Page 1 of Forbidden Touch
Chapter 1
Fiona
Iamabadass. As I repeat the words like a mantra, my restless legs pace through my new office at Lane Entertainment Group. A twinge of anxiety tightens my shoulders. It’s strange being in another family’s corporate building instead of sitting in the comfort of my home office, but my brother, Ethan, convinced me to show face here after I moved out of his mansion.
Happily, my new office is on a different floor from the nightmarish Lane family, so I don’t have to shake my fist at them every day. I run the talent division, responsible for finding venues for music artists. I love my job, but it can be annoyingly stressful at times. Like now.
Between trying to find top-notch talent that won’t break the bank and dealing with prestigious venue management all over Vegas, I’m usually smashed by the end of the day. Now, my assistant, Stephanie, sits in the chair in front of my desk, twisting her mouth to the side.
Tension hardens my stomach. “We have nothing intimate enough for Terro’s comeback tour. Everything around here is too big and corporate. He doesn’t need a stage next to a row of casino slot machines. He’s not that type of artist.”
“Yes, Terro is one of a kind. We can’t shove him into any of the casinos,” Stephanie agrees, holding a pen up to the corner of her petite mouth. With her short blonde hair, she looks like my opposite. But she’s not. We think alike—always on the same page, and that’s why she’s my girl.
She points the pen at me. “I think I have the perfect place. It’s a warehouse in the edgy and artsy part of town.”
My head shakes so fast that I can feel my springy brown curls bouncing against my face. “Oh no. Tell me you’re not serious.”
“I am.”
I massage my temples, trying to dislodge the awful idea. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t care if Jonathan Lane owns every warehouse in town. You willnevercatch me working with him.”
Steph lifts her head a notch higher and licks her lips. “Hmm. That’s funny. You say that, but you’re sitting in the Lane office building, holding a pen that says Lane Entertainment Group.”
She’s my smart-ass assistant, and she knows me a little too well. The Lanes have fought with us since before I was born, and just being around them creeps me out. I fan my face and try to breathe. “Yes, but I’ve never had to actually work with them. I’m not ready for that.”
A sly smile turns the corner of her mouth upwards. “Well, your brother was definitely ready.”
“Yeah, don’t remind me.”
Ethan got involved with one of the Lanes and ended up marrying her. It was the weirdest thing—like he tripped and fell straight into love. But strangely, I actually get along with his wife. “Well, Ava has made one heck of a sister-in-law this far, but I would never do what my brother has done.”
Stephanie leans an elbow on the chair and feigns innocence. “Do what, Fiona?”
My jaw tightens even though I know it’s just casual talk. I crack my neck and answer her. “I would never marry anyone my family told me specifically to stay away from. It’s just asking for trouble.”
My mind reflects on the engagement party Ethan and Ava threw together a couple of months ago. We had all been seated at a long table across from each other. I had the terrible misfortune of sitting across from Jonathan, the CEO of Lane Holdings—the one who basically stole the company from right under us. We didn’t utter a word to one another the whole night. Not even a single hello. Just nothing.
Jonathan stays far away from the entertainment business, owning over 30 warehouses throughout the city. The man is busy doing all his commercial property stuff, and he has no clue how to run an entertainment business, so he stays far away from Lane Entertainment Group.
That’s the way I like it.
My jaw aches, so I stretch it. “Ugggh. I can’t believe we sat down with those people and broke bread. Feels like a betrayal of everything my family stood for.”
Stephanie blinks at me and says nothing.
I repeat myself just to be clear. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter if they own every venue in Vegas. I willneverwork with them. In fact, partnering with the Lanes was the biggest mistake of our lives.”
Jonathan
AsIsitonthe examination table at Desert Mountain Hospital, my pulse hammers through my veins. God, I could have a heart attack right here in the room. That would save the ambulance trip, at least.
My thoughts ping-pong off the clinical room walls, taking me in all directions. Could I have that rare genetic heart condition that my father and uncle had? They both died in their 50s, to the shock of everyone in the family.
But my uncle, Christopher Lane, seemed like he knew something was up because he had scheduled the surgery—unlike my father, who did nothing at all. He dropped dead one day about six years ago, and none of us knew how the hell it happened.
I hate this. Why did I even come here? I feel like I’m opening Pandora’s box by taking the tests.
Finally, Dr. Wilson walks in with a thick folder tapping against her hand. Her icy gray eyes pierce mine. “Mr. Lane, the results are in, and they suggest issues with your heart, but they are rather inconclusive.”