Phoebe - Not Quite A Pheonix Read online

  PHOEBE:

  A ‘Not-Quite’ Phoenix Love Story

  by

  Julia Mills

  “Things Aren’t Always As They Seem...

  Sometimes They’re Better.”

  Copyright © 2015 Julia Mills

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  NOTICE: This is an adult erotic paranormal romance with love scenes and mature situations. It is only intended for adult readers over the age of 18.

  Acknowledgements

  Edited by Lisa Miller with Angel Editing Services

  Cover by Linda Boulanger with Tell Tale Covers

  Formatting by Charlene Bauer with Wickedly Bold Creations

  Thank you so VERY much to the ladies of Julia’s Addicts!!! Y’all ROCK!!! I simply do not know what I would do without each and every one of you!!!!!!

  DEDICATION

  Dare to Dream! Find the Strength to Act! Never Look Back!

  Thank you, God.

  To my girls, Liz and Em, I Love You. Every day, every way, always.

  I don’t think there’s a woman alive that didn’t spend at least some of her childhood dreaming of being a princess. Lord knows, Disney has done a good job at giving us every make, model, and description imaginable. They fueled the imaginations of the little girls that wanted to be the damsel in distress waiting for her prince charming, the ones that wanted to hang with a bunch of little short men and sing in the woods and then even those of us that wanted to kick ass and take names. To overcome whatever fate threw our way with flair and witty one liners and come out on the other side to cheering followers, a kingdom saved and the hot prince by our side.

  Yeah, you guessed it. I was the latter, and still all these years later, the girl inside of me screams to be set free and take over the world. She wants to wear the crown, be the hero, and tell the rest of the world to kiss her fanny.

  I guess I’ve gotten ahead of myself, which is pretty much par for the course. My name is Phoebe. I’m presently sitting in a dungeon. (Yes, they still exist. No, I had no clue.) Waiting for my half-sister, (Didn’t know one of those existed either.) to decide if I’m to be beheaded, hung, or shot at dawn.

  To say our long overdue family reunion was something that Jax, a retired Marine and my best friend, would call a FUBAR, is an understatement. It all started when my best bud and I were on our way to Frank’s Place, a sports bar with the best wings in a five hundred mile radius, to celebrate me finally passing the BAR exam. I say finally, not because I’ve taken it more than once, but because it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do and now that I was officially a lawyer, I could justify the six-figure student loan debt staring me in the face.

  Thankfully, I had graduated in the top one percent of my class and landed a job with the top firm in the state. Unfortunately, if Helena, my bitch of a half-sister, has her way, it’s not going to matter. But I digress…

  Jax and I were walking down the sidewalk discussing the finer points of throwing darts when a tall, good-looking man with deep gray eyes and a dimple in his chin stepped in my path. My first thought was ‘Whoa! Break me off a piece of that?’ then ‘What the hell does he want with me?’ He held a black leather portfolio in one hand while his other disappeared into the interior pocket of his navy pinstriped jacket that was obviously made just to fit his incredible body. His baritone voice was rich and deep, and washed over me like a goblet of fine brandy. I felt warmed from the inside out and had to shake myself back to reality so as not to miss his words.

  “My name is Grant Hollingsworth with Hollingsworth, Musgrave, and Walton.” He held out his business card as he continued. “Am I correct in assuming you are Phoebe O’Byrne?”

  I felt Jax bristle at my side just as my brain restarted. The guy knew my name. He was looking for me and my intuition was telling me it was important.

  In any other circumstance, I would’ve been flattered that a partner with one of the largest, most prestigious law firms in the state was standing on a sidewalk in a less than stellar neighborhood looking for little ol’ me. But I learned early in life to listen to that little voice in my head, and at that moment, she was telling me I needed to hear what Grant had to say. Grabbing Jax’s clenched fist and gently squeezing before he could say anything inappropriate or worse yet, throw a punch, I quickly answered, “I am.”

  Still holding out his business card for me, Mr. Grant Hollingsworth of Hollingsworth, Musgrave, and Walton asked, “Is there some place a little more private where we may speak?”

  Now, I know some of your brains have already cued the dramatic music and are screaming, “Do not be alone with that man!”

  First of all, ‘DUH’!

  Second of all, I have a six-foot eight-inch retired Marine who hits first and asks question later at my side. Many years ago, he became the big brother I never had, and let’s just say, he takes his job seriously.

  Not to mention, I’m no shrinking violet myself. At five foot eight and… (Did you really think I was gonna tell you my weight? Yeah, okay.) Let’s just say my curves have curves and like most women I look in the mirror and ask ‘Does this skirt make my butt look big?’

  I spent my formidable years being shuffled from one foster home to another because I have an uncanny knack for acting first and thinking later. During all those years and all those homes, I learned how to take care of myself. Then Jax came along. I can’t say I’m a good fighter, but I can talk my way out of damn near any situation. My last foster mom, Greta, the best woman I’ve ever known, told me that I could tell people to go to hell and they’d look forward to the trip. I guess that’s why I decided to be a lawyer, or maybe I just like to argue. But once again I’m off track. I do that a lot.

