Privileged

by Stevens, Madison

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Author Bio

  Also By

  Privileged

  by

  Madison Stevens

  For Emma Archer, college isn’t about freedom. It also isn’t about getting a degree to make money. She wants no part of the world of wealth that could be hers by birthright. For her, college is about the chance to put in her dues and land a coveted position at a publishing company, a chance to make something of herself through her own efforts.

  Gavin Locke’s arrival changes all of that. The brooding, devilishly handsome brother of her best friend seems determined to destroy her careful control and plans. Already wounded by past emotional betrayal, Emma doesn’t want to be the victim of a man who represents everything she is trying to flee. She’ll have to navigate the struggle of her pride and heart or face a future of both personal and professional failure.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents depicted in this work are of the author’s imagination or have been used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locations, or events is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright 2013 Madison Stevens

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Chapter One

  You know that moment in life when you realize that your parents aren’t always going to be there to catch you when you fall? Most people experience this just after their parents drop them off at college. Finally, they can be a free independent person ready to take on the world. For me it was at eight, just a bit earlier. Not quite the same feeling.

  My parents split, irreconcilable differences. Dad said he wanted to invest more time into his career as an oh-so-important chief thoracic surgeon. Mom wanted to finally sink herself into something meaningful. Like her career as a fashion photographer. Silly me for thinking I might actually be meaningful.

  So there I was. Eight years old and alone in the world. Oh, sure I had a string of housekeepers and nannies, but I quickly found that if you have to pay someone, there is really no such thing as forever. Then there was Gran with her endless love and warm cookies, but with school, our visits were always limited to the summer. Of course, I lived it up like I was never going back to the grind I called life. Warm summer nights filled with the sweet smell of honeysuckle and a crackling bonfire. Lying on a blanket just to stare at the stars and wondering what the future would hold.

  Not that I seemed to have much of a choice. According to Dad, I was going to climb the surgeon ladder like he had and his father before him. My mom looked forward to the day when we’d be working side by side. Abby Archer and her daughter, Emma, storming the world, one model at a time.

  To say I benefitted from their hard work would be an understatement. There was no question that I had grown up in a house of privilege. Best schools. Best clothes. They had even gone out of their way to make sure I had the best friends.

  All of that led me to my current predicament, as I tripped over discarded bottles, various articles of clothing and even the occasional person.

  I strolled through my best friend’s house, which looked more like a post-drunken party hostel than the vast grounds I had always known. Funny how some people handle their moment of independence. Grace got hers a day early when her parents decided to hop a cruise instead of driving us to our new dorm.

  “Grace Locke.” I banged on the double doors in front of me. “I swear to God you’d better be ready to go.”

  Without a thought, I threw open the doors. Grace sat up, dropping the sheet from her bare chest. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen her naked, but it was always so shocking. Her thin willowy frame put just about any woman to shame. Her honey blonde hair spilled over her breasts as if she were on a shoot rather than just waking up from a wild night.

  As much as I loved my friend, seeing her like this sparked jealousy. Over all, I wasn’t really bad looking, but next to Grace, just about everyone looked like a hobo. Of course, it didn’t help that I’m on the shorter side with small breasts, and calling me graceful is almost comical. I will admit, on a good day, my hair can really rock it. Long and chestnut, the rich tones drew out my cheekbones and the pale blue in my eyes. What can I say? You can’t be a photographer’s daughter without noticing things like this.

  My attention shifted to the other side of the bed. You’d think that Grace and her man would have an ounce of shame, but no, Chance’s golden, chiseled rump was out for all the world to see.

  I could see him peeking at me from his pillow, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Hey, Em.” His husky morning voice sent a chill through me.

  “Oh shit!” Grace shot out of bed and raced to throw on some clothes. “Just five minutes.”

  I rolled my eyes. Five minutes my ass. The day anything took her five minutes, I’d sprout wings and learn to fly.

  “Just hurry up,” I said and slammed the doors.

  “So does my sister know you like to stare at her boyfriend’s ass, Emma?” someone said from behind me.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin and spun to confront the owner of the voice, Gavin.

  It had been a few years since I’d last seen him. He’d been the one heading off to college, and it hadn’t really been my best moment. He was the Locke family’s golden child who would assume his role as chairman of the family’s chain of hospitals, a role he would fill well. He’d certainly gone out of his way to make it known that no one would stand in his way. His time in prep school had proved this. Cross him and you paid the price. Student and teacher alike.

  I took a deep breath and steeled my nerves. He had grown taller and seemed to have filled out in all the ways that really made him a man. His t-shirt was sculpted to his muscles, and I was almost shocked to see him wearing a pair of jeans. Actually, I couldn’t ever remember seeing him in a pair, well, ever.

  Gavin shifted under my sharp gaze.

  “Please,” I said and pushed past him. “She loves putting him on display.”

