by J. L. Leslie
I truly hated leaving Julian this morning. We had a perfect night together followed by a perfect morning. We cooked breakfast together and made love on his kitchen counter. He has this way of bringing out a sexual nature inside me that I didn’t know existed.
I worried his confession of love was a fluke, said in the heat of the moment, but we repeated it. While we fed each other, when we kissed, when we came together. I was crazy for thinking I could forget about him and let him marry someone he doesn’t love.
There is nothing we can’t overcome. At least that’s what I believe until I see my sister’s face when I arrive at F&C’s. It’s clear she’s beyond pissed, but more so, she’s disappointed.
“I don’t need a lecture,” I say, tying on an apron.
“Wasn’t planning on giving you one,” she replies. “Just was going to tell you that you’re being the biggest fucking idiot I’ve ever seen by sleeping with an engaged man who has no intention of calling off his wedding. You’re no better than Elliott.”
I flinch at her words. My fiancé was a cheater. Not just with one woman, but with many. He lied to me for years. He made me fear relationships and commitment. Sent my self-esteem on a downward spiral. I am nothing like him.
“I’m going to ignore that jab because it’s early and perhaps you haven’t had your coffee yet,” I say, making an attempt to lighten the mood.
“You are better than this, Frankie. You are better than him and you are better than his fiancée. How could you let —”
“I love him!” I yell, cutting her off before she continues her rant. “I love him, okay? I am putting myself out there, willing to get my damn heart trampled on, because I am in love with Julian.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Claire shakes her head sadly and approaches me, enclosing me in a hug. “Then, I hope he can fix this mess he’s in and become everything you deserve and more. I will fucking end him if he hurts you any further.”
“I am afraid,” I admit. “But I’m more afraid of not having him in my life.”
She hugs me more tightly, assuring me that although she may not agree with my decision, she’s here for me, and that’s what I need from her right now. When she breaks the hug, she places her hands on my shoulders.
“Okay, are you giving him a deadline? I really think you should do that.”
She drops her hands to her sides, and we start prepping the muffins and pastries for the breakfast orders.
“I probably should, but I haven’t thought about it, yet. Do I tell him the deadline or just keep it mentally locked away as a goal for myself?”
“I think you should keep it to yourself for now, but if it gets close and he hasn’t fulfilled his end of the bargain, you should let him know he’s running out of time. If he has no pressure to call things off, then who’s to say he actually will? Men have no real concept of time and always want to do things in their own way, their own pace.”
“You make a good point,” I agree. “Okay, I’ll give him one week.”
“One week?”
“Yes, one week. That’s to ensure he has ample time to change or finalize any business deals that were set to fall into place with his nuptials. After that, I walk away.”
Claire nods in agreement. “One week and then you walk away. No second or third chances.”
“Yep. One week. That’s all I’m giving him.”
I tell myself one week is generous, more than enough time. I only pray he sees it that way.
Forty
Havoc
My morning started out fantastic. Bacon, eggs, and Frankie. Not necessarily in that order. Having her there with me lifted a ten-ton weight off my shoulders.
Fuck, I even told her I love her.
I’m not the type of man to say those words loosely. Hell, I’ve only uttered those words to my madre. But this undeniable feeling, it has to be what it is. There is no other explanation.
Percy Sledge had it correct. I would do every single thing the song says. I would trade the world, spend my very last dime, and sleep out in the rain if she told me to. If that’s the way she wanted it.
What can I say? I am in love and if my reputation for being ruthless and heartless precedes me, those fuckers have no clue what I’m capable of doing to keep this feeling from never leaving me. I will do whatever the fuck it takes to ensure I don’t lose her.
No one is impenetrable.
No one has immunity.
“I’m here to see Roger Deviline.”
The butler looks at me with wide eyes and pushes open the door. “It’s been a very long time since you’ve paid us a visit, Mr. Havoc.”
“I figure it’s time,” I reply.
He’s stiff as he leads me up the stairs and to a dimly lit bedroom. It’s broad daylight outside but the dark curtains obscure the sunshine. Roger Deviline is lying on an oversized four-poster bed.
The butler trots over and leans down to Roger, whispering in his ear. After a few seconds, he assists Roger into a sitting position, fluffing pillows behind his back so that he can lean back comfortably, and then quietly leaves us. The soft beep of the hospital machine is a constant reminder that he’s in his last days.
“I apologize for stopping in unannounced.”
“You’re marrying my daughter. Stop in anytime you wish,” he says and then begins coughing.
I’m not aware of his actual diagnosis. Honestly, I haven’t given enough of a shit to find out, but I do know it involves lung disease and congestive heart failure. Hopefully, what I’m going to say to him won’t send him into a fucking heart attack.
“I discovered some very disturbing information,” I say and pull my phone from my pocket. “It has forced my hand, sir. The wedding is not going to occur.”
I hold my phone out and show him the video. He squints his eyes and his hand trembles when he realizes what he’s seeing.
