“Yes, I’m very sorry for that. I’ve never hit anyone in my life before. I was in shock and I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“But you did find great satisfaction in it, didn’t you?” she asks, a strange speculative expression in her eyes.
“No, of course not. Like I said, I wasn’t thinking.”
“Well, I don’t accept your apology for two reasons. One, you’re not really sorry and two… sorry is just a word. So if you are truly sorry, you would allow me to slap you back.”
My eyes widen in astonishment. This woman is something else. I’d slapped her in a moment when I was distressed and shocked. Led by a mad instinct to stop her from uttering another insult at my dead father, I did in fact slap her, then now she just wants to slap me in the cold light of day to take revenge. Every cell in my body wants me to turn around and walk back out of her door, but the thought of asking Zachary Black to marry me is far worse than enduring a slap from Victoria. I swallow hard. “All right. You can slap me back.”
As if her dog understands her animosity, it bares its teeth at me.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” she coos to her pet. She gets to her feet and drawing herself up to her full height; it’s not that impressive, but given the spiky four-inch heels she’s wearing, she towers over me.
I watch her walk towards me, her movements sure, her eyes glittering with unholy excitement at the thought of taking revenge, of hurting me.
She stops two feet in front of me and smiles, a smug horrible smile. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
Her hand swings back and flies in an arc towards my face. The sound of her hand connecting with my cheek startles me. My head snaps to the side, but I jerk it back in her direction instantly. My cheek burns like it is on fire, but I do not touch it. “Are we even now?” I ask, even as my eyes sting with tears that I blink back.
She will not have the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
“Yes,” she breathes the answer out heavily.
I lift my chin and we stare at each other.
She smiles slowly. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a very, very long time.” Then she walks away from me. Sitting down next to her dog again, she massages the palm she used to slap me with. “So what are you here for?” As if she didn’t know.
“I came here to ask you to sell the house to me and Lori.”
She puts on a totally fake expression of confusion. Like a cat playing with a mouse, she plans to draw out my humiliation. “But I was given to understand you won’t be able to touch your inheritance until you are twenty-one. What were you planning to buy the house with? Tears?”
"We’ll...Lori and I will hand over the stocks for the business. I’ve spoken to the accountant, it is worth twice what the house is."
"I don’t think so," she replies coolly, stroking her little dog.
I have to fight the urge to push her right off her chair. She looks so smug. She doesn’t even want that house, but she is enjoying the leverage it gives her over the two of us. Did Dad really think that she would be better for Wotton Hall than either of his daughters? I wish I could speak to him one last time. Ask him what the hell he had been thinking, making sure that none of us got anything we wanted? We only buried my father a few days before, and I am already feeling angry at him. And guilty, for feeling angry at him.
"Victoria, please, I’m begging you," I continue, trying to keep my voice steady and knowing that I’m doing a bad job at it. "Just think of what you are saying. The stocks are worth almost double what the house is worth. Please. This house belonged to my mother’s family. My father had no right to give it to you. He was only holding it for me. Please. You don’t want it. Just sell it to us."
“Who’d have thought? I never thought I’d see the day! The high and mighty Princess groveling at my feet.”
“Yes, I am begging. Please don’t let that house go to anyone else. Do it for my father’s sake.”
“I guess I could do it for Simon’s sake.” She sighs. “But I really don’t want to wait until you are twenty-one to collect my inheritance.”
There is something sly in her eyes, but I ignore it and clutch at the hope I see her holding out. “Look, I think I could use my stocks as collateral and borrow the money from one of Mom’s old friends. I know she would give it to me.”
She looks at me curiously. “Someone would lend you that much money?”
“Yes, yes, I could get the money for you. Just think, you wouldn’t have to pay any Estate Agent’s fee or have to put up with any kind of delay. I can arrange for you to have the money straight-away.”
She looks at me as if she is seriously considering the idea. “Really?”
“Yes, I could,” I cry eagerly.
“Hmmm…it is an idea, but before I commit to it, can you tell me what MA stands for?”
All my enthusiasm comes crashing to a halt. “What?”
“MA,” she repeats politely. “You know, you and your sister used to refer to me as MA. I just want to know what it stands for.”
I clear my throat. “It’s just a little thing between us. We…umm…like to give everyone little pet names. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just for fun.”
She smiles. It’s a good smile. It’s the one she wore on her wedding day to my father. If you didn’t know better, you could never tell it was completely fake. “So what does it stand for then, this fun name your sister and you have given me?”
It is at that moment that I think I recognize I have been taken down the garden path. Even if I had the money in cash right then and there, she would not have allowed us to buy Mom’s house, just out of pure spite. But that determined part of me couldn’t stop. Even if there was a one percent chance she could be persuaded to sell Mom’s house to me I had to stay and try for it. “MA stands for Marie Antoinette.”
“Marie Antoinette?” She frowns. “The name is familiar, but I can’t put my finger it on it. Remind me.”
“She was the last Queen of France,” I say quietly.
