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Bait: Alpha Billionaire Romance Boxed Set

Page 22

by Colleen Charles


  She was such a raging bitch. And I refused to be bullied by her.

  Never again.

  “I take it you’re back on the payroll, Jasmine, though I have no idea why. Everyone at Banks Realty hated you.” I paused and tapped my lip with my finger. “Oh wait, that’s not right. I know Grantham liked you. Or, at least he liked your mouth when it was sealed closed.”

  Jasmine’s cheeks went bright red. “You shut up and get your ass in gear, you white trash loser. The conference is about to start. If you think I’m a pain, wait until you irritate Mrs. Banks to the point she gets angry. You’ll wish you were never born.”

  “I don’t think anyone’s told you, but I’m not on the Banks payroll. You can’t tell me to do anything, Ms. St. James.” I leaned against the marble counter and folded my arms. “In fact, I’ll miss the whole conference if I want to. I might sleep here tonight, just because you told me I needed to leave.”

  That was bullshit, of course. Nolan needed me up there, and I’d go in a second, but not before I’d riled this skinny, mean tyrant. She’d made my life hell in the beginning of my career at Banks Realty just out of spite. But karma was a vicious bitch, so I didn’t have to be.

  “We good here?” I asked and smiled broadly.

  Chapter 12

  Charlie

  Jasmine threw back her head and belly laughed towards the ceiling. Not the reaction I’d anticipated. I’d really thought she’d flee with her head bowed when she found out I wasn’t re-hired in her old position.

  “Uh, is the pressure getting to you?” I asked and twirled my finger beside my temple. “I think you’ve cracked, Jasmine. You should probably take a break from work. Hell, take a sabbatical. You’re losing it.”

  “You’re so self-righteous,” Jasmine said, like the pot calling the kettle black. She folded her arms, chuckles of mirth still shaking her chest. “It’s hilarious.”

  “Sorry, I’m missing the joke on this one.”

  “You think you’ll make a name for yourself without Banks Realty. You’re Miss Independent, right? Do you really think he has feelings for you? That he isn’t using you for this project that’s been his baby for years. Are you really that stupid?”

  “My personal life is none of your business,” I replied coolly. I balled up the swatch of paper towels and tossed it into the trash, even though I wanted to shoot the soiled paper at her head.

  “Actually, your personal life is everyone’s business, thanks to Nolan’s inability to keep it in his pants.”

  “I won’t even try to pretend to understand you. You’re an enigma to me, Jasmine,” I said, raising a palm and pushing it outward in her direction. “And I don’t mean that as a compliment.”

  “Nolan picked you, dumbass,” Jasmine said. “On purpose. And you walked right toward the light like you were in some kind of retarded hypnotic trance.”

  “Of course, Nolan picked me. We’re dating. We picked each other. That’s how it works in a real relationship. Unlike a sordid little side affair.” I wasn’t usually this mean, but Jasmine brought out that side of me. “With a married man.”

  I maintained my cool with Mrs. Banks because she was Nolan’s mother and that title alone deserved respect. I’d do anything for Nolan, even suffer under the oppression of his domineering parents. Under usual circumstances, however, if someone stepped on me, I stepped back twice as hard.

  “Oh, Charlene, no,” Jasmine said, folding her arms, still blocking my path to the exit. “You’ve got it all wrong. You think that your time with Nolan happened by chance? That fate brought you here? That your hard work got you that scholarship to Harvard Law School? Who in the hell are you kidding?”

  My insides writhed, and icy fingers of fear crawled up my spine. “What are you talking about?” I asked, my tone deep and serious. She’d freaked me out now. How did she know I’d studied on a scholarship? The information wasn’t required on my resume, and I’d never mentioned it in my line of interviews with Banks. It wouldn’t even appear on a background check.

  “I helped Nolan organize that scholarship for you. He picked you from a handful of female candidates. He wanted you for his business and his bed, and Nolan Banks always gets what he wants.”

  I swallowed. My entire career, my degree, had come from Nolan? Because he’d wanted to sleep with me? He’d preened me for his business, used me and acted like I was his world. He’d lied?

  No!

