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THE WILDE TOUCH: Book Two of The Touch Series




  Table of Contents

  The Promotion

  Incognito

  Crockett’s Spy Flies

  The Teacher

  Stuck with Max

  The Pick-Up

  The Shocking Truth

  Bait and Switch

  Rogue Bird

  Chasing Sage

  Irresistible

  The Big Reveal

  The Sleepover

  Hatching Their Plan

  The Gut-Wrenching Truth

  Don’t Shoot!

  Home

  Hello, Detective

  The Interview

  The Competition

  Childhood Secrets

  Unmasked

  The Forensic Sketch

  Epic Fail

  Alexandra’s Suspicions

  The Fire and the Firing

  The Hospital Visit

  Egomaniac

  Never Leave Me

  Ghost Code

  Black Tie Only

  Rejuvenation

  Sophia

  Dream Job

  Truth is Stranger Than Fiction

  Beginnings

  The Gift

  The Mitus Touch

  What’s Next?

  A Note from Stoni

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  The Wilde Touch

  Book Two of The Touch Series

  Stoni Alexander

  SilverStone Publishing

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, brands, media and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Copyright © 2017 by Stoni Alexander

  Edited by Nicole at Proof Before You Publish

  Proofread by Carole at Too Thorough for Words

  Cover by Johnny & Stoni; Photo by iStock

  All rights reserved.

  In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or reproduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above copyright owner of this book.

  Published in the U.S. by SilverStone Publishing, 2017

  ISBN: 978-1-946534-02-6 (Print Paperback); 978-1-946534-03-3 (Kindle eBook)

  To my mother

  Thank you for teaching me to never give up and

  for showing me that laughter really is the best medicine.

  Contents

  1. The Promotion

  2. Incognito

  3. Crockett’s Spy Flies

  4. The Teacher

  5. Stuck with Max

  6. The Pick-Up

  7. The Shocking Truth

  8. Bait and Switch

  9. Rogue Bird

  10. Chasing Sage

  11. Irresistible

  12. The Big Reveal

  13. The Sleepover

  14. Hatching Their Plan

  15. The Gut-Wrenching Truth

  16. Don’t Shoot!

  17. Home

  18. Hello, Detective

  19. The Interview

  20. The Competition

  21. Childhood Secrets

  22. Unmasked

  23. The Forensic Sketch

  24. Epic Fail

  25. Alexandra’s Suspicions

  26. The Fire and the Firing

  27. The Hospital Visit

  28. Egomaniac

  29. Never Leave Me

  30. Ghost Code

  31. Black Tie Only

  32. Rejuvenation

  33. Sophia

  34. Dream Job

  35. Truth is Stranger Than Fiction

  36. Beginnings

  37. The Gift

  The Mitus Touch

  What’s Next?

  A Note from Stoni

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  1

  The Promotion

  Alexandra Reed turned from her stoic guest and stared into the lens of Camera One. “I’m Alexandra Reed. For everyone here at LA After Dark, thank you for joining us.” She smiled. “Good night.”

  She waited until the director yelled, “Cut!” before unclipping the mic from her suit jacket. The high-powered woman seated next to her burst into tears.

  The music exec had just admitted to coercing musicians into signing record deals, threatening managers with blackmail, and accepting several lucrative bribes over the course of three decades.

  Alexandra had come prepared, asked the hard questions, and anticipated pushback from the powerful Hollywood record mogul.

  Instead, she got a full admission of guilt.

  The weekly magazine show was more fluff than substance, so that made the confession even sweeter. Leaning close, she whispered, “You did the right thing.”

  The segment producer whirled onto the set with a box of tissues, plucked two and held them out. Alexandra wanted to laugh at his sympathetic expression —big, melancholy eyes, nurturing smile. Who’s he kidding? This interview would reel in humongous ratings.

  And Alexandra’s reign as Los Angeles’s ratings queen would live on for another week.

  But her heart tightened at the downward spiral this person’s life might take, in part, because she’d done her job.

  “Rick wants to talk with you,” said the producer. “You go ahead. I’ll stay.”

  “I’m here if you want to talk,” Alexandra whispered to the teary-eyed CEO who blotted her mascara-stained cheeks.

  Surprisingly, the businesswoman smiled. “I’ll probably get a book deal. Plus, my golden parachute is worth more than my salary. When does the show air?”

  “Tomorrow night,” Alexandra replied.

  The exec extended her hand. “You’re better than a colonic, Alexandra. Thanks for exorcising my conscience.”

  With a relieved breath and a satisfied smile, Alexandra pumped her hand before heading toward her boss’s office. The tappety-tap of her stilettos on the shiny linoleum went silent when she exited the studio and her feet hit the carpet.

