Found (Bad Boys with Billions Book 2)

by Laura Marie Altom

  “The good?”

  “Guests were wowed by your dark beauty.”

  I smacked his shoulder. “It didn’t say that.”

  He grinned. “Maybe not in those exact words, but I’m good at reading between the lines.”

  “Uh-huh. Did they mention my name?”

  “Nope. For now, you’re a mystery.” I dared exhale.

  “But so what if they did? Garrett’s drawing up your divorce papers today. It won’t be long until your husband’s served. And after that, we’ll plan a sick island wedding.” I wrapped my arms around him, wishing we never had to leave the suite.

  Liam

  I had a driver take Ella to Sausalito. Of course, this was the last thing I wanted to do, but for whatever reason, she seemed to enjoy her job and with her already stressed about the divorce, I didn’t want her any more upset. We had plenty of time after the wedding for her to assimilate to my way of life. Until then, we’d maintain the status quo—except for her rooming with Nathan. Even though I knew she’d placed him firmly in the friend zone, I wasn’t taking any chances where he was concerned. My gut told me the last thing the kid wanted from Ella was to be her friend.

  I traveled directly from The Fairmont to my Palo Alto office.

  Once there, I told Carol to hold all calls and settled in for a long day.

  The funeral for Ella’s best friend, Willow, was on Friday, and I wanted my head clear to devote all of my attention to Ell.

  I still wasn’t okay about the young woman’s death, but ever since, life seemed to have moved in fast forward. I’d wanted Ella with a single-minded determination I’d only ever before known in business. Even worse, she might currently wear my ring, but with her still legally married, our connection meant squat.

  Leaning back in my chair, I closed my eyes, recalling our newspaper photo.

  Was I wrong to have had Carol arrange for the photo to be taken, then anonymously forwarded to the right people?

  Probably. I didn’t care.

  A sick part of me welcomed the challenge of going head-to-head with Ella’s soon-to-be ex. I doubted he’d provide even a mild challenge, but still, I’d wanted the picture planted as a way to test the water. I was curious whether he had people tracking her, and if so, whether the headline would bring them scurrying like the rats they were out of the shadows.

  Garrett had a team assembling a file regarding Ella’s past. Why I hadn’t thought to do this earlier was beyond me. Honestly? I think I’d been so thrown off my game by encountering a woman who wasn’t impressed by my money or me that I’d been consumed with having her. So much so that I’d waived the usual background check I had legal run on my contracted women. Ella was different. Special.

  If I were dead honest with myself, I’d known from our first sexy-as-fuck kiss at that Arkansas dive bar that I would keep her. I hadn’t ordered a background check because I hadn’t cared what showed up. Though I realized this was a dangerous place for me to be—infatuated beyond reason—I didn’t care about that, either. The only thing that mattered was falling asleep beside her every night and waking alongside her each morning. In a perilously brief time, she’d become my everything. My security blanket and sounding board. Lover and friend.

  I’d do anything for her. Anything but ever let her go.

  Ella

  Yvonne, my boss at the Christmas shop but more important, my friend, clutched her chest while gaping at my ring. “But is so big!” she declared with her thick German accent. “Is your man prince?”

  I couldn’t stop grinning. “Not officially, but he has all the money and toys of any true royal.”

  “I must meet him.”

  “I’ll have him come in.”

  “I am invited to wedding, yes?”

  “Of course.” Although since I knew the store was more a labor of love for her than cash cow, if we did end up having an island wedding, I hoped Liam wouldn’t mind if we paid for Yvonne and her husband to attend. I hadn’t known her long—her husband, an even shorter time—but aside from Liam and Nathan, they felt like my only family. Last night, after Carol had given me a couple of her pills, I forgot that Willow died. Now, talking and dreaming about my wedding made me miss her all the more. Her death had been stupid. A terrible waste.

  “Do you love him?” Yvonne asked. “Really, really love him?”

