The Billionaire's Last Fling (Scandal, Inc Book 5)

by Avery James

  “Why not just hire a few interns to repost whatever the Times and Politico report with some snarky spin? Why offer me more than I’m worth?” she asked. He barely registered the words as she spoke. This wasn’t exactly the impression he’d wanted to make.

  “Hm?” he asked before adding, “Let’s just say I have bigger plans. If you excuse me, there’s something I have to go do. Take the rest of the weekend, think about it. Give me an answer on Monday. It’s a good offer. I hope you take it. If you do, we’ll work out the details. If not, best of luck.” He stood up and offered his hand to Erin. He could tell she was thrown off by his abrupt ending of the meeting. Good. Keep her on her feet. It’ll make her more likely to sign.

  Nolan was good at reading people. It came naturally to him. He was usually good at telling what they’d do next, not in a grand life sense, but in day to day conversations and decisions, people were generally predictable. The fact that he was famous made them even more so. They’d either fawn over him, or they’d react against his fame. In a way, it simplified things. It placed another barrier between him and the world.

  That was one of the things that had drawn him to Abby. She had no idea who he was. Even if she had, he doubted she’d care. She just didn’t seem the type. She’d consistently surprised him the night before, and he’d loved every second of it. As he rode the elevator back up to his suite, he thought of what to text Abby. He wanted to strike the right balance of teasing and flirtation. If he had one night left in the city, he wanted to spend it with her. Based on the way things had gone the night before, he was guessing she felt the same way, too.

  Once he was back in the room, Nolan pulled out his phone. He had three missed calls from his assistant in New York. He’d deal with all of that on Monday. He headed over to the desk, but the note wasn’t there. The cleaning lady had probably placed it in a drawer or moved it somewhere by accident. Nolan looked around, but he couldn’t find it.

  The door to the balcony was still slightly open from when he’d stepped out earlier that morning. Nolan closed the door. Maybe the wind blew it off the desk, he thought. He checked under the desk, behind it, under the bed. He looked everywhere.

  Damn it. How the hell was he supposed to find her knowing only her first name and the way her body fit against his? It wasn’t like there was a directory of fantastic kissers or a book of women who didn’t give a damn about his celebrity.

  No more than a minute had passed before he resolved to find her. How many women named Abby could there be in the District of Columbia? A quick search revealed way too many to sift through. Where the hell would I even start looking? he thought. Maybe the bartender would know something, or someone else from the bar. It was too bad he couldn’t just ask the guy whose tryst he’d broken up, the senator’s husband. Nolan froze as he thought that over again. That was it. He knew how to find her. He just needed a little help. He called his assistant. “Hey, I need you to do a favor for me. I need headshots for every female senator and their spouses as soon as possible.” His assistant said she’d get on it without even questioning why. Nolan knew how he’d find Abby again. It was simple. All he had to do was find her senator.

  ***

  When she made it into the office on Monday morning, Abby decided it was time for the next step. She was going to do the one thing she'd vowed never to do. She was going to let her friend Maggie set her up on a blind date. "I think I'm ready," Abby said as she stepped into Maggie’s office.

  "Ready for what?" Maggie asked. She was wearing a ridiculously baggy sweater and drinking something bright green through a clear straw.

  "Hold on," Abby said. "What in the world are you drinking?" It looked like mashed up lettuce.

  "It's a kale smoothie," Maggie said. "It's packed with antioxidants and nutrients. You should try it." She held it out and waved it in Abby’s general direction. “Is this what you’re ready for?”

  "I know what a smoothie is," Abby replied. "I mean why aren't you drinking coffee?”

  “I thought I’d have this instead.”

  “Instead? What’s going on?” She was starting to worry that her best friend had been replaced by an impostor. “Ms. I-can't-get-by-without-four-cups-a-day is suddenly smoothie only? First it was skipping drinks. Now it's no coffee. Did you join a cult?"

  Maggie blushed. "I've wanted to tell you so badly, but Harry and I promised we'd wait until the end of the month.”

