Man Feast (Bergen Brothers Book 2)

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Man Feast (Bergen Brothers Book 2) Page 18

by Krista Sandor


  “A girl could get used to this,” she said, biting back a grin as he helped her into the car.

  He bit back a grin of his own. “It’s more efficient to have the car meet the plane directly.”

  They drove north from the Executive Airport and crossed the bridge over to South Beach. Elle inhaled deeply. Early April was the perfect time of year in South Florida—not too hot and with just the right amount of humidity. She’d been used to the dry mountain air and welcomed the balmy Florida heat, heady and fragrant with jasmine.

  Art Deco buildings in pastel pinks and blues and yellows lined the boulevard, and it wasn’t long before Jasper pulled up in front of one of these iconic structures.

  “We’re here,” he said, giving her a quick kiss before the valet opened her door.

  She looked over his shoulder at the vast expanse of the ocean. “This is so thoughtful of you. All of it. The flowers. The bears. The ice cream—and now the beach.”

  “Just don’t let anyone know I’m not a hollow bunny.”

  She gazed into his steel-blue eyes. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Elle glanced at the building. This wasn’t a hotel. It was a luxury condo complex. The valet went to work collecting their luggage while a doorman greeted them as they entered a stylish lobby. Jasper led her to a bank of elevators. He swiped a black keycard across the panel and the light for the penthouse floor illuminated. And just like that, the doors opened, and they headed to the top.

  The elevator car set off for their floor just as a wave of nausea passed over her. Swaying, she braced herself on the wall and held on to Jasper’s arm.

  “Elle, are you going to be sick?” he asked, keeping her upright.

  She released a shaky breath. “I’m okay. I just need a little fresh air.”

  The elevator opened into the penthouse, and Elle went straight for the veranda that overlooked the ocean. She threw open the doors and inhaled the fresh sea air.

  Jasper joined her and rubbed soothing circles on her back. “Maybe we should stay in tonight.”

  She shook her head. He’d gone to all this trouble to plan a surprise Miami getaway. She could push through the exhaustion and the sour stomach. She’d done it plenty of times. She’d patch herself up with some Pepto Bismol, hydrate, and then she’d be as good as new. But she was all out of her stomach meds. She’d used up the last of her travel sized bottle in the Alps.

  She leaned into him. “There’s a drugstore a few blocks away. I think I’ll walk over and pick up something to help me feel better.”

  “I can have someone do that for you. The building has full concierge service,” he answered, continuing with the soothing circles.

  She rested her hand on his chest and glanced inside the penthouse at the gleaming, fully stocked bar. “Why don’t you make us some mojitos? After that flight, a little walk would do me good.”

  He tightened his grip. “I can come with you.”

  She stepped out of his embrace. “No, it’s okay. Get settled here, and I’ll be right back.”

  He frowned. “Do you think you need to see a doctor?”

  She waved him off. “It’s nothing. Probably just a bug I picked up on the road.”

  He nodded, but he didn’t look happy. “Here.” He pulled another keycard from his pocket and handed it to her. “Are you sure you know the way?”

  She patted his cheek. “You still haven’t read my books.”

  He blushed.

  “If you had, you would have known that I stayed not far from here when I wrote the Miami and Key West travel guides.”

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I almost forgot I was in the midst of a seasoned travel professional.”

  She cupped his cheek and stroked her thumb across his jawline. “I’ll be right back, and those mojitos better be ready.”

  He walked her to the elevator, and she pasted on a sweet smile. But as soon as the doors closed, she released another shaky breath.

  Jesus! This trip really took it out of her.

  The elevator doors opened to the lobby, and she steadied herself and left the complex.

  Walking down South Beach’s main drag, teeming with camera-clad tourists and cheerful beachgoers, she tried to let the tropical air settle her stomach. But by the time she made it to the store, not only was she nauseous, she was also lightheaded.

