Shape Of My Heart
SHAPE OF MY HEART
Khardine Gray
Contents
Title Page
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Other Books by Khardine Gray
About the Author
Title Page
Shape of My Heart
Khardine Gray
Acknowledgments
To my dear family, friends, and my readers.
Where would I be without you…
This one’s for all of you. Hope you enjoy it.
Shape of My Heart
Copyright © 2017 by Khardine Gray
All rights reserved.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
The author asserts that all characters and situations depicted in this work of fiction are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design: Erin Dameron-Hill
Chapter 1
Amy rested her hands on her lap then brought them together over the silk fabric of her skirt.
She’d been sitting in the manager’s office at Orbit Consultancy for the last half an hour looking around and taking in the strange combination of décor. While it had quite an attractive floor-to-ceiling window, which faced the main road, she wasn’t sure what to make of the rest of the room and supposed that the designer must have been going for a…
Well that was just the thing. She wanted to say modern, but didn’t think that was quite correct so maybe original was a better choice of word to describe and interpret it.
It was the only explanation for the black-and-red-striped polka dot walls. And why anyone would put a lovely oil painting of the Trevi Fountain next to what looked like an African mask made of string cheese that dangled from the edges?
And the French windows. While the glossy white polish made them gleam, the wrought-iron flower baskets attached to either side were made to look like skeleton bones with roses peeking out of the gaps. On the baskets’ rims were a series of bright red miniature skulls running along in a row. She could see where the idea attempted to be imaginative and in line with that style that had emerged with skulls and bones mingling with flowers, but this here designer had done some mad weirdness that just ended up looking tacky. Tacky, and actually a little scary. It made her conjure up images of those movies where the characters ended up shipwrecked on an island and ran into a cannibal tribal community who displayed human skulls for trophies.
She thought the flower baskets were awful, but what caught her attention even more was the large oil painting to her left of one of those alien-like hairless cats. It had bright, bright yellow eyes that stared back at her and sat on a silky cream cushion in an armchair.
Amy grimaced at the sight and looked away as goosebumps prickled her skin.
The entire office needed redoing, but that was just her opinion. Perhaps the whole ensemble would look original and creative in another person’s view. She wouldn’t know who, but she guessed there would be some people who saw it that way.
Each to their own, she supposed.
Amy was a designer herself. Not an interior designer, but a fashion designer. Well…soon to be. Very soon. She had all the academic qualifications, having studied at The Fashion Institute of Technology in New York, and she had a wealth of experience from her placements at Chanel, Gucci, and Vogue. All she needed now was the job. Literally, the job.
She’d always dreamed of working for Christian Dior. She could have chosen to work with a smaller fashion house or brand, and would more than likely be well into designing by now, but Dior was where she wanted to be. She’d had her heart set on it.
Her first dose of inspiration came to her six-year-old self as she watched the Oscars ceremony on TV with her mother. She’d always remember how spectacular Michelle Pfeiffer looked as she walked across the red carpet, lighting it up with her bright yellow, strapless, Dior Couture dress with sequins splashed across the bodice. That was the moment, her moment, when Amy not only knew that she wanted to become a fashion designer but one that worked for Dior. She wanted to make dresses just like that one, and have celebrities parade them on the red carpet. That moment was a wakeup call for her. It was like her calling in life had been issued to her and she’d answered fiercely, fighting against any obstacles that came her way with unparalleled perseverance. She took it upon herself to gain all the knowledge she needed. There wasn’t anything about the fashion world or Dior that she didn’t know.
She’d had quite the journey since that memorable childhood day, and life hadn’t joked to issue her the rough stuff, but she kept the dream alive. She kept the dream alive even though each year it seemed to get further away from her.
Amy had been very fortunate with her education, which almost didn’t happen, and work so far. Despite her difficult upbringing she’d managed to stay on the path that should have led her to where she wanted to be, but life kept throwing obstacles at her. Like this recent thing with her mother.
It was a serious blow that had thrown her off track. Now she’d have to fight even harder to keep the dream alive in her mind as she took on this PA role. She’d been a PA in New York, but that was for Style Magazine. She’d worked with them for five years, three of which were spent working as a PA for Teddy Donovan, the editor in chief. When she took that job she’d been in two minds because it was different to what she was used to and didn’t exactly fit the designer route. However, a source from Dior had informed her that they valued people who had experience in supporting those with a decision-making capacity. So, having something like a PA role to the editor in chief of a top magazine on her résumé would be extremely appealing. The cherry on top was that Style Magazine was one of the favorites among designers. Right in league with the likes of Vogue and Runway magazine.
