Taking Control: A Billionaire Boss Romance (Playboys of New York Book 4)

by JA Low

  “How’s work going?” I ask.

  “I hate it.” She groans. “Hate the boys club. Hate the men in my office who think I don’t know shit about buildings.”

  “Then why don’t you look for a new job, or even better, go out on your own?”

  “You’re not the only one at the moment who has things to think about.”

  I lay back further in the chair and turn my head to look over at Ariana. “We’re a right mess, the pair of us, aren’t we?”

  We both break out into giggles.

  “We are. But we have all this….” she waves her hand in front of us, “… to help us see clearly.” She’s right. “Oh, and that…” Ariana points to a hot guy running along the beach without a shirt on, “… that helps.”

  Her words have us both bursting out in laughter.

  27

  Stella

  I’m woken by the sun streaming in through my window. I had the best night’s sleep last night listening to the ocean.

  No sirens.

  No honking of horns.

  Nothing.

  I sit up in bed and view the beach and ocean. My brain instantly wants to stroll down the beach, but then I remember the big plaster cast on my leg, and frustration filters through my soul. I get myself up, hobble into the bathroom to freshen up, and then head out into the living area. There’s a note.

  Just gone for a run.

  Ari xoxo

  I wish I could go for a run. That thought makes me laugh. You don’t run. But for some reason, now that I can’t, I want to more than anything. I open the refrigerator and find a bowl of fruit. I grab it and a bottle of water and pop it in a basket so I can hold them all with my crutches and head out to the pool area to eat. I take a seat on the sun lounge and pop a raspberry in my mouth and exhale.

  My mind keeps wandering back to home. How much I miss the ranch, the familiarity of a small town, the fresh mountain air, my family…

  EJ’s question from the other day about family sticking together filters into my mind.

  I know I should tell them about what’s happened, but I don’t know if they will even care. My phone feels like it’s burning a hole in my side while I contemplate my decision.

  Screw it.

  Picking up my phone, I send a text message to my brothers and sister.

  Stella: Hey. I know it’s been a long time since we’ve chatted, but I thought I’d let you know a little while ago while in Vegas, I was in a serious car accident. I was lucky. It could have been worse. I have a broken leg and some bruises. You don’t have to worry. I’m all good. Just thought I’d let you know. Stella xo

  There done.

  I feel better.

  I made the first move, and it is what it is.

  Moments later, my phone starts buzzing. Oh crap. Looking down at the screen, it’s my eldest brother Jesse calling.

  “Hello,” I tentatively answer the phone.

  “Stells, what the hell?” Jesse raises his voice. “What’s going on?” I can hear concern laced into his tone.

  “I’m fine,” I try to reassure him. “I just thought I’d let you know.” Now I feel bad that I’ve panicked them so much for no reason.

  “You were in an accident, Stell. We could have lost you,” he tells me.

  Tears begin to well in my eyes. “But I’m fine.”

  “Does Dad know?” he asks.

  “No. I’ve only texted you guys. I thought you’d be busy. I wasn’t expecting a call.”

  The line goes quiet.

  “Stell. You’re my lil’ sis. Of course, I would be worried.” His voice softens. “Especially as we don’t hear from you much.” Guilt stabs me right in the heart. “And then we do, and it’s to say you’ve been in an accident.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stell, you don’t have to apologize for reaching out. We miss you. Dad misses you.” An avalanche of tears cascades down my cheeks as emotion takes over. “He would love to see you.”

  I haven’t been home in over five years. I just couldn’t. Not after Mom died and Dad moved Claire in, desecrating Mom’s memory so quickly.

  “I can’t.” Emotion is getting the better of me.

  “He’s not getting any younger,” Jesse warns.

  “Is something the matter?” I ask, concerned.

  “No. Dad’s still fit as a fiddle, but you can’t turn back time. Is there a chance you could come out and see us? I know it would mean the world to him and us.”