  “This isn’t true,” I said. “You’re yanking my chain just so you and Mrs. Banks can get to me. You want me to leave The Grant Project. To leave Nolan. Well, you didn’t succeed with your twisted web of lies. I’m not leaving either one of them.”

  “I can show you documentation,” Jasmine replied. “Emails, messages, all aimed at getting Miss Charlene de Monaco the opportunity to attend Harvard University on the Chance Of A Lifetime scholarship. Guess who fronts the money for your chance of a lifetime, Charlene?”

  How would he have even known about me? It had to be a lie. My mind raced, and I reeled. I snaked out a hand to grasp the towel dispenser to keep from doubling over and falling to my knees, making sure none of my inner fear appeared on my face.

  “You’re scared now, aren’t you?” she smirked, cackling an evil laugh that shot straight through to my very soul. “What happened to the big brave lawyer with Nolan Banks at her side? You’re a farce. You didn’t get your degree on your own merit, you got it because a rich boy wanted to fuck you. Make a mockery of your wrong side of the tracks wasted life. How does that make you feel, Charlene?” Jasmine asked, taking a step towards me. “Do you feel used? Hurt? I want to know. I want it to eat you up inside, every day for the rest of your life.”

  “You’re sick,” I said, pissed that my voice was now trembling. With her blood-red lips and jet black hair, she didn’t even appear human. And Nolan. What was the matter with these people? What was the matter with this entire city? My world had just crumbled around my shoulders, but I still didn’t want to believe it. Refused to believe it. Because to do so would be to admit defeat.

  I veered around Jasmine as I barreled out of the bathroom, the hall spinning around me, a blur of tiles and wood and people’s faces. A few members of the press stood a couple paces down the hall, taking a break from the chatter inside before the conference started.

  Nolan peered around the door leading into the main event room.

  “There you are,” he said and smiled softly. The smile I’d fallen in love with, the smile that’d tricked me. The smile that would break me in the end if what Jasmine said was true.

  Shattered.

  “How could you?” I managed to keep my voice low. “How could you?”

  The paps at the end of the hall perked up and turned to watch the altercation. In the floor to ceiling mirror, I saw Jasmine emerge from the bathroom behind me, smirking as she smoothed her perfect bun. Never a hair out of place on her taut scalp.

  Nolan glanced from her to me. His calm façade vanished, and his face went pasty white.

  He knew.

  “I can explain.”

  I shook my head. “No. You can’t explain this away like you do everything else. You can’t explain this to me and you never will.”

  “Charlie, relax,” he said, stepping closer and lowering his voice, glancing towards the people at the end of the hall. A flash went off, and I clamped my eyes shut against the onslaught of white light. At this point, I didn’t even care if my face was splayed across every gossip rag from New York to Los Angeles.

  “Relax?” I asked. “I can’t relax, Nolan. Everyone in this state is laughing at me behind my back. I’m a phony, thanks to you. A disgusting farce. You made me what you wanted me to be, all for your own selfish agenda.” The accusations came out in wild hisses. I didn’t even recognize my own voice. Someone or something had taken over my body.

  Jasmine scoffed again, and my emotion rocketed ever skyward.

  “I won’t do it,” I said suddenly. “I won’t be what you want me to be. No
t ever again.” Was that why no other company, no other firm, would even grant me a first interview? Was he the reason for my stalled legal career?

  “Please, you have to give me a chance to explain.” His voice came out in an overwrought, desperate whine I’d never heard before. Even though it strained under the extremes of emotion, I didn’t stop to consider his feelings at all. Because I didn’t care.

  And just like that, all of my anger sapped out. I looked at the paps, at Jasmine, and finally at the man I loved.

  Had loved.

  “No. I’ve been more tolerant than you deserve. You’ve run out of chances, Nolan Banks. It’s over.”

  Chapter 13

  Charlie

  I walked out of the Starbucks, holding a cup with “Julie” scrawled on the side. Even my favorite barista seemed to have forgotten my name. I took a sip and let the coffee sear a path down my throat. Two days had passed since I’d discovered Nolan’s secret. I’d only thought I’d been hurt before. But this… this turned my entire adult life into a desperate sham.

