Claimed by the Billionaire: Rescue #3

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Claimed by the Billionaire: Rescue #3 Page 2

by Danielle Jamesen


  Winter smiled, “Yes, it was truly wonderful. Absolutely lovely.”

  Amanda made a concerned face, “But now I hear that you are getting a divorce?”

  Now Winter’s face fell too, as though she was about to talk about something she couldn’t bear to say out loud, “Yes. It’s true. Bradley filed for divorce.”

  “Why would he do something to someone so beautiful and talented?”

  Huh, so much for unbiased journalism, I thought, not daring to glance over at Bradley.

  Winter lowered her head, “I’m sure you’ve seen the gossip magazines, Amanda. He’s cheating on me with his own personal assistant.”

  Amanda feigned surprise, “How could he do such a thing?”

  Winter shook her head, “I don’t know. I really don’t. He works so hard, you know. All the time, he works to make the best products he can for this country and around the world. He isn’t a selfish billionaire. He cares about his company. But he cares a little too much about his company’s employees, if you catch my drift.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “I walked in on him and the girl,” I smarted at the fact she called me a girl when I was a couple years older than her, “In his office. Can you imagine? I had gone there to try to talk to him about calling off the divorce, to let him know I truly cared…” Her voice caught at this, as though she was going to cry, “But he was…he was with her, physically. On his desk.”

  Amanda reached out and patted Winter’s hand as she cried daintily, dabbing her eyes, “That must have been horrible.”

  “Oh, it was. Imagine — imagine thinking you had a chance to save your marriage but you really didn’t at all. Not at all, it was just that he was sleeping with someone else the entire time. It’s heart breaking. And now it’s all over the gossip sites too, making me feel even more foolish than I already did.”

  Winter kept crying, weaving her sob story for everyone to hear. It made me so angry. She was saying now that she just wanted Bradley to come back to her and have things be the way they used to be. The interview ended with Amanda promising more “bombshells” soon, whatever that could be.

  A commercial came on and I glanced over at Bradley who was still sitting on the edge of the tub, looking as though he had aged forty years in the span of that interview.

  “Why don’t we just leak the damn tape I took?” I asked him.

  “What?”

  “The tape of her bribing me to spy on you. Why don’t we just leak it to all those sites? How can she refute that?”

  Bradley bit his bottom lip as if he was thinking, tossing it over in his mind slowly, “Is there any way she could turn it to her advantage?”

  “No,” I replied, “I mean, what could she say?”

  “That she tried to bribe you to spy on me because she thought it could save our marriage. That she could see if I was cheating and come back to her.”

  I pointed to the TV, “But she said right on the show that she had no idea you were cheating until she walked in on us. So she’d be lying.”

  “That wouldn’t matter. It’s a lie that could be easily adjusted.”

  “It’s still bribery. She was still paying someone to spy on you. That’s crazy. I think if you release it and let the public hear the tape for themselves, they can make up their own minds.”

  Bradley was lost in thought.

  Chapter 3

  The video clip on TMZ ended. The headline above it — ‘INNOCENT’ WINTER BRIBING TO HAVE SOMEONE SPY ON HER HUSBAND CAUGHT ON TAPE — was large and impossible to miss.

  The story didn’t say much. It said that this audio clip reporting to be Winter bribing someone in Bradley’s company had been leaked and they were waiting for a statement from Winter.

  Bradley and I stared at the page, hoping that this would lead to something positive for Bradley. The press hadn’t exactly been kind about him “cheating” on his wife who just wanted to fix up their marriage. He was worried it would affect his business.

  With the clip leaked, Bradley leaned back in his chair, overlooking his office.

  “Bradley,” I said to him and he looked up at me, “It’s time for me to resign.”

  His mouth made a hard line, “We talked about this, Serena.”

  “No, we decided that we’d see if you could pay for my things or not until I find another job. I think we already decided that turning in my notice is the best thing for the company and your divorce.”

