Chapter 5

An involuntary jerk took hold of her limbs. Shock and something else coursed through her body as a dawning realization came to the forefront. It never crossed her mind until then that there may be another woman in his life. Else, why would he be thinking about something as mundane as lipstick?

She slid her gaze away. Futilely, she tried to quell the rising discomfort in the pit of her stomach. It made complete sense for Micah to be involved with another female after all this time. Some other woman would be attracted to him for the same reasons she had been.

How could she be so selfish? When she contacted him, she didn’t give a thought to his life and what upheavals he had to go through to be here with her. How selfish could one person be? As long as he came when she called him, that’s all that mattered. What had he put on hold in order to be here with her? Had she spoiled a dinner date when she reached out to him?

Wait a minute, Savvy. You don’t even know if he’s involved with anyone.

The little voice put brakes on her musings. That was true. She released a breath she hadn’t been conscious of holding. No need to create an adversary where one didn’t exist.

Adversary? What a strange way to describe another woman. She had no claim to Micah just as he had none to her. Her teeth bit down on her lips. Why didn’t that make her feel any better? It should. There wasn’t any lost love between them.

Clearing her throat, she smoothed the fabric of her pants and got back to the business at hand. “Anyway, Micah, I mentioned my parents may be coming up today or tomorrow to visit. I don’t want my mom to know Snuffy got hurt while trying to save Markita. My mother is very sensitive.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you.”

Savannah stood and walked toward the window. The bare branches of the trees bent under the harsh winter wind. Cars along the street moved slowly, the road still slicked with early morning ice. The scene before her brought back to mind an aspect of her life she had neglected for the past three days.

Her business.

Her mind whirled with its many thoughts. The past three days, she’d avoided her phone and emails in order to be here with Snuffy. Did she put the business on hold and tell her clients to be patient and understanding? What about the speaking engagements, articles, and presentations she had to execute at various places? Did she cancel them all?

“What is it, Savannah?”

He’d come to stand beside her.

“I’m just thinking about my clients and other obligations.”

“You don’t model anymore?”

She lifted her eyes to him. “No, I don’t.”

The air charged with a wealth of emotions. Micah had been supportive of Savannah’s desire to become a supermodel. Nascha’s influence had gone a long way to help her reach her goal. Yet, he hadn’t approved of the restrictions her work forced on her. Constant dieting and exercising. The perpetual demand to keep one’s looks as youthful and flawless as possible. The mind game modeling had on a person’s self-image. When she’d left the industry, Nascha hadn’t been pleased.

That particular day made an imprint on her brain she wouldn’t soon forget. Perhaps because it was one of the last times she had seen her friend look normal. The woman had strolled into her apartment wearing a black and white kimono-styled dress which hugged her lithe, svelte figure in all the right places. Her lips had a hard line to them and her rich, opal dark hair looked like silk under the flashes of sunlight that came through the window.

“I pulled in a ton of favors for you to get you in front of the top executives in the world,” Nascha had yelled at her. “This is how you repay me?”

“I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for me Nascha. You know that,” Savannah tried to reason with her friend. “But I can’t deal with it anymore. I just can’t.”

Those heavily fringed eyes of Nascha’s had hardened to the point they reminded Savannah of black ice. “The only thing a woman has is her looks. Forget that feminist bull.”

Savannah had blinked. “That’s archaic, Nascha.”

The other woman tossed her hair in a flippant manner. “Then why are women like you and me in business then? Why do these designers, fashion photographers, cosmetic producers, and who knows who else want us? Because we’re beautiful women and beautiful women sell.”

“Savannah?”

She jumped slightly and refocused back on the conversation. “I have an image consulting business. When Fiona and Bart died, I moved it to Tawas so I could take care of Snuffy.”

“What does an image consultant do?”

An unexpected laugh bubbled from her mouth. “That’s like asking what does an administrative assistant do.”

A twinkle appeared in his eyes. “Everything, I guess. What made you want to do that?”

The mirth left. “I was volunteering at a homeless shelter in New York. I met a woman there who told me she’d once been a model but had ended her career when she married. Long story short, her husband was physically abusive to her and over time, she lost her looks. He kicked her out of his home, divorced her, and she had no one to turn to so she ended up on the streets.”

“Some men are scum.” His lips twisted in distaste.

Savannah nodded. “When she told me her story, I felt an idea bloom. There must be other women who have been abused, or young girls bullied, and others who needed to know that true beauty isn’t perfection. I decided to start going around to homeless shelters and trying to coax some of the women to put on a fashion show. It was hard at first.”

