by Rhonda Bowen
Under My Rules
City Girls Book 3
Rhonda Bowen
~~~
Smashwords Edition
Copyright (c) 2016 by Rhonda Bowen
Under My Rules
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the written permission of the author.
The characters in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another individual, please purchase an additional copy per recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the efforts of the author.
For more information about Rhonda Bowen visit:
www.rhondabowen.com
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Author’s Note
About the Author
Other Books by Rhonda Bowen
Chapter 1
There’s nothing like grocery shopping early in the morning. Especially when it’s two in the morning.
Portia pushed her grocery cart through the deserted produce section, pausing to pick up a head of lettuce. The absence of people. It was everything she needed to make her shopping experience heavenly. She examined a couple heads before selecting two and adding them to her cart. If she ever moved out of Brooklyn - which in and of itself was unlikely - she would have to move near a Shoprite or some other twenty-four hour supermarket. She could never go back to grocery shopping in the daytime.
She saw absolutely no one as she headed into the cereal aisle and stopped in front of the Rice Krispies. Her brother would absolutely kill her if he knew she was still doing this. She recalled with frightening clarity the way he had gone off on her when he had arrived home from a date with his girlfriend Morgan to find that she was not there.
“Where the heck are you, Portia?” Derek’s voice had roared through the phone line.
“I’m at the supermarket!”
“Why are you at the supermarket at 2am?”
“Why are you just coming back from your date with Morgan at 2am? I thought you guys were saving it for marriage?”
That had thrown him off long enough for her to get off the phone. But when she finally walked through the door of the duplex they shared at 3:40am, he had been ready and waiting to give her ear a bruising.
She shook her head as she dropped a family size box of cereal into her cart. Sometimes her twin treated her like she was thirteen instead of thirty-two. If she had known living together would bring that kind of surveillance, she would have thought twice about buying a house with her brother when the idea first came up. Even though she had her own separate apartment upstairs, Derek sometimes acted like the landlord she never wanted. She knew he only did it because he loved her, but she was not letting any man tell her what to do.
Portia hummed along with the early 80s music streaming through the supermarket PA system and headed into the pasta aisle. She hadn’t made lasagna in a while. Maybe she would prepare one this week. She squatted to get the large box of flat noodles from the bottom shelf. When she stood, she found herself staring into startling green eyes. The face they belonged to wasn’t too bad either. A strong jaw covered with an immaculately trimmed beard, perfectly symmetrical features and tousled dark blonde hair that begged for Portia’s fingers. Who was she kidding? The guy was a knockout. She scowled.
He grinned. “You know what they say, PJ? You keep making that face, it’s gonna stay that way.”
“I only make this face around you, Khai.”
If he caught the acid in her tone, it didn’t phase him. “What are you doing here?”
She sighed. “Grocery shopping. What does it look like?”
He leaned forward on his cart. “At two in the morning?”
Portia tried to keep her eyes on his face and not on the muscles in his arms that flexed when he shifted his weight onto the grocery cart.
“No crowds.”
He raised a thick eyebrow. “You have a problem with people?”
She pushed her cart around him towards the other end of the aisle. “I have a problem with stupid people.”
His laugh followed her to the other aisle, which she skipped, just to lessen her chances of running into him again.
Khai.
She frowned. She had not planned on running into him this morning. Definitely not while she was wearing ratty yoga pants and a Columbia University sweatshirt with paint stains all over it. At least her hair looked good. Yes, her long deep red mane fell in perfectly layered curls around her shoulders and down her back in between her shoulder blades. After years of meticulous care and expensive products, she had finally gotten her natural hair to be full and lengthy. And she made sure that every time she stepped through the door it looked on point. That was rule number five. It didn’t matter whether you were going to the mall or the end of the driveway to put out the trash, a girl’s hair should always look on point. Not that she cared what Khai thought anyway. She had no desire at all to impress the likes of him.
Nonetheless, she skipped another aisle and peeked down the next before turning her trolley in. Cleaning supplies. She grabbed some Lysol wipes, disinfectant spray and toilet bowl cleaner and tossed them into the cart away from the food. She knew she was moving much faster than before, but refused to acknowledge why. She leaned on her cart for balance and stood on the tip of her toes trying to reach the stack of paper towels on the top shelf. Why did they always put the twelve pack of her favorite brand way up there?
“Let me get that for you.”
