Filthy Love

by Matilda Martel

  She sits quietly and I watch her inch back to the edge of her seat. “Miss Hamilton?” My gaze grows cold.

  She scoots back. “Sorry. Did you have another question? About my work, I mean.”

  “Excuse me?” I tilt my head, feign offense and play the innocent, pretending I haven’t asked her a slew of highly inappropriate personal questions.

  There’s a knock at the door. It’s Seth. I know it’s Seth. This interview has gone past the hour mark and I assured him I’d deliver her by 12:30. Bella sits up straight and attempts to peek over her shoulder.

  I buzz my assistant. “Kim, tell Seth to go away. I’ll drop her off short...” She cuts me off.

  “He’s leaving for lunch. He wants to take Bella out with his team.”

  Before I can answer, Bella jumps in. “Mr. McCormick, thank you for this opportunity. I appreciate the time you’ve given me. I really do. But I don’t know what more information I can give you. We’ve discussed my classes, my experience and my future goals. I mentioned my move to New York, my parents, my older sister, family pets, food allergies and my favorite music. What more could we review that prevents you from letting me meet the team?”

  She’s right. I’m stalling. Ever since she walked in and failed to laugh at my polite banter and corny jokes, she’s been reeling me in on a slow line. A girl like Isabella Hamilton should be an easy mark. Normally, she’d be so easy, I wouldn’t even try, but within minutes I could tell she was different. Her body language. Her inability to hold eye contact. The pained expression on her face whenever she made a pathetic attempt to smile. It’s painfully obvious. This little girl does not find me attractive. I’m a hideous freak. A shaved yeti with better clothes. Everything about me repulses her.

  This has never happened to me before. It’s infuriating. And yet, I want to throw her across my desk, hike up her skirt and bury my face between her thighs.

  Focus, weirdo.

  “Mr. McCormick?” Her big brown eyes gaze curiously as she examines the deformed creature sitting in front of her. There’s no spark in her eyes. They’re dull. Dead. When did I crossover into the world of ugly men?

  “Fine. We’ll catch up after lunch. I’ll talk to HR and have things set up for you. Come see me when you get back.” I wave her off, angry at the world and disgusted with myself.

  “Here? To your office? Really?” She appears to shudder, as if I’ve triggered her gag reflex. I can’t bear it.

  “What did I say?” I snap, as I feel the hump on my back grow larger.

  “Okay. Okay. I’ll be back after lunch.” She gathers her things and sprints out the door.

  Jesus Christ. I turn thirty-five in two months. This had to happen eventually, but I thought with the proper diet and the right work outs, I could push it out a bit longer. Apparently, I’ve been kidding myself. I’m fucking grotesque.

  By this time next year, I’ll be as ugly as Declan.

  Four

  Bella

  Oh my goodness. What a day! I don’t know how Sophia Rinaldi carried on with her charade for twenty-six chapters, but one afternoon in that man’s presence nearly broke me to bits. As soon as Seth gave me the green light, I ran to the elevators, called Declan’s car service and jumped into the back seat before Jude tracked me down and asked me about childhood nicknames.

  I don’t get it. Was that his game? Were those his cool boy moves? No, surely not. I’m certain my indifference threw him off, but his reaction was nothing like Marcus St. James. Marcus was smooth and debonair. My billionaire is crushingly awkward and not at all what I expected. I feel cheated.

  How does this man get so much tail?

  “Can you take me to the diner on the corner, please? I’ll cross the street. Don’t make a U-turn.” I shout out to Declan’s driver who ignores my request and takes me all the way. He’s a sweetie, but all this fuss is so unnecessary. I can see why it bugs Ava so much.

  Speaking of Ava, minutes before I left for the day, the bride-to-be shot me a text to meet her at our favorite dive, Maxie’s Diner. She promised to save the dress shopping for the weekend, but that still leaves tons of other silly stuff that needs to get done fast. I believe today was invitation shopping. As much as I want to be the supportive friend, I simply have no interest in pouring through catalogs of paper and interviewing calligraphers. Where’s the romance? What’s the point?

  Who the hell is that?

