Bad Breakup: Billionaire’s Club Book 2

by Elise Faber

  “No,” he spat.

  “Yes,” she said, desperate now. “Someone—Olivia, your mom, your sister? I don’t know, maybe all of them. They’re trying to tear us apart. Please don’t let it—”

  “I should have known better. If you were worth anything at all, your parents wouldn’t have disowned you.”

  Words weren’t supposed to be able to wound, but Colin’s hurt so much that CeCe half-expected to be flayed open when she glanced down at her chest. She wasn’t, of course, but the physical blow of his words, the agony it unleashed in her heart was real.

  “The only thing I’m guilty of is loving you.” Her voice was steady, thank God for that single miracle. “But don’t worry, I won’t make the mistake of doing that again.”

  She hung up, wanting to chuck the phone across the grassy knoll outside the church, or maybe better, to turn and smash it against the rocky exterior walls of the chapel.

  But it wasn’t hers.

  And so she calmly handed it back to Ewan who said the two most useless words in the English language. “I’m sorry—”

  She ignored him and picked up her purse before heading in what she hoped was the direction that would take her off the estate.

  “Where are you going?”

  Cecilia paused for the briefest moment. “Away from here.”

  Ewan snagged her arm when she started moving again. “Come on.” He tugged her in the opposite direction, and she saw the black car that had driven her to the chapel that morning. “I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

  Thirty-Eight

  Cecilia, present day

  * * *

  She woke with a gasp, hating that the old memories had arisen again now that Colin had flown home to Scotland.

  During the day, it was easy to pretend everything was different and better, but without him, without the other half of her heart, old doubts began to creep in and make her uncertain. Was it inevitable that things would eventually go bad between them again? Would he misjudge her?

  Would she end up all alone again?

  Sighing, she glanced at the clock and saw that it was just before four in the morning. Too early.

  But her friends should be available, Heather depending on which time zone she was in, of course.

  CeCe opened the text chain and scrolled back up, past the Outlander gifs teasing her for finding her very own Jaime, past the pictures she’d sent of the croissant she’d devoured that morning and the very long line she’d waited in for admission to the Louvre. She kept going back until she tracked down Heather’s travel plans.

  And upon seeing that her friend had returned to San Francisco after brief stops in Rome and Madrid, Cecilia sent the S.O.S.

  I need girl talk. I’m freaking out.

  Immediately, texts began pouring through.

  What’s the matter? Abby.

  How can I help? Seraphina.

  Who do I have to kill? Bec.

  Hang on, I’ll videoconference us all in. Heather.

  The screen of her laptop lit up and within a couple of seconds, each of her friends’ faces was staring back at her from a different corner.

  “It’s the middle of the night in Paris,” Abby said. “Why are you awake?”

  Cecilia rubbed the aching space between her eyebrows. “I had a bad dream.” Bec smirked, but CeCe waved her off. “Not like that. I dreamed about the day Colin and I . . . well”—she sighed, knowing that she was going to have to dish all. Their relationship status took It’s Complicated to a whole new level—“We were supposed to get married.”

  “You’re getting married?” Seraphina shrieked and clapped her hands together, her beautiful face shining brightly with joy. Sera loved happy endings. “That’s amazing! That’s—”

  “Not what’s happening,” CeCe interrupted. “Colin and I were supposed to get married six years ago.”

  Sera clamped her mouth shut. Heather said, “Hmm.” Abby’s eyes widened. But Bec said in typical rough and ready East Coast Bec fashion, “Well, fuck, the newest to our corrupted quintet of dirty old women has been holding out on us.”

  Already, Cecilia felt better. “I didn’t expect to see him again. We . . . obviously, we didn’t part on good terms. His family kind of conspired to break us up, and he believed them over me. I was hurt, so damned hurt, that I left and never looked back.”

  “And then what happened?” Abby was perched on the end of her chair, clearly riveted.

