“My reputation precedes me.” Dad grinned. “Should I be worried?”
Kendall nudged Dad. “Depends on which rumors she heard.” She turned her grin on Eva. “Nice to meet you.”
Dad laughed and Kendall snaked a hand through his arm. “Ms. Chase, is it?” Dad asked. “You don’t mind if we steal my boy for a while, do you?”
Eva’s gaze brushed over me like she was unsure why he was even asking her. I knew why. He was trying to whisk us away from Eva and leave her be instead of giving Grams a chance to set her up to marry me.
Grams charging in here to scout out the newest candidate might scare Eva away. The whole plan might seem too outlandish after being faced with Grams, and Eva could decide the drama wasn’t worth it. It was why I’d been letting her get to know me.
As if she’d do it for me instead of her cut of the hundred million.
“Not at all, Mr. King,” Eva said to Dad. “Enjoy your lunch.”
“Oh, you’re more than welcome to join us.” Grams leaned over the desk. “Beck won’t mind.”
“Thank you for the offer, but I have plenty of work to do.” She reverted to her polite self like she had around Rick, the airplane crew, and Dr. Herrera. She was a watcher, used to being dismissed as the help, like I was about to do. Thanks a lot, Grams.
Grams wasn’t done with her matchmaking though. “Really, it’s no—”
“Order whatever you like delivered, Eva.” I gave Grams a hard look. I should’ve just called her and told her that my trust was secure and not to worry. But it wasn’t, and I wanted more time with Eva. More time to get her comfortable with the idea. “Tell them to bill me. Any place nearby should know the drill. Block out my afternoon for a meeting.”
“Yes, Mr. King,” she answered.
“Still just Beck.” I smiled. “Mr. King is on the other side of the desk.” I hated leaving her behind, but I walked out with Grams, Dad, and Kendall.
Grams waited until we were settled at a nearby cafe before she started in. “I see you’ve hired your own choice.” She studied the menu, her face tight. “Not at all what I assumed you like.”
“Eva’s competent.”
“Mm. Have you asked her out yet?”
“She just started working for me this week.”
Grams’s silver brow ticked up. “But you want to ask her out?”
“Yes.” I could say I answered so quickly for Dad’s benefit, but there was no one else I wanted to ask out. Besides, it’d get Grams to lay off.
She drew back and I took pleasure in catching her off guard. “Then do it, and quickly.”
“Emilia—”
Grams jabbed her index finger into the tabletop. “The Cartwrights have always been after our money, blaming us for every bad thing that ever happened to them because of their laziness and stupidity, including that drunk of a son. They will not get a dime because Sarah was too naïve and nostalgic.”
“And I’ve said that I agree with you,” Dad argued. Kendall’s gaze darted back and forth between Dad and Grams. The way her arm was angled under the booth, she was probably white knuckling his hand. “But I don’t want my sons to sacrifice—”
“It’s for a year, Gentry,” Grams hissed, leaning over the table, her hazel eyes flashing steel. “And a hundred million dollars. Or at least fifty, but if a nice girl like Kate can walk away richer than ninety-nine percent of the world’s population, who loses?”
Well, the Cartwrights. That was the point.
Grams hitched her shoulder as if to block onlookers from seeing us. “But if Beck doesn’t give up a little over a year of his life, then Danny Cartwright will use that money to make all of our lives a living hell. He’ll snatch up land, he’ll bribe, he’ll interfere.”
Dad scoffed. “Danny’s not smart enough for any of that. He’ll drink himself into the ground.”
Grams narrowed her eyes until they were slits. “Are you willing to bet your job on it?” She pointed her finger at Kendall. “Or better yet, hers?”
So Grams wouldn’t just leverage Dad’s position, but Kendall’s too? God, she’d probably agreed to hiring Kendall for the sole purpose of using her to get Dad to do what she wanted.
Grams sat back. “Anyway, there’s his daughter. That’s a girl with a brain in her head, as long as she can stay away from the vices. I’d like her if she weren’t a Cartwright.”
