ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE) (33 page)

BOOK: ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE)
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It
was so
strange not having Preston’s driver take us to our parents’ house. For the most
part, he took us everywhere, and I’d grown accustomed to sitting in the back
with my stepbrother and sipping sparkling water or sometimes champagne as Mr.
Fletcher whisked us to our destination. Somehow sitting in the front seat with
Preston felt more intimate to me, almost like we were a couple.

 

I looked over at him as the sunset
painted his handsome face with warm, Technicolor hues. I wondered if, had
circumstances not been what they were, I could have been with him. We probably
never would have even met, had it not been for my mom, but if we had…

 

My heart threatened to break as I
realized that I really could see myself with this man. We were like Romeo and
Juliet, if they’d been practically related instead of just from warring
households.

 

Yet our progression toward our
parents’ home felt like an oncoming war. It would be a battle, certainly. My
mother would see to that. One way or another, she would find fault. I almost
wished I could tell her Preston and I had slept together. The look on her face
might have been well worth it.

 

“I’m sorry,” Preston said beside me.
I looked over and saw his lips drawn into a grim line. “If I crossed a line
back there.”

 

I shook my head, resisting the urge to
place my hand on top of his. “We both did,” I told him. And if I was being
honest with myself, I wished we could again.

 

As we pulled up to the gate in front
of Preston’s father’s house, I stared up at the magnificent estate looming just
beyond. Preston’s grandfather had custom built it right after World War II as a
present to his wife. I couldn’t imagine gifting someone an entire mansion, but
life was different for people like the Harveys, even in those days.

 

I’d been here before, yet I still
felt distant, like this place wasn’t really meant for me. Being at Preston’s
side made me feel a little better, but knowing that I’d have to contend with my
mother soon kept the hairs on my nape raised, regardless.

 

“Are you ready?” he asked me as we
stood just outside the massive front doors. They reminded me a lot of the ones
outside his office-slash-second-home.

 

“As I’ll ever be,” I affirmed, taking
a deep breath before Preston reached up and knocked heavily on the door.

 

I heard the sound of heels clattering
across marble, and a moment later, my mother’s face appeared as she pulled one
of the doors wide to greet us.

 

“Well, Maddy, you’ve managed to get
here on time. You must be growing up.” I bristled as she turned her gaze on
Preston. “It was so kind of you to bring her. You must be exerting a positive
influence.”

 

He smiled tersely. “Good evening,
Vivian,” he said. It was obvious from his tone that he was trying to remind her
to show some goddamn manners.

 

But my mother didn’t take the hint.
Her diamond earrings sparkled in the fading light as she turned back to me. “It
was nice of Preston to take pity on you like this. I hope you’ve thanked him.”

 

“Oh, trust me,” I said, fixing a grin
on my face, “I most certainly have.” Preston nearly giggled at that. I thought
his eyes were going to bulge right out of their sockets.

 

“Well, come in,” she sighed, as
though burdened by my mere presence. She’d been doing a lot of that lately
since she and Preston’s father had announced they were getting hitched.
“Dinner’s almost ready. I really have no idea what takes this damn cook so long
just to prepare a meal. It’s not like we expect her to catch and kill the
chickens herself, or anything…”

 

She walked toward the formal dining
room while we let ourselves in. As he closed the door behind us, Preston raised
an eyebrow at me and said, “I thought you were ashamed of what we’d done?”

 

I shrugged. “If anything will get me
through this evening, Preston, it will be the knowledge that if my mother ever
found out about us, she’d have a stroke right there in her French onion soup.”

 

This time, both of my stepbrother’s
eyebrows raised. “Does that mean there
is
an ‘us?’_”

 

“Let’s just get dinner over and done
with,” I suggested, trying desperately to weasel out of having to answer. “If
we survive, then we can have that talk.”

