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After Shattered

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Yvonne hadn't believed a heart could work after being smashed to pieces. Someone made restoration their mission. Her smile gave him hope. Her heart was the target. Her love was his ultimate prize. Yvonne Baker is a beautiful, up-and-coming business executive. Her engagement falls apart and on the wake of that, her lover dies. His death drives her to the extremes of grief and her family and closest friends don't know what to do to help her recover. She herself doesn't think life after Kendo is possible. Her best friend Michael feels helpless and frustrated, watching her struggle to come back to work and return to her normal self. That frustration grows when he notices someone else, trying to fill the void left by her one true love. He wants his friend back and competing for her time and attention isn't part of the plan. This story is about an alluring woman whose belief in love is compromised and whose heart no longer trusts the future. There is a man in her life who believes that no matter how small the pieces are, a heart that once loved deserves to be restored.

Romance / Drama
Samantha Newburg
4.1 9 reviews
Age Rating:

Chapter One

“We’re goin’ home at five!” Michael hooted with triumph.

The door was pushed open before Mike and Eve could do their customary celebratory high five across the room. Just in time.

An office intern walked in to inform them there was a meeting in the boardroom in a few minutes.

“Who’s attending?” Michael asked with a frown.

“All department executives and top floor,” they were informed, before the young man ducked out of their office space.

Top floor housed all the offices for the senior executives and group directors. Getting called up there was either very good or incredibly bad.

Yvonne stuck out her tongue at the closing door.

Standing up, she rounded her desk and preceded Michael out of their joint office.

“Mm,” Michael muttered. “Love that view, sweets. Really makes my day to see that booty.”

Yvonne laughed at the statement. “You’d think that after seeing it every day for, oh-” she pretended to think “-fifteen years you’d get used to it.”

“Five years,” he correacted.

She stopped before her hand touched the door handle. There was a slight frown of confusion on her pretty face.

Yvonne was sure she still remembered the day they had met.

They were the two new kids in the advanced martial arts class and she had recognised the moment that Michael had made the big mistake of underestimating what the cute little girl could do. It had made her a little angry at first, but then all she was there to do was train- so that was what she did.

After four frustrating rounds of defeat, Michael had finally gotten his head screwed on enough to focus and win a round, but by then practice was over and it was time to go home.

After the lesson, Michael was sitting out front, waiting for his dad to pick him up. A part of him hadn’t gotten over the humiliation of his loss, but for the most part, Michael just couldn’t wait to get home. He was used to being the youngest in the class and not having too many people to talk to after the session was over.

“People always look at me and expect me to be bad at stuff.”

The person had spoken from right next to him.

He had looked up and Yvonne had smiled and said to him that that sort of thing happened all the time, but he didn’t have to hold it against her. She hoped he wouldn’t

Michael had looked at her sullenly as she sat down close to him. Her smile had widened hopefully and his face had gone bright red.

“Great,” he’d muttered miserably. “I just got my butt handed to me by the prettiest girl in the entire academy. Kill me now.”

Yvonne’s jaw had dropped momentarily. Then she’d closed her mouth and looked down at her shoes. “My name’s Yvonne Baker.”


“I’m Michael.”

“Do you,” she had begun hesitantly, “think we could be friends?”

Michael’s face had gone even redder, but there was a slight smile on his face as he had replied.

“Yeah. I think we could.”

That had been fifteen years ago and she said as much in the present.

Michael remembered how they had met long ago, too. With a patient smile, he explained. “I’ve known you for that many years but admit it- if I’d openly appreciated your ass in karate class or at basketball games you’d have kicked mine.”

Yvonne paused for a short moment.

“You have a point.”

“And,” he added, joining her as they finally departed from their office, “there were the cold years of university. You at Harvard Business School, me at SCU. We barely saw each other then. You, traipsing across America with that fool of a man.”

Yvonne laughed out loud.

That is how they entered the boardroom.

Yvonne was laughing and Michael was grinning. A striking pair.

“Glad you two made it,” intoned one of the senior executives. “Always late and last to enter anyhow.”

