He yanked his tie loose, trying to find more air. Focus on the problem at hand.
He’d only managed to come up with one solution to ensure he could remain part of Waverley’s life full time—marriage. It was logical. If they were married, he’d see his child every day. Waverley would have both her parents full time. And Margo? She’d have someone else to share the sometimes burden of parenthood. Everything would work out easier, clearly a win-win situation for them all.
“You never said why you needed the money, not really, and this solves that problem as well,” he pointed out.
If someone asked him a month ago if he’d be willing to negotiate hard to convince someone to marry him, he would’ve laughed his ass off. For one, he wasn’t sure he was ready for that sort of commitment. Secondly, he’d always pictured it being something like what his parents had—a relationship based on friendship, mutual respect, and most importantly love. That sort of thing didn’t usually require convincing the other partner to agree. For three, he was Aiden Kelley—if nothing else, his name should’ve paved his way down the aisle when he finally got around to proposing to someone.
Instead, Margo rolled her eyes and re-crossed her legs in the opposite direction—a tell that she wasn’t comfortable with their discussion, either. “Ignoring for a second the fact that I want a bit more money to secure the future of our child, I will point out to you that we do not love each other. No amount of money is going to magically change that. Last I heard, love, or at least a good dose of like, was required before you got married to someone. In regard to the money, it doesn’t really matter why I want it, does it? Pretending the money is leverage in this conversation is not only insulting to me, it is proof that you’re grasping at straws.”
“Love is something people in our position can’t afford, Margo,” he pointed out. “We share a child. The right thing to do is for us to get married and provide her the life she deserves.”
“Bullshit.” Her lips twisted in an expression he was familiar with from her movies. In her characters, it generally meant she was drawing a hard line. He had a feeling it meant the same thing in real life. “How is getting into a relationship that would make us both miserable an act based in the best interest of Waverley? I don’t know about you, but I’ve always thought it was a crock when people tried to say they got or stayed married for the sake of the kids. You want to do the kid a favor? Show them what real love is. Model that so that they grow up to demand nothing less for themselves. That is good parenting, not showing her how two people can survive being miserable for years.”
She leaned forward, tapping his desk in obvious irritation as she seemed to warm up to her topic. “Love is something everyone deserves, and I’m not willing to sell myself short. This proposal is coming about ten years too late, Aiden. Back when we were together—for that brief shining moment that I thought we actually might have something—maybe I would’ve bought it if you professed your love and devotion to me. Probably I wouldn’t have, even then, but I’ll give you a definite maybe. As I said, though…ten years too late for that discussion to even make a bit of sense.”
He tried to be reasonable, thinking through reasons that it would benefit the actress, but instead found himself touching the earpiece. Chelsea’s voice wasn’t there—and based on the elevator interaction, it wouldn’t be there…maybe ever again. He needed to focus on Margo, but his chest was tight, and he kept thinking about Chelsea.
The way she’d laughed with carefree abandon when he’d been disgusted by the cat. The way she’d sighed when he touched her. The look on her face when he’d woken her with a kiss…
He tried to focus on the topic at hand. Which was kind of important, as it might frame the rest of his life. “Marriage is an institution meant to solidify the family unit. The only reasonable thing for us to do, since the paternity test came back proving I am Waverley’s father, is to get married.” He wasn’t sure why he was insisting on it either, but it seemed like the right thing to do. He also tried, for a second, to imagine waking up next to Margo every morning.
He came up blank, but he supposed they’d have separate bedrooms. That was how a lot of powerful couples did it, after all, ensuring a good night’s rest for each and only coming together to couple in a carnal sense when they desired it.
Intimacy, from his experience, was something saved for either the poor or the gullible. He wasn’t gullible, and a relationship with Margo would offer them both clear benefit.
He took the earpiece out and dropped it on the desk, hoping that removing it would make him stop fantasizing that Chelsea might change her mind and stay. He told her to leave and was proposing marriage to another woman. Surely, he wasn’t demented enough to think she’d put up with that and stick around.