  Bradley rubbed his eyes and sighed, “I can’t tell you what to do, Serena. But what are you going to do about money? This is my fault. Let me help.”

  I felt torn between what to do. I didn’t want Bradley to pay all my things but I also couldn’t help but agree with what he was saying. I didn’t look to be dragged into a mess like this with his ex-wife.

  I let out a sigh, “Fine.”

  “Okay,” He grabbed my hand gently, “Then we’ll do that.”

  It didn’t take long for the headlines to appear online — BRADLEY GABLE’S LOVE INTEREST QUITS HIS COMPANY — and there were all sorts of versions. I was doing it because I was nervous about Winter or because I was going to move in with Bradley or because I was going to sue him for sexual harassment. When I got home from work the night after the information leaked online, the paparazzi were outside my apartment. They had found out where I lived. I had Greg in the car, having picked him up from his after school program and his eyes were wide and like saucers.

  “Mom, what’s going on?” He asked me, “Did someone die?”

  I cringed inside. Last time we had had the press on us like this, it was after Greg’s father had died and the company had lost all its money. I hadn’t been looking forward to dealing with it again.

  “Don’t talk to them, okay, Greg?” I said as we parked.

  “Okay, mom.”

  “Stay close to me and we’ll get in the house, understand?”

  Greg nodded. The paparazzi had noticed the car and started running over to it. I slipped on a pair of giant sunglasses I had in case this happened and opened the car door. I grabbed Greg’s hand as soon as he stepped out of the car and pulled him close to him. We took off towards the front door, trying to ward off the press.

  “Does your son know you quit your job?” One shouted.

  “Have you told your son that you are sleeping with your ex-boss?” Another one yelled.

  “Did Mr. Gable sexually assault you?”

  My jaw clenched. I felt the anger rise and crash over me a few times and I grit my teeth. I wanted to punch each and every one of them square in the face as they jostled me and my son around as though we weren’t people, just hot stories.

  We finally burst into the apartment and I slammed the door shut behind me, quickly closing the window closest to the door.

  “Greg, pull the blinds shut on the other windows.” I ordered and Greg took off.

  I pulled out my cell and called Bradley, who answered on the first ring. As I told him what had happened, I could hear him getting angrier on the other line.

  “Serena,” He said when I finished, “You can’t stay there. They’ll just keep you locked in and any time you leave it’ll be a mess.”

  “What do you expect me to do?”

  “Come to my apartment.”

  “Are you serious? The press would go all over that.”

  “No, I’ll send a car by to come get you. Bring Greg. I have plenty of room. Bring some things you will need for the rest of the week.”

  I hesitated, “I don’t…”

  “Serena, they will not leave. I have a doorman, I have some protection at least. You can try to relax here.”

  Greg bounded into the hallway, peering at me curiously and I lowered the phone for a second, “Greg, pack some things for the rest of the week. We’re going to get away from the bad people outside.”

  Greg nodded, probably taking it as an adventure, if I knew my boy and bolted off towards his room.

  On the other end, Bradley said, “I’ll get a ca
r there in an hour, okay?”

  I hung up, suddenly feeling extremely nauseous. The stress was getting to me more than I was leading on. I ran off to the bathroom, crouching over it, watching as my lunch came up. When this was all over, I told myself, I’d take a vacation.

  True to his word, an hour later, my phone rang. It was the driver, saying that he and a bodyguard were getting out of the car and going to the front door. They told me to be ready.

  When they rang the doorbell, I clutched Greg close to me and we went back out into the mess of the outside. The bodyguard made sure we had a clear enough way to get to the limo. The driver opened the door. I tried to ignore the fact my picture was being taken every two seconds or that Greg was being photographed as well. The driver opened the limo door and I made sure Greg got in first. I slid in after him as the bodyguard put the two suitcases I had packed in the back.

  The limo was silent and the windows heavily tinted. I knew they couldn’t see us anymore. Greg was still clinging to me and I ran my fingers through his soft hair as the limo purred to life underneath us. It was trying to leave but the paparazzi was thick and stubborn.