  It should’ve been a living hell, but it wasn’t. I was numb inside. I refused to let this destroy me. My dad and I had been through worse, and I was made of sterner stuff than Nolan Banks could ever imagine. He’d picked the wrong girl to screw. If it took me until the end of my days, I’d get my revenge.

  I hadn’t called my father, though he’d tried me a couple times. I wasn’t ready to explain anything to him without breaking down in the ugly cry that would involve him threatening to buy a plane ticket that he couldn’t afford.

  The New York Times had done a feature on Nolan, mentioning our break-up yet again. The New York Fucking Times! I would’ve been thrilled if the circumstances had been different. A write up in that famous paper could make a young attorney’s career.

  I walked to the edge of the sidewalk and whistled for a taxi.

  That whistle attracted a man in a stained trench coat instead of a cab. He walked up to me, grinning as if I’d called him over like an old friend.

  “You’re Charlene de Monaco,” he said. “You’re a local celebrity.”

  “What’s it to you?” I asked. Hostility was my automatic response these days. I didn’t trust anyone. All the innocence in my soul had been stripped bare, replaced by a prickly layer of defensive cynicism.

  “Smile, sucker,” the man replied before raising his iPhone and snapping pictures. I turned on my heel and walked off, shutting my eyes for the briefest moment to block out the nastiness of it all. I slammed into something hard and stumbled back. My coffee dropped to the concrete, and the hot contents splattered my shoes.

  “Clumsy too? I would never have guessed,” a woman said. I recognized the passive aggressive rancor immediately.

  I would not cry.

  I looked up and sighed as I eyed Nolan’s Valentino-clad mother. Her Chanel wafted on the crisp breeze and tickled my nostrils. A fur coat slung loosely on her elegant shoulders as she tapped a platform pump on the concrete sidewalk.

  Her limo door was open, and the interior sat empty. The car hummed, exhaust pumping out white smoke behind her, providing her perfectly coifed head with a toxic halo of fumes.

  “I would offer you a ride, but I don’t want to,” Anne said, a thin smile tightening her lips.

  “Gracious as always, I see. I’ve heard new money bitches slip in their hospitality too often. You should watch that.” All respect had promptly flown out of the window. How much of Nolan’s plan had Anne known about? Some of it? All of it? The Banks family had been nothing but a thorn in my side since the moment I’d interviewed at Banks Realty. There was only one piece missing.

  Why?

  “Your time with my family has finally come to an end, it seems. Thank goodness,” she said and tinkled a laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, I always knew Nolan’s infatuation with you would peter out, so to speak, but I never suspected it would take this long. That’s the part that’s still so surprising. So unlike him.”

  I desperately wanted to ask her how Nolan had even known about me in the first place, but I did have a smidgeon of dignity left. A tiny shred that I’d hold close to my heart and carry with me while I endured the second shattering of my heart.

  “Was there something in particular that you wanted, Mrs. Banks?” I asked, stepping back from the pool of spreading coffee. “I do have important matters to attend to.”

  “Such a clever girl. But that’s all you have now,” Anne said, her smile never faltering. “I’m sure you’ll land back on your feet. Like a feral cat.”

  “I’m shattered by your observation,” I replied in deeply sarcastic tones. Suddenly, I was bone tired from deflecting missiles from this woman. I’d run out of armor to defend myself.

  Anne moved in close, forcing me to look into those shrewd eyes. “I know you stole from the business, Charlene. I know all about your little sideswipes. Walk away now. Never talk to Nolan again and I won’t destroy you. And your father.”

  “What the hell?” I stepped back, revolted by the accusation. “That’s a lie, and you know it. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize Banks Realty. I gave it my heart and soul every day I worked there.”

  “Lies,” Anne said, tossing her head. Prior to today, Nolan’s mother had intimidated me with her stylish exterior and sophisticated demeanor. Now, she just seemed sad. Like a wailing cat wrapped in a designer label. Take away the trappings of money and she was simply a middle-aged mean girl. “We all know it was you. Even Nolan knows. I hated to break the heart of my only child to discover his favorite’s guilt. But, there really wasn’t any way around it.”

  “I don’t care what you think,” I replied. And I didn’t. But I did care what Nolan thought in spite of everything that had happened. I wasn’t sure how or why my personal ethics kept getting called into question. “You and your son are the liars in this scenario, and I refuse to get drawn into your drama even a second longer. I just want to move on with my life.”

