Chapter 4
Northern California
“All I see, Evan, are flashes of my estate in the British Isles.” Amanda shrugged, reluctantly turning away from the sun that had been warming her face, and disappointed because it had felt like the first moment of real calm in the weeks since she’d returned home.
“Callie and I leaving. Sam. Stan.” She opened her eyes and looked down. Scratch-like scars marred her ring finger and the top of her left hand. Her wrist was another story. She’d obviously had surgery but couldn’t remember any of it. She turned then and saw him as he came through the French doors.
Montgomery. Mr. Montgomery.
He stared right at her. Rooted her to the spot, actually. He had that effect on her, unlike any other man she’d ever known—or could remember knowing, at least.
With barely a nod to Evan, he walked over to her and looked into her eyes. Deeply, penetratingly. This level of scrutiny was a bit uncomfortable, but she liked the seriousness in which he watched over her and her family.
She’d never experienced anything like it in all her years of fame and stardom, any of the years she’d needed to hire protection, yet something about it felt right.
She couldn’t explain it and honestly wasn’t sure she wanted to.
Amanda chalked it up to a karmic tie because nothing else could explain the deep sense of connection she felt with this near stranger.
For what could have been the hundredth time now, as she was obviously counting, she knew what he asked without him saying it aloud.
“I’m okay,” she said, answering his unspoken question. His eyes softened. “It’s nice to be outside.” She crinkled her nose. “Even with you know who”—Amanda motioned with her head toward Evan, who was sitting at the large table on the terrace—“as my constant shadow.”
“It’s necessary.” He reached out to inspect each of her wrists, his fingers skimming the discoloration, which had lightened to a pale yellow. Then his large hand wrapped around her shoulder and gently squeezed. “Would you care for a reprieve?”
“Oh, yes,” she returned, rather animatedly. “Please.”
“Come.” He led her inside, nodding to her in-house psychiatrist as they passed him.
“We’ll speak later, Amanda,” Dr. Childress called after them.
“Of course we will, Evan,” she answered back.
Helen was reading quietly on the sofa in the large sitting room adjacent to the kitchen. A Moses basket lay atop the large coffee table in front of her, Zander sleeping inside.
Amanda and Mr. Montgomery reached for the baby at the same time.
His long arms beat her to it, but after a quick press of his lips to Zander’s crown, he placed her baby in her arms, nestling him perfectly in the crook of her neck and at the proper angle for her to wrap her arm about him.
Amanda turned to check the time where an oversized clock hung above the fireplace.
“O-seven hundred.”
Amanda grinned. “Thank you, Admiral.” She watched him pour a large mug of coffee, then look over his shoulder at her and raise an eyebrow, gesturing with the mug. At her returned expression, he chuckled and brought it to her.
Callie came padding into the kitchen then, her favorite stuffed doggy in hand and blanket trailing behind her.
“Morning, Mama…morning, Admiral.” Mr. Montgomery picked her up, his lips brushing her forehead.
Callie settled her face on his shoulder and added two fingers to her mouth as her eyes closed.
It was the sweetest picture. If Amanda had a penny for each tender moment her house seemed to be filled with of late, she’d be a very wealthy woman. Not that she wasn’t already, she thought, laughing a bit to herself. Her thoughts were interrupted when Sam came in.
“Morning,” she said, and Mr. Montgomery poured another cup of coffee, added some half-and-half, and held it out as she passed him. “Thanks, Alex.” Sam took a seat in one of the kitchen’s two large overstuffed chairs.
Stephen, finished with his morning run on the beach, came in through the French doors and took the coffee his brother held out for him. “Hi, monkey,” he said to Callie, who opened her eyes and smiled.
Rosa bustled in then and got busy making a fresh pot of coffee and breakfast.
“Well, now that the gang’s all here,” Amanda said, smiling brightly.
“Did someone say gang?” Stan made a dramatic entrance from the terrace, doing his best TV cop impression. Callie giggled, which was the whole point, and he reached out and tweaked her nose. “I’m out for the next eight,” he said to Stephen. “Want me to wait ’til you’re showered?”
