Beauty and the Boss (Modern Fairytales)

by Diane Alberts

  She swept off without another word.

  He dialed Maggie’s number and prayed like hell that he wasn’t too late. That she hadn’t gotten on the plane yet.

  She couldn’t leave him. He couldn’t let her. He loved her.

  As the phone rang, he stared at a paper on the floor, squinting at the tiny print. The dates…they were off. This was dated a little over six years ago, right before his father had passed away. He blinked, just in case the booze was fucking with his head.

  It wasn’t. These were old figures.

  “What the hell?” he muttered, bending down and picking it up.

  “That was uncalled for,” his mother said, making him jump and curse under his breath. The paper floated back to the floor. He let it. “She’s always been a nice girl. Far too nice for a spoiled brat such as yourself.”

  He turned to his mother, the phone still held to his ear. “Jesus Christ. How long have you been standing there watching me?”

  “Benjamin.” She scowled at him. “Language.”

  Voicemail picked up, so he turned his back on his mother.

  “Hey, it’s Maggie. I’m not available at the moment, so leave a message. Bye.”

  He swallowed hard, her voice sending a shaft of agony rushing through his veins. “It’s me. Call me back. We need to talk.” He paused, glanced at his mother, and added, “I’m sorry. Please. Call me.” He hung up and slid his phone across the desk.

  “She’s gone.” His mother crossed her arms. “I watched her go.”

  He froze, his heart pounding full speed ahead. “When did you see her?”

  “When you were busy kissing Elizabeth. She saw that, too.” She sat down on the chair by the door—the one he hadn’t sat in because it was Maggie’s, and it hadn’t felt right. “Don’t worry, though. She wasn’t upset. The money she made off of you was well worth it.”

  He pressed a hand to his chest, as if it would ease the empty ache within, and picked the paper up again. Staring down at the date, he crumpled it into a ball, seething with the knowledge that he’d been had. These numbers were out of date, and he’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing. I simply informed her you wouldn’t be able to buy her farm, like she’d hoped. It’s why she roped you in. Her parents finally lost the valiant battle to keep their useless, insignificant business afloat. She was going to beg you to buy it and save her.” She rested an arm on the table next to her and traced an invisible pattern. “So I told her that wouldn’t happen, but that I’d buy it if she left. So I did. And she did.”

  He shook his head slowly, cursing the drink that fogged up his brain. “You bought her off, and she took it?”

  “She did.” She smiled and pulled something out of her purse. “Here’s the paperwork, in case you don’t believe me.”

  “But—” He took the documents and sure enough, it was paperwork to buy a large lot of land in South Dakota. And the dates were accurate on these papers. “It was all a lie. The money…it’s there. It’s all there.”

  She sighed. “Figured that out, did you? I’m not surprised. You always were a bright boy, when you chose to apply yourself. You simply chose not to.”

  “Yeah. I did.” Benjamin blinked. “Why did you do this?”

  “She had to think you were poor and couldn’t help her. And you had to believe you were poor, too, or she wouldn’t buy it, and you wouldn’t have let her go. You gave me the idea when you started poking around in the financials. So, the credit truly goes to you. I dug out those old papers, handed them off, and the rest just fell into place. It was perfect, really.” Her smile widened. “You’re not a pauper after all. You don’t need to marry Elizabeth—though I still wish you would—and that backwoods gold digger is out of our lives once and for all. I won.”

  Rage—so much fucking rage—blinded him. And he let it.

  Lifting a trembling hand, he pointed to the door. “Get out.”

  “All right. I have dinner plans anyway.” His mother stood, staring him down. “Be angry all you want, but you’ll thank me later, when you meet a proper woman and realize I saved you from the biggest mistake of your life.”

  No, she hadn’t, because he didn’t believe a word she said. Maggie wouldn’t have taken a bribe. “What was your biggest mistake? Having me?”

  “Close enough.” His mother hesitated. “Pretending you were mine.”

