by S. M. West
Rush
Trojan #4
S.M. West
Contents
PLAYLIST
1. Pru
2. Eli
3. Pru
4. Pru
5. Eli
6. Pru
7. Eli
8. Eli
9. Pru
10. Eli
11. Pru
12. Eli
13. Pru
14. Eli
15. Pru
16. Eli
17. Eli
18. Pru
19. Eli
20. Eli
21. Pru
22. Pru
23. Eli
24. Pru
25. Pru
26. Pru
27. Eli
28. Eli
29. Pru
30. Eli
31. Pru
32. Pru
33. Eli
34. Eli
35. Eli
36. Pru
Epilogue
Other books by S.M. West
About the Author
Rush
Copyright © 2021 S.M. West
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Digital ISBN: 978-1-989881-29-3
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely
coincidental.
Cover Design: RBA Designs
Edited & Proofed: Happily Editing Anns
Cover Photo: Wander Aguiar Photography
Cover Models: Andrew Biernat & Michelle Hertzberg
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Created with Vellum
“Don’t ever think I fell for you or fell over you. I didn’t fall in love, I rose in it.”
~ Jazz, Toni Morrison
PLAYLIST
Listen On Spotify
“Wildflowers” – Tom Petty
“Red Red Wine” – UB40
“Respect” – Aretha Franklin
“The Man Who Sold The World” – Nirvana
“American Woman” – Lenny Kravitz
“Nothing Compares 2U” – Sinead O’Connor
“Whirlwind” – Sam Ryder
“Nothing Compares 2U” – Chris Cornell
“Always on My Mind” – Pet Shop Boys
“Feeling Good” – Muse
“Incomplete” – James Bay
“The Tide is High” – Blondie
“Feeling Good” – Nina Simone
“The Best of You” – Foo Fighters
“Heart of Glass” – Blondie
“Say You Won’t Let Go” – James Arthur
“Free Fallin’” – Tom Petty
“Free Fallin’” – John Mayer
“It’s My Life” – No Doubt
“Ring of Fire” – Johnny Cash
“Make Me Feel Your Love” – Adele
“I Lived” – OneRepublic
“Killing Me Softly” – Fugees & Ms. Lauryn Hill
“Never Tear Us Apart” – INXS
“Can’t Take My Eyes of You” – Ms. Lauryn Hill
“Hallelujah” – Jeff Buckley
“Iris” – Goo Goo Dolls
“Wonderwall” – Ryan Adams
Inspiration for RUSH on Pinterest
1
Pru
This girl’s all out of sugar
“Well, it’s official.” I stare at the production assistant’s text. “I’m the new foreign language dialect coach for What Tomorrow Brings.”
Never in a million years did I see this coming, especially considering how craptastic my life has been recently. Although it’s hard to get excited about a job I don’t want. I loathe anything to do with celebrities.
My family name brings enough of the spotlight. In New York City, Edwards means old money founded on an industrial dynasty.
“Pru, that’s amazing.” Harley’s happiness for me lessens the lingering sting at the current shambles of my life.
“Is it?” I study my Duomo Days, Isola Nights blue nail polish.
“Come on, don’t be grumpy. This isn’t like you. You’re my ‘make lemonade out of lemons’ girl.”
“This girl’s all out of sugar and tired of sucking lemons.” The shot of tequila, near tasteless, slides smoothly down my throat and warms my insides. “And I’ve got the cankers to show for it.”
I exaggerate a pout, and she scrunches her pert nose, shaking her head.
“Don’t be a brat. Let’s celebrate.” She holds up our empty shot glasses and the bartender nods, acknowledging the request for another round. “When do you start?”
“Two days.”
It’s plenty of time to move out of my former employer’s TriBeCa loft and into my mother’s penthouse at the El Dorado, one of Central Park West’s most iconic pre-war cooperatives.
The place belonged to my grandparents and with their passing, it went to their daughter, Priscilla, with one caveat—it will eventually be mine, either upon my mother’s death or if Mom gives it to me sooner.
Yeah, right. At nearly twenty-six, it’ll be a long wait until it’s mine.
“This could be a new career for you.” My best friend’s enthusiasm leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
The petite bartender approaches, smirking. “These,”—the shots are set down in front of us—“are from the guys at the other end.”
Three suits ogle us from across the crowded pub. It’s happy hour, and while not intentional, we’re showing more skin than most in our summer dresses. This Pearl Street after work drinking hole isn’t our usual hangout, and we’re unicorns among a sea of black, blue, and gray office attire.
The Wall Street bankers raise their glasses, sporting thirsty grins, as an invitation to come over. There’s nothing off-putting nor spectacular about them. Hair trim, clean-shaven, nails better manicured than mine…and their wolfish grins do nothing for me.
