Filthy Rich

by Raine Miller

  His expression softened in sympathy—for me. “I wish I had that power, baby, oh how I wish.” He tucked a loose piece of hair behind my ear. “No, I am afraid we have been outed. It’s out there for public consumption now. The paparazzi is going to stalk you and follow you around and write things that are not true about you in the media. They will take your picture and ask you questions when they catch you off guard. The more controversial the story or unflattering the picture, the more valuable it becomes to them, because it sells more papers.”

  “But, I don’t want attention like that, Caleb. I don’t want it—I can’t bear to be followed around and pictures—”

  “Shhhhh.” He pressed me against his chest, his hand holding me securely at the back of my neck. “It’s okay. Remember what I said when I started this conversation. I love you, and you need to trust me. I am handling it.”

  “But how does that work, Caleb?” I asked sadly. I couldn’t imagine what he could say to calm the panic rising up inside me.

  “I’ve already put in motion to have security on you every second I’m not with you. You shouldn’t go into your office today or maybe this entire week. You can work from the penthouse and have Eduardo come meet you there. I can call your boss when we get to my office.”

  “Bloody security guards?” I couldn’t even imagine that scenario.

  “I’m afraid it’s necessary, baby. I’m so sorry, but it wouldn’t be safe for you without security, and I won’t take that chance. You’re too precious, and there are too many fucking lunatics in the world.”

  “Like someone might try to kidnap me for ransom or something?” Where had all the oxygen gone? I felt suddenly sick.

  “Oh fuck, don’t say that. Nobody is going to get close enough to have the chance to do anything to you. I will make sure. Brooke, baby . . . it’s okay. You’ve just gotten a rude introduction to how the media feeds off celebrities just because they have fame, or in my case, wealth.”

  “You’re angry about what they’ve said about us,” I said from against his chest where he was holding me so close to his heart.

  “What? Angry? No! I’m not angry about the picture or what it suggests. I love you, and we are together. End of. They would’ve gotten hold of it eventually. I’m so sorry, Brooke, but it’s just one of those not-so-pleasant consequences that come with being with me.”

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t really. The shock of what he was saying had barely registered in all parts of my very befuddled brain. Caleb rubbed a hand up and down my back while he held me.

  The silence drew out, becoming uncomfortable as the seconds ticked on. Finally, I pulled myself out of his hold and looked down at my lap. I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Brooke?” His voice sounded thready.

  “Yes?” I kept my head down, still unable to look at him.

  “This is the part where you are supposed to say something like, ‘I know you love me, Caleb, and I don’t care if the world knows about us because I love you, too.’” His voice carried an edge, and I could tell my silence had made him feel as if I were rejecting him.

  I lifted my eyes to find him looking very concerned, and maybe even a little hurt. “Oh, Caleb, I know you love me, and I love you back. I am frightened of people invading my personal space . . . and knowing things about me. I like my quiet life. I want to keep my quiet life as it is.” If he only knew how terrified the thought of photographers snapping my picture and strangers following me around made me feel, he might be a bit more understanding. Smothered. Suffocated. Controlled. Those were the feelings I hadn’t felt since I’d come back to the island. Those were the feelings associated with Marcus and his terrifying instability. Breathe.

  But this wasn’t the same thing at all. It felt the same, but I had never been safe with Marcus. I was safe with Caleb, though. Caleb wasn’t trying to control me but keep me safe. Safe.

  And safety was on the island.

  “I know you do, but I can’t promise your life will ever be the way it was before, at least not for a while.”

  “Caleb, I can’t—”

  “What? You’re saying you can’t be with me now?” The look he gave me ripped into my heart.

  I took a shuddering breath. “Not publicly, Caleb. I can’t go back to Boston right now. I’m staying here. I’ll work from the cottage this week.” I knew I was babbling senselessly, but I couldn’t still the panic building inside my chest.

