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## CONQUERED

A Billionaire's Deal

By:

Amanda Horton

# Chapter One

#

The girl crouched by the wall was wearing a flamboyant red sweater. With arms wrapped around her abdomen, her sweaty face flinched as pain flashed sporadically between her legs. In between bouts, she lit a half-smoked Marlboro, holding the stick delicately between trembling fingers, blowing the smoke into the air above her head. Her straggly hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, emphasizing the gaunt lines of her face.

Noelle Mancini spotted her as she turned the corner leading to Eats Well, the delicatessen she owned in Queens, NY. The first blush of dawn struggled with remnants from the night sky, and like a silent siren, New York's unwashed denizens responded to the call. The scene was familiar to Noelle. A week didn't pass by that she didn't find a drunken tramp, bag lady, or a street urchin just outside her door. They didn't cause any trouble; just needed a warm cup of coffee or a sandwich she could spare. Anything always tasted better on an empty stomach.

"Hey," Noelle called cheerily. "I have a turkey sandwich with your name on it," she said, grappling with a set of keys to open the café entrance.

The girl looked at her in surprise, hesitated, then backed away, ready to flee.

"Come in," Noelle encouraged, surprised at her hesitation.

Her surprise turned into alarm as the girl doubled over and fell to her knees. It was then that Noelle noticed the red stain seeping through the girl's crotch and pants.

"Are you alright?" Noelle asked with concern, rushing towards the stooped form.

"Please...please, don't call the police," the girl replied in a panicked whisper.

"Are you in some kind of trouble?" Noelle asked.

"No. I haven't done anything wrong. I-I just had an abortion... a bad one."

Noelle at once knew what was happening. Illegal abortions were usually done in the seedier parts of the city without proper hygiene and post-care. Women entered and left like they had just gotten a manicure. But this girl was in bad shape. Her ashen face may have been a result of too much bleeding.

"I promise I won't call the police. Just come inside and let me help you," Noelle entreated.

The girl staggered back to her feet, then swayed slightly. Noelle placed an arm around her waist and half-carried her inside.

"I have a bed in the back office," Noelle said, as she huffed with strain from the girl's weight.

They traversed the front of the store, down a narrow hallway, and into the back. Noelle deposited her gently down onto the bed. The girl grimaced in agony as another wave of pain hit her.

"I'll be fine. The doctor said to expect some cramping. That's all this is, really."

Noelle was curious about the girl and where she came from. But now wasn't the right time. She needed to get her off her feet immediately. Noelle hoped that the doctor was right, and the bleeding was only a side effect. If things didn't improve in the next thirty minutes, she could then decide what to do next. She fervently hoped it wouldn't be too late.

"I have some overnight pads and a clean set of clothes by the drawer. You can use them. In the meantime, can you at least tell me your name?"

The girl looked up at her. Indecision was clearly written on her face. Then she mumbled softly, "My name is Miranda..."

***

Noelle looked around the 1800 sq. ft of her little kingdom and whispered a prayer of thanks. The coffee machine was spotless, the sandwich prep table was clean, and the chrome on the pastry case and sandwich display cases were gleaming. She had paid for all the equipment, all thanks to her hard work and determination to succeed. The cheap rent, plus a constant flow of changing demographics with her customers added up to culinary gold and an assurance that there will always be hungry regulars to feed. The café was doing well, and it provided her with a semblance of a normal life.

A stab of fear ran through her heart. The thought was always at the back of her mind, and it was like summoning bad juju. Not wanting something terrible to come, but knowing that eventually, it will.

The letter came today.

It was from the Immigration Office, reminding her that her work visa was about to expire; in thirty days, to be exact. The letter was electronically generated and impersonal, but it had enough to fill her with dread.

Her application for adjustment of status was still pending, and her work permit was based on the sponsorship of her Afro- American mother who passed away before the proper documents could be filed. If she didn't get the adjustment status soon, there was no way she could apply for another work permit and continue running the café. It was a tedious process, and Noelle knew that the clock was ticking.

The possibility of being deported, together with her son, was something she greatly feared. Going back to Italy was not an option. She had no family there, having lost contact with her dad when she was just a child. Besides, she had put so much of herself into this little café that it was now a part of her. It had amassed a constant stream of regulars by now.

Sometimes the desire to lash out at the memory of her mother assailed her. Why didn't she accomplish the legalities of what needed fixing during the years Noelle was growing up? Instead, she wallowed in sadness because her marriage to Noelle's Italian father didn't work out. All her life, she kept saying that they would go back to Italy and work things out with her dad. That day never came.

Meanwhile, Nikko, her son, was starting kindergarten. They were still engaged in the constant battle of tears and separation anxiety. Her daily promise to be "right here at the gate when you come out of school" didn't always work. The long hours she had to put into running the café still provoked tantrums from her child. And it was all part and parcel of the day-to-day tribulations of being a single mom.

Noelle shrugged the thought aside. There was work to do. In a few hours, a hungry crowd, expecting their usual orders, would come trooping through her doorway. She hoped that Miranda, the sick girl at the back, was only a temporary problem. She had been sleeping soundly when Noelle left her, and even though she wondered what Miranda's story was, she decided to attend to her later.

She checked her inventory of sandwiches inside the refrigerated cooler and made a mental note to stock up on the French ham and cheese sandwiches, which were always crowd-pleasers. The countertop condiments needed to be filled with salad greens, onions, and tomatoes, and Noelle realized that she had a lot of slicing and dicing to do.

She reached for a deep metal mixing bowl, heaved a small sack of flour with her other hand, and headed towards the preparation table.

"Eggs, I need eggs... and where did I leave the olive oil," she muttered as she headed to the kitchen at the back. She found what she was looking for and gathered all the ingredients for making bread. Her Italian blood dictated that she make them from scratch and not settle for the ready-to-eat kind found in the supermarket.

Working with her hands always calmed her. And Noelle loved to bake, a trait she may have inherited from the Italian side of the family even though she had never really met any of them.

***

Eighty-three miles away, in an extraordinary residence sitting on ten acres of land, the light of the dawn had triumphed. An oceanfront estate, regarded by many as the finest in all the Hamptons, stood like a silent sentinel. A series of decks and patios led to the red dunes and onto a private, sandy beach. Two custom-made swimming pools and a sunken all-weather tennis court were invisible from the highway, hidden by strategically hedged lawns.

Inside the master's bedroom, a double king-sized bed dominated the space, while glass windows leading to the patio provided an unobstructed view of the ocean and the ceaseless waves. A solitary figure stood on the patio, unmindful of the chilly wind on his naked body. Security cameras that were manned on an 8-hour basis guaranteed complete privacy. The security personnel was paid well to understand that discretion was a value topping the list of their job requirements.

The master of the house stared out into the ocean, the breeze gently ruffling his hair. He missed the long mane he used to have but admitted that this current look added character to his personality. It was a concession he made to the committee - one of many.

Hunter Blackwell was a man who answered to no one, except to his dad, whom he idolized. Blackwell Senior was a self-made man who hardly finished high school but possessed a keen sense of perception that made everything he touched turn into gold. With an initial investment of $100, he made his first big profit and earned half a million in the stock market. He then decided to try his luck in a stock-trading firm with an investment career and proceeded to quintuple his net worth as he adhered to a philosophy of long-term value investing. His next move then caught his associates by surprise when he invested all his wealth into the mining sector. That bold move made him one of the richest men in America under the age of forty.

His only son and heir, Hunter, took over the reins of the family fortune after finishing a master's in finance from Harvard University. The business acumen of the older man was passed on to the equally brilliant son who took risks that lesser mortals would never even consider. Hunter diversified into electronics, shipping, real estate, hotel industry, and other businesses.

Money can buy you material happiness. But only in serving people can you ever experience true self–fulfillment.

The memory of that mantra that his dad used to say was especially more poignant today while Hunter stared out into the blue beyond. As a young boy, when his dad would bring him to school, they passed by tenement houses and saw other boys his age out in the streets.

"Why aren't they in school, Dad?"

"I guess school doesn't work for them, son."

"Why?'

"Maybe just being out on the street makes them happy."

"School makes them sad?"

"Maybe. Or they find school boring."

"When I grow up, I will make school exciting for everyone so that every kid would want to go."

The old man looked fondly at the solemn boy and replied, "Yes, you do that, son."

Running for senator was the beginning of Hunter's journey towards self-fulfillment. He had a vision of the change that he wanted. But it wasn't easy; he realized that now.

Last night, he had to summon every ounce of restraint not to tell all of them to go to hell. He wanted to walk out of the meeting and shut the door in their faces. But he exercised even more restraint on his temper because he wanted that nomination more than anything else in the world.

Hunter knew they meant well. To the world, he was the epitome of confidence and cockiness. He exuded power because he had earned it. But deep inside, he was sensitive when it came to his private life, even if that side of him was constant fodder for gossip in the media. A string of celebrity girlfriends, wild partying, his luxurious homes, the fleet of cars, even his Gulfstream jet – they all made the news.

He wondered what the old stiffs would think, seeing him stand boldly naked on the patio of his home.

Or the blonde sleeping on his bed? Shit.

He couldn't even remember her name. A tinge of disgust sprouted in the pit of his stomach. He didn't give a fuck what they thought. The juvenile side of him blamed them for the presence of the blonde in his bed.

Last night, he needed to release the frustration that had sprung out of him after being told to change his lifestyle and settle down... if he wanted to run for senator.

That was the reason he stopped by the bar on his way home. Their eyes met as he ordered his whiskey, and the rest of the night was predictable from that time on.

Hunter sighed.

Usually, sex managed to invigorate him, which made him feel alive and ready to meet any challenge. But now he felt like he was just a ball of energy, waiting to explode.

Maybe the older men were right. He needed to change something in his life. After all, random sex with strange women simply confirmed what the council thought. And what could be more random than not even remembering the name of the girl he had just slept with hours before?

He crept back silently into the room, not wanting to rouse the sleeping girl. His team would know what to do when she woke up. He put on a pair of jeans and slipped both feet into a pair of sneakers. Pulling a white shirt from the pile in his closet, he grabbed the key of the Audi and tiptoed out of the room.

# Chapter Two

#

The morning breeze felt good on his face. It cleared the cobwebs of frustration stemming from his memory of the council's rebuff. He inhaled stubbornly. It was an obstacle he would conquer his own way.

He stepped on the pedal and sensed the car obey his every command. Being in control was more like it. He relished the sensation. The hum of the powerful engine was like a balm that soothed his soul. He had no particular destination in mind, just a strong urge to get away. He had no idea how long he was driving until he recognized the familiar landmarks of Queens.

Hunter glanced at his watch. It was much too early to find a decent place to have breakfast. He waited for the traffic light to turn green and turned left on the next block. He saw that most of the stores were still closed but quickly noticed a window sign decal that said Eats Well Café and almost passed it. Hunter reversed the car and backed up slowly, certain that the door to the café was ajar.

Thanking the heavens for his luck, Hunter parked the car and stepped out into the sidewalk. The café was small by city standards, but it was open, and that was all that mattered. He entered and was at once assailed by the smell of freshly baked bread.

A girl was standing by the counter with her back towards him. Her arms were moving vigorously as if she was doing a weird exercise. Then he realized that she was working on kneading some dough.

"Ahem, excuse me," Hunter cleared his throat.

No response. Was she deaf?

Then suddenly, for some strange reason, she rolled her hips from side to side. Hunter was taken aback until he noticed the earbuds. She was dancing to some music that only she could hear. Then she giggled.

Hunter smiled to himself. He didn't want to frighten her. Besides, it was pleasantly stimulating, almost erotic, the way she moved her body. He couldn't see the rest of her face, but he approved of the dark hair that cascaded to a wide shoulder and sloped down to a narrow waistline. And the sound of her soft laughter was melodious to hear.

***

Noelle swayed lightly to the music in her ears. Kenny G on saxophone never failed to brighten up her spirits. The stirring sound of the metal wind instrument came through the earbuds in clear melodic tones. If Noelle were to decide who she could marry, Kenny G would definitely top the list. She could lose herself while listening to his music that always seemed to evoke sentimental memories of a time when love came easily.

Noelle would be the first to admit that when it came to love, she sucked big time. Her first experience with love was not only traumatic, but she also considered herself lucky to have come out of it physically unscathed. The only good thing that came out of that experience was her son, Nikko. However, the emotional scars that remained since then had always stopped her from having another relationship.

She kneaded the dough, working it between her fingers as Kenny G blasted away in her ears. In her mind, sax and baking made strange bedfellows that always seemed to work. She swayed her hips to the sound, her body moving sinuously while she giggled at the image in her head.

An hour more to go until opening, and this dough was the last of its batch, so Noelle was pleased. The rest of the batch was inside the oven, and she knew, with relief, that she wouldn't run out of bread today.

Satisfied that the dough was ready, she poured extra-virgin olive oil into a baking pan and spread it all over the bottom. She then transferred the dough mix into the pan before sprinkling anise and nuts on top. Grabbing the pan, she turned around, intent on heading for the oven.

She froze in her tracks and stifled a scream. The earbuds popped out of her ears. A man was watching her, one side of his hips resting by the wall, elbow leaning casually against the counter. He broke into a grin upon seeing the look of shock on her face.

The synapses inside Noelle's brain went into overdrive as it processed information about the stranger.

First, he didn't mean her any harm. She was sure of that, even if his presence reduced her to a mute plastic dummy. And that smile. It was calculated to revive anyone in a coma. Or send one into suspended animation, precisely the state she was in now.

Second, the eyes were a darker shade of blue and almost cerulean, like the shallow part of the ocean. And right now, the look was sardonic, consistent with the smile that was almost mocking.

Third, the hair was a neutral hue of darker brown. It was styled in a comb-over, long on top and shorter at the sides, hinting at a classic look or a version that would appeal to whatever job he was in. Noelle didn't really care. She knew that she just wanted to run a hand through those luscious locks.

Fourth, he was well built. The thin V-necked tee shirt wasn't enough to hide the hint of a six-pack on that broad torso. A sprinkling of chest hair was visible from the V. Despite the fog in her brain, Noelle wondered if the chest hair followed a natural course and narrowed down to a "happy trail."

Fifth, he had long, lean legs clad in faded jeans that ended perfectly just below the ankle and continued to white sneakers with knots tied in a hip street style.

He was perfect...

And gorgeous...

And was walking towards her.

"Hello, my name is Hunter, and I didn't mean to scare you."

"How did you..." Noelle glanced at the door and realized it was open.

I must have left it open when I brought Miranda inside earlier.

She looked at him and realized that he had extended his hand in greeting. She rubbed the back of her palms on the seat of her pants and reached out to shake the proffered hand. He had a warm and firm clasp.

Noelle knew she had to take full control of her senses. She looked down on her baking pan and realized that her bread dough was starting to form air pockets.

"Uhm, I think you better pop that into the oven before it's completely ruined," the man said in a honeyed voice, although Noelle recognized a hint of mockery in the words.

"Of-of course. Err, please take a seat. You can sit anywhere. It doesn't matter. We're not really opened yet. But since you're here..."

Noelle hurried to the oven, grateful for the chance to regain her composure. She realized she was babbling. She felt like someone with an IQ of about 25 or lower. She was flustered and excited and shy all at the same time.

Noelle Mancini get a grip. What did he say his name was? Hunter? Even his name was perfect. He could hunt me in my dreams, and I wouldn't mind ...

Noelle stood in front of the oven brushing an imaginary stray hair away from her face. She was glad she hadn't bothered to put on the hairnet snood, the one that made her look like a granny sitting on the porch watching the day go by.

Then a thought struck her.

"OH, GOD! What if he is from the Safety and Food Sanitation Bureau? He could report me for not following regulations on food preparation." Noelle thought in horror.

Don't be ridiculous. Those are thin, balding, old men wearing spectacles over hook-like noses. This one is a dreamboat.

Noelle took a deep breath and gathered her resolve. She stole a glance in his direction. He had taken a seat by the window and seemed intent on his cell phone. She sighed with relief. It was enough time. She strolled casually back to the counter and donned an apron, one that had a long strap that went all the way to the back and front again, then tied it into a ribbon. She used to think it cute. Now it just looked rather silly.

Grabbing her restaurant order form, she casually strolled back to where he sat, snatching a menu along the way.

"Would you like some time to study the menu?"

He took it from her hand, flashing another deadly smile. He glanced at it, placed it down on the table, and then said, "Why don't you decide for me? I'll have coffee. Anything that's brewing will be fine."

"I-I serve Italian Sausage Heroes with peppers and onions, Fig and Prosciutto, Honey bourbon chicken, turkey apple-butter and Arugula grilled cheese, but if you want something lighter, there's tuna and...."

"Do you serve them on bread that you personally baked?"

"Y-yes."

"Then any of those mentioned sounds great."

He did something then that surprised her. He reached out and touched her face. Noelle's skin tingled as his knuckle caressed her chin.

"Flour," he announced.

Noelle was disappointed and embarrassed. Darn dough. She turned her back when he suddenly called out, "You know what would be even better?"

"A glass of juice?" she asked.

He smiled and replied, "No...if you tell me your name and join me while I eat."

Then it struck her.

Hunter was flirting with her. The idea wasn't so bad. To tell the truth, it elated her, made her feel good inside. She hadn't been out on a date in God-knows-how-long. The café and Nikko consumed all her hours.

