Need (Bad Boys with Billions Book 3)

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Need (Bad Boys with Billions Book 3) Page 18

by Laura Marie Altom


  Her sweet story unraveled me like a frayed satin ribbon. Tears started with no sign of stopping.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?” She was at it again with another hug.

  “E-everything,” I wailed in as professional a tone as I could manage.

  She guided me to the nearest empty conference room and shut and locked the door. We shared the sofa at the end of the massive space.

  “I’m sorry.” I blew my nose on the tissues she’d snatched from a junior exec’s desk. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m worried about Nathan, and whether he accidentally proposed, or—”

  “Wait—back up the truck. You’re engaged? Carol, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you!” Her hug was filled with sincerity, and I loved her for it. “Why didn’t either of you tell me? Have you set a date?”

  “Nooo . . .” I cried into the tissues. “And Nathan’s lost his mind. As long as we’ve known each other, he’s never been like this. A couple of weeks ago, I lit a few candles, and you would have thought I’d set the comforter on fire. He won’t kiss me—barely even touches me. When I ask why, he says he doesn’t want to talk about it. I’m afraid he thinks he made a mistake by asking me to marry him, but lacks the courage to call it off.” There. Now that I’d finally voiced my darkest fears, hearing them out loud gave me unexpected strength. I’d had my heart broken before and survived, right?

  My throat tightened with the realization that my assumption was a hundred, million, billion times wrong. Nathan had come to mean everything to me, and I wasn’t even sure why. Maybe because on some basic level we were both wounded? Maybe because no man had ever made me feel so deeply desired? He’d raised me to an impossibly high peak, but now that I’d fallen, I couldn’t find my way back up. He was my way, but the Nathan I’d once known seemed gone. Where did I begin to find him? Even if I launched the search, had he ever really been mine to find?

  “Shhh . . . Everything’s going to be all right. My mom always used to say life never looks darker than before a storm.” Ella patted my back, murmuring comforting words I didn’t cognitively take in, but intrinsically understood. “For whatever reason, you and Nathan must have hit a stormy patch, but I promise,” she smoothed flyaway strands of my hair behind my ears, “once you two get back on track, you’ll be on fire.” I nodded.

  “Tell you what—how about on Thanksgiving, we make a super special day of it by having the occasion double as an engagement announcement party. Your mom will be there, and you still have Nathan’s big surprise to pull off. Wait and see—it’ll be spectacular. A day none of us will ever forget.”

  I might have nodded, but on the inside, prayed we’d all remember the occasion for happy reasons.

  Nathan

  I hated myself.

  It was Thanksgiving morning, and I should have been doing just that—giving thanks.

  I had a gorgeous woman beside me, a meal with friends to look forward to, and my health was improving daily. But what was the only thing my mind seemed capable of dwelling upon? Uma’s one, last favor. My every instinct screamed she was up to no good, but what the hell could I do about it without landing myself—or, God forbid, Carol—in even deeper hot water?

  More than anything, I wanted to reach for her, drawing her near, unbuttoning her unwittingly sexy flannel PJ top to claim the lush curves she’d been hiding. I felt stronger every day—hell, resuming great sex should have been first on my priority list. But every time I looked at her, all I felt was my own flood of shame and fear and total panic for what was yet to come.

  I didn’t want to touch her for fear we were being filmed. I hoped busting Carol’s old phone at least had her in the clear, but Uma had sent me a new one within hours of me breaking my old one. Of course, she had it wired for video and sound, but I kept it stashed beneath my pillow.

  In the time after Carol left for work and Theresa showed up to give me care I didn’t need, I’d scoured the place from the crown molding to the fucking baseboards looking for a hidden camera, but had no luck. Since Carol’s sexting incident, the last thing I wanted was for Carol and me to give my former boss and her goon squad a peep show.

