Penthouse Player

by Tara Leigh

  “Of course not. But look at me.” Bryce grimaced, rotating his shoulder. “Maybe if I’d made more of an attempt to avoid fights, I wouldn’t be in the position I am now.”

  “Shit. In all the chaos, I forgot about the reason you’re in New York. What did the doctor say?”

  “This one said surgery. I’m going for a second opinion tomorrow.”

  “What does that mean for your career?”

  “Means I’ll be out the rest of the season, for sure. I should be able to play next season, though. But there’s always going to be that next hit, X. And that’s the one I’m worried about.”

  I nodded, clinking glasses with Bryce and taking a long swallow of the bitter stout. The longer I worked in the business, the more I realized that the greatest risks were always the ones I didn’t see coming. If I could see it, I could handle it. But the ones that sprung up out of nowhere, charging hard and fast, those were the ones I had to steel myself against.

  “By the way, Page Six is going to run another story tomorrow, apologizing for what they insinuated with the side-by-side pictures, the awful title.” He gave a mock shiver of revulsion. “Your girl is gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, but the thought of fooling around with her skeeves me out now.”

  “Good.” I didn’t want anyone thinking about fooling around with Reina. “That story was low, even by Page Six standards. She didn’t deserve that.” I wondered what he would think if he knew Reina and I believed his father had been responsible for it in the first place.

  “So, are you serious about her?”

  “Yeah, I am. Very.” I swiped at the beads of condensation sliding down the glass, circling back to the beginning of our conversation. “Reina didn’t ask for this, you know. Her life’s dream is not to become a Van Horne.”

  “God, I hope not, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

  I laughed. “You haven’t exactly lived a life of hardship.”

  He scoffed. “What, like you have?”

  “No. But Reina has, so be nice to your new sibling. She’s never had a damn thing handed to her, and I think she’d really like to get to know you and your sisters.”

  “Got it. No hazing the new sis. Anything else?”

  I had a laundry list of tasks crowding my mind, but nothing more for Bryce. I finished my beer and said good-bye, mentally sorting my list in order of priority. First up was Reina, of course. We hadn’t spoken much after her meeting with Van Horne, but clearly their conversation had been a productive one.

  However, if the threat from Bull Capital had been neutralized, and I wasn’t entirely convinced that was the case, I wanted to be better prepared for the next one. To that end, discovering the mole behind @BettencourtBets was vital. If they were supplying information to anyone outside of our firm, they had gone way beyond disseminating half-truths and snarky commentary via social media. I’d always believed the best defense was a strong offense—and they were going down.

  On the walk back to my apartment, I called my father and then Kyle, passing along what I’d learned from Bryce and talking through my thoughts. By the time I entered the lobby, I had a suspicion just who needed to lose their seat at the table. When it came to Bettencourt, all bets were off.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  @BettencourtBets: This account has been suspended pending potential litigation.

  Reina

  Tristan was awake and out of bed before the sun. Although his arms had been wrapped around me the entire night, I could sense his mind was elsewhere. Not that I was surprised—this was a make or break week for Millennial. Tristan’s reputation as a fund manager and the future leader of Bettencourt was on the line, and it seemed like everyone was watching.

  I hadn’t slept much either. Spending time with my mother had been wonderful, but it also dredged up so many memories—mostly of times when she hadn’t been there for me. Part of me was still angry that she had forfeited the past decade so willingly. I knew the negative emotion would do me no good, but until our rift was fused by new memories we created together, it was like an unsightly tear on an otherwise beautiful canvas.

  Her husband was a different story. I didn’t know if Van Horne would accept me, or if I could ever forgive him for shutting me out of my mother’s life. But he’d followed through on at least one of my demands—telling his kids about me. And it wouldn’t be long before I learned whether he’d checked off the others. Maybe blackmail wasn’t the best way to begin a relationship, but at least it had worked.

