The Billionaire Scoop: A BWWM Romance (Secrets & Deception Book 1) (10 page)

BOOK: The Billionaire Scoop: A BWWM Romance (Secrets & Deception Book 1)
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Chapter 13
Jim

J
im saw
the name on his phone screen and scowled.

“What is it, dad?”

“I’m giving you another chance, son. Do the right thing, or I could have that girl of yours blacklisted so fast she won’t know what hit her. But if you cut the poor girl loose, I’ll even help her get placed. We’ll sort out the apologies and go ahead as planned…”

“I only answered so I could hang up on you,” Jim said before disconnecting the call.

F
rom the fountain
, Jim stared at the arch where he’d posed with Mari, who had wanted a photo under the famous Washington Square Arch after all.

“But I won’t put it on Facebook, promise,” she’d said, but he didn’t care if she did.

He had held her in his arms from behind, full of joy and grinning as some stranger took their picture while hoping that stranger didn’t make a run for it with Mari’s phone.

Jim glanced over at the spot he and Mari stood while watching a clown ballet, then a flutist.

He kept looking around, overwhelmed by the memories of the previous day and the stark absence of Maribel that made his heart hurt.

How on earth was he supposed to get over this?

In no time at all, she had crashed into his life and made off with his heart.

Suddenly, he thought he caught a glimpse of Mari and his heart leaped.

Haha, you’re thinking about her so much you’re actually seeing her.

But joy and worry had collided strongly, leaving him reeling, and he knew it would take some time to move past his emotional entanglement with her.

Obviously, the person he’d glimpsed wasn’t her, and he tried to get his emotions to calm back down because he’d been happy to see her, but concerned about her being out this late by herself.

Why the hell did he even still care? Wasn’t her character clear?

A backstabber like that—she was tougher and far more cutthroat than she had appeared, so she could handle herself just fine; she’d fit right in here.

Had she even moved here from the south?

What had she told him that was actually true?

But even now, as hurt and angry as he felt by her betrayal, he wished he hadn’t been seeing things a few seconds ago, and that he could see her once more.

He glanced around again.

Someone who looked like her was moving closer and closer to him.

Boy, he couldn’t wait until his mind stopped playing tricks on him and making him see her in dreams and in waking life.

But the mirage of her kept getting nearer, tiny steps quickening, and he even thought he heard the figure say, “Jim.”

He blinked, and the figure remained before him.

“I’m so glad I found you!” Maribel said, looking like she wanted to hug him but was fighting her impulse.

So it was her after all, gazing at him with glistening eyes!

Too many emotions fought for his attention.

“Jesus Christ, Mari,” he said, keeping his hands in his coat pockets, “what the heck did I tell you about being alone somewhere like this at night? Don’t you watch
Law & Order?
What are you doing out here?”

Her smile widened. “You’re still worried about me.”

“Of course! Although I know I don’t have to be. And that it’s ironic as hell—thinking someone could take advantage of you.”

“I came looking for you, of course—you just left! Not that I blame you, but I couldn’t let you take off without knowing the whole story. So will you please hear me out? I know what you discovered looks pretty damning, and I need to explain.”

“Well, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past few days, it’s that things must be addressed head on; no festering, no assumptions. Not talking about something doesn’t make it go away, so spill it—although will you answer me honestly about whether or not you’re recording this conversation right now?”

“I’m not recording, and I know you have no reason to believe me, but it’s true. Look, I moved here for a reporting job, and when I didn’t get the most promising position then ran into you, I was sort of desperate to get a scoop. I felt pretty stupid for moving all the way out here without having a sure thing in place, and then having it fall through. So your conclusion is correct.”

“Thank you for honesty,” he said neutrally, then turned as if planning to leave.

“It’s been a whirlwind past few days, Jim. Things have changed big time for both of us, and for me, my priorities have definitely changed.”

He turned back to her, listening.

“My feelings are at the forefront for the first time, and if I don’t go with them, I suspect I’m going to be a very unhappy woman. Listen, I’m not going to expose you and your family—I decided I wouldn’t after that meeting with Lucy. Before then, I was sure you were just some rich playboy who ultimately wouldn’t suffer from a stupid gossip piece anyway. And why should I sacrifice my shot at a career for the likes of you? Someone born with a silver-spoon in his mouth, and even without that, born with every advantage in the current world? Outside of your father’s company, you’re destined to be given more chances, opportunities, and benefits of the doubt than I’ll ever get.”