  “Brooke, there is no way I am leaving you here unprotected, or letting you out of my sight right now. No fuckin’ way, so you can just forget that idea, baby, and let it go right on out of your pretty head.” He glared at me in a way I had never seen from him before. “You’re coming back to Boston with me until I can get your security situated,” he insisted, reaching for me.

  “But I didn’t choose this,” I snapped, pulling back from his hands. “I didn’t choose this.” This time the words came out as a faint whisper.

  He froze, his eyes widening as he stared me down. “I know you didn’t choose this, and neither did I, but I’m trying to make it livable for us both.” His scowl was replaced by a softer grimace as he reached for me again—more slowly this time, but not taking no for an answer, either—pulling me to his chest.

  I allowed him to hold me and listened to him telling me the many reasons why I had to swallow my fear and go back to Boston for now. He said it would take time to make a secured home for me on the island—and it broke my heart. I didn’t know how to tell him what I knew would hurt him. I was scared and feeling like a selfish bitch, but that didn’t stop me from complaining.

  “But, Caleb, you said you would come and be in my world with me. You told me,” I reminded him, knowing it would change nothing about this situation.

  “I know I did, and I will, Brooke, but I need some time to make that happen, and right now there’s a nest of pit vipers trying to dig out a story about you, and the only way I can shield you is to take you back to the city, where I have the resources in place to keep them the fuck out.”

  “It’s not permanent, Caleb, you have to understand that I will go for the short term, and only because of safety reasons. I won’t live with you in Boston permanently. I wish I could, for your sake, because your home is there, and your work. But I know that I can’t. It’s very h-hard for m-me to explain, but I n-n-need to live here on the island.” I shuddered and gasped for air that seemed in very short supply.

  “I understand, baby,” he said quietly.

  “You do?”

  “I do. I understand that’s what you need, and because I love you, I want to give you everything that you need. We can live on the island if the city is a deal breaker for you. It doesn’t even affect me that much because I can come and go via chopper in mere minutes, but—and this is one huge-ass but—I can’t do it overnight. It is going to take some time to get a suitable place for us here, with security that is acceptable, and especially to limit the access of every fool who thinks they can approach us.”

  I nodded into his chest, breathing in his scent to help stabilize my overtaxed emotions. “Thank you. I’m sorry for all of this trouble. I wish I could feel differently, but it doesn’t change how much I love you.” It didn’t change how much I loved him, but his words just made me love him more. He wasn’t trying to make me yield to his demands, but make our new life livable according to safety and my needs. I understand that’s what you need, and because I love you, I want to give you everything that you need. My mother never got that from my father.

  He sighed, and it felt as though it was a sigh of relief. I recognized his body language loud and clear. “You will probably never know how much I needed to hear those words from you right now, baby.” Yep. I was right. “And I don’t want you to be a different person—ever. You are just how you should be, and there is nothing to be sorry for.”

  “None of this mess changes the fact you are a remarkable man. I cannot even begin to understand why you aren’t running away from me at a fast clip, but you
aren’t. You stay with me and tell me you love me and say you will make your home here—with me—and it feels like I’m in a waking dream. This couldn’t possibly be real—”

  “It’s real, Brooke. It’s real.”

  After a few more minutes of silence he asked, “Ready to go?”

  “I’m ready,” I lied.

  As I drove us to the helipad, I ruminated over everything. I knew it would be hard for me to see stories and pictures of me in the gossip magazines, and I made a vow not to read them. The thought of things being written about my personal life made me physically ill. This paparazzi issue would be a tough nut for me to crack. I would do my best and I didn’t want to let Caleb down, but I couldn’t deny the worry now settled in my heart.

  I didn’t know if I was strong enough to make it through unscathed—and I guess I was about to find out.

