Broken Storm Part One Read Online Free Page A

the scent of alcohol.
    As Keiko held the card, she stared down at the
clean, neat, gold lettering. Her fingers shook, just a little, then she quickly
crammed the card into her purse.
    Why did this kind of thing always happen to her?
Strange things, odd things, embarrassing things.
    Because Jenny and James were chuckling now,
laughing at how weird Chase Harlow had gone around her.
    Great.
    It wasn’t long after that the Keiko excused herself
from the party. Despite the growing wind outside, she walked out onto the street,
not even bothering to huddle into her jacket. She let the gale tug and pull at
her, chasing away whatever embarrassment still lingered hot against her cheeks.

Chapter 5
    T he rain drenched her, trailing down her hair and
dripping down the back of her collar.
    She did not bother huddling against it; let it rain
for all she cared.
    The cool of it took the remaining heat out of her
cheeks.
    Her heels slapping through the puddles, her hands
in her pockets, Keiko walked with her eyes locked on the ground.
    That had been truly embarrassing.
    Again.
    She brought up a hand and wiped the water pooling
along her nose. She let her fingers press over her eyes as she shook her head.
    She was going to walk all the way home, dump her
wet clothes in the shower, and have a bath. A long one. One where she would
stare at the mirror above the sink and confess her sins, inadequacies, and
faults.
    There was a clap of thunder from above, and it
rolled down the street, shaking the glass of the tall buildings around her.
    Keiko didn’t flinch.
    A gust of wind, hard and fast, rushed towards her.
It howled, plastering her skirt against her legs, sending more water dripping
form her hair down her back.
    She didn’t huddle against it.
    Men might frighten her, parties might give her
hives, but the weather could not.
    In a way, she liked it. The rain and wind and lightning.
She felt at home. She could have taken the subway or called a taxi, but walking
through the elements was exactly what she needed.
    Keiko looked up, getting ready to cross the street.
    She saw a low, sleek, silver car turn down the road.
It’s headlights, dipped low, flashed through the puddles, the red blink of its
indicator reflecting off the wet glass of the building beside her.
    She thought nothing of it, until it pulled up just
beside her.
    She walked past.
    The door opened.
    Someone called her name.
    It was lost on the wind.
    At that moment a shot of it raced through the
street. It caught her skirt and hair and whipped them around her like a fan.
Marilyn Munroe eat your heart out, at that moment Keiko felt like she was stuck
in a tornado.
    It passed, and tugging on her skirt, making sure
the wet layers of fabric sat tight against her legs, she went to cross the
street.
    Someone got out of the car.
    ‘Keiko, excuse me,’ they called.
    Though the wind roared again, this time she turned.
    Mr Chase Harlow had just jumped out of his car. He
was leaning on the door, his suit and white shirt now running with water as the
rain drenched down from above. It tracked and dribbled over his cheek bones and
collected along the strong edge of his jaw.
    She stood there, blinking at him.
    He’d said her name, right?
    He motioned her forward with his arm, huddling his
head down as the rain began to pour.
    Keiko didn’t move. In fact, it was not until he
left his car, door open, rain driving in, and rushed up to her that she did
anything.
    ‘Chase Harlow, we met at the party,’ he offered her
his hand.
    Keiko looked at it, lips parting in confusion.
    Could you blame her? She was confused . Gorgeous
billionaires did not usually chase her down in the street to shake her hand.
    ‘Ah,’ she stammered.
    ‘You must be freezing,’ he gestured towards his
car, ‘you need a lift?’
    She didn’t react again.
    Why was Mr Harlow of Harlow Company Holdings even
talking to her?
    He kept on looking at her, obviously expecting some
kind of reply, anything more than Keiko just