On His Terms Read online

  Fear tingled her spine, and she gripped her cell phone, wishing she’d just run on the road like Julie always told her to do.

  “Ally Shore?” a very large man in a dark suit spontaneously appeared nearby.

  Ally screamed at the top of her lungs, terrified at the man who towered over her. And she was utterly alone.

  “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here on behalf of Hale Westbrook.” His voice was deep, really deep.

  She was dumbfounded. “Hale Westbrook?”

  “Let me explain, Ms. Shore” he said, determined to get her to relax. “I’m Charles, Mr. Westbrook’s personal assistant.”

  She watched his every move. He didn’t look like any personal assistant she had ever seen. As he adjusted the spiral wire coming from his ear, she began to visibly tremble. This man was probably three times the size of her. He could crush her in an instant and nobody would have a clue.

  Until the rubber sole of one of her New Balance sneakers got discovered sixteen years from now.

  “Mr. Westbrook would like to meet with you. He wants to make it up to you. Said you falling was all his fault.”

  “Make it up to me?” she was beyond confused. This couldn’t be real. Maybe she was on a hidden camera show or something.

  “Here’s Mr. Westbrook’s card. Call him ASAP- he’s a busy man.”

  By now she felt relatively convinced that Charles was not going to dismember her and hide her body in the woods, but she couldn’t let go of the shakes. She reached her trembling hand out to the giant and took the card from him.

  “Sorry if I scared you. I needed to get to you alone- this needs to be kept confidential for now. Until further notice.” Not even the slightest smile on the giant’s face.

  “I can’t tell anybody that the governor wants to apologize to me?” she was both confused and annoyed at the rules she was being forced to comply with.

  “He wants to make it up to you, not apologize.”

  She looked at the card, looked up at the bone-crushing assistant, and nodded.

  “One more thing, Ms. Shore,” Charles looked down into her eyes. “Are you in a relationship?”

  “What? No. Why?” she shook her head.

  “Call the number, Ally,” he smiled. “Have a great day.”

  * * *

  Ally ran back home, fast, all the while having the strangest feeling in her stomach. She had no idea what all of this was about, but found it completely odd that she was to keep quiet about it all.

  Why the hell did he ask if I’m in a relationship?

  And then came the next thought, fast on its heels.

  Could Hale Westbrook really be interested in me?

  But she discarded that ridiculous notion just as quickly as it had come into her mind.

  She took the business card out, looked up at the sky, and reached into her pocket for her phone.

  She would never forgive herself if she didn’t at least see what all of this was about. A moment later, she’d dialed the number and there was ringing on the other end.

  “This is Hale.” A stern but familiar man’s voice came through.

  She took a shaky breath and then spoke. “Hello, this is Ally. Ally Shore. From the diner. I fell and you helped me up. Your bodyguard gave me your card.” She was proud that she was able to get so many words out, but equally disappointed in herself for being so nervous…

  “Yes, of course. How are you feeling? You fell pretty hard.”.

  “No permanent damage. Thanks for coming to my aid,” Ally said.

  “It was my pleasure, Ms. Shore,” he said.

  “Your bodyguard…”

  “Charles isn’t a bodyguard. He’s my personal assistant. Helps me with my campaign mostly.”

  “Your assistant said that…” She paused, embarrassed that he might somehow see her blushing through the other end of the phone. “He said you wanted to make it up to me.”

  “Not quite. But he needed to say that to you, otherwise you might never have contacted me.” She could almost hear him smirking through the phone.

  Ally was so confused. And if she was already skeptical about this whole situation, and politicians in general, now she was downright distrustful.

  “So your bodyguard lied to me?” she said.

  “He’s not my bodyguard. And he had to do that, as I said. It was my only chance.”

  “I’m very confused Mr. Westbrook,” said Ally.

  “I have a proposition for you. But we need to discuss it in person.” His voice took on a very serious tone.

