Page 3 of Melting the Ice Queen

I wake up my computer and check my emails, smiling when I see one from Nadine, my best friend —well, more like myonlyfriend, actually.

“Anything else?” I ask, looking back at my assistant.

Alexandra raises her arm, holding her tablet to bring it closer to her face, and slides her finger over its screen, tapping a couple of times. "Not until four p.m. when you have the meeting with the VP of the New-Project Division, Carina."

I nod, squaring my shoulders. “Alright, thanks, Alex. Tell my father I will be joining him presently.”

As soon as I'm alone, I scan Nadine's email and feel a slight smile tug at my lips when I read her words. As usual, my friend wants to know ifI'm getting myself out thereand begs me tostep away from the desk a little.

As I always do, I write her that I don't have the time —nor frankly the will— to be social, and I tease her a bit about having a one-track mind worse than my mother's when it comes to getting me to date andlive a little.

I sigh when I see she is mentioning my so-called friends again; I can tell from how the tone of her message went from playful to serious that she is really concerned, but there’s not much I can offer to make her worry less.

The situation is what it is, and I've learned to accept it. Things have changed, and the gap between me and those who I once called friends has gotten bigger and bigger in the last few years, we hardly have anything in common anymore. Plus, even if I've strived to put everything behind me and I try to be at least civil with them when we do meet, sometimes it's difficult to forget that these women that were supposed to be my best friends are the same ones who were all jumping down my throat when I broke things off with Jonathan nine years ago. They should have been there for me, they should have helped and understood — fuck, listen at least— but they never did, and worst of all, they never let me forget what they thought of my decision.

I shake my head, trying to compose an email that will sound more cheerful and upbeat than I’m feeling right now. I don’t want to worry Nadine even more.

I ask her what’s new with her life —we haven’t seen each other in almost a year— and tell her she should come stateside as soon as possible.

Once I'm done replying to her email, I start rapidly reading through the most recent financial reports I will need to discuss with our shareholders in a bit.

My father is still in charge of things, he maintains his role as President of Preston International and sits on the board, but since he had his triple bypass surgery four years ago, I stepped in as Chief Executive Officer and I have been taking on more and more responsibilities for the company and for the rest of both sides of the family’s holdings and interests with each passing year. After all, with my late paternal uncle being childless and my mother being an only child, there's just me left in this generation to oversee these things, both for the Prestonsandthe Bunters.

Still, no matter how many times I prove myself and how much my father and the more loyal directors on the board trust me, many amongst them look down their noses at my young age and are quite frankly very discomposed by my being a woman. Every time I get into the boardroom, it's a bit of a battle, especially with the older members that secretly think I should stay at home, be a nice Stepford Wife to some pompous idiot, and let the men take care of the business.

I have to be strong, cool, and collected. I can't let them undermine me in front of others, I can't let them get away with treating me with nothing less than perfect respect, and I can't have my father be the one to ensure they do respect me. I have to keep on pushing, make it on my own.

So, again. Focus, utter calmness, control.

Most of the time, all eyes are on me, so I have to be the picture of decorum and professionalism, and I can't show any weaknesses in the business arena.

I know my mother and Nadine are right. Idolive a very detached, maybe even unemotional, life, but I don’t have much choice.

Even if I wasn't under such scrutiny day in and day out, I don't think I could live my life in a different way, especially when it comes to dating.

I could never trust another guy, no matter how nice, not after what happened nine years ago.

My mind goes back to those days, and I shudder slightly, feeling the familiar and loathed sense of cold slip over me.

I know it could have happened to anyone. I know I was deceived, and I know that I could not have prevented it, and I got out as soon as I knew the truth, and that's all that matters, but still, I can't help but wish things had been different.

Back then I wasn't thinking lucidly. I was persuaded I was in love with Jonathan, and everybody liked him and approved of him.

To be honest, my father wasn't too happy about the ten years age difference between us, but everybody thought he was an upstanding man and believed our relationship was the perfect match.

He was polite, handsome, educated, and a keen businessman —or so we believed then. We had no idea that his company, Withmore Investments, was failing and in desperate need of a money injection— and he professed to love me so dearly and was so believable during the course of our relationship.

One year we were together, and I was blind to everything he was, or maybe he was just that good a liar. I still can't be sure which.

I should have known something was wrong.

I mean, in this day and age, what man not beholden to any religious belief in particular would want to wait after marriage to have sex, right?

Back then, I thought he was romantic. Now I just think he had a crazy obsession with my virginity and also that maybe deep down inside, he knew that if we were to get too close, then I would see behind his mask. After all, that's exactly what happened.

Everything was fine, more than fine, even. It was a freaking fairy tale, in fact, until it all fell apart, that is.

Jonathan was a very controlling man and liked things a certain way, but he was always so very sweet and caring with me and seemed to love me, cherish me, and value my intelligence so much that I never really minded his ways. He proposed after six months and insisted on a very public engagement.

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