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  DISASTROUS

  E.L.Montes

  DISASTROUS

  E.L. Montes

  Kindle Version

  Text copyright © 2012 by E.L. Montes

  All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.

  Cover designed by David Goldhahn

  www.davidgoldhahn.com

  Edited by Theresa Wegand

  This book is dedicated to my family. There are not enough words to show my gratitude. Thank you for all the love and support.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Epilogue

  Bonus scene

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Grabbing my wrist, he begged me not to go. With the blood pulsing through my veins, my rage quickly boiled. Turning to face him, I shoved the palm of my hands against his chest. I was surprised by my own strength. Although he was bigger than me, I was able to force him to stumble back a few steps, landing on the wooden desk. He managed to balance himself, but he didn’t move. His sorrowful eyes were staring into mine, pleading: those eyes that I once fell for, that I trusted, that allowed me fall under his spell. Those eyes now only filled my stomach with such vile disgust.

  Collecting my thoughts was impossible. My mind was racing a thousand miles per hour. I’d never felt so much pain in my life. I gave him one last look, but he did and said nothing. His eyes were saddened, but I didn’t care. I wanted to get away! I turned away from him and ran as fast as I could. I could hear him yelling my name.

  Snatching my purse from the table without looking back, I struggled to unlock the front door. I managed to open it with a shaky hand, tripping down the first few steps, realizing at that moment my feet were bare. Carelessly, I ran down the driveway and reached my car. I shoved my hand into my bag to collect my keys, but I couldn’t find them. Shit! He was by the door. Rushing in the process, I was able to locate them and jump into the driver’s seat.

  Looking up, I found him on the bottom step, yelling, begging me to stop. My heart was pulsing at such a rapid speed I felt nauseated and lightheaded. After turning on the ignition, I raced out of the driveway and onto the street. The speedometer reached ninety-five miles per hour. My hands were sweating, and my heart was pounding so loudly I could barely hear myself breathe.

  After twenty minutes, I was far enough to pull over by the curb, checking my rearview mirror; he was nowhere in sight. I made sure the doors were locked. Then burying my face into my hands, I screamed and burst into sobs, allowing all the rage and betrayal to pour out. How could I have believed and trusted him? How could I have been so stupid; this whole time he was warning me, but I was blind and didn’t care … I wanted the good and bad … all of him.

  Knowing at that moment what he truly was, I realized that everything was just lies. Aarrgh! I looked down, trying to catch my breath. Through blurry, watery vision I caught sight of my cream silk nightgown spotted in bright red blood.

  My thoughts were uncontrollable. I was trying to make it all go away, and I pounded my fists against my temples, but all that managed to do was inflict additional pain. Why me? My chest felt tight, and it was so hard to breathe I was hyperventilating. After a few minutes of taking long deep breaths, I was able to control the airflow through my lungs. Then it all came back to me: the day I met HIM.

  Chapter One

  The month of April was so beautiful this year: clear skies, bright green grass, and a cool breeze perfect enough to wear a light jacket. It was my last day of class before my summer break began, and for some unexplained reason Professor Johnson required the entire class to attend the last day even after we’d submitted our final exam and paper. He was blabbing about what we learned in the entire semester of our Contract Law class. I knew I earned my 4.0 GPA, so I ignored his unnecessary lecture.

  Staring out the window, I continued to admire Harvard’s landscaping as students and faculty scattered around. This had been a tough year, and I was just happy to be taking a break. The last few months had been nothing but an emotional rollercoaster. Finally I was at a point where I could wake up without crying, go to school without zoning out, and enter a public place without the aching memories.

  My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a round of applause. I joined in as I knew the class was finally over. The students began to pack their bags. I quickly placed my laptop and textbook into my backpack and headed for the door. Professor Johnson was standing by the entryway saying farewell to everyone.

  I knew it would be difficult to walk by him without being pulled in for an intellectual conversation. So I attempted to hide my face by lowering my red cap. There were a few students in front of me, and I tried to blend in and sneak out, avoiding eye contact. I was almost out the door when Mr. Johnson shouted my name twice. A few students turned around, flashing sympathetic smiles. I couldn’t say I didn’t hear him. Slowly I turned on the balls of my feet and flashed a full-toothed grin. In return I was faced with the stupid, goofy smile I was beginning to dislike. Ugh!

  When I reached his side, he lifted his finger, indicating for me to wait a minute. Great! He pulled me aside and had the audacity to keep me waiting. After he gave a few more farewells, we were left alone in the huge classroom. Facing me with another big smile, he began to walk towards his desk.

  I followed, dragging my feet all while forming a handgun with my finger and thumb and aiming it at my head. Then I pulled the trigger. Okay, so that may seem a little childish for a twenty-four year old, but I didn’t want to be bothered that day.

