by Mia Carson
It had taken me awhile to track her down, and I wasn’t going to let her go, with or without her permission. Hook or crook. Sara was once mine, and she would be mine again, regardless of what I had to do. I owned half the city, and even though money could not buy everything, I was prepared to try my best with all I had. I looked at her now, hoping and praying she’d humor me and leave the building with me. I needed a quiet place to talk to her.
SARA
I was certain James had lost it, but he didn’t look drunk.
“Please Sara?” he pleaded.
“James, what makes you think you can break my heart, take off for five years, show up in town, trick me into seeing you, and expect me to go on a cruise with you? Are you delusional? You really think I’m that….”
James didn’t give me a chance to respond to his request; I suddenly found myself being dragged out of the ballroom toward the exit. His hold on my hand was firm yet steady, and I had no choice but to keep up with him.
“James, you’re crazy.”
“Sara, you’re too damn stubborn. That has always been your problem.”
“But I have a contract with Fox Wood ….”
“I’ll double the money,” he said without stopping.
“Stop. Hold on,” I said as I yanked my hand out of his grip and rubbed my wrist with my other hand.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt you.” He reached out to touch my wrist. “Let me see.”
“I’m not hurt,” I said, pulling my hand away before he could touch me. “It’s just that I can’t just leave with you.” I looked at him, my voice firm as I tried to hold his gaze. I wanted to make sure he remembered I wasn’t one of those women who did whatever they were told. I couldn’t hold his gaze for too long as he stared at me like he could see through me. Who was I kidding? With all that acquired wealth, he was probably used to getting women to do whatever he wanted, and I wasn’t going to be an exception, stepsister or not.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because I don’t trust you, James,” I said before I could think. I did trust him, somewhat, but after that kiss, I didn’t trust that he would not try to kiss me again. I couldn’t risk him kissing me again.
“That sounds sensible.” A frown creased his brow; he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “You know what? Call a friend and let them know you’re with me. Here’s all the information you need.”
“It’s not necessary,” I hesitated before taking the card. “I don’t think I’m in any danger with you.”
“But if it’ll make you feel safer, please let someone else know you’re with me.” As he handed the card to me, his fingers brushed against my skin, sending warmth all over my body. Being in his presence could only mean trouble, and leaving the manor with him was certainly asking for more trouble. I took the card and pretended to be reading it. I burst out laughing. “James Brickstone? For real? How did that happen?”
“My mom married Mr. Brickstone and he adopted me after they got married.”
“Hence your name and fortunes.”
“Mom was his first marriage and he didn’t have kids of his own.”
“Lucky you,” I murmured. So my asshole of a stepbrother now owned the entire town? Great. There was nowhere to hide.
“Lucky me indeed, but he’s a good man.” His voice had lowered.
“So sorry about how things turned out with our parents.”
“Me too, but our parents were both adults. They chose to get married and merge our families. They also chose to get divorced when they couldn’t handle it. I guess life is full of twists.”
I looked at him, trying to decipher his emotions. He had never been one to hide his true feelings well. “You truly believe that?”
“Yes. Like both of us together again. I can say the best thing about them being married was meeting you,” he said.
“You had a strange way of showing your affection,” I sighed as memories of his rejection floated in my mind. Meeting him had been the best thing in my life until I realized I had fallen in love with him. He hadn’t felt the same way about me, and when I’d stupidly told him how I felt about him, he had laughed in my face, told me to get over myself, and had started dating the most popular girl in school. That was just a few days after we first had sex, a few weeks before our parents broke up and his mom moved out with him.
“Sara, I was a kid. What I did was wrong. I should never…”
“I don’t want to talk about it yet,” I cut him off, hoping he’d drop the subject.
He was silent for a few seconds. “Will you go on the cruise with me?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I replied. Being close to him for a few minutes was making me want him. Leaving the party with him was not the best choice.
“Really, if it’s the money, I said I’ll double it,” he said.
“James, if you say that one more time, I’m walking away forever,” I hissed. It was more about my pride than the money. As much as I wanted to tour the inner harbor with this man, I didn’t want him to feel that he owned me because he’d paid for me to keep him company that evening, not after he made me look like a fool five years ago.
“You’re right. Would it make you feel better if you told the hotel staff that you’re going to be gone for a few hours with me? That way if I killed you they’d know where to find you.”
My eyes shot up to his face, and I could see a smile in his eyes. He looked a little more relaxed than in the ballroom.
“That may not be a good idea. Besides, I’m not supposed to leave here with you. And I don’t want rumors spreading,” I said.
“About you or me?” He was laughing.
“Me and you,” I said. I realized this was probably not his first time taking a woman home, not that he was taking me home, and he was probably used to people talking about him. I was just a regular girl, hardly anybody important, so I doubted I would suddenly make the morning news. As far as I knew, no one knew of our past relationship, and if our association ever became news, we’d just let people know about the step-sibling relationship.
