Heartless Havoc : A Hero Club Novel

by J. L. Leslie

  Before I can make that promise, the bell chimes, and I use it as an excuse not to lie to my sister. I don’t want to make a promise I’m not one hundred percent sure I can keep.

  I would love to believe I’ll keep his number blocked, but would I have the willpower to completely ignore him if I saw him in person again? What if he did call off his engagement for me?

  No. I’m not going to be delusional. That will never fucking happen.

  But what if?

  “Welcome to F&C’s.”

  I instantly recognize the woman with her dyed blue tips. She was at Julian’s engagement party and raved about our food. She and her husband were the only patrons who were actually nice to me, not counting Julian.

  “Hey, I know you!” I say. “I’m horrible with names, although I like to think I’m not.”

  I know she won’t understand why I said that, but she laughs anyway. “Soraya, and don’t worry. Everyone gets my name wrong at least twice.”

  “I won’t forget it now,” I say. “So, what can I do for you?”

  “I told you I would be placing an order,” she says. “I have been craving your food ever since the party.”

  “I can’t tell you how excited I am to hear that!”

  “I can’t tell you how excited I am to finally get over here and order something! I promised my friends, Tig and Delia, I would arrange the catering for the next get-together at their tattoo parlor.”

  “F&C’s would be honored.”

  “Is there any way I can take you to lunch and discuss the menu?” Soraya asks.

  “Um, let me check with my sister and see where we’re at with our orders and I’ll be right back.”

  I go to the back and run it by Claire, who has a lunch date with Kyle after she makes the rest of the deliveries for the morning. Erin says she’ll finish up the last order we have for the morning, so I’m good to go.

  “I’m all yours.”

  Twenty-Two

  Havoc

  In all of my adult life, not once do I recall seeing Frankie Conn prior to my engagement party. I tell myself I would have remembered her. It isn’t possible that I would’ve ignored her vibrant smile, her contagious laughter. I would’ve been pulled to her like gravity.

  Now, here I am, seeing her by chance. While I’m grateful for the opportunity, it pisses me the fuck off that the opportunity didn’t arise prior to me being shackled to Anneliese.

  “Did you hear me? I chose the centerpieces you said you preferred,” Anneliese says.

  “I don’t recall giving you a preference.”

  She rolls her eyes, and I cast my glance back in Frankie’s direction. She’s having lunch with Soraya, and the two of them are obviously having a good time, chatting and laughing with one another. When the hell did they become friends?

  I’m here with my future wife wondering why the hell I’m still going along with this preposterous game of pretend. It’s fucking ridiculous and I hate that this is what my life has become, and more so, what it’s going to be. I’m starting to believe acquiring a multi-million-dollar hotel chain is not worth it.

  “Don’t forget the cake tasting tomorrow. I had your assistant put it on your calendar.”

  “Like this lunch? Do not contact Daysha for any of this fucking minuscule bullshit again. She works for me, not you, and I don’t have time for it.”

  Anneliese has the nerve to look wounded. I know damn well I haven’t hurt her feelings. She doesn’t have those.

  “It was the only way I could spend any time with you. You aren’t acting like yourself, Havoc. Not since the engagement party.”

  She isn’t wrong about that. While I don’t love Anneliese, we clicked in one department. Emotionless sex was an escape for both of us. Our open relationship allowed us both to get what we needed from each other and from anyone else. Neither of us gives a fuck what the other does. That type of relationship has worked for me for a very long time and I honestly thought it would work throughout my shit show of a marriage to her.

  But I have no interest in fucking Anneliese, or any other woman for that matter, since I met Frankie.

  “People are beginning to notice your lack of enthusiasm about our wedding. Do you want me to invite Milly over again? She can bring her handcu―?”

  “No.”

  “Pull yourself together then,” she snaps. “We have to keep up appearances. We’re getting married soon and I will not have you sulking in every fucking picture of us. Any other man on this planet would kill to be in your position.”

  “By all means, they are welcome to it,” I say, standing up. “I’m ecstatic to move out of their fucking way.”

  “Havoc!” Anneliese calls after me, but I ignore her, unable to resist making my way over to the table where Frankie and Soraya are seated.

  “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  Soraya seems a bit shocked, and I suppose that’s because she knows Graham and I aren’t exactly friends. Still, she manages to plaster a smile on her face and extend a greeting. Frankie, however, gingerly sips on her glass of lemonade and avoids eye contact altogether.

  “Frankie, you should ask Soraya for advice on that dilemma of yours. She works for an advice columnist. I’m sure she can help you sort it out.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Frankie denies.

  Soraya looks over at her questioningly. “Yeah, I’m sure I can help you with whatever you need.”

  “Oh, no, there’s no dilemma.”

  “She’s interested in a man she believes is unavailable,” I inform Soraya. “But despite some odd circumstances, he’s very available. Frankie is merely playing hard to get and this man will not beg.”

  She shakes her head. “Nope, not playing hard to get. The guy is definitely not available. He’s practically already standing at the altar and ready to say his vows.”

  “So, the guy’s engaged?” Soraya asks.

  “Yes,” I answer.

