“You’re missing your spa appointment.”
“Spa appointment?” I shook my head and finally faced him. “What are you doing?”
“You didn’t open the box.”
“Nope,” I replied, even though he hadn’t posed it as a question.
“I have an event this evening—”
I cut him off as realization dawned on me. “That woman last night… she was an escort.”
He’d fired her. In front of my face. I hadn’t realized that was what that was.
“She’d oppose to that title. She’s an acquaintance from my past who often accompanies me to events when I need a plus one, and in exchange, I compensate her for her time.”
“I’m not an escort.”
“I wasn’t planning on compensating you.”
“Are you serious?”
“Need I remind you, you work for me, an interesting development by the way. Reed managed to make that happen and keep it silent.”
“He’s good like that.”
“Yeah,” Nash agreed, studying me. For signs I still loved Reed, maybe? “He is.”
I eyed Nash. He looked comfortable and confident standing there, even though he stood out. That had been me once upon a time, the princess groomed for high society. Perfectly educated. Perfectly polished. Perfectly spoken. The prettiest accessory in Daddy’s arsenal. I wondered, not for the first time, if I’d helped Daddy defraud our town. Our state. The Prescotts, for goodness’ sake.
Resentment bit its way up my throat. Not at Nash. It wasn’t his fault my dad was a fraud. But it was his fault I was getting more stares than I wanted. All the eyes and attention I’d once upon a time been used to—and even welcomed—now burned my skin. I needed the attention to go away.
“If I say yes, will you go away?” I asked, not even stopping to realize how shortsighted my logic was. Attention made my skin burn, guilt crawl its way up my epidermis, and self-loathing slither beneath it. I needed it gone now. I’d deal with the consequences later.
Nash nodded once. “Yes.”
“Fine.”
Even sane people made deals with the Devil.
* * *
Nash Prescott
* * *
“You’re not very nice sometimes,” my assistant Hannah noted as she handed me a bottle of alkaline water.
“Coming from the woman who hired my brother’s best friend without consulting me.” I chugged the bottle in a few gulps and tossed it into the recycling bin, carefully avoiding my tailor’s head as he did the final fitting for the suit I’d be wearing tonight.
“I didn’t think it would be a problem.”
“Are you familiar with the term nepotism?”
She arched a perfectly threaded brow. “Only as it pertains to the employment offer you extended to your brother last week.”
Hannah had been hired for her wit. Society expected us to respect the elderly. I didn’t. Not really. I respected people for their actions and their qualities. I didn’t bother with identity politics, and she didn’t use her age as a way to force my hand. That, her loyalty, and her wit had earned my respect.
Though her title was executive assistant, Hannah functioned as my second-in-command. The person I trusted to handle my business when I couldn’t physically be in two places at once. I was still debating whether or not hiring little Emery Winthrop behind my back constituted as a violation of that trust, but I figured if there was anyone I’d want her to put above me, it’d be Reed and his wishes.
Plus, Hannah had no reason to think I’d be against it. I’d never told anyone why I hated Emery Winthrop, nor had I told anyone about that night I gave Emery Winthrop what she’d confessed last night was her first and only orgasm.
Even four years later, I was painfully aware of how young she still was—twenty-two to my thirty-four, and she got me harder than anyone I’d ever met. I lusted after her as much as I hated her. And I hated her for what she did. I was fucked up.
“You’re looking particularly satisfied and arrogant,” Hannah noted.
“I’d be ungrateful if I wasn’t satisfied after my net worth reached nine figures yesterday morning.”
It was projected to double by the end of next year. No one could have predicted the boy who lived in the servants’ quarters would grow up to be the King as the former master rotted in jail.
When Aldrich Winthrop defrauded my parents of their savings, which they—like the rest of the town—had invested in Winthrop Lumber stock, I’d been able to step in and provide for them. Hell, I gave a grateful town jobs, scholarships, and training for whichever position they wanted. In exchange, they gave me loyalty.
Loyalty I didn’t deserve.
They didn’t know what laid beneath my decision. The guilt. The despair. And the fear I’d never be able to live with myself if I didn’t fix the damage they, to this day, didn’t know I’d contributed to.
Hannah handed the tailor a check as he left. “I think I deserve a bonus in the shape of a Birkin bag.”
I buttoned the suit and adjusted my tie. “Use the company card.”
“Seriously?”
“I could say no if you really want?”
She followed me out of my penthouse and into the elevator, her mousy heels making irritating click-clack noises as I pressed the number 23. “Does your brother know you’re taking his best friend as your date to a company event?”
Judgment lined her voice, but I ignored it. A small penance when I deserved worse.
“No.”
She nodded her head once, and I knew she’d keep it to herself. We both stepped out of the elevator at the same time. Emery’s room sat near the middle of the hall, one of the smaller suites reserved for the spring break interns. Had I known she was coming, I would have given her a suite. Perhaps the one directly below my penthouse.
