Bombshell: A BWWM Billionaire Amnesia Romance Suspense Novel Read online

  Why not? You’re the boss. That’s what Tony would say. But, while Merrick considered himself a strong leader, he wasn’t an asshole. He was considerate of all people, especially his employees. His mama didn’t raise a jerk.

  An ear-shattering feedback loop caused everyone in the room to cover their ears and groan, Merrick no exception. He looked up and saw that a man had come on stage. He wore a starched white shirt and sequined red vest. He wrangled the microphone out of the stand. The horrific noise faded and the man tried again. “Testing, testing.”

  The sound problem apparently resolved, the man adjusted his bow tie, and grinned from ear-to-ear. “Welcome, Welcome. Welcome to the Misty Falls Semi-Annual Talent Show. I’m so excited you’re all here. We’ve got an amazing line up of talent to night, folks. And don’t forget - tonight’s winner will receive five hundred dollars. Show me the money, Florence.”

  Merrick groaned. A talent show was the last thing he’d expected. As much as he wanted to set up the threesome with the horny cocktail waitress and her twin, he didn’t want to sit through some painful amateur hour.

  He got up and put on his jacket, and made sure the note was deep in his jacket pocket. He pulled forty dollars out of his wallet, to cover his bill. He needed to split.

  Wait a minute, you should stay. As crazy at it sounded, he couldn’t chase away some voice telling him to stick around. At least for one act. What if he found exactly who he was looking for? Keeping his jacket on, he sat back down.

  A moment later, the show began, and Merrick instantly regretted his decision as the first act walked onto the stage.

  The girl was more homely than pretty and in her late teens. She had a look of pure terror on her face, and she kept her head down, as she sat down on a stool in front of the mic. She put the strap over her shoulders and adjusted her guitar on her lap. A stagehand hurried to the stage adjusted the arm so it was midway between the guitar and her mouth.

  The girl started playing her guitar, and the crowd got quiet. She played quite well, but when she opened her mouth to sing, Merrick cringed. Her voice wasn’t bad, but it was strained and barely audible. Nerves were getting the best of her. Merrick immediately felt sorry for her, because he hated public speaking – he couldn’t imagine what it was like to perform.

  The young performer’s eyes darted around the room as the volume in the room from people talking quickly out shined her own failing voice. Seeing that she wasn’t being appreciated, her voice cracked even more. A burst of high pitched and loud laughter erupted at the table behind Merrick. He whipped his head around and glared at some busty women regaling her friends at full volume about some hysterical tale. Merrick’s face heated. Didn’t they know a young woman was putting herself on the line up there? Back on the stage, the girl faltered, messing up a chord. When Merrick caught a glimpse of her face, he saw that she was on the verge of tears. His jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists.

  When the next roar of laughter came, Merrick had had enough. He slammed his fist on his table so hard it made a crashing noise and upset his empty glass. He pushed his chair back and moved to the table in a single stride. He towered over the rude woman and her friends, his fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to get his temper under control.

  The bar fell silent, and the girl on stage gasped. A muscle moved in Merrick’s jaw. He was making a spectacle of himself.

  The rude women rose from her chair, her friends trying to restrain her. She glared at Merrick, not the slightest bit intimidated. “What do you want?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Merrick could sense everyone was watching him. Don’t lose it. Be calm. Merrick forced himself to relax his hands. He took a step back and let his shoulders drop. He looked the rude women directly in the eye and said in what he thought was a reasonable and nonaggressive tone, “Please keep your voice down during the performances.”

  The woman ripped herself out of her friends’ grasps and lumbered towards Merrick. Merrick stood his ground. She was a head shorter then him and smelled strongly of tequila and root beer. She got right into his face, or as close as she could considering he was almost seven feet tall, and she was around five foot, five, in her heels.

  “What’s it to you? You got the hots for fatty up there?” She yelled.