The fact that he seemed interested enough to ask that she choose his food and chat with him while he ate bolstered her confidence. Her poise went up a notch as she went about preparing his order, making sure the salad greens were fresh. A slice of tomato and some cucumbers made the final touches. She poured some freshly brewed coffee into a tall mug and joined him again.

"You still haven't told me your name." He asked, putting his phone in his back pocket.

"It's Noelle. Noelle Mancini."

"Mancini? Portuguese? Italian?"

"My dad is Italian. I was born in Italy. My mom was Afro-American."

"Have you visited Italy since?"

"I-No. My mom brought me to America when I was two years old, and I have not been back since."

"That sucks," he muttered.

"Yeah. Tell me about it," Noelle muttered back, remembering the dilemma regarding the working permit and her immigration status.

"You own this place?"

Noelle sighed deeply and answered, "Yes."

"Married? Single?" Hunter asked curiously.

"I swore off on marriage years ago. But I do have a son, Nikko. So, yes. Single."

Noelle realized his questions bordered on the personal, but admittedly, she felt no qualms about sharing that aspect of her life.

He gave her a quizzical look.

"How can someone as beautiful as you elude marriage?"

He was staring at her candidly. She hoped there were no more flour smudges on her face. Then she realized he was waiting for a reply.

"Marriage is not all that it's hyped to be. First, you need to have a boyfriend. And if that boyfriend turns out to be an asshole, you just thank your lucky stars that you didn't make that walk down the aisle."

"You're a wise woman, Noelle Mancini."

She looked at him and raised her brows, "So I assume you're single, too?"

Hunter inhaled deeply and replied, "Yes, I am."

Her heart wanted to burst out into a jubilant rendition of the "Hallelujah Song"...

"And I plan to stay that way."

... and then plummeted down to the floor.

"Why's that?" asked Noelle.

"I have come to realize that my value as a person is in tandem with my bank account. I'll need both my fingers and toes to count the number of times an attractive woman 'ran into me by accident,' only to discover that she's actually done extensive research where I normally hang out, what my favorite food is, who my friends are. You get the picture?"

"Not all women are the same, Hunter. You've just been unlucky," Noelle added with an assuring smile. "Take your time. It's not like women will go out of style anytime soon. You don't have to rush into marriage." Noelle advised innocently.

"Not if some people had their way," Hunter muttered darkly.

Noelle thought that was a strange remark but decided not to question any further as she noticed Hunter looking away.

"You work around here?" Noelle veered the subject wisely

"Yes, I work over at the Blackwell Building on 5th Avenue," Hunter replied.

Noelle was familiar with the address. It was an impressive sixty-story structure of steel and glass with an iconic courtyard that housed some of the finest culinary dining experiences in the entire city. The inhabitants of that building were technocrats, bankers, engineers, and accountants dressed in three-piece suits and expensive leather shoes. He wasn't dressed that way at all.

Noelle's curiosity stirred. Did he work in one of the restaurants and heard about her secret recipes? In her little world, Noelle was famous for substituting herb and spice with exotic seasonings that made her sandwiches unique. She had labored long and hard for those recipes. Next to her son Nikko, the recipes were her treasured possessions.

Noelle's Mr. Brain had every intention of proving that he had dominance over her Mrs. Heart. Maybe this man was spying on her? That could explain the reason he asked her to choose the food to serve him for his meal.

"What exactly do you do over there?" she asked suspiciously.

Hunter looked at her and shook his head.

"I don't wanna say. We're getting along so well."

"So, I was right. You're here to spy on me then." Noelle raised her voice and pushed her chair back.

"Wha-what?" The confusion was written all over his face.

"You work in one of those restaurants and heard that I have a technique for making sauces. That's the reason you're sharing all these stories about your sorry life...to get on my good side, anticipating that I'll share my secrets with you." Noelle accused.

Hunter stared at Noelle like she had gone full-on crazy. Then he doubled over and hooted with laughter. His shoulders shook with unrepressed hilarity as he reached for a glass of water.

"I'm sorry..." he said, then rolled with laughter for the second time.

"I'm glad I amuse you." Noelle declared coldly.

"I'm sorry," Hunter tried again, drawing deep breaths, and struggling for control. "I can't believe you mistook me for a cook. I couldn't boil water even if my life depended on it," he admitted somberly.

"Oh!" Noelle mumbled, suddenly feeling foolish.

"I should hire you as my therapist. I've never laughed so hard in my entire life," Hunter declared.

"Sure. But you're still paying for that sandwich," she retorted. "You haven't answered my question, though. What do you do there?" She insisted.

Hunter smiled and replied, "My full name is Hunter Blackwell. I own the Blackwell Building as well as the companies that are situated inside."

"You must work really hard to have a building named after you," Noelle answered.

"Not really, the building was part of the inheritance from my father. I don't associate myself with much of what goes inside that building. It's just a job, I guess you can say. But it's not my passion," Hunter replied.

"What's your passion then?" Noelle asked curiously.

Hunter leaned back into his chair, pulled one leg across his knee, and fixed his eyes on Noelle.

"Education! That's my true passion. I want to change the educational system in America. The institution is stuck in the 1800s."

Noelle's eyes widened.

"Continue, please." She urged him.

"You sure you want to hear this?" Hunter asked.

Noelle nodded enthusiastically.

"The classroom set-up hasn't changed much since the 1850s. Students are seated in grids as if we're mentally conditioning these young people to work in factories. We manipulate them to think like they're goldfish inside a glass bowl. That's their whole world. What if we tell them that fish can fly? Can you imagine the potential? That's what I want to accomplish – provide young minds with enough sense and positive conditioning wherein they realize the limitless potential that they possess. That's my dream."

Profound silence followed.

"Wow!" Noelle mouthed, truly impressed this time. "You should run for Mayor," she declared.

"It's a bit loftier than that, I'm afraid. I am running for the senate, or at least I want to IF I get a ticket. But it isn't as easy as it sounds. Some people think that I am unfit for higher office because of my reputation."

"That's unfair," Noelle contradicted. "I believed everything you said. You'll get my vote."

"I should not only hire you as my therapist but also as my spokesperson. You can talk some sense into those snotty skeletons who think they can run my life." He muttered indistinctly.

"Sure!" Noelle retorted, not hearing clearly as she glanced at the wall clock. "Look at the time! I've been yakking my head off, and I'm opening in a few minutes," she announced in near panic.

Hunter looked disappointed. He grabbed his wallet and pulled out some bills.

"Will this cover it?" He asked, handing her three twenty-dollar bills.

Noelle removed one bill and returned the rest to him. A wretched feeling suddenly bloomed inside her as she was sorry to see him go. But she had responsibilities to take care of, even if the thought made her unhappy at the moment.

"Noelle?" Hunter called out.

"Yes?" She replied, sacrificing a few more seconds of her time.

"I really loved talking to you. Would you mind if I dropped by again? Even if you did think I was here to steal your sauce recipe."

"Sure," Noelle answered, her eyes shining with pleasure, "I may share it with you now that I know you can't even boil water," she replied impishly.

Sexy laughter preceded his exit. And Noelle admitted to herself that she liked the sound very much.

# Chapter Three

"...must have asked you that question three times already." The lady with hair in screaming shades of green and orange announced, concern appearing in the bright eyes.

"Huh?" Hunter grunted, coming back to the present. He was so engrossed that he hardly noticed Lisa standing by his desk. "What question?" he replied, embarrassed at being caught.

"What do you intend to do about this?" Miss Lisa repeated, laying the thick linen envelope with his name embossed in gold on the table.

It was an invitation to the Governor's Ball, a yearly fund-raising event. At $2,500 a plate, it was one of the most prestigious events held in New York City. Every "who's who" in the city scrambled for an invite.

Hunter grimaced. Another boring event that was sure to hog the headlines of every newspaper the next day. He glanced at the envelope and replied, "Write a check, I suppose."

"You don't have it in mind to go?" Lisa asked. At sixty years of age, her wits were still sharp as a whip, and she could easily read the mind of one of the richest men in America.

Lisa had known Hunter all his life, having worked with the Blackwell family since she was fifteen. When Hunter took over the reins of the Blackwell Empire, she was his only choice as his personal assistant and private secretary.

She often referred to herself as a glorified nanny, totally devoted to her once young ward, often casting an evil eye at employees who swooned when the big boss was around. No one could win against her in a stare down match of wills. She could have retired years ago, but Hunter insisted that he couldn't do without her.

"What's wrong?" she asked candidly. She was the only person in the building who could be this blunt with Hunter and get away with it.

"It's the same shit every year." He replied with venom.

"You realize that sending a check won't be enough? A no-show would ruffle feelings, and that's not what we want right now."

"Fuck their feelings and shove it up their asses." He replied viciously.

"Tell me what happened at the meeting," Lisa prompted gently, as she took a seat.

Hunter narrated what had occurred at the meeting with the council. He scowled, remembering the condescending attitude regarding his reputation and how they thought he would be unfit to hold the position of Assembly Man. He huffed in disdain at the suggestion that he settle down, change his lifestyle, and get married.

"Those old turds wouldn't be sitting in their air-conditioned offices if it weren't for my campaign contributions,' he sneered.

"So, you'd rather act like a rebellious twelve-year-old and not go, to prove what exactly?"

"They can't tell me what to do with my fucking life."

"Oh, honey," Lisa smirked, "go ahead and tell them to shit in their adult diapers. That's your prerogative. But... weren't you the one who said running for the senate was your dream? I still have to see the day you let anyone stand in your way. So, if that means having to lick their asses, for now, do it."

Hunter repressed a chuckle.

"I guess you're right. I have to find a suitable date that would pass the discriminating taste of those dodos."

"That would be a problem then. Your taste runs from the Avante Garde to the extremely tacky," Lisa retorted, keeping a straight face.

Hunter laughed. "If you were forty years younger, I'd take you as my date. Hell, I'd even marry you."

"Humph. I wouldn't. You hold no surprises for me. I washed your butt when you were a baby." Lisa replied impudently, making him laugh again.

She stood up to leave and added, "I need to know her name."

"Who?" Hunter replied, looking edgy.

"Your date, silly. I have to put her name down when I do the RSVP," Lisa replied, wondering why he was acting so jumpy suddenly.

He nodded, relieved when she finally left the office. It didn't take much for the old gal to see right through him. He could never lie to her. But he wasn't ready to reveal that his mind was still set on someone that he had just met.

Noelle Mancini.

He left the café this morning with reluctance. He practically forced himself to leave, realizing that he was taking too much of her time. She needed to work and make a living. The feeling nagged at him till he reached the office.

There was something about her that strummed a chord in his sophisticated mind. Sure, she was gorgeous. The sheen of chestnut hair that fell in waves around her shoulder, the bronzed skin that reminded him of caramelized champagne truffles, the green eyes that shone when she laughed or blazed when she thought he was spying on her – he couldn't shrug her image out of his head.

But Noelle seemed unaware of her beauty. She had a delicious ass, he admitted. The way she undulated her hips while dancing, innocently unaware that she was being watched. The rise and fall of her chest, when she turned into an angry tigress, evoked curiosity and sexual attraction. What would she be like, naked and passionate, in his arms?

He couldn't get beyond how unaffected she was to the Blackwell name. Most women would fawn and simper. Noelle was more interested in his ideas for change. That was totally refreshing. The other women that he dated would automatically lose interest, preferring to search for clues if he was interested in seeing them again.

What was it that his dad used to say? ' _You can't go wrong with a woman who can cook.'_

She doted on her son and still managed to run a business. She had ambition. She was the ideal American girl and very genuine.

Instinctively, he felt that something was troubling her. He wondered what was on her mind. Meeting Noelle today was serendipity, he was sure of it! With her place being the only café open at that hour, just when he was on the lookout for a place to eat in a side of town that he rarely went to. If this morning's event was one of his many business deals, he would have gone in for the kill, based on a sixth sense that there was something wrong, and then come out successfully with another business acquisition.

Thinking about her now made him feel restless and needy. He reached for his cell phone.

_Idiot. She didn't give you her number._ He reprimanded himself.

Although her eyes did light up when he mentioned wanting to see her again. _I wonder if it's too soon to show up for lunch._ He thumbed it down. It had barely been an hour since he left her. That and his exaggerated sense of manliness didn't approve. Women did the chasing. Never him.

A movement by the door alerted him to Lisa's presence. She was the only person in the entire building who entered without announcing her presence. Perks of the relationship, she often teased when he mentioned it to her.

Hunter pretended to be engrossed with his Mac. Lisa placed a check made out to the Governor's Ball. He signed it, not bothering to glance at the figure.

"Don't forget the name. I need it for the RSVP," she reminded him.

"Yeah," he replied. Knowing Lisa, she'd remind him again before the day was over.

Unexpectedly, a wild idea formed in his mind: he would ask Noelle to come as his date.

# Chapter Four

Noelle Mancini sprinted down the two blocks that led to Café Eats Well. Her heart hammered inside her chest. She expected to see the red, blue, and silver flashing-lights of a police cruiser parked right in front of her café.

"Mommy, wait up," Nikko complained, trying to keep in step with his mom.

Noelle couldn't understand the whim that made her decide to leave Miranda inside the café last night. Just before closing the shop, she peeked and noted her still sleeping form. The pallor on the girl's cheeks had transformed into a healthy hue, making her utter a grateful prayer.

Her worst fear was to have to report a dead girl inside her property. She expected to see Miranda awake when she checked up on her. But watching her snoring lightly and in deep slumber, Noelle was overwhelmed with compassion. She didn't want to wake her up and be the messenger of the bad news that she needed to leave the premises.

Moving closer to the girl on the bed, Noelle realized that Miranda looked younger than when she first saw her slumped on the sidewalk. The pain that lined her face was gone. The tight black hair had come undone and was spread out against the pillow. Miranda was lying on her side in a fetal position, indicative of a rough and shy side to her character, which went against the soft and sensitive profile of the face in slumber.

Noelle made an impulsive decision. She scribbled a note and pinned it against Miranda's pillow. Satisfied that she was doing the right thing, she closed the shop and headed home. Her back hurt from fatigue. It had been a day full of surprises, indeed.

Noelle knew the reason. She tried to squash the emotion and failed miserably. She really was on a high note after the unexpected first visitor for the day, Hunter Blackwell.

She fought the urge to stare into space and moon over his memory. It was one of life's gifts, a straight toss in her direction when it could have been just a curveball.

She shivered at the memory of his touch when he removed the flour smudge from her chin. The way he tossed his head backward, displaying a sparkling set of white teeth in laughter when she made a funny remark. The way his eyes held her captive as he listened intently while she talked about her passion for cooking. Those reminiscences were etched clearly in her psyche and were an intoxicating recipe that could have turned her day into a disaster... or a win.

She was on cloud nine, and that was probably why her normally suspicious nature was on full confidence mode with regards to allowing Miranda to stay the night. She was humming a tuneless song when she turned off the lights and headed home.

Noelle's eyes flew open just before the sun was up on the horizon. She had a bad dream. In her dream, the café was trashed and broken into and all her hard-earned equipment gone. She broke out into a cold sweat, hardly believing what a stupid decision she had made the night before to leave a stranger inside her beloved store.

She hurried into her son's bedroom, intent on bringing him along. Their neighbor, who took care of him when she was working, wouldn't be coming until hours from now, and she couldn't leave him all alone.

"Hey sleepyhead," she crooned as she caressed Nikko's hair. "Want to come with me to the café? We can have breakfast at McDonald's."

***

"I'm sorry, honey." Noelle apologized guiltily, slowing down her pace so Nikko could keep up.

Her eyes frantically searched the sidewalk fronting the café. No police cruiser, no activity to suggest something went wrong during the night. But the lights inside the café were burning brightly.

Through the glass window, she noticed movement inside. Instead of using her own keys as she normally did, panic made her rap loudly on the door.

Miranda opened it instantly. She was still dressed in Noelle's clothes from the night before. She held a mop in one hand, and there was a bucket of soapy water near the doorway.

"Good Morning," she greeted Noelle shyly.

"You're feeling better?" Noelle strived to speak normally. The last thing she wanted was to offend the girl with her suspicion. Everything seemed normal. In fact, the whole place was gleaming.

"You've been cleaning?" Noelle noted in wonder. "Miranda, you didn't have to do that. You are still sick." It was then that she observed the wafting smell of freshly baked bread. "And baking too?" Noelle added in awe.

"I woke up feeling so much better," Miranda confessed, "I used beeswax on the tables. I hope you don't mind."

"Miranda, that's just so thoughtful of you," Noelle replied, besieged with shame for thinking the worst about the girl.

"It was the least that I could do for your kindness yesterday," Miranda murmured.

Nikko, who was silently watching the exchange, suddenly came forward. "Hi, I'm Nikko. What's your name?"

Miranda's eyes lit up as she stooped down and took the extended hand. "My name's Miranda, and I think you'll love what I have inside the oven."

Nikko shadowed Miranda, who retrieved a character cake pan from the stovetop. Noelle had a bunch of those pans that she used when she would cater to children's parties. Miranda turned it over gently onto a plate. The bread was the shape of a boy lugging a schoolbag.

"That's cool," Nikko announced, taking the plate from her.

"There's grated cheese and hotdog stuffed inside. Be careful, though, because it's hot." Miranda replied.

