An Improper Bride (Elliot & Annabelle #2) (Billionaires' Brides of Convenience Book 4)

by Nadia Lee

  Traci gets up and gives me a quick hug. “So good to see you. I kicked myself after I left Gavin’s place.”

  “Why?” I say, taking a seat across from her.

  “Didn’t get your number, and I didn’t think you’d call. I remember what a bitch I was to you.”

  “No, don’t. You weren’t.” I take a slow sip of my coffee. “I’m not saying I wasn’t disappointed, but I couldn’t blame you for the way you felt. I’m not sure if I would’ve reacted any differently.”

  “Thanks, Annabelle.” Her shoulders droop. “You have no idea how much I regretted it. I felt awful when I realized you’d left and I had no way of contacting you. You got rid of your old phone, and there was no Facebook, nothing.”

  “Couldn’t afford the plan, and I wanted to start over. There was nobody on the phone I could call.” I hold up a hand to forestall any more apologizing. “So, how did you end up in L.A.?”

  “I finished college and needed a job. I applied, OWM offered, and the rest is history.”

  “Are you enjoying the work?”

  “It’s not bad. I ran into Dennis a few weeks ago. He’s interning. I was so stunned when I saw him there under his mother’s maiden name. He and I didn’t speak after…you know.”

  I’m not surprised. Dennis’s father was Dad’s partner.

  “But we talked, and…it was really awkward.” She gives me a wry smile. “But you know, he’s a victim, just like us, and he lost his mom, too, afterward. The stress and embarrassment basically killed her, and he was always really close to his parents.”

  True. I absorb all that information, feeling another wave of regret and sorrow at how things unraveled around us kids because of my father’s fraud. “Your parents are doing okay, I hope?”

  “Yeah. I mean, it was rough after…well, everything. And they’re going to have to delay their retirement, but they’re still hanging in there.” She shifts, uncrossing and crossing her legs. “How about you? I’m surprised you’re married. I always assumed you’d be the last to marry of the three of us.”

  By “three of us” she means me, her and Dennis. We used to hang out a lot together. Traci and I…well, we were best friends. Dennis hung around because he wanted to be with me.

  “Yeah… But things don’t always work out the way we expect.”

  “Amen.” She leans closer. “Does Elliot treat you well? I’ve heard about him, you know. He seems like he’s, you know…”

  “Pretty terrible?” I have to laugh. “He’s good to me and Nonny.”

  She sits back. “Oh, good. His reputation’s awful, but you can’t trust everything you read these days.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You guys going to start a family soon?”

  I shake my head. “Probably not. I want to do some stuff before I make such a big commitment.”

  “Are you worried about…well…losing it?”

  The softly spoken question startles me so much that I flinch and almost knock my coffee over. “What?”

  “I didn’t realize the significance back then, but I noticed you were bleeding for an unusually long time. Almost three weeks, and you missed all those swimming practices…and were really moody.”

  I can’t speak past my suddenly parched throat. I couldn’t use tampons—my Google search warned against it—and since I wanted no complications that could land me in a hospital, I followed every suggestion I found online. But I hadn’t realized my mood was different as well.

  “I just thought you were really sick or something at the time, but my older sister miscarried last year, and…I suddenly realized. She bled for about two weeks.”

  I sip my cold drink. “Well. It was a long time ago, and it has nothing to do with my decision. Elliot also prefers to wait.” Neither of us wants to have children to muck things up. A clean and simple divorce after one year. That’s the goal.

  “I’m glad to hear it. I felt bad about not being there for you. I was so annoyed that you were skipping practice when you could’ve used tampons and gone on with it just like the rest of us.”

  “I couldn’t say anything.” My face heats. “It was a disaster I didn’t know how to handle or share.”

  “I still wish you’d told me. I could’ve helped.”

  “Thanks, Traci. If I ever need anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Good. You and I are besties after all.”

  An idea forms in my head. Maybe… “Speaking of needing something, do you know anyone who’s hiring?”

  She frowns. “No, but I haven’t asked around either. Why?”

  “I need a job.”

  “Oh?” Her well-plucked eyebrows rise. “Isn’t Elliot providing for you? Isn’t he, like”—she lowers her voice—“really rich?”

  “He is, and yeah, he does, but I can’t spend my entire day doing nothing. I was thinking about going to college, but that’s not an option right now because it is impossible to join in the middle of a semester.”

  “That’s a good point. Did you ever get to finish school at all?”

  I shake my head. “No. I did two years and had to drop out. I couldn’t continue at Florida State and still take care of Nonny and everything.”

  Traci makes a sympathetic noise. “To be honest, I don’t know if there’s anything open that won’t require a bachelors. I mean, maybe you can get something leveraging your husband’s connections, but job market’s rough, even for people with a four-year degree.”

  I sigh. Traci isn’t telling me anything I don’t know.

  “But I’ll keep a lookout. I can also ask at OWM, unless you feel awkward about working there.”

  I’ve done it before, I think. “Not at all. I’m flexible.”

  “Just to warn you, it may be really boring clerical work. When I first started, the HR director made me file for weeks. Her previous temp didn’t do much before leaving to ‘fulfill’ himself.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “He quit to go be a yogi in the Himalayas.”

