by Snow, Nicole
“Darlin’, you don’t look so good. I think I’ve said enough.” Drake’s voice is a low growl.
“No! I need to know the rest. Everything, like you said.”
“You sure? You sure you can handle it? Because we both know this meeting won’t be easy. Last thing I think either of us want is me having to drag you in there–”
“Drake! I’m a grown woman. Just...tell me.” I’m trying to save face, but I really wonder.
My face has gone ash white. I see it in the quick reflection I catch in the side mirror.
He clears his throat and starts up again slowly. “After college, they moved out east to get their master’s degrees. Then, after so many years of schooling, they needed a break, so they traveled. Spent over a year gallivanting around, seeing the world’s wonders. Then another year, and another, till old Jonah quit trying to convince them to come home.”
That part, I knew. I nod, waiting for the rest.
“Until you were born. Then he made them return by cutting off the free money for their posh lifestyle. Only, a couple months in, he knew it wouldn’t work, them living with him here in Dallas. Working for him when they didn’t give a shit about the company. So, he cut a deal to keep a piece of his family and sent them on their merry way. He...fuck.”
Drake clears his throat, his blue eyes brighter, fixed on the road like a madman.
Holy hell. I’m afraid.
Scared to hear whatever’s coming next. But I have to.
“Drake...” I whisper his name.
“He made ’em sign a custody agreement. For you.”
This time, I can’t stop the gasp hitching my lungs.
“Deal was, you’d live with him every summer, every school break, and every time they went out of the country till you were old enough to have some say. They’d get their damn money. Your ma was fit to be tied, swore you’d never see Jonah again, but your dad talked sense into her. He held up their end of the deal, never tried to keep you from him. So Jonah, he held up his end, too, a generous salary for your father with a full Cadillac benefits package from North Earhart.”
I can’t even breathe. Hot, confused tears sting my eyes.
Needing air, my fingers fumble around for the window controls. But Drake beats me to it, and I’m not even ashamed when he punches the button, letting in the cool Dakota wind.
“They tried to negotiate, always wanted more, several times, but Jonah held his ground. Wouldn’t give them a penny extra unless the new crap they wanted benefited you, Bella. And just between you and me, that’s the only time I’m supposed to let you give in to them. Only when it’s for you.”
“Let me?” I can’t believe I heard him right. “You mean you’re like...my guardian or something?”
Drake nods. Too seriously to be joking. I almost die right there in my seat.
“Jonah just called it 'helper.' It fits. All for your interests, Bella. Nothing else. Jonah made me promise to stand in the way of them fucking you over.”
Hello, emotional cocktail. Today’s special is a flammable mix of confusion, hurt, fear, and nerves. Shaken to hell and back, and then touched with a match and lit on fire.
The only thing that makes me feel better is knowing I’m not alone. Even if I never, in a million years, would’ve ever asked for a freaking 'helper.'
I don’t know what to believe. Or who to trust. Or who Gramps and my parents even were now that I’ve heard this other side.
My ears are ringing. I rub them gently with my palms, slowly squeezing my head.
Each breath hurts my lungs, but at least I’m breathing. Sucking in precious oxygen through my nose, pushing it out my mouth. I lean back against the seat, still holding my head as this sucker punch disguised as news sinks in.
“That’s all I know,” he says quietly. “Plenty to take in, I know.”
I lower my hands, even though my ears keep ringing. “I think that’s plenty I should’ve known a long, long time ago.”
He looks at me, frowning. “Don’t tell me it was all new? Some, probably, but you’re telling me...fuck, everything?”
I nod, my neck feeling like a noodle.
“I didn’t know any of it.” I shake my head. “My mother’s parents, the prenup, the...the custody agreement.”
For some reason, I’m not the only one who looks shell-shocked. His chiseled face is good at hiding what he’s thinking, but I know surprise when I see it. He’s wearing it in spades.
“Jonah always said you knew about the deal...”
“Well,” I croak, a lump plugging my throat. “I didn’t.”
His jaw goes tight, and I hear him inhale, filling his lungs to capacity, swelling his massive chest until it’s almost flush with the steering wheel.
But what comes out of him is quiet, strained, a succinct one-word summary of the mess ripping through me. “Fuck.”
6
Imposter Syndrome (Drake)
Goddammit, Jonah!
You said she knew everything. Why the fuck did you lie to me?
I know it’s not Bella lying her sweet little rear off. She’s not able to lie about anything.
Right now, her face is colorless. She’s gulping at the air like a fish out of water.
I’m not sure how we begin to fix this fuckery, but I know one thing – there’s no way I can drag her into the boardroom at North Earhart like this.
Stabbing at the brakes, I pull the truck to the side of the road, shifting into park. I grab a water bottle out of my cup holder. Old habit from overseas. I hardly go anywhere without water.
I screw off the cap and pass it over. “Drink.”
At first, she’s reluctant. But I hold it there, refusing to let go, until she cups it in her small hands and lifts it to her lips.
She takes a couple good swallows, then hands the bottle back. “Thanks.”