“Is this how you always apologize?”

“But I realized you weren’t just some silver-spoon jerk. I saw the real you, vulnerable you. Human you. And there’s no way I could throw you under the bus. Jim, my attraction to you morphed into something else as I got to know you and I came to care for you quite deeply, very quickly. Alarmingly so, to be honest. What I felt for you was no longer about you possibly being the ticket to my goals, and I came to realize that what I want more than anything is you. As small as my apartment is, I can’t imagine you not being in it anymore.”

She stopped, giving him a chance to respond, but he just stood there peering at her, processing her words and his feelings.

She sounded sincere, and he wanted to believe her, and more than that, gather her in his arms, but he waited, examining her features, reading between the lines.

Mari pulled something out of her pocket and tossed it into the fountain.

“What the heck did you just do?” he asked.

“That was the voice recorder. I’m proving to you that I have no plans to use anything I got.”

Then she pulled out her phone and erased the recording on there, showing him as she did it.

“I’m not sure that’ll destroy it, by the way,” he said, nodding his chin toward the fountain. “Best to burn it or smash it to pieces. You have a lot to learn, Mari.”

He bent over the fountain, visually locating the device.

“I’m sure I’ll pick up some pee and god knows what else but here goes…”

He reached in and retrieved the recording device.

“I’ll take care of this, amateur.”

He smashed the voice recorder with his boot, then picked up the pieces and pocketed them.

“I love you, Jim,” she seemed to puke out, her words coming out fast and almost jumbled. “I care what happens to you, I care how you’re feeling, and I want your happiness more than practically anything—even if it means exiting your life. Meeting you here was mostly about taking away the hurt I know you must’ve felt when you thought I’d betrayed you. I wanted to ease it—I couldn’t stand the thought of you in pain because of me. Sure, I wanted to clear my name, but I needed you to know I wasn’t going to betray you.”

His final protective layer started peeling away though he still kept his distance.

Did she really love him? Or was she just saying it because she knew what a weakness he had for her?

He took a deep breath.

“You know, as furious as I was, I was mostly hurt and
sad
. I had a hard time imagining not seeing you again, Mari, even after what you’d done to me. Plus, I couldn’t stop worrying about you, imagining you slowly figuring out this city and making dangerous mistakes. Worst of all, despite all the logic that says otherwise, I felt compelled to forgive you. I’ve been here in disbelief, mostly, because part of me refused to accept that it was over between us; misunderstanding or not—I still wanted to be with you.”

He could tell she’d started rejoicing and was trying hard to restrain it; her body practically vibrated with hope.

“I would say I don’t understand what this means, but a lot of things are abundantly clear. I finally understood on an emotional level how my mom took my dad back after his indiscretions, and that it wasn’t just because she wanted to hold on to the lifestyle. She truly loved him, and though she always said it, I never got it viscerally until now.”

He turned fully toward her, opening his body language in preparation for what he knew was to come.

“I love you too, Mari. And yes, I still want to be with you.”

Mari practically flew toward him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she grabbed him in a hug.

He held her thin frame to him tightly, his body celebrating at holding her close again.

When they finally pulled away, she said, “Aren’t you afraid your dad will cut you off?”

He shook his head.

“Even if he did, I’m pretty much set. I mean, I’ve worked in finances practically all my adult life. I picked up a thing or two.”

Mari’s eyes didn’t leave his face, and they seemed larger than normal, shimmering with unshed tears.

“Will you come home with me tonight?”

She didn’t say it in any lewd way, but he grinned wickedly at her.

“Why, Mari, I’m exactly that kind of guy.”

He pulled her into a brief kiss.

“After tonight, though, as cozy and warm as your apartment is, I’m going back to the penthouse. It’s got quite a view and too many bedrooms for just me, so you’re welcome to come too. If you like it, maybe we can work something out.”

He winked at her.

“I really do love you, Jim,” she said far too seriously.

He held her face in his hands.

“I really do love you too, Maribel Gibson. Oh—remind me to tell you more about this dream I had.”