  All the girls were as she detailed the plane ride, the hotel in London and Colin following her to Finland. Her life had all the drama required for their very own CeCe-centered romance novel.

  “How’s the sex?” Bec asked with a cackle.

  Cecilia’s cheeks went red-hot. But she answered anyway. “Incredible,” she said, unable to hold back her sigh.

  Seraphina giggled. “I’ll take what she’s having.”

  Heather spoke for the first time. “So it seems like everything is going good and that you worked out a lot of your issues. Plus, he couldn’t keep his eyes—or hands—off you at dinner. What’s going on now that has you doubting him?”

  “I’m not doubting necessarily . . .” she prevaricated.

  “Try that line on a different group of horny old women,” Bec said.

  “I resent the term old,” Abby said.

  Bec waggled her brows. “But not horny?”

  “Clearly not.” Abby pointed at her slightly rounded belly.

  “Ladies,” Heather interjected. “I know you think you’re amusing, but CeCe needs to answer the question.”

  She flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the gorgeous antique ceiling. It was coffered and the swirling white woodwork was so gorgeous that she physically ached for her sketchbook. “I’m not doubting his intentions.” She groaned. “I’m just doubting our . . . I don’t know, our staying power, I guess. I mean he’s been sweet before, and now he’s not here and what if it all goes to shit again? I can’t—I don’t know how—”

  “You miss him,” Sera said.

  “Yes,” she wailed. “And now he’s back in Scotland and what if his family gets their claws into him again?”

  “Then he’s a fucking idiot,” Heather said bluntly.

  “And we cut off his balls with rusty scissors,” Bec added.

  CeCe sat up, nose wrinkling. “Why rusty?” she asked.

  A shrug. “Because that’s worse.”

  “Okay,” she said, not able to disagree with that logic.

  “Why not just fly to Scotland?” Abby asked. “If you’re not going to enjoy your solo time in Paris, you might as well visit him and spend some more time together.”

  “And hot sex,” Bec said. “She needs more of that.”

  Seraphina nodded. “I agree. This will give you both a chance to flush away those bad memories and move forward. It’s not like he can avoid his family forever.”

  “I bet he wishes he could,” Heather grumbled. “Family is a giant pain in the ass—”

  “Hey!” Abby said with a glare.

  “Present company excluded,” Heather said, smirking. “But his business is also based in Scotland, so he’ll need to go back regularly. If you can’t get over that . . .”

  Heather didn’t finish the rest of the sentence, but Cecilia heard it anyway. If she didn’t get over her discomfort with Scotland—going there, him returning home, his family—they would be stuck in this same painful cycle forever.

  It was better to rip off the Band-Aid.

  “I guess I’m going to Scotland.”

  “You pack, and I’ll get Jordan’s assistant to book you on a flight,” Abby said. “I’ll text you the details.”

  “What’s it with billionaires and assistants?” CeCe muttered.

  Abby just grinned. “You know you love it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I do.” A glance at her friends. “You guys are amazing. Thank you.”

  “Pish,” Bec said.

  “Love you!” Seraphina called.


  Carter ran onto the screen and waved at CeCe. “We love you too,” Abby called over his chattering.

  “Remember,” Heather said. “Our demons only drag us down if we give them the power to do so.”

  Cecilia’s breath caught, she opened her mouth to respond—

  Bec beat her to it. “Fuck, that was deep.”

  “Language!” Abby chided.

  Sera just smiled as Heather shook her head, hand reaching forward in her little corner of the screen. “Talk soon.” CeCe’s laptop screen went black.

  “I guess I’m doing this,” she said and headed for the bathroom to shower.

  Scotland, here I come.

  Thirty-Nine

  Colin, present day

  * * *

  Colin’s phone rang, and a grin broke out on his face. “Sorry, gentlemen,” he told the group of investors sitting at the table with him. “I’ve got to take this, but Francine has the matter well in hand. You can direct any further concerns to her.”