The frown clears. “Wasn’t she the one who was beheaded?”
“Yes, but we only called you that because you like luxury.” I sweep my hand around at the lavish gold and gilt furnishing she has surrounded herself with.
“You think I’m so stupid, don’t you? You and that brat thinking you are better than me. Well, looks like the roles have reversed, eh? I’m the one with the big prize and you’re the one with nothing.”
“You’re a smart woman, Victoria. Why would you cut your nose off to spite your face? Selling to me would mean you would get double the value of the house.” I hate that note of desperation that has crept into my voice.
She smiles sweetly at me. “Like you said, I’m a smart woman. I didn’t sit on my hands waiting for your father to kick the bucket. I went out and found me another man to take care of me. So I’m not desperate for cash. In fact, I’d rather burn that godforsaken house to the ground than let you have it.”
I realize almost too late that there is no point hanging around a second longer. She isn’t going to let me have the house. She hates me that much. I turn on my heel and march to the door, but I’m not beat yet. I still have one nuclear option left.
Chapter 5
Scarlett
And that’s how I find myself an hour later walking up to Zachary Black’s secretary, while trying to gather up the courage to ask to see him without an appointment. She is already eyeing me even from afar with impatience and contempt. She’s probably wondering what business someone like me has with the great Zachary. Or maybe she thinks I’m one of his more hopeless hook-ups, back around because I don’t know how to take no for an answer.
If only she knew.
A name tag announces her as Dahlia Dewbury. "Can I help you?” she asks as I approach her desk, but her frosty voice makes it clear that she believes there is absolutely nothing she can do for me other than send me away.
"Hello," I greet, stretching my mouth into a friendly smile. "My name is Scarlett Johns
on and I’d like to see Mr. Black. I won’t take long I just need to talk to him about some of the holdings he has in my father’s company, Johnson Sparrow."
Those words and the name of my father’s company had been enough for the receptionist on the ground floor to instantly give me access to the elevators, but Dahlia turns out to be a harder nut to crack. Her expression remains unchanged and unimpressed. "Do you have an appointment with him?” she asks.
I shake my head. "No, but this is very important.”
“I’m sure it is, but he’s in a meeting right now.”
"Tell him that it’s Scarlett Johnson. Tell him I need to speak to him about my father’s business."
"Like I said he’s in a meeting," she tells me firmly, “but if you want to leave a name and number, I’ll see if I can set up something tomorrow or—"
"No,” I interrupt, putting my palms on her desk and leaning forward. “I can’t wait until tomorrow. I need to see him now.” I feel guilty for acting like a spoilt brat, but I honestly don’t believe her that he cannot be interrupted, and I know if I walk out of here, I’m not going to have the nerve to follow up on this. If not for the adrenaline still rushing through my veins from my meeting with Victoria I might never even have plucked up the courage to do this. Something about Zachary Black makes the hairs at the back of my neck stand and confuses me.
"For the last time,” she said, her voice cold and unyielding, “Mr. Black is in a meeting and after that he is straight onto another one so there is zero chance you will be able to see him today.
"I need to see him," I cry in desperation. There is so much at stake for me. "You don’t understand. This is important. This is so important—"
"Yes, I’m sure it is a matter of life and death, but he’s in a meeting and can’t be disturbed." There is undisguised sarcasm in her voice. She gets to her feet. "So I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Miss. Johnson. Otherwise, I’ll have no option but call security to escort you out."
Before she can say another word, I straighten and run past her and down the corridor towards a large executive looking door that has to be his office. I know that I am acting crazy. That I could land myself in a whole heap of trouble for this, but I can’t walk away now. He’s right through that door, and I’m not going to leave here without speaking to him.
"Hey! Excuse me! Excuse me!" Dahlia calls after me, but I ignore her and keep heading for the large door. I decide that I’ve already forgone the formality of knocking. Taking a deep breath, I just open and push the heavy door in.
And there he is… dressed in an impeccable suit. Looking like a billion dollars.
His dark head swivels around at first in irritation, then his eyebrow cocks up in astonishment. The man opposite him seems confused by my interruption, but I stand my ground.
"I need to speak to you," I say quickly. "Urgently."
For a couple of seconds he does nothing, just stares at me as if I had two horns on my head, then he turns to the man. "Could you give us a minute, Harvey?”
Immediately, the man gets to his feet and starts heading towards the door. I move to let him pass, his eyes are on me and full of avid curiosity. Exhaling the breath I’d been holding, I level my gaze at Zachary Black, and feel the thing that happens every time I’ve met him at the industry parties my father used to take me to: little feather-light tendrils of desire snaking across my skin, making me shiver. I try to ignore the confusing reaction my body has to him. Why he makes me feel that way is a mystery. I hate men like him. It is galling, especially since I know he has no such reaction to me. He’s always got a different woman on his arm, and he always looks at me like a little girl who should be sitting at the kids’ table.
