[COMPLETED] When a handsome hotelier is accused of murder, he has no choice but to rehire the woman he fired after she claims to be a psychic who can prove his innocence.
Handsome, wealthy, and charismatic-- it's hard to believe anyone would leave p...
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Knox Marsden could hear them talking. Words were definitely coming out of their mouths but he couldn't seem to concentrate on what they were telling him. He heard something about some film company wanting to shoot a scene at his hotel.
Jason Nevell, Knox's assistant and best friend, ran a hand through his mop of dark red hair.
"Knox, do you need me to repeat myself?" Jason asked, his green eyes piercing into Knox, knowing his words had fallen onto deaf ears.
Carl, the general manager of the hotel, looked taken aback. "Why would you ask that? Of course, he's been listening to you."
Knox grimaced. Carl reminded Knox of a reptile with his shiny bald head and darting tongue that constantly licked his lips. He cleared his throat and pushed back his annoyance, reminding himself that Carl excelled at his job.
"Carl, you may go ahead with your day. Jason has everything covered."
"B-but I thought you wanted to discuss the new linens we ordered." Carl pouted before his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
"I'm sure Jason would love to hear all about it." Knox placed a hand on his assistant's shoulder and felt Jason stiffen in anger. He watched his friend's eyes narrow, knowing the redhead would try and make him regret it later. "And don't leave any details out. Jason loves to talk about linens."
The elevators opened with a ding and Knox hastened his steps to leave the two men behind as he made his way to his office. He nodded to Gloria, his head secretary. "I don't want to be disturbed."
Once in his office, he sat in his leather chair and closed his eyes.
"I am moving forward right now. Nothing can control me. I can do this."
Today marked the two year anniversary of his failed wedding. He pulled a framed photo from his desk drawer and stared at the beautiful brunette with her head tilted back in laughter.
Jessica Spencer held the title of being his ex-fiancée. She balanced her wealth with a wild streak Knox found attractive.
He refused to miss the woman who broke his heart. He didn't miss the way she always stole a sip from whatever drink he had on hand when she thought he wasn't looking. He almost forgot about her vanilla perfume. He definitely didn't remember the way she always groaned when he suggested they watch a Nicholas Sparks movie.
"They suck!" she'd say. " They never live happily ever after and I don't want to read a book by him much less watch a movie made from a book of his."
No, he didn't miss her. At least that's what he told himself. After all, she left him standing at the altar like a fool. She turned their perfect love story into a Nicholas Sparks book.
He carefully placed the photo back in the drawer near the bottle of whiskey that served as a constant test for him to stay in control.
He rolled his shoulders back and refused to think of the humiliation he suffered that day. The pitying looks his family and friends gave him were bad enough. Her family made excuses at first.