  Hopefully him saying the actual words would prevent Colin from having to make this type of trip again.

  Tetchy investors not wanting to work with his female CFO.

  Bloody idiots.

  But if this impromptu meeting didn’t work, if they continued to circumvent Francine, then they could take their money elsewhere. McGregor Enterprises wasn’t desperate for investment, and Francine was the best person for the job—male, female, or otherwise.

  “Sweetheart,” he said after he’d swiped a finger across the screen and made sure the conference room door was closed behind him.

  “I-is this a bad time?”

  Colin frowned as he strode into his office. “No.” He wanted to find the words to put her completely at ease but knew there wasn’t one perfect thing he could say. That trust would take time to be built. “Cecilia, I’m here for you,” he said. “Whenever you need.”

  Her breath rattled through the speakers. “Well, I’m glad you said that because I . . . uh . . .I—”

  “Sweetheart, what is it?”

  “I kind of flew to Scotland to surprise you,” she blurted. “But I didn’t think about where you would be. I don’t where your office is, and I’m at the airport and—”

  He cut her off. “Cecilia.”

  “Yes?” she asked, her voice small.

  “I’m sending a car to pick you up. Neil was already dropping off someone for a flight to Dubai so he can get to you sooner than I could. What terminal are you in?”

  She told him and he put her on speaker to fire off a text.

  “Okay. He’ll be there in ten minutes. Can you go wait on the curb for him?”

  He sensed her nodding, heard the sounds change as she began to move. “I’m here.”

  “Good,” he said then hesitated before asking anyway. “What’s the matter?”

  “I—uh . . . I’m sorry. It was stupid to come here.”

  Colin started packing up his briefcase. “Did I somehow give you the impression that I don’t want you here? I just wish I could have had someone waiting. I don’t like you standing out in the cold.”

  “I should have told you.”

  “Cecilia,” he said again. “I’d already called to have the jet readied for takeoff to Paris in a couple of hours.”

  “Oh,” she said softly.

  Colin decided to lay all his cards on the table. It was the only way they’d be able to keep building something healthy between them. “The truth is, I was missing you desperately. I hate being here when you’re not.” He smiled at his receptionist as he left. “I’m so, so glad you’re here.”

  She released a shuddering breath. “Really?”

  “Really,” he said and too impatient to wait for the elevator, he pounded down the stairs to where his driver waited. “Now Neil is going to take you to my flat. I’ll be there and waiting by the time you arrive from the airport.”

  “Okay.” Her next words were light. “Naked?”

  He laughed, a full bark that made his driver, Mick, send a shocked glance in his direction. Colin didn’t think he’d ever smiled at the other man, let alone laughed. He wasn’t an asshole, but he hadn’t had much to laugh about over the last few years.

  “Your flat?” Mick asked, opening the back door.

  Colin nodded. “Thanks.” To CeCe he said, “Stay on the line with me until Neil gets there.”

  “Okay,” she said then, “Did you really miss me?”

  “Sweetheart.” He smirked. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

  “Hey!”

  “Is for horses,” he said, stealing one of her lines.

  “Oh, my God,” she muttered. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

  “A certain redhead might have taught me a few American idioms.”

  She snorted.

  “And yes, I really did miss you,” he said. “Did you have enough croissants?”

  CeCe huffed out a laugh. “Never! Oh, I think he’s here. Dark hair, green eyes, and glasses. A Mark Wahlberg lookalike?”

  “Not sure who that is,” he replied. “But Neil is supposed to show you his identification.”

  “Hi, ma’am,” Colin heard. “Can I take your bag?”

  “He flashed a fancy badge,” Cecilia whispered and Colin relaxed.

  “Good. See you in thirty minutes, sweetheart.”

  “Can’t wait,” she murmured before clicking off.

  And Colin knew he had the biggest, dopiest smile ever on his face, but he found he didn’t give a damn.

  Then his phone rang again.

