by Liz Andrews
“Outcast? You?”
Lily nodded her head. “My father’s the town drunk — who was on your payroll, allegedly, to torture the most beloved teacher in this town and her husband. Yeah, I’m on everyone’s Christmas list.”
Marc was silent for a moment and Lily wondered if she had gone too far with the comments about her father being on his payroll.
“Things aren’t always what they appear, Lily.”
“Come with me; it’ll be fun. Anything will be better than sitting here plotting your devious plans and stroking your imaginary mustache.”
“Is that what I would be stroking?”
Lily looked at him quizzically. He couldn’t have just inferred what she thought, could he? Just then the intercom on his desk buzzed with a message from his secretary about an overseas call.
“I have to take this call,” Marc apologized as he went around behind his desk.
Talk about being saved by the bell. “No problem; just let me know your decision.” Lily backed out of his office and quietly shut the door behind her. Leaning back against it she took a deep breath. That had only been slightly painful.
*
Opening the door to her apartment, Lily was hit in the face with beer fumes. She closed her eyes tightly and slowly counted to five, hoping to stem the rising anger inside of her. She didn’t know how much longer she could take this. Her father was driving her crazy.
Just then, the object of her thoughts walked in from the kitchen with — surprise, surprise — another beer in hand.
“Dad, I thought you were going to be looking for a new place today.”
Mike scowled at her before replying. “It’s that damn brother of yours, ain’t it? He turned you against me. You don’t want your father living on the streets, do you?”
“Dad, Steven had nothing to do with this. I told you that you could stay one night. It’s been three weeks. I need to get my life back in order. And you need to, too.” Lily hated that he had guilted her into letting him stay in the first place.
“Well, I tried. It’s not as easy for someone like me.”
“It wasn’t a suggestion, Dad, it was an order. I’ve helped you out for as long as I can and it’s time for you to go.” Lily steeled her heart against her father, a chore easier and easier to do of late. Her father was dead to her. Lily didn’t know who this stranger was anymore, and she no longer cared.
“If your mother would only come to her senses.”
“Leave her alone. The last thing she needs is to be dragged further down by you.” Lily hated to say it, but it was true. Helen was finally putting herself first and Lily couldn’t be happier. Her mother deserved a little peace and her father deserved to burn in hell. “I want you out by tonight. Not tomorrow. Not the day after. Tonight.”
Mike threw down the beer in disgust, spilling the malted brew all over her carpet. “Fine, I’ll get out. But you’re going to regret this.” He picked up his knapsack and started to fill it with his stuff lying around the apartment.
I already do, Lily whispered silently.
Lily barricaded herself in her room, not wanting to be anywhere near Mike when he was in one of his moods. At this point she could care less if he took any of her things on his way out, as long as he got out. One small favor had turned into one of the biggest mistakes she had ever made, and she was more than willing to bet it wouldn’t be the last one where her father was concerned.
Lily could hear her dad knocking things around and tried to tune out the noise. She was startled when suddenly there was a loud crash, followed by cursing and the slamming of the front door. Going out to investigate, Lily found her television set smashed in with her dad’s shoe wedged inside.
“Serves him right,” she muttered to herself as she pried the shoe out. Opening the front door, she threw it out on the lawn before slamming it shut and locking it. The smartest thing she had done was only giving her dad the key to the doorknob and not to the deadbolt.
Staring down at the destroyed television, Lily felt her eyes well up with tears. A broken television might not be much to most people, but Lily had had to save up for two months to pay for it. Being broke sucked, but being related to a destructive drunk was even more dreadful. Her father’s one act of rage was going to set her back another two months. It was just like him to not care about anyone else but himself.
The phone ringing dragged her from her self-imposed funk. Picking it up, Lily dropped down onto her couch, downhearted. “Lo.”
“Lily?” Marc’s cool voice brought her straight out of the chair.
“Oh, hi.” She smoothed down her hair idiotically, as if he could see her disheveled appearance over the phone. “I wasn’t expecting you to call so soon.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Lily …”
“Nothing, Marc; nothing you could help with, anyway.”
“I just basically bought the whole town. How do you know what I can do?”
“Money can’t solve everything,” she replied softly, gazing at her destroyed television. Of course, it could help out with this, but not with a deadbeat drunk father. Besides, she didn’t want to get into that with Marc.
“I called to let you know I thought about your offer.”
“And …”
“If I can bring Griffin, too, I accept.”
“Think you’ll need your bodyguard at Thanksgiving dinner?” Lily wondered about the relationship between the two of them.
“He’s not my bodyguard, but he’s alone, too.” Marc sounded slightly defensive.
Lily immediately felt bad. “Of course he can come. The more the merrier.” Once again she crossed her fingers, hoping Evelyn wouldn’t disown her.
“Fine; what time should we be there?”
“How about noon?” She decided to wait to drop the bomb on him that they would be going to Logan and Evelyn’s until then.
“Hey, by the way, how did you get my phone number?” she asked, suddenly changing the subject.
Marc chuckled. “Lily, there’s very little I don’t know about you.”
