Redhead On The Run (RedHeads Book 1)

by Rebecca Royce

  He leaned slightly forward. We hadn’t dropped our gazes since we’d held them. I was chewing, he was watching. It should have been uncomfortable. It wasn’t.

  I was so sick of should.

  “Another.” He lifted his eyebrows slowly. It was like an unasked question. Would I do it? Yes, I would. I took another bite. The slightest smile played on his lips. This was a different one than I’d ever seen him do before.

  “Your father is stealing a lot of money from me. As I briefly explained before, half of everything he earns is mine and vice versa. I’ve kept my end of the bargain, even when I would have preferred otherwise. I wouldn’t have made that deal if I’d known what would come. I could have made anyone as rich as I made your father. And someone else would lose and make a fortune over and over again in as brutal a way as your dad did.”

  I sipped my wine. No one had ever told me any of this. “He lost his money?”

  “Over and over again. Stupid, poorly judged market moves. I used to wonder if he’d been possessed by a three-year-old who had never read a market report.” He held up his hand like he was stopping himself from saying anything else. “He could have gotten out of this brutal work marriage anytime he wanted to, just by letting me out of it. But he kept us both stuck, and now he’s hiding money. So he can start up without me. Part of me thinks I should just let him. We’re both brutally rich. I don’t need more, and I can finally take my talents and go elsewhere with them. But…” He rubbed his eyes. “Fuck me. I don’t have it in me to lose. Not like that. Not to him. Not while he thinks he got away with something.”

  I took a much longer sip of my drink. Zeke held up my sandwich, and I bit into it, chewing and swallowing.

  I’d finished the sandwich. I didn’t even realize I had. I’d absolutely eaten the whole thing and hadn’t even realized. I picked up my wine glass. It was like some sort of shield between me and the rest of this conversation I was about to have.

  “I’m not sure how I can help you with that. You have the wrong sister in your house. I’m the one who couldn’t find the accounts or anything. I mean, that’s all virtual, right? Can’t you hire someone to hack him or something?”

  Even one day earlier, I couldn’t have imagined suggesting that someone do that to my father. Today? I really couldn’t seem to bring myself to care. Did that make me a terrible person? Was that something I should be worried about?

  “I have people on that. What I need is for him to slip up. When he gets frazzled, he makes poor decisions. One more bad one, and he’s going to have to go get money from somewhere. When he does that, I will have him.”

  I was finally catching on. “Somehow, I’m going to make him make a poor decision? I bet he has already. Hope said she thought he was going to have a heart attack. I think I’ve done what you wanted without even knowing.”

  The wine tasted fierce. It burned a little bit and had a kick to it, like it might lash out and destroy the drinker if given the chance. I’d drunk almost all of it now and wouldn’t mind more if he poured it.

  Zeke grabbed the bottle and put more in the glass. “You did. You threw him right off his game, and today, our numbers tanked. I lost millions of dollars.”

  I was so confused. Why was this good news? “I’m…I’m sorry….”

  “No, it’s a good thing. I need to lose to win. Now, I just need him to get upset again. One more time, and he’ll get caught in the web he forced me to spin.”

  I cleared my throat. “What am I supposed to do? I mean…I left Kit at the altar. I’m not sure what else I could pull off this week.”

  “Be seen with me. Let’s take lots of photos together. Start speculation. I checked out your social media presence while you were soaking your feet.” When he said it like that, I felt like I was Nana. She’d died when I was ten, but I could distinctly remember she used to talk about soaking her feet all of the time. I was twenty-two, and I suddenly had that in common with my grandmother. I tried and failed to restrain my grin.

  He stopped talking. “Is something funny?”

  “You wouldn’t get it. My mind is weird. Go on. I’m going to be seen with you. Are we dating in these scenarios? And I’ve never been great at managing my social media. The company did that, mostly.”

  His mouth fell open. “What?”

