Many Shades of Gray

Okay, I’m not a heroine, I’m a flesh and blood woman and I’ve made a lot of dumb ass mistakes in my life. So if you’re looking for someone to emulate I would suggest that you close this book and find someone else. I am not the one you’re looking for.

This is not a pretty little romance where all of the characters will do what you want and you will be left with a ‘feel good’ feeling. I have no idea how this will play out.

It’s my life we’re talking about and it’s real. Most days it’s so damn real that I want to rewrite it. It’s ugly and it’s brutal but it’s me. If you can handle real life then you might just be able to handle what I’m going to write.

If you’re still reading, good. You’re the one I’m looking for. What I will tell you will be an honest story of my life and I won’t pull any punches. I’m not asking you to root for me and I’m definitely not asking for sympathy. If I were the one reading this story and learning of my bitchiness for the first time I would definitely want to slap the hell out of me and fling the book across the room.

But even bitches have a reason for being that way. Trust me. Just don’t judge until you have all of the facts.

If you’re still with me, I suggest we get started.

* * *

Simon laid the page back on Janice’s desk and walked up the stairs to see if she was ready. He wondered what the hell her book was going to be about. He knew one thing for certain: She was definitely starting it out differently from any of the others. Another thing he knew: She had left the first page there for him to see. If she had not wanted him to read it she would have closed the door to her study, a signal that she wanted her office to remain private, or she would not have not printed it. But now he’d read it and she had him curious, as always.

* * *

Janice gazed in the mirror, surveying her appearance. Everything had to be perfect. She was about to be in the public eye. Again. And no matter how often she was, she always felt butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

As a writer she was used to the attention paid to her but this time would be different. This would be the first time that her relationship with Simon Kohl would be the main focus. It would also open the flood gates to questions regarding her meteoric rise to fame in the last two years. Had she slept her way there? And the answer to that was yes. Well, in a way.

For the past three years she’d been sleeping with the most powerful man in publishing. While he was mostly unknown to writers, agents and editors, the powers that be, the money moguls, knew exactly who Simon Kohl was. He owned more than half the publishing houses in the world and kept his anonymity by allowing those companies to operate as though he didn’t exist.

He owned everything from the tree farms where the trees were harvested especially to make the paper for his printing presses to a plastic factory that distributed the tiny holders that the reporters who tried unsuccessfully to catch a glimpse of him used to carry their name badges.

And she was about to be brought full force into his world. There would no longer be the whispered rumors or innuendos. Today they would announce their engagement. After today there wouldn’t be one single person left who would believe that she had a smidgen of talent. Though she’d made a name for herself long before Simon, she couldn’t deny that it was Simon that had boosted her career. Not for one second could she allow herself to forget that he held the authority to easily take away what he’d given her.

A shiver ran down her back and she frowned slightly, looking at her image in the mirror. Her long hair, soft and curling, framed her honey brown face to perfection. Her deep set brown eyes tilted up a little, giving her a bit of an exotic look. And her five-foot-nine frame gave her a regal bearing. Janice tilted her head to the side, allowing what she knew to be true to seep into her pores and become a part of her armor.

She was a beautiful woman; there was no doubt about it. But she’d given up a lot to get to this point in her life. Her very large and vocal family, including siblings, uncle, aunts and cousins, thought she’d given up her heritage. As they often said, she no longer acted black, whatever the hell that meant.

There had been a time in her life when she’d worn her feelings on her sleeve and accusations such as that had cut deeply. A shiver passed through her as she thought about Tommy Strong. Look what that relationship had gotten her.

“Hey, aren’t you ready yet?”

Janice’s eyes slid back to the mirror to peer over her shoulder at Simon, who’d just come to stand behind her. Simon was the final proof to the black world that Janice Lace was a sell-out. He was white.

Despite what her family thought she’d not set out deliberately to become engaged to a man outside her race. That had just happened. And why shouldn’t it? Simon was an extremely handsome man who’d chased her until she’d allowed him to catch her. He was a well built man in his late thirties, tall enough that she didn’t have to resort to wearing flats. Simon swore he was six-three, but she thought he was just a little under. He had the thickest, softest hair she’d ever felt on a man. It always made her think of dark chocolate. His smile never failed to cause a slight hitch in her chest, though she kept that from him. He had deep dimples in each cheek and when his lips were pulled back into a smile, she could just imagine falling into those dimples. As attractive as she found him, it was his eyes that enthralled her.

He had startling gray eyes that could shoot fear into the deepest marrow of her being. Filled with lust, they almost made her believe that the two of them were right for each other. Almost. But it really didn’t matter. In spite of her doubts she would stand beside him at the podium when he announced to the world that they would be getting married. And she would smile as though she’d won the top prize. It was, after all, what she’d wanted, what she’d worked her tail off to achieve.

“I’m ready,” she answered finally.

“What took you so long in here?”

She turned to face him. “I wanted to look perfect for you.”

“You’re always perfect. Are you nervous?” He narrowed his eyes and surveyed her coolly. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“No second thoughts.” She lowered her gaze. “What would make you think that?”

“The way you looked down just then and the fact that you didn’t want to marry me before. It’s almost as though you’re somehow ashamed of me.” He grinned. “That’s stupid, though, isn’t it?”

“Why would I be ashamed of you? Look at you. You’re a handsome man, smart and funny.”

“And don’t forget rich,” he teased. “That’s the real reason that you’re marrying me.”

His words made her wince and she turned away, wanting to withhold the truth from him, even if she couldn’t from herself. She had not told him how she felt. What good would it do to tell him that she loved him? She’d given her heart to one man and told him that she loved him. He’d left her knowing how she felt. Janice glanced at Simon. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Saying the words would only give him power over her, so she didn’t say them. She believed that was part of the reason he stayed interested. She allowed him and the world to believe it was his money she was after. After all, she’d not bothered to talk to him until she’d known exactly who he was.

“Come on, Janice, we both know you’re with me for what I can do for you. You’re not in love with me.”

“Are you in love with me?”

“I want to marry you.”

“That wasn’t the question. Are you in love with me?”

“I love having pretty things and I like the finality of marriage, knowing that I’ve closed the deal, so to speak. I don’t like what shacking up represents—instability, no commitments. It’s just a nice way of having someone available for a ready screw.”