Danny (Models On Top #1) (42 page)

When we enter the conference room, my eyes meet Keaton’s. I’m tempted to turn away from his glower. I can feel his hate burning through me, but I do what Danny always tells me to do. I raise my chin.

We sit down, and while our lawyer goes over the settlement agreement, Keaton continues to stare at me. His limited range of emotions seems to have run out and he’s stuck on confusion.

When I glance to my left, Danny is not amused. He takes my hand under the table, and with our fingers woven together, sets them right on the top for everyone to see.

Keaton’s eyes dart to Danny, and I hear, just above the silence, “Fuck you.”

I squeeze Danny’s hand to calm him, but I’m also struggling to stay calm under these circumstances. As soon as our lawyer finishes reading the agreement, Keaton’s lawyer sets an addendum down on the table and pushes it across the shiny wood surface so we all can see. There’s a lot of fine print, but what stands out is the following line:

By agreeing to this settlement, Daniel Weston, waves his right to see Ms. Reese Carmichael in any professional or social capacity. By doing so, the monies settled will be reduced by $1,000,000.

I’m on my feet, my palms slamming down on the table. “You can’t do that!”

Danny’s lawyer calls to me. “Ms. Carmichael, I’ll handle this. Please sit down.” He clears his throat and pushes the addendum back. “This was not a part of the original agreement and we won’t accept the addition during this final meeting.”

As Keaton’s lawyer checks a text message that vibrated his phone, Keaton sits back, smug in his chair, his fingers forming a temple in front of him.

I say, “You won’t win, Keaton.”

“I already have, sweetheart. Either way, I win. That’s what you get for fucking the help.”

My feet barely touch the ground as I fly forward to slap him. Danny catches me and pulls me back. “Now you’ve gone and pissed her off. Good luck, asshole,” he warns, with his own wry smirk in place.

He makes me want to spit when he says, “I can handle her.”

Through my blinding rage, I manage to reach down and find the reason I’m here. I slap a check down on the table and push it toward his lawyer. Keaton and his lawyer both lean forward to get a closer look. I say, “You’ll never separate us. You can’t keep us apart. It’s a lot of money, but I’d pay it again to be with him.”

A check for seven million dollars is between Keaton and us. Danny turns to me, and whispers, “Where did you get that money?”

“I sold my apartment. There was a bidding war, a quick sale, and a cash offer. The deal was too good to pass up, and I cashed out my investments and 401k, so don’t worry, the check is good.”

Danny stares at me, then says, “I’m not worried if you’re good for the money. You didn’t have to do all that. Keep your money. I don’t want you to pay, Reese. I want to pay and I’m prepared to.”

“I’m prepared to pay, too.” The whole transaction of selling my sought after apartment in a trendy part of Manhattan took less than two weeks. With money in hand, I’m willing to give it all up for this second chance.

Keaton interrupts, “What the fuck, Reese? Are you seriously fighting over who’s going to pay me the money
he
owes me for breaching the contract?”

I hate the sound of his voice. Turning toward Danny, I kiss him. Because we’ve paid our dues for the
crime
we committed and I don’t want to spend another second dealing with this.

With my back to Keaton’s side of the table, the other lawyer clears his throat this time. When I look back, Keaton is standing in front of the windows with his back to us. His lawyer pushes the check back to me. “We won’t be collecting it. Mr. Klein has decided to drop the charge and forget this happened.”

“And why is that?” Danny’s lawyer asks.

Keaton turns, a mixture of anger and resolve fills his stance. “Mr. Vittori has agreed to an eleven-million-dollar, one-year deal if we stop the proceedings.”

Oh Vinnie.
Looking over at Keaton. He feels the victor. He thinks he has won. But this proves what I knew all along. I never mattered to him. All of his claims of love were just deceptions dressed in expensive suits. This was never about love. It was about ownership.
His.
Good riddance, Keaton Klein. Asshole.

