The Dirty Series: The Complete Bad Boy Billionaire Boxed Set

by Amelia Wilde

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jax

  Cate looks at me across the island in my kitchen, the bags under her eyes dark even through her makeup. “I think it’s time for me to go back to my own place.”

  My heart twists in my chest, and the bite of sushi in my mouth is suddenly tasteless. “What…why?”

  We’ve been perched on two stools near the island, making our way through an enormous tray of sushi that Laurence spent half the afternoon preparing. He has the night off tonight, and still the man left enough in the refrigerator—freshly prepared and cooled—to last several days.

  Cate’s comment seems to have come from nowhere.

  She puts another bite in her mouth, chews, swallows. “I need to get back into my regular routine. I’ve been missing workouts, I need to make sure everything is fine at my place…”

  “It is fine,” I tell her, putting down my chopsticks. “Gloria stops there every other day. If something was wrong, I’d have told you.”

  She looks uncomfortable. “I just want to get back into the swing of things.”

  “And you can’t do that here?”

  “It’s just—the tension.”

  “Tension?”

  “You don’t want me to be back at work.”

  I can’t stop myself from sighing. “We’ve been over this.”

  “I’m fine, Jax.”

  “You’re not.”

  “I am!”

  “Cate, you don’t have to pretend to be on my account. I was there the last time you collapsed at work, remember?”

  “That was—that was just a freak thing that happened.”

  Anger spikes in my chest. “Was it? Or was it the result of weeks and months of overwork without your beloved boss ever giving a fuck?” The words that tumble out of my mouth are harsh, and Cate recoils.

  “Sandra cares,” she fires back.

  I put my hands over my face, then drop them back to the counter’s surface. “She’s given you, what, two compliments in the past year? Just enough to keep you hanging by a thread?” During our several day movie marathon Cate told me about the brief moment of praise she got on the day she’d first seen me at the office. It’s clear to me that this was a ploy on Sarzó’s part to make fucking sure she wouldn’t have to worry about Cate’s loyalties.

  Cate’s face goes blank and cold. “I’m not going to argue with you about this.” She stands up from her stool and takes her plate to the sink, rinsing it off and putting it neatly into the dishwasher—never mind the fact that I hire people to do that kind of thing.

  “I don’t want to argue with you,” I say, trying to keep my voice level. “I just thought that as a couple, we could discuss things that obviously have a serious effect on your health.”

  She whips around, eyes blazing. “We’re a couple now?”

  Jesus Christ. This is not how I wanted to have this talk.

  “Are you saying we’re not?”

  Cate crosses her arms over her chest and looks at the floor, her jaw working.

  “I’m going back to my apartment, Jax. If you want, I can have someone come over to collect my things.”

  “Don’t go.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  “I’m not telling you. I’m asking.”

  “Because you love me enough to try to ruin my career?”

  I get up from the stool and cross over to her, but she shakes my hands off her arms. What the fuck is going on?

  “Cate, what the hell?”

  “You don’t understand, because you have everything you’ll ever need.” She throws her hands up, gesturing wildly around her. “You’re never going to have to worry about money. You’re never going to have to worry about your job, or being forced to…forced to…”

  Without warning, her eyes are filling with tears, and I am fucking baffled. Where is this coming from?

  “Cate,” I say, reaching out and putting a palm on her upper arm, rubbing the soft skin exposed by her tank top. “What’s this really about?”

  She looks up at me, her face pinched and pale. The last thing she should be worried about right now is her job. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Give me a fucking chance, Cate.”

  Her eyes cut away from mine, traveling around the kitchen, and then she looks back, blinking away the tears. “I can’t afford to lose my job. I can’t afford a single wrong move that might jeopardize it, and that includes taking more time off.”

  “You could have any job you wanted.”

  “That’s not—” She makes a frustrated sound and brushes her hair away from her face. “I want this job. I’ve busted my ass at this job for more than a year. Even if I wanted to leave, I’d need to be flawless up until the end.”

  “I really don’t think you need to be so concerned about it.” Cate has a wild look on her face. There’s real fear there, but I can’t understand how it’s become so fucking powerful.

  “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  “I get it, I do—but Cate, the pressure you’re putting on yourself is killing you.”

  “I’m fine,” she insists again, her tone shrill, and we’re right back where we started.

  I hold up both of my hands. “Wait—just listen.”

  She presses her lips together so tightly they’re white.

  “It’s late.” She can’t argue with that. “We’re almost to the weekend.” Another neutral fact. “Just stay a few more days, and we’ll have more time to talk, figure things out. Maybe think about taking Friday off. They’ll be fine without you.”

  Before the final words are out of my mouth I know they’re a mistake. Cate’s face had been softening, but she turns on a dime.

  “You know what?” she says, shaking her head. “Fuck you, Jax.”

  “I—”

  She holds up a hand. “Don’t.”

  Cate pushes past me, and I want to reach out and grab her, stop her from going, carry her to her bed…but I don’t.

