Bait: Alpha Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (11 page)

Chapter Three

“I hope you don’t mind, dear. I’ve already ordered for us.” My mother’s icy tone cut through the silence that had ensued since Charlie and I arrived. She looked Charlie up and down. “I don’t care for tardiness, Charlene.”

Not only was Charlie mad at me for being late picking her up, but my mother was infuriated as well, spraying her special brand of venom in the wrong direction. Charlie’s lush mouth formed a perfect circle. Too bad I didn’t have the time to stop and really admire it.

“It’s my fault we’re late, Mother,” I said as I held the chair out for Charlie to slide into. “I overslept.”

The sight of the ten-thousand-dollar bottle of Armand de Brignac Brut Rose Champagne that she ordered made my stomach turn. The hangover was reduced to a five by the Bloody Mary and second helping of Goody’s powder my driver gave me. But the thought of ever drinking another glass of champagne made me want to hurl.

The only thing that made my headache somewhat better was the sight of Charlie. She had brought her ‘A’ game this morning. She was wearing a beautiful dark navy linen pantsuit with a crème lacy top underneath. Her hair was styled simply, pulled back in a sleek ponytail. And she didn’t look like a hangover hot mess like I did.

Brunch on the Upper East Side was a much different ballgame than anywhere else in the city. Here, people dressed to the nines, leisurely drank champagne, and ate grilled lobster with their eggs Benedict. I should’ve known better and worn a suit instead of the dark pressed jeans and the pale yellow button down.

My mother had the whole evil stepmother look down with her hair pulled into a tight bun, a glimmering ivory cape over her tight wool grey dress. Her makeup was expertly done; her thin lips lined with her trademark red lipstick. The rich smell of Chanel No. 5 wafted through the air. I tried to remember not to breathe through my nose, lest I upchuck on her iced tea.

My mother pursed her lips and glared. “Try to be on time for once, Nolan.”

I glanced around the Carlyle Hotel, where the food was r
efined French-inspired fare displayed in an upscale, white-tablecloth dining room that drew a well-dressed and prominent crowd.
The restaurant was decorated with shiny mirrored alcoves, dramatic six foot tall floral arrangements that topped most of the tables, and wall art with English hunting scenes, as well as engravings by Redouté, which completed the intimate country house ambience. Most of the patrons were dripped in diamonds and shiny gold watches that matched the décor of the Carlyle. All this shininess was making my hangover debut an encore performance. I wished I could slip on some Ray-Bans, but that would further piss off my surly mother.

My mother surveyed me over her glass of champagne, before turning her perfectly rhinoplastied nose in the air and gesturing to the waiter.

“The steak and lobster for my son, Manuel. I’ll have the Foie Gras Terrine with a baby wedge, no dressing. The girl will have the Chicken Cobb Salad with dressing on the side.” My mother lowered her tone as if she and the college student were in a warped conspiracy. As if I couldn’t hear her. As if Charlie couldn’t hear her. Bitch. “I don’t think she can afford the calories.”

Charlie surprised both of us by interrupting my mother. “Actually, Manuel, I don’t care for Chicken Cobb Salad. I’ll have the Challah French Toast with
extra
golden syrup and orange marmalade on the side.”

Poor Manuel looked like a deer in the headlights on I94 in Wisconsin. His concerned gaze darted between my mother and my fiancée. Charlie pasted a bright smile on her face and didn’t budge when my mother stared her down. This brunch was getting more interesting by the minute. I was glad I showed up. Too bad I’d told Chase to stay behind because he was great at adding kindling to a blaze. And my mother hated him.

After a long, excruciating silence, my mother nodded at Manuel. “Very well. Move along, Manuel.”

Charlie’s shoulders sagged from the battle of wills, then she turned her attention to me. I could almost read her mind:

What the fuck did you get me into, Nolan Banks? This is going to cost you. A whole lot of money. And possibly a raise. And a promotion.

Okay, Charlie. You’re worth every penny. But how about I pay you in foot massages. And fucking. And pussy eating. A plethora of firework inducing orgasms in repayment for your class and sass until…

Until the end of time.

“So, the Gala was a huge success last night,” I said, trying to play the mediator between Charlie and my mother. “We raised–”

“Charlene, we will have the engagement party next weekend.” Mother effectively cut me off. She had no interest in me being here. She wanted Charlie to wiggle and squirm.

