by Tate, Sennah
“This is too much,” I muttered, tears springing to my eyes for what felt like the dozenth time that day.
Clara busied herself turning down my bed and I stood in the doorway still in shock.
“What was that?” She asked, fluffing the pillows.
“This is too much,” I repeated more forcefully.
“I don’t even know Bryce… Mr. Dorian,” I amended, “this is too generous.”
The housekeeper frowned at me with her hands on her hips.
“You may not know Mr. Dorian, but I do. If he is doing all of this for you, there’s a reason. He obviously thinks that you’re special, so you should just settle in.”
My lip quivered and a lonely tear trickled down my face.
“Oh, sweetie,” Clara said with a maternal tone. Her arms wrapped around me in the fiercest hug I’d ever had.
“Why don’t you come over here and tell Clara all about it?”
A soft rap on the door announced Francis’ presence with a sandwich. My stomach rumbled loudly, reminding me just how empty it was.
The next thing I knew, I was telling the pair everything between bites of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Chapter 10
I paced around my bedroom like a lion in a cage. It was a mistake to bring her here. She’d taken one look at my house and my staff and jumped to a million conclusions about me. I could see her judgments all over her face.
That’s why I didn’t even want to tell her about my money. There were plenty of times that being a billionaire came in handy; finding a decent woman wasn’t one of them. The women that cared about my money weren’t women that I was interested in, and the women that didn’t care about my money couldn’t ever seem to see past it.
“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid,” I raged as I hurled the closest thing to me — a vase — across the room. It made impact with the wall and shattered into a thousand pieces.
I kept seeing her bewildered look. That look that said a million things that Marcie would never say aloud. It replayed in my head stuck on a loop, eating at me each time. There had to be a way to show her that I wasn’t that guy. I wasn’t some stuck up rich fucker that couldn’t tell the difference between the smell of a daffodil and his own farts. I was in no position to judge anyone about their upbringing or education. I wasn’t the man she assumed I was.
But maybe I should just leave Marcie alone. She’d been through enough without me trying to take advantage of her. If I pressed it, she may feel like she doesn’t have a choice. For the moment, she was reliant on me and pursuing anything with her would be highly immoral.
There had to be a way to make this work, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure it out. My head pounded; I was exhausted, my body even more so. A shower and a good night’s sleep would help me think my way out of this. Well, a shower, a drink, and a good night’s sleep.
I took the fastest shower known to man, barely able to move enough to clean myself, and poured myself a drink as I toweled off. I carried the drink as far as my nightstand, but the moment my head hit the pillow I was asleep.
It had been many years since I’d last left a glass of liquor untouched. Even more years since I woke up after eight solid hours of sleep. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d slept without a nightmare. As embarrassing as that is to admit for a man in his thirties.
My first waking thoughts were of Marcie. I glanced at the clock and realized it was afternoon and cursed. I didn’t mean to sleep so late. I could only imagine how confused and timid she was when she first woke up. I hoped that she got breakfast and was finding ways to entertain herself in my absence.
I yawned and stretched, hissing at the sharp pain in my side. I examined my injury, frowning at the dark bruise like that would scare it away. I didn’t care about being hurt, but I could think of a few people that would lecture me for it.
Speaking of which, I grabbed my phone, preparing myself for the disaster I was going to find.
20 missed calls. 35 new text messages. 5 new voicemails.
“Jesus, Tanner,” I griped, not bothering to listen to any of the messages before calling him back.
“Oh, you’re alive,” he answered. His voice sounded like an echo.
“Yeah, of course I am.”
My bedroom door opened and Tanner stepped through, hanging up the phone.
“Well, it’s not like you’d tell me about your funeral or anything.”
I rolled my eyes, getting dressed quickly.
“Whoever let you in here is fired.”
His warm rich laughter made me smile and eased his tension.
“You wouldn’t fire Clara even if you were dirt poor,” he teased.
I made a show of frowning.
“Damn. You got me there. Why are you here?”
“Did you listen to any of those messages I left you?”
“No. I never do. I know you’ll just tell me everything again anyway.” I could tell by the twitch in his jaw that he wanted to hit me. He might’ve done it if it weren’t for the giant purple splotch covering half of my body.
“I got a lead. A real lead,” he added after seeing my incredulous look.
“I’m not interested today.” I buttoned up my shirt and tried to make myself look half-way presentable. I knew I should shave, but that was only one more thing keeping me from seeing Marcie.
I wanted to know how she’d slept. I wanted to make sure that she was okay. That she wasn’t the fabulous creation of my cruel imagination. I needed to know that she was real and really here and not leaving before I had my chance. Yes, I’d decided not to pursue her, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make her want to pursue me.
“Since when are you not interested in a lead?”
I shot him a warning look. He didn’t heed the warning.
“Oh, right, since little miss superhero fell into your lap. It’s not like you to just forget about everything for a woman, Bryce.”
“Weren’t you just telling me yesterday that I needed to drop this whole search thing?”
