Bait: Alpha Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (4 page)

“Why is that so bad?” Nolan asked. “Life’s too short to be so hyper focused on rules and shoulds.”

“How do I put this delicately?” I said, carefully thinking about my next words.

Nolan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t beat around the bush, Charlie. Have the courage to say what’s on your mind.”

He wanted courage? Here goes.

“Your company could be in big trouble if you don’t do some damage control soon. Every week, there’s something in the paper extolling you as some sex-crazed loose cannon. You have a paternity suit that could cost you millions of dollars, not to mention your reputation. And you want to attend the Winter Ball to get funding for an important project. In this city, your reputation is everything. You’re behaving like a college frat boy instead of an intelligent and capable businessman.” I snapped. I hated it so much when people who were handed every opportunity chose to fuck it up and throw it away. Like trash.

Nolan fixed his gaze on me, his eyes narrowed as he considered my comments. I brought a hand up to cover my mouth. I was getting fired. Walking out of this restaurant in the middle of lunch like some loser. Then, he surprised me. Again.

“I’ll admit. I’ve done some foolish things in the past, and you’re very welcome to bring them up for discussion, but don’t accuse me of something that’s not true.” He squared his shoulders, looking directly at me like a man ready for a debate and not backing down. “I’ve told you that the paternity suit is nothing but lies. It’s your job to watch my back and help me with situations like that. Because of my parents’ wealth, I’m an easy target for people who see dollar signs when they meet me. I’m more than just a checkbook. I’ve donated a lot of time to making sure this charity project gets off the ground.”

Of course, he was right. Who was I to judge? My face burned with regret and instant shame. “I’m sorry.”

Nolan wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Apology accepted.”

“I shouldn’t have said those things,” I started.

He waved me off. “I’m sure after reading the tabloids you would expect to believe some of those lies. Don’t ever be afraid to tell me the truth. Contrary to Jasmine’s comments, I don’t want to be surrounded by yes people.”

“Of course,” I said, relieved that he didn’t hold any grudges.

“You can attend the ball with me next weekend and I promise to be the consummate gentleman.”

“But you hardly know me,” I argued.

“We can remedy that,” Nolan said, the sparkle back in his eyes. “Did you grow up around here?”

“I was raised in the south,” I answered. “Atlanta, Georgia. Home of the Braves and sweet tea. I went to UGA for my undergraduate and then was blessed with a scholarship to Harvard Law School. After living in the deep south for so long, I decided a change of scenery was needed. My best friend landed a job in New York City and asked that I come here for a visit. That vacation turned into a permanent residence. I fell in love with the tall buildings, the noise, the subway, Central Park, coffee at any hour of the day, and the unique smell of pizza and car fumes mingled with a little garbage.”

Nolan chuckled. “The city does have its own unique assaults on the nostrils.”

“I stayed because of the job opportunities. The city is crawling with lawyers.”

“But you decided to come work for a small real estate firm?” He raised an eyebrow. “Why not one of those big firms?”

“Been there, done that,” I said sarcastically. “I wasted half my life in a cubicle working my ass off, never seeing daylight, slaving away while some senior partner made ten times as much as I did.”

“Now you work for some hard to control bad-boy?” Nolan pushed his plate away.

Was that a trick question?

“What does it matter to you why I took this job?”

He fixed me with his gaze, and it was like there was no one else in the restaurant but the two of us. “It matters a great deal,” he answered. “I want to know everything about you. What makes you tick? What makes you get out of bed in the morning? Who is Charlene de Monaco?”

My heart did this weird little flip-flop at the sound of Nolan Banks using my full name. But why would the city’s most eligible bachelor want to know more about me? “I’m just a girl who likes to make her rent on time. Maybe splurge a little on a pair of Jimmy Choo’s when I have the money. I like going to museums. Watching sappy movies like
The City of Angels
and
Marley and Me
. I like to sleep in on Sunday mornings. Coffee in bed with the Sunday paper spread out. I like to help people.” I swallowed the emotion that threatened. “I don’t ever want to see another child starve from hunger or not have a roof over their head.”

Nolan looked at me as tears welled up in my eyes. God, the last thing I wanted to do was cry in front of this man. So unprofessional.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I was raised by my father. Times were tough growing up. I got made fun of at school by mean girls because I wore the same outfit three days in a row. My dad couldn’t afford to buy me designer jeans like most of the girls wore. It was hard.”