“The one where you were marrying someone who wasn’t Lucy?”

“How did you know I meant that one?”

“Just a guess. Especially since it’s the only one you ever mentioned.”

“Well, I told you the details were all fuzzy, but recently, the face of my dream bride became clear.”

Chapter 14
Maribel

M
aribel knew
her mouth was hanging open and didn’t care.

She looked around the suite, wondering how long it would take to actually visually take it all in.

She felt like she’d already spent a few minutes checking out just a quarter of Jim’s place.

The penthouse was easily larger than the home she’d grown up in, and the view from it took her breath away.

“This doesn’t even make sense,” she said, trying to process the striking evidence of his wealth before her.

The furniture, the flooring, the furnishings—everything was a testament to the handsome man’s fortune.

She felt like she should take off her shoes and leave them outside so they didn’t spoil the look of the place.

“How…?”

“Just over four thousand square feet. See, I told you—I need some company so it’s not such a waste.”

“How the heck did you stay in my place for days when you have all of this here? My god, my apartment must have felt like a bathroom to you. And just the toilet part.”

He chuckled.

“It’s easy once you’re there. Once I met you, I had a longing to be wherever you were. Home is where the heart is, right? Besides, I had the whole avoiding-the-public-and-the-press thing going on—well, so I thought. Speaking of which, I would have never pegged you for a sleazy reporter, Mari; you really surprised me there.”

She felt offended at first but realized that’s exactly the road she’d been about to embark.

“I never planned to be. I wanted to be more like...Erin Brockovich. Or Michael Moore. Investigative journalists with public health—physical and otherwise—in mind.”

“So how did you go from Erin Brockovich to TMZ?”

She shrugged.

“You don’t understand—I don’t fail anything. I’ve been on the honor roll my whole school life, never got anything less than a B, graduated high school salutatorian, graduated magna cum laude from college with a double major in Journalism and Communication Studies. I’m used to things going pretty smoothly, so when I got here and didn’t get the job that seemed promised to me, I panicked.”

“My god, you’re hard on yourself. And I thought my dad was bad. You didn’t even give yourself time…”

“But I have a five-year plan! And it includes winning a Pulitzer by the age of twenty-five, thank you very much.”

He chuckled again.

“Wow. You do dream big. Well, I hate to break it to you, but celebrity gossip won’t get you there.”

“I just thought it would get my foot in the door. I thought somehow it would buy me a way in, and soon, I’d be able to dictate my own stories and terms. The sooner I got hired, the sooner I could flex my article-writing muscles. I thought how I started wouldn’t matter so much—it was all about getting to a particular end.

“Anyway, the longer I stayed here, jobless, the more panicked I got as I realized what and who I was up against. Sure, I have some savings for living expenses, but as you know—well, you might not—it’s super expensive here, and I had sort of nightmarish visions of having to take up something—
anything
else—just to pay bills, spending valuable energy doing something I didn’t want to do. Even if gossip wasn’t exactly what I wanted to do, at least it was in the general vicinity of my intended job—unlike admin or something. I could at least tell people I work for so-and-so magazine or newspaper. All most people back home know is that I wanted to be a reporter—not specifically what kind—and I wanted to, you know, look like an instant success. Everyone expects it, including me.”

“Well, it looks to me like you were in such a hurry to get out, you didn’t give yourself time to figure out a structured path. Not to knock the entertainment industry, but you don’t have to wallow in that muck to get your name out there—it might even be detrimental if you want to be taken seriously. Believe me, I know—rushing into something just as a means to some end is not always the best idea. Essentially, by throwing me under the bus for your trashy exposé, it would have been like you committing to marrying Lucy; while some sort of immediate benefit might come of it, think of what it could prevent you from having instead. For example, you could be fulfilling some silly request for your boss and not have the time to pursue some other worthwhile story.”

He grabbed her hands.

“I waited for you, Mari. You can wait for the right opportunity. Like I said, I do have friends and friends of friends in high places. I can pull some strings, possibly even get you a job as a news assistant—a reporter in business news, perhaps. But eventually.”

He hesitated, and she wondered about the wary look in his eyes.

“Sounds to me like you could have built up a portfolio where you’re from—it seems you had plenty of material to work with there.”