  I finally took the card from Mr. Hollingsworth’s outstretched hand while I considered how to answer. It was obvious we couldn’t continue to block the sidewalk. Goodness knew I was tired of being bumped into, and if I had to say ‘Excuse us’ one more time I was going to scream. The lawyer studied me with the eyes of a trained observer. A lopsided grin graced his lips for a split second right before I spoke.

  (Wonder what he knows that I don’t…besides everything.)

  “We were just on our way to Frank’s.” I pointed over his shoulder at the orange and green neon sign less than half a block away. “You’re welcome to join us.”

  “Phoebe,” Jax growled at my side. Squeezing a bit harder on his fist to let him know I had things under control, I waited for Mr. ‘Eight Hundred Dollars an Hour’ to respond.

  Turning to the side and motioning with all the grace of a dancer, the lawyer responded, “Lead the way.”

  Giving Jax a look that said ‘Listen first, hit later’ I dropped his hand and nodded my head for him to lead the way. Figuring if I didn’t stay between my best friend and the attorney, that the poor lawyer would end up maimed in some way, shape, or form, and it would be a shame to see something so pretty harmed. Jax was not happy and was sure to accentuate the point by grumbling something I couldn’t quite make out as he passed me.

  Yeah, I probably should’ve listened. I’ve been known to leap first and look later, but the little voice in my head was yelling ‘Go! Go! Go!’ and she’d never been wrong. But if I was being honest with you and myself…I was curious. I really wanted to know what someone with the
kind of money it took to have a lawyer the caliber of Mr. Hollingsworth wanted with an orphan.

  So we traipsed down the walk in a nice little row, entered Frank’s Place, grabbed a seat, and sat looking at each other for about ten of the most awkward seconds in the history of the world. Not one to hold back, I spoke first, “Okay Mr. Hollingsworth, we’re here. This is as private as it’s gonna get. Whatcha want with me?”

  He smiled, and for just a moment, all thought fled from my brain. To say that Hollingsworth was good looking standing in the street with his air of authority and look of superiority on his handsome face was an understatement, but when he smiled…Damn was the only word that came to mind.

  Jax kicked me under the table, partially restoring my sanity, and I realized Hollingsworth was talking. “Please, call me Grant.” (Oh, yeah, I’ll call you Grant alright. Give me a break, he was hot!)

  Nodding, I watched as he opened the black leather portfolio that I was sure cost more than all the furniture in my apartment plus most of my shoes. He pulled out several papers while continuing, “I understand congratulations are in order. Passing the BAR on your first try is a feat to be commended. As managing partner, I get to see the list of official candidates as soon as it’s available. A near perfect score is something to be proud of.” (Managing partner? Here? I figured he was the son. Something was definitely up. Well. At least I didn’t have to wait for an email to get my score.)

  “I won’t insult your intelligence by explaining these to you,” he said, handing me the papers he’d been fiddling with. “I’m sure what you are about to read will come as quite a shock and I am sorry for the crass manner in which this is being handled. You will see that it is incredibly time sensitive. The rather inept firm previously employed by Ms. O’Byrne searched for you for almost three months, with no results.” He paused and I had to wonder if I was supposed to ooh and ahh at his expertise, but instead I nodded for him to continue.

  He cocked his head to the side, studying me for just a moment, and then said, “Read them, Miss O’Byrne. I’ll answer any questions you may have when you’re finished.”

  I finally looked down, thankfully prepared by Grant’s words, because what I saw would’ve sent me into cardiac arrest without preparation. The bold words at the top of the page faded in and out of focus for a split second as my heart skipped a beat.

  LETTER OF INTENT

  DISSOLUTION OF BIRTHRIGHT

  DESCENDANTS OF MAGDELINA MARGARET O’BYRNE.

  I began reading. Still working hard to focus. I knew the name…she was my birth mother. The woman that had left me on a park bench when I was just a few hours old. The woman I inherited my flaming red hair from. Hair that no matter how many times I tried to bleach, dye, or even highlight, returned to its natural fiery red within days.

  Not that I’d ever seen Ms. O’Byrne… or ever would. Everything I knew about her came from a faded photo with her name on the back and a crumpled birth certificate that I was given when I was old enough to understand. I was told they’d been in the bottom of a bag that was found with me all those years ago.

  When I turned eighteen, I searched for her the best I could. My mentor and college advisor, who also happened to be a well-respected civil attorney, provided me with his expertise and that of a private investigator. Six months later, we found she had passed away and her remains had been returned to her family home in Greece. At that point, I let bygones be bygones and moved on. I’d never had a mom and never would. I made my peace with my place in the world. But now the past was back to bite me in the ass.

  The more I read of the document the more my intuition told me to get up and walk away. Forget that my long lost mother had reached out from the grave to mess with my world A single drop of perspiration slid down my spine as I bit the inside of my cheek and tapped my left foot…all my nervous ticks coming to life at one time. Jax must have felt my anxiety, because he laid his arm around my shoulders, letting his fingers rub circles on the top of my arm, just as he used to do when we were kids. If not for my big bad protector, I knew I never would have survived most of the foster homes we landed in.