  “How is he available then?” Soraya questions me.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “He’s making it complicated,” Frankie adds. “He should just be with his fiancée and move on. Let me go.”

  I open my mouth and start to argue with her, but Soraya cuts in and her response is perfect.

  “Honestly, Frankie, I made the mistake of stepping back from my relationship with Graham, thinking he was better off with another woman. It’s a long story, but it changed the way I view relationships in some ways. I’m not saying you should uproot a happy home or aid him in cheating on his fiancée in any way, but if this guy, engaged or not, is the one for you, you shouldn’t give him up so easily. You should fight for him.”

  I flash Frankie a know-it-all smile. I couldn’t have said it better myself. Then, when I would’ve preferred that Soraya stop talking, she does what every woman does and adds the rest of her two cents in.

  “But if he isn’t willing to put you first, and he continues to use the excuse that things are ‘complicated’ so he can have his cake and eat it too, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

  Frankie gives me a pointed look. Damn it.

  Twenty-Three

  Frankie

  “I know it isn’t any of my business, and normally I wouldn’t pry, but I’m dying to know. Is Havoc the guy you’re having the dilemma with?” Soraya asks as her driver takes us back to F&C’s.

  I know I really don’t know her at all, but I hate to lie to her, especially when I can’t talk to Claire about this. I only want to tell someone. Get it off my chest. Someone who hopefully won’t judge the crap out of me. I have a feeling Soraya won’t do that. So, I spill it all and enjoy the relief it gives me.

  “I knew there was something off with their engagement! I kept telling Graham they don’t seem like they click, and he said they’re both heartless…well…anyway, it doesn’t matter what he said. It makes sense that it’s a business arrangement, though. No way they’re marrying for love.”

  “I don’t come from money, so I
don’t understand how all of that works. Please don’t say anything.”

  “Your secret is safe with me. I still don’t fit into that part of Graham’s world and doubt I ever will, so I gave up trying. I’m not going to conform. I can’t get used to having a car service, and I stick out like a sore thumb at every function we attend.”

  “I wouldn’t even begin to know how to live in his world.”

  “Frankie, that’s probably Havoc’s attraction to you,” Soraya says. “And I meant what I said earlier. If he isn’t willing to put you first, he isn’t worth your time. I don’t care how damn difficult his father, and his fiancée are, and I can assure you, from what I know, they’re both insufferable as hell. I doubt either one of them, especially Holman Havoc, will ever be happy with what they have. They’ll always want more.”

  The driver pulls up at F&C’s, and I thank Soraya for the ride and for placing her order, promising to get everything ready. We agree to do lunch again soon.

  “Make sure he, you know, un-complicates things,” she reminds me. “He owes you that much.”

  I step back and the driver closes the door. I’m barely inside five minutes when I hear someone come in. I tie my apron on as I walk to the front to the greet whoever it is.

  “Welcome to F&C’s.”

  The blonde is flipping through our menu book, her fingers daintily touching the pages as though she’s afraid she’ll catch a disease if they linger too long. I want to run and hide in the back, call Claire, and beg her to come back so I don’t have to talk to her. Could this day possibly get any worse?

  “Did you do the Havoc/Deviline engagement party?” she asks, staring right at me as though she hasn’t laid eyes on me a day in her life when I certainly recall standing right in front of her.

  “Let me check our records,” I reply, pretending as though I don’t recognize her as the evil bitch who belittled me and ate shrimp that had fallen on the floor. Two can play that game.

  “Yes, that was us. What can I do for you?”

  “One second,” she says, holding her perfectly manicured finger up at me.

  I watch as she pulls her phone from her purse and makes a phone call. Although I don’t want to eavesdrop, she isn’t making any attempt at being quiet.

  “I don’t care what he told you, I want the dinner put on his calendar for tonight. Do your fucking job!”

  After she finishes that phone call, she spends another few minutes on her phone typing away what I assume is text messages before she puts it back into her purse and casts a great fake smile in my direction.

  “Dinner party for eight,” she says. “We’ll need it ready at seven. Same address as the engagement party.”

  “Tonight?”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “Will that be an issue?”

  I want so badly to tell her it will be. To turn her order away, but I know if I do that, she can cripple our business. One tweet, or Instagram post from her and we’re toast. I can put F&C’s before my personal feelings when it comes to this.

  “Not at all. Have you decided on a menu?”

  “Surprise us.”

  I give her a slight nod. Shrimp it is then.

  Twenty-Four

  Havoc

  I’m fuming by the time I get to my house. I want to be angry with Daysha but I know she isn’t to blame. Anneliese pulled this little stunt all on her own. I suppose my instruction for her to stop using Daysha to schedule things for me fell on deaf ears.

  I open the door to my house, and hear chatter and laughter, which pisses me off even further. She invited people into my home without my consent. I already allowed the engagement party to be held here; I don’t need a fucking dinner party to remind me or anyone else about my upcoming nuptials.

  “What the fuck is this?” I ask, not making any attempt to hide my displeasure.

  Anneliese rushes over to me. “I wanted to surprise you,” she says and then leans in so only I can hear her. “I brought you a gift.”