I’d seen firsthand how much Bristol despised us, but I expected no less. She’d grown up hearing the stories about how my grandparents had scammed hers out of oil rights and then built an empire from it. I’d be interested to know if she’d heard how her grandparents had used their own scam to steal land from Dad’s parents.
Dad’s expression shuttered and he reclined back. Kendall’s worried gaze flicked up at him. His gaze filled with resolve. “This argument always turns out the same, Emilia, and I’ll still support whatever Beck decides.”
Gratitude welled within me, but then I looked closer at Dad. His shoulders hung like he carried the weight of ten thousand oil barrels and Grams had just heaped on a few more. His eyes were pinched, and even more worrisome, he looked his age.
I’d already made my decision, but I needed to make sure now more than ever that it played out like I wanted it to. “I have time, Grams. Don’t worry.”
The intensity she’d aimed at Dad rounded on me. She considered me for a moment and I raised a brow in the cockiest way I could manage. “Fine. No more talk of it. Let’s enjoy lunch.”
Lunch was tense and it turned out there wasn’t much to talk about if it wasn’t about my trust. I ordered an appetizer so my food would arrive faster. Excusing myself once I was done, I left.
Walking back to the office, I couldn’t escape the feeling that I should’ve handled lunch better. I should’ve stepped in for Dad. He had two more sons to get through Grams and the trust business after me. Dawson and Xander and I didn’t cross paths too often, but as of Dad’s wedding, they’d both been inexorably and happily single.
Naïve and nostalgic. I had been young when Mama was killed, but she was still Gram’s kid. She’d had a reason for setting up the trust that had nothing to do with fond memories. Whatever they were, if I didn’t hold such a heavy grudge toward them, I’d deliver the check myself.
But they were the reason Mama was dead, so I needed to finish this fiancée business.
Eva’s brows lifted as I walked in, a sandwich in her hand. She chewed, swallowed, and set it down. My mind was riffling through the restaurants that would’ve delivered such a plain-ass sandwich when she asked, “Everything all right?”
I slumped on the edge of her desk, nearly bumping the printer off with my butt. “Just Grams doing what Grams does.” Was that bologna? Her sandwich sat on a clear plastic baggie. Another baggie with carrot and celery sticks rested next to it. “You packed your lunch?”
She nodded and opened the veggie bag. She held it out. “I didn’t want to be presumptuous that you would buy me lunch every day.”
I snagged a celery stick. “We go and talk shop and write it off. No big deal.” The fresh crunch of the celery was strangely satisfying. My five jumbo Sriracha shrimp weren’t as filling as I’d hoped. “Wanna go out tonight?”
Eva was about to pick up her sandwich, but she left it there. “Another meeting?”
“No. To decide if we’re getting engaged or not.” I pointed out the door. “You know how Dad met Kendall? Grams hired her to work for me. I nearly hated Dad for a while, but then he met Kendall. I didn’t trust her at first, but then… I saw how they were together.” I wanted that. Would I be the one making the sacrifice for the money? “Now she works for King Oil and Grams is threatening both of them.”
Surprise flickered in her eyes. “That’s hard-core villain stuff.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Like all villains, she thinks she’s right. I dunno. Maybe she is. It’s hard to say when I don’t have all the facts.”
“Why’d you hate your dad?”
After the lunc
h I’d had, I wasn’t ready for the heavy topic. I never talked about what Dad had been like unless it was me bitching with my brothers. I found myself telling Eva anyway. “After Mama died, he grieved, then set about sleeping with every woman in town. He’d leave for long weekends, or weeklong ski trips—in the Alps—with a near stranger and miss homecomings, football games, and parent-teacher conferences. As an adult, as long as I was making my own money, he was never interested in my job.”
“And Grams?”
The corner of my mouth lifted. She’d said “Grams” and not “Mrs. Boyd.” “You can probably guess after meeting her what she was like growing up. She’d call and check in, but now I wonder if it wasn’t because she was monitoring my marriage prospects.”
“I’m sorry.” The words were simple, but sincere. My exes wanted me to pour my soul out, but I never spoke about my family. With Eva, I was brutally honest and she was matter-of-fact.