  Abby leaned in closer. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

  Maggie placed her smoothie down and took a deep breath. “Close the door,” she said. Abby carefully closed the door behind her and turned her full attention to her friend. "If you think I'm saying I'm pregnant, then yes,” Maggie continued, “Harry and I are having a baby."

  "You are?!" Abby felt like jumping in the air. She jumped across the room and bear hugged Abby before pulling back completely. “I’m so sorry. Is that too much?”

  “The baby can handle a hug,” Maggie said. She was grinning ear-to-ear. She had barely finished the sentence before Abby was hugging her again.

  “I’m so excited for you!” Abby said. It was true. All of her worries about her own personal life were crowded out by her happiness for her friend. "That explains everything. I'm so happy for you. This is incredible! Tell me everything right now. Can you really not drink coffee for nine months?" She took a seat in front of Maggie’s desk.

  "I'm nearly two months along. So seven months to go. We're not going to find out the sex, and no, you cannot name him or her."

  "What if I draw up a list?" Abby asked.

  "I'll look it over," Maggie replied.

  "This is incredible. I'm so happy for you. You and Harry are just so…" Abby raised her hand as she searched for the word. "Everything about your relationship is perfect."

  "I don't know," Maggie said. "I'm starting to have pregnancy cravings, and I think I'm going to wear him out with trips to the store. I don’t know how I’m going to make it seven more months without coffee, or brie or red wine.”

  “You poor thing, having a child with your beautiful and charming billionaire husband.”

  “Seven months,” Maggie said.

  “Maybe you can drink decaf,” Abby suggested.

  “You know it isn’t the same.” Maggie was right. It wasn’t. “I know I’m blessed, but the caffeine withdrawal was brutal.”

  “Baggy clothing aside, you don’t look pregnant at all. In fact, you look skinnier.”

  “Right now, the baby is about the size of a peanut,” Maggie said.

  “You have your first nickname for the kid: Peanut. I can’t believe you’re pregnant. You must be so excited. I know I’m so excited. Gah! I’m so happy for you.”

  "Harry is convinced it's going to be a girl," she said. "I'm not so sure. Look, I haven't told anyone else yet, so I need you to keep it a secret for a few more days, ok?"

  Abby nodded. "You know your secret's safe with me," she said. “But if I start talking about Peanut, you’ll know what I mean.”

  "So what are you ready for? You started saying but then we got sidetracked, " Maggie asked as she picked her smoothie back up and started chewing on the straw.

  "Oh, it’s nothing compared to your news,” Abby said. “I think I'm ready for an actual boyfriend, the whole dull and dependable thing," Abby said. She waved her hands as she spoke, as if she were shooing away any illusions she had about romance.

  "Really?" Maggie asked. "Harry has a friend we were saying would be perfect for you. What changed your mind?"

  "I decided to go out on top," Abby said. She kicked her heels up on the desk. "I had the one night stand to end one night stands."

  "Wait, the guy from the bar? The one who almost blew everything for you? The twins told me about him."

  Abby shook her head. "His name was Nolan. I don't know what came over me. He was handsome and charming, and very, very good in bed. He was funny too. Usually funny guys are awful in bed. You should have heard his accent. He could have read m
e the phonebook and it would have been the sexiest date I've had in a long time."

  "What kind of accent?"

  "It was kind of Scottish, kind of English, but not quite either, and his voice was smoky and smooth. Ok, I need to change the subject before I try to look him up."

  "So why do you need me to set you up with someone?" Maggie asked.

  "He was a complete player, and you know how that game goes," Abby said. "He's probably already been with two women since me. I did leave my number, though. I didn’t really expect him to call.” She paused for a second, then added, “It was the best sex I've ever had."

  Maggie blushed again. She'd never been as adventurous or as open as Abby. She’d always been the by the book type. "Actually, I have his picture," Abby said. "I took it at the start of the night." She pulled out her phone and found the picture. She showed it to Maggie.