  I bypass the hostess stand and head towards our usual table. Ava’s got company and the closer I get, the more obvious this glaring betrayal becomes. Black hair, perfect ponytail, cashmere sweater fringed with our grandmother’s pearls --- someone’s let the nun loose on Upper Manhattan.

  My sister, Emeline, has arrived.

  “Why didn’t you mention she was coming?” I address Ava directly, ignoring my prim sister sitting on the other side of the booth. She wasn’t due for three more precious days.

  Emeline waves like an idiot and smiles from ear to ear. She makes it so hard to be mean to her.

  Ava pats the seat next to her. “Shut your mouth. She surprised me this morning and she’s been a godsend. You should have seen her haggle for a cheaper price on the invitations.”

  Frustrated, I slink into the booth. “Cheaper prices? Your man is a filthy rich. Why are you scrimping?”

  Emi finally speaks. “She’s not scrimping, but those ladies on Fifth Avenue are ruthless. There’s no need to mark something up 500%. But we didn’t pinch pennies on quality. You should see the paper we picked out. It’s exquisite! We both cried when we found the right one.” She dabs her eye with a monogrammed handkerchief and my stomach bubbles with acid.

  How the shit are we related?

  I take a deep breath and lift the menu to shield my voice. “You cried, huh?”

  Ava giggles. “Your sister is the perfect bridal companion. She’s like a twenty-two-year-old grandmother. So patient. So sweet. No hair-pulling. No punching. No complaining she wanted to eat after thirty minutes of shopping. She gave me her undivided attention and never once made me feel guilty about falling in love.” She wrinkles her nose and sticks out her tongue.

  I growl and lift my hand to call the waitress. “Listen, Emi. I know this isn’t your thing, but I’ve got lots to dish and I can’t hold back for the sake of your virgin ears.”

  She shakes her head and clutches those pearls, the ones Nana left her and not me. “I can take it. I promise. Stop treating me like I’m a nun. I was only a novice. I never took vows and I’ve left that life behind me. Look at me. I’m in Manhattan, attending classes, starting over, having fun, and Ava thinks I may have a future as a wedding planner.” She wiggles in her seat, smiles and brings her Shirley Temple to her perfectly lined lips.

  This girl really knows how to cut loose.

  Ava elbows my rib and yanks the menu out of my hand. “Enough foreplay. I’ll bet this story isn’t half as good as you’re making it out to be. Tell us what happened. Did Jude fall for your strategy? Can Emi start planning your wedding?”

  “I said this is a work in progress and for your information, I think I threw him off balance.” I turn to give the waiter my order but instead of waiting with bated breath for me to continue, the pair of backstabbers return to an earlier conversation on Ava’s wedding vows. Nerve.

  “Hey! We’re talking about me!” I break up their pretend sister-fest by waving my hand between them. “Cease the wedding talk now.”

  Emi throws me a look of pity. “Please continue. Ava tells me you have a crush on a boy at your new work. I want to hear about it. Is he nice? Handsome?” Her innocent eyes beam with curiosity.

  Ava butts in. “She just met him for the first time. But she has a plan to reel him in. Go on. Lay it on us. Did he take the bait?” She chuckles at my expense.

  Annoyed, I take a sip of my strawberry shake and pretend I’m wounded by their cliquish behavior. It drives me crazy the way Ava looks up to Emi. She always wanted a big sister, but she may have changed her mind if she grew up with thi
s holy roller.

  Who enters a convent at nineteen? Emeline Hamilton, that’s who.

  We all assumed her religious tendencies were just a phase. Surely, she’d grow boy crazy and snap out of her strange fixation with Jesus. She’s a pretty girl. She got Daddy’s hair. Straight as a pin and no curls in sight. She’s got Mom’s sparkling blue eyes and Nana’s knockout curves. Can you believe she was minutes from hiding all those gifts under a nun’s habit and swearing off men for all eternity? For Pete’s sake, what was she thinking?

  My parents are so thrilled she left the order, they shipped her off to the big city before there was any time for second thoughts. Unfortunately, she’s landed right across the hall from me.

  “Well?” Ava slaps the table and offers everyone some of her fries. I take a few, dip them in ketchup and spill the beans.