“Try and finish it before we get to the meeting,” I say, replacing the cap and setting the bottle in the cup holder next to her knee. “Look, I’m sorry. I honestly thought you knew most of this...or at least the most important part.”
A slow sigh hisses out her lips. “I didn’t, but don’t be sorry. You just kept these secrets; you didn’t make them. Honestly, shocked or not, I’m glad I know now.”
Guilt torches my stomach. Especially when I know I’m hanging onto a secret that dwarfs every fucked up thing her family ever did.
Hell, this is almost killing her. What would it be like if she found out about that fucking proxy marriage time bomb Jonah arranged?
“Very glad,” she whispers again. “I was feeling guilty about inheriting everything, thinking my parents should’ve gotten something. I was prepared to sit down and throw them a bone.”
She chuckles bitterly. I’m dead quiet, white-knuckling the steering wheel.
“Now, it makes sense. Now, I know why I had to call Gramps so many times...why they said I should tell him how crappy my academy was, even though it wasn’t. Why they said I should tell him how bad I wanted to move, even though I didn’t.” She nods then, more to herself than me. “They played me. Used me to get their hands on more money. I’ll never understand why he kept everything a secret, but...it’s no worse than what Mom and Dad did. And you know what? Keeping them from getting their hands on a single shred of North Earhart will be that much easier now.”
Inwardly, I smile. I love how determined she sounds. Nothing like betrayal to give a person a good, swift kick in the ass and point them in the right direction.
I just wish we only had her psycho parents to worry about.
I wish like hell Molly and Gary Reed were the only ones trying to get their hands on the company.
I’m not going to be the one to tell her that, though. Not right now.
“Let’s go, Drake,” she says, staring straight ahead through the windshield. “I’m fine. More than fine. I’m ready to get this done.”
However ready she says she is, I stop and look her over.
I’ve seen enough action to know whe
n another human being’s in shock. That’s Bella Reed right now.
Tunnel vision talking. Bruised pride in the driver’s seat, mistakes guaranteed, however justified.
Talking her down won’t be easy.
If I go against her, she’ll get pissed real fast.
Shifting the truck into gear, I check for traffic, then pull onto the highway. The corporate headquarters building is on the far side of Dallas, but I doubt she’ll come around in the fifteen minutes it’ll take us to get there. When we reach the edge of town, I turn left, taking the slow way to buy us some time.
“Hey, this isn’t the way to the office, is it?” she shoots me a glare.
Shit. I assumed she didn’t know her way around town that well.
“I thought we’d drop the papers off at Sheridan’s office first. It’ll only take a second,” I say.
At least she doesn’t fight me.
I’m still pissed at Jonah. Might be for some time, even after this entire fiasco is history.
I can’t understand why the old man left me to pull the family’s skeletons out of the closet and drop them in her lap. Fuck.
Several blocks later, when I park outside the lawyer’s office, she says, “I’ll wait here.”
I grab the envelope off the back seat and head out. “Be right back.”
Entering Sheridan’s office, I nod at his secretary. “Is he in today?”
“No, Mr. Sheridan had a doctor’s appointment. Should be back in an hour or two.” She holds out a hand and eyeballs the envelope. “I can take that for you.”
I’m almost reluctant to hand it over.
No idea how much she knows and doesn’t. Sheridan must trust her, though, but trust doesn’t come so easy for me. Especially when it comes to outrageous wedding schemes in small towns.
“Wait. I need to leave a note for him,” I say.
She hands me a notepad and pen. Then she stands up and walks away from her desk.
I quickly summarize the latest.
Write that Bella hadn’t known about the prenup or the damn custody agreement on the piece of paper and then slide it in the envelope.
Back in the truck, I wish I’d sealed it, but now I’m glad I hadn’t. I lick the flap and fold it back in place, swiping so it seals.
The secretary opens the door to Sheridan’s office. “You can set it on his desk. No one but him will see it.”
“Thanks.” I walk in, plop it on his desk, then walk out.
“I’ll let him know you stopped by as soon as he returns,” she says, walking back to her desk.
I nod, thank her again, and head for the door.
“Have a good day, Mr. Larkin.”
“You, too.” I exit through the door, wondering if I’ll ever have a good day again. The peaceful days of living with Jonah on the ranch are over.
Shit, even the tension, the grief, the loneliness I carried over my old man and Angie...it seems too easy compared to this. And that’s saying something.
“That was fast,” Bella says as I climb back in the driver’s seat.
“Sheridan is at a doctor’s appointment. Didn’t get a chance to talk.”
“Yeah, no surprise. He looked like he was in a lot of pain yesterday,” she says. “I hope he gets better soon.”
I start the truck and back out onto the street.
“Do you know what happened to his back?” she asks.
“An old service injury, I guess,” I say, turning onto the road that’ll lead us to the corporate office.
“Really?” She lets out a humph. “I never realized Gramps liked to surround himself so much with Army guys.”
“Sheridan was Navy, I think, but you’re not wrong. Jonah respected discipline.”
Mission men. That’s what he’d wanted and found in everything.
From the day Bella was born, he’d clearly started this particular mission and sought out men who’d finish the job long after he was gone.