  Finally, the driver lurched forward, as if he was threatening to run them over. They finally parted and he was able to get out of the parking lot. Soon, we were on the road.

  “Mom, what’s going on?” Greg asked me, looking up at me.

  I wasn’t sure how to explain it or where to even properly begin. I knew I would have to tell him something. Greg wasn’t a stupid kid. He’d pick up on the fact that something was wrong. I knew he heard what the reporters had been shouting at us too, about my boss and me.

  I sighed, “There’s some trouble at mommy’s work. We’re going to go have to stay with my old boss.”

  “Old boss?”

  “I had to leave the job. But we’ll be okay, Greg. We’ve always had been, right? My old boss, Bradley, he’s helping us from those people. Where we are going, we won’t be bothered.”

  Greg fell silent, clearing trying to understand what I had been telling him. I hoped it wasn’t too much for him. The limo went along slowly, out of the area where I lived in and was making its way back to the city.

  I didn’t know where Bradley lived, I realized. I hadn’t even pictured it. It had been so busy lately and so crazy that I never pictured where we went to bed at night or got up in the morning. I couldn’t help but think that it was probably stunning. I guess I would be seeing it now.

  The limo pulled up in front of an apartment complex that seemed to have at least thirty floors. Greg looked up at it, mouth slightly open.

  “Hey, mom, isn’t this the new place that opened last year?”

  He was right. This apartment complex, which seemed to underscore its grandeur, was indeed brand new. It had opened last year for the elite, a way for them to get their own place and have the freedom to design it as well, if they cared as much. I don’t know why I thought that Bradley would be at anyplace other than this one.

  We went into the parking garage, hidden from view from everyone. The limo then drove up to a side entrance with glass doors.

  “A secret entrance, mom!” Greg explained, plastering his face against the glass of the limo, “Cool!”

  I had to admit that the fact this place had so many well-known people staying here that it had to have its own secret entrance was pretty cool. The limo door opened and Greg and I stepped out into the parking garage.

  “Thank you.” I said to the driver who just nodded in return.

  The body guard, a giant of a man that looked like he could knock anyone down if he so desired, led us to the hidden entrance. He typed in a pass code and then the doors opened and he ushered us inside.

  In the evening light, the lobby was quiet and dimly lit. There was a fountain in the center of the marble flooring and off to the side, along the wall, was running water, cascading down into tiny pools with flowers bobbing on them. Well-dressed people were walking in and out of the front doors or heading to the elevators. There was a large desk on one end with the receptionist. There were flowers all behind her and even a giant aquarium off to one side.

  “Wow!” Greg exclaimed loudly, breaking the carefully constructed silence.

  I shushed him as quickly as I could, trying not to be embarrassed. The body guard led us over to the elevators. We slid into an empty one, the doors shutting behind us. Even the elevators had plush carpet, I noticed. There were mirrors all along the inside and I caught sight of me.

  I wished I hadn’t. I looked dreadful. My hair looked messy, my clothes askew and my skin ashen. I had taken off my sun glasses when we came into the building and I looked as though I hadn’t slept in decades. I hated that Bradley was going to see me while I looked so completely terrible.

  The body guard pulled out a key and slid it into a slot that was underneath the buttons to press.

  “What are you doing?” Greg asked, point blank.

  Normally I would have asked him to mind his manners but I was too curious as well to hold him back.

  The body guard looked at Greg kindly, which went at odds with his massive body frame, “Mr. Gable lives up on the top floor. You can only get the elevator there if you slide the guy in the lock.”

  “Whoa!” Greg said, impressed, staring at where the key had been slid.

  I was impressed too, thinking of how even when I had had money, I had never had that amount of money. The elevator rose up and Greg yanked on my arm. I turned around. The elevator was a window and you could see through the back. We looked over the city as we rose higher, the lights turning on slowly through out it, the sun setting and casting different shades of orange over the city.