Noelle watched the interaction between the two and castigated herself for doubting the girl. Miranda appeared to have a natural empathy with children. The proof was Nikko digging happily into the bread and forgetting about the promised breakfast at McDonald's.

Noelle joined her at the counter, where Miranda was busy rubbing on the finishing touches of beeswax. Having done that, she gathered the mop and the bucket and then headed out back. When she reappeared, Noelle had set up breakfast for both of them.

Miranda joined her, shyness still visible on her face.

"I didn't know that you could bake," Noelle said to break the ice.

"I used to run a small bakery back home in Nigeria. When I arrived here ten months ago with my mother, we stayed with her boyfriend. I saw a poster that said a French chef was taking in students who wanted to learn to bake. I applied and got accepted. I never finished the course, but I learned a lot from Chef Luigi."

"Chef Luigi? I interned with him, too," Noelle confessed with excitement.

There were two things she now knew. Miranda was Nigerian, which explained the accent. Her Ls and Hs were missing. So were her Fs, while the Rs rolled on her tongue. And she studied under Chef Luigi, one of Noelle's icons in the food industry. In her eyes, he was a demi-god.

Noelle felt an instant kinship with the other girl. But she needed to know how she ended up just outside her doorstep at the cafe.

"How's the cramping? Is it still bothering you?" Noelle asked cautiously, not wanting to create the impression she was prying.

"I'll be fine; I just haven't slept in weeks. I ran away from the home where I was staying with my mom. I couldn't do it anymore... He is an evil man." Her eyes welled with tears.

Noelle's heart constricted. With a sinking suspicion in her mind, she verbalized a question and secretly prayed that she was mistaken, for Miranda's sake.

"Did your mom's boyfriend..." Noelle couldn't bring herself to finish the question, leaving it hanging in the air for Miranda to answer or not.

Miranda slowly nodded her head, giving in to a flood of tears. "Yes, he raped me. I ran away to protect my mom and not get her into trouble. That was his baby I aborted." Miranda confessed.

Noelle's heart broke for her. "Do you have a place to stay? You need time to recuperate before going out into the streets again."

Miranda shook her head and replied, "I heard they give temporary shelter at the Y. I'll go there after I leave here."

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Noelle acted on impulse again – it was just one of those light bulb moments. Miranda was good with her hands, and the café smelled clean and looked well-polished from all her efforts just that morning. All that, plus the fact that Miranda could bake too: it made sense. Noelle would also get more free time for her son.

"Or... you can stay here and help me with the café. We can fix the room at the back so it becomes your temporary quarters. When you're back on your feet, you can look for a more permanent place to stay. I can pay you..."

Miranda looked thunderstruck. Noelle trailed off from her pitch of a job offer.

"You're serious?" Miranda asked and broke into a wide grin.

Noelle nodded vigorously, grinning from ear to ear. She didn't expect to be enfolded in a giant hug that squeezed the air out of her lungs. Nikko saw them hugging and laughing and talking at the same time, like turkeys at the zoo. He decided to join the party. The three were soon entangled in a group hug as hearty celebratory laughter filled the air.

And just like that, a bond that could not be explained was formed.

# Chapter Five

Noelle could only describe her current situation as happy. No, she thought. Happy felt too ordinary a word. Blissful popped into her mind. It still wasn't enough, so she settled for euphoric instead.

Within days of hiring Miranda, she instantly felt her load lessen. Miranda was so efficient that she didn't have to worry about running out of supplies in the café. Noelle could accommodate more clients, and she didn't need to close early. Miranda even took over the grocery shopping, leaving Noelle more quality time to spend with her son.

After both girls had the routine down pat, Miranda transformed from a shy, scared girl to someone who exchanged easy banter with the customers. Noelle thanked her lucky stars for Miranda was truly like manna from heaven.

They exchanged ideas about spices, herbs, and condiments. Miranda taught her about exotic spices like Achii, Ogbona, and lyere. Noelle discovered, to her delight, that Miranda also had secret recipes just like her, but she had no qualms about sharing them. Noelle, to her chagrin, didn't feel the same. She held on to her secret ingredients.

A natural friendship developed as they shared stories about their lives. Noelle realized that even if they came from different parts of the world, there was something more in common between them than she previously realized.

But admittedly, Noelle's euphoric feelings were not just because of Miranda. Hunter Blackwell's presence filled her heart to overflowing.

The day after she met him, Noelle struggled to be on the side of prudence and chose to think that she would never see him again. It was the familiar battle between her Mr. Brain and Mrs. Heart.

Or perhaps, it was her lack of self-confidence. Men like Hunter Blackwell never strayed into her trajectory. They were like shooting stars that blazed on the horizon and then disappeared.

Her brain insisted... _Don't be silly. You'll never see him again. Hunter's declaration that he wanted to see you again was just a sophisticated way of making a graceful exit. Men do that all the time. He didn't even ask for your number,_ the cynical brain of hers rationalized.

Her heart, though, was optimistic and more positive and kept her hope alive _. He'll be back, Noelle. You'll see._

So, when Noelle recognized the familiar figure of Hunter Blackwell approaching the café entrance, she almost dropped a tray of salad that she was holding. She gave an audible gasp that at once attracted Miranda's attention.

Noelle handed the tray to Miranda and went rushing towards the back as if her butt was on fire. Mrs. Heart was doing a lively version of the flamenco inside her chest.

Noelle ran a comb through her hair and quickly dabbed powder on her nose. Then she casually strolled out once again. An onlooker would think all was well in her world, except for the heightened flush on her face. Surreptitiously, she scanned the café. Hunter was seated precisely where he was positioned the day before, facing the street and with his back towards her.

Noelle sat behind the cash register and pretended to be occupied as she studied the order slips from the morning sales. Miranda sauntered over, holding the menu in her hand.

"Did you take his order?" Noelle asked coolly.

"He says he'd rather let you do the ordering for him," Miranda replied with a smirk. Then she mouthed, "OH MY GAWD! I almost peed my pants. That's one heck of a man."

Noelle controlled the impulse to giggle like a schoolgirl but couldn't help the silly grin that spread across her face. She took the menu card and mumbled incoherently under her breath, "Tell you about it later."

She approached him with quaking legs. He acknowledged her presence by immediately scrambling off his seat and giving her a peck on the cheek.

"Hi," she stammered, as unwarranted awkwardness suddenly assailed her entire being.

"Hello, Noelle," he replied with sobriety, then grinned.

Noelle realized that all her worries about not seeing him again were for naught. He looked just as eager and excited to see her.

"Hey, Hunter. It's good to see you again. What can I get you for lunch?"

"It's such a beautiful day that I think I want to eat alfresco."

Noelle was disappointed. They didn't serve outside, which meant he wasn't staying.

"I noticed there's a park a few blocks away, and I'm pretty sure I saw a Sabrett food truck there somewhere. Would you like to have a hotdog with me?"

Noelle's heart soared.

"You and hotdogs? I never saw that coming. It seems like an unlikely pairing."

"You'd be surprised. My tastes can be quite uncomplicated."

Noelle's heart soared again, PLUS it did a full somersault, too. _I am uncomplicated._

"Well, can I steal you for a few minutes?" he persisted when she didn't give a response.

"Yes, of course. I'd love to."

Miranda gave a loaded smile when Noelle said that she was stepping out with Hunter.

She soon realized that walking beside him was tricky. Her limbs acquired a life of their own, and it was like having more than one pair of feet. It was a challenge to appear like she did this every day, walking the streets of New York with such a gorgeous-looking man, that even a dog on a leash gave them a second glance as they passed it on a corner.

She was sixteen again and out on her first date.

Mr. Brain was left behind in the café, leaving Mrs. Heart to pilot Noelle's body. But she wasn't doing a very good job because Noelle suddenly stumbled over a jutting piece of pavement.

"Whoa," Hunter exclaimed, pulling her back, and holding her hand tightly in his.

Noelle felt the tingling sensation travel from her fingertips to her elbow. Fortunately, she managed the rest of the trip without any other mishap. The food truck was there, just as Hunter said, and he stood in line with the rest of the early lunchtime crowd.

It was hard not to notice the side glances that women threw his way. But Hunter seemed oblivious. They went in search of a bench and found one under the shade of an elm tree.

Noelle noticed he really liked hotdogs, as he chewed on his sandwich heartily. She bit into hers and relished the delicious wieners. She'd had them before but never realized they tasted so good.

Maybe it's the company.

"Anything new happened since I last saw you?" he asked, making conversation.

"Yeah. We now have a new president, and a space probe landed on Mars," she replied succinctly, then laughed, "Silly, I just saw you yesterday."

"Was that just yesterday when we met? Felt like years to me. I couldn't wait for this morning to come. I said to myself, Hunter, you need to see that girl again."

Now he was just flirting with her. Noelle responded with a teasing smile.

"I'm glad you came. I wasn't sure you would."

"Why not?" he asked curiously.

"Because-because... I didn't think you'd be interested to see me again. I mean..." Noelle stammered.

"What do you mean? Tell me." Hunter persisted.

"We have nothing in common," she replied simply.

"We both like hotdogs. That's a start."

Noelle laughed.

"I'd really like to get to know you more, Noelle."

"Yeah. I think I'd like that too."

"Good."

"Good," she echoed.

"Would you like to go out on a serious date with me then?"

"By serious, you mean, not a hotdog kind of date?" She lightly asked.

Hunter looked momentarily uncomfortable and then decided to lay things out in the open.

"I need a date to the Governor's Ball. It's something that I must attend to advance my political career. You being there with me would make things easier to bear. I find those affairs rather tedious, honestly. Would you like to go with me?"

Noelle gasped in surprise. She knew all about that prestigious event because it always made the papers.

"You're kidding, right?" she asked with hesitation. He had to be.

Hunter noticed the look of uncertainty and replied, "You don't have to decide now. It's still days away. I know I'm asking too much from you, but I hope you say yes."

If only he knew that it wasn't about asking too much from her. Noelle just didn't know how she would navigate that strange and unfamiliar world.

But he did drop by steadily after the hotdog date, and their growing familiarity followed a natural course. He never mentioned the Governor's Ball, preferring not to pressure her in any way. The invitation did stay in Noelle's mind, though, and it bothered her that she wasn't yet ready to commit.

Surprisingly, Miranda wasn't as comfortable around Hunter. Noelle confronted the girl, thinking something was wrong. Miranda replied that she was scared she would jump him if he made so much as eye contact with her because he was so sexy. They both had a good laugh over that one.

Noelle couldn't be faulted for thinking that when heaven poured blessings, it was usually a deluge. Everything was going just right.

Then one morning, Miranda met her at the door with a worried look on her face.

"Some dude here to see you," she said just above a whisper. "I refused, saying we're not open yet. He insisted that it was okay. Says he's family."

Noelle walked over to a figure seated in a corner. He was reading a newspaper that covered his face. He lowered it when she came near.

"Hello, Noelle," the man greeted her.

She almost lost it.

"Diggs? What are you doing here? I thought you were..."

"In prison?" he finished. "I actually thought I'd rot in jail. Turns out, I could be set free for good behavior. So, I sucked it up and did everything to convince them retards that I was a changed man. I'm on parole and decided that I wanted to visit my favorite girl."

Noelle felt her skin crawl. Seeing Diggs was the last thing she expected. She thought she was finally free of him when he was sent behind bars five years ago.

Diggs Romero was her ex-boyfriend and the father of Nikko. She met him when she was just out of high school, and Diggs was a local thug who had an arrest record as long as his arm. He dealt mostly in petty crimes and swaggered about the neighborhood each time he was released. He often bragged that the penal system couldn't keep him behind bars for good. He was far better than the system, he said.

To a naïve young girl barely out of school, Diggs represented a figure that inspired awe in young Noelle. He was somebody who could protect her from a dubious neighborhood. And when he started showering her with attention, Noelle was thrilled. Eventually, Diggs became her boyfriend, to her mom's dismay.

The more her mom insisted that she break up with him, the more Noelle regarded Diggs as the love of her life. The rift between mother and daughter then widened, and when Noelle could no longer take the constant battles, she decided to move in with Diggs.

But slowly, and then with an ever-increasing awareness, Noelle realized his true nature. Diggs dealt with drugs. Noelle couldn't keep count of the number of times some stranger would knock on the door of their apartment. An exchange would take place, and then Diggs would splurge on alcohol, often staying in a drunken haze for days.

It was during one of his binges that Noelle nagged him to change his ways. The argument eventually became heated. Noelle threatened to leave him and return to her mom. Diggs retaliated by pushing her hard against a wall. She slipped and hit her head so hard that she lost consciousness. She woke up in the hospital with a slight concussion, and it was there that she discovered that she was pregnant.

Noelle finally realized and accepted that Diggs was violent by nature. The concussion was only an omen of what was in the offing if she didn't make the right decision then and there. She had a heart-to-heart talk with her mom, who was only too willing to take her back. Noelle was determined from that time on not having anything to do with Diggs Romero.

But her growing belly couldn't be kept a secret from him. Diggs cajoled and made endless promises to mend his ways. Noelle was torn between giving him another chance, for the sake of their unborn child, and to live a safer life with her mother.

And then one day, shocking news broke out in the neighborhood. Diggs beat up a girl so severely that she landed in the hospital in critical condition. Her family took him to court. He was sentenced to life imprisonment for First Degree Attempted Manslaughter.

Noelle had no idea that Diggs was seeing another girl on the sly while trying to win back her affection. The news was all that she needed to come to a final decision. She never wanted to see him again. Destiny took control and spared her from a miserable life.

Until today.

"I think telling my assistant that you are family constitutes a violation of your parole," Noelle accused.

"But I AM family," Diggs replied smoothly. "You had our child."

"You stay away from my son," Noelle warned, immediately regretting the outburst. She just told him what he wanted to know.

"He's my son, too. I think my parole officer would be happy to hear that I want to take part in my son's life."

Noelle recognized the subtle innuendo, and she wanted to puke in panic. Diggs was unpredictable; he could make trouble for her and Nikko.

Suddenly, Noelle remembered the Catch-22 situation with Immigration and her uncertain status. Fear gripped her heart. If things got out of control, Diggs could even end up having the custody of Nikko.

"What do you want, Diggs?" Noelle asked weakly.

"You seem to be doin' really well with this café and all. And able to hire a maid, too? I'm impressed. So, I was thinking you wouldn't mind sharing your wealth with me, seeing that I just got out of prison?"

Noelle immediately sensed his intention. He was blackmailing her, and rage coupled with fear cocooned her. If she didn't put up, Diggs could cause trouble, right here and now.

"First of all, Miranda is not a maid. She is my assistant. Second," Noelle fumed, removing a five-hundred-dollar bill from her purse, "Don't think you can come barging into my store each time you need money, you piece of shit."

Diggs chuckled menacingly, tucking the money into his pocket.

"Oh, by the way, have you worked out your residency visa? I remember you mentioning that to me before."

Noelle blanched. He knew too much about her.

"Yes. I just got word that my status has been approved," she lied.

"Good for you," Diggs sneered as he stood to leave the premises.

Noelle watched him go with a sickening feeling. This wouldn't be the last time she'd see him again. She was in trouble, and she knew that now. And the admission was enough to thwart all the good things that had been happening in her life.

# Chapter Six

Noelle had every right to be flabbergasted.

The last few weeks, she had traversed both ends of the pendulum where her emotions were concerned. Her stomach hurt each time she thought about Diggs and what his sudden appearance meant for her and Nikko. Then there was the uncertainty of her residency status and the possibility of losing everything she had worked hard for.

But the upside to her misery was her blooming friendship with Hunter Blackwell. While there was no intimation that he wanted to bring it to another level, Noelle admitted to herself that he was easy to be around. The only time that he ever displayed that he had a temper of his own was when he shared the struggle of what he was going through while trying to get an endorsement for his political ambition. It seemed like the council was giving him the dangling carrot on a stick treatment.

On the surface, he was the perfect gentleman. He treated her with the utmost respect, holding her hand and kissing her on the cheek each time he brought her back to the café.

Noelle thought he was playing it cool and didn't want to scare her off. It pissed her off that he never attempted to kiss her. That was enough to put her in a bad mood.

Consequently, she was caught off-guard when he mentioned the Governors Ball again. She had almost forgotten about it.

"Please, Noelle. My secretary, Lisa, has been hounding me for days now. The ball is next Friday. Say yes and put me out of my misery. Please!" He implored with those expressive eyes.

Noelle hesitated. She promised to think about it. Deep inside, she knew she was nervous being in the company of people outside her class in society, people she had absolutely nothing in common with.

Miranda learned about the invitation and the reason for her hesitancy. "A man like that asked you to be his date to an important event, and you tell him you wanna think about it?"

Noelle nodded. The look on her friend's face said she was a loony.

"He'd be pretty disappointed with you if you didn't go. Might even stop coming around," Miranda cautioned.

Noelle knew that Miranda was right. Besides, this was a chance to meet Hunter's friends and know more about his world. She would be going for him. Not for anyone else.

And... this could be the next step in their relationship.

The notion was exhilarating. So, she texted him yes and said that she was coming as his date. He messaged back with a smiley emoticon.

***

Noelle thought she was okay until insecurity hit her like a cannonball. Honestly, she had been on constant pins and needles since the day she agreed to go. Like a loyal friend, Miranda kept her flagging spirit going. Noelle couldn't remember the countless times she almost changed her mind, picking up her phone and then snapping it shut before she could dial Hunter's number.