I smile. Vinnie may be stuck working with Klein for another year, but you can’t beat the sentiment. Looking to Danny, I say, “We’re done here. We get to be together and keep the money. Look who wins after all?”

He takes me in his arms and kisses me hard. “Oh baby, we were the winners all along.” He stands. “Let’s get out of here.”

We follow our lawyer out, but Keaton’s lawyer calls me, “Ms. Carmichael, against my advice, Mr. Klein has requested to speak with you.”

“I have no interest in speaking with Mr. Klein.”

Keaton appears in the doorway. “Please, Reese. Just a minute of your time.”

Danny’s hold on my hand tightens, but there are a few things I’d like to say to Keaton as well. I whisper into Danny’s ear, “I’ll be all right. This will be quick.”

Begrudgingly he nods and walks a few feet away. I walk to the corner, but not back inside the room like I think he wants. When he feels he has sufficient privacy, he asks, “How could you sell? You love that apartment.”

“I love him more.”

“Give me a break. He’s a model. How could
that model
possibly be a better catch than me? I mean… really,” he scoffs.

“This is the last time you’ll ever disrespect me or my boyfriend.”

“What can he give you that I can’t?”

Now there’s a loaded question if I ever heard one. I love a great setup.

“Happiness. Love.
Real love.
I’m not a puppet he wants to control. His pride doesn’t keep him from showing real emotion. He doesn’t treat me as an equal. He treats me better. And the sex? Best. Sex. Ever. So you see? He’s nothing like you.” I turn on my Louboutin-clad feet. With my hand on my hip, I kick up a stiletto, so he can see the signature-red sole. “Guess what? I bought my own. I think I’ll wear these tonight while fucking
that
model
.”

THOSE SEXY FUCKING
shoes.

The little devils—tempting me to the dark side of the bedroom where our bed lies waiting for a good romp. But Reese is on the phone with Vinnie thanking him for the bailout. She puts him on speakerphone after he insists. “If I couldn’t help you with the money, I had to help however I could. Love should always trump hate. Anyway, Reeses, my little peanut buttercup, you’re going to need that money for your agency.”

“What happened to Candy Girl?” she asks, laughing, the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders.

“I’m in a chocolate and peanut butter phase.”

“Ah. I see.”

I shout from across the room. “Thank you, Designer Vittori.”

“You’re most welcome, Model Danny.”

Sinking farther down into the mattress, adrenaline letting go, I get all my sins off my chest. “And by the way, I kept the pants from New York. They fit in all the right places.”

“Keep them. I’ll never find another model to fill them out anyway.”

“I found it impressive that you never measured the inseam and they fit perfectly.”

“I’ve got a good eye for those kind of things. Call it a talent.”

Reese starts laughing so hard that she begins to cough. I shake my head. “We’ll let this conversation lie where we leave, which is right here. Thanks again.”

She finally hangs up the phone after a fit of giggles and goodbyes. Her dress came off an hour ago and she’s been walking around in the smallest of panties and bra that covers too much of her amazing chest.
And those heels.
Damn I like those heels on her.

I’m about to call my woman over when my phone rings. I answer it because I know the wedding was tonight. “Hey, Luke, how’s the wedding?”

“Terrible.”

“Are you still there?”

“Yeah.”

“Leave if it’s so bad. No one’s forcing you to stay if it’s torture.”

“No, it’s not torture. It’s terrible because I don’t know what to do.”

I scratch my head, perplexed. “What’s going on?”

“Jane danced with me, but she returned to
him
.”

“
Him
, her boyfriend?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Is she coming back?”

“I don’t think so. I told her I still loved her. She said thank you and that she had to go back to her date.”

“Dude, get out of there. Cut your losses and leave.”

“You’re right. I need to leave.” The reception music is loud in the background, but starts to sound distant, until it’s quiet. “Can I come over?”

Reese is bending over while reaching for something in her bag and all I see are two miles of legs, a great ass, and those shoes. I sit up when her legs part oh so slightly, zeroing in on where I want to be most.