Nolan reached over and rubbed my hand, his eyes wide with sympathy. Not empathy because there was no way this rich New Yorker could understand going without. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“How could you?” I answered as I averted my eyes from his searching and soulful brown ones. I picked a fake piece of lint from my navy blue pencil skirt. “This is why I took the job. For the opportunity to help on a project that is near and dear to my heart.” I glanced at my watch. It was already two o’clock. We’d been at the restaurant for almost two hours. “Oh, crap! Jasmine is going to kill me.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been away from the office too long.”

Nolan waved his hand. “I’ll tell her it was a business lunch—”

“She’s going to fire me.” I started to panic as I pushed back my chair, my purse falling to the floor. Tampons, loose change, lipstick, and my cell phone skittered across the polished marble. Tears welled up in my eyes again as I fell to my knees to gather them. Nolan squatted too, handing pennies and dimes to me. Talk about humiliation. He probably threw loose change on the ground and left it. I froze as his hand was on my shoulder, comforting me. “Don’t worry. Everything will be okay. Jasmine is a little too big for her skirt clad britches.”

When we arrived at the office, Nolan’s hand was on the small of my back guiding me through the reception area. I rounded the corner into the main corridor before Nolan and nearly ran right into Jasmine. She flew into a rage as soon as her eyes landed on mine.

“Where the hell have you been?” Her hands were clamped tightly on her hips. “I asked you to stay here and answer the phone. If I can’t depend on you to do one small little thing—”

“Jasmine, is there a problem here?” Nolan asked.

Jasmine’s eyes went wide. She immediately relaxed her hands at her side and pasted a smile on her face. “I was concerned because we are a little short-staffed today.” She looked at the doggie bag Nolan was holding in his hands. “How was lunch?”

Nolan ignored her question. “In the future, when we’re short-staffed, call HR for a temp. Or better yet, utilize the interns.” He continued to touch me as he led us deeper into the office. Then he glanced over his shoulder and gave a parting shot. “By the way, Charlie no longer reports to you. Change her HR file today. She’ll be my direct report from now on.”

Jasmine’s face turned all kinds of shades of red. I almost — almost — felt sorry for her. Being reprimanded by the boss, especially in front of the person you were just yelling at was not a good look on her. She simply nodded and briskly walked away.

Nolan gave me a wink. “She’s got a story, but it’s for another day. I better let you get back to work. We’ve got a busy week ahead of us.”

Day 2: Jasmine = 0, Charlie =1

Chapter 5

The next morning, I arrived at the office with a newfound hope. Not only was I invited to attend the Winter Ball with Nolan, but I was also excited about working with him on the Grant Project.

I got to my office and dumped my briefcase and purse on my desk. First things first, I needed to check my emails and make sure there wasn’t a fire that needed dousing. Scanning through the few pages, I finally saw what I’d been waiting for. The report from the PI, Lydia Truant. I read the short letter—

Charlie,

Report is attached on Sarah Jane. Hope this helps you out. Let’s have drinks soon.

Lydia

PS. I added a special bonus for you.

I opened the attachment and sent it to my personal printer. While the printer whirred to life and did its thing, I eagerly read the background check on Sarah Jane Smythe.

My heart did a flip when I saw that Miss Sarah Jane had filed two other lawsuits in the past three years. A slip and fall in a chain restaurant was dismissed by the judge when the private investigator the insurance company hired had found evidence that she’d been dancing at a wedding when she was supposed to be laid up in bed with her injury. The second lawsuit settled for a measly two thousand dollars and medical expenses when she’d sued a supermarket for food poisoning.

What really got my heart racing was when I saw the ‘special bonus’ Lydia had thrown in for free. Not only was Sarah Jane married — and had been for five years — but she was photographed with her husband. Ms. Smythe had recently pulled all of her husband’s photos from her Facebook page. Right before she filed the law suit against Nolan.

I rubbed my hands together. This was good. As I picked up the phone to call her plaintiff’s attorney, Jasmine appeared in my doorway. She was holding two steaming cups of coffee. What the hell? I put the phone back on the receiver.

“Good morning, Charlene. I hope you like vanilla lattes.” She sat the cup on my desk and made herself comfortable in the guest chair. “So what’s new?”

“I’m working on the Smythe case.” I peered into the cup and then took a sniff. Should I ask her to take a drink first? Did I dare?