She stared at her cabinet with a sinking feeling. Dresses judged "not good enough" lay at her feet in a tumbled heap. Reproaching herself wasn't helping the situation anyway. Panic assailed her. The idea of shopping for a new dress kept popping up during the past few days, but like some idiot who needed an excuse not to go, she kept pushing it back.

Tonight was the affair, and as she stood in front of her closet, she bawled like a child, giving in to all her fears. She was certain that none of her clothes even remotely resembled a dress good enough to wear to one of New York City's most prestigious events. She imagined the women whispering behind her back and making fun of her. She would be the laughingstock of the well-heeled crowd. Hunter would be so embarrassed.

She just couldn't do it.

She realized that her cell phone was ringing and recognized Hunter's number. This was her chance to tell him that she wasn't going with him after all.

"Hello, Hunter..." she said in a shaky voice.

The line was choppy with so much metallic interference that she could hardly hear his voice.

"Noelle, listen. I can't talk long. I'm taking off in a few minutes, but I will be back in time for the ball. Someone will drop by the café later today with a car and will help you with everything you need. You have nothing to worry about tonight."

"Hunter, I can't..."

"I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Hunter...WAIT!"

The line went dead. Noelle pressed the 'call again' button. All she got was a metallic voicemail response saying that the party was not available.

"Shit..." she muttered in frustration, tossing the phone onto her bed.

What did he just say? Something about someone dropping by at the café and helping her with everything she needed. A car and chauffeur?

She didn't need a car; she wasn't going anywhere. She had nothing to wear _._ Her mind was made up.

There was nothing more she could do for now, and she had to be in the café. Miranda would be in a tizzy if she didn't show up. Resigned, she left the rest of the day up to fate.

***

"You cannot just NOT go, Noelle. You don't flake on a date like that." Miranda implored her.

"I know...but it's for the best. I don't want to embarrass him in front of his friends and frou-frou guests."

They were prepping for the afternoon crowd while arguing over her dilemma. Miranda was adamant that she still go to the ball. Noelle was resolute. No, she wasn't going.

As they argued back and forth, a shiny black Bentley pulled up elegantly on the sidewalk beside the cafe.

"Shit," Noelle muttered.

Was this the person Hunter sent?

Curiously, they watched as a man stepped out and stood on the pavement. The newcomer looked dapper, wearing a coat and a tie, and carrying a satchel in the other hand. He puckered his brow as he checked his iPod. He scanned the area looking up and down the street before deciding he was in the right location. With a measured and confident gait, he headed straight for the café entrance.

"Maybe he's lost and needs directions?" Noelle mumbled hopefully.

"Maybe he's gay as hell," Miranda tittered.

The man entered and flashed a smile when he saw them both. "Hello, my name is Thomas Gaye..."

"Told you," Miranda whispered and fled, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

Noelle strived for a poker face and said, "Yes, Mr. Gaye, how can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Noelle Mancini?"

"Yeah, that's me," Noelle replied, wondering who he was.

"Miss Mancini, I'm here on behalf of Mr. Hunter Blackwell. He said to assist you in whatever capacity you need for the ball tonight. I'm Mr. Blackwell's personal shopper."

Personal shopper? What the hell was that? And why did this man speak with a British accent like he was a butler from a medieval era?

"Err-Mr. Gaye," she replied, squashing the desire to laugh, "I really don't know..."

"Leave it all up to me. I know everything that you need."

"Does that include the dress she needs to wear tonight?" Apparently, Miranda had time to compose herself and decided to join them.

"Why, yes, of course," Thomas Gaye replied, sizing Noelle with expertise, "...plus a visit to the hair salon, hairstylist, make-up, shoes, and clutch... the whole shebang."

Miranda whooped in triumph as Noelle glared at her.

"Problem solved," Miranda announced with glee.

"Come. Come. We have very little time." Thomas groaned.

_Little time? The ball was hours away_.

"Go!" Miranda urged, handing Noelle her purse. "I can manage without you."

Inside the plush confines of the Bentley, Noelle sat uncomfortably beside Thomas. She had no idea what he had in store for her and where they were going.

"Mr. Gaye..."

"Oh... call me Thomas," he replied with a flutter of his wrist.

"Okay. Are you British?"

Thomas looked at her then succumbed to paroxysms of laughter. "No. I was born in Brooklyn. I just thought a British accent would make me more credible. Mr. Hunter seems to think I'm doing a great job. And I'm gay... just so you know."

The admission broke the ice, and Noelle felt her anxiety fade away.

"Have you ever dressed a girl before for Mr. Blackwell?"

"No, never. I mostly shop for his personal needs like clothes, perfume, etc. I gotta admit I was surprised by this particular request."

"He's probably dated some of the most sophisticated women in the city." Noelle fretted.

Thomas raised a brow to the roof. "You're right. But I can teach some of those ladies a thing or two on refinement."

Noelle smiled at the consolation. She still wasn't sure that this was the right thing to do.

"Trust me," Thomas added, noticing her woebegone expression, "When I'm done with you, Mr. Blackwell will approve. That's a promise."

The car came to a stop outside a spa located in the heart of Upper East Side Manhattan. Thomas announced cheerily that she was getting a full face and body party-prep. Noelle wondered what the hell that was. Inside, she was asked to remove all her clothes after a fluffy robe was handed to her, and then she was led to an aromatic steam room. She came out feeling more relaxed then when she came in.

That wasn't so bad.

Next, she was ushered to a private room and was asked to climb a bed and open her legs. It was a massage table. Noelle covered her eyes in mortification as an attendant gave her a Brazilian Bikini Wax. She felt something warm on her vagina. When the attendant yanked the piece of muslin cloth, Noelle saw stars and let out a shriek. She comforted herself in that time with devising ways and means to kill Thomas Gaye for the pain she had just endured.

The next stop was the mani-pedi station where more pain headed her way as her hands and feet were covered in hot paraffin wax before her nails were painted.

Looking up, she heard a commotion by the entrance. Droves of people entered the spa, holding cloth bags over their arms. Two clothes racks were wheeled inside where more dresses were hanging, just waiting to be unveiled and tried on.

"I booked the entire second floor for your dressing room. I thought we could save time by bringing the clothes here." Thomas announced gaily.

He was obviously in his element as he traipsed upstairs.

Shambling from all the pain, Noelle hobbled to the make-up chair where her eyebrows were threaded.

When that was over, another hairstylist worked on her hair, cutting, blow-drying, spritzing hair gel, and God-knows-what else. Noelle resigned herself to everything happening around her and hardly cared. She was numb.

When the hairstylist announced she was done, Noelle was led up the stairs and into a room where racks of dresses stood in attention. Thomas stood by the door and clapped his hands in delight.

"Your hair and make-up are perfect," he acknowledged, "but we still have to choose the right dress for you," waving his arm dramatically towards racks filled with dresses.

Noelle approached one rack and pulled out a dress. It had a very expensive designer label. She placed it back and pulled out another. That, too, had a recognizable high-end label at the back. So were the next and the next and the next.

She looked at Thomas in confusion. How was she to decide when her whole body was a giant lump of pain?

"I know...I know..." Thomas chanted, "So I narrowed it down to these three." He waved his arms towards a rack that held three designer gowns.

Noelle was relieved and threw him a grateful look.

She at once knew what she wanted. The strapless shell pink with a sweetheart neckline and crisscrossed bodice was calling her name. The chiffon draped down to a flowing hemline. It was simple yet classy, and it was a Vera Wang creation.

Thomas clapped his hands in approval.

"Good girl. That was my choice, as well. I thought I had to knock you unconscious just to get you into that dress. Come," he urged, giving her robe a meaningful glance.

Noelle understood and dropped the dressing gown. She stood naked as the day she was born. He hardly gave her body a second glance.

Has he ever seen Hunter naked?

Thomas held the dress gingerly over her head. It flowed down her neck, past her shoulders, and onto her feet like liquid gold. It was meant for her and a perfect fit. Noelle was eager to see how she looked. Thomas pulled her back before she reached the mirror and handed her a pair of open-toed, crystal-studded shoes. Noelle put them on meekly. Then Thomas brought her to the full-length mirror.

Noelle gawked in disbelief. That wasn't her. Thomas had conjured a magic wand and replaced the real Noelle.

"Well, do you like it?"

Thomas must have asked the question several times before the words penetrated her brain. She stood there in front of the mirror and realized her mouth was wide open. She needed to pick her jaw off the floor before she could make a coherent response.

"I-I like...Oh, Gawd! What's not to like? I mean...who's that girl?"

Thomas smiled and flipped open a rectangular velvet box.

"For the piece de resistance. Tah dah!"

A wreath diamond necklace soon nestled delicately against her neck.

Thomas had to haul her out of the room, otherwise, Noelle would have stood there all day just staring at her reflection. He rushed her to the Bentley and instructed the chauffeur where to go. On the way she got a text from Hunter:

Can't wait to see you soon. Sorry, I will not be able to enter with you ... too much press. I will be waiting for you as soon as you walk in.

Noelle replied with an OK and a smiley emoticon, but she was terrified to be going there alone. She knew, however, that Hunter was right, and they could do without the press' unnecessary attention.

# Chapter Seven

It was a short ride to the Plaza Hotel in New York City. Noelle immediately recognized the concrete arches and large glass and bronze façade. The building took a ghostly appearance bathed in the glow of huge spotlights.

The Bentley came to a halt in front of the cantilevered stairway covered in a lush red carpet. A uniformed porter opened the car door.

Thomas stepped out and held his hand to Noelle. She smiled in relief. Thomas was coming too.

"Your prince is waiting inside," he whispered, then re-entered the car.

Noelle wheeled around in alarm. "You're not coming with me?"

"My dear girl, I am a stylist, not a nanny. Raise that chin high and own the dress. The press is waiting."

The car moved forward, and suddenly Noelle felt all alone. As she looked up, she noted the horde of paparazzi that lined both sides of the stairs, kept at bay by velvet barrier ropes. She had to pass that mob to get inside.

"I can do this," she muttered, hating Thomas for abandoning her this way.

She took a tentative first step, keeping her eyes focused on the landing that felt a hundred miles away.

"Can you give us your name Miss? Are you here with someone? Do you work for the movies?"

She heard the questions thrown at her as the blinding light of flashbulbs followed her ascent. She kept her poise and stayed silent.

Noelle reached the multi-story lobby and entered the cool interior. Her eyes were at once attracted to the crystal chandeliers that sparkled like a million constellations. She saw the paintings by the masters and the pictures of famous performers that had performed at the historic hotel.

Her heels resounded against the marble flooring as she followed the strains of an orchestra. It led her to a vast ballroom where an usher asked for her name.

"Mr. Hunter is inside," the girl said and escorted her in.

Noelle fought the urge to cling to the usherette like a lifeboat. The room was crowded, with a wide circular dance floor in the center. She stood hesitantly by the door, and heads turned in her direction. In the sea of black and white tuxedoes, it was almost impossible to spot Hunter Blackwell.

Hunter was in deep conversation with the Mayor and his wife, continually searching the room to see if his date had arrived. He wondered how he would spot her amongst this multitude of people.

Suddenly, he sensed a change inside the room. It was like the unexpected appearance of the sun on a stormy day or a sudden warm breeze on a particularly chilly night. A wave of curious faces turned towards the entrance of the ballroom as if attuned to something truly spectacular.

Then he saw her.

Hunter immediately excused himself, oblivious to the fact that he had left the rest of his sentence hanging. The Mayor and his wife looked at Hunter in surprise, as he scurried towards the entrance of the ballroom.

From a distance, their eyes locked.

Noelle felt the world tilt. She had never seen him this elegant. The three-piece suit hugged his body like a second skin, and the formal shoes shone to perfection. His hair was slicked back, and a five o'clock shadow decorated the side of his face and chin.

His eyes stayed locked with hers. He approached like a majestic lion, coming to claim its prey – assured and confident. He was a few feet away when his eyes crinkled, and the lips broke into an approving smile.

Noelle was relieved and happy to note that her jaw had not slackened and left a slobbering mess.

"You like?" she asked, spreading her arms apart for him to see the dress.

He immediately covered the gap between them and whispered intimately in her ear, "You are the most ravishing creature I've ever seen. I will be the envy of every man tonight."

He took her arm and placed it against his as he escorted her inside. Noelle was aware that a thousand eyes followed their every move. But she was no longer afraid. Hunter was all the confidence she ever needed to own that moment.

The power inside the room was palpable. Noelle at once recognized the Mayor and his lovely wife. She was familiar with the Deputy Mayor, the kind and gentle face of the Police Commissioner, the taciturn New York Assembly speaker, and other high-profile personalities she only read about or saw on TV.

Their luminescence dimmed in the presence of her date. Hunter stood tall among the crowd as several guests sought his company. Hunter made a point of introducing her to Mr. James Powell, a tall and wiry black man with streaks of gray in his kinky hair.

Mr. Powell was the Council speaker - the head of the same council that was making life difficult for Hunter with regards to getting a ticket nomination. He appeared entranced with her and asked her to dance.

Noelle suspected there was a reason behind it. And it became apparent the minute Powell got her alone on the dance floor.

"I never realized Hunter had such a beautiful secret. Where has he been hiding you all this time?"

It was a compliment, but a probing one. He was very curious about her.

"Thank you, Mr. Powell. But I'm not really a secret. I've known Hunter for some time now."

"Have you? I still maintain that it's a remarkable secret."

"There's really nothing remarkable about me. I am an ordinary girl from this city who runs an ordinary café in Queens. I have a four-year-old son whom I adore and hope to raise well. It's the same story, multiplied a thousand times over, in the Big Apple."

"You turn your life into a work of art to redeem the ordinariness – a condition you are stuck with." Powell quoted.

"Yes," Noelle replied, "Robert Dessaix, I believe. An Australian author. I've read his memoirs."

Powell's bushy eyebrows raised a notch. "Beautiful and intelligent, too. I like that in a woman."

Before she could make a comeback, Hunter showed up and cut into their dance.

"You're monopolizing my girl," Hunter accused, sarcasm dripping in his voice.

Powell grinned and replied, "Keep her close before she decides to slip away."

Then he turned to Noelle and gallantly kissed her hand. "Miss Mancini, it was a pleasure making your acquaintance."

Noelle nodded slightly, accepting the compliment. Oddly enough, she found that she liked him too.

Hunter took her hand and placed it on his shoulder. The other arm snaked around her waist and pulled her close to him.

"Have I already told you that you look ravishing tonight?"

"You have to thank Thomas Gaye for that. He is a miracle worker."

"He had the best ingredients to work with."

"You don't look so bad yourself. I've never really seen you in a suit before," she retorted.

"Welcome to my world, Noelle Mancini."

Noelle looked at the faces around her and replied, "It's a little scary, this world of yours."

"You? Scared?"

"Uh-huh. I almost didn't come, you know. When you called this morning, I was about to tell you. But you didn't give me a chance to."

Hunter's eyes widened. He grinned and said, "I could imagine tomorrow's tabloids if you did. HUNTER BLACKWELL STOOD UP BY DATE! That wouldn't be very good for my ego."

"I'm glad you sent Thomas then because I would have lost out on the opportunity to see you look so dashing," she quietly teased him.

"Thank you for coming. You've made this night a lot more tolerable."

It was the kind of banter that was understandable on the surface, but really created a heightened awareness of each other because their faces were only inches apart. His breath fanned her cheeks as he spoke. The cologne he wore merely added to the olfactory sensation.

Noelle made a brazen move and placed her cheek against his. The arm around her waist instinctively tightened. Her hand pressed softly on his shoulder while his palm caressed the small of her back. She tried to ignore the curious looks from the other guests as she lost herself in their vertical display of horizontal longing on the dance floor.

"You know, of course, that I'm totally turned on by you right now?" Hunter whispered.

"Yes, it's tough to ignore the thing that is pushing between my legs." Noelle giggled.

The atmosphere between them suddenly changed. It became animated, sizzling, like the shock that comes from exposed electrical wiring.

Hunter pulled back perceptibly and gazed into her eyes. Noelle gazed back, not wishing to lose the connection. An unspoken exchange ensued. There was no need for words. Their eyes did the talking... and both understood.

"Let's get out of here then," Hunter said in a voice that had gone an octave lower.

# Chapter Eight

The view outside the glass window of his home was spectacular, something out of this world. Noelle stared, almost hypnotized, into the sea. Across the ocean, the moon took control and dominated the landscape. It resembled a giant orb of silver, casting its pale light and creating a swath of silvery patterns on the still waters.

A slight movement made her distinctly aware that Hunter had joined her out in the patio. He offered her a glass of wine.

"To you," he raised his glass in a toast.

Noelle smiled and raised her glass back at him.

There was no awkwardness between them, just a heightened awareness and unspoken anticipation of the desire that was building, and the carnal knowledge of what they wanted from one another.

"Noelle," he uttered her name, his face inches from hers. The warmth of his breath stoked the embers and warmed her like kindling. He moved closer and held her in his arms. Heat began to form in her chest that traveled throughout her body, down to her toes.

He scrutinized her every reaction, from the slight trembling of her lips to the way her nostrils flared as if she found breathing difficult. He leaned forward slowly just as Noelle raised her face, and in that instant, their lips touched in their first kiss.

For Noelle, the initial meeting of their lips was the beginning of a journey. Hunter's assuredness overcame whatever hesitation she hid so well.

