"Remember your promises?" she asked, her anger and her pride making her feel as though she was backed into a corner, lashing out blindly to protect herself and stop herself from just letting go and letting him take care of everything. They both needed to be reminded that he couldn't be trusted. "How you said you'd come back for me? How you promised you'd love me? I believed your promises once, but I don't anymore. Your words, Jude, are just like these clothes - window dressing. Pretty illusions to cover over the dirty, pathetic reality."
Hurt flashed across Jude's face, before he straightened, his gaze narrowing. "I have to say, I was shocked when Raymond told me you had qualms about spending my money. You've never had a problem stealing from me before."
"Stealing from you?" she asked, her whole body going cold. "I've never--"
"Save it," he said, his tone sharp and hard. "I can't handle hearing your excuses on an empty stomach."
"I have my own clothes," she said, her voice catching just a bit. Jude was her enemy, but it had never felt as personal as it did in that moment. The way he was looking at her, like she was vile, like he couldn't stand the sight of her, made her feel as though she'd lost something precious.
He sighed. "If you're going to work for me, you need to look the part. If you refuse to wear the clothes I bought for you, I'm going to have to insist you find employment elsewhere."
"Great," she said, though she didn't feel relieved. It could take her the whole six weeks of her stay to find another job and it wouldn't pay as well. "Then you can leave and take your clothes with you."
He smiled. "You don't really want me to do that, Brianne. Admit it, this has turned out so much better than you'd planned already, hasn't it?"
"No." She wanted to sit, but he was sitting on the only seating the apartment offered. She was suddenly so very tired. "It hasn't turned out at all the way I'd hoped. I just wanted to work as a cocktail server and make some money to save Mom's house. I never even wanted to see you."
"Why? Feeling guilty?"
She rubbed a hand over her face, tired of hating him, tired of fighting for everything she managed to get, tired of losing. "No, Jude. I don't feel guilty. Why do you think I should?"
He hesitated, looking the tiniest bit unsure for the first time in maybe ever. His jaw tightened and he shook his head. "You would only feel guilty if you gave a shit about me. Clearly that's not a problem you have." He stood. "I've lost my appetite. Wear the clothes I bought for you tomorrow or find somewhere else to work."
She watched him walk out, already regretting his absence. He shut the door and the apartment felt colder and emptier without him. He's the enemy, she reminded herself. And if she felt like she'd missed something important in their conversation, that was his fault for not explaining himself.
Her stomach growled and she forced herself into the kitchen. She almost smiled when she found a box of pasta she'd forgotten she had. Looked like she wouldn't be eating peanut butter and jelly after all. She didn't need Jude or his fancy dinner. She had pasta. No spaghetti sauce, but at least she had pasta.
While her noodles cooked, she drank a glass of water and thought about the dinner and the night out she could be having if she could just forget the past and sink into this moment with Jude. But she couldn't let it go and, it seemed, neither could he.
Bri stared at the clothes while she ate her noodles, her stomach grumbling unhappily. If she stared at them hard enough, maybe she could see them as a uniform, much like the one she would have received had she worked as a waitress, and not as a bribe designed to make her forget the past.
She slammed her empty bowl on the coffee table and growled in frustration. She hated being dependent on anyone, especially Jude, hated feeling like she hadn't earned everything she had. Unfortunately, situations out of her control had blown any savings she'd managed to set aside, and she couldn't afford to go out and buy the appropriate clothes for the job. She was little better than a beggar.
And she did want to wear the right clothes and present the right image for Jude and his company. No matter what he'd done to her brother, it was in her bones, a work ethic that demanded she do a good job for the money she was being paid.
She sighed, wishing like hell Max would step up and help out. For the one millionth time in the past four years, she dialed his number. He almost never answered and, when he did, he rarely did anything but annoy her. She'd always blamed his inability to hold down a job and his wandering ways on Jude kicking him out of their company, but Jude's suggestion that she ought to feel guilt for something made her think it was time she pushed her brother for details of exactly what had happened between him and Jude.