  As if on cue, a squeal came from behind the closed doors. Great, add another hour to the plan. I stomped down the stairs and made my way to the kitchen. Might as well eat.

  Surprisingly, it was the one room of the house they hadn’t destroyed. I snorted. Likely none of them had even the slightest idea what to do in there.

  I stooped to look under the island as Gavin slid onto the stool next to me. It hadn’t really been my intent for him to follow, but it wasn’t really like I could tell him to take a hike in his own house.

  I set to work in silence. I loved their kitchen. For people who never did any of their own cooking, it was surprising they spared no expense when it came to their equipment. Likely the person who designed the place was a foodie and just incorporated it into the plan.

  After a few moments of rummaging through the fridge, I started to pull out the breakfast staples. When I reached the pantry, my eyes fell on a nice loaf of French brea
d. I picked it up. The light hint of yeast hit me, and I knew French toast was the only acceptable way to use this bread.

  Gavin walked around the island, his face a mask of fascination as I sliced the bread and whipped up the eggs. Half I poured into a pan with chives and cheese. The other half got spices and vanilla added. The griddle heated on the stove. It hissed and popped as I dropped the soaked bread onto it.

  “You really know what you’re doing.” Gavin leaned in over my shoulder. His breath tickled the dark hair around my face.

  “I should hope so. I’ve been doing this for years,” I said. Trying not to let his nearness bother me, I focused on the bread and egg, flipping and stirring when needed.

  “Anything I can do?” He touched my arm, and I flinched. Without thinking, my hand shot forward and rammed the hot cast-iron pan.

  “Ow! Shit!” I flipped all the bread onto the plate and turned off the flame.

  When I turned around he was leaning into me, pulling my hand away from my stomach.

  “Here.” He pulled me forward and push me down onto the stool. “Let me take a look at it.”

  He gently examined the red puckered skin. It wasn’t terrible, but blisters were already starting to form. It was going to hurt like hell soon.

  “Wait here,” he said. He tucked my hand back on my knee and raced from the room.

  I stared in amazement. This was new. Sure, Gavin had always been one of the best-looking guys I knew. Light brown hair, strong features, built and even smart, but for some reason this didn’t seem like the Gavin I knew. No, the Gavin I knew wasn’t kind. He did what he needed to in order to work his way to the top. That didn’t include treating minor burns.

  When he came back into the room, I blinked away my confusion and followed his sure movements. He set a small box on the counter next to me and went to work finding what he needed. Again, he picked up my hand and turned the blister around in his hand. The ointment he produced did help, and the relief was hard to hide. A small smile appeared in corner of his mouth at my audible sigh.

  “I didn’t mean to make you jump back there,” he said as he continued his ministrations, taking great care as he wrapped the tender skin along the side of my palm and pinky. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve watched someone cook. Carlota won’t let me in here any more.”

  “Oh?” I said as I watched his fingers dance across my hand. “Why is that?”

  “She says I fluster the staff and flirt too much.” My attention shot up to his moss green eyes.

  My brow hitched up in question. “And do you?”

  He looked down at my hand and gave a smug smile. I rolled my eyes. Yup, Carlota was right.

  “There you are!” A leggy blonde appeared in the door. The t-shirt she wore only just reached just past her panties. Her hair was rumpled but nothing like the rat’s nest I was treated to when I first got up in the morning. Gavin jumped back and dropped my had like he had been burned. The sting as it hit my leg caused me to hiss.

  He looked back at me, and I hardened myself. Whatever moment we shared was gone. This was the person I always knew him to be. Always Mr. Social. I recognized Ms. Leggy Blonde as the latest model featured on the cover of one of Gavin’s mother’s fashion magazine and cringed. For a moment I thought we might be interesting together, the thought almost made me gag.

  “O-M-G! Are you Abby Archer’s daughter? I’m right aren’t I?” Ms. Legs raced over to me and yanked me into an overzealous hug. “I can’t believe that we could be so lucky to find each other like this,” she shrieked in my ear.

  I shot Gavin a plea for help, but he leaned back against the wall and just smiled. The urge to flip him off won, and I felt some satisfaction at his surprise.

  “Your mother is amazing!” She pulled back but kept her hands firmly on my shoulder. Trapped with no way out.

  “Yeah, she’s something…” What was I going to say? Last time we’d talked she’d practically planned out my college path, and I’d done the complete opposite of what she wanted. Then she’d tried to push me in the path of ‘appropriate young men,’ which, of course, really meant men with appropriate-sized bank accounts and family standing.

  “Oh, you’ll have to tell her that you met with Megan Sutherland.” She bounced again in front of me and grasped my hand. “I’m just sure she’ll remember me. I have great legs, she said.”

  Megan turned around and winked at Gavin, who looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

  “I’ll be sure to let her know,” I said, patting her hand. “But I’m afraid that unless you have the right equipment, it’s going to be hard to get very far with her.”