At once, their lips moved in harmony, moving in circles in the act of getting to know each other. Rough and smooth, soft and moist, they were a perfect fit. Noelle's heart swelled, even as Hunter's own beat loudly against her chest.

From a gentle probing, it blossomed into something bold and searching. Hunter slipped his tongue into her mouth. Suddenly it was no longer just a kiss. The desire was evident in the way they devoured each other, lips and tongue in a furious battle that flowered into a longing to express something more urgent.

Noelle moaned gently, and so did Hunter, before he picked her up and carried her inside.

Without breaking stride, Hunter carried her up the stairs and straight into his bedroom. He deposited her gently down to the floor. He turned her away from himself and rested both hands on her shoulders. He kissed the side of her neck just behind her ear then pulled the pin that held her hair up until it cascaded like a waterfall on her shoulder. Hunter lifted her hair and tugged at the zipper on her back.

Noelle held onto the bodice of her dress. She realized that she was completely naked underneath the gown with just a pair of undies. The soft zipping sound the dress made was in complete discord to the wild beating of her heart. Suddenly, she felt shy.

Hunter faced her once more. He smiled as he saw her desperately holding on to the dress. He pried her hand away from the soft material. The gown dropped down to her feet like a whisper.

"You have beautiful skin," he purred in approval, before dropping down on one knee, catching her by surprise. He held her ankle and removed a shoe, doing the same with the other foot.

Noelle sent a silent thank you to wherever Thomas Gaye was now. All the pain she endured earlier at the spa gave her confidence that she was ready for anything tonight. But she needed to snap out of her stupor before she turned into a statue.

Her arms reached out to him. She began to undress him slowly and deliberately, enjoying the sight of his body as his clothes came off a piece at a time. She didn't stop until he was as naked as she was. His clothes joined the heap on the floor. She shimmied out of her panties as he did the same with his underpants.

She gently caressed the side of his hip, marveling at the curly hair that was his happy trail. Her palms made caressing motions to his back, where she lowered them down to the gentle mound of his ass and copped a feel. It was hard and firm to the touch.

His nostrils flared, yet his breathing came in aroused pants of desire. Hooded eyes failed to conceal irises that dilated with sexual tension. Their eyes locked in a hypnotic trance. She gently sucked on his shoulder, teasingly biting his flesh, and moving her way up his neck without any particular destination.

Hunter's cock responded to her strokes, poking hard against her navel. She wanted to touch and caress it. But Hunter was suddenly down on his knees again, kissing her navel before burying his face between her legs.

"You smell so good," his muffled words reached her.

Noelle arched her back, raising her face to the ceiling and giving a soft moan of pleasure. She ran her hand through his hair. A gesture she wanted to do since the first time she had met him. It felt soft to her touch. She pulled him up so that they faced each other.

He twisted his arms behind her back, lowered them down to the back of her thighs, and pulled both legs upward. Noelle straddled him, wrapping her legs around his lower waist. He carried her easily and brought her to the bed.

Noelle recognized the achy sensation that bloomed between her loins. A tightening inside the vagina that could only be described as pure anticipation. Their eyes were firmly locked onto each other.

Hunter shimmied backward, folded his legs beneath him, and sat before her naked body. He reached for her knees and planted her feet on the bed, opening her legs wide. His eyes smoldered as he bent forward, towards her pussy, and began kissing the outer lips of her vagina. Then he reached with his tongue and flicked at her protruding clit.

"Ohhh god," Noelle moaned and closed her eyes.

She felt his fingers part the lips of her vagina, followed by the firm, moist sensation of his tongue on her. She felt the slippery slickness of her own arousal even as he increased the pressure of his tongue on her sensitive nub, stroking her there. When he probed her with his middle finger, Noelle thought she would surely go insane. Her whole body was on fire.

Hunter's masterful strokes with his tongue sent her body arching off the bed and moaning and sighing sounds reverberated from her throat.

Without breaking his tempo, Hunter reached up and cupped her breast, squeezing it gently before his thumb started its own brand of sweet torture on her hardened nipple. The combination of his tongue on her clit and finger massaging her nipple in a circular motion almost made her come. Her body shivered; every hair on her skin stood on end.

Noelle wanted him to stop, or she would surely cum even before he was ready. Heart and brain were again at odds. Noelle wanted all this pleasure to go on until she reached the zenith of her gratification but realized that beyond her own peak was an even higher summit if they orgasmed together.

She was moaning wildly as her body was racked with hot and cold sensations. But she didn't want to cum in his mouth even as her fingers clawed wildly on the bed, searching for the willpower to tell him to stop.

"Please stop now before I come," she begged him with extreme difficulty.

Noelle moved quickly, pushed him back, and pinned him down to the bed. She straddled his hips as her face hovered just above his. Her hair was a curtain that parted down on both sides of her cheeks. She could smell her scent in his mouth.

She kissed his ears, blowing gently into them and biting the tender-firm skin of his lobes. She followed a path down the side of his neck to the slopes of his shoulder. Her lips massaged the hardness of his abs, biting and sucking softly. She explored the beginning of the hair that covered his chest and ended gently just below the navel, where it spread out into a patch of pubic hair.

Noelle reached for his cock and gripped it firmly in her hand. She ran her palm from the tip and then flared gently down to the base of his cock. A wild shiver passed through his body. She was hypnotized by the thing that reared with a life of its own. As it lengthened with her attention, the thin skin shone with a pinkish hue while the head was suffused in a darker shade of crimson.

There was nothing she wanted more than to taste him. She opened her lips and licked the dew that glistened in the narrow opening at the tip. It tasted sweetish in her mouth. Then she wrapped her lips around the tip and took him inside her mouth. Her tongue brushed the lower side of his penis as her mouth took him deeper.

Another tremor ran through his body as his cock lengthened even more inside her mouth. She bobbed slowly up and down, increasing her tempo ever so gently before she settled for a steady, faster rhythm.

She stole a glance at him.

Hunter's head was thrown back against the bed in bliss, his eyes in a tight squint, his jaw clenching and unclenching with every pass she made on his penis. His neck was stretched tautly as a growl of pleasure emanated from the mouth.

"Ohhh, Noelle, that feels so good," he groaned.

Noelle kept a relentless attack, her saliva making it slick and smooth. Her lips slid firmly over the entire length of his cock as her tongue worked in tandem with each movement of her mouth.

Minutes passed, and Hunter's body trembled. His moans had altered into wild groans that bounced off the walls. He began a slow thrusting motion, enjoying the slippery feel of his cock in her mouth.

By sheer will, he pulled away and slowly released himself from her warm mouth before pushing her gently onto the bed. He used his thighs to open her legs and positioned himself between them. He lowered himself, cock hovering over her pussy, targeting her clit. She reached out and maneuvered his cock from under, gently rubbing him against her without going any deeper. They stayed that way for some time, relishing the feel of slick skin against slick skin.

Then Hunter moved deliberately and penetrated her. A sigh escaped her lips as the hardness of his cock filled her. He pushed into her slowly, slowly increasing his tempo, guiding his thrusts so that he made contact with her clit at every pass.

Noelle felt the heat in her body spread slowly with ever-increasing intensity. She was like glowing coal combusting and turning into a blaze. The blaze traveled from her pussy, sending waves of indescribable sensations as he drove into her with deliberate movements, pushing with circular motions of his hips, manipulating her to follow his rhythm in a dance as old as time.

Noelle found herself meeting every successive plunge even as he lifted her ass off the bed. Her fingers clawed at his back, twisting, curling, and caressing him like a maniac.

"Ohhh God, don't stop, please don't stop," she moaned as she recognized the higher summit in the near distance.

"Go faster, Hunter, please go faster..." she begged him.

Hunter's groan had turned into primal growls as he traversed the distance to his own pleasure.

"Come for me, baby," he urged her with every fiber in his body, begging for release.

He positioned his body and formed an arc over her. He took possession of one of her tits and sucked hard, tongue swirling against her nipple, never losing the rhythm of his thrusts inside her pussy.

Noelle screamed with ecstasy. It was all she needed. She felt a spasm that began in her navel and traveled like lightning to her vagina. A warm feeling overcame her. She spiraled into a powerful orgasm as her fingers dug deep into his back.

Simultaneously she heard Hunter grunt like a lion in heat even before her body could stop shaking violently. With one final thrust, Hunter orgasmed as her vagina went into an involuntary clench, sucking every ounce of juice that came spurting from his penis.

Then he dropped down slowly into her like an inflated balloon, his breath sounding like a wind tunnel in her ear. Noelle knew she could stay there forever. Trapped under his weight, tangled in his arms, and feeling thoroughly fucked.

***

Noelle was suffocating. She couldn't breathe. Something heavy was obstructing the air in her lungs. Her eyes flew open in alarm and noted the strange surrounding. Seconds passed before she realized she was in Hunter's house inside his bedroom. One arm was flung across her chest, and one leg was hooked across her thigh in a grappling clinch.

The smell of sex permeated the room. She relaxed as memories came flooding. She stared at her lover in awe. The pinkish hue of the closed lids, the lashes that fanned out - these were trivial parts of an all-consuming personality she was just starting to recognize.

His closed eyelids moved randomly, indicating a dream state. Noelle hoped he was dreaming about her.

Hunter was a voracious lover. Noelle thought she surely had no more to give, only to find she was responding to his every command. He tasted, probed, and explored every niche and crevice, every fold, and all the secret places of her body. She was in sexual positions that she never even knew were possible, her orgasms becoming more intense with every contortion. He was like an animal that needed to mark his territory before he became exhausted and settled down to sleep. Recalling their sexual exploits of the evening made her feel hot and sexy, as she recognized the familiar raw ache between her loins.

But she didn't want to rouse him yet. And a more ordinary sensation was adamant and could not be ignored. She was hungry. Her stomach grumbled loudly, just to prove a point.

She pulled away, trying hard not to jostle him. She picked up his shirt from the pile on the floor and hoped he wouldn't mind. It was either that or wander naked about his house. The thought of running into someone unexpectedly almost made her change her mind. But she was famished.

Out in the hallway, Noelle thought she needed signages to tell her where to go. But rationale dictated that the kitchen had to be on the ground floor. She headed down the long winding staircase, wondering how Hunter managed to carry her to the bedroom.

After getting lost a few times, she eventually found what she was looking for and headed directly to the enormous freezer to rummage for food.

"I can cook him breakfast," the delightful thought occurred to her, and she started a search for any ingredients that she could find. She felt at home in the kitchen. It was a familiar domain, and soon she was happily whistling a tuneless song.

# Chapter Nine

Hunter's first reaction after finding her gone was apprehension. He sat up in bed so fast that his head spun. Normally he'd breathe a sigh of relief, thankful to be spared the morning drama with other women. Then he spotted her gown still lying on the floor. He smiled as relief washed over him. The reaction was something new, something he had never felt before.

He padded on bare feet towards the kitchen. The sound of pans and utensils alerted him to her whereabouts. He stood by the doorway and watched her move assuredly around his kitchen, not aware that she was being watched.

"How can someone who was putty in my hands last night be totally oblivious of my presence?" asked Hunter. He cleared his throat. She looked up instantly and flushed.

"Hi," she greeted shyly, "I'm preparing breakfast. Would you like some? I'm famished," she admitted.

He approached her slowly, checking her reaction to his sudden appearance. She was looking flushed. He removed the tray of eggs she was holding and placed them on the counter. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her hard on the lips.

She was panting when he finally let go.

"Good morning," he grinned, suddenly feeling triumphant, "Yes, I'm famished too."

"Could you beat those eggs for me, please?" Noelle asked, turning away in search of fresh milk for the scrambled eggs she planned to make. She found a carton and began dicing potatoes, some bell peppers, and onions.

She stole a glance in his direction. He had a bemused look on his face.

"What?" she asked, surprised.

"Beat? What-how, I don't know..." he stammered.

Noelle almost burst out laughing. He couldn't boil water, he admitted in the past, even if his life depended on it.

"Here, let me show you."

She expertly cracked an egg into a bowl.

"Give me three more of those," she requested and went in search of the whisk.

"Fuck," He cursed under his breath as a cracked egg landed on the counter.

He had better luck with the rest.

Noelle grabbed some paper towels and wiped the counter clean. She handed the whisk and made a beating gesture. He reached for it awkwardly, not knowing which end to use. Noelle kept a straight face as she splashed olive oil into a pan. But the recollection was so comical that her shoulders shook with silent laughter.

"You're feeling very unimpressed with me right now, aren't you?" he asked sternly.

Noelle burst out laughing. He gave a sheepish grin and handed the bowl over. Noelle tossed the eggs with the rest of the ingredients into the pan.

She handed him the ladle and, with his hand in hers, mixed all the ingredients until eggs were just the right amount of softness.

"See? You can cook."

She was just making conversation because standing close to him wasn't doing much good for her equilibrium.

She found a serving dish and expertly flipped the eggs into it. He looked impressed.

"Do you have any plans for today?" He asked over spoonfuls of the delicious meal.

"What did you have in mind?" she retorted.

"Well, I was wondering if you'd like to spend the day with me here in the house."

A whole day with him?

Noelle was bowled over. The idea of a repeat of last night was making her sweat. There was nothing she wanted more. Then she remembered Nikko. She was certain that Miranda spent the night with him in her apartment. Nikko adored the girl. Each time their doorbell rang, her son expected Miranda to be at the threshold.

"I'll see what I can do. I must call Miranda and find out. The café is normally closed on Monday. But I hate leaving Nikko..." her face crumpled over the sudden remembrance. Diggs' sudden reappearance was disturbing.

"What is it, Noelle?"

Noelle shook her head. Diggs was a part of her past that she'd rather forget. Telling Hunter about that part of her life was akin to airing dirty laundry. She was ashamed of her past.

Hunter recognized the stubborn expression. He drew near and held her close.

"What is it, Noelle?" he urged firmly, "You can tell me."

Noelle sighed unwillingly. In her mind, the past was riddled with shame. It was a constant reminder of why she avoided any serious relationships. She wondered if coming clean would pave the way for any future between them. It shocked her that she even considered having any relationship with him. A night in the sack, and she was suddenly optimistic. Did she dare take the risk and tell him how low she went back then?

He looked at her expectantly, and Noelle took the risk to unravel her past.

Hunter was silent as she reminisced about Diggs and how they met, running away from home to shack up with him, her initial shock and realization that Diggs was everything her Mom thought he was. Noelle spared no detail, including how he physically abused her and landed her in the hospital, her discovery that she was carrying his baby, Diggs insistence that they make up for the baby's sake, and his consequent imprisonment for beating another girl.

She bowed her head in shame. Her past was a testament to how stupid she was; Hunter must find her revolting. The thought brought a lump to her throat. She couldn't bear to see the look of disgust on his face.

"Look at me, Noelle," he commanded, "It's not your fault. You were young and immature. It could happen to anyone."

Sympathy and understanding flitted across his face but mostly anger for what she suffered because of the bastard.

"Diggs is back. He appeared at the café a few days ago. I was shocked to find him there. He said that he was out on parole and wanted to know about our child. But I know he came to find out if I had money to give to him. I couldn't say no because I was afraid he would cause trouble."

Hunter's face turned dark with rage.

"And he knows about my problem with Immigration. I lied to him, but it won't take much for him to find out the truth."

Talking was painful. Noelle sobbed just thinking about her problems.

Hunter looked at her with confusion.

"What exactly is the problem with Immigration?" Hunter asked earnestly.

Noelle sobbed even harder.

"Mom never meant to stay permanently in America after she brought me here from Italy. That was all she ever talked about. She just never made it back there. She never filed any papers about my citizenship. I don't have a birth certificate. The café is under her name. But now that she's gone my permit to operate a business cannot be granted because I'm not an American citizen. It's all so complicated. I'll lose everything that I've worked for all my life," she cried.

"Hush, it's all right. I'll help you. I have powerful friends. I won't let you lose anything you've worked hard for. I promise, Noelle."

She found the reassurance very comforting. She believed him. It was like a heavy burden was lifted from her chest. She didn't know how Hunter could possibly help, but if he did, she would be indebted to him forever.

"Alright," she replied tremulously.

Suddenly, a phone rang somewhere inside the house.

"That's my private line," Hunter announced with a frown.

Who would be calling at such an early hour? It had to be important. Very few people knew the number. He left her and went to take the call.

Alone, Noelle cleaned up. Keeping no secrets worked. She was back to being excited to spend the day with him. Diggs and his threat were never really far from her mind but telling Hunter her story made her breathe easier. She had the entire day to look forward to.

But first, she had to make that call to Miranda. Nikko always wanted to visit the zoo. Miranda could take him. That would surely make him forget that he hadn't seen his mom since yesterday.

***

When Hunter reappeared, he looked perturbed and agitated. But he managed a relaxed smile when he saw her. Noelle saw the look and wondered.

"Take a shower with me?" he asked.

Curiosity fled her mind in a snap. Everything that happened during and after the shower was exactly how she expected it to be.

Lying spent in her arms, he suddenly asked: "Would you like a tour of the house?"

It was the last activity Noelle was interested in doing unless he planned to make love to her in every room. She knew there had to be nearly a dozen. She repeated the thought to him.

"You'll be the death of me, woman," Hunter replied in mock anger.

She giggled, then remembered. "I have nothing to wear except your shirt."

