Blake ran up the steps so fast he almost tripped, flying out into the street. The day had turned into evening, but there was still enough light for people to see him and the last thing he wanted was to be recognized again. He pulled up his soaking wet hood, fumbling his sunglasses on as he walked swiftly away from the bar.
He was in shock at what had happened. He was drenched in foul-smelling water, but that wasn’t the worst part. It had been the barmaid’s face when she’d thrown the drink over him. She’d looked furious. She’d looked as if she hated him.
And she’d been filming it, too. Blake was sure of it.
He cursed himself. How could he have been such an idiot? He’d known something like this was going to happen, he’d told himself not to leave the apartment. And it was all for what? So he could return a notebook to a woman he had just met?
No, it wasn’t just that. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but Ellie was more than just a job, an errand, a good deed. When he’d first met her, by the river, he’d felt something special. And now, after just half an hour in a bar, he knew for sure. There was a powerful connection between them.
But was that worth more than his business? Was it worth more than the company he’d spent his life building?
He crossed the street, seeing a cab coming the other way and flagging it down. It must have taken one look at his ruined clothes and decided he was penniless, because it roared away almost immediately. He had more luck with the second one, climbing inside and pulling out a hundred-dollar bill.
“3033 Wiltshire,” he said. “You can keep it if you don’t ask any questions.”
The cab driver’s eyes widened, and he took the money without a word. Only when they were accelerating down the street did Blake let himself relax. But it didn’t last long. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, seeing David’s name there.
Had the news reached the board already?
He thought about not answering, but this was no time to be an ostrich.
“I know,” he said, answering the call. “Don’t say it.”
“Say what?” spat Michelle, taking him by surprise. “That you’re single-handedly throwing this company under a bus? What’s the game, Blake? Are you doing this deliberately?”
“No,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “There was a reason I was there, and not the reason you’re thinking of.”
“Sure, Blake. There’s always a reason.”
He heard David mumbling something, then the sound of the phone being passed over.
“Sorry,” David said. “She knew you wouldn’t answer if it was her. Look, I’m not going to lie. This is bad.”
“The bar?” Blake said. “How—”
“I’ve got a media alert,” said David. “It tells me when your name goes viral. It’s been pinging all day, but this one is through the roof. What were you doing?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” said Blake, kicking himself. “How bad is it?”
“Bad,” said David. “But you don’t have to take my word for it. I’ve emailed you the link.”
Great, said Blake.
“I don’t want to scare you, Blake, but Agnes is trying to get the board together tomorrow. They’re making a move.”
“I’ll be there,” said Blake. “Don’t let them meet without me.”
“I won’t,” said David. “But whatever you do, stay inside. Don’t leave your apartment. There’s a serious danger that you’re going to lose everything.”
David ended the call, and Blake opened his email. The link from David was waiting for him there, and after a moment’s hesitation he clicked on it. It loaded a YouTube video entitled ‘Blake Fielding gets what’s coming to him’. The wobbly footage started behind the bar, and he watched from the barmaid’s point of view as she crossed the room. The dread churned in his stomach, but then he saw himself in the booth, Ellie sitting opposite him, and it almost instantly turned into something else, something he couldn’t quite believe.
Happiness.
He saw the way he was staring into Ellie’s eyes, the way his body language leaned into her. He saw his own smile, and he couldn’t quite believe it was real. He didn’t look like the man he’d seen in the mirror for the last few years, or the man they photographed for the company brochures. That Blake had always worn a fake smile, even though he’d convinced his friends and family it had been real. He’d never known why it was fake. But now he did.
It had been a fake smile, because he hadn’t had Ellie in his life.
On the video, she mirrored his posture over the table, something he hadn’t noticed until now. Her eyes were locked onto him, her chin resting on her hand, her whole body pressed to the table as if she was trying to flow right through it to get to him.
She feels the same way, he thought, and it made his insides loop-the-loop to know it.
He watched as the waitress walked up to them, he saw himself reluctantly turn away from Ellie. Then the drink was over his head and the footage turned shaky as he jumped to his feet. He’d been so shocked that he hadn’t really noticed what had happened next, but the way Ellie leapt to his aid took the edge off the incident. She looked as if she was ready to swing a punch to defend him.
Why was she so willing to believe him when the rest of the world had judged him guilty? And would she still fight his corner now that this video had gone public?
“Here we are,” said the cab driver, pulling up in front of his building. He thanked the man and climbed out, hanging onto the cell so he didn’t have to put it back into his wet pocket.
There’s a serious danger that you’re going to lose everything, David had said. His company, his shares, his money, his future.
So why was it that he only cared about not losing Ellie?
11
Ellie was a sweaty mess by the time she arrived back at her apartment. She’d used the last of her money on the coffees and hadn’t been able to afford a cab, the walk home taking the better part of an hour. The evening was hot and clammy, and she still felt like she was in adrenaline mode after the incident at the bar. Her pulse was racing, her body like a furnace. She couldn’t believe that had happened. It didn’t feel real. How could anybody be that cruel to another person? Even if Blake had been guilty, it didn’t give somebody the right to tip a whole pitcher of rancid water over him.