  It was no secret that every day I kept up the hands-off policy with Carol, I hurt her a little more. Just like it was also no secret that the more uptight I grew, the more she interpreted my own personal hell to be connected with something she may have done. I wanted to come clean with her—explain what a fucking mess I’d made of both of our lives—but if I did, not only was there Uma to contend with, but the very real possibility that once Carol saw me for the idiot fraud I was, she’d no longer want anything to do with me.

  Before she woke, I took a long, cold shower. I needed to punish myself for being such a jackass in ever having taken Uma up on her offer. I should have seen her for what she was—a two-bit carnie in designer clothes. She’d sold me a shiny fake Rolex and it hadn’t even cost twenty bucks—just the bargain-basement price of my soul.

  For the first time since my mother’s passing, I was glad she wasn’t around to see what a mess

  I’d made. Never had I been more glad that my dad and two sisters, Rachel and Paula, and their husbands and kids were safe back in Arkansas. I didn’t fool myself into believing Uma’s tentacles didn’t reach far enough not to know my family existed, but at least they were far enough away to not be on her immediate radar.

  Since we were eating our holiday meal at Ella and Liam’s, and we needed to pick up Carol’s mom on the way and be at the mansion-that-looked-more-like-a-hotel by eleven, I woke up my future bride with a gentle shake instead of a nice, deep kiss and morning wood.

  “Hey . . .” Her smile was all sleep-sexy and her voice morning hoarse. Never had I wanted more just to hold her. “You look nice. What time is it?”

  “Nine. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I might as well get ready.”

  She yawned. “Wish you’d woken me. We could have gotten in a pre-turkey workout.” Her naughty wink made it no big secret as to what kind of exercise she craved.

  But because I couldn’t allow her to be on display, I said, “If you want to head down to the gym for a little while, I’ll be happy to join you.”

  Her smile faded. She tossed back the covers as if they’d been made of writhing snakes.

  Without a word or glance in my direction, she stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. One of these days, this nightmare with Uma will be behind me—us. With any luck, you’ll never even need to know.

  We drove to Carol’s mother’s in silence.

  We stood in her living room, partially successful at pretending we were excited about the day when obviously, neither of us was. Julie insisted on packing Tinker Bell in a purse-like carrier; then she needed food, toys and a blanket. She’d also made a cranberry Jell-O salad that I hoped would be well received on a billionaire’s holiday table.

  At the car, Carol held it while helping her mom and the dog into the backseat.

  “How lucky are we to have all this sun on a traditionally gloomy day?” Julie leaned between the front seats. “I’ve seen pictures of Liam and Ella’s house in People magazine. I keep pinching myself to think I’ll actually be spending the whole day there. What do you suppose they’ll serve? Plain old turkey? Or maybe some lavish lobster and turkey blend? Do people that rich even cook for themselves or set their own table? I probably should’ve asked before bringing Tinker Bell, but she has horrible separation anxiety, and is always a good girl, so—”

  “Mom, please!” Carol’s snap embarrassed even me, and wrote an encyclopedia on the level of stress she was operating under. Stress that was entirely my doing. Today should have been extra special—our first holiday as an engaged couple. But so far as I knew, no one but the two of us was even privy to the news.

  Julie sat back and fastened her seatbelt. She didn’t say another word.

  Carol tapped her fingers against the cranberries’ crystal bowl.

  Thirty minutes later, w
e arrived at the fairy-tale mansion to find the street lined with cars. How many people had Ella invited? I’d thought this was a private, family affair. My nerves were beyond shot, and I lacked the desire for small talk. All I could think about was Uma, and when she’d next strike. Who she’d next hurt.

  I said, “I’ll drop you two at the front, then park.” I welcomed the chance to be alone.

  “Use the valet service,” Carol said. “That’s what it’s there for.”

  “I’d rather walk.”

  “If this is another one of your stupid pride things, I—”

  “It’s not. Just give me a sec, okay?” I stopped short and the cranberries sloshed past their tinfoil gate. Carol’s once elegant light brown dress now sported a huge red spot.

