“What happened?”
“I went down there and they told me I need to make a facilitating payment if I want priority treatment. Basically, bribe them. And the way the guy said it, I admit, it really got my blood boiling.”
Wow, it must have been serious to rile Connor up.
“So I decide I won’t pay it out of principle. I’m not rewarding bad behavior, you know? The only problem is, we can’t wait too much longer if we’re going to open the building in time. Our contract with our current call center runs out at the end of the month and everything is supposed to transfer over here.”
“So Dad’s on your back about that?”
“Yeah. And then he tells the project manager to go ahead and pay it anyway. I mean, just completely undermines my authority. He only cares that we meet the deadline, not how we make it happen. And apparently, he doesn’t care that bribery is illegal.”
Knowing Dad, no, he wouldn’t care about that little fact.
“Well, today we get served from the U.S. Department of Justice with a violation of the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act, and now Dad’s yelling at me on the phone an hour ago about how I need to clean up this mess. Even though it’s his fault.”
“Oh, shit, Connor. I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“No. It’s just been a clusterfuck of a day.”
Well, that must have been why Dad was in such a pissy mood.
“Tell me what he yelled at you about,” he requests. “Maybe that’ll make me feel better.”
A laugh escapes me, despite the seriousness of the situation. I explain to him what happened during my reconnaissance mission at Montague Media yesterday and how Dad wants me to distance myself from Serena, even though she has nothing to do with any business stuff.
“And now you don’t want to? You didn’t seem to care much about it at lunch last week.”
God, that seems like a lifetime ago. “A lot has changed since then. We’ve been getting along really well.” Scarily well. Almost like things between us are… real.
“That’s a good thing, right? I’ll be honest, the pictures you’ve been posting are convincing.”
“The PR team handles my profile.”
“Yeah, but you’re still in them. I, um- Okay, I have to know. Your last photo, the one from yesterday. She’s in your bedroom, right? Did you take that?”
My mind flashes to Serena giving me that secretive smile, my old t-shirt hanging off her slender frame, the waistband of my boxers rolled up several times to fit her. “Yeah.”
“Was that staged? The other ones I can see, but that one… there was something different about it.”
“It was real,” I admit. There’s that word again.
“So when you say things have changed, that you’re getting along well, you’re what? Actually married now?”
“No, we haven’t- We’ve never discussed…” The closest we’ve gotten to talking about anything like that was when I told her I was having trouble separating what was acting and what was real, but we never came to an answer. We kind of got distracted with touching each other. “I don’t know.”
“Uh, maybe you should talk about that? Even if she’s your fake wife.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Absolutely.” We’ll sit down and discuss it. Without touching this time. No getting distracted. By her sensuality. Her scent. Her smiles. Her massages. Her thoughtfulness. Her passion.
I swear to God, I’ve never thought so much about how I’m feeling in my life, but this thing with her just feels… right.
We talk for another ten minutes or so until Tracy buzzes in, reminding me of a meeting at nine. I get back to work, something within me lighter after talking with him. I’ve spent too long apart from both my brothers-
It suddenly clicks. Dad has purposely kept us separated. How have I never realized that before? He had all of us go to different colleges. Never let Gabriel join the business. Shipped Connor off to work on international projects soon after he got his MBA.
But why? So we wouldn’t band against him or something?
I’ve never had cause to do that before, but there’s been no reason to go against him. I’ve done what he’s wanted, followed the path he’s set for me.
But how long am I going to keep doing that? When do I get to live the life I want?
Not that I’m even sure what that is exactly.
Well, there’s one thing I’m discovering I want more and more.
Serena.
And though he told me to distance myself, there’s no way I’m actually doing that. The situation’s reversed now. We’ll keep this budding relationship away from the public eye. But in private?
It’s only going to heat up.
Chapter Eighteen
Serena
“Serena, you have someone downstairs who’s asking for you.”
I rub at my eyes, the hours of searching for shelter grants on the computer getting to me. “Thanks, Wendy.” I stretch my arms above my head, my back making an audible pop. Now’s as good a time as any to take a break.
I follow her down to the first floor, smiling as I spot Claire and a young girl hanging around the front desk.
“Please tell me you still have Sandy,” Claire says in her typical no-nonsense way. “If you don’t, this one might riot.” She points to the girl, who merely grins in response.
“She’s here. I promised to give you a heads up if someone else was interested in her, didn’t I?”
“Can we see her?” the girl asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet, raring to go.
“Oh, Serena, this is my stepdaughter, Ava.” Claire waves her hand back and forth between us making the introductions. “And she’s desperate to meet this dog.”
“Give me a second. I’ll bring her out.”
I walk in the kennel area and get Sandy out of her stall, clipping on a recently donated sparkly pink leash I have a feeling Ava will like.
The girl squeals at the sight of the dog as we return up front, holding her hands up to her cheeks. “Oh my God, she’s so cute.”
Claire lets out a sigh of relief.
“Would you like to take her for a walk? Get to know her a bit?” I hold the leash out to Ava, who nods and immediately grabs it, bending down to give gentle pets and behind the ear scratches to the preening dog.
