She's Mine: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance

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She's Mine: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance Page 7

by Kira Blakely


  “You don’t believe me, right? For your information, I just watched him go into the private room of a very, very tasty morsel in a fashionable suit. He didn’t see me watching but I saw him when I came down to meet you and the kids. He’s got more than one pussy twirling on his dick-go-round. So, if you think you’ll get help from him, you’ve got another one coming. He won’t give up a paying customer like me for the likes of you. He didn’t do it years ago, and he won’t do it again.”

  How does he know?

  “You lay one more hand on me and I’ll file charges of sexual assault against you, Ripley. Don’t think I won’t. I may not be a big deal around here like you, but I’m a hometown gal and I know people. You’ll be lucky to leave here alive.”

  The kids were quiet, and I glanced at them quickly and saw their mouths agape at what I was saying to their father. They were both smart enough to realize that I was on the offense and they’d not heard that from me prior to then. In fact, I was managing to intimidate myself a little at the same time.

  I turned my back to him while he was still in stunned mode and motioned the kids to the shore. They marched without a single word of argument. I gathered our beach things and pointed toward Utopia. They just kept on going. I never looked back. I was too afraid of what I might see.

  My stomach was churning. Was Ripley lying about seeing Brayden with another woman in her room? He’d just talked to me, just spent time with me. Why would he do that? Was he pathological and couldn’t help himself? I had no way of knowing but I did know that he was capable of doing what Ripley had suggested. I’d seen him do it before. There I was, just like back in high school. I wanted to sleep with him but had this little girl view of the world that said it would be naughty and I’d get caught. I was no longer sixteen, though, and there was no one to catch me. I was only accountable to myself. Not even Stephanie had to know.

  That reminded me of the time and I began walking faster, urging the kids ahead of me. I didn’t hear a word from them and there was no sound of Ripley behind me. I hope he drowns. He deserved it. I could still feel the sting his fingernail had left on the soft inner flesh of my pussy. I wanted to vomit all over the sand. Instead, I pulled out my phone and dialed room service. I ordered two lunch trays brought up for the kids and hung up. “When we get back, you two are having lunch in your rooms and then taking a nap. If you’re good and do as you’re told, I’ll have a surprise for you later this evening.”

  I didn’t specify the nature of the surprise and they didn’t ask. I think they were both a little in shock of my behavior. I wondered if I’d put my hands around Ripley’s neck and held him under the water, whether either of the kids would have come to try to stop me. I doubted it. Their entire family was eaten with selfish greed and manipulation of one another to get what they wanted. Ripley’s death would have only left Bernadette to contend with. It would have been the two of them against one. I didn’t doubt they hadn’t thought that through at some point. I knew I had.

  We got back into the Utopia and I kept one hand on the herd I was moving upstairs. They never said a word and once we reached their floor, they went silently and immediately into their suite and I went into my room. I felt frozen, in shock, unsure where I stood or what my options were. Had Brayden betrayed me once again?

  I’d been sexually assaulted by my boss. It was obvious that was the beginning of the end.

  With all the beauty around me—the elegant room, its furnishing, the beautiful view from the balcony and the happiness that spewed from the visitors—I still felt dead inside.

  I heard room service knock at the Bonhams’ door and peeked out long enough to make sure someone answered. I knew Bernadette was home and heard her twangy voice at their door, so I closed mine and set about getting ready for lunch.

  * * *

  I found Stephanie in the tea room waiting for me. If I hugged her a little too long, it was because I needed someone to hold onto me for a minute. My head was swimming from the events at the beach, and I had no idea where I was going to be once I returned upstairs and Ripley had come back. He was capable, and likely, to say anything that made him look good and me look bad.

  I sat down and sipped the iced tea she had waiting for me. “What is it?” she asked without the preamble of niceties most conversations involved.

  “I hate my job,” I said simply.

  “We all do from time to time. You had to get out of college and into the real world eventually. Well, this is it, little sister. Get used to it.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “That big sister thing you do to me. Please, I know you mean well, but I’m at the bottom of my luck barrel and I just can’t take much more interference right now.”

