Beach Reads Box Set

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  “I’m not sure how to tell you this, Frankie,” Raul began for the third time, clearing his throat. Brenda sat next to him at the conference table stemming her tears with a third tissue.

  Frankie saw her employee file on the table and had connected the dots within five seconds of walking into the room.

  “We lost our grant,” Raul announced. “Two of them, actually. They’re not even being funded anymore, so it wasn’t anything that you did in the grant writing. It wasn’t anything that we did as an organization, it was just… bad luck.”

  Her life felt like it had been nothing but bad luck these past few weeks.

  “So, what I’m trying to say,” Raul took a deep breath, “is that we’re shutting the office down. We can’t continue to serve the business community without those funds, and we’ve been talking about retiring for a while now.”

  Brenda blew her nose noisily.

  “And that means that your employment is also terminated.” Raul choked out the words and reached for his coffee, managing to spill most of it.

  “Okay, then,” Frankie said, too numb to process anything. It was the trajectory of her life, plummeting straight down. By this time next week, she’d be warming her hands on the open flames in hell if her descent continued. “I’ll just pack up my stuff and go.”

  Brenda’s quiet sniffles turned into full blown wails. “We’re so sorry, sweetie! And after everything that you’ve been through…”

  Frankie rose and gave each of them a mechanical hug. They had been mentors, second parents, and friends to her. And now they, too, were out of her life.

  “Can we take you to lunch or… something?” Raul asked.

  She shook her head. “No, thanks.”

  “We’ll send you your vacation pay with your last paycheck,” he said, looking glumly at the table.

  “Thank you,” Frankie said, pausing inside the door and taking a last look at the room.

  Downstairs, she shoved what she could from her desk into an empty paper ream box and stepped out into the mocking sunshine. The end of March was showing signs of the spring to come. But nothing could thaw the ice inside her.

  She sat down on the curb in a scrap of sunshine that filtered between the branches of the trees. Was this rock bottom? No job, six weeks shy of finishing her master’s, and she was going to have to decide between rent and tuition. Oh, and speaking of school, this job and her social media workshops had been part of her thesis project. So, graduation this spring was no longer an option.

  And worse was the fact that Aiden had stopped contacting her a week ago. As if he’d vanished from the face of the planet. But he was still here. Still working. Still existing. Still living his life.

  She knew because she couldn’t stop herself from opening those blasted Google alert emails every damn morning.

  He went to work every day, had dinner in the city, made appearances. Meanwhile, she’d stopped talking to everyone. Her parents, her brothers, Pru. She was avoiding human contact because she no longer felt human.

  The anger, the hurt, had shifted inside her making room for a new feeling. One she didn’t understand. Guilt.

  “Frankie!”

  She winced at the cheery greeting. She couldn’t do Pru right now. She was incapable of even pretending to be happy to see her best friend.

  “Hi,” Frankie said flatly.

  “Why are you sitting on the sidewalk with a box of… Oh.”

  “I got fired. They’re shutting down the center,” Frankie said.

  “Then you’ve got time for me to buy you lunch,” silver-lining-finder Pru announced. “Let’s go.” She dragged Frankie to her feet and picked up the box. “I’m feeling like pizza.”

  Frankie stumbled over her own feet. “You’re voluntarily eating pizza? Do I really look that bad?”

  “You look like a zombie. Sort of alive on the outside but totally dead and gross on the inside.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Pru led the way to one of Frankie’s favorite pizza shops, chattering about the weather and gossip. Frankie didn’t bother responding. It took too much effort.

  Pru slid into the booth across from her and interlaced her fingers, smiling expectantly. “I’ve got some things I need to tell you.”

  “Is everything okay?” Frankie asked, rousing herself into a minimal level of caring.

  Her friend nodded.

  “What can I get you ladies?” Vinnie the proprietor demanded, leaning on their table with a combination of charm and impatience.