“This is different. You’re exchanging one obsession for another. You don’t know anything about this girl and you’re letting her turn your life upside down.”
My hand clenched against my will. I knew he didn’t mean it. He didn’t have anything against Marcie; he was just looking out for me.
Finally, I sighed, realizing that he was right. I couldn’t go from one extreme to the other. I needed to give Marcie space, and give myself space from her.
“What’s the lead?”
A huge grin split his face.
“It’s in D.C.”
“What, really?” Not only did the location have major implications as to who my father really was, but it also meant I would have to spend a significant amount of time away from Marcie.
“Yeah, crazy right? Do you think he’s in government?”
I shrugged.
“It fits, I guess. I’m not going to make any assumptions though until I talk to this lead of yours. When am I supposed to meet them?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Shit,” I groaned, thinking about leaving Marcie all alone.
“What?” Tanner obviously hadn’t made the connection.
“Marcie.”
“Ugh. You need to cut her loose, man.”
A fury-fueled fire burned in my eyes. He held up his hands in an apologetic gesture.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sure she’ll be fine here for a day or two, right?”
I nodded, trying to come up with a plan.
“I’m going to take her with me.”
“What? Have you lost your ever-loving mind?”
“No, of course not. What’s wrong with it?”
“For all we know, she could work for him. She could tell him everything you find out.”
“Tanner, if my father wanted me scared off of his trail, why would he hire a girl to save me from a mugger? That seems a little counter-productive…”
He tried to think of
a retort, but came up empty.
“Fine, but I still think this is a terrible idea. The whole thing.”
“Your objections have been noted. Now kindly fuck off.”
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he left my bedroom. We’d been verbally abusing each other like that for the last twenty years. We were brothers, not by blood, but by a bond stronger than blood. He knew that I valued his opinion; I just couldn’t brush Marcie aside that easily, whether I could explain it or not.
I practically sprinted down the stairs looking for Marcie. I found Francis first, and asked him to make all of the necessary arrangements for our stay in D. C.
“Shall I book one room, or two, sir?” Francis asked slyly.
“The presidential suite has two bedrooms, doesn’t it?”
He nodded a confirmation, already dialing the hotel.
I found Clara next.
“I’m looking for Marcie, have you seen her?”
“She hasn’t left her room all morning, Mr. Dorian. The morning sickness is bothering her and I think she’s embarrassed.”
My brows furrowed at the information. I never wanted Marcie to feel anything other than at home here. My money couldn’t fix morning sickness, but maybe a trip would help take her mind off of things.
I knocked on her door softly.
“Marcie? It’s me… Bryce,” I announced.
After a moment, she opened the door a crack, just enough to peek out.
“Hi, how are you feeling? Clara mentioned you didn’t feel well…”
“I’m okay,” she answered weakly. She looked pale, making the dark bruise covering her face all the more shocking.
“Can I come in?”
She looked down at her feet and stepped back from the door allowing me entrance. I felt perverted for appreciating the generous swell of her breasts under her tight top. She was sick and I was here ogling her.
“Normally this passes after a couple of hours. I just didn’t realize it was morning sickness until today,” her smile took a lot of effort, but I could tell it was genuine.
“Well, I wanted to talk to you about something,” she stiffened, anticipating something heinous, no doubt.
“Nothing bad,” I added hastily. She visibly relaxed and I continued. “I have to go on a business trip to Washington D. C., and I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me. The meeting is tomorrow, but we could fly in tonight, have dinner…?” Saying it out loud, I felt like it sounded more desperate.
“But if you’re not feeling up to it, I understand,” I added quickly, giving her an out.
“No! I’d love to go! Are you really sure you want me to?”
In an instant I went from defeated to on top of the Moon.
“Yes. Of course I’m sure. Otherwise I’d be stuck alone in a hotel room by myself.”
She looked at me, her mahogany eyes the size of saucers at the implication she thought my words held.
“Not like that. We’ll have separate bedrooms in the suite. I would never try to take advantage of you, Marcie.” I couldn’t shake the feeling that she looked almost disappointed at that. Maybe she hadn’t made so many assumptions about me.
“Well, it’s already nearly five o’clock on the east coast, so I’ll make our dinner reservations for around nine?”
She nodded mutely. I wondered what was going through that pretty head of hers. She looked conflicted, as if she wanted to say something but was afraid to.
“What is it, Marcie?” I prodded.
“Well… it’s just that…” she fidgeted with the edge of her tank top, struggling to make eye contact with me.
“Whatever it is, I promise I will take care of it.”
She nibbled on her lip in that delectable way that I was beginning to adore.
“I don’t have anything to wear.”
Without hesitation, I whipped my wallet out and handed her my black card.
“Buy anything you want.”
“No, I couldn’t do that…”
“Okay, give your sizes to Clara and she’ll have the concierge get you something suitable.”
“Bryce… I don’t want your money. As much as I appreciate your generosity, it just doesn’t feel right.”
