Blackest Red

  No matter how hard I’ve tried to let go of Mister Black, the memories of us together torture me. They’re an unforgettable reminder of a life I can’t have for many reasons.

  Burying myself in work mostly keeps thoughts of him to a screaming minimum, until he’s thrust into my life under circumstances beyond my control. Despite my need for his protection, this time I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to survive with my heart intact.

  He is Black: a fierce protector and irresistible charmer.

  I am Red: a trouble magnet and rainbow weaver.

  Together we ignite. Explosive colors merging at the hottest melting point.

  NOTE: BLACKEST RED is meant for readers 18+ due to mature content. This is part 3 in the IN THE SHADOWS series and is approximately 350 print pages. The series must be read in the following order: MISTER BLACK (part 1), SCARLETT RED (part 2), and BLACKEST RED (part 3).

  Copyright 2015 by P.T. Michelle

  All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook cannot be re-sold or given away to others. No parts of this ebook may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Interior formatted by E.M. Tippetts Book Designs

  To stay informed when the next P.T. Michelle book will be released, join P.T. Michelle’s free newsletter.

  Why is my editor calling me to Midtown Central Publishing the day before Blindside’s promo tour? After all the hype and push they’ve put behind this book, are they going to cancel the tour? Tension throbs through my shoulder blades, and I squeeze the paper cup a little tighter as I enter the senior editor and publisher, William Macken’s, top floor office in Midtown. The thought makes my stomach roil, considering the fact I’ve put my own life on hiatus these past six months, working crazy (read: insane) hours to get this standalone novel written in record time right behind turning in the last book in my trilogy.

  My fingers dig even deeper into the cup. Of course the lid pops off, but I’m not quick enough to snap it back into place before coffee sloshes over the edge and onto my hand. Wincing against the burning pain, I make sure the lid’s secure and follow William’s assistant editor, Jared, as he gestures for me to sit in the leather chair in front of William’s desk.

  Leaning against the desk in front of me, he crosses his arms and smiles. “William is running a bit behind. His last meeting ran over, but he’ll be here in five.”

  I find it amusing that Jared refers to his boss so formally. Like I don’t know he’s William’s son. The resemblance between the two is eerily uncanny. Whenever I’m in the same room with them, I feel like I’m standing in a time warp staring at the same person at two different points in his life.

  The only physical difference between father and son, other than the obvious age, is that William’s light brown hair is more a grown-out and finger-combed look. The longer style does an excellent job covering up the bit of gray at his temples. In contrast, his son’s hair is short on the sides, leaving only bedhead-styled hair on the top. Whereas William prefers designer khakis and Merino wool sweaters, Jared wears a suit and tie. William calls Jared “son” every so often, but Jared always tenses when he does it and only addresses his father as William. Then again, who am I to judge how people label each other; I don’t call the woman who raised me “Mom”. If Aunt Vanessa minds, she has never mentioned it.

  I hold Jared’s light green gaze. “Do you know why William called this meeting? He was very vague on the phone. He’s not cancelling the promo tour is he?” I say in a teasing, upbeat voice, then take a sip of my coffee to stop myself from blurting out other bad scenarios that might be behind this meeting. I can accept a cancelled several-day, city-wide book tour; I’ll just take those few well-needed days off before heading into work at the Tribune instead. But what if my publisher decided not to do the extra print run they mentioned last Thursday? Less books will mean that Blindside’s chances of being picked up by more bookstores will drop considerably.

  Jared smiles smugly, the slight cleft in his chin disappearing. “On the contrary, we’ve hyped Blindside’s fictionalized version of you being stalked by a serial killer so well since its release last Tuesday that we’re just taking extra precautions.”

  I furrow my brow. “What precaut—”

  “Talia!” William calls from the doorway, a warm smile on his face as he walks straight to his desk and sits down. “Thank you for coming.”

  I instantly straighten. “I’m not exactly sure why I’m here, William, but Jared says you’ll enlighten me.”

  Shuffling paperwork on his desk, William snaps the papers upright and straightens them. “Due to the increased media interest in Blindside’s release, we’ve received another letter and thought it best to make sure there’s plenty of security during your promo tour this week.”

  I quickly set my coffee cup down on the edge of his desk. “I’ve received another threatening letter not to promote the book?”

  He nods, but immediately holds up his hand. “Now, the last thing we want you to do is worry.”

  “Should we get the police involved?” Why didn’t I realize just how much media attention this book would generate? Considering Tommy’s unsolved murders had started here in New York, I should’ve known better. But I really thought that pitching my book as a fictional story based on true events would keep me out of the media-frenzied spotlight. Apparently that wasn’t the case.

  The thing is…I couldn’t not write it. After pitching the one paragraph summary to my editor, before I ever got his feedback, the story just poured out of me. Of course I changed people’s names, and left out Tommy’s connection to my past and the entire romance between Sebastian and myself, but apparently a fictional story based on true events is just as newsworthy as the fact the killer had been revealed and killed.

  “We’ve taken care of it,” Jared cuts in as he picks up my coffee and hands it back to me. “Don’t worry.”