 

“Your wish is my command,” Preston
replied, escorting me to the dining room where our parents were waiting. I bet
he said that to every single girl he wanted to fuck…

 

The table was set with the kind of
care and exactness that almost seemed compulsive. Preston was nice enough to
pull out a chair for me, but as I sat down, I couldn’t even figure out where to
put my hands. I didn’t want to ruin the delicate flower that had been somehow
magically crafted from an ordinary cloth napkin, and God help me if I moved one
of the pieces of silverware. They were placed at an exact distance from the
edge of the table, each one gleaming as if it had never been used…

 

And knowing where I was, it probably
hadn’t.

 

Despite my discomfort, I did my best
to settle in as I pondered the need for two different forks. Food appeared in
front of me almost as if by magic, flown to my table by a man in the cleanest
pair of white gloves I’d ever seen in my life. The plate was a work of art. It
would be a shame to tear it apart, but I was willing to face the peril. My
momentary bliss was only broken as my mother spoke up.

 

“So, Preston, how is Madison working
out for you?”

 

I rolled my eyes as my mother glanced
at Preston over the rim of her wine glass. I knew what she was trying to do.
She was hoping for some hesitation on Preston’s part, some sign that I wasn’t
very good at my job.

 

I had no clue what my mother had
against me, but whatever it was, she loved to take me down a peg at every
opportunity.

 

But Preston didn’t hesitate. “She’s
wonderful, really,” he answered as he cut his meat. We were having some kind of
chicken stuffed with dates and herbs. “Best PA I’ve ever had.”

 

“Better than that Jane girl?” his
father asked. “I thought she was working out rather nicely. It seemed to me
that the two of you were… close.”

 

I looked at Mr. Harvey across the
table. He was damn near the spitting image of his son, though with a touch of
steel at his temples that made him seem more distinguished and intimidating. He
had hawkish, amber-colored eyes that never left his son’s for one moment as he
grilled him about his ex-assistant, and probably ex-girlfriend.

 

Preston and I hadn’t discussed Jane
much in the wake of my arrival. I had a pretty good idea of what had been going
on between them, but ultimately, it was none of my business. We’d not seen hide
nor hair of her since the day she got fired, and neither of us had thought to
bring her up.

 

But now I understood why Preston had
entertained her for so long. Whether or not he was willing to admit it, I got
the distinct impression that gaining his father’s approval was something he
cared about very much despite how much he hated him. Families were complicated
like that, I supposed.

 

He answered, “It didn’t work out,”
and tried to leave it at that, but Mr. Harvey wasn’t having it.

 

“I can’t see why. Jane was a good
match for you. When she was still around you very clearly worked harder than
you ever have. She certainly seemed competent enough to me.”

 

“Well, then I suppose you didn’t
really know her,” Preston snapped, taking a long draught of his wine. As usual,
things were dematerializing pretty quickly between all of us, maybe even more
so since Preston hadn’t shown up drunk this time. I cleared my throat and interrupted
their talk of all things Jane with what seemed like a reasonable question.

 

“Was there something you wanted to
talk to us about this evening?”

 

Mr. Harvey didn’t answer right away.
He glanced from me to my mother, then back to Preston. For a moment, I was sure
he knew about us, about what we had done. Just as the knot in my stomach grew
too heavy to hold down anymore, he spoke.

 

“I heard about the Verger deal.”

 

I let out a long breath into my glass
as I drank, swallowing both the red wine and the bile that had risen into my
throat. I had to stop being so on edge. There was absolutely no way either of
our parents could know what had happened, or might what continuing happening
between Preston and I.

 

Was I really considering this? Was I
really giving serious thought to continuing my affair with my soon-to-be
stepbrother?

 

The mention of the Verger deal made
me question myself even more. That was the client Preston had been on the phone
with last night, the one who wanted to tear down a homeless shelter to put in a
luxury condo development. It was infuriating. It was absurd. It was unethical.
And yet Preston’s father seemed almost proud of him for it. I wondered how
proud he would be when Preston called the whole thing off.

