Fade To Black. Amanda Stevens

Jay showed her in a neighborhood newspaper about a bookkeeping position at an antique store not far from her new address. Fate, and perhaps a touch of desperation. She didn’t expect the job to pay much, but she’d been making the rounds at employment agencies for weeks with no luck.

      Pierce Kincaid, the proprietor of The Lost Attic, had taken one look at her frail body, her faded blue dress, her scuffed shoes, and hired her on the spot.

      Pity, she’d accused him later.

      Love at first sight, he’d countered.

      Jessica still remembered the exact moment when she first laid eyes on him. His assistant was about to turn her away when Pierce walked out of his office and changed her life with one heart-stealing smile.

      “I’m Pierce Kincaid,” he said, dismissing the assistant with a curt nod of his head. “Welcome to The Lost Attic. What can I do for you?”

      Jessica’s first thought was that he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. He had longish dark hair that curled at the nape, and dark, penetrating eyes fringed with thick lashes. He was casually dressed in jeans, a white T-shirt and a gray sport coat, and as he leaned against the counter, he gave her another smile, one that managed to look both mysterious and openly inviting.

      “I—I’ve come about the job,” Jessica stammered, her poise completely shattered by his attention.

      “Wonderful. How soon would you be able to start?”

      His enthusiasm caught her off guard. “Now. Immediately.”

      “As in today?”

      “Today? But I—”

      “You said immediately,” he reminded her, a subtle gleam in his eyes. “I’m rarely here, you see, and I need someone I can depend on to handle things while I’m away. My previous bookkeeper up and quit without notice. Financial statements are due, tax payments are late, the bank is screaming about overdrafts, and I’m due in Copenhagen tomorrow morning. Frankly, I’m desperate. So can you start today, Ms….?”

      “Greene. Jessica Greene. And yes I can,” she added quickly, before he could change his mind.

      He grinned. “Great. Let me show you your office then.”

      “But don’t you even want to see my résumé?” She’d worked so hard on it, had even splurged on a rental typewriter.

      He shook his head. “I know a good thing when I see it.”

      Nonplussed, Jessica gazed around the shop, admiring the treasures. “You have a wonderful store,” she murmured.

      “Do you know anything about antiques?”

      “No. But I know a lot about bookkeeping.”

      He smiled, and Jessica felt a tingle all the way to her toes. “That’s fine. I tell you what, Jessica. You teach me enough bookkeeping so that I know my way around a ledger, and I’ll teach you everything I know about antiques. And then some. How does that sound?”

      It sounded wonderful. Too good to be true, in fact. Within days, Jessica had settled into the routine of her new job. When she’d been working for Pierce for three months, true to his word, he began teaching her about antiques.

      “This is a Lowell,” he’d say as he showed her an exquisite glass sculpture. “See the marking on the bottom? Lowells aren’t as famous as Steubens, of course, but the designs are original and highly detailed. Andrew Lowell died so young, there aren’t many of his pieces around and most of the ones that are documented are in private collections. But I found this in a little shop on the outskirts of Paris. The owner didn’t realize what he had.”

      Jessica was like a sponge. She drank in every word Pierce uttered, exclaimed over the beauty of each and every piece he brought back from his treasure hunts. She loved being surrounded by beautiful things with fascinating histories, possibly because her own past was so dismal. She adored having Pierce spend hours talking to her, devoting his time solely to her. She’d never had so much attention before.

      When she’d been working for him for six months, he gave her a raise and added responsibilities. He began leaving her in charge when he went on his regular jaunts overseas. When he returned, he’d tell her intriguing stories about the places he’d been to and the people he’d met as they pored over his findings.

      “Pop quiz today, Jessica. Tell me how we can be certain this is an authentic Allenburg watercolor?” he would ask, a teasing glint in his dark eyes as he and Jessica unwrapped the paintings.

      With a magnifying glass, Jessica would locate the tiny hidden water lily which identified the artist’s work, and Pierce would smile his approval. “Excellent. Perhaps you deserve a reward,” he would say, with that mysterious, sexy smile that always sent her heart racing. And then he’d take her out to lunch at some little out-of-the-way place, which would have both excellent service and scrumptious food. And for the rest of the day, Jessica would feel special and pampered.

      When she’d been with Pierce a year, he began taking her on buying trips with him occasionally. Slowly but surely, under Pierce’s expert tutelage, Jessica began to blossom, to come out of her self-imposed exile. And slowly but surely she was falling madly, passionately, desperately in love with her boss.

      When she’d been with Pierce fifteen months, he asked her to marry him. They were in Paris, and at first Jessica convinced herself that the romantic ambiance of the city of light, the effusive flow of champagne at the Cochon d’or had made Pierce impulsive.

      “If I were impulsive,” he explained, staring at her over the flickering candle on their discreetly located table, “I would have proposed to you the first time I laid eyes on you. Because I knew even then that you and I were meant to be, Jesse. You knew it, too, didn’t you?”

      “Yes,” she whispered. “I knew it.”

      “Then say you’ll marry me,” he demanded, his eyes glowing with triumph.

      “I’ll marry you,” she said, and then he lifted her hand and slipped a beautiful antique diamond and garnet ring onto her finger.

      “You won’t regret it. I’ll make you so happy you’ll forget all about the past.”

      “I already have,” she vowed.

      Weeks later, they were married and settled into their home in a lovely neighborhood only a few miles from the shop. Edgewood, located a few miles from Langley, Virginia, and across the river from Washington, D.C., was home to a lot of government and military employees. Though not as pricey as Georgetown or Alexandria, it still boasted many of the same attractions: tree-shaded sidewalks, cobblestone streets, elegant old Federal and Georgian homes, as well as a close proximity to the nation’s capital.

      Jessica loved her job at the shop, but she gladly gave it up to concentrate on remodeling and redecorating their home. She had no higher aspiration than to be the perfect wife and mother. She loved Pierce dearly, needed him desperately.

      How could she have known back then that the one person she held most dear, loved more than life itself, would eventually leave her just like all the others had?

      Jessica rested her forehead against her knees as she closed her eyes, trying to push away the memories. Why? she asked herself over and over.

      Why had Pierce left her?

      And why had he come back?

      How could he not remember five years of his life? And yet that was exactly what he’d told her. What had been five years of grief and loneliness, struggle and frustration for Jessica had only been a mere thirty minutes in time to him. What could have happened to him?

      He’d been hurt. She could tell that by the scars on his face and arm. It made her shudder to think what he might have gone through. There was only a shadow remaining of the man she’d known, loved, adored. But was that shadow merely a mirage? Was there anything left of the man from her past?

      At that moment,