“Do you recognize this man?” I ask and he shakes his head. “Has your attorney contacted you regarding the prenuptial agreement?”
He furrows his brow. “I haven’t drafted a prenuptial agreement. Anneliese was taking care of it.”
“She was, I suppose. That’s my attorney in the video. The two of them have been conspiring to take over your company.”
Sure, the prenup states I get thirty percent, but with Anneliese having the same shares, she could easily gain a controlling percentage. Adam has been adamant that Roger would not budge on that percentage. That’s been their plan all along.
“I have made it clear to Anneliese that she will receive ten percent ownership of the business, but I need a CEO who has a knack for business, not for jet-setting.”
I open my briefcase and take out the agreement, handing it over to him. “She would receive thirty percent, sir. Which makes her a majority shareholder, with me as CEO, and that percentage provides her with the opportunity to buy out other investors and replace the board members with people of her choosing.”
“My board members are loyal,” he argues.
“They will not stand a chance against her. She will only need to take ownership of five more percent of the company to be the majority shareholder. If you sell the company to me now, I can assure you, I will not replace your board members and I will keep your valued employees.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll take it from you. Prior to my arrival, I met with Graham Morgan. He’s already in the process of contacting your board members and persuading them to agree to a hostile takeover. Loyalty, right?”
“They wouldn’t sell me out!” he chokes out. “They wouldn’t!”
“Everyone can be bought, sir.” He sinks back against the pillows, clearly overwhelmed. “I’ll give you until tomorrow to decide.”
I leave him alone, pushing back the slight guilt that rises within me for blackmailing him. I know he wasn’t a part of the plan Anneliese and Adam concocted. He’s simply being affected by the aftermath. Either way, I’ll have the hotel chain.
I would like to believe he’ll
cave. He doesn’t want Graham Morgan taking over his business. Doesn’t want the scandal that comes with a hostile takeover. But at the same time, he doesn’t want me to own it if I’m not marrying his daughter.
“Graham Morgan, please.” It takes a few moments for him to pick up the line. “He has until tomorrow to provide me with an answer. Let me know if you hit any snags.”
He chuckles. “I won’t. Tell me though, why did you come to me? You’re trusting me with a hell of a lot.”
If Graham is required to take over Deviline Hotels, it will only be temporary. His ownership of the hotel chain is as much of a farce as my engagement is. I’m trusting him to turn the company over to me.
“Because you’re not the type of man to backstab another.”
“This is true. Now what?”
“You take care of business and call me with an update. I have business of my own to tend to. It’s time to call off my engagement.”
Forty-One
Frankie
I check the address I’m delivering to again and smile when I realize it’s the headquarters for the advice column “Ask Ida.” I only know of one person who works in this area.
Soraya greets me, her long, dark hair now dyed red at the tips. I give her a questioning look and she shrugs.
“It’s not a long story and I’m happy to fill you in.” I hand her the delivery and she takes it with a huge grin on her pretty face. “I’ll be right back, and we can find somewhere to eat this.”
I wait patiently on her and when she returns, she still has two of the containers in her hand.
“Did someone not want their lunch?” I ask and she shakes her head.
“Bet you didn’t know you were making yourself lunch. There’s a picnic table behind the building. Come join me for lunch if you have time.”
I don’t have any other deliveries to make until this afternoon. I follow her through the building and out to the back door, taking a seat across from her at the picnic table.
“I dye my hair blue when I’m happy and red when I’m frustrated, angry, or annoyed. I will admit, it’s been blue more than red lately, ever since I met Graham, but when he’s stressed, I’m stressed.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She hands me one of the containers, and since I know what’s inside, I open it and dig into the turkey on rye.
“Do you have any idea why Havoc was calling Graham this morning? The two of them aren’t exactly business associates.”
I furrow my brow. “I have no idea. What does Graham do?”
“He works in finance. I’ll never understand it,” she says with a laugh. “When I spoke to him earlier, he seemed troubled. Havoc had called him, and he never calls him. He wouldn’t divulge the details, though. Told me he would fill me in later.”
“I would think it’s business, then. I wouldn’t know.”
“Did things get, you know, uncomplicated with him?”
I’m unable to stop the blush that rises to my cheeks. I try to hide it by shoving another bite of the sandwich into my mouth, which makes Soraya laugh.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Thank you! I don’t have to attend that god-awful wedding now. It’s one of those things we have to attend because it’s expected, but we’re trying to find a way out without looking like assholes.”
I pale at those words. “Well, he hasn’t exactly called off his engagement yet.”
“Frankie, don’t be an idiot,” she says. “Men always say they’re calling off their engagement or divorcing their wives, and it never happens. Wait, I take that back. It happened with my parents. My dad fell in love with someone else and left our family to make a new one.”
“I’m giving him a deadline. One week,” I say proudly.
“Just don’t let that week turn into two and then those two weeks turn into months.”
I nod, and we move on from talk of Julian and whatever business he had with Graham and begin talking about the craziest Ask Ida emails.