  According to Tristan, Bryce seemed to be adjusting to the idea of having a third sister. I considered reaching out to him, given how well we’d gotten along the other night. But he was still a guy. Brother or not, I couldn’t bring myself to make the first move. That left Wendy and Celeste. I wasn’t going to hold my breath for Wendy to acknowledge my existence, not unless she needed something from me. And Celeste was an unknown. Bryce clearly adored her, so I had hope. But for the time being, my future with any of the Van Hornes was one big question mark.

  Tristan headed to the office first. I lagged behind, staying in the shower longer than usual, stopping off at Starbucks to indulge in a Grande Skinny Mocha on my way into work. With only a few minutes before our morning call, I scurried in to the lobby clutching my caffeinated hot chocolate as if it were a lifeline. I didn’t notice Megan heading straight for me until I nearly mowed her down. Her eyes were glassy, chin wrinkled and trembling from the effort of holding back tears. They slid down her reddened cheeks anyway, smearing wetly on her face with each unsuccessful attempt to wipe them away.

  “Megan, what’s wrong?” I asked.

  She stopped, her wide, wet eyes having trouble focusing on me, and I noticed the two security guards flanking her, looking distinctly unhappy about the delay.

  I drew in a quick breath. Holy crap. “You’re @BettencourtBets,” I whispered, almost as if she were a celebrity.

  Megan gave a wan smile. “I was.”

  At a loss for words, I stepped aside so she could pass, and she walked through the revolving doors, the guards vigilantly watching her exit. A vacant cab screeched to a halt and I saw Megan fumble for the door, then sit down gingerly with the box on her lap. The door closed, and then she was gone.

  Upstairs, Tristan’s assistant wasn’t at her desk either. Her screen was dark, the personal photos she’d scattered around the cubicle walls noticeably absent. Stephanie and Megan had been friends, but apparently they never learned the most important rule of all.

  The House always wins.

  Tristan

  It really fucking happened. As I gawked at the dozens of screens tuned in to Wendy Whitaker’s financial news segment, she introduced her current guest, her father, Gerald Van Horne. Fresh from a press conference announcing that he did indeed have another daughter, the result of an extramarital affair with his now current wife, he responded to the lurid Page Six headline, expressing his disappointment that anyone could misconstrue what was just a friendly hug between brother and sister.

  And when Wendy asked for investment recommendations, he touted the latest returns of his own family of funds, of course, then mentioned Millennial as a competitive upstart that was giving him a run for his money.

  I turned to Reina. “Did you have anything to do with this?”

  Her lips curved into a smile, eyes shooting sparks as vibrant as fireworks. “What makes you ask that?”

  “Because you’re the only one I know who can get into a ring with a bull and emerge not only unscathed, but with his leash in your hands.”

  Reina lifted her chin toward the image on screen. “Hardly. That bull is never going to be tamed, and only a fool would even attempt it.”

  I pulled her into me, ignoring the surprised stares of several colleagues. I met their gaze. We’re a couple, get over it.

  Since my name was on the employee handbook, I figured I didn’t have much wiggle room when it came to following the rules, so this morning we’d marched into the head of HR’s office as per
corporate policy. Technically, office romances weren’t forbidden, although working in the same department was frowned upon. But since she was continuing with the training program, she would be leaving soon to rotate through the other key areas of the firm. If Millennial was a success, we would launch another hedge fund within the next year or so, and either she would stay with Millennial while I shifted over to the new fund or vice versa. We would make things work. “The next few days are going to be crazy, but there’s a certain birthday I’d like to celebrate this weekend.”

  Surprise lit up her face. “How did you know?”

  “Another perk of having access to your personnel files.”

  “I kind of like having you as my boss.”

  “Well, your file didn’t say whether you have a passport or not.”

  “A passport? Where are you taking me?” she asked.

  “Does that mean you have one?”

  Reina nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  “Good.” My family owned a home in Bermuda that was one of my favorite places in the world. I couldn’t wait to take Reina there. “I’m dying to see you in a bikini.”

  She gave me a playful swat. “You’ve already seen me in much less.”