Stephen peered through the window where two more of their guys were stationed out back.
Amanda had seen them earlier. Her estate had become a veritable fortress since the brothers Montgomery took over.
Not that she hadn’t felt safe when it was just Stan in charge.
She had. And, quite frankly, she equated the uptick in security these last few weeks to Mr. Montgomery.
He was, after all, the owner of a company worth hundreds of millions of dollars.
She could only imagine what his net worth must be.
Of course, the man who offered protection, and the best at that, needed to be protected too.
Stephen shook his head. “We’re good. See you tonight.” He held the door open and they all moved back out to the terrace, giving Rosa room to get breakfast together.
Sam lay down on a chaise and pulled up the throw at the end. It was still a bit chilly, and windier than normal. “Did you see the invite, Ammy?”
Amanda knew she was referring to the Night of the Stars charity event. Art Fisher had founded and chaired the gala for over ten years now, honoring and raising money for retired military personnel, wounded warriors and their families, as well as those who’d lost someone in service.
She’d often performed at the affair in the past. This year, however, Amanda was supposed to help with the festivities.
Her name wasn’t listed just in case she wasn’t ready to come out of hiding, but Art had been hoping that after the baby was born, she’d start to take her place once again in society.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Amanda breathed on a sigh. “Didn’t it?”
Sam chuckled. “Yeah, at the time it did.”
Mr. Montgomery leaned against the railing as the sun rose behind him. He made quite the picture. Jeans or trousers, a button-down or a T-shirt, the man may as well have been perennially stepping off the cover of GQ.
“Night of the Stars? I actually have a table for that event,” he told her.
Then he smiled and shook his head, his thick dark hair rustling in the wind.
“Art made me sign a contract that I would continue to be the benefactor and cochair moving forward, until, of course, he decides to retire. At which point, I’ll likely be the official chair.
” His phone rang, then, and after taking the call he said, “Seems I’m heading to the office early. ”
Amanda frowned, a bit sad that he was leaving already.
She watched as he knelt by Callie, who was now resting on the chaise with Sam.
He’d taken to dropping her off at school on his ride into town most mornings.
Amanda couldn’t say it bothered her—she absolutely hated the chaos of school drop-off—and besides, her daughter couldn’t be in better hands.
Callie smiled brightly at something Alex said to her, not that Amanda knew what since they often spoke in another frigging language. Though, it actually was quite comical. Her giggles subsided, and he lay his large hand atop Callie’s head a long moment before coming her way.
“Grab something to eat on the way out,” Amanda said as he stopped to look down at her and gently squeeze her shoulder.
He didn’t move, just continued to stare.
She finally rolled her eyes and smiled again.
“I’m fine. Really.” He smiled back, nodded, and went back inside.
Stephen walked him out and before she knew it, they were having breakfast and getting Callie ready for school. Then the day passed in a whirlwind.
While Callie was at school, Amanda went down to her dance studio.
It was just in the lower level of the house, but it was the first time in the weeks since she’d been home that she’d done something like this.
Turning on some music, she smiled as One Republic’s “Secrets” started playing.
She hit the auto-repeat button and lost herself in the music for close to an hour, wondering just what her secrets were and when she would remember them.
Later that afternoon, Amanda drove with Stephen to pick up Callie from school, elated to resume some semblance of her routine.
Evan’s constant encouragement to pick up where she’d left off and continue to let nature take its course helped.
They ribbed one another, but she really did like him and knew he wanted only what was best for her.
Callie was so happy to see her when her class came outside, she ran the entire way to the car, where Stephen lifted her inside and buckled her in. Amanda wasn’t sure how the name Stephen translated to “Aboon” with Callie’s speech impediment, but it was really cute all the same.
“Can we go swimming after I finish my homework?” Callie asked.
“Of course, sweetie.” Amanda cupped the side of her face. “Now, tell me what you learned today.”
A few hours later, they were in the pool.
Sam joined them, of course, but so did Stephen, and then when Stan came on shift again, and Callie asked him to come in, he didn’t resist. It was a veritable late-afternoon pool party.
There was only one person missing. Al—Mr. Montgomery, she self-corrected.