Crazy Nights (The Barrington Billionaires Book 3)

by Danielle Stewart

  “Never mind. Forget what I said about the floor.”

  “The floor, the bed, the pool, you pick where you like it and I’ll give it to you.” He leaned down close to her face, and she thought for a moment he’d kiss her. Instead his large hand pawed for her bag and lifted it effortlessly onto the rack for the bellhop.

  “Hey, I need that,” she snapped, feeling slighted for not getting kissed. She’d have slapped him away, but she at least wanted the opportunity to do it.

  “They bring it up. Just tip him when he gets there.” Emmitt backed away, leaving her warm body feeling suddenly cold.

  “I don’t have cash,” she muttered through her embarrassment. “I didn’t really have time to plan anything this morning. I just got on the plane.”

  “Regretting it?” he asked, and she wasn’t sure which answer he’d be more pleased with. So she said nothing, taking his chance to be smug away. But her silence didn’t accomplish that. Smug seemed to be his normal look.

  “Here,” he groaned, pulling a large wad of money from his pocket. “I think it’s about a thousand. Just give the guy five and hold on to the rest of it. I have a meeting to go to so you can get yourself lunch.”

  She took the money in her hand and was surprised by the weight of it. “I can’t take this. Trust me, anywhere I’m going to eat lunch they probably won’t even break a hundred.”

  “Then eat somewhere better.”

  “Alone?” she asked. The idea of sitting by herself at a restaurant felt completely unnatural.

  “Why not? I eat alone all the time. You can actually enjoy yourself instead of having to listen to some other person blather on about shit you don’t care about.”

  “I care about other people’s stuff; what they have to say matters to me.” She was trying desperately to hang on to the thread of herself that still made sense. Evie knew so little of the world and how she fit into it, but she did know she was kind. Even when it was hard, even when it was met with rejection, she was still kind. Emmitt was the type of man who could snuff it right out of her if she let him. She wouldn’t let him.

  “Lovely,” he said with a roll of his multi-colored and hypnotizing, beautiful eyes. “You’re one of those. So I guess you won’t be knocking on my door later tonight looking to ride me like a bronco. Good to know.”

  “I . . .” She choked on the words. “You are a pig. I had a much different impression of you when you were pretending to be my bodyguard. I actually liked you.”

  “The key word there being pretending. I was using you to get a close proximity to Jessica so I could watch her for my brother. If I’d have acted like myself, you wouldn’t have kept me around.”

  “You’re right, but it doesn’t explain why you didn’t kick me off the plane. If you’re such an ass, why am I here?”

  “Keep up, girlie. Did you miss the part where I said I thought you might come knocking on my door late at night? I like to have fun as much as the next guy. I thought maybe you’d be a nice toy. I’d like to play.”

  “Think again,” she said, folding her arms defiantly across her chest as they moved toward the elevator. “And if you think this money is in exchange for—”

  He cut her off and his teasing face fell serious. “I don’t need to pay for it, trust me. The money is just because you’re here, and you failed to plan better for yourself. My brother will get the bill with interest. It’s all the same to me.”

  They stepped on the elevator, and he pressed the buttons for their separate floors. “Wait, so that’s it? We just go our separate ways now? I’m up here doing nothing?”

  “I made suggestions for what you could be doing while you’re here. I’d keep you busy. If you didn’t like that I can’t help you. I’m sure the jet can swing back around any time for you. It could even drop you off on that farm of yours back west. I bet there’s a dude in overalls who’d love to pull on your pigtails.”

  The elevator chirped as the doors opened on the fifth floor. “Go to hell,” she blurted, angry tears spilling out. “I don’t need you or your money.” She pulled the wad back out of her pocket and threw it into the elevator just before the doors closed. Evie heard him utter the word crazy as he bent down to pick up the cash.

  Squeezing the room key tightly in her hand she began to march toward the numbers on the wall. If she could change the oil on a tractor in the dead of winter, then she could make it in Boston. How hard could it be? There was still some money in her bank account and the room was paid for through the week as long as Emmitt didn’t pull his credit card off it.