  Browsing the aisles, she picked up a bottle of Pepto then froze when she saw the pregnancy tests stacked in a neat row nearby. A wave of nausea merged with a pang of anxiety, and she swallowed past the bile in her throat.

  Her birth control pills had been in her toiletry case. The same case the bears had torn apart.

  “Oh shit,” she whispered and rested her head against the cool metal shelf.

  She hadn’t gotten a new pack. They’d gone straight from Bergen Mountain to Fell’s Peak. From there, she’d flown to California, and her lightning-fast romance with Jasper hadn’t given her any time to call her doctor or refill her prescription.

  She picked up one of the pregnancy tests, paid for the items, then went into the store’s restroom.

  Two minutes later, she knew why she’d been suffering from bouts of nausea.

  Dazed, she put the test into the bag with her stomach medication and headed back to the penthouse.

  What was she going to say to Jasper?

  She’d told him she was on the pill. And she was! She was until life raced into hyperdrive, and a night spent drinking tequila and salsa dancing with the man she’d once considered her polar opposite changed everything.

  Her stomach twisted as the gravity of the situation sunk in.

  This was bigger than Jasper’s reaction.

  This was a baby—a child.

  What would this mean for her career?

  How would this impact her financially?

  She released a tight breath. She’d go back to the penthouse and tell him—and not just about the pregnancy test. She’d tell him everything: why her car was repossessed, why her mother was asking about the trust. She’d come clean, and they’d figure it out. He cared for her, maybe even loved her. It had to be love, right?

  But an unplanned pregnancy?

  What would that mean to someone like Jasper?

  Someone who stressed personal responsibility. A man who thrived on order and routine. But he’d changed. He’d opened up. He’d pushed past his self-imposed hard limits—for a few days.

  Jesus! The entirety of their time spent physically together spanned five days. Not even a week! Yes, they’d been in touch while she traveled. Yes, he’d been sweet, and the phone sex had been thrilling, but he’d gone back to his life, his routine.

  Would they make it as a couple if they weren’t trapped by hungry bears or forced into couple’s spa trips?

  She stopped in front of the building. The doorman wasn’t there—a good thing. She needed another second to order her thoughts.

  “Elle Reynolds!” came a loud bark just as she started to open the door.

  She released the handle and looked over her shoulder to find a man she didn’t recognize. He held out his phone and started filming their exchange.

  She clutched the plastic bag and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, but I’m not able to do an interview right now.”

  He took a step closer. “Is it true that you’ve lost all your money and are now trying to bag a billionaire to fund your extravagant lifestyle?”

  Her jaw dropped. “Who the hell are you?”

  He held out another phone and played a video. Elle watched the screen and saw herself in Jasper’s arms, salsa dancing in the Fell’s Peak bar.

  That’s right! All those people had their phones out. She hadn’t even thought a video of them dancing would go viral.

  She schooled her expression. “Are you a journalist?”

  She needed to know who she was dealing with.

  A slimy smile oozed on the man’s face. “I’m from the Tattle Zombie blog.”

  Dammit! She’d heard of th
em. A loose network of so-called fact finders who specialized in creating and fabricating the worst, most salacious internet clickbait stories.

  “That’s not a credible news organization.” She turned to enter the building but reared back when Jasper appeared at the door.

  He joined her on the sidewalk, looking back and forth between her and the clickbait blogger. “I saw you from the veranda. What’s going on? Who’s this guy?”

  “You’re Jasper Bergen,” the man said, jamming his phone into Jasper’s face.

  Jasper swatted it out of the way. “Miss Reynolds and I aren’t answering any questions.”

  “Come on, man!” the guy pressed.

  Jasper narrowed his gaze and morphed into his hollow bunny facade, and a chill ran down her spine.

  He took a step toward the blogger. “If you even think about putting that phone in my face one more time, you’re going to regret it,” he answered, his tone as cold as jagged ice.