  Ally couldn’t believe what was happening. Here she was, standing right outside her sister’s apartment, talking to billionaire Hale Westbrook about a proposition—something that required him to see her in person.

  He continued, “My email address is on the card that Charles—the man you like to call my bodyguard—gave to you. If you want to hear more, send me an email and I’ll reply with a meeting location and a time to discuss this further.”

  As much as Ally was skeptical of this whole scenario, her heart was pounding like a drum. Her body was telling her that this was exciting, whatever this was.

  “I want to know more before I meet with you,” she insisted.

  “We need to meet in person. I can’t budge on that one,” said Hale.

  “I don’t get it. First, your bodyguard sneaks up on me in the woods. Now you’re telling me I need to meet with you in secrecy. I didn’t even know who you were before you walked into my diner.”

  “If it makes you feel better, you can tell one person that you trust that you and I will be meeting. You must understand, Ally- I have a lot of people watching my every move. A lot of enemies, Ally. The phone just isn’t safe.”

  “I have your card. I need to think about this,” she said.

  “Please, think hard. This is not something you have to do. It’s a choice, Ally. Perhaps one of many more to come for you and me,” he said.

  “Okay, I’ll think it over,” she said, hanging up the phone.

  But her mind was already made up. Right or wrong, she was going to meet with him.

  * * *

  She felt strange driving through La Jolla in her beat up 1999 Toyota Corolla. Ally could hardly afford to buy groceries in La Jolla; the amount of wealth in this area was simply incomprehensible to her. But she had to see what all of this was about. His words, ‘you and me’, kept echoing in her mind. And the electricity that she felt from his touch in the diner, she would do anything to feel that again.

  She was looking for his address, 12 Shelly Drive. She could smell the ocean and she knew she must be getting close. As she arrived at the billionaire’s street, she noticed that his home was the street. There were no other properties aside from his.

  That figures.

  She arrived at the cobblestone driveway, and the iron gates opened immediately for her.

  His estate was unimaginable. Well, she had imagined rich people’s homes before, and she had certainly seen them from a distance. But to be this close was altogether different.

  The entry doors alone were larger than life, each guarded by royal-looking pillars. She knocked on the door with her delicate hand, and the thick, hard wood absorbed almost the entirety of her knock. As she reached for the bell, a voice came through an outdoor intercom:

  “Welcome, Ally. Please come around back.”

  There was a slate stone path that lead to the back. As she followed the path, she considered turning around and never coming back. But the smells of the sea kept drawing her in. And the fact that the pathway was lined with an infinite array of exotic flowers didn’t hurt either.

  As she came around and looked up, her eyes were met with the most incredible, heavenly view that she could possibly imagine. Beautiful, plush green grass surrounded by bed after bed of flowers, all opening up to a breathtaking panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean.

  “Come, please sit down,” a deep, familiar voice called to her.

  Ally hadn’t noticed
Hale Westbrook sitting off to the right. He definitely looked the part of the super rich governor of California, now even more so than in the diner. His perfect hair slightly disheveled, but only from the ocean breeze that travelled across his estate lawn. He wore khakis and a soft, white cotton shirt that was un-tucked from his pants. And his feet were bare.

  This man was living a good life.

  “I see you found the place alright?” His eyes scanned her body from head to toe.

  “Yes, it helped that you’re the only one who lives on the entire street,” she said, fiddling with her ear lobe.

  He grinned. “Do you drink wine, Ally?” He handed her a glass of white wine before she could even answer.

  The truth was, she never drank aside from weddings and important reunions. But today felt important enough.

  As a sudden roar of the ocean waves caught his attention for a moment, she seized the opportunity to let her eyes wander across his gorgeous body. She hated feeling this attracted to a stranger, but something about him felt so familiar to her. He must make everyone feel this way, she thought. That’s probably what makes Hale Westbrook, Hale Westbrook.

