Mr. Misunderstood

by Sara Jane Stone

  “Okay,” Kayla says as if it is truly that simple.

  I stop pacing and turn to look at my best friend. Yesterday, she asked the same question Margaret just posed—why? Kayla wanted me to tear off the armor I’ve built as if it didn’t take years to piecemeal my confidence—hell, to put my will to live back together. Now she’s on my side.

  Thank God.

  The relief hits me like a tidal wave, and I take a step back. I need my best friend on my side.

  “Gavin, it’s a horrible, awful story, but it was not your fault,” Margaret protests. “You were the victim.”

  “He’s not anymore,” Kayla says firmly. She glances at me and then turns back to Margaret. “Look, I don’t know how long Alexandra has been holding onto these pictures or where she even found them. I can’t imagine how anyone would have a record of those moments. We went to high school before every student carried a phone, and long before the age of iPhones.”

  New York’s leading PR guru nods. “I wondered that as well.”

  “But doesn’t it seem strange that Alexandra waits until after Gavin breaks up with her to deliver this threat?” Kayla keeps her gaze fixed on Margaret. “And after he proposed to me?”

  “Did Gavin share the happy news with his ex?” Margaret speaks directly to my fake fiancée.

  “No. It’s none of her business,” I say.

  “We’ve been engaged for less than forty-eight hours, and my entire town knows,” Kayla points out. She gestures to me. “He’s Gavin Black. Everyone wants to know whom he’s dating, where he’s eating, what product he’s working on. I suspect Alexandra found out he’s engaged, and took it as a pretty clear sign they are not getting back together. Then she went searching for blackmail material. Alexandra happened to hit the jackpot. But I wouldn’t be surprised if a dozen of Gavin’s ex-girlfriends come forward with crazy claims now that he’s off the market.”

  Margaret raises both eyebrows and glances from Kayla to the pictures. Before my publicist ponders Alexandra’s ability to find compromising photographs in a matter of hours, I return to Kayla’s side, sink into the couch, and take her hand.

  “Gavin, I believe you should rethink your denial. We can get in front of this before she releases the photograph to the press or shares them online,” Margaret says. “No one will think less of you for surviving a horrible situation.”

  “No.” I don’t give a damn how she plans to spin the story. “I don’t want pity. I don’t want anyone outside this room knowing I was ever that kid. We’re not telling anyone the truth. I control my public image. And shit, Margaret, I pay you a small fortune to help. So find a way that won’t paint me as a victim.”

  “We could deny the photos are of Gavin,” Kayla volunteers. “Show the world that Alexandra is nothing more than a vengeful ex-girlfriend.”

  I want to kiss her again for drawing Margaret into our plan. Instead, I turn to my publicist. “It’s not a bad idea. Will it work?”

  “Yes.” Margaret looks at the images. “But it won’t erase your past, Gavin. Just keep it hidden for another day.”

  “Please,” Kayla pleads. “We want to enjoy being engaged. I’ve known Gavin forever. But this—” She raises our entwined hands to her lips and kisses my fingers. “This is new and special—”

  “We should go,” I cut in before Margaret realizes she is being spoon fed a scam. I stand and draw Kayla up with me. “Our dinner is probably cold by now.”

  Margaret collects the photographs and returns them to the folder. Then she turns to lead us out of her glass-walled office. “I will be in touch when the images appear online. We will handle the response.”

  “Thank you,” I say curtly. I poured my soul onto her office rug. Now, I need to get the hell out of here.

  “I can also hire a private investigator to look into Alexandra’s background,” Margaret offers.

  I’ve thought about employing a PI ever since my ex showed me the first picture. But I don’t want a hired investigator delving into my past either. The less people who dig, the more likely it will stay buried.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” I say. “But I will let you know if I change my mind.”

  “Please do. I have someone I trust to keep the focus on your blackmailer.”

  Kayla glances at me, but I shake my head.

  “Not yet,” I insist.

