I Need A Bad Boy: A Collection of Bad Boy Romances

by Sophie Brooks

  He gave a brief look at me and returned to the file in his hand.

  “Lara Bold,” he said, as if it was the first time he saw the name, and made a thoughtful pause. “I bet you’re pretty bold, yes.”

  Well, there was no denying that. Boldness had put me in his way, boldness had brought me here. Maybe it was all destined to end badly for me, but nobody could say I hadn’t been bold, precisely.

  “Lara Bold. You might as well put Lara Fakeasfuck there,” he continued. “Do I look like a person who wears a mask? Do I look fake to you?”

  I knew I was supposed to deny that, but the truth was that part of what I found fascinating about Theo was the way he’d keep his true feelings hidden behind a perfect mask. In that, we were very much alike, only he wore his mask in winner mode and I was just a poor girl who could only hope to isolate herself from her feelings to avoid getting hurt so much and so often.

  And maybe I was being unfair to him in thinking that way. Maybe he was as vulnerable as the rest of us or more. Maybe his mask was so perfect precisely because his need of...

  “I know who you are.”

  Theo cut my meandering thoughts. There it was, his long held revelation. I had seen it coming, and now that it was here, I found nothing to say. Oh, I sure wanted to say something, but I was nullified, drowning (again) in the clear pools of his eyes.

  I felt terrible, but it had nothing to do with what I feared when I woke up in the middle of a nightmare, one of those nightmares in which I was naked in front of lots of people, and there was Theo pointing at me and telling everyone who I was and what a bad girl I had seen, lying to him and betraying his trust.

  I should have felt bad because my cover had been blown and I wouldn’t get my revenge. But I felt bad because this meant I’d lose him. What’s wrong with me? Turns out, almost everything.

  “I’ve known who you are for a while,” he continued. “Why do you think I never said anything?”

  He was studying me with his beautiful eyes, penetrating my soul like that other time when he was punishing me. I felt vulnerable, as if he had stripped me naked. No useful words came to me. I felt like someone had snatched the ground from below my feet and I was falling into the deep abyss of his gaze.

  “I never said anything,” Theo Lambert continued, “because I wanted to know if you were worth it.”

  “Worth it?” I echoed. I felt terrible, but the irony was not lost on me. I had spent all this time doing the same thing: in a twisted way, I had gotten more and more entangled with Theo because I wanted to know if he was worth it, if there was indeed a heart of gold hidden deep inside the wealthy jerk.

  “I’ve told you that you are an asset, and it´s true,” he said, taking a sip from his wine. “But I wanted to determine if your value justifies the sacrifice I want to do. At the same time, you’re much more than asset to me. You’re just not like the others.” He waved his hand as he said this, as if he were physically putting aside all of his toys.

  “Sacrifice?” I echoed again.

  “Sacrifice,” he repeated. “I’ve made a big investment in your father’s company. Now tell me, Lara: how much are you worth?”

  “How much am I...? What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean,” he said, getting closer, and I felt my knees weakening. I took a sip of wine to regain courage, but it didn’t work.

  He was right. I knew exactly what he meant. As I realized what was happening, I closed my eyes and surrendered to the moment.

  The understanding came cold and hard, as it often was with Theo:

  He’s buying me.

  “I have an offer,” Theo said. His hand grazed my arm, giving me goosebumps. My stomach was now home to a whole colony of butterflies. I knew what he was about to say, but it was so weird that I couldn’t believe it even when he’d finished. “I let go of Everwood Press. I give it back to Philip Everwood. In exchange, I get you.”

  Well, there it was. Completely unreal, but at the same time, just as real as his blue eyes staring at me.

  I took a deep breath and exhaled a nervous moan. It sounded awkward, and I blushed. I had to gather my last shreds of courage to be able to speak again.

  “I’m worth it, then. So, may I ask what are the terms and conditions?”

  “Oh, it does not have to be a legal agreement,” Theo said. I was sure there was no way to make it legal, either, but we were past that point. “I trust you, and I trust that we are on the same page here. I return Everwood Press to your father, and you’re mine. It means that you will be with me, just as you’ve been with me all this time, but in a full-time way, and with full benefits. I hope that’s clear.”

  I never thought things would turn out this way. I wanted to get my revenge, not to be bought to save my father’s company. I should have felt outraged, ashamed, and furious. And yet, I couldn’t.

  I thought of dad, of his face when he recovered the work of his life. I thought of mom, who had died right before the business took off, always pushing forward, always standing by him, cheering him on, licking his wounds, sharing his dream. I thought of the days I had spent as a child walking inside the tall maze of books that filled a good part of our house. Everwood Press was not a company. It was my father’s life. And mine, too, in a way.

  I also thought of Theo himself. I tried to decipher what was behind his deep, clear gaze. He was giving up on the takeover because of me... because he wanted me beside him. Could that mean he actually felt something deep, significant for me? Was that his way of saying that I was much more than a mere toy to him? Was he telling me that I wasn’t just an asset, but someone he didn’t want to lose?

  I didn’t have any answers to these questions, but I had an answer for him.

  I said yes.

  “A done deal,” Theo replied, savoring the moment. “There’s nothing I like more than a done deal.”