“Your reputation will be intact.” He was grinning, and said, as if he’d read my mind, “I promise you won’t make the morning news. I don’t want my stepsister’s reputation trashed.”
“Ex-stepsister,” I reminded him. “Step would mean our parents are still married. They are not. As long as I don’t make some tabloid in the morning, I’m good.”
“Correction noted, Sara. You’re my ex-stepsister. And I’ll make sure you’re not on the news.”
I nodded, blushing. Of course I was too unimportant to make any news. Those front page details about men like James Brickstone made news only if the woman involved was like Vera or a somebody. What was the news going to say about me? Rich, sexy, handsome, and famous James Brickstone left with an unidentified female before the exquisite Fox Wood Manor gala ended?
“One problem. Fox Wood Manor will only pay me if I remain on the premises,” I said. Even though it wasn’t all about the money, I was still searching for a good excuse to get away from him. The longer I stayed in his presence, the more difficult breaking away would be, and I had no intention of my heart breaking again.
“Let’s go. I’ll take care of that.” He turned and walked toward the exit, not looking to see if I was following.
I stood my ground. He had the audacity to treat me like I was his property yet again! I was no longer the girl he had fucked and dumped years ago after I told him how much I cared for him. I stood on the spot for a few more seconds and watched him moving away from me. I did want to spend more time with him outside of the hotel, and as much as I hated to be the weaker one, I didn’t have much of a choice but to run after him.
First off, I needed the money, regardless of how I pretended, and secondly, I wanted to find out what he’d been up to for the past five years. But I needed to let someone else know where I was heading, just in case things turned sour and I needed rescuing.
<
br /> “I need to use the restroom. I’ll be back in just a second,” I yelled at him, causing him to slow down. I walked away before he could respond.
“Five minutes. You’ll find my car outside,” he called.
I hurried to the restroom, which was just down the lobby. Like everything in the manor, the bathroom was elegant, with a marble floor, a wall-to-wall mirror, and a bathroom attendant. I greeted the woman and ran into one of the stalls. Each stall was large enough to hold a small party. As soon as the door closed behind me, I pulled my phone out of my bag, took a picture of the business card James had given me, and sent it as an attachment to my roommate, Elle, along with a text: “Just in case something happens to me, this is who I was last with.” No sooner had I sent the text than my phone rang.
Elle was my roommate and best friend. She was not the best person when it came to making practical decisions, but she was the only one I could tell things like this to. She wouldn’t freak out or judge me wrongly.
“Sara! Oh my goodness. Are you for real?” She had read my text.
“Yes, Elle,” I whispered. “He wants me to go on a cruise on the harbor with him. I don’t know if I should.”
“Are you serious? What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing,” I lied. “I just don’t know.”
“Sara, you are thinking too much. Go and have fun. He’s only one of the richest men on the planet.”
“Sure,” I laughed, wishing I could tell her the main reason I didn’t want to go with Mr. Brickstone - he was my stepbrother.
“Let me know how things go.”
“Sure. I’ve got to go. He’s not too patient.”
Elle giggled, “Then I guess you won’t be holding out on him. See you in the morning.”
I walked out of the stall and could feel the bathroom attendant staring at me as I washed my hands. She must have overheard me and probably thought I was some sort of a call girl. She handed me a warm towel to dry my hands, and I could tell she was making every effort to avoid my eyes. If only she knew the man I was talking about was my stepbrother who I would never have sex with again!
A limo was parked right outside the main door, and once I stepped outside, I knew it was James’. I walked to the car, and a nicely dressed chauffeur opened the back door for me. He didn’t say a word, only nodded to me. I wondered how many strange women his boss picked up every day. I slid into the car, and he closed the door after me.
“Sorry about that,” I said to James before noticing he was on the phone. He held up one finger to signal to me that he would be done in a few seconds. A quick glance at his frown told me that whoever he was talking with on the phone had pissed him off. I wondered if it was a woman. His eyes caught mine, and I quickly turned away. I started fiddling with the straps on my bag. This man was making me nervous and excited all at the same time.
He glanced at his watch after he ended the call. “You’re two minutes late.”
“What’s your point?” I asked, doing my best to withhold the amusement bubbling inside of me. James was as impatient as the last time we were together. Maybe even a little more.
“You said you only needed five minutes,” he said.
“Well, you know, I don’t own a cock, so I couldn’t just whip it out, pee, and tuck it back in,” I hissed at him, but it must have been louder than my intention. The driver looked at me with an amused look. His boss had probably never been spoken to in such a manner. But then, whatever women he hung out with didn’t know him as well as I did and couldn’t get away with what I could. I wanted to ask him how he’d fared with women over the past five years, but the look on his face told me he wasn’t in the mood for any jokes. I wondered how the rest of the night would turn out.
“Where to, sir?” the driver asked over the intercom.
“Mariana.”
“Yes, sir,” he said.