  Maggie laughed. "You had me going there for a minute.”

  "What do you mean."

  "You met Nolan Ross?"

  "You know who he is?" Abby asked.

  Maggie nodded vigorously. "Everyone knows who he is. Well, he's really famous in England. He used to date a certain duchess's sister before dumping her for I think it was a string of models. He was tabloid fodder for years."

  "You've got to be kidding me," Abby said. "Like I said: player."

  "How much did you tell him?" Maggie added, with a twinge of panic in her voice.

  "Not much, why?" Abby asked.

  "He's a media mogul," Maggie said. “He got so fed up with the tabloids covering him that he started his own. Then he used that money to start an online media company. They were valued last year at nearly two billion dollars. You’re saying you never heard of him?”

  “British celebs aren’t exactly in my wheelhouse,” Abby replied. “You want to know the name of every rep from Alabama or California? I’m your girl. You want to know who was on last season of the British Bachelor? I’ve got nothing for you.”

  Maggie laughed, sat down her computer, and started searching for something. “Have you never read Muckracker?”

  “The website? It’s all celebrity and gossip stuff.”

  “Yeah, it and a half dozen other websites have made him rich beyond belief. Huh,” she said. “That’s interesting.” She started hammering at the keys and clicking away until she suddenly just stopped.

  “Everything ok?” Abby asked.

  “There are rumblings online that he’s buying up political blogs. Supposedly he bought Beltway Beat and two other sites last week.”

  "He owns Beltway Beat?” Abby asked. "The ones who ran that hit piece on our last client? So you're saying I'm completely and utterly screwed?”

  Maggie nodded. “Unless he likes you.”

  “That’s not funny,” Abby said. "This could be really bad. I told him what I was doing. I didn't give him any names or details, but I mean, this could be bad."

  "I'm sure you're overreacting," Maggie said.

  "Do you think so?" Abby asked.

  "No, you're right, this could be bad."

  "Should I get in touch with him somehow? If this isn't a thing, I don't want to risk making it into one. After all, I don't think he'll want to make a story of himself."

  "So sit tight?" Maggie said. "I'm sure it’ll all blow over. Maybe just put him out of your mind for a little bit."

  "Might be harder said than done," Abby admitted. She sighed and let her shoulders slump. "It was really, really good," she said.

  "You could always forget about this and just 'run into him' again," Maggie said. She was chewing on the straw of her smoothie as she mulled Abby's options over. "I mean, the whole player thing worked out for me," she said, rubbing her hand on her stomach.

  "Yeah, but Harry wasn't in a position to make your professional life hell."

  "He basically kidnapped me to Cuba," Maggie said.

  "I thought it was romantic," Abby replied.

  Maggie cracked a smile. "So did I," she said. "So what are you going to do?"

  "The only thing I can do," Abby said. "Nothing. There's no way things could possibly work between us."

  "How about Harry and I set you up on a date?" Maggie said. "You can see what's out there with a guy who's interested in more than a night of hot sex."

  "You mean like two nights of hot sex?" Abby asked. "I don't know if I'm ready for that level of commitment."

  Maggie laughed and shook her head.

  Just as Abby was starting to think that maybe everything would be fine, her phone started buzzing.

  “Maybe it’s him,” Maggie said. She knew as well as Abby did that they both received about a hundred calls a day. It could have been anyone.

  Abby looked down at her phone and saw the only number she didn’t want to see. Shit, she thought. It’s probably just a coincidence, she tried to convince herself. Either way, she had to answer. She waved a hand at Maggie and pressed to accept the call. In her calmest and cheeriest tone, she said, “Good morning, Senator, what can I do for you?”

  “Hi Ms. Hardigan, this is Grace from Senator Heck’s office. She told me to tell you to come in as soon as possible.”

  “Can I ask what this is in regard to?” Abby asked.

  “She said you’d know what it’s about.”

  “Grace, do you have any idea?”

  “I think it has something to do with Nolan Ross being in the office.”