  The closer we got to the helipad at Lucas’s place, the more I realized the many concessions Caleb had made in order to spend his weekends with me on the island. He was doing his best to accommodate my wishes, except for where the ferry was concerned. He told me Blackstone Island Ferry wasn’t going to cut it for his commute, and he didn’t want me taking it, either. He cited the time delay was unacceptable for him when his helicopter could make the trip in a quarter of the time. I didn’t complain. I’d miss seeing Will, but it was wonderful to make the journey to the mainland in mere minutes, instead of an hour or more depending on the sea conditions.

  Caleb’s pilot was a huge ex-soldier named Spence. He didn’t say much, but Spence was reliable. He was always waiting for us when we pulled up to the helipad, just as he was now. The helicopter was fired up and ready to go when I parked and locked up Woody. Caleb helped me navigate through the extreme wind blasting down off the rotors, and got me settled into my seat and our bags securely stowed.

  As he buckled me in, I watched his hands working determinedly in securing the straps, which would make this journey a safe one for me. A kind of a metaphor for what he was trying to do for me in his life. I trusted him completely.

  He gave me a quick kiss before strapping himself into his own seat. Caleb didn’t seem to have any doubts, and I liked that he was so confident about having me in his life. His confidence would have to do for the both of us right now, because I didn’t have mine down yet.

  The time to face my new life in the spotlight had come, no matter how much I despised the idea. I was with Caleb now. Everything else could be sorted out with time and patience.

  The time to ponder my new situation was very brief.

  Because just a short fifteen minutes later, Spence set us down on top of the Blackstone Global Enterprises building in the middle of downtown, corporate Boston.

  Caleb

  Caleb, you cannot be serious about this girl. She’s the illegitimate grandchild of our former housekeeping staff, for Christ’s sake.” My mother stood in my office, in her Prada and Gucci armor, somehow under the impression her disapproval of Brooke would influence me to break up with her. Delusional was about the only thing that came close to explaining the state of my mother’s mental health right now.

  “I assure you I am totally serious about Brooke, and for the record, she is the grandchild of your sister-in-law, who is married to my very rich uncle. And here’s another news flash for you, Mom, we’re not in the fifties anymore when people cared about pedigrees. The illegitimacy aspect doesn’t pull much weight when there’s money to factor into it—mine and Herman’s should be enough to smooth over any offended sensibilities.” It was a challenge to keep my cool with her attitude. She’d waited three days since the news hit, before descending upon me to throw in her two cents about Brooke. Like I needed her up my ass right now, in addition to fending off the relentless press, who fought for scraps like hyenas over a carcass. It was exhausting.

  “Your father would be devastated by this,” she said, shaking her head at me.

  “Seriously, Mom? You believe that Dad would disapprove of Brooke if he were alive?”

  “Yes, Caleb, I know he would.”

  “I disagree. You’re wrong about this. One hundred percent wrong. He told me to hold on to the things that make me happy with all of my heart. Since Brooke is the only woman who can ever make me happy, I’m holding on to her.”

  “He told you that, son?” she asked, her tone much more diffused than when she’d first started in.

  “From his deathbed, yes, he did.”

  A look of pain came over her face, and I could see she was still grieving. “He had some regrets at the end of his life, but he would not condone your relationship with Brooke. The Blackstone name was too important to him.” She shook her head slowly. “No, he wouldn’t approve, Caleb, not after all he did to make certain you were given the best of everything life had to offer.”

  “But isn’t that what any parent does for their child? Want them to be happy and try to give them the best of everything?”

  She was frustrated with my logic, I could tell.

  “It will never last. Your relationship with Brooke will not stand the pressures of society. She won’t be able to rise above her scandalous past—”

  “She doesn’t have a scandalous past, Mom!”

  “Brooke will never be accepted as one of the tribe,” she said tightly.

  “Brooke doesn’t care about social affairs, and frankly, neither do I. If I don’t go to another event, where the tribe struts around dressed to kill, attempting to blow Chanel-scented smoke up my ass, then I’m good with that. I can still give to the charity without attending.”

  “You need a wife who understands how to move in the world you were born into, son.”