  He took a seat behind his desk and handed me a sheet of paper. Raising an eyebrow at his amused grin, I looked down at the document. I was dumbstruck when I saw the letterhead. It was from The Law Office of Marcus DeLuca! I continued to read the letter when I realized it was addressed to me.

  Dear Ms. Sullivan:

  Thank you for applying to our summer externship. As you are aware, our firm chooses four law students each summer from Harvard Law. Each student will be placed in one of our four legal departments.

  After reviewing your resume and references, we would like to invite you to interview for an opportunity to be a part of the externship program.

  Kindly make arrangements to be at our office on Friday, April 27, 2012, at 9:00am, at the above address, Suite 2500. You will be meeting with me and possibly Mr. DeLuca if he is available.


  Unfortunately due to our fast-paced environment and busy schedule, this date cannot be rescheduled. If for any reason you cannot make this date, kindly call our office for a courtesy cancellation.

  I look forward to meeting you. Thank you for your time and cooperation.

  Very truly yours,

  Lisa Harper

  Human Resource Manager

  Stunned I read the letter two more times. I couldn’t believe it! I looked up at Professor Johnson who still had that smirk on his face. I shook my head in disbelief. “Um, Professor Johnson, this is terrific, but I didn’t sign up for the externship position. I thought it was only for third-year students.” He adjusted his crooked wire glasses and cleared his throat.

  “Well Lisa Harper is really good friends with my wife. So I asked my wife if she could do me a favor and put in a good word for you. Mia, you’re the best student I’ve had in my twenty years of teaching. You’re attentive; you submit your work on time, and you earned a 4.0 GPA your first year! You deserve this more than any third-year student.”

  Oh, that was nice … I guess he’s not so bad after all.

  “Professor, I truly appreciate this, but knowing that there’s a possibility that I’ll be interviewed by Mr. DeLuca is nerve-racking. How am I going to pull this off?” The thought made my stomach twist in knots. Marcus DeLuca was the youngest, richest, and most successful lawyer in Boston. This was a dream come true; it was also a foot in the door. Everyone who had been an extern for the DeLuca firm had either been hired or highly recommended for other top firms.

  “Mia, you’ll be great at the interview. Yes, you’ll be a little nervous; that’s normal, but once you’re in there, you’ll fly through that interview like it’s nothing. Look, today is Tuesday; your interview is Friday. Take a break tomorrow, but stop by my office on Thursday. We can practice interview questions, so that you’re better prepared.” He got up from his chair and walked over. Stopping when he was a foot away, he lifted the palm of his hand and patted my head. I felt like a six-year-old. “You’re going to knock this interview out the park. Trust me.” He crossed his arms and smiled, this time less irritatingly. Why is he being so nice to me?

  I lightly smiled. “Thank you, Professor Johnson. I have no idea how to repay you for this.” He shook his head.

  “Oh Mia, it’s my pleasure, really. I have so much faith in you. I know one day you’re going to be a very successful woman.”

  I hope so.

  ****

  Before going home I decided to stop by a local boutique. I had to find something appropriate for this interview. I was sure sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a Harvard baseball cap wouldn’t do. My fashion sense had simmered down the last few months, especially when I began law school. I didn’t have much of a social life. Maintaining a 4.0 GPA was not going to happen while out drinking and partying every weekend. Don’t get me wrong: I do have a fashion sense; I am a girly girl, but I do love my sweats and t-shirt days. Nothing in my closet at that moment was appropriate for a professional interview, especially with the number-one firm in the city.

  I was greeted by a tall, enthusiastic blonde. “Hi! Welcome to Fabulous Boutique, is there anything I can help you with?” She was very pretty. Her hair was cut in a short bob; she had bright blue eyes and red lipstick that went well with her fair complexion. She was dressed in a black, fitted dress, a nude belt, and matching pumps.

  Instantly I felt embarrassed by my appearance. Lowering my head to examine my own ensemble, I wrapped my arms around the middle of my stomach in an attempt to hide, but it was no use. In defeat I dropped my arms and brought my gaze back to her. She had a huge Cameron Diaz smile which was actually contagious. I smiled too. “Yes, um, I have an interview on Friday, and I need to find something that’s … professional?”

  She waved her hand in the air, “Oh yes! We have a great selection in our successful section. Come follow me. Are you a six?” Following her towards the far right of the store, I was distracted by the number of collections they had in such a small place.

  “Yes, I’m a six, sometimes a five; it depends.” I followed as instructed and passed a mannequin. The plastic figure was wearing a black and beige waistline pencil skirt with a sheer nude blouse. The collar of the blouse was tied in a bow, and a matching beige purse hung from the mannequin’s arm. It was pretty cute. “Something like this?” I pointed at the mannequin.

  “Oh yes, I’ll prepare some outfits for you to try on. It’s best if you purchase a few so you have plenty of options,” she said. And so I can spend money.