  “I can’t fly with my leg in a cast,” I explain.

  “Right, of course.”

  “But maybe I can once it’s off,” I reassure him.

  “You would?” The tone of his voice is hopeful.

  “Yeah, I think it’s been long enough,” I reply, letting out a heavy sigh.

  “Stell, this is fantastic news. We miss you, kiddo, so much. We follow your life online, and we’re so proud of you.” Tears start to fall again. “You were never made for small-town life,” my brother tells me. “You were always destined for something bigger.” I suck in a deep breath. “You’re happy?” he asks.

  “I thought I was before the accident, but now I’m a little lost,” I confess.

  “Remember when I had that riding accident that stopped my football career before it had a chance to begin…”

  Jesse was in his senior year when he was helping Dad muster the cattle to move them to another yard, and one bolted. Jesse gave chase, but his horse was startled when the bull charged them. She ran and took Jesse along for the ride. She tried to buck him off a couple of times until eventually, she did. Unfortunately for him, the bull didn’t stop either and ran right over the top, trampling him—he had a long recovery from his broken bones. I can’t believe I had forgotten all about that. Now I feel like a fool for moping around over my broken leg when his entire body was broken after that accident, so I answer, “Yeah.”

  “Remember how lost I was afterward. Felt like nothing mattered, but at the same time, everything did,” Jesse explains. “I felt like a different person when I woke up. It was hard to explain to people, especially waking up and not wanting to pursue a football career anymore.”

  “Yeah, and you told Mom and Dad that you weren’t going to college.” I remember that conversation and how it went down like a lead balloon.

  “Yes. And they made me do a business degree because I would always use it no matter what I did.”

  “But what does that have to with me?” I question, wondering where the hell this train of thought is coming from.

  “All I’m saying is… when one door closes, another door opens.” He chuckles.

  “That’s a roundabout way of saying it,” I tease.

  “You know I’m not good with my words,” he tells me. “But you get what I mean. You’re allowed to question life after nearly losing it. You only get one, so you might as well be happy.”

  “Thanks, Jesse.” That makes me feel good because I know he’s right.

  “Don’t be a stranger, kiddo.”

  “I’ll try not to,” I agree with him. “Is everyone else good?”

  “Yeah, all good here. Same old same old.” This remark makes me smile. “I’m sure they’re trying to get through to you now as I speak.” He chuckles. “They’ve missed you a ton, too.”

  My heart begins to ache at his words.

  “Especially Lacey. She’s been stuck with us two guys for years.”

  I miss my sister. We were close once, each one of us only a year apart, and I guess that’s why I felt utterly betrayed by their acceptance of Dad hooking up with Mom’s friend so soon. I didn’t understand it, and in my grief, I found it easy to turn my back on them all. I shed Montana Stella Price and became New York Stella Price, and now I’m wondering who the real me is.

  “I’m sorry for being away for so long.” Finally, I find the courage to say it out loud.

  “Stell, we all got it. We understood, but we all thought you would eventually come home, and that you would sometime return our
phone calls,” Jesse explains. “It’s like when you moved to New York, you left us all behind. We had just lost Mom, and a couple of months later, we lost you, too.” Oh. “The way you ghosted your family, Stella, was like a death.”

  Shit. Jesse’s words hit me like tiny little guilt arrows to my heart.

  “The odd phone call here and there for our birthdays or the holidays was never enough. But none of us wanted to give those precious calls up by pushing for more.”

  I break down. My family was scared of me and what I might say or do? What the hell have I done?

  “Stell, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” I can hear the panic in my brother’s voice.

  “I’m sorry, Jesse. I’m sorry to you, to Austin, to Lacey. I’m sorry to Dad, too. I had to leave, though. I simply couldn’t be there anymore.” Cradling the sun lounge’s pillow, I break down while trying to get over my point.