"I think I have that covered," Hunter replied, leaving suddenly.

He reappeared with shopping bags in his hands.

Noelle looked at him in wonder.

"Thomas." He said simply. "I gave him a call and asked him to do some shopping."

"Is he still here?" Noelle asked, eager to thank the personal shopper.

"I highly doubt that. Here, try these on."

To Noelle's delight, Thomas Gaye not only got her size right, but he had good taste too. There were ladies' shorts, pants, and tops. He even had the foresight to include a pair of undies and a brassiere.

During the tour of the house, Noelle realized that Hunter's home was not only magnificent, but it was sprawling too.

"Exactly how rich are you again?" Noelle asked sassily, having lost track of the number of rooms in the house.

She only came to realize that he even had his own private chef when they returned to a lunch spread out in the patio. No wonder he didn't know how to cook. He didn't have to.

Time went by so fast that Noelle hardly noticed. When she looked out the window, the sky was a dazzling shade of purple and pink against an orange sun descending slowly on the horizon.

Hunter was standing by the window, looking out into the sea. Noelle thought he was acting strangely again, often with an introspective look on his face, giving her glances when he thought she wasn't looking. She attributed it to being tired after all the sex they had.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she approached and asked softly. She stood behind him and crossed her arms against his waist.

He shook his head and turned to face her. He pulled her close and whispered, "Would you like to take a walk with me by the beach? The sunsets here are really spectacular."

Noelle nodded with enthusiasm. Nothing could be more romantic than to cap her day with a stroll down the shore. She was elated when he removed his shoes and intended to walk barefoot in the sand. She did the same.

She was pensive because she had to leave him soon. This was a day she would never forget, but she didn't have a clue what would happen after. Hunter, too, seemed to be lost in his own world. The wind was gentle, and the light waves that swirled around their toes erased the footprints they left behind.

They ended right back at the beachfront of his house, where Noelle noticed a white blanket spread out on the sand. There was a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver ice bucket and two flutes beside it. A dainty napkin covered a tray of hors d'oeuvres.

Noelle was curious about the people he employed. They had to be the most discreet team or were just ghosts because she hadn't seen a soul since she arrived.

Hunter sat on the sand with Noelle beside him. He still had that strange look on his face, like he was anxious or about to tell her some bad news. It struck her that he was worried about telling her to go.

Even if the idea of leaving tonight made her sad, Noelle wanted to reassure him. She was fine with everything that happened between them. She had no expectations. She would even settle with being friends if that was all he could offer.

She looked at him earnestly and said, "Hunter, there's nothing to worry about. Everything that happened between us today... I'm okay with it. It doesn't have to happen again, and we don't ever have to talk about it."

An expression like she just wounded him crossed his face.

"Noelle, everything that happened between us meant something to me..." his voice trailed off.

Noelle was elated. So, the feeling was mutual. But why did he look so anxious? Hunter seemed to be struggling with something. Then he gazed at her and took her hand.

"Remember, I said I wanted no secrets between us?"

Noelle nodded.

He took a deep breath before proceeding.

"The call you heard this morning was from James Powell. Remember him from last night?"

She remembered the imposing black man and nodded.

"You know, he heads the council that has been giving me a tough time about getting a nomination ticket at their party. Those guys have been making a huge fuss about me being single and, therefore, not credible for the office of Senator. Well, those crafty idiots also know that I have no immediate plans to get married anytime soon. James knows that I am just as stubborn as those old farts."

Noelle listened and wondered where this was all going.

"Well, guess what? James and I had a long talk this morning. It seems his admiration for you goes beyond just your beauty and brains. He spelled it out that they would give me a ticket tomorrow if I wanted it. But I have to do this one thing."

"What?" Noelle asked.

"He wants me to ask for your hand in marriage."

"What?" Noelle recoiled in shock.

"I know. I told him he was crazy. But he was adamant... said that my public persona would increase tenfold. Having a wife would make my image sweeter to the voting public."

Noelle was so stunned that she couldn't say a word.

"I know you're probably shocked out of your mind. I was just as shocked when he said it this morning. But think about it. When you shared your problems with me, I promised I would help you. I still didn't know how this morning, but I said I would. Now it all makes sense. If you marry me, all your problems with your alien status will be resolved. You need not lose the café."

Despite the rioting thoughts in her mind, Noelle realized that to be true.

"And more importantly, I can be nominated I desperately want. I can help you. You can help me, too. Call it a marriage of convenience, if we need to put a tag to it. Please, Noelle, say yes?"

Noelle felt her spirit detach from her body and hover above their heads, like an out-of-body experience. She noted these two people talking while seated in the sand. She saw the need in Hunter's face to become a senator, just as she saw her own need to keep her store and her son safe. It was so clear in her mind, as clear as the assuredness that what she felt for Hunter transcended the bonds of friendship.

She was in love with him.

It wasn't important what he truly felt about her. She would never deprive him of the chance to follow a dream. She would give him anything he wanted.

It was through this dreamlike state that she heard herself say, "Yes, I will marry you."

# Chapter Ten

In a seedy side of South Bronx, NYC, decrepit, and broken-down warehouses lined an alley. Like feeble sentries of a bygone era, these once majestic depots have surrendered to the rigors of time and weather, with broken glass windows resembling the toothless smile of a septuagenarian. A lone light post cast a weak glow over the narrow alley. But even the reduced lighting couldn't hide the debris that lined the narrow passageway. Garbage vats lay strewn all over the narrow cobblestone as rats scurried in and out of open bins in search of food scraps. The stench of vermin death and decay reeked, causing unsuspecting passersby to move on in haste.

One building had its aluminum door pried open. Dents indicating forced entry were visible against the doorjamb, even as the rusted handlebar wobbled from a loosened screw against the dented door.

A rickety stairway led to the second-floor landing of the structure where floorboards rotted in several places. Rat droppings lay visible everywhere, even as cockroaches scampered about and scavenged among the dried dung.

A slight breeze blew against a tattered curtain hanging by a glass pane. Remnants of flattened glass sticking out from the sidings posed a danger to the unwary.

A hunched figure limped towards the couch in painful measured steps. Any sudden movement triggered paroxysm of pain from broken ribs. His entire body pulsated with pain. Reaching the sofa, he sat down slowly, wincing at the pain it made. A rummaged athletic bandage covered each finger of his left hand. He tried flexing his fingers to gauge the damage on the muscles and was instantly rewarded by a stab of pain that reached to his elbow.

"Fuck..." Diggs Romero grimaced.

This dump had been his refuge for the last twenty-four hours. It was a stupid decision to show up at his old neighborhood, an homage to his ego that assumed that people still feared the young punk from years ago.

Any other sane person would steer clear of the neighborhood where he once made headlines for almost killing a young woman, an old girlfriend whose family hounded him relentlessly in court until he landed in jail.

Things were initially fine in the old neighborhood, with former gang mates giving him high-fives and slapping his back in welcome. The five-hundred dollars he obtained from Noelle provided the cans of beer and the pizza for his homecoming, providing him with the bragging rights to monopolize the entire night with stories of his prison escapades.

But Diggs failed to remember that in the 'hood, news traveled fast. After the party, on his way to the nearest bus stop, a figure approached and dropped a sack over his head. Then he was dragged quickly and taken to a dark corner where four other individuals waited. They took turns beating and punching Diggs until he dropped to the ground like an empty bag of potatoes.

"That's for Sheila, asshole. The next time you show your ugly mug around here is when you die."

A massive kick to the groin followed the pronouncement. He then lost consciousness. When he came to, he was alone in the dark corner. He slowly stood, shaking from the ground and staggered, barely regaining his balance and tried to walk back to the street where he was targeted. Fear tore at him, but the place looked deserted.

Diggs decided against going back to his apartment, knowing that that was not a good idea. The bruises on his body would be a dead giveaway. Someone may think of calling his parole officer, and then shit would hit the fan, that was for sure.

It was then that he spotted the buildings a block away. He gathered whatever strength he had and hobbled his way down the sidewalk. He passed a dump, spotted the crowbar and the bandages, and picked both items from the trash.

It took a few attempts before he found this particular structure. The door gave way instantly, indicating that hobos used the place for shelter. It didn't matter. He would burrow his broken body here in this dump and wait until he felt better.

He had all the time in the world. A bottle of whiskey lay discarded on its side, and he picked it up and savored the few drops that remained. A half-smoked cigarette was among the treasures he also found, and yesterday's tabloid that was rolled and stuck into the side of the chesterfield.

Diggs slowly unrolled the newspaper, not intent on reading. He was never that kind of dude. But the front page immediately grabbed his attention. He lifted the sheet closer to the window.

It was her; Diggs was certain. She looked different, sure. And the photograph was a bit grainy.

But he recognized at once that it was Noelle's face in the newspaper with some guy he didn't recognize. Despite the gloom, he managed to read the short article. He put the paper down slowly. He was perplexed and baffled by what he had just read.

Noelle was seeing some fancy guy named Hunter Blackwell. The write-up called him a billionaire businessman.

"Holy fuck..."

An idea began to form in his head. Despite the pain, he couldn't help the malevolent leer that appeared on his face. His life had just taken a turn for the better, despite all the beating that he had just taken. But he had to think things through and plan his next move.

Folding the tabloid carefully into a square, he pocketed it and stretched his body down onto the dirty sofa.

Noelle was his meal ticket now. If he played his cards right, he need not worry about getting a job. Money would never pose a problem again. Fuck. He deserved a better life anyway.

# Chapter Eleven

For the second time since Hunter arrived in her life, Noelle Mancini once again stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was tempted to ask her glam squad how they managed to pull this magical creature out of the hat.

Getting to a significant day like her wedding was like going through a meat grinder. Noelle recognized the fact that Hunter was wealthy. She would soon find out exactly how affluent the man was as he would shortly be walking down the aisle by her side.

If a man's bank account was measured by the prominent names that made it to the guest list, Hunter was undoubtedly at the top of the heap. Noelle was impressed by the names on the guestlist composed of the crème de la crème and top elite figures in New York City. Political figures from the Mayor, Lieutenant Governor, and Attorney General, down to the comptroller, were invited. The state senate and the state assembly alone composed nearly a hundred members. Then there were names that Noelle only read about in Forbes Magazine. Movie stars, models, and other members of the performing arts composed the rest of the inventory in their wedding guest list.

Noelle doubted that she needed both hands to count the number of people she knew.

The cast and crew that needed to make the wedding happen were staggering as well. There were wedding planners who had to set their egos aside to work together to produce a lavish single idea. Wedding music was to be provided by a string quartet at the cathedral and a 24-piece orchestra at the party venue.

The Plaza Hotel, as the venue, was chosen for a sentimental reason. It was where they had their first dance.

Then there were the flowers that would adorn both the church and The Met ballroom. They had to be flown in from Amsterdam by cargo plane. The caterers outdid themselves in presenting various menu lists with food items and names that Noelle could hardly pronounce.

Often, she wanted to run for the hills screaming. Hunter had the good sense of sending over Lisa, his personal secretary, who arrived with her entourage of minions. When Noelle was swamped with requests for approval, she would look at Lisa with panic-stricken eyes. Lisa would shoo everyone away, talk to her about what she wanted, and take over the mob.

What Noelle wanted and what Hunter needed were two different things. If Noelle had her way, it would have been a simple private affair with just her, Nikko, and Miranda. But Hunter was not just anybody. He was trying to win in public office. That meant that this wedding had to be as well-publicized as a Broadway play.

Noelle understood the need.

All these were the consequences of agreeing to marry him that night at the beach. What began as a recognition of her true feelings for him resulted in the chaos that followed after the announcement came out.

The betrothal was featured in the society pages of The New York Times. The announcement stirred media interest about the unknown girl who managed to capture the heart of one of America's most eligible billionaire bachelors and would-be senator. The date of the wedding was eagerly anticipated.

James Powell was true to his word. All the obstacles that Hunter initially faced simply faded away. The upcoming wedding announcement even bolstered media mileage for the political party that once told him that he wasn't a suitable candidate.

Noelle, however, was not ready for how the paparazzi hounded her like a rabbit in a Fox Hunt. They were everywhere. She feared for her own safety and that of Nikko as well. She couldn't bring him to the park or even shop at the nearby fish market without her picture appearing in the tabloids. Noelle desperately hoped all the attention would eventually die down after the wedding. So, she squared her shoulders and plunged headlong on her wedding preparations.

Under Lisa's expert hands, the wedding finally took shape. The only hitch to her happiness was Hunter himself. He became a man obsessed with his own preparation. His eyes were focused on the starting line, that was the day when the campaign period officially began. They hardly saw each other. She had to be content with the occasional phone calls. That glitch in their relationship was something that she accepted and understood.

But she couldn't get over the reality that her ex-boyfriend, Diggs Romero, made another appearance at the café. This time, Miranda was adamant that he stayed outside the premises until opening time. She knew all about him now and threatened to call 9-11 if he insisted. Diggs tried to sweet-talk her, but Miranda was having none of it. She answered only his most basic questions about her name and nationality before closing the door on his face.

Diggs accosted Noelle the moment she showed up. Noelle noted the bruises on his face and arms and concluded he was back to his old ways. But when he had the gall to ask for money, Noelle was ready.

"Go to hell."

Diggs reacted like a wounded viper, cussing, and threatening, reminding her who he was.

"He's my son and fuck you if you think I won't fight for him," he threatened.

"You're nothing but a glorified sperm donor, asshole." She retorted.

"You talk like you got it all. I happen to know you lied about the immigration problem."

Alarm bells rang in her ear.

"How-how did you even know about that?"

"I ain't stupid, Noelle. I called up the Immigrations' office pretending to be family. I asked when you could get your documents. Imagine my surprise. They said they had nothing on a Noelle Mancini. You lied."

Noelle decided to confront him with the truth.

"That may be so, but I'm getting married soon. That should solve the matter," she answered airily, with confidence she really didn't feel.

"I've always wondered about that. But I'm not really surprised you managed to hook a big fish. That cunt of yours was always the best part of you."

Noelle gasped in anger. She raised a hand and gave him a resounding slap.

"You're a filthy ex-convict who deserves to rot in jail. If you ever come near me again, I swear I'll have you locked up even if I have to use all my fiancée's resources."

Fear crossed his face. He backed away, mumbling as he rubbed the palm print on his face.

"This is not the last you'll hear from me,"

Noelle decided against mentioning the encounter to Hunter. He had a lot of things on his mind, and he was seldom around, so whenever he actually was there with her, Noelle just wanted to spend time with him.

Noelle eventually got so caught up in a frenzy for the wedding preparations that she managed to put Diggs out of her mind.

***

The day finally arrived. Today was her wedding day. Hunter hired the penthouse suite of a five-star hotel for her, and that was where she now stood, breathlessly gazing at her reflection.

As she gazed at her image in the mirror, she thought her wedding gown was the most enchanting creation she had ever seen. The couturier was selected from a French atelier. Noelle insisted on merging simplicity and classic styles. The couturier delivered.

The dress was made of hand-cut English and Chantilly lace that included surprise detailing like images of various flowers embroidered on the bodice and skirt. Silk organza-covered buttons ran the entire length of her back. It hugged her body because of the narrowed waistline, giving her an hourglass figure. Her veil was ivory lace and displayed similar flower patterns as the skirt. The train was ten feet long.

When her makeup was being done, she insisted on a natural look, not realizing the "no make-up look" took hours to achieve. Her hair was pulled away from her face and lay in soft waves against her shoulder.

"You look stunning," said Lisa, who entered the room silently and whispered in awe, "Hunter would approve," she remarked, wiping a tear from her eye.

Noelle saw Lisa then for the first time without her outrageous hair color. As a concession to the boss she adored, it was now silver, colored with streaks of gray. It suited her. But a gown was still a no-no. Instead, she opted for a silk pantsuit.

"Lisa... you look beautiful," Noelle gushed.

"Bah! Today is not about me. It's about you and Hunter."

She herded Noelle's glam squad out of the room, informing them that coasters waited at the lobby to ferry them to the church. When they were alone once more, Lisa clasped her hands together in happiness, looking at Noelle.

"I'm nervous," Noelle confessed.

"Nothing to be nervous about. You're just marrying one of the richest men in the world. Women are probably cursing you right now," she laughed.

Distress fleeted across Noelle's face.

"Now, now, I was just trying to make you smile." Lisa took her hands and said, "He chose you. That's all that matters. Hunter is a keeper. Look at me. I'm still in his life."

Noelle wondered if Lisa knew the terms of their marriage. Hunter wasn't marrying her for love. He was marrying her out of need - just as she was. The only difference: she knew that she loved him but was clueless about the state of his heart.

Hunter liked her; she was sure. But as she prepared to meet him at the altar, that wasn't enough anymore. It could be the dress, the make-up, the fairytale setting, or the reality that the whole wedding was more of a show to get him closer to his ambition.

But Noelle wished for nothing more than to someday hear him say, "I love you."

Church bells rang as the white limousine ferrying her entered the driveway of the cathedral. The clanging of the bells was in perfect harmony with the wild beating of her heart; a flock of white doves suddenly filled the air, released on cue, from the belfry.

The church was packed, evidenced by the sheer volume of expensive cars lining the boulevard. Police officers on horseback were patrolling the streets, keeping the curious onlookers and media frenzy that broke out occasionally, restricted to the other side of the road.