  She skimmed through the racks as I stared at her selections, wondering how badly my thighs or hips would look in the skirts and dresses she’d chosen. I was blessed with curves and although I learned to accept them, not everything looked good on these hips.

  She walked over to another section where she located a few blouses. Placing an emerald green blouse in front of me, she glanced from the thin silk fabric to my eyes. “Oh! This matches perfectly with your eyes, such beautiful eyes!” Looking down at the blouse then back at her, I smiled and gently shrugged.

  “What’s great about our boutique is that a lot of these pieces go well with each other, so it’s easy to prepare a few outfits with just four or five pieces of clothing,” she chanted as she continued to rummage through the hangers.

  She turned to face me with another Diaz smile; you could tell she enjoyed this kind of stuff. “Okay, we can start with these, come let me show you to the dressing room.” Reaching for my arm, she dragged me to the far back of the store.

  This should be … fun.

  ****

  Melissa, the boutique clerk, was very useful and showed me different ways to wear the outfits that I purchased. After an hour with her I had two dresses, four skirts, and six blouses, as well as two pair of shoes, a purse, and some jewelry to add to my collection. I was also five hundred fifty dollars poorer, but whether or not I got this position, I still needed the clothes for other interviews. Well at least that was the logic I used when I swiped my credit card.

  I managed to squeeze myself and all of the bags through the narrow apartment door. As soon as I entered the living room, sleepy blue eyes popped up from behind the sofa. Jeremy looked worn out as he rubbed his lids with the back of his hand. His eyes widened at the pile of bags I was carrying. Then he flashed a gorgeous grin.

  “Celebrating summer break?” He nodded at my filled hands. I dropped the bags on the hardwood surface. Shopping is exhausting! Walking around the couch, I threw myself beside him and let out a huge draining breath.

  “No, I went shopping for an interview I have on Friday.” I turned to look at him; he had an amused expression.

  “Interview? With whom?” I was a little hesitant, not sure if he’d be excited or upset with the news.

  Biting my lip, I blurted out, “The DeLuca firm.” Nervously chuckling, I watched as his lips slightly parted, and his cheeks lifted into a stupid boyish grin.

  “Mia, that’s awesome! I do too. I just received the letter today in the mail. My meeting is Friday at 9:30 in the morning. Wait, I thought they only accepted third-year students?”

  In a way this didn’t surprise me. Jeremy’s father designed the DeLuca firm’s building, and his father has a way of using the advantages of knowing powerful individuals to help out his son.

  I shrugged. “Professor Johnson put in a good word for me. I’m sure I won’t get the position, but it’s nice to be invited.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave me a reassuring smile.

  “Mia, I’m sure you’ll get it. I’m actually not surprised you have the interview…so you know what this means!” he sang.

  I knew I should be worried. “What?”

  He jumped from the couch while stretching his arms in the air. He wore only boxer briefs, and with his curly blond hair a mess, he still managed to look adorable. He’d been working out a lot more this semester for the summer, and his hard work had paid off. I glanced at his ripped abs. The firm muscular lines caus
ed the pit of my stomach to twist.

  Swallowing, I tore my eyes away. The last time I’d had sex was two months ago, and it was with Jeremy. It began after my life changed seven months ago; he was there to comfort me, fully comfort me. Of course it was meaningless, drunken sex. We were able to do it and act as if nothing had happened.

  Jeremy had never been in a relationship longer than a month. So in between his breaks, we would rekindle our sexual relationship. It actually worked out for us; though two months ago…I told him I didn’t want to anymore.

  I watched him turn and walk towards the kitchen. He opened the fridge door, grabbed a carton of orange juice, and drank from the container. I shook my head. Boys will be boys. He held the carton out to me, and I shook my head again. “So what does this mean, Jeremy?” I hated when he kept me in suspense for this long.

  “We’re going to celebrate tonight. Let’s go to Club21.” He sat beside me again. Within a second, he spread his legs and grabbed his package. “And besides I need to find a one-night stand because Thor needs some loving!”

  I burst out laughing. “Thor? You named your package? Since when?”

  He smiled. “I didn’t. One girl told me in the sack that I looked like one of the Hemsworth brothers, so I stuck to it.” He shrugged and took another swig of the orange juice.

  Bringing my hands to my mouth, I tried my very hardest to stop the laughter. “Oh my God, please tell me she was hammered.” Jeremy was handsome, no doubt, but to compare him with the one and only Chris Hemsworth? She had to be drunk.

  He pouted. “Just a little…besides, I have to get action somehow…you cut me off on that, remember?”

  Dropping my hands, I glared at him. “Jeremy we discussed this. In order for me to try and heal from the loss without your help, we can’t have sex anymore.” He nodded his head, agreeing, and I continued. “Besides, don’t you want me to help you find the hottest chick in the club tonight?”