“Aw, come on!” Michael said good-naturedly, “Seldom are we late.”

“And,” Yvonne smiled, sounding smug, “never are we last.”

Yvonne’s statement was proved accurate as the executive who had held up the meeting the longest rushed in. Beverly Court, the Senior Executive of the Computers Department.

“At ease, my dear soldiers,” smiled the seemingly benevolent chairman of Paxell Holdings.

Richard Paxell was aged fifty-two and the proud founder of a fast growing corporation. It was often said that his innocent face gave him the advantage over his competitors because no one ever saw the man’s killer instinct until it was too late.

“I have called this informal meeting to update you all on some changes that have come upon Paxell.” Pause. “First on this makeshift agenda- and this will be in print on your desks tomorrow morning- is the immediate resignation of our CEO William Porter. It will be devastating to see him go but I have accepted the resignation and he’s already gone.”

A hushed whisper travelled through the room. Yvonne and Michael just exchanged glances. When silence fell once more, Paxell continued.

“Now, I have come to announce the following shifts in power. The incoming CEO, effective next Monday, is Karen Benedict. Beverly Court will take her position as Administrative Executive and the SECD will be introduced on Monday.” When the applause for the two promoted members of staff died down, he asked, “Any questions?”

A tradition at Paxell was that a newcomer’s profile would be summarized to minimize the unfamiliarity. What got left out was a name and the most recent place of employment.

Just as Yvonne was wondering about it, a hand went up: an executive from the Finance Department. “Profile?”

Richard Paxell consulted his notes. “Aged thirty-one, has several certificates and degrees in economics and technology development-” that caused a few wary expressions “-active member of the social community. Drives a…” he glanced at the paper and stated in a surprised tone, “A 2010 Peugeot!”

That couldn’t be right. A few of the men laughed.

Paxell continued with the good-natured in absentia break-in routine. “He’s single.” He wiggled his brows at Yvonne, who was the youngest single lady.

Michael almost choked on his water and coughed loudly.

Completely ignoring the attempt at indignant protest, Paxell finished with a flourish, “He comes from Massachusetts and went to school down in South Carolina.”

Over drinks that evening, Yvonne and Michael joked with a few of the other young executives about their new immediate superior.

“He’ll be a youthful ecos-tech geek,” whined thirty year old Jean-Luc, “and competition for your fair heart.” He spoke to Yvonne who only rolled her eyes.

She said speculatively, “Mike, maybe you know him. What if he was at SCU?”

“Then he’s probably very butch, all sporty and either Old New England type or big plantation rich. Or he’s-”

“Never mind,” Yvonne laughed. “Whatever this guy has in store I just hope he’s okay to work with. I’m going to miss Bustle and Chaos,” she continued wistfully, referring to Beverly Court.

“Yeah, whoever Ecos-Geek is,” Michael concurred, “he better be nice to the Two,” referring to himself and Yvonne.

She grinned and raised a glass to that. “To the Terrible Two.”

Mike went on, “If you think you’re a bad ass…”

“Let’s see if you can take on two,” one of their companions finished.

This was at the same time another said, “You’ll see the damage two can do.”

Their joint nickname always incited a lot of banter and for some reason it always seemed to rhyme. Both of them loved it, though. It told a story about their reputation as professionals.

Back when the two of them had joined Paxell Holdings, their boss had given them a chance to handle a very important client. The job had been done well and the client had been so pleased that he’d called Richard Paxell on the phone.

The client had said they were ‘terribly good’ and Paxell had wryly responded, “Well, I’ll agree with the terrible bit.”

After the call was over, he’d turned to his PA and said, “Go and call in the Terrible Two.” The name had stuck.

No one could deny that Yvonne and Michael were a great team. Yvonne’s areas of expertise were money and international corporate law. Mike did all the programming, designing to a client’s specifications. As young as they were, the Computer Department never had a reason to complain or doubt their efficacy.

Friday came and the Two promptly forgot about the pending shift in their department’s balance of power. Yvonne’s boyfriend, an accountant for a prominent law firm, was out of town and so the city of Detroit was subject to the blaze of the Two.

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