by HELEN HARDT
Braden smiled. That was what he was after. Half a mill. He could get his new product off the ground with that.
“Half a million,” he said, “and Addie stops stalking me.”
“I’ve told her to stop, but I can’t control what she ultimately does.”
“Then I can’t guarantee I’ll never call the police on her again.”
Brock met Braden’s gaze, his own determined. “No wavering on that part of the deal. You cannot call the police on my daughter. Not ever. I’ll write it into the agreement if I have to. Otherwise, you’ll have my assurance that you won’t be prosecuted on any false allegations. And there will be a non-disclosure agreement.”
…
My eyes are dinner plates. “You agreed.”
Braden clears his throat. “I did.”
“And Addie…”
“Has been stalking me since.”
My heart thuds. “Your business…”
“Was seeded with Brock Ames’s money,” he says, his voice monotone. “And I signed a document stating I’d never talk about what went on between Addie and me.”
“So that’s why…”
“That’s why I couldn’t tell you, Skye. Why I shouldn’t be telling you now. Though it probably doesn’t matter. I can now buy and sell the Ames business. If I crack, what can they do to me? Sue me, but then it all comes out anyway.”
“Why wouldn’t you tell me, then? At first, I mean.”
“Because I’m a man of my word, Skye. A man is nothing without his word.”
And now he’s no longer a man of his word. He told me.
But not because I goaded him into it.
He told me because he loves me. Because he trusts me. And if we’re going to have a relationship, there can be no big secrets between us.
“I learned some valuable things from Brock Ames that day,” he continues. “First, never take the first offer, even if the other party says it’s the only offer.”
I nod.
“Second, I learned that a man is only as good as his word. Brock kept his word to me. Addie never made any false accusations, and she hasn’t spoken of any details of our time together—”
“She hasn’t? Then how does Apple know? Betsy?”
“She most likely told Betsy before the agreement. As for Apple, she’s family and was there, so she probably witnessed a lot of what went on.” Braden shoves his hands in his pockets. “Addie’s still a spoiled brat at heart. The stalking never stopped, Skye. In fact, it continues to this day.”
“So that’s how…” My mind churns.
“It’s no doubt how she knew about the nipple clamps. The anal plug. Our breakup. She’s had me watched since then. What she doesn’t know is that I’ve had her watched since I could afford to. If she steps out of line, I’ll know it, and I’ll stop it.”
“You don’t consider her knowing about an anal plug out of line?”
“My place is as secure as it gets. Yours isn’t. At least not yet. I didn’t feel it was right to have security installed in your home without telling you first.”
“Good call,” I say.
“Addie is virtually harmless. I ignore her, for the most part, but sometimes the devil on my shoulder gets the better of me. I can’t be too upset about that, though. It is, after all, how you and I met.”
I smile. “Your comment on her coffee post. Of course.”
“The woman hates coffee. She always has. Sometimes it’s something so small like that that sets me off.”
“I get it. Honestly.”
“I’m sure you do, after working for her.”
“She knows I love coffee, and do you know she never once offered to give me the drink? She always threw it out.”
“Not surprising,” Braden says. “Everything’s disposable to her.”
“Except for you.” I frown.
“Apparently. She never got over me. But it may be because of my money and status now.”
I think for a moment. Sure, Braden has money and status now, but he didn’t then. But he did have one thing.
Himself.
He was always Braden Black. Always a magnificent and amazing man.
“I don’t think so,” I tell him. “I think she’d still be after you no matter what. But we can’t live like this, Braden. I can’t live my life knowing she’s watching every move I make.”
“She might be watching you anyway,” he says. “After all, you’re in her territory now.”
“Meaning I have you?”
He chuckles. “No, Skye. I was never her territory. I’m talking about social media influencing.”
I scoff at myself. Of course, he’s right. “I’ll never be where she is.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. You have something she doesn’t.”
“You?” I giggle.
“You’re incorrigible. No. You have you. You have Skye Manning, and Skye Manning is a real person. A person everyone relates to. Your gift is you.”
Your gift is you.
With those words, I float on air.
I see myself in a new light.
Yes, I have Braden, and if Braden loves me, that must mean I’m something special.
But that’s not what truly makes me special.
I’m me. I’m #simplyskye.
And that’s something no one else has, not even Addison Ames.
Wouldn’t the world be wonderful if personal people saw themselves as gifts?
This, right here, is the greatest thing anyone has ever done for me.
“I’ll love you forever for saying that, Braden.” I wrap my arms around his neck.
“I’ll love you forever just because you’re you,” he says back.
Chapter Fifty-Two
“That’s how I know Addie isn’t over you. Because you’re you. You’re Braden. You’re not a construction worker. You’re not a billionaire. You’re just Braden Black, and you’re incredible.”
