(Banner By Kelly)
Prologue
Curious stares but not too unfriendly. With the perfect disguise in place, that of a normal young man of the 21st century, Johnny commandeered the self-important swagger he had practiced for hours in front of the mirror and tucked his hands into his well-worn baggy jeans. As he walked through New York City’s trendy Soho district, he could only hope that no one looked too closely. He supposed he probably looked like a runt, given his height challenges and baby-soft face. Couldn’t be helped. As long as no one compared him to that picture splashed on the front of today’s New York Times, he would be home free. All that mattered right now was that he needed a job and a place to crash. A place where the wrong people would never even think of looking at him, at least for a week or so.
Turning the corner he saw just what he was looking for, a help wanted sign for a restaurant dishwasher. He might not have a lot of skills in that direction, but how hard could it be to wash a few dishes? Taking a last look at himself in a shop window, Johnny noticed a few hair strands that had escaped. He looked around to make sure no one was looking and then firmly secured the tight coil, tucking every last strand firmly under his baseball cap. Finally, Johnny took a big gulp and entered
Shawn’s Place. Those pinstripe suits would never find him here. This could be the answer to his prayers.
*~*~*~*~*
3 Hours Earlier…
As the minutes ticked by, you could hear a pin drop. At one end of the very long table sat six elderly lawyer types. At the other end of the very long table sat one lovely albeit slightly belligerent young woman, twenty years old to be exact. Her life had been an endless parade of hideaways, simple protests of the overbearing rules that had been forced upon her from the moment her parents, billionaires John and Marlena Black, had perished in a tragic boating accident eighteen years earlier. The media had long ago dubbed her the saddest little rich girl that ever was. The fact that she was even here today spoke volumes for her discontent.
She was screaming inside but nobody knew it. She closed her eyes briefly but when she opened them again, they were still there…her jailers…her legal guardians…their growing stranglehold on her. She could have wept for the affront. Not a one of them cared about her. No, their main goal in life was to siphon what they could from her financial legacy. Her parents would turn over in their graves if they knew.
The atmosphere of the boardroom was tense and anger-driven. The shaking of her hands belied her self-imposed defiance, but if Belle didn’t put a stop to this craziness soon how was she going to go on? She wasn’t a coward. She could withstand their browbeating. And so she smiled drolly. “Give it your best shot, gentlemen. Go ahead, I’m all ears.”
A few clearing of throats. Definitely an overused intimidation tactic where she was concerned. “Miss Isabella you are less than a month away from your inheritance. As your guardians and your parents most trusted associates, we are only looking out for your best interests. You must see that a lovely young woman managing a multi-billion dollar empire would be a Herculean task? Why, you would be exposed to less than appropriate elements…grifters…sharks…men looking for…for… Now if you would just look at this folder of eligible Fortune 100 bachelors, we are sure a match to the benefit of all of us...er we mean you, can be achieved. There is one young man in particular that we think would do very well. Just sign a few papers and you can leave the rest to us. Really, my dear, you should bow to our superior judgment. Haven’t we always taken care of you?” Harrison Cruikshank, leader of the all but ancient pack of legal wolves known as Cruikshank, Beeble, Cruikshank, Bauble, & Noodnik, prissily wiped at his forehead with a lace handkerchief.
He didn’t really expect her to answer that ludicrous question, did he? She looked at the half-a-dozen stuffed-shirt lawyers and glared not once but twice for effect. “You’ve done your best to shelter me all my life. You’ve had me home-tutored. You’ve chosen my few friends. You’ve programmed my every thought. You’ve scheduled every damn moment of my life! Enough! Without me you have nothing, gentlemen. I pay your wages. I pay for your children’s educations and your fancy vacations. I wonder what would happen if I asked for an independent financial audit first? For the last time, I am not marrying some plastic faced gigolo! There is more to life that keeping one’s fortune in the family! I am not a possession! And if you don’t stop pressuring me, you won’t like the results!” The open shock on their collective faces made her want to giggle.
“Young lady!”
“Don’t you young lady me, Mr. Bauble! I’m outta here and if you know what’s good for all of you, you’ll meet me on my terms! I am going to marry for love just like my parents did! Remember them? Remember what they would have wanted for me? You should all be ashamed of yourselves!” She stomped out of the room slamming the door behind her.