I decided to shut up and see where this went. Charlie had already proven she could handle herself with my mother. No other woman I’d ever dated had gone more than one round with the Ice Queen. And then–

Knock out.

“It’s Charlie,” Charlie said. “And no, next weekend is not good. We already have plans to go out of town.” She looked at me for confirmation.

My mother ignored that look and whipped out her day planner before I could say anything. “You’ll have to cancel your plans. That is the only Saturday I can do it.”

“Will that give you enough time to invite everyone?” I reminded my mother.

She shot a look that could kill from forty paces. Except she’d forgotten one thing in this gun slinging duel – she’d brought a knife to a gun fight. “Let me worry about the invites.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t cancel my plans,” Charlie said, truly concerned as she worried her lip with her teeth. “I promised my dad that I would come home that weekend. I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

Oh, no. Big mistake, Charlie. You should’ve never said that. I knew my mother. My fiancée had just given her a pocketful of ammunition. Or maybe it was a Japanese Shuriken.

“He can come here,” Mother said as she clapped her hands together in delight. My mother had Charlie in the half-nelson and was about to go in for the takedown. “I’ll pay for his plane ticket. Your father should be at your engagement party anyway.”

Charlie tried to object, but my mother waved her off. She started writing in her planner. “Next Saturday it is. Seven o’clock sharp at my apartment.” Mother shot another bullet at me. “Don’t be late, Nolan.”

I snuck a glance at Charlie who looked like she’d been hit by a train.

“Of course, I’ll plan everything. You don’t need to worry about a thing,” Mother went on, flipping through the planner and making meticulous notes on the thin pages. “Flowers will have to be ordered. Catering. Oh, I know the most divine caterer. They are new to the city, but they catered Mary Alice’s grandson’s Communion, and it was wonderful.” Her babbling continued for at least five minutes and she barely stopped to draw breath. Charlie’s face kept getting paler. “I’ll get the invites to the printer first thing Monday morning.” She turned her attention to me. “I’ll have a messenger send a few of the invites to your office. You’ll be inviting some important clients?”

I nodded. Whatever she wanted. I learned early on in life it was best to let my mother do as she wished. She was going to anyway. No need to fight it.

“Actually, I–” Charlie started.

My mother ignored her and continued, “We’ll get an appointment with my personal shopper to arrange fittings for your dress. You’ll need to wear something….” my mother paused and looked over Charlie’s current outfit, “a little more elegant and refined for my party.”

“You mean
our
engagement party?” Charlie corrected. Her face was now devoid of color. “I don’t want you to have to go to all this trouble. We don’t even know if – if this -”

I shot Charlie a warning glance.

“Spit it out, Charlene.” My mother glanced up over her gold-framed reading glasses. “What are you trying to say?”

“I don’t even know if this wedding is going to happen!” She took a big gulp of her champagne. “It’s just a business arrangement.”

I drained the rest of my beverage as well.

Shit.

My mother wasn’t fazed though. She laughed that famous throaty guffaw. “Well, of course this is a business arrangement. Why else would Nolan marry you.” My mother returned to look at her day planner, where she was furiously scribbling notes. “You young women these days think I’m naïve. Were you dropped on the head as a baby, Charlene? Thanks for reminding me I need to have a pre-nup drawn up.”

My mother flipped another page and began marking names. Meanwhile, Charlie sat stunned in her seat. She looked at me and I shrugged. There really was no reasonable explanation for my mother except that she was New York new money. Because she’d married it.

Still looking down with a smirk that could be seen five tables over, my mother continued, “Given your short time at the company and knowing the past shenanigans my adoring son has pulled in the past, it was completely obvious that your upcoming nuptials were a part of some harebrained business deal cooked up by Nolan as an incentive to close on that gargantuan piece of dirt on the Lower East Side that he’s so fond of.”

For once, she surprised me. She’d seen through some of my bullshit before, but I never thought she would realize this was a sham engagement. A sigh of relief came over me, followed closely by a twinge of anger that I couldn’t throw this in her face anymore, if only to annoy the shit out of her.

“What?” My mother scoffed in my direction as she tapped her Pianki against the paper. “Did you really expect me to fall for this? As soon as you told me that she wasn’t pregnant, I knew this was a sham. Please, Nolan. Give your mother some credit.”