  Exhilaration glittered in the creep’s eyes. “Did you hear that! Did you hear that! Billionaire CEO Jasper Bergen just threatened me, and I’ve got it on tape!”

  Jasper took her hand. “Let’s go inside.”

  “What do you think about Elle Reynolds losing all her money in the Monty Morris scandal? I think she’s with you because she’s some gold-digger trying to cash in,” the man yapped just as Jasper opened the door.

  Jasper tensed then released her hand and faced the brazen blogger. “Get your facts straight and go peddle your lies somewhere else.”

  “You don’t know?” the man asked.

  A muscle ticked in Jasper’s jaw. “I know that this is over.” He took her hand and led her into the lobby as the man stood at the window, recording their departure.

  They entered the elevator, and as soon as the doors closed, he turned to her.

  “What the hell was that?”

  She shook her head but didn’t meet his gaze. “Some moron who thinks he’s an entertainment reporter.”

  The doors to the elevator opened, and she headed for the penthouse’s kitchen.

  It was too much. This whole situation was too much.

  She opened several cabinets looking for a glass. Despite the humidity, her throat had gone dry. She found the cupboard containing the glasses, and with a shaky hand, turned on the tap and filled the cup.

  Jasper crossed his arms. “Eleanor, talk to me.”

  She took a sip of water then set the glass and her bag from the convenience store on the counter. “With or without that guy ambushing me, I was going to tell you everything.”

  His expression hardened. “That asshole was telling the truth?”

  She leaned against the counter, needing its support. “My former money manager, Monty Morris, tricked me into investing in what they call a pump and dump scheme. I lost nearly eight million dollars.”

  His stony exterior cracked as surprise lit his face before he reverted to his muted CEO mask. “That’s why Allen recognized you at the spa. He tried to play it off, but I could tell, you two weren’t strangers. He’s the best financial fraud litigator in the city. Is he your attorney?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I saw Allen right before I ran into you in The Dalton’s parking garage. I wanted to see if he could help me recover what Monty had taken.”

  “And could he?”

  She shook her head.

  “Christ, Eleanor! Why didn’t you tell me this when your car was getting repossessed?”

  Anger edged out shame, and she lowered her voice. “Because it was none of your goddamn business.”

  His expression grew tighter. “Not my business? You’re a central figure in our rebranding efforts. And now, you’re going to be embroiled in some financial scandal. How is that not my business?”

  She felt her cheeks heat. “That’s where your mind goes first? You’re not at all concerned about me and how some shyster asshole stole almost all of my hard-earned money.”

  He looked away and shook his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised by this.”

  She blew out a frustrated breath. “Why? Because I’m so irresponsible? Because I don’t live my life in preplanned increments? That didn’t seem to bother you when you were screwing my brains out.”

  He stiffened. “How much money were you looking to get out of me?”

  “You bastard,” she bit back. “I wasn’t looking to get anything other than what I earned. You know how hard I work. And I know that your numbers have improved thanks to me.”

  He stared out the windows at the ocean. “You should have said something, Eleanor. This needed to be disclosed. You had ample opportunities to communicate this information.”

  Her vision went red. “Go fuck your ample opportunities! I’m leaving!”

  She snatched the plastic bag off the counter and the contents scattered onto the floor. The positive pregnancy test skidded to a stop between them like a landmine.

  Jasper didn’t move, his gaze laser-focused on the life-altering piece of plastic. “Is that what I think it is?”

  She picked up the test and threw it at him. “You can add that to the Elle Reynolds irresponsibility file. I’m sure it’s a mile thick by now.”

  “You said you were on the pill. I asked you specifically if we needed protection,” he replied, his tone jagged and rough.

  She threw her hands up. “You want to know what happened? The bears ate my birth control pills. The pills were in my pack that got torn to shreds. I figured it would be fine. I didn’t think a couple of missed pills would matter. And everything was moving so fast. It was like living in some alternate universe where I thought we were falling in…”

  She stopped. Christ, she loved him! But there was no way in hell she was going to tell him that. Not when he’d gone all hollow bunny.

