Filthy Love
A Filthy Duet Book 2
Matilda Martel
Copyright © 2020 by Matilda Martel
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Contents
1. Jude
2. Bella
3. Jude
4. Bella
5. Jude
6. Bella
7. Jude
8. Bella
9. Jude
10. Bella
11. Jude
12. Bella
13. Jude
14. Bella
15. Jude
16. Bella
17. Jude
18. Bella
19. Bella
20. Epilogue- Four years later
About the Author
Also by Matilda Martel
One
Jude
It’s a trap.
Love. Marriage. Babies. Whatever. As long as I live, I’ll never understand why so many men run headlong into matrimony and expect their experience to be any different from the many fools who wish they had a life like mine.
I see the way they look at me. Every time I’m out on the town with a beautiful doll, I’ll catch the eye of some poor schlub escorting his missus for their monthly date or anniversary dinner, and the look in his eye gives his misery away. His collar grows a little tighter. Memories of his youth burn a bit brighter. It’s glaringly painful and I’ll have no part of it.
Love doesn’t suit me. Long walks on a warm night. Showing up for a date with flowers and candy. Writing love letters to that one special girl who keeps you up at night. That’s just nonsense. My heart doesn’t work that way.
I don’t think it works at all.
I’m not angling for pity. It’s fine with me. I accept it. I’m not a kid who believes in love at first sight. I don’t believe in soul mates or fate. Why complicate your life with shit you can’t control?
I have no desire to walk in my older brother’s shoes. The idiot’s in love. Madly in love. I’ve never seen him like this and frankly, it’s pathetic.
I used to respect him. He governed his world with meticulous precision. He didn’t have time for frivolous pursuits. He’s the eldest. The crown prince of the empire we inherited. Nothing came between him and our father’s company. Not even me. He took on most of the load, rarely had any fun and gave me the rubbish I couldn’t possibly destroy.
For most of my adult life, he’s delegated menial tasks and bullshit responsibilities to keep me out of his hair. I resented it at first, but now that he wants me to pull my weight, I realize I much preferred being neglected.
I don’t have time to execute all the duties of Chief Marketing Officer and maintain an active social life. It just can’t be done. It’s only been a week since he started cracking the whip and I’m already exhausted.
“Mr. McCormick. Your brother would like to see you in his office in ten minutes.” My assistant’s voice buzzes through the intercom.
“Kim, can you tell him...” I’m quickly interrupted.
“Sorry, Jude.” She recognizes the displeasure in my voice. “I already offered a few lame excuses. He knows you’re not busy until your noon meeting and says it’s important.”
Fuck. What now?
“Tell him I’ll be there in ten. I need to hit the head.” I kick away from my desk, stomp out of my chair and march from my office into the hallway. Steps from the bathroom, my eyes shift to the oversized clock on the wall. It’s 11:30. Why the shit can’t this wait until after lunch? I don’t appreciate being ordered around.
I swing the door open.
“Everybody out!” Frustrated, I bark at the dawdlers taking up space in the executive washroom.
This is bullshit. I need my own bathroom. I haven’t complained because I wasn’t working, but if he plans to make me work full days, I’ll want a bigger office and a private washroom---just like him. This company is part mine. Dad left it to both of us and it’s about time he stops acting like he’s King of McCormick Media.
I take care of business, wash my hands, check my hair and head out to the better side of the hallway. Declan’s domain.
“Mr. McCormick...just a second. I’ll announce you.” My brother’s assistant shoots out of her seat as soon as she spots me.
I wave her off. “I’m on a schedule, Holly. It’s been ten minutes.” I tap my watch and push open the door.
“You rang?” I raise an eyebrow and slam the door behind me.
“I did.” He leans back in his chair and smirks. “I need to speak to you about the interview you have at noon.”
“What interview?” I search my mind and try to remember the name on the Post-It note Kim slapped on my desk this morning.
He crosses his arms at his chest. “The fucking interview you have in twenty minutes. Jesus Christ, Jude. I know your schedule. You haven’t done a damn thing all day but cruise into the office at 10:30, drink a protein shake, answer emails that should have been answered last week and what else? Bathroom breaks? Flirting with the girls in social media? This might be the only thing on your calendar today. Can you get your head out of the clouds long enough to do your job for one goddamn hour?”
“An hour? Who is it? Since when do you send anyone important to me?” I run my fingers through my hair and once again reconsider his offer to sign over my portion of the company.
I think about it every day. It’s the first thing on my mind as soon as I wake up and it’s the thing that most keeps me up at night. Perhaps it’s best to enter early retirement. I hate this company. I hate media. This life, this work has never been a good fit for me. Dad knew what he was doing when he left Declan in charge.
“You are the Chief Marketing Officer. I didn’t want to give you that position. You do absolutely nothing to deserve it. I can’t give you anything too important because you’ll fuck it up and you know you will.” Declan throws a pen at me, but I catch it mid-air and throw it back.