Savannah smiled softly at the memories of people thinking she was absolutely out of her mind to put on fashion shows highlighting homeless women and men. “People didn’t see the need for it. But when I just ... pushed the door open and forced my way in, so to speak, people started to gravitate towards it.”

She gave a tiny shrug. “The rest is history as they say. I’m gaining more popularity as an image consultant and speaker than I ever did as a supermodel. Life’s funny that way, isn’t it?”

Micah gave her a smile which showed the brilliance of his white teeth. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You always want to help people. That’s an aspect of you I’ve always loved.”

Just like that, the world retreated and only the two of them existed, locked in a capsule of time. His amber eyes held warmth. The bond between them pulsed with renewed energy. Savannah wondered wildly if it had ever gone away.

He must have sensed it, too. Wonderingly, he raised his finger and reached out toward her hair. She knew what he’d do. He’d tug a strand of her hair and tuck it ever so carefully behind her ear. He’d always done so when they stood in close proximity to each other. She waited with anticipation.

“Savvy, what’s going on here?”

Tisha’s voice broke in on them like a police siren. Savannah felt heat rush her cheeks. Micah released her and they backed away from each other like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“Who is that?” Connie walked closer with a cautious tread. “That’s not who I think it is, is it?” Her face scrunched like a ball of paper.

Tisha gasped. “It’s Micah. Micah Reddington.”

“What in the world is he doing here?” Connie scowled.

“Girls,” Savannah attempted to interject. They both felt the need to protect her heart ever since Micah had broken it. They had been waiting for the chance to give him a piece of their minds. She’d kept the fact that he was here from them, hoping to prepare them for his presence earlier, but now that plan was about to backfire. “You think you can waltz back here after three years and just pick up where you left off?” Tisha stepped aggressively up to Micah. “You have some nerve.”

“Do you know how much pain you caused Savvy? A lot! I don’t know what you think you’re doing here but you can go back to whatever rock you crawled from under.”

Connie went around him and grabbed Savannah by the shoulders.

“Connie, Tish—wait,” she tried again.

“Don’t be fooled, Savvy. He’s just—”

“Here at my request, Tish.”

Pin drop silence followed her declaration. Tisha and Connie faced her, dismay marring their features. “You invited him here?” Tisha’s eyebrows perched in her hairline.

Savannah swallowed. “Yes. I asked him to come.”

“Why? You know what he did to Nascha,” Tisha accused, her dreadlocks swaying back and forth as she shook her head. “Why would you—”

“Tisha, Connie.” Micah’s voice interrupted. They turned to look at him, belligerence evident in their stances. He took a step closer to them, looking down at them from his not inconsiderable height. “Let me start by saying it is good to see you again.” He sounded genial, but there was more to his tone than that. His next words proved it. “Let me finish by saying I’m here because Savannah invited me here. Despite what you think you may know about the situation with me and Nascha, you don’t. Kindly refrain from mentioning it again.”

An implacable quality lent warning to his words. Drop it or else. Savannah bit her lip, struck to the core by the change in Micah. When they were engaged, he retained a ready smile, a helping hand, a shoulder to cry on. He’d never been the kind of man to exude that sort of intimidation. Yet, she felt it radiate from him now, tangible as wind. She had never been subjected to this part of his personality.

This new man held a different bearing. Leaner, and harder in attitude. Had public scrutiny done this to him then? Had it changed him so much? A moment ago, she thought she saw an old glimpse of the man she had loved with her whole heart. Now in his place stood a person with whom one would have to tread lightly. The shock evident on her friends’ faces showed they noticed it, too.

Tisha tugged on her locks. “Fine. You don’t want to talk about Nascha. We’ll leave it in the past. But I don’t understand why you would still have him come here, Savvy.”

“Does it matter?” she fended off. She’d asked for his expertise with Liliana’s care, but she also thoroughly trusted the hospital’s staff. If she pondered the question too long, she was fearful of what the answer might be. “The only thing that matters is he’s here and helping me with Snuffy. That’s all that should matter to you, as well.”

They looked at her as if she’d grown a third head. She couldn’t blame them. Her shoulders drooped with the weight of her problems. “I need you to support me, okay?” Connie and Tisha rushed to her, moaning apologies and hugging her close. “You’re absolutely right. We don’t have time for these shenanigans.”

“Tish is right. Sorry for making things harder than they need to be.”