Playboy Boss (Society Playboys Book 2)

by Roe Valentine

  “But this job…”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll work it out.” He caressed her cheek. The man could be so tender.

  Scottie nodded. Yes, they would work it out somehow. In the meantime, she intended to look for permanent work on her own. Without the agency.

  “Bye.” She slipped out of the car.

  “Cheerio, babe.”

  She closed the door, watching him speed away in his chick magnet. Sighing, she turned toward the Korr Corp building. She was beyond late. She hoped no one would ask any questions.

  Inside, she walked through the lobby, Susan waving at her. Thank goodness she’d been on a call, as usual. But she called to her just before Scottie walked into the suite.

  “Scottie…”

  “Yes?”

  Susan pulled out a garment bag and handed it over the reception desk. “Konrad’s dry cleaning was delivered.”

  “Oh … okay.” She took the heavy garment bag, which had been several suits on hangers banded together. “Thanks.”

  In Konrad’s office, she hung the garments on a rolling rack he had near his mini bar while she called Space City Pawn on her cell phone. A man answered on the first ring.

  “Space City Pawn.”

  Scottie held the phone up to her ear with her shoulder as she straightened the bags, removing the band that connected the hangers. “Hi, I’m calling about an item I pawned last week.”

  “Which item?” He seemed bored.

  “A Rene Lalique gold brooch. You gave me twelve hundred for it.” Just as she shook the last bag containing a suit jacket, a Post-it attached to a folded napkin fell off.

  “Oh right,” he said. A rustle of papers filled the receiver.

  Scottie bent over to pick up the folded napkin. “Is it still available?”

  “Yeah.”

  Scottie scanned the print on the Post-it. Found in pocket. Scottie frowned. “You said I can get it back for what I sold it for.”

  “No.” His tone was harsh. “That’s a twenty-four-hour option. It’s been a week. The price is five thousand now. I’ve already had a couple of interested buyers. So, I can’t guarantee the price won’t go up.”

  Her heart stopped. No. “What?” To stall herself from the real prospect that she would never see her grandmother’s brooch again, she opened the attached napkin, quickly wishing she had not.

  “Sorry, ma’am. But you signed the contract of sale.”

  The napkin was filled with Konrad’s handwriting. She’d recognize it anywhere. She dropped her phone, and read the words again.

  September Hookups

  H Bar Bartendress

  Tamsin

  Anisette

  Hot Yoga Instructor

  Pilar

  Greek Starbucks Barista on West Gray Ave.

  Temp S.R.

  Oh, God. She was Temp S.R., the seventh hookup for this month. It was only the fourteenth of September. Just two weeks into the month. Scottie felt like she’d been run over. Run over and then minced and then dumped on Galveston Beach.

  This was the man she was with? This was the man she’d lowered her guard for? This man, who she swore she was falling for, had a hookup list for September. And she was seventh on it. How many more were there? God. She didn’t want to know.

  The tears fell. Her heart fell. And she would have fallen on her knees if the damn walls and doors weren’t glass. In anger, she stormed to his desk, ripping a piece of tape from the dispenser. She took the napkin and taped it to the seat of his pretentious executive chair. He wouldn’t miss it there. That should give him all the explanation he needed when she wasn’t in her cube when he returned. Ever.

  She stormed to her desk, retrieving her purse. She never wanted to see the inside of Korr Corp ever again. Or the Korr penthouse. She was done.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Life was good. After a great meeting with Jacob Moreau, the contract to purchase basically signed, Konrad was ready to get back to Houston. He’d told Dallas he intended to bring a surprise guest to guys’ nights. Scottie and his relationship would be in the open. To his circle at least, which was the only thing that mattered to him.

  The job situation would have to be handled with delicate precision. Scottie would get a permanent job and leave on her own accord, hopefully in no more than two weeks. No one would have to know the real reason. Then, when enough time had passed, he’d tell the whole world she was his.

  These thoughts exhilarated him. This plan he’d thought up made him step harder on the gas pedal. He needed to get to her. Fast.