The light-hearted conversation with my new friend makes me feel good. Makes me feel that everything is going to be all right. Things will somehow work out. I only hope I still feel this way after a week.
Forty-Two
Havoc
I can hear the annoyance in Daysha’s voice when she informs me Anneliese is here. She’s surprisingly early. I know she didn’t get in from Miami until late last night. Her father’s comment about her jet-setting is true. She stays gone more than she’s here in New York. Her lifestyle is all about shopping, vacations, and girls’ trips.
“Make her wait until Adam arrives.”
“With pleasure.”
I’m sitting in my chair when Daysha shows the two of them in. On the outside, they almost appear to be perfect strangers. They don’t touch in any way or even acknowledge each other as they sit down across from me. No one would think he’d bent over my desk and fucked her from behind.
“Anneliese,” I say, and she flashes me a smile. “Adam.”
“Mr. Havoc, what can I do for you?” he asks.
“I thought it would be best if we discussed the prenuptial agreement together,” I reply and I see him swallow.
“Absolutely.”
“Havoc, what the hell is this all about?” Anneliese questions. “You know my father’s attorney is handling the agreement.”
I purse my lips and lean forward, picking up the agreement. I skim over it, pretending as though I’m actually reading it and considering signing it. I take my pen and begin crossing out the sections that aren’t doable for me until I’ve fucked up the entire agreement.
“The aspects that I noted need some work.”
I toss the agreement over to Adam who fumbles and drops it onto the floor. With his face flaming red, he bends down and retrieves it.
“This is the entire agreement,” he says. “I don’t believe Mr. Deviline will accept these changes, as they are substantial. Ten percent for Anneliese? He’s adamant she gets an equal majority share.”
“I understand. Let me see it again. There might be some things I can live with.”
The papers are shaking as he hands it back to me. I open my desk drawer and pull out a lighter. I hold the agreement up and light the corner on fire, watching it burn before tossing it into my garbage can.
“Mr. Havoc!” Adam raises his voice.
“None of it works for me,” I deadpan.
“I can…um…I can begin renegotiations immediately.”
I look over at Anneliese, who is doing her damnedest to appear nonchalant about the entire situation. She checks her nails and then crosses her arms over her chest.
“Anneliese, there is no amount of hotel chains, money, or power in this world that can convince me to marry you. You are vapid and self-centered.”
She laughs. “And you aren’t? That’s why we are one and the same.”
“I’m not the same man I used to be,” I say. “You can call it an amicable split. Fuck it, you can say you’re the one who called it off. I honestly don’t give a shit, but I will not marry you. È finite.”
She smiles, her eyes narrowing. “I told you to fuck the little redhead. Not get attached. What a fucking shame. She’s pussy-whipped you.”
“I told you to be discreet,” I reply, pressing the remote for the television displayed in the corner of my office. The two of them fucking appear on the screen.
Anneliese stands, placing her hands on her hips, and Adam follows suit.
“You are going to regret this, Havoc,” she warns.
“The only thing I regret is not doing this sooner. And as for you, my trusted attorney, you’re fired. I hope her pussy was worth it.”
Forty-Three
Frankie
I help Seth with a math problem ―at least I try to ― before hurrying over to the oven to check the chocolate soufflés. They’re ready, so I take them out and put them on a cooling rack before I begin packaging the rest of the food to fulfill our last order for the day.
“Maka
ila, can you bring me some more containers?” I ask and she nods, heading over to the shelf.
I’m finishing up the last bit of packaging when the doorbell chimes. I’m expecting the customer to pick up their order, but they shouldn’t be here for another half hour.
“Shit,” I mumble, and Rory laughs.
“You owe the cuss jar a dollar!”
“Yeah? Well, I owe your mom a cussing for creating that thing to begin with!” I joke and see Seth chuckling. “Don’t touch the soufflés,” I warn before going to the front.
Julian stands at the door, his phone pressed to his ear. He’s deep in conversation, his back turned to me. When he disconnects the call, he faces me. I can’t quite read him until he smiles.
“I’m officially a single man,” he says. “And I desperately want you to come over here and take me off the market. Right now.”
I practically skip over to him, launching myself into his arms and peppering his face with kisses. He laughs, a sound I’ve rarely heard.
“Are you sure? You’re a bachelor again. Some men prefer that. If I snatch you up too quickly, you won’t get to enjoy the single life,” I tease.
“Snatch me up, la mia fiamma.”
“I still have no idea what that means,” I admit.
“My flame,” he says and gently kisses my lips.
Our intimate moment is broken when Rory shrieks, “Havie!”
I let him go and he steps around me as Rory runs over to him. She hugs his leg and I watch in awe as he picks her up and kisses her cheek. She falls into a fit of giggles. Even my five-year-old niece loves this man.
“Are you helping your Aunt Frankie today?” he asks, and she nods enthusiastically as he puts her down. “Keep up the good work.”
He gives her a wink and I swear she sighs before running back to the kitchen. He walks back over to me and wraps his arms around my waist.
“I want to see you tonight. I won’t take no for an answer.”