In Bed with the Devil: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance

by Tia Siren

  I tried desperately to pay attention during meetings that day, to ask questions and really listen to what was being said, but by the third one, my mind was drifting off somewhere else. Of course, the first thing on my mind was Ava. I had her phone number now, and it was eating away at me. All I thought about all day was picking up my phone and calling her, hearing her voice, trying to really talk to her about what had happened with us. I fought myself on it, staring down at her number on the screen and coming up with a million reasons to press send. Still, one reason not to call stood out more than all the ones to call, the reason I knew she wouldn’t want to hear from me: the family feud. She had absolutely no interest in engaging with me any further than the meeting I had arranged with the modeling agency. Even then, she hadn’t been interested in hearing me out, though I had learned a lot about our families’ history during that meeting.

  The things she had talked about haunted me now, and it was extremely confusing. She had so many claims against my father, claims I wasn’t sure could actually be true. Who knew? Maybe I didn’t want them to be true, and that was why I was denying them. I was in the perfect place to figure it all out, though, and finally put it to rest. I had full reign of our computer systems, but the files I would be looking for would be in the basement filing room because they were over ten years old.

  I excused myself, letting the secretary know I would be gone for about an hour, and headed downstairs to check it out. I could pull up my father’s purchasing history, and there would almost certainly be a file from the Spencer Hotels case. He kept immaculate records, almost to a fault sometimes, but that was a good thing since this particular transaction was key to me reconnecting with Ava and possibly ending this feud once and for all. When I got to the room, I scanned the cabinets until I found the year I was looking for. I opened up the files and scanned through them, finding a Spencer Hotels one shoved in the back. I pulled it out and sat down at the table before opening it up and pulling out the pages. The first sheet showed my father’s and her father’s partnering interests about a year before we had first slept together.

  I remembered that merger because our parents had celebrated together, had been excited for the future of the two hotel chains. I rummaged through more files, coming to an envelope at the back. I pulled out the folded paper inside and looked at it. It was a legal document giving my father the right to sell off pieces of Spencer Hotels, and it was dated shortly after Ava and I had slept together. The problem with it was that the handwriting was most definitely not Ava’s father’s, and it was roughly scratched in. The documents were forged. I sat back in my chair and stared at the paper, pulling other contracts out and comparing the handwriting. I couldn’t believe it. My father had actually done it. He had destroyed Spencer Hotels, and from the date, it matched perfectly what Ava had told me. He’d sold off a man’s company in spite, doing so piece by piece to the lowest bidder and dispersing the funds into separate accounts so he wouldn’t be legally liable to pay him for them.

  I was completely beside myself. My father’s deception and moral reprehensibility were far beyond anything I could have imagined. When he’d been done, he had filed it away like it was any other transaction, going about his life, acting like he’d never destroyed the Spencers’ business. He’d made a story up about how businesses sometimes went bankrupt like that and blamed our family feud on Ava’s mother. My whole young adult life was predicated on the idea that the business world was volatile and rough. All I had to do was look at Spencer Hotels to see that. Turns out it was only volatile because of men like my father, who were hell-bent on destroying other people. I grabbed my phone and dialed Ava’s number, needing to see her right away. I didn’t think she was ever going to answer, but by the third call, she finally picked up.

  “What, Mason? Sheesh,” she said with irritation. “I’m in the middle of something. You could have just left a message.”

  “I need to see you. It’s really important,” I said. “I know I’m the last person you want to see, but I’m asking you to reconsider. No tricks, no secret places, just me and you sitting down and talking. It’s really important, and you know I wouldn’t call unless it was.”

  “How do I know that?” she said. “From the shady way you got me to talk to you last time?”

  “I know,” I said. “I know it was stupid of me, but I’m serious this time. I need to talk to you in person.”

  “Mason, I know you think your life is so simple, so everyone else’s should be, too, but that isn’t the case,” she said. “I actually have things going on in my life, like finals for school that I pay for on my own. I have plans with my parents, who need to see me and talk to me on a regular basis because I’m pretty much all they have left. I have a job. I can’t drop what I’m doing and run to you when you call.”

  “What about tonight when I get off work?” I asked. “You can come to my penthouse, and we can sit down and talk. I promise no tricks, nothing more than you and me sitting down across the table from each other and talking.”

  “Why are you so frantic to see me?” she asked. “For the last ten years, you haven’t tried to contact me once. Is it because I turned you down, and no one turns down Mason York? Well, I have news for you: I’m not some silly little girl anymore, blinded by charming smiles and sweet words. I know your game, Mason, and I don’t need it in my life. I don’t want it in my life.”

  “I understand what you’re saying,” I said calmly. “I just need you to look beyond that for a moment and hear me out. I promise what I have to say is really important, urgent, and you’ll want to hear it.”

  “Why can’t you just tell me over the phone?”

  “I don’t want to take the chance of someone overhearing me,” I said. “I have something you’ll really want to know about.”

