ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE) (30 page)

The moment I’d been dreading finally arrived. My shoulders
touched the hard wood of the door behind me, and I cringed, holding onto my
clutch tightly as the woman stopped and looked me up and down. She made a face
of utter disgust, as if she couldn’t bear the sight of what she saw.

“What’s
wrong
with
you?” she asked. “Why aren’t you leaving? Do you want to get hurt—is that it?”
She brought her face inches from mine. “Because if that’s what you want, I’m
happy to oblige…”

“
Jane!
” Preston
bellowed so loud that for a moment, I wasn’t sure what he’d said had been a
word at all. It sounded more like a clap of thunder shaking the walls,
threatening to knock down every picture and piece of décor surrounding me. “Get
away from her. Now!”

The woman—Jane, I presumed—didn’t look like she was going to
follow the order. But then she finally did take a step back and I let out a
breath, my whole body trembling in the face of her cold rage.

Preston strode toward us. He was coming so fast and so hard
that for a second I thought he was going to plow straight into Jane and knock
her off her crystal-embellished Louboutins. But she stood her ground even as he
threw open the door behind her, putting himself between the two of us and
allowing me to scamper behind his back.

“Get out,” he snarled with such ferocity it sent chills down
my spine. “Do not
ever
come back, and
do not
ever
think that you can speak
to my sister like that.”

Jane snorted. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she
said, but Preston didn’t entertain it. He took her by the arm, firmly but not
roughly, and dragged her outside over the threshold, leaving her on the stoop.

“The next time you show up here, or anywhere else that
belongs to me, I’m calling security,” he said. “You’re fucking crazy, Jane.
That’s what got you fired, not
her.
”

“Fine,” she sneered. “That’s just great, Preston. Because you
know what? I’m calling the cops!” She rubbed her arm where he’d touched her,
wincing like he’d pulled it out of place, though it was clear he hadn’t. “This
is assault!”

“Leave,” he said before slamming the door right in her face
and locking it from the inside. I heard her pound on it a few times before she
finally gave up, letting out one last scream as the staccato beat of her heels
descended the steps toward Mr. Fletcher’s car.

I looked up at Preston as he turned. The veins in his neck
were bulging, as were his muscles. I could see the immense bulge of his biceps,
especially under the short sleeves of the t-shirt he was wearing. It draped
nicely around his waist, but even so, with his heavy breathing a teasing
glimpse of his abs were visible. He was the picture of raw power, and I
couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

Slowly, his gaze shifted to meet mine. He asked, “Are you all
right?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.” I looked toward the doors again.
“I just feel bad for Mr. Fletcher…”

Preston laughed softly. It wasn’t a happy sound, but he did
seem at least darkly amused. “Yeah. Me too.”

I watched as he left the front door, making his way toward
one of the rooms I hadn’t explored yet. I followed him, watching as he sat down
on a very expensive-looking sofa and put his face in his hands, snarling into
them. It was a deep, primal sound.

“I take it you wanted me to get breakfast because of that,” I
said softly, standing awkwardly in the archway. He nodded without looking up at
me. “Was that the woman you were talking about in the car—the one who doesn’t
respect your boundaries?”

“Or yours, apparently,” he muttered, running both hands
through his hair as he leaned back against the cushions with a sigh. He shook
his head. “I’m just glad it’s over, but it’s eight-fifteen and I already need a
drink.”

I smiled uneasily. “Do you have a bar? I make a mean Bloody
Mary.”

“Not here,” he told me. “This is a place of business, after
all. It’s not like in the Sixties, when we did that kind of thing…” Preston
hadn’t been alive in the Sixties, and yet he somehow seemed wistful. He waved
his hand after a moment. “Coffee would do, if you wouldn’t mind.”

I set my clutch down on one of the armchairs near him.
“Where’s the kitchen?” I asked.

“Just through here,” he answered, pointing at a door at the far
side of the room. He relaxed while I went through it and entered one of the
most glorious kitchens I’d ever seen.