  “Jesus! You’ve got it bad. This is more than your job. Tell me what’s got you so worked up?”

  I was saved by the waiter coming for our order and when he left, I tore the paper off a fresh straw and stabbed my ice cubes. “I just got felt up by my boss.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the actual extent of his assault.

  “Whaaaaat?” She sat up, alarmed. “Where is this guy?”

  “Back down, sister dear. I can handle it. He’s just a weasel with too much money and too little brain. Anyway, it’s just a temporary job until I get my website up and running. I’m done working for someone else,” I told her with some degree of confidence—I hoped.

  “So, what brought you home in the first place?”

  I told her of the Cleveland fiasco and my finding the nanny job on the message boards. I was pretty sure I’d told her this before but Steph had a way of asking me the same question multiple times, as if she was trying to catch me in a lie. I had no idea what there was to lie about but it seemed to feed the mother part of her.

  “I won’t say it.” She waved her hand and tucked her linen napkin onto her blue gingham-covered lap. She looked cool and fresh in a sea of red-faced, perspiring tourists. I was proud of her.

  “Please don’t.” I really didn’t want to hear any more criticism than I was already leveling against myself.

  “There you are!” came a strident voice behind us. I turned and there stood Bernadette, the kids like matching Dobermans standing on either side of her. “You’re supposed to be watching the kids!”

  I felt my face flush in deep embarrassment. “I ordered lunch for them and came down here to have my own,” I tried to explain and wanted to cut my own tongue out. I knew Steph was taking it all in.

  “You’re not at liberty to have lunch whenever and wherever you like without asking permission first,” she squealed in a loud voice that called people to stare. I wanted to die where I was sitting.

  “Dougie, Katie, pull a chair out here at the table and have a seat. As soon as I’ve finished, I’ll take you up for the nap you were supposed to be taking.” I couldn’t look at Bernadette or I knew I’d lose it and claw her eyes out. If it weren’t for the fact that my bank balance was overdrawn, I’d have finished her off with a fork pinning that hideous hair to the carpet. The kids knew it was a pivotal moment and kept their silence. For once, I was proud of them, even if I deliberately misinterpreted their behavior.

  “If you’re putting them down for a nap, keep it quiet. I’m going up to lie down and I don’t want to tell you twice to do your job. You’re on a thin rope, my girl,” Bernadette finished off the embarrassing scene as she turned and left.

  “Whew!” exhaled Steph. “Don’t say another word. I get what you’ve got going on, and I’m not piling on. How do you stand it?”

  I nodded slightly and pointed to the kids with my eyes and signaled Steph to hold back. I didn’t need any more trouble. My options were null at the moment.

  Steph ignored me. “I mean, where does that bitch get off talking to you like that?” Her voice was raised, and she began pushing her chair back. I knew where she was headed and grabbed her skirt.

  “Sit down and be quiet, please? Don’t add to the mess? Please, Steph? C’
mon. Sit down and tell me about your job. Do you have a good customer following? Are you happy? Dating anyone? You look super, by the way.”

  The only way to back Steph off was to re-direct the attention on her. I knew this trick because it had worked since we were little girls. It was sort of perverse, feeding her ego, but it worked. At that moment, I needed some pressure off. But, I was out of luck.

  “Well, well, look who I’ve found.” I looked up to see Brayden towering over me. He was smiling like a Cheshire cat. I was trying to remember if I was mad at him or whether I’d decided to overlook the possibility that he was seeing other women while flirting with me again. I was too confused and tired to care at that moment. If it could get worse, it did. Collin stood at his side.

  “Hello,” I said, keeping it simple. I needn’t have worried. Steph’s attention had moved away from championing me to feeding on Collin’s good looks. From all appearances, he didn’t mind the attention one bit.

