Back To You Read online

  Back To You

  Bella Fontaine

  Khardine Gray

  Copyright © 2020 by Khardine Gray

  Back to You Copyright © 2020by Khardine Gray

  All rights reserved.

  Please note that Bella Fontaine is a pen name of USA Today Bestselling Author Khardine Gray

  Cover design © 2019 by Net Hook and Line Design

  Photography- Wander Aguiar

  Cover Model - Andrew Biernat and Amber

  This work is copyrighted. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  The author asserts that all characters and situations depicted in this work of fiction are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations.

  It is intended for mature readers. All characters are 18+ years of age and all sexual acts are consensual.

  Contents

  Back To You

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Back To You

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Khardine Gray

  Writing

  as

  Bella Fontaine

  Chapter 1

  Lana

  “Head up. I want the camera to catch your cheekbones,” I instructed Ichika.

  She straightened up, trying to achieve the pose I wanted but it wasn’t quite right.

  She was beautiful and modelled my clothes well. There was just something missing from what I’d wanted her to do.

  I rose from my chair and walked onto the set where I had her standing in the center of a rose garden.

  Amongst the beautiful arrangement of royal blue long stemmed roses I’d had dyed and made for this shoot, she looked stunning wearing the evening gown I designed as part of my Kiss of Mortality collection.

  “Here, focus on this,” I suggested, pointing to the blue macaw on the mural to the left of us.

  It was one of my favorite things to look at in this studio, simply for the fact that it was beautiful and evoked the senses. Anyone looking at it, no matter how many times you saw it would always get that look of awe and wonder.

  I’d had it placed there because it brought a taste of the tropics to D’Angelo, my fashion house that was smack in between Santa Monica and en-route to Hollywood. Life around us couldn’t be any busier than it was.

  Ichika did as I said and a twinkle sparked in her almond shaped eyes when she saw me smile.

  The simple switch in focus to the mural had achieved the look I’d wanted. Now, her head was lifted at the perfect angle and her long, slick, black hair hung perfectly over her shoulder blades.

  Perfect.

  Yes, now she was perfect.

  “I like that,” Carl nodded with a wide grin of admiration for my instructions. He

  was my creative director and right hand man. He knew how I wanted my designs to be portrayed.

  “Great, keep it going guys, try and wrap this up in an hour.” I signaled Pierre,

  my photographer, to carry on shooting and I returned to my chair.

  We’d all been hard at work since four a.m. On a roll with amazing results.

  I’d accepted long ago that I’d fully immersed the fast paced Lifestyle L.A. had to offer. As like you were expected to follow the norm when in Rome, I’d done the same with L.A.

  It was so different to Wilmington, the city where I grew up in North Carolina.

  I gave Carl my thumbs up when he looked over to me. Ichika definitely rocked the dress and the look I was going for. Carl knew that too. The man knew his stuff and was a perfect addition to my team who’d not only help launch my clothing line but also open the fashion house.

  I had a great team and it helped that we shared the zeal for perfection.

  Sometimes though, like today, the zeal for perfection took up a little more time

  than I liked. It didn’t go hand in hand with a busy schedule.

  I rested against the leather back of the chair continuing to watch. I’d be the last to admit when I was tired. It seemed however that I wouldn’t need to admit anything today because exhaustion had come for me.

  Sometimes I couldn’t believe how busy I was.

  I lived and predominantly worked in L.A but it wasn’t uncommon for me to be in New York one day and spend the next day in London or Japan, or God even Bora Bora. I couldn’t keep up with myself.

  I’d just gotten back from a month long trip to Brazil yesterday morning and it was straight to work to prep for the fashion show I was hosting here at the end of the month. This photoshoot was part of the advertising campaign.

  Currently the guest list was a hundred people, and all those people were the cream of the crop in the fashion world. The plan was a series of shows in the buildup to Fashion Week.

  I guess it came all part and parcel of my dreams of being a fashion designer. Couldn’t have everything smooth sailing. I had to take the good parts with the bad too. It was a good thing the good parts mostly outweighed the bad.

  I should have felt happier, and definitely give myself more credit since I’d exceeded the vision of what I’d wanted for myself. In my dreams growing up I’d wanted to work for big designers like Dior, Chanel, Versace and Galliano. I’d done all of that and lived the dream. Never factored in, however, that I could aim higher and be on par with my own brand.

  Lana D’Angelo.

  That was me. The name I gave myself and my brand.