  Margaret pauses in front of the elevator bay and offers a gentle smile. “I’m glad you’ve finally found some happiness, Gavin. You deserve it.”

  The elevator doors open, saving me from finding an appropriate response. I give Margaret a curt nod and follow Kayla inside.

  This isn’t happiness, I think. I’m on edge and trying to stay one step ahead of the woman threatening to tear apart my carefully crafted image.

  Kayla releases my hand and glances at her phone. “When we get back to your place, ‘happiness’ will look like a nighttime walk with four dogs.”

  “Is that what makes this relationship so new and special?” I ask dryly.

  “Yes.” My supposed fiancée leads the way out of the elevator. “And the lack of sex.”

  I laugh. I can’t help myself. The blackmail is following me around like a tornado waiting to spiral out of control and I’m fucking laughing.

  And so damn grateful Kayla’s by my side.

  She pushes through the door and heads to the black sedan parked on the curb. My gaze follows her, but I don’t move.

  “Kayla,” I call after her. She can’t hear me. And that’s probably a damn good thing because I’m not sure what I would say next. A simple thanks for having my back doesn’t come close to conveying the magnitude of what she’s doing for me.

  She’s putting herself in a world that destroyed her once. She’s sidelining her freedom, conforming to the rules of the public image game I’m so damn desperate to play and win. And she’s doing it all so that I won’t fall apart. If I am forced to admit I was the scared kid in those pictures, I will crumble. I just fucking know it in my gut.

  But that won’t happen because I have this beautiful, smart, funny woman rushing to my defense.

  “Kayla,” I murmur, “You’re the best fucking friend on the planet. I won’t let anything change that.”

  Her fitted skirt rides up her thighs as she slides into the backseat of the town car. And yeah, I stare a little too long at her thighs while my driver holds the rear door open, waiting for me.

  Anything I remind myself as I cross the empty sidewalk and join her in the backseat.

  CHAPTER 10

  GAVIN

  “You’re doing what?” Zack Smith lowers his boxing gloves and I land a hit to his jaw.

  “Don’t make this easy,” I say. “I need a decent workout this morning.”

  I’m telling my sparring partner the truth. Last night, Kayla and I talked about our plans for today, her undying love for the chef of the Korean restaurant, and whether Luna needs a follow-up with a vet in Manhattan. We walked the dogs together. And we dragged the proverbial elephant in the room along for the trip—seeing evidence that my horrible past existed and could resurface.

  Looking at those pictures, I felt like that kid again. The old doubts crept in, following me through Central Park, and after our walk, back to my penthouse bedroom. Why drag Kayla through this scheme? Why not send her back to the country? Was I really worth the effort?

  Yes.

  I needed to believe it, or everything I’d built would crumble like a house of cards. And I’m not talking about my company. That wouldn’t fall to pieces if I told the truth about my wretched childhood. But the world wouldn’t look at me the same. Worse still, I might not see myself in the same light.

  Right now, beating my doubts into submission seemed like the best path forward.

  Zack rests his arms on the ropes enclosing the gym’s boxing ring. Damn him, I can’t land a hit when he’s taken himself out of the game. We meet in the gym located in our building’s lower levels and try to beat the shit out of ea
ch other every weekday morning. I’m religious about my workout routine. And Zack Smith, the only other billionaire that I know in his thirties, is an integral part of my workouts.

  “You tell me that you’re marrying Kayla and you expect me to keep fighting?” Zack shakes his head. “We’re taking a break and you’re going to explain yourself.”

  “I proposed to Kayla Friday night, and now we’re engaged. Nothing to explain. Now raise your gloves. I have to be at the office by nine this morning.”

  “You own the company,” Zack reasons. “They’ll wait.”

  “I know it has been a while since you’ve been employed, and things are probably different in the hedge fund world, but if the boss blows off the schedule, so do the employees,” I say.

  Zack pulls at the Velcro on his gloves. “What happened to the receptionist? The one who made sure we had this ring reserved at five a.m. Monday through Friday?”