  I closed my eyes and sighed, breathing in the cinnamon-laced air. We stood in the Hello Kitty room, unloading boxes and boxes of new inventory. Part of the reason I liked her so much was because of the little ways she reminded me of my mom. All the more so now, considering Mom had asked the same question after Blaine approached Daddy about getting permission for us to be wed. Daddy. What a crock! I used to worship my parents. Now, I didn’t know what I felt. Hate. Betrayal. Fear. They were no longer the people who’d raised me. Blaine had turned them into his puppets, and the fact made me sick.

  “Julie, dear? Are you all right? You’re so pale.” Yvonne ran her hand along my upper arm. “And cold. Let me turn up the heat.”

  “It’s okay.” I shook my head. What she didn’t know was that she couldn’t fix the fact that I was cold on the inside.

  “What’s wrong? What happened to your pretty smile?”

  I sighed. “Look . . . There’s something I should’ve told you a long time ago, but I . . . well, I just couldn’t. Now that I’m with Liam?” I shrugged. “Everything’s changed. I don’t have to be afraid.”

  “Afraid?” She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like the sound of this.”

  The cheery bell of the shop’s door jingled, and a herd of white-haired tourists stampeded through. The next twenty minutes were spent ringing up orders and climbing up and down the stepladder to retrieve ornaments from the higher branches of the twenty-five themed artificial Christmas trees.

  After Yvonne finished packaging a music box for out-of-state shipping, and the last customer left the store, she stopped by the register. “Talk. I want to hear everything. A pretty girl like you should never be afraid.”

  I told her my story, starting with my real name and ending with Blaine’s abuse. I skipped the more gruesome details, the way he’d carved his ugly message into the undersides of my breasts. Instead, I focused on the more mundane aspects of my abuse. The way I’d needed his permission to leave the house and he’d kept me on a strict household allowance. The way he’d liked his underwear folded like origami and his wine poured an exact inch from his favorite stemware’s rim. I haltingly relayed how my parents hadn’t believed me when I’d told them the worst of what he’d done. They’d bought into the perfect public image of us as a happy couple to such a degree that they’d found it easier to believe I’d gone mad and mutilated myself, rather than think their powerful judge son-in-law could do wrong. Everyone loved and trusted Blaine. I was the only one who knew what a monster he truly was.

  “Wh-when I vanished,” I said, brushing tears from my cheeks, “I can’t ever remember having been more afraid. I thought I saw him everywhere. I took a bus from Memphis to Little Rock, and had to check it twenty times to reassure myself he wasn’t lurking in a rear seat. From Little Rock, I took another bus to Rose Springs, because I thought the name looked pretty when I saw it on a map. I just knew any town called something so nice could only be good, right?” Tears shone in Yvonne’s eyes.

  “It’s okay,” I assured her. “Being with Liam changed me.” On a fundamental level. He’d taught me to once again trust—something I’d never dreamt of ever again doing. Funny, but Carol probably thought her happy pills had calmed me last night—and they had, to a certain degree— but mostly, what got me past the wall of fear that had stopped me from truly living from the time I’d left Blaine was loving Liam. “You asked if I love him. Really love him . . .” My chest felt too full of anticipation for our lives together to have air left over to speak, so I nodded.

  “And your Liam, he fix things with this Blaine? Keep you safe?” I nodded again.

  “Good.” She took my left hand an
d gave it a squeeze.

  After Yvonne and I closed the shop at four so she could meet with her accountant, I walked in the rain to the apartment Nathan and I shared. Yvonne had offered me a ride, but after opening up to her, I needed this bit of mental space before Nathan caught sight of my ring.

  To say he wouldn’t be happy would be the equivalent of saying Luke Skywalker hated Stormtroopers. The depth of Nathan’s displeasure would be infinitely more complex than mere hate. Nathan had been there for me since literally the first day I’d stepped off the bus in Rose Springs.

  I’d made friends with my seatmate, Paula Stokes. When I said I was moving to Rose Springs, she’d told me that if I needed a job, Wal-Mart was always hiring. She worked in the garden center and loved it. That afternoon, I’d put in my application—or, at least tried. The stupid computer booth I’d used to apply was located in a corner of the Customer Service Center. When it froze, I’d panicked. I really needed the job.