  “I forget already, you might have to show—”

  A trading assistant interrupted. “Reina, there’s someone here to see you.”

  Reina turned. “Me?”

  I sighed. “To be continued.”

  “Yes.” The assistant looked at the note in her hand. “A Celeste Van Horne. Should I instruct the front desk to send her up?”

  Reina

  Celeste emerged from the elevator in tailored jeans and a crisp white button-down shirt, wearing a butter-wouldn’t-dare-to-melt-in-my-mouth smile. She was the epitome of everything I’d wanted to be as a teenager—not just beautiful, but confident and polished. It had taken me years to craft a veneer that even slightly resembled hers. Nervous, I stuck my hand out. “Hi, Celeste, I’m Reina.”

  Celeste laughed, opening her arms. “Never mind that. Come here, sis.”

  I returned her embrace tentatively, half afraid that if I squeezed too hard she would vanish into thin air. Meeting my sister—the one that didn’t hate me—was too good to be true. But hugging her was like embracing a unicorn. Having already asked Tristan if we could use his office, I led her there on wobbly legs.

  “I’m really sorry to just show up here while you’re at work. But I couldn’t wait any longer, especially knowing Wendy and Bryce had already met you.” She sat on the couch and dropped her bag on the floor, sighing dramatically. “Typical baby-of-the-family whining, I guess.” She gave me a curious look. “Wait a minute, are you older or younger than me? Am I a middle child now?”

  A nervous giggle passed between us as I took a seat beside her. “I think you can maintain your youngest child status, no worries.”

  She grinned. “Phew, it’s my only claim to fame within the Van Horne clan. I didn’t enter the business, I’m not on TV, and I don’t play professional sports. Being the most overlooked is all I’ve got.”

  Sitting across from Celeste felt like an out-of-body experience. I’d never expected to meet my siblings, let alone adore two of the three. “Something tells me you don’t get overlooked very often.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  Nothing surprised me anymore, not after the past twenty-four hours. But I wasn’t going to argue.

  “So.” She looked around. “This is weird, right?”

  I cracked a smile. “So weird.”

  And then we laughed, this time long and hard, reaching for the box of tissues on the cocktail table to wipe at our eyes.

  Celeste got a hold of herself first, but only because she blew her nose so loudly that I dissolved into another fit. I loved that she wasn’t as prim and proper and perfect as she looked, or as I’d imagined. None of them were, really. Wendy was kind of a hard-ass, but I admired her for clashing with her father, and having no compunctions about using his influence if it worked to her advantage. Bryce was unexpectedly cool, didn’t take himself too seriously, and wanted nothing to do with the world his father ruled. I was looking forward to getting to know Celeste, and already I could envision us becoming friends.

  “So, how long have you known about us?” Celeste asked.

  Jeez, how to answer that? “You want the long boring version or the quick and easy answer?”

  She looked upward out of the corner of her eye, thinking. “You have something in between?”

  I launched into the story of how I learned that her father was also my father, sharing only the relevant bits and leaving out things like being dumped by my own mother via Post-it. Some pieces of my story were too intimate to share with someone I’d just met, even if we were related.

  “I can’t believe you knew about us for so long. Didn’t you want to meet us?”

  To my surprise, disappointment edged Celeste’s voice. “I-I never thought of it like that,” I stammered. “Meeting you was never an option. Your father didn’t want me to screw up his life. And I didn’t want to upset my mom, or the man who raised me as his daughter. In the wedding photos, you all looked so happy. I guess I just didn’t want to intrude.”

  Celeste reached out to take my hand. “It was all an act. The three of us were furious he left my mom to marry a woman we’d known for about five minutes. It’s probably a good thing we had a few years to grow up before meeting each other.”

  I attempted a grateful half-smile. “Well, I consoled myself by thinking you were all spoiled brats.” It was the truth. When I wasn’t actively ignoring their existence, I pretended that they were a bunch of rich snobs I wouldn’t like anyway. It turns out, I’d been wrong about a lot of things. Rejecting Celeste before meeting her was just another line item to add to the list.