  “Lie all you want, Charlene. The world will know about what you’ve done. You’ll never work in New York again. You’ll be disbarred.”

  I turned and shuffled off because her ridiculous accusations didn’t warrant a reply. Fatigue had settled so deep into my bones that it hurt to lift my legs the few inches off the ground they needed to walk away. Honestly, I’d never been angry until I’d taken the job at Banks. Mrs. Banks had just made me see red. A violent, blazing scarlet that launched my blood pressure to a dangerous level. Call me a slut or stupid, blame me for ruining The Grant Project but never, ever accuse me of stealing. My dad and I could have stolen food or basic necessities many times over the years. But we didn’t. We sacrificed for the sake of our beliefs with rumbling stomachs and dirty fingers.

  I clenched my fists and strode back towards the Starbucks.

  “Did you get that?” Anne murmured.

  Her whispered voice tickled my ears, and I stopped, standing rigidly in the alcove of a townhouse a few feet away. I glanced back and felt as if a tub of ice swished from the top of my crown to the tips of my toes. Like in one of those bucket challenges for ALS.

  Anne stood with the pedestrian that had snapped the photo of me with his iPhone. She held out a wad of cash and pressed it into the man’s hand.

  “Oh, yeah,” he replied, “I got it all. Anything you want, Mrs. Banks. I’m here for you.”

  Anne nodded, lips pursed, then disappeared into her limousine. The man hurried off in the opposite direction, tucking the money into his top pocket. I stared after him, heart hammering against my ribs. Anne had framed me. This was a setup. The frustration coursed through my body harder than a downed power line. If people believed I’d stolen from Banks Realty, I would have to slink home with my tail between my legs. Why did the uber rich feel they could buy anything they wanted? Even an innocent person’s guilt.

  The limousine sped off, leaving me in a cloud of smoke and bitter tears. At last, I let the pain slide through the thin veneer of calm. I inhaled a ragged breath and then coul
dn’t stop them. Couldn’t hold them back another second. Tears streamed down my cheeks, burning tracks on my skin.

  Chapter 14

  Nolan

  “Have you seen it yet?” Chase asked, walking through the front door with a newspaper tucked under one arm. “Because, dude, I don’t want to be the one to break it to you, but man, you can’t make this shit up.”

  He thrust the newspaper at me, and I stared at it as if it had sprouted horns and a cloven hoof. A veritable Satan spewing flames of media vomit on the page. Even though my hand reached out to take the offering, my glazed over eyes didn’t read the headline. I’d spent the past two days locked in my apartment, trying to forget what happened.

  I’d lost her for good this time. My Charlie.

  I stared up at my best friend and inhaled, steeling myself for what I knew was coming next. “What is this?”

  “Shit, you don’t already know?” Chase scoffed and thrust the rag into my outstretched hand. “Just read it because it’s not something that can be summarized in a few sentences. You look like hell, Nolan. While you’re reading, I’ll make you an espresso. A double.”

  I ignored him, and he strode past me, toward the kitchen and the under cabinet espresso machine I rarely used, preferring to hit Starbucks or a local coffee shop on my way to work. But the chrome machine had looked good in the design plan, so I’d bought it anyway. Just another toy in a long line of them over the years that now just looked trite and desperate even to my own eyes.

  I opened the paper and swallowed. Instead of saliva, it felt like construction nails trailing down the back of my gritty throat. Charlie’s face was splashed across the page, along with an article which spoke of her masterminding an extortion plot on Banks Realty. It was all framed as conjecture and infighting between Charlie and my mother. And in that party of two, only one was trustworthy, and my money was on Charlie. But the facts… they were damning.

  My heart shattered as my stomach plummeted to my feet. She’d won. My controlling, demanding and selfish mother had knocked it out of the park. Any shot I’d had at approaching Charlie and trying to talk to her about the pretenses she’d been hired under had flown out the window thanks to Mother Dearest. She’d just sunk to a new low. I wanted to hit Travelocity and buy a one-way ticket to Bali. Escaping New York City might be the only way I could escape the pressure of being under her thumb. I crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it into the corner.

 

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