  I spun around to the plate of French toast and snatched up a piece.

  “Excuse me?” The poor girl couldn’t have been any more clueless, and I had to shove the toast in my mouth, so I wouldn’t laugh out loud.

  Gavin made a choked sound, and I turned to watch him as he distracted Megan.

  “Maybe we should go back upstairs and get your luggage,” he murmured into her ear.

  Megan let out a high giggle and bounced toward to door.

  “It was nice to meet you…” Megan drifted off, clearly trying to remember my name. I snorted. “Don’t forget to mention me to your mother. Megan Sutherland.”

  “Sure,” I said dryly. Yup, right after I finished scrubbing every men’s bathroom at every seedy dive.

  With that, she was gone. A high-pitched giggle trailed down the stairs.

  Gavin walked over to the counter and leaned in to reach behind me. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the soft notes of citrus that clung to him. It nearly made me laugh. Such a fresh clean smell for someone who was most decidedly not.

  As he shifted back around, my eyes popped open to find him staring at me.

  “You’ve changed,” he said as he munched on a piece of toast.

  “I should hope so,” I said. I could feel the heat creeping onto my cheeks.

  I watched as his gaze swept over my body. Goose bumps prickled the skin as I held back a shiver. Something about the way he looked at me stripped me bare.

  “No.” He grinned. “Well maybe, but I don’t remember you being so…” He paused and frowned slightly, as if looking for the right words.

  I knew what he meant. I was different. Two years was a long time. It was the difference between being a naïve girl and jaded woman. I was well on my way to the latter.

  “Sometimes life can give us the best lessons,” I said coldly. My fists clenched at my sides as I reigned in my warring emotions.

  Gavin opened his mouth like he had more to say but was cut off by the loud clamor of Grace and Chance.

  “Breakfast!” Grace danced into the room, moving like a naughty ballerina with Chance not far behind. The two scrambled over to load their plates with French toast and eggs.

  By the time I looked back, Gavin had made his way to the door.

  “I’ll see you later,” he said, looking directly at me. He pounded up the stairs.

  I turned back to Grace and folded my arms over my chest.

  “Five minutes, hmm?”

  At least she had the decency to look embarrassed. Chance, on the other hand, grinned from ear to ear.

  “We got distracted,” he said in between bites.

  “By what? How bouncy the bed is?” I rolled my eyes.

  “Oh, Emma,” Grace moaned. “This is so flipping good.”

  I smiled slightly. They were good. They always were. It was hard to go wrong with something so simple, but it didn’t hurt that Gran had pushed me to learn.

  “Hurry up and eat,” I said and pulled my keys out of my pocket. “We’ve still got an hour drive and boxes to unload.”

  I started to walk to the door but stopped and turned to look at them.

  “And let’s make sure to avoid the bedroom on the way out.”

  When I started toward the door, I heard Grace huff at my comment. I chuckled. This was going to be a fun year.

  Chapter Two

/>   The car ride had been utterly uneventful. It took a bit of maneuvering to fit all three of us and the boxes of crap Grace insisted on bringing. Why she thought she needed her equestrian trophies, I’ll never know.

  “Em! Can you believe this place?” Grace raced to meet me at the door. This was about the fifth time she’d asked this.

  “It’s pretty amazing,” I said rather unenthusiastically. We had been lucky enough to get a suite with an actual sitting room, a private bathroom, two bedrooms and a kitchen. It was a luxury suite, and I was positive that the latest endowment from her parents had more to do with us getting it than its intended purpose, to draw in the top of the top students, another strategy in the never-ending arms race of elite recruitment

  In the end, it was nothing like Gran’s house and as nice as it was, I missed her house. One year and I’d be free to move into my real home.

  A frown marred Grace’s pretty face. “You don’t sound very happy,” she said.

  I sighed. She was one step away from stomping on the floor, and the last thing anyone wanted was to see Grace throw a fit.

  “No, it’s really amazing. I’m just beat,” I said, adding a small smile at the end. “Your mom must have really pulled some strings to get us this place.”

  Grace snorted. “More like she pulled out the checkbook.”

  She walked quietly around the room, pulling out random things from the boxes I had littering the floor.

  “I still feel really bad about it.” I slumped to the floor and started sorting through my many books.

  “Don’t. She’s happy to do it, and we both know she’s happy keeping your mom happy.” Grace caught my eye as we shared a knowing look. My mother might not have as much money, but she certainly controlled her little part of the world. I couldn’t decide what was worse. That she had left me on my own for a job or that she was actually good at it.

  I have to say, there was more than a small part of me that wanted to see her fall flat on her ass. At this point, did it really make a difference?

  I slammed a few more books onto the shelf, irritated with myself and how much it all still bothered me.