Though it was keeping in style with the Italian countryside
theme Preston had going on, it was a gourmet ensemble if I’d ever seen one. The
stove looked state-of-the-art and the cabinets, though made of dark wood, all
had transparent doors that let one see their contents without having to open
them first. The fridge was massive, a French door model with a separate,
pull-out freezer down below. Everything was gleaming steel against wood, except
for the copper pot rack hanging above a kitchen island with a marble
countertop.

I found the coffee machine easily enough. As expected,
Preston had an expensive brew tucked away near the filters. The smell alone did
more to wake me up than my own cup back at my apartment had, and I brewed
enough for two before returning to the sitting room and offering a mug to my
stepbrother.

“Look, Maddy, I know this probably looks bad,” he started,
clearly still caught up on my arrival. “You weren’t supposed to see any of
that. She wasn’t even supposed to be here.”

“Relax. It’s none of my business, and I’m not one to judge,”
I replied, thinking back to a little short term office fling I’d had with one
of the mail runners in my earlier days at ExecuSpace. “I’m just glad to have
this opportunity…”

He smiled. “Well, it looks like your first official duty as
my new personal assistant was to get me post-breakup coffee. How’s it feel?”

I laughed. “Patronizing,” I said, sitting down on the same
armchair I’d set my clutch onto. Its deep, cocoa-colored leather upholstery was
firm, yet soft enough to be comfortable, and the tufted back gave me more
support than I’d thought it would. “Still, it’s good to have a job. I do have a
question, though.”

Preston took a sip of his coffee. He winced, as if he’d never
learned not to let a hot beverage cool. “What’s that?”

I blew on the surface of my own mug, my lips moving before
the wiser half of my brain could stop me.

“Do you fuck all of your secretaries?”

Preston stared at me with an almost shocked look on his face,
choking on his drink.

I felt my face flush and my stomach plummet, then fill with
the wingbeats of a thousand butterflies as Preston laughed nervously and turned
away.

Why the hell did I say that?

Maddy’s
first day as my new assistant became
a lot more boring after Jane had finally stopped storming around the front
lawn. Most of it was spent having her fill out all the appropriate paperwork
and letting her look over Jane’s notes, most of which I’d managed to salvage
after she’d torn through her desk like a demon in an effort to destroy as much
company property as she could. Though I’d been dreading that moment for months,
now that it had passed, I felt relieved. Maddy had been right. It was good to
let go, especially before Jane was in a position to do anything worse.

“Are you concerned about what she said?” she asked me at
lunch. I’d taken her to a bistro on the lake behind my property. “About the
‘assault,’ I mean?”

I shrugged. “Not really. Jane has anger issues, that’s true,
but I doubt she’d go so far as to actually file a police report against me. And
even if she did, she’s got no proof. I didn’t grab her that hard. And besides,”
I added with a grin, “I have witnesses.”

“
A
witness,
anyway,” Maddy said. “But that’s probably good enough.”

Although I put on an appearance of confidence, I certainly
hoped we were right, the last thing I needed was that kind of publicity…
Regardless of what was going to happen with Jane, by the end of the first day
Maddy was already pretty comfortably settled in. Things almost felt… Normal.

Except that I couldn’t get Maddy’s words out of my head…

Do you fuck all of your secretaries?

Sure, it had been a joke. All in good fun… But it had my
wheels moving in ways they shouldn’t have been moving.

I did my best to ignore it.

When weeks went by without hearing anything from Jane, both
of us breathed a collective sigh of relief. I immediately forbade any more talk
of her, fearful that invoking her name might make the demon return. I’d have to
write up a rule somewhere that disallowed anyone from going into a bathroom
with the lights off and saying “Jane Turner” three times in front of a mirror,
but as it so happened, my attention was far more focused on Maddy.