  Nathan had roared past me on his way to pile a stack of soiled clothes into a giant blue plastic bin. As I soon learned was his norm, he’d worn roller skates with his faded jeans, black T-shirt and How May I Help You? royal-blue vest. His hair was dark and messy and his eyes a delicious chocolate brown.

  “Hey, whoa. Are you crying?” he’d asked, stopping when he found me suffering a breakdown in front of the automated application machine.

  “No.” I’d looked away, brushing my tears on my sleeve. Back then, my escape from Blaine was still tenuous. The world was big and scary—even little Rose Springs. My cash was dwindling, and landing a job would be a huge first step toward independence. With the machine not working, he’d taken me straight to the store manager—well, sort of . . .

  “Are you crazy?” I asked when Nathan told me to hop on his back for a ride to the manager’s office.

  “A little,” he said, with a grin so contagious I couldn’t help but return it. “Come on. This place is ridiculously huge. It’ll take us thirty minutes to just walk.”

  “Isn’t that an exaggeration?”

  “Maybe, but I promise, my way’s a whole lot more fun.”

  The long-lost little girl in me jumped up and down and clapped her hands with excitement at the prospect of not only roller skating, but doing it while riding piggyback with my arms around a cute boy.

  The dead girl I’d become crossed my arms. “You’re sweet to offer, but really, if you’ll point me in the right direction, I can make it on my own.”

  He shook his head. “Never mind. We’ll just go the old-fashioned way.”

  Disappointment radiated off him. I’d felt the same from Blaine too many times to count, and it always preceded punishment. Maybe something as banal as a timeout in the pantry. Maybe he’d punch me in the stomach so hard I lost my breath. Maybe he’d take a precious possession— usually one of my few photos of my grandma and grandpa—and force me to sit still and silent while watching him burn a cherished snapshot. Sure, I could have protested, but all that would have done was make my punishment worse.

  To my parents, friends and pretty much the whole town, Blaine was the epitome of a southern gentleman. To me, he was an oily, black nightmare from which I still hadn’t entirely recovered.

  “Are you angry?” I asked Nathan. The last thing my life needed was another irate man. I hustled behind him, working to catch up.

  He stopped and turned to me, wearing a funny look. “No.”

  I didn’t dare even exhale. What if he was lying? “Okay. Good.”

  I walked, and he rolled, the rest of the way in heavy silence. I hated that my refusal to play had resulted in such a dampening of the mood. But you know what? I was proud of myself for doing what I wanted—even if my actions resulted in my new friend being mad. Even deeper, I was relieved that my flash of independence hadn’t resulted in me getting slapped.

  Could Nathan be one of the few good guys?

  We finished our trek in silence.

  We passed through Electronics on our way to a rear Customer Service area. Nathan opened a blue door that led to a long corridor. “After you.”

  “Thanks.” I shuffled past, careful not to brush against him, then once again he took the lead.

  He knocked on the third door on the left. It had a window midway up, and a pudgy, middle-aged man with more hair on his eyebrows than head looked up and smiled. He called in a muffled tone, “Come on in, Nathan.”

  He did. “Sorry to interrupt, but are you still looking to fill Destiny’s snack bar position?”

  “Yes. Got anybody in mind?” The manager put down his phone. A solitaire app was still up on his screen.

  Nathan reached backward to tug me forward by my shirtsleeve. “Voilà! Meet Julie Smith. I caught her up front, filling out the standard application, but the computer was down, and I didn’t want her applying somewhere else before you got a chance at her. She’s my second cousin on my mom’s side—maybe my dad’s, I never can remember—anyway, she’s worked football concessions for years, and I’ll personally vouch for her if you want to get her on the payroll today.”

  The manager asked, “Got a photo ID and social security card?” The office smelled of tuna and bananas.

  “Y-yessir.” Could landing a job really be this easy? If so, I owed Nathan—big time.