“Thank God,” Claire mutters, soft enough for my ears only. “Suddenly this girl’s been my best friend once I mentioned it. I actually had to pull her out of school to come here today just to get her off my back.”
We make the same loop around the block I did with Archer and Petey on Sunday, Ava already a pro at handling the dog. We give her some distance up ahead to bond with Sandy while keeping an eye on the two of them, and I bask in the warm sunshine, still buoyant from this morning. I can’t believe how well it went. And all I had to do was actually ask for what I wanted to get it. What a novel concept.
“You install that swing yet?” Claire asks, her gaze focused on Ava.
“What?”
She chuckles to herself. “Never mind.”
Swing? What is she- Oh. The sex swing. Very funny. “No, we’re doing fine without it.”
“So the advice I gave you worked?”
“It was extremely helpful.” My face heats, but maybe she’ll attribute it to the sun.
“Good. Glad someone’s getting some action. There are some nights lately I don’t even see my husband. Leaving me on my own is never a good idea.” Well, that doesn’t really surprise me.
“Is he working late?”
“Yeah, some big project at his job.”
“What is it he does?”
We pause as Ava and Sandy stop ahead for the dog to sniff a tree. “He’s an executive at RealityTV.”
Oh God, I hate that channel. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been known to indulge in my fair share of reality shows, but that network seems to greenlight the worst of them.
“Actually, your name came up recently at one of his meetings.”
&
nbsp; I squint at her. Come again?
“The show the Nash brothers are putting on,” she elaborates. “They said you and Archer would be a regular feature. Surprised me, to be honest.”
Whoa, now. “We ran into Harlan and Courtney last week and they invited us to a dinner party, but that was it. We never confirmed we’d do it.”
“Hmm.” She twists her lips. “That’s not what they told Jerome.”
So they’re trying to use our names to get their show on the air?
“I’ll let Archer know.” Maybe he can put a stop to it. I have no desire to be on RealityTV.
“I think Sandy has to go to the bathroom,” Ava calls back to us. “I’m going to take her to that tree across the street.”
“Okay, be careful.” Claire turns to me. “This is turning out better than I expected. If you couldn’t tell, we’re taking that dog home.”
“Good. Sandy’s a sweet girl.”
“How often do your animals get adopted?”
“Usually a few a week. We try to make sure the family will be a good fit, so sometimes we have to reject an application. But it’s just so they don’t end up returning them later or abandoning them somewhere else.”
She nods. “Totally understandable. You know, I happened to find this place on Google because I was looking anyway, but I had no idea this shelter was even here. If you want, I could get Jerome to post a feature on their social media or something.”
“Wow, that’s really nice of you.” RealityTV or not, exposure is still exposure. “Thanks.”
She laughs. “I’m not a total bitch all the time.”
“I never said-”
“Relax, I’m teasing.”
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to her version of teasing. But now that she mentions it, maybe I could ask for her help with something else too. “I’m actually planning a benefit soon for the shelter. Our funding will run out starting in about a month and a half. Archer’s company might donate some in the interim, but I want to diversify our income sources. Would your husband be able to post about a fundraiser once I lock in a date and venue?”
“Sure. Better yet, add me, him, and Ava to your guest list. We’d love to come.”
“Where are we going?” Ava asks, joining us once again. By her side, Sandy stands happily, her tail wagging back and forth.
“A benefit for the shelter. You’ll get to dress up fancy and stay up late.”
Ava’s eyes widen. “Awesome. This is the best day ever.” She rushes forward and hugs Claire around the middle, a tentative smile creeping over Claire’s face as she reaches down and gently strokes her stepdaughter’s hair.
Ava bounds away soon after with Sandy prancing by her side, and Claire touches her fingers to her lips, watching her.
I stay silent, giving her a moment, until she glances over, remembering I’m there. “Sorry.” She wipes discreetly at her eye, pink touching her cheeks. “That was the first time she’s hugged me.”
“I bet there’s a lot more of that to come.”
“I hope,” she says quietly. “Jerome works so much, it ends up being me that’s the disciplinarian. I never get to be the fun guy.”
“Well, you definitely scored some major points with this.”
We turn the last corner to loop back to the shelter, Ava still far in front of us. Speaking of fundraisers, I need to go visit Mackenzie again. And Gabriel too, I guess. Archer never told me if he ever talked to his brother about his new career path.
We pass by the same jewelry store I peered into Sunday, but I don’t spy in the window this time. My thumb touches the bottom of the slim band encircling my ring finger now, taking comfort in having this at least. It may not be extravagant, but it’s something.
Claire fills out the last of the paperwork when we get back as Ava plays with Sandy, and I gift them the sparkly pink leash as they leave, waving goodbye. Warmth radiates in my chest as the girl and dog look at each other adoringly. This is why I started this nonprofit. For moments like this.
I return to my desk upstairs, my heart still overflowing as I pick up my phone, discovering I have three missed calls.
And they’re all from Dad.
What does he want? I haven’t spoken to him since he practically evicted me from my apartment. After seeing where I really stand, I don’t have all that much to say to him.