But he really wanted her to change her mind. To revoke her request to quit and say she’d stay with him because she wanted to be there, not just because he’d asked her to stay. He knew she said she was going to leave, had told him so since before his life exploded with the Waverley situation, but he just hadn’t believed she’d do it. They were a team…
Margo didn’t even pretend to smile as she interrupted his dismal thoughts. “If I wanted to legitimize our relationship, don’t you think I would’ve told you about her sooner? Look, I’m going to be really upfront and forthright with you, Aiden.”
“That’s a change of pace,” he mumbled snidely.
“Do you have to mumble?” the model asked. He jerked, shocked to hear those words from her. Had his Chelsea rubbed off on him that much? Was he talking to himself, now?
“I wanted Waverley. I didn’t care about what you wanted or needed ten years ago, and maybe that was greedy of me, but I still can’t picture you wanting her like I did,” Margo admitted. “Was that wrong? Yes, and I’m sorry, but I can’t undo the choices I made back then. What I can do is agree to share her with you now, if that is sincerely what you want. What I cannot do is pretend that I think getting married will be a good thing for me, you, or her. You don’t want to be married to me, and Waverley wouldn’t want us pretending otherwise.”
“How would I know what Waverley wants? I only just got to meet her.” He practically snarled the words, angry at himself for again attacking her but angrier with them both for not being able to wave a magic wand over the whole situation and make it pretty.
“Look, I think you already know her more than you’re admitting to yourself. She said you guys were having a great trip and that you had some really good moments. She likes you, Aiden, something I never thought was possible. And, in part, from what she said, this is due to your assistant.” Margo’s smile was slow and almost feline, and he realized she knew she was scoring a hit with that sentence based on it alone.
“Leave Chelsea out of this. We’re discussing us, not her.”
Twining her fingertips together in her lap, Margo sat back and considered him for a moment. The experience made him feel uncomfortably like a bug under the microscope. “From what Waverley said, Chelsea and you seemed to be really close.”
“Again, not discussing her. I’m discussing us.”
“There is no us, Aiden. There is me and Waverley. There is you and Waverley.” Margo’s jaw set, as if she’d stated unchangeable facts.
“But there could be an us,” he said slowly and softly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Waverley needs a father.” What he didn’t say but thought was, she needs me.
Margo stood, straightening her skirt. “You’re right. For years, I denied it, and again, that was probably greedy of me. But she does need you, and I think you need her.”
He stood as well, holding his hand out. “Finally, something we agree on. So when would you like to meet to set up the wedding arrangements?”
Margo’s lips curled in a smirk, but she didn’t shake his proffered hand. “I agreed that she needs a father, not that we needed to get married. She needs a father. So be her dad.”
Without another word, Margo left. Frustrated, Aiden p
unched his desk and then turned to face the bank of windows behind him. He was alone again—as usual. It never really bothered him to be alone before, but then again…Chelsea was always there. Literally, she was the voice in his ear. When the company was in trouble, Chelsea was there. When he was upset about something, Chelsea was there. For years, she’d been his friend and companion, yet now…when he was more unstable emotionally than ever, she was gone.
So…
No problem. He’d just call her. He picked up the earpiece and tapped it once, which should activate her earpiece. “Chelsea?”
“Chels?”
Nothing but static.
He threw the damned thing down on his desk and grabbed his personal cell phone. Whatever, if she’d removed her earpiece—something she never did before they said good night, normally—he could just call her. He dialed her number from memory, too impatient to scroll through his favorites to find her. Her line rang three times before going to voicemail. Frustrated, he pitched the phone. It hit the mahogany cradle of the globe, denting the wood and cracking the screen of the phone. “Dammit,” he hissed, flopping into his chair. The reality of the situation hit him hard. He didn’t know why to expect she’d be there, other than…well, she was always there.
“Dammit, Chelsea, why aren’t we together?”