She loved Max, but she wasn't blind to his faults. Given a choice, he almost always took the easy path. He'd also taken unnecessary risks from time to time because he'd always been able to charm his way out of any trouble he'd ever gotten into. His behavior since Addy had been born, though, had shocked her. The way he'd abandoned them all was not something she'd have ever expected Max to do. His love for his family and his loyalty to her and her mother were one thing she'd never doubted until he'd left them.
"Hey, little sister," Max's voice bellowed over the line. "How goes it?"
"Max," she said, choosing her words carefully. Say the wrong thing and Max could hang up and vanish, not to be heard from for weeks or months on end. "I'm fine. Mom took Addy to visit Aunt Louise for the summer. She's probably having a ball, hiking and playing in the creek."
"Good," Max said. "That's real good. You enjoying a vacation while they're gone?"
"Nope," she said, popping the p on the end of the word. She got that things had been difficult for Max. After his girlfriend bailed, Max must have freaked about having to take care of a vulnerable, premature newborn on his own, not to mention all the medical bills he had to figure out how to pay. Bri had seen what Addy's early days had done to him. He'd stayed up, night after night, just making sure she was still breathing. Bri suspected that kind of love scared him, and he'd told her once that Addy would be better off without him. Which left Addy with her grandmother to take care of her and, when Maureen got overwhelmed, Bri.
So, yeah, Bri understood he hadn't had it easy. She even believed he'd had a hard time finding and holding down a decent job through no fault of his own. It would be hard for anyone to change careers the way he had.
She understood on some rational level that easy-going, fun-loving Max hadn't been able to handle real life when it kicked him in the pants, but she couldn't forgive him for abandoning Addy. Couldn't forgive him for leaving her to clean up the pieces of his mess. Yeah, she got that anger wasn't healthy, but what the hell kind of father was he to walk away from his kid and never look back? What kind of brother was he to let her give up her scholarship to take care of his daughter?
So, she might blame Jude for the start of all their troubles, but the majority of her anger and resentment fell on Max for everything he hadn't done since. Her anger burned with an eternal flame for the way he'd left his daughter without her father. That little girl deserved a hell of a lot more.
She couldn't tell him any of that, though. He'd just hang up. So, she sucked in a deep breath and focused on what she needed to say to him. "Mom hasn't been able to work since she got sick. Between the medical bills and the lost wages, we're close to losing the house. I'm working while they're away."
"Shit. Can you find a cheaper place to live? Somewhere safe?"
Bri sighed. Maureen's place was a nice home, a decent home, and it had been affordable when Maureen and Bri could both contribute to the mortgage payments. Finding even a rental that was less expensive would be a challenge. "Where would you prefer your daughter live, Max? In the Tumbleweed Trailer Park or the Twin Stallions apartment complex?"
He sighed. "How much do you need?"
She almost sobbed with relief. Maybe he had money. Maybe he could save the house and she could walk away and never have to ask Jude for anything again, never have to see disgust and anger in his expression when he l
ooked at her. "We're behind three months on payments. We need two grand to get square with the bank right now, but Mom's got another three grand of medical bills and I've already tapped out most of my savings. We just need a cushion, Max, until I can find a decent job with benefits." If he thought about it, he'd know the chances of finding a good job in Towle were slim to none, but Bri wouldn't leave Addy, not until Maureen was able to work and had found a new job.
"How much do you need? Give me a number, Bri."
"Five grand. We could get square on the house, pay down some of Mom's medical bills so we could get the collectors off our backs, and have enough left to cover us for a month until I can find a way to make more money."
"All you need is five grand?" he said, and her heart lifted. "I should be able to get that for you no problem. I just finished paying off Addy's medical bills last month so everything I make now can go to you. I've got a lead on a job that will pay me enough to cover you in a few months."
And Bri's heart sank. "I thought you already had a job. You said it paid really well."