  13. AWOKEN

  “Hi, Dad.”

  He looked basically the same as when he was in a coma: lying in his bed, covered with impeccably white sheets, with tubes inserted in different parts of his body and surrounded by medical equipment. But he was awake. That was the only thing that mattered.

  “Hi, sweetie. How’s it going?”

  He smiled when he said it. I didn’t notice any troubling signs in his voice or general appearance. He seemed to have gone out of the coma without any ill effects. But the doctors said he’d have to remain in the hospital for some time, while they made all the necessary studies and made sure he was indeed alright. The possibility of a new heart attack couldn’t be discarded, and this eventual second time could be worse than the previous one, even fatal. We had to be careful and avoid him any stressful situations, they insisted.

  That’s why I decided to lie to him. Learning that his beloved daughter had essentially sold herself to the man who wanted to destroy his company would probably have given him a heart attack when he was in the pinnacle of his health; it went without saying that learning about it now would very probably kill him on the spot.

  “How’s it going? You tell me,” I said, smiling back. “You need to tell me everything about the underworld. Or the purgatory. Wherever it is you’ve been all this time.”

  I got closer to him and took his hand. I was starting to cry already.

  “It’s all right, sweetie. The underworld is filled with good dreams. You were in some of them, even. I’d say there was a bit of paradise there too.”

  “Oh, so you were so entertained that you had no hurry to wake up. Is that it?” I joked, pushing back the tears. “Didn’t you think of us, waiting for you on this side?”

  “I... I don’t remember thinking exactly. It’s not thinking. Just dreaming,” he said. “But now I’m back.”

  “OK, keep calm,” I said. “There’s no hurry. You have all the time in the world.”

  “I know, sweetie,” he said. But I could read it in his eyes. He wanted to go back to the fight. He’d keep trying to save his company. And I couldn’t tell him a
bout what I was doing. At least, for now.

  It would take some time for the takeover to be undone. Shares had been bought, calls had been made, values had risen and fallen. Our agreement with Theo (my sale, so to speak) was not definitive yet.

  But if the company was saved, I would make something up to explain it. I had made up so many things at this point, I had built such a big web of lies, that one more lie would barely matter. I’m not like this, I told myself, but the truth was that I had become exactly like that.

  “Marcus sends his greetings,” I informed him. “He came to see you when you were asleep. I think he defecated on you.”

  Philip Everwood cackled hysterically. He had always been fond of my bad jokes.

  “Last time I defecated, he was born. Go tell him that,” he laughed. His joke was even worse than mine, not only bad but utterly nonsensical. That made it all the better to me.

  Ah, those magical father/daughter moments.

  14. ASSETS

  The next few days were of happiness. I was so happy, in fact, that I threw a party. Sure, there were just two of us (Callie and this fool), but it was a party anyway, with music, pizza, beer, and even cake. Two slices of Starbucks cake, to be exact.

  Callie couldn’t believe the turn things had taken. At first she was horrified (He BOUGHT you? Really?), but when she realized what it meant, she was totally on board with the idea. And when I told her that dad had come out of his coma, with no visible ill effects, she let out an excited scream of joy. She hugged me and cried, and I cried too.

  I visited dad at the hospital every day. He was getting better, stronger, and he coldn’t wait to get out of there to take charge of things again. I had to convince him that it was good for him to rest and that he should be careful and let the doctors check up on him every day. “Bah, they don’t know shit,” he would say, but after a while he’d stop protesting. I brought him books to read and talked with him for hours.

  Even Theo seemed to step aside for a while to let me enjoy my happiness. He was still the same jerk, but he didn’t pressure me so much. Work was easier without him constantly pestering me and putting me in overdrive.

  After these few happy days, I started worrying again. I was still happy but I felt guilty and asked myself what I was doing exactly and what Theo meant to me. He had made an amazingly romantic gesture, giving up millions of dollars in exchange for me, but he’d done it in the least romantic way I could think of, and it was more than a bit humiliating.

  Also, jealousy started to set in. I remembered my encounter with Vanina time and time again, and her words hurt every time. You’re the new toy. He will discard you.

  I had to do something, get it all out of my mind. I had to discern what I meant for Theo exactly. Was I just a toy indeed, ready to be thrown away and replaced for a new one on a whim? Why had he made his sacrifice?

  One morning, when it all became too unbearable to keep quiet, I decided to talk to him.

  “Vanina came the other day,” I said when he arrived at the King of Hearts.

  “Oh, yeah?” Theo asked casually, without even making eye contact. “What did she say?”

  He stepped into his office without waiting for my answer. I followed him inside.

  “She said that you like to keep your toys around for a while, and that I’m just the newest one.”

  “Hmmm.” He was paying an unnatural amount of attention to his computer’s boot process. I’d never thought that he was so interested in the minutiae of the computing world.

  “She said that you call the apartment I live in the Joker, because you put your wildcards there, ready to be used. And that there may be several of these apartments scattered around.”

  “Oh, no, there’s only one,” he said, glancing at me briefly.

  “But is it true? You always put your girls in there?”

  He looked at me again, and this time he didn’t look away.