  “How have you taken care of it?”

  William nods and pushes a button on his desk phone. “Cindy, send him in please.”

  When Sebastian walks into the room, dressed in a slate gray suit and a deep blue tie, I force my shocked gaze away to address my editor, but William is already on his feet and stepping toward Sebastian, his hand outstretched. “Welcome, Mr. Black. We were just assuring Miss Lone that she’ll be in good hands with your security business for the duration of her book’s promo tour.”

  Good hands? That’s what I’m afraid of. “Surely this is overkill.” I set my cup back down and stand, trying to ignore my heart slamming against my chest. I haven’t seen Sebastian since I slipped out of his room at the Hawthorne resort in Martha’s Vineyard six months ago.

  When I first got back to New York, he tried to get in touch with me, but I knew that the only way to protect my heart from being completely shredded to bits was to avoid all contact with him. To not let myself get pulled in deeper. Whenever he touches me, he’s like a drug I can’t get enough of, and yet he’d made it perfectly clear he doesn’t do relationships, certainly not anything lasting. Why would I open myself up to that kind of devastating heartache? So I kept my head down and buried myself in my writing deadlines and work for the Tribune instead.

  Sebastian shakes William’s hand, then shifts his brilliant blue gaze my way, his tone crisp and to-the-point. “I assure you, my presence isn’t unnecessary, Miss Lone. I’ve read the letters. Someone out there doesn’t want
you speaking about this book to the public. I’ve been hired to keep you safe and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

  I quickly shake my head. “I think this is way too much. I don’t need a security detail.”

  Jared approaches and clasps my tightly clenched hands between his. “Mr. Black is highly trained, Natalia. He will be sure to blend in at the signings, media interviews, and evening events we have planned this week. He won’t stand out as your bodyguard, but he’ll be there, giving Midtown Central Publishing peace of mind.”

  “But Mr. Black isn’t even his…” I pause and glance over at Sebastian who raises a dark eyebrow, a mocking challenge in his eyes. Are you really going to say my name isn’t Mr. Black?

  Jared releases me as William walks over to rest a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “It’ll run smoothly, you’ll see. The authors’ event tonight will make a great dry run before Blindside’s promo tour officially kicks off tomorrow. We’ve taken the liberty of booking you a room at the Regent for the evening, since the event will run late. Please make sure to be downstairs in the Imperial ballroom an hour before it starts. I hope you’re ready for all the attention, Miss Lone.” Before I can respond, he squeezes my shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go over a few things with Mr. Black.”

  “I’d like to see the letters, please.”

  William nods to Sebastian. “His company is a security firm. They’re investigating as we speak.”

  “Do we know if they’re even from the same person?” I ask, directing my gaze to Sebastian.

  He nods. “They are.”

  “And?” I raise my eyebrows, frustrated that he’s so non-committal.

  “When we have something to share, we will. Just know that more than one veiled threat has been made about the release of Blindside. It’s not extreme to assume you might be specifically targeted.”

  I throw my hands up. “This is crazy.”

  “Come on, I’ll take you to lunch,” Jared says, clearly trying to calm me down. “I have some PR business to discuss with you anyway.”

  Yes, it worries me to think someone might be after me, all because I wrote a book, but what bothers me more at the moment is being kept in the dark. Not to mention, Sebastian’s presence is setting me on edge. I can’t decide how I feel about the fact he’s acting like we barely know each other. Does Midtown Central know he’s Aaron White from my book? I don’t buy for one minute my publisher just happened to pick his company out of the abundance of security firms out there. Straightening my spine, I narrow my gaze on Jared. “I want to see the letters.”

  Jared sighs. “I have them scanned on my phone. You can see them during lunch.”

  Nodding, I let him escort me out of the room with every intention of grilling him about BLACK Security’s involvement during lunch.

  As Jared and I walk into the restaurant, a text pings on my phone.

  Unknown: Make sure Ivy League Junior doesn’t get in my way this week. You will follow my instructions, not his. Got it, Natalia?

  My face flames with indignant fury. Even though Jared and I haven’t stepped beyond a business relationship, the tone of Sebastian’s text seems to imply there’s more between us. It doesn’t matter that Jared’s been moving toward a romantic relationship the last few business meals we’ve had together. I resist the urge to blast Sebastian with a “mind your own damn business” text while Jared asks the hostess for a table. Instead, I address the bigger issue.

  Me: How did you get my number? You’d BETTER not still be tracking my phone.

  Unknown: William. Add me to your contacts.

  His abrupt order makes me set my jaw. The man doesn’t ask for anything. He demands.

  Me: Why?

  Unknown: So my stubborn client will know it’s me texting her.

  I ignore the unbidden fluttering in my stomach and grudgingly add him to my contacts. I’ve just saved his info on my phone when another message comes through.

  PainInMyAss: This isn’t up for negotiation. Is it done?

  Smirking, I send him a screenshot of his last text to me.

  While the waitress leads us to our table, another text comes through.

  PainInMyAss: Begging me already? A blistering shade of red on that sweet ass of yours sounds perfect to me.