  “I ended it.” With our sparring session over, I start pulling off my gloves. “Then I saw Kayla Friday, and I realized she’s the one.”

  “You don’t deserve her.” Zack tucks his gloves under his arm.

  “You’ve met her what? Five times?” I snap. “How the hell would you know?”

  “Kayla is smart, funny, gorgeous and passionate.” He ducks between the ropes and jumps to the gym’s basement floor.

  I follow close behind him. “How would you know she’s passionate?”

  He stops and turns to face me. We have the gym’s lower level to ourselves. All of the other members are climbing or running on machines upstairs.

  “She’s passionate about her animals,” Zack says. “I’ve met her a handful of times and I know she is not the type of woman you date for five to six weeks, maybe two months seeing as you went to the trouble of proposing this time, and then ditch. When you walk away, you’ll have lost your fiancée and your best friend.”

  “I’m not going to lose her,” I say. “I can’t lose her.”

  Zack studies me. And I don’t look away. Finally, he nods as if accepting my words. “Is she at your place now?” he asks. “I’ll come up and say hi.”

  “I’m not sure you want to do that. She moved all of her dogs into my apartment.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “You agreed to that?”

  “Kayla wouldn’t move in without them,” I say with a casual shrug.

  “You are in love, aren’t you?” Zack pushes through the double doors marked exit and hits the stairs. I’m by his side, heading for the locker room on the first floor. There’s an elevator by the boxing ring, but unless one of us is too beaten up, we walk when we’re in the gym.

  “I let her bring the cats too.” I toss out that detail as we reach the first landing and head for the second set of stairs. I know the thought of felines destroying my penthouse will solidify the reality of the situation in Zack’s mind.

  “No shit. The cats?”

  “We’re engaged.” If I say those words enough, I might start believing them myself.

  “I never thought you’d be the first to get married.” Zack’s silent for a while as we reach the second landing and door to the main level. He turns to me, his back blocking the exit. “Can I ask you something?”

  I nod.

  “What’s it like to take your best friend to bed?” he asks. “You’ve know her since what? Elementary school?”

  It would be a disaster.

  But I don’t know that for a fact. It could also be amazing. If I kissed her as if I planned to take her my bed, I might get a taste of what would happen next.

  “Was it awkward?” Zack asks in a matter-of-fact voice. “Seeing her naked for the first time?”

  I school my facial expression and step around my friend. With my hand pressing against the door, I say, “Yeah, I’m not going to answer that.”

  Zack follows me into the bustling main floor. “I’m coming up with you to say hello.”

  “You’re not invited.” I walk into the locker room and head for my bag.

  “I’ll be on my best behavior,” Zack promises.

  “I’ll hold you to that.” I pull on my sweatshirt. Then I find my cell and text Kayla, giving her a quick heads up that we have company. It’s six a.m. and she needs to be ready to play the part of my future wife. She responds with a one-word request.

  Bagels.

  Ten minutes later, the elevator opens into my apartment. The four-legged welcoming committee rushes to great us. I’m careful to keep Kayla’s breakfast out of K-9 reach, but I don’t make an effort to pull them off of Zack. If he didn’t want dogs jumping on him, he shouldn’t have invited himself.

  “Kayla?” I call.

  “In the kitchen.” Her voice fills the apartment. “Take your shirt off before you come in here. I want to see those hard-working muscles on full display.”

  “Did you give her a heads up that I was coming?” Zack asks.

  “Yeah. She’s just messing around.”

  And playing her part.

  I lead Zack and the dogs through the living room and into the kitchen. Kayla’s perched on a kitchen stool, sipping coffee. She looks casual in jeans and an oversized white shirt. I recognize the white V-neck. She traded her pajamas for one of my undershirts.

  Her gaze locks on the bag of bagels.

  “Are those for me?” she asks.

  I set the brown paper bag on the marble island. “I was hoping you’d share.”

