A Shattered Heart (Live & Love Series Book 1)
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Authors: Jenn Leigh
A Shattered Heart
Live and Love Series
By Jenn Leigh
Copyright © 2015 Jenn Leigh
All rights reserved
First published 2015 by Jenn Leigh
The right of Jenn Leigh to be identified as the Author of the work has been asserted to her in accordance with the Copyright Act of Canada 1921, revised 1988 and 1997.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
ISBN 978-0-9947373-0-4
Cover design: Wicked By Design
Editing: C & D Editing
Dedication
For my kids, who provide endless inspiration
For my friends, who provide comic relief in times of need
For my husband, who provides love and support
For me, because I could
Red flashing lights, screaming, people yelling, and all I could hear was the blood whooshing in my ears, pounding like a drum.
Boom, boom. Boom, boom.
I wished the screaming would stop. I looked back and saw their lifeless faces, their eyes frozen in fear.
I realized then where the screams were coming from.
The screams were mine.
I sat up with a jolt with my ash blond hair sticking to my face. It was always the same dream, night after night. It didn’t matter how much counseling I went to, nothing seemed to help. The doc said I should let the dreams play out, but I couldn’t ever get that far. It was too much.
I got up to go into the bathroom where I looked in the mirror and noticed the tears streaking down my cheeks from my light green eyes that looked wild and scared.
Turning away from the mirror with my heart still racing, feeling like I had run a marathon, I went back to my bedroom to change my sweat-soaked sheets, even though it was three a.m. It had been two years, four months, and fifteen days since the accident, and I felt no more ahead. I couldn’t move on or let go of the past any better than I had the day it had happened, the day my life had been taken from me.
2 years, 6 months, 10 days
This is the start of a new job, and I hoped a new lease on life. I had made a decision to live again, and hopefully the rest would fall into line. The nightmares never went away—they were a part of my life—but I had to move on, meaning I had to live with the nightmares. Maybe it was my burden or penance for being the one left alive. I didn’t know. Regardless, I had made the decision to try to move on, as hard as it would be.
For the past two years, I had been trying to find myself again. I had made the decision to leave everything behind me and spent some time traveling, trying to find the right place to restart my life. I had more than enough money to get me by to do this.
Truthfully, I had needed the restart. After all, even I could admit I had troubles coping at times. Certain things would trigger a memory, and I would shut down. Hotels were getting old, and so in my trek across the country, I came across Edgewood, Iowa, where I finally settled down, far away from my “previous” life in San Diego, California.
I had been living there for a few months now, mostly keeping to myself and getting familiar with the town as well as what it had to offer. I came across a help wanted ad for the local mechanics shop in the town grocery store and thought ‘
why not?’
I contacted Laurel and set up an interview, downplaying my resume. They didn’t need to know that I used to be the CEO of a large company.
When I interviewed for the position, I found the owners were a lovely couple. Harry was the head mechanic, and Laurel was the accountant. They were having issues keeping up with the mundane work, and once they figured out I had some automotive knowledge, I was as good as gold. I took the roll as a receptionist on the spot, knowing it would be less stressful than my previous life.
Before I moved out here, I decided to get rid of most of the fancy belongings I had accumulated in my “other life.” I no longer had designer clothes or fancy cars. I found Wal-Mart was a good go-to place for comfy clothes. I bought a used car that had seen better days—probably not the best impression for a mechanic’s shop, but hey. I simply wanted a fresh start.
Pulling up to the shop and parking besides the building, I stepped out of my car. Then I took a deep breath, straightening my clothes—jeans and a nice top— and quickly made sure my braided hair was in place before I headed inside. Laurel was sitting at what I assumed to be the reception desk, waiting patiently for my arrival, and she immediately greeted me.
“Hello, Natalie. Thanks again for working with us. You have no idea how much this will help our lives. Come with me, and I’ll show you around the shop.”