  “The biggest, greasiest pepperoni pizza you can make,” Pru decided. “And how about some of those garlic twists?”

  Frankie’s eyebrows winged up. Her friend was serious about all the carbs today.

  Vinnie took their drink orders and headed back behind the counter.

  “So. I’m pregnant,” Pru announced.

  Frankie’s mouth opened. Her brain wasn’t prepared for new information of that magnitude.

  “Wha…?”

  “Pregnant. Like with my husband’s baby?” Pru said, beaming at her. “Thanks, Vin,” she said when Vinnie returned with their waters.

  Frankie chugged half of hers, trying to get her brain back to functioning. “You’re going to have a baby?”

  Pru nodded again. “Honeymoon baby, which was a surprise. But we’re so excited.”

  Frankie could see it. The sheer delight on her friend’s face. And even though her own life was in the gutter, she still felt a stirring of happiness for Pru.

  “Wow. Congratulations. Chip must be thrilled.”

  “He wavers between thrilled and hyperventilating. He ordered sixteen parenting, pregnancy, and baby books and wants to start interviewing nannies now.”

  “Wow,” Frankie said again. A rush of memories washing over her. Pru dressed as Carmen Miranda strolling into their dorm room on Halloween. Pru dancing on the bar at Salvio’s after one too many margaritas. Pru trying on her wedding dress for the first time. “I know I don’t look it, but I am so happy for you.”

  Pru reached across the table and grabbed Frankie’s hand. “I know your life sucks right now. But you’re going to be an aunt, and that’s worth something. And I want you to hang on to that aunt thing while I say this next thing.”

  “Uh-uh.” Frankie braced herself.

  “Why haven’t you talked to Aiden?” Pru asked.

  Frankie felt herself shutting down again. “Look, Pru. There are things you don’t know. No, he didn’t cheat on me with ol’ one-eyebrow. But there was something else. Something much bigger.”

  “I know,” Pru said, squeezing her hand. “He told me. He talked to me and Chip last week.”

  “He told you?” Frankie asked, astonished.

  “He planted the seeds for Chip to break up with me.”

  “And you’re okay with that? He robbed you both of years of happiness, Pru. Because he thought you weren’t good enough for his friend.”

  “He thought I was immature and flighty, and to be honest, he may have been right. Not that I’d tell him that. I was fresh out of college and had diamond rings in my eyes. I had no idea what marriage was actually about. I just wanted a sparkly ring and a big party. If we hadn’t broken up and both matured a bit, I don’t know that we’d still be together. And I do know that this little low-carb baby wouldn’t be growing in me. I’m stronger than I was then. Happier. Maybe the slightest bit more mature. And in the end, Aiden was just looking out for his friend. A friend who made the decision through no coercion, I might add.”

  “He hurt you,” Frankie pointed out.

  “And I forgave him. You should try it sometime.”

  Frankie snorted and stabbed her straw into her glass of ice. “Fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice…”

  “Do you think relationships mean never screwing up at all?” Pru asked. “The insult was against me, the damage was done to me, and I’ve forgiven him. Why can’t you?”

  “Because you always had a sof
t heart. If I were you, I never would have forgiven Chip.”

  “And where would I be then? Not married to a man who makes me laugh every day. Not picking paint swatches for the nursery. Not sitting across from my best friend in the world desperately trying to show her what doors forgiveness opens. I could have played it safe. I could have married some boring guy who let me call every shot. But what kind of life is that when there’s never any risk of getting hurt?”

  Frankie stared down at the table, wishing Pru’s words weren’t landing direct hit after direct hit. “Being in a relationship with Aiden was so hard,” she said lamely.

  “It’s not like you were doing yourself any favors there. You fought him every step of the way. You were just waiting for him to disappoint you, to give you the excuse you were looking for to leave.”

  “I was not,” Frankie argued.

  “Now you’re lying to yourself.”

  “All in,” Frankie whispered. Had she ever really been all in? She’d made the commitment, but had she really acted on it?