“Danny? I’m almost there. It’s cool to stop by, right?”

Luke’s voice is killing my hard-on. My silent plea is
No!
My verbal response is, “Sure.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

I sigh when I hang up, torn between being a good friend and struggling that I can’t be alone with my woman. She asks, “What’s wrong?”

“You dressed like that.”

Reaching for the strap on her shoulder, she playfully lifts it teasing me. “If this is a problem, I can take this off.”

“Fuck, I want you so fucking badly.” I swing my legs off the bed and stand, rubbing my hard-on and willing it down.

“You say that as if I’m not more than willing.” Taking her panties down, she adds, “Have I not been clear enough?”

As if my balls don’t hate me enough, my voice goes up an octave. “Don’t do that. Luke’s coming over. And if you take those off, I could give a fuck that my best friend is coming over after having his heart trampled on tonight by his ex.”

“Awww. Oh nooo.” She pulls her panties up and I whimper. Smiling, she asks, “What happened?”

“Those panties fucking happened.”

Tilting her head and with her hand on her hip, she smirks. So fucking sexy. “I meant what happened to Luke.”

Oh.
“Long story, but he wants to stop by and I don’t know, hug it out or something. Once we opened the emotional flood gates, we’ve been pussies ever since.”

“Showing emotion does not make you a pussy, and I thought you liked pussy?”

“Eating. Fucking. Making you come. Making love. Take your pick, but acting like one is not appealing.”

She rolls her eyes. “Get rid of that hard-on and I’ll get dressed.”

As I pull on my jeans, I ask, “You sure it’s okay that he stops by?”

Like that’s the most ridiculous question ever, she says, “Of course. You’re being a good friend. I’m going to take a bath. We can pick up where we left off later tonight.”

“With the shoes?”

“That’s why I bought them. I’ll give you two chatterboxes some privacy.” She shakes her ass and walks into the bathroom.

Luke arrives shortly after I get dressed and I grab two beers from the fridge. I hand him one when I answer the door and walk into the living room with him. Sitting down, I get comfortable on the couch. He takes the chair and says, “I can’t figure her out.”

“I don’t think she knows what she wants either.”

Taking a long pull from the bottle, he leans back. “Do I give her up?”

“I don’t know, man. How do you feel about her?” I finish half the beer as we sink knee-deep into his emotions.

He doesn’t hesitate. “I love her.”

“There’s your answer.”

Setting his bottle down, he looks up, and then rubs his hands over his face. “I don’t think it’s supposed to be this hard.”

I follow in the direction he’s looking and spot Reese’s purse. “If it’s meant to be, hard or not, it will be.”

“Our timing’s off. Our lives out of sync.”

“Do you think she’ll marry him?”

“I want to say no, but I’m not sure if that’s my ego or gut speaking.”

I smile. “Probably your ego, knowing you.”

“Yeah. Probably.”

Standing up, I set the bottle down on the coffee table and open my arms wide.

His face scrunches as he looks at me in mild horror. It’s how I feel, so I understand. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going to hug it out.”

“No. Sit the fuck down.”

Holding strong, I say, “Nope. We’re going to do this and get it out of the way so we never have to do it again.”

“What the hell are you smoking?”

“I’m dead serious. Come on. My arms are getting tired.”

He shakes his head. He mutters under his breath. He pretends to leave by walking away. But he returns and hugs me. We hold tight and make sure to pat each other hard on the back before parting. Luke looks confused. “Shit, that actually made me feel a little better. Maybe chicks are onto something.”

I laugh. “Whether it made you feel better or not, it made me feel worse. Never again. Agreed?”

Laughing, he nods. “Agreed. And on that note, I’m good.”

“So the Jane drama lives on?”

“No. I think it’s time for me to move on.”

As we walk to the door, I warn, “But no more Jennas, Jackies, or Jennifers.”

“Dude, if you take the Jennifers of the world out of play, that won’t leave much.”