She unlocked the door, picturing Blake’s face. He’d looked so horrified, so upset. She had no reason to believe his claim that he was innocent, but in the short time she’d spent with him tonight she felt she already knew him. Either he was telling the truth, or he was the world’s best liar.
Of course, it wasn’t like she hadn’t been taken in by a liar and a cheat before.
The door opened into the small apartment, and Ellie almost screamed when a figure lunged at her out of the darkness.
“Oh, sorry,” said Josh, not sounding sorry at all. “I just needed to collect some of my things.”
The fright quickly turned to anger and Ellie pushed past him, hanging her bag in the hall next to the lightweight raincoat he wore whatever the weather.
“You don’t have anything left here,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm. “You haven’t had anything here for weeks.”
“I beg to differ,” he said, holding up a razor. She was certain it hadn’t been here before today, she’d gone through the place in forensic detail after he’d left and chucked everything that belonged to him—and everything that they owned together—in a trash bag. But Josh insisted on keeping a key, and she was too poor to have the locks changed, and technically the lease on the apartment was in both their names so she couldn’t even complain to the landlord.
“Well you have it,” Ellie said. “Now you can go.”
“Coffee?” Josh said. “I’ve put a pot on.”
Ellie screamed internally, walking into the kitchen to see that as well as the coffee bubbling in the pot there was something spinning in the microwave. The smell of cheap burger filled the air. His
laptop was open on the counter.
“You don’t mind,” he said, a statement rather than a question. “I won’t be long. Besides, I figured you could use the company.”
“I’m tired, Josh,” she said. “It’s been a long day.”
“You and me both, honey,” he said, pouring himself a mug of coffee and adding half a pack of creamer. He leaned against the counter. “Where have you been?”
“None of your concern,” she said, wondering if he’d leave the apartment if she picked up a knife and chased him out. But that’s the kind of thing Josh wanted her to do. That’s how he operated. He drove you insane, made you feel like you were losing your mind, then stepped in and told you he could make it all better. “Just eat and leave.”
He smiled, and it wasn’t kind.
“I know where you’ve been,” he said. “I know who you’ve been with.”
Ellie hesitated, not wanting to fall into one of his traps. He twisted the laptop toward her and jabbed his finger on the trackpad. A video started playing on screen, so dark and so fuzzy that it took her a moment to recognize herself and Blake in the bar. She watched with a growing sense of panic as the barmaid threw the drink over Blake’s head, as he shot up in shock, as she defended him. Then it cut to black.
“Great choice for a date,” Josh said, revelling in it. “You really do know how to make a fool of yourself, silly girl.”
Ellie was speechless. She felt terrible. This had all happened because of her. If she hadn’t gone for that interview then she never would have bumped into Blake. If she hadn’t dropped her notebook then he never would have had to bring it to her. If she hadn’t suggested the bar then Blake never would have been filmed. He was in enough trouble as it was, this could ruin him.
“Have you seen the comments?” Josh said, grinning. “People really do hate him. I’m surprised you don’t feel the same way, being a girl. In the latest bunch of posts on his page he claimed that girls shouldn’t be allowed to drive because they don’t have the coordination for it. Maybe he’s right, though. I mean look at you. You were left to your own devices tonight and you picked the very worst person on the planet to go on a date with.”
The rage was boiling inside her skull and she stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. There was nothing to lock it with so she sat with her back to the door, planting her head in her hands.
Could Josh be right? Could Blake really have said those things? She pulled out her cell phone and opened up the browser, searching for Blake’s name. His Heartbook page had been taken down, but there were a million screenshots of what had been posted there. They really were vile and disgusting statements. She couldn’t understand how they could be made by the same person she had met tonight. These remarks were blunt and lazy and cruel. Blake had been talkative—he’d wittered more than her—and imaginative and kind. The posts were offensively demeaning to women, but Blake had spoken about his mother with such pride and such love.
No, it couldn’t have been him. Ellie had no idea what was happening, but she was certain that he was being set up. The thought made her feel like a mother bear. It made her want to run to his side and fight for him. The strength of the feeling surprised her, she’d never felt that way about a man before. But even though Blake was one of the strongest men she’d ever met—even now she could picture the muscles straining against his hoodie—there was a vulnerability to him. Maybe he’d spent so long being in charge that he’d forgotten what it was like to be looked after.
But how was she supposed to look after him when he’d left without giving her his address, or even his phone number?
“I can hear you in there,” said Josh from the other side of the door. He was chewing loudly. “Come on, babe, come out and spend some time with me. It will make you feel better.”
She couldn’t think of anything that would make her feel worse. She stayed where she was, browsing through the search results until she found an article that wasn’t about the comments Blake had supposedly made. She opened up a business site, seeing a photo of a younger Blake with a woman who could only be his mother. She had silver hair, styled in a bob, and she was dressed in a sleek, powerful black suit, a string of pearls around her neck. Her face was kind, her eyes crinkled with laughter lines. She was holding onto Blake’s arm, his hand resting on hers. He was looking down at her with such love that it almost broke Ellie’s heart.