He smiles. Really smiles. Maybe now I’ll see that real smile more. But it lasts only a moment before he frowns.
“What’s the matter?”
“You know my secret now.”
“About you and Addie. Yeah. I’m sorry she got hurt.”
“So am I, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I always wanted to be rich on my own terms, but I’m not. You know I had help setting up my company.”
“You mean Brock Ames’s money?”
He nods.
I laugh. I seriously laugh almost uncontrollably.
“I don’t see what’s funny about that from where I’m standing.”
“Aren’t you the one who told me that opportunity is opportunity? That I should use all resources available to me as I build my career? My God, I spent weeks thinking I wasn’t good enough. That I was only wanted because I was Braden Black’s girlfriend. Even that the contacts I had were from Addie.”
His lips quirk up slightly.
“And besides, it wasn’t Brock Ames’s money. It was your money. You and he made a deal.”
“Which I just broke.”
“For me. For us. And you have my word that the story won’t leave this room. I swear on my mother’s life. On my father’s life. On my own life. On my love for you.”
His lips quirk up farther.
“Besides,” I go on, “you had an ironclad stalking case against Addison. You dropped it in exchange for half a million dollars and assurance that you wouldn’t be prosecuted for something you didn’t do. Brock Ames probably got off cheap. It would have cost him a lot more to fabricate a case against you and pay off everyone to see things his way.”
“All true,” Braden agrees.
“So it wasn’t Brock’s money. It was yours.”
He chuckles then, shaking his head. “This right here. This is why I love you
, Skye.”
“This is why you love me? Because I helped you see something you already knew?”
“Well, this and about a thousand other reasons.”
I melt into him and wrap my arms around his neck. “Better.” I brush my lips across his.
He still hasn’t told me about his mother, but we’ve had enough for one day. I won’t push.
“I need to get ready for my dinner with Eugenie,” I say.
He nods. “I’m sorry I can’t join you.”
“Are you sure? I really want you there.”
“I wish I could, but there’s something that needs my immediate attention.”
I sigh. “Okay, but I have to tell you something first.” I relay the story of the hashtags.
“Good for you. You shouldn’t sell simplyskye. It’s yours.”
“And susieglow?”
“I’m okay with that. You wouldn’t be using it for anything other than your work with Susanne anyway. Companies pay for creations all the time.”
A bag of bricks falls from my shoulders. Braden agrees with me. I did the right thing. I knew it at the time, but I feel great knowing he agrees and would have advised me the same.
Maybe I’m ready to truly make my own business decisions. I’ll love his input, of course, but I can make the final decisions myself.
For a minute, I’m wearing a tight Wonder Woman suit. I feel totally empowered.
And I like the feeling. I like it a lot.
Braden gives me a searing kiss. “I have to go. I’m sorry. The limo is downstairs and will take you to dinner when you’re ready.”
“I understand. And thanks.”
“For what?”
“For trusting me.”
He nods briefly and within a few seconds, he’s in the elevator heading down. Away from me. To do what? Something about Addie? Something about Tessa? He was going to look into the ketamine situation, where Addie just happened to be that night.
It can’t possibly all be related. Can it?
No time to think about that now. I dress for dinner in a pink camisole, black skinny pants, and a gray blazer. Businesslike yet sexy. I like the look.
I have a few minutes before I need to head down to the limo. A good time to check in on Tessa.
“Hey,” she says into my ear.
“Hi. Just checking in. How are you feeling?”
“Good as new, to be honest. No aftereffects from the drug. I swear, Skye. I will never do any kind of drug again.”
“Well, this one wasn’t exactly your fault.”
“I know that, but I did the ecstasy before. No man is worth this.”
“True story,” I say.
“Garrett and I are through, no matter what. Whether he gave me the ketamine or not. And I just talked to Betsy.”
“About what?”
“About her and Peter. I told her what happened, and she agrees that she wasn’t quite herself that first night.”
My heart drops to my stomach. “Did she sleep with Peter that night?”
“Yeah, and a couple times after.”
“Braden’s looking into it,” I say.
“I know. Tell him thanks again.”
“I will. He’s not here right now. I’m getting ready to leave for dinner with Eugenie.”
“Without Braden?”
“Yeah, something came up for him.”
“What was it?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Well,” she says, “I hope everything’s okay.”
“Yeah, me too. I’ve got to run. I’ll check in again tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” I end the call and head to the elevator.
Eugenie, here I come.
Chapter Fifty-Three
A bourbon and one glass of wine. All I had to drink at dinner with Eugenie. I read every word of the new documents she drew up—they were fair, concise, and not too full of legalese—and then signed on the dotted line.
The limo drops me off at Braden’s building and the driver walks me to the elevator. I slide the card through. “Thanks a lot for the ride.” I smile.