  “Your bags,” a bellhop said loudly behind her as she slid the electronic key in the door.

  “Shoot,” she said, remembering the tip she was supposed to give and the money she threw back at Emmitt. The first of what would probably be many oversights in her plan fueled by righteous indignation.

  “I don’t have cash on me,” she apologized a few times as he brought the bags in and placed them down.

  “It’s really no problem ma’am. A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t have to pay for anything. Getting to look at your . . .” he hesitated for a beat as his eyes raked over her, “smile is payment enough.”

  She grinned and laughed in that uncomfortable way that always made her feel small. A man’s lingering eyes or inappropriate turn of phrase had a way of making her confidence shrink.

  “Can I do anything else for you?” he asked, hopefully bouncing a bit on his toes.

  “No, you’ve done plenty. Sorry again about the tip.” She swallowed hard and waited nervously for him to leave.

  “I’m off work in a few hours, maybe we could get a drink in the bar downstairs,” he said, adjusting the shiny gold button on his coat. His wiry black hair stuck up in the back with a wild cowlick and his hooked nose could easily be mistaken for a beak. “You’re here alone, that’s not much fun. I bet you’re fun.”

  “Thanks but I’ll have to pass,” she said, painting her face with yet another apology. “I’m here for work and I have so much to do. I really don’t think I’ll have any down time at all.” She gave far more explanation than a man like him deserved.

  “Call down if you need anything. My name is Steve; ask for me. I can be up here in a flash.”

  “Thank you, Steve.” She smiled and sighed with relief as he closed the door behind him on his way out.

  Finally having a chance to glance around the room, she took in the opulence of it. Though the space wasn’t sprawling, the details were impeccable and luxurious. This must be costing Emmitt a fortune. Her mind spun to the worst case scenarios. What if she never saw Emmitt again on this trip, and therefore Mathew felt under no obligation to pay for her time there? What if they forward her a giant bill? Boston might not be the promised land she was hoping for. She’d be back to square one.

  As she flopped into the plush suede chair that likely cost more than she would make the rest of the month, she picked up the spa brochure and the room service menu. Let Emmitt go have his meetings and do his thing. Evie would do more than just take care of herself, she’d pamper the hell out of herself—on his dime. Because who knew when she’d ever have money for a mani-pedi again? Or a facial? Or a massage? Or chocolate-covered strawberries? Or that water with the cucumbers in it?

  She picked up the room phone and continued to add items to her list of requests for the spa. “Hello I’d like to make some appointments.”

  “Absolutely Mrs. Kalling, what can I do for you?” A man’s voice on the other end of the line said cheerfully.

  “Um, no,” she answered.

  “I’m sorry is this not Mrs. Kalling? I had the room booked by Mr. Emmitt Kalling and billed to his card. That’s my mistake.”

  “No mistake,” she said quickly. “I was speaking to someone else. I’m sorry. My husband has meetings today, and I’d like to keep busy in the spa. Can that be arranged?”

  “Absolutely, Mrs. Kalling,” the man replied happily. “We have some very special treatments this week for our eli
te customers like yourself. Are you interested in reserving a spot for any?”

  “You’ll bill it to the card on file?” she double checked to be sure.

  “That’s no problem.”

  “Then I’m very interested,” she replied through a smile.

  “I’ll get you all the information and book the appointments you need. Will there be anything else? Something from the restaurant downstairs?”

  “Yes,” she said, glancing at the menu. “How’s the lobster?”

  Chapter 5

  Emmitt was seething with anger. There was nothing he hated more than a wild goose chase. Well, maybe one thing. Being wrong. He’d gloated to his brother that he’d have more luck getting in front of the Barringtons, and so far he’d managed to get about twenty-five seconds of it. He’d strolled into the lobby of Lance Barrington’s building and lucked out by finding him standing there. But after a quick introduction it became clear Lance was not interested in using Emmitt’s services. And now someone was going to pay for wasting his time.