Not to be rude, but with no intentions of joining them, we lift our shot glasses in cheers and thanks. I smile, down the liquid in one gulp, and plunk the empty glass onto the bar.
Harley’s blissfully on her way to the altar, and I’m not interested in harmless flirting or a meaningless anything.
Images from a week ago, at another bar—The Salon in Chelsea—explode in my mind like a psychedelic acid flashback. I clench my thighs together, easing the sudden ache gathering between my legs.
My one and only one-night stand.
Serious relationships aren’t my thing. Monogamy and friendship, definitely—but both parties have to agree to fun…not forever.
Mr. Knee Melter was a first for me. A first in more ways than one. He was a complete stranger, and with just a look, something indescribable fired between us. I wanted him to fuck my brains out.
Sure, I’ve had instant attraction before, but nothing like this. Nothing so consuming I threw caution to the wind. I was impulsive.
Before him, attraction was as far as I’d take things with some guy in a club. I mean, a girl’s gotta have standards, and there’s no harm in wild fantasies. But this man…he was different. Everything about him was different.
Without exchanging words, I followed him to the restrooms. No hesitation.
We were finally alone. The sultry heat of his breath on my neck, his overpowering, masculine scent, an
d his possessive hands.
My body buzzes with vivid sensations of him. I can almost feel the weight of him pressing into me. Deep pools of molten chocolate colored eyes scorched my soul.
Strong, deft hands carried me to the counter, cupping my ass and hiking up my dress. Hot lips seared the swell of my breasts, and teeth nipped playfully at my collarbone.
Gah, my panties are soaked.
“Do you want anything else?” The bartender murders my dirty daydreams like a butcher hacking at fresh meat.
I jolt from my erotic stupor and my bestie grabs my shoulder to steady me. “You okay?”
“Um, uh, I’m fine.” Heat creeps into my cheeks as if my visions play on the wall like a movie for all to see.
“We’ll have two waters, please,” Harley says, and I’m grateful for the chance to pull myself together.
Yes, my naughty hookup was unforgettable and yet she only has the highlights. I couldn’t find the words and oddly, I didn’t want to share.
The night was supposed to be just sex, but it was more than physical. And if possible, I wouldn’t have showered for days, not willing to wash off his scent let alone forget the way he owned my body. I still vacillate between wondering if it even happened to never wanting to forget.
Shoot, I’m doing it again, imagining him. It’s pointless torture. I don’t know his name, and even if I did, it wouldn’t go anywhere.
Forget about him, Pru.
Determined to stick to the here and now, I press a smile onto my face. “So where were we?”
“The job…it could be the start of something new.”
A server brings two glasses of water, and an unattractive snort bubbles up my throat. “I’m not so sure I want the job. I only took it so Ross would stop going on about it. All I wanted was to leave his office.”
The deep sapphire of my nail polish lulls my senses, squashing the rising ire at the mention of my ex-boss.
“Dumbass.”
We used to be friends and business partners, and now, I’m not so sure. A wave of nausea or more like anger ploughs into me. As CEO to my COO position, Ross Carmichael fired me, and the why of it, or lack thereof, still rubs me the wrong way.
“Have you talked to him?” Harley’s cautious, unsure if she should bring him up.
I was a screaming banshee the day I was canned, and Harley was the first—no, the only—person I called. And because she’s amazing, she dropped everything for me, even her fiancé, Nash.
He’s also great. When he found out what happened, he threatened to sue Ross’s ass and Carmichael-Edwards. If anyone could cripple Carmichael-Edwards, it would be Nash Everett.
“Nope and I don’t plan to. He’s called a few times, and he even had my replacement call me.” I put on a corporate voice, recalling Ross’s messages. “So as to ensure a smooth transition.”
“He didn’t!” Her fingers curl into fists. “That asshole.”
We met him at NYU, and right away it was clear he was driven to become the next Bill Gates.
Upon graduation, we joined forces and started a tech company, CE. He had visions of world domination, and I’m fluent in six languages—English, Spanish, French, Mandarin, Arabic, and Russian. Together, he was convinced we’d rule the world.
For five years I was as vital as he was in taking the company public and expanding globally.
“Yeah. I ignored him and almost did the same with my replacement. Guess his name?” I toy with the rim of the shot glass.
“It’s a guy?” She’s surprised, and I quirk a brow like she even has to ask. “Of course…Whitney.” Lips twisting at her mention of Ross’s wife.
“His name is Rupert, and as much as I want to hate him, he sounds like a nice guy. My complete opposite. He won’t challenge anything and will do as he’s told.”
