"Done."
"The culprit is going down."
CHAPTER 39
Charlie
Next day
“Knock, knock,” Terry chippers.
I lift my eyes to meet my assistant’s smiling ones.
“Since when do you knock?” I ask, amused.
“Well, my boss has been a bit gloomy lately, so I wanted to make sure I didn’t disturb her while she was deep in thought,” he says stepping into my office.
Wow. I didn’t realize I was that transparent.
"I've been preoccupied with coming up with the right publicity plan to help revamp Ludlow Abbey’s image," I lie.
"I see," he nods. “How was this morning's meeting with Reverend Nesmith?” Terry asks, taking a seat in front of my desk.
"The Reverend has so many ideas,” I force a laugh. “It's a question of reining them all and managing his expectations versus his budget."
"Of course. Clearly, they don't have as deep pockets as our other clients."
"Not even close. Still, it's a great honor that they picked us without even looking at any other firms."
"I agree."
"I want to do right by them."
"Knowing you, you'll over-deliver," he smiles.
"I aim to please," I grin wide.
"Sooooo…"
I frown my confusion. "Sooooo what?"
“Is Rowan Nesmith as much of a hottie in person as he is on his photos?" Terry asks.
"Why should you care? He's straight."
"Wash your mouth out with soap and water. Gay or straight, he’s still hot," Terry says. "You wouldn't believe how popular he is in the gay community. So many of us dream of corrupting him. Of course, I exclude myself from that list because I have a new fabulous man in my life, but for those who don't, hottie Rowan makes for some pretty salacious wet dreams. So I've been told."
"To answer your question, he's gorgeous. He’s super fit and he has a smile that could light up a room. He’s also very much devoted to God. Therefore, the rest of us don't have a hope in hell."
Terry explodes in laughter.
"Why are you laughing?"
"You say that as if you tried to drag him to the dark side," he laughs harder.
I don't respond. Instead, I avert my gaze.
"Charlie?"
"What?"
"Have you?"
"Have I what?" I play dumb.
"Woman, you know exactly what I'm talking about," Terry snaps.
I give him a one-shoulder shrug.
"No bloody way. You thought the Reverend could be your plaything?"
"I needed a distraction," I justify.
"That's funny. Usually, you only say that when—” Realization sinks in. "Oh no.” Terry rubs his face with the palm of his hand. "What has King Barrett done now?” I open my mouth to respond, but Terry stops me by raising his hand. “Weren’t you the one who was swearing up and down in Athens that you could handle him when I tried to voice my opinion?" I attempt to speak, but once again he doesn't allow me. "Don't answer yet. It’s best if you start from the beginning."
I let out a heavy sigh and launch into story mode.
I tell him about my magical time in Athens. Of course, I omit all the naughty bits.
I move on to my run-in with Octavia at Kaffeine.
Terry growls. He even shows teeth. No one’s a big fan of Bitch Octavia.
I'm honest about the fact that as much as I hate to admit it, her parting words got under my skin.
I tell him about the sudden change in Barrett and how he seems to be so distant lately—which only compounds matters.
I’m candid about how half my thoughts are occupied by wondering if that bitch was right, the other half has been consumed with every salacious moment I spent in Athens with Barrett.
I dive into my story with the Reverend, but halfway through, Terry stops me.
"What do you mean your first attempt failed?” he shrieks. “How many times did you try to seduce one of God's disciples?"
"Twice."
He nearly chokes.
"Girlfriend, your balls are bigger than mine.”
I laugh. "I thought Reverend Nesmith had remained impartial to my advances because I had committed a fashion faux pas when I first met him. Maybe a red outfit was a little too forward—”
"You wore fucking red to meet a man of the cloth?"
"From head to toe."
"Talk about sending a clear message."
"Obviously, it wasn't clear enough. The second time around, I opted for a demure classy black dress, which I paired with sensible mid heels."
“And it didn't work?"
"I was like an open book to him. Of course, he had no idea it was about Barrett, but he knew I was transferring whatever shit I was dealing with onto him."
"I don't understand. I thought things were relatively good between you and Barrett?"
"I thought so too." I pause because what I'm about to say is unbearable for me to admit. "Maybe he's moved his focus to someone else. I mean I've walked out on him so many times."
"Charlie, you aren't that easy to forget."
"I don't think it's that much of a challenge for Barrett," I say with a heavy heart.
"I'm sure this has to do with Jason Belvedere," Terry quips.
"I thought so too. I'm not so sure anymore. Until a few days ago, Barrett was sending me one-word responses to my text messages. I hated it, but I chalked it off to the asshole pop star and the fact that the record company must be still breathing down his neck—”
"I'm sure that’s it," Terry snaps his fingers.
"It's been crickets since yesterday. I’ve even left him voice messages. Several. They remain unanswered. Ditto for my text messages. Something happened. I just don’t know what." I pause again. "Maybe that brunette Octavia eluded to is in Athens right now shagging Barrett’s brains out.”
