Which were probably fake anyway, the angry part of her added. Not that she had a problem with fake breasts, but it would be so fitting if the woman who lived a lie—America’s sweetheart, my ass!—had fake assets to go with her web of lies.
Fake tits or not, Foster sure seemed to appreciate them.
Dammit. “Where are you even taking me, Connor?” she asked him.
“Away,” Foster’s twin promised. “To gather yourself. You’re safe with me. We need to talk.”
“I’m sick of talking to Boyds,” Natalie said, tugging her arm free when he tried to help her into the car.
“Then you can listen,” he answered, his cool gray eyes going even colder somehow.
“I’m even sicker of listening to Boyds,” she retorted.
“Get in the damn car, Nat, before I shove you in. I need to get you away from here before he sees you and before you burst into tears. Just listen for once, please.”
A camera glinted and Natalie heard the unmistakable sound of a shutter click. “Oh god, not now,” she muttered, ducking into the car.
“Told you,” Conner said, crawling into the opposite seat in the limo. “We don’t look for the press. They find us. And at the most inconvenient and easily misconstrued moments.”
Glancing through the window, she tried to see the beach. To spot Foster among all the people. To see if he was kissing the model or if he’d left her side to look for Natalie.
But he never even knew she was there, did he? Because he’d been too busy staring at Margo’s breasts. The tears erupted, and when they did, Connor crossed the space between them and gave her the shoulder to cry on that she needed.
Just as he’d promised her when he warned her about how she was making a mistake in the first place.
Chapter Fifteen
“Any brother will do?”—Headline from TRZ
“Keepin’ it in the family?”—Headline from RPG syndicated
“Fortune Favors the Fortune Hunter!”—Headline from the Post
“Things Get Hot for the Boyd Princes!”—Headline from Zuzzfeeder
“She’s such a whore! Like, one brother wasn’t even enough for her. See link for details!”—Viral post on social media
“Trading Twins!”—Various sources, mostly memes
“Seriously, the Boyd brothers? Now that’s a sammich I wanna be in, amiright? #FortuneHunter #RoguePrince #FirstbornPrince #YouSluuuuut”—Viral post on social media
Transcript from TRC Nightly News:
“As you can see from these images captured from West Palm Beach earlier today, The Firstborn Prince—as they’ve been calling Foster Boyd, of Boyd Cosmetics—has moved on from his little fortune hunter, Natalie Stolen. But he’s moved up in the world, caught on film today canoodling with Margo Welles. You may recognize that name because Margo is model and actress, formerly called America’s sweetheart, before the shocking news that she shared a child with the Irish Prince, Aiden Kelley. Not just any child—a secret baby that she kept hidden from the billionaire baby daddy for a whole decade. Is that confusing enough for you, folks?
“Well, we know Welles has a fondness for handsome and rich men because of her relationship with Kelley, making her snagging the apparently rebounding Foster not entirely a surprise, but there were some sexy surprises being revealed in the sand!
“A reporter managed to capture these shots of Natalie Stolen, formerly the image consultant to the stars, having what looks like a very heated and passionate conversation with the other Boyd twin, Connor Boyd. You may know him as the Rogue Prince, because he’s often been caught on camera getting into drunken brawls and otherwise raising hell in a way that only a billionaire could afford.
“Can the sexy siren fortune hunter manage to keep her snare in this prince, or will she come up empty handed? One thing is for sure, since it was leaked she was the one that sold the information on Welles, and she’s now had a running relationship with both of the Boyd twins, it is unlikely she’ll be able to go back to image consultations. How can she, when she so clearly can’t even manage to keep her own reputation out of the headlines?
“After the break, we’ll be discussing the rumors that Jeanie James has been showing a bit of a baby bump, but for now, we’ll leave you with these images, captured shortly after Stolen left the beach with Connor Boyd. You decide, folks; is this a lover’s embrace or not? Hit us up on social media with your thoughts…”
Chapter Sixteen
From Natalie’s rules for Foster Boyd, v1
Rule #10: Do not read the paper! Don’t watch the news! If you think there is even a slim chance that they’re going to air something that will upset you enough that you forget rules 1-9, then just do not tune in. If something important enough happens, it will be in a major news network, not a tabloid, so just pretend those do not exist. Trust me, you’ll thank me for this!
