Billionaire's Bombshell

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by Sienna Valentine


  “What are you doing?” I asked. My irritation was beginning to rise. It was hard enough asking him to do this. Did he have to act like a fool?

  “I’m convinced you two are playing some sort of prank on me,” he explained, dropping to his knees to look beneath my desk. “I’m just not sure where you’ve hidden Elizabeth.”

  I leaped from my seat. “I haven’t hidden her!” I growled. “I wouldn’t ask you to fire her while she was in the room, would I?”

  “You would if you two thought it would be funny.”

  “Do I look like I find this amusing?”

  He shrugged and slid open the drawers of the filing cabinet. “I have no idea what goes through your heads.”

  “Todd!” I bellowed. “Get back over here.”

  He froze on the spot, slowly stepping over to me. My assistant wasn’t short, but he looked small to me now. I towered above him, just as I towered above most people. And I was going to use all the intimidation I had at my disposal.

  “Fire Elizabeth. Make sure she knows she’ll be given credit for the work and the rest of her fee,” I commanded.

  “But she’s nearly done,” Todd argued.

  “Exactly,” I snarled. “We can have her contractors finish the rest of the work. She doesn’t need to be here.”

  I felt like I was watching myself from the outside, and I hated the person I was being right then. But it was necessary. This was the persona that would protect me. The one that I always relied on to protect me.

  Todd’s mouth slipped into a disapproving frown. “This is about the will, isn’t it?”

  “Of course it’s about the goddamn will!” I exploded. “Everything’s about the will.”

  The will. My grandfather’s legacy.

  “Why did he do it?” I groaned in frustration. “Why would he leave me everything with the caveat that I could never settle down?” I slammed my hand down on the desk. My throat felt raw. “I can’t have her around, Todd. I’ve tried. I’m too close to the brink and if I don’t pull back now, it’ll be too late.”

  “I’m not firing her,” Todd stated. “And you shouldn’t either.”

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion, Franklin.” I only used his last name when I was seriously angry with him, which was rare. I gestured to the door. “Get out there and fire her. She’ll take it better from you.”

  “That’s bullshit!” he growled. “You just don’t have the guts to do it yourself.”

  I knew he would call me out on it. It still pissed me off, but only because I knew he was absolutely right.

  “Just fucking do it!” I bit out. “I’m not going to stand here and argue with you about your job.”

  Todd stood his ground, taking a deep breath. His glare tightened like a vice. “You know damn well my job doesn’t include doing your dirty work,” he snapped. “If you want to fire her, do it your goddamn self.”

  He turned and walked back to the door, refusing to even toss me a backward glance.

  “Maybe I’ll fire you too,” I called after him.

  His dark chuckle drifted back to me from the doorway. “You won’t do that,” he said simply. “Your list of friends is growing thin enough as it is.”

  With that, Todd left me alone to stew in my own darkness.

  Bastard.

  The asshole was right, as usual. This was my mess and I needed to clean it up. I was so stupid for ever getting involved in this shit in the first place. And once I did, I should have just stuck with ignoring her. I should have never brokered a truce and tried to be friends.

  Who am I kidding? By then it was already too late.

  The only time to stop this was the day she showed up. I knew it then, but I failed to act. She was a threat that I had failed to neutralize. And over time, that threat had just grown to the point that if I didn’t do something immediately, she’d end up bringing the mansion down around me.

  I rose from my desk, knocking my laptop to the floor. It clattered against the hardwood loudly. It felt good.

  Elizabeth was in the library, just as she’d said. Rodney and his employee, James, were moving a table across the room while Liz gave them directions.

  “A little more to the left, guys,” she said, squinting. “Mmm, maybe a bit back to the right again. Sorry.”

  “Elizabeth,” I called. My voice hung heavy and deep in the room.

  She looked up at me, eyes wide with surprise. Then her lips spread into a wide grin.

  It fucking killed me.

  “You made it!” she exclaimed. “We’re just tryi—“

  “I need to see you in my office,” I commanded. “Now.”

  I turned on my heel and headed back to my sanctuary, leaving a gaping hole in my wake. I heard Elizabeth scramble along behind me. Would I still think of this room as my sanctuary after today? Maybe not.

  “Everything okay?” she asked. “What happened?”

  I stayed silent. She would find out soon enough.

  In my study, I closed the door and strode to the head of the room with my hands clasped behind my back. Elizabeth followed. She never kept her distance anymore. Until now, I’d never wanted her to.

  I had no plan past this point. There was no way to do this without hurting her. Without hurting us both.

  “You’ve done excellent work on my home and I’m grateful,” I began, straining to keep my voice stern and steady. I didn’t want there to be any confusion. “But the work is done now. I don’t think it necessary for you to remain for the final touches. I’m dismissing you, effective immediately.”

  I struggled to keep eye contact with her while I said it. Elizabeth deserved that, at least.

  She deserved so much more, of course. But I wasn’t free to offer anything more, as much as I wanted to.

  “What?” She stepped up closer to me, frowning. “I don’t understand.”