  “Someone like Janice, you mean?”

  “Yes, exactly. The Thorndikes are just as devastated about this as Janice is. Alicia told me how shocked they were to find out you were in another relationship so soon after breaking off with Janice. It doesn’t sit well with them at all.”

  “Well, don’t get your hopes up there, because Janice is definitely not a candidate for my future bride. It didn’t sit well with me when I was betrayed by their daughter. I’ll spare you the ugly details and just leave it there. And they are ugly.” She grimaced. “Furthermore, there is only one person who will ever claim the title of Mrs. Caleb Blackstone, and her name is Brooke Casterley.”

  “Caleb, for heaven’s sake. We all know Janice, and have for years. I am sure she is not capable of anything any other woman scorned would do given your hasty breakup with her.”

  Mother dearest, you have no fucking idea. Obviously Janice’s parents were clueless about the mental nastiness and manipulation she was capable of. I should’ve taken pictures of my bathroom before Ann cleaned it. James had received a few texts from her, since I’d blocked her number. Even James had been surprised at the things she’d told him about me. “She still believes you’ll marry her,” he’d shared with me the other week. “She says you’re only biding time with your ‘English slut’ until you come to your senses and beg her forgiveness for breaking up. She’s fucking delusional, my friend.” I couldn’t agree more. Thank fuck I got away from her when I did.

  “Janice is nothing to me and never will be.”

  “This is very disappointing, Caleb, and if your father were alive, he’d tell you the same.”

  No, he wouldn’t.

  “It’s happening, Mom,” I fired back angrily. “The best thing for you to do is let the notion of Janice and me as a couple go. She was never even a consideration for me.”

  “So, you truly are going to marry this girl with no family, no money, and no social status of any kind?” she asked, exasperated.

  “When she is ready, yes, I am. And I will expect all of my family to welcome her into our tribe with enthusiastic acceptance and kindness. If you can’t do that for Brooke, then you won’t have me in your life, either.” I let her know I was dead fucking serious. “If you don’t believe me, just wait and see what happens.”

  I never thought I’d see the day
where my mother gave up on any of the standards she held. But after I said that last bit, the fight just went out of her. Surprising. It was strange to witness, because I’d never seen her lose the veil of aloof confidence she always carried around. Ever. Surely this wasn’t the last I’d hear of it.

  THE Autumn Ball occurred every year on the Saturday after Thanksgiving at the Massachusetts Club in Back Bay. This year would be the 108th black-tie, formal-dress charity ball, and also marked the first public event for Brooke and me. It was, in all respects, our coming-out party. After tonight, there would be no more speculation, or predictions about our relationship, because it would be undeniably confirmed.

  The past three weeks of paparazzi battling had been taxing at times, even for me with my wealth of experience in dealing with their pain-in-my-ass antics. Brooke hated them with a passion, but she’d hung in there and stayed in Boston with me where I did my best to keep her off their relentless radar.

  In a way, she was their Cinderella-story darling. The initial CNZ headline plus the picture taken of us at the wedding hadn’t brought any bad press to our door. Brooke’s beauty, and the lack of a past—due to her youth and never being in the public eye before now—was a definite draw for the gossip rags. Poor-but-beautiful working girl catches the eye of bachelor billionaire, and they fall in love with each other. Add in the fact she was British and I was American, it became the Cinderella story everyone wanted to read.

  Brooke said she didn’t care what they found out about her, because there was nothing to hide. All of the people involved were dead, so they couldn’t be hurt by anything written about them. Her mother and father, of course, and even her monster of a husband didn’t play out so badly in the press when they were dead. The public was sympathetic to those who had suffered. I only cared about Brooke not being hurt by the stories they reported, but so far it was just the usual history of her life up until now. The press loved the theme of her grandmother being the “maid” and marrying into riches. Herman and Ellen’s story pushed all the feel-good buttons people had inside them, and I understood why it sold so well for the media.