A cacophony of camera shutter sounds filled the air as Noelle stepped out of the limo. Paparazzi called her name even as wedding planners and her personal glam squad surrounded her, fixing the creases on her dress and retouching her still perfect make-up.

Noelle entered a Zen state, allowing them to do their job. Mr. Brain commanded Mrs. Heart to get lost and took over. A serene calmness filled Noelle's being. She raised her chin and relaxed her shoulders. A deacon led her to the closed door of the basilica as strains of the Wedding March, played by the string quartet, emanated from the inside. Then the doors were dramatically pulled open, giving the audience, who all turned towards her direction, a view of her silhouette with the sunlight streaming behind her.

An audible gasp filled the air.

Noelle stepped into the darkened interior entrance of the church and saw Nikko standing there. He was marching with his mom to the altar. The sight of the little boy, looking so dapper in his white three-piece suit, almost brought her to tears. But Nikko grinned happily as he took his Mommy's hand.

The red carpet was lengthy as Noelle navigated the aisle leading to the altar. Seeing the familiar face of Miranda, who gave her a thumbs-up of approval, was comforting. There was also Lisa, who dabbed a hanky to her eyes. Noelle recognized some of the guests from the Governor's Ball, including James Powell, who grinned from ear to ear.

Then... there was her groom looking so devastatingly attractive, so self-assured, waiting to meet her at the foot of the altar. Her son's suit was the perfect replica of Hunter's own. Nikko shook hands solemnly with Hunter before he took his place in the front pew.

Noelle felt Hunter's hand on her elbow, squeezing her reassuringly. He smiled even as his eyes gleamed in triumph. He mouthed three simple words.

You look perfect.

They weren't the words Noelle longed to hear. But she had to be content... for now _._ Then Hunter guided her tenderly up the altar to the minister who was tasked to seal their vows as husband and wife.

***

The wedding reception at the Met was just as extravagant as the church ceremony. Champagne and caviar were overflowing. Gold-plated silverware gleamed against the thousands upon thousands of fairy lights that dropped from the ceiling. Similar lights adorned the flowers, turning the Met into a veritable Garden of Eden.

Noelle's head was spinning from the number of well-wishes offered to her and Hunter.

Uniformed waiters kept champagne and wine glasses filled continuously as the orchestra set the mood for the extravagant dinner and the dancing that followed.

When the orchestra played the song "At Last," Hunter took the cue and led his wife to the middle of the dance floor where they had their first dance as a couple. Noelle was initially conscious about the eyes that were trained on them alone. But Hunter's confidence and his arm around her waist were enough. She followed his expert moves easily. When the song came to an end, he kissed her in front of the entire assembly. It was a kiss that was just as passionate as their first kiss in the patio, with just the moon and the sea as their witness.

It was a wedding reception that lasted till the wee hours of the morning and landed on the front pages of the newspapers the very next day.

# Chapter Twelve

True to his character, Hunter took off from his hectic schedule and announced that he was taking his new bride to Paris for a week-long honeymoon.

Noelle was introduced to a city famous for being a global fashion mecca. Hunter lavished her with designer clothes that she had only dreamt about in the past.

"Enough already. I have three suitcases full of clothes."

Hunter smiled as he sweet-talked her on taking another one.

"You'll need clothes once I am elected into office. I won't have my wife looking like a frump. What would people think of me?"

It was always about what people would think or say. But that was the very essence of their marriage. Noelle shrugged the gloomy thought aside.

"Have you heard the results of the latest survey?" She asked curiously

The survey was a poll conducted by a private corporation to gauge the likeability of the senatorial aspirants. It gave the candidates an idea about the pulse of the masses.

"Yup. Guess who's topping the list?" he answered smugly.

Noelle squealed in delight. So, she didn't fuss when Hunter indicated to the sales lady that they were taking two more designer dresses along with them. She was just so happy for him.

He brought her to famous restaurants like Ducasse's, whose three-star Michelin rating became Noelle's secret envy. He wasn't opposed to bringing her to quaint out-of-the-way places, too, where Noelle learned about authentic Parisian cuisine.

They spent a whole afternoon at The Louvre, admiring the works of the masters like the Mona Lisa and Venus De Milo. He took her dancing to the Moulin Rouge. Their last night in Paris was capped with a romantic dinner at the top of the Eiffel Tower that gave a fantastic view of the city.

Noelle couldn't have asked for more. It was with a heavy heart that she said goodbye to a memorable week as she stepped into the plush interior of his Gulfstream.

To her displeasure, he immediately fired up his Mac and went straight to work.

***

"You seem famished," Miranda noted as Noelle spooned another mouthful of lasagna. Miranda was trying her hand at Italian cooking and was adamant that Noelle be the first to try her creation. If she approved, they would slowly add more to the café's menu. To Noelle's surprise, it was delicious.

"It's excellent," Noelle mumbled between bites.

"So...spill the beans. How's married life treating you?" Miranda asked, basking in Noelle's approval of her new dish.

"Ohhh," Noelle swooned, "It's everything I expected, being married to someone like him. Hunter is... Hunter is..." She couldn't find the right words to describe the way she felt.

"I get it." Miranda beamed. "I'm so happy for you. You deserve a man like that even if you initially doubted the world he lives in."

"I know. And I will always be grateful. He's like my knight in shining armor, you know. Marrying him solved whatever problems I've had all these years."

"Problems? What problems?" Miranda asked curiously.

"I never mentioned it before because I didn't know what to do about it. But here, let me show you."

Noelle rummaged in her purse and waved a small booklet.

"My passport," she announced. "I am now a legal citizen of the United States."

Miranda blanched.

"I know. Isn't it crazy? I've been living in this country for so long, and it took marrying him to make it all legit finally. You don't know how much I've carried that burden all my life. I was always afraid of being deported back to Italy, where I was born and lose everything I've worked for. Now I never have to worry about that ever again."

Noelle never mentioned this to Miranda in the past and proceeded to tell her the whole story about how her mom died without filing all the necessary papers for her citizenship because she always intended to go back to Italy and find Noelle's dad.

Miranda looked stricken. She couldn't say a word. Noelle misunderstood her reaction.

"I know I should have told you earlier because you work for me. If I suddenly closed shop back then, I realize now you would be affected, too. Don't worry. You're safe now. Everything's fine. Your job is safe with me."

"I've got something in the oven," Miranda announced abruptly and left her.

Noelle was surprised at Miranda's reaction. It made her even guiltier about not telling Miranda everything right from the start. Miranda's job meant the world to her, and she realized that now.

She took another mouthful of lasagna and closed her eyes, savoring the delicious concoction. Her appetite seemed to have increased tremendously. She attributed it to stress. The campaign period would be in a month. She already dreaded being away from Hunter during the campaign period.

Two hours passed, and she felt pangs of hunger once again. She just ate all of Miranda's lasagna. She had no right to be this ravenous. Her tummy felt strange like she had acid reflux, which made her think she needed food.

The feeling was a familiar one. It happened years back when she was pregnant with Nikko. The constant craving for food was excessive. _Shit._ The memory stopped her in her tracks. She couldn't be. Could she? The last time she and Hunter had sex was back in Paris.

Noelle felt chills run up and down her body. It certainly wasn't a good time, and they had never talked about having a baby.

# Chapter Thirteen

Back at the mansion, Noelle found herself pacing the bedroom floor. It was one of many nights when she didn't know when Hunter would be coming home. She had to do it now before she lost her courage entirely.

Alone in the bathroom, she removed the wrapper of a pregnancy kit she bought at a drugstore near the café. She tried to quell the uneasiness she felt inside as she waited for the telltale sign. Her worst fear happened. The result indicated that she was indeed pregnant.

"Oh fuck," she muttered.

Suddenly, guilt assailed her for feeling bad. True, it wasn't part of the plan. But this was their baby. Hunter's hectic preparations ran like a well-oiled machine that didn't have room for unexpected surprises. His team of experts went through all possible setbacks with a fine-tooth comb. No one saw this coming.

"Maybe, I should keep this to myself for the meantime," she debated.

The baby was still on her mind when she heard his car in the driveway. She glanced at the clock by the bedside table and noted the time. It was 3:45 A.M.

She rose from the bed. Maybe he was hungry. She could rustle up something for him to eat in the kitchen.

As she stepped out of the bedroom door, Hunter came into view. He looked whacked and out-of-sorts. Noelle's heart melted. He really was putting his all into the coming race.

"Hi," Noelle greeted him softly.

Hunter looked at her like she was a stranger. His eyes were troubled.

"What's wrong?" Noelle asked worriedly.

"This..." he replied abruptly, shoving a broadsheet into her hand.

It was one of those found in supermarket checkout lanes with sensational headlines written in capital letters and screaming red colors that caught the eye.

This article was written in a guess-who style.

Who is the aspiring senatorial candidate recently married in lavish ceremonies attended by NYC's who's who? Based on surveys, he has the most chance of landing a seat in the U.S. Senate. Information we received from an anonymous tipper indicates that the beautiful young wife is not exactly on the up-and-up and was possibly an illegal alien before the marriage happened. While this is all moot and academic, his having married her, it begs the question: did our would-be senator break any laws? Did he pull a fast one on the legal system of the United States? What was the motive behind the sudden wedding? Is there more to the story?

Noelle felt the air sucked out of her body. It was clear who the article was referring to. Only her name and Hunter's name were missing.

"Who could have done this?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied frostily, "Maybe a rival... I don't know. The timing is just so shitty."

"Diggs? It had to be him. He came by at the café a second time. He called me names, and I slapped him," Noelle replied, remembering the incident.

Hunter looked frozen.

"Maybe this is all there is?" She muttered weakly. "It's just a tabloid. People don't usually believe stories of this kind."

"Normally, I wouldn't care. But there's no way of knowing if this would get picked up by the local paper. Shit like this is likely to derail all my plans." He said coldly.

"What are we gonna do?" Fear was written all over her face.

He said nothing, gave a drawn-out sigh, and shook his head. Then he entered the bedroom and left her standing by the door.

Noelle felt confused... and so guilty. If the repercussions from the broadsheet affected her husband in any way, she was to blame. He had worked so hard for everything, just to fall apart this early in the race.

She followed him inside and noticed that he headed straight for the bed. His clothes lay in a pile near the foot of the bed. She gathered them and placed everything in the hamper before she approached the bed and climbed in. His back was turned towards her side. Noelle knew he was still upset.

She reached out and caressed the muscle on his back. It was then she realized how tense and stiff he was. She inched closer and kissed the side of his face.

"Hunter, talk to me, please." She begged.

She wrapped her arms around his chest and snuggled closer. She felt him stiffen and draw away from her.

"I'm tired. I have a long day tomorrow. Good night, Noelle." He retorted coldly.

He could have slapped her, and it still wouldn't be as painful as the rebuff. For the first time in their marriage, Noelle felt like an interloper, an unwanted guest who should have just stayed out of his life.

***

After spending a sleepless night beside Hunter, who managed to doze off despite the bad news, Noelle rose to find him gone. She knew that he was angry and upset. Reason said it wasn't her fault. But she couldn't help feeling that Hunter blamed her somehow.

She was wary about calling him and asking if there were any other developments. She decided to call Lisa. She would know.

"Yes, it's on page six of today's paper, I'm afraid."

Noelle's heart sunk. "What do they intend to do?"

"Hunter's advisers think it would be best to fund an anonymous survey. See what people think about this whole shitty situation."

"Oh, God, Lisa. This is all my fault."

"Hush child. This is not your fault at all. It's only on page six. It will probably have a small effect but not enough to derail him completely. Keep your fingers crossed, okay?"

The days that followed were like torture as she waited for word from Lisa. When it finally came, she was light-headed with relief. The good news was the survey Hunter's group conducted only indicated a slight dip in his popularity rating. All wasn't lost. But the rift between them felt wider somehow.

Two weeks before the start of the campaign season, the bombshell dropped.

# Chapter Fourteen

Noelle still hadn't gotten used to the constant presence of reporters and photographers outside Eats Well café. Like hounds on the trail of blood, paparazzi made it their business to know her daily activity.

When anyone closely resembling the press came in on the pretext of ordering food, she made herself scarce and exited through the back door. She felt like a specimen under a microscope.

Since the initial frenzy of her wedding preparation, as well as Hunter's ensuing campaign, Noelle hired an additional crew to help Miranda daily. The girl insisted that she could manage, but Noelle felt guilty about leaving her alone. Noelle's constant absences brought out Miranda's creative spirit in the café operations, leading to the confidence to manage efficiently without her. Noelle owed her a lot. She would have closed shop a long time ago if it weren't for her friend.

Miranda sensed there was something more to Noelle's revulsion for the press. Miranda took it upon herself to relieve the added pressure of dealing with the paparazzi's unceasing attention. Regular exchanges of heated words, expletives spewing, plus the threat of thwacking them with her cast-iron pan kept the nosy reporters at bay.

They moved to the other side of the road. The street became the invisible barrier that gave Noelle a false sense of security, but it was hardly enough for the privacy she wanted. Long-range camera zoom lenses recorded every move they made.

She cursed Diggs for all this unwarranted attention. It had his signature all over it. The bastard must have made a deal with an equally sleazy reporter and gotten money for it. The fact that the story was picked up by a legitimate local paper was unexpected.

"Must have been a slow day at the office," she mumbled bitterly, not realizing that everything concerning Hunter Blackwell always fed the media's interest.

The paparazzi's presence wasn't all she had to bear.

Her being pregnant was still a secret. She desperately wanted to share the news with her husband but didn't know how. There was a wall between them that was difficult to explain. It resembled a silent accusation that she was to blame somehow as he doubled his efforts to regain lost ground. Even inside their bedroom, she felt the distance. Hunter was like a cliffhanger, always taking the farthest side of the bed away from her.

That hurt her intensely. But she put on a brave front for his sake.

_All of this will blow away soon._ Optimism kept her going. Things will change once he got elected.

Noelle and Miranda stared warily when a nondescript white van made a sudden stop in front of the café. Two burly men in black jackets stepped out and headed straight for their entrance. The arrival caused an immediate stir in the horde across the street. Noelle soon realized why. The word POLICE was emblazoned on the backs of the jackets.

"Miranda Okafor!" One of the men inquired in a loud voice.

Noelle was on her feet and went to meet them. She happened to glance at Miranda. The girl had turned ashen.

"How can I help you, Officers?"

"We're looking for Miranda Okafor. Please identify her for us."

Noelle sensed they already knew who Miranda was. Both officers had their eyes locked on her. What alarmed her was the way the officers had their hands on the holster of their guns like they were expecting trouble.

"Miranda?" Noelle threw her a puzzled look. What could these men possibly want from Miranda?

The girl was rooted to the spot, her eyes like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

"Miranda Okafor, you are charged with unlawful entry into the United States. Come with us, please."

The request was at once followed by handcuffs slapped on Miranda's wrists.

"You will spend the night in a detention facility until an Immigration Judge hears your case. You will be notified about succeeding hearings or immediately sent back to Nigeria."

Miranda started to cry, a cry that turned to a heartrending wail. Noelle was so confused that she hardly heard the words the officers said. It was as if it was happening in a movie but in slow motion. Police were ushering Miranda to the door, Miranda looking at her helplessly, her face begging for help - it all felt surreal.

"WAIT!"

Noelle scrambled after the officers, just as they reached the door. The burlier of the two tried to block her way. Noelle pushed him aside in a desperate attempt to grab on to Miranda. A scuffle ensued. The next thing she knew, both police officers had their guns pointed at her.

She embraced Miranda tightly, unwilling to let go. This was all a mistake. She needed to let the officers know. But they just seemed overly aggressive.

"Please," Noelle begged, clinging to Miranda even tighter. "You must be mistaken. She works for me." Noelle attempted to explain.

Miranda was bawling. The same burly guy, who tried to block her way, forcefully removed her, pulling her arms away from Miranda and holding her around the waist. Then he bodily dragged Noelle away.

"NO!" Noelle screamed as Miranda was loaded inside the van that immediately sped away.

She stayed rooted to the spot, crying helplessly, until the van disappeared. It was only later in the evening that she realized that the whole incident was recorded and landed on the primetime news on national television.

# Chapter Fifteen

"What were you thinking?" Hunter questioned with eyes blazing. His voice resounded angrily against the walls of the mansion.

Noelle was spent from crying. She didn't have the energy to think of a reply that could lessen his fury. He had been ranting for half an hour. No explanation satisfied his wrath.

"People now think you coddle illegal aliens," he sputtered, "Do you even know what that means?"

Noelle nodded in defeat. The insult was flagrant. He must really think she was that stupid not to understand anything that just happened.

Even her explanation that she met Miranda on the same morning, he came barging into her door just wasn't good enough.

"She needed my help. I just couldn't let her bleed to death outside my door," Noelle replied indignantly.

He accused her and said that it was a wrong judgment taking someone in, even if she was sick and bleeding.

Noelle was shocked. But Hunter wasn't even halfway finished with her.

"Do you have any idea how you must have looked getting into a brawl with the police?"

"I was just trying to protect her. They were taking her away, and she was so frightened."

"Noelle," he retorted with sarcasm, "Do I need to remind you that you are my wife? I am running for Senator. Your actions reflect on me as a candidate. Elections are in two weeks. How am I supposed to deal with the repercussions? I'm sure to lose everything I've worked for all these months."

There it was clear as day. His main concern was out in the opening.

