A Million Tiny Pieces (9 page)

Mia
hadn’t been left wanting as a child. Her mother was a well-respected pediatric
surgeon, and her father had been a professor at the University of Texas. They’d
been well off, but Mia had been raised with the understanding that one made
one’s own way in life, and one had to make an effort. Nothing was ever simply
handed to her. And she respected her mother for instilling her with that value,
especially after she’d been thrust into Damien’s world.

Granted,
not all of the people Mia had associated with over the last few years had been
quite as ostentatious as the Somerhauses or nearly as generous as Alex and
Johnathan. In fact, most of them were somewhere in the middle, putting forth
the effort to be noticed while ensuring that they would get something out of
it. Especially Damien.

Yes,
Mia recognized that it didn’t say much about her that she had been married to
the man, or that she had continued to put up with his selfishness throughout
the marriage. But she liked to think that she’d turned over a new leaf recently.

“Come
on, let’s sit,” Alex said, nudging her arm.

Mia
followed Alex to the table, placing her clutch on the white linen tablecloth
that covered it before lowering herself into her chair, adjusting her gown as
she did. Johnathan arrived a moment later, kissing Alex sweetly before
convincing her to move so that he could take the seat farther from Mia, yet
leaving two empty spaces between her and Alex. The change put Johnathan almost
directly across the table from Mia. Glancing over at the seats between them,
specifically the one closest to Alex, Mia realized there was a busty brunette
fine-tuning her cleavage while eye fucking Johnathan as he spoke to Alex. That
explained the reason he’d traded places. Mia only hoped Alex didn’t claw the
woman’s eyes out before the last course was served.

It
wasn’t long before the tables began to fill. The conversation that had been
muted due to the size of the room became louder as people began congregating in
a much smaller area. When most of the other guests arrived at their table, Mia
realized she didn’t know any of them, which was another relief. They would be
her only source of conversation for the next hour, so she considered herself
lucky. If she didn’t know them, then hopefully they wouldn’t spur discussion of
her divorce.

She
also hoped she could carry on a conversation long enough to make it through the
meal. Then, if the universe was working in her favor tonight, she could sneak
out while everyone else enjoyed the rest of their evening.

Just
as the waiters were delivering the first course, the chair directly to her
right, as well as the one to her left, pulled back, and tuxedo-clad bodies came
into view on either side of her.
It wasn’t until each man was sitting that
Mia realized who they were.

The
guys from the elevator.

Damn.

Mia
turned her attention to the others at the table, hoping to look as though she
was part of the conversation they were having. She laughed when Alex did,
although she had no idea why Alex was laughing. Alex turned her head, her
eyebrows darting down briefly in confusion. Mia simply smiled.

Unfortunately,
the waiter didn’t realize that Mia was purposely trying to avoid the newest
members to their table, and he came to her right side, tapping her on the
shoulder as he stood between her and Green Eyes.
When she turned to look at him —
the waiter, that is — Mia met the piercing gaze of the guy sitting next to her
first before she focused her attention on the waiter looming at her side. The
waiter motioned to a bottle of red wine in his hand, and Mia nodded. She sat
back while he filled her glass, then poured some into the glass of the man
sitting next to her.

When
the waiter moved to her left side, offering wine to the golden-eyed stranger,
she made the mistake of looking that direction. She then noticed that the
newcomer was staring at her, a mischievous grin tilting the corners of his
full, sexy lips.

Oh,
God.

He
had a dimple.

A
freaking dimple.

In
his left cheek.

It
somehow softened the overly masculine structure of his handsome face, making
him seem a little less … intimidating. Just a little.

“Mr.
Pierce,” someone across the table said, which thankfully pulled her attention
away from the golden eyes peering back at her.

She
took a deep breath, trying to feed her starving lungs, because apparently she’d
been holding her breath without realizing it. The universe was clearly out to
get her. She couldn’t think of any other reason she would’ve been seated
between both of these men.

It
could be worse
,
she thought. At least she wasn’t sitting at Damien’s table.

Mr.
Pierce — better known as Green Eyes — began a conversation with a man two seats
over, and Mia watched the exchange, unable to look away. She admired the way he
spoke, eloquently answering the constant barrage of questions that was coming
his way while pretending not to be bothered. Maybe he wasn’t, or maybe he was
merely a superb actor. Either way, she should've looked away, but she didn’t.
Not until he looked back at her, catching her in the act of admiring him. Only
then did she glance away, pretending to be watching something across the room.