  “For starters, I took your advice. I was a total Molly. I channeled Samantha from Sixteen Candles and treated Jude like Farmer Ted. He was livid, antagonistic and bossy. But all that changed when he spotted the disgust in my eyes. I played it subtle, but he got the message.” I take a second to make sure they’re listening. When they lean in closer, I continue.

  “Men like Jude aren’t used to being dismissed. I think I blew his mind when I didn’t fawn over him and he was relentless to change my mind. I could see the despair. I could tell I shocked him. He was desperate for affirmation.” I take a bite of my club sandwich and chase it with a sip of Ava’s water.

  “And?” She exhales with exasperation.

  “He was weird. He pried. He lingered. I hardly had time to train because he pestered me with nuisance questions and continued to hover a few feet away the rest of the afternoon. Between those blue eyes and that fucking cologne, I nearly lost my damn mind.” I tense when I remember I’m in the presence of Sister Emeline. “Sorry, Emi. We use a lot of profanity. You might as well get used to it.”

  She nods uncomfortably, shifts her eyes toward the door and sips her drink.

  Ava’s unhappy with my update. “But what does all this mean? Sure, you rattled him. He seems intrigued. I’m not sure how you follow up. Is this what happens in Billionaire Bad Boy?” She shoves a handful of fries into her mouth and waits for my reply.

  I’ve got nothing. I’m still working on part two.

  “Why would you pretend he wasn’t handsome? I thought you liked him. And what’s Billionaire Bad Boy?” Emi’s naïveté is astounding.

  “She’s playing a game. Bella’s determined to beat me to the altar or arrive soon after. Declan set this up when she helped him salvage our relationship and she’s basing her strategy on some romance novel. These are not well-laid plans.” Ava patronizes me while she fills Emi in.

  “Oh, dear. This is so complicated. I don’t know how I’m going to put myself out there.” She swipes my shake and inhales a third in one good slurp.

  “There’s no rush. You’re attending my engagement party on Friday. You’ll meet some nice men to practice on. You’ll even meet Jude.” Ava wags her eyebrows and nudges me. “He knows we’re friends, right?”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t get that far.”

  “Bella! You’re attending my party. Jude is attending my party. He’s four days from figuring it out. I suggest you fill him in!” Ava pushes me and almost knocks me out of the booth.

  “I’ll tell him this week. I don’t want him to feel obligated to be nice to me. It needs to be natural and spontaneous. Are you sure the nun is ready for a party on Park Avenue?” I grab my shake and point at my sister.

  “I’m not a nun. I never was. And I never will be.” She stiffens at the suggestion. I’ve picked a wound.

  “I have a higher calling and it involves marriage and children. I feel it in my bones. I know it’ll be hard, but I can mingle. I can meet some nice men and see where things lead. Besides, Declan’s family will be there, and I want to support Ava.” Her cheeks pink as she speaks, and I decide to lay off. She’s been through enough.

  “All right. I’ll need both your help to pick out tomorrow’s outfit. It needs to be professional, but with a dash of sexy. Emi’s clothes are way too revealing, so I may need to raid your closet again.” I lean into Ava, while Emi giggles to herself.

  Ava rolls her eyes. “Of course, you do. But you gotta move fast. Declan wants me moved into his place by Thursday night and Emi’s things arrive from Boston that morning. And we wanna hear your follow-up plan. I have a feeling you're winging this and you never wing anything. This isn’t the time to start.”

  “Who will be at this shindig on Friday? Will there be loads of women ruining my action? Is Jude bringing a date?” These are details I’ve yet to consider. My negging routine might fizzle out if there are hotter chicks hanging on his every word.

  She narrows her eyes in thought as she finishes the rest of my shake. “No. He didn’t plus one. Declan only invited family. He’s flying in Mom from Boston. We hope Dad attends, but he’s still on paid leave after their big exchange.” She uses rabbit ears to minimize the heated battle that took place in Declan’s office. I hear it was a doozy. It’s not every day you confess to your friend of over a decade you’re banging his nineteen-year-old daughter.

  “Who else? Out with it.” I whine.

