Ruthless

by Deborah Bladon

  My silence wasn’t just because I agreed with him. I was in shock. Seeing Emil was jarring. I’m over him, but there’s still a bite of something when I see him. Maybe it’s regret that I stuck it out as long as I did.

  “What’s the story with you two?” Barrett presses for more. “Does he fall into the one and done category?”

  I close my eyes briefly before I turn and look at him. “No. I thought Emil was the one until it was done.”

  Chapter 25

  Barrett

  The one.

  That’s a concept I’ve never been able to wrap my head around. How in the hell does a person decide to devote himself or herself to one human being for eternity?

  The deer-in-the-headlights look on Isabella’s face when she saw Burdeon told me enough of their story that I knew he was someone special to her.

  To hear that he was almost “the one” is still surprising.

  When I was in my early twenties, I couldn’t nail down a decision about what to eat for breakfast. Isabella was light years ahead of me if she was contemplating whether a guy was the forever to her happy-ever-after.

  I don’t talk rainbows, butterflies, or anything related to hearts, but I dive in because this is a story I want to hear. “You were in love with him?”

  She looks just as surprised that I asked the question as I am. She nods. “For a time, I was, yes.”

  Not giving a shit that the question is completely out-of-line, I ask it. “What happened?”

  She shifts on the bench. “Life happened.”

  It’s none of my fucking business. That’s what her body language is telling me. She’s as uncomfortable now as she was when she saw me without a shirt. The problem is that this time, I’m pushing her to a place she doesn’t want to go.

  Just as I’m about to suggest we hit up a bar a block over for a drink to talk business, she darts to her feet. “I need to go home.”

  Like hell she does.

  Tossing the paper cup in my hand in the trash, I stand. “What’s the rush?”

  “I start work early.”

  “You start at eight,” I point out.

  Her gaze darts over her shoulder. I follow her lead and spot Burdeon rounding the corner headed in our direction.

  She knew. She fucking knew he would come back looking for her. This has to be his pattern because she sure as hell doesn’t seem surprised to see him.

  Resignation pulls her shoulders forward. She’s weary. This asshole has worn her out emotionally. I saw the same expression on my mother’s face each time my father circled back around, proclaiming his undying devotion to her.

  “It looks like you have company,” I say in an even tone.

  Her eyes find mine. “He thinks…”

  “That you’ll want him back at some point,” I finish the thought for her.

  Burdeon approaches at an even pace. I keep my gaze locked on him.

  “Yes,” she answers quietly. “Our break up was messy.”

  I round her so I’m the one he has to face. I don’t know why the fuck I’m putting myself in the middle of this, but I have an overpowering need to protect Isabella.

  “What?” I bark at him as he nears.

  “Bella,” he calls out to her even though her back is still to him. “Give me thirty minutes. I’m asking for one cosmo for old time’s sake. Amore Mio, please.”

  I feel her move behind me. Those words pierced something inside of her because she’s next to me and face-to-face with him before I realize what the fuck is going on.

  I sense her gaze floating over the side of my face, but I keep my eyes trained on Burdeon. I want to tell him to go to hell, even though I know that Isabella can fight her own battles.

  “Don’t call me that,” she says quietly. “You can’t call me that anymore.”

  Amore Mio. It’s Italian for my love.

  I used the same phrase the summer after I graduated from high school when Dylan and I took to Europe for a backpacking trip. I tried to pick up an Italian woman at least ten years my senior by calling her my love. With a pat on my head and a string of Italian words I’ll never understand, she left me standing in the middle of a coffee shop with a bruised ego.

  “I have something to say.” He gestures toward me without making eye contact. “I need to do that when we’re alone. I’m not asking for more than a few minutes, Bella.”

  “I can’t.” A shake of her head punctuates the words.

  “It’s about Venla.” He reaches out a hand. “You’ll want to hear this.”

  The bait works. She drops her hand in his and steps forward. “What about her? She’s alright, isn’t she?”

  This is a conversation I have no right overhearing even though I know he’s pulling on Isabella’s heartstrings because she’s a good person. She’s too kind. She’s too much of an angel for this twisted, hardened world.

  She glances at me. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

  I’ve been brushed off with a beautiful smile. “Sure thing.”

  “Good to meet you, Baron.” Burdeon drops Isabella’s hand to extend his to me.

  I ignore it and him.

  “Barrett,” Isabella corrects him. “His name is Barrett Adler.”

  I catch her gaze briefly before I turn and walk away, leaving her in the clutches of a man who will never fully appreciate the beautiful woman standing right in front of him.

  Chapter 26

  Bella

  “How’s Venla?”

  I turn to the sound of Barrett’s voice. He’s standing in his office near the window staring out at the skyline of Manhattan.

  It’s ten minutes to eight. I’m a touch early because Gina had a meeting three blocks from here with a producer for one of the national morning shows. If I can ride the subway with my sister, I’ll do it. That’s for her, not me. The train makes her anxious. I always give her hand a squeeze when we board so she knows I’m right beside her.