  He parked in his prime parking spot and flipped down the visor to take a look at himself. He met his own gaze. Blue and intense. His straight nose. Had he always looked so much like his mother? The conversation he’d had with Scottie about his mother was hard. That part of his life had always been hidden. No one really knew what had happened with her—the overdose, the suicide. The neglectful husband and father who saw family as a burden. He’d avoided facing the truth because it had always been too painful.

  He stared harder into his eyes. With Scottie, he could face himself. Finally. And she wouldn’t run away. After hearing about his mother and still not running away … she was the real deal. And knowing who he was before, the player. The noncommittal guy who kept his distance because being close was scary. Nothing he could tell her would make her leave him. Abandon him. He couldn’t survive her abandonment, not where his heart was concerned.

  He pulled out his phone, a smile on his face. God, he loved her.

  Me: I’m coming for you. I hope you’re ready for me.

  He laughed at his text. She was his, bottom line. And after today, his closest friends, who were his only family, would know about her. Pride filled him. Scottie was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

  He got out of his car, half wondering why he’d not received a text back. He glanced at his Richard Mille watch. Only half past four. She should be at her cube. He frowned, turning to face the VIP parking spot he’d given her. And…

  No car. Scottie wasn’t there.

  His heart raced and so did he as he moved quickly inside the building and into the lift. Several people stopped to chat with him. A woman who’d been eyeing him since her company leased a suite from Korr Properties tried to chat him up. But, he couldn’t think straight.

  In the Korr Properties suite, he went to Scottie’s cube. Empty. Where the hell was she? He walked back to reception. Susan had been flipping through a magazine. The phones usually died down around that time.

  “Konrad!” She was surprised. “You look … scared.”

  “Where’s Scottie?” he demanded, making her jump.

  “Uhh … I … she left this morning.” Her eyes were wide, scared. “Said she didn’t feel well. I called the temp agency, and they offered to send someone for today. I told them no since you were out. Was that okay?”

  “I didn’t know she was ill.” He pulled his cell phone out again from his suit jacket pocket and called her. Still, no response.

  Konrad calmed some though. If she was ill, then she must be sleeping. Something felt wrong. Without responding to Susan, he pivoted on his heels and remerged into the suite. With unsteady hands, he poured himself a glass of scotch. He drained it and quickly poured himself another.

  One of his accountants stood at his door. He shook his head. “Not now.”

  She frowned. “But I—”

  “I said not now.” He opened his door, letting it close behind him.

  His heart raced a thousand beats per second. Scanning his office, he felt cold. Weird, since it had been the end-of-summer heat. He usually felt warm in the office.

  Walking to his mini bar, he noticed his dry cleaning was hanging on the garment rack he kept for extra dress shirts. Nothing seemed unusual there.

  His phone vibrating in his pocket made him jump. Elation took him. Scottie! He pulled the phone from his pocket again. Not Scottie.

  Fabian P: Heard you’re bringing a guest to guys’
night? Spill it, Korr.

  Fuck! He put the phone on the bar, scrubbing his face. God, he needed to calm down. He should sit. Get his bearings. Scottie had to be home in bed. Where else could she possibly be?

  As he walked to his desk, he saw his chair had been pushed under the desk. He yanked it out from under the desk and saw the hookup list he’d written taped to the seat. Oh, God, no. His heart stopped. The glass of scotch fell from his grip, crashing to the floor and shattering.

  No. No. No. No.

  He snatched the list from the chair, lifting it to his eye line. Scottie had seen it. Scottie had found this. She’d read it. She knew who Temp S.R. was. The worse thing that could have happened, happened.

  He turned toward the dry cleaning hanging on the rack. Could she have found the napkin in the dry cleaning? Konrad thought the napkin was long gone—not waiting in the shadows for him to be happy, only to pounce and ruin his life.