“Thanks for this opportunity, Ms. Bradley. I won’t let you down,” I told her as I set my purse on the desk and then followed her to another door.
“Oh, posh, dear, and please, call me Laurel.”
“Okay.”
The building was basically your average warehouse—a large, open, square building with cars haphazardly sitting around in various states of disarray. On the left side of the building were a few offices for, I assumed, Harry and Laurel. My desk, which was in need of some serious upgrading, was sitting toward the front of the building, near the entrance. From what I could tell, it looked like sanded down plywood on milk crates. It did have a computer, although I used that term loosely, because it looked like something from the 1980s—one of those big, boxy contraptions that took up the entire desk. There were also a few other assorted things sitting on the desk that I guessed were at least working in some fashion.
“It’s not much, I know,” said Laurel, “but it’ll have to do for now. It’s been slow at the shop lately, but hopefully, as part of your job, you can help us get the word out. See, we’ve recently brought in our three sons—Mark, Daniel, and Josh—all of whom have a mechanic background and will bring in new opportunities to the business. Instead of us being a tire and oil change business, we now have the full meal deal and can expand. So, with your help, I think we can get the word out to the town and start drumming up more business.” Laurel grinned with excitement at the possibility of business expansion.
“Wow, that’s awesome. I am absolutely certain I can help with that. I was an only child, and my dad loves cars, so I actually enjoy working in this environment and can help with advertising and small stuff around the shop. Although, I am afraid that this computer might be the death of me. Would you mind if I brought in my own laptop and used that, instead? My laptop has much more advanced software on it, and I would be able to do more. I can just hook it up to your system, and we can go from there.”
“Absolutely! That would be a great start. Whatever you see fit, my dear. Let me know, and we can definitely work it in the budget and see how we can fix up the front. Now, let’s go see if I can grab the boys for an introduction.”
I wasn’t prepared for this part, thinking I was only working for the Bradleys. In fact, I’d had no idea they had kids, let alone that their sons would be working here, too. Not that I couldn’t handle it, but it was surprising to hear it, at any rate. I figured they were all twenty-something, helping out their mom and dad. Well, when I rounded the corner, nothing could be further from the truth.
These were big, strapping men who looked like they should be playing football, not hunched over cars, and might I add, a fabulous gene pool, as well. Holy hell!
“Boys, meet Natalie Rush, our new receptionist,” Laurel stated proudly, using the whole Vanna White pose like I was some grand prize.
“Whoa, Ma, she doesn’t look like a receptionist.” The blond one eyed me up and down.
“You hush up, Mark. What have I told you about manners?” Laurel scowled. “That goes for each of you. I didn’t raise barbarians. Now introduce yourselves properly.” She crossed her arms in a motherly warning to behave.
Note to self: don’t piss her off. She had a death stare that would rival my own mother’s.
“Sorry, Ma,” they all said in unison.
Something told me that was a common theme for them. I smirked as they bowed their heads down.
They looked fairly close in age, early to mid-twenties, and I was willing to bet they had gotten in a lot of trouble growing up. Hell, they probably still got in a lot of trouble.
“Hi, I’m Mark.” He shook my hand firmly yet gently, all smiles. Cute, for sure, with a glint of mischief in his eyes. I would say he was probably the ring leader of the trio.
Mark had blond hair with blue eyes and definitely a body most girls would drool over, but to me, he looked like a teddy bear, a mischievous teddy bear you would want to hang out with as a friend.
“Hi, Mark, nice to meet you.” I shook his hand back.
“I’m Daniel, the best looking one of the bunch,” another brother said with a wink that earned him a punch in the arm from the last brother. If Mark was the teddy bear, Daniel had the Adonis market cornered, lock, stock, and barrel. He had brown hair, light green eyes, a tan that even surfers would be jealous of, and a dimple on the left side that would make most girls drool and talk in incoherent sentences. He was definitely someone I would bring home to my parents.
I looked to the third brother.
“Josh,” was all he said. He didn’t offer to shake my hand, just eyed me like I had the plague or something.