"No. There's no need to remind me of it at all. You stand to lose everything, and it's my doing. You've made it clear right from the very start. The wedding, the honeymoon, everything was about your campaign and your desire to become Senator." Noelle replied, sarcasm dripping in her voice.

This wasn't about Miranda. He showed no interest in finding out where she was taken. Nor was this about Noelle and the scuffle that made her look like a punk on the news. This was all about him, his ambition, and his dream.

Hunter rose to leave.

"Where are you going?" Noelle asked softly.

Hunter glared at her, rolled his eyes, and huffed.

"I'm going to see James Powell and see if there's anything more I can salvage from all the mess YOU have made," Hunter replied with scorn.

It was the most belittling statement he ever made about her. Noelle realized this was the end. Hunter will never forgive her. There was only one thing left to do. It crushed her thinking about it, but he left her with no choice.

"If it will help salvage anything for you, tell James Powell I'm leaving you first thing in the morning."

Her pronouncement hardly made an impact on him. He looked at her blankly, as if she didn't exist.

After he left, Noelle dropped to the floor and wept. She felt like a piece of nothing because she really was nothing in his eyes. Just an expensive accessory he thought he needed but no longer had any use for. There was nothing more for her in this house.

She entered the bedroom, packed a few things, and went to collect her son.

# Chapter Sixteen

The cottage at Bay Shore was by no means big compared to the estate at the Hamptons. But it was comfortable and cheap. The end of the tourist season ensured there would be fewer chances of someone recognizing her.

Noelle watched as Nikko frolicked in the nearby sand. She was reading today's paper that she picked up from a local grocery store. She devoured every article she could find about Hunter.

She missed him terribly and wondered if he ever thought about her. _In all probability, not at all._ It horrified her to learn how badly he was doing in the race. After the scandal that ensued with the police brawl and the media calling her protector of illegal aliens, reports predicted he was going to lose. And it was all because he married her. That scenario blew up in his face.

Noelle read the latest article that showed Hunter talking to a group of young people in the ghetto. His eyes seemed animated enough, but he looked tired and lost. An arm was placed around a young boy's shoulder. Noelle's heart melted in pity. If he lost the election, it was a burden she would carry for the rest of her life.

The day after she left with Nikko, Hunter called incessantly. She refused to take his calls and eventually turned off her mobile. She wasn't ready to talk to him yet. She suspected it was to discuss the terms for their divorce. The thought chilled her to the bones. She had to face that fact soon. But for now, she just wasn't ready.

Her immediate plans were to get as far away from New York as she possibly could. Canada looked promising. It would be a fresh start away from everything.

"Whatcha reading, Mommy?" Nikko's tiny voice pulled her away from her reverie.

She showed him the photo of Hunter in the newspaper.

"That's Uncle Hunter," Nikko said with glee.

"Yes, it is, honey. I'm afraid he's not doing too well and may lose the election because of me."

"Did you do something bad?" Nikko asked innocently.

"Not bad, sweetie. I just tried to protect Miranda, and people thought I was doing something bad. Now they don't like Hunter because of what I did."

"I miss her," the boy said ruefully. Then his eyes lit up. "Why don't you tell people what you did for Miranda was not bad? Then maybe they will like Uncle Hunter again."

Noelle smiled at the precocious suggestion. If only life was as simple as a little boy's brain.

Then it suddenly hit her. There was something she could do after all. Nikko hit the nail on the head.

Noelle rushed back into the house and searched for the telephone directory. She scrolled through several pages before she found what she was looking for. She reached for the phone and cradled the receiver against her shoulder as she dialed the number. After the second ring, the line was picked up by a female voice. Noelle introduced herself and was soon talking to the Editor-in-Chief of CNBD Networks – the largest media conglomerate on the East Coast.

***

Noelle ran a tongue over dry lips. She never thought she would have to face the media again. But this press conference was one she specifically asked for. After many callbacks from the Editor-in-Chief, they finally agreed to her terms. She wanted as many press reporters as possible, and the network would have the first option to ask any questions they wanted.

Noelle agreed. She let them sort out all the details.

Noelle arrived at the lobby of The Westin with the Editor-in-Chief in tow. She was taken aback by the spectacle. There was a circus atmosphere as the media frenzy announced her arrival. Television remote vans with satellite dishes bearing logos of different networks were parked across the street, occupying two blocks from the hotel. Hordes of paparazzi stalked her arrival. Flashbulbs blinded her as she made her way to the conference room.

Inside, things were even more chaotic. A rostrum occupied the center of a small stage, and this was where the Editor-in-Chief led her. Reporters packed the room from wall to wall, even as TV cameras recorded her entrance into the room. Metallic feedback from a microphone announced the start of the press con.

"Silence, please," the Editor requested the crowd, who immediately settled down. "As you all know, Mrs. Noelle Mancini-Blackwell is here to share her side of the story. We will give her that opportunity, and she will be answering some questions from the media after she has made her announcement. Mrs. Blackwell, please proceed."

Noelle took the mic and breathed deeply; the sound of her sigh magnified a hundred times. She looked at the faces eagerly waiting what she had to say.

"First of all, I want you to know that I don't like you people very much," she started cheekily.

That elicited laughter from the crowd, enough to set her at ease.

"There have been a series of events in the past days that have raised questions about my husband's integrity and his desirability as a public official. I want to reassure you that he is as honorable as the position he is aspiring for. You are all aware of the vast wealth behind the Blackwell name. Hunter does not need this position. Why should he want to shoulder the burden of poverty, a poor educational system, unequal opportunities, social security, tax cuts, and gun control? Do you? Because I surely don't."

This drew more laughter from the audience.

"This is a thankless job where every mistake is magnified, and every good act becomes insignificant. But Hunter Blackwell wants to serve. He dreams of conditioning every child's mind to dream big, to overlook obstacles, to fly and be the best child that he or she can be. That is what he wants to do."

She paused dramatically before proceeding.

"I have made some mistakes, bad decisions that have affected the course Hunter wants to follow. But I own up to those mistakes because it was done out of kindness and compassion. Miranda Okafor is not a criminal. She was a victim of circumstances in Nigeria. It was my fault that I took her in without knowing more about who she was. Yes, she was an illegal immigrant, but she is also a person who works hard, who is honest, and who had my back when times were tough. She is my friend and one I dearly love and miss. Hunter Blackwell is innocent. He helped me when I needed it the most. I am appealing to you all. Vote for him not because his life resembles some form of entertainment fodder that makes mediocre lives easier to accept, but because once he is seated in that office as your elected senator, I guarantee, your lives will become better. And that's a promise."

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed her impassioned speech.

Then suddenly... bedlam.

"Mrs. Blackwell, how did you meet your husband...?"

"Have you heard from Miranda...?"

"How did she end up working for you...?"

"Is it true you were having immigration problems about your own stay here...?"

"Did you marry him for his money...?"

Media bombarded with questions all around.

Noelle gamely answered, bringing all of them along with her journey. They felt compassion for Miranda, swooned over her initial meeting with Hunter, laughed uproariously about his remark about not knowing how to boil water, and her initial suspicion that he was a restaurant spy out to steal her recipes. Noelle took them with her memories of the first dance, their first kiss, the wedding, and the honeymoon in Paris. She spared no details. An open book had no secrets.

They lapped up her story like it was their own. Noelle knew that she had finally won over the press to her side. She hoped it was enough to turn the tide for Hunter.

"Mrs. Blackwell! Mrs. Blackwell!" A voice from the back screamed to be heard.

Noelle smiled, thinking it was another journalist with another juicy question for her to answer. She acknowledged the upraised hand at the back, as the horde of reporters parted and made way for their colleague to come forward.

It wasn't a reporter, after all. It was a man wearing a hotel uniform. He eagerly grabbed a mic and asked.

"Mrs. Blackwell, do you know that your husband is on TV at this very moment?"

"What?" Noelle was caught by surprise.

There was a mad scramble from those present in search for the TV remote. A flurry of hands passed along a narrow object until it reached one nearest the flat screen. A click, then it came to life and revealed Hunter's face. But it was the tail end of his statement everyone heard.

"...So, it is with a heavy heart, and after much soul-searching, I am declaring my withdrawal from this campaign. My wife has suffered tremendously over the negative publicity that has hounded us for the last few weeks. It has driven a wedge between us. I have decided that she is the most important person in the world to me. Success is meaningless without her by my side. I love you, Noelle. Please come home."

Noelle felt tears well up in her eyes and felt all her love for Hunter in that single moment. She knew that he was the one for her. "Where is he?" she asked tremulously.

"I believe he's in the penthouse suite of this hotel. I encountered the camera crew that recorded..." The man in the hotel uniform replied.

Noelle didn't wait to hear the rest of his account. She rushed out, followed by a procession of reporters with cameras still rolling. There was a chaotic sprint for elevators to ferry them to the penthouse.

Noelle was stunned at the coincidence. This had to be fate playing a hand, sparing her from a curveball, and tossing a straight one in her direction. It could have ended as a cruel joke. But it wasn't. Hunter just announced on national television that he loved her... HE LOVED HER.

Noelle found herself gently pulled by the arm. It turned out to be the man in uniform who admitted he was a bellhop who worked at The Westin.

"He's in there," he announced excitedly, pointing to a closed door.

Noelle pushed the door open without bothering to knock. Hunter instantly looked at her, and their eyes met for a second. The second that felt like an eternity, and at that moment, they had communicated all that was to be said soon after.

"Noelle?" Hunter exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing...?"

Noelle rushed to him and said, "Oh, you crazy, crazy man. Why did you do that?'

She fell into his arms and sobbed as the whole world witnessed the look of tenderness that shone brightly in her husband's eyes.

# Chapter Seventeen

Somewhere in the heart of the 'hood, a young boy of fourteen powered up his Mac. It was an expensive gift from the man who was running for senator. The man talked about his dreams for the youth of America. They even had their picture taken together. It came out in the newspaper.

Elijah Jackson was one of the many boys from the Bronx who loved basketball and played the trumpet like a pro. But Elijah was a difficult child, prone to temper tantrums. He consistently performed poorly in school, to his mom's disappointment. She was a waitress and lived in a rundown apartment with Elijah. Both mother and son were in a constant battle over the idea of going to school.

A guidance counselor suggested that Elijah should be tested to understand his dislike for school. Maybe he had to be brought down to a lower level because he couldn't cope. They were all staggered by the results. Elijah had an IQ of 140. He was bored with school because it didn't give him the challenge his brain needed.

Hunter heard about Elijah's story when he came to visit. He sought out Elijah's mom and promised to send the boy to a school that catered to children with unique abilities.

Elijah and his mom were one of the thousands who stayed glued to the television as Noelle and Hunter's story unfolded in their living room.

"Such a waste," Mom murmured. "He would have made a great senator."

"Yeah," Elijah agreed.

In his room with the Mac screen glowing in the dark, Elijah began to work. His fingers flew deftly over the keys. Satisfied at what he had done, he uploaded it to Facebook and tagged a few of his friends. His friends read the message and, moved by Elijah's story, shared it with their friends. Their friends read it and passed it on to brothers, sisters, uncles, aunties, nephews, and nieces too.

Elijah created a Petition to convince Hunter Blackwell to continue his run for the Senate seat.

In less than an hour, the petition had been liked and shared and had over a hundred thousand signatures. In twenty-four hours, it had gone viral. It was like a forest fire that refused to die down, triggering an avalanche of viral sharing never seen before in the digital world.

After forty-eight hours, Elijah knew that he had something. He asked his mom for bus fare and headed straight to the sixty-story structure of steel and glass with an iconic courtyard. He asked directions to Mr. Blackwell's office and was told where to go.

A fierce-looking woman met him. When he told her what he had done, the woman gaped at him in surprise before squeezing the air out of his lungs in a giant bear hug.

# Chapter Eighteen

Noelle lay sprawled in bed. Every fiber in her body was still humming from the last orgasm. Make-up sex was always the best.

Hunter gathered her in his arms and kissed the top of her head.

"Was that good for you?" He teased her.

"Mmmmm, just as good as hearing you say you love me on national TV."

Hunter did not reply. Instead, he reached for her chin, raised her face to his, and kissed her tenderly.

"Why did you do it, Hunter?"

He didn't need to be told what she was referring to.

"Because I realized after you left that nothing was worth it if I lost you. You mean everything to me, Noelle – more than my ambition, more than my life. All of this means nothing if I don't have you by my side."

Noelle felt like she had died and gone to heaven. It was all too good to be true. She hoped that if this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.

Suddenly, Hunter crouched down beside her and placed his ear on her tummy.

"Do you think he or she can hear me?" he asked.

Wonder and adoration suffused his face. The same look he got when she told him that she was carrying his baby. He was hesitant to make love, thinking he might hurt the baby. It took Noelle guile and cunning to get him to bed. The bedroom had been their haven for the last two days, their own little world, where the only thing that mattered was him and her.

"I really don't think anything the size of a peanut would even have ears yet," Noelle replied.

"But I can hear the baby talking," he insisted.

"That's only me. My tummy is grumbling because I'm hungry again." Noelle grimaced.

Hunted clambered up and headed for the house phone.

"I'll ask the chef to whip up..."

He never finished the sentence. The door was flung open unceremoniously.

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WOMAN! DON'T YOU EVER REALLY KNOCK?" A series of profanities followed as Hunter scrambled to the bathroom to hide his naked body.

Lisa flicked a wrist in his direction dismissively

"Go find something to hide your bushwhacker and come here. Something great just happened."

Noelle giggled as she twisted and grabbed a sheet to cover herself.

Hunter emerged from the bathroom with a scowl.

Lisa had bundles of paper in her hand.

"What are these?" Hunter asked darkly, mortification written all over his face.

"Your ticket to the senate," Lisa answered simply before recounting the whole story

Noelle and Hunter listened with amazement. It was unbelievable.

"How did this happen?" Hunter muttered after a few seconds of stunned silence. "But I said I wasn't running anymore."

"Hunter, there are over 8 million signatures in this petition. That represents two-thirds of the entire population of New York City," Noelle announced going through the pages.

Indecision was still written on Hunter's face.

"Noelle and I will talk about it," he finally declared to Lisa.

Before Lisa exited the door, she looked back at him and remarked, "This is all you ever wanted. You'd be an idiot not to heed the people's call."

Lisa smiled. She knew him better than he knew himself. She knew that he would make the right decision.

# Epilogue

The Gulfstream touched down on the asphalt runway, sending small particles of stone flying away from its path.

Inside the air-conditioned waiting room, Noelle watched the plane's progress as it came to a halt at the end of the runway, before making a 90-degree turn and headed towards the hub.

Earlier, a motley group of reporters spotted their arrival and followed them inside, curious about their presence at the airport.

"Senator Blackwell, are you expecting someone important? That's your private airplane, isn't it?"

Noelle cocked an ear for Hunter's reply. She, too, was in the dark on why he asked her to come. She thought, just like the reporter did, that it was for an important dignitary. But she immediately recognized the private plane when it came in for a landing.

"Guys, guys really," Hunter replied, palms out, warding them off. "It's no one important. You're wasting your time. But if you hurry on to the next terminal, I think that was Kim Kardashian's limo right behind mine."

The reporters looked at one another and made a mad rush outside.

Hunter joined Noelle and placed an arm around her waist. She glanced at him and read the poker face.

"You jerk!" she tittered, "sending those men on a wild goose chase."

"It was the only way they'd leave us alone." Hunter quipped.

"Uh-huh. But mind telling me who we're meeting exactly? You've been acting weird since this morning."

"You'll see," he replied mysteriously.

The nose of the jet was only a few meters away from the glass window where they stood. Noelle heard that whiny metallic sound before its engine was turned off.

In the silence that followed, Noelle glanced up at her husband. There was something on her mind, and now was a good time as any to ask.

"What do you think happened to Diggs? I never heard from him again."

Hunter grimaced, liked she mentioned some bad news. Then he exhaled loudly and replied, "I think he was wise enough to look for the deepest, darkest hole he could find after I got elected senator."

Noelle felt intense relief. She doubted Diggs would show his face around here ever again. Not with a powerful man in office to protect her. She reached for his hand and squeezed, telling him she understood.

Hunter guided her towards a small doorway that led to the tarmac. They walked a few meters and stood at the foot of the jet.

Noelle looked up curiously. She still didn't have a clue.

The door opened with an audible hissing sound.

A woman's silhouette came into view. She wore a loose-fitting blouse with a V-shaped neckline and long sleeves. The white blouse ended lower than the waistline. A long wrap-around skirt with birds-of-paradise patterns was enhanced with a rectangular piece of cloth wrapped around the waist and hips and tucked in at the end. Her hair was encased in a headdress that bore the same color pattern as the skirt.

She looked uncertain as she stood there by the door. It was Noelle's cry that got her attention.

"Miranda!"

Miranda came running down the steps and straight into Noelle's arms. They hugged each other, never wanting to let go. Tears streamed down both of their faces as they gibbered at the same time.

Noelle knew this was all because of Hunter. He must have searched for Miranda in Nigeria, arranged for her papers, and brought her back home to Noelle. Now, her family was complete.

Holding on to Miranda's hand, she turned to him with tears of happiness flowing down her face. She leaned in close and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you," she murmured into his ear.

"I love you, Noelle, and I will do anything to make you happy," Hunter whispered back as he held her close to him.

*****

THE END