  “You’re hired. Nathan, do me a favor and take her by Personnel. I’ll call Doris to let her know you’re headed her way.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Nathan shook the man’s hand. “I appreciate you giving her this chance. She won’t let you down.” He’d directed the last part of his speech to me, and I nodded.

  I wouldn’t let him down. And for as long as I lived, I’d never forget how he’d not only helped a stranger, but hadn’t hit me when I’d disagreed.

  An hour later, I’d finished filling out all sorts of official forms with fraudulent information.

  The old me would have felt guilty for lying. The newer, deader me did what was required to stay alive. In that pursuit, morality had been banished from my vocabulary.

  When I’d donned my gently used, blue How May I Help You? vest, Nathan next escorted me to my new workplace.

  “How long have you been here?” I asked him in Office Supplies.

  “Couple years. I was in college over in Fayetteville—had a full ride in engineering. But my mom got sick, and I kept coming home to see her. My grades sucked, and that wasn’t part of the deal. I lost it all, and here I am. Your stereotypical beauty school dropout.”

  “I’m sorry.” Nathan was anything but stereotypical. He was kind and funny and, apparently, smart. How sad that he’d had such a bright future, only to have it ripped away. In a sense, we had that in common. But I suppose, to be fair, I hadn’t so much lost my future as given it away. Technically, I’d lost it all the day my dad placed my hand in Blaine’s at the First Baptist Church on Dove Lane, voicing his blessing for our marriage to practically everyone in town.

  “How’s your mom now?”

  “Good,” he said with what struck me as a forced smile.

  I don’t know what possessed me to touch his forearm, but I did. Then I asked, “Really?”

  His eyes shone. “Okay, so she died. But I like to think of her up in Heaven, watching The Price Is Right and her soaps, surrounded by a never-ending supply of Cheetos and Caramello bars. So, yeah, in my mind and heart, she’s good.” I nodded.

  “How about you? Are your folks living?”

  “No.” For emphasis, I shook my head.

  “That’s awful for you to have lost both so young. I live with my dad. Guess I should move out, but we keep each other company. I have two sisters. They’re both married with kids, so I look after Dad as best I can.”

  “That’s nice.” I envied him for having a family he actually wanted to be with. “Do your sisters live around here?”

  “One’s in Little Rock, and the other’s in Searcy, so not too far.”

  We’d reached the snack bar, and Nathan opened a stainless-steel warming drawer, scooping ou
t a handful of chips that he then dipped one by one in a Crock-Pot filled with blazeorange nacho cheese.

  “Stop!” a pretty blonde shrieked, smacking his shoulder. She wore a vest identical to mine and her long hair was combed back in a pink-striped ponytail. “That’s gross!”

  “Why? It’s not like I’m double-dipping.” He winked at her before helping himself to more. “Besides, we’ve got more important things to discuss. Willow, meet Julie—your new assistant serving wench.”

  “Hey,” she said to me with a warm smile. “Nice to meet you. Sucks that we both met here, but a job’s a job. Come on.” She motioned me to join her beside a roiling deep fryer. “I’ll show you the finer points of making everyone’s favorite snack—dick on a stick.”

  I laughed. “You mean corn dogs?”

  “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

  Willow was everything I wasn’t. Full of life and fun.

  She had a friend who managed a crap apartment complex and got me a great deal on a one-bedroom. I hadn’t even needed a security deposit.

  We alternated between working days and nights, working together when our shifts overlapped. She taught me a plethora of dirty hot-dog jokes and I taught her more efficient ways of cleaning our equipment, which left her more time to flirt for tips.

  I reached our building’s front door and forced a deep breath.

  It didn’t seem real that Willow was gone.

  I climbed the three floors to our apartment and eased my key into the lock. Usually Nathan was home by now, and my stomach knotted with dread at the inevitable confrontation to come once I told him my news.

  I opened the door to find him seated in his usual spot on the sofa, eating a bowl of SpaghettiOs. Hockey played on the TV. He didn’t even glance my way.

  “Hey,” I said.

  He kept chewing.

  I sat on the lumpy armchair across from him. “You can’t give me the silent treatment forever.”

  “Try me.”