Bad Boys Rule

by Naughty Aphrodite

  ZOE

  Zoe couldn’t breathe.

  “How dare you?” she whispered, tears stinging in her eyes.

  “How dare I what?” He asked, glancing over at her. “How dare I tell you the truth? You seem to think I’m some dumb rich guy, but I got where I am through my own drive. Part of that means I need to see things logically. I need to be able to understand people.”

  “You don’t understand me,” she said, angry that he was using a lie to try to force her to fire Porter.

  But something nagged at her. Was Porter really into her? Still, as upset at him as she was, she had to admit, maybe she was being unfair. Not that she planned to admit that to him.

  “It’s not a date,” she said again, needing to reaffirm, since he didn’t seem to get it.

  To her absolute shock, he pulled the car over. He turned to face her. As she stared him down, daring him to cross her again, she saw his eyes flash to the necklace before meeting hers.

  “It’s not a date,” he said, his eyes narrowing a tiny bit. “You’re not my type anyway. I said that to get Porter to react. I was hoping it would make his position clear to you. Obviously,” he said, looking away for a moment, “I failed.”

  Zoe sat, feeling like someone had slipped a razor between her ribs into her heart and sliced it clean in two before she even knew something was wrong. Not his type. She’d been fighting so hard to tell him she wasn’t interested, like an idiot. He wasn’t into her. She was so stupid!

  Unable to speak, she nodded, then stared out her window, blinking back tears. Sure, she’d been pushing for this, but it still stung to be so firmly rejected. Thinking he liked her was an ego boost. Finding out it had been an act was soul-crushing.

  Biting down on her lip to keep her cool, she felt the skin slice and tasted blood. The pain created a tiny equalizer between her heart and head, and she sucked the tender spot. The rest of the trip was silent, but Zoe found no peace in it. His words just echoed round and round her mind, slicing deeper into the heart of her being.

  He pulled in to park and she sniffed just a tiny bit, hoping he’d just think she was feeling a bit stuffy. She watched him get out and opened her door. He came around to her side, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He offered her his arm and she took it.

  They made their way to the restaurant.

  A pretty girl showed them to their seat, her eyes all over Christopher in a way that made Zoe uncomfortable.

  She sat opposite him and waited for a few moments of privacy. But the girl hovered, chatting with Christopher for a few moments before he told her he needed a few minutes. There was no doubt in Zoe’s mind the girl was pretending that she didn’t exist. Not once did the girl even look at her.

  Zoe didn’t care.

  But when Christopher turned all the attention in those emerald green eyes her direction, she found herself breathless.

  “You’re very candid,” he said simply, “Allow me to be so.” He hesitated, as if waiting for her permission to continue.

  She nodded. What was he getting at?

  “The mistake you made at my birthday,” he said, placing his elbows on the table and folding his hands under his chin, “it was enough to end you.”

  The sting of the words hit her like a freight train. But he wasn’t done.

  “If I hadn’t been in good humor, I would have destroyed you.” He lowered his hands, his eyes on her like he could pull her apart with a stare. “I’ve dismantled business for less.” He paused, and she blinked, absorbing all of it. He was a pompous asshat, but she also knew he was right. Someone with so much influence could crush her.

  “Why didn’t you?” she asked, needing to know. He seemed surprised by the question, but the waiter popped over and asked if they were ready.

  “Order for me,” she said, giving him total control. She couldn’t care less about the food, she needed to know why he’d done what he did.

  With a nod, Christopher ordered and the waiter was off, leaving them alone once more.

  “Because you owned it.” He met her stare again.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, watching how his hands moved. They were huge, and she suddenly wondered how they’d feel on her skin. Her hand in his felt swallowed up, yet it felt right.

  He took a deep breath and shifted in his seat. “You stood up there, in front of many strangers and held a dick cake with your chin held high. You didn’t run away, or back down, or just not show up.”

  She hadn’t even considered not showing up. That would have fixed a few things. She could even have claimed a flat tire or something. She met his knowing eyes, and he continued speaking as if she’d spoken aloud.

  “The fact that you hadn’t even considered skipping out says volumes of your character.”

  Shock roared through her and he gave a slight shrug. “I can read people,” he said, as if sensing her question. “But if I’d crushed you, I might never have forgiven myself.” His face hardened. “And Porter needs to go.”

  “Why do you hate him so much?” He’d said he wasn’t interested in her, why did he care if someone else was?

  Her question didn’t even make him bat an eye. “He’s going to drag you down. And if I don’t help you, I’m hurting you.”

  “I’m not your responsibility,” she said.

