The Billionaire’s Secret Heart (A 'Scandals of the Bad Boy Billionaires' Romance) (7 page)

"
T
he doorbell is ringing
," Emily shouted from the kitchen. I was just out of the shower, my hair in a towel, putting lotion on. I knew Em hated to answer the door, but I wasn't in any condition to do it myself.

"You have to get it," I shouted back. She must have answered it, because I didn't hear anything else. Curious, I finished with the lotion, put on my thick terrycloth robe, and pulled a comb through my hair before going to see who was at our door. I knew that for a lot of people, Thursday night was the beginning of the weekend, but not for me. I had a full day of classes the next day and zero desire to go out. I emerged from the bathroom to find Emily standing in front of the door, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at a man who wasn't Holden but looked almost exactly like him. This must be the cousin. Tate.

"Can I help you?" I asked, trying to think of a reason Holden's cousin would be in my apartment. It was pretty clear Holden wasn't interested in me anymore. Why would he send his cousin over here?

Tate's blue eyes were locked on Emily, an odd, slightly bemused expression on his face. When she snapped her fingers in front of him, I knew he must be making her nervous. Emily was only rude when she was nervous. He gave her a slow smile and caught her snapping fingers in his, turning them so he could kiss the back of her hand. Swoon. Emily's cheeks flared pink, and she snatched back her hand.

"Hello?" I said, not sure I wanted to interrupt whatever was going on between Tate and my so very shy roommate. Tate looked smitten. But Emily was not the girl for him. Em was gorgeous, taller than me, very curvy, with straight, shiny dark hair, and clear gray eyes fringed with lashes so thick, she never needed mascara.

But she didn't date, barely went out, and would have no idea how to handle a man like Tate Winters. If he was anything like Holden, he'd use Emily and toss her away. She didn't need her first experience with a guy to end in a broken heart.

Suddenly worried, I stepped between them, gently pushing Em behind me. Looking up, I met Tate's eyes and asked, "What are you doing here? What do you want?"

Just the sight of him, so much like Holden, was painful. He crossed his arms over his chest and said,

"I told him you wouldn't be worth it. That you'd just end up like all the others. But even I didn't think you'd use him and then blow him off."

He wasn't making any sense. I heard his words, but I couldn't get them to fall in the right order in my head. Me using Holden? What the hell was he talking about?

"She didn't use him," Emily cut in as she stepped out from behind me. She was pissed of, her back stiff, one arm wrapped around herself and the other raised, finger pointing at Tate in stabs of motion as she lectured, "Jo didn't use him. He used
her
! He took her out, swept her off her feet, and then didn't call. That's the definition of blowing someone off."

Tate looked from Emily to me, then back to Emily. He shook his head at her and grabbed her fingers again, holding her hand in his as he said, "Monday and Tuesday weren't his fault. We had a huge blow-up at work and he was stuck putting out fires until Wednesday morning. And he still managed to call your girl."

"Yeah, once. That was it. She never heard from him again," Emily shouted, trying to wrestle her hand back from him, this time unsuccessfully.

I could speak for myself, probably should have, but I was fascinated by the interaction between Emily and Tate. Not that I was letting it go on. She deserved better. But I couldn't remember the last time I saw her go head to head with a stranger. Friends or teammates on a project, sure. But not strangers, especially strange men.

"He's called her three fucking times a day," Tate said, tugging on Em's hand for emphasis. "Left her messages. Now, he looks like someone kicked his fucking puppy, and I'm pissed."

I stared at Tate in shock as he looked at me and demanded, "What is
wrong
with you?"

I didn't say a thing, my head reeling. He had
not
called me three times a day. He'd called me once, and I'd called him back. I may have even texted him—something I hadn't told Emily—and he hadn't responded to that either. Before I could jump in to defend myself, Emily wrenched her hand out of Tate's grip and yelled,

"Nothing is wrong with her. She came back on Monday all moony eyed over your cousin, then he blew her off and went out with some redhead. What's wrong with
him
?"