  The thought of his low, sexy voice whispering that in my ear makes my insides burn. Arrogant ass! I shake my head and shut off my phone, annoyed that he turned my intended dig into some kind of kinky come-on.

  “What did the police say?” I ask Cass as she walks into my hotel room with my suitcase and her bigger one in tow. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come home. Jared sprung back-to-back PR meetings on me right when we got back from lunch.”

  Cass pushes her long dark hair over her shoulder and sits down on the bed, adjusting the slit on her black formal dress. “No worries. The police came and did their thing. Just in case…” Pausing, she hands me a key. “I had the locks changed. The doorman’s going to keep an eye on our place, but I’m glad you’re listening to me about staying at the hotel all week. I’ll feel better knowing you won’t be at home alone at night. Whoever broke in didn’t steal anything that I could tell, but they went through your bedroom. Opening drawers, your closet, your jewelry box, your toiletries. It was beyond creepy to see what all had been touched.”

  I shake off the shiver that crawls up my spine. “Answering the police’s questions via speakerphone while signing a stack of books felt so awkward. Did they get anything useful?”

  Cass nods. “Fingerprints all over the place. Obviously the person didn’t care that they left them behind. Once the police eliminate yours, hopefully the person’s prints will be on file somewhere. Oh, by the way, on my way in I saw your aunt and Charlie downstairs.”

  Tensing, I hold her gaze. “Do me a favor and don’t tell Aunt Vanessa about the break-in. She’s already on me about not doing the tour after I made the mistake of telling her about the threatening letters.” The two letters that Jared showed me at lunch had been very vague. They had both supposedly come via the regular mail. Both had been typed out on a computer and had just said that if I promoted Blindside, I would regret it. “I don’t want to give my aunt another reason to worry.”

  Cass nods. “She didn’t see me. I noticed her leaving the restaurant as I walked past.”

  I laugh as I lift the suitcase Cass brought for me onto the bed to unzip it. “I think it’s Aunt Vanessa’s new personal goal to make sure she tries every restaurant. Now that she’s got her friend, Charlie-the-foodie to hang with, I don’t think she has cooked a single meal the past six months. I’m surprised Charlie’s husband doesn’t get jealous of all the time they spend together.”

  “It’s not like she’s going to steal him away.” As Cass snickers, she lets her gaze scan the opulent bed and expensive furnishings in the room. “This has to be one of the most exclusive hotels I’ve ever been in.”

  “You’re welcome to stay and keep me company this week instead of trotting off to Spain. I’ll even sweeten the deal by offering to pay for a mani-pedi and a massage.”

  Her eyes widen, then she twists her lips, expelling a grunt of frustration. “You are so wickedly cruel, Talia. But this is Spain! You know how much I’ve been dying to do a shoot there.”

  I sigh, knowing I won’t get her to change her mind. When it comes to her photography business Cass is obsessed. Her crazy long hours are the only reason I was able to work so much these past few months. Otherwise, my best friend would’ve staged an intervention. And truthfully, once I’d turned my Sly Fox club article in to the Tribune, even I knew something had to give. At least with Blindside’s release, I’ll be able to breathe again. Pulling my formal gown from my suitcase, I shake it out. “Ah well, I tried. At least you can be here tonight to help me celebrate the tour kick off tomorrow. Thank you for coming and being a buffer when Nathan shows up.”

  Cass shakes her head. “You’d think after this much time, he’d get the hint you really aren’t going to t
ake him back.”

  I shrug and lift more clothes out of my suitcase. “He hasn’t been too happy with me ever since I ditched him while working on the Sly Fox club piece.”

  Pressing her lips together, Cass’ gaze narrows. “I didn’t like that you sent him home. He might be annoying as hell, but we both know he’d have your back while you worked undercover at the club.”

  I hold a pair of three-inch heels up beside a strappy pair and raise my eyebrow. When Cass points to the strappy ones, I say, “Nathan’s a great researcher, but he didn’t blend in enough. I was worried he’d blow my cover. Plus, the new bouncer, Theo, took me under his wing. He might’ve come across as laidback, but that brute of a man wasn’t letting anyone mess with me. Did I tell you he even walked me to my car each night?”

  Shaking her head, Cass exhales. “I know you felt it was a second chance to finally bust that human trafficking ring, but I’ve never been so glad when you told me you were finally done with that piece.”

  I smile. “It was something I needed to finish. Not to mention it bought me tons of good cred at the Tribune.”

  “I know, I know.” Cass nods. “Though you may not need me to help with Nathan. It sounds like that assistant editor of yours is more than interested. Bet he’ll Velcro himself to you tonight.”

  I shrug out of my clothes and step into my dress. “I seriously doubt that. Along with his father, Jared will be hosting this event. He’ll be very busy schmoozing it up with all the authors and industry people, not to mention the media who’ve been invited.”

  “Then a buffer I’ll be,” Cass says, grinning. Curling a strand of her long, straight dark hair around her finger, she bats her lashes at me. “You, uh, do realize I will be doing a bit of my own stalking tonight. Mr. Osslander is still coming, isn’t he?”