“Thank you, but I guess that brings us to the engagement.”
“No marriage?” She wore a small smile, but her eyes were shrewd.
“Like most marriages, it would depend on how well the engagement goes.”
“We’d still need to get our stories straight.” She pulled out the other half of her bologna sandwich and offered it to me. I accepted it and took a bite. I’d grown up with money, but Dad and Mama had made us work and live like a normal family, which included T-ball and school plays. Sometimes that meant bologna and white bread sandwiches for supper. I’d forgotten how good they tasted.
She was blank faced, perhaps studying my reaction to her food, but she said, “But I can’t meet tonight. Maybe tomorrow?”
Tomorrow was Friday. It’d be like a real date night, but I didn’t want to take her to a noisy club or an expensive restaurant that we couldn’t relax and talk in. “You can come over to my place.”
She paused midchew, her gaze turning wary.
I waited for her to finish her mouthful, my gut churning that she was going to turn me down. Negotiating a marriage sucked.
“Since I don’t drive, and I don’t want to be dependent on Rick for a date, can we meet somewhere?”
I shrugged. “I can pick you up.”
“No.” By now her refusal shouldn’t surprise me, but the vehemence was unexpected. “I… If this doesn’t, you know, work out, I’d like to keep my home life separate.”
“You mean you’d still work here if we decided not to get married?”
“Yes?” She worried her lower lip between her even teeth and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. “Would I get fired if I didn’t marry you?”
“Of course not.” I should’ve made that clear up front. “Would you be comfortable staying here while I hunted for a future fiancée?”
Her eyes narrowed and my pride grew. She didn’t like that thought. “I kind of like the work.” She sighed and stared at the remnants of her sandwich. “Fine. Rick can pick me up at seven.”
“Pack an overnight bag.” She blanched and I chuckled as I pushed off the desk. “Just kidding. If it’s seven, why don’t you just ride home with me? I’ll have some food delivered and we’ll talk—outside of the work environment.”
“Just don’t call Silver Eats Catering.” At my questioning look, she explained, “The caterer I used to work for. It’d be weird.”
“Don’t want them to see you with a personal life?”
“Don’t want them to think I’m a haughty bitch. I might need that job back.”
Not if I could help it.
Chapter 9
Eva
I wrung my hands together and stood in the hallway. Adam was playing Xbox, no big surprise. I’d just gotten home from work, reeling from my conversation with Beck about my date tomorrow night. Meeting his family had made it clear this was about more than me and Beck, and he had a lot more people surrounding him.
I had to tell Adam.
He might seem checked out on the world, but he still worried about me—occasionally. The shopping spree, a car picking me up for work, and the late nights would make him ask questions.
I entered the living room, standing off to the side. “Adam, can I talk to you about something?”
“Sure.” His fingers maneuvered controls and his gaze didn’t leave the TV.
“Can you pause the game?” I knew better than to ask him to stop.
“Just a minute.” He must’ve sensed the seriousness because he actually put the controller down after he got to a stopping point. “Shoot.”
His eyes were bloodshot and his shirt hung off his lanky frame. How much more weight did he have to lose?
“You know my new job?” He nodded. I sucked in a deep breath. “I haven’t been completely honest about why I accepted it, or who it’s with.”
Adam scrubbed his face and sat forward. “Everything okay?”
Moments like these made the guilt almost unbearable. Adam was withering away in his own pain. He’d given up college for me. He’d lost a major buyer because of me. And yet he was still willing to peek out of his depressive hole to check on me. I was a shitty sister and I needed to make it all better.
“So… I was downtown the other day and happened to run into Beckett King.”
The first major emotion I’d seen in months flashed through his eyes. Actual anger. “Did he do something to you?”
“No. He offered me a job.” The story spilled out of me. How I’d gone looking for a way to get revenge and how the target had dumped himself in my lap. It all sounded so idealistic and naïve.