CHAPTER 40
Barrett
The next day
Tyler texted me at one o’clock requesting an urgent meeting. He didn't say much more, but given everything that's going on in my life, I didn't question him. I quickly gathered my things and called my chauffeur to let him know I was coming down. Fifteen minutes later my black Rolls-Royce slows down in front of La Trompette—one of London's finest French restaurants.
“I’ll text when I’m done,” I tell Maxfield as I meet his gaze in the rearview mirror.
“Very well, sir,” he nods.
I step out of the car and onto the pavement just in time to notice a silver Bentley pull up right behind my Rolls. Tyler steps out of his chauffeured car and greets me with a huge smile.
"It seems like I won't leave this meeting with a headache," I say as he approaches me.
"Trust me, mate, when we’re done, we’ll have to go out and celebrate," he says patting me on the back.
"After the shit that was thrown at me yesterday, I can use all the good news that comes my way."
"Then consider this your lucky day because a deluge is coming," Tyler mocks.
"Wow. Before I get my hopes up, does this have to do with my father’s evil half-family?"
"Abso-fucking-lutely."
"Now we’re talking."
"Shall we?" Tyler says extending an arm.
Tyler and I stroll into the restaurant. Once inside, it doesn't take us long to be seated. We’re regulars after all. For the occasion, Tyler reserved the private room. I must say I'm a little surprised given that it sits sixteen people.
"The daytime manager still has a thing for you?" I say when Pamela our waitress closes the door behind her.
"Despite the fact that I've been upfront about seeing Ava—and no longer on the market—Ashleigh is still flirting hard. I called to reserve a table in a corner so that we can have some privacy, but she insisted on putting my name against the private room. What can I say?" he chuckles.
"As long as you're not leading her along," I caution.
"Please. Ashleigh mistakes, ‘Thank you and
I'll see you next time’, with, ‘Fancy a romp? Your place or mine?’” I laugh. “She hears what she wants to hear."
"That’s hilarious," I say.
"Women." He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "Come on, let’s sit down. There's a lot for us to discuss."
“So what’s gotten you in such a good mood?” I ask as I take a seat across from Tyler.
“Before we get into that, have you been in touch with Charlie?”
He’s been badgering me about that since yesterday after our lunch, but I chose to ignore him.
When I don’t answer, Tyler presses.
“Mate, I asked you a question.”
“No.”
“Are you punishing her for those bloody photos?”
“I’m trying to deal with them the best I can, Ty. I can’t un-see her naked body under that guy. A different bloke from the first set of photos, may I remind you.”
“Barrett, she wasn’t cheating on you. You weren’t together. Remember you were #NatBar for the longest time," he chuckles.
"Wanker.”
“The blokes on the photos that were dropped on Felicity’s desk are Charlie’s recent and well-publicized relationships.”
“That may be the case, but I still can’t stomach them. Nor can I handle the idea that other men have been able to claim her that way.”
Do I sound like a caveman? Probably, but it’s Charlotte we’re talking about. Had it not been for my shitty circumstances, no other men would have ever been able to touch her naked body because I wouldn’t have had to protect her at any cost.
"Seriously, mate. Are you really going to let Archer and Cormac win? Are you going to allow those good-for-nothing people to push Charlie further away from you?”
“My head understands this is a warped situation. The rest of me is so fucking angry, I could burst an artery. I need to sort out my feelings before I talk to Charlotte. If not, I'm liable to say the wrong things. And I will make matters even worse. You know me, I have to compartmentalize to function."
"Don't wait too long. Charlie doesn't deserve the cold shoulder."
"Is this a meeting with my psychotherapist or my best friend and lawyer?" I sneer.
"This is how you want to play this game, mate?" Tyler's tone edges on the verge of insolence. He doesn't give me a chance to answer. "All right. Let’s move onto—"
"Tyler. Don't."
He seers me with a stern glare for a few long seconds.
“After scoping out Marlon’s neighborhood, we’re set to raid his house in the middle of the night," he announces.
Since he's all business, so am I. "Really?"
"We’re ready. Everything is in place."
I drop my back against my seat and let out a long exhale. "This is finally happening?"
"It took us a little longer than expected because we had to find a workaround just in case the owner of the house Marlon is renting felt the urge to call the City. The same applies to the neighbors. We couldn’t leave anything to chance."
"What do you mean?"
Tyler opens his mouth to say something, but changes his mind when someone knocks on the door.
"Come in," we both shout.
After giving the waitress our drink and food orders, my best friend picks up where he left off. Given how tense I am, I had to order a double whiskey.
"We needed to have a pretty good reason that would justify extensive damage to the house."
"I still don't follow. Did you place an investigator on the inside at City Hall?"
"No. That would've been too complicated. And the potential for mistakes was too great. We had to be a little more strategic."
"So how did you do it?"
"We hacked the City’s computer system."
Tyler's answer takes me aback. "Holy shit."
"Yeah. We had to. That was the only way we were able to cover our tracks. If the owner calls, any City employee who picks up the phone can do a quick search and confirm that his house in on a watchlist. Problem solved.”
"Smart."