  “Thanks for coming, Ally. I give you a lot of credit for meeting me out here under these circumstances.” He sipped his wine, not breaking his eye contact for even an instant.

  “What circumstances?” she asked.

  He paused for longer than he should have. Ally forced herself to stay calm as he trapped her in his gaze.

  “I know this is awkward for you Ally. It is for me too,” he reached for another sip of wine as he massaged the side of his neck with his large fingers. “But I’m glad you didn’t let uncertainty stop you from giving me a chance.”

  “Hopefully I didn’t make the wrong choice,” she said, smiling gently.

  His eyes grew more serious. “I need your help with my campaign.”

  She swallowed hard. “How can I help you?”

  “Sounds strange, I know.” He adjusted his body and leaned in a bit closer to her. “But I think you’re selling yourself short.”

  “Mr. Westbrook, with all due respect, what do you want from me?” She crossed her arms in front of her.

  “That photo of you and I, from the diner… People liked it, a lot,” he paused as if struggling to find the right words. “And furthermore, I’ll be totally frank with you. It’s a tough sell- a wealthy governor with no wife or family of his own. Just doesn’t look very relatable,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “Maybe our meeting the other day was some kind of fate, destiny. I don’t know. What I do know is that you coming into my life this way, seems to be like the final puzzle piece I’ve been searching for. I need someone who can help the public see me as someone they can trust.”

  “You need a woman to make people trust you?” she said, completely shocked at what he was telling her.

  “Yup. That’s pretty much it. But not just any woman,” he said.

  Blood rushed to her cheeks as he inched his chair to within arms reach of her. “You’re twenty two years old, you live with your sister, and you work in a diner. If you’re lucky, someday you’ll reach your goal and become a teacher.” He placed his hand on the soft skin just above her knee, stealing the breath from her throat.

  “Ally, I saw something in you from the moment I first laid eyes on you,” Hale continued. “You’re meant for so much more than this.”

  Even while breathless from his touch, she felt violated. “Look, thank you for your concern but there’s nothing wrong with my life,” she said. She rose from her chair, her eyes narrow with anger.

  “Ally, you’re right, there’s nothing wrong with the life you’re living, as long as you’re being honest with yourself,” he paused. His eyes softened, “I’m offering you a chance at something real special here.”

  She fought back the welling in her eyes. Memories flooded her brain—memories of loss and suffering and hardship. And the pain that she and her sister had suffered… it was almost so unbearable that she couldn’t even allow herself to think about in this moment.

  She let out a giant gulp of breath that she had been holding for too long. “I like my life just fine. I really don’t need a total stranger telling me what I need to change and I certainly don’t want to be your pretend girlfriend.”

  He stood up and walked towards her, gently grasping her wrist with his hand. “I’m offering you a good deal, Ally Shore. You’ll be well-compensated. And I can at least promise you it should be a hell of a ride together,” he said.

  He looked out at the ocean, and for the first time she saw a hint of discomfort in his eyes. She wanted to know so much more about this man, but knew she’d never get the real story behind Hale Westbrook.

  He looked at her and studied her eyes more intently than ever. “Without you, my

  campaign is finished. I need you Ally Shore. Maybe I’m the one who needs saving.”

  His sudden honesty stunned her into silence.

  She thought long and hard before she responded. She still wasn’t even sure what he expected from her. More specifically, what was she expected to give up? The last time she had ever agreed to anything with another man, she had been burned at the stake. And I’ll never get burned again, she told herself.

  And yet she wanted to trust him so badly. She needed to trust him. It had been too long, too many years obsessing over her scars. His deep blue, alluring eyes made it almost impossible for her to think rationally.

  “What would I have to do first?” she asked.

  “You’ll be giving up certain duties and routines you’ve got now, and trading them in for new ones. I think you’ll enjoy your new duties quite a bit more, but we’ll have to try it and find out.”

  “I can’t give up my job. Or my night classes. I’ve been working for years trying to make up for lost time,” she said.

