Savage: A Bad Boy Fake Fiancé Romance

by Kira Blakely

  “No, sir.” He bobbed his head and flattened his palm to the name tag attached to his uniform.

  “Good, because that would be a pointless exercise. I know all the cops.”

  “Sir, that’s not the problem.” He shuffled around the desk but still kept his distance, as if afraid I’d launch myself at him like a rabid animal.

  “Enlighten me.”

  “Ms. Abbott isn’t home.”

  I deflated, shoulders sagged a little, but I straightened them right the fuck out again. “All right. When will she be home?”

  “Sir, I’m not sure.”

  “Why not?”

  “I—she left with several bags and the little girl, too.”

  “She left?” I marched across the marble floor and right up to him.

  He shrank into himself like two testicles shrinking from a bucket of ice. “Sir, yes, sir.”

  “Where did she go? Tell me, man. Where?” I clenched and unclenched my fists, scanned him for the answer.

  “I don’t know, sir. But she’s gone.”

  Chapter 26

  Olivia

  I shut the door and backed away from it until my ass hit the side of the sofa, still clutching the papers.

  It’d finally happened.

  Nicki and George had taken the next step, and I’d been served with custody papers. The document trembled in my hands. This had been a long time coming, but a part of me had hoped they’d forget about it, or decide that this wasn’t worth the trouble for whatever eventual payout they believed they’d get from looking after Penny.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and exhaled.

  We’d had such a great weekend together up in Ithaca. We’d laughed and played, and it’d felt like home all over again, apart from the fact that every turn of the corner had brought another memory of Beckett crashing into my mind.

  And now this.

  I got up again, forced some steel into my spine, and walked through to the kitchen where I’d left my cell. I picked it up and dialed the number for my lawyer’s office.

  “Goldschmidt and Warburton, how may I help?” the receptionist whined.

  “Hi,” I said. “I’d like to speak to Mr. Goldschmidt.”

  “Who may I say is calling?”

  “It’s Olivia Abbott,” I replied. “It’s urgent.”

  “One moment please.” God, she was a caricature of what a receptionist should be. Totally nasal and disinterested—it was a miracle she hadn’t smacked gum.

  I listened to a short melody I couldn’t quite place, and then the line clicked.

  “Ms. Abbott,” Goldschmidt said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I’m not sure it’s a pleasure,” I replied. “I’ve just been served with custody papers. They’re going through with it, after all. I’m not sure what we do from here. I’d like to talk about the next steps.”

  “Of course.” The lawyer shuffled papers on his end of the line. “But we’ll need to set up an appointment for this.”

  “Are you available today?” My intestines knotted right up. The thought of sitting here, waiting for him to tell me what my options were—and putting on a brave face for Penny all the while—made me sick to my stomach.

  “Actually, yes. Let me put you back through to my receptionist, and you can schedule an appointment with her for this afternoon.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Goldschmidt. I appreciate you meeting with me on such short notice.”

  “Of course. I’ll see you later.”

  He switched me back through to the nasal Ghostbusters receptionist, and I gave her my details and took down the appointment time myself. I had a couple hours to kill before I’d have to leave, so I went through to Penny’s room to check on her and grinned when I found her awake and sitting up in her crib, hugging her purple teddy.

  “Beck poo,” she said. “I love Beck poo so much. He’s pretty.”

  “Yes, he is.” I picked her up and ignored the pang that sliced right through my chest. “We’re going to go for a walk to see Mr. Goldschmidt soon, sweetheart. Do you want some food?”

  “Yes, please.”

  We spent the next half an hour eating, playing, and chatting, but still nothing could erase thoughts of the custody hearing or Beckett. It was my new obsession, and playing with Penny didn’t help, simply because every little thing she did reminded me of what was to come.

  I placed her in her playpen then fetched the papers on the kitchen counter and looked over them, panic building in my chest.