It was my turn to be unsure of what to say. I wasn’t used to this feeling. No one was able to catch me off-guard. No one was able to make me speechless. Marcie had done so on multiple occasions now.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” I didn’t know how to tell her that my money didn’t mean anything without sounding pretentious.
Her hand rested on my arm. Heat surged through me at her gentle touch.
“It’s okay. It’s just a lot.” She was close to me now. So close. If I moved an inch forward I could press her soft body against mine. I could feel her breath caress the edge of my collar. Her lips parted and I wanted desperately to kiss her senseless.
I couldn’t though. I didn’t want her to feel like she had to sleep with me to have a place to stay. I took a step back, her hand fell from my arm and I felt its absence immediately. The place where it laid was now cold and emptiness seeped through me.
“How about we just order room service, then?”
A bright smile lit up her face.
“That sounds perfect!”
“Oh, good. We’ll leave in an hour.”
Chapter 11
I still couldn’t believe it. Yesterday, I was a waitress in a dirty diner and today I was sitting on a private jet. Yes, me. Marcie Gallagher, on a private jet. The whole thing was so ridiculous that if it hadn’t happened to me, I never would have believed it.
I’d never been on an airplane before. Hell, I’d never been out of the state before and here I was flying across the country.
Bryce purposefully avoided my subtle prodding into his wealth. I wasn’t looking to take advantage of him or scheming to try and part him from his money, I just wanted to know what I was dealing with. Did he have a high-society family that would point fingers at me and call me an opportunist? With the way he threw money around, he could be royalty for all I knew.
My eyes stayed glued to the window the entire trip. There was something magical about seeing the world in miniature. Viewing the clouds from above filled me with this unexplainable feeling of contentment. Everything was so tiny; a million lives, houses, heart breaks and triumphs were miles below me. It made my problems seem less important.
Bryce was busy with paperwork and hadn’t said anything to me since we’d arrived at the airstrip. I was starting to realize that he oscillated between hot and cold faster than a snowstorm in the Sahara. I couldn’t quite get a read on him, but I finally decided that I would just stop worrying about it.
So many times in my life, I meticulously planned everything only to have it later blow up in my face. Every time I tried to control things, they only spun further out of control. It was time that I learned my lesson and just let life happen.
Despite the flutter I felt in my chest every time he said my name, I didn’t think there was any possibility of anything ever happening between us. It was probably for the best though. I had a baby to think about. I didn’t need to be jumping right into another relationship with a man I barely knew just because my body responded to him in ways that made me uneasy.
Regardless of what happened, this would make one hell of a story for my baby’s first flight. I couldn’t believe how quickly the time passed. Before I knew it, the well-lit monuments and city streets came into view.
As we descended the stairs from the plane, Bryce gave a few instructions to the pilot and then turned his attention to me.
“Did you have a pleasant flight?”
“Yes, it was very exciting.”
He smiled distractedly and ushered me to the waiting town car.
“I hope you don’t mind missing out on the sights.”
I shook my head.
“That’s all right. I don’t think I really want to be out in public looking like thi
s,” I gestured to my battered face.
“Nonsense. You look fantastic.”
Again, my heart skipped a beat. Of course he didn’t mean it like that. He was only being polite. I was so desperate to be wanted that I was eager to latch onto the smallest comment to try to make it into something more. I needed to stop. It was plenty that Bryce was being so generous; there was no need for me to expect or want more from him. He’d been nothing but a perfect gentleman since we met.
I tried to appear nonchalant, betraying how much his words really affected me.
“Be that as it may, I’m the kind of girl that prefers a quiet night in, anyway.”
“A girl after my own heart,” he said with a breath-taking grin.
Inwardly, I cursed. It shouldn’t be possible for one smile to make my mouth dry and my hands clammy. It was ridiculous that one off-hand comment could make my heart leap into my throat.
I was still grieving over my lost relationship with Kevin. I was still adjusting to the loss of my job and my home. I still hadn’t come to terms with my pregnancy. Bryce was handsome, charming, and kind to me; it made sense that I would try to use him as a distraction from facing my real problems. Still, I owed it to myself and my baby to focus on putting my life back together. Mooning over this man, regardless of how gorgeous he was, wasn’t going to help me pick myself up.
“So, what kind of meeting do you have here?” I asked, wanting to avoid any awkward silences.
His face tightened immediately. I could almost see the wall come down in his eyes to keep me out. I’d obviously struck a nerve or touched on something I wasn’t supposed to, but I had no idea what.
“Nothing important. Business.”
I nodded, feeling like I’d been reprimanded.
“Do you come to D. C. Often?” I asked, hoping that it was a safer topic.
“Once or twice. I don’t do much traveling, to be honest.”
“What? Why? You have your own jet,” I exclaimed in disbelief.
His answering chuckle wrapped around me like a warm blanket and helped me relax. All the tension that filled the car only a moment ago was gone.