  “Relax, Ally- you don’t need to worry,” he said. “The diner and night school will always be here, but what I’m offering you is a unique opportunity. Take it and you can take the ride of your life. I promise, you won’t ever need for the finer things. Everything will be provided to you.”

  “Do whatever you tell me to do and you’ll keep feeding me money? Is that what you’re basically offering me?”

  “Ally, it’s not that simple. There’s a big picture in this, but I need you to take the first leap of faith.”

  She had mistrusted men for years, and for good reason. But Hale had seemed different at first.

  Only now she knew that he wasn’t. “I’m sorry Mr. Westbrook. I need to go. Thanks for the invite,” she said, placing her wine glass onto the bistro table.

  He inclined his head, not rushing after to stop her, as she’d secretly hoped he might.

  Moments later, she drove away from Shelly Drive, vowing never to return. Why the hell did I even call him in the first place? She asked herself. She knew what she had to do- put Hale Westbrook out of her mind forever and get back on track with her life.

  * * *

  She had to get back to her routine. She’d worked too hard up to this point, rebuilding her life slowly but surely ever since she was a teenager, and she refused to let some callous politician get in the way. But she was still fighting her way out of the fog of what had happened on Hale Westbrook’s estate lawn. Part of her knew, deep down in the bottom of her soul, that the two of them shared a connection.

  “Let’s go Ally, you’re three plates behind. I got pancakes losing their steam over here,” Chef Denver barked out at her.

  She was on her third cup of coffee already, and it was only 7:15 in the morning. This was going to be a long day.

  “You alright kid?” Martha asked.

  “Never better,” Ally said.

  “Can’t a man get some food around here?” A pot-bellied regular shouted at Ally.

  She looked down at her notepad. “What’ll it be Walter?” she asked.

  She peered up, catching him salivating o
ver her breasts.

  “Give me the Hungryman Special.”

  “Auntie!” Ally turned to see her sister Julie, along with Gracie, coming in for their Friday morning visit to the diner.

  “Hey girl! Nice braids- you look like a real princess! Who made your hair so pretty?” Ally asked, kneeling down to scoop her up.

  “Mommy did them!” Gracie smiled, beaming with pride.

  Sharp pains splintered Ally’s heart.

  “You guys in for some of Chef Denver’s sweet potato pancakes?” Ally asked, pretending everything was fine.

  “You betcha, best pancakes in southern Cali,” Julie said.

  “I always knew I liked your sister,” Chef Denver shouted from behind the counter.

  Who doesn’t like my sister?

  The pancakes came in a flash. Julie and Gracie wasted no time diving into the chef’s specialty.

  “Auntie, I saw your picture in the newspaper!” Gracie said.

  “I know girly, crazy stuff, don’t you think?” said Ally, cringing inside.

  “Yeah, some picture for sure,” Martha chimed in.

  “Who was that man?” Gracie asked.

  “Just some businessman, sweetie,” she paused to take a breath. “That’s all he was.”

  “Hate to chew and screw, sis, but Gracie has a b-day party at eleven,” said Julie.

  The older Gracie got, the sharper the pain Ally felt each time Julie was there to watch the beautiful girl’s life unfold. Time was moving fast. And Ally was missing out on so much. But she had mastered the art of covering her feelings up.

  “Later guys. Have fun cutie!” Ally kissed Gracie on her forehead, and closed her eyes as if to make a wish. Not that she believed in wishes, she was more a believer in hard work. But there were some things in her life that even hard work couldn’t seem to get her.

  As Julie and Gracie left, Ally looked at the clock.

  Six more hours in this hell hole, then off to class.

  “Hey waitress, you hungover or something? Where the hell is my check?” Mike, one of the diner’s most devoted patrons, loved to give Ally a hard time. Partly because he was the type to disrespect all women whenever he got the chance, but even more so in Ally’s case because she had rejected his invitation to go on a date with her a few months back.