“So, listen. We need to talk.”
Crap. I already hated how this was going.
“Some things have come up.”
“Clearly,” I said flatly.
He looked up, sliding his hands into his jeans. “I’m going to need you to take the rest of the day off. The next couple of days, in fact. I’ll text you with anything important that needs done and I can’t handle. Feel free to use the time to go and relax for a few days. Get away for the weekend even. Your services won’t be necessary here.”
My services won’t be necessary? I blinked, not even sure how to respond to that. “Breccan,” I started, trying to find the right words. “Last night—”
He held up a hand, pain flashing momentarily in his eyes. “Don’t, Cora. Just… go, take a couple of days. I’ll see you Monday,”
He turned and exited the room, leaving me a puddle of emotions. My hands shook as I grabbed my purse and tablet, trying desperately to ignore the happy giggles coming from Miranda in the next room.
I held the tears at bay the entire drive home, not breaking down until I turned the key to my front door. I’d had the best sex of my life, the best night of my life, and it was nothing more than another notch on Breccan’s bedpost.
Chapter SIX
Cora
I spent the rest of my weekend binge watching Nexflix, drinking all the wine I had in the house, and raiding my fridge of all the ice cream I owned while avoiding awkward “what’s wrong” phone calls from Simon. My emotions were all over the board: I went from heartbroken to feeling stupid, feeling used, then to furious that Breccan treated me that way, and back to being heartbroken. After allowing myself to pout for forty-eight hours, I decided enough was enough. He just wanted a night of casual sex, fine. Then I needed to accept that’s all it was and move on.
Somehow.
Breccan had only texted me once, with a change in his press junket schedule. I noted the change and rearranged a few things, texting him back several hours later that it was taken care of. He never replied.
Every time I turned on the TV (and I kept doing so because I was a horrible glutton for punishment apparently), the paparazzi had been all over the Breccan and Miranda reunion, already dubbing them Brecanda, and making me vomit in my mouth. After being spotted at The Ivy for dinner (because of course she’d pick the number one restaurant for photographers to stalk to ensure they’d be seen), the two had been spotted all over town: getting frozen yogurt, shopping at a farmer’s market, and even lounging on the beach.
As Monday morning rolled around, I dreaded heading over to Breccan’s house, knowing I would absolutely hate whatever I walked in on. I thought nothing could be worse than finding a naked slut on my first day, but I was sure no matter what condition I found him and Miranda in, it would be a thousand times worse.
I parked, grumbling as I noticed Miranda’s BMW 5 series in the driveway. “Well, here goes nothing.”
I took a deep breath and headed inside, surprised to see someone else with Breccan and Miranda.
“Ahh! There you are, Cara,” Miranda clucked.
“Cora,” I corrected her, barely keeping the venom out of my tone.
“Sorry, sorry. I don’t know why that keeps slipping my mind. Too distracted, I suppose.” She winked at Breccan and it took everything in me not to walk over and knock her teeth out. “Anyways, I wanted to introduce you to my assistant here. I thought you two would hit it off smashingly.”
The muscles of Breccan’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t say a word. I turned from him to Miranda’s assistant, my eyes widening a bit.
Miranda continued. “This here is Chase, my right hand man. I swear I’d be completely lost without him. Chase, this is Breccan’s assistant, Cora.”
He stood, coming over to shake my hand. I extended it, taking him in. He was tall, probably just over six feet, and was very what I called “California.” Tanned skin, toned muscles, a fantastic man-bun, and a beautiful face with strong, defined cheekbones and sparking green eyes. He could easily make it big in the modeling world. Hell, he might be trying to break into it with Miranda as a stepping stone. I could certainly see him on a runway.
“It’s nice to meet you, Cora,” he smiled down at me. He had a sexy southern drawl that made me want to just sit and listen to him talk for hours.
“You too,” I stammered out.
Miranda crossed her legs, scooting closer to Breccan, who only stiffened momentarily before wrapping his arm around her. I couldn’t bare to look another minute. Miranda sighed in contentment, making my stomach churn, before addressing us again. “Cora, I’m going to need you and Chase to work together for a few days, coordinating Breccan and my upcoming appearances.”
My eyes narrowed in confusion. “I wasn’t aware that you and Breccan had any upcoming appearances together.”
Miranda’s face may not have given much away—probably too much Botox—but her eyes said plenty. The possessive vibe was practically oozing out of them. They may as well screamed, “He’s mine now, bitch.”
She nudged Breccan with her shoulder. “Breccs, don’t you keep your people up to speed? However are they supposed to do their jobs properly?”
Breccan wouldn’t even look at me when he replied, “Chase will fill you in.”
I didn’t move, my eyes fixed on Breccan for several long moments, almost daring him to face me. Give me something: regret, anger, hell I’d even take pain, but he never did, instead his focus solely on his phone. Realizing I wasn’t getting anywhere with Breccan, I turned to Chase. I may have wanted to strangle Breccan and slap the bitch right out of Miranda, but I still had a job to do until my contract was up next week and I would do it well for Simon’s sake. He trusted me, and I wouldn’t let my personal feelings reflect badly on my brother. He didn’t deserve it.