  It’s going to be OK. You’re going to be OK. They can’t take her away from you.

  My phone buzzed, and I squirmed it out of the front pocket of my jeans then scanned the screen.

  Unknown number.

  I set the papers aside and watched it ring for a couple seconds, my thumb hovering over the green phone icon on the screen. Finally, I shrugged and answered. “Hello?”

  “Olivia.” George’s voice scratched through the speaker, and I latched onto the countertop, its granite cold against my skin.

  Now, here’s why you never answer a number you don’t know.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “Dear, there’s no need to be so hostile. I’m sure you understand that everything we’re doing is in you and Penny’s best interests. We just want to make sure that she has a good future, and that you have one, too.”

  “That’s the reason?” I held back a laugh. “So, it’s got nothing to do with Penny’s trust fund. You know, you’ll never be able to access it.”

  George fell silent for a minute, and I waited, my breaths catching in my chest.

  “We don’t care about money. We’re not like you, Olivia. All we care about is helping her.”

  I had to remain calm. If I got angry, George might find a way to use it against me in court and make me look unhinged. “George, I’m not entirely sure why you’ve called me. Honestly, I don’t have time to talk. I have Penny to look after and a meeting with my lawyer in an hour.”

  “Oh,” George said. “I hoped you would make this simple, Olivia. You’re clearly unfit to be her guardian, after the stunt you just pulled with that horrible man Price.”

  “What do you mean, make it easy?”

  “Just hand Penny over to us. Give her to us, and all of your problems will go away. You can go back to living your New York high life and drinking or doing drugs or whatever it is you people do out there.”

  “I’ve never done—it doesn’t matter what you think, George. I’m not giving up Penny, and I never will. She’s everything to me. She’s more my blood than she is yours, and I know what’s best for her. What her father wanted.”

  “Olivia, try to be reasonable here. This could end in embarrassment and heartbreak for you.”

  Been there, done that.

  Embarrassment? Everyone knew I’d faked an engagement with the most eligible bachelor in Manhattan, and there were already rumors floating around on social media that it was because he’d pitied me.

  Heartbreak? Beckett had taken care of that several times over the past ten years, and I’d helped him, basically handed him my heart on a silver platter.

  “No,” I said. “You’ll have to fight me for her. I will never let my Penny go.” I wrenched the phone from my ear and hung up, hands shaking.

  The view from the living room, the skyscrapers and the park below, had always been my favorite, but it did nothing for me now. If only we’d moved to Ithaca at the start. If only I’d never run into Beckett in the Granite Room.

  Ugh, the time for “if only” was past.

  The next hour passed, and I prepared Penny for our meeting with Goldschmidt, packed a little bag with her favorite toys and books and a change of clothes, just in case. Then we headed out and into the elevator together with the stroller.

  The doors closed, and the numbers ticked down overhead until we reached the ground floor.

  “Here we go,” I muttered.

  They opened, and I pushed the stroller out and into the lobby,
across the marble floor. The doorman greeted me, and I tried for a smile before opening the glass door myself and walking out onto the sidewalk.

  “Beck poo!” Penny cried.

  “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” I bent and checked the silky teddy was still all right.

  “Beck poo, Beck poo here.” She looked past me, both her arms thrown wide, and a gummy grin parting her lips.

  No. Please god, no.

  I looked up and met his gaze.

  My insides coagulated. My legs trembled. The sidewalk, the street, and everything else was a glazed over dream, clouds of mist, and he was the only real thing. The only real person.

  Beckett wore a pair of jeans that hugged his strong thighs and a buttoned shirt that was undone a little at the top to expose his tattoos. His coal black eyes flashed and drank me in, gaze skittering up and down, back again, even as I did the same to him.

  Thick, tan forearms, dark hairs, strong hands. So strong.

  God, he’d spanked me with those hands. He’d touched me, brought me release with those thick fingers.

  His full lips parted, and his tongue swept over the bottom one. He didn’t speak.