The waiter brought over our dishes, but I wasn’t hungry. The thought of red meat swirling in my rancid belly made me nauseous. I pushed the plate away from my place setting, causing another glare of censure from my mother.

She turned her icy stare to Charlie. “Just because you are better suited to a marriage with someone who belongs in a mechanic’s jumpsuit back in Georgia–”

“Mother!” I warned. “That’s enough. Charlie went to Harvard. She’s a lawyer.”

My mother pursed her lips. “That may be so, Nolan. But I know she went on a poor girl’s scholarship. What of her father? Who are his people and where are they from?”

The waiter hastily left as I banged my fist on the table and welcomed the rattle of the silver. “Where are
you
from? You will not talk that way to Charlie.” I hissed out the words with enough venom to be worthy of a diamondback with fangs bared.

My mother recovered quickly with a dismissive shrug of her elegant shoulders. “If you would let me finish without all the dramatics, Nolan. Now, if you want your business deal to fall through, by all means, forgo the engagement party and get a quickie marriage in Vegas. But if you want everyone to actually believe in this sham of an engagement, you need the party. You need
me
. Or else, this will all crumble at your inappropriately clad feet. I will not sit by and let the Banks name get strewn through the mud over this…” She gestured at Charlie, then took a long drink of her champagne before setting the glass down and wiping a linen napkin over her blood red lips. “Now, let’s eat like civilized people.”

I could tell by the look on Charlie’s face that she wanted to slap my mother. Right across her smug face. Maybe even throw the glass of champagne at her designer outfit and storm out of the restaurant. Leave my mother behind. Leave me behind.

But she didn’t.

I knew that Charlie had pride and she wouldn’t do a single one of those things. And I was beginning to love her all the more for it. Her best qualities weren’t superficial like my mother’s. What was great about Charlie ran deep. Bone deep. Soul deep.

“Thank you, Mrs. Banks,” Charlie conceded. She took a tentative bite of her French toast. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for us.”

I wanted to kiss my fiancée right then and there. Then, take her to my house and fuck her senseless.

Chapter Four

Central Park in fall. The scenery had never looked more beautiful. No matter how long I lived in the city, I still found the park a strange but serene place to get away from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan. I always found myself at peace when I went to the park, no matter the crazy emotions roiling through my body. That was a big reason why I brought Charlie here after our brunch with my mother. Her shoulders were clenched and her lips pursed as she quietly seethed.

“Nolan, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.” She stopped after we’d walked a short distance. I could barely hear her words. I didn’t blame her.

Walk away from me now, Charlie. Walk away if you know what’s good for you. I destroy everything in my wake. Most of all, I destroy myself.

She wrung her hands and visibly shivered. I wrapped my arms around her even though it really wasn’t that cold outside. “I really don’t know what the hell I was thinking. No one in their right mind could do this. When you first proposed, I thought I could do it. But after meeting with your mother – this – I can’t, Nolan.”

“Stop,” I instructed her. “You’re getting yourself too worked up, Charlie. I’m worried about you.” I took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Look at me.”

I stroked the side of her refined jaw and tipped her chin until she turned her big blue eyes on mine. The gorgeous eyes that now glistened with tears. I knew what that moisture cost a proud woman like Charlie. But I’d gone and done it anyway. I’d hurt her for my own selfish gain.

“Take a deep breath,” I told her. Watching her gulp down some cleansing air, I started to worry. Maybe she
couldn’t
handle this. My mom was known to bring grown men to their knees with her icy cold stares and vicious actions. Myself included. It was a lot to deal with even for a woman as intelligent and strong as Charlie.

“How?” she asked, batting those long eyelashes at me, blinking the wetness away. Or trying to.  Her open heart and raw emotions might be my undoing.

I snaked both arms around her to caress her back. “Woman, you are strong. I’ve seen you at work with that barracuda, Jasmine. You’ve tackled every task given to you like some legal Hercules. If I didn’t think you could do this, I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me.” I pressed the words as a whisper in her ear.

Her soft breasts crushed my chest, raising my heart rate all over the place. The smell of her hair drove me crazy. I could hold her like this forever.

Forever.

“Wow, you’re comparing me and your mother to superheroes?”