“Good, good. Bring me up to speed.”

I reached over to the printer and pulled out the sheaf of papers. Smiling, I handed them to her.

Jasmine scanned the papers, making weird humming noises as she did so. A minute later, she pushed them across my desk. “What does this prove?”

Huh?

“Well, it proves that she is known for filing frivolous lawsuits. And two, she’s married.” What more proof could I give my boss?

Jasmine scoffed. “That doesn’t prove anything. First off, the past lawsuits have no bearing on the paternity suit. Secondly, just because she’s married doesn’t mean she can’t get pregnant by another man. You did have sex-ed back in junior high, didn’t you?”

So much for Dragon Breath turning over a new leaf. That had been short-lived. I showed Jasmine the Facebook pictures from Sarah Jane’s profile page. “She’s been posting photos of her husband on her personal page. Kissing, hugging, obviously very much in love.”

“Call the lawyer and offer a settlement.”

Rubbing my temples, I was at a loss for words. Jasmine wanted to offer this girl a settlement when it was blatantly obvious that she was lying about her pregnancy. Or at least lying about who the father was. It was clear to me that Sarah Jane Smythe had been overcome by dollar signs when she met Nolan. No way in hell was Charlene de Monaco going to settle a bogus law suit. This conniving bitch would get nothing.

“Nolan said he didn’t sleep with her,” I said as I played my final card.

Jasmine cocked her head to the side. “When did he tell you this?”

“At lunch yesterday.”

“Well, that’s very interesting.” Jasmine stood from her chair and walked to the door. Dismissing the information. Dismissing me. “Call the attorney. Offer a settlement. Keep me in the loop.”

My first thought was to call Nolan and run Jasmine’s suggestion by him. Actually, it was more of a command than a suggestion. On second thought, I didn’t want Nolan to think I couldn’t make decisions on my own. If my gut reaction didn’t pan out, then I could always go back and offer the settlement.

I picked up the phone and called the attorney. I checked my watched and saw that I had five minutes before my morning meeting with Callum to go over the closing statement for the high-rise project.

A minute later, I had him on the line. I explained our position to him. We had discovered the two frivolous lawsuits plus the evidence that Ms. Smythe was married, happily married according to her social media page. The attorney told me that he did know Ms. Smythe was married, but it was his understanding that she was separated from her husband at the time of conception. His client still maintained that Nolan was the father.

“If that’s true, then Ms. Smythe won’t have a problem taking a prenatal DNA test. At the expense of Mr. Banks, of course. I have the name of a local company that can perform the tests. I’ll email that over to you this afternoon.”

We ended the conversation with the promise that he’d call me back after conferring with his client.

My stomach fluttered as I put the vanilla latte in the trash. Did I make the right decision? What if she took the test, and it came back that Nolan was the father? What if he’d lied to me? I shook my head, clearing it of all negative thoughts. I wouldn’t think about it anymore until I heard back from her lawyer.

Grabbing my file, I left for the conference room. I was reviewing the file while walking down the corridor when I felt a bump, and the file fluttered to the floor.

“Hello, Charlie.”

Startled, I looked up and my breath caught in my throat. Nolan was in front of me, looking as handsome as ever in a well-tailored navy suit that hugged his shoulders and arms. Around his neck was a light blue tie that contrasted with his dreamy eyes. Did he have to look so damn hot all the time? So hot I seemed to forget my own name.

I looked away quickly, before he could see my reaction. He bent down to retrieve my file. “How is your day going?”

I answered, “So far so good.”

He handed the file back to me. “How about we have dinner tonight at my place?”

My pulsed leaped and I was momentarily rooted to the spot. I shoved the file under my arm. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Nolan picked an imaginary piece of lint from his sleeve. “We could discuss strategy for the Winter Ball.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Strategy? For what?”

“Getting donations for our little project. Besides, I’m a good cook. You’ll die for my pasta carbonara.”

“As much as I love pasta carbonara, I already have plans for the evening.”

Nolan’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he retrieved it. Looking at the caller ID he said, “Okay, maybe next time. Good luck with your meeting.”

Nolan had a reputation for being persuasive and tenacious, which made him a good negotiator. I was surprised at how easily he gave up on dinner. Surprised and a little disappointed. But I should have known better. Nolan Banks would never go for the plain, buttoned up Brainiac when he had access to every gorgeous supermodel in New York.