I watch his eyes run down my body. Then he stands and starts walking towards me. As he gets closer, my stomach tightens crazily. His aftershave hits my nostrils and I think I am going to faint.
I must be stone-cold crazy to do this, he is almost certainly going to refuse me. He’s probably going to laugh in my face and tell me to try someone who is actually interested, but I have to try. He is my last hope of keeping Wotton Hall. I will never forgive myself if I don’t at least give it a try. It might seem crazy – it might be crazy – but I have to try.
Chapter 6
Zach
"You care to tell me what you’re doing barging in on my meeting with no explanation?” I ask, pushing the door shut behind Harvey, my agent for Asia. We had just barely finished our meeting when she shows up. He flew in last night for the express purpose of meeting me today and updating me on an issue so sensitive, it could not be discussed on any electronic communication. He also has a flight out in five hours, so I should have just booted her out and told her to come back later, but…
This is Scarlett Johnson.
She’d just turned eighteen when I first met her. I’d been invited to a huge company affair her father threw, and it was the first one she’d been allowed to attend. She was all wide-eyed and as wobbly as a day-old antelope in her tall heels. When her small soft hand slipped into mine, I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut. I tried to hide it, but her father was a wily old fox. He escorted her off before we could get beyond hello. Not that I blamed him. With the kind of reputation I had with women, I’d have done the same if she were my daughter.
Women don’t tend to stick in my head too well. That’s what happens when you’ve been through so many of them, I guess. Nobody stands out when you’re going through them as random hook-ups that could fit into my tight schedule. But for some inexplicable reason, Scarlett remains unforgettable. Sometimes I still remember her hand in mine. Her eyes so enormous and innocent I wanted to punch out the lights of any man who looked at her.
After that time, I stayed well clear of her whenever we ended up at the same social events. It’s for the best. I knew she is the kind of girl who spells trouble. Big trouble. And quite simply, I didn’t trust myself around her. Around her, I became a primitive stranger who wanted to throw her over my shoulders, and take her straight to my bedroom, then throw away the key.
Staying clear didn’t solve the problem though. Every time I saw her, I swear she got that bit more delectable. Those curves, the mile-long legs, the shining long, blonde hair, and those chocolate brown eyes that told a different story than the rest of her face.
I lean against the door and look at her. Since our first meeting, this is the closest I’ve been to her. Her left cheek is red and swollen and her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail, as it swings angrily with every gesture she makes. The last thing I expected is to find her standing in my office glaring up at me like I’d done something wrong.
"You want to sit down?” I ask, pointing at the chair Harvey had just vacated.
She huffs to herself, and then does as she’s told.
I start to walk towards my chair.
The door behind me opens, and Dahlia sticks her head around it. She glares at Scarlett then turns her attention to me.
"Security has been called, Sir," she tells me.
I shake my head and wave my hand. "Tell them that they’re not going to be needed.”
She frowns. "Are you sure?”
"Yes, I’m sure.”
She lingers for a moment longer in the doorway before she ducks away again, pulling the door shut behind her.
I sit down and turn my attention back to the woman before me. She looks exhausted, as though she hasn’t slept properly in days. It has only been a few days since her father passed. She’s probably still dealing with everything that comes with that.
With Dahlia gone, Scarlett turns her attention back to me. Her eyes are wide. "I just found out that you have a stake in my father’s company," she explains quickly. "And I need to use it for something."
"Okay, hold up.” I lift my hand to stop her in her tracks. "You just found out about this? Your father didn’t tell you about it?”
She shakes her head. "No, and that’s the weird part, because he let me and my sister in on the business
so much, my sister banned him from talking business to her when she was seven years old.”
“Right,” I say softy.
“Anyway, during the reading of the will, our family solicitor told me that you have a stake in the house and surrounding land and woods as part of your deal. Is that right? Does that still stand?"
I fall silent for a moment. I hadn’t so much as thought about what I owned in Simon’s company for years. It was so long ago that I bailed him out and since then, he had compensated me for it handsomely I’ve never thought much about the deal other than the yearly profit my accountants file away. I had no interest in anything like that, but if she were talking wills and solicitors, it would seem my shares have picked up some power.
“Yes, I believe it is something like that. I never looked very deeply into it, but it is not a straightforward ownership. For some reason, your father insisted on writing it into the deal as some kind security, but it isn’t as if I could sell it if I wanted to.”
She nods quickly, distractedly, which tells me she needs me for something.
"What’s going on?" I ask.
She stands and begins to pace. "My father left the house and the land to our stepmother.” She spits the words out like she can’t bear saying them. "And she wants to sell it, but not to us.
I stare at her astonished. Why on earth would Simon do that? I’ve met her stepmother and she doesn’t even pretend she's not an out and out gold digger. In fact, the last time I met him, he hinted at his regrets in marrying her.
“So,” Scarlett continues, “my sister and I will lose our inheritance unless...well, unless I can get the rights to that deal that you made with my father."
I lean back against the chair. "What are you offering in exchange for that?”
Let’s Pretend Page 2