  But he affixed her with the full power of his stare and her breath caught. “You were my responsibility the moment I saved your ass, little miss. There’s an old story about saving lives. Once you save one, you’re responsible for it forever. While I didn’t literally save you, I saved your business.”

  “That’s stupid,” she said, rebelling at the thought of him feeling any responsibility to her or her bakery.

  “Well, since I’m now a major shareholder in your business, I guess that’s not for you to say.” His emerald eyes left her face as he picked up a glass of ice water and took a sip of it. She found herself hoping there was arsenic in it.

  “You couldn’t have bought up all the stocks,” she accused, angry that he’d done something so underhanded.

  An evil smile tugged the corners of his lips. “You’d be amazed what some people will do if you ask nice and offer a lot of money.”

  “Tell me again how you’re not a spoiled rich boy?” she said, taking the lemon from her glass and giving it a squeeze before stirring the drink with her spoon.

  “Correction,” he said in cavalier tone, “I’m not only a spoiled rich boy.” He arched an eyebrow at her and she stood up. The verbal sparring was fun, but exhausting.

  “I’m going home. Thank you for the eye-opening talk,” she said, moving away as he stood slowly. She spun around, nearly bumping into the waiter. Darting around him, she made a beeline for the exit.

  ***

  At home, Zoe found herself pacing. How dare he? What had she gotten herself into? Why had she challenged him?

  A knock at the door left her shaking her head. With anger locked and loaded, she answered it. “Leave me alone,” she burst out to a startled Porter.

  “I just wanted to know how it went,” he said.

  “You’re fired, Porter. I’m sorry. I’ll have your final check tomorrow; you can come pick it up.” Her heart pounded hard in her chest as his face fell into an expression of shock.

  “No,” he said, and shock ripped through her.

  “Yes,” she said. “You’re fired. Now please go.” To her absolute shock, he began blinking and his eyes glittered like he was about to cry.

  “But… I love you, Zo,” he said nearly at a whisper. “I’ve put everything into the bakery. Please don’t fire me.”

  “Don’t make this harder,” she said. A thought entered her mind and she gave it voice before she could consider the ramifications. “Did you sell your stocks?” she asked, thinking about the look on Christopher’s face as he said that she’d be amazed what people would do if asked nicely and offered a lot of money.

  His face
gave her answer enough and she closed the door, feeling her world crumbling around her. She needed to look at the numbers. When she’d offered out stocks to friends, she’d only left herself in possession of forty-nine percent under the impression her loyal friends would never sell out and leave her no longer in control of her company.

  Unable to face the dawning realization, she leaned on the door, hoping it could hold her upright. As her breaths began to come from a tighter and tigher place, she leaned forward a bit in hopes her airways would open a bit more and felt the weight of the necklace shift.

  The necklace. Christopher had shared a part of his very soul with her. He’d become a real person in that moment. He’d become someone who’d face real life tragedy. He’d become human.

  Now she knew better.

  On the other side of the door, she heard a knock. “Go away,” she said, struggling to breathe.

  “We need to talk.” It was Christopher.

  “Leave me alone,” she said, feeling her chest tighten up further.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice suddenly soft and concerned.

  White dots began to swim before her eyes and the world blurred. A tingle in her lips left her fighting harder to breathe normally. She’d get through this. She always had before. She was indestructible.

  When she couldn’t answer, she felt the door open and moved aside. Christopher instantly grabbed a dining chair and guided her into it.

  “Head between your knees,” he said, gathering the stray hair that had escaped her hair tie. “Just breathe. In: one, two, three; out.”

  His voice became her whole world and she just listened to him. After several moments of him easing her into a safer place, she found her chest finally clearing and the dizziness passed.

  “Move slow,” he cautioned, and she straightened up. He didn’t hesitate to gather her into a hug. She found herself pressed to his chest. His scent surrounded her and he invaded every sense in the best possible way. Her arms wound around his neck.

  No one had even been so calm with her in the midst of a panic attack. No one had ever just reacted, taken charge, been in control like that. He’d made her feel safe.

  And his embrace left no doubt he wasn’t judging her for it, either.

  His lips found her cheek and she felt genuine regret as he pulled back and let her go. “Thank you,” she said, unable to trust her voice. She wanted to thank him, but part of her was still mad at him too.

  “How much of the stock did you buy?” she asked, ready to wince at the answer.

  “Fifty-one percent,” he said and she felt her whole body sag.

  He jumped forward and held her on her feet even as the world threatened to dump her at his feet. From his pocket, he produced a sealed envelope. “I had my lawyers draw this up for you.”