  “You’re the most loyal person I know, Frankie. Why can’t you be loyal to him? Why can’t you fight for him? Who does Aiden have in his corner that he can count on? Who has his back? You should have been out there attacking Margeaux. Instead, you holed up and hid yourself away.”

  Vinnie returned with a steaming pie. He dumped plates in front of them. “Enjoy, ladies.”

  Frankie stared at the swirl of sauce over bubbling cheese.

  “I love him so much it scares me,” she admitted, her voice low and shaky. She brought her gaze up. “I love him so much I can’t breathe because I feel like a piece of me is missing.”

  “You are so damn stubborn,” Pru said with a sliver of sympathy. “You’d ruin this just to be right.”

  The guilt in Frankie’s gut stood up and saluted in recognition.

  “My feelings for him terrify me. I’m living a nightmare. And it’s all too late. He stopped texting, stopped sending me things. It’s like I don’t even exist to him anymore.”

  Pru slid a slice onto her plate and reached for the oregano. “Then maybe it’s time you reminded him that you exist.”

  Chapter Sixty

  It took her an entire twenty-four hours to formulate a plan. And when she had it organized in her head, she started with Pru. Collecting names and numbers, making connections. She lunched with celebutantes, met with servers and maids and personal assistants in alleys by recycling bins, and pled her case.

  They didn’t all say yes, but enough did. And what they gave her would have to be enough to put it all into action.

  When the chips were down, when there was a real chance at karmic retribution, women banded together.

  She took everything they gave her and, pushing aside her now defunct thesis project notes, started a brand-new project.

  Every word that she typed, every piece of information she gathered, she fit into the larger puzzle making her feel more hopeful, more in control. And when she was finally certain she had enough, she made one more phone call.

  “Davenport, it’s me Frankie. Do you still have that video from Barbados?”

  * * *

  Frankie couldn’t sleep. She kept checking her phone to see if the gossip blogs had picked up the news yet. And when it finally landed on her newsfeed at seven, she danced a boogie in her kitchen.

  There, on screens across the city, Margeaux screamed obscenities and drunkenly brawled in the pool with Taffany. There were hundreds of comments with more pouring in every minute.

  Frankie danced over to the whiteboard she’d set up in her living room.

  Step One: Discredit Marge.

  She crossed it off with a flourish. And eyeballed step two. She was going to need some armor for this one.

  She plucked the gift card off the board and dialed.

  “Hi, I was wondering if Christian could squeeze me in today? I’m going to war.”

  An hour later, she was in a swiveling chair in front of a gilt framed mirror in a salon she couldn’t afford. Christian was frowning at her tresses as he shoved his fingers through them. “You were supposed to come back last month,” he chastised her.

  “I didn’t have to go into battle last month. Make me gorgeous and invincible.”

  Christian snapped his finger in the air. “Makeup!”

  She kept an eye on her bag next to Christian’s workstation as he and his minions set about endowing her with female weaponry. The smokey eye, contoured cheekbones, those gorgeous lowlights, and finally a blow out that made her look like she belonged in the red dress. If this didn’t crush her enemy like a bug and prove irresistible to Aiden, she was going to swing by the shelter and get her first two cats… and then ask Gio if she could move in with him since she could no longer afford rent with no job and no degree.

  Great. Really solid Plan B. But she was hoping that there’d be no need for it. She had a lot—everything—riding on Plan A.

  “Christian? Christian’s miracle workers?” she said, looking at the stranger in the mirror. “You guys are the shit.”

  She high-fived them down the line and handed over Aiden’s gift card. Christian shoved an appointment card at her. “See you in six weeks.”

  “I’ll be here,” she said decisively. Positive mental attitude. She would win. Or she’d be curled in the fetal position being eaten by cats.

  “Wish me luck!”

  “Good luck!” they chorused after her as she strode out the door and into battle.

