Chapter 8
Nana Malone
To Erik, I love you. You know why.
Thank you so much for reading Illusion of Love. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am Type A to the max! I love rules, plans and schedules. In Illusion of Love, I can feel Val’s pain when she meets her complete opposite, Bennett. He frustrates her and pushes her to step out of the box. As someone who married her total opposite, I’ll tell you, it makes for a fun adventure.
Next up for me—more books, including more Kimani Romances. So sit back, relax and happy reading!
If you want to chat with me, I’m pretty easy to find!
Nana Malone
www.nanamalone.com www.Facebook.com/nanamalonewriter www.Twitter.com/nanamalone
Something was very wrong.
Valentine Anderson shifted in her oh-so-pretty Louboutins as she stared at her boyfriend. He was gesturing nervously and talking. Almost babbling. But try as she might to concentrate, all she heard was a monotone drone. Focus, Val. She forced her ears to pay attention.
“Here’s the thing. I think you’re great... I wasn’t really looking for a relationship...you’re fantastic...it’s not you, it’s me... I really care about you, but I need to find myself.”
The find myself excuse was her personal favorite. Because it invited her to all those ragey places deep inside, where she never allowed herself to go. But then this was the third time she was being dumped on or just before Valentine’s Day. She was allowed to get a little furious...right? Especially because this time she needed a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day.
If she had time to analyze, she’d examine all the possible reasons why her last two boyfriends had dumped her when everything was seemingly fine.
First, there’d been Alejandro. Brazilian. Beautiful, with all that tanned skin and a brilliant smile. He’d claimed that they were getting too serious. He was the first finder of self.
Then there was Tyrell, though, really, she should have known better than to date a professional athlete. Tyrell was a beautiful man. All dark chocolate skin, combined with a wicked smile that was a pure invitation to sin. And sin he had...with her neighbor, and her hairstylist...and her masseuse.
And now James. It was three weeks to go before her sister’s wedding on V Day and here she was hearing all the usual excuses.
“Like I said, I think you’re great. You’re just a bit...rigid for me.”
Her brows snapped down. Say what now? “Rigid?”
He nodded enthusiastically, as if thrilled that she seemed to understand. “Yeah, I mean, you’re a food blogger, so I thought you’d be more adventurous. In and out of bed. I thought we’d do more things and travel more, but you’re really set in your routine.”
Relax your jaw, Val. You keep clenching like this and you’re going to crack a molar...again. “So you’re breaking up with me because I didn’t drop my life at a moment’s notice to go to Montreal with you.”
His eyes widened, as if he suddenly realized this would not be the calm breakup he’d anticipated. “No. Of course not. It’s everything, really.” He held up his hands. “I mean, obviously, we have chemistry. We do, but I need someone who’s more fluid with life and open to ideas. You don’t need me. Hell, you certainly don’t want my opinion...”
As he talked, her mind raced. Yes, it sucked to be dumped. And even more it sucked to be dumped by someone like James. At the end of the day, she’d liked him, but she knew they weren’t going to be a super long-term thing. But he was nice—at least she’d thought he was. But boy, oh, boy, the man whined. A lot.
But he’d been good enough to hang out with and at the very least show up at her sister’s wedding with.
Her sister, Solstice, was getting married in a matter of weeks, and Val knew better than to show up to that wedding alone. No way was she going to yet another family function on her own. To have to endure her mother and aunties and sister bemoaning how she could possibly still be single was a special kind of torture. On her own...unloved. Never mind that she’d tried a million times to tell them that she wasn’t lonely. That she had a perfectly full life with her job and her friends.
But the women in her family were old-school. Not even old-school as much as they defined how happy they could be in life only by what man loved them at the moment. Oh, and God forbid it was the wrong kind of man. Then everyone in the family would descend on him like a pack of vultures, leaving nothing left but a carcass.
James was supposed to be her avoid-criticism card. But now it was go directly to singledom hell. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.
The elevator dinged as James stumbled through his breakup speech, and all she wanted to do was climb into her bed and forget the whole night. That was until she caught sight of her neighbor Bennett Cooper strolling down the hall with a gorgeous brunette in tow.
Cue the grinding teeth again. The guy was the definition of bad neighbor. Loud music. A revolving door of women. Parties that went on all night. He had zero respect.
He also made her edgy. The constant awareness, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, was almost uncomfortable to bear whenever he was around. Every time he was near, she sat on razor’s edge. Val was not a fan.
Maybe it was the way his intense green eyes tracked her, or the tattoos over his tanned flesh and whipcord-lean body with ridiculously defined muscles...if you liked that sort of thing. Her libido sat up and strutted. As if to say, Hello, I like that sort of thing.
There was no way she was going to be humiliated in front of him. She turned to rush James along. “James, if you’re dropping me, say the words and get it over with. I have things to do.”
* * *
Bennett Cooper needed a way out. How the hell had he ended up in this position?
When he’d agreed to a contract with publishing magnate Milton Voss, he’d been thinking of all the ways it would boost his career. Bennett might have the perfect dream job of photographing models, but he wanted more, and Voss could give it to him. For the last week, Bennett had been thinking about all the places he would travel. He’d been thinking this job meant the opportunity to make his father proud. He hadn’t been thinking about Voss’s wife. The same wife who had made a pass at him at his gallery opening last year. He’d managed to extricate himself from that situation, but tonight—tonight was a whole other ball game.
You have options, Ben. He could quit. But that wasn’t in his nature. And he didn’t run from a fight. Except from the unpleasant memories from your past. Damn, he really didn’t need a subconscious battle right now. He needed an escape route.
Grabbing a drink downstairs with the creative director of Voss Magazines had been a good idea. The two of them saw eye to eye on a few things. While Voss owned the usual smatterings of sports magazines and women’s magazines, the real passion in the company