  “What?” he asked, the world ceasing to exist around him. She’d just said— “Are you saying I’m not your son?”

  “Of course you’re not. Your father slept with his secretary a year after we got married, and got her pregnant.” His mother spat it out, anger radiating off her in waves. “Not wanting to face the shame, I helped him cover it up—and buy her off. I went on a European tour, and came back with a baby. With you. And I’ve hated you ever since.”

  His heart pounded loudly, echoing in his head. “I’m not your son?”

  “You’re not.”

  Suddenly, it all made sense.

  Her hatred. Her preference for Andrew. The way she treated him. It all fell into place, and instead of being upset she wasn’t his real mother, he felt…

  Free. Absolutely, one hundred percent, free.

  “Where’s my real mother?”

  “Dead.” She hugged herself. “Has been since you were five.”

  He rubbed his jaw and nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Wh—?” She blinked at him, clearly taken aback. “For what?”

  “The truth. I feel a lot better about you hating me now, and even understand why.” He inclined his head toward the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

  She started for the exit. “I didn’t tell you to make you feel better,” she snapped.

  Refusing to give her the satisfaction of an answer, he gritted his teeth until she left. Once she did, he picked up the phone, and dialed Maggie’s number again. She still didn’t answer. He hung up and kicked his desk. “Son of a bitch.”

  He scowled out into the empty office, toward her desk—until he saw the glinting item on top of it. Storming out of his office, he headed straight for the gleaming object.

  The ring. She’d left him the ring.

  A gold digger wouldn’t do that.

  As he knew all along, his mother’s story was just that. An elaborate story meant to make him despise Maggie. She wasn’t who his mother said she was. She hadn’t betrayed him. She might have been trying to save her parents’ farm, but she hadn’t pretended she cared about him just to get her hands on his money.

  He couldn’t believe that. Wouldn’t.

  And he never should have let her go.

  Dialing again, he waited for voicemail to pick up. It did. Once her message ended, the phone beeped, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t believe you took the money as a bribe, so you have to tell me I’m right. Call me back and tell me you didn’t use me to save your farm. Tell me.”

  Met with silence—obviously—he hung up and left the office.

  One way or another, he’d find a way to fix this. To make it up to her that he’d believed the worst of her, when she’d done nothing but show him the best.

  She deserved better, and he’d be the one to give it to her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A week and a half later, on December Twenty-third, Maggie stood outside in the cool sunlight, wearing jeans and a plaid shirt and feeling anything but merry. They’d been busily cleaning out the house ever since she’d arrived, brokenhearted after realizing that Benjamin hadn’t cared about her, and never would. He’d used her to get his fiancée back, and she’d fallen for every single word he’d said.

  Like the stupid, naive idiot she was. Well, not anymore. She was done. With New York City. And him. Just…done. She didn’t belong in that city, or his world.

  Since she wasn’t going back to New York, she would never have to see him or his deep blue eyes ever again. And she couldn’t be happier about that. Ecstatic. Thrilled. Happy
as a pig in mud, or a horse with a fresh pile of straw.

  Rolling her eyes, she tossed the garbage in the can.

  Even she didn’t believe herself.

  She was miserable, flat out miserable, and she missed him more than she’d have ever thought possible. He’d left a hole in her soul that she was beginning to suspect would never be filled, and he didn’t even know how much he broke her heart.

  And that hurt, too.

  But for the sake of her parents, she’d been doing her best to act as if there was nowhere she’d rather be than back home, because if she didn’t, they would feel bad. They’d been through enough already.

  Mrs. Gale, for her part, had held to the bargain…so far.

  She’d offered an extremely generous buying price, and her parents had accepted. They were now looking for a new home to buy with the profits, and had also started a job search. Everything was working out the best that it possibly could, and everyone was happy, all things considered.

  Everyone except Maggie.