  “Jude, for sure. But we expect him to be late. Their cousin, Henry. He might be nice to practice on. He’s fresh out of law school and new to the company.” She winks at Emi, then continues.

  “Their mom might make an appearance. Ian Hart, their lawyer and his wife will surely come. And their Uncle Killian flies in from Europe tonight. He’s been away the last few years and I’m eager to meet him. Declan adores him.” She calls for the check and two pairs of eyes turn to me.

  “What?” I tense.

  “Your plan? I don’t want you putting yourself out there if you’re unsure. Jude is an experienced man. Perhaps you’ve shaken his self-esteem but no doubt he’s keeping company with some tramp tonight who’s building him up again.” She hands the waitress her new black American Express card courtesy of Jude’s older brother and lectures me on taking precautions with experienced men. I don’t need her putting images of Jude and other girls in my fragile brain.

  I’ve got enough stress.

  “I’ve got to do more research before I solidify my next move. It’s hard pretending to dislike someone this hot. His beauty should embarrass him. It’s unnatural. It’s feminine. He’s bound to see through my game and once he does, this could wind up turning into something straight out of The Billionaire’s Nanny. I’ll need to reread those last chapters to see how she got her man.” I nod with confidence seconds before I feel a strong push tossing me into the aisle.

  Ava looms as Emi rushes to lift me. “You’re going to make me kill him, aren’t you?”

  Five

  Jude

  “Who the fuck is Isabella Hamilton?” I bust into my brother’s office unannounced. I want answers. I’ve worked extra hours this week. More hours than I’ve worked in years. I got a haircut, wore my best suits and came prepared with fresh material to tempt that terrible woman into my web and every day she’s left me hanging or traumatized with indifference. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she enjoys making me feel like a creep.

  “Jude! I’m so glad you’re here!” Our Uncle Killian jumps out of his seat to greet me.

  Oh fuck. I just said fuck in front of a priest.

  I give him a hug. It’s been years since I’ve seen him, but he’s always been my favorite uncle. “Sorry Uncle Kil. I didn’t mean to curse. I’m angry at Declan.”

  He smiles and pats my back. “You’re a grown man. You can do as you like. Besides, I’m not a priest anymore. I turned in my collar years ago.” His expression hints of remorse, but as always, he smiles through it.

  “How long will you be in town? Are you staying this time?” As I utter the words, my throat clenches with emotion. This is unusual. Nothing gets to me. I’m either hypersensitive from being brutalized by that girl, or I genuinely missed him
. Uncle Killian is one of the few things Declan and I wholeheartedly agree upon. Any spark of goodness living within us comes from him.

  Before he left to the seminary, he was our best friend. He was more than our uncle. He was the big brother we needed. When Dad was too busy with work and Mom too busy with her dumb society meetings, Killian made us feel important. You don’t forget that.

  Before he can answer, Declan jumps in. “He’s staying. I insist. I’m giving him Mom and Dad’s old house. You don’t want it, do you?”

  “God, no.” I cringe at the thought. I hate that house and almost every memory made within it.

  “That’s far too generous, boys. I’ve got money saved from my parent’s inheritance which Declan was kind enough to save and invest for me. I don’t need much.” He shakes his head and sighs. It’s typical. He’s never been one for extravagance. His mother’s inheritance alone would make him wealthier than Declan, but he gave most away according to his vow of poverty.

  “Nonsense. That house needs to stay in the family and neither of us want it. You said you’d like to settle down and start a family. You’ll need a house for that.” Declan embarrasses him. That’s a bit premature.

  “I’m too old to start a family. But it’ll be nice to be around your little ones and maybe sometime soon, Jude’s.” He pats my shoulder and lets Declan’s assistant lead him out of the room.

  “Get acquainted with your new office. We’ll catch up at lunch.” Declan walks him out, excited as I am to have him back in our lives, but as soon as he’s out the door, his expression darkens.

  “Bella Hamilton is Ava’s best friend. Seth tells me you won’t leave her alone. For fuck’s sake, Jude, please stop harassing the female employees. It’s creepy and it’s bad for business.” He confidently struts to his desk and sits his arrogant ass down.