I sigh as I press the return call button, hoping it’s a simple conversation.
“Serena, sweetheart,” he answers, all friendliness. He must want me to cooperate with something then. “How’s married life treating you?”
What’s he talking about? He knows it’s not a real marriage. “Well, a pipe busted in Archer’s apartment, and now my bedroom is unusable.”
“Good, good,” he says, his voice distracted, obviously not listening to a thing I’m saying. “Listen, I got word from some people here that Archer stopped by yesterday and paid a visit. You know anything about that?”
What? “Your work or your house?”
“Work. He had a meeting with my senior accountant, but didn’t bother to tell me about it. Why?”
“I don’t know. We don’t talk about his work.”
“You can’t think of a reason?” he snaps. His patience must be thin today.
Archer questioned my father’s money problems to me last week, not that I had an answer for him. But if I bring that up to Dad, it’ll only make him angry.
“No. I can’t.” My loyalty to him has been fading for a while now, ever since he denied my pleading with him to call off the wedding to Gabriel. Throwing me out of my apartment and withdrawing the shelter’s funding sealed the deal.
He wanted to pawn me off on the Bishops? Well, that means I’m not under his thumb anymore.
“Let me know if you find out anything.”
Yeah, I’ll get right on that.
He hangs up without saying goodbye in his typical fashion, but I’m not letting it bother me. I did my part in marrying into the Bishop family like he wanted. But from what I can see, he miscalculated the value of the connections he’d gain. Archer isn’t a fan.
My phone buzzes again, but thankfully it’s not Dad.
“Archer, hi.” I smile just remembering this morning, how close I’d felt to him, the lingering kiss he’d given me as he’d grabbed his breakfast to go from Lori and headed out the door.
“Hey, are you free for lunch?”
“Yeah, of course.” I’d normally do a little happy dance if he asked me out, but something about his tone seems off. “Is everything okay?”
He’s silent for a moment. “How’d you know?”
“Your voice. You only sound like that when you’re stressed.” Oh, crap. I shouldn’t have told him that. I’m basically admitting the stalker-like level of attention I’ve been paying him.
He sighs. “Work’s been rough today. I need to get out of here for a bit. And I want to talk to you about a few things. Can I send James over to pick you up in about half an hour?”
“Yeah.” A nervous bubble forms in my belly. What does he want to talk about? He’s never asked to randomly meet in the middle of the day for something like this.
We hang up, but I’m hardly able to focus on continuing my grant research for the next thirty minutes until his driver arrives.
I stare out the window of the town car silently as I travel uptown, picking at my nails and looping a loose thread from the hem of my dress around my finger until we pull up in front of Capital West. I’ve never been to this restaurant, but it certainly seems nice as I walk in, the dim lighting and dark furniture whispering of luxury.
The hostess greets me, her black uniform impeccable, asking, “Do you have a reservation?”
“I’m meeting my husband, Archer Bishop.”
Her eyes widen momentarily. “Oh, Mrs. Bishop. If you’ll just follow me.”
She leads me to a door marked Private Dining along the back wall and opens it for me, ushering me inside. Archer stands from his seat at the head of a l
ong table and walks over to join me, laying a light kiss on my lips. Once the hostess leaves, he guides me over to the table, holding out the chair next to him for me to sit in.
“I’m surprised you booked a private room,” I say as I arrange the bottom of my dress out around my lap. “Don’t we want people to see us?”
“Actually, that’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about.” He takes his seat, a serious expression on his face. Right. Like I could forget about that. I just pray it’s not a we need to talk kind of situation.
“Okay.” I place the cloth napkin on my lap, stalling for time. “What’s going on?”
“Well, according to Dad, it looks like we’ve finished our job of convincing everyone we’re happily married. We don’t need to go anywhere else or take more pictures.”
“Oh.” He had me meet him out here to tell me it’s over? What am I going to do now?
A wrinkle forms between his brows. “I thought you’d be happy.”
I nod, but it’s too shaky to be believable.
“You didn’t even like attending those events,” he says, clearly at a loss for why my lower lip is suddenly trembling.
“You’re right,” I manage to choke out, a tightness settling in my chest.
“Am I missing something here?”
A fat tear rolls down my cheek and I hastily sweep it away before he sees it. I need to get myself under control. I knew in my gut this day was coming, despite his reassurances otherwise. “Everything’s fine.”
He grabs hold of my wrist before I can wipe the next tear away. “Serena, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to leave,” I whisper.
“What?”
I swallow hard, little knives already inside my throat. “I want to stay with you.”
He stares at me, his brows furrowed down, and just as he opens his mouth, another woman enters the room, presumably our server.
“Can you give us five minutes?” he asks her before she even approaches the table.
She glances between us and nods, backing out without a word.
He moves his hand up to cover mine, and I grasp onto the lifeline he offers, not caring if it’s only a temporary comfort. “What else do you want?” His voice is soft, soothing, but I can’t tell if it’s meant merely to placate me or because he genuinely wants to know.
Marrying the Billionaire (Bishop Brothers Book 2) Page 16