His words washed over her body. “I don’t suppose you need my address then?” she asked huskily. Damn, he was affecting her voice now, too.
“No, I don’t. See you on Thursday at noon.”
Lily hung up the phone, surprised to see her hand trembling. She was amazed that one little conversation with Marc could raise her spirits and her libido simultaneously. This was going to be one very interesting Thanksgiving dinner.
Redemption: Lily’s Surrender
Chapter Two
“So that was the phantom Ms. Lily.” Griffin closed the door behind him.
“Don’t start, Griff,” Marc said, setting the phone back in the cradle.
“What’s to start? You like the pretty little thing, the pretty little thing likes you, and you want to destroy everyone in the town. Did I leave anything out?”
“Lily has nothing to do with the plot.”
“Ah … the plot.” Griffin twisted an invisible mustache and wiggled his brows leeringly. “Could you explain to me our evil little plan again?”
Marc winged a paper clip across the desk, hitting Griffin in the head. “Very funny. Fine, a quick recap, if you like.” Leaning back in his chair, Marc crossed his arms over his chest. “Part one, destroy the mill, the bank, and about damn near anyone else I have in mind.”
“Check.”
“Once the livelihood of the triumvirate is decimated, we go after their homes and their reputations. Then we send them packing on the last bus out of town.”
“And how does Lily fit into this plan?” Griffin kept pushing.
“She doesn’t. She is not part of the plan at all.” Marc didn’t like that Griffin kept going back to Lily. He wanted to keep her all for himself.
“And what about her brothers and the Grays?”
“They aren’t part of the plan, either. I never wanted them hurt. And besides, you know I thought I was
helping them. Their neighborhood had gone downhill and I thought buying up all those old houses would be a good plan. Instead, it got out of control.”
“You know what they say about the road to hell being paved with good intentions.”
“Funny, I always figured it would be gold. Money is the root of all evil, you know.”
“Not as well as I would like to, that’s for sure. “ Griffin leaned back in his chair with a smile. “Changing the subject slightly, what horse’s stall do you have Richard Evans cleaning out this week?”
Marc laughed before answering. “I have him working in North Dakota, running statistics on some property.”
“I didn’t know you were thinking about purchasing property in North Dakota.
“I’m not, but I like knowing exactly where he is at all times.”
“Keep your friends close …”
“And your enemies even closer,” Marc finished with a smile. “Isn’t that what you taught me?”
“Now, don’t go blaming me for your Machiavellian ways.”
“Don’t worry, Griffin. I blame the right people. And they’re paying for it.”
“Is Lily part of the people you blame?” Griffin asked. Damn it, he was back to Lily again.
“Why do you ask?” Marc was deliberately being evasive, not willing to delve too deeply into his feelings for Lily. “Better question, why do you keep going back to her? Is there something I should know about?”
Griffin shook his head. “Come on, now. She’s young enough to be my daughter.”
“That’s never stopped you before.”
“No, what stops me is the fact the man I consider to be my son is interested, and that’s never happened before. Besides, she looks like a nice girl.”
It never failed to affect Marc when Griffin referred to him as his son. Marc’s own father had died when he was a teen, but he didn’t have many memories of the hardworking man, other than the ones his mother had tried to instill in him. His dad had done all he could to provide for his family, but unfortunately that meant Marc barely saw him. So when Griffin, a man who had come into his life at Marc’s lowest point, called him son, it really meant something to him.
“She is nice.” Marc stressed the last word, refusing to rise to Griffin’s bait.
Griffin frowned when Marc didn’t say anything else. “Do you want me to spell it out for you, Marc? She looks like a ‘vanilla’ girl; not exactly your type, you know?”
Marc knew exactly what Griffin meant. He had always been a man of select appetites and needs, desires a vanilla relationship wouldn’t satisfy. But something about Lily gnawed at him, and he wasn’t willing to let it go. Not yet.
“I trust your instincts, I value your opinions, and I follow your lead on many things, but this is something I don’t need your help with, Griff.”
“I’m just saying be careful. I can only protect your back so far.”
“Understood. Now can we move onto something else that doesn’t involve my sex life?”
“Sure. Here’s something that can deflate a hard-on.” Griffin handed him a manila folder. “All the background information on the triumvirate.”
Marc read through the files, pausing at one particular bit of information. “It looks like Patrick Hines is running scared. In the last year he has been consolidating most of his assets and moving them into his wife’s name.”
“Is there any way to get to her?”
“The rumor was she liked young, studly guys. Want to go check it out?”
“So now I’m fucking for you? What, does my dick get time and a half ‘cause it’s working nights and weekends?”
“And you might score a bonus if you can keep it up all night. Should I order some Viagra for you, old man?”
“Is there a way to touch her outside of the bedroom?”
Marc tapped his fingers on the desk in thought. If he recalled correctly, the one thing Judith Hines cared about was herself. He seriously doubted the years had changed her. “I wonder if Judith knows what ol’ Patrick is up to. And what he’s been up to in the past. How supportive is she going to be when the money is in her hands right next to the proof?”
“What proof?”
“Of Patty’s infidelity.”