“Top three racist states in the country? No doubt it’s fertile ground, but good luck getting anyone to pay attention. I might as well type water is wet. Maybe eventually, after establishing myself.”

“So you’re sure you want to stay here?”

She looked at him quizzically.

“Of course.”

“Great. I have a proposition for you. Listen—don’t get offended, but I’ve been doing some thinking and that led to a bit of digging, and I think you should get your master’s degree from Columbia’s School of Journalism. Depending on if you’re getting the M.S. or M.A., you’ll be done in nine or ten months, and it’s a hell of a thing to add to your resumé. Hell, it was founded by Joseph Pulitzer himself—it’s where they hand out the awards. You don’t even have to go full-time; you can attend part-time while working if you want. Either way, you’ll be rubbing shoulders with past, present, and future greats in the field. Maybe the real reason you were led here was to get you in that school. Heck, you live just, what, thirty minutes from it?”

“You’re saying, despite my plans, the actual reason I was drawn here was to run into some millionaire to encourage me to continue my schooling.”

“And pay for it, of course.”

It took Maribel a few seconds to form her words.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. It’s only about a hundred grand, and I’m sure we can find some way both you and my company can benefit from it. Now, from what I read, you’ll want to start with the Master of Science since it’s for aspiring journalists, possibly the concentration in Investigative Journalism.”

“Wow, you sure did your homework. You know, I had considered graduate school, but not everyone gets scholarships, and if I didn’t get a job that could cover it…”

“Well, that’s no longer a concern, is it? So let’s tuck that baggage away.”

She smiled, feeling as if a weight had been lifted.

“So you’ve figured things out for me—what about you?”

“I want to be wherever you are, Mari. If you agree with me about furthering your education, I’m happy to keep working at the company. I love it here in New York, and with you here, I have no reason to leave. I realized the problem wasn’t the job itself—it was that that’s all there was. Staying with the company and having an arranged wife did not appeal to me; it felt too much like getting to choose nothing important in my own life. But with you around, I no longer feel as if something’s missing. I have no problem showing up to work, doing whatever I have to do as long as I get to come home to you. You made me appreciate what I have, and I’m quite content with everything I’ve got going on now, everything I’ve been given. Your presence makes all the difference, Mari. Which brings me to my next proposition.”

It was her turn to look at him warily.

“Traveling around the world, perhaps getting experience interning at various international media places could make a hell of an application essay.”

She burst into laughter.

“I’m dead serious, Mari. Maybe not the world, and we don’t have to go for months—perhaps just one month—but the application deadline for Columbia is December 15th. We’ll, of course, get it in long before then.”

He grabbed her hands again.

“I’ve been over-prepared for something I wasn’t sure I wanted, and you’ve been underprepared for something you’re sure you want. We both need to get out of our comfort zones, look at things from another angle. Reward ourselves for being so good so far about whatever—however you want to look at it. Just come away with me, Mari; I want to spend some time truly away from everything with you. ”

She didn’t have to think about it for long—no money or job woes for a month? Actually taking a vacation? Count her in!

She nodded with an inviting smile.

He smiled back then bent to kiss her, sending warmth traveling through her core as he pulled her close.

“I’ll even make sure you keep your little apartment. The whole time we’re gone, the whole time we’re back…however long you want. Until you’re sure of me.”

She was pretty sure of him now, but she didn’t bother to say it.

“You better be prepared, Jim. People are going to say some weird things now that you’re with me.”

He shrugged. “It’s not like I only dated white girls before.”

“Yeah, but am I just some lay? Or am I the girl you’d rather be with than Lucy? Once people realize you’re serious…”

“Fuck ‘em. I really don’t want you to worry about any of that stuff, Mari; I won’t let anyone bother you or harass us. Don’t think I won’t dip into my funds to protect you by any means necessary. Now what about your family? How do you think they’ll respond to some white guy visiting on holidays?”

“They won’t care. My best friend Annie will be stoked because she’s all for love however it comes. My parents…well, they might think I took leaving them behind to the extreme.”

“We can’t let them think that. Let’s fly them here for Christmas!”

“They’d love that, I think.”

“Great. But first things first—you, me, Europe.”

BOOK: The Billionaire Scoop: A BWWM Romance (Secrets & Deception Book 1)
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