ARROGANT PLAYBOY (54 page)

DANE

Where
the hell is he?

I jerk my watch out from under
my sleeve and cross my arms as I glance down from my office. A steady stream of
morning traffic passes by, none of them stopping outside the building. Knowing
my brother, he’s arriving in a chauffeured import because that’s the way they
do it in New York. I suppose we each house our own brand of arrogance from our
respective posts in the world.

Last night, I slipped out of
the hospice center after Uncle Leo had passed out and saw a text from Bellamy.
Any other night I would’ve been rather pleased by such a declaration, but not
last night. I’m not quite sure I’m in the mood to play around today either.
She’s going to have it pretty easy today as I’m not exactly in a teaching mood.

I squint against the dirty
glass and make a mental note to have housekeeping touch up my windows. This is
completely unacceptable, and I want Bellamy to have something clean to cling to
when I eventually fuck her against it.

A black car pulls up to the
front of the building, and a leggy blonde climbs out. I recognize her
instantly.

I know what belongs to me when
I see it.

A man climbs out of the
passenger side and runs up behind her, reaching for her arm.

“No fucking way.” I watch
through a red fog, processing everything in slow motion and balling up my fist
when I see him lunge for her arm and spin her toward him.

I storm from my office and head
to the elevator, passing Harlow on the way. Harlow is rarely on time for work,
which serves as a reminder for me to note the time once more. It’s four past
eight. Not only did some strange man drive Bellamy to work, but she’s late.

The doors ding and part and
Bellamy steps off, clutching her chest when I startle her.

“Dane. You scared me.” She
clutches a coffee in her left hand. Since when is she a coffee drinker? “Were
you waiting for me?”

“I was.”

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she
gushes. “I have an explanation.”

“Do you now?”

“Yes…” she cocks her head to
the side, not understanding the seriousness and implications of this situation.

“Come to my office.” I take big
strides until we burst through the double doors I left open in my hasty attempt
to beat her to the elevator.

“Is…everything okay?”

“Does it look like everything’s
okay, Bellamy?”

She sets her coffee down on my
desk, and a small splash of it spills from the lid to the wood.

“Clean that up,” I say, handing
her a tissue.

She wipes it down and throws
the tissue away. “I’m confused.”

“As am I.”

“Is this about the text last
night? Is that considered speaking out of turn? Maybe I shouldn’t have sent it.
You didn’t respond, so I wasn’t sure…”

“Stop talking, Bellamy.” I
place a hand in the air to silence her nonsense. “Who is the man that dropped
you off this morning?”

Her expression freezes as her
lips part just so. “Were you watching me?”

“Answer the question.”

“He’s a family friend. My car
broke down on my way home last night. It had to be towed, and it’s in the shop.
I needed a ride to work this morning, and he offered.”

“Why did he chase after you?”

“Because I almost forgot my
coffee.”

I take a moment, pulling in a
deep breath because fuck do I need it. She almost had me reliving my days with
Jenessa, and that wouldn’t have been good for either of us. My fingertips point
together, forming an arrow pointed at her, and as soon as I’m ready to speak
again I say, “You call
me
, Bellamy.
If you need something, anything, you call
me
.
You are
my
responsibility.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,”
she said. “Next time, I’ll know to call you. I’m sorry. Believe me when I tell
you, you have nothing to worry about with my friend.”

“Do you think I’m jealous?”

Her jaw hangs. “I-I just
assumed. I mean, why else would you care who takes me to work?”

“Jealousy implies what we have
here…is
romantic
.”

“I know it’s not romantic.”

“It also implies I’m insecure,
which I find extremely insulting.”

“I know you’re not insecure,
and I would never suggest that.”

She’s damn lucky I’m letting
her speak to me as Bellamy and not as my sub. I would never allow a submissive
to talk back to me and get away scot-free with it.

“Just so we’re clear,” I say,
as my phone rings. “We are
exclusive
.
I have purchased your exclusivity at a very fair price. I am your Dom. You are
my sub. That is all we are and all we’ll ever be. And you are not to associate
with any other men, in any way, while you are under contract with me.”