  “We know. We understand. I’m sorry none of us listened to your grief. I think we were all dealing with it in our way, and that may not have been the right way,” Jesse explains. “We want you back in our lives, Stell,” Jesse tells me.

  “I want to be back in them, too.” A sigh of relief echoes down the phone from him. “I feel like I’ve missed out on so much.” Shaking my head over the heartbreaking situation that I created for myself and my family, I know I’ve made matters worse for my family, not better, and I need to fix it. “Come out here.” The words fall from my mouth before I have time to think about them.

  “What did you say?” Jesse asks me to repeat myself.

  “I’ve rented a house in The Hamptons to recover. There’s plenty of room. Why don’t you, Austin, and Lacey come out?” I ask. There’s silence for a couple of moments. Maybe I’ve pushed the family thing too soon. “Sorry, you’ve probably got too much going on with the ranch and stuff. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “Hey now,” Jesses quips. “I didn’t say that. I was just trying to think over what I had planned. Let me juggle some things and talk to Austin and Lacey and see what we can do. You sure you want us there?” he questions.

  “Yes. For sure. I think it’s exactly what I need.”

  Jesse chuckles. “Alrighty then. I’ll be in touch.” I can hear the smile in his voice, and it makes my heart happy. “It was good to hear from you today, kiddo,” he confesses.

  “Thanks for calling me,” I reply.

  “Anytime. Don’t be a stranger, okay?” he states before hanging up.

  Wow. What a roller coaster ride of emotions.

  I look down at my phone to a couple of missed calls from Austin and Lacey and a few text messages.

  The weight finally feels like it’s been lifted off of me.

  28

  EJ

  It’s been days since Stella left for The Hamptons, and my apartment feels empty. I don’t like my space anymore because it reminds me of her. I’ve been a moping mess, and the worst part is that Stella hasn’t even texted me. But she does have time to update her Instagram with pictures of her having a great time, especially with Gray. I know Ariana is behind the camera taking the photographs and videos because they star Gray and Stella working out together. However, Stella still posts them with captions like ‘Working hard in the sun’ #brokenlegsucks #exercisesucks #exhausted #greatview and a picture of her and a shirtless Gray.

  I’m jealous.

  It sucks.

  It hurts deep.

  I’ve spent most of my time hitting the punching bag in my gym, thinking it’s Gray’s face. She’s swapped one fuckboy for another. How does she not see this? Urgh. She has a type, and Gray is one hundred percent that man.

  My sister is trying to distract me with all her elaborate plans for getting Stella and me together. They are ridiculous, but it makes her happy, so I’ve left her to it. Someone should be happy.

  Speaking of someone who isn’t happy—Anderson West. He’s back from France sans Emma. I’m on my way over there now to try to cheer him up or happily sit in melancholy—I’m good with either.

  I let myself into Anderson’s apartment and find him sitting on his couch with a beer in his hand, track pants on, and a T-shirt. Okay. This is bad. I’ve never seen Anderson dress so casually as I look him up and down.

  And hang on, is that food stains on his shirt?

  “Hey, Andy.” Calling out as I walk toward him, I don’t want to surprise him in the state that he’s obviously in. He holds up his hand in the air, gives me a weird wave, and lets it fall back down. There’s a six-pack of beer on his kitchen counter, so I help myself to one and sit on the couch opposite him.

  “So, France didn’t go so well, then?” I ask him straight out. No beating around the bush pretending everything is okay when he looks the way he does because it’s blatantly apparent it is not.

  “Nope.” He takes a long draw of his beer. “She needs time.” He shrugs his shoulders. I know the feeling, except his is way worse because that’s his fucking wife. My situation is simply a pipe dream right now.

  “Trauma does that to people,” I tell him, cracking my beer open and taking a swig.

  He turns and looks over at me, and his brows squint together before he takes another sip of his beer. “Did you and Stella sort your shit out?”

  “Nope. She moved out the other day.”

