Blackmailed by the Billionaire Brewer (4 page)

“And I was the lucky guy to get hurt?”

A stab of guilt stalled her for a moment. “Hurt? For real? That was never my intention.
Besides, it was you going on about being a drifter and an opportunist, remember? Walking
away from a one-night stand of consensual, no-strings lust does not equate with hurt.”

“Okay, I was offended, and upset because I wanted to see you again.”

“Looks like you got what you wanted in that case.” She needed this conversation to
end and its subject matter to never resurface again. “You might as well know I behaved
like I did because I’d been hurt badly. The man who said he loved me dumped me for
a teenage cocktail waitress on Christmas Eve. It’s not a great excuse, but it’s the
truth, and for what it’s worth, I’m not particularly proud of myself.”

Matt screwed up his face in disgust. “What a jerk.”

“Something like that.” His words pleased her. Stanley was a jerk and not just for
dumping her like he had. “So you’ll understand why dating, relationships, all that
kind of thing is totally off the menu for me right now. Probably for good.”

“But you still have needs, hence Sanibel. I was a kind of sexy tapas, just a taste
of what could be something much more substantial.”

“Clever analogy.” She pushed away her glass and looked him in the eye. They were such
a dark brown they were almost black, like molasses. “But I’m too bruised and bitter
to do anybody any good right now, however genuine they are, however pleasant or attractive
they may appear.”

“Is that a back handed compliment?”

She sighed and looked out of the window at the front of the bar. Snow was beginning
to fall. “Matt, I’m only here because if I don’t go along with your crazy plan, you’ll
make sure I never get paid temp work in Passion Creek again, ruin my reputation, and
harm my business in the process, so let’s not pretend otherwise. And, as you’ve pointed
out, the beer campaign could be good for my own business, too, so I might not have
to work for that rotten agency again. But we have to keep this strictly business from
now on.”

He frowned, following the direction of her gaze. “Okay, I’ll keep it strictly business
for as long as you do.”

“Which will be until the bitter end at your PCB No. 68 official launch. I still need
a firm date for that.”

“Agreed, and you’ll know as soon as I do about the launch date. I’ll get that list
of publicity-related appointments and social engagements emailed to you in the next
few hours. But to give you a head start, we have a gallery opening to attend in a
few days’ time, swiftly followed by an associate’s wedding. Dress code is ultra-expensive.
It’s being billed as the Passion Creek wedding of the year.”

“So far.” Piper was impressed at how she’d managed to get those two words to drip
with sarcasm.

“Not your kind of thing right now, understandably, but it’s a dress-to-impress occasion.
Even I might wear a tie.”

“I’m sure I have something suitable in my closet.”

“No, here’s something to tide you over until I can get a company credit card processed
for you.” He handed over a roll of bills and a business card. “Should cover some nice
shoes and stuff. This season’s, please. And my card has all my contact details in
case you need to check anything with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my own shoes.”

He pressed his lips together in a frown. “Strictly business, remember? That’s what
you wanted, so that’s what you’ll get. Now I’m not expecting you to turn up at the
brewery’s finance department anymore and I’m giving you a couple of days,
paid
, to make arrangements to cover your own business affairs, which is pretty good of
me. So don’t argue with the boss, please, just go out and buy a more appropriate wardrobe.”

Piper bit her tongue and forced a brittle smile.

Jerk.

Chapter Four

Piper ground her teeth as she waited for her friend Melanie to arrive at the Passion
Creek Beanery coffee house that afternoon. Had Matt DeLeo meant to be so patronizing
by telling her to buy new clothes that morning?

She found it hard to believe she’d allowed him to get away with it if he had, but
her head was all over the place and unable to mentally process what had happened to
her in the last few days, how her life had suddenly been taken over and turned upside-down.
She needed to talk to someone she trusted to help her get some kind of perspective
and lovely, dependable, secret-keeping Melanie was always there as a shoulder to cry
on.

“Hi babe.” Melanie’s voice had a tinkly quality to it that reminded Piper of the candy
store doorbell of her childhood, instantly soothing. “Half-shot latte? Or something
stronger?”

“Americano,” Piper said grimly.

Melanie’s eyes widened and her pink glossed lips formed an O. “Understood.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” Piper said a few moments later as she threaded her fingers through
the handle of the coffee mug. “Thanks for coming at such short notice. It’s damn freezing
out there today, isn’t it?”

“Sure is. I’m wishing I could take some time off and hit the beach, like you just
did.” Melanie put a cookie down on the table and grinned. “So did you get enough shells
and stuff in Sanibel?”

“Yeah.”

“You met someone, didn’t you?”

This was unusually direct for Melanie, but her friend was almost psychic about these
things and she had told her on the phone that she needed an emergency advice summit.
“Um…”

“You’re kidding me? Ohmygod. Spill!”

“It was nothing. A one-night stand. We were drunk.”

“But you still—”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And nothing. It was hot, but it’s history. One night, five hours flying time away.”

Melanie wiped crumbs off her mouth and swallowed a bite of cookie quickly. “Tell!
Tell me all about him.”