  “The company—”

  He waved his hand, and I shut up. “I heard you. I just can’t believe it. I mean…I believe it. I just don’t. I’m COO in addition to a lot of other things. How the fuck is the company arranging your social media, and I didn’t know about it?”

  “Well, maybe because you’re in Paris and that is happening in New York?”

  I had to blame the wine. I really had no business commenting on the workings of his company. He narrowed his gaze at me. “Most things are done remotely now. No one has to be in the same location to work anymore. We have offices all over the world. I get up in the middle of the night to talk to Hong Kong.”

  I held up my hands in imitation of the way he did it. “Yes, except they’re all there. And you’re here.”

  He took a long sip of his own wine. “I can’t be in the building with him. I almost skipped your wedding.”

  “Thank you for coming. To the hotel. I don’t know that you needed to see me run down the aisle but…thanks for saving me.”

  He cleared my plate, sticking it in the sink. “Stop saying thank you.”

  “I like to say thank you. It’s important to acknowledge when people do something for you. It’s okay to feel grateful. There’s nothing wrong with telling someone that you feel what they did mattered.” I needed him to understand. “I don’t know what I would have done today without you, and that is why I’m going to be honest with you. I can pretend to be your girlfriend. I don’t even think it would be that hard.” I took another drink. “You’re very good looking. Who wouldn’t want to be your girlfriend?” Yep, I’d just said that. I’d clearly had too much of the kick-butt red wine, but I wasn’t going to stop. I liked it. “But they’ll never believe it. I promise you that. Plus, he doesn’t care. He disowned me. I have to pay him back for the wedding-that-wasn’t.” I perked up. “I love that phrase.”

  He took my hand. “They’ll believe it. And I didn’t know you were this much of a lightweight. Come on. You need a nap. We’ll talk more at dinner.”

  “I have to eat again?” The idea was preposterous. I never consumed food in the middle of the day and then again at night. Breakfast, dinner, fine. In small doses, but…

  He picked me up. “You have to eat again. I’m catching on to this being an issue for you. But yes, while you live here, you’re going to eat. Those are not words I ever expected to say in my whole life.”

  “So you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”

  He took the steps two at a time. “Yes. When we’re in public. And in the meantime, I’m going to help you sort out your life so no one can ever take advantage of your good nature again.”

  “My good nature? I don’t think I have a good nature particularly. I’m…”

  He shook his head. “So help me, Layla. I don’t want to hear you say one more bad word about yourself, or I might have to put you over my lap and paddle your ass.”

  I widened my eyes, his words sinking into my buzzing head like I’d sunk into the bath earlier. He was holding me, but I wished I could squirm. He’d just threatened to spank me again, and…I liked it.

  Zeke laid me down in the guest room bed. He looked around. “Why are your clothes still in your suitcase?”

  “I’m not sure if I’m staying.” I yawned. “Why am I so tired? It’s the middle of the day.”

  “Well.” He took my sneakers off my feet and laid them next to the bed. “You’ve only been here a few days. You’re jet lagged.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t feel jet lag, ever.”

  “Everyone feels jet lag.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. This should have been an uncomfortable moment. We didn’t know each other, and yet it wasn’
t. It must have been the wine. I’d never felt this at ease with anyone, ever. “You’ve been through a lot today on top of that. And it turned out you get drunk on the equivalent of one glass of wine. Probably because you don’t eat.”

  The last two explanations were probable. But I didn’t buy the jet lag. I never felt it. “What will you give me? In exchange for pretending to be your girlfriend to piss off my dad so you can find his secret stash of money? You know, besides spanking me.”

  He smirked at me. “You liked that idea. I saw it.”

  “I might not like it when I’m in my right mind.”

  He shrugged. “I wouldn’t do it unless you were.”

  This was the strangest conversation of my life. “Okay, so besides that.”

