My phone immediately pinged with another message.
Can we reschedule? I really want to see you.
Without hesitation, I responded.
I can’t reschedule. I am closing down my website. I won’t be taking any more bookings.
With that, I reversed the charge and refunded ‘Darling.’ I closed the laptop and quickly left the room, feeling a bit lighter than before.
**
“How was your weekend? Skylar able to walk?” Jeremy chortled, coming into my office on Monday morning.
I ignored his second question but answered the first. “We had a great time, thanks for asking.”
“It’s nice to see you with a social life. I was starting to think you should give up law and enter a monastery,” Jeremy smirked.
It was then I noticed a file in his hand. “What’s that?” I asked.
Jeremy looked down at the thick file and frowned. “That’s actually why I came in here. I wanted you to have a look at something for me. I want to know if what I’m seeing is right.” He came around the side of my desk and handed the file to me.
I opened it up to find a bunch of spreadsheets as well as at least five tax returns. “What exactly am I meant to be looking at?” I scanned the numbers, flipping through the pages.
“There, look at these numbers, then look at the tax returns and tell me that makes sense.” Jeremy stood back, crossing his arms over his chest.
I scrutinized the paperwork. “What is this? Paperwork for the mob? This is some Al Capone level stuff here, Wyatt.” Because what he was showing me was clear-cut tax evasion. “Whose money is this?”
Jeremy was clearly upset. “Tiffany Hardwell’s.”
I couldn’t stop my mouth from dropping open. “These are Tiffany Hardwell’s tax returns and income paperwork?” Jeremy nodded. “Shit, Jeremy, she’s been hiding millions of dollars worth of income.”
“I know. From what I can gather she made her money with this business called Boys and Toys. She was declaring only fifty thousand a year, but her bank statements show transfers to offshore accounts for years. We’re talking millions going to the Cayman Islands. What kind of business is Boys and Toys? Do you think it’s an escort service or something?” Jeremy chewed on this thumb nail.
I was tired of lying to the people I cared about, so I didn’t answer him. Instead, I poured over the information in front of me. If the IRS got hold of this Tiffany would be in a lot of trouble. As in jail time trouble.
“What should I do with it? Do I ask her about it? I know this falls under client privilege, but I feel like I need to clear the air with her if this firm is going to stay on her retainer. We don’t want to be associated with dirty clients,” Jeremy said, sounding furious. I didn’t blame him. Tiffany had put us in a hell of a bind. Not that I was surprised. Tiffany wasn’t the kind of person to think of anyone but herself.
“I think you need to take this to Adam and see what he wants to do,” I told him, closing the file, and handing it back to him.
“Ms. Hardwell has brought us a lot of money. But now that I know it’s not legit cash, I just want to give it all back. If I hadn’t just put a down payment on a lake house.” Jeremy groaned, rubbing his temples. “Okay, well I’ll go talk to Adam and see how he wants to handle this. Thanks, Rob.”
After he left I sat back in my chair, feeling better than my partner did at the information I had just been given.
Because now it seemed I had something called leverage.
**
I knew when I blew off Tiffany last week that it would only be a matter of time until I heard from her again. I still didn’t really understand why she had come to Southport and what her angle was, but if I wanted to really start something with Skylar and make it last, I had to deal with this very ugly part of my past.
I was just finishing up a meeting with a client after lunch when my phone vibrated with an incoming message. Thinking it was Skylar I chanced a glance at the screen.
You haven’t come by to see me. :-(
Even though the number wasn’t familiar, I knew exactly who it was.
Tiffany.
After showing my client to the door, I picked up my phone again to find three more messages. All from Tiffany.
I thought I made my desires clear. I need to see you.
I don’t like it when you ignore me. It makes me think I have to do things to get your attention.
Call me back today or I’ll be dropping into the office for a face-to-face chat.
I could feel her increasing anger with each subsequent text. This was a woman who thrived on control and she’d retain it in any way she could. I needed to handle this quickly before it escalated. And thanks to Jeremy I had my own cards in my pocket I could play if I needed to.
I tapped out a quick reply.
I’ll come by after work. Around six.
Tiffany’s reply was only a few seconds later.
Perfect. I’ll make dinner. Xoxo
I didn’t bother to tell her not to, that I wouldn’t be staying for dinner. She wouldn’t listen anyway.
My phone buzzed again. Expecting another message from Tiffany, I didn’t look at it right away. When I did, my stomach dropped.
What time will you be over this evening? I downloaded the new Star Wars movie.
Shit. I had made plans with Skylar. I was supposed to spend the night, the first time I would be doing so since we had been together. I knew it was a big deal to have someone stay in her house. She was very guarded of her space and the fact she was opening it up to me was on the same level as my taking her to meet Sam and Mom.
I’m going to be late. Probably not until after eight. Is that okay?
I could see the bubble that indicated she was typing and then her response.
Of course. I’ll see you then. :-)
I swore to myself it would be the last time I lied to her. I never wanted to give her a reason to feel betrayed by me. It was time I came clean.
But first I needed to handle Tiffany Hardwell.
