Plain and the Billionaire's Seduction (Plain Jane Series Book 3)

by Tmonique Stephens

  The look on Erica’s face…priceless. Calista gave Erica a nudge and she was on the other side of the door.

  Calista smiled, wide and bright. “I’ll see you at the next board meeting. I’ll bring the donuts.”

  Chapter Five

  L ayton met Calista at the largest Manhattan branch. The meeting was scheduled for 9:00 a.m., but the moment she woke her stomach went sideways. The Chinese she had last night came back with a vengeance. By the time she got herself together, she was already late.

  “I apologize,” she said to Layton who waited with the branch officer. “It’s been a rough morning.”

  “No need for explanation. Early hours no longer suit me either. I enjoyed catching up with Thomas here.” Layton laughed. He introduced her to Thomas Corbin, the bank manager, who she showed her ID. Together the three took the elevator to the safety deposit vault on the lower level. She’d never been inside a vault and found the many TV movies hadn’t fabricated their descriptions. Gleaming locked metal boxes of all sizes lined the walls with a table in the center and a camera overhead. Nowhere to hide in here.

  “Box 235,” Corbin said.

  It took a moment for her to realize he’d posed the question to her and not Layton. “Yes,” she replied, embarrassed by her distraction and nerves. Calista took the key out of her purse. It was a synchronized two-step process with the bank manager. Insert keys. Turn counterclockwise. The metal door clicked and sprung partially open.

  It wasn’t a large box, ten by twelve would be her guess as the manager freed the box from the wall.

  “There’s a private room available for viewing the contents.” The manager offered.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Here’s suitable.” He placed the box on the table and the two men excused themselves, giving her some privacy. Calista slid open the top and peered inside. A leather bound notebook, a picture of her parents, and another box, square and black velvet in design. She looked at the picture. They were younger, happier judging by their wide smiles. Sitting on an Adirondack chair on a deck on a lake bank, her mother comfortable on Harvey’s lap.

  God, her mother was beautiful. The type of beautiful that caught your breath and made you do a double take. How could he have not loved her enough to choose her? How could she have not been enough?

  Harvey probably included the picture as a final parting gift, a misguided peace offering. He probably wanted to plant one good memory of her parents in her mind, even if the memory wasn’t her own. She stroked her thumb over the surface of the picture, circa 1990 or earlier.

  “Once upon a time, you two were in love and happy.” And here was the proof. Maybe that’s why he placed it in the box. Maybe she wasn’t a complete mistake because they had loved each other.

  You’re not a mistake, Calico. My baby could never be a mistake.

  Her mother’s voice whispering her nickname with pride and praise filled Calista’s head. Before she realized it, a tear tracked down her cheek. Surprised, she dashed it away.

  Jesus Christ, what was wrong with her? Beneath the picture was a birth certificate with the name Calista Bryn. What? The birthdate, place of birth. Mother and Father. It was her birth certificate, but not the one she had at home. Plus, it was newer. When was this issued? Five years ago, she realized when she found the date at the bottom of the document. Along with the birth certificate was another document from a DNA testing lab. It was the results. Certified by a notary.

  Wow. Harvey had left little to chance. She placed the picture facedown, along with the documents, and picked up the small notebook.

  Expecting a journal she had every intention of burning, she was surprised at the list of account numbers and corresponding passwords, all from banks in that tax haven Caribbean paradise.

  Holy shit…

  Seconds gathered as she wrapped her mind around the implications. The accounts didn’t have amounts, but it was a safe bet more than bus fare had been stashed offshore. Hands shaking, she stuffed the notebook and the picture into her purse. The last item was the square, black box. She expected a trinket, not the black diamond teardrop earrings. Her breath caught at the beauty and it took more than a minute for her brain to come back online. She snapped the box closed and stuffed it into her purse along with the birth certificate and DNA report.

  Layton waited for her, the branch manager having vanished. “Are you alright, dear? You seem a little shaky.” He cupped her elbow, his strength a comfort.