"Aw, Bri," he said, his tone laid-back and jovial as always. Damn that tone made her want to punch him in the throat. "You know how it is in construction, when business is good there's jobs for everyone and when it's bad . . . Well, the new guy's always the first to go, isn't he?"
She dropped her head against the wall and banged it a few times for good measure. "We need the money now, Max. I hate to ask, but do you have anything you can send us?"
"I used everything I had to get square on Addy's medical debts, Bri. I had to get those paid off so I could start cleaning up my credit. If I'd known Mom was sick--"
"You would have known if you'd bothered to answer my calls."
He sighed and she prepared herself for more excuses. "You're right." She was so shocked she almost missed his next words. "I've been avoiding your calls for a while now. I just didn't want to talk until I had good news for you, and I . . . It's hard for me to hear Addy in the background, to . . . It's just too fucking hard."
The sincere pain in his voice tore at her heart. Maybe all this time she'd been thinking he didn't care when the opposite was true. "You can talk to her, Max, more than once a year on her birthday. Any time. All the time."
"No. Not yet. Not until I'm someone she can be proud of."
"She just wants her father. She doesn't care about your credit score."
"Where are you working?" he asked, officially changing the subject. "How much are you bringing in?"
She sighed. "Isla found me a job here in Vegas and the pay's good. I might make enough to at least stop the house from being foreclosed, but the job ends in six weeks and then I've got nothing."
"No chance you can make it last longer?"
"I'm working for Jude."
He was silent so long she checked her screen to make sure she hadn't lost the connection. "Max," she said, phone back to her ear. "You still there?"
"You're working for Jude Cassidy?"
Was that betrayal in his voice? "I was desperate, Max. Isla got me a job in Jude's casino, and he insisted I work directly with him."
"Probably wants to keep an eye on you," he said, his tone hard. "Listen, you do what you have to do, but be careful with Jude. He's got good reason to screw us both over."
"You don't think he did enough damage kicking you out of the business?"
He cleared his throat. "Just . . . Be careful. Do your job and get the hell out of there."
"Max, what exactly happened between you two? Jude seems to think I have some reason to feel guilty about it."
"He's wrong. You've got nothing to feel bad about. Look, I've got to go. I don't have time to get into this right now. Just don't forget that money is everything to Jude, Bri. You can't trust him."
"Why not? . . . Max? . . . I think I deserve an answer."
But he was gone, hurrying off to an appointment or just hurrying away before he had to answer more questions.
She stared at her phone. Max had always been adamant that Jude was one hundred percent to blame for what had gone down, but now . . . if the story he'd given her four years ago was the only story, why hadn't he just said that?
She shook her head. It didn't matter. She was only in Vegas for five and a half more weeks. Jude might be hot as sin and she might have some good memories about him, but he definitely wasn't her forever guy. She dialed again and smiled when her mother answered.
"Hi, Momma. How's it going out there in the mountains?"
Maureen sighed. "Oh, sweetie, Addy is running wild. She loves the freedom and the chance to explore. She's happier than I've ever seen her."
Bri could picture her sweet niece, blond hair flowing behind her, as she ran over the fields surrounding Aunt Louise's home in rural Colorado. "And how are you doing, Momma? How are your symptoms?"
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm fine. You've got nothing to worry about, just enjoy yourself out there in Vegas."
She ground her teeth in frustration. Maureen pretending she was fine was the reason none of them had known how sick she really was until she'd ended up in the hospital with pneumonia so bad it had almost killed her. Bri knew she was being a bit irrational, but the idea of losing her mother terrified her. "Please, Momma. I'll worry more if you don't tell me anything."
"I'm fine, sweetheart. I haven't even coughed in days. The clean air here is doing me wonders."
"And are you having fun with your sister?" Maureen had practically raised Louise, who was ten years younger, and only forty-five.
"Louise has been wonderful. She adores Addy. The two of them are so tight, I hardly think they need me around at all."
