I had shoved the file in my purse before we left, because, at this point, I’m out of options. Simon’s extremely smart, so if there’s anything to be deciphered from my dad’s case, Simon will figure it out.
“Okay, girlfriend. I’ve sugared you up, gave you caffeine and ice cream, and even let you walk around in those hideous yoga pants. Time to spill.”
My spoon stops mid-way to my mouth just as I was about to devour another spoonful. “Hideous?”
“Well, they aren’t exactly attractive.”
I shrug, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. “Good thing I’ve turned lesbian. Girls dig yoga pants.”
He rolls his eyes and laughs at my dramatic speech. “You couldn’t be a lesbian if you tried. You enjoy dick too much.”
I spit the ice cream out, shocked at his words. “Simon!”
“You and Cora think you talk quietly at lunch when you discuss your little girl shit. I can hear every word,” he confesses.
“Oh, my god, that’s so embarrassing.” My face heats at the thought of Simon hearing all the juicy details from last year when I dated Jason. “No, I’m erasing this whole conversation out of my head. Never happened.”
“Whatever you say, sweet bottom.”
I gasp loudly as my eyes dramatically bulge out of my head at the words he just said. Sweet bottom.
“I so hate you right now. I cannot believe you heard all that last year.”
“Every word, baby,” he taunts.
Sweet bottom was Jason’s nickname for me. At the time, I thought it was cute, but now I cringe just hearing it aloud.
For the next hour, I tell Simon everything about my internship at Leighton Enterprises. I leave Bentley out of it, but I explain how I applied, interviewed, and used Casey’s transcripts to get inside. He was both impressed and worried about me, knowing the serious repercussions if I were to get caught.
“You are insane. Seriously.”
I also describe the dreams and flashbacks about my dad. I tell him everything I remember about that day, and how my mother never seemed bothered that it ended up a cold case.
“Wow…that’s intense, Celia.”
I tilt my head toward him, silently begging him to understand my reasoning. “Simon, I need your help.”
“You know I can’t say no.”
I smirk. “I know.”
I spread out some of the papers that I want him to take a closer look at—the evidence, the background history of his job, and his financials.
“What exactly are you hoping to do, Celia?”
I shrug, feeling hopeless. “I just need to know, Simon. I know my mother is hiding secrets from me. She won’t tell me anything. She hid that piece of paper about Samuel Anderson on it. I need to know that my dad was a good person and that whoever did this gets the justice they deserve. I know I’m in over my head, okay. I’m not that crazy. But I can’t just walk away. I have to at least try.
* * *
Hours go by and eventually, I fall asleep on Simon’s bed. When I wake up, he’s curled up on the other end with papers in his lap. I notice the energy drink in one hand as he holds a piece of paper in the other.
I glance over to his clock on the dresser. It’s after 4AM.
“You’re still up?”
“Yeah,” he says excitedly. I adjust myself on his bed, sitting upright. From the looks of it, he’s completely wired.
“Read anything good?”
“Celia…this is all good stuff. Like, I think I’m finally figuring it out.”
“Figuring what out?”
“Your dad’s finances—they’re all over the place. One month he deposits thousands of dollars, the next he’s in the negative. For someone with a steady job and salary, it doesn’t add up.”
“So what’s that mean?”
“Well, it explains why your mom and dad were fighting about money, why your mom was hysterical about the money he spent.”
“So you think it has something to do with his death? Like maybe he owed someone a lot of money and he couldn’t pay them back?” My heart begins racing as I try to put the pieces together.
“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s too soon to know for sure. There’s a lot more in this file I have to go through yet.”
“But what if does have to do with money. I mean, we live in a nice neighborhood, and always had nice things. We lived on one salary and yet never went without.”
“Perhaps there’s a reason for that.” He looks at me sympathetically, silently telling me what I’ve feared this whole time—my dad wasn’t a good guy.
Bentley
The last thing I was prepared for was Ceci leaving me—again. I wasn’t sure if she was upset about my parents coming in or if it was something else.
Having my parents bring up Hannah’s name again stirred my emotions up. It’s not something I enjoy thinking about.
The very girl who screwed me—over and over again. I believed every word she said to me, every word laced with lies and deceit.
I was fresh out of graduate school when I started working exclusively at Leighton Enterprises. Saying goodbye to my modeling career, my father slowly taught me things throughout my college years. It wasn’t until I had my master’s degree that he finally gave me access to all the files and confidential information. Information news reporters and magazines would do anything to get their hands on during a big story.
Enter Hannah Whitman. Twenty-two year old college graduate from Penn State. Education major with dreams of teaching first graders. Sweet, sexy, and full of complete shit.
Enter the real Hannah Whitman AKA Hannah Winters. Twenty-five year old post-graduate student in journalism.
I’ve been known to think with my cock before my head. Shit, it happens. Especially, when beautiful, young girls throw themselves at you. Especially, when you’re a high-profile model with nothing to lose.