That
didn’t last long because the man with the golden eyes cleared his throat before
saying, “It’s nice to see you again.” As he leaned closer to her, Mia got a
whiff of his intoxicating scent.

“You,
too,” she lied. It wasn’t nice to see him. Either of them. Quite the opposite,
actually. Mia wanted nothing more than to put at least a ballroom between them
because she was beginning to do things she’d sworn never to do again. At least
not for a long, long time. Like entertaining the idea of reaching out to touch
him to see if his chest was as hard as it appeared beneath that fancy tux.

But
somehow, both of them had sparked a dry bed of kindling inside her, and she was
hard-pressed to keep the flames from turning into a full-blown inferno. Which,
in her opinion, was utterly ridiculous. It was ludicrous to find one of them
attractive. But both of them… That was just too much.

“Tarik
Marx,” the guy said softly, holding his hand out toward her. “And you are?”

“Sorry,”
she said, placing her wineglass on the table and returning the gesture. When
his big, warm hand engulfed hers, Mia tried not to focus on the strange
tingling sensation that erupted in the tips of her fingers. “Mia Cantrell. Nice
to meet you.” She hoped she sounded polite and not incredibly eager to hear him
speak in that dark, rich voice for a little while longer. She thought she heard
the hint of an accent, but she couldn’t place it.

Before
Tarik said anything more, the man on her other side leaned in, his gruff voice
greeting her as well. “It’s nice to meet you, Mia.”

“You,
too, Mr. Pierce,” Mia said quickly, jerking her head toward him, hoping she
sounded as though she knew who he was. Truth was, she hadn’t a clue.

It
must’ve worked, because he merely smiled, not bothering to tell Mia to call him
by his first name, or even what it was, which only made sense. He was one of
those
guys. The type who got off on being addressed formally, not caring to make any
personal interactions with people he wouldn’t likely see again. Damien was like
that, which had always driven her crazy.

A
crooked smile tipped the edge of his impressive mouth, one sleek, dark eyebrow
lifting casually as his eyes locked on hers for one heartbeat, then another.
She was the one to finally break the stranglehold he had on her with his eyes.
Looking across the table, she swallowed hard and ran her damp palms over the
napkin in her lap, hoping neither of them noticed. Only then did she offer him
her hand.

After
she shook Mr. Pierce’s hand, the heavyset guy across the table picked up the
conversation again, and the waiters began serving the food. Mia pretended to
eat, spending more time moving her food around her plate than actually eating.
She wasn’t really hungry, and the buzz she’d garnered from the champagne was
making it difficult to focus. However, she did find herself feeling a little
better.

She
heard bits and pieces of all the conversations going on around her. The woman
on Tarik’s other side — the one who’d been eye-fucking Johnathan earlier —
seemed enthralled with him, talking nonstop while the hefty guy on the other
side of the table kept Mr. Pierce’s attention. Although she could pretty much
repeat the conversations verbatim, Mia wasn’t included in any of them, which
was fine by her. She didn’t mind sitting there by herself; it was easier,
actually.

Dinner
consisted of four courses plus dessert, and by the time everything had been
served, she was full. Mostly because she’d practically scarfed down the
decadent chocolate mousse that had been offered and two more glasses of wine.
Once the plates were cleared and coffee was poured, the lights dimmed, and the
guests of honor took the stage. Before the last person was finished talking,
Mia considered sneaking away from the table under the guise that she had to use
the restroom.

Honestly,
she didn’t want to be sitting there when the lights came back up. She did not
want to have to engage in conversation with either of the strangers from the
elevator if at all possible. As it was, her obvious attraction to each of them
was beginning to be a thorn in her side.

Mainly
because she wasn’t supposed to be drawn to anyone. She wasn’t supposed to find
them even remotely attractive, yet she did.

No,
she’d sworn off men altogether. Especially men like them. Men who had money and
affluence. Men who wore those damn expensive suits like they were their second
skin.

It
had to be the alcohol. That was all there was to it, because instead of getting
to her feet and running as fast as she could, Mia found herself once again
looking into the emerald eyes of the sexy man at her side.

“Care
to dance?” Mr. Pierce asked.

Mia
heard the question, but she didn’t respond. She was having a hard enough time
swallowing, much less speaking.