  “Even if I wanted to sit down with you, I can’t,” she said. “I have modeling gigs every night for the next few nights. Someone found out you hired me, and now the agency is getting all kinds of calls.”

  “I wonder how that happened,” I said.

  She scoffed. “My agent probably told them. He knew if he circulated the rumor, people would jump on it, thinking you were actually using me for your hotel chain advertisement. They think I’ll be the next hot model, which is absolutely not true. It’s kind of annoying, though I’m making enough to cover my tuition for the remainder of my time in school, so I’m not going to be too upset with him.”

  “Well, what about Friday night? Can you come meet me then?” I said. “I wouldn’t be begging you like this if it weren’t absolutely necessary. You know I’m not the kind of guy who begs. This isn’t about me and you. It’s about our families.”

  “Ugh,” she said. “I can try to swing it on Friday. I have a study group during the day and nothing booked as of now with the agency, but if they offer it, I’m going to take it. It’s my job.”

  “I understand,” I said. “I can even meet you at a shoot if you want me to, though I’d rather do this in private.”

  “No,” she said. “The last thing I need is for you to show up at one of my gigs. There’s already a quiet rumor from the mattress store. I’m trying to keep this from my parents, not rub it in their faces.”

  “I completely understand. To be honest, right now, I’d really rather not have my father know about us meeting either. I understand now why it would cause such a huge problem for him,” I said.

  “Now I’m really curious what has you all tied up in knots.” She chuckled. “It’s kind of amusing to see you this way, actually.”

  “I’m glad I can be here for your amusement,” I said dryly.

  “Anyway, I have to go,” she said. “I’ll let you know about Friday later on this week. And please, unless it’s an emergency where you’re on fire, don’t call me. The last thing I need is to be with my parents and have your number pop up on the screen.”

  “Right,” I said, about to say something sweet, but she hung up before I could.

  I took the file
over to the copier and made copies of every page and slipped them into a manila envelope. I put the file back so no one would notice I had pulled it out and then went back up to my office. My father was at lunch, so I had at least a good hour or two until I was called back into meetings. I sat back in my chair and thought about the conversation between Ava and me. She was so angry at me all the time, but I had somehow talked her into possibly seeing me on Friday night. I knew this information would calm her down, and that was important because I wanted to be able to sit and talk with her without it turning into a fight. I wasn’t sure whether to feel accomplished or defeated for forcing her to make time in her schedule.

  Ava obviously didn’t like me and was trying to stay away, but there was no denying the passion that still lingered between us. She was incredibly hard to read and even harder to crack. All I could do at this point was sit back and wait, hoping she would come around.

  Chapter 16

  Ava

  “Don’t forget, people, it may be nearing the end of the semester, but you still have your final project to turn in,” my professor shouted as we all started gathering our things.

  My life had been a constant rush. Between school and all the new work coming in, I was starting to get exhausted. I jogged out of the classroom and out to my car in the parking area, knowing I only had about twenty minutes to get to that night’s modeling gig. All I really wanted to do was go home and take a nap. The night before, tonight, and tomorrow night were all the same gig. There was a new restaurant opening in Manhattan, a place that resembled the kind of bar from the twenties with singers on the stage, cocktail waitresses in scandalous clothing, and rich men with cigars in their jacket pockets. I was a cocktail waitress at the thing, and though the pay was good and tips were pretty awesome, I hated working in the service industry.

  I’d had a waitressing job when I was sixteen at a diner in Brooklyn before we’d moved from Manhattan. I’d wanted to earn my own wages for a while, and my father had liked how I did it all on my own. It was the pits, and I seriously had major respect for those in the industry. The work for this gig was not the usual pose for pictures. It was running drinks, taking orders, and entertaining the rich men who wanted to get a little grabby the later the evening ran. It was only for the opening celebration, but it felt like the longest stretch of time ever.

  I hurried into the restaurant and to the staging area, where I got dressed in the short black dress and heels and sat down in the makeup chair. I technically wasn’t late, but I was definitely later than all the other girls. I just wanted to get through the event and move on. When I was done with hair and makeup, I picked up my tray, pen, and paper and headed out to the floor. The guys were starting to get there, and there was a sultry blonde on the stage singing softly in the background.

  “Hey there, sexy,” a tall, sleazy-looking guy said.

  “Can I get you something?” I said with a fake smile.

  “I can think of a few things you can get me,” he said, chuckling. “What’s your name?”

  “Ava.” I was trying valiantly to hold a smile.

  “Well, Ava, what’s on special tonight?”

  “Everything is on special for the opening,” I said, still forcing a smile.

  “How about you run along and grab me a Dewar’s Black on the rocks.”

  I turned and rolled my eyes before walking to the bar and putting in the order. I could feel him in the distance staring holes into my ass. I hated guys like him with his over-gelled hair, perfectly pressed ten-grand suit, and strong cologne. It was obvious he was rich. They didn’t let anyone else in the place, and he was incredibly pretentious. When were they going to figure out that just because they were rich, it didn’t mean they could have whatever they wanted, especially when it came to women? He was just like Mason, only more outward about his cockiness. I couldn’t believe women fell for shit like that, but then again, I wasn’t the kind of woman who was interested in his money.