I pulled away slightly. “Charlie, let’s just get through the next few weeks. You’ll be paid handsomely for your time and expertise.”

She stiffened and at that moment, I knew she’d misunderstood. I’d offended her. It seemed I couldn’t do anything right where Charlie was concerned. Was this what it was like to care more about someone else than you cared about yourself? To love someone? If it was, I didn’t know if I could make it through to the other side unscathed. Whole.

“You think that’s why I’m doing this?” Charlie snapped defensively, pushing me away. “You think I can be bought? Money means nothing to me, Nolan. I’m not one of your little minions you can order around just because your dad owns half this city.” She crossed her arms over her chest, effectively closing herself off from me. Shutting down her heart. I might need a chisel to break through after my careless words.
“
I can’t believe I let myself get sucked into this sham with you. I should know better. My dad raised me better.”

I lowered my voice. Tried to soothe her. Draw her in closer to me. “I’m sorry if you think I’m mistreating you. I just want you to be fairly compensated for the integral part you’re playing in this deal. Over and above the Grant Project. It’s important to me that you know how much your help means to me. I’m sorry, Charlie.”

I pushed my hands through my hair, frustrated at how inept I’d become. Every word I vomited from my mouth sounded like bullshit. I tried again. “After meeting my mother, you have to understand that I was raised that caring is expressed through things and not emotions. I know I’m blowing it with you and it kills me. But this – this is what I know. What I’m good at.” I pulled her close to me again. Pleading with my body. Breathing in her scent while trying to chase the ghost of her anger. “Please say you understand. That you’ll stay.”

Her breath came out on a little sigh and she softened under my embrace. “I seriously doubt if there is any bonus adequate enough to deal with your mother,” Charlie muttered, shuffling her feet in the fallen leaves. “I do feel for you after today, Nolan. My father may not have had much by way of material possessions and social status, but I never lacked for anything important. I had his love.”

Her words struck me. Leaving a hole. A hole bigger than this park. With the emptiness of parental love that I’d never known. Would never know. No matter how many times I tried to take it.

“Come on, Charlie,” I said. “Surely there’s something I can do make this easier for you?”

“I’m not sure there’s anything short of a time machine that you could give me right now,” she pouted, those lush lips falling open. “Like the vocal stylings of Carrie Underwood, I want to uh-uh-uh-uh-undo it.”

“Well, I don’t have any way to contact Dr. Emmett Brown or the Grand Ole Opry, but how about a cool million?” The words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them. Like a bad cocaine habit.

Charlie surprised me with her high-pitched laugh. “Are you serious?”

I stood perfectly still, dropping my arms to my side. Of course I was serious. I wanted – needed – this deal to go through. Charlie was my ace in the hole.

“Wait a minute,” she said after studying my face, “you
are
serious!”

“Yes, Charlie de Monaco,” I whispered. “Very much so.”

I could see the wheels turning in her head. See how much a million dollars could mean to her. Not to mention the ability to help her dad. The low income housing building I planned to develop would be a great feather in her cap. Coming from a broken home with a single dad who raised her, struggling to live paycheck-to-paycheck. I know the life she led before coming to New York wasn’t an easy one.

A million dollars would buy her a whole new life. It would pay off her remaining student loans from college and law school that I knew she still struggled with. It would afford her dad a chance to finally retire. Buy a house. Invest. This kind of money was a drop in the bucket to the Banks family. A million dollars meant nothing to me. Having Charlie commit to our business deal was priceless.

Of course, the other benefits would be worth it to me as well. Having Charlie on my arm – a beautiful young lady with those gorgeous blue eyes – at the various functions I needed to attend. Having Charlie in my bed. Those long legs wrapped around me as I made love to her. Yes, it was well worth it. The question was – did she think so?

“Well?” I held my breath as I uttered the syllable. “Will you help me?”

My voice snapped her out of the dazed look. She shook her head, surprising me again for the third or fourth time today. “I don’t want your money,” she answered. “I have my pride. As long as you stick to your promise about the low income housing project, that’s enough payment for me.”

Of course that’s what she’d say.

“Of course, my word is as strong as an oak,” I agreed. “But it doesn’t mean that I can’t pay you a bonus or overtime for the hours you’ll be putting in.”