I’d had every confidence in her that she’d turn out to be the
perfect new personal assistant, and I’d been right. I’d just had no idea how
right I would be. She was amazingly good at her job, meticulous and
detail-oriented, always taking the initiative to organize and get things done.
She’d memorized my particular way of doing things in practically no time at
all, and by the end of our first month together, I couldn’t believe the stark
contrast between her and Jane.

“I think I’m ready to pronounce you a permanent hire,” I
teased her one day as she made me coffee. She’d finally figured out the French
press, which was far more preferable than the automatic swill I got out of the
machine.

She had smiled and looked at me through her lashes in that
smug, know-it-all way I’d come to love. “Oh, please. I’ve been permanent since
day one. At this stage, I don’t think you could live without me.”

“Too true,” I’d told her. But neither of us realized how much
I’d meant it until a week later when she overheard me on the phone. At the
time, I had no idea how that seemingly innocuous moment would change everything
between us forever.

****

“Yes, I realize that’s prime real estate. Yes, I know what’s
there now, and I’m sure it can be done. I know my father wants this to go
forward, but I’m just asking you, man to man… Do you
really
want to do this? What your asking crosses an ethical line.
It may be, in fact, a bit… Extrajudicial.”

I stood on my bedroom balcony overlooking the distant lake. I
could see the water gently rippling as a lazy breeze swept over it, just barely
disturbing the otherwise placid surface. It was late and the sun was setting,
but Mr. Verger wasn’t letting me off the phone without a fight. I watched the
sky turn from orange to red, then a hazy purple as my high-strung client
stammered on the other end of the line.

I sighed, hoping my Bluetooth earpiece didn’t pick it up. I
had explained this at least a dozen times, but Harold wasn’t getting it. I
understood why he’d gotten my father involved in this, I just didn’t want to be
part of it. With the company in my hands during the windup to my father’s
wedding, he’d dropped this entire sordid affair on my lap.

On the surface, it was simple. Harvey Enterprises has
connections, able to bend the will of state and federal agencies that look into
things like code violations. They condemn buildings all the time. In fact,
nothing makes them happier than to slap a big yellow notice on a door that says
‘CONDEMNED’ on it. It’s like getting their dick sucked for them. They’d be more
than happy to shut down the homeless shelter if the company threw money their
way, and that’s exactly what Mr. Verger wanted me to do.

Mr. Verger had big plans for that space. He’d quietly bought
up buildings on either side of the shelter, and once he owned the final piece
of the puzzle, there’d be nothing stopping him from razing the entire block and
putting up some gaudy condo tower in its place. Gentrification at work.

Sure, we would lose a rec center and the only homeless
shelter within a twenty mile radius in the process, but Harold Verger had deep
pockets—the kind that could not only pay off the code enforcement officials,
but could go a long way in supporting Harvey Enterprises in all manner of
future endeavors.

That was the rub. From what my father had told me, Mr. Verger
had a very good shot at becoming a US Senator very soon. Money could buy you
many things, but if you wanted real influence, you needed to know the right
people. My father would very much like to know a senator. He’d very much like
to have done favors for one, so that that senator might be amenable to
returning those favors in his more prestigious future. And what my father
wanted, my father got, even if that meant tearing down a perfectly good
building to get it.

Only he wasn’t going to do it. He was going to make me do it.
I wasn’t completely heartless, though. I’d first seen the job as a moral
quandary. Homeless people already had it rough. Why make it rougher by
eliminating one of the few safe spaces that they had?

I kept telling myself there were always more safe spaces, and
there was plenty of land in the city. The non-profit organization keeping both
the rec center and the shelter open could always open some new ones. It might
take a year or two, but it would get done.

“Young man, I was a lawyer for twenty six years. Don’t
lecture me on the law. I was under the impression you would take care of this
without any questions being asked,” Mr. Verger said. “Your father made certain
assurances.”

I could feel my temples throbbing. Though I hadn’t thought
about her in weeks, I would almost have preferred a conversation with Jane to
one with this guy.

