Dirty Rich Cinderella Story

by Jones, Lisa Renee

  “Is she going to do it?” Cat asks.

  “I don’t know,” I say, “but if she does, I hope it’s the right decision. I hope I’m not helping some kind of player play her.” I rotate and lift my cup off the tray, pouring powdered creamer inside, and taking a sip. “I sent you a cheat sheet for tonight, Cole,” I say, trying to get back to business. “It should be in your email.”

  Cole sets his cup on the counter. “I need a minute before we go, Reese.” He doesn’t wait for a reply. “Let’s go talk before I leave, Lori.”

  Adrenaline surges through me. My “back to business” gave him an opening that I won’t deny I knew would exist, and he’s taken it and quickly. I nod, and ignore my coffee, and trying to seem as normal as I can, I point at Cat. “Send me the file,” and quickly turn to follow Cole.

  I exit the kitchen and he motions me forward down the hallway. We pass the bathroom where I took that pregnancy test when I thought I might be the mother of his child. It reminds me of the torment one night had caused me, but it’s not one night anymore. We enter the foyer where we pause on the other side of the wall, a hallway between us and anyone else in the apartment, where we can hear footsteps, and not be seen.

  Cole steps around to face me, big and broad, and every bit as overwhelming as he always is, and I like that about him far too much to be his employee. He advances on me and I hit the wall, his hands pressed to the wall on either side of me as they were in the stairwell. His piercing blue eyes fix on me, seconds ticking by where I want him to touch me when I shouldn’t want him to touch me, passing like hours.

  “What are you doing, Cole?” I whisper.

  “I’m trying not to touch you and it’s fucking killing me.”

  He says it with such low, fierce, pained intensity that it’s all I can do not to touch him “Stop.” I say and I’m not sure if I’m talking to him or me.

  “I’m not doing this, sweetheart, we are.”

  “You shouldn’t call me sweetheart.”

  “All right. Lori. Is that better?”

  “Not when you say it like you’re thinking about us being naked together again.”

  “I am thinking about us being naked together again and so are you and don’t say I’m your boss. I get it. I know how hard you’ve worked. I know what this job means to you. I will protect you. I will help you. But we aren’t going to stop wanting each other.”

  “I’m a challenge,” I say, voicing a concern I’ve tried to bury, but it refuses to be hidden. “That’s what this is.”

  His hands come down on my waist, scorching me where they rest. “You still think I’m a player?” he demands. “Is that what that was in the kitchen?”

  My hands go to his hands. “No. That was me saying that I’m sorry for not asking you about that woman. I’m sorry for assuming you were with her, but let’s be real here. I am a challenge. I’m the one that got away and if you once again have me—”

  “I’ll want you again. And again.” He lowers his head, cheek next to mine, lips at my ear. “And again.”

  Heat rushes through me but I manage to whisper. “You can’t know that.”

  He pulls back, and his lips linger above mine. “I do know. Come home with me tonight and I’ll make you believe that.”

  “Cole—”

  He kisses me, a deep slide of tongue that has me melting, in every possible way before he says. “After the party. Say yes.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Lori

  Standing in the foyer with Cole’s hands on my body, his breath a warm trickle on my cheek, I feel like this is déjà vu of the night we met, only instead of a spanking, he’s asking for more. That spanking had been a getaway, a daring night that had no consequences until now. Going home with him has consequences. It means I’m sleeping with my boss. It means my career and my love life become tied together. Nevertheless, Cole really does feel like everything I have ever wanted in one perfect package. I want to say yes. I want to know where this goes, but right when I’m about to throw caution to the wind, just when I open my mouth to say yes, heavy footsteps head in our direction.

  “You’re coming home with me,” Cole says, as if he’s read my unspoken answer, and he’s unwilling to allow me to change my mind. With that command, and it is a command, he releases me, and puts a good two steps between us.

  Desperate to appear professional, I quickly say, and not quietly, “Did you want to go over that cheat sheet I emailed you for the party guests?”