  “I can make it so no one can ever do this to you again. You’ll be in control of your own destiny. People will never try to intimidate or punish you again.” He leaned forward. “Unless you want them to. Think about it. We can decide at dinner. Here’s lesson one, and it’s a freebie. Say no if you want to. Always. A lot. Say it so many times, people are actually afraid you will. Say it just because you want to fuck with someone’s day.” He paused. “Tell me no. Kick me out. Tell me you’re not going to do what I want.”

  Zeke stared at me a long moment, which was when I realized he really wanted me to answer that. “No?”

  “That’s too bad. Now, I’ll have to kick you out.” He pushed away from the bed, and I waited for the wink. It took him a second longer than I would have preferred it to. “Take a nap, Layla. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  I sat up. “No,” I practically shouted at the door, and he laughed as he closed it behind him.

  Who was Zeke Scott, and why was he so confusing?

  Much as I was now yawning, there was no way I was going to actually sleep.

  “Layla.”

  A deep voice called to me, pushing through a haze of sleep where I didn’t have to think about anything. No, I didn’t want to wake up. I liked it where I was. I was comfortable.

  “Layla.” This time the voice was accompanied by a gentle stroke on my head. I couldn’t ignore the sweetness since I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had woken me up pleasantly. It was strange, and the oddness of it was enough to draw me out of the happy place where I’d been so contented to stay.

  Zeke was back in the place where he’d sat by me earlier. “There she is. You sleep hard.”

  I groaned. “Truthfully, I hardly sleep at all.” I sat up on my elbows. “Maybe it all hit me.”

  “I woke you because I wanted to show you something. I try to see it every night when I’m home. You’ll like it.”

  I rubbed at my face. “Okay. Give me a second.”

  “Yep.” Zeke shot me another look before he exited my room.

  This was a strange situation. I’d dreamed of him for years. Some of my most early sexual awakenings revolved around fantasizing about him. Now, here I was with him, in his house, having conversations I didn’t really understand. He wanted me to make my father pay. That much I understood, and he was going to help me if I agreed.

  I quickly washed my face and brushed my teeth. He was right. I’d slept hard. It was difficult to clear my head. I couldn’t even remember if I dreamed. There was a headache forming behind my eyes the way that always happened when I actually did sleep after too long of not sleeping. I’d be back on track if I could actually rest steadily for the next few nights.

  That was unlikely, considering things.

  It seemed to make sense to just stay in my socks. I padded out to find him, which turned out not to be challenging. Two doors were open to the left of my room that led out to a balcony I hadn’t seen earlier, because it was on the opposite side of the house from where I’d entered it.

  He stood in the center of the balcony, starting at the changing sky.

  It was sunset. I walked over and stood next to him, staring out at the city ahead of us as everything seemed to turn pink around us.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  He nodded. “I live here because there is nowhere else I’d rather watch sunsets in the world. I’ve been practically everywhere. And it never looks better than right here.”

  In the distance, the Eiffel Tower almost seemed to glow. “Is it true that Parisians didn’t like the Eiffel Tower when it was first built?”

  “I think that is mostly not true, but the story persists.”

  That was true of most things. The stories liked to persist, even when there wasn’t an ounce of truth to them. “The radio tower one.”

  He nodded. “That’s right.”

  I stayed quiet to watch the pink turn into orange and move over us. He didn’t want to watch the sunset anywhere but here. That was sort of beautiful. I’d never spent much time watching them, even in places like this that were considered the most beautiful in the world. I had no new messages on my phone but stared at the time. It was nine-thirty. Sunset came later here. At least this time of the year.

  Had it only been that morning I’d run from my life? “I may have made a huge mistake today.”

  “Maybe. Only time will tell, and if you take control of things, you can make it so it’s just the opposite of that. Your greatest triumph. Your sisters are dependent on your father for their existence. You don’t have to be, not anymore.”

  I supposed that was one way of looking at it. “They help him run the company now. Sure, it was nepotism, but they’re bright and he knows how capable they are. Who can you rely on if not your family?”