Hannah knocked on the door, which Emery took her sweet time answering. The emerald green gown hugged her figure, giving her curves I didn’t remember her having at eighteen. She looked lethal. Her red hair had been pulled up in an updo, and her red lipstick matched the shade of her Louboutin soles. She kept her make up light and poised, and she looked very much like the privileged princess she’d been raised to be.
Only I knew better.
The past four years had been tough on her. Reed complained about her situation every time he visited as if it were my responsibility to fix the drowning princess. He saw me as the savior.
I saved the town.
I saved our parents.
I saved him.
Only, he didn’t know the truth, and no matter how much I talked about wanting to right wrongs, I had no plans on telling my brother what I’d done. He’d never look at me the same.
“You can stop staring,” Emery quipped before turning to face Hannah. “I’m Emery. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She was right. I had been staring. She was a kid. Twenty-two. Twenty-fucking-two, Nash. Not to mention, I liked her as much as I’d like getting head from a piranha.
Hannah gave me the side eye, reached out, and shook her hand. “Hannah. I’ve heard all about you from Reed.”
My eyes narrowed at Emery’s blush. She still had a thing for my brother—even after turning me into a criminal, fucking me, fucking me over, then making out with me last night. Ego, meet blow.
Emery kept her eyes on Hannah, purposefully avoiding me. “Are you joining us tonight?”
“Sort of. I have to head to security to make sure everyone has checked in before meeting up with you both. Reed speaks so highly of you, I just wanted a chance to meet you before all the madness begins.”
“Madness?”
“It’s like Coachella for the filthy rich.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“Sex, drugs, and alcohol. Just discrete. We hold it every Spring.” Hannah nodded her goodbyes before abandoning us alone in the hallway.
“What is she talking about? I thought this was a business gala.”
I was painfully aware that I didn’t answer to her, but it’d make the night more tolerable if we weren’t at each other’s throats from the start of it. “It’s an annual shareholder event. A celebration of profits. I provide a safe location for them to let loose. Security. Food. Medics, should things get out of control. Rooms to sleep in. A closed event. One night of the year to let loose. No cameras. No reporters. No judgment. What they do is their business.”
“You were going to take that woman from the elevator.”
“Jealous?”
“Questioning your sanity, given I have no intentions of indulging in sex, drugs, nor alcohol.”
“I’d expect nothing less from the woman who hopped onto my lap without asking, twice now.”
Vibrant anger streaked across her eyes, making them practically glow with frustration. She must have known by now how I felt about her. Perhaps she was self-absorbed enough not to realize—or even remember—why, but I remembered. It was inked on my skin. Literally.
PENANCE.
Horizontal. Right above my elbow. Small but there, a reminder of the past I wanted to forget.
“What are you doing?”
Truthfully, I didn’t know. I could have easily asked anyone else to accompany me to the gala this evening. Emery Winthrop wasn’t even my type. Her hair too red, her body too tall, her limbs bordering lanky, and she looked like a vixen when I wanted someone I could trust.
Loyalty.
A word I loved to demand but sucked at giving.
So, what was I doing?
Driving head-on, top-speed into a quarantine zone, knowing full well I’d be contaminated by everything that made Emery Winthrop unforgettable. Her beauty. Her wit. And the almost reverent way she looked at me despite the way I treated her, the things she’d done to me, and the things we’ve done with each other.
“I’m trying to get through my night, but you’re an exceedingly mouthy date. Have you always been like this?”
“You’re an ass.”
“Perhaps, but at least you know what you’re getting.”
“Actually, I don’t. I don’t know anything when it comes to you. You weren’t always this mean to me.”
She was right. I’d been cocky in the past. Arrogant. Maybe even a little condescending. But I’d never been mean to her. She was my brother’s best friend. The only girl he’d ever loved beside Mom and, now, Madison.
It wasn’t my fault Emery Winthrop was the best backstabber I’d ever met.
“Are you done with this temper tantrum?” I didn’t wait for an answer as I made my way to the elevator.
She followed after me, speed walking to keep up with me, no wobble in her heels like a seasoned pro. “One hour. I’ll go for one hour, and only because I said I’d go, and I’m not a liar.”
I held back a snort, but it must have come out, because she cut me with a glare so sharp, she might as well have thrown daggers my way. We stood two feet away in the elevator and forced ourselves together once we reached the ballroom.
I didn’t really take in the decorations or the people as we made our way through the crowd. These were the wealthiest of Prescott Hotels’ shareholders, also known as the shareholders I couldn’t give a damn about. It was the people from home, the people like my parents, I cared about.
Penance.
* * *
Emery Winthrop
* * *
“You have a problem with attention,” Nash commented when I’d finally convinced myself he’d forgotten me clinging to his side like an oversized accessory. “You never used to.”
I gave him a trite smile, hardly bothering to hide my hostility. “I never used to be the offspring of a fraud, either.”
And you never used to hate me.
“You’ve always been the offspring of a fraud. Everyone just knows it now. There’s a difference.”
Unbelievable.
He couldn’t even give me a moment of self-pity. I’d talked to Reed every day for the past four years, and never once had he ever mentioned his brother hating me this much. So much for an enjoyable Spring Break internship under the radar.