  She knocked on her boss’s open door. Rick Schwartz glanced up, waved her in, and continued bombarding his assistant with a laundry list of to-do items.

  Rick was the best boss Alexandra had ever had. In some ways, he’d been her mentor, too. What he lacked in neatness and organizational skills, he made up tenfold in his keen ability to uncover the perfect story angle. He demanded excellence and integrity. He didn’t believe in excuses and, like Alexandra, he knew that garnering the truth demanded persistence, respect, and a knack for storytelling.

  “Thank you,” Rick said to his assistant before she closed the door behind her.

  “You wanted to see me?” Alexandra asked.

  “Nice job.” Rick’s broad grin made her smile. “You got a full confession.” He gestured to the chair across his desk, filled with scattered news copy, his beat-up computer bag, and two coffee-stained plastic cups.

  Rather than attempting to relocate his things, she leaned against his windowsill.

  He glimpsed his
chair and offered an apology by way of a sheepish smile. “I’ve got news.” During his pregnant pause, her heart kicked up speed. “Congratulations, you got the job.”

  On the inside, Alexandra was jumping up and down like a child who wakes to a foot of snow and no school. “Thank you, Rick.”

  “I recommended you. Brass agreed. A no-brainer. Your contract will get lost in legal long enough for the excitement to wear off.” He glanced at his computer screen. “Oh, wow. It’s almost Thanksgiving. Feels like September. I anticipate you’ll start your new gig late January.”

  For as far back as she could remember, she’d wanted to be an investigative reporter. “My dream job.”

  “For the time being, you’ll continue hosting LA After Dark and anchor the evening news on the weekends.”

  “Whatever you need.” She grinned. “I’m pretty excited.”

  “You deserve this promotion. Take the afternoon off. I insist.”

  Alexandra glanced at the wall clock. “But it’s just after one.”

  “You work harder than anyone I’ve ever met.” Leaning close, he waggled his brows. “Even harder than me, but shh, not a word.” They laughed. “You’re here all weekend anyway. Go play.”

  With a nod and another thank you, she left.

  Since her girlfriends were at work, she’d celebrate alone. After jumping into her BMW, she retracted the rooftop, slipped on her mirrored Prada sunglasses, and rolled out. She cranked up the music of Bishop Briggs’s “River” and the singer’s sultry voice, coupled with the powerful beat, pounded through the speakers.

  Rain had soaked the city all week, but for the moment, the sun smiled down on her. The temperature indicator boasted seventy degrees. After eleven years on the West Coast, she flipped on the heater to take the chill out of her car. I’m a wimp.

  With time on her side, she took the 10 out of LA, then traveled north on Pacific Coast Highway. Over an hour later, she drove into a posh neighborhood and cut her engine in the driveway of her close friend, Montana Spaulding. Though her pal was shooting on location in Argentina, Alexandra was welcome to swing by anytime. With her tattered Mexican blanket in hand, she let the housekeeper know she’d be out back.

  As she rounded the house, she paused to take in Mother Nature’s perfect blend of sand and sea, sky and sun. Sparkling sunshine danced on the ocean as the lapping waves kissed the shoreline. On the horizon, shimmering water glistened like diamonds that merged with an endless stream of vibrant blue sky. This is heaven.

  Before stepping onto the beach, she tugged off her four-inch stilettos. As she made her way toward the water, her toes sank in warm quicksand. This portion of the private Malibu beach was never crowded and on this sunny November afternoon she shared her little patch of heaven with no one.

  She laid out the blanket, sat down, and hugged her knees to her chest. The hypnotic rhythm of the sea quieted her overactive mind. She loved the calming aroma of the salty air and breathed deeply. As she stared at the vastness of the undulating water, the tightness running across her shoulders relaxed while her thoughts drifted like seaweed. Without question, this was her happy place.

  “Congratulations,” she murmured. “You did it.”

  A tiny smile ghosted across her lips. She’d come a long way since her first internship where she’d done everything from running copy to fetching coffee.

  For the past seven years, Alexandra worked between sixty and seventy hours week in and week out. She craved the fast pace and nonstop energy of a newsroom and she thrived on the demanding schedule. The station never slept, which meant Alexandra was never alone. A convenient way to mask her loneliness.

  She envisioned a celebratory dinner overlooking the water. A loving toast with the man she adored. A scrumptious meal. A bottle of champagne. A night of doting kisses and passionate lovemaking. Her vision blurred from the unexpected rush of emotion and she blinked away the familiar face with piercing blue eyes.

  A couple strolled by, hand-in-hand. She envied their soft laughter and intimate whispers. The man slowed, pulled the woman into his arms, and kissed her. Pain jabbed at Alexandra’s heart and she busied herself by fishing her phone from her handbag.