"Of course, they need you," Bri said, relieved to know Addy was being taken care of. Bri had been afraid Louise's job would make it difficult for her to take care of both Maureen and Addy. "I'm glad you're having a good time."
"We are having a wonderful time, dear. Tell me all about your adventures in Vegas."
Stress wasn't good for Maureen's condition, not to mention her mother deserved a break from the real world. She'd told Maureen nothing about the possible foreclosure on the house. So, Bri lied to her mother and told her she'd been going out to fancy clubs and laying by the pool every day. She hated to lie to Maureen, but it was worth it to hear Maureen so relaxed and happy. She hung up and laid back on the bed relieved that Maureen and Addy were doing so well, but wishing she had someone she could talk to about her own stresses and worries, her new job, and the way Jude made her crazy but also made her think crazy might not be such a bad thing to be.
She scrolled through her contacts, looking for someone she could talk to, but came up empty. Isla was in a different time zone and busy, and Bri just hadn't had the time or energy the past four years to make or keep friends she felt comfortable spilling to about her awkward standoff with Jude.
She slid out of her contacts and saw the icon for Isla's plan to lasso a billionaire. The next step was the first date or the first sexy kiss, and Isla had notes about what Bri should do to attract said billionaire. The notes were over-the-top, like "allow yourself to be vulnerable, but don't tell him your real problems. Tell him something cute and sexy, like how bewildered you are by the wide array of plumping mascaras, none of which actually seem to fatten up your limp lashes." Another note suggested, "save the sports talk for the third date, you don't want him proposing marriage on the first date."
Bri laughed, but she couldn't help picturing Jude's face in every scenario. As far as she was concerned, they'd already had their first date, but Jude would never have called it that. She'd been fifteen and Jude had just gotten his driver's license. He'd used every opportunity he could as an excuse to borrow his dad's car and drive somewhere, anywhere. He'd knocked on her door, looking for Max, and she'd been so embarrassed, answering the door with puffy, red eyes because she'd been crying for the past hour.
Jude hadn't asked her why she was crying. He'd said, "You look like you could use a milkshake."
She'd nodded, too bu
mmed to smile, even for Jude. He'd grabbed her hand to lead her out to his car and she'd almost swooned, for real. Her knees had gone weak and her heart had beat so fast, she thought she might break a rib. She'd always liked Jude, but she'd never thought of him as more than a friend until that moment. He'd always been way too uptight, too serious, too focused on the future rather than having fun in the moment, for her to seriously consider him as romance worthy. But, at the feel of his hand in hers, some switch flipped. She filled with warmth and an achy, teasing sort of want. She watched the side of his face as they walked, and she saw him differently. He wasn't just her old friend, her brother's best friend, he was actually cute. More than cute, even.
Jude had opened the passenger door for her and put his hand on the small of her back as she got into the car. He'd been a gentleman in every sense of the word for as long as she'd known him, but this felt different, intimate. When he got into the driver's seat and turned the radio dial to her favorite pop station, even though he hated pop music with a passion, she knew, even at fifteen, that he was one of the good ones.
Over milkshakes, she'd told him about her horrible, stupid day. A day that had involved her crush announcing that boys didn't want to date girls who could beat them at tennis, just because he'd suggested they play together during gym class and then gotten sulky when she won. As if that hadn't been bad enough, she'd gotten a D on her math test and found out a good friend had been talking shit behind her back.
Jude had listened while she spun her sad story, absolutely breaking Isla's first date rule. When she was done talking, feeling like an idiot because she was sure Jude didn't want to hear her sob story, Jude had offered her the rest of his milkshake, claiming sugar and fat could fix every problem or at least make you feel better about them. Then, he'd told her that any boy who couldn't handle being beaten by a girl would probably be alone for the rest of his life, that any guy worth anything would see her talent for sports as downright beautiful. He'd told her that her friend was probably jealous or having a bad day herself, and she shouldn't give up on her. And he'd told her that if she was having trouble in math, he'd be happy to help her, since it was his best subject.
How to Lasso a Billionaire Page 9