  “You couldn’t rely on them. Not one of them.” He turned from the view of the sunset to view me. “What do you think, Layla? Pretend to be my girlfriend, and I’ll put you on a new path. No one even has to know it’s fake if you don’t ever want them to.”

  I winced. “I really hate lying.”

  “Except to yourself, apparently.”

  Okay, I’d had enough. I pointed my finger at him. “Watch it. You know I know how to smack you.”

  His smile was slow. “Yes, you do.”

  “So, watch it. You don’t have to like me, but I’m not taking shit from you. Other people, okay, they’ve earned the right, but you are going to watch your mouth. You can think it, don’t say it.”

  Zeke lifted an eyebrow. “Look at that, she has a backbone.”

  “Last warning. Next snarky remark, and I’m going to slap you.”

  He needed an answer. I was either agreeing to this with a man who could alternate between taking care of me and telling me I was pathetic. Or I was getting on an airplane and leaving Paris, putting this behind me, as I begged my father for another chance. The thought put a bad taste in my mouth. Sour, disgusting. I almost considered spitting over the side of his balcony, but to do so would go against everything I knew about behavior.

  “I’ll do it.”

  He nodded once, not looking at me as he turned back toward the ever-disappearing sunset. “Good. Tell me what your situation is. Leave nothing out. If you owe money to drug dealers or the mob or a tribal leader in the middle of the Sudan, tell me all of it. Think of me as your personal confessor. I need the whole picture to figure out what to do.”

  I patted my hands on the balcony. It was hard to talk about myself. Oh, I could interview with the best of them. Platitudes and saying nothing of import. But this? It was different. “How do I know you can do what you say you can do? If you were so good at this, why would you need me?”

  “Restraint.”

  That made no sense. “What?”

  “When you’re as rich as your father and I am, you know people who do all kinds of things. Whether you wanted to or not. At some point, you have to hire a security company who knows another company… Anyway, the reason I am trying to use you to get your father to dig his own grave is because I chose several years ago not to use the power I have to end his life.”

  A shiver moved through me. Was this for real? “You thought about killing my father?”

  “Yes, and I have it on good au
thority that he has considered doing the same to me. More than once. Both of us are exercising a great deal of restraint. He ignores my messages and pretends I don’t exist unless he absolutely must speak to me, and I do the same for him. We’re at a stalemate not killing each other. Restraint.”

  I wanted to puke, and not from the delicious food I’d had earlier. “That can’t be real. No. Business people don’t…”

  He shook his head, effectively silencing me. “Business is the number one reason for that kind of thing. Well, business and passion. People kill for that, too. Drug dealers and cartels…they’re all in business.”

  My heart rate kicked up. It felt like I’d run a marathon. “Is that the kind of thing you and my father do?”

  “No, princess.” He looked away from me. “We are not in drugs or guns. Or anything like that. Just good old-fashioned runs-the-world business. And we’re restraining ourselves from ending the other one, permanently.”

  If he wanted me to believe he could help me, he’d done that. If he really knew the kind of people who could do all that, then he probably could. I hated every second of it, and I wanted out of this life I hadn’t known I was living on the outskirts of, immediately if not sooner.

  But I had problems that had to be solved. And if dealing with gorgeous, and now scary, Zeke Scott could do that for me, then so be it. I’d use him as he used me at the same time, and we’d both walk away with what we wanted.

  “I don’t want my sisters hurt.” I’d said that before, and I was sure I would again. In a world where I cared about nothing and no one cared about me, they were the exception. Maybe they weren’t perfect, but they were mine.

  He nodded. “I’m not taking your father’s fortune, Layla. When I’m done, I’ll just have what’s mine. He’ll have his half, and he and your sainted sisters are welcome to create whatever business they want with it.”

  “Don’t call them that.” I didn’t like it, and I wasn’t going to put up with him disparaging them.

  “Layla.” The sun was setting on him and this conversation. He wanted my answers, and I had to give them to him.