He tips his hat. “At your service, Ms. Manning. Good evening to you.”
The elevator doors open, and I step in. They close. I check my watch. Ten thirty. Is Braden home? I have no idea. He hasn’t texted or called.
I thumb through some comments on my latest post, replying and deleting as necessary, when I realize something.
The elevator isn’t moving. Odd. I don’t press a button for the floor because there isn’t one to press. This elevator goes straight to Braden’s penthouse. There is, however, one marked “door open.” I push it.
The doors open, and—
I jerk, nearly stumbling.
Peter Reardon stands in front of me with an older man.
“Hello, Skye,” Peter says, his tone edgy.
Is he nervous? Maybe. I don’t know him well enough to say.
“Peter. What are you doing here?”
More importantly, why isn’t the elevator working? I keep the latter to myself.
“We came to see your boyfriend,” the other man says.
“And you are?”
“My father,” Peter says. “Beau Reardon.”
I clear my throat. “He’s not home yet.”
“Oh, we know that,” Beau remarks.
“Then why are you here? If you know he’s not, I mean.”
“Just waiting. Like you are.”
“I prefer to wait upstairs.” I walk back into the elevator and slide my card. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Again, the doors close, but again, the elevator stays still. What the hell?
I push the open button once more.
Peter and Beau still stand in front of the elevator doors. Did they have something to do with this?
“Something wrong?” Beau asks.
His tone is telling—icy with a sardonic edge. He knows exactly what’s wrong with the elevator.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I demand. “What did you do to the elevator?”
“Funny thing, being an architect,” Beau says. “We have to understand building structure, how elevators work. All that kind of stuff. Things that don’t concern most people.”
“Braden has security cameras all around here,” I say. “Whatever you’re trying to do, you won’t get away with it.”
“We understand security, too,” Peter offers. “Once you know where the cameras are, they’re easily disabled.”
I look toward the door of the building. Is the limo still out there? I can make a run for it. These two are giving me the creeps.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“Just to talk.”
Icicles spear the back of my neck. Breathe, Skye. Breathe. Don’t show them you’re scared shitless.
“If that’s all you want, you have a phone. You’ve disabled Braden’s security and his elevator. What’s going on here?”
But knowledge edges its way into my frightened mind. I know full well why they’re here.
Braden was right.
Peter and Garrett gave Betsy and Tessa ketamine.
And they got it from Peter’s daddy.
“You’re not going to get away with this,” I say to them.
“Little lady, I’ve gotten away with a lot worse, as your boyfriend knows.”
“That’s why he wouldn’t give you the building contract,” I say, whipping my hand to my hips. “He knows you play dirty.”
“And he doesn’t?” Beau shakes his head.
“No, he doesn’t,” I say.
“Maybe you’d like to know who financed his way to the top,” Peter says.
Damn. They know. But how? There w
as an NDA. Except…Addie didn’t hold up her part of the bargain. If she continued stalking Braden—in fact, is stalking him still—she may well have divulged the information about the settlement.
“He financed his company himself.”
It’s not an untruth. It was Braden’s money, as I told him earlier. It was opportunity knocking. It was money for his cooperation and silence.
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” Beau says.
Fine. Let them think I don’t know. It only puts me in a stronger position. I won’t give away the farm.
“Really?” I say. “And I suppose you’re going to enlighten me?”
“We’d be happy to,” Beau says, “but there isn’t time.”
“Why not? Braden’s not here yet. Seems we have time after all.” I stride into the lobby, hoping I look less nervous than I feel. I take a seat on one of the leather wingbacks. “Care to join me, gentlemen?”
My heart is beating rapid-fire, and my mouth is dry. Still, I resist swallowing and licking my lips. I don’t want them to know how they’re affecting me.
I have no idea what I’m getting into. If they routinely drug women, they could be capable of anything. They could have guns.
My skin chills. I feel like a giant ice cube.
They each take a seat on the couch opposite me. Great. I’m right in their firing range.
I need to get a grip.
Braden, where are you?
Why didn’t I text him while I was in the elevator?
“Your boyfriend is up to no good,” Beau says.
“If you mean he’s going to stop you people from drugging women, then I’d say he’s up to a lot of good.”
Peter’s ears redden around the edge. Oh, he’s trying to look calm and collected like his father, but I got to him.
“Those are unfounded accusations,” Beau says.
“Interesting. Your friend Garrett drugged Tessa, and I’d be willing to bet you did the same thing to Betsy, Peter.”
“More unfounded accusations,” Beau says. “Your friend has a history of drug use.”
“She’s used drugs one time.”
Crap. I wish I hadn’t said that. I don’t need to give them information.
“The allegations against Garrett and my son are fabricated,” Beau says, his mouth a straight line.
The man is ice cold. Does anything rattle him?