“He just happened. He was therapy. An attempt to get Stanley out of my head for good.”
Melanie’s mossy green eyes were wide like saucers and she nodded for Piper to continue.
“He was the hottest guy I ever…but that’s it. I left before he woke up.” Which wasn’t
strictly true, but nobody needed to know she’d bolted while she thought he was in
the bathroom.

“Aw.”

“Yep, I’m a total bitch.”

“You left him a note though, right?”

“No, bitches don’t leave notes, now do they?”

Melanie rolled her eyes to the ceiling and tipped her head from side to side as she
weighed the argument. “That was kind of rude of you.”

“Yes, I know.”

Melanie fidgeted with exasperation. “You’re not saying much. More detail!”

“Concentrate on eating that thing or you’ll choke.” Piper waved her coffee spoon at
the offending baked good. “I need you conscious and lucid right now.”

“What did he look like?”

Piper sighed and let the spoon fall with a clatter onto the table. She was exhausted
and she had dragged her friend away from her wedding planning business at one of her
busiest times. “Oh, I don’t know, a cross between Brandon Flowers, Adam Levine, and
Robert Downey, Jr. Younger than the real Downey, though.”

“That’s a relief.” Melanie did a duh face. “Sounds pretty good to me.”

“He was or, at least, that’s the way it seemed by the time we’d drank all the rum
on Sanibel Island.” The memory of all that alcohol made her stomach gurgle. “Fewer
tattoos than Levine, but pretty ones. And he was bigger.”

“Bigger?”

“Muscles! Talk about a filthy mind.” Piper thought Matt had muscles like granite.
“And maybe bigger in the other department, who knows? I’ve never had a one-night stand
with the other three.”

Melanie bit down on her bottom lip with excitement. “So he was—”

“Enough questions. Eat up, so we can talk seriously. You really might choke when I
tell you what happened today.” Piper wasn’t ready to admit she felt guilty about leaving
Sanibel the way she did, no note, no thanks for a great time and all that. He’d been
in the right place at the right time and she had used him. He was totally right about
that.

“Okay, I’m done.” Melanie popped the last piece of food into her mouth and grinned.
“I can’t wait to hear this!”

A few minutes later Piper had told Melanie everything about Matt DeLeo from start
to finish, and Piper was breathless and light-headed from talking so fast. “So, to
summarize, I’m being blackmailed by the one-night-stand who turns out to be my new
boss, and I feel totally stressed. Got any ideas how I can make it all go away?”

Melanie slid her fingertips over the screen of her iPhone. “The definition of the
verb blackmail is to demand money from someone in return for not revealing compromising
information about them
or
to force someone to do something by using threats or manipulating their feelings.”

“Not helping so far, darling.”

“He’s not demanding money from you, is he?”

“There’d be little point in that now, would there? He’s a millionaire and I’m broke.
But he is using threats, the temp agency, and the things I allegedly told him when
I was drunk that could affect my business, remember? Not to mention the panties he
hasn’t given back, God help me, and anyway, he admitted he was blackmailing me.”

Melanie put her phone slowly down on the table and pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Fair
enough, but it’s just a word, really. If you take a step back and look at this with
a cold, clear heart, it’s the nicest form of blackmail imaginable.”

“What? Judas!”

Melanie shrugged. “Sometimes the truth hurts, and sometimes we can’t even see it until
somebody points it out. That’s why you called me here today, isn’t it? For some perspective?
For some candid advice?”

What a shitty day this was turning out to be. “I guess so, but—”

“But nothing. You were attracted enough to this guy to have a one-night stand and
it was hot, so he’s not repulsive. And he’s not demanding you become his sex slave
for a month. You’re flat broke, and this job will pay over three times what you could
possibly earn temping. You get to have a brand new wardrobe and attend a bunch of
awesome events instead of counting beans in a back office with a bunch of nasty women
and bitter men. And the business opportunities will be amazing! Use this to your advantage.
Make it work for you.”

“It’s humiliating! He’s manipulating me.”

Melanie suddenly looked stern. “He’s not doing anything that you didn’t willingly
allow Stanley to do. Stanley never helped you in any way at all. He dragged you down
and shoved your face in the dirt, remember?”

Piper felt her cheeks heat—the truth did hurt. “I wish people had told me how much
they hated him when we were together.”

“Nobody wanted to hurt you, Pipes,” Melanie said softly. “And would you have listened?”

Piper sighed. “No, I wouldn’t. I’d have dumped everyone in a rage and Stanley would
have had me completely isolated from anything that distracted me from him.”

“That’s what real manipulators do. It got to the point where he’d be derogatory to
you in public and you wouldn’t even defend yourself anymore. It hurt me to have to
stand by and keep my mouth shut.”

“Thanks for sticking with me, Mel. Those were some bad years. I can’t believe I let
him crush my self-esteem like he did. He even ran me down in front of his boss, for
God’s sake.”

“You can see it now, that’s the important thing, and now it’s time to move on. Move
upward. You’re free from him and all the toxicity of that relationship.”

“So the upshot of what you’re saying is that I should go along with what DeLeo wants
me to do and just grin and bear it?”

“I say it could be a whole lot worse and you might actually enjoy yourself.”