  “Venla is fine,” I say.

  I’m not getting into the details about Emil’s teenage sister. The big reveal was that she was accepted to Columbia University. I haven’t spoken to her in years, but I’m still happy that she’s going to the college of her dreams.

  Before Emil could start in on how we still belong together, I told him I needed to go home. I’ll never be with him again. I owe myself more than a man who thinks my best is not enough.

  “Who is Venla?” Barrett turns to look at me.

  He’s dressed down today in a pair of jeans, a black sweater, and a dark gray suit jacket. I like the look. It’s classic, but has an edge that his tailored suits don’t offer.

  “Emil’s sister.” I shrug. “We were close a long time ago.”

  He studies me from a distance with the morning sun shooting a ray over his broad shoulders. He’s a tall man. I’d guess around six foot three since he towered over Emil. With the sunlight haloing him, he almost looks approachable, even kind.

  “I fired Daphne this morning.”

  The halo shatters into a million pieces just like that. The devil seeps back out in the sly grin on his face.

  Daphne Clegg was a Garent lifer. She was with Ivan from the start. She’s held so many positions in the company that I’ve lost count. Most recently, she was in charge of economic development for a new division that was focused on educational endeavors.

  Some Garent employees thought she made the position up herself so she could take a pay raise. I try to block out office gossip because I’ve been the focus of it more than once when people thought Duke and I were pairing up behind closed doors.

  That never happened.

  If Daphne was fired that puts her pension in jeopardy. Her plan was to retire next year. She was thinking about buying a condo in Florida a few months ago so she’d be all set when she walked out of the office for the last time.

  Holding out hope that a caring heart beats in his chest, I ask a question I’m not sure I want to know the answer to. “You mean you offered her early retirement, rig
ht? You did this to save the company money by shutting down her new division.”

  “I. Fired. Her.” He pauses between each word, so his message is loud and clear.

  I step into his office. “Why would you do that?”

  He rakes me from head-to-toe taking in the navy blue and white striped dress I’m wearing. “Because it was necessary.”

  As Duke’s assistant, I had access to all the employee’s records and I know, for a fact, that Daphne gave her all. She never had a warning or a write-up. She rarely missed a day of work. Ivan once called her the cream of the Garent crop.

  “Mr. Garent won’t like this.”

  Barrett rubs the back of his neck. “Ivan has a lot to worry about, Isabella. I doubt that he will give a shit about Daphne losing her job.”

  He’s wrong. He is so wrong. He doesn’t know Ivan the way I do.

  I fist my hands together at my sides. “I suggest you talk to Mr. Garent about this before Daphne does.”

  That sets him a full step toward me. “I suggest you call Human Resources and tell them that Daphne Clegg was terminated with just cause. Make it clear that there is no severance option here. She’ll be paid for time earned, nothing more.”

  Indignation rolls through me. “What about her pension?”

  “That’s not your concern.” He turns to the side. “Go make that call, Isabella. I want Daphne out of the building within the hour.”

  ***

  I slip the crossword puzzle out from under the file folder that keeps it hidden from the prying eyes of my boss.

  I glance at it, stopping when my gaze catches on something written in bold black ink. I look at the blue pen in my hand.

  The clue is five letters for busy.

  DOING.

  Who filled that in?

  Wait. Barrett always has a silver pen in his hand. In fact, he sent me an email yesterday telling me to order a box of pens for him. He underlined the requirement that I order the black ink model, not the blue ink one. He included a link to the website he wants me to order them from. It just so happens to be the biggest retail site on the planet. I buy virtually everything there. Duke did too, which is why I set up a corporate account for Garent Industries on the site.

  I slide the crossword back under the file folder. If I ignore the fact that he was snooping around my desk, maybe he will forget that I’ve been doing crosswords on company time.

  I wake my laptop with a tap on the screen. Navigating to the shopping site, I send a text to Max on my phone.

  Bella: Missing you.

  I key in the brand of pen and black ink into the search bar on the site. Two different options pop up.

  My gaze drifts to my phone when a new message arrives.

  Max: If it isn’t my rich best friend. I thought you forgot all about me.

  Laughing, I type out a response with one finger.

  Bella: Not possible. Dinner tonight?

  I click on the black ink pens that Barrett can’t live without. I choose the two hundred count box because it’s the most economical. Clicking on the ‘add to cart’ button, I catch sight of a new text message out of the corner of my eye.

  Max: Calvetti’s? At seven? I miss your grandma almost as much as I miss you.

  Bella: She misses you too.

  The sound of the elevator pinging its arrival sets my back straight in my chair. I type out another text.

  Bella: I think my boss is back from lunch. I need to go.

  The elevator doors spring open and Barrett strolls out. His eyes don’t leave mine as he stalks toward my desk.

  A chime from my cell goes ignored because I won’t lose this staring contest with my boss. As he nears, his gaze drops to my computer.

  “What are you working on, Isabella?” he asks smugly. “I told you earlier that I want the quarterly sales reports for Stems & Scents on my desk by five. Are you still on track for that?”