  I’d launched last year when I left Dior and took off like a rocket with my designs and recognition. Then there was the travelling. I liked getting involved with every aspect, so I was always at the photoshoots, always in meetings with fashion magazines and the buyers who took care of my clothing in all the stores and boutiques. Always doing everything.

  Mama would have been so proud of me. So proud.

  I hoped that she was smiling down on me from heaven, seeing that I’d made it through the vicious storms life had tossed me. For a long time I knew there was no way she could rest in peace.

  My life suggested I was okay now. More than okay with my multimillion dollar brand. At thirty-five years old, I was a wealthy, extremely successful, award winning fashion designer.

  I’d made it to the dream. I’d never guessed that could happen to a girl like me who came from nowhere and had to build from the ground up.

  Maybe I wa
s thinking in maybes because every time I thought of my success I imagined life to be different and Mama right next to me. I was still so lost without her.

  Lost, and honestly what I’d classed as keeping my head above water.

  I was at the pinnacle of my career, and always imagined having her share it with me. That part of me never healed when death took her away. The way it did too was something that would always leave a hole in my soul. The kind of hole and void that nothing could fill.

  Movement on the balcony caught my attention and pulled me from my thoughts.

  Georgie. Oh goodness, she was waiting for me.

  Waiting patiently. I’d rescheduled lunch three times already today. A quick glance at my watch showed she would have been waiting at least fifteen minutes. I’d completely lost track of the time.

  Thank God she was used to me. My best friend also happened to have the patience of a saint. I motioned to her and mouthed ‘sorry’. She gave me a salute back in her usual good-natured way and I chuckled.

  Looking back to the guys on set, I gave a quick scan of what they were doing. They were more than good to continue without me. Everything was as it should be and Carl was rocking this shoot like nobody’s business. There was no need to encourage my addiction to perfection by hanging around any longer and not taking a break.

  Lunch was calling me along with some much needed girl time with Georgie.

  I made my way up to her on the balcony, planning for a fattening lunch first to make up for the dinner and breakfast I’d missed. When I got back I planned to immerse myself into the glorious world of admin for the rest of the day. I had a ton of contracts to sign off.

  Georgie smiled at me first then made a show of placing her hands on her hips, pretending to be annoyed.

  I laughed at her.

  I hadn’t seen her in a month and I was eager to catch up properly.

  “I’m so sorry, Georgie. God. Time got away from me.” I giggled.

  “Yes, like always.” She shook her head at me and the ends of her salon-perfect hair bounced with life.

  “No, no, not like always. Just today and recently. The months before weren’t so bad.”

  Georgie laughed. “Come here, give me some sugar. I missed your late ass.” She stretched her arms out and I fell into her embrace.

  “I missed you too,” I bubbled, hugging her hard. She was like family to me. Just like family. Like a sister. She’d been a great friend. The kind you know you’ll always have.

  We pulled apart and I looked her over, smiling and loving the fact that my friend looked so good. The newly married Georgina Flynn looked like a million dollars.

  This was what six months of marriage did to her. It made her look more fabulous than she already was. I could definitely see that her husband, Pat, was treating her right. As expected. That man spoiled her rotten and I loved that she’d found a guy who deserved her. Granted it took him awhile to notice that she could be more than just his trusty P.A, slash best friend.

  It was beyond me how they didn’t realize they were in love with each other the whole time she’d worked for him. But such was life.

  Now look at her. Georgie could have easily passed for Naomi Campbell on the runway, with her rich dark skin, sass and sexiness.

  I was proud that most people mistook us for sisters sometimes, because we looked similar with our style and features. Today though, I was sure people wouldn’t make that mistake because I looked so rough.

  “Please tell me you intend to take the full hour, Miss Lady,” she intoned.

  “Absolutely.” I gave her my trademark one shoulder sassy shrug. “And I’m in the mood for a double cheese burger and a triple chocolate milkshake, so we might need to head to Bob’s Diner.”

  “Yay, come on, let’s go.”

  I knew that would make her happy. Just the mention of that place and Georgie would forgive me for anything. She skipped closer to me and linked her arm with mine. We then proceeded out to the corridor.

  “So how is Pat treating you?” I gave her a curious grin. It used to be that I was the one with the guy gossip. Since she got together with Pat, nothing I did came close to gossip worthy. I was more interested in hearing about her.

  “The man is insufferable, Lana. Now he’s talking about kids.” She widened her eyes at me.

  I gasped. “Georgina Flynn that better not be your way of subtly trying to tell me you’re pregnant.”