  She giggled. “We have our moments, I’m sure. Although believe it or not, my mom managed to keep us pretty grounded.” Celeste paused. “Sort of, anyway. Wendy’s been a lost cause since birth.”

  I shared the story of meeting Wendy a couple of weeks back and she nodded in understanding. “Yep, textbook Wendy. But don’t worry about her. Her soon-to-be ex is having a baby with his girlfriend, and Wendy’s taking it pretty hard. She’ll come around.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but decided to keep my doubts to myself.

  Celeste tilted her head. “If my father hadn’t made last night’s announcement a command performance, she would have learned about you via conference call. He sent the plane for her to make sure she showed.”

  “I guess I rate, huh?”

  “That you do. Now,” she settled into the couch cushions as if gearing up for a major gossip session. “Tell me about Tristan.”

  Confusion knitted my brows. “Haven’t you known him your whole life? You probably know more about Tristan than I do.”

  “You’re right.” She flashed an impish smile. “Tell me about you and Tristan.”

  I took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. “What’s there to say? He’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever known.”

  “You love him.” It was a statement, not a question.

  I answered anyway. “Yes. I always thought ‘Crazy in Love’ was just an expression, or a song.” I looked beyond the glass door, my eyes falling immediately on Tristan. Drinking in his presence like warm mulled cider. Even just a small sip warmed my blood, and I had to shake my head to restore my focus on Celeste. Maybe he was crazy to love me, but I didn’t care anymore. “Crazy love. Apparently it’s a thing.”

  “I’m glad. To me, Tristan will always be the kid who dared Bryce to jump off the roof of our house.”

  “Oh no, did he get hurt?”

  “Nope. Bryce landed on the pink bouncy castle that was being set up for my seventh birthday. He ripped a hole in it and I cried the whole party.”

  I giggled.

  Celeste groaned. “Yes, I know, I’m still holding a grudge against my brother and his best friend for ruining my birthday party fifte
en years ago. Maybe there’s something to your spoiled brat theory, after all.”

  “No worries, I think I can give you a pass on that one.”

  Celeste flashed a bright smile and stood, picking up her bag. “I should let you get back to work.”

  The lump in my throat appeared out of nowhere. “Oh. Okay.”

  She laughed. “I said I’d let you go back to work, not let you out of my life. I finally have a sister I like—I’m not going to let you get away from me.”

  This time I initiated the hug. “Sounds good to me.” Now that I’d met her, I doubted there were many people on earth who wouldn’t want to be a part of Celeste Van Horne’s life.

  My eyes met Tristan’s as I walked Celeste back to the elevator. For the first time, I realized that something good might just come out of the shady past I’d kept hidden my whole life.

  Maybe more than one thing.

  Hallefuckinglujah.

  EPILOGUE

  @BettencourtBets: Welcome to the new BettencourtBets! Worthy charities will b featured weekly & contributions matched 100%. We’re betting on you!

  Reina

  Turns out I wasn’t exactly broken. More like dilapidated. The walls I’d built around my heart, using what I thought were iron bolts and impenetrable plates of steel, turned out to be nothing more than wobbly panels of poster board, held together with scotch tape, tacky glue, and the occasional sticker.

  Falling for Tristan Bettencourt IV had scared the bejeezus out of me. It’s no wonder, really. He’d crushed all my rigged-up defenses like the Big Bad Wolf did to the straw houses of the Little Pigs. Except that Tristan wasn’t bad. He was the best man I’d ever known.

  A few months ago, all I’d wanted was a job on Wall Street, had considered personal relationships a threat to my single-minded pursuit of career success. Catching sight of the Bettencourt logo on Tristan’s wall had been horrifying. . . . And finding myself face-to-face with him on the first day of my dream job had been even worse. I thought kissing Tristan had been the biggest mistake of my life, one I’d compounded by going home with him.