  She started over. “Where is the man who filled my hotel rooms with flowers and sent me ice cream and teddy bears? Where is the man who said everything starts now?”

  “That man didn’t know that the everything also meant having a child,” he shot back.

  She stared at him. The tin man. The hollow bunny.

  Where was the man who had kissed her so tenderly? Who had played Dean Largecox and Jamima Sex Kitten with her?

  Gone—swallowed up by the one-dimensional caricature of a button-up, rigid CEO.

  She pushed past him and found her suitcase. “I’m leaving. This is over.”

  “We need to discuss how to address the situation.”

  She whirled around to face him. “The situation? I’m not some number on a planning forecast. This baby isn’t a situation! And just in case you believe that I’m some gold digger trying to get a piece of the Bergen fortune, rest assured, I don’t want a damn thing from you. Not one cent.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, his gaze softening. But she was past the point of letting him take back his cruel words.

  She pressed the elevator call button.

  “Elle,” he said, pain laced in the word.

  She met his gaze, and that sliver of emotion in his eyes nearly had her. But she held strong.

  “Let me tell you something, Jasper Bergen. A strong, proud woman raised me. My father was never around. And now that I’m an adult, I know that was a godsend. He didn’t want a family. His absence was a blessing.” She lifted her chin. “I don’t want your help. And I certainly don’t need it. You don’t have to do a cost-benefit analysis on me or this baby. We don’t want a damn thing from you. Go back to your spreadsheets! Let them keep you warm at night.”

  “Eleanor, I’m just trying to be pragmatic. For just one second, try to put yourself in my shoes. I am responsible for Bergen Enterprises,” he answered, a slight shake to his voice.

  She huffed an exasperated laugh. “Try thinking about this: I’m supporting myself and my mother—and I’m going to raise this baby on my own. Bergen Enterprises could cease to exist, and you’d still be sitting on a giant trust fund. You’ll never know what it’s like to have people who really count on you.”


  He stared at her but said nothing.

  She glanced out at the water—so peaceful and enduring—and steadied herself.

  She flicked her gaze back to him. “What it comes down to, Jasper, is that I can handle this—the loss of my savings, the prospect of being a parent. I will rise to the challenge. The damn shame is that you won’t. You’re scared. You can’t take the plunge, and that will forever be your Achilles’ heel.”

  Again, he watched her, lips parted, and said nothing.

  The elevator doors opened, and she stepped inside. “And as far as your responsibility to your company and your precious rebranding. You don’t get it! People don’t go to Bergen Mountain to be carted to the top of a mountain and ski down like mechanical wind-up toys. People don’t go to the spa like cars going in for an oil change. They do these things to connect. To grow. To push their limits and make the kinds of memories that can’t be boiled down into a number. Your grandparents understand that. You think I’m a liability to your business? If anyone in this room is going to sabotage the success of Bergen Enterprises, it’s you.”

  He stared at her, eyes wide, unblinking, and held her gaze.

  Another staring contest.

  Their last staring contest.

  Unwavering, she held strong until the doors shut. And then she crumpled to the ground, her hand pressed to her stomach as tears streaked her cheeks.

  “These are the first and last tears I’m going to cry for Jasper Bergen. What matters is us. He is irrelevant,” she whispered.

  The elevator doors opened to the lobby, and she pulled herself up and straightened her shoulders.

  She knew this was the way it had to be. Now, she had to convince her shattered heart to believe it, too.

  16

  Jasper

  Jasper stood, agitation prickling in his veins, and surveyed his desk. “Collin! I asked you to get me the numbers for the Bergen Lodge renovation five minutes ago!”

  His assistant ran into the office and handed him a file. “Sorry, I was on the phone with one of the contractors getting an updated bid.”

  Jasper narrowed his gaze. “That should have been done yesterday!”

  Christ! Was he the only competent person in the damn building?

 

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