  If Scottie believed this list, believed she was just another on a list, she would never forgive him. He crushed the napkin in his palm. Weren’t they past that? For the first time in his life, he wanted to cry. He wanted to weep for tasting happiness and then maybe losing it.

  What could he do to correct this? In the only way Konrad knew how to make things better, he stormed out of his office, leaving everyone in his wake to stare, and jumped in his car. First stop, Space City Pawn.

  Chapter Thirty

  “He’s not leaving, Scott.” Tara peered through the peephole. “He looks pretty messed up.”

  “Good.” Scottie’s jaw clenched. She’d fought through sadness the whole day, and finally she’d gotten mad. Livid. Number fucking seven! “He deserves it.”

  “I told you not to get involved with him.”

  “Save it,” Scottie snapped. She wasn’t in the mood to take any shit.

  Tara turned to face her, her cheeks red. “You’re right. Sorry.” She turned her attention to the peephole.

  Konrad knocked on the door. Was he drunk? His muffled words came through the door. “Scottie, please open the door. I need to talk to you. Explain.”

  “There’s nothing to explain,” Scottie yelled from the living room.

  “He probably can’t hear you.”

  “Shut up, Tara.” Scottie raked her fingers through her wild waves.

  Tara faced the door again, her hand gripping the doorknob. She turned it, opening it just a sliver.

  Scottie couldn’t see him, though she stupidly wanted to.

  “She doesn’t want to talk to you, Konrad,” said Tara.

  The sadness came back. The devastation. The insecurity. The pain of the lie. She believed Konrad could be different than what he was. He’d made a great claim. He’d hooked her. He’d made her believe she was the one exception, but she was no exception. Konrad couldn’t change. He had too much baggage to let himself be vulnerable, and she was just a fool with a dream.

  A fool with a broken heart.

  “Please, tell her. Tell her to come outside. Talk to me for five minutes. One minute. That’s all I ask.”

  Scottie could almost hear him breathe.

  “Just a single minute,” he said, his voice full of anguish.

  Against her better judgment, Scottie walked across the living room and opened the door wider until Konrad came into view. Tara was right. He looked completely messed up. Her heart clenched, but, she held back the tears and the urge to comfort him. Who would comfort her, dammit?

  “Are you sure?” Tara’s voice was muffled to Scottie’s ears.

  Scottie’s attention was on her own heart beating and Konrad’s glowing blue eyes, rimmed with red. “Yeah.” She stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

  Konrad embraced her, but she shoved him away. “No, Konrad. You can’t touch me.”

  He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “It was stupid. You shouldn’t have ever seen that list.”

  Her heart throbbed, the tears fighting her to fall, but she refused. “Clearly.” She crossed her arms.

  “It doesn’t mean anything. It was from before.”

  “It was a fucking hookup list. For September, Konrad. September!” The anger bubbled up inside her, exploding with her words.

  He dropped his head. “I know…”

  “When did you write that list?” She needed to know, though the answer would hurt her worse.

  He shook his head, sighing. “I don’t remember.”

  “Bullshit!”

  His eyes snapped to hers.

  Scottie silently dared him to be angry. He had no right.

  Standing straighter, he said, “After we got together.”

  “You mean after we fucked in your office the first time?” She was being crude because the hurt had taken over.

  “Don’t say that.” His voice was low, pained.

  “When?”

  He shrugged. “The day after that. Friday. It was a stupid thing we did.”

  “Who?”

  “Dallas and I.”

  The wind was knocked out of her. “Wait. You two compared your hookups lists? Are you serious, Konrad?”

  He nodded.

  In a low voice, more controlled than she’d been thus far, she asked, “Who had the most hookups? You or Dallas?”

  “Scottie, this doesn’t matter. It was before. I want you. I’m with you,” he said, a plea in his voice.

  “You or Dallas?”

  Silence.

  She stared at him hard. She wanted to see every inflection, every flinch. She wanted to see the truth in his eyes. And she was so close to being devastated, she was shaking.

  Konrad shook his head, his gaze lifting to the sky. When he looked back at her, his face was white as a ghost. “Me.”