She wasn’t there to call him out for talking to himself.
…
Chelsea
She gave up on the idea of working for him again about as soon as she considered it. She couldn’t face him, day in day out, knowing what they’d shared and dreaming up possible happy ever afters into infinity. Besides, if he married Margo, was she really going to sit across the desk from him daily? Knowing he didn’t love her but he’d married her anyway? Wondering if she had a model-shaped ass print on her desk? Wondering if he told Margo to kneel…
No, those thoughts led down a dark and twisty path she wasn’t willing to travel. Better to put it all out of her mind. Better to go on with her life and try to forget she’d ever met Aiden Kelley, not to mention shared anything with him above and beyond a business relationship.
Which was what landed her on the brass-lined elevator that shot toward the penthouse of one of the tallest buildings in the city. The wavering reflection in amber showed her looking calm, professional, and otherwise ready to go to work. Previously, they implied they would hire her, and she could go on about her life as if that whole Aiden Kelley fiasco never happened.
The doors dinged, and she crossed the marble floor to the desk where a receptionist waited. “I have a two o’clock appointment?”
“You’re applying for the executive assistant administrative position?” the woman asked in a nasal voice.
“Yes, I am,” she replied.
“One door down, take a seat in the waiting room. Someone will be in to review your resumé with you shortly.” The woman pointed down a short hallway, so Chelsea headed that general direction. She found the waiting room and took a seat next to a girl who looked hardly old enough to be out of high school.
“Are you applying for the assistant job?” the girl asked. She smelled strongly of cheap perfume, and her outfit of jeans and a sweater didn’t bode well for her interview.
“Yes,” Chelsea answered.
“Me too. I’m, like, totally not qualified,” the girl admitted. “My name is Leigh. I gotta admit, I only took this interview in hopes to get to see him. Do you think we’ll get to meet him? If we do, I’m totally gonna ask for his autograph.”
Chelsea opened and closed her mouth before biting her lip. Finally, she managed, “Do you mean Mr. James?”
“Yeah, like, oh em gee, am I right?”
Chelsea sat back in her seat and unlocked her phone in an attempt to curb further conversation. The girl, however, didn’t feel the need to give up with so flimsy a barrier. She continued to rattle off the wonders of Mr. James and about twenty more OMGs before a guy in his mid-thirties joined them. The guy also took a seat and glanced at the clock on the wall. “I was almost late,” he stated unnecessarily. “I’m so nervous. Aren’t you terrified?”
Leigh admitted she was indeed OMG terrified, while Chelsea shrugged. She had met Mr. James before, so she had a hard time being scared. If he didn’t hire her, she’d try someplace else. Besides, it was a job. Working for an employer who she wouldn’t sleep with.
One who likely would be a lot easier to deal with than Aiden had been. Not a lot to fear, there.
“Hello, hello, people. You’re here to apply for the assistant job, and from what I understand, I have about fifteen minutes for each of you.” Camden James swept into the room, not looking at any of them but instead focused on his tablet. “Looks like we have too young, possibly the new hire, and…”
His gaze lifted from the tablet and zeroed in on Chelsea. “Chelsea Houston. This is interesting. I’ll see you first. Follow me.”
“OMG, why did he pick her first? Should I ask for his autograph now?” Leigh bubbled as Chelsea got up and followed Mr. James into his office.
“I don’t know,” answered the guy. “But I bet you five dollars you’re the one he just proclaimed too young, honey.”
Seating herself across from Camden, Chelsea couldn’t help but notice the stellar view he had of the city—including the Kelley Enterprises building down the road. Clearing her throat, she said, “Pleasure to see you again, Mr. James.”
“Just to be clear, I can’t hire you, so you can drop the formality now, Chelsea.” Camden steepled his fingers, looking at her with his lips twisted in an expression of consideration. “Although, I would love to hear why you’re here instead of in Kelley’s office.”
She stood and turned to leave. “Sorry for wasting your time,” she began.