  I can’t control her.

  Within minutes, she’s gathered her purse and a couple of outfits and she’s out the door, without another word.

  The silence she leaves in her wake is deafening.

  Chapter Thirty

  Cate

  Carl dances back on the balls of his feet, giving me some extra space to catch my breath.

  This is the fifth time.

  I drop my hands to my sides, frustrated beyond belief, and turn away from him, heading for my bag.

  “Cate—”

  “I’m done, Carl,” I call over my shoulder. “I’m done for today. Thanks for the session.”

  “Don’t be pissed at me,” he says, stepping beside me and stripping off his own gloves and headgear.

  “I’m not.”

  “You are, but I don’t know why.”

  My jaw clenched and painful, I zip my bag and throw the strap over my shoulder, ready to shove my way past him to leave. “I don’t need to be coddled, okay?”

  Carl looks incredulous. “Coddled?”

  “I saw what you were doing out there, and I don’t need it. I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Are you serious? You were just hospitalized for exhaustion, Cate. I don’t even think you should be working out.”

  “What the fuck is your problem?” I shout, locking my eyes on his. “If you don’t think I should be working out, cancel my sessions. Here. I’ll do it. We’re done, Carl.”

  Carl puts both hands on his face and takes a deep breath before he speaks again. “Cate, I don’t know how to say this in a way that will get through to you, but I’m worried as hell about you. You have this look in your eyes that…it’s scary, Cate. I haven’t canceled our sessions because, to be totally honest, I’m afraid that if you work out by yourself you might take it too far, and…” He can’t finish. “It could be a bad situation.”

  All the fight goes out of me, and it hits me what a royally bitchy person I’ve become.

  This isn’t like me.

 
Before the last year of my life, I lived for kindness, for fun, for laughter. For friends.

  Now I’m an overtired shrew who yells at everyone who tries to be nice to her.

  My shoulders droop under my shame. I owe another person an apology. They’re starting to stack up.

  “I’m really sorry, Carl.” My voice comes out not much louder than a whisper. “I’ve been—” There’s a lump in my throat, and I have to swallow in order to be able to speak again. “Things haven’t been easy.”

  “I can see that,” Carl says gently, patting me on the shoulder. “Listen, it’s okay. I’m just telling you, friend to friend…” His eyes are serious, sincere. “You have to back off. Maybe not totally, but something has to give.”

  His words echo my own thoughts, and when he says it out loud, it’s a lot harder for me to brush it off.

  “I know.”

  “Nobody’s going to think you don’t care about the job. Just think about it, okay?”

  “I will.”

  Carl walks me to the car and closes the door behind me. I roll down the window before Mark pulls away. “You’ll think about it?”

  I nod, my throat tight.

  How many more people have to warn you?

  With a couple of taps on the roof of the car, Carl sends me on the way to my apartment.

  I drop my head into my hands.

  I’m already exhausted.

  It’s 6:30 a.m.

  For the first time in months I take a lunch break. Basiqué has a great cafeteria, and I buy the adult equivalent of a bag lunch and take it outside to a bench in front of the building. I’m just biting into an almond butter-and-jelly sandwich on artisan bread when my cell phone buzzes. It’s Bee. We haven’t talked in a few days, and she wants to video chat.

  Why the hell not?

  I put down the sandwich and hold the phone up in front of my face, then press connect.

  Bee’s face comes into view. She’s wearing a big smile and laughing at something I can’t see—but then she sees my image and the smile fades. “Cate? Are you all right?”

  If Bee thinks I look like shit, then it’s game over. Something has to change.

  My witty excuse dies on my tongue. “No. Not really, Bee.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  I tell her everything. Meeting Jax, the incredible attraction between us…going to the hospital, staying at his place.

  “You were in the hospital and you didn’t call?”

  “I didn’t want you to worry. It wasn’t—it didn’t seem like that big of a deal.”

  “It’s a big deal, Cate!”

  “I know. I know.”

  “Is there something else?”

  “Jax and I got into a fight last night.”

  “Over what?”

  “He wants me to take time off work.”

  Bee shakes her head. “He’s right.”

  “How can you be on his side?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I’m looking at you right now. You shouldn’t be at work. Have you seen your own face recently?”

  “I do my makeup every day, don’t I?”

  “Right. So how are you so blind to this?”

  “I know it’s a problem, okay? I just—I can’t stop, Bee. If I stop, everything comes crumbling down.”

  “Are you hearing yourself? It’s not that extreme, Cate. It’s just not. Listen to your boyfriend. He’s rich, not stupid.”

  A burst of anger gets the better of me. “Every single person is on his side with this, and it’s making me fucking furious.”

  Bee bursts out laughing. “Cate! Take a minute and think about what you just said. Everyone is on his side because he’s right.”

  “I don’t want him to be right.” My voice is small, and I hate it.

  “Them’s the breaks.” A little voice calls to Bee from offscreen. “I gotta go, Cate. Forgive me for being on his side? Even if it’s because I love you?”