  My blood was still racing from my fight with Todd, so I grasped hold of that anger as a lifeline. It was the only way I’d get her out of here without my resolve breaking like a frozen twig.

  Frozen like my heart. I hated myself for all of this.

  “You never do, do you?” I sneered. “You’ll get the rest of your pay and credit for the work. You should be thanking me.”

  I turned and walked over to my desk, intent on blocking her out with my laptop until she left. I had forgotten it now lay on the floor, probably broken.

  Fuck.

  Instead I went to the bookcase in the corner and grabbed out one of my legal tomes. “Get out,” I commanded. “I’m done with you.”

  “Oliver…?” Her voice was barely a whisper. Why couldn’t she just be angry with me like she was supposed to be? Why was she making this so goddamn hard?

  “Don’t fucking call me that,” I snapped, glaring over at her. “Your insubordination is part of the reason you’re being fired. It’s Mr. Bentley.”

  She took a step toward me, hesitant. I tried not to notice the tears welling in her eyes. I failed.

  “I…” She trailed off. “What did I do?”

  She sounded so heartbroken. So beaten. It made me want to hold her tight and tell her everything would be okay. I wanted to be the one to comfort her, not be the one to break her. But I had to.

  I had to.

  “Ms. Paulson, since you seem determined to prove to me just how thick-headed you can be, let me spell this out for you.” I snapped the book closed and walked over to my desk, slamming it down. We were a mere foot apart. Getting this close to her was dangerous.

  Desperate times. Desperate measures.

  “You don’t work for me anymore,” I said. “I’m done with you. If you don’t get the fuck out of my house, I will have you removed by force.”

  She quivered, causing me to clench my fist to my side just to keep from reaching for her. I couldn’t keep this up. It was now or never.

  “GO!” I bellowed.

  Elizabeth jumped back. The thought that she believed I would hurt her made me want to throw up, but it had achi
eved the desired effect. Her face contorted. No longer just sad and hurt, Elizabeth accepted what was happening and was ready to do what she did best: fight.

  “You’re a disgrace,” she seethed. “After everything we went through with this project. After everything you put me through!” Her voice was thick with rage but wavered with grief. “I expected better from you. I actually thought there might be a human being under there, but I was wrong. So fucking wrong about you. You’re just a twisted masochist who will never be worthy of anybody’s love!”

  Fuck. When she wanted to throw a verbal, punch, Elizabeth didn’t hold back.

  “Are you done?” I asked.

  She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Oh, I’m done.”

  She slammed the door so hard behind her that the paintings clattered against the walls. Again, I found myself impressed.

  And completely shattered.

  26

  Elizabeth

  “Liz.”

  “Go away.”

  “Liz!”

  “Go away!”

  There was silence from the other side of my bedroom door. Finally, a little peace.

  Then the knocking started again. “Liz.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Cress,” I insisted. “Can’t you just go get me some cannolis or something?”

  Her chuckle rolled through the wood. “We’re beyond the help of food now, my dear,” Cressida said. “Now we have to talk.”

  I sighed and turned over to face the wall, pulling the blanket up around my ears. She’d given me five days of rest. Five, glorious days. I had moped, watched two seasons of Grey’s Anatomy, and effectively played three lifetimes of The Sims.

  But Cressida didn’t believe that things got better on their own. That would be way too easy.

  “I’m coming in,” she said. “I’m not going to pretend like this door is an actual barrier anymore.”

  Dammit.

  The door cracked open and my best friend entered. I didn’t turn around to greet her.

  Maybe if I stay really still, she’ll think I climbed out the window.

  “Five days ago you were an interior designer,” she declared, shuffling through the detritus on my floor. The bed sank down on one side as she sat. “Now you’re a burrito.”

  “I’m still an interior designer,” I grumbled. “I’m just moonlighting as a burrito until my heart stops hurting.”

  Admittedly, I was hoping she’d feel a little guilty for encouraging me to pursue Oliver. It had blown up in my face spectacularly—just as I knew it would.

  “Babe,” Cress cooed, patting my back. “You’ve got to get out of this funk. It’s not doing you any favors.”

  “I’m not sure what the alternative would be,” I said. “I feel like I could be worse. At least I haven’t gotten shitfaced every night.”

  “Only because there’s no wine in the house and you haven’t left the apartment in five days,” Cressida pointed out.

  “Let me have this one.”

  She sighed. “Fine. I suppose you could be handling it worse.”

  I rolled over and peered out at her from my hidey-hole. “I really liked him, Cressida. Not just romantically, either. I liked him as a person. I really thought he was different. Until he threw me out like a piece of trash.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “He did do that. And it sucks. But you’re not going to get over it by actually turning yourself into a piece of trash.”

  “Rude.”

  “Your floor is covered in snack wrappers. I didn’t even realize they made Fruit by the Foot anymore.”

  “Of course they do,” I grumbled. “Kids think they’re delicious and they help you measure distances.”

  Cressida leaned over and rested her head on my shoulder, staring down at me. “I have an idea.”

  “I only want to hear it if it involves chemically induced amnesia,” I replied, “I hear they’ve yet to test it on humans but it is possible.”