  “Not necessary,” Cole says, his lips giving a sexy little curve as he adds, “I’ll have you by my side keeping me in check, I’m sure.”

  I’m still way too warm and ready for this man, and that is not good considering Reese rounds the corner. “That client I told you I was on the fence about,” he says, focused on Cole. “He wants to meet for coffee this morning.”

  Cole motions to his clothes. “We’re not dressed for a meeting. He can’t come to the party?”

  “If this guy is innocent, I want to help him,” he says. “But something is holding me back. I’d like to give him some time. I told him we’re on our way to run. He doesn’t care about how we’re dressed.”

  “All right then,” Cole says. “Let’s do it.” He looks at me. “I’ll pick you up for the party at six.”

  “I would say that won’t be necessary,” I say quickly, eager to sidestep any idea of this man coming to my crap apartment, a reminder that we are not equals. We are not the same. We are not right now. “Cat is never going to let me leave in time to change at home.” And because he’s obviously going to ask about my change of clothes, I reluctantly head him off with, “And I’m wearing one of her dresses anyway.”

  His expression doesn’t shift, but I feel the probe in his stare. “All right then,” he says, this time to me before he glances at Reese. “We headed out now?”

  “We are,” Reese says, glancing at me. “Take care of my girl.”

  “You know I will.”

  “I do, actually,” he says. “And I appreciate it.”

  With that, they head to the door and disappear. The minute the door shuts, I breathe out, and not with relief. Those two just suck all the air in the room and you have to hold onto what you have. Like I need to hold on with Cole, but I’m not sure if that means hold onto him or hold onto my determination to not be “that” girl sleeping with her boss.

  Right now though, Cat needs me and Lord only knows I owe her the world in friendship and support. She is fast becoming a sister. I round the corner and quickly make my way to the kitchen. I find her at the island, frowning at her computer screen.

  “It sucks,” she says.

  “Are we doing this again?” I ask, crossing to grab my coffee that is now cold.

  “We never stopped doing this,” she says.

  I stick my coffee in the microwave. “Have you found another assistant?” I ask. “Because being overwhelmed has to be part of this.”

  “No,” she says. “I can’t find anyone worth hiring.”

  “Tell me about it,” I say, grabbing my coffee and joining her again. “I’m looking for an assistant for Cole. Do you want me to keep an eye out for you, too?”

  “Yes, please,” she says, setting her MacBook aside. “I don’t know how this city is this populated and we have no one worth hiring.”

  “Just use me until you find someone,” I say, sipping my coffee.

  Her rejection is instant. “I’m not going to do that to you. You have a new boss and a new career.”

  And a whole lot more, I think. “How close are you to done with the book?” I ask, setting her up for my next point I plan to make.

  “A few chapters,” she says, “but it’s not right. I know when it’s not right.”

  “A new assistant can’t learn and help at this late stage,” I say. “It makes sense for me to help. I love this project. I want to help.”

  Her expression is conflicted. “I’ll pay you.”

  “You already paid me,” I say. “Wi
th help and friendship in all kinds of ways.” I key my MacBook to life. “Did you send me the file?”

  “Not yet,” she says, but she makes no move to do so now. Instead, she just looks at me.

  “What?”

  “I’m waiting to hear the real scoop on you and Cole.”

  “Why did I know this was going to be an issue today?” I ask, buying time to think. I want to tell her, desperately want to tell her, but Cat is married to Reese, and this feels like it needs to be between me and Cole; at least for now.

  “You and Cole are throwing flames together. I’ve never seen either of you charge a room in the presence of another person you aren’t even touching.”

  I don’t deny the truth. I might not tell Cat everything but I’m not lying to her. “Okay. Fine. We have a little spark.”

  “Not little,” she says. “A big, big flame. What’s the real story with you two?”

  “We aren’t going to work until we get past this, are we?”