She made a fool of me. I let her in—too close. She stole all of my files and sold them to another company. They were later recognized for solving the case. Not only did they report on it for months after—my mistake constantly shoved in my face—but it almost ruined Leighton Enterprises. New security measures were taken and the battle of taking Hannah to court began—still in the process of making her pay for all that, but more than likely, she’ll make a plea bargain.
It’s been hard to let anyone in after that. I went back to one-nighters and emotionless sex—that was until I met Ceci.
I curse the second I realize she’s left. I text her how sorry I am and beg her to come back and talk with me. I know she’s humiliated, but my parents are the last thing we need to worry about right now. As long as no one in my office finds out, we’re in the clear until her internship is over, and then I don’t fucking care who knows.
I’ve called her thirty-six times in the past six days. No answer. I’ve emailed nine times. No response.
Nothing.
By Friday, I can barely take it. I don’t know if she’ll show up for her internship on Saturday. I don’t know if she’ll ever talk to me again, and I hardly understand why.
I’m filled with so much rage, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand seeing her without slamming her against my desk and fucking her until she comes to her senses. I wouldn’t even stop if my own mother walked in.
I’m agitated the entire day. I snap at everyone who tries to speak to me. Even my own secretary flipped me off when I told her where to shove that piece of shit stapler.
I need to see her. I can’t wait another fucking night. It’s killing me. I don’t know what she’s doing, what she must be thinking or who the hell she could be with.
I dig into her intern application and find her home address. If she’s going to insist on hiding from me, I’m just going to have to find her.
* * *
After showering and getting dressed, I head out. I anticipate she’ll be pissed, but I don’t care. I’m not letting her walk away without giving me answers first.
I pull up to
her house and notice it’s in a nice neighborhood, mainly filled with families and children. I begin sweating nervously, unsure if I should get out or not. This isn’t where I expected a college-aged student to live with a household of roommates. Perhaps they were renting from a family or she was living with hers?
I wipe my hands on my jeans and get out. I walk to the front and knock firmly on the door. My nerves eat at me until a young woman opens the door, her eyes bulge out of her face as she scans my body.
“Good evening, I’m sorry to bother you—”
“Yes.” She licks her lips seductively. “Whatever you’re selling, I’ll take it.” Her lips form a flirtatious grin.
I grin and stifle a laugh before responding. “Um, sorry I’m not selling anything. I’m actually just looking for someone. Ceci? Ceci West. Does she live here?”
Her smile instantly drops and she frowns. “Ceci?” Her eyebrows rise in question. “Sorry, she’s not here.”
I exhale, disappointed. I shift uncomfortably before asking, “Do you know where she is? Or when she’ll be back?”
She cocks a hip. “Who are you? And what do you want with my little sister?”
“Little sister?” My eyebrows narrow. “Like a sorority?”
She laughs. “No…like I’m her big sister.” She puts her hand out in front of me. “I’m Casey West. It’s nice to meet you—”
My body tenses. No, freezes. Hell, I don’t know what the fuck it does, but I’m stunned shocked. My body’s autopilot takes over as I grab her hand in mine and shake hers.
“Casey, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Bentley.”
“Pleasure’s all mine.” She continues her seductive tone. “I can let her know you stopped by. She’s hanging with Simon tonight. She’ll probably get in late, but I can—”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just, um, catch up with her later.” I nod pleasantly and make my way back to my car.
I can’t control the emotions flooding in as I take in what I just learned.
Casey.
Shit.
It’s not even her fucking name!
And who the hell is Simon?
My mother’s words reluctantly re-enter my mind… Make sure she isn’t another Hannah.
Fuck.
* * *
The End of Volume Two
###
Volume Three
Blurb
I should’ve known.
I should’ve listened to my gut.
But I didn’t.
I listened with the wrong head.
And where did it get me?
Secrets.
Lies.
Deceit.
She embodied them all.
Deceived her way into my company.
Lied about who she was.
Kept secrets from me after convincing me I could trust her.
Those walls she tore down are back up in full force.
Cold.
Angry.
Unforgiving.
She was no longer my intern.
She was no longer mine.
Part One
Chapter One
Bentley
Make sure she isn’t another Hannah.
WHY DID MY mother have to be right? Right about her. Ceci. That isn’t even her goddamn name.
Emotions flood my mind the moment I get back behind the wheel. Hearing her sister as she says her name—her name—is like a knife slicing right down my spine. Rage, lust, and confusion all ripple through me.
How? Why…
So many questions, but no answers.
I slam my fourth shot and sit back in my office chair as I think about how to deal with this situation. How did this become my life? How did I let one girl consume me so much that I fucking missed what was right in front of me?
West.
I should’ve known.
I flip the file in front of me: West, #178376.
Brock West (36). Male. Insurance broker.
Husband to Claire West.
Father to Casey (14), Cecilia (11), and Nathan (2).
Son-of-a-bitch.
Cecilia West. Ceci.
How did I miss this? I look down at my cock and know. She consumed me. Took every rational thought and made me give her the benefit of the doubt.