 

“I take it you want this to happen?”
Preston said. He tried to play it cool, but I could hear the note of
anticipation in his voice clear as a bell.

 

Mr. Harvey nodded, leaning back in
his chair. “I’ll be honest, Preston: I wasn’t sure you’d have it in you to make
a bold move like that, especially without Jane around to give you a little
shove in the right direction. I thought maybe you’d gone soft on me. Not
everyone in your position would have the stones.” He chuckled softly. “They’d
be too afraid of going to hell.”

 

I couldn’t help but scowl. It twisted
across my face before I could stop it.

 

“Rightfully so,” I muttered, knowing
well the magnitude of the argument I was about to start. “It’s disgusting.
You’re talking about taking the one safe haven these homeless people have and
replacing it with a glorified apartment building for the wealthy. You ought to
be ashamed.”

 

Mr. Harvey seemed taken aback at my
little outburst, as if he wanted to reach across the table and smack me for
speaking out of turn and beyond my station, but before he could say a word, my
mother stepped in.

 

 
“Oh, Madison,” she sighed, amused by what
she might call my “misguided pluck.” I watched her nine-carat engagement ring
glitter under the prismatic spray of the chandelier above our heads. “You can’t
possibly think we’re responsible for their misfortune. It’s not our fault
they’re homeless.”

 

I met her gaze first, then Preston’s.
“It is now,” I said.

 

Though I doubted it would make any
difference, for once, nobody argued with me. The elder Harvey just smirked as
he chewed on a bite of his disgustingly beautiful food while holding a silver
fork that was probably worth more money than one of those poor homeless people
would come by all year…

There
was
something about Maddy’s disapproval that made mincemeat of my heart, especially
as she dressed down my father.

 

I wasn’t sure exactly what it was,
but as she glanced over at me like that with such a righteous fire in her eyes,
I felt incredibly small. No one ever made me feel that way, not even my father.
He had made me feel a lot of things in my lifetime, very few of them good, but
I could always tell myself that he did it as some kind of perverse power play,
and that would make me feel better again.

 

I couldn’t do that with Maddy, and I
didn’t know why. Maybe it was because, deep down, I knew she was right. But
what was I supposed to do? Mr. Verger was one of the biggest clients we had. It
was definitely going to upset Maddy, but I couldn’t just tell him “no.” The
kind of shit storm that would bring down on my father’s head would be unreal. I
might have done it just for that reason, if not for the fact that shit rolls
downhill.

 

No one said much else during dinner,
though I could tell from Maddy’s mother’s sighs that she considered the evening
ruined. I still didn’t fully understand what we were doing here. Was this some
kind of “atta boy” for handling the Verger problem? Or perhaps some misguided
reinforcement to ensure I didn’t chicken out on the whole sordid matter? If so,
it seemed very unlike my father.

 

When we’d all finished our meals, he
stood up from his place at the head of the table. “Vivian,” he said, “why don’t
you take Madison into the parlor for some after-dinner drinks. Preston, you go
ahead and take a few minutes to finish up here, and when you’re done, we will
finish this discussion in the study.”

 

Now it made sense. There was more to
it than met the eye, but not something my father wanted to discuss in front of
Maddy and her mother. Madison looked absolutely terrified at the prospect of
spending alone time with Vivian, and I couldn’t blame her. As my father retired
to the opulently decorated library at the far side of the house, I very quickly
decided I wasn’t hungry anymore. I took a moment to intercept Maddy just
outside the parlor door.

 

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I’ll try to
make this quick.”

 

“It’s fine,” she snapped. I could
tell she was still upset about the thing with the shelter. “I can handle myself
against my mother. I’m sure you have other things to worry about.”