  “Nope. Not a chance in hell. And why wouldn’t you tell me? We’re fast becoming like sisters.”

  She’s right. We are, and I love her to pieces. I just don’t want to lie to her or ignore Cole’s right to privacy either. “I literally ran into him outside your building a few months back,” I say, giving her something, and a portion of the truth, at that. “I dropped my garment bag in the process and he helped me pick it up,” I add. “He asked me out for coffee and I declined and now he’s my boss. Neither of us knew until we saw each other at the office.”

  “Oh wow,” she says. “How weird was that for you and him?”

  “Actually, it’s fine. We talked about it and we’re past it.”

  “Yes, but you’re not. You have chemistry with him. I can’t believe you turned him down when he asked you out just based on that alone. Not to mention the fact that he’s an incredible guy and so good-looking, and you never date. I mean, my God, you should have at least made that one night stand with him, not some other guy.”

  She’s obviously trying to find out if Cole was my one night stand, and I’m not going there. It’s not my secret alone. “How would that work?” I ask, sticking to the day I’ve admitted to meeting Cole. “Hey, sexy stranger. I just finished a job, have another to go to before I check on my sick mother, but about eleven I could pencil you and I in for sexy time.”

  She crinkles her nose. “You could have at least gone for coffee.”

  “Come on, Cat. I couldn’t think about a one night stand at that point in time. And what if it had become more? A girl like I was then, struggling, with no money, is either a charity case to a guy like Cole or someone who he thinks is after his money.”

  “That’s crazy,” she says. “You have the world before you.”

  “More so now, yes,” I say, “but we’re talking about when I first met Cole. That day, when I turned him down, everything was uncertain. I wouldn’t have wanted that imbalance. It would have affected us both.”

  “And now?”

  “We’re back to he’s my boss. That’s pretty imbalanced.”

  “You can move to Reese’s team,” she says. “Now or at any point.”

  “Reese’s team is full. Cole needs me. And the truth is, we connect more than physically. I can tell we’re going to get each other professionally. I studied his cases and track record. I’m lucky to get to work with him and learn from him.”

  “Okay. Let’s just be straight with each other. When there’s the kind of spark you two have, it’s going to win.” I open my mouth to object and she holds up a hand. “Don’t say otherwise because this kind of attraction has a life of its own. So just entertain what I’m saying to you, okay?”

  “Yes. Okay.”

  “What if he’s your Reese?”

  “Cat—”

  “You said you’d listen.”

  I purse my lips and she continues, “It starts with the kind of attraction you’ve never felt before. Intense. Uncontrollable. Palpable, like it is with you two. So, what I want to say to you is this: Cole is a good man. He will not let whatever this is with you two, hurt you. He won’t. And neither will Reese.”

  “I don’t want to be the girl who slept her way to the top.”

  “Be the girl who killed it in court and wins and that won’t happen. And if Cole wasn’t as damn good as he is, Reese wouldn’t have partnered with him.”

  “I will,” I say. “We will.”

  “Just communicate with him and us,” she says. “You’re with us and him. If you were with another firm, I’d give you different advice. But you’re not. It’ll be okay.”

  “Thanks, Cat.”

  “What are friends for?”

  “Exactly,” I say. “So, send me your book.”

  She pulls her Mac back in front of her and powers it up. “Here you go,” she sighs, punching a key on her computer. “Sent. Now I’m going to go pull out a few dresses you might like to try on. I can’t watch you read and I don’t want you to be nervous about what you can or can’t wear.” She disappears, and I flashback to the moment on the street when I’d walked away from Cole, and how much regret I’d felt. I’m where I belong and I’m going to stay the path. He’s in my path. I grab my phone from my purse and stare at Cole’s number, and finally I type: Can you call me sometime before the party?

  He replies almost instantly: We’re about to meet with this potential client. I’ll call you after that before we run.

  Can you text me first so I can go somewhere private?

  Yes. Of course. Is this about your rules?