Yet another partygoer gave me the side eye as he walked past. Nash cut him with a glare that sent him on his way to the opposite side of the room.
At his look, I quipped, “If you think you’re the only person in North Carolina who hates me, there’s a long line of people who’d disagree.”
With good reason. Not only had my dad defrauded them, he’d placed me on the witness stand, and I’d willingly told whatever lies Daddy had asked me to tell, trying desperately to keep my family together. Those lies got Daddy a fourth of the time he should have been sentenced to, but our family was broken anyway.
And the only person who had stood beside me through it all was Reed Prescott, even though my daddy took his parents’ entire savings. I wasn’t just a bad person. I was the worst person I knew, and I still couldn’t look Mr. and Mrs. Prescott in the eyes.
I drained the glass of champagne in my hand, even though I’d told Nash I wouldn’t drink. I guessed that made me a liar, too. When I grabbed another glass, he slipped it from my fingers and placed it onto the tray of a nearby server.
“What the hell?!” I demanded.
He led me through the hall and into a private room with his master keycard. “Drowning in alcohol isn’t a good look on anyone.”
“What happened to, ‘One night of the year to let loose. No cameras. No reporters. No judgment’?”
“That extends to my guests. Why are people staring at you like that?”
“Seriously? Did you think it was all sunshine and rainbows after the trial? Newsflash: I have a suitcase full of death threats Mama won’t let me throw away just in case something happens to me, and they need to be sent to the authorities.” I swung my head in denial. “Why do you even care?!” I waited for him to answer, and when he didn’t, I asked, “Why did you invite me tonight?”
I could see it in his eyes. It was clear he didn’t have an answer. Shaking my head, I slipped away from him, quelling the part of me that begged myself to turn around. There’d always been something about Nash Prescott. The world gravitated toward him, and I was starting to realize that I was no different.
Who was I to defy the world?
* * *
Nash Prescott
* * *
I’d been raised with Southern manners. They’d been embedded in me since birth, yet I’d never had to apologize before. I’d done some ridiculous things, let my smug ego and charm talk for me. But I’d never done anything truly awful, never done anything that possessed me to apologize to someone.
I still wasn’t sure Emery deserved one as I stood in front of her door the next morning, about to apologize. On one hand, I’d subjected her to the hostility of my party guests last night for no other reason than my illogical desire to be around her. On the other hand, her testimony four years ago had made it clear that she’d known all about her dad’s dirty dealings.
Reed still stood by her, like an obedient puppy who’d follow his master to Hell, but I couldn’t stomach it because I’d done things just as bad for her.
PENANCE.
My fist hit the door. Two loud, impatient knocks. Her groan slipped past the heavy wood, and I heard her footsteps cross the room until the door swung open, and she rubbed at her sleepy eyes. They hardened when they met mine.
“Sorry,” I offered.
She waited for me to elaborate, but I didn’t. The part of me still angry at her role in hurting my family seized my throat and refused to let me continue. Even as guilt still swam in my bloodstream, reminding me of how she’d flinched each time someone had looked at her a second too long.
She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Your mood swings are making me question your ability to run your company. Concerning, seeing as I’m an employee of Prescott Hotels for another week.”
“Good thing I never asked for your opinion.” She swung the door closed, but I stopped it with m
y foot. “That’s no way to treat your boss.”
“What do you want, Nash?” Her voice dripped with attitude, like a pussycat with long claws but no real ability to do damage.
“Easy, Tiger.” My eyes dipped to her oversized t-shirt. It hung midway down her thighs. The printed animal stared at me with her school’s name in bold green letters across her breasts.
“It’s a cougar.” She crossed her arms again, covering the cougar.
“Your nickname is still Tiger.”
She wanted to ask why. I could see it in her eyes. Instead, her voice hardened. “I’m not in the mood for filler conversation, so if you’re done here…”
“I’m not.”
She shook her head and swiped a red strand of hair out of her eyes. “What is this fixation you have with me?”
Her sass had my lips curving up, and maybe she was right. I did have mood swings when it came to her. She had something to her. Something that had hooked my brother all these years, and something that lured me in now. I didn’t know what it was, but I wanted to find out.
“I don’t know, Winthrop,”—my eyes scanned her body—“but I’m very much looking forward to finding out.”
She looked like she wanted to toss holy water in my face and see if I’d burn. Instead, she settled for slamming the door in my face, and I settled for ridding her of her fear of attention before finally forgetting about her for good.
* * *
Emery Winthrop
* * *
The thick, chunky sunglasses ate up half of my face—like the ones celebrities wore to hide from paparazzi. I looked out to the ocean from the elevated pool, which had been built into the ocean with a dock leading to the shore. Risky business, given the natural disasters North Carolina was prone to, but Prescott Hotels had spent a small fortune ensuring it would hold up to the worst of it.
I’d read about it two years ago in an architecture magazine, wrinkled from abuse at the hands of countless patients. That had been moments before I was led into an office where I had an IUD implanted despite having given up on sex after failed attempts at orgasms.
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