  It had taken a couple hours but Emmitt tracked down Dax, the original caller who told him to come to Boston.

  “Nobody wastes my time,” Emmitt boomed as he charged into Dax’s office uninvited. “You called me up here then your boy Lance tells me my services aren’t needed; which is it?”

  “Who the hell is this?” a man asked as he shot to his feet, looking ready to pounce. At first Emmitt assumed it was security but the man was wearing too nice of a suit for that.

  “I’m assuming this is Emmitt Kalling,” Dax replied with a wry smile. “His stellar manners come through as well in person as they did on the phone.” Both men were standing now, looking put out.

  “So,” Emmitt asked, tossing his hands up, “are all the Barringtons as bipolar as Lance? You told me you had a job for me up here, and Lance disagrees.”

  “We have our issues,” the other man chimed in, “but we don’t appreciate hearing about them from perfect strangers.” His hands were tucked casually into his pockets now that he seemed to think the threat was gone.

  “Asher?” Emmitt asked, recognizing him now from a picture he’d seen online. He thought about apologizing, but that wasn’t something he normally did. Why start now?

  “Dax, you want to tell me what this is about or should I call security?” Asher asked, but Emmitt could tell these men probably preferred to toss someone out on their own rather than calling security. Emmitt always enjoyed it.

  Dax sank back into his chair and gestured for Asher to do the same. “He is security. I called him to deal with something at Lance’s office. You heard about the visitor he had?”

  “No,” Asher replied looking concerned. “What visitor?”

  “A woman pretending to be his secretary came in and left a mysterious black business card.”

  “With white lettering?” Asher asked, now looking very interested in the situation and Emmitt’s presence.

  “So you know her too?” Emmitt asked with a small chuckle. “Alethea isn’t likely to cause any problems for him, if she’s the one who left the card.”

  “Yes, I know her,” Asher answered, shaking his head. “What would she want with Lance?”

  Dax shrugged. “Not sure, but when I heard I told Lance he needs to beef up his security and I’d get someone up here. Emmitt Kalling came highly recommended if you could ignore his attitude. I’m becoming a pro at that with all of you so I figured it would be a good move.”

  “Apparently Lance changed his mind,” Emmitt barked.

  “Too bad,” Asher cut in. “I’ve been telling Lance for years he needs better security. Even if this was Alethea, and she isn’t intending any trouble, he still needs an overhaul there. He’s a Barrington; he needs to protect what’s his.”

  None of this meant shit to Emmitt. He couldn’t care less at this point about Lance and Alethea or anything else these people were complaining about. But he took note of the authority with which Asher made his proclamation. “So call him. Tell him I start tomorrow if you’re so worried about his security.”

  Asher crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “You ever see those signs they have in factories that say how many days it’s been since an incident or accident?”

  “Sure,” Emmitt grunted, wondering where the hell this was going.

  “My family has made it a few months without having to dial our sign back down to zero days without a problem. Telling Lance how to run his business isn’t happening,” he said sarcastically.

  “Then I’m out of here,” Emmitt huffed. “I’ll send my bill to you, Dax, since you technically wasted my time.”

  “I didn’t say you didn’t have the job,” Asher cut back. “I said Lance shouldn’t know about it. I’ll hire you, and you do what needs to be done but stay under the radar. If you’re as good as you say you are, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “It won’t be,” Emmitt asserted. “He’ll never know I’m there.”

  “We can work out the details on payment and—”

  Emmitt cut in boldly. “I don’t want your money. I need something else.”

  “Oh?” Asher asked, looking amused. “And what’s that?”

  “My brother Mathew is the CFO of West Oil. He’d like to meet with you to discuss business. I’ll take care of Lance’s issue if you make that meeting happen.”

  “If West Oil was worth buying, I’d have acquired it already. If they had something I needed, I’d know about it. If I wanted to talk to them, I would have.”