Before she could protest, the fresh woodsy scent of Adidas Sport invaded her senses as Khai stretched over her, easily reaching the pack of paper towels. He was so close the heat of his body enveloped her from behind like a warm blanket. His breath tickled her ear and the muscles in her stomach spasmed involuntarily. She took a deep breath and steeled her expression before turning around to face him. He didn’t step back like she expected, so she found herself trapped between the shelf of paper towels and his body. He was so close she could see the individual hairs of his beard, the faint scar on his chin beneath the beard and the smirk that shaped his lips.
Portia slid out of the space he trapped her in into the safety of the supermarket aisle. She grabbed the pack of paper towels from his hands and dropped them in the cart.
“Thanks.”
“That didn’t sound very thankful.”
“Why are you following me?” She circled to the back of her trolley and grasped the handles.
“Following you?” Khai scoffed. “Sweetheart, I’m just here to shop. Men have to eat too.”
“Re
ally?” Portia glanced into his mostly empty cart. “And what exactly are you planning to make with a can of beans, broccoli and pasta shells?”
Brilliant white teeth popped into view as he smiled slowly. “Why don’t you come over and find out?”
She rolled her eyes and pushed her cart away. “We’re not doing that again.”
“Why not?” He followed behind her with his own cart. “We had a great time last time.”
“You had a great time.”
He rolled up beside her. “And you didn’t?”
She stopped walking and glared at him wondering if she was the only one with a crystal clear memory of what happened on their first and only date. “You were on your phone the whole time.”
“Not the whole time.” He rubbed his beard. “Maybe fifty percent of the time but...”
Portia waved a hand to cut him off. “The thing is, when I go out with a guy, I generally expect to have his undivided attention.”
Khai ran a hand through his hair. “Well at least the food was good.”
Portia laughed. “The food sucked. But then, you are an L.A guy. I should have lowered my expectations.”
His mouth fell open. “PJ, that was a three star Michelin restaurant. If you had just let me order for you...”
“I don’t let anyone order for me.”
He snorted. “Or do anything for you apparently.”
Portia shot him an icy glare before pushing her cart out of the aisle. He might be handsome - extremely handsome - and smell insanely good, but she had had as much of Khai No-last-name as she could take for the night. Ordering for her…as if!
“So, Saturday night at 7, then?” His voice called out as she left the aisle.
“No!”
She shook her head and headed for the cashier. Men. Couldn’t even let a girl grocery shop in peace.
Chapter 2
“Derek, let’s go!”
Portia looked at her watch once more and tapped her shoe impatiently as she stood on the front steps waiting for her brother the next morning. It made no economical sense for them to drive two cars from the same place to the same place, especially while living in New York. But on days like this, Portia almost wanted to take her own car so she didn’t have to waste time waiting. She watched her carbon copy step through the door and was reminded again of how much they looked alike. Same dark eyes, caramel coloring and wide smile. Even with Portia’s chemically achieved deep red hair, they still got the double take every now and then when they were out in public together.
“It’s barely seven o’clock, Portia.” Derek pulled the front door closed as he squinted into the sunlight. “What’s the rush?”
“The rush is I have a pile of stuff on my desk that I need to get to before my meeting with the distributor this morning,” she was already halfway down the steps. “Unlike some people, I can’t spend my days schmoozing the public. I actually have to do real work.”
Portia and her brother were the co-founders and heads of Solid Step Footwear, but the way in which they spent their working hours were entirely different. While Portia spent her time as Chief Operating Officer managing employees, overseeing distribution and generally taking care of the day-to-day activities of the company, Derek spent his days drumming up new business and expanding their brand. Portia knew both roles were essential, but sometimes it felt like her brother was busy partying while she did the grunt work.
“Hey, if I didn’t schmooze, there would be no real work for either of us to do,” Derek slipped on his sunglasses as he got into the front seat and started the engine. “If you’re feeling that overwhelmed though, just let me know. I can scale back on the events and spend more time on operations.”
Portia shook her head. “No. We agreed a couple months ago that I would handle operations and you would be the face of the company.”
“And so far, I think it’s been going pretty well,” Derek pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic. “You have better intuition on business things than I did. Plus, you’re neurotic enough to keep everything organized. Knowing you are taking care of the day to day really takes the pressure off me from worrying about that. And I know how much you hate all the networking events.”
Portia agreed that the arrangement they had now was working out best for both of them. When they first started Solid Step Footwear out of their parent’s basement, they had nothing more than a few sneaker designs and a dream. Now, several years later they had a thriving designer footwear business producing quality fashionable footwear. Their main focus was still sports footwear, with Derek at the head of design. But they had also diversified into some casual and dress footwear and were starting to see traction in those areas as well.