"Our investigators are going to ransack that place to find those photos. Who knows what might happen? Walls might have to get broken into in our search for a safe. Ditto for stairs, attics, closets and floors. And of course, freezers. Pretty much anywhere a crook would hide things. A potential gas leak that could lead to a fire or worse—a dangerous explosion—will get us the green light from an owner who wants to make sure nothing happens to his property. He’ll gladly open the door to his rental so we can conduct a proper investigation." Tyler's evil grin speaks volumes.
"Brilliant," I say. "How did you come up with that idea?"
"Alas, it isn't mine." We both laugh. "The lead investigator is the one who came up with it. It should give us enough time to scour the house from top to bottom and flip every last piece of furniture over. We'll take possession of whatever photos that scumbag has hidden by dawn tomorrow morning," Tyler says.
His conviction is unwavering.
For the first time in two years, I feel like I'm on the verge of winning part of this nasty battle.
"Now I understand why you sent Marlon to the other side of the planet."
"Exactly. Marlon Holloway thinks that he's in Argentina tracking down Minister Stewart Bootham to catch him with his pants down. Little does he know that the minister was indeed in LA, but he's now in Hawaii. Not South America."
"Well, you're right, this calls for a celebration," I clap my hands together.
"There's more."
"By all means. Don't let me stop you. Clearly, you’re on a roll," I grin.
"I told you, when I'm done with Cormac and Archer there will be practically nothing much left to them. I might even find a way to rid them of their shriveled balls."
I explode in laughter. I laugh for solid minute before I'm able to compose myself again.
"The visual is priceless."
"Don't think I haven't thought about it," Tyler says without a shred of humor.
"What else have you uncovered?"
"I could’ve fired off a text or an email, but I wanted to do this in person."
"I thought this was a ‘good news’ kind of day.” I form quotation marks.
“I’d never break my promise to you, mate," he smiles. "The mountain of irrefutable evidence against Newton Himes is nearing Mount Kilimanjaro levels.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
“Like a bloody heart attack."
"This has been a long time in the making. I never thought we’d get to this point."
"I’m worse than a police dog on a perpetrator. Once Himes finds out we’re onto his shady practices, he'll squeal like a schoolgirl and rat on the evil Ascotts at the prospect of facing jail time.”
Newton Himes was the accountant hired by Archer and Cormac. They secured his services about a year before my father passed. I wanted to replace Himes, but the two monkeys insisted on handling that part of the business. Since I was in over my head at the time, I made the mistake of agreeing.
“Those two are vile excuses for human beings," I spit out.
“You’re not going to get an argument from me,” Tyler says, lifting his hands up in truce.
“I can't believe they’d stoop this low because they refuse to accept that I’m my father’s sole legal heir and that’s the end of it,” I say, shaking my head.
“Believe it, mate. Archer and Cormac were not only intentionally double billing your clients and passing weekends at the Crazy Horse in Paris—a Parisian cabaret filled with nude women—as business expenses, they were also using Newton to defraud you. It’s mind-boggling what a duplicitous accountant can do.”
"I just want to kill all three of them," I say.
“Don’t worry, Barrett. They’ll pay for doing you wrong. I'm not letting go until I see blood.” Disgust laces Tyler's words.
CHAPTER 41
Charlie
Thursday
Despite my heart’s warning, despite the alarm bells ringing in m
y head, despite the fact that I know history has a nasty way of repeating itself, I allowed myself to believe that Athens was a turning point for Barrett and I. How stupid of me. I left Greece a little over two weeks ago and Barrett is quickly becoming a distant memory.
I don’t know how I find the strength to move on after yet another Ascott blow, but I do. I lose myself in work, networking events and my best friend’s new blossoming love life. Lucky her. Now that we’re both back in London after traveling extensively for business, I’ve been spending a lot of time with Amelia. There was so much to catch up on.
I can manage fine when I keep myself busy. When I get home, it’s more challenging to keep up the charade. I spend my nights pretending that I don’t desperately miss Barrett and that I wouldn’t sell a vital organ to be in his arms again. Needless to say it doesn't work.
After a morning packed with meetings, I come back from lunch ready to attack my to-do list to avoid thinking about why suddenly Barrett has been calling and texting with a vengeance since this morning. When I push the door open to my office, Terry and Derek, aka my assistant’s new sexy MD boyfriend, are cooing at each other. Determined to ignore the fact that everyone in the world seems to have an easier time at this relationship thing than I do, I mumble a quick hello to the lovebirds before heading to my office.
“Charlie, is everything okay?” Terry asks as I rush past his desk.
“Everything is peachy,” I snort.
“Are you sure?”
I stop in my tracks and turn to face him and Derek.
“If I say everything is fine, then it is.”
“Right.”
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have loads of work to do.” I resume on my mission, but his next words freeze me in place.
“King Barrett called while you were away. Six times. It’s a record.”
I’m not sure what game Barrett is playing. For two weeks he ignores me and now he can’t wait to talk to me? Whatever. I haven't bothered getting back to him. I don’t have time for shit like that.
“You can tell King Barrett to go fuck himself,” I say, turning around again.
You're All I Think About_Second Chance Romance Page 30