  I consider that a moment and then reply with: I don’t know, Cole. I just want to talk to you.

  I’ll call soon, he replies.

  I’m not sure what I’m going to say to him besides giving him a heads up about what I told Cat. I’m not sure what I want him to say to me. No. That’s wrong. I want him to say something that makes going home with him tonight somehow as acceptable as he made me saying yes to that spanking. I want to be close to him again. I want to be naked with him again. I want to go home with Cole.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Lori

  I stick my phone back in my purse, and do my best to set aside my one-time Prince Charming with mad bedroom and courtroom skills, and start reading Cat’s manuscript, and in a matter of a minute, I’m absorbed in a case that has long intrigued me; June Smith, a college-aged girl, was convicted of killing her dorm mate, and sentenced to death row. She died of cancer while in prison, and now, five years later, she’s innocent, and a now deceased janitor for the school was the killer.

  I’m a good portion through the parts of the book I haven’t read when Cat shows back up. “Well?” she asks, sitting back down.

  “It’s amazing,” I assure her. “This story is mind blowing in so many ways; tragic and compelling, and you embrace that in every way.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. Of course. You have hordes of fans for your column and books for a reason. Deep down, you know you nailed this and you’ll embrace that too, once you get past the deadline. That’s how you work. I’ve seen it with every big project you start.”

  “Maybe,” she concedes. “What about comments? I always love your comments.”

  “I did mark a few places that concern me. Some of the research I did right before I left isn’t connecting.”

  “Tell me,” she says eagerly, because that’s Cat. She is all about telling the best story.

  We start going through the sections I’ve marked, and hours pass in which I can’t help but anticipate Cole’s call that doesn’t come. He’s either still in his meeting or just can’t talk freely, and I’d rather wait than rush with him, anyway. Just as long as we can talk before I’m faced with tonight’s decision, I’ll be happy.

  It’s near noon when we both shove down bagels and try to wrap up. “I still need an interview with the twin brother,” Cat says. “This is his sister, and his life was torn apart as well.”

  “He told me he’d talk to you,”
I say. “I pre-screened him weeks ago.”

  She holds her hands up. “I know, but he changed his tune. He won’t talk to me. I’ve tried. I’ve given up.”

  “I connected with him,” I say, grabbing a file on the counter to look up his number. “I’ll call him and see if I can recreate that and convince him to talk to you.”

  “Thank you,” she says. “But FYI, my public persona seems to really turn him off and I get it. He’s been abused by the press.”

  “He has,” I say. “And some pretty horrible things were said about his sister, and even assumed about him as her twin.”

  “Exactly,” she says. “He had to leave his employer and do contract computer programming. It ruined his life and hers.”

  “Which is why he needs to speak out,” I say, punching his number in my cell phone, and he answers quickly. “Hello.”

  “Dillon, hi. This is Lori Havens. Do you remember me? We spoke once before.”

  “I remember you. You’re working on that book with Cat Summer.”

  “I just read the book,” I say, baiting his curiosity, infusing my voice with the excitement I genuinely feel for the project.

  “And?”

  “It would be perfect if it had your viewpoint,” I say. “How can Cat tell this story without showing how the failure of the justice system destroyed everyone in your circle? We need to make sure this doesn’t happen to other people.”

  “How do I know that’s how she’ll represent this?” he demands. “I don’t want to be a pawn, used for headlines and scandal.”

  I look at Cat. “I think you should ask her that question. Look into Cat’s eyes, and I promise you, you’ll know she’s a good person. Read her ‘Cat Does Crime’ columns. She’s the right voice to tell this story.”

  “I’ve read her stuff,” he says. “It seems okay.”

  “Then you’ll talk to her?” I ask, seeing his reply as an olive branch. “Just talk to her, interview her.”

  “I’ll talk to you.”

  “Can I bring her?”

  “Yes,” he says sounding irritated. “Bring her. This afternoon.”