Connor sat across from her in the hotel room, holding her hands loosely. His face was stern, still a little frustrated, and he squeezed her fingertips. “Please, just let me explain things?”
“What is there to explain?” she asked. “He was sexting Margo Welles. Don’t pretend it wasn’t true. I saw the picture online, and I may not be an expert on breasts like a Boyd brother, but those were hers. I know it. Now he’s with her on the beach. This doesn’t take a rocket scientist. It is pretty clear what is going on.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, Natalie. Which is partially my fault, but—”
A sob broke free of her throat. “Yeah, Boyds don’t have weaknesses. And Boyds don’t break their rules, but I see through you both, Connor. Because you do. You’re riddled with weaknesses and you break all the damn rules. For instance, I know he is a control freak, and when things are outside the realm of his control, he doesn’t handle it well,” she warbled. “And I know you’re his brother, but in this, you do not have to try to cover for him. He’s with her. The evidence speaks for itself.”
Connor stood, pulling her to her feet before wrapping her in a warm hug. His hand was rough as he scrubbed it up and down her back. “I’m not covering for him. He’s covering for me,” he began.
She punched his chest, pushing partway out of his arms, but he didn’t release her. “Natalie, please. I care about you—” Connor began.
“You always did like to steal what is mine,” Foster said from the doorway. Connor leaped away from her, leaving Natalie swaying on her feet, still looking at the world through a sheen of tears. Foster came back? He hasn’t been gone long enough to sleep with Margo, right? Which meant…
Maybe he wasn’t cheating on her? Not that he could even cheat on me, she thought bitterly. They weren’t even in a real relationship. He’d implied she was the exception, and she’d eaten it up. What did that even mean? Exception to what? Exceptionally stupid, to let her heart get involved when the man in question literally told her not to get attached.
Buffy whined, nudging Foster’s leg, and he touched her head almost absentmindedly. Even through her teary view, Foster looked furious. And sort of empty.
He looked sad, but she didn’t know what she was supposed to do about that since this was all his own fault. He’d gone to Margo Welles. Fact. He’d been sexting her months ago. Fact. Even if Natalie tried to ignore those two important details, the truth remained clear.
He’d never promised her anything besides sex. He didn’t even want to look at her face when they made love… Made love? Fucked. Call it what it is and maybe you can react logically to this whole situation, she reminded herself.
“It isn’t what you’re thinking, Foster,” Connor said, since neither she nor Foster were speaking.
“Isn’t it? I walk in to a room when you’re not expecting me and find you embracing my…Natalie, holding her face in your hands, telling her how much you care about her. What am I supposed to think?” Foster spoke what should’ve been passionate words in such an empty voice, and it squeezed her heart in her chest.
See? That little voice in her head spoke up. His Natali
e. Even he was pointing out how stupid it was that she cared about him.
Shut up, she told the little voice.
“Foster, please. You know me better than that. You know her better than that. Think this through.” Connor said.
“Foster,” she said.
He swiveled his sad gaze in her direction, but each heartbeat made it more impossible to say anything important. She was the woman he slept with. She had no right to even complain about him meeting with Margo.
“I’m leaving,” she said.
“I think that might be best,” Foster said coldly. “I’m sure Connor can find room for you in his suite.”
She shook her head. Part of her wanted to call him an idiot. Like she’d sleep with his brother when she was in love with him?
But she couldn’t even tell him she was in love with him, because he’d told her not to get attached. She couldn’t even tell him why he was being an idiot, that’s how fucked up their situation was at this point.
She didn’t need her clothes. Not badly enough to stick around. So she simply grabbed her laptop bag and her purse and headed for the door.