  Benjamin kept calling and leaving voicemails on her cell, but she hadn’t listened to any of them. If he left long messages thanking her for giving him what he’d always wanted…she’d throw up all over herself. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy for him. She was. But she would rather die than listen to him tell her how happy he was.

  Especially when she so wasn’t.

  The farm truck flew up the driveway and skidded to a stop. Maggie squinted and held a hand over her brows, shielding her vision from the sun. “What the—?”

  “Maggie!” Her mom hopped out like the freaking Energizer bunny on crack, brandishing a piece of paper over her head like some kind of award. “Look! Come look!”

  She dusted off her hands and bolted to her mother’s side, her heart leaping. If Helen had backed out last minute… “What? What is it?”

  “We’ve been awarded a grant. Some big league heavy hitter in New York paid off our debt and is letting us keep the farm.” She waved the paper again. “Some sort of new forgiveness program for little food-producing farms like ours. Can you believe it?”

  No. She couldn’t believe it.

  Not at all.

  She snatched the letter out of her hand, skimming over it. Sure enough, she saw exactly what she expected to see. Benjamin Gale’s name on the letter. But…why would he do that? He’d done the very thing she’d asked him not to do. He paid her off.

  After breaking her heart.

  The anger and hurt rose up, choking her, but she forced a smile for her mother’s benefit, because now that he’d done it, there was no going back. Her parents got to keep the farm, which was great, but it had come from the man who’d ruined her…which was not so freaking great. “Wow. Go tell Dad. He’ll be so happy.”

  “I know.” Her mother hugged her, and ran off for the house. “Glen!”

  She let the smile fade as soon as her mom went inside. How dare he pay off her debt, as if that made up for all the lies he’d told her? All the pain he’d caused?

  It didn’t.

  And she would tell him as much.

  She took her phone out of her pocket at the same time as an unfamiliar SUV pulled up the driveway. She watched, dread settling in the pit of her stomach as it slowed down and stopped. The driver’s brown hair…

  It looked a heck of a lot like Benjamin’s hair.

  But it couldn’t be him.

  The Benjamin she knew wouldn’t have left the office if a tornado swept through it. He would have chained himself to the desk and kept on working, so there was no way he was here, in South Dakota.

  Then the door popped open and out he came, wearing an expensive three-piece gray suit, shiny black loafers, and a pair of Gucci shades. He looked as out of place on her farm as he possibly could. Utterly ridiculous. Stupid, even.

  And yet the suit hugged his hard biceps and tapered in at his six-pack abs, and God, he looked delicious at the same time. And that made her even angrier.

  How dare he come here? How dare he?

  After all he’d done, after how he’d made her feel, he had the nerve to show his face on her turf, looking handsome as the devil himself and staring at her as if he’d been as hungry for the sight of her as she’d been for him, which was a big, fat lie.

  Just as all the other things he’d told her had been.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, not approaching him, and called out, “You can get right back in that car and drive off. You’re not welcome here, Mr. Gale.”

  “No.” He came around the front of his shiny Cadillac, his jaw hard and his hands curled into fists. God, he looked so good. It wasn’t fair. None of this was. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you hear me out. My messages—”

  “You shouldn’t have come here.” She lifted her chin. “What would Elizabeth say?”

  “I don’t give a damn what she would say.” He had the audacity to look confused. He stopped just short of arm’s reach, but close enough for her to smell his familiar cologne. She breathed it in deeply, closing her eyes against the pain it caused and the incredibly strong longing it brought to life. “Why should I?”

  “Where is she? Did you tell her you were coming here?”

  He blinked. “No. I didn’t feel the need to inform her of my whereabouts.”

  “But you— It doesn’t matter.” Uncrossing her arms, she backed up. “If you won’t go, I will.”

  “Wait.” He caught her arm. She hissed, because his touch burned through the fabric of her shirt, searing her. “Please, Maggie.”

  “No.” She yanked free, stumbling back. He made as if to reach for her, but she scowled him off. “Don’t touch me.”