“You’re way nicer than me. I wouldn’t have called him back. What did Rupert want?”
I chuckle. She so would have called him back or answered the call on the first ring. She really is nicer than I am.
“Oh, you know…everything. The lowdown on our, I mean their clients. How to best work with Ross. What does he like? What things to avoid?”
“So basically, he wanted all your secrets.”
“Pretty much.”
“Did you help him?”
“Yeah.” I blow out a rough breath. “I didn’t want to be a bitch. It isn’t his fault Ross is an ass.”
“Oh, Pru. I want to slap some sense into him. I can’t believe he caved to Whitney. He’s going to miss you in no time flat and probably already does, and CE will suffer. Just wait until Johannes or Fatima meet Rupert. They’re going to demand Ross get you back.”
I smile even as it hurts to think about the business relationships I formed and cultivated. It was me, not Ross, who spoke with them on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis.
It doesn’t matter that I got an obscene severance package, including stock options in the millions. Money can’t buy you happiness.
“Rupert will do a fine job.” I don’t sound convincing even to my own ears, and she releases a disgruntled puff of air.
It’s been a week, and I already miss the business. As much as I want to be the bigger person and wish CE much success…I agree with Harley. I hope the company feels the aftershocks of my dismissal for a long time.
I almost have a mind to demand Edwards be removed from the company name. But no, it’s my legacy, and he can’t take it away from me.
“Whatever.” I wave my hand as if easily erasing any residual pangs of loss. “At least I’ll be busy even if it isn’t a real job.”
“It is a real job.”
“It’s only for eight weeks.”
Her forehead furrows. “Seriously? He couldn’t even get you a long-term job?”
The jackass called in a favor with his famous director brother, Bryce Carmichael, or maybe it was the other way around. Whatever.
Bryce, normally in Los Angeles, is in New York filming a movie that includes several scenes in Spanish and Russian. The movie had a foreign language dialect coach, but something happened, and Bryce was scrambling for a replacement.
“It was only to appease his guilt.”
“Idiot. Well, it may be short-term, but you’ll kick ass.” She must see something in my expression when she asks, “What’s wrong?”
“You mean besides losing the company I built and having one of my closest friends stab me in the back and fire me?”
“Sorry, that’s a lot. But there’s something else.”
We stare at each other, and the laughter and music around us fades. How does she know I’m hiding something?
I’m still trying to wrap my head around the colossal leap I’ve taken off a cliff. It’s too early to tell if I’ll land safely or go splat, leaving nothing but a messy pile of goo. But if I can tell anyone, it would be my best friend.
“Do you need money?” She’s impatient for my response. “Did Priscilla cut you off?”
“No.” I bark out a laugh, welcoming the release. “Money isn’t a problem. Mom couldn’t cut me off even if she tried. I moved out of the loft.”
She pales. “Ross kicked you out of the company loft?”
“No. He said I could buy them out, considering I purchased and furnished the place, but I didn’t want it. I don’t want anything to do with him.”
“Pru, I hate this. Where will you live?”
“The El Dorado.”
Her eyes widen, knowing it’s a big deal for me to stay at my mom’s. I’ll do anything to not take from her even if the penthouse will eventually be mine.
“You are? What did Priscilla say?”
“You know, she’s so happy I’m making use of her place. No one is ever there, blah, blah, blah.” I shrug, trying not to think about the awkward call where I had to tell Priscilla Edwards, career woman extraordinaire, I’d lost my job.
She never supported CE, even when my investment in the firm—the one and only time I dipped into my trust fund—tripled in
the first year. Yeah, I was kind of smug when I shared that with her.
“If that isn’t it, then, what’s wrong?”
I hadn’t planned on saying anything tonight. I’m supposed to be drinking away my worries, not dredging up the past. This topic is a surefire way to kill any buzz.
“I’m looking for my father.” I swallow the strange lump in my throat.
“Really?” For all we have in common, Harley has an awesome father.
“I’m scared shitless, but I’m tired of not knowing.”
“I get it, and don’t take this the wrong way because I’m glad you’re doing it, but why now?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because of what’s happened with CE. I’m tired of losing people or having to leave things and places behind. Or maybe it’s because I have time on my hands.”
“Okay, so where do you start?”
My father is a mystery. When Mom got pregnant at thirty, she took a sabbatical from her high-powered job and returned to New York, living with her parents until my first birthday. Then she packed our suitcases, and we left the city. She hasn’t stopped moving since and refuses to talk about my father no matter how much I beg.
Priscilla is a vault.
I’ve tried to deny there’s another half of me out there, but I can’t any longer. I want to know him. My mother and I aren’t close, and my grandparents knew nothing about him.