  Merrick was shocked and several people in the audience gasped. This women wasn’t just rude, she was cruel. He was grateful he didn’t have to see the hurt look in the girls’ eyes.

  “I would appreciate it very much if you refrained from speaking about my daughter like that.” Merrick’s voice had an icy calm, but the threat implied seemed to galvanize the women’s friends. Or perhaps it was the daughter card. He couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that the rude women was hauled back to her seat and forced to be quiet, so the show could continue.

  Merrick returned to his seat, and the girl started from the top. This time, she both played and sang much better. Merrick started to get uncomfortable, however, when he noticed how she was looking at him while she sang. The emcee had to pry the girl off the stage, because she wouldn’t stop bowing and curtsying, her eyes glimmering with admiration as if Merrick were the lead singer in the current most popular boy band.

  As soon as the girl disappeared behind the portable curtain, Merrick decided he had seen enough. He’d been out of his mind to imagine he could find a real talent in a place like that. He wanted to get the hell out of there before his new fan came out from backstage and asked for his phone number.

  The master of ceremonies yelled to the audience from off stage, “Now for our next act, put your hands together for Bombshell.”

  Chapter Three

  Merrick stood up, determined to leave before the next act came onstage. But suddenly the room went pitch black. Shouts of alarm morphed to oohs and ahhs as a powerful spotlight hummed to life. The wide white circle shrunk in diameter and moved slowly across the back wall of the stage. It landed on a portable curtain set up in front of the door to the back stage, and the light got even smaller as it waited for the performer called, Bombshell.

  Intrigued, Merrick sat down again. A light clicked on over the piano, and the pianist began to play. A heartbeat later a voice filled the room. The small hairs on the backs of Merrick’s arms all rose at once. The angel’s voice was coming from behind the curtain. The voice sang no words, just hummed a tune. There were no other sounds, but the sounds of everyone in the room moving to the edge of their seats. The entire audience couldn’t wait to see who would come out from behind the curtain.

  When a long-fingered hand suddenly appeared from behind the curtain, fingers moving like a belly dancer in the spot light, every set of lungs in the room drew in a simultaneous sharp breath. Merrick leaned forward.

  He watched the hand, encased in a long white glove down a shapely arm which disappeared behind the curtain, only the white gloves showing. When the second hand came out to join the first in the spotlight, the tension in the room broke and there was a burst of excited chatter and applause.

  The piano music played on, without the voice, but when the voice returned, this time singing actual words, the hair rose on his neck and on his legs. The audience went dead quiet, and Merrick finally recognized the song being sung. The angel with the sensual hands and incredible voice was “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend,” one of his favorites. Merrick felt himself being drawn into her spell as the white-gloved fingers danced to the rhythm of the music. He didn’t take his eyes off the hands, desperate to be the first one to catch a glimpse of the face and body that belonged to that voice.

  When she finally appeared, Merrick swallowed. Around him, women shouted, men whistled, and everyone burst into applause. The spotlight illuminated the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Shrink-wrapped into a tight yellow dress, she moved like a slinky jungle cat, going in for the kill. Her voice was so strong she didn’t need a microphone, and Merrick couldn’t take his eyes off her as she danced and sang her way across the stage.

  Around
him, Merrick could sense the thrill coming from the audience. She had them eating out of her hand. No one was talking or checking their cell phone. Even the bartender stopped pouring drinks. Something warm flowed from deep inside his chest. He knew what it meant. She’s the one. I’ve found my star.

  Elated at his amazing good luck, Merrick focused on the girl. She’d gone through the whole song once, but showed no signs of stopping. Even though the song was familiar, the singer was using an unusual arrangement, and when she gestured to the pianist, he began a solo that Merrick was pretty sure hadn’t been part of the original score.