“I’ll
take that as a yes,” he said with a rumbling chuckle as he got to his feet.
When he held his hand out to help her up, Mia slid her fingers into his. The
electric spark that ignited from the contact went straight to every erogenous
zone in her entire body.

Rather
than taking that as a sign to go, Mia allowed the handsome man to lead her to
the dance floor, where other couples were beginning to assemble. There was a
nervous flutter that started tap-dancing in her stomach, and it only
intensified when Mia found herself pulled flush against Mr. Pierce. Her senses
were instantly heightened, and she noticed the warmth of his hand as it
caressed her low back, the smoothness of his large fingers as he took her hand
with his free one, the delicious scent of his cologne, the rock-hard plane of
his upper body against hers.

Ugghh.
She was in so
much trouble here.

Even
with her four-and-a-half-inch heels, he was quite a bit taller than her. With
her shoes, Mia topped out at five foot eight, and he had at least another five
or six inches on her, which required her to crane her neck to look at him.
Without speaking, Mia danced through one song, but she did everything in her
power to keep from looking up at him. When the song ended, she was about to
pull away, but then another song began, and Mr. Pierce kept her close.

She
momentarily stopped as she heard the music begin. “I know this song,” she said,
looking up at him and meeting his eyes.

“‘Gravity’
by A Perfect Circle,” he said at the same time she did, a sexy smile pulling up
the corners of his mouth.

She
knew the song was an odd choice for the event, but something about it pulled
her in, kept her eyes locked with his. The beat was somewhat faster than the
last song, but their bodies continued to move slowly, sensuously, as though
they were one. As the bass thumped, her heartbeat kept a timely beat, her pulse
ratcheted up by the way the stranger held her gaze, drawing her in.

And
it was then that Mia knew she had to get away from him.

It
was that or she was going to give in to the dark side.

PHOENIX’S
NIGHT HAD gone from mediocre to downright perfection as soon as he’d taken his
seat at the table for dinner. Seated directly beside Mia Cantrell, likely the
most beautiful, intriguing woman he’d ever laid eyes on but hadn’t had the
pleasure of talking to, Phoenix had found himself mesmerized by her nearness.
He knew he had Tarik to thank for the seating arrangement, but he hadn’t had a
chance to speak with him since they had assumed their seats at her side.

When
Phoenix hadn’t been talking to Samuel Evergreen, he’d been stealing glances at
Mia, desperately searching for something to say, something to spark some sort
of conversation, but she’d continued to evade him although they’d been
separated by mere inches.

Admittedly,
he had no idea what it was about her that drew him in, but it was something.
Something that had gripped him once again in the elevator on his way to the
event and hadn’t let go, even now as he held her in his arms, moving slowly
around the crowded dance floor.

Unfortunately,
his euphoria was short-lived when the song they’d both been intrigued by
stopped.

“Thank
you for the dance,” Mia said softly, pulling away from him and taking a step
back.

“My
pleasure,” he said, reaching for her hand again. “I’ll escort you back to your seat.”

Surprisingly,
she didn’t argue as she slid her soft hand into his palm. He tucked her arm
beneath his, cradling her hand in both of his, which forced her to walk right
beside him. As he weaved through the crowd, leading her back to their table, he
knew his night was about to take an abrupt turn and not for the better. He
could feel it by the way she carried herself, Mia was going to bolt as soon as
the opportunity presented itself.

Phoenix
was powerless to prevent it.

For
now.

He
was still shocked that she’d agreed to the dance in the first place. She’d
managed to strategically avoid him throughout dinner although he’d been sitting
less than a foot from her. Thanks to Samuel and his constant stream of
questions, Phoenix hadn’t had a chance to talk to anyone else at the table. The
coincidence — although Tarik had had a major hand in making the change — of
sitting directly beside Mia had been wasted on some technology bigwig who
wanted to talk about start-ups. At least he hadn’t wanted to talk hockey.

Then
again, at least Phoenix hadn’t been practically manhandled by a big-breasted
brunette who wanted to maul him the way Tarik had. It had served him right,
considering Tarik would’ve had plenty of opportunities to talk to Mia. It
couldn’t have gone better if Phoenix had planned it.

As
soon as the lights came up, Phoenix had expected Mia to haul ass, only to be
pleased to find she hadn’t. His offer to dance had easily slipped right off the
end of his tongue, an attempt to spend a few minutes in her company. He didn’t
regret it. Whatever it was about this woman, he was captivated by it, intrigued
beyond measure.