Her eyes blink rapidly.

Fuck.

I know what this means.

She nods and smiles through
teary eyes before turning and walking out. I resist the urge to correct her
behavior since now is clearly not the time, and I would never scold a sub for
crying. Before I can call after her, my phone rings.

“Yes, Marlene.” I shouldn’t be
annoyed at her for doing her job, but damn her timing.

“Your brother’s here, shall I
send him back?”

“He actually checked in this
time?”

“I told him you
were…indisposed.” Marlene knows not to bother me when I’m dealing with a hybrid
employee.

“I’m available now. Send him
back.”

Waiting by the mini bar for my
brother, I pick up a crystal tumbler and contemplate pouring us a couple of
drinks. It’s way too early, barely past breakfast time, but I need a drink in
the worst way.

“Hey, asshole.” I turn to see
my younger brother, Beckham standing there wearing his signature smug smile.

“You’re late.” I sit the
tumbler back down. “As always.”

“Lighten up,” he scoffs,
trudging across the room with his hands shoved in the pockets of his linen
pants.

“Just get back from Turks and
Caicos?” I eye his casual get-up. “Or are you on your way there?”

“One of us needs to take a
vacation once in a while.”

“You get enough rest and
relaxation for the both of us.”

“Who was the pretty blonde
walking out of your office in tears a minute ago?” Beckham has a twinkle in his
eye.

“Hands off.”

“Oh, is she one of your…what do
you call it?
Submissives
?” He waves
his hands in the air in a flamboyant fashion.

“Only simple minds poke fun at
things they don’t understand.” I take a seat at my desk and pull up my email.
My brother’s only been here five minutes, and already I’m ready for him to
leave. “When are you going to see Uncle Leo?”

It’s more of a command than a
question.

“Today,” Beck says, popping
down into a guest chair. He rests an elbow on the arm and leans against his
hand, gazing out the window. I know he’s not ready. He’s been keeping a safe
distance this entire time Uncle Leo’s been sick, and we both knew this day
would come. Beck’s not equipped to deal with emotional anything, then again,
neither am I, but I never excused myself from being by our uncle’s side when he
needed me most.

Beckham smacks the arms of the
chair and stands.

“You going now?” My fingers
stop typing against my keyboard, and I turn to watch him head out.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll be back
later. Odessa’s around here somewhere. If you see a sassy redhead wandering the
halls, she’s with me.”

“Ah. You decided to make it
official with her?”

Beckham cracks a smile and
points his finger at me. “Don’t.”

The second my brother leaves, I
head to Bellamy’s office. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so intense with her this
morning, but I said what I said, and there’s no taking it back. I’m not above
apologizing, and it isn’t my intention to make her sulk the rest of the day.

I rap on her door but receive
no answer, so I show myself in.

She’s gone.

BELLAMY

“Excuse me, are you crying in
there?”

I dab my eyes and stare at the
space beneath the stall door to see a pair of peacock blue pumps. I’m not sure
if it’s Harlow or Brenna or Caitlin, but I’m not about to let them see me like
this.

I hold my breath, hoping that
will force the heaving to stop, but it only makes it worse.

“Hello?” The girl knocks on my
stall door. “I hear you in there. Open up.”

I don’t want to deal with the
mean girls, and I don’t want them to ask what happened. To be honest, I don’t
know what happened. There’s no reason for me to be in a toilet stall crying my
eyes out like the homecoming king just dumped me on football Friday night.

“I’m Odessa,” the girl says.

So it’s not Harlow, Brenna or
Caitlin?

“You going to come out?” The
toes of her blue heels lean forward like she’s standing on her tiptoes. “I’m
really tall, and I can see over the door, so you better come out. Okay, I’m not
that tall. Never mind.”

I dab my eyes once more with
the generous, four-ply toilet paper Townsend Towers keeps stocked in the
bathrooms, and unlock the door.