“Just tell me who I’m interviewing so I can get the hell out of here. Next week, draw up the damn paperwork to get me out of this shit show. I’m blowing my life away in this building.” I snatch a piece of paper from his desk and grab a pen. “Give me this person’s name and tell me what I’m supposed to do. I don’t care enough to go through the motions of judging their character.”
He cocks his head and sighs. “You can’t leave yet. I need you here for the next three weeks.”
“No, you don’t. You just want to talk me out of it.” I shake my head and stand to leave. I’ve had enough of his big brother lectures.
“No, leave. I’m all for it. I’ll pack your desk and buy you a cake. This company doesn’t suit you. But I need you to stay around while I’m away. Ian will run things with Uncle Killian who flies in tonight. But they can’t sign shit. Only you can. You don’t have to work all day. Just make a daily appearance.” He stands and heads towards his window. Typical. He always stands by his window when he starts one of his lectures.
“You don’t fool me. I’m serious. I don’t want to be here anymore. And where the hell are you going? You never go anywhere.” I recline against the door and wait for his speech.
“I said, I’m glad you want out. But I need you to stay for three weeks because I’m getting married. I’ll be planning my wedding, moving my Ava into our place and then taking her on a honeymoon. I will require your presence in the office. After that
, feel free to fuck off.” He pulls his phone out of his coat pocket and smiles to himself.
Jesus Christ. What a pitiful piece of work.
“Married? Are you out of your mind? You just met this girl.” I laugh and march closer to his desk. “How do you know she isn’t just marrying you for your money?”
“First and foremost, don’t you ever question my future wife’s character, or I’ll beat the shit out of you just like I did when we were kids.” He snaps back and charges forward.
“You’re four years older than me, dickhead. It was hardly a fair fight.” I meet him halfway and confront him chest first, a whole inch taller than his short ass.
“I’m confident in Ava’s affection. Especially, since frivolity annoys her, and I had to wrestle her to the ground to slide my ring on her finger. You should be so lucky to find someone half as guileless.” He points a finger into my chest, but I clasp his wrist and knock his arm away.
“Get your fucking finger out of my face, asshole. Marry. Don’t marry. I couldn’t care less. Fill a house with little bullies just like their father. But stop telling me what to do. I’ll stay the three weeks. As a favor. Then I’m gone. And you better not try to swindle me on my half of the company.” I spit my words and turn away. As I reach for the door, he calls out one more time.
“Her name is Isabella Hamilton.”
“Who? What?” I swing the door open and glare at him over my shoulder.
“Your interview, dipshit. Isabella Hamilton. She’s the intern you’re hiring. She’s young and competent. Just meet her and hand her off to Seth. He’s much more professional than you. I don’t want you offending her.” He rolls his eyes, insults me and pivots back to the window.
“Offend her? Why would I offend her?” Now I’m offended.
“You hit on anything with a skirt. Don’t hit on her. She’s a nice girl. Not your type, anyway. Just get through the typical questions, shake her hand and send her to Seth. He’s expecting her.” He flips me off and sends me on my way.
Un-fucking-believable.
Two
Bella
“Are you upset? You look upset. Don’t lie, I can tell by your body language.” I hustle past her tense body and dart into her walk-in closet. Ava has the best clothes. Her mother buys her couture and ships it from Boston. Not my mom. She sends care packages full of Twinkies and photos of Samantha, her Maltese, in the outfit of the month.
“I’m not upset.” She mumbles as she follows, falling into her messy sheets still fresh from her morning sex romp. Three weeks ago, we were both single ladies on the prowl in the big city with next-door neighbor apartments. A dream come true. Now she’s sporting a ten-carat engagement ring from Cartier and planning her wedding. Years of planning down the tubes because she fell in love with a man twice her age.
In four days, my uptight older sister, a failed novice fresh from the convent, moves into Ava’s digs. What a freaking nightmare.
“You look like you have something on the tip of your tongue.” I narrow my eyes and yank a black mini skirt suit off the hanger. “Is this new?”
She nods. “It is. But I thought you were against internships. You made a big deal about me saying no to mine and now you’re signing up for one? I don’t get it. Just because I’m getting married doesn’t mean I’m giving up our work. I made it clear to Declan that you and I are chasing this dream.” She hugs a pillow and sighs.
“I’m not giving up on it either.” I pull a red and pink camisole out of her drawer. “Which one looks better? This is important. Your future husband set this up and I need your help.”
She brings her hand to her chin and stares thoughtfully at each one. “Not the red. It competes with your hair. I’m not saying you don’t look good in red, but you either go all the way or nothing at all. Wear the pink. It’s light. Better contrast.”
I hold it up against the suit and agree. “You’re right.”
“I don’t like that Declan fixed this up. He told me his brother is a bit of a player and I don’t want you getting hurt. You think you’re a badass, but I know you, Bella. You’re more bark than bite. If he hurts you, I’ll have to kill him. Is that what you want? Do you want me to kill my future brother-in-law?” She moves past me into the closet and hands me her favorite pair of Mary-Jane heels. “Here. These are for luck. To borrow, ma’am. Not to keep.”