In the beginning, they both managed the business together as CEOs. But with the growth they experienced in the recent year, they made the decision to have Portia focus on day-to-day operations while Derek focused on managing and promoting the image of the company. The idea had been Morgan’s. Solid’s image consultant who, not long after being contracted with the company, had also become Derek’s girlfriend.
“Yeah, I guess,” Portia pulled down the visor and popped out her make-up compact. “I’m just worried about whether we will have enough capital to meet the requirements to go public. We are only a few months out.”
Her forehead wrinkled at thoughts of the Initial Public Offering (IPO) they had been working towards the last couple months.
Derek nodded. “Don’t worry. We will. I’ve got a few investors in my pocket who are thinking about coming on board.”
“Well you better get them to do more than think about it or we might have problems.” Portia applied gloss to her lips. “We should find a time to sit and talk about where things are right now. The two of us need to decide what we want to do if we don’t meet our capital goal. That way when we get in front of the board we have a united front.”
Derek smiled. “Why are you being so negative, P? We’re going to meet the goal. Don’t worry. Morgan and I have been working these investors. We’re confident they’ll come on board. In less than two weeks, we should have them signed.”
“And if we don’t?” Portia paused with her eye shadow brush midair to glance over at him.
“We will.”
She frowned but said nothing more. She hated when Derek put her off like this. She wasn’t trying to throw cold water on his plans, but she liked to have a back-up plan. And a back-up plan for her back-up plan. People were always promising things in business. But until they signed on the dotted line and transferred that money over, nothing was certain. Portia preferred to plan based on the certainty of uncertainty than on the possibility of something else.
If she had been talking to one of her employees, she would have demanded more. But this was her brother. They were equals in the business, so she would respect his position on things for now. That, however, didn’t mean she wasn’t going to make preparations of her own. Which was the reason she ended up at Milo’s desk before she got to her own.
“Hey, girl. How was your performance last night?” Portia perched on the edge of the desk of her brother’s assistant.
“It was amazing,” Milo grinned as she looked up from the computer. “Even better than opening night when you came. They made us dance an encore piece. My feet are aching.”
“I bet,” Portia shook her head. “I don’t know how you do that and hold down a full time here.”
“It’s called not having a social life,” Milo laughed and tugged at her long brown hair. “But once I find one, you’ll be hearing from me.”
Portia nodded. “I understand that. I know dance is your dream so I’ll always support you. Just make sure you give us lots of notice. It’s going to be hard finding a replacement.”
Milo nodded. “I will. So what’s up?”
Portia leaned forward. “I was wondering if you could let me know what’s on Derek’s calendar for this week.”
Milo raised an eyebrow. “As his assistant, you k
now I have to tell you to go ask him.”
“But as my best friend?” Portia cooed.
Milo smirked. “But as your best friend, let me see what I can find.
Milo tapped on the keys of her computer quickly. “Let’s see. He has a phone conference this morning and a late lunch this afternoon at Balthazar.”
Portia’s ears perked up at the name of the restaurant known for power lunches. “And who’s that one with?”
Milo chewed on her lip. “Chase Weston and Don Bradley. Morgan’s supposed to be there also.”
Portia nodded as she made a mental note of the names. “What about tomorrow?”
Milo shook her head. “Tomorrow morning, he’s not here until noon. He has a meeting over in the Bronx first thing.”
Portia frowned. “The Bronx? Who’s over there?”
“James Mathers, A-K-A Triple Crown,” Milo said with a smirk.
Portia’s eyes widened. “The rapper Triple Crown?”
Milo nodded. “The very same. And before you ask, I have no idea what it’s about. I didn’t even book the meeting. I was just given the details and asked to put it on his calendar.”
Portia frowned. “Okay. Thanks, Milo.”
“You know I got you, babe.”
She was still frowning as she headed back to her office. Why hadn’t Derek told her he had a meeting with a platinum selling rapper? That was information she would definitely consider important. Was he a potential investor or was this a marketing thing? Either way, she needed to know the connection. Triple Crown wasn’t exactly a family friendly artist. Connecting with a public figure like that was something that should have been a joint decision. She would have to have a talk with her brother as soon as possible.
She was steps away from her office when a figure rounded the corner stopping her cold in her tracks.
If she hadn’t seen Khai less than twenty-four hours earlier, she would have thought she was imagining his sea green eyes and the mischievous smirk he managed to have while chewing his ever-present gum. But the moment he stepped into her personal space and the light woodsy scent of his cologne hit her, she knew she wasn’t seeing things.