Out of the three, Josh made me feel uncomfortable. Not in a bad way, more like he made me feel inadequate. As different as his two brothers, he had brown hair, brown eyes, and an olive skin tone, looking very Greek. His hair was styled in that ‘just rolled out of bed’ look, something I could definitely run my fingers through. His eyes were very piercing, seemingly able to probe your soul. I could see how he was probably the protector of the group. It was intimidating; however, my previous life as a CEO had prepared me for people like this. Therefore, I held my ground and stared right back, waiting for him to break contact and showing him I wouldn’t back down.
As he turned away, I felt myself blush and hoped it wasn’t noticed.
The boys were definitely a good mix of Laurel and Harry, and you could tell they were related, even though their coloring was all different.
“Okay, boys, back to work. Chop, chop.” Laurel clapped her hands, and the boys all groaned yet went back to their duties.
I watched them all go, feeling a bit uneasy when Josh looked back with what I assumed was a pointed stare meant to say,
Stay away
.
What was his problem? Why did he make me more curious than not?
Laurel snapped me out of my thoughts when she cleared her throat. “Well, let’s get you set up at the front.”
The day of training went well. Afterward, I was heading out the door when Daniel caught up to me.
“Hey, pretty lady, where you off to?”
“Oh, nowhere special, just home. You?” I asked.
“We usually go to the bar down the street, The Tap Shop and Grill, for a few beers and pizza. Want to join us?” He sounded hopeful as he asked.
Man, did his eyes just twinkle? He made me lose my train of thought for a minute.
He looked at me expectantly, so I did what any regular female would do when asked by a handsome guy to go for drinks. I chickened out and said, “Maybe another time.”
“You sure I can’t convince you? We don’t bite, unless you ask.” Again with a wink. “It would be nice to have another person at our table, a referee of sorts. We often need someone to settle our battles. Come have just one drink with us. Pretty please?” Oh, my God, did he just bat his eye lashes?
I rolled my eyes. “Well, since you batted your eyelashes like a girl, I’ll go, but only one drink.”
“Yes!” When he pumped his arm in the air, like it was a victory of some sort, I merely rolled my eyes again and walked to my car.
“You drive that?” Mark asked as he came out of the building.
“Yeah, is there a problem?” I crossed my arms.
“You do work for a mechanic shop, so don’t you think it’s bad business to drive around in a rusted piece of shit?” He crossed his arms while staring me down. Little did he know that I lived for arguments.
“Since you seem to know me and my situation so well, what do you think I should do on my meager salary? Would you like me to purchase a BMW 640i, a Mercedes M class, Lincoln MKZ, or how about a six cylinder Porsche Cayman GT4 with three hundred eighty-five horsepower, going zero to sixty in four point two seconds in … canary yellow?” I shrug. “What’s your pick?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “The lady knows cars.”
“Well, no shit, Sherlock, did you think I would just apply for a position at the mechanics shop to stare at the help all day, file my nails, and chew bubble gum? I spent a lot of time with my dad and paid attention when he was working on cars, so contrary to popular belief, this girl knows about cars. I can even change my own oil and tires. Shocking, isn’t it? So, where do you get off making assumptions about me?” I spit out, glaring daggers at the fool.
His hands went up in surrender. “Point taken. Will you at least let one of us look at your car to make sure it doesn’t need any work?”
“I think I can handle it, but thank you for your concern. Um, Daniel, I think I’ll pass on the drinks, after all. I’m getting a headache.” With that, I walked to my car, though not before I heard a slap and “Way to go, asshole” comment as I closed my door.
They both stood there as I drove off.
Once in my little house, I chose to turn on some soothing music, poured myself a glass of wine, changed into my yoga pants, and then sat on my couch. My cat, Tabby, came over and settled herself on my lap.
Once I was sufficiently relaxed, I reluctantly decided to head to bed. Time to let the nightmares consume me once again.