  “My girls? You make it sound as if I was a pimp or something. Yes, Vanina lived there for a while until she quit. Previous assistants lived there briefly. Does that bother you?”

  That burning sensation again: tears welling beneath my eyes, ready to flow at an instant. How could he be so cocky about this? I needed him to tell me that I was different, that I wasn’t just the newest toy in his box. I needed him to assure me that what he had done was a sign that he wanted me, not an everyday business thing where he took a strategic loss.

  I was different. Right? I had to be. Somehow I knew.

  Or did I just wish I was different?

  “Don’t pay attention to Vanina. She’s butthurt because she refuses to accept her role. She always has. Remember what I told you when I hired you? She tried to bite more than she could chew.”

  I gasped. It hadn’t occurred to me that Vanina had been my predecessor. This meant that they had been together (whatever that meant in Theo Lambert’s twisted world) right before I came to the scene. I had taken the interview to replace her.

  “The sooner you understand this, the easier it will be for you,” Theo said, his clear eyes puncturing me with their intensity. “Vanina was an asset. And you are too.”

  No, no. I didn’t believe him. His mocking tone was one thing, but his eyes were another. They were the only part of his that would always seem sincere to me. And they weren’t lying now. I could read them perfectly. I was not like Vanina or any of the others. I was more.

  “Do... do you get off on this?”

  A bolt of anger flashed through his eyes. His mouth turned into a bitter rictus. When he spoke, he spit his words one by one, like a hammer beating on rock or a machine gun firing rounds.

  “Do I get off on giving people back their lives? Do I get off on helping plucky ungrateful employees? Do I get off on covering a pretty woman in expensive gifts only to find despise in her eyes? Oh yes, I guess those things turn me on.”

  I knew I was being unfair to him. He was under no obligation to give me more than he had already. But... I needed to push, try to break his surface and see what was on the other side. I needed to know who Theo Lambert really was.

  “It’s not that. I...”

  “Thanks for your time. You’re dismissed,” he said, sitting down on his chair. I stood there for a few moments, until he gave me a hard look, urging me to leave.

  How I’d wished to find tears in his eyes. But they were cold and dry.

  15. THE FRIEND ZONE

  “So? How’s it going?”

  Maurice has a wide smile practically painted on his face. He’s been smiling that way since I turned around the corner and met him. We’re sitting at a pub now, with a couple of beers between us, and the multicolored lights play with his beard as his eyes refuse to let me go.

  I called him in a fit of rage, out of frustration after my talk with Theo. I had decided to give Maurice a chance, as Callie had suggested. Why not? He had an intense crush on me, and he was such a nice guy that he deserved it.

  He’d helped me countless times, the latest one being helping me get some fake documents with the name “Lara Bold” printed on them, so that I could mount Operation Revenge. He’d never expected any compensation from me for all his favors, except for my smile.

  Well, this was his compensation. I had called him practically in front of Theo. He was in his office, but the door was open and I procured to talk in the loudest and clearest way I could, to make sure the message had been received. Barely two hours later, we were here, in the pub.

  “It’s going well, thank you,” I replied. I didn’t want to tell him about Theo and our bizarre agreement, but I told him that I might have found a way to save dad’s company. He looked genuinely happy when he heard that. He already knew that dad was getting better, and he’d even gave me a greeting card for him, wishing him a quick recovery.

  Why not? I thought as the night progressed, and we downed beer after beer. Why not give him a chance? He’s handsome, funny, and caring. Also, he looks like an athlete. I’ve yet to discover a single flaw in him. So..
. why not?

  When the waiters moved some tables around, the music got louder and the lights got darker, we danced for a while. Then we sat down again and chugged a few more beers. Then we danced again. Then we drank some more. At some point in the night, the beer started talking for us. At last, Maurice gathered courage and said he loved me.

  I shot him down.

  “Let’s just be friends,” I said. “It’s good to be friends.”

  His look of disappointment was painful to watch. I realized that I didn’t actually want to shoot him down... not like that, not as abruptly. By gosh, I should be with him and dismiss the asshole who keeps invading my dreams day and night, I thought. Maybe I said it out loud. I don’t know. I was drunk.

  “Is it that rich motherfucker? You deserve better,” he said.

  “I know, Maurice,” I say, but even as drunk as I was, I was completely aware that I was looking at him with pity in my eyes. “I know.”

  Maurice was everything a woman could wish... but I just couldn’t. He didn’t make my internal machinery go crazy. It was a real shame. But it couldn’t be helped.

  I knew I deserve better. But I wanted much worse.

  “Well,” Maurice said, “we’re here now, so we can at least enjoy the night. This is the best night of all. I wish it would never end.”

  It ended two seconds later, when my cellphone started ringing. It was Theo, of course.

  “Get ready,” he said, without even taking the time to say hello. “We leave for London at 6 am.”

  16. THE WAY OF THE SHARK

  I’m not like this.

  I repeat it to myself, trying to make it sound true.

  My hatred is a blunt weapon now. My heart has been sharpening a different instrument, and it’s designed to hurt me instead of him. It hit me right in my center, like a professional assassin.

  I can say the word now that it’s all over. Love.