  “Really?” I find it hard to reconcile the cool, moneyed company and a man who is spiritual enough to want to become a yogi. Not that you can’t be spiritual to work at OWM, but Gavin Lloyd did not strike me as anything but a highly grounded realist.

  “Except I heard from someone who’s really tight with him that he got arrested in Tokyo for pot possession.”

  “Seriously?”

  “He’s probably going to be stuck in jail for life or something.”

  “No way.”

  “Yeah. Apparently the Japanese take pot pretty seriously.”

  “Wow. What a way to ruin a life.”

  “I know, right?” Traci finishes her latte. “You still have my card?”

  “Yes.”

  “Send your résumé to my office email. I’ll pass it around and see what happens.”

  “Thanks. Really appreciate it.”

  “I get a referral bonus if you get hired. Not a huge amount, but I’ll take it.” She grins.

  I laugh. Traci’s and my relationship isn’t what it used to be. We don’t have the easy rapport that we once had, but that’s to be expected after what’s happened. One step at a time, I tell myself. I can fix my life little by little until I’m whole again.

  * * *

  Elliot

  It doesn’t take me long to pick up everything I need for the honeymoon from a couple of boutiques. Although my wife seemed happy about meeting her best friend, I’m not too sure. It’s entirely too convenient that this Traci chick suddenly wants to get chummy again. Or maybe I’m just too much of a cynic to think anything good will come of it. Friends who ditch you when shit goes south and come back when things are good again aren’t the friends you need.

  My phone buzzes, and I pull it out of my pocket in case it’s Belle wanting to go home. But Ryder’s name flashes on the screen.

  “Yo, bro,” I answer, walking toward my car.

  “Hey dude. Am I interrupting anything?”

  “Nah. Just g
etting some stuff for my honeymoon.”

  “Cool. Where you off to?”

  “St. Cecilia.”

  “Great choice. We might’ve gone there if I’d been confident the paparazzi wouldn’t follow us.”

  I make a face. Ryder and Paige can’t go anywhere without the vultures flapping around. The fact that they’re expecting leaked, not because they made an announcement, but because some asshole took photos of Paige at a hospital and uploaded them everywhere. “You need a little plastic surgery, make yourself ugly. Cutting off half your nose would do wonders for privacy.” I climb into my car and settle behind the steering wheel.

  “Yeah, but that would be spiting half my face,” Ryder says good-naturedly. “Not to mention, Paige adores my nose.”

  “How’s she doing?” I also wonder what Geraldine will say about becoming a grandma, but I keep that to myself. Nothing can ruin Ryder’s mood faster than mentioning his mom. “You excited about your first born?”

  A slight pause. “Of course I’m excited.”

  “Holy shit, dude. You hesitated.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did too. Do you not want it?”

  “Of course I want it! Don’t put words in my mouth. Listen, I didn’t call you so you can give me shit about my perfect life. I called to give you a heads-up.”

  “About what?”

  “Someone’s digging into your wife’s past.”

  Now it’s my turn to hesitate. “And you know this because…?” I ask finally.

  “Because it’s my job to know stuff like that. Actually my team is monitoring everyone because they’re worried about possible blowback.”

  “Which would be…?”

  “She was a stripper.”

  “Only briefly,” I say. “She was a waitress before.”

  “You know how tabloids are. You marrying a waitress isn’t interesting. You marrying a stripper is.”

  Ah, fuck.

  “And you are a person of interest, having been one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, plus your relationship to me. Just don’t want you to get blindsided.”

  I rub my face. “Thanks for the concern, but don’t worry. I got it covered.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course. I’m the one digging into her.”

  Ryder is quiet, but I can hear the gears in his head turning. “Why? Didn’t you run a background check before getting married?”

  “Yup.”

  “So…”

  “I need to figure out what’s going on with her and an ex of hers. And her financials.”

  “Jesus. Why do you care about her ex? It isn’t like you don’t have a thousand of them.”

  “He’s in town—”

  “Just like a lot of your exes…”

  “—and he’s a liar—”

  “Which has nothing to do with your wife…”

  “—and he and my wife met this Monday.”

  Ryder stops. “They did?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you ask her about it?”

  “We sort of talked, but I don’t have a good feeling about it. There’s something there.” I tell him about the envelope with photos and the cryptic message.

  “Paddington is certainly the man for the job if you want to get to the bottom of it, but don’t you wonder who sent the envelope in the first place?”

  “I do. The concierge said it was some white guy in a suit. Nothing special…” Then I blink as another thought strikes me. “Which now that I think about it is the same description I got for the man who sent me the cake with my wife in it.”

  “Whoa. You think it’s the same guy? You said the cake was probably a mix-up.”

  “I don’t know what to think. Average looking white guys are a dime a dozen, right?” Even as I say it, my gut tightens.

  “So…a coincidence?”