  His fingers flexed, but he remained still. “I bought the farm for your parents. It’s safe now. They can stay here, and you can come home to New York.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not going home, because it’s not my home. This is. Not that city. New York is for people like you, not me.”

  “But—” Something that looked a lot like pain crossed his expression. “Did you listen to any of my messages?”

  No. And she wouldn’t. But she lifted her chin and lied. After all, he was so good at it, so she might as well try her hand at it, too. “Yes. Every one of them. Twice.”

  His jaw flexed. “And you still hate me, after all that I said?”

  She didn’t answer him. She couldn’t. As hard as she’d tried, she couldn’t find it in her heart to hate him because she loved him. And that’s what made this even worse.

  She loved him, and he was engaged to someone else.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you.” His nostrils flared. “And I meant every word I said in those messages. I’d do anything to go back. To do things differently.”

  To do what differently?

  Never ask me to be your fiancée?

  “Just go, Benjamin. It’s over.”

  “I—I see.” Reaching out, he brushed his knuckles across her cheekbone, sadness taking over his features. But why would he be sad? “I’m sorry, darling. I never meant to hurt you. Or to be like all the other guys in your life. And I never wanted you to hate me.”

  She closed her eyes, shutting out him and his touch. “Go home, Benjamin. You don’t belong here any more than I belong in the city.”

  “Can’t you forgive me? We could at least be friends.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to lose you completely, darling. Please.”

  She shook her head once. “No.”

  “I’m so fucking sorry, Maggie.” His touch lingered, and he moved closer, pressing his mouth against her forehead. “You were my one chance at happiness. My one shot at true love. Guess it just goes to show that guys like me don’t deserve love, or happiness. And I certainly don’t deserve you.”

  With that, he got in his car and drove away.

  By the time his words pierced through the thick shield of pain surrounding her, he was gone. Wait…had he just said he loved her? That she’d made him happy?

  But what about Elizabeth? His moth
er hadn’t lied about that. She saw them kissing with her own eyes. So why was he talking about being in love with Maggie?

  She ran her arm across her forehead, took a deep breath, and pulled her phone out. Swiping her finger across the screen, she opened her voicemail and braced herself to listen to them all. He’d called once a day, every day, and it was time to hear to what he had to say…like she should have done before sending him away.

  She hit play on the newest message.

  “Hey. It’s me again. I hope you’re not mad at me for doing what I did. I figured if your parents were safe and settled, maybe you’d be ready to come back home. You don’t want to talk to me, and I was an asshole the last time you saw me, but I…” He paused, and she held her breath. “I miss you, Maggie. I miss you so damn much it hurts. I’m alone again, and I should be used to that after being alone for years, but after having you in my life…I’m not. Come home to me. I’ll be waiting. I’ll wait for you forever, if that’s what it takes. You know what? Screw that. I’m coming to you, and I’m not leaving without you unless you tell me to. Even then, I won’t give up on you. I need you, darling.”

  Click.

  Hands shaking, she played the second newest message. “I’m miserable without you, Maggie. I’m even more of a beast than before. I’m sorry my mother did what she did to you, and I’m going to fix it. I’m going to save your farm. It’s not what you wanted, or what you expected, but I miss you. And I need you to come back to me and be mine again. Please.”

  Click.

  She listened to the rest of the messages, each one more or less the same. He missed her. He wanted her back. He was sorry. He didn’t love Elizabeth. He didn’t want to marry Elizabeth, and he never had, and she kissed him, not the other way around. It was all a ruse devised by his mother.

  Of freaking course.

  And she’d fallen for it.

  Maggie collapsed into the rocking chair, since her legs would no longer support her, and stared up at the bright blue sky, phone held to her heart. He didn’t love Elizabeth. He wasn’t with her—and he wanted Maggie to come home to him.

  God, she wanted to, because she loved him, and maybe he loved her, too.