*~*~*~*
Shawn closed his eyes in exasperation. Balancing the restaurant’s books was his least favorite job. Thank god they were showing a profit finally. On top of that, it was to be hoped that the New York Times restaurant critic gave them a thumbs up. He had wined and dined with them just two nights ago and had promised his review would be in today’s paper.
“Hey boss? Your dad’s on the phone. Sounds important. Oh and here’s a copy of that newspaper you asked for.”
Shawn looked up to see the lanky image of Vinnie, his head waiter/wannabe Don Juan. “Tell him I’ll call him back,” he said, grabbing the newspaper and pulling it towards him.
“He said you would say that. He also said that he’ll just show up on your doorstep if you don’t talk to him now. I think he means business, boss.”
Shawn’s headache got that much worse. “Fine, go find Benny and ask him if he’s hired me a new dishwasher yet. I’ll talk to my daddy dearest. Oh and don’t forget to get those damn Valentine decorations up! Why I let Chelsea convince me that cut-out cupids were a must, I’ll never know. It’s bad enough that we already have red roses ordered for every table. Sheesh, she even wanted some baby bunnies on display or lacking their availability for the waiters and waitresses to dress up as playboy/playgirl bunny extras! All I need is the vice squad coming down on me!”
Vinnie grinned. “But boss! It’s the day of lov-v-v-v-v-e! Love is in the air!” He started humming the tune.
Watching grimly as the younger man strutted out of his office, Shawn moved reluctantly to pick up the phone. Day of love, his foot…grrr… “Hey, dad. What can I do for you? Mom okay?”
“She’d be a lot better if her oldest son would come home once in a while. I know I’d be a lot better in my son joined me on Wall Street where he belongs,” Bo Brady, financial wizard extraordinaire groused. “Oh and I’ve found the perfect girl for you, son. You can meet her at the Valentine Day Ball.”
Shawn sat up ramrod straight. “How rich is her daddy? Never mind. Maybe a better question is…what’s in it for you, dad?” he asked with an old touch of sarcasm. By his count this was the 28th girl his parents had pushed at him. No more!
*~*~*~*
They didn’t know her. They didn’t know her at all. They called her the poor little rich girl with attitude to spare, but really she was just a lonely young woman who stammered when she was nervous and cried herself to sleep every night. She couldn’t let them break her. All she needed was some time…a little space before she caved in and did what they wanted of her. She knew her responsibilities. She knew how many depended on her. She would marry the man they wanted and make the best of it if only…if only…
Where could she go? Her birthday was next week. It was time to jump ship! Just for a few days. She’d better look in her bag of tricks. She needed a plan…the perfect disguise…and a new name to go with it…something completely different…maybe… maybe if she took a little from dad and a little from mom…Johnny…Johnny Evans?
*~*~*~*
They didn’t know him. They didn’t know him at all. He had principles. No way was he going to marry some little rich girl just so his dad could add to his stock portfolio! The girl he married would not care if he had a nickel to his name! His face became one big grimace as he read the newspaper headline.
"Pampered New York Princess Disappears. Legal Guardians Cry Foul!” As far as he was concerned, he hoped she was never found. The girl had been handed everything on a silver platter. What the hell did she have to rebel about? Yeah she was cute…okay stunning really…but everything he’d ever read about this spoiled little debutante was everything he had fought against! He’d taken an instant dislike to her and he had yet to even meet the social butterfly.
Belle stopped just outside the owner’s office and took a deep breath. She could do this. She could so get into an entirely different persona, even if it was of the opposite sex. She had no choice. Okay here goes, she pumped herself up. But seeing what was inside had her giving a silent gasp. There was something about him, an uncompromising masculinity, something that shook her to her very core. His eyes were a smoldering brown. Not only was he lethally gorgeous and sexy-as-sin in an almost edgy way, but his aura of self-assurance was indeed something to behold. Given Johnny’s alter-personality’s wrapped-in-cotton-wool upbringing, men like him had always disturbed her.
It was now or never. The girl impersonating the boy pulled the baseball cap even lower over his/her forehead and prayed that the disguise would come with a voice deep enough to fool this man. “Um…I’m here about your job? There was no one outside to talk to. Er…my name is Johnny…Johnny Evans,” a small albeit nervous voice interrupted his angry musings.