I wanted to ask where Mariana was, but I didn’t feel like revealing my ignorance just in case it was a popular restaurant that everyone knew. It was bad enough that I was being paid to be in his company. It was also really bad that we had a sexual history together. I didn’t want him to look down on me any further.
“So tell me more of what you’ve been doing with yourself, Sara,” his rich baritone voice cut across my thoughts. “Since I last saw you.”
“Not much. Currently in grad school.” I stopped, not sure what else to tell him.
“I figured as much. You were always the book worm,” he smiled.
“And you the playboy,” I said.
“Sara, I know I owe you a big apology. Not even sure if an apology will cut it,” he said, reaching out to stroke my hand. I recoiled and pulled my hand away involuntarily. “I’m sorry,” he said and changed the subject as an uncomfortable silence settled. “So, what else do you do when you’re not studying?”
“Nothing much,” I answered, not wanting to bore him with my mediocre life, especially since he was only asking me to be polite. I doubted he cared about my real life. He hadn’t when he’d fucked me and left me.
“No men?” he teased.
“No time,” I said flatly. What I really wanted to say was that there had never been another man after he broke my heart.
“No?” He had a hint of amusement in his tone. “So all you do is work and go to school?”
I looked at him to see if he was making fun of me, but his face was straight. He had termed what I was doing work instead of looking down on me as most people would have. The James I knew as a teen would not have put things so subtly. This James was a lot more mature.
“You don’t have to answer. It’s really none of my business,” he said, pulling out his phone to look at an incoming text. I looked at him and suddenly started laughing. “What?” he asked.
“Thank you,” I said.
“For?”
“For calling my hostess job real work.” He looked at me with raised eyebrows. “I mean, I’m obviously being paid to be your date. Most people don’t consider it work. So thank you for making light of things.”
“Sara, I know there has to be an obvious reason why you do this for a living, and I don’t want to judge. Besides, in my line of business, work is when someone provides goods or services and gets paid for it.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. Services? What other services was I expected to provide? I had to clarify the terms of our arrangement. A little too late, as I should have done that before I got into his car, but late was better than never. I looked out the window as the chauffeur expertly navigated the car toward the harbor. I was trying to find the best way to talk to him without pissing him off or losing the money I was expecting for the night. Yes, the money was still important to me.
“James, let’s put aside our past for a second. Okay? The people at Fox Wood Manor told me to keep you company within the manor. Now that we are outside of it, what services are you expecting?” My voice trailed off.
He looked at me, reached out, and brushed a loose strand of hair off my face, tucking it behind my ear. “What are you afraid of? You have my card, and I’m sure someone knows where you are. You came of your own will, right? Remember, it’s me, James, your stepbrother.”
“Ex-stepbrother,” I corrected, laughing.
He laughed and then grew serious. “Sara, I don’t expect anything from you. Even though it may not look like it right now, I’m still the same James you grew up with.”
I nodded. He was right, he was the James I grew up with. The James I lost my virginity to. The James I should stay away from. I nodded again, unable to talk. Did I really come here of my own will or did he somehow make me get into his limo? At least we were clear on one thing. I was doing this because I wanted to. Not because he expected me to, and not because he had paid for my company. I would not accept any payment from him except the money the manor owed me. That way, I could hold on to the little dignity I had left.
“Relax,” he said, touching my chin again. “I don’t bite.”
I didn’t wi
thdraw from him this time. His touch triggered a tingling all over my body. And even when he took his hands away from my chin, I could still feel warmth spreading through the rest of my body. I shifted uncomfortably as I realized my nipples were hard and straining against the fabric of my dress. I hadn’t realized that I was turned on by that simply touch, and I hoped he didn’t notice either.
“I’m not scared. I just wanted to make sure I know what to expect.”
“Expect nothing,” he said, his voice stern as if he was speaking to a naughty child.
“Oh, okay,” I replied. Had I overstepped my boundaries?
“So what about your dad? How is he?” He settled back and sank into the comfortable leather seat.
“He’s doing okay. Stayed back in New Jersey when I moved out here.”
“You like DC better?”
“Yes.” I couldn’t tell him that New Jersey held so many painful memories. Our parents’ divorce had put my dad on a straight collision with alcoholism. He couldn’t handle two divorces within the space of five years. I had moved to California right after high school but had returned to DC just to be closer to him.
“That’s good. I just moved to DC a few weeks ago. Trying to open a new factory here.”
I swallowed. That wasn’t good news, not for me. I wouldn’t survive with him so close to me, but I had to keep up appearances. “Oh, nice.”
“I’m excited about it. DC is a huge market waiting to be explored,” he said as he opened a little fridge I hadn’t noticed and pulled out a bottle of champagne.
“I can imagine,” I said. “I don’t get around much, though.”
“I see,” he said. “You’re busy.”
I looked at him, trying to decide if he was judging me or just making conversation, but I couldn’t tell. I used to be able to read his mind years ago.