  “Sweetheart,” he began. “It’s only—”

  His mother’s voice was shrill as it screamed through the speakers. “Colin Douglas McGregor, what have you done?”

  Fury filled his every cell.

  After everything, every-bloody-thing, his mother and sister had done, this was her first reaction to his request?

  Fucking hell.

  There would be no more playing nice.

  His lips twisted into a smile that must have been more feral than kind. “Mother,” he said. “So good to hear from you. Cecilia and I will be over for brunch tomorrow.” A pause. “That should give you plenty of time to pack.”

  “You—”

  “Great,” he interrupted. “I’ll see you then.”

  Colin hung up the phone, shoving her from his mind, and asked Mick to stop the car for a moment. He cleaned out a bakery of their croissants—not French, but they did look damned good—and then picked up a bouquet of yellow daffodils.

  See? He’d listened and learned.

  Now was his chance to prove that to the woman he loved.

  Forty

  Cecilia, present day

  * * *

  She smiled and stroked a finger down one of the yellow petals of the daffodils Colin had surprised her with. “Thank you for the flowers.”

  He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d even noticed them, given the way you launched yourself at me when I opened the door.”

  “You grabbed me.”

  A chuckle on her spine then a sharp nip on her cheek . . . the lower one.

  “Colin!”

  “Mmm.” His tongue darted out to soothe the sting. “I really liked your surprise.”

  She played innocent. “Me flying in?”

  “Not that one.”

  “The bottle of wine?”

  He kissed over the rounded curve of her butt, drifting slowly down and inward. “Nope.”

  “The cheese—” He licked and she broke off on a gasp.

  “Uh-uh.” Another lick. Calloused fingers spreading her legs a little wider.

  “My lingerie?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He pressed an open mouth kiss to her clit and she jumped, then sighed as his fingers joined the party, showing just how much he’d enjoyed the sheer lacy garter belt and bra set.

  It had been a gift from the girls and it matched her eyes perfectly. It also enhanced certain other parts of her anatomy.

  She�
�d sent them a mental thank you when Colin’s eyes had nearly popped out of his head.

  Colin licked her again and any thoughts of lingerie faded from her mind. No, all thoughts faded. Her brain was hazed with the desire for more. For faster. For again, right there.

  “Oh God, please do that again,” she moaned when his tongue executed some twisting movement that nearly toppled her over the edge.

  And he did, but thank everything that was holy, he did it again. And again. And then once more. Until she was hurtled into space and pleasure coursed through every cell of her body.

  “You’re really fucking good at that,” she said, once she’d managed to regain one half of a wit.

  He grinned, like a cat that had gotten into the cream.

  And he had gotten the cream, she thought with an inner cackle that would have made Bec proud.

  “Give me five minutes and I’ll be smiling that way at you.”

  Colin crawled up the bed, hauling her into his arms. “I didn’t do it because I wanted something in return.”

  “I know.” She sighed and cuddled closer, still limp and satiated but knowing that she needed to broach this subject sooner rather than later. Cecilia really wanted the black cloud that was hanging over them gone forever. “But I like doing it and”—she prepped herself for the rapid left turn in conversation she was about to throw at him—“Colin I think we need to go see your family.”

  He shuddered. “Those two topics should never be spoken about in the same sentence.”

  “I—” She shook her head, smacked him across the chest. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  A brush of his fingers across her cheek. “I know. And funny that you should bring it up, but I told my mother we were coming for brunch tomorrow.”

  “What?!”

  “Right after I sent her an official letter from my solicitor demanding that she and Lana vacate the estate within thirty days.”

  “But—”

  “They’re not going to be destitute. I’ve bought them a house.” A shrug. “It’s on the other side of the country, but it’s opulent and they’ll still receive their portions of the company’s profits.” He stopped and stared down at her. “I can’t look at them. I can’t pretend to love them after all they’ve done to you. It wasn’t right.”