“You’re both being idiots!” Connor practically yelled. “This is all my fault. If you’ll just let me explain—”
But apparently Foster didn’t want to hear it, either, because the last thing she saw as she left Foster’s rooms was him punching his brother so hard that he fell backward over the couch.
…
“Ms. Stolen, do you have a comment?” the reporter asked, shoving a microphone in her face.
“This way, ma’am,” the doorman said. He managed to get her through the crowd and to her front door pretty easily. Bless the man. He deserved the car. Maybe a beach house.
But she wouldn’t be able to afford sand after the past couple months. She was out of work, had a broken heart, and her whole life was basically a big shit show. Starring her—the woman who couldn’t do anything right.
“Thank you,” she said to the doorman once they were in the lobby. “You’re wonderful, Alfred.” Stepping up on tiptoes, she hugged the surprised older man. “I’ll miss you.”
“You’re leaving again, ma’am?”
“Probably,” she said vaguely.
“I allowed a guest into your apartment,” Alfred said on the elevator on the way up to her floor.
“Hmm?” she asked, distracted. She wasn’t too worried. He’d never let someone bad into her house. Not if he hadn’t met them and known they were allowed up.
“Ms. Harper, ma’am. Apparently she flew in overnight.”
A rush of relief hit Natalie like a fist. “Oh, thank you, Alfred.”
By then, she was pushing inside her apartment and rushing into the open arms of her best friend.
“Oh, Harp,” she bawled.
They crumpled to the floor, and for the longest time, Harper didn’t ask questions. She just hugged and rocked while Natalie ugly cried it all out. Once she recovered, Harper made her a hot cup of tea, and she tried to fill her friend in on all that had happened.
“I know it isn’t what the headlines are saying,” Harper added.
“What are they saying?” Natalie asked, reaching for the remote.
Harper stopped her, taking the remote away. “You do not want to know.”
“Yes, I do!” Natalie insisted.
“What do you tell your clients?” Harper asked.
Natalie sniffed. “Don’t look at headlines.” Her voice sounded whiny to her own ears.
Harper stared her down, and Natalie sniffled again. Harper handed her a tissue.
“Just the local station?” Natalie tried.
“Especially not the local station,” Harper said.
“It’s that bad?”
“Worse.”
More tears threatened, and Harper shook her head. “No more of that. You’re going to get dehydrated. Now, let’s start at the top. When last we spoke, you were frustrated with ass sex and going to talk to Foster.”
Natalie choked out a laugh. “Okay, that’s a very inaccurate and vague summation of facts.”
Harper raised a single eyebrow in question. “Do you love him?”
Natalie couldn’t answer. More tears flowed and she could only nod.
“Shit,” said Harper. “I guess I’ll have to kill him. Hang on. We’re going to have to look up how to hide a billionaire body and get away with it.”
Laughing through her tears, Natalie pulled her friend close for a hug. “I love you,” she told Harper.
Harper held her close, her silky, soft hair a barrier against the hurts and the world outside her arms. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”
A pounding knock sounded at the door. “Nat, let me in.”
“Go away!” Natalie answered, still sniffling. He was the last person she wanted to talk to. Or next to last. Whatever.
“Is that him?” Harper asked, glancing back at the door.
“No, that’s Connor,” Natalie admitted. “The brother.”
“The hot brother,” Harper answered, hopping to her feet.
“You’re taken,” Natalie reminded her, amused despite her heartbreak.
“We broke up. I’ll fill you in later. Lemme let hot brother in.”
“No!” Natalie yelped. “I do not want to talk to him.” But Harper had already let him in. “I do not want to talk to you,” she told him.
“Fine. Great! I just hopped on a plane and chased you halfway across the country. In coach, I might add, because my damn brother took our plane and left without me. I thought he was coming here, but no-o-o, because you two do not talk things through. So here I am, and I do not want you to talk to me. I just want you to shut up and listen.” Connor flopped his arms, looking eminently pissed off.