  “Great. Just, great.” The look she cast held enough venom to land me back in the ER.

  Tinker Bell whined.

  “Let me help.” I grabbed for the bowl, but only made a bigger mess.

  “Leave it alone! Leave me alone! I tried to make this day extra special for you, but you’re ruining everything. What’s wrong with you?”

  Wish I could tell you.

  I got out and helped Julie exit the backseat. She in turn opened Carol’s door, taking the bowl, and then sopping the mess with tissues.

  Rrff, rrff, rrff, complained Tinker Bell, who was ready to escape her carrier.

  Fuck. I clamped my hand to my aching forehead.

  “You’re here!” Ella scurried down the shallow front steps in one of her hippie-dippy dresses that made her look like a dream floating into my nightmare. “Oh no,” she said alongside Carol. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s sneak you through the side door, and then you can make your grand entrance down the stairs.”

  “Thank you,” Carol said. Her quivering lower lip told me she was dangerously near tears.

  I was lower than shit. The dirt beneath shit. The worms beneath the dirt.

  Already needing alone time, I climbed back behind the wheel.

  Julie introduced herself, and the women carried on in that way women do.

  Mom and my sisters used to do the same.

  They would have whole conversations using only half the words. As a kid, I sat at the end of the kitchen bar just watching, fascinated by their dance, as if they were all dolls behind a storefront window, putting on a show that I’d never really quite understood.

  “Bobby,” Ella said to the valet, “why don’t you take Nathan’s car.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Get out.” Ella tugged on my elbow. In my ear, she whispered, “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Carol, but turn that frown upside down. She’s worked really hard to make you happy, so don’t you dare screw it up. Give me twenty minutes, then meet us in the backyard.”

  She whisked Carol and Julie through a door I didn’t even know existed, leaving me to fend for myself.

  Twenty minutes.

  Might as well have been a year.

  When Bobby made a move for my keys—correction, Carol’s keys—I told him I could handle it, then started the engine. I should have parked, but instead, I kept driving until I got to Interstate 280 and the gas light came on. I filled the tank on autopilot, not sure how I managed to grasp the nozzle when my hands were numb.

  Never had I been more afraid.

  I had no good options.

  Any way this thing with Uma played out, I was screwed. Come clean with Carol about everything—she leaves me, and I lose it all. Lock my secrets inside and they fester until Uma makes her move. I know she’s out to get me, I just don’t know how. Once she’s played out her plan, I lose it all.

  Lose/lose/lose.

  Game over.

  I made it back to Ella and Liam’s and parked on the street a ways down from their house. Carol sat on the front porch, and at her first sight of me, she dashed down the steps. “Where have you been?”

  “I noticed you were about out of gas, so I took care of it.” The spot had been washed from her dress, and all that remained of the former mess was a faint damp circle. I was glad she’d got it sorted. I knew Carol took great pride in her appearance. I didn’t even know what I took pride in anymore. My whole life had become a worry-filled blur. All I wanted was to take care of my woman, but how could I do that when I couldn’t even handle myself?

  I made a move to go inside, but she pulled me to the far end of the porch. “I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but can we please clear the air?”

  “Why?” I asked. “I’m good.”

  “No, Nathan, you’re not. You haven’t been since before our trip. I’m not sure if you’re still in pain and hiding it, or you’re upset about not yet finding a job. I just want you to know that whatever it is, you can talk to me. If I’m going to be your wife, I’m your safe place. No matter what’s going on, I’m here, okay?”

  I absorbed her kindness as if I was a sponge cake and she was a fancy cherry sauce. Her goodness soaked through me and warmed me and made me for only that moment believe everything might work out. Desperate to hold on to her, I clutched her, probably too tight. I swallowed the rock wall teetering at the back of my throat.

  When I finally let her go, I had to turn away to dry my eyes.

  “You’re crying . . .” She took a tissue from her purse. “Please, tell me what’s going on.”