"He didn't go out with anyone," Tate said, looking at Emily as if she were unhinged.

"Darren showed Jo a picture. I looked it up. Tuesday night, he was out with a redhead while Jo was crying herself to sleep."

"Hey," I said, affronted. They both looked at me, annoyed I'd interrupted. "He doesn't need to hear that part," I directed to Em. She set her jaw and folded her arms, resolute.

"It's the truth," she said. "He should know what a jerk his cousin is."

"Show me the picture," Tate said. "Holden didn't go out with anyone Tuesday night. He was shut up in the office with me, dealing with a crisis."

Emily pulled her phone from her pocket, tapped on the screen for a minute, then shoved it at Tate. He studied the picture for a second before hooting with laughter. He handed her back her phone, pulled out his own, tapped a few times, and showed Emily the screen.

"That picture is a reprint. And here's Holden, with me, his brother Jacob, and his
sister
, Charlie," he said, sounding smug as Em studied his phone with a suspicious gaze. She shoved the phone back at him without a comment. Finally, Tate looked at me.

"He's called you. Seriously, he called multiple times."

Afraid to hope he was telling the truth, I stared a him for almost a full minute before walking to the kitchen table, picking up my phone, and handing it to him.

"Take a look," I said. "I haven't gotten a call since Monday night."

Tate tapped his way through my phone, I'm sure checking the call history and text messages. He finally said, "You could have erased them."

I threw my hands in the air, then grabbed my phone back. "Why would I do that? I'm not the one playing a game here."

"Someone is," Tate said, an ominous tone in his voice. "Because Holden definitely called you. I know his phone works. I used it myself this morning, and he'd know if something was wrong with it."

"I've made calls on mine. Look." I handed the phone back to Tate. "I texted Holden yesterday."

Emily gave me an accusing look. "You didn't tell me that."

I looked away, feeling my cheeks heat. I normally told her everything, but she'd been so pissed at him on my behalf, I hadn't wanted to confess my weakness.

"Sorry," I whispered. "I couldn't stop myself."

Emily, never one to hold a grudge, at least not against me, wrapped her arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze, whispering back, "Something is up. I actually believe him."

"I kind of do too," I said, afraid to hope Tate might be telling the truth. I'd missed Holden with a hollow ache that was only getting worse. It was too much to imagine he might be feeling the same way.

Tate finished with my phone and handed it back. "Holden didn't get that text," he said. "I was with him when you sent it. We were in the office, and both of our phones were out. I would have seen it come in."

I stared down at my phone, my mind turning the odd problem over and over, looking for an answer. There was no way the phone had spontaneously decided to malfunction on specific calls. If it were broken, it would be dropping calls randomly. Not one phone number. Pulling up my call history, I double-checked Holden's record and found it wasn't blocked.

I liked solving puzzles. Like a sleepwalker, my brain occupied with the mystery, I headed for my laptop in the living room. I took a cable from the drawer in the coffee table, hooked my phone to my computer, and opened a jailbreak program that would let me get into the operating system of the phone. Everything looked normal. Whatever was wrong was hiding from me.

Following a hunch, I opened a virus program a friend had been working on. Emily, peering over my shoulder, said, "Good call."

The program took a few minutes to run, and the three of us watched its progress on my screen, our breath held as numbers rolled by, a line of green getting longer as the software scanned my phone and found nothing. I started to sit back, defeated, when a red STOP sign popped up and my laptop gave an angry beep.

VIRUS DETECTED

"What the hell?" I asked. I gave the program the order to quarantine the virus so I could take a closer look. When it was done, I opened it up to study the code. A few lines in, and I was seeing red. That bastard. Surging to my feet, I pushed past Emily. I had to get dressed. I had some geek ass to kick.

"What?" Emily asked, following me down the hall. "What did you find?"

"That was Darren's virus," I said, searching through my drawers for clothes. I dragged on my jeans, pulled a sweatshirt over my head, and shoved flip flops on my feet.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Positive. He has signatures all over his code. I gave him a hard time about it and told him it was sloppy and he'd better never make a virus, or he'd get caught in a second. He's too smart to be so dumb."