“I’ll talk to you,” Harper said to him, smiling as she twitched her hair over her shoulder. “Harper Hashimoto. Pleasure to meet you. Did someone give you a black eye?”
Connor touched his fingertips gently to his left eye before cringing. “Yeah, my brother.”
“Ah, part of the whole story which I still haven’t heard. I just saw the internet blow up and saw some of the headlines. Apparently, I was on the fastest plane,” Harper said with a shrug.
“That’s the damn problem,” Conner almost yelled. “I’m the only one who knows the whole story, and neither of these boneheads will listen to me!”
“Hey, don’t talk about my best friend like that,” Harper said, poking his chest. Considering her fingertip, she poked him again. “That’s solid muscle, isn’t it? Like, I’m impressed. How much can you bench?”
“Harper,” Natalie said slowly.
“I like her,” Connor said, leaning closer to Harper. “Connor Boyd, pleasure to meet you.”
“Okay, if you two get together, I’m moving to a mountain top and never coming back down,” Natalie said, half laughing as she sniffled.
“Don’t make promises you don’t plan to keep,” Harper warned Natalie. Glancing at Connor and giving him a quick onceover, she gestured toward the couch and added, “Have a seat, hunky rich guy. If they won’t listen to you, I will. I’m tired of just getting pieces of the story, even if the parts she shares do include butt sex.”
“Butt sex?” Conner asked, perking up. “No one told me the parts with butt sex.”
Harper grinned at him. “We’ll compare notes later, sweetie, but for now, tell us what you know.”
Connor sat, burying his face in his hands. “Like I keep trying to tell them both, this is all my fault.”
Natalie threw a throw pillow at his head. It missed, but she still told him, “It isn’t your fault, Connor. And you can quit trying to cover for your brother. It’s done.”
Pinning her with those steely gray eyes of his, Connor shook his head slowly. “It isn’t done, because you do not know everything. Now hush. Just listen.”
“Fine, whatever.” Natalie flopped onto her back on the carpet. Closing her eyes, she decided to just listen. Not that it would matter. What was done w
as done.
“About a year or two ago, I had this thing with Margo Welles.” Connor began. When Natalie sat up and opened her mouth, he raised a single hand. “Seriously, shut up and let me talk. Like I said, Margo and I hooked up and had an affair. One time. One and done, as you know, is the family rule.”
“That’s a dumb rule,” Harper interrupted. “She didn’t tell me about the rule, I don’t think.”
Connor glared at her.
“Fine, fine. Shutting up.” Harper mimicked zipping her lips.
“But it wasn’t enough. I still had feelings for her. Margo had feelings for me, too, because she admitted as much when I asked her out to a dinner the next time I was in town. There was one problem—her kid.” Connor rubbed his hand over his face, cringing when he bumped the sore eye. “She didn’t want her daughter to find out she was sleeping with me, which I guess is a good call since we agreed on a no-strings relationship.”
“Both you and your brother hooked up with Margo Welles? And she was with Aiden Kelley? That lady gets around.”
Connor’s lips pursed into a white line, and he stared down Harper with his threatening gaze. Harper laughed at him, clearly not afraid. “What?”
“She doesn’t ‘get around.’ She was never with Foster. And her relationship with Aiden was over a decade ago. That’s hardly getting around by anyone’s standards, I would think.”
“But the texts?” Natalie yelped. “I literally read the sexts they were sending back and forth online, and that was not an innocent relationship. I saw her breasts, for god’s sake. In full color, on the internet.”
“Which was awful for you, because they thought it was you that Foster was sexting,” Connor agreed. “But the thing was… Foster wasn’t sexting her. I had his phone. We have the same phone and got swapped for a few days. Apparently, we’d made the mess up when we were together, and by the time I realized what happened, I was on a plane to Paris. Once there, I didn’t want Margo to worry…or forget me, so we exchanged a few texts in our conversation—”
The Firstborn Prince (The Billionaire Dynasties) Page 13