Page 1 of Tycoon

CHAPTER ONE

Amara

The restaurant’s delicious smells assaulted my nostrils, but I wasn’t hungry. I loved to eat, and nothing usually limited my appetite unless I was sick. But this anger coursing through me had me not appreciating the cozy setting of my favorite restaurant on this Saturday afternoon.

“He’s a fucking bastard!” Stacy spat out her brown eyes narrowed with indignation then she sipped her iced water, her frustration reflecting in my own brown orbs.

“I agree,” I started to say and stopped when the waiter approached our table, interrupting our conversation with a polite smile and a menu held outstretched in his hand. We exchanged perfunctory greetings as we grasped the menus.

“Do you need time to order?”

“No, I know what I would like.” I decided not to allow Darriun to ruin a perfectly good meal with my best friend.

“I do too,” Stacy replied, and we gave the waiter our orders.

“Your orders will be out shortly,” the waiter replied before walking away.

“Darriun is an insensitive jerk, to say the least!” Stacy grunted out, her voice carrying a mixture of disbelief and anger that matches the storm brewing within me.

I traced the rim of my water glass with my finger, the condensation cold against my skin. The invitation sits on the table between us like an uninvited guest, mocking me with its white envelope and delicate script.

“I just can’t wrap my head around it,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder might shatter the slight calm I've managed to maintain.

Stacy reached across the table, her hand finding mine in a gesture to comfort me. “You deserve so much better, Amara. Darriun doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Her words are somewhat encouraging to my wounded pride, but they offer little relief to the ache in my chest. Darriun, my once-devoted boyfriend of three years, now feels like a stranger—an intruder in the pits of my soul.

“I thought I knew him,” I murmured, my gaze drifting to the window where the afternoon sunlight danced across the clear blue sky. “But maybe I never did.”

Stacy squeezed my hand gently, her expression softening with understanding. “Sometimes people change, or maybe we just didn’t see them clearly from the start.”

Her words caused me to pause, maybe she’s right. When Darriun and I first started dating our minds and bodies were in tune with one another. Then as the first year passed, we got into a somewhat boring routine. Maybe we started taking one another for granted. I was busy with work working for Smith & Watson’s Real Estate & Graphic Design Firm. Darriun was an Engineer working for the top corporation in developing new products to enhance technology.

Memories of our early days together flood my mind, reminding me of a time when Darriun and I were inseparable, and the excitement of new love was exhilarating. Those initial months were a whirlwind of passion and fun, each moment leading us to a bonding relationship. The very first time we met flooded my memory as if it was only yesterday.

The steam from my cup of coffee curled into the air like a delicate wisp of smoke, carrying with it the rich aroma of roasted beans and cinnamon. The movie on the television before me had passed in a blur. I nestled deeper into the plush sofa, my fingers tracing the ceramic edge of my cup, as the memories of how I first met Darriun assaulted me.

It was happenstance that I first saw Darriun. He was a striking contrast against the backdrop of the bustling café, his presence commanding and confident. With a stride that matched the confidence in his eyes, he strolled towards me sitting at the table alone.

“Is this seat taken?” Darriun’s voice, smooth as buttery caramel, cut through the murmurs of customers.

I glanced up, meeting a pair of deep-set hazel eyes that seemed to hold flecks of gold in their depths.

“No, it's free,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt. Our fingers brushed as he took the seat opposite me, sending a jolt of electricity through me, as unexpected as it was exhilarating.

“Thanks. This place is packed,” Darriun said, setting down his coffee and flashing a smile that could only be described as disarmingly charming. “I'm Darriun, by the way.”

“Amara.” I returned his smile, finding it impossible not to mirror the ease that seemed to exude from him.

“Amara,” he repeated, rolling my name on his tongue as if savoring the sound of it. “Beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, huh?” I teased, the corners of my mouth twitching upward.

“Only if it's true,” he quipped back, the twinkle in his eye suggesting a playful mischief.

It didn’t take long before we fell into a rhythm of banter as natural as breathing. We volleyed words back and forth, each exchange more animated than the last. It turned out we shared a love for old-school jazz—a genre that often played second fiddle to the modern beats.

“Coltrane or Davis?” I challenged, leaning forward, my elbows resting on the table.

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