"What an asshole," she said, turning to Tate, who had waited for us at the end of the hall. She said, "Darren is the one who showed her that picture of Holden with his sister. He has a crush on Jo, and she turned him down."

"I'm going to kill that little shit," I said.

Tate stepped in front of me as I stormed to the door of my apartment. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, looking like he was stifling a laugh.

"Get out of my way," I said, stepping to the side. Tate mirrored me, clearly not willing to let me leave until I answered his question. "I'm going to Darren's to kick his ass."

"No, you're not," he said. "Holden would kill me if I let anything happen to you. Let me call him."

"No," I said. "This whole thing is my fault. I
gave
Darren my phone. I never thought he'd do something like this. He made me miserable for days. He
knew
I was miserable. I thought he was my friend."

I stepped to the side again, trying to get around Tate. He easily blocked me. "Holden will understand," he said. "Let's go to the club, and you can explain."

"Sure," I said, my vision going red as I thought about what Darren had done. "After I talk to Darren."

"I'm driving," Tate said, taking my arm in his hand.

"What?" Emily and I asked in unison.

"Do you think I'm going to let you confront this guy on your own? If you won't talk to Holden first, I'm at least going to watch your back."

"I'm coming too," Emily said from behind me. I looked at her in shock. Jumping into the middle of a drama was not Emily's style. "Well, I'm not letting you go off with him." She pointed at Tate like he was a serial killer holding me at knifepoint.

"Fine," I said.

I didn't care. I just wanted to get moving. Darren wasn't my best friend, but we'd known each other for two years. I wouldn't fully believe he could have done something like this until he admitted it to my face.

T
ate drove
us to Darren's apartment, me in the front seat and Emily in the back, leaning forward so she was more between us than behind.

"I heard you're working on a new physics engine. And that you've written advancements in emergent gaming into Syndrome 2," she said, the pulse thudding in the side of her neck. I'd expected Em to disappear into the backseat once her anger at Tate had drained away. I should have known her curiosity about their company would prod her to speak despite her shyness.

Tate didn't respond, but I saw his lips twitch in a half-smile from the corner of my eye. He was messing with her. My head wrapped up in the problems with Darren and thoughts of Holden, I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Maybe it was good for Emily to step out of her comfort zone.

"Well?" she demanded. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Tate asked evenly. I stifled a laugh when Em gritted her teeth.

"Either! Both! It seems unlikely that you could be doing both, but I know you have a huge team at WGC and they're crazy talented, so it's possible, but . . ."

She trailed off as it became clear Tate wasn't going to answer her. I could have sworn I heard a low growl in her throat. I'd always known gaming and computers were the key to getting past Emily's shell, but I couldn't quite believe how open she was being with Tate. Normally, a guy like him—gorgeous, rich, successful, and a player—would have frozen her mouth shut. Instead, she was almost sparring with him. Still, what happened next took me by surprise.

Tate pulled the car into a spot on the street a block from Darren's apartment and turned in his seat to face Emily. "Go out to dinner with me," he ordered.

"What?" she asked, her voice more like a squeak.

"Go out to dinner with me, and I'll bring you to WGC for dessert. I might even let you see a demo of what we're working on."

Emily's eyes flashed wide, excitement flaring through the clear gray for just a moment before a wall came crashing down. She looked away from Tate, drew in a short breath, and said, "No, thank you," in a cool, prim tone.

It was Tate's turn for the wide eyes. Looking at the blank expression on his face, I wondered if Emily was the first girl to turn him down. Taking in his thick, dark hair, perfect cheekbones and full lips, I wouldn't have been surprised to find out that no female had ever said no to him.

Part of me wanted to referee whatever was going on between my best friend and Holden's cousin, but I had an ass to kick before I could see Holden. Tate and Emily could work out their issues later.