  I don’t have a boyfriend to share my news with, but I do have someone who won’t leave me, unceremoniously dump me, or break my heart. After checking the time—five thirty in DC—she dialed. Her mom would be so proud of her.

  “Kimberly Mitus Real Estate,” answered the receptionist.

  “Hi, Jennifer. It’s Alexandra. Can I speak with my mom, please?”

  The pregnant hesitation sent a shiver through her. “Kimberly has taken…um, uh…a bit of time off.”

  What? Hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Her mother worked more than she did. Pushing past the concern, she asked, “What for?”

  “Best to check with her.”

  The receptionist’s tight tone gave her away. Rather than pressing for information, Alexandra hung up. With shaky fingers, she redialed. Her mom’s cell went straight to voicemail. Her brother, Colton, would know. As she called him, anxiety churned in her gut.

  “Mitus,” Colton answered.

  “Hey, what’s going on with Mom?”

  “I’m in a meeting. I’ll call you later.”

  “Just answer my question, please.”

  “She’s not been feeling well.”

  “Yeah, that much I got from Amy.”

  “I can’t talk now,” he said. “Later.”

  When Colton didn’t call her back that evening, she phoned him the following morning. “Stop avoiding me. What’s happening?”

  “Come home,” he said. “Mom has cancer.”

  2

  Incognito

  Alexandra tucked her mom into bed and kissed her forehead. She’d learned one thing in the last two weeks. Brain cancer sucked.

  Always energetic and elegant, Kimberly Mitus had hit a rough patch. Nothing she can’t overcome. For as long as Alexandra could remember, her mom had been her hero. She’d overcome the horrific loss of a child, the end of a marriage. And she’d beat the cancer ravaging her frail body, too. Alexandra ran a gentle hand through her mom’s thinning, dark hair and kissed her cheek.

  Her mom’s sleepy smile convinced Alexandra of nothing. “I’m going to make a full recovery,” Kimberly Mitus said. “No worrying about me. You should return to California right after Christmas. Your life and your new job are waiting for you.”

  But Alexandra had no intention of leaving. “Have a good sleep. I’ll be here until the night nurse arrives. I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, my sweet girl.” Kimberly’s eyes fluttered closed.

  Since her return to Northern Virginia, Alexandra had learned little about her mother’s condition. Kimberly insisted she’d beat the disease. Her brother, Colton, had been vague. For as long as she could remember, her family had treated her like a child. Even now, their whispers stopped whenever she entered a room. As she tiptoed out of her mom’s bedroom, her head pounded from worry.

  On her way toward the kitchen of her mom’s upscale Old Town condo, she glanced out the living room window. Another overcast, dreary day. Not even the ornamented Christmas tree decked in sparkling white lights could lift her spirits.

  Alexandra needed to keep busy. She yanked open the stainless steel refrigerator door and loaded her arms with food. Twenty minutes later, she started the slow cooker, stuffed to the brim with chicken and vegetables.

  Knock knock.

  After spying the familiar nurse through the peephole, Alexandra opened the front door. “Hi, Tamara.”

  “How’s your mom doing?” asked the petite woman with the Haitian accent.

  “She’s sleeping,” Alexandra replied, closing the door. “Another round of radiation today. And the doctor changed her chemo meds.”

  “I’ll make sure she gets extra fluids when she wakes. Now she needs rest so her body can heal.”

  As Alexandra plodded through rush hour traffic, she hoped her new roommate
would be home. The online roommate finder had paired her with a single woman, also in her late twenties, who had a furnished bedroom to rent and would accept a month-to month lease. She’d wanted to stay with her mom, but Kimberly had insisted she live with people her own age.

  So far, Mandy had made two brief appearances. Alexandra’s move-in day and Mandy’s laundry day. The rest of the time, she stayed at her boyfriend’s, leaving Alexandra alone night after night. So much for hanging out.

  She drove into the older Lyon Park neighborhood in Arlington and street parked in front of her compact, brick-front home. In every direction, lights streamed from neighbors’ windows. Only her house stood dark. Alone again. Feeling bummed, she scooted inside and flipped on lights. As she tossed her coat over the staircase bannister, her phone rang. It was her boss.

  “Hi, Rick.”

  “Hello, hello! Happy holidays, Alexandra! How are you?”

  She winced. Rick forced “happy” whenever he delivered bad news. “I think you’re about to tell me.”

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I have an update.” He paused long enough to worry her. “Because you’re under contract with the station, you’re not an employee per se. The network isn’t under any obligation to grant you family leave, but they did agree to three.”

  “Months?”

  “Weeks.”

  Her heart sank. After Thanksgiving, she’d returned to LA for two weeks to make arrangements to move back east—temporarily. During that time, she’d also requested a three-month leave of absence from the station. Even with her accrued vacation time and the additional three weeks, she’d still have to return mid-January if she wanted to keep her coveted job.