The headline read: “Blake Fielding, Is Silicon Valley’s Most Secretive Entrepreneur Actually The Tech Industry’s Nicest Guy?”
Was this the real Blake? How had his reputation sunk so quickly? Ellie just wanted to copy this article and send it to everyone on the planet, but there was no way to do it. She brushed a finger down Blake’s cheek, then put the phone on the floor. Outside the door she heard Josh drop his dishes into the sink.
“Place could do with a clean,” he yelled. “You never know when the landlord is going to drop by.”
He left, closing the door behind him and whistling his way down the corridor. Ellie shot, up, running to the front door and sliding the deadbolt across to stop him making any more unannounced visits. Even though he was the world’s biggest idiot, he was right, the apartment did look a little neglected. She’d been so busy at work, and planning for her interview, that she hadn’t vacuumed, and there were coffee mugs on practically every surface. It was too late to do anything about it now, but tomorrow she would blitz the place. In fact, she would blitz everything, she decided. It was time to get serious about her life. No more working in a café. No more letting Josh just walk through the door whenever he liked.
And no more daydreaming about Blake Fielding.
12
Ellie may have vowed not to daydream about Blake any more, but she obviously hadn’t told her brain not to dream about him. The visions in her sleep had been so vivid that when she woke up, stretching like a cat beneath her covers, it took her a moment to remember that he wasn’t really there.
She sat up, blinking away the sunshine that poured through her curtains and resting her hand on the cool, empty side of the bed. Her heart was still thrumming, but the dream was fading. All she could remember of it was walking along the river, sunlight reflected in the rippling water, Blake’s strong arm around her waist and his deep, heartfelt laughter ringing in her ears. She had been laughing too, actually laughing. She could feel the ache in her sides. It had felt so real, and the knowledge that it wasn’t was unbearably disappointing.
Stop it, Ellie! she commanded herself. You’ve just woken up and you’re already obsessing about him. Let’s go a day without thinking about Blake Fielding, okay?
A day. She could do that. She’d known him for less than a day anyway, so surely she could manage twenty-four hours without thinking about those dark curls, those fathomless blue eyes, that body carved from marble. And don’t even mention the smile.
Grrrr.
She clambered out of bed, yawning. It wasn’t even seven yet so she put some coffee on and some bread in the toaster. Josh had spilled a load of coffee grounds on the counter and instead of clearing up the mess he’d drawn a heart in them. She scrubbed it out with a dish cloth, pressing so hard she was in danger of leaving a mark on the Formica surface. She wished she could get rid of Josh as easily, and the thought of having to put up with him at work made her want to climb back into bed and stay there for the rest of the year.
No, she told herself. She wasn’t going to do it anymore. Last night she’d shared coffee with a billionaire—although admittedly one hated by pretty much the whole world. She wasn’t going to let Josh push her around.
She wasn’t sure if she had the courage to say it to his face, though. He could be irritatingly persuasive. Instead she took out her phone and texted Lissa, asking if she could come in later. Rob would be covering the morning shift as well and there was never enough for them all to do. Besides, even though yesterday had been a complete washout, it had given her renewed enthusiasm for LifeWrite. Blake had seemed genuinely intere
sted, and even though he might not be in any position to work with her now, maybe somebody else was. She certainly wasn’t going to find success serving coffees in a café. And besides, who was to say she wouldn’t have another chance to pitch her idea with him over coffee?
You’re thinking about him again, said her brain, and she slapped herself gently on the side of the head.
Her cell buzzed, Lissa’s message appearing.
Sure, hon, after yesterday I don’t blame you. Take the day if you like.
She was about to reply when another text came through.
And be careful. Josh sent us all the video. Remember, you deserve better. You deserve the best. Love you.
She fired back a thank you, then poured herself some coffee. Sunlight flooded the room and she basked in it, feeling her mood lift. Yeah, she’d take the day and work on some designs for LifeWrite, then maybe the next time she met Blake she’d have something concrete to show him.
Enough about Blake! her brain said.
It wasn’t like she’d ever see him again. In fact there was practically zero chance of that happening, seeing as how he hadn’t left her any way to contact him, and only dropped a couple of hints about where he spent his time. Even if she did see him would he even remember who she was? She would be better forgetting all about him, and all about yesterday.
But it was like his smile was a sun rising inside her head, it was impossible not to feel his warmth.
She shook her head, calling her mom. She’d given her the briefest of summaries last night on the way to the bar, but she hadn’t wanted to say too much in front of Blake.
“Honey,” said mom, the idyllic sounds of cows lowing and birds singing in the background. “I’m so glad you called. It’s not like I spent all night wondering whether your date had thrown you off the Golden Gate Bridge.”
“One, he wasn’t a date,” said Ellie, crunching toast as she spoke. “Two, there’s way too much traffic on the bridge to dump a body, and three, he definitely wasn’t a date.”
My Antisocial Billionaire: A Clean Billionaire Romance (My Billionaire A-Z Book 1) Page 6