Amy had immersed herself in the role and it provided her with valuable skills she could add to herself. It was a job with a goal in sight, and Teddy had made sure that she was given all the opportunities to increase her knowledge of the industry and experience.
The PA role she was about to take on now would not be like that. Not even close.
This would be a regular, completely average PA role.
She straightened up in her chair as a slender, petite woman came in wearing a baby blue blouse Amy immediately recognized from Chanel’s latest spring collection. The black three-quarter-length trousers from the same collection complemented it fantastically like it would on one of the models on the runway displaying it. The woman was about mid-to-late fifties and had that elegance most people carried themselves with in L.A. Her sophisticated attire and
neat updo of fiery red hair only served to enhance this.
“Amy, so sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Zelda.” Zelda put out her hand to shake Amy’s. Amy stood up and shook it with a cheerful smile that she hoped hid her nerves. She wasn’t nervous about doing the job itself. It was everything else. Mainly the significance she placed on it for what it meant to her.
“That’s okay. I’ve just been admiring your office.” That was a lie, but her nerves were making it a little difficult for her to focus on conversation starters.
“Admiring? Geez, you’re too nice.” Zelda narrowed her bright green eyes and laughed. “This is my husband’s atrocious attempt at ambiance. I’m not usually so accepting but it would hurt him to no end if I told him the truth.”
That explained it.
“Oh.” Amy offered a smile and sat back down when Zelda lowered into her chair neatly positioned behind the immaculate, well-organized desk before them.
“So, thank you for stopping by. We don’t usually do this sort of meeting but I had to warn you that Mr. Mancini is a very special case.” Zelda sat back in her chair and sighed with a slight edge. “A special case that has to be handled with…tact and care, if you will.”
Orbit Consultancy was a Sports PR company who represented the L.A. Gladiators, L.A.’s superstar football team.
Teddy had made this opportunity possible for her. Even though it wasn’t fashion related, it was a route, if she could hack it, to take care of her current family situation and still have a hand in accomplishing her dreams. L.A. was where she needed to be to continue her designer application for Dior and—fingers crossed—work for them. She’d planned to move here the minute she got the okay that her application had been successful. But more importantly, taking this job would provide the funds she desperately needed to take care of her mother.
When Teddy had told her about the job she started researching straightaway and did all her ground work on Mr. Mancini. From what she read she knew that the poor guy had been through a lot.
“I understand and I will definitely be sensitive to his needs,” Amy said with confidence. Minus the fashion side of things, being the PA to a star athlete couldn’t have been that different to being Teddy’s PA. Sure she imagined there would be some notable differences, but the basic processes to carry out the role had to be the same.
Joshua Mancini was the star linebacker for the Gladiators. He’d played football all his life. Tragedy had however struck last year at the start of the season when his mother and sister were killed in a car crash. Understandably, he was unable to continue with the season and was left devastated at the news. She’d read all about the incident, and other things about him, during the week that she’d spent here in the dreadful hovel of an apartment she’d managed to get on her budget.
Her job was to help him get ready for the upcoming season in six months. She imagined it to be the standard paperwork filing and sorting, organizing events, doing emails, and just offering support. Surely it was that simple.
“That’s exactly what I was worried about.” Zelda sighed again. “Amy, I’ll be honest with you.”
Amy leaned forward, her curiosity piquing from the tentative tone Zelda’s voice took on. She would have thought that her sensitivity was exactly what was needed here, given what had happened to the poor man. Amy just assumed that Mr. Mancini needed someone to get on with the work and handle his affairs.
Zelda brought her hands together and knitted her perfectly manicured fingers. “This job is going to be difficult.” She bit the inside of her lips. “Teddy is a dear friend of mine and he spoke very highly of you. His word alone was sufficient for me to offer you the job.” Zelda smiled.
Amy really appreciated that. It was the first job she’d ever had where she hadn’t gone through the standard interviews and assessments process. She’d been lucky to have met someone like Teddy. He’d always looked out for her and was the kind of person that helped because he cared and wanted you to do well. He’d helped her to no end when she worked for him and he was still helping her out now.
“However,” Zelda pulled in a breath. “That is the same reason why I wanted to meet with you today before you started. I wanted to give you a full brief and heads up. Mr. Mancini is like your standard athlete with the super ego.”