But telling the story made me wonder why I’d want to be responsible for hurting anyone. I was only aiming to harm his professional reputation, but that was what had happened to Adam. Would I really be okay if that happened to someone else? Because of me?
Adam stared at me, horror in his gaze. “You’re not whoring yourself out to that bastard.”
“I don’t think he expects me to do, like, wifely things with him.” My face burned. Any wifely tasks with Beckett wouldn’t be a hardship either. “Just play the role, get the money, and go away. But it’ll give me time to find out how we can publicly humiliate him like he did to you.”
Adam snorted. “It wasn’t public. It was all very polite and hush-hush. All prospective buyers just backed the hell out and blocked me like malware. Eva.” He shook his head. “You can’t do this. His family is rich and they can crush us.”
“Look around, Adam. There’s nothing to crush.” Adam’s gaze swept our shabby apartment with its bare walls and water-stained ceiling. “He’s paying me a shitload for the next four months. Worst case, I decide not to do the fake fiancée gig and don’t get married, and I don’t find a damn thing on him. At the least we’ve paid our rent for the next year. Best case, he has a skeleton that the entire tech industry will spurn him for and he’ll be the one no one wants to associate with. Or even better case… I stay married to him for a year, divorce him, and walk away with fifty million. I wouldn’t find better odds in a casino.”
Adam didn’t look convinced. “He’s hot, Eva. And loaded. I know you’re not usually that type of girl, but these guys don’t rise to the top because people can’t stand them. These kinds of people aren’t the type to hand over millions to someone they just met, even after they’ve spent four hundred and ninety days together. What if you fall for him?”
He was attractive. I couldn’t deny that. But it’d never happen. If I didn’t hate him after our year was up, then that would be an improvement. “I know better than that.”
Adam was quiet for a while, his thoughtful stare on the TV screen. He wasn’t losing interest, but he also wasn’t losing his temper. “Do you think he’s done anything that would hurt his career?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.” I crossed my arms against a sudden chill. It was getting colder out and I could turn the heat up. We could afford it now. Adam hadn’t noticed the temperature change. He was numb. “But he’s willing to fake a marriage to get some trust fund that’d go to the neighbors he hates.
A guy who would do that has to have some skeletons.” I hoped.
“You think you could hide your relationship to me and marry this guy?”
“For fifty million, I’ll find a way.”
Adam let out a slow exhale. “So he pulled out on a deal just because that lady’s son was in recovery?”
Nausea cramped my belly. It was an identical situation. “Yep.”
“That’s harsh.”
“Yep.”
His gaze swept down my new outfit, then back around the crappy apartment. A decision was being made and I couldn’t guess what it was until he said, “Do you at least feel safe around him?”
That was the old Adam, worrying about me first. “Yes. And if he’s a squeaky-clean choirboy, then I’ll have made enough to cover bills while I look for a better job. Surely I can rack up some skills that another CEO looking for a fake wife would need.”
Adam’s smile was faint, an echo of past Adam. “Be careful, Eva. I don’t like it. I know our finances are tight, but the money isn’t worth it. And the revenge thing? I mean, whatever. I’m over it. Don’t go exposing yourself to harm because of me.”
“I’m worried about you,” I blurted.
He blinked. “I’m worried about me too.”
“Do you need to see a doctor or something?” Please.
“Nah. I keep skimming the help wanted ads. The right job will turn up soon.”
The right job that would hire him with a record and serious lack of job history.
But at least I’d made progress. I wouldn’t have to sneak around and rush out the door before he saw Rick pull up. He’d accepted what I was planning, but he was stuck in his status quo and wouldn’t lift a finger to help.
I made my way back to my room. The dishes and laundry could wait for the weekend. A shower, then bed. For some reason I didn’t want to look into, I looked forward to tomorrow.
“That place is huge.” Gaping out the window, I compared my apartment complex to Beckett’s mansion. I think his was larger.
“You make it sound intimidating.” Beckett drove around the back. He’d taken his own car today, a Mercedes, to save me from facing Rick while I went home with Beckett on a Friday night.
King's Ransom (Oil Kings Book 2) Page 7