“Thank you, yes, there you
are.” Odessa stands with her hands on her hips and a relaxed posture, and
immediately I can tell she’s the kind of girl who’s not afraid to take on the
world. A blanket of shiny auburn hair frames a creamy, flawless complexion and
her dark green eyes are framed with the longest lashes I’ve ever seen. “Got a
name?”

“Bellamy. Do you work here?” I
thought I’d met everyone, but maybe not?

Her lips pinch. “Sort of. I
work for Townsend Energy Holdings but not here. I’m out of the New York
office.”

When I inhale the air cools my
lungs and almost makes me forget I’d just been crying. “Oh, do you work with
Beckham?”

“You know Beckham?” She says
his name with an eye roll and a bitten smile. “Or do you, like,
know
Beckham.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

Odessa bats her hand. “Forget I
said anything.”

I step past her and wash my
hands at the sink before taking a cool, wet paper towel and patting it against
my warm cheeks. Walking back to my desk is going to be difficult, especially
knowing I have to pass the reception desk where the other girls hang out.

“You’re crying over a guy,
right?” Odessa stares at my reflection in the mirror.

“Maybe.”

“He’s not worth it, whoever he
is. They never are.”

“I know.”

“If you know that, then why’d
you let one get you all worked up?”

“It wasn’t really him; it was
mostly the way he spoke to me. It was hurtful, and he wasn’t supposed to hurt
me. At least he said he wouldn’t.”

She rolls her eyes again.
“That’s what they all say, and you know what? They’re all a bunch of fucking
liars. Pardon my French.”

I suppose she’s right.

“You want to get coffee or
something? Are there any good coffee places around here that don’t have a green
mermaid as a logo?” Odessa points to the door.

Dane would be livid if I just
walked out of here without saying anything. “I don’t know. I should get back to
my desk. My boss is probably wondering where I am. I’ve been in here a while.”

“Who do you report to?”

“Dane.”

Odessa grins wide. “Oh, I’ve
got this. You’re going with me. I’ll deal with him if he gives you any shit.”

Somehow
I don’t think that’s how it works with him.

She takes my arm and drags me
out of the restroom and toward the elevator.

“I don’t have my purse,” I
object.

“Good thing I have a company
credit card.”

***

“How long have you been working
here?” Odessa pulls out a chair at a table next to the front window of a small
coffee shop. “I don’t remember seeing an email about you?”

“This is my first week.” I sit
down and take a sip of my hazelnut latte. It’s my second one today though I
hardly touched my first one. Cortland made us stop and get coffee together on
the drive in this morning. He thought it’d be cute, and he ignored me when I
pleaded with him since we were running late. “I’m his concierge.”

Odessa sits her cup down and
squares her shoulders, the corners of her mouth curling a moment later. “You’re
shitting me.”

I shake my head, looking from
side to side. “No.”

“I mean, I’d heard rumors that
he did that, but I didn’t know it was really a thing.”

Shit.

The non-disclosure agreement. I
should’ve memorized the damn thing because I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to
disclose that I’m on the payroll for sexual favors.
 

My hand claps over my mouth.
“Odessa, please don’t tell anyone what I just told you.”

“Were you crying over Dane?”

My chin dips, and I glance out
the window.

“Please, tell me you weren’t
crying over
Dane
.”

“He’s intense,” I say. “We have
an agreement, and I’m just not sure I’m what he needs, and I need this job.”

“You’re exactly his type.” She
angles herself in her chair, and her tone is flat. “Blonde. Blue eyes. Pretty.
An innocent ingénue ready to be shown the world…”

“I didn’t know he had a type.”
Do I have a type? I guess if I did, he’d be like Dane, but nicer. A little less
arrogant and a little more transparent. Someone I could get to know on a deeper
level and without being on all fours.

“Why do you need this job so
bad? There are millions of other jobs out there. Don’t work for someone who
treats you like crap. You’ve got to have more respect for yourself.”

“It’s complicated.” I lift my
Styrofoam cup and swirl it around to gauge how much is left. “Again, just
please don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Anyone I might tell probably
already knows.” She shrugs and takes another sip, her eyes following a striking
man in a gray Macintosh jacket and wayfarer sunglasses who walks by and smiles
at her.