  The elevator stopped and the body guard led us out. I was expecting a hallway to Bradley’s place but we were in the foyer of his penthouse already. There was hard wood floors all over, with low lighting and a rustic feel throughout the foyer. The body guard put down the suitcases and asked us to wait in the foyer.

  “Mom,” Greg said in a quiet voice, “Your old boss is really rich!”

  He was right but I didn’t get to reply. Bradley came in through the door that separated the foyer from the rest of the house. He was in casual clothes like the time he had come over to my apartment. His shirt looked as though he had just thrown it on and he was wearing jeans.

  “Hey, you guys get here okay?” Bradley said, stepping forward.

  “We did, thank you,” I replied and then nudged Greg forward a little, “Bradley, this is Greg, my son.”

  “You’re rich!” Greg exclaimed loudly.

  “Greg!” I said.

  Greg lowered his head, “Sorry.” He said, sounding abashed.

  Bradley crouched so he was at Greg’s level, “It’s nice to meet you, Greg. Your mom has told me a lot about you.”

  “Greg has homework to do. Is there anywhere that he can work?” I asked.

  “I don’t want to do homework,” Greg whined, “I want to do something fun.”

  “How about you do your homework and then we do something fun?” Bradley asked.

  Greg eyed him, “Like what?”

  “Well, I have some video games…”

  Greg demanded to know what video games and when Bradley named the latest title in Greg’s favorite series, I knew that was enough to have Greg focus on his homework so he could play. Greg seemed to warm up to Bradley after that, deciding that being rich was cool but having the latest video games was even cooler.

  Chapter 4

  We walked into his living room. My jaw dropped at the view. He had floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city, like his office but all along the wall. The couch was massive and looked as plush as could be with a state of the art entertainment center in the middle of the room. There was a step up which led to the dining room, more of the same rustic feel with a solid oak dining room table. I couldn’t see the kitchen yet but Bradley nodded to the dining room table.

  “You can work there if you want, Greg.” Bradley said.

>   Greg walked over to the table, putting his backpack up on it and settling down to work.

  “Do you want anything to drink?” Bradley asked him.

  Greg asked for orange juice which is when I knew he was on his best behavior. Usually he wanted a soda that was bad for him and we’d start bickering about it. I followed Bradley to the kitchen. The counters opened out to the dining room but I couldn’t get over the size of the kitchen.

  “Do you actually cook in here?” I asked, eying the state of the art cookware and appliances.

  “Not really.” He said with a shrug.

  As he went to go get Greg his orange juice, I whispered a thank you to him. Bradley just smiled and, with the fridge door opened and blocking us from Greg’s site, he trailed his thumb down my cheek.

  “Absolutely, Serena.” He whispered, looking in my eyes, which made my heart pound.

  He went back to the dining room to give Greg his orange juice.

  It was a little past ten before I could get Greg to settle down in one of the extra guest rooms to sleep. He had been playing that video game and was excited, yammering about how he didn’t think he felt well enough for school and would have to stay here tomorrow to get better. Soon, he was fast asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly with each breath.

  I wandered back out into the hallway. Bradley was waiting.

  “He settle in okay?” He asked me.

  I wrapped my arms around myself, “Yeah, it was a long night. Sensory overload for him, I think.”

  “I knew they’d find your place eventually. I hope you’re okay with staying here.”

  I smiled wanly at him, “I’m okay,” I admitted, “I feel kind of sick actually but I think it’s just stress.”

  Bradley started leading me down the hallway, pausing in front of another oak door, “This is the other guest room.”

  I tried not to let the fact I was surprised show on my face. I didn’t want to stay in a guest room. I wanted to stay with Bradley.

  “Okay.” Was all I said in reply and he eyed me closely.

  “Serena, I didn’t want to assume you’d stay with me,” How had he guessed so easily? “But you’re more than welcome to share my bed. I’d love it, in fact.”

 

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