and crying.

Crazy girl, he thought. Maybe she was a good match for Nellie Mortimer after all.





Chapter One





Two Years Later





His laughter was the first thing Lane noticed.

It was unlike anything she had ever heard before, and she had been doing inventory when she heard it. At first, she had thought her mind was playing tricks on her. Surely no one could laugh with such shameless iniquity? Surely no one could be so blatantly wicked, so defiantly immoral?

But then she had heard it again, and Lane realized that she hadn’t imagined it at all. She looked up, heart beating madly as she scanned the sea of faces across the road. It had to be one of those students coming out of Christopoulos University, which was opposite the convenience store where she worked.

But try as she might, none of the guys she saw seemed to fit the bill. None of them seemed to be powerful or strong enough to sound like a fallen angel, laughing so beautifully even in the face of eternal damnation.

Oh, if Nellie could hear me now, Lane thought absently as she scrutinized the men’s faces. The thought made her smile and wince at the same time. Nellie would probably threaten to hit her on the head for being so foolishly romantic.

Moments passed, and hope started to fade. She turned away, thinking that maybe tomorrow would be better—

And that was when she heard it again, this time so, so close it was almost like he was right behind her—

Wait, what if he was right behind her?

Lane whirled around so fast she lost her balance, and she fell flat on her butt with a tiny cry.

A shadow fell over her world, and then she found herself staring straight into a pair of silvery gray eyes.

Almost like a fallen angel, she thought dazedly, dropping from the sky.

“Are you okay?” His voice was faintly accented. Italian, she guessed dizzily as she took the hand offered to her. It was warm and electrifying, and the shock of it had Lane stiffening.

“Just static electricity,” the stranger said easily as he released her hand.

No, Lane thought, even more dazed now. It wasn’t. But she was too much in awe to argue. On her feet, she found him even taller than he appeared initially. Slowly, her gaze met his eyes again, and this time Lane took the rest of him in. This time, it finally dawned on her just how beautiful the man before her was.

Words like ‘handsome’ and ‘good-looking’ wouldn’t cut it.

He was beautiful.

It was the only way to describe him.

It was also one thing she was not.

She suddenly remembered how she looked. Hair twisted up in a careless bun, her old pair of eyeglasses perched on her too-small nose, her face without a touch of makeup.

She also remembered what she had been and what she was supposed to be doing. She was in the middle of inventory for deliveries, and she was dressed for it, too, a faded apron over her shirt and jeans.