  “Beck poo!” Penny cried again.

  “Hey, girl,” he said, concentrating on her instead of me.

  Good, that was fine. I could handle that.

  “I want hug.” Penny was insistent, sitting forward in her stroller, practically craning her neck to get a good look at him.

  He strode forward, and the wash of his cologne, the hint of amber and the fabric of my cosmos, assaulted my nostrils.

  I stiffened and tightened my grip on the handle of Penny’s stroller.

  Keep it together. Don’t let this feeling control you. He’s not yours, and he never has been.

  I couldn’t keep myself from drinking him in, though.

  He bent and drew Penny into a hug, then gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “How have you been, sweetheart?”

  “Good. We gonna live in new place.” She was emphatic about that. “Libya take us there.”

  “Now?” he asked and looked up at me.

  I stared back at him without answering.

  “Look my bear, Beck poo,” Penny said and lifted the purple silk teddy.

  Beckett took it, and his eyebrows jumped upward. “Whoa. Is this—?” He shook his head and chuckled. “Amazing.”

  “You like him?”

  “Yeah, I love him, sweetie,” he said and handed the teddy back to Penny. “I need to speak to your auntie, now, OK?”

  “OK.” She gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

  Beckett stood again, and the pressure in my chest slammed home. I turned the stroller, carefully, and set off down the street, leaving him behind.

  “O,” he said, behind me. He followed. I couldn’t make out his footsteps above the rush of traffic, or the other city sounds resonating around us, but I felt him. I felt his presence behind me.

  He appeared beside me, keeping an easy pace. “O, please.”

  Please? Beckett never asked nicely. I gritted my teeth. It’s another ploy. Don’t let him in. Don’t let him use you again.

  “We need to talk.”

  I shook my head and jammed my lips together. I didn’t trust myself to speak without crying or screaming or falling back into him again.

  “I haven’t been good to you,” he said. “There’s something I need to tell you. I just need the chance to say it in private. Can you give me that chance?”

  It was the closest to groveling I’d ever heard from him, but I hardassed it and walked on. We walked in silence for a while, and Beckett didn’t leave. He didn’t veer off into another street or call a cab and give up the game.

  The game. That was all this was.

  Instead, he kept pace with us, all the way to the office building of Goldschmidt and Warburton. I made to open the door, but he caught my wrist and held it.

  “Look at me, Olivia,” he growled. “Look at me. I won’t let it end like this.”

  I looked at him, let him witness the ice in my gaze, and pulled my arm from his grip.

  “Don’t do this without hearing me out first.” He reached up to brush my hair from my neck, as he’d done so many times before, and I spun on the spot and entered the building before he got the chance, biting back tears.

  Penny. This was all about Penny now.

  Beckett was a part of the past. A part of the problem.

  No more regrets. Never again.

  Still, I couldn’t help glancing back.

  He was gone.

  Chapter 27

  Beckett

  I waited on the other side of the road, my phone in my hand and my gaze fixed to the front doors of the building. She wouldn’t even speak to me. She wouldn’t even reply to a single thing I’d said.

  It was the same silent treatment I’d given her years ago, when I’d walked right out of her life and never come back.

  Maybe I deserved this shit for what I’d put her through. If it’d felt like this, I understood her anger. Each second she was in there was a second too long.

  Goldschmidt and Warburton, attorneys at law. That had to mean she’d been served the custody papers, and that our little stunt, which had admittedly fallen through, had failed spectacularly.

  Her freeloader family was on the job, and Penny would be the payoff.

  I sat down on one of the benches slightly removed from the sidewalk and cupped my phone between my palms. My mind worked on everything that’d taken place in the past couple weeks.

  She wouldn’t talk to me. She hadn’t told me to fuck off, but she wouldn’t talk.

  If she wouldn’t listen, I’d have to show her without words.

  I unlocked my phone screen and called the dreaded number. The one I’d never thought I’d call in this context.