They
stepped over to the table to find several people were still there, including a
couple who’d been sitting across the table. Phoenix assumed the man was the
infamous Alex, but his original assumption that the man was Mia’s date had
vanished at Tarik’s admission in the limo. He hadn’t been able to disguise the
relief he’d felt in knowing she didn’t have a date.

Releasing
her hand as they approached the table, Phoenix turned to face Mia, only to
receive another polite thank you. He didn’t even get a chance to say anything
before she managed to make herself scarce, disappearing into the crowd and
leaving him standing there, staring after her.

He
had no idea where she had vanished to, but now that people were slowly getting
up from the tables, he knew it would be damn near impossible to catch her.

“Alex,”
the man who’d been sitting across the table said, “I’d like you to meet Samuel
Evergreen. Samuel, my wife, Alexandra Henry.”

Well,
wasn’t that fucking awesome
, Phoenix thought with a smile.

From
the instant Phoenix had stepped out of his building earlier, watching as the
well-dressed man had kissed Mia on the cheek before helping her into his limo,
Phoenix had been accosted by a strange disappointment. Sure, at first he’d
figured the guy was her date — the one she’d been talking to in the coffee shop
— but there had been a small kernel of hope remaining, exacerbated because of
Tarik’s information and for the simple fact that she hadn’t had anyone sitting
beside her at the table.

And
now…

Well,
a flood of relief overcame him as Phoenix turned back to look in the direction
Mia had gone, lending a partial ear to the conversation taking place beside
him. Alex certainly wasn’t Mia’s boyfriend. Alex wasn’t a boy at all. That was
good to know.

Very
good
to know.

Granted,
it would be a hell of a lot better if he could locate Mia, but she was
currently … well, she was currently MIA.

He
smiled at his own joke.

Phoenix
was tempted to ask Alex if she knew where Mia might have gone but reminded
himself that he was aiming for less stalkerish. As it was, he was still reeling
from the dance, from the way Mia had felt pressed up against him. It’d taken a
tremendous amount of willpower to keep from pulling her lips to his. He had an
overwhelming urge to kiss her, to thrust his tongue in her mouth and see if she
tasted as sweet as he imagined.

For
a moment out there on the dance floor, Phoenix had thought she’d been longing
for the same thing. The way her blue eyes had glittered, her soft pink lips had
parted… She had been entirely kissable at that moment.

But
somehow he’d managed to resist the urge.

“Put
your tongue back in your mouth.”

Phoenix
rolled his eyes as he turned and came face-to-face with Tarik.

“Where’d
you go?”

“To
check on a couple of things,” Tarik said, handing Phoenix a bottle of beer
before turning to survey the crowd.

“And?”

“All’s
good. How was the dance?”

Phoenix
didn’t bother to answer. He knew Tarik was trying to rile him up, had been ever
since they’d stepped out of the elevator behind Mia.

“Ah.
Okay. She disappeared on you, huh? I knew you’d lose that magic touch at some
point.”

Phoenix
smiled around the lip of his beer bottle. He disliked Tarik almost as much as
he liked him. It was an ongoing battle simply to put up with his jabs, but
because they’d become good friends over the years, Phoenix had learned to
tolerate him. Barely.

“Fuck
you. I didn’t see
you
dancing with her.”

“The
night’s still young,” Tarik countered as he turned toward Phoenix.

When
the other man took a step closer, their arms brushing, Phoenix swallowed hard.
He tried to ignore the current of electricity that coursed through his veins
whenever Tarik dared get close enough, but it was getting harder and harder.
Then again, so was his dick. And for the life of him, Phoenix couldn’t explain
the untimely reaction. He’d already decided what he wanted, or rather, what he
didn’t
want. As far as he was concerned, the hedonistic thoughts and fantasies he’d
succumbed to recently didn’t count. But this… It was beginning to get out of
hand.

Tarik
leaned in closer still, his breath warm against Phoenix’s neck. “But I’m always
open to sharing.”

“Of
course you are,” Phoenix said.

Tarik
was as open to threesomes as Phoenix was. However, as the line that separated
Phoenix’s interest in Tarik had begun to blur, he’d put a halt to those
encounters. Not to mention, the tabloids were having a field day with their
speculation.

Didn’t
matter that Phoenix had jacked off to thoughts of Tarik and Mia nearly every
fucking day for the past week, and his fantasies seemed to be getting more and
more intense, more detailed. And unfortunately, they left Phoenix wanting
something he wasn’t sure he could deal with.