I opened the door of the car, shaking them out of their absorption. Tate followed me out of the car, Emily just behind. I strode to the door of the building, then stopped so abruptly, Tate had to put a hand on my shoulder to keep from walking into me. Turning to him, I asked in a small voice,

"He really called? You're not screwing with me?"

Tate leaned down and met my eyes with his. We'd only just met, and though he looked like Holden, his dark blue eyes were all his own. Still, they seemed sincere when he squeezed my shoulder and said, "He's a mess. I swear, he's called you at least three times a day. I'm not setting you up to get burned. That's on your friend upstairs. Let's go take care of him so you can put my boy out of his misery."

I nodded, reassured. I'd accepted Holden walking away so easily because it made sense. In my world, billionaire hot guys didn't fall for geeky chicks who looked more like they belonged in a library than on a runway. It had been too easy to believe he'd slept with me and then forgotten my name. Believing that he was missing me as much as I missed him? That was a lot harder.

With Tate's reassurance to bolster me, I opened the door and climbed the stairs to the second floor. I'd only been to Darren's apartment a few times, but I remembered how to get there. My anger had me on auto-pilot.

I pounded on the cheap wooden door without pause until it swung open beneath my hand. Darren's face broke into a smile at the sight of me. His expression dimmed when he saw Tate and Emily behind me. Shifting uncomfortably, he shoved his hands in his back pockets and said, "Hey, Jo, what's up?"

I held up my phone and waved in in his face. "Leave something in my phone, Darren?"

His eyes flicked from me to Tate to Emily, landing on my phone. He made a grab for it, but I tucked it in my back pocket. When he looked as if he'd go for it anyway, Tate stepped closer.

"Don't even think about it," he said, his arms crossed, his body slightly angled between me and Darren. He wasn't getting in my way, but it was obvious he'd take Darren down if he tried to lay a finger on me.

Darren slid his hands back into his pockets and tried for an innocent expression. "I don't know what you're talking about, Jo. I haven't touched your phone."

"You're an idiot, Darren," I said. "I don't know how someone so smart can be such a stupid tool. Everyone saw you working on my phone on Wednesday. I have a copy of the virus, and it's got your signatures all over it. What the hell were you thinking?"

He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. "You were just supposed to think he was blowing you off. He's already stopped calling. I was going to take it off tomorrow in the lab. You never would have known I did anything."

Tears sprang to my eyes as I realized he was right. If Tate hadn't confronted me, I would have just assumed Holden was done with me. Darren would have erased the virus, and I never would have known what he'd done. My chance with Holden would have gone up in smoke, a victim of Darren's jealousy.

"Why?" I asked, willing myself not to cry in front of him. "I thought we were friends."

"We are," he protested. "You're too good for that guy. He's fucked half the city. He's an entitled man-whore. You can do so much better than him—"

Darren didn't get to finish his tirade against Holden. Before I could think it through, my fist shot out, and I hit him on the face. Once. Then twice. Pain exploded in my hand, but I hit him again a third time, hard enough that he stumbled back, tripping over his own feet and landing on the floor.

"Don't talk about Holden like that," I said, my temper so lost I wondered if I'd ever find it. "You know nothing about him. He's a good man. He deserves everything. He deserves so much better than an asshole like you fucking with his life."

I took a step forward, maybe to kick him, I don't know. I wasn't thinking clearly. A strong arm hooked around my waist, pulling me back into a hard chest. Tate swung me around until I was facing Emily.

"I think you're done, hot shot," he said. "His nose is bleeding, and so is your hand."

I checked my hand, suddenly feeling the throb in my now bloody knuckles. I did
not
know how to throw a punch. As the adrenaline faded, my hand started to seriously hurt.

"Fine," I said to Tate. To Darren, still on the floor, I said, "I'm turning you in. I have the virus, and anyone who's worked with you will be able to verify it's yours. Plus, you just confessed in front of witnesses, genius. You're fucked. Have a nice life."

Cradling my hand against my chest, I turned for the stairwell at the end of the hall. I was done wasting time on Darren. All I really wanted was to set things straight with Holden.