“Well, let’s get started then, shall we?” I led Chase into the office, ignoring Miranda’s giggles from the other room. I sat down at the desk and pulled out my tablet. “So…” I didn’t even know where to begin, feeling completely out of the loop.
“She can be a bit… much, huh?” Chase winked at me.
“That’s one word for it. I might have chosen another.”
He bellowed out a laugh, tearing me out of my funk and making me smile with him. “Everyone thinks she’s America’s sweetheart, but nothing could be farther from the truth, am I right?”
I nodded. “So why work for her?”
“Connections. This industry is crazy to try to break into. It’s all about who you know. And love her or hate her, she’s a good person to know.” He pulled his chair next to mine, so close our elbows were touching. “So, let’s get started, shall we?”
It turned out that Miranda had somehow weaseled her way convincing the studio executives into letting her promote her next project—an off-Broadway play that had nothing at all to do with Breccan’s action flick—along side him. This meant that the majority of Breccan’s press junkets would be a dual appearance, and several things needed rearranged in both of their schedules.
Almost two hours later, Chase and I had hammered out the details of several upcoming TV appearances, had put in calls to over a dozen people, and coordinated both Breccan and Miranda’s schedules for the next two weeks. Of course, one phone call could blow everything we’d just done up, but it was a good start nonetheless.
Chase and I got along surprisingly well, swapping stories about some of the craziness we’d seen since moving to LA. Chase was really down to earth, and funny, and I enjoyed getting to know him.
I leaned back in my chair, my stomach grumbling. “I am famished. I haven’t eaten anything besides a Tic Tac so far today and I swear if we don’t take a break soon I’m going to go all zombie on you and start gnawing at your arm.”
He moved his arm out of my reach. “Um, sorry there, darling, but The Walking Dead films in Georgia, not LA.”
I giggled. “Well you better move your arm back over to Georgia or bring me a sandwich. You’re choice there.”
&n
bsp; “Hey, you nibble on me, I might just have to do the same.” He leaned over, his teeth grazing along my shoulder. “Mmm… sweet and tender, just the way I like it.”
I laughed again. “Oh my God, stop. That tickles!”
Chase repeated the motion, this time moving his fingers around my waist to tickle me further. I squealed, trying to roll my chair away, but his hands prevented me from going anywhere.
“What the fuck is going on?”
We both stopped and stared at Breccan, who was seething in the doorway, hands fisted at his sides and jaw set tight. His eyes were raging as he looked back and forth between us.
“Um, sorry. Did we disturb you and Miranda?” I asked, not the least bit sorry.
Breccan faltered a bit at my question, but still didn’t move. “Are you okay?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice.
My heart squeezed as a tiny glimmer of hope reentered my brain, but I quashed it back down. I couldn’t deal with hope. It was too painful. Instead, I stuck with indifference. “I’m fine, Breccan. Chase was just teasing me. Honest. You can go back to…whatever you and Melinda were doing.”
Chase snorted at my purposeful misuse of her name, while Breccan just continued to stare daggers at him.
“Besides, we’re almost done here. Unless there’s something else you needed?” I closed my tablet, setting it in my bag.
“No. I don’t.”
I stood up. “Good then. I’m going to get some lunch.”
Chase stood too, grabbing my bag for me. “Good. I’ll join you.”
I strode up to Breccan, missing his touch and angry at the way he played me. I was angrier at myself that I fell for his act. “I left your mail on the table. There was a certified letter, but nothing else seemed important. Is there anything else? Or can I go?”
Breccan opened his mouth. Closed it again. We were so close, all it would take was a few inches for him to reach out and touch me. Yet his hands remained at his sides. Finally, after staring at me for a solid minute, not saying a word, he moved aside. “Have a good day, Cora. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I didn’t bother to reply, instead, directing my words at Chase. “C’mon. I know this great taco stand not far from here. They have I swear the best tamales in all of LA.”
The last sound I heard as I walked out the door was Breccan’s low growl. I brushed it off, not letting him or his mood swings affect me any longer. No matter how badly it stung deep down.
Chapter SEVEN
Cora
I had nearly made it to the onramp for the 405 when I reached for my phone and realized it wasn’t there. Crap! I left it in Breccan’s office, sitting on the pile of receipts I was filing for the accountant. I so didn’t want to go back and face him again, but I couldn’t go all weekend without it. I made a U-turn and headed back to his beach house.
I was ecstatic when I pulled up and saw that Miranda’s car was gone. Thank God for small miracles. Using my key, I entered the house and slipped out of my flip flops, padding barefoot down the hall. “Breccan?” I called, but got no response. I know he’s here still. His car is in the driveway. The office was empty when I entered it, but my phone was right where I thought it was. Grabbing it, I peered back down the hallway into the master bedroom. The door was open and the lights were off, so I didn’t think he was there either. Where was he?
