Tomas (Members From Money Season 2 #164)

Chapter 1

Seagulls dipped and soared, calling out their inimitable cries as the white-capped waves crested restlessly, water foaming at the edge of the white-tipped sand.

The sky overhead had a weird pearl-gray look with angry darker clouds skimming across the surface, a clear indication that the clouds were heavy with rain.

To the solitary woman walking on the beach, none of that registered.

The wind had picked up since she stepped outside, whipping her long, waist-length hair into a frenzy and tangling the strands even more.

The beach robe she had donned over the leggings and T-shirt was of little covering against the bite of the wind.

But she was numb to all of it. Tears gathered at the backs of her eyes and, with the sheer will she had been born with, thirty two-year-old Antoinette Elaine Carter refused to allow them to fall.

Her life was in shambles, and her heart was broken in pieces, but she refused to give the spineless, cheating, worthless bastard the satisfaction of falling to pieces and crying over him.

Tugging the lapels of her robe around her, she made her way to the rocks jutting from the adjoining woods and sat facing the turbulent water.

It was peaceful here. The beach house had been in her family for several years, but she had been too busy to take advantage of its beauty.

It wasn't the best time for a visit, or it was, considering her state of mind.

Summer had turned into fall, or just the edge of it, and the vacationers had all gone back to their homes, leaving her to wallow in her misery in private.

She had turned off her phone as well, to ensure she was not receiving any calls from the spineless bastard she had the lack of good judgment to end up with.

Her former best friend had been calling as well. As far as she was concerned, Sheryl was dead to her. They both were. She had told them that in a very nasty voice message just a day ago.

It was one week already, seven days since she had decided to surprise the bastard by cooking him soup and taking it to him.

She had believed him when he called out sick from the office and told her he did not want her catching what he had.

There was no likelihood of that happening, she thought bitterly, her eyes following the path of the seagull as it dipped and rose majestically.

What he had was a severe case of not being able to keep his dick from wandering.

She wanted to laugh as she recalled the look of shock and dismay on both their faces as she pushed open the door and discovered them in flagrante delicto, such a delightful term for such an awful act.

She should have seen the signs and paid more attention to the fact that her former best friend could not stop talking about how lucky Antoinette was to find such a gorgeous man, one who was in a management position and one who seemed so committed to her.

She had foolishly basked in the admiration and compliments, never realizing that what she heard was pure and unadulterated envy.

Well, the bitch was welcome to the bastard.

And thank God, she had the presence of mind never to reveal the location of this place, not once during their year-long relationship.

Sheryl only knew that she had beachfront property but had no idea where. So, she was safe here.

She had turned in her resignation from the very lucrative position as administrative assistant to the CEO of the very company where her former fiancé Brian was in management.

Her boss had been very supportive and understanding, and even though he had been sorry to see her go, he had accepted the resignation.

What choice did he have? Brian was not only in management, but he was also Claude's first cousin.

Family trumped strangers any time. Besides, she would not have been comfortable working there anymore. The thought of Sheryl made her yank at a blade of grass viciously, crumpling it in her palm. As for that duplicitous bitch, she could just rot in hell.

"I'm sorry! I did not want to fall in love with him, but I just could not help myself. Brian and I clicked, and you were working so hard--"

"So this is my fault?" Antoinette stared at the slender woman in disgust. "You're putting it on me?

The fact that you slept with my fiancé, it happens to be my fault entirely.

Is that what you're saying? How long?" She supposed she had looked so murderous that fear flickered in the other woman's eyes.

"I don't think--"

"You'd better tell me, or so help me God, I'm going to yank out those braids from the roots. How long, damn you?"

"Three months! I'm so sorry."

The pain had cut through her body like a laser. While she had been busy planning a wedding with the assistance of her best friend, the woman and her fiancé had been having an ongoing affair behind her back. It made her physically ill to think about it. She had to get away.

So here she was, feeling empty and lost and wondering why she had missed the signs. She was highly intelligent and independent. She had previously held an exalted position in one of the top engineering companies in the US.

She had two degrees, one in computer science and the other in languages.

She spoke four languages fluently and had a working knowledge of two others.

She was attractive, some might say beautiful, or at least that was what that soulless bastard had kept telling her.

She was a plus-sized black woman, but that had never bothered her in the least.

She was a firm believer that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes.

She had never envied her friend for being a size two.

She was confident and wore her clothes very well.

She had enough money to buy the best, and there was a section of Romano's completely dedicated to women like her.

The clothes were expensive, but they flattered her curves.

Her skin was a flawless cocoa brown, and she had been told she had beautiful eyes.

But in one shocking and debilitating moment, the two people she considered closest to her had reduced her to a state of utter insecurity.

Now she was searching for flaws where before she had not seen any.

She was spending time wondering if she was too big, too everything.

She questioned whether the fact that she had had just two lovers, including the bastard she had been engaged to, meant she was inadequate in bed. She had questioned the fact that she had never managed to get full satisfaction while in bed with him, and he had passed it off as a joke.

"When you're with me, I get the feeling you're thinking of some unfinished tasks at the office," he had often teased her.

Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes briefly.

It was time to start picking up the pieces and moving on with her life.

A pang of misery and pain settled inside her belly as she thought of the mother she had lost just two years ago.

It had just been the two of them since she had lost her father to an aneurysm ten years ago.

Now she was truly alone, and the pain of it combined with the betrayal from two people she thought she could trust was something that would take a long time to get over.

*****

"You might as well ditch the jacket, darling." Ionie waved a long-fingered hand as she walked into the blue and white salon, a smile lurking around her pouty lips. "This is an informal interview." She perched daintily on the edge of the silk sofa and handed the glass of wine to Antoinette.

Accepting the glass, Antoinette put it aside and shrugged off the jacket before picking up the glass and taking a sip. "I thought we were meeting at the office."

"This one is off the books, and besides, I thought you would be more comfortable here."

"I really appreciate the gesture." Settling back against the plump cushion, Antoinette let out a pent-up breath. "When you called, I was on the verge of trying to convince myself that I should stay in Maine, just relaxing for a few weeks or even months to see if I could get my head on straight."

"The loser still calling?"

"Yes." Taking another fortified sip of the wine, she stretched her legs out. "He wants to make amends, explain." Antoinette snorted. "As if there's any way he could explain away what I saw." She shrugged and lifted her chin. "I'm ready to start the next chapter of my life."

Ionie's tinkling laughter sounded around the room. "Just what I wanted to hear. It so happens that I have the perfect solution to your problem."

"I'm listening."

"Ever heard of Perez Paraiso?"

Antoinette wrinkled her brow slightly. "It sounds familiar. I know Paraiso is Spanish for paradise."

"Perhaps this will jar your memory." Rising gracefully, Ionie went to the end table and picked up a magazine and brought it over. "Page five."

She went back to sit and waited until Antoinette had leafed through the glossy tabloid.

"It's a village in Spain."

"More like a sovereignty. It's more than a village, honey, and is run by Queen Sofia Gabriella Garcia-Perez.

Her husband, the king, died of a heart attack while sailing the Mediterranean Sea with one of his many mistresses.

The man was a pig, but a very handsome one.

But rumor had it that the monarchy was controlled by his wife.

She took over fully after he died. It's a small place, but it's a literal paradise, as the name suggests.

"The queen is a whip-smart businesswoman and has turned what was a flagging city into one of the most lucrative in that area of Spain.

They're famous for handling thousands of tourists year-round.

The family, which includes the queen and her son, Prince Tomas Diego Luis Perez, are multi-billionaires.

They have their hands in many pies, including banking, restaurants, energy, an airline and most recently a vineyard. How's the wine?"