  I shake my head slowly. “No. I’ve got a feeling. Someone’s trying to fuck with me.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Annabelle

  I’m bubbling with excitement by the time Elliot picks me up from the café a couple of hours later. My cheeks are warm, and my dress swirls around me like melted chocolate. It’s all I can do not to grab Elliot and kiss him the moment I climb into the car. The interior of the powerful, luxurious Maserati smells like him—that clean, male scent, which makes my skin prickle with sharp awareness.

  “What’s got you so excited?” he asks as he deftly maneuvers the Maserati through the L.A. traffic. It moves like molasses, the cars around us shimmering in the heat, and a small scowl scrunches his face. “Keep looking at me like that, and I’m going to want to go fast.”

  I tilt my head, absorbing the delicious presence of him. He’s in a pale gray cotton t-shirt that molds to his torso, outlining his shoulders and pecs. The faded jeans hug his hips and thighs, and I flush as I remember how I gripped his ass last night.

  “Or just check into the first hotel I see and fuck you until you scream my name over and over again.”

  This time my cheeks warm with carnal need. “You’re such a sex addict.” The mild reprimand is ruined by the breathlessness of my voice.

  “We have to make up for the morning,” he says, totally unrepentant.

  “I’m sure we’ll make up for it in St. Cecilia.”

  “Different time zone. Doesn’t count.” A small smile tugs at his mouth.

  He makes a few deft turns, and the traffic flow becomes better. We should be home in no time at all.

  “So. How’d your meeting with Traci go?” he asks. “You guys still cool?”

  “Pretty much. It was amazing to reconnect with her. I didn’t realize until now just how much I missed my friendship with her.”

  “Well, great. I’m happy for you.” He smiles.

  I grin back at him. “I’m happy, too. She’s doing well, which is always good. She finished school last year. It’s making me more determined than ever to get my degree.”

  “I’m sure you’ll finish your education. A cap and gown will look fabulous on you.” His voice is warm, but something shifts in his mood. It’s hard to pinpoint, but it’s almost like the warmth is leeching out from him, and he’s brooding a bit.

  I peer at him. “What?”

  “Nothing.” The tone of his voice is final and firm, but he softens it with a small grin. Whatever popped up in his mind and is bugging him is still there, but he isn’t going to talk about it.

  I want to know what’s bothering him, but I suspect we don’t have that kind of relationship. I look out the window at the traffic in front of us. Since I don’t want an awkward silence, I resume talking after a moment. “Just spending the time with her reminded me of how well she knows me. It’s almost scary really. She even figured out that I miscarried. I thought nobody would ever know.”

  Elliot’s eyebrow rises above his sunglasses. “How could she have known that? You never told her, right?”

  “No, but she realized my period was too long to be normal, and eventually she put that and a couple other things together.”

  He grunts. “Perceptive.”

  “Yes, but she was always like that. Always interested in helping people out.”

  “Except for that time two years ago.”

  “Elliot.”

  “I don’t have to be a genius to figure it out. Why else would you have lost contact with each other?”

  The car pulls into the designated spot. He kills the engine, grabs a glossy black paper bag and helps me out.

  I sigh. “It was a tough time for everyone. Not her fault she didn’t handle it well. We were both young and immature. She genuinely feels bad about it, and she’s going to help me get a job.”

  “A what?”

  “A job.”

  “Whatever for?”

  I frown up at him as we take the elevator to the penthouse. “Elliot, we talked about this already.”

  “You also mentioned how you wanted to finish your degree, which is a much better use of your time if you ask
me.”

  “Well, I didn’t ask.”

  He doesn’t acknowledge me. “You aren’t going to get anything that pays decently without a degree. If you could, you would have.”

  My lips go tight. I tilt my head and look up at him, anger and humiliation pulsing through me. Since I left Lincoln City with Nonny, I basically worked as a waitress. Then there was that extremely brief stint as a very bad stripper. He’s also seen me as a cleaning lady.

  From the way his eyebrows pinch, he knows he’s made a mistake. He opens the door, his movements unusually jerky. “I’m not saying this to make you feel discouraged,” he says. “But if there was anything available without a college degree, you would’ve had a better job than what you had.”

  I walk past him, and he follows me in. The door locks automatically behind him.

  Suddenly I spin around and face him. “Elliot, I can’t spend my year doing nothing. I’m not used to being idle.”

  “Why not? You worked very hard to provide for yourself and your sister. Don’t you think you need a little break?” He drops the bag on the counter. “If you think you’re going to be bored, why don’t you do some volunteer work? Elizabeth’s foundation can use the help, plus it’d look good on your résumé and college applications.”

  He doesn’t understand that I need the money to get out from under Mr. Grayson. I don’t want to wait a year, and I still don’t know how to explain Mr. Grayson and his weird interest in trying to set me up with Elliot. But I owe my husband honesty. “There’s—”

  “If you want,” Elliot starts at the same time, “I can call in some favors to help you get into a local school.”

  I recoil at the offer. “Don’t be insulting,” I shoot back. “I’m going to a school that I can get into on my own merit, not because you know someone who knows someone.”

  “I don’t know someone who knows someone. I just know someone.”

  I breathe in deeply. It won’t do us any good to be upset with each other. I remind myself he’s trying to help. “Anyway, I can’t do volunteer work. I would like something that’s going to help me earn some money.”