  Brayden put a hand on my shoulder and leaned low to whisper an invitation to drinks later. I forced myself not to tense. Anxiety was beginning to escalate my reactions to even the most mundane contact. His hand made me shudder, but it wasn’t in a bad way. Not at all. A sword of desire entered where he touched me and shot downward. I felt overcome and looked downward so he couldn’t see the tears in my eyes. Between Ripley’s assault and my suspicions about Brayden, I could feel myself drawing inward.

  I nodded to Brayden, and his hand brushed my cheek in a caress. The kids were wide-eyed, having just witnessed their father’s advances on me. Clearly, they had no idea what was going on and what was allowable.

  Collin had pulled an empty chair from an adjoining table to sit next to Steph. They were deep in conversation, and I could tell by the hysterically silly quality of Steph’s laugh that she was on a flirting high. Collin’s hand was on her arm, drawing an imaginary line from her wrist to her upper arm. Even from my seat, I could see her goosebumps. Why can’t I let my guard down like she does?

  I pushed my chair back. “I’m sorry, Steph, but I have to get these kids upstairs for a nap.”

  She barely looked up. Her face was glowing and Collin was equally involved. I felt as though I was interfering. “I’ll see you later,” I said quietly and dropped money on the table as I herded the children out of the tea room.

  Brayden followed us. “Is everything okay?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. I don’t suppose it was that hard to tell that I was upset about something. He just wasn’t sure what.

  “Yes.” I stopped in my tracks. “No, it isn’t, I won’t lie.”

  “What is it?” His hand came forward and latched onto my arm.

  I pushed him away. “I don’t know, Brayden. I just don’t know. Look, I have to get these kids upstairs. Bernadette just dressed me down in front of everyone in the tea room, and Ripley is putting moves on me.”

  “Whaaaaat?” His face flushed and the muscle in his jaw began to jerk. I’d seen that look before, many years earlier. He’d been confronted by another football player in the hallway at school. He couldn’t risk expulsion then, and he couldn’t risk a scene now. I gave him a knowing look and turned to enter the elevator. As the doors were closing, I saw him standing, his stance wide, and a very angry look on his face.

  Dougie and Katie were silent as the elevator rose to their floor. I was grateful and it felt as though we’d struck a pact between us. Perhaps the kids weren’t innately as bad as I’d thought. Maybe it was their parents’ opinions and insinuations I was seeing. It didn’t matter. The whole thing was a royal mess.

  I wanted to believe that Ripley was lying and that Brayden’s possible association with someone was innocent. Everything that came out of Ripley’s mouth was foul or lies. I trusted Brayden more than I trusted Ripley; there was that.

  The doors parted and the kids headed toward their rooms. I saw them through to their individual rooms and told them to nap and I’d see them a little later. I headed for my own room; I needed a nap probably more than they did.

  I washed my face and ran a brush through my hair. The stimulation of the bristles felt good against my scalp. It was a self-nurturing action and made me feel better. I’d expected Steph to be a little outraged at what I’d confessed but I hadn’t expected her to drop the entire matter when Collin showed up at the table. She was fickler than I’d realized.

  I pulled back the comforter spread and puffed up the pillows. Sliding off my slacks, I laid down on the bed in a t-shirt and panties and flipped off the light. I’d left the drapes closed earlier and the dimness was comforting. I was just drifting off when there was a sharp rap on the door. I got up and peered through the peep hole. It was Ripley.

  “I’m napping. What did you need?”

  “Open the door,” he blurted in a voice that told me he’d been drinking. I peered out the hole again and could see him wavering on his feet, a glass with what was probably whiskey in his hand. “Open up!” he shouted and beat on the door with his fist.

  I began to panic. Swinging around, I grabbed my slacks from the chair and quickly slipped into them. When I turned around, my door was open and Ripley was watching me dress. I hadn’t even heard him use his key card to my room.

  “Please leave.” I made sure my words were clear and authoritative. I wanted no misunderstanding.

  “No.”

  In one of those insane moments when you’re in trouble and you can’t focus on it, I almost laughed as I realized Ripley looked like one of those children’s punching bags, weighted clowns. His feet were stiff, and he seemed to wave as though standing in a high wind.