“All right, Mr. Verger. I’ll get the ball rolling on Monday.
We’ll have that homeless shelter knocked flat in three weeks or less. The
recreation center might take a bit longer, but I’ll personally expedite the
process. You have a nice weekend, all right?”

“You too, Mr. Harvey. Oh, and tell your father I say hello,
will you? I’ve got a hankering to play some golf next week. Let him know I said
so.”

I forced a smile into my tone. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

I could barely contain my excitement when Mr. Verger finally
hung up. I couldn’t imagine that man as a senator, with the kind of power to
make decisions that could affect all of America. He was incompetent, fidgety,
uncertain, and a complete worry-wart. Then again, I couldn’t think of a senator
who wasn’t completely ill-suited for the job in one way or another. I guessed
there was always room for one more.

I turned around, taking my Bluetooth earpiece out and nearly
running straight into Maddy. It wouldn’t have been the first time we collided,
and I grinned at her as I shook my head.

“Maddy, we’ve got to stop meeting like this…”

“How could you?” she asked me, her voice barely above a
whisper. She looked utterly horrified, and it took me a few seconds to realize
she’d overheard the conversation I’d been having on the phone.

“Oh. You mean the shelter?”

She stared at me. “Of course I mean the shelter. And the
recreation center! And oh God, what else is there?” Then she waved her hand and
shut her eyes. “No. Don’t tell me.
Really.
If there’s more, I don’t want to know…”

“Oh, come on,” I said, moving past her and into my bedroom.
“It’s urban renewal, nothing more. The condo development is going to bring in a
lot more money for the city than a homeless shelter ever did, and it will reduce
crime and vagrancy. Ten years from now, you won’t even recognize the city
center. This is a win, Maddy. We should celebrate.”

I turned back to see if she was coming, but she hadn’t moved.
I sighed, leaning against the wall. “Come on. I’ll take you anywhere you’d
like. Do you like seafood? There’s this place over by the marina. It’s a bit of
a drive, but the lobster is worth it.”

“I can’t even comprehend this right now,” she said, taking a
seat on the edge of my bed. She shook her head at me, eyes pinched. “Urban
renewal? Extrajudicial? You’re talking about a criminal conspiracy. Are you
fucking serious right now? I know that part of the city. You’re going to help
someone build a fancy pants condo development and knock down a
homeless shelter
and a rec center
for disadvantaged kids?!
Have you lost
your mind, Preston? Never mind that—have you lost your
soul?
”

I watched the red-orange hues of the dying sun light up her
face. They complemented her anger perfectly. She looked like a painting, the
portrait of a woman on the edge of rage. It was stunning.

“Look,” I told her, “this is business. Mr. Verger has
connections and my father still has the final say. You know how it is. It’s
still about getting the biggest piece of the pie, no matter what you have to do.
I don’t like it, but I’m not running the show here. Not yet. I have to do what
I’m told just like everyone else. I mean, come on, Maddy. You should know this
better than anyone. If I don’t do this, my father will.”

“Yeah,” she said. Her face had tightened. Anger had turned to
disappointment. “I just didn’t think you would do something like this. You
seemed different. You told me you were going to save the world…”

I shook my head. “I’m not a saint, Maddy.”

She shook hers too. “No, I know that. But this is something I
would have expected from your father. Not from you.”

Now
that
struck a
chord. I could feel the snarl in my voice before I’d even answered. “I’m
nothing like my father. You know that.”

“Do I?” she asked me, looking up at me again. Her green eyes
searched mine the same way they had back at the restaurant the day she’d lost
her job. She was looking for an answer, but this time, she’d already asked the
question. “Do I have any idea who you are at all?”

“Of course you do.” I sighed. “Look, Maddy, you’re blowing
this way out of proportion. Non-profit groups get funding all the time.
Charitable donations are tax-deductible, for fuck’s sakes. Sure, we’re going to
shut the shelter and the rec center down, but once it’s gone they can build on some
other parcel, maybe something with a view out past the suburbs.”