  “Hopefully everything works out with Lance then,” Emmitt said coolly.

  “Whoever you get to do this, better be stealthy as shit because I can tell by my brief meeting with him if he finds out someone is pulling the strings he’ll flip. And also, with that big development project he has in the works, make sure there are no slimy contractors attempting to exploit any weakness in his security.”

  “You know about the project he’s working on?” Asher asked.

  “I do my research fast,” Emmitt explained. “Dax got my number for a reason. I’m the guy you need.”

  “Why would you swap your services for me to meet with your brother? That seems like a lot of work on your part.” Asher leaned back in his chair and looked skeptically at Emmitt.

  “Why would you take the risk of pissing off your family and hire me to help Lance?”

  Dax, who’d stayed quiet for the last few minutes, laughed then covered it with an awkward cough.

  Asher’s mouth turned up almost imperceptibly in a small grin. “Fine,” he gave in, “you provide me with a systematic and thorough evaluation and proposal for Lance’s security needs without him knowing you’ve been working on it, and I’ll consider making time for a brief meeting with your brother. No guarantees that I’ll care what he has to say.”

  “Then we’ll have a lot in common. I rarely want to hear what Mathew has to say. But I’m sure you’ll find it interesting. Anything my brother touches turns to gold. He’s a business genius.” Emmitt never had trouble complimenting his brother to other people. It was just something he refused to do directly to Mathew’s face.

  “I’ll expect something back to me in a couple weeks.”

  Emmitt fished his phone out of his pocket and turned to leave. “Hey, once I get all this to you how are you going to convince Lance he needs to implement my proposal without pissing him off?”

  “Easy,” Asher laughed. “I’ll make my sister tell him.”

  Chapter 6

  “What’s the latest?” Mathew asked anxiously, and Emmitt nearly hung up the phone.

  “Back off. I’ve been here for less than six hours, and you’re already on my case. I’ll call you; don’t call me.”

  “But you met with Lance?” Mathew said quickly.

  “I met with Asher,” Emmitt said confidently, loving the power that had shifted to his corner. Mathew was always the better businessman. A better son. A better brother. The levelheaded one with a solid plan. But now it was Emmitt
getting things done. Finally.

  “Already?” Mathew asked, sounding too disbelieving for Emmitt’s liking.

  “I’ve got a job to do up here. If it goes well, you’ll get your meeting with Asher. But if you fuck it up once you get in front of him, that’s on you.”

  “And if you fuck it up on your end, doing whatever job he gave you, that means what? I hit the blacklist or something.” Mathew’s pessimism was annoying but not completely misplaced when it came to Emmitt’s track record.

  “Worry about your pitch to Asher; let me worry about my job.” He pulled the phone away to hang up but heard another voice chime in.

  “How’s Evie doing?” Mathew’s girlfriend, Jessica, asked in a singsong voice. “Is she staying out of trouble?”

  “Don’t know,” Emmitt replied casually. “I gave her a thousand bucks and told her to stay out of my way.”

  “You did what?” Jessica asked, sounding furious. “You can’t send her out into a new city with that much money.”

  “I didn’t. She threw it back in my face and took off in the other direction.”

  “So she has no money?” Jessica chastised. “You can’t send her out into a new city with no money. What the hell is wrong with you? Go find her. She could be anywhere by now.”

  “What’s the big deal? She’s a grown woman.” Emmitt didn’t let the little sting of guilt grow any larger. Evie was not his responsibility. He had bigger things to deal with than her whereabouts.

  “You don’t understand. I’ve been out with her. She’s very naïve, and she’s been in a rut lately. I don’t think she should be alone. When we went to a club Mathew had to pull her down off the table she was dancing on and carry her back to my place. She was so drunk she forgot she kissed him.”

  “Evie kissed Mathew?” Emmitt said, feeling a foreign flame of jealousy spark in him.

  “It was nothing,” Mathew cut in quickly. “Jessica and I weren’t even together really. Why would you care?”