  “Nothing,” I assured her. “I’m just—well, you know, grateful that we’re together on this day.”

  We locked gazes and I almost spilled it all. Almost. Then I fought through a twinge in my still-healing ribs and felt damn near retching when I thought about who’d ultimately be at fault should Carol or her daughter or, now, even her mom get hurt.

  “Come on.” She kissed me, then linked her arm with mine. “There’s something inside I’m excited for you to see.”

  “You know I’m not big on decorations,” I said.

  “Good. Because my surprise has nothing to do with new paint, furniture or trim.”

  A butler sort greeted us at the door with champagne. I downed my glass like a shot, wishing it had been Jack Daniel’s.

  We strolled through room after empty room until reaching the patio, where a pianist played Scarlatti on the grand piano that had been moved outside. Ah, the whims of a billionaire. Presumably due to the incredible weather, the dining room table had also been assembled poolside. The table settings were predictably over-the-top, with an extravaganza of pumpkin- and squash-filled cornucopias and a riot of mums and dried leaves and twigs. Hand-lettered name cards had been affixed to gold-dusted pears, and there were matching sets of china, silver and crystal for thirty-two.

  Ella looked more pregnant than I remembered, and Liam never left her side.

  I fought a jealous pang—not for her, but their happiness. Would Carol and I ever reach the point where we could enjoy a holiday? Was Uma or one of her thugs watching now? Lurking in the shadows to unleash the latest in her attempts to remind me she alone pulled my strings?

  From somewhere in the yard beyond my view, kids laughed. Had there ever been a more perfect sound? Did it remind Carol of the daughter she’d lost?

  It reminded me how I shouldn’t be around families when I had a target on my head.

  “You’re here!” Ella clasped my hand, steering me toward the small playground near the pool. I steeled myself to do battle with Liam, but he was surprisingly chill.

  “I didn’t think this day would ever come.” Carol took my other hand while her mother and Owen and Natalie and Yvonne and Peter and a handful of Liam’s work associates I’d met on previous social occasions watched on. I had the feeling they all knew something I didn’t, which made me nauseous. God knew I didn’t need additional surprises.

  We rounded a playhouse that had been modeled after the main house, and I soon enough discovered what Carol had done. All at once I was elated, and then, like a popped balloon, reality jumped up to bite my sorry ass.

  My dad was first to run and greet me, followed by my two sisters and thei
r husbands and children—even three-year-old Turtle toddled my way.

  “How the hell are ya?” my father asked with a back-slapping bear hug that damn near had me passing out from pain. “That’s some woman you’ve got—springing for all of us to surprise you like this. She’s even put us up in a swanky hotel. Rented a couple cars. The whole works. If you ask me, she’s a keeper.” He winked.

  “She sure is.” I watched on while she chatted with Paula and her husband, Ted. Paula held her new baby, whom I had yet to meet. I should have been elated to see my family, yet I felt detached—as if they belonged in a different world. Or maybe I was the one who no longer belonged? Uma had transformed me to the point that I no longer fit in with the people I’d spent my whole life with, but I damn sure didn’t fully mesh with the billionaire crowd, either. She’d molded me into an amalgam of a man even I no longer recognized. “Planning on making an honest woman of her anytime soon?”

  “Yeah, Dad. Real soon.”

  I excused myself, turned off my cell, and walked straight to the car.

  I lost count of the number of red lights I ran on the way to Uma’s, just the way I blocked out the wrath I’d have to face from not only Carol and Ella, but my whole family. I could deal with all of them later.

  But in order for there to be a later, I had to first get shit settled with Uma.

  Instead of going in guns blazing, I parked two blocks from her mansion and hopped fences to enter through her kitchen door. With the holiday, the room was occupied by three chefs and a half-dozen servers, who all stared my way when I crept in through the back.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I said with a casual smile, opting to pose as holiday staff. “Are extra uniforms still in the basement?”

 

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