  I collected his drink and took a deep breath before walking back over to him. He was staring at me with a cocky look on his face, his eyes roaming over my body. It was taking everything in me not to knee him in the balls.

  “Do you want it on your tab?” I asked sweetly.

  “No.” He smiled. “Here’s a fifty. Keep the change.”

  “Thank you,” I said, getting ready to turn around.

  “You’re very sexy,” he said, licking his lips. “What do you say we slip into the back for a little while? No one will miss you, and you can come out with an even wider smile than before.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m working right now.” I was careful to turn before rolling my eyes again.

  “That’s all right,” he said, trailing his finger down my arm. “I know the owner of this place, and I don’t think he would mind one bit—unless, of course, he’s already partaking in the specialties of the help.”

  “Do you really talk to people this way?”

  “It’s never failed me before.” He smiled. “Come on, I won’t take too long.”

  “I told you I’m working,” I said. “So if there’s nothing else I can get you, you have a good evening.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said, grabbing my arm. “I’m not done talking to you. I have an idea, something that will slow you down. I’ll buy out your contract, and then you and I can go have some fun.”

  I scoffed. “You couldn’t afford me.”

  “You want to bet?” He laughed. “You have no idea who I am. My father is the owner of one of the biggest banks in the world. If you want to talk about money, I have more than you could ever imagine in that little head of yours.”

  “Is that right?” I said. “Is my little woman brain too small to comprehend daddy’s money?”

  “It seems that it is,” he said, getting irritated with me. “I can have what I want when I want it, and you, little girl, are just a small drop in my day, someone I might even forget as quickly as the guy scrubbing the toilet at my house.”

  I stood there staring at this guy, thinking about how much I wanted to hit him square in that smug little mouth of his. How dare he treat me like I was nothing because I was doing a job at the club he was frequenting? How dare he offend me based on the fact that I was a woman? Then it hit me. I knew exactly why his face looked familiar. It had been splashed across the tabloids at least a hundred times. This guy was a complete and total sleazeball, and if I remembered correctly, all his damn friends were assholes too.

  My mind flicked through memories of glancing down at the papers while waiting for my coffee at my favorite stand. That was it. His name was John Hurst, a notorious playboy always doing something he should get in trouble for but always using his name and his father’s clout to get himself out of it. He was into technology stuff but worked for his father in the New York offices. This guy was almost worse than Mason and the Yorks. At least Mason seemed to try to keep himself off the radar when it came to the media. It was like this guy jumped in front of the paparazzi every time he saw them. He liked the attention—attention I did not have the time or desire to give him at the moment.

  John Hurst’s father was the owner of Hurst Financials, a banking and investment company that spanned the globe. They had their fingers dipped into everything from government contracts to the stock market. They were known for turning a little money into a lot in a short amount of time, even though their tactics usually sat in the gray area of the legal system. His father was a company crusher like Mr. York. He would force out small businesses and sell off the pieces, leaving space for his clients with big corporate dollars. He was the slime of the business community, and it was written all over his son’s face. When I’d gone to law school, I’d known that one day, my chase for the Yorks would be over. I would have to find something else to occupy my time, so I’d made a list.

  Every huge corporation with either ties to the York family or their own shady dealings went on my list, and I was determined to screw them over like they had so many other people. Hurst
Financials was on that list, and it was pretty damn close to the top. People like them disgusted me, and I hated watching as they blew through communities, killing the little guy and putting in the next Hurst Financial building right in the center of town. This was the sort of thing that reminded me why I was becoming a lawyer.

  “Look, Mr. Hurst,” I said smugly. “If you can’t handle your liquor, I can make sure they serve you water for the rest of the night. I can put a pretty pink straw in it and some fruit if it will make you feel better.”

  “You have a smart mouth on you.” He tightened his grip and pulled me closer. “You think you’re so cute with that little outfit on. You would be a lot cuter with my cock between those ruby-painted lips. At least then I wouldn’t have to hear your smartass remarks. And I see you know who I am, which doesn’t surprise me. Most people do.”

  “You need to leave me alone,” I said, pulling away from him. “Or I’ll have security escort you out. My agency would love to hear about how you accosted me in the middle of a restaurant. I’m sure the tabloids would love to hear about that, too. You seem to have a standing column on the books.”

  “Hey, hey.” He laughed, putting his hands up. “We’re just having a nice little conversation. There’s no need to get so upset.”

  It was obvious he was wasted. He was swaying back and forth, blinking a lot, and sweating like a pig. At least half of his drink was already on the ground from him talking with his hands, and he smelled like a mixture of Dior cologne and whiskey.

  “You should lighten up a little,” he said. “Me and you could have a lot of fun together if you weren’t so uptight.”

  “I really doubt that,” I said.

  “You, ma’am, are no fun,” he slurred before turning and walking away.