I squeal and slip them on. “Thanks, Ava. You know how much I love them. They’re perfect for today. And I know you’re worried, but you shouldn’t be. I’ve got this planned out. I’ve been studying and taking notes. You know me. I’ve got a strategy for everything. Your man gave me the low-down on his baby brother. He thinks he’s incorrigible, but I think this is worth a shot. And the payout could be huge.”
I strut across her bedroom and show off my dazzling threads. Well, hers. “If this works, we’ll be sisters! Our babies will be cousins.”
“Notes? Strategy? What are you babbling about?” She drags me into her vanity seat and pulls out a comb. Ava’s the best at styling this mess of curls, and this could be one of the most important days of my life. I need her magic.
“Well, Declan says Jude can be a bit of a man whore. He’s never been in love. Never wanted anything to do with it. He avoids complications like the plague.” When she opens her mouth to speak, I hold out my hand. “I realize these are not the best qualities. But he’s exactly like Marcus St. James in this book called Billionaire Bad Boy. I’ve left it on your coffee table. You should familiarize yourself with my plan.”
She pulls my hair. “Isabella! This is serious! You are not basing your strategy on a damn romance novel!”
I shake my head. “Marcus was just like Jude. He didn’t have time for love. He didn’t believe in it. It was for suckers. Until he met the woman of his dreams and she turned him down. The heroine, Sophia Rinaldi, refused to have anything to do with him. And the more she dismissed him, the more it drove him nuts. He fell madly in love. It was beautiful. I swear to God, I cried my eyes out the last three chapters and then I read it again.”
“And that’s your plan? To turn him down? What if he doesn’t hit on you? What if he does and then never asks you out again?” She teases and fluffs.
I close my eyes while she sprays me down. “I gave your man instructions to warn Jude from hitting on me. He’s supposed to insinuate that I’m off-limits. A good girl. Bad boys love good girls. They can’t help themselves. Declan’s warning coupled with Jude’s desire to do the exact opposite of whatever Declan wants might light a small fire.” I glance at the mirror and hold my breath. A masterpiece. She even took out the frizz. Ava never fails me.
“That sounds complicated. Guard your heart, Bella. I’ve seen photos. My Declan is perfect for me, but Jude is...” She stops mid-sentence and censors her enthusiasm.
“He’s gorgeous, right? You can say it. You’ve got the good one. He’s the responsible, dependable one who tackled you like an overzealous linebacker bearing flowers. And Declan is fucking hot. But Jude. Dear Lord.” I take a deep breath and smile to myself.
How in the world am I going to get through a whole interview and pretend to be Sophia Rinaldi? That girl had her shit together. She made Marcus beg and plead before she gave him the smallest glimmer of hope. I’m no Sophie. I’m not sure I can hold out that long.
Am I setting myself up for failure? Jude is way hotter than that dude on the cover.
“Bella! Your interview’s in forty minutes. You need to get going. Midtown is far. Declan sent a car and the driver just text that he’s a mile away.” Ava grabs my resume copies, slides them into a folder and hands me my purse. “You can do it! You’re the best! And I’ll give you one hint that might help.”
“What?” I’m suddenly confused.
“Channel Molly Ringwald. The pout, the eye roll, the resting bitch face. It won’t be difficult. These are your calling cards. Channel Molly and blow him off. But remember what I said. If he hurts you, I’ll kill him.” She gives me a kiss on the cheek a
nd pushes me out the door.
Molly Ringwald?
Three
Jude
“Miss Hamilton, this is the third time you’ve tried to end this interview by suggesting I take you to meet Mr. Anders. Even now you’re sitting on the edge of your seat. Move back. Now.” I knit my brow and gesture with my hand. While I wait, she stares cock-eyed, hesitates and then wiggles a few inches back. That’s as much as she’ll give me.
I’ve known her for less than an hour and Isabella Hamilton is already an itch I can’t scratch.
“I’m sorry. Mr. McCormick. The other Mr. McCormick, the one in charge, told me most of the interview would take place with a Mr. Seth Anders. He said you hate these things and would try to push me out quickly.” She wrings her hands and straightens her skirt. My eyes drift helplessly down the length of her legs before I quickly catch myself. This girl is terrible. The last thing I want to do is store mental images of her for later use.
“My brother isn’t in charge of the Marketing Department. I am.” I struggle to mask my growing arousal as her perfume drifts into my face. Flowers and candy. Sweet and fresh. My taste buds sting with the urge to lick the long line of her neck to find out more. But it’s not just the way she smells, it’s the tiny insolent girl in all her glory that’s driving me up the wall. It’s her dark eyes, her shiny lips, the freckles, wavy hair, and the mouth-watering curve of her full breasts. I’m monumentally annoyed and yet as hard as a steel pipe.
It’s baffling. I must be a glutton for punishment. In what universe does someone this rude get me harder than I’ve been in years? She’s a nuisance. Condescending and immune to my charm. But something about sending her to Seth makes me want to choke the life out of him.
Filthy Love Page 1