**
Tiffany had purchased the Carmichael house in the center of Southport. It was one of the oldest properties in the state, having been built by a steel tycoon in the late eighteen-hundreds. It had been in a dilapidated state before she bought it and by the looks of it, she had put thousands of dollars into modernizing and fixing it up. She couldn’t have chosen a more ostentatious, attention-grabbing house if she tried.
I walked up the steps of the wrap-around porch. It was freshly painted with hanging plants hanging along the curve of the railing. The elaborately carved front door was a work of art all unto itself. I twisted the old doorbell, hearing it clang inside.
The door opened a second later, almost as if Tiffany had been waiting for my arrival. “Robbie,” she cooed as her familiar perfume wafted over me, making me slightly nauseous.
She was all done up in a tight-fitting green dress that barely covered her ass. Her large tits were on proud display, practically spilling out. She was dressed to seduce. There was no denying what she expected to happen.
I looked forward to disappointing her.
“You came empty-handed. I thought I taught you better manners than that,” she scolded, closing the door behind me. “Never mind, I have more than enough here already.” She slithered past me, making sure to brush against my arm. I could smell chicken parmigiana baking. “Come inside. We can’t hang out in the entryway all night.”
She waved me through to the living room. It was decked out just as I expected it to be. While the outside of the house kept in line with the period, inside had been completely gutted and decorated with a modern sensibility. It was all clean lines and stark white walls and furniture. It reminded me a lot of the penthouse she owned when I met her. It was cold, with zero personality. Nothing like the cozy warmth of Skylar’s house with the mismatched pillows on the couch and the brightly colored tiles in the kitchen.
“I hope you’re hungry,” she sang as sashayed into the kitc
hen. By habit, I watched the way her hips moved. The purposeful, exaggerated swing of her ass. And I felt nothing. Not one drop of lust or attraction. Whatever I had once felt for this woman was long gone.
“I’m not here to eat, Tiffany,” I said, my voice hard.
Tiffany stopped and turned around to look at me, a cat-like grin on her face. She closed the space between us, putting a hand on my chest. “There’s my boy. Always so eager.” She went up on her tiptoes, trying to press her mouth to mine.
I gripped her upper arms and set her away from me.
“Stop it, Tiffany. You’ve never been a stupid woman, don’t start now. You know I’m not here for whatever you have in mind.” My voice was so cold it could freeze, and Tiffany responded instantly to my mood.
Her expression changed like the flip of a light switch. The smoldering seductress was gone and in her place was an angry, rejected woman.
“Then why are you here?”
“To tell you one last time to back off. Stop calling me. Stop threatening me. Stay away from Skylar. The best thing you can do is to leave town. There’s nothing for you in Southport.” I watched her, knowing I couldn't look away. I couldn’t show weakness, or she’d pounce on it. She hadn’t gotten to where she was by being dumb and her greatest talent was using people’s faults against them for her gain.
She put a hand on her hip. “You don’t call the shots, Robbie. You never have. I let you get away all those years ago. If I had wanted to stop you, you would have stayed,” she spat. “You always have been a spineless boy.”
“Things have changed, Tiffany. You don’t know me anymore—”
“I don’t?” She threw her head back and laughed but not with humor. “You’re still scared. Still terrified of people finding out who you really are. Still lying and pretending you’re one thing when deep inside you’re something else entirely.”
Her words hit me hard because they were right. God damn, she was right. And I hated her even more for it.
“As for your girlfriend,” her face became something dark and ugly at the mention of Skylar, “she’s nothing. Do you get that? She’ll never see the Robbie that I know. I own you.” She walked to an ornate desk in the corner, opened a drawer, and took out a small flash drive. “I’ve been watching you for years. I keep tabs on my boys.”
My heart was hammering in my chest. “What is that?”
“Insurance. In case you got too big for your britches.” She put the flash drive back in the drawer.
“Tiffany—”
“Don’t call me Tiffany. Call me Darling.”
It felt like ice water was coursing through my veins.
“What?” I choked out.
She advanced on me again. I felt like I was a mouse being stalked by a cat. She pressed herself against me, running her hand down my chest, tucking her finger in the waistline of my trousers. “Don’t you dare shut down that website of yours. It’s got to be a good little earner for you. And I like being able to watch you whenever I want. A woman can get awfully lonely at night.” She slithered her fingers down further into my pants.
“You’re Darling?” I rasped.
She nodded, giggling. “And Liquid234. And Sexbomblimited. Oh, and SedectiveSweetyPie11.” She listed out three of my most frequent online clients. She had been watching me for years.
Since I had started my website.
She thought she had me under her thumb. She expected me to buckle. To cave in to her demands.
“Why are you here?” I asked her again.
Then surprisingly, her face crumpled, and an uncharacteristic vulnerability came over her face. “When you left all those years ago I thought I could replace you. And I did. I replaced you over and over again. But none of those men ever looked at me the way you did. None of them loved me.” She sniffed as if she were actually trying not to cry. “You made me feel like something special. To you, I was a goddess. None of the others ever treated me the way you did.”