  She gave me a bashful smile. The same kind she used to give me back in college.

  She did marketing and had the charismatic presence to go with it, but really she was shy as anything.

  “No, but I think this is the start of us trying.” She chuckled.

  “Trying for a baby,” I bubbled bringing my hands together with excitement. “Look at you. I’m so proud. That’s exciting news.” It was and I was genuinely happy for her.

  “I think so. Thank you Lana.”

  She’d gotten married. I had my career. It was supposed to be a win-win situation. People often asked me if I ever had plans to settle down and the short answer would always be yes. The long answer was one I would never attempt to give.

  People assumed that my free spirited dating was down to being busy and they were right to a great extent.

  But… that was because they didn’t know me.

  If I had someone who loved me as much as Pat loved Georgie, he would be my number one. I’d just accepted that what she had was rare and not everyone could have it.

  The heart was complicated. It hung on to things it shouldn’t sometimes. If it had something good once, it was hard to replace it. Especially when you had to give it up.

  That was my theory. That was how I assessed myself. How I coped and what I told myself to make the past okay.

  I was happy with my work and that was enough. It had to be.

  Georgie started talking about her garden as we verged toward the top floor.

  Just before we turned to get into the elevator, Winter called me.

  She rushed up to us carrying a large folder under her arm and an annoyed look spread over her face.

  “Lana, I’m sorry, I know your busy,” she said in a rush.

  “Just going to lunch,” I told her so she wouldn’t feel like she’d disturbed me.

  She was always apologizing for doing so, which bordered on every time she either saw or spoke to me because I was always busy.

  Winter blew out a ragged breath. “Can it wait? There is a really rude man in your office. I was going to call security or even the police with the way he was going on, but I didn’t want to cause any drama.”

  Hearing that someone had been so rude to her pissed me off. She’d been my PA since I opened. She worked hard and did everything I asked her to do.

  “Who is this person?” I demanded. I couldn’t begin to think who it could be.

  “Wouldn’t tell me his name. Just said he was an old friend and he wanted to see you. Now.” Winter widened her bright green eyes and grimaced.

  I glanced at Georgie who looked concerned.

  “How long has he been here?” I asked.

  “Fifteen minutes tops. I told him you were busy. It got so bad I had to head down to see you. I’m sorry. I know how you hate being disturbed during a shoot.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’m sorry you had to deal with such an asshole.”

  Who the hell could it be? People knew not to rub me the wrong way. I wasn’t sure who’d be brave enough to try, and in my own building. I pressed my lips together and looked back at Georgie.

  “Georgie I’m sorry I’m just gonna go see who this is.”

  “By yourself? What if it’s that idiot Tyson?” She blinked several times and looked at me like I should have guessed right off the bat that it could be him.

  Tyson and I dated for three months. That was just before I opened the fashion house. I didn’t think it was him though for the simple fact that I knew too many of his secrets. The kind of secrets the soon-to-be state’s attorney w
ould absolutely not want unleashed.

  Pretty certain that he didn’t want the world knowing he was a pimp.

  Yes, a damn pimp. Boy did I ever have my share of bad luck with men.

  Tyson was right up there with the worst of the bunch. He was engaged now to a woman who looked like a Stepford wife, and lived like he had this clean lifestyle. Georgie must have thought it was him because when I left him the man wouldn’t leave me alone. He went all stalker boy on me.

  “I don’t think Tyson would call himself my friend, and he wouldn’t come here like that.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Georgie insisted, walking ahead of me in the direction of my office.

  I left Winter and caught up with Georgie.

  “Georgie, I’ll go in by myself,” I maintained.

  “No, nobody just goes into someone’s office demanding to speak to them. It sounds weird.” She gave me an incredulous stare.

  I sighed agreeing with her.

  God… what the hell awaited me? I was really hoping I’d just have a nice lunch with my friend and come back to finish up. I had so much to do. So much to organize for the damn show. I didn’t want anything to go wrong.

  We got up to my office and I noticed the door was ajar.

  Assuming dragon bitch mode, I straightened up and pushed it open.

  A tall, muscular man wearing a Boss suit stood by the wall of glass windows with his back to us. Tall and packing the kind of muscle you’d find on an athlete or a military man. The sun beamed down on his neatly-cut, spiky black hair picking out the lighter parts.

  I opened my mouth to speak but the dragon bitch mode façade faded in an instant when he turned around to face me and I saw who he was.