“Jesus, that’s what he said!”

“Looks like you’re outvoted then.” Melanie drained the last of her coffee and slipped
the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “And I have a hunch that the wedding of
the year you’re going to in a couple of weeks is one of my commissions because we
have pink beer at the banquet. You might even recognize the coral tealight holders
you sold me. So I’ll see you there, looking fabulous and very expensive at the bankable
brewer’s expense.”

Piper watched Melanie leave, and then squeezed her eyes shut tight against the world.
Her fate was apparently sealed.

The walk from the coffee shop to the retail premises that Silver Bells and Cockle
Shells shared with other craft stores and then back to her apartment was a vicious
experience. The weather had been growing progressively worse and now high winds lashed
bitter snowflakes into her face and hair. By the time she’d walked down Fourth Street,
she wished she’d taken a cab to avoid this hell. The streets were emptying fast so
she couldn’t expect any walk-in customers. At least she’d managed to get her stock
updated in the ten minutes she’d spent at her store and arranged some cover for the
times when she wouldn’t be around.

Sophie was supposed to take some of it on anyway, her way of repaying Piper for putting
a roof over her head, picking up her mess, and feeding her. Something told Piper she
was getting the rough end of the deal, but family was family and she was sure Sophie
would put herself out in the same way if their situations were reversed. Maybe.

Outside her apartment in the freezing cold, she fumbled with her keys as she tried
to get the right one in the lock, but her fingers were clumsy and the key ring fell
with a clatter onto the metal walkway. “Damn it.” The awkward grind of the lock mechanism
seemed even more infuriating than usual, the last twist of the knife after a painful
day. Her tiny foyer was dark, biting cold, and silent. Until a pitiful mewl came from
deep inside the gloom.

“Sophie?” The place was empty. Piper put her purse on the telephone table in the hall
and shrugged off her coat so as not to trail melting snow through the place. Icy fingers
of dread crept up her spine as she acknowledged her furnace had probably broken down
again, just what she needed. She flicked on the front room’s light and saw the pregnant
cat curled up on the sofa.

“Has Soph abandoned you, kitty?” Her attention was caught by a sheet of paper taped
to the television screen.

Dear Piper, had a chat with Mom and Dad and they said I could come visit for a few
days, maybe even move back if things work out. You were right about telling me to
try to make up. They don’t seem nearly so mad with me now. :0)

There was no hot water this morning and it’s really cold!

Sophie

P.S. The cat got its tail stuck in the bathroom door, but it looks okay.

xoxoxoxoxo

Her heart sank. The cat was mewling and had been licking at the end of her tail since
she’d come in. Closer inspection revealed that the end of it had been degloved. A
pink shiny tip protruded from the gray fur and made Piper want to wince. It must hurt
like hell, poor thing.

“Shame on you, Sophie Reilly,” she muttered quietly so as not to distress the animal
further. “This cat is not okay, are you, kitty?”

At five p.m., it was far too late to get a veterinary appointment as a new patient.
She should have found a vet earlier, but life had just got out of hand in the last
few weeks, so she needed to think fast. There was a late night drop-in vet clinic
on the outskirts of Passion Creek. She’d seen the signs for it a few times when she’d
been on the way to the shell wholesalers. That would be her best bet, and the quicker
she got there, the better with the way the weather was turning.

Five minutes later, having changed into jeans and a sweater, she was on the highway
out of town with a snarling cat strapped into the front seat in a cardboard box. The
cat was not happy and the noise coming out of the box was pretty much the same as
a child screaming—absolutely horrible and very distracting. The snow was also falling
faster in great thick lumps that hit the windshield and splattered into wet bursts,
battering the windshield wipers that struggled to keep up with the onslaught.

“Not far now, kitty,” she soothed and turned the heater up full blast. It made the
old Dodge Intrepid smell like a junkyard, an unpleasant combination of hot electrics,
burning dust, and ancient air conditioning gas. “Just another couple of miles, sweetheart.”

Perhaps the sound of the radio would calm both their nerves. Some local radio was
bland enough: easy listening, local news stories, nothing too abrasive.

…polar vortex forecasted to cause extreme weather conditions in Passion Creek over
the next two days. Residents are advised not to venture out unless absolutely necessary.
Shortages of batteries, milk, and bread in stores have already been reported. Stay
indoors and please do not call on the emergency services unless the situation is critical.

Piper turned the radio sharply off. “Great.” The cardboard box of pregnant cat rocked
in the car seat like something possessed. “We’re three quarters of the way there,
might as well keep going now. Maybe they’ll have a nice big dog basket I can crash
in overnight, huh?”

She smiled to herself, hoping that the physical process of making those facial muscles
work would kick off a feel-good hormone or something, and then her heart skipped a
beat. A warning light on the dashboard was blinking on and off, silent but as effective
as a red-hot needle near her eyeball. The symbol looked like a chunky toy submarine
and had the word
check
underneath. “Check what?” Her hands suddenly felt clammy on the steering wheel and
she wasn’t all that cold anymore. She swallowed and stared hard at the road ahead
that was quickly disappearing under the snow.