  “I’m ordering those pens you like.” I tap a finger over the place order button. “That’s done, and the sales reports are done. You’ll find them on your desk organized by date.”

  His expression gives nothing away. Why would it? He fired a long-time employee, and he hasn’t batted an eyelash. In fact, I think he went out to celebrate. A woman named Felicity called the office this morning wanting to speak to him about their lunch plans. I patched her through to his phone only to hear him laughing before he ended the call and waltzed out of here like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Smug jerk.

  He starts toward his office door before he turns back to me. “One last thing.”

  Shutting my laptop, I glance over at him. “What’s that?”

  “This was dropped off for you at reception.” He yanks a white envelope out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket. “Carol or Cheryl or whatever her name is that works the desk handed it to me on my way up. It’s for you.”

  “For me?” I hold out my hand.

  “There’s no return address.” He taps the corner of the envelope against his palm. “It’s marked personal and confidential.”

  I wiggle my fingers, curiosity nipping at me. “Give it to me, please.”

  He slides it into my hand, his fingers grazing mine briefly. “Here you go.”

  My gaze drops to the envelope. I don’t recognize the handwriting. “Thank you.”

  When I look up, his eyes search mine for something, but I can’t place it. Clearing his throat, he says, “I’ll look over those sales reports now.”

  I wait until he’s in his office with the door closed before I slide a fingernail under the seal and open the envelope.

  I unfold the simple sheet of white paper and read the printed words. I reread it, before I slip the paper back into the envelope and drop it in the bottom drawer of my desk.

  Chapter 27

  Bella

  “Are you working hard to earn all that extra money Mr. Garent is throwing at you?” Max glances over to where Marti is standing next to a table occupied by six people. All of them have heaping bowls of spaghetti and meatballs in front of them. “Your grandma is beautiful. You see it, right?”

  She’s breathtaking.

  Her face is heart-shaped with blue eyes that mirror my own. Each fine line on her face is a testament to a life lived with tender love and caring concern.

  I sigh. “I hope when I’m her age I look that good.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Max quips with a wink. “You’re looking good today though. That dress is cute.”

  “Stripes suit me.” I laugh. “We’re twins.”

  He tugs on the front of the blue and white striped button-down he’s wearing. “This is one of my favorite shirts because my favorite girl bought it for me.”

  It wasn’t me, so I stick out my tongue.

  “My mom, Bella.” He laughs. “She still likes buying me clothes. What am I supposed to do about that?”

  “Enjoy it.” I smile. “Your mom knows what you like. If my mom bought me clothes, I’d look like a grandma.”

  “And that would be a bad thing?” Marti asks as she nears our table. “You’re talking about me again, Dolly, aren’t you?”

  “Dolly always talks about you,” Max says with a straight face. “I was just asking her about her work.”

  My grandma skims her palm over my cheek. “Work is work. You leave it at the office, and then you live life. You’re living life, aren’t you?”

  I glance up at her with a smile. “Every day.”

  A tear wells in the corner of her eye. “You’re my treasure. You know that sweetheart, don’t you?”

  “I know. I always know,” I whisper.

  She shakes off the moment with a brush of her hand over her forehead. “Your dad was here today. He fixed the loose tile on the floor in the kitchen.”

  My dad loves helping his mom whenever he gets the chance. He’ll help anyone who needs it.

  “You should meet him here for lunch one day,” she suggests with a pop of her eyebrows. “I’ll make linguine wi
th clam sauce. You can invite the people you work with.”

  “And me,” Max adds. “I’m all for having lunch with Bella’s new boss.”

  “The new boss too,” Marti says as she turns to walk toward the door of the restaurant to greet a group of people who just arrived. “You tell me when. I’ll cook and tidy the place.”

  Never.

  Barrett doesn’t strike me as the type of man who wants to sit down for a meal with someone else’s family. I’ve never heard him mention his own family other than his dad.

  “I’m ready to go if you are,” Max announces with a push back of his chair. “I’m going to hide some money under the napkin to cover our meals.”

  “Marti will never talk to you again.” I laugh. “Bring her some peonies tomorrow. She’ll love you forever if you do that.”

  “Done.” He reaches a hand to help me up from my chair. “I do want to meet the new boss. If we’re not going to do lunch with him here, at least invite me to the office when he’s around.”

  “You don’t want to meet him.” I laugh.

  “Why not?” He inches my hair back over my shoulder. “Duke and I got along. Ivan loves me.”

  “He’s nothing like either of them.” I roll my eyes. “He’s heartless. He fired Daphne this morning.”

  Max and Daphne took a few spins on the dance floor at the holiday party. He had a blast listening to her talk about her kids and grandkids.

  Skepticism clouds his expression. “You’re joking.”

  “I’m dead serious.” I shrug. “He fired her on the spot. She’s officially a former employee of Garent Industries.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to meet this guy.” He offers his arm to me. “I’ll take you home now.”

  Passing my grandma on our way out, I tap her on the shoulder so I can hug her. “I’ll see you soon.”