Oh, that was what this was about. It hadn’t escaped her that Joshua Mancini was incredibly handsome and a masterpiece of a man. She’d seen the pictures and she guessed Zelda was going to tell her that she’d have to deal with his fans and football groupies.
“I’m used to working with celebrities,” Amy stated with a confident nod. She’d worked with a number of them on photo shoots and other fashion-related events. She’d long since lost that starry-eyed craze and knew how to handle herself.
She assumed that was why this job came with such an attractive salary. A salary that only an idiot would refuse. The role was full time and permanent, but she’d get fifty thousand dollars at the end of the first six months if she could get Mr. Mancini ready to play for the season, which started in September. To make the deal even sweeter, she was promised twenty thousand dollars as an extra bonus in three weeks if she could sort out all the backlog work from the previous PA and get him to the first scheduled TV appearance with ESPN. That was the first hurdle she had to jump over, which was her trial run. She planned to use that twenty thousand as a deposit for her mother’s surgery. The doctors had agreed to start treatment with a deposit and a subsequent installment plan. The price she was quoted was fifty-five thousand dollars, so by the time she was fully paid she’d have more than enough money for everything.
Amy was ready for this and failure was not an option. Her mother’s life depended on it.
“I wish it was that simple.” Zelda sighed, raising fine, arched brows. “As a PR company we’ve managed to keep a lot of the truth out of the media. What happened to Mr. Mancini was truly terrible, but I’m afraid it affected him a great deal and made him worse than he already was.”
It was the way she put it that held Amy’s attention. Worse than he already was? What did she mean by that?
“Really?” Amy widened her eyes and bit the inside of her bottom lip.
“Yes. I have to be frank with you because, aside from coming from Teddy, you seem like a nice person and I can only imagine that the attractive salary is what interested you.”
“Well, it is rather large.” It was a hell of a lot of money. More than what she’d made at Style in any year, and the fact that she’d get it in lump sums was even better for her situation.
“There’s a reason for that. I’m sure you must have done your research, but what the internet won’t tell you is that Joshua Mancini is a raging alcoholic suffering from deep depression and bereavement. He lost complete control when his mother and sister died, and all I know is that we’ve had ten PAs leave him in the last four months. I won’t scare you with the details but, put simply, before the accident he was a womanizing, self-righteous jerk and now he’s an uber-womanizing, self-righteous jerk with alcohol and mental issues. That’s the part you didn’t read about.” She pressed her mouth together in a tight-lipped smile. “Also, he tends to get overly sexual when under the influence, and you’re blonde and beautiful. His favorite type.” Her eyes clung to Amy’s, analyzing her reaction.
Zelda’s bluntness shocked her. Amy wasn’t expecting that at all. She definitely wasn’t.
“Still want the job?” Zelda asked.
“I need it,” was all Amy could say, because she did. There wasn’t a question about it. She needed this job, and that was the end of any contemplation for her.
“Well honey, I appreciate that, but if he grabs your ass you run like hell. No job is worth the hassle and stress that this man can cause. I just didn’t want you walking in on this blind eyed.”
“Okay.” Amy brought her hands together and pressed on her nails. This didn’t sound good at all, but she had to do it. It was a necessity, and she couldn’t see any other way of getting t
he funds she needed for her mother.
Her mother had been sick for a very long time. Amy was originally from Atlanta. She’d lived there with her mother and Tristan, her brother, before college.
Her mother had always had heart problems, probably because of all the time spent working so hard to support Amy and her brother. Particularly after her father walked out on them. Amy was eight at the time and her brother was five. Her mother had a part-time job at their school as a receptionist, but her father walking out heralded the need for her to grab another two jobs and move to a trailer park to keep their family going. It was a really rough time and the years of harshness took its toll. The week before Christmas last year Amy got a call from the hospital in Atlanta letting her know that her mother had a severe heart attack and was in intensive care. She was also informed that her mother’s insurance company wouldn’t cover the cost of surgery because she’d lowered her plan to the outpatient package. A way of saving money.
Amy had to use all her savings, everything she’d built up to go to L.A. It was everything she had, but was only enough to cover the cost of a temporary fix to keep her mother going. That was a stent placed in her coronary artery to keep it open and reduce the chance of another heart attack. Had her mother gotten the stent sooner it would have helped her out a lot, but the years of non-treatment and lack of care deteriorated her heart significantly and what she needed was a triple bypass. This was why Amy was here, and why she couldn’t run like hell if Mr. Mancini so chose to grab her ass.