  I pressed the phone to my ear and sat back against the wooden slats, draped my arm over the top of the bench, rested my ankle on my knee and watched those glass front doors.

  Why hasn’t she come out yet? It’s a longass meeting and that means it’s—

  “Cooper Investments. How may I help you?” The receptionist was suitably upbeat. She was probably an intern and got the coffee wrong most days. “Hello? This is Cooper Investments, how may I be of service to you?”

  I ground my teeth. A cabbie laid on the horn down the road, and I blocked my other ear.

  “This is Beckett Price,” I said, arrogance leaking into my tone. “Put me through to Cooper.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Price, but I can’t just—” There was a scuffle of movement and then the voice on the other end of the line changed. “Mr. Price, how are you this afternoon?” It was a different woman, this one terse and definitely not an intern.

  “I’d be better if your receptionist didn’t sound like she was about to break into song. Put me through to Cooper. Now.”

  “Apologies, Mr. Price. She’s new. Sir, give me one moment, please.” The equally upbeat and endlessly annoying melody pumped through the speaker of my phone, and I lifted it from my ear as I waited, still obsessing over the glass doors and the woman inside that building.

  This thing with Cooper? It was just the first step. After this, I’d, fuck it, I’d have to find them and make them squeal like the two little piggies they were.

  “Mr. Price?” The terse chick came back on the line, and I rammed the phone to my ear.

  “Yeah.”

  “Please hold for Mr. Cooper.”

  “Fine.”

  Another tune jaunted through the speaker, and I shifted both feet to the gritty sidewalk and tapped my heels. Not in time with the music or anything, just out of frustration.

  The tune clicked off again. “This is Cooper.” His gravelly voice instantly pissed me off, but I didn’t have a choice here. This was my now or never.

  “And this is Price,” I replied.

  “Well, well, well, didn’t think I’d be hearing from you again, buddy. I thought you were sulking after our little call the o
ther day.”

  Man, this was the ultimate fucking humiliation, but it had to be done. Cooper had said our rivalry was friendly, but that was a lie. I’d never liked this fucker. Grudgingly respected him, yeah, but never liked him.

  “To what do I owe this extreme pleasure?” Cooper purred.

  I envisioned throat-punching him so hard he choked on his own blood. “Pleasure, maybe. We’ll see. I need you to buy my business.”

  Deathly silence.

  I watched the door. It opened, and a man exited, walking with his cell glued to his ear. No Olivia, not yet.

  “I’m sorry, could you repeat that? I either just hallucinated or had an aneurysm,” Cooper said, at last, sounding breathless. Actually breathless.

  That was how much this business meant to him. How he felt about Cooper Investments was how I felt about Olivia. Then again, he probably didn’t want to fuck his business. The intern, yeah, but the brick and mortar, not so much.

  “You heard me correctly,” I said. “I want you to buy me out. At a good price. You can assimilate Price Capital into your business and do with it what you will.”

  “What the hell, Price? Why?”

  “Because some things in life are more important than work.”

  “Name one,” he replied.

  I sucked my teeth. “Never mind. I’ll sell to someone else.”

  “No, no, no. I’ll buy you out, but we’ll have to meet in person to discuss this.” He was positively gleeful about it. “We’ll get the lawyers involved, of course.”

  “Whatever it takes,” I said. “This is something I have to do.”

  Cooper exhaled. “Man, as much as I love the thought of owning Price Capital, I have to ask.”

  “Ask what?”

  “Are you sure about this? Because once the deal goes through, there’s no going back.”

  The front door of the lawyer’s building opened, and Olivia walked out, pushing Penny’s stroller.

  “I’m sure,” I said. “My assistant will set it up.” I hung up and launched off the bench, checked the coast was clear, then crossed the street and walked up beside my woman. My woman? She wasn’t yet. She would be.

  “How did it go?” I asked.