  The tears fell. Hard. Scottie didn’t know how to console herself. She’d never faced anything like this. Lifting her hands to her face, she cried in her palms.

  “Baby,” Konrad pleaded, taking her in his arms. She let him because she couldn’t fight him. She was too weak. He kissed her hair and held her like his life depended on it. “Please, don’t cry. Please…”

  She pushed him away finally and put several feet between them.

  Going to her, he pulled something from his pocket. “Scottie, I want to make it right. I want you to forgive me. Please.”

  He thrust a box in her hand. Thoughts spun in her mind. She could barely stay upright. She held the box in her hand as if it was an object she’d never seen before. Her watery gaze lifted to meet his.

  “Open it.” He seemed hopeful.

  Curiosity alone made her open it, and she’d wished she hadn’t. Inside was the reason she had to walk away. It was her grandmother’s brooch, the one she’d asked him not to buy back for her. Anger rushed through her, fueling her.

  “No!” She threw the box at him. “You can’t buy me, Konrad! You can’t get me back with things! Throwing money at me won’t make me turn a blind eye to your little trysts. Not even my grandmother’s brooch can do that. Get out of here.”

  His eyes grew wide. “What?”

  “Leave.” She was trembling so hard her knees knocked. “I don’t want to see you.”

  “But.” He retrieved the box from the concrete and held out it out to her. “I … want to work this out.”

  “You’re not going to change. You don’t want to. Maybe you can’t.” She steadied herself, knowing she would never see her grandmother’s brooch again. “And I can’t trust you. I don’t trust I will always be the only one for you.”

  “But you are.”

  “Until when? You see the next hot barista on West Gray Avenue?” Her voice hardened.

  “Scottie…”

  “It’s over.” The tears came fast, her heart in her throat. She had to walk away from him. It was the only option.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “I see…” Konrad didn’t know how to have a conversation about Scottie with A-Plus Temporaries. He didn’t take personnel-type calls. But this was personal. He wanted to know where she was. W
hat she was doing.

  “We do expect our temporaries to seek permanent employment, but usually they finish assignments, so I apologize for the abrupt departure of Scottine Roberts. I am more than happy to send a replacement today for the duration of the contract.”

  Bloody hell. Three months was a long time for someone else to sit across from him. Take his notes. Schedule his appointments. He knew Scottie would eventually get another job, but this was not how he had envisioned it happening.

  “Of course. But no worries for today. Send the new temp on Monday.” He needed to get off the call.

  “No problem, Mr. Korr. We’ll send a suitable temp on Monday morning.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank you, sir. Have a wonderful day.”

  “You as well.” He hung up, a sigh blowing out of him the size of Eastern Europe.

  Konrad stared at his computer screen. No way did Scottie get another job so fast. They’d only broken up last night. There was no job available that quickly. It was clear Scottie had left the contract and, from the sound of it, left the agency.

  His phone buzzed, taking him from his thoughts and a little bit from the misery of not having her. It was Fabian.

  Fabian P: You missed guys’ night. You better NOT miss tonight.

  Another fucking get-together with those two? Hadn’t they had enough celebrating? Bloody-fucking-hell. They acted like they were the only couple who’d ever decided to marry. Yes, Konrad was feeling bitter and tender from his wounds—because he felt indescribably wounded.

  Me: We’ll see.

  Fabian P: Come on, man. A guy turns twenty-nine only once.

  Oh right. It was Konrad’s birthday too. He usually enjoyed celebrating, but that year he had no desire to celebrate if Scottie wouldn’t be by his side.

  Me: I don’t want to make a big deal of it.

  Fabian P: Nah. Just us guys having a drink at Antonia’s. She’ll be out with Mel tonight.

  Well, at least it wasn’t another engagement dinner. Konrad squeezed the bridge of his nose. He groaned, not wanting to go. The best thing he could think about doing was falling face first into his bed. His lonely, cold bed that Scottie should be in.