“Oh, sit down. I already messaged Jeanie that you’re here, and she’ll want to say hello. We haven’t seen you since the Christmas party Kelley threw when he was trying to get us to agree to the campaign.” Camden tapped his fingertips together until she sat with a huff of air.
“You could at least say why you can’t hire me. I do recall you saying that if I ever decided to work someplace else, I should apply to you before I went anywhere else.” She crossed her legs and glared at the billionaire. “Something about my ability to not kiss ass was refreshing, if I remember correctly?”
“Yeah, well, that was before my pal Aiden messaged me that I shouldn’t hire you as you were still under contract with him and on paid leave of absence. Which, by the way, has me very curious as to what is going on between the two of you.” Camden raised his brows, the same brilliant speculation which managed to make him a mogul clear in his gaze. “Now, be a good girl and spill.”
“You’re not harassing her, are you? Because I’ll hire her just to spite Aiden if I’m given even the slightest reason to believe he’s in the wrong.” Jeanie James, Camden’s wife, swept into the room, looking as gorgeous as always. Her sleek blond hair fell in perfect curls around her lovely face, only accentuating her warm smile. The woman had a grace about her and an easy friendliness that Chelsea always found refreshing. Why the woman chose to marry a man like Camden James was simply beyond Chelsea’s understanding. She seemed kind and open-hearted, while her husband was a well-known shark among sharks.
“You should hire me. I can’t work for Aiden anymore, and if he thinks he can keep others from hiring me, I’ll move. Be a pal, Jeanie, and help me get out of Kelley Enterprises,” Chelsea urged, only half joking.
“Look, don’t turn the wife against me. She’s already annoyed that I didn’t let Lowe dicker for more money when we closed the Kelley campaign.” Camden didn’t look worried in the least, contrary to his words, and he rose to wrap a possessive arm around his bride. The way he laid a gentle hand on her stomach made Chelsea wonder if they were expecting a new member of the family.
“He could’ve,” Jeanie agreed. “But ever since we got married, he’s a big softie.”
The Penthouse Prince whispered something in his wife’s ear t
hat made her blush, and their whole demeanor made Chelsea tear up. Is this what we could’ve been like? If things had been different…
“Hey, you’re looking bummed, and I’m sure it isn’t my fault, but Jeanie will say it was. Tell Papa Cam all about it, and I’ll go beat up Aiden for you. His face is too pretty for a man anyway,” Camden said, coming quickly to her side.
“Nothing. It is stupid, and I’m a fool, and again, I’m sorry for wasting your time.” Again, Chelsea stood to leave, but Jeanie caught her arm.
“You got involved with him, didn’t you?” Jeanie asked.
The tears spilled over, although Chelsea was working so hard to keep them in. “No. Ridiculous. What kind of dumb assistant gets involved with her boss?” The last came out in a warble, and she sniffed hard to try to regain her self-control.
“She got involved with him,” Camden said. “No wonder he doesn’t want me to hire her.”
“Oh, hush, Cam. Go deal with your other applicants. We’re going to have a nice girl-to-girl talk.” Jeanie waved one of the most powerful men in the United States out of the room as if he were no more than an annoying puppy.
The man in question sighed deeply. “But I wanna hear what happened,” he whined.
“Scram,” his wife reiterated.
Camden left the room in a huff, and Chelsea used the tissue Jeanie provided to wipe at her nose. “I didn’t get involved with him. I can admit to nothing of the sort. There would be a huge scandal if I’d done something that foolish…” Another sob choked her, and she wanted so badly to confess it all and ask someone else what to do.
But that was the problem with being an adult. Life didn’t come with a manual, and no one else had the answers you needed.
“Look, you don’t have to admit anything to me,” Jeanie said, perching on the end of the desk. “But let me tell you a little-known story about how I met Camden and how inappropriately I behaved, then you can decide if you want to tell me about your problems. Sound fair?”
The Irish Prince (The Billionaire Dynasties) Page 12