I debated just leaving, not wanting another confrontation, but as I headed back into the living room, I heard a noise coming from the left wing of the house. “Breccan?” I called softly again.
As I tiptoed closer, a low voice was mumbling. Was something wrong? Was he okay? The blue door, the one I wasn’t allowed to enter, was open. I paused, wondering what to do next. He clearly didn’t want me in that room.
The low mumbling got louder, angrier, until I could discern every word. “I don’t give a shit what that asshole says happened. It’s your job to make sure these things never happen. Never! Do you hear me?”
I paused, not sure what to do.
“Do you have any idea how much I pay you people? Any idea at all? It’s your job to make sure this type of thing never happens. NEVER! You need to control this. I cannot control everything. Do you understand me? I cannot control this!”
Something shattered, making me jump where I stood in the hallway.
“FUCK!” Breccan yelled, before something else was thrown against the wall, followed by a “Shit! Fuck!” There was a second of silence, and then the hairs on my airs raised as a very primal growl came from the room.
I didn’t even think, rushing into the room to make sure he was okay. “Breccan? Oh my God, are you okay?”
His head whipped around, his eyes wide and furious. “What the fuck are you doing here, Cora?”
I halted in my tracks. Holy shit. I was in the room. I wasn’t supposed to be in this room. “I… I heard you scream. I thought you might have been in trouble. Or needed help. Are you okay?”
My eyes roamed the forbidden surroundings, but there was nothing forbidden about it. It was just a bedroom with outdated furniture. Immaculate, but outdated. Everything, from the wallpaper to the shag carpet, screamed 1970’s. Breccan knelt on the floor, picking tiny shards of glass out of the thick fibers. “You’re bleeding, Breccan.”
He looked down as one tiny crimson drop slipped off the tip of his finger and onto the pristine gold carpet. A low growl emanated from his chest, rising with each passing second. I wasn’t sure if he was angry at me, the blood on the carpet, or whoever he’d just hung up on, but either way it wasn’t good. I backed out of the room and headed for the front door, locking it behind me. I didn’t look back. I was too afraid of what I’d see.
For the next week and a half, I worked closely with Chase while barely speaking with Breccan. When he wasn’t moody and brooding, he was distant, barely speaking more than a few words at me. Pristine
I was over whatever crawled up his butt, and was more than ready to give him a piece of my mind—and my notice that I was quitting. The only thing keeping me from going off on Breccan was Simon’s threats to send me back to Ohio and live with Mom if I lost him his best client. Of course, he just thought Breccan was being his usual overbearing, controlling self. He had no idea what really happened between us, or why I was truly so heartbroken. Because that’s what I was: heartbroken. We’d had this amazing night after two months of growing closer and then for him to just completely cut me off, I felt… crushed. Bamboozled. Stupid.
So Stupid.
Chase was doing a great job at keeping me distracted. He was smart and funny and ridiculously hot. Every day for the past week we’d spent going out to happy hour, watching a movie in my apartment, or enjoying take out pizza. Since both of us were relatively new to town, it was nice to finally find a friend to hang out with, and better yet, vent about horrible bosses.
And even though Chase had a serious girlfriend back home and we were strictly friends—having more of a brother/ sister relationship than anything remotely romantic—I still enjoyed the view whenever he was around.
I typed out an email, putting out a small fire as I watched Breccan give an interview to Entertainment Tonight on the small prompter. He was amazing, bright eyes full of life with just a hint of mischief. He played for the camera, flirting just enough with the interviewer and really amped up the charm. It was easy to see why everyone loved him. He was magnetizing. The entire crew, and I’m sure the audience, were eating out of the palm of his hands.
I slipped my phone back in my pocket and walked closer to the set, watching the interview live for myself. Miranda was back at hair and makeup with Chase, giving me free time to watch Breccan without her hanging all over him.
As Breccan answered the interviewer’s questions, his gaze caught mine, holding me captive. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t look away. His eyes were so expressive, his emotions practically spewing out of them as they spoke everything I’d been longing to hear him say for weeks.
I didn’t breathe. I didn’t move, just letting
the emotions of his gaze fill me, conveying everything that we’d left unsaid for the last two weeks. Regret, longing, and desire swirled together and poured out of them and reflected in my own. Everything else faded away except for Breccan. His voice filling my ears, though his words weren’t directed at me. I wanted to go to him, to run into his arms, but it wasn’t possible.
Right then, in that moment, it didn’t matter to me what happened after our night together or why Miranda came back into the picture. His eyes conveyed everything he’d held back for weeks and I knew with every ounce of my being that all of this had been a giant misunderstanding and that Breccan truly wanted to be with me. Wanted us. Together.
Suddenly, I couldn’t wait for this interview to be over. I practically bounced on my toes, ready to jump into his arms the moment the camera’s turned off.
Breaking All the Rules (Billionaire Romance) (The A List Series (Book 2)) Page 4