  Grateful for his presence, she pasted a smile on her face. “I’m fine.” Lies. She needed a stiff drink even though it was 10:00 a.m. “I just need some fresh air.”

  “Of course. Completely understandable. Let’s get you out of here.” He guided her to the elevator for the one flight up to the ground level.

  “Thank you for coming with me, Layton.” She knew he didn’t have to. His loyalty to Harvey brought him to the bank. Not her.

  “You are quite welcome, dear.” He patted her forearm and she couldn’t help the fatherly affection she felt, which ended when the elevator opened.

  His voice, the deep timbre she so loved, washed over her before she lay eyes on him. Nipples tightening, core clenching, stomach fluttering in queasy awareness, the instant reactions wrecked her before she reeled them back in. And that preceded her actually seeing him.

  Julius.

  He stood in the middle of a small hallway in front of the elevator and the branch manager’s office, forcing staff and clients alike to walk around him while he spoke to another man. He was the boulder in the middle of the stream, a force of nature changing the currents to suit his needs.

  Bastard.

  A damned fine-looking bastard in a bespoke navy suit and silver tie. A fresh haircut tamed his blond hair and a fresh shave to his sharp jawline. The suit lovingly covered a muscular body the expensive material failed to hide. In fact, it highlighted the broadness of his shoulders, the expanse of his chest, the narrowness of his waist, and a pair of muscular thighs. Three weeks since she’d last seen him and damn if he hadn’t gotten bigger. He radiated strength, confidence, and raw sexual appeal. The effect was not lost on the number of female staff ogling the man.

  Julius Morgan was a walking, talking, breathing orgasm who’d spotted her. She took care with her appearance today, dressing in a jersey knit lavender blouse with capped sleeves that hugged her breasts, yet flowed, and a pair of white wide leg sailor pants. She’d even polished her toes and dug a pair of strappy sandals out of the back of her closet.

  Only after his gaze had traveled the length of her body and returned to capture her eyes did he acknowledge her presence. “Ms. Coleman. Fancy meeting you here.”

  Fancy? What bullshit. Out of all the banks in New York City, he stumbled into this one where she happened to be at the precise time she happened to be here. Calista glared at Layton who hadn’t a clue as he smiled at her, then switched his jovial grin to Julius.

  “Julius. How are you?”

  Julius made a smooth transition from ogling her to perfect gentleman in an instant. “Good, and you, Layton? I thought you retired.”

  “A few strings to snip then I’m permanently on the golf course.” Layton chuckled and glanced between the two of them. “Do you two know each other?”

  “We’ve met.” Calista supplied, cutting Julius off.

  “More than that. Calista was my bodyguard until quite recently.”

  Murmurs of “Oh?” and “Really?” came from the branch manager and another man standing next to Julius, the two she’d just noticed.

  “Thomas Corbin, branch manager, Daniel Luce, president of the bank, meet Calista Coleman, co-heiress to the Bryn Conglomerate.”

  She could see the confusion on their faces and was not about to play this game. “I need to speak to you. Alone.” She didn’t wait for his agreement, though she caught his goodbyes as she walked out of the bank and into the humid September morning. Vaguely, she was aware of Sunny and Edwards in her peripheral, and approved of how Edwards blended
into the scenery as an ordinary man, while Sunny stood out, obvious in his bodyguard role.

  “Are you stalking me, again?”

  A trace of a frown appeared. “No.”

  “You’re gonna tell me this is a coincidence? One bank out of one thousand in New York and we end up at the same one?” She laid the sarcasm on thick.

  “Bryn Conglomerate accounts are held at this bank. I was there to meet with the president to talk shop.” His frown deepened into a scowl.

  Oh. “Who told you about the inheritance? Erica? It had to be her. I found out about it less than twenty-four hours ago. So, who?”

  “David Stine, CFO of Bryn Co. He was present for the viewing of the recording. He called with the information.”

  Well that bled some of her hostility away.

  “Why were you at the bank?” he asked.