  As the piano played, the girl ratcheted up her performance by danced her way down the steps, and into the audience. Like a dance hall performer in some Western movie, she flirted and teased her way around the room, her curvaceous body moving to the rhythm of the piano music. As she approached his table, Merrick felt his mouth go dry. The spotlight shown on her. On stage, she’d been stunning, but this close, it was like looking into the chocolate sun. She leaned forward, giving Merrick a mouthwatering view of her rack. He gulped, wanting to say something, but he was unable to utter a sound. Her mocha eyes sparkled as they locked on his. He felt paralyzed by the force of her beauty.

  She smiled, a Mona Lisa smile, then lifted her gloved finger and slowly grazed the edge of his five-o’clock shadow. Merrick jumped as a bolt of electric current fired through the soft cotton of her gloved finger and headed straight for his member.

  Merrick couldn’t hold back a groan of pleasure. She must have heard it, because she rewarded him with a dazzling smile, then pushed her hand against his chest throwing him back against his chair.

  Everyone laughed, as she turned away to accost another patron, leaving Merrick short of breath, and the cock between his legs growing rapidly. Holy crap.

  He whipped off his jacket and covered his lap for the second time that night, as the girl continued. Get yourself together. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t see her, and gradually his business mind surfaced above the part of his body controlled by his cock. His business mind was trying to tell him something. She’s the one, you idiot. Don’t let her get away.

  When the piano solo ended, the girl called Bombshell started singing again, and worked her way back towards the stage. Merrick let go all thoughts of contracts and negotiations fade away as he rested his chin in his open hands and allowed her voice to wash over him.

  A kiss may be grand, but it don’t pay the rental, Diamonds are a girl’s best ….

  From behind him, Merrick heard a sharp yell of pain, followed by something heavy crashing to the floor. Merrick’s body tensed and he turned towards the noise. The spotlight had been knocked over, illuminating a dirty floor. Everyone in the room appeared to be in shock, but then the chair scraping started as people told each other to leave.

  Merrick saw a man lying on his side. He rocked on his side and moaned, he grabbed his head. He’d had an accident. He was injured. Merrick got up and started toward the poor guy to help him, but stopped when he heard a sickening sound. It was a horrified squeal, like a small animal caught in a trap. His singer! He spun around, worried that she might have fallen in the confusion. The injured lighting guy could wait. She was his priority. But as his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see that she wasn’t injured, that she hadn’t fallen down.

  She just stood there, staring at something behind him, her mouth forming into a single word. No.

  Merrick spun around to see what was making her so afraid. A large man was coming towards them, flinging chairs and tipping over tables as he came. Everyone screamed and people started to scatter. He roared like an angry bear, drowning out the sounds of breaking glass and falling tables and the shouts of fear from anyone in his way.

  “You whore,” he yelled. “I’ll teach you to walk away from me!”

  “Calm down,” a man said. He turned and saw the bartender speaking. He stood behind the safety of the bar. “Now Harold, please, you don’t have to do this.”

  The angry man named Harold stopped his forward momentum, then picked up the nearest chair.

  He lumbered back to the bar, lifting the chair over his head as he moved, then with a mighty yell, heaved the chair straight for the bartender. “Stay out of my business, Sam!”

  Sam yelped, then ducked – just as the chair hit. A shelve full of liquor collapsed and the mirrored wall broke into a million pieces.

  Merrick didn’t waste any more time. He hurried to the singer’s side and tried to pull her away. But she wouldn’t budge. She was frozen with fear, her eyes locked on the advancing lunatic. Merrick stopped being gentle and moved the girl so she was behind him. Then he stepped in front of the man, holding his arms out to fend him off.

  “Out of my way,” the man named Harold said before he made a lunge to sidestep Merrick so he could get to the girl. But Merrick had seen it coming and stopped him with an uppercut that cracked into the man’s ribs.

  The man grunted and doubled over, grabbing his ribs. When he came up, he was angry as a swarm of bees, and throwing punches wildly. Merrick ducked and swayed out of the way, then caught a whiff of the man’s cologne.

