College Senior and actress Savannah Duley meets complicated and repressed billionaire business mogul, Alexander Holt, who soon becomes obsessed with Savannah and pressures her to sign what he calls his "marriage contract." Savannah is soon wrapped u...
This title is a work of fiction and is a product of the author's imagination. Any similarities in names, places, or people are purely coincidental. This title and its contents may not be reproduced or reused in any form without the written consent of Meg Sechrest.
THE CHARACTERS:
Alexander Holt
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Savannah Duley
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CHAPTER ONE
I'm Savannah. I'm 22 years old and I'm a theater student at the Manhattan School of Music. There isn't much to say about me except that my parents died last year and now I rent my uncle's two bedroom apartment with Emberley. It's expensive and now I'm broke. I also act part-time at a small community theater downtown. "Hey, Savannah?" my roommate, Emberley, says. "Yeah?" I say. I peek my head around the bathroom door as I'm blow-drying my hair. "I won't be home this evening because I'm showing my paintings at the gallery." "Oh! That's right. I'll be there. I promise," I say. "Thanks, Savannah. It starts at 7." "I'll be there." I walk into my bedroom and change into the outfit I'm going to wear for class that day but also take out a dress to wear to the gallery that evening. "Are you bringing that guy... um, what's his name?" she asks. "Do you mean Chase? I thought I told you we broke up?" I say. "Oh yeah. That's right! I forgot." I slip my sweater over my head and throw on some mascara and lip gloss before slipping into my shoes and grabbing my backpack. "See you later," I say. "Later.' It's about a 20-minute walk from my apartment to the Manhattan School of Music where I major in musical theater, and the aroma from the Starbucks is so inviting, I can't help but stop in. "Hi. What would you like?" the barista asks. "I'll have a tall caramel mocha," I say. " "$4.82, please." I hand her my money and get in line to wait for my caramel mocha, when out of nowhere, this idiot bumps right into me, spilling his coffee all down the front of my sweater! "Hey!" "Maybe watch where you're walking," he responds. I'm furious. "What do you mean?! You bumped into me!" "Here's your mocha." I step forward to get my coffee and he turns away from me. No apology. Nothing. And he demands for the barista to get him a new coffee. What an entitled jerk! If I didn't want this coffee so much, I'd go dump my coffee down him! He walks past with a smug grin and says, "Bye." Fuming, I let out an exasperated sigh. I'm so angry as I walk away from there–since I now am covered in coffee–that I text my closest friend to tell her all about it.
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I get to school, change into Jenna's jacket, and hurry into class. Fortunately, we have this class together. It's one of the few we share. We take our seats and I pull out my laptop to take notes. Class passes quickly and Jenna approaches after. "Hey. Want to grab some lunch? You're not looking too bad after this morning's fiasco." "Yeah. Let's go to that deli by the park." Jenna and I walk the few blocks to the deli by the park and on the way there I see that jerk I saw that morning at the coffee shop. "Jenna!" I pull Jenna out of his sight. "Girl! What's with you?" she asks. That guy over there is the one who spilled coffee on me this morning! "Nu uh!" "Yes!" Jenna peers her head around the tree we are standing beside, looking back and forth between us a few times. "Savannah, he is really hot," Jenna says as she's making it very obvious she's looking right at him. "So what? I don't care. He's a jerk!" "He looks kind of familiar," she says, gaining a smile from him. "What? Do you know him?" Jenna watches him run laps around the park a few more minutes with his dog before she looks back at me. "I don't know him. But we get a lot of people in the office and maybe he's been into the office before." Jenna also works part-time for an attorney answering phones, which was how I met her. The firm where she works handled the will for my parents. "Oh. Maybe. Do you think he's needed an attorney? I wonder what's wrong with him. Maybe he's a felon." "Savannah!" she says with a laugh. "Why does that bring me satisfaction?" I say laughing. "C'mon girl. Let's go. Forget about him."
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I rush home to dress for the art show. My mind's in a fluster after running into that jerk again in the park with Jenna. I push him out of my mind and put on my best dress. I step out of my closet in a satin navy dress.
"This is perfect!"
Once my long blonde hair is fixed and I do my makeup, I snag a cab and head out the door."Girl, you look amazing! Trying to impress someone?" Emberley says when I walk inside the Gallery."No, but you never know who's around." "Come see my art," she says, yanking my arm to see her painting and sculpture. We walk over to her paintings and her sculpture, and she introduces me to a few of her friends. "Nina, Freddie, Giovani, this is Savannah. Savannah, this is everyone." "Hi," I say. "Are you an artist?" Giovanni asks. Emberley laughs. "Savannah? No! She's an actress." "I attend musical theater at the Manhattan School of Music." "That's really cool," Giovanni says. "Are you ever in shows?" "Yeah. I have a performance coming up soon." "You guys should come with me to watch her," Emberley says. "Yeah," they say in unison. Emberley continues talking to her friends and I look around the exhibit at some of the other paintings and pieces when what should my wondering eyes happen upon but Mr. Starbucks himself! "Uh! It's you!" I say. "Get that coffee stain out?" he asks with a smile. "What are you doing here?" "Appreciating art." "Oh. So, you're a funny guy, huh?" I say, crossing my arms. "Only when needed." I roll my eyes and turn my back to him. "Alexander," he says. "What?" I say and turn around. "My name. It's Alexander. You are?" I think about ignoring him, but as I'm staring at his beautiful blue eyes and the irresistible dimple in his chin, he says, "You are?" and it only accents his plump peach lips, the bottom one slightly fuller than the top that was defined with a slight Cupid's bow. I give in and say, "I'm Savannah." "Have dinner with me tomorrow?" "Um..." "C'mon, it's the least I can do for spilling my coffee on you this morning." "Fine." I'm so frustrated because this man is too gorgeous to say no to. "Don't be too excited," he says with a smile. "I'm not." "I'll pick you up at 6." He walks away. "Um, Wait! How do you know where to get me?" "I'll know. Be ready at 6," he says, glancing back at me. He walks away. "Savannah, do you have any idea who that was?" Emberley says. "No. But that jerk spilled coffee on me this morning and thinks he can make up for it by taking me out to dinner tomorrow night." "Savannah! He's a billionaire! He sponsors these art shows in honor of his dead mother! That's why they're called the Helen Holt Memorial Art Gallery." "He's Alexander Holt?!" "Yes!! Did he not tell you his name?" "He said his name is Alexander, but he didn't say his last name." Emberley rolls her eyes. "Well, billionaire he may be. I still think he's arrogant and I'm only allowing him to take me out because he ruined my favorite sweater. Now he can make it up to me with pasta and dessert."