“Who would you tell?”

“Well, Beckham,” she says. “We
tell each other everything.”

“Are you and Beckham together?”

Odessa’s mouth drops and she
lets out a robust laugh that causes the couple at the table across from us to
stare. “Absolutely not. And please don’t ever ask me that again.”

Her laugh suggests I’ve just
assumed the most outlandish thing in the world.

“Been there. Done that. Got the
t-shirt.” She pulls her small clutch from her lap and yanks out her phone.
“Speak of the devil.”

I try not to watch as she
feverishly types back a response to Beckham’s text.

“I guess we have to head back,”
she says. “I have to go with Beck to see his uncle in hospice.”

“Oh?”

“That’s why we’re here,” she
says, standing up and tilting her cup back to get the last drop. After she
tosses it in a nearby trashcan, she whips out a tin of Rosebud Salve and coats
her lips before popping in a stick of gum. “Want one?”

“Sure.”

“So Dane didn’t tell you about
Uncle Leo?”

“No.”

“I’m shocked. The man
practically raised them, well, since they were teenagers.”

We leave the coffee shop and
head back. I’m dying to ask more questions about Dane because silly me had only
ever assumed someone as put-together and driven as Dane had been raised in some
perfect family unit with two kids, a dog, and a picket fence.

“I wish you could’ve met Uncle
Leo in his better days,” Odessa says with a wistful gleam in her emerald eyes.

“Is there anything I should do
for Dane?” I ask. “Anything to help him cope with this?”

Her lips purse as her blue
heels click on the cement sidewalk. “I doubt it. If he hasn’t mentioned
anything to you yet, he probably doesn’t want to talk about it. The doctors say
it’s going to be any day now. If Dane’s a little more on edge than usual, that
might be why.”

He’s always on edge. I’m not
sure I’d be able to tell the difference at this point.

“I see,” I say as we trek into
the lobby and approach the elevator.

When we hit our floor, we walk
side by side past the reception desk where the gaggle of gossiping girls stand.
I’m not sure how or why Dane tolerates that, but it never seems like they’re
working. Odessa shoots them a glare, and they all glance away like they share a
brain. She’s a deflector, that woman.

“You ready?” A dark haired man
in a casual linen suit rounds the corner and hooks his arm into Odessa’s, but
she immediately retracts as if she knows he’s doing it to annoy her. Must be
Beckham because he looks almost like a cut-and-paste version of Dane, only with
a bit more playfulness in his stormy eyes. “Where’d you go?”

“Coffee,” she says, nodding at
me. “And it was on you, so…thanks.”

“My pleasure,” Beckham teases,
one eyebrow arched. He wears the same dimples, dark hair, and hollowed jaw as
his brother.

“It was great meeting you,
Bellamy,” Odessa places her hand across the side of my arm. “I’m not sure how
long we’ll be around this week, but I’m sure I’ll run into you again.”

I duck past them and head into
my office, waking up my computer to check my email. Not that I usually have
any. I’ve yet to do any real, actual work in this place. My heart jumps into my
throat when I see an email from HR asking me to head down to her office as soon
as I get a chance.

This is it.

I’ve approached the end of the
road.

I just want to forget this ever
happened and move on.

Thank goodness my tears are all
dried out. I stiffen my wobbly legs and rise up, pulling my shoulders back. I’m
going to march in there, take it like a grown woman and spend the rest of the
day in the city because I don’t have a car to get home, and my ride isn’t
coming until five.

“Hey, Laurie,” I say a few
minutes later, popping my head into her office.

She pulls her glasses off and
sets them down, reaching across her desk for a stack of paperwork.

“Have a seat,” she says.

My heart thuds hard and deep,
but I force a smile. I’ve been raised to grin and bear things, and this
situation would be no exception.

She places a form in front of
me and hands me a pen. “You forgot to sign your background check authorization.”

“Oh.” A shaky laugh settles in
my throat as I grab the pen and sign my name on the line. “Is that all?”

“That is all.” She slips the
form from in front of me and places it in a nearby stacker tray. “Carry on.”