  “I forgive you.”

  She blows me a kiss and disconnects the call, and someone sits down next to me on the bench.

  It’s Jax.

  “Your sister?” he says carefully.

  “Yeah,” I say. “Bee.”

  A long moment goes by.

  I hate being in the wrong, but I hate not touching him more.

  After a long moment, I slide over and rest my head on his shoulder.

  “I haven’t been myself.”

  “It’s all right. I have a suggestion.”

  “What is it?”

  “Let me show you a good time. Forget about all this for an evening. It’ll be a reset.”

  “Tomorrow night?”

  “If you’re free.”

  “Can I come home with you afterward?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Jax

  I’m a man of my word, and when I tell Cate I’m going to show her a good time, I goddamn mean it.

  Friday evening, she leaves the office at 6:00, and when she gets back to her apartment I’m already there—along with the most highly recommended masseuse in the city and a full hair and makeup team, along with a stylist I’ve hired for the evening.

  “Jax,” she says when she walks in the door, her face lighting up. “What is this?”

  “The first part of your good time.”

  The masseuse has set up in her bedroom, and while he’s working on her I finalize the details for the evening. Thirty minutes later, she emerges from her bedroom freshly showered, wrapped in a brand-new plush robe that I left on her bed.

  The team, which has been milling around in her living room, springs into action.

  For once, Cate’s making all the approvals—and they’re for no one but herself. Her cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower and she can’t stop herself from grinning.

  When we step out of her apartment an hour later, she is a fucking vision in a champagne dress, her hair in a sleek twist behind her head, jewelry glittering on her wrist, around her neck, earrings twinkling on her earlobes.

  “Stop,” I tell her, my tone teasing and light.

  “Stop what?”

  “You’re taking my breath away.”

  The cheesy line makes her laugh, and she’s still smiling when we get down to the car waiting at the curb. It’s a brand new Jaguar. It’s a beauty—all sleek lines and curves and power. I know Cate doesn’t have the time or energy to care about cars, but even she can appreciate this one.

  “Wow—you’re really pulling out all the stops!” she exclaims as I open the passenger door for her. I’ll be driving tonight.

  “You have no idea.”

  Our first stop: Haute, one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. I’m friends with the chef, who sends out dish after dish of a menu customized to Cate’s preferences.

  “How does he know?” she whispers to me across the table, and the sweetness in her face—still a little pale underneath the flawless makeup—breaks my goddamn heart.

  I lean forward as if I’m about to tell her a state secret. “I gave him a list of all of your favorite things. He’s tailoring everything that comes to this table to your specific tastes.”

  Cate shakes her head. “Unbelievable.”

  “What’s unbelievable about it?”

  “That you can do this.”

  “I can do anything.”

  “So I see.”

  “Except convince you to…” I reconsider. “Never mind.”

  “Convince me to what?”

  I reach across the table and take her hand. “Quit your job.”

  Irritation flashes across her face. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

  “It’s probably for the best.”

  “Let’s not talk about work.”

  “Let’s talk about something better.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Bed.”

  She laughs, a beautiful, throaty sound. “Not in a place as fancy as this.”

  “Are yo
u sure you want to say no to me, Ms. Schaffer?” I inject just a hint of kink into my tone.

  Cate bites her lip and looks at me with lust written across her face. “Not entirely.”

  I stand up, tossing my napkin onto my seat. “Come with me.”

  She doesn’t hesitate. “Where?”

  “Leave your purse. We’ll be back.”

  I take her hand and pull her through the restaurant. It’s on the twentieth floor, and there’s only one thing above us: a private observation deck that’s only available to members such as myself.

  I’m on her as soon as the elevator doors close, tasting the sweetness of her skin, covering her mouth with mine, running my hands over the curves of her hips. She moans into my mouth, her body fitting to mine, and doesn’t break the kiss until the elevator doors slide open.

  The view of the city from here is breathtaking, especially now, when all the lights on the deck are off. It’s completely deserted.

  “Let’s play a game.”

  “What’s the game?” she says, staring around at the sea of city lights beneath us.

  I guide her to the window.

  “You give yourself to me, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

  A wicked grin. “I like this game.”

  “Hands on the glass.”

  She hesitates.

  “Hands on the glass, Ms. Schaffer.”

  Cate steps forward and presses her palms against the thick glass, then spreads her legs, planting her heels firmly into the carpet. I run both hands over the swell of her ass, down the outside of her thighs, and lean forward to breathe into her ear. “You spread for me before I asked.”

  “Was that wrong?” Her voice is a breathless whisper.

  “No. It’s so right that I’m going to have to reward you for it.”

  “How?”

  Instead of telling her, I bend down and lift the hem of her dress, holding it against her waist with one hand while I tug down her panties with the other, tapping her ankle with one hand so that she steps out of them. For a final touch, I press the ball of lace into her mouth. She doesn’t resist, just arches her back and accepts it.

  “Keep your hands on the glass.”