I make no comment and pull into the office parking lot. It’s the biggest and most modern building in the whole town. Probably employs at least seventy percent of the town. All the people who are very concerned what’ll happen now that Jonah Reed’s gone.
Rightfully so.
Their livelihoods depend on North Earhart Oil.
I grew up in a household like theirs, where there was always worry over what might happen if the company my father worked for went under. That never happened, but the fear was constant, like a distant storm hanging over our heads, threatening to uproot everything.
I park in the same spot as always, the one reserved for Jonah, and glance over at Bella as I turn off the key.
She’s staring straight ahead, at the building, but the color has returned to her face.
I’d half expected her to walk downstairs dressed to the hilt this morning, like she had been yesterday.
Call it fucked, lusting after her in an outfit tailored for grief, but I’m only human.
That short black dress looked damn good on her. So do the simpler jeans and plaid shirt she’s wearing today.
I wonder if she threw them on to make people believe she’s like Jonah. Whether she wants to admit it or not, she’s got a tough fucking act to follow to pull that off.
Jonah Reed spent his whole life getting his hands dirty, busting competitors’ heads, pushing the lines of what any man should do to keep his grandbaby in his life.
Bella’s been pampered since the day she was born.
Everyone who works here knows that, and so do others. They’re expecting a princess who doesn’t know a decree from a donut.
She’s smarter, I’ll give her that much. And she doesn’t need to be Jonah Reed after he’d poured his life into building the groundwork, a system that mostly runs on autopilot now.
But Jonah still made the big decisions. He had the balls and the know-how to face down real, mortal threats to his lifeblood. He spent days working on those men who really worried him, and he knew how.
Bella wouldn’t know where to start with that. So it’s something I’ll have to face without her being any bit the wiser.
“Ready?” I ask.
She’s now scanning the parking lot, shifting her gaze to me. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I open the door, climb out, and meet her at the front of my truck. She’s scanning the parked cars again. “Looking for your parents’ car?”
She nods. “It’s a rental. A white BMW.”
I give the lot a quick scan myself. “Don’t see it.”
“Me either. I’m not sure if that’s a relief or a problem.”
I can’t say for sure, either, but I do know Roger Jones and his feelings toward her old man. “Roger only called so you’d have a heads-up on their visit. He knows what Jonah wanted and agrees with those wishes. He’s a figurehead, Bella. You’re the queen.”
She smiles, but a frown forms between her brows and settles in her eyes and remains as we walk into the building.
That’s when it dawns on me. I’m not just here to protect her and make sure she doesn’t wind up screwed over by her parents, industry jackals, or even her own left hand.
If I want to help Bella Reed, I have to make her a believer in herself.
* * *
Roger Jones, a tall man with grey hair and eyes, meets us in the lobby.
He’d probably watched us pull into the parking lot. There’s a reason he wants Jonah’s wishes fulfilled. His career.
He’s got a good head on his shoulders. He’s overseen the company’s finer points for years through plenty of ups and downs. His salary might make him the second richest person in Dallas, and he damn sure wants to keep it that way.
I made a point to get to know him over the years I’ve spent with Jonah.
Out of habit, I can’t trust a man unless I know him.
Jones went to high school with Gary and Molly Reed – same class – but unlike them, he came home to Dallas after college. He used the education Jonah paid for to repay the old man’s gen
erosity.
Bella’s not the only one to benefit from Jonah’s success. There’s hardly a section of this town that hasn’t been affected by his generosity.
Hell, over half the little places on Main Street are still running as 'historic Dallas' landmarks propped up by his big, local charity foundation.
I stand back, assuming my role, as Bella and Roger greet each other and make small talk. He invites her upstairs to a conference room, and gestures toward the elevator. He already knows I’ll join them and gives me a friendly nod.
As the elevator takes us up, Bella asks Roger, “Mr. Jones, were you ever in the Army? Any branch of the military?”
“No,” he replies. “I’ve spent my whole life in Dallas, other than the few years I was at college.”
She nods.
Roger looks at me over her head. “This guy, though...let’s just say we’re all in good hands. Jonah kept him around for a reason. If I ever got in a bar fight, there’s no better backup in the whole county than Drake Larkin.”
I’m in an at-ease stance, with my hands behind my back, so I just raise a brow. Picturing easygoing, cheerful Roger getting his knuckles bloody is almost so absurd I laugh.
“That’s right,” she says. “You went to school with my parents, didn’t you?”
I hold my breath, knowing all I’d told her in the truck is still fresh in her mind. I’m praying it doesn’t set her off again. I shoot Roger a firmer brow-lift look, one that says watch what you say.
“I certainly did,” he answers carefully. “The classes were...a lot bigger in those days. Plenty more teachers now, no thanks to your grandfather’s generosity.”
Good boy. He’s playing it safe, and he’d better keep it that way.
The elevator opens, and he puts a hand over the edge, keeping the door open. “Straight ahead, at the end of the hall.”
As we walk, me following close behind, Roger rattles off the number of employees the building houses and other company related trivia.
Entering the conference room, he directs her to the large table surrounded by massive leather chairs. There’s a large three-ring binder waiting, a company portfolio, plus a few waters and coffee thermoses.