“Phoenix
Pierce.”

Damn
it.

“I’ll
be back,” Tarik rumbled against his ear before making a hasty exit.

Phoenix
didn’t blame him. He knew he should’ve escaped out the back door when he’d had
the opportunity. The voice coming from behind him was recognizable even before
he turned around. He also knew that he didn’t
want
to turn around
because what she had to say to him would probably only end up pissing him off.

But
he figured he might as well face the music. Get it over with. That or he was
going to spend the rest of the night avoiding her, and he preferred the
cat-and-mouse game he seemed to already be involved in. The one where he was the
cat, not the prey.

Pivoting
slowly, he came face-to-face with Teresa Somerhaus. “Teresa.”

“It’s
so good to see you,” Teresa said in that saccharine tone that made his teeth
hurt. When she leaned in, kissing him on each cheek, one at a time, he didn’t
return the gestures. He wasn’t much for kissing.

Well,
that wasn’t entirely accurate. He was all for kissing, but not this woman. Not
anymore.

“How’ve
you been?” Phoenix asked, aiming for polite. Pretending to actually give a
shit.

Teresa
held up her left arm, wiggling her fingers, and that was when he noticed the
huge rock weighing down her hand.

“Nice,”
he said, thinking nothing of the sort. He had known from the beginning that the
woman was out to land her a man with money — she’d outright told him so when
they’d first met. Apparently her goal had been achieved.

“Aren’t
you going to congratulate me?”

“Congratulations,”
he replied resolutely. He really didn’t give a shit that Teresa was now engaged
… again. If his count was correct, this would’ve been fiancé number four;
however, she’d never married.

“Thank
you. I’d love for you to meet my man, but” —Teresa glanced around the room
before she returned her gaze to his — “he’s currently talking business. You
know how that goes.”

Oh,
Phoenix certainly knew how to play the game, but he obviously differed from her
new man, because he would’ve never left his date to fend for herself or chat it
up with old fuck buddies while he talked business with the stuffy white collars
who filled the room. It wasn’t who he was. His encounters were usually only one
night, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a deep respect for women. He was always
up front with them about what he wanted and what he
didn’t
want, but for
the time he was with them, he did make an effort to treat them the way they
deserved to be treated, and leaving them alone at an event like this wasn’t in
his nature.

“So,
who’s the lucky guy?” he asked, attempting to look relaxed as he let his gaze
roam the room, still trying to locate Mia.

“It
would’ve been you, if you’d ever bothered to ask,” she said thoughtfully,
batting her thick, fake eyelashes as she always did.

And
it would’ve
never
been him, because he would’ve never asked. Not that
Phoenix was opposed to marriage or permanent relationships, but he often found
the women he ended up with weren’t looking for much more than what his wallet
could afford them. Teresa was a prime example. He always figured the day he
found a woman who looked past his net worth, he’d be down on one knee in an
instant.

As
he rapidly approached his thirtieth birthday, he still hadn’t found her.
Granted, he wasn’t going to tell Teresa that.

“Well,
congratulations again, Teresa,” he said politely, hoping to end the
conversation. Phoenix raised his eyebrows, as though peering at someone across
the room. “It was great to see you. I need to … uh…” He didn’t bother filling
her in, because at that point, she wasn’t paying much attention to him, anyway;
her gaze had drifted to the diamond sparkling on her finger.

“I’m
marrying Damien Landry,” Teresa blurted before Phoenix could get two steps
away.

The
admission drew him up short.

Damien
Landry. Was she fucking kidding? That man was a first-class asshole. And
according to Tarik, the bastard had cheated on his wife…

Mia.

Holy.
Shit.

“I
wish you both well,” Phoenix told Teresa now, a bald-faced lie. He forced his
feet to move, wanting to get as far away from the woman as he could. Where most
women had hands, Teresa Somerhaus had claws, and she did whatever was necessary
to get a good, firm grip on a man’s wallet. And that meant that she’d likely
been the woman Damien had been cheating on his wife with. Or one of them,
anyway.

Phoenix
wanted to pound the shit out of the guy.

Moving
across the room, Phoenix did another search, hoping to find Mia because… Hell,
he didn’t even know why he wanted to find her now. Knowing that she’d been the
trophy on Damien’s arm should’ve told him more than he cared to know about the
woman. So why he wasn’t heading in the opposite direction, he didn’t know that,
either.