“You actually think the homeless give two shits about a
view?” she snorted. “You can’t just shove them out of the city and forget about
them. You sound like a true one-percenter.”

“One percent? You’re the one who cried for help. I didn’t
hear you complaining when I wrote you that ten thousand dollar check,” I
argued. “Or when I hired you. Or when I paid you, for that matter.”

“Don’t you
dare
throw that money in my face,” she hissed, launching up from the bed. “You gave
me that money to help me out when I was nearly destitute. And the rest you paid
me for good, honest work. I haven’t been your kept woman, Preston. I earned
that money working for you!”

“Which is why you should do what I tell you now and get in
the goddamn car!” I was seething. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like the way she
was challenging me, like suddenly she knew more about business than I did, like
she had any idea what it was like to be me, Preston Harvey, the son of a billionaire
whose first and only love had ever been cold, hard cash.

And yet I did like it. In fact, I loved it. Maddy never
looked more beautiful than when she was standing up for herself. She had a
backbone stronger than most men I’d known in my lifetime, and when she had a
mind to, she put up one hell of a fight.

But I couldn’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth
now. There was too much momentum, too much frustration welling up inside me,
rattling my bones. “You work for me, which means my decisions are your
decisions. If I say ‘jump,’ you say, ‘how high?’ If I tell you that what I’m
doing is the right goddamn thing for my company, then you shut up and accept
that maybe the guy with the Harvard business degree knows what the fuck he’s
talking about. If those are things that you can’t handle that, then…”

“Then what, Preston?” she asked me. Jane had always had a
heat in her, a passion, and a deep, ugly anger too, but Maddy was different.
Her flame was brighter, stronger than any I’d ever seen before. It danced
higher, more beautifully than Jane’s ever had, and I was drawn to it like an
unlucky moth gazing upon its flickering shape, mesmerized by how wild and
effulgent she was. “Then you’ll fire me? You’ll send me back to my shitty
apartment with some savings and hope I land on my feet? Maybe if I’m lucky,
you’ll throw in an excellent job reference too, as long as I don’t make a scene
like Jane did when I storm out.” Her lip curled in a defiant sneer. “Is that
what you do to everyone who dares to tell you like it is, or just the women?”

I hated hearing that woman’s name leave her lips. It poisoned
everything it touched, and the last thing I wanted to imagine was anything
tarnishing Maddy’s sweet, soft, supple lips.

I stared at them, unable to look away. They were set into a
firm line, one that meant she wasn’t going to back down. But I needed her to. I
needed her to stop, because with every word she spoke, something hungry stirred
inside of me.

“You love to flirt with poverty, don’t you?” I shot back, my
muscles tense and vibrating beneath my skin. She was like a live wire sending
currents through every part of my body, but I didn’t know of what. Was it
anger? Disdain? Or was it something I couldn’t quite explain, something that
seemed closer to lust than to fury?

“You had your own apartment, Maddy. Maybe you had to take a
bus to work, but you had a job and a roof over your head. You act like your
struggle makes you better than people like me, but you haven’t had to deal with
half the shit that
really
poor people
do. You get the self-righteousness with none of the suffering, and that gets
you off, make you feel special so you can look down on an entire class of
people. Grow up.”

She pursed her lips, and her eyes flared. “Is that what
happened to you, Preston? You grew up to become your father—a man who would
rather stuff more money in his pockets than think twice about the rest of the
world trying to just get by out there? You are literally talking about
destroying the only place the homeless in this city have to go! It’s
evil,
and if you don’t see it, then
maybe you should ask yourself how long you’ve been staring into the abyss of
wealth and business and politics, and whether or not it’s begun staring back
into you.”

I closed the distance between us. “Maddy, if you don’t stop…”
I lost the will to finish that sentence. I didn’t know what to say. I just kept
staring at the woman who would become my sister and thinking how goddamn beautiful
she was.