“We have proof?” Griffin frowned.
“We will.”
“I’m not fucking some blueblood snob, no matter how much you pay me.”
“Patrick could hardly keep his hands off of my mother. I doubt he’s changed.” Marc grimaced at that unpleasant reminder of his childhood. The way this town had treated his mother was the real reason behind his vengeance, much more than how they had treated him.
“What about the other two?”
“We don’t have to worry about trying to bankrupt Cortez. He’s doing that all on his own. He has millions in gambling debts. I wonder if his wife had a prenup; she married him for his money. She’s going to get a big surprise.”
“We’re just saving marriages left and right today.”
“I’m an entrepreneur, not a marriage counselor. These lowlifes couldn’t even be honest businessmen and loving husbands. They are almost too easy to take down. They’re taking all the fun out of it.”
“Makes you wonder what kind of shady deals he’s been pulling at the bank all these years.”
“I know what he did to my mother,” Marc spit out. “Made her beg for an extra month’s grace period on the mortgage. He’s a sadistic bastard who preys on the weak.”
Griffin eyed him carefully. “If you’re going to be successful at this, Marc, you’re going to have to leave some of your baggage at the door.”
Marc knew he shouldn’t allow these old injustices to affect him so deeply, but he could only show the true depths of his hatred with Griffin, one of the few people he trusted.
“This can’t be just for revenge,” Griffin noted.
Marc raised his brow, as if refuting Griffin’s claim.
“A large part, yes, but in the end, if you keep this all about the past, you will never be satisfied.”
“It’s not just about my mother. These men were shady before my father died. They’ve hurt many people. It’s justice, for everyone. I just have the pleasure of dishing it out.”
“Okay,” Griffin said, letting it go. “So are you really thinking about changing Collingwood’s to Grossman’s Grocery?”
“It would be poetic justice, wouldn’t it?”
Marc knew he probably had a dreamy expression on his face, since he felt particularly satisfied about making sure the owner of Collingwood’s paid for his former acts. “I am just looking forward to seeing that sign come down. I don’t care what name goes back up. I think I hate Hamilton Collingwood the most.”
“Why?”
“The other two could pretend they did what they did for business. My mom was asking for credit so she could feed her family after my father died. He denied her, telling her he would extend it only if she slept with him. We ended up moving the next week.”
“You know the bastards are kicking themselves now for what they did to you?”
“No, they’re kicking themselves because I’ve made something of myself and I’m making them pay for what they did.”
“Man, I wish I could have been a fly on the wall the day they found out the CEO of Grossman Corp. was Marc Gossnor, poor boy extraordinaire.”
A slow smile spread across Marc’s face at the thought. There had been several times in the midst of all of that he’d wished the same thing. But he hadn’t needed to be in their presence to know they’d shit themselves blue.
Shaking himself out of his vengeful contemplation, Marc dropped the bomb. “Oh, by the way, we have plans for Thursday.”
“You mean other than TV dinners and working until midnight?” Griffin knew Marc always worked the holidays.
“Those plans are cancelled for the new ones. Lily invited us to spend Thanksgiving with her.”
“And you accepted? For both of us?”
“Of cour
se. Why not?”
“Why not? What the hell am I going to do while you are making time with your girl? Talk to her mother?” Griffin asked sarcastically.
“I thought you wanted to watch my back, make sure I didn’t get into trouble. Here’s the perfect opportunity.”
“Oh, great. Thanksgiving with the Cleavers.”
*
Marc padded barefoot into the modern chrome kitchen fresh from his shower. As a teenager from the wrong side of the tracks, he would have never even been allowed to mow the lawn for the owners of this house. Now, he was the master of the domain. The bright cellophane wrapper of the basket Lily had delivered caught his gaze, and he decided to investigate. He was still amazed that after all the rumors in town about big bad Grossman Corp., she had shown up with a welcome wagon gift.
Lily was something else; that was for sure. The jury was still out on whether she was sincere or not, but it was hard to look into her big blue eyes and not feel something. ‘Something’ was the right word for it, too, because Marc hadn’t been able to put into words exactly what he thought of Goldilocks. He only knew he wanted more.
Steven and Logan were going to be a problem. He knew that without even having to be told, but Lily was worth the hassle. Especially if she was a submissive like he thought. He had been surprised at how well she responded to his subtle commands at the diner the day he had come back to town. Marc was willing to bet she would be a firecracker in bed; she just needed the right man to light her fuse.
The phone rang, disrailing his arousing train of thought.
The voice on the other end of the line instantly brought a smile to his face. “Hi, Mom.”
“Just thought I’d make one final pitch to get you down here for Thanksgiving dinner. I’m sure you own a jet, know someone who owns a jet, or can blackmail someone into lending you a jet for a few days.”
“Thanks, Mom, I appreciate the offer. But I have plans.”
“I know what kind of plans you have. Working with Griffin all day when you could be visiting with your brother and sisters.”
Marc laughed at Donna’s sarcastic tone. The years and heartache hadn’t changed the warmhearted woman his mother was. She was still gracious and perfect in Marc’s eyes, as she had been when he was a young boy.