  He was already there waiting for her at the bar. A double of something in front of him despite the fact that it was barely 11 in the morning.

  “Good morning, Elliot,” she said, sliding onto the stool next to him.

  The younger Kilbourn straightened in his seat, leering at her cleavage. “I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you again. What can I do for you? Help you get revenge on brother dearest?” He straightened his tie.

  “Oooh. I’m afraid you’re about to be very disappointed,” Frankie said, unpacking a file from her bag. She slid it across to him. “Here. This is for you.”

  With still too much confidence, Elliot flipped open the folder. It took a full four seconds for its contents to sink in. His eyes widened, pupils dilating. “What is this?” he demanded.

  “This is every dirty deed I could dig up on you over the past ten years. I don’t know what Boris Donaldson has on you, but I’m willing to bet it’s somewhere in this file.”

  “How do you know about Boris?” he asked, scrambling through the photos, the photocopies, and the interviews.

  “You pushed for him for CFO despite the fact that he’s currently under investigation for fraud and, as of about ten minutes ago, embezzlement.”

  “What?” He reached for his drink and drank it down.

  “Well, what kind of investigation would I be doing if I didn’t pry into my boyfriend’s enemies? You people will never understand that your underlings see and hear things that your dirty money can’t cover up. By the way, the SEC’s anonymous tip website is so easy to navigate. Now, let’s talk about you.”

  He was flipping through papers alternately going beet red and ashen.

  “You’ve been a very naughty boy. Using your expense account to pay for prescription drugs and lap dances. Side note, they’re not actually into you. Then there’s these sticky consent cases that you paid off. Anything other than a yes is a no, Elliot. All of that I almost expected from you. But what even I was surprised by was you bringing a male prostitute back to your then-girlfriend’s apartment and—”

  He slapped the bar. “She signed a non-disclosure agreement! I paid her!”

  “Oh, sweetie,” Frankie said, laying on the phony sympathy. “She signed a non-disclosure, but her doorman and housekeeper and personal chef didn’t.”

  He swore. “I’ll sue. I’ll sue you for defamation.”

  “Then Chip will press charges for abducting him. That’s a felony, by the way. And I don’t think your defense is going to be able t
o come up with any character witnesses for you. Not with all of this in your history,” she said, tapping the file.

  He picked up the file and ripped it in half.

  Frankie sighed. “Is this a temper tantrum? Because you know I have copies of copies of copies.”

  He braced his elbows on the bar and put his face in his hands. She didn’t feel the tiniest bit of guilt.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “I’m glad you asked. It’s very simple. I want you to leave Aiden alone. Permanently. You don’t have a blackmailer to pay off anymore. You’re welcome, by the way. So, you can have a fresh start. Step down from the company, stop acting like a fuck-up, and don’t so much as glance in Aiden’s direction except for the occasional uncomfortable family dinner. Got it?”

  “If I do what you want, what will you do with this?” he asked, pointing at the shredded paper.

  “I’m going to hang on to it, very quietly. But if you step a fucking toe out of line if you take advantage of one more woman or buy one more bottle of pills, I’ll know. And I’ll go to every gossip blogger and society journalist in the country with this dirty little packet. Imagine what your mother would think. Or worse, your father. You’re at my mercy. And with the SEC taking out your blackmail buddy, you basically won the lottery today. Don’t fuck it up.”

  She slid off her stool and straightened her dress.

  “Do we have a deal?” she asked.

  He nodded glumly.

  “Good. Now, there’s just one more thing.” She picked up his drink and tossed it in his face. “That’s for every one of these women. Be better from now on.”

  Chapter Sixty-One

  “Your one o’clock is here,” Oscar announced, poking his head in Aiden’s office doorway.

  “My what?” Aiden looked at his open calendar on his monitor. Who the hell was he supposed to—

  She walked in wearing the red dress that haunted his dreams.

  Aiden wasn’t even aware that he’d risen from his desk so suddenly that his chair went spinning behind him.