  He owned her company. He owned her. She was done. Her life was over. He would no doubt want her to change things, he’d want control, he’d make it some Frankenstein monster he felt would make money. Because if Christopher Cartel was anything, he was a business man.

  She refused the envelope, as if not taking it would mean she didn’t accept things and he’d have no power over her.

  He placed it on the table.

  Then he pulled out another chair and sat opposite her once more. They sat in silence a few moments, but everything had changed. Whatever power she felt as he held in the situation was gone.

  “I lied to you,” he said, and she looked up at him. Had he not bought up all the stocks? Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

  He shook his head. “Well, I didn’t lie. I mislead you. When I told you you’re not my type.” His emerald eyes met hers. “You’re not, but I’m interested in you.”

  “Because you don’t understand me,” she whispered.

  To her surprise, he nodded. “You’re much more complex a person than I’m used to meeting. You’re open, strong, a force to be reckoned with. But you’ve…” he trailed off.

  “I’ve got issues.” The words left her lips like a compliment and he nodded, a small smile gracing his handsome face. “You’ve got them too,” she said defensively, looking away.

  His fingers found her chin and she faced him. “You’re right,” he said, and his eyes stayed to her lips.

  But she wasn’t about to let him take control. He had enough control over everything in her life. She’d been curious about his lips since he’d first spoken to her. Now, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

  His hand found her cheek and the graze of his fingertips on her skin sent a shiver through her whole being. There was an honesty in the kiss, an easy curiosity that left her needing more. The kiss deepened, though she wasn’t sure if it was at her insistence or his. All she knew was that he tasted like a sweet summer day full of potential and promise, perfection and joy.

  It ended too soon as he pulled away.

  Stunned, she sat back in her chair. What was she thinking? Still, nothing was as freeing as knowing that he’d known she was screwed up in the head, yet he was still into her enough to kiss her.

  Standing up, she found him rising opposite her. Her hands pushed him away, but he pulled her in. Her body betrayed her and her arms slid around his neck. But he didn’t kiss her. He merely kissed her cheek and pulled back.

  Without a word, he left, closing the door behind him.

  Zoe stared after him. Her fingers found their way up to her still-tingling lips. Had a kiss ever felt that electric? Had anyone ever tasted so sweet? Had there ever been such a thrill in her blood as when they’d kissed?

  Feeling so very alone, she dropped back into a chair. His scent still lingered, and her gaze found the envelope. Once again, her heart began to pound. Pleasure shifted to pain and fear in the blink of an eye. She snatched up the envelope and scanned the legalese.

  The words sank in and she wanted to stand up and squeal.

  He’d given it all back to her. And, on the last page, was a handwritten note.

  Zoe,

  Don’t ever let anyone bully you; not even me. This is your business. It passes with you. Or it fails with you. Not with anyone else.

  Christopher

  With trembling hands, she pulled the last page free and folded it twice. Hurrying into the kitchen, she went into the third drawer and pulled out the sleek black picture frame she’d had left over from another project.

  Placing the folded paper in the frame, she carried it out to the living room and placed it on the mantle. It would serve as a daily reminder that she was her own boss. That no one owned her. That she’d never have this fear ever again.

  Admiring the words, she picked up her phone. Sure, he’d found her house, but she’d done her own stalking and had found his phone number.

  She gave it a call.

  He answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Christopher.” She said. “I wanted to say thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. It was a terrible business move.” His voice was flat, firm, and she sensed he was trying to hold her at arm’s length.

  But a genuine laugh burst from her. “True, you suck at this whole spoiled rich boy thing.”

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asked, his own voice lacking humor. But she wasn’t bothered by it. She understood he felt the need to put distance between them. That what had happened between them was as terrifying for him as it was for her. But she’d never been so sure of anything in her life.

  And she was going to go for it. “Go out with me.”

  He was silent, and she knew he was going to turn her down.

  “At least let me explain my position,” she said, doing her best to sound totally reasonable.

  “Explain, then,” he said. “I’m listening.”

  “Not over the phone,” she said, a smile sneaking across her lips at the familiar back and forth. “Over dinner, instead.”

  “A business dinner?” He asked, and her grin widened. He was playing al
ong with her. There was hope after all.

  “Sure,” she said, and her heart began to beat in overtime. “Tonight at eight,” she added before hanging up on him. With feet light as air, she began to bounce around the kitchen – still dressed up all pretty in the dress he’d given her – and began to pour her heart and soul into a dinner they would share.

  An hour later, with the table set, candles lit, wine and glasses in place, she took a second to breathe and smile at her handiwork.

  A knock at the door startled her and she rushed over to open it. On the other side stood Christopher.