  She clutched her purse tighter, though she was in no danger of him or anyone else snatching it away with Sunny and Edwards near. Plus, she could handle her own shit even in a pair of heels. “My father left me a picture of my mother…and him. Happier times,” she said, and he kept his comment to himself, which was wise. “I should go.”

  “Have lunch with me.” He glanced at his watch. “Too early. Brunch.” He pointed to a restaurant at the end of the block. “I have a taste for eggs Benedict.”

  “No.” Her stomach grumbled loudly in complete disagreement. He came close enough for his presence to fill her vision and his scent to fill her lungs. A hint of cologne mixed with his unique male musk. Simply delicious.

  “One meal, Calista. One.”

  It shouldn’t be appealing, his plea shouldn’t make her want to capitulate. She shouldn’t want to be in his presence. Shouldn’t crave it with a burning need. But… She was fucking starved.

  She led the way with an entourage following. Even opened the door on her own.

  The hostess, a pretty brunette, took one glance at her and said, “One?”

  “Four.” Calista tipped her head to the men lined up behind her.

  The hostess’ mouth dropped open in a silent “oh” and Calista understood. The men behind her weren’t slouches. They were heavy on testosterone and muscles, and attractive. None more so than Julius. She had no right to be possessive or jealous, yet she was. If she had a stamp marked property of, she wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

  Screeeeeech! Brick wall face plant.

  Julius Morgan wasn’t hers. She’d cut him loose. Had to after he kissed Erica, as any self-respecting woman would.

  Julius stepped closer, shadowing over her, taking charge. “Make that two separate tables. One for us and one for them.” So, no catching up with the guys. Luckily the restaurant had plenty of open tables.

  They trailed behind the hostess who seated them at a booth with Sunny and Edwards at a table a few feet away. The server brought glasses of water and took their orders of eggs Benedict and toast for Julius, while Calista ignored the Western omelet in favor of chicken and waffles.

  A carafe of coffee and two mugs were placed between them. Julius poured them each a cup, sipped his black as she doctored hers with creamer and Splenda. The first sip was heaven. She sighed as the warmth spread from her chest to her stomach.

  “What’s your game plan?”

  Huh? Couldn’t he give her another second to enjoy the bliss? “What do you mean?”

  “You share part ownership of Bryn Conglomerate. Your intentions need to be known so the company can function. Are you going to accept the responsibility that comes with owning fifty-one percent of the company, or will you sell your percentage, hopefully to Erica or myself?”

  “That’s what you brought me here to ask?” she blurted and winced at the neediness in her voice.

  His eyes narrowed even as a predatory grin graced his handsome face. “You want this to get personal?” His gaze heated and dipped to her body. “Fine.” Elbows on the table, he leaned in, too close. Too damned close. “My eyes were starved to see you. I find I’m still not satisfied.”

  His gaze palpable, stroked her breasts, tweaked her nipples. It took effort not to squirm to alleviate the desire knotting her insides. She shouldn’t feel this way. Love ’em and leave ’em. She’d never had a problem leaving a relationship. Now, she drank him in, much like she consumed the coffee waiting for the hit of caffeine to her bloodstream.

  “I’d say you look beautiful today, but you are beautiful every day. How are you, Calista? No bullshit. Tell me the truth.”

  “I’m…” Fine stuck in her throat. “Dealing.” With the loss of her father, the decline of her mother, and missing him, dealing was the best she could do. She held onto the cup like a lifeline.

  He reached across the table for her hand. He gave it a squeeze followed by his thumb caressing her knuckles. No words polluted the space between them. They didn’t need any.

  “I’ve missed you,” he murmured.

  “I… I—” The food arrived in the nick of time to save her from blurting out the truth. She missed him too. Her stomach rumbled at the delicious aroma of golden fried chicken and waffles. Silently, she blessed the server for his impeccable timing. He’d receive a generous tip.

  She stuffed her mouth full with chicken. Then poured syrup over the waffles and dug in. The food hit her stomach, easing the gnawing hunger. You’d think she hadn’t eaten in a year. “How’s Scotts?” she asked, coming up for air.

  “Recovering nicely.” Julius answered. “He has a permanent job with me if he’s interested.”