  She chuckled and flicked my nose.

  Against my will, a smile flickered on my lips.

  “This is how I know you’re going to be okay,” she said.

  “Because I’m resourceful and will find a way to permanently blot him from my memory?”

  “Because you’re being dramatic.”

  I raised a quizzical brow. “I’m not sure we’re on the same page.”

  Cressida curled her legs up onto the bed and poked at my side. At least I’m sure she thought it was my side. It was my boob.

  “You’ve got stages of grief, just like everyone else,” she said. “You sink into yourself and disappear when things are really bad. But when you’re on the way out, you just get really whiny and dramatic.”

  “How nice of you to trivialize my pain,” I said dryly.

  “That’s the spirit!” She patted my rump and struggled into a seated position. “It’s time to get out of bed. We’re going shopping.”

  Her big idea was to go shopping? I glowered up at her, refusing to move an inch. “I’m not sure you got the part where I’m moping for the next unknown amount of time,” I told her. “That doesn’t involve shopping.”

  “And I’m not sure you got the part where it wasn’t a question.” She grabbed for the blanket and yanked it back with a swiftness that surprised me. I desperately scrabbled for it, but the duvet slipped through my groping fingers.

  “No!” I cried.

  My roommate tossed the blanket to the other side of the room, staring down at me triumphantly. Then she took in my appearance and wrinkled her nose.

  “Shower first, then we shop,” she amended.

  “You can’t make me get up.”

  A wicked grin flitted over Cressida’s lips. “Oh, can’t I?” she asked. “I’ve got about three inches and twenty to thirty pounds on you, woman. Neither of us will enjoy it very much, but I can get you out of this bed and showered with my bare hands.”

  She was right. And she’d do it, too.

  “Please, Cress,” I implored. “I’ll shower, but I don’t want to go out.”

  “If I agreed to that, it would only be to trick you,” she said, “but I don’t think that would be fair given your current mental state.”

  “Why is it so important that we go shopping?”

  She reached into the back pocket of her jeans and produced a crumpled square of paper. I stared at it with vehemence.

  “I threw that out,” I muttered.

  “I know.” She glanced at it. “What were you thinking? This is clearly recyclable.”

  “I’m not going to the party, Cress.”

  She dangled the invite in front of my face. “You are,” she said.

  “Seeing him will only make this worse!” I complained. “And he doesn’t want me there. That point was quite clear.”

  Cressida pressed a hand to her hip. “This isn’t about you,” she stated. “And that’s why I know you’ll come.”

  Ominous.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Damien’s going to be at this party,” she explained. “And since you and Oliver are on the outs, this will be my last chance to find him and apologize.”

  My mouth dropped open. She was positively devious. An evil genius. She knew I couldn’t deny her that!

  “So?” Her foot tapped against the floor, a chocolate bar wrapper crinkling with each movement. “Are you getting out of bed or are you going to stay there and let me rot in my own self-loathing for the rest of my life?”

  I groaned and kicked myself up to a sitting position. “Who’s being dramatic now?” I asked.

  Cressida winked. “Live with the best, learn from the best.”

  27

  Elizabeth

  I pulled at the stretchy material of the dress, willing it to give my hips a little breathing room. The dress did not comply. I allowed it to plaster back to my skin and turned my gaze over to Cressida, who was applying lipstick for the third time since we left the house.

  “You look great,” I assured her.

/>   She pressed her lips together and angled the mirror to get a different perspective. “We both do,” she replied.

  I eyed my sparkly black second skin again. She was right. I’d never seen my boobs look so perky. Maybe it was all the food I ate after getting fired.

  The cab driver pulled up at the top of the circular driveway. He stopped amongst limos and exotic cars that each probably cost more than everything I owned, and I felt a bit sheepish preparing to get out. Who knew that arriving in a cab would make us the ones to stand out? We were probably the only ones here without a chauffeur.

  Cress paid the driver and we each slid out onto the pavement. She stared around in wonder.

  “You’re kidding me,” she breathed.

  I chuckled. “Wish that I were.”

  The mansion had been decked out in string lights, and live music drifted out to us from somewhere out back. The front door was flung open to the warm evening air, though nobody hung around it.

  Good. I didn’t want to be noticed.

  “This way,” I said, gesturing for her to follow. “I think most of the party stuff is happening in the library and the garden.”

  “I can’t wait to see the library!” Cressida exclaimed, jogging along after me.

  My friend had never seen the house in person, but I’d shown her lots of pictures of my work. I’d also talked about it extensively. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she got inside and instinctively knew her way around.

  Just past the foyer, we started encountering people. I didn’t know any of them personally, but I recognized a few minor celebrities and famous business owners. Oliver was clearly a well-connected guy, which made me wonder why he didn’t throw parties like this more often.

  “I’m so overwhelmed,” Cressida said, grabbing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter. “I don’t know where to go or what to do first.”

  I took a sip of my drink and grimaced. I’d never cared much for champagne. But hey, free booze.

  “I don’t really want to run into Oliver,” I reminded her. “Can we just find Damien, apologize, and get out before anyone sees us?”

 

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