  She peers into the bag, and extracts a cinnamon-raisin bagel. The cream cheese appears next. “I don’t know,” she murmurs. “You’re still wearing your shirt. I thought seeing your hard-earned muscles after a workout was one of the perks of moving in with you.”

  “Zack’s here.” I gesture to my friend.

  “Good to see you again, Zack.”

  “You too.” Zack slides his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Congratulations. I never thought this guy would settle down.”

  “I’m just as surprised as you are,” Kayla says, glancing at my friend and offering a winning smile. Combine that grin with my old shirt and her farm-girl next-door freckles, and Kayla’s serving up a hat trick of pure sex appeal.

  To freaking Zack.

  She slides off her stool and steps away from her food. Warning bells sound in my head as if the apartment smoke alarm went off. She moves within arms’ reach. Her hands touch the hem of my mesh gym top. I inhale sharply as her thumbs brush the bare skin above the elastic waistband holding up my gym shorts.

  “I brought you bagels.” I toss this fact out because I need her to go back to her stool. I can’t handle her touch. Not without a physical reaction that’s inappropriate to share with my best friend and my sparring partner.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Zack’s chin dips to his chest, and his gaze fixes on the floor.

  “Kayla,” I growl, my tone heavy with warning.

  Her lips part and she looks ready and willing for a kiss. I narrow my eyes. It’s as if I’m trying to find my way through a maze. Every turn leads to taking Kayla in my arms and tasting her mouth.

  After thirty fucking years of friendship, I want to push Kayla up against the white marble island and feel every inch of her pressed against me. I’ve never looked at Kayla and pictured sex. Sure, I’ve admired her. She’s a beautiful woman. But I’ve never felt as if I would lose my mind over her.

  She’s just playing her part. This is all an act.

  My gaze drops to the white t-shirt Kayla borrowed from my closet. She dressed the part of the fiancée who just rolled out of my bed, but she skipped her bra. I can see the outline of her dark nipples. She’s teasing me, or extracting retribution for Zack’s surprise visit.

  I cast a warning look at Zack. His eyes sure as hell better remain fixed on his sneakers.

  “Did you want a bagel, Zack?” Kayla asks as she draws my shirt up an inch.

  “No.” He lets out an amused laugh. “I should go get cleaned up. Leave the newlyweds alone.”

  Kayla’s hands
freeze. “We’re not married yet.” She turns to Zack and offers him a smile that leaves my teeth grinding against each other. “Do you need help getting in the elevator without the dogs?”

  “I can manage.” Zack reaches down and pets Ava. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gavin.”

  “Sure,” I say. Then I wait until my sparring partner’s footsteps fade. The elevator arrives with a ding. A dog barks, possibly Ava protesting our guest’s departure. The others, Luna, Rocky and Cleveland, are still in the kitchen.

  As soon as the elevator doors close, Kayla steps back. “I think he believed us.”

  “Yes.”

  I want to catch her hand and pull her close. My body believed the scene she set for Zack. I know better. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m standing in my kitchen with a hard-on. And my gym shorts don’t leave much to the imagination.

  “I need to take a shower and head to the office,” I say.

  Kayla slides onto the stool and picks up a plastic knife. “Thanks for the bagels.”

  “You’re welcome.” I move through the kitchen, heading for the bedrooms.

  “Gavin?”

  I glance back at her. She dips the knife in the cream cheese. “Yeah?”

  “I wanted to see if we could fool him.” She spreads a thin white layer on half her bagel.

  “You did a great job.” My cock throbs against my boxer briefs. “You fooled me too.”

  She laughs, dammit. “I noticed. Go take your shower. Then come have a bagel and tell me about the plan for the day.”

  “I’m going to work. You have all day to play with the dogs before we go to a black tie charity event tonight.”

  I hear Kayla demanding to know where we’re going this evening and why, but I’ve already fled to my bedroom. After my shower, I’m heading straight for the office. I need to pull my life back together. Work has saved me before. I’m counting on it again.