Of course, it was all about her and how I made her feel. It made me feel even more shame. She had used me, though she didn’t realize that’s what she had done. In her messed-up mind, she probably thought she loved me too.
“Are you going to propose I work for you again? Start up another service here in Southport as me as your star employee?” I sneered. She made me sick.
Tiffany’s eyes softened and she reached up and wrapped her arms around my neck. “No, baby. You’re all mine. I don’t want to share you ever again. Now come on. Let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”
“Don’t touch me,” I said with barely contained fury.
She blinked as if in surprise. She thought her sob story would work. “You don’t mean that.” She gripped me tighter, like a fucking succubus.
“I do mean it. I don’t love you. I never did. And I sure as hell don’t want you in my life now.” I disentangled myself, holding her at arm's length. “I don’t hate you either, though at one time I did.” I gave her an almost pitying look. “I honestly don’t feel anything for you at all.”
Her expression morphed into rage. “You stupid idiot. Don’t you know what I can do to you? I can destroy your world! That little fucking girlfriend of yours? Gone. Your fancy career? Finished. Think about what you’re saying—”
“You think I would come over here without my own insurance?” I asked softly, cutting her off.
She closed her mouth in confusion.
“I have all the proof I need to have you sent away for tax evasion. I’m sure the IRS would love to know you owe them millions of dollars.” I raised my eyebrows at her.
“That’s a load of bull. How would you have proof of anything?” she sputtered but she had gone pale. Very, very pale.
“You were so full of your own confidence that you moronically chose my law firm to represent your financial interests. Did you not think Jeremy would show me some questionable paperwork?” I shook my head.
“There’s such a thing as an attorney-client privilege—”
“There’s such a thing as a crime exception. We know about the previous criminal activity as well as plans for continued criminal activity—i.e., tax evasion. We are within our rights to hand that information over to the authorities.” I watched with barely contained glee as the realization of her own foolishness sunk in. “So, I would think twice before doing anything with that drive. There’s more than one head on the block.” I looked around at the very opulent room. “It would be a crying shame if all this went away.” I gave her a cold smile.
She looked absolutely taken aback. She backed away from me as if seeing me for the first time. I could see her preconceptions about the person I was shattering around her. Then she gave me the ghost of a smile. “If I wasn’t so pissed off, I’d be impressed with your nerve, Robbie.”
“Southport is my home. It’s where I live and work. There’s nothing for you here.” I didn’t say the obvious ‘get out of town’ but it was there in between my words.
“You’ve given me a lot to think about.” She cleared her throat. “I guess dinner is out of the question.”
“I don’t want to ever see you again, Tiffany. I mean it.” I turned my back on her and headed for the door. Ready to forget about everything but my future.
With Skylar.
Chapter Thirteen
Skylar
“Hey there, sleepyhead.” I felt his lips on my face before opening my eyes. It was the first time Robert had slept over and I realized that he was a bit of a bed hog. My double bed wasn’t nearly as comfortable or spacious as his king. Particularly since the man took up most of the space, leaving me on the edge with a sliver of the pillow.
“We need to work on your blanket sharing skills,” I muttered, rolling over. I opened one eye to see it was after ten. “Shit.” I sat up, forgetting that I was naked. Not really caring that I was naked, which was a first. I had never slept without pajamas. Not even when I was dating Mac. But with Robert, I couldn’t bear anything between us, and it seemed he fel
t the same way. We had to be skin to skin at all times.
“Why are you still here? Don’t you have to get to work?” I asked. I had a mountain of projects to do today. I hated waking up feeling like I was behind already.
“I took the morning off. Rescheduled my meetings. So, there’s nowhere for me to be but here.” He reached out and pulled me to him, covering my mouth with his. I couldn’t help it; I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him push me back onto the bed. He nibbled the underside of my jaw as he fit himself between my legs.
“You’re insatiable,” I chuckled and then groaned as he slowly eased himself inside me. My body had become so used to him. I arched my back as he began to thrust.
“Only for you, Sky. Only ever for you,” he moaned, burying his face in the side of my neck as we moved together. “God, I’m gonna...I need to…”
I felt him release inside me. It didn’t last long this time, but it was amazing just as it always was.
He lifted himself off me and looked down into my face, pushing the hair off my forehead. “You didn’t come. That’s not fair.”
“It’s okay, I feel pretty sated right now.” And it was true.
He frowned and shook his head. “That won’t do.” He slid down the bed, lifting my ass with his hands and his mouth was on my clit.
“Fucking hell!” I screamed as he got me off in a record time of two minutes flat.
When we were both shattered messes, we made our way to the shower, where round two was in order. By the time we were dried and dressed another hour had passed and I was officially way behind.
“I hate to do this—” I started to say.
Robert grinned. “You’re kicking me out so you can get work done. I get it.” He opened the kitchen door letting Edgar back in from his run around the yard. He moved around my house with familiarity as if he had always been there. For a woman who craved her space, I found that I liked it. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy seeing him in my kitchen, making coffee, putting bread in the toaster, pouring food into Edgar’s bowl. He even put fresh water in Morla’s tank.
Say You're Mine: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Southport Love Stories Book 4) Page 18