 

I sighed, running a hand through my
hair. “You just don’t understand, Maddy. This is the way of the world. If I
don’t do this, somebody else will, and then…”

 

“And then you’ll all have just a
little less money,” she finished for me, her fiery eyes leaping up to meet my
own. “Gee, when you put it like that, Preston, I can almost wrap my tiny
plebian brain around it.”

 

“I didn’t mean…” I began, but Maddy
was already pulling away from me and heading into the parlor with her mom. It
spoke volumes that she’d rather subject herself to Vivian’s unique brand of
torture than remain in my company one more minute. Was she really going to put
me through the ringer over this?

 

The whole thing was unsettling for a
variety of reasons, the least of which involved memories of my mother and
father’s relationship before she’d finally divorced him and moved out.

 

She had been a lot like Maddy. She
had morals and principles, and she never backed down when someone like my
father challenged them. He always regarded her with a condescending kind of
amusement, as though someone like her couldn’t possibly understand the nuances
of running a multi-billion dollar business. I realized with no small sense of
shame that I had been treating Maddy similarly, and as I turned to walk into my
father’s office, I wondered if it was worth it.

 

My father had hardly ever bestowed a
kind word on me before. Even when I was doing his bidding. But the way he’d
looked at me over dinner this evening, I could tell that he was proud in some
sick and twisted way. He wanted me to be cutthroat, and knocking down a
building was just one in a long line of tasks he’d forced on me that ate away
at my moral pillars.

 

And the twisted thing was, I wanted
this.

 

It was what I’d always wanted from my
father. I could afford all the diamonds and gold in the world, and yet I’d
never been able to afford his approval. It was always just out of my price
range, so to speak, and I’d spent my whole life coveting it.

 

Perhaps if my father hadn’t demanded
full custody of me, I’d have had my mother there to put things in perspective.
But he and his team of lawyers had seen to it that my mother wasn’t granted
even the barest of visitation rights. Money could buy a lot of things,
including a family court judge.

 

What changed?
I wondered as I slowly pushed open the office door.
What kind of game is he playing tonight?

 

I waited patiently just beyond the
threshold of the study. Clearly he’d expected to have a few more minutes before
I arrived. My father was on the phone.

 

“No, of course not,” he was saying,
his back to me as he stared out the window at the garden beyond. I realized he
probably had no idea I was even there. I was just about to clear my throat when
he continued: “Just because I’m going through with the marriage doesn’t mean I
don’t love you.”

 

I stood stock still as I let those
words sink in. Who the hell was my father talking to? It sure as hell wasn’t
Vivian. My stomach churned. Was he cheating on Maddy’s mother?

 

The answer was obvious, but that
didn’t mean I wanted to believe it. Of all the things I’d imagined my father
was over the years, a philanderer wasn’t one of them.

 

But now it all made so much sense.
I’d always wondered what made my mother ask for a divorce. Philosophical
differences were one thing. My mother was a tolerant person, and to a degree,
she could have looked past those. But infidelity—
adultery?
That was something my mother wouldn’t have been able to
ignore.

 

Very quietly, I sat down on the
opposite side of his desk and listened to the remainder of his conversation.

 

“No, darling. It isn’t like that at
all,” he continued. I’d heard that tone before, the one he used when trying to
keep irate board members nice and calm. He was working this woman over, and if
I knew my father’s powers of persuasion, then she was buying it hook, line, and
sinker. “She’s no more special than you are. In fact, I have it on very good
authority that mistresses have more fun. You benefit from my attention and my
money without being tied down to a family. Isn’t that what a young girl like
yourself wants?”

 

I shook my head. It was pathetic,
really. He probably had some twenty-something waiting for him in the wings,
hanging on his every word while he reaped the benefits of her youth. I didn’t
want my father’s approval anymore. I didn’t want anything to do with a man who
would put everyone around him at risk just because he wanted to have his cake
and eat it too.

 

As the conversation devolved further,
I’d finally had enough. I cleared my throat loudly and watched my father spin
around, his eyes widening.