I curse and slam another shot as I read over my father’s old case notes. I haven’t looked into this case before. It was filed under cold cases long before I arrived. But knowing what it did to my father at the time, I thought if I could come up with any new information, he’d be proud. Or at least it’d give him some closure on the whole thing.
Case notes in the file that have been sitting on my desk when she was here last week. Wasn’t it obvious? She got what she wanted and fucking bailed.
I’m onto her little scheme.
I’m not about to let her win. Not again. Not like Hannah.
I’m still hung over by the time I arrive to work early Saturday morning. But it doesn’t matter. I won’t be here long today. Just long enough to watch Ceci leave.
Or rather…escorted.
“Erika, I need security on standby.” I beep through to my assistant who’s just down the hallway. “Please let me know when Miss West arrives.”
“Of course, Mr. Leighton.”
Forget pissed off. I’m raging with steam coming out of both ears. I’ve cracked my damn knuckles so many times, they’ve turned white. My face feels flush and my whole body is heated with anger. I don’t think I’ve ever been this mad before in my entire life—not when my father told me to quit modeling, not when Hannah dug her dirty, scheming little fingers under my skin, and not even when some asshole drove drunk into my brand new Lexus. Nope. This tops everything.
“She’s walking in, sir.”
“Thank you. Have security ready in exactly five minutes.”
Show time.
“Good morning, Mr. Leighton.” She walks in with a bright, wide smile holding my bold, dark coffee. She struts over in her off-white pencil skirt and navy blue top. Her hair is wildly wrapped into a top bun. She looks more disheveled than she’s ever been.
“Rough night?” I raise an eyebrow, eyeing over her outfit.
“Just woke up late. My apologies. My alarm didn’t go off.” She sets the coffee down in front of me and steps back, her hands laying flat in front of her as she waits for her itinerary.
I should make her do something awful, something mind-numbingly degrading—the same way she’s made me feel. She’s degraded my entire company, treated it as a playground for her to use as she pleases.
“I guess that’s what happens when you stay at someone else’s house the night before you have to be to work the next morning.” I grab my coffee and bring it to my lips. I notice her shocked expression as she takes in my words.
“What are you talking about?” She swallows hard, trying to remain calm.
“Simon, is it? That’s where you were last night,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Are you stalking me now? You have no right—”
I raise my hand, cutting her off. I stand up and quickly round my desk. She stares at me intently as I walk behind her. I press her back to my chest, gripping her shoulders and securing her in place.
I lower my lips and whisper against her ear, “You’re just like the rest.” I keep my hold on her, feeling her body shiver against me. I rub both hands down her arms and grip her wrists. “It’s a shame.”
“Bentley, please. You’re freaking me out,” she pleads, her chest pumping up and down. “What are you talking about?”
I spin her body around so we’re facing each other. I cup her jaw firmly in my hand and grip her hip firmly with my other hand.
I lower my face to hers, just grazing her lips. Her breath hitches.
“You’re a goddamn liar. Whoever the fuck you are.” I clench my hand around her hip tighter. “At least I found out now before you took my company to the cleaners.”
“I-Is this about last week—”
I forc
e a finger over her lips as she stumbles backward. I don’t want to hear anymore fucking lies. I don’t care anymore. She’s taken that ability from me.
“You’re eighteen.” She gasps loudly, taking another step backward. Her eyes widen as disbelief flushes through her face. I step forward into her space, not letting her get away just yet. “EIGHTEEN!” I yell, making her jump. I can feel the veins popping out of my skin as I yell, my face heating with anger the longer I look at her. I get as close to her as I can without actually touching her.
“Bentley, I can explain.”
“I don’t need an explanation, Cecilia. It’s pretty fucking clear, don’t you think?” I ask sardonically. I turn away so I’m no longer facing her. The longer I look at her, the more pissed off I get. “You’ve been lying since the moment you walked in here. You used me to get what you wanted and now that you have it, you were planning to throw me out like yesterday’s garbage.”
“No, it was never about—”
Her pleading voice is like nails on a chalkboard. I can’t fucking stand it. No more fucking lies.
I turn around and stride toward her, pushing myself right in her face. “Eighteen…” It comes out more like a pathetic plea—begging her to tell me it’s not true. But I know it is. I can do the math. It’s why she had to use her sister’s ID and college information in the first place. She lowers her head, clearly guilty of everything she’s done. “Goddamn liar,” I growl.
Tears begin falling down her pink-tinted cheeks. She’s upset she’s been caught, but perhaps more upset about losing me. Losing us? It didn’t matter anymore—this is unforgivable.
I take a step backward as I see the two security guards at the door behind her. I lick my lips and lean in to kiss her, but I stop just before our lips meet.
“Let’s make this quick and painless, shall we?” Her face tilts up, her watery eyes looking up at me is pitiful. “Cecilia West, you’re fired. Get the fuck out of my office.”
The Intern Serials: Complete Box Set Page 16