  “Move, get out of here,” He yelled to the girl as he grabbed a chair and crashed it over the man’s head.

  He fell to the floor, and didn’t move, other than to moan as he rubbed his head.

  Merrick grabbed the girl firmly by the arm and propelled her to the door. “Move,” he ordered. The girl didn’t speak, but she moved her legs and feet in the direction Merrick was taking her. They made it to the exit and down the steps. Her heel broke on the last step and she stumbled, but he held onto her. They kept moving into an almost empty parking lot. He beeped open his car with the remote, the helped the girl into the passenger seat of his recently acquired Land Rover.

  A loud gunshot cracked through the air, making him duck. The girl spun around, and he put his hand on her head. “Get down.” Merrick slammed her door shut, when the next shot hit. The sound of bullet hitting metal close by rang in his ear. He kept his body low as he ran around the front of the car, his body pumping with adrenaline as opened then hurled himself into the driver’s seat. He started his engine and with his door still hanging open, he put his car into gear and sped forward. He checked the rearview mirror. He could see the crazy man running towards them. “What’s happening?” said the girl beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lifting her head. And that’s when the glass broke next to her head.

  She screamed, “He’s trying to kill me!”

  “Not if I can help it!” Merrick floored the gas pedal, the wheels spun then he released the break and they sped out of the parking lot as two more shots were fired, none of them coming close.

  “Yes!” Merrick said, then pumped his fist in the air. He hadn’t felt such a rush, since – well ever. He’d escaped a deranged killer, and he’d saved the girl.

  Beside him, the girl looked pretty upset. He’d be upset too.

  “You alright?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I can’t believe that just happened. Do you want me to take you to the sheriff?”

  “No!” she said. Merrick stared at her. What was her deal? Of course he should take her to the sheriff.

  “Just don’t take me there. Please.”

  “But that guy shot a gun at you. At me. He needs to be locked up.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  Merrick stared at his great discovery. His future headliner. Even in the dim light of the car, and with the strain on her face, her blonde wig lopsided on her brown skin, he felt his chest tightening from just looking at her. Her eyes had a haunted look. Two huge mocha pools of pain and trouble. Maybe that guy was her husband, or a boyfriend. He’d heard of how victims of abuse were often unwilling to report their abusers.

  “Okay, I get it, you don’t want to press charges. But I do. He shot up my car, and my insurance won’t pay if I don’t get a police report.” Merrick said as he continued to exceed the speed limit on th
e windy roads on his way to town.

  “Please, don’t go to the sheriff, I’m begging you.”

  She was crying now, and Merrick felt like a heel. He didn’t want to make her cry. Whatever the deal was with the guy, she was clearly unstable. She was so talented, but if she was a nutcase, he’d have to pass. What a waste.

  “Look, you can stay in the car if you want. I’m not asking you to talk to them.”

  “No, please, you don’t understand.” Tears flooded down her eyes.

  “I don’t understand. Why don’t you want me to go to the sheriff?”

  “Because that was the sheriff.”

  Chapter Four

  She came to, uncertain. Head throbbing. Cold. Where am I? Her eyes focused and she saw that she was in a car. A man sat beside her. Who is he? Where are we going? A tree branch brushed against the side of the car as they inched along, scenting the air with the smell of pine. The lights from the car bounced back off the thick cloud of fog covering the road and caught the planes of the man’s handsome face. He leaned forward, peering at both sides of the road. Was he looking for something?

  The back of her head throbbed. Her hand went up to rub away the pain. Something was in the way. A clump of soft curls. It slid off into her hand, startling her. It was just a wig. She held it in front of her a moment, then let it fall into her lap. The pain was back. Worse than before. Her fingertips returned. Too tender to touch, but too tender not to touch. She found the spot and pulled her fingers quickly away. She looked at her hands. Why was she wearing gloves? In the dim light inside the car, she saw that the gloves were stained.