Love Redone Read Free Page A

all there was the promise of sunny skies, maybe a little surfing, definitely some sun worshipping, and a whole lot of family time with the only people he ever let inside his frozen emotional world.
    Leaning forward , Nick pressed a small button on the control panel of the armrest and called up to his driver.  “Let’s stop at that bodega in the Village before we go to the hangar, Mr. Allen.”  Chuckling softly, he added, “You know I can’t be stuck across the world without my butterscotch.” He was amused to hear his longtime driver, a sensible but funny middle-aged man he generally called by his formal name, laugh, too.
    “Yes , sir, Mr. Barrett.  I knew you’d want to make that stop, so just hang on and we’ll be there before you know it.  Oh, and by the way, Claire sent a text asking me to let you know that she sent over the contracts from legal by courier. They should be waiting for you in the aviation center.”
    At the me ntion of his trusty right hand Nick had to admit that as far as personal assistants went, Claire Dennison was the best of the best.  She was efficient, discreet, resourceful, and above all, loyal to a fault.  He trusted her completely and was tremendously grateful for the stroke of good luck that had brought her to his attention. Ordinarily she would be going along on a trip such as this one, but she and her partner had recently adopted a baby and he’d insisted she have this time with her little family without the burden of travelling.
    His reverie broken by the car pulling up to the curb outside the funky bodega in the Village where they always seemed to stop, Nick watched as Mr. Allen exited the car and headed to the store.  This last-minute purchase had become a habit, for he never traveled without a handy bag of those little golden candies that, when he allowed the thought to eke into his mind, was yet another reminder of she who was best left in the shadows of his memory. Unfortunately for him, in his present mood, he was powerless to halt the flood of memories from a far simpler time to come roaring into his thoughts.
    She’d had a terrible sweet tooth , and being in the middle of nowhere as they were back then, there was no chance to stop at a market and grab a candy bar.  Hell, it was so relentlessly hot at times that something as sensitive to temperature as chocolate would have been reduced to a gooey soup if not refrigerated. Since refrigerators were a luxury used for critical needs, that wasn’t happening.
    Everyone at the compound, at least all the Western workers and volunteers, had found their individual ways of dealing with such cravings. At the time, for Nick, the solution was an old childhood favorite—black licorice.  His sister would send him boxes of the stuff. 
    For her, the one who hid in his heart, the sweet of choice had been butterscotch -flavored hard candies, which he now craved in an OCD fashion, most especially each time he traveled.
    He hadn’t had black licorice in forever , but he always had a few butterscotch candies tucked away within easy reach.  Just like his memories—within easy reach, and lately, knocking quite loudly at the walls of his consciousness.
    Maybe after he’d had some time away to refresh and regroup , these remembrances would ease up and he wouldn’t find himself after all these years waking up in the middle of the night with a need so deep and powerful that he’d lose any hopes of sleep. He’d become a restless nocturnal being, shuffling around his massive home dragging an array of technology with him wherever he went, relying on the easy distraction of global, 24-hour-a-day business to keep him sane.
    Nick knew keep ing busy was the only way to knock back regrets and self-loathing about his part in the shattering of two lives.  Running like the devil away from a longing so deep it left an ever-present ache inside him. After all, some things were best left alone.  Things that couldn’t change.  Realities that were