  Anderson’s hand stops midway, and he turns his head. “How the hell did you fuck it up since I’ve been gone?” he questions me.

  “I didn’t fuck up,” I try to explain myself. “She told me she needed time to sort her shit out.”

  Anderson listens to my answer and nods his head in understanding. “It’s crazy how much damage this car accident has done to people who weren’t even there,” he mumbles to himself.

  He’s right.

  There are the physical scars on the injured parties, but then there’s also the trauma of the accident on the people around them trying to deal with the aftermath.

  “You think Emma’s coming home?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” He shrugs sadly. “She told me she was, and I have to believe she will in a couple of months.”

  “A couple of months?”

  He nods his head.

  I whistle my shock.

  How the hell is he going to be able to cope for that amount of time without her?

  “It’s what she needs, and I’ll give it to her. I’m not going anywhere,” he tells me reverently. “Can you please continue telling me how you’ve fucked everything up with Stella, so I have something else to think about than my shit?” He smiles, the fucking bastard.

  “Where the hell do I start?”

  “At the fucking beginning.” Anderson smirks.

  So, I do.

  We talk for ages about everything that has happened since the accident. Anderson listens to me chatter on about Stella. He nodded in all the right places, and he asks questions, or he shakes his head when he needs to. We finish a couple more beers as I keep telling the story.

  “And now, here I am,” I finish off.

  Anderson turns and looks at me, his face becoming serious. “It’s all fucking bullshit,” he curses. I stare at him in surprise at his outburst. “Drama for no fucking reason,” he adds.

  Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to unload my shit on him at this time. What the hell was I thinking?

  “If you want Stella, tell her. Show her. Don’t let her go,” he tells me.

  “I can’t just go up to The Hamptons for no reason. She asked for space. I have to respect that.”

  Anderson angrily shakes his head. “I flew halfway across the world for my woman. To talk to her. To listen to her. To show Emma that no matter what, I was there for her. And to tell her I would wait for however long I needed to till she was ready for me.”

  “And yet, you’re here.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I wanted to shove them back in and wish I had never uttered them.

  Anderson’s face twists angrily as he looks at me. “Get out,” he screams.

  “Andy
.” Raising my hands, I try to placate him.

  “Get the hell out, EJ. You don’t understand,” he yells. “You’ve never been in love before. You will never understand the torment I’m going through.”

  “I know, I’m sorry,” I tell him as he pushes me toward his door. “I’m envious of you.”

  My confession stops him.

  He tilts his head as he looks me over.

  “You found love. You found a chance of a future with someone.” Anderson sucks in a deep breath. “Emma is going to come back. She loves you. I’ve seen it first-hand. The night before the accident when you proposed to Emma for real this time, the way she looked at you that night, the way the two of you looked at each other, I’ve never been so jealous of you in my entire life.” I am laying it all out there. “No one has ever looked at me like that.”

  Anderson’s face softens a little, and his hands unfurl from the white-knuckled fists he had clenched.

  “Except Stella does,” Anderson tells me.

  I frown at his comment. “No, she doesn’t. All she sees is the New York playboy.” I let out a heavy sigh.

  “She does when you’re not looking,” Anderson tells me. “There’s been plenty of times Stella has looked at you as if you hung the moon and the stars in the sky.” I frown at his comments. “But you were too distracted by someone else.” Guilt about that fact hits me square in the chest. “I get it,” Anderson tells me. “I, too, was distracted there for a while,” he explains. “It just depends on how much you want it now that you’re not distracted?”

  “I’m torn because we’ve only really kissed. What happens if we aren’t compatible?”

  “Are you seriously thinking with your dick, right now?” Anderson asks me, the perplexed look has me doubting myself instantly.

  “Um…” He shakes his head, disappointment evident in his eyes.

  “If you are doing all this just to get into Stella’s pants, then you’re a dick,” he tells me honestly. “You have a million women on your speed dial. Call them if you want to get laid.”