  “He’s WHAT?” Abby asked as she jumped up out of her seat. “I’ll be right there.”

  Chapter 5

  Although Senator Ruth Heck stood barely above five feet in heels, she was a towering figure in the Senate. The wife of a former governor, she’d clawed her way to prominence after his fall from grace and established herself as one of the strongest voices in the entire government. The real trick of it was that somehow, during two terms in the House of Representatives and two more in the Senate, she’d managed to maintain the squeaky-clean image of a mom from the Midwest. She had an affinity for dated sweaters and cardigans, and a complete inability to swear in public. But beneath her folksy charm and rosy, almost grandmotherly façade, she was a ruthless political operator, one who knew how to lean and leverage every last bit of power she had available to achieve her ends, all while coming across as the sweet little old lady next door. It was well known that her enemies often didn’t know she was taking them down until after she’d stuck the metaphorical knife in their chests.

  There was a story, which Abby had been unable to verify, that the senator delighted in this gulf between her public perception and private ruthlessness so much that she’d once led a duplicitous staffer to believe he was being promoted only to fire him in a humiliating manner in front of his family and colleagues for betraying her trust. Whether or not the story was true, it had become something of legend in her office, and seemed to keep her staffers in line at all times. Wondering whether it was true missed the point. Either way, the diminutive senator from Illinois had a Machiavellian streak hidden just below the surface, one which Abby pondered was she arrived to the senator’s reception desk.

  There was another story about her, one which no one could prove or disprove but which everyone believed without a doubt. When the senator’s husband had been caught cheating on her with a particularly attractive lobbyist and lied about it under oath, Ruth had publicly forgiven him and asked his constituents to do the same. But the story went that she and her husband never reconciled, and that she used his political downfall to raise herself up, demanding his full support for her political aspirations in exchange for her continued support of their marriage. Then, once she’d solidified her power base beyond anything her husband could have imagined, she pushed him aside as retribution for his betrayal.

  This is a roundabout way of saying that when Senator Heck smiled cheerfully and called Abby into her office, Abby wasn’t sure whether she was about to be congratulated or crucified. “Abby, how wonderful to see you!” the senator exclaimed as Abby walked into her office. “I hope you d
idn’t rush over here on my account. Would you be a dear and close the door?” Abby closed the door behind her and tried to brace herself for whatever was coming. Maybe there was a chance everything would work out. “Nolan Ross sends his regards.” Abby did her best to hide her horror. This was going to be bad. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  Abby did as she was told and sat down in one of the two chairs across from the senator’s desk. The senator took her seat, leaned over to one of the drawers, and started rooting around inside. “My husband, for all his faults, has done a great deal of good for a large number of people, but sometimes I think the finest thing he ever did was let me into the secret of staying sane in elected office.” Abby watched as the senator finally found whatever it was she was looking for and started to smile. Then she pulled the object out of the drawer and placed it on the desk. It was a bottle of liquor, half empty. Abby swallowed hard and tried not to look for the door. “This bottle, he gave me on our twenty-fifth anniversary.”

  Then the senator grabbed two glasses and started to pour. Abby couldn’t help but note that it was barely ten thirty in the morning as the senator slid one of the glasses over to her. “It was for special occasions. We sat right here in this office and drank from this bottle after my last election. It’s also for times when you just don’t know what else to do. I just had the most interesting discussion with a young man, Nolan Ross. I think you know him. It appears he had a run-in with my husband and one of his mistresses this weekend. And for the life of me, I could not figure out why this didn’t even merit mention.”

  “I didn’t know what to say,” Abby replied as she wondered if her career was about to come to a sudden and premature stop.

  “I’m not paying you to be modest,” the senator said.

  “Modest?” Abby asked. She was starting to wonder what exactly Nolan had said.

  “He told me everything,” the senator said.

  “Everything?” Abby asked. Even she wasn’t sure how some of the things they’d done could be put into words, but she guessed that wasn’t what Ruth was talking about. “What exactly was his version of events?”