  I tried to push past him, to get into the hall so we weren’t in a locked room together. His fingers slid into the waist of my slacks, holding me back and pulling me against him and his rigid penis. It wasn’t that he was well-endowed, but that he’d pulled me against his groin and there was no mistaking the hard bulge I felt. “Ripley, let me go!”

  “No.”

  “Get your filthy hands off me, you conceited asshole!” I screamed as loudly as I could and dragged him with me into the hallway where I knew security cameras were monitoring 24/7.

  Their suite door opened, and Bernadette stood in the doorway. She had a sleep mask pushed up over her forehead, so it was obvious she’d been napping. “What’s going on here?” she demanded, frowning and crossing her arms.

  “Your husband is trying to rape me!” I shouted. I was past reason, past caution and most of all, no longer afraid of what was sure to happen.

  “She’s lying, of course,” Ripley muttered half-heartedly. He knew Bernadette would do nothing; she never had.

  “Fire her.” Bernadette had become judge and jury and the verdict was in.

  With a half-smile across his drunken face, he sputtered, “You’re fired. Pack your things and be out in a half hour.” He seemed satisfied with his power and headed toward Bernadette, who backed up and let him in. As he passed her, he lifted her blouse to reveal she was naked beneath. “I came up to join you in your nap,” he told her and she smiled.

  “I know…” She nodded and the door shut behind them.

  I threw my hands into the air. I had no idea where I was going to go or what I was going to live on. Maybe the YWCA had a bunk for me? I supposed I could sell my laptop. I pulled out my luggage and piled the clothes into them, not bothering to fold or even sort the dirty from the clean. I saved out a soft cotton skirt and t-shirt top that matched, but otherwise, it all went in, willy nilly. I threw my toothbrush on top and zipped it shut.

  Dragging it all down the hallway, I stabbed at the elevator button and heard a noise behind me. I turned to see Dougie and Katie standing in their doorway, their hands in the air as a goodbye wave. In that moment, I felt pity for them. It didn’t last long. I stepped into the elevator and between tears, I took a deep breath of relief.

  When I reached the lobby, I went to the counter and asked if they could hang on to my luggage while I went to look for Brayden. Agreeably, they too
k it and put it in their office and then pointed to his office. On my way to see him, I peeked into the tea room, but Steph had already gone. I felt sad and lonely.

  I tapped on Brayden’s office door but he was already in the process of opening it. Evidently, the front desk had announced me. He pulled me by the hand into his office and shut the door. Wrapping his arms around me, he pushed my head against his chest, his hand at the back of my head. He held me like that while I sobbed into his chest, my makeup staining his crisp, white shirt.

  He backed up and pulled me onto his lap as he fell backward on the sofa. “Shhhh…” he whispered. “Cry it out and then tell me what’s happened.”

  “You have to ask?” I stuttered in my sobs.

  “Not really, but I thought you might want to talk about it.”

  “He fired me. That dickhead on an asshole had the nerve to fire me.”

  “That’s pretty much what I knew was coming. If it’s any comfort, you’re not the first and you won’t be the last. Let me guess. He put the moves on you?”

  I nodded, burying my misery against his muscular chest. At that moment, I didn’t care if he’d been with another woman or was even married. I needed him and he was there for me. I didn’t want to tell him the extent of Ripley’s offenses—I had a feeling Brayden wouldn’t be able to overlook it. He didn’t need the trouble, and there was certainly nothing for me to salvage from the situation.

  It felt so good to be in his arms, to be comforted and coddled. I’d never had that before. I’d never realized Brayden was even capable of that kind of empathy. I knew I liked it.

  His hand went to my chin and lifted it, turning it toward himself. He kissed me. Softly. With warm sensitivity. His index finger petted beneath my chin and the other hand held my head firmly so I couldn’t pull away. I had no intention of pulling away, ever.

  “Okay, got it out?” he asked me in a tone of resolution.

 

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