  “He’s a good man.” And took a bullet in her defense.

  “I know he’s a good man. They’re all good men.”

  She glanced at Edwards and Sunny, the latter had a mountain of food he plowed through with gusto. Must be his cheat day.

  “Do you miss it?” he asked.

  She knew what he meant and the answer came easy. “Yes.”

  “If you could go back, not have the inheritance—”

  “Being a bodyguard is…was the only thing I knew.” Suddenly, she had a brilliant idea. Maybe she could open her own school for bodyguard training. Stupid idea.

  “Back to my first question. What’s your game plan?”

  This was not what she’d expected when she accepted his invitation. Memories of her high school guidance counselor demanding to know her plans after graduation flashed in her mind. “My game plan is to eat my brunch. Then I have a hair appointment and a mani-pedi afterward.”

  “And that’s all you want? You own controlling shares in a billion-dollar company, and all you want is brunch?”

  She didn’t appreciate his condescending tone. What right did he have to lecture her about anything? “I’m a simple woman. Don’t need much. Yeah. That’s all I want.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  She glowered at him. “I don’t care what you believe.”

  “Aw. That hurt my feelings.” He studied her instead of eating. “Sell me your stake if that’s true. Let me buy you out.”

  She was tempted, but no. Selling was exactly what Erica wanted. So, Calista wasn’t selling, not to her, and not to Julius. They could both fuck off. Calista topped off her coffee and gulped half of it down.

  “Owning that much of the company comes with responsibility.”

  “Please. You show up at the stockholders meeting and collect your dividends. How hard can it be?”

  “You’re on the board, Calista. You must take a daily interest in the company.”

  Daily interest? Did that mean punching a clock? Not that she minded. It would be something to do.

  A server walked by with something that smelled hot and greasy and awesome. Until the scent hit the back of her throat and she gagged. Her stomach twisted in a violent roll and suddenly everything she ate was on the way back up. She grabbed a napkin to cover her mouth and lurched to her feet, startling Julius and the men at the other table. Edwards’ and Sunny’s hands went to their weapons, their attention outward, while Julius reached for her.

  “W
hat?”

  All she could do was shake her head and dart toward the restroom sign. She made it into the stall in time to bend over and hurl. She didn’t stop until her throat was raw and her stomach was finally empty.

  Jesus, that was horrible. The chicken and waffles still tasted like syrupy chicken and doughy bread. Yuck! Knees weak, she leaned against the stall, aware of all the germs and not giving a shit. Once steady, she flushed and watched the vomit swirl. Sweat clung to her now clammy skin. She was as messy as she was exhausted. A shower and a toothbrush, that’s what she needed.

  She opened the stall to find Julius inside the damned bathroom with her, with her purse. Oh my God! Horrified, she looked around him, grateful the bathroom was empty. “Whatthefuck! Get out!” she shouted.

  He grabbed her by the shoulders, stopping her from walking around him. “Are you okay?” The concern in his eyes prevented her from shoving him away. That and the comfort of his touch, especially when he cupped her cheek and smoothed the hair clinging to her face.

  “Yeah.”

  She grabbed his wrist, intent to stop him, instead, she held on as his strong fingers coasted over her forehead, down her cheek to her jawline. It was too much. She slapped his hand away and went to the sink. A few splashes of cold water removed the clamminess and a mouthful rinsed the chickeny sweetness out of her mouth.

  “Will you leave before some poor woman enters and calls the police?” she said, and he ignored her. Fine. I tried. He ends up on TMZ, not my problem. She patted herself dry with a paper towel under the watchful eyes of Julius standing behind her.

  “Feeling better?”

  She nodded and snatched her purse from his hand. He looked ridiculous holding it.

  “Was it the food?”

  She didn’t want to blame it on the food when, damn, it was delicious. Plus, it wasn’t the first time she’d thrown up. “I have a bug. Caught it from I don’t know where. Summer colds are the worst.” She tossed the paper towel in the trash. Knees a bit wobbly, she headed for the exit.