  I glare down at her and then movement catches my attention as Frankie and the petite blonde who was at the party walk in from the kitchen carrying glasses of wine on serving trays.

  “I saw you speaking to her and Graham’s wife earlier today. If you need to fuck the little redhead before our wedding, do it and get it over with. Just be discreet about it.”

  Anneliese gives me a kiss on my cheek and goes back to the table where her friends are. My eyes are still trained on Frankie, who hasn’t glanced in my direction at all.

  Without taking a seat and much to Anneliese’s horror, I leave the room. I pull up my attorney’s number on my phone and call him as I head to my office. I don’t give a fuck that it’s after hours.

  “Have you reviewed the prenup?” I ask after he answers.

  “Yes, sir. It’s a standard prenuptial agreement. You retain all real and personal property you acquired prior to the marriage and so does she. You will pay her spousal support in the amount of twenty-five thousand dollars per month in exchange for becoming CEO of her father’s company so long as you remain married to her for the equivalent of sixty months. Anneliese will have a seat on the board and retain thirty percent of the company. The remaining interest in the company stays with the board, aside from your thirty percent. You will have equal shares with Anneliese.”

  “Any update on his health condition?”

  “It’s rapidly declining. He’ll be lucky to be able to attend the wedding.”

  “I want a stipulation added to the agreement. In the event that her father dies, the requirement that I remain married to Anneliese for sixty months is null and void. We can get divorced at the time of his death.”

  Adam whistles. “He won’t go for it.”

  “Then, the wedding is off. He can sign over his company to Anneliese, who has no fucking clue how to run a business. He’s lucky I’m agreeing to her receiving a thirty percent share. She has just as much stake in the company as I do.”

  “I’ll draft it and send it to his attorney.”

  I disconnect the call and put my phone on my desk. Fuck, I’ve never prayed for anyone’s death but if Rodger Deviline’s death will get me out of this contract, I hope the man stops breathing today.

  “Fuck,” I mutter to myself and then head back downstairs.

  The food has already been served, so I take a seat. I smirk at the serving of shrimp on my plate. I eat in silence while Anneliese and her friends talk about our wedding and possible honeymoon destinations. When the talk of how quickly we’ll start having children comes up, I excuse myself from the table. There’s no fucking way in hell I’m having children with Anneliese.

  I step into the kitchen where Frankie and the blonde woman are putting the finishing touches on dessert. Again, she avoids eye contact and I’m standing here, unable to tear my gaze away from her.

  “Erin, go see if they need anything,” Frankie instructs. “And take the wine for refills.”

  “Can I speak with you?”

  “I’d rather keep this area for employees only.”

  “I’ve cooked with the owner of the catering company before,” I reply, smirking. “Besides, it is my kitchen.”

  “Oh, that’s right! I was here for your engagement party, and now, your fiancée hired me for a dinner party. Looks like I’m going to be a regular!”

  “Frankie―”

  “Is this some sort of game to you? Is your fiancée in on it? Some sort of slumming fun?”

  “Slumming?”

  “Yeah, slumming. You and your fiancée have all this money, and with money, comes power, so why not play a sick game on those of us who are less fortunate? Does she have someone she’s toying with on the side, too? You both get your rocks off before you tie the knot?”

  “I’m not playing any sort of game with you.”

  “No? So, who is the real Julian, then? The one I met the night of the party who bared his soul to me, the one at your office who was arrogant enough to tell me he doesn’t beg, or the one before me now
? Because none of you are the same, and I don’t know who the hell you are!”

  I don’t intend to tell her the truth, to make any type of confession, but the way her voice breaks, the way she looks at me, has me leaving myself vulnerable again.

  “I’m not even sure who I am anymore. Not since I met you.”

  Frankie opens her mouth and then closes it, as though she were going to say some smartass comment but decided against it.

  “I’m doing everything in my power to make things less complicated, like Soraya suggested.”

  “That’s great,” she says dryly. “Some people don’t try. Some people do.”

  “Can I suggest you do the same then?” I challenge. “Fight for me. Show me I’m the one you want.”

  “When I see you putting me first, I’ll do exactly that,” she replies. “Until then, stay the fuck away from me.”

  Twenty-Five

  Frankie

  I hate my job. Okay, scratch that. I don’t hate my job, but I temporarily hated it tonight. I know Claire would have gone, but Kyle was off work and they took the kids to see a movie.

  At least, my job is done, and I made it through without having a meltdown. I served them their food and wine, tuned out all the wedding talk, and made it clear to Julian that he’s to stay away from me from here on out.

  No more lunch orders, phone calls, and definitely no more dinner parties. Of course, I still have him blocked, so the phone calls shouldn’t be an issue.

  Fight for me.

  Julian Havoc is infuriating! How dare he ask me to fight for him when he’s unwilling to do the same? He has more money than he probably knows what to do with and he’s putting a business deal above everything else! Above himself!

  Frustrated, but promising myself I won’t think of him anymore tonight, I decide to head to F&C’s rather than home. I want to try out a few new recipes and nothing relieves stress for me better than cooking.