“As long as what you are paying me, you would be paying someone else,” she said with a resigned tilt to her chin. “I won’t take a penny more. It doesn’t feel right to me.”

I shook my head. Any other girl in this great city would take my money in a heartbeat and not think twice about it. Charlie didn’t want my money. I wish she wanted me.

“I also think we should lay down some ground rules about this engagement thing,” she said.

Shit. Of course there would be rules. She was an attorney. There would always be rules with Charlie. Hopefully, she wouldn’t draw up some kind of binding contract and force me to sign it. I don’t think I could deny her anything, and I didn’t want to sign some fucking farcical document. I held my breath again. “Care to elaborate what these rules will be?”

“Our engagement is only for one month,” she said in a rush. Like she’d been planning this little speech all day. “I’ll let your mother do her thing. She can handle the engagement party and all the wedding details. I’ll stay out of her way as long as she stays out of mine. As soon as this real estate deal is done – signed on the dotted line – and the housing project is in full swing, we’ll stage an amicable break-up. We’ll remain friends. And I get to keep my job at the real estate company at my current salary. No one – and I mean no one – will know about this.”

“You mean, no one except my mother.” I could have slapped myself for letting that come out.

She blushed. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s like she injected me with truth serum.”

I kissed her forehead. “It’s okay. If you hadn’t, I would have probably caved and spilled it myself.”

She pulled away again before looking up at me. “Let’s get back to the rules, shall we?”

I shook my head. “I think I can agree to those terms.” Only because she’d left sex off the table.

Charlie laughed. “I wasn’t finished.”

Shit. Shit. And shit.

“No lovemaking. Behind closed doors, we keep this strictly platonic.”

I raised my eyebrows. “What? But why?”

Not touch Charlie? Smell her hair and stroke her silky soft skin? Not acceptable.

“I don’t want to make this any harder for me.” The whispered admission cost her. I knew it. Lack of intimacy wasn’t what she really wanted. But conservative Charlie was being led by her head and not her heart. “I don’t want either of us to get attached. It just makes for a messy breakup in the end. I want it clean and simple.”

“Charlie,” I soothed as I wrapped my arms around her shoulders. “It’s going to be really hard not to break that rule.” I kissed her on the forehead, my lips lingering on her temple. “You are so beautiful. And I know that you want me as much as I want you.”

She leaned back from me, already relying on the barrier of space. “Either you agree to the terms or we can call your mother now and call off the engagement.”

“Okay,” I said to Charlie. But rules were made to be broken. If you called my New England boarding school and asked Dean Ryker, he’d tell you I’d broken every rule ever written at least three times. “I’m fine with that rule. You’re the one who’ll have a hard time with it.”

Complete and utter bullshit.

“Thank you.” Charlie visibly deflated as she took my hand in the ceremonial shake like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders the second I’d agree to keep my distance. Too bad she hadn’t noticed my fingers were crossed behind my back. She took my hand and we started walking along the pathway again. Hand in hand. Just like every other couple that passed by us. It would be hard for both of us to pretend that this wasn’t real for any length of time.

“I’ll give you whatever you want,” I said, looking straight ahead as we continued to walk, leaves crunching beneath our feet. A horse and buggy passed by us with a happy couple perched on the red velvet seat. As the clop of the horse’s hooves fell in perfect time with the beat of my heart, I leaned over and kissed Charlie on the temple. It was a romantic fall day in the city but the girl on my arm thought she didn’t belong to me.

But she did. She’d already wormed her way into my heart and she’d never leave it.

This may have started as a sham, but that was only a way for me to legitimize my feelings for Charlie. The ones that had been brewing for years. From afar. The way she handled my mother this morning sealed the deal for me.
All I could think about was her soft lips on mine. Drink her sweetness. I wished I could just tell her how I felt about her. What I knew. The words tasted salty upon my lips and I wanted to let them fall out or lick them away, but I did neither.

I was a damn coward. Because for right now, even the tiniest bit of Charlie was better than none. I couldn’t handle the devastation if she rejected me. Just these short weeks of spending time with her had filled that gaping hole in my soul just the tiniest bit and I didn’t want to go back. Back to feeling empty. Being empty.

Mick Jagger’s been singing about it since 1969 and that skinny Brit is right. You can’t always get what you want. Even if you’re Nolan-God-Damn-Banks.