  Pulling my attention back to the task at hand, I sifted through all the legal double talk and basic BS that lawyers put in every document with the hopes that the general public will get bored, stop reading, and just sign on the line. There were several revelations that I worked hard to hide my surprise at uncovering. I had a sister…well, a half-sister. My mom had a title, like royalty or something. (But let’s face it, who doesn’t on those small European islands?) And…drum roll please…I had to go to her castle in Crete for a hearing because some douche was trying to take away my birthright.

  Now, I know what you’re thinking. Why would I care about a birthright from a woman that left me, or a family that never even looked for me? And I have no good explanation to give you except…I’m painstakingly curious. Once presented with a conundrum, I have to follow it to the end and find the solution or go absolutely mad.

  Looking through my lashes to find Grant intently watching my every move, I asked, “And when does all this take place?”

  “Monday at eight am.”

  “Monday?” I tried to keep from shrieking, but knew my response was louder than it should’ve been. “Like three days from today, Monday? In Greece?”

  “Yes, that is correct.” Grant answered at the same time that Jax grumbled through gritted teeth, “No fucking way.”

  A flash of something otherworldly, almost feline, flashed in Grant’s eyes so quickly I wasn’t sure I’d really seen it, but the growl that came from low in his throat was unmistakable. The malice with which he glared at the best friend I’d ever had was more than a little intimidating, but Jax met the attorney head on. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I could feel the tension thrumming through his body where our arms touched, which told me he would be on Grant in mere seconds. Not willing to see where the two macho assholes would take their sudden shows of aggression, I grabbed Jax’s arm while pounding my other fist on the table to draw the attorney’s attention. Once I was sure ‘the boys’ were listening, I did a little growling of my own.

  “Knock it off, you two. This is not the time or place for a pissing contest. If you can’t behave like civilized humans, then one of you has got to go.” I looked from one man to the other as they continued their version of a Mexican standoff. Finally, both gave a slight nod but still didn’t break eye contact. It was as close as I was going to get to an answer, so I pressed on. “How exactly am I supposed to get to Greece by Monday morning considering it’s almost eleven pm on Friday night?”

  Grant slowly turned his head, spearing me with a look I’m sure was meant to intimidate, but only made me roll my eyes and shake my head. (Men!)

  “I have a private jet waiting at the airport. We can be wheels up in an hour.”

  Suddenly my world was spinning and I ended up face to face with my best friend. To say he was pissed would be an understatement, but I could tell it was more with the situation and the man sitting across from us than with me. Before I could catch a breath he was bitching. “There is no way in hell you’re going anywhere with this asshole. You don’t even know if he’s for real. I mean, seriously Phoebs, what the hell? He met us on the street, handed you a business card, and followed us in here with some cock and bull story about your mom. Are you really buying this shit?”

  He paused and I saw fear mixed with his anger. Fear for me. Jax had done two tours in Afghanistan and worked private security for the government since he’d come back stateside, so his worry gave me pause. I knew I needed to speak to him alone. Nodding my understanding, I patted his arm before returning my chair to its forward position and looking at the attorney that had turned my world upside down.

  Speaking like I was dealing with opposing council, because let’s face it, that’s what he was, I said, “While I appreciate your attention to detail, I do have to ask that I be allowed to look at this document a bit closer and take at least a few minutes to
think about all I have learned here this evening.” I held up my hand to stop his rebuttal until I could finish. “I understand the time constraints. I will contact you no later than two pm tomorrow afternoon and we can go from there, okay?”

  He took a deep breath that I knew for sure was to return him to his normally cool demeanor, and spoke like the last few minutes had never happened. “That will be fine. I will wait to hear from you.”

  In the next instant, he was standing while pushing his chair against the table. Grant picked up his portfolio and held out his hand, presumably for me to shake. Getting the best angle I could and wondering what all his posturing was about, I shook his hand like Greta’s husband, Van, had taught me. It was then I realized he and Jax were once again glaring at one another. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Hollingsworth.”

  His eyes snapped to mine. I didn’t hide my grin. They were both acting like jerks and I was pissed he’d ruined our celebration. I really like Frank’s chipotle barbeque wings; they are a guilty pleasure of mine. The attorney took the hint, dropped my hand, and then turned and left without another word.

  Turning in my chair, I punched Jax in the arm. “What the hell is your problem? You know I can take care of myself.”

  Not in the least fazed, he smirked, “Yeah, I know, but that guy’s an ass. I would kill him on general principle. Something about this whole thing doesn’t feel right. There’s no way I’m letting you get on a plane with him, let alone fly halfway around the world.”

  More pissed than I’d been in a long time and not exactly sure why, I jumped up, almost knocking my chair over, and grabbed my bag. “Like you have any say in the matter at all…”

  The words had no sooner left my mouth than Jax was on his feet. Because of our height difference, he had to bend at the waist, but nonetheless we were eye-to-eye and nose to nose and I could see he was just as pissed as I was. Through gritted teeth, he whispered, “Do not push me on this Phoebe. Something is up with that guy.”