 

“Darling, I have to go,” he said and
hung up his phone.

 

I stared him down, waiting to hear
him concoct some excuse for his behavior. But all he said to me was, “How much
did you hear?”

 

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head.
“Enough to know you’re cheating on Madison’s mother,” I said.

 

For just a moment, my father looked
like he didn’t know what to do. For once in his life, it was like he had no
clue what to say or how to talk his way out of it. For a minute there, he
resembled something close to human. But then he just snorted and sat down
across from me, leaning back in his leather chair as he said:

 

“Don’t be naïve, Preston. Do you
really think Vivian’s marrying me for love?”

 

I thought back to all the things
Madison had told me about her mother. I couldn’t deny my father’s allegation,
but that didn’t make him right. I hardly knew what the two of them did in
private together, but I was betting that whatever it was, Vivian had come to
have a reasonable expectation of fidelity from the man she was about to marry.

 

As always, my father thought that
money excused everything. I shook my head in disgust.

 

“How long has this been going on?” I
asked him. And then, “I don’t just mean this one, either. Was this what made
Mom leave?”

 

That he chose not to answer. Instead
he waved his hand dismissively and muttered something about his private life
before getting to the task at hand.

 

“You might still have a lot to learn
about the nature of the world, Preston, but your performance with Harold Verger
speaks for itself.”

 

“Speaking of which, I thought we
might talk about the Verger deal…” I began, but my father cut me off,
continuing as if I hadn’t said a word.

 

“You’ve proven that I can rely on
you, son, and that’s no small feat. I think you’re ready to start taking on
more responsibility for the company. I think you’re ready to move up in the
ranks.”

 

I narrowed my eyes at him. “And what
does that mean?”

 

My father laughed. “It means that my
time at Harvey Enterprises is coming to an end. Maybe not this year or even the
next—but soon. You are my heir, and it’s time that I treated you like one.”

 

He paused, as if expecting me to say
something in return. When I didn’t, he said, “You’re going to get more involved
in the day-to-day operations of Harvey Enterprises, which means more money for
you and a bigger office. You’ll come work for me in the Harvey Tower downtown.
No more telecommuting from that little hole in the wall.”

 

That ‘hole in the wall’ was my oasis,
my sanctuary. It kept a firm boundary between me and my father, and I wasn’t so
sure I wanted to demolish it for
any
amount of money.

 

“What about Maddy?” I said. “Are you
going to hire her, too?”

 

My father shrugged. “Sure. We can
find something for her. Those part-time mail clerk positions have high
turnover. No reason I can’t stick her there.”

 

“What, for eight dollars an hour?” I
asked, raising my brows. “She’s making a hell of a lot more than that now, and
she deserves it. I know you’ve seen my productivity this month.”

 

“Yes, yes, you’ve been busy, but with
the exception of the Verger deal, I must admit much of what you’ve accomplished
hasn’t been to the level of profitability that I expect. Profits are down
nearly eight percent, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you went soft
right about the time you hired on your sweet little stepsister.”

 

I tried to keep my cool, avoiding his
attempt at putting me on the defensive. “Profits are down, but employee morale
is higher than it has been in years. Sure, I’ve made a few hard choices that
will negatively effect this quarter, but I did the right thing, and people
respect me for it. If you really want me to take over this company some day,
I’m going to need the chain of command to know that I’m a man worth
respecting.”

 

My father slammed his hand down on a
table, my body instinctively wincing against its impact. “Respect is far easier
attained through fear. Do you think I reached my station in life being nice?
Did you think I wouldn’t notice that you pushed dozens of part time workers
into enough hours that they qualify for benefits? That includes Maddy. There
isn’t a personal assistant on the planet worth the kind of money you’re paying
her.”

 

“I’m not going to argue with you
about this. Maddy deserves…” I began, but he cut me off again, his voice
raising to an octave I’d only heard when he was truly angry.

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