The One I Love to Hate

by Amanda Weaver

  Alex slid off the bed, turning away to pull a crisp white dress shirt from his closet. “The rest of the house is his. I told you that last night.”

  Regretfully leaving the heavenly warmth of Alex’s bed, she began retrieving the various items of her clothing scattered around the room. “Right. I forgot. There was a lot going on.”

  Alex flashed a wicked grin over his shoulder. “That’s an understatement.”

  That grin set off a pulse of arousal strong enough to make her blush and drop her eyes away. Everything had changed so completely and quickly. Alex and Peabody and confessions and sex...so much sex.

  “Hey.” He came to stand next to her. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s just a little...disorienting.”

  “Me and you?”

  “Yeah.”

  Alex scowled, reaching up to tug on his hair. “Do you want... Is this too much? Do you want to forget it?”

  “No! No, I just feel a little lost.”

  “Look.” He took her hands in his and placed her palms on his chest. “I’m the same guy you’ve been talking to all these weeks. It’s me.”

  She exhaled. Of course, she already knew how to talk to Alex. She’d been talking to him forever, she just didn’t know it. “I know. Lucky me. You can’t imagine what I was expecting when I went to meet you last night.”

  “Oh, really? So I’m better than you expected?”

  Smoothing her hands down the front of his shirt, she traced the shape of his chest, remembering the glory of what was underneath. “So much better.”

  “I was bracing myself, too, you know.”

  Her eyes flew up to his. “Really? What were you imagining?”

  Blowing out a breath, he glanced skyward. When he spoke, his voice was a high singsong. “‘That Alex Drake? Does your father really know Jay-Z? Can you get us into The Standard? Can you use that private jet whenever you want?’”

  “Oh. Oh, I get it. Why you were so reluctant to meet in person.”

  He nodded. “I’ve learned the hard way to be cautious. So, really, it’s a relief, discovering PaperGirl is you, someone I know for a fact has never been the least bit impressed by me.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say that.” Her fingers toyed with the first button on his shirt, undoing it and teasing his exposed skin with her fingertips. “I’m impressed by you. Just not by any of that stuff.”

  Covering her hands with his, he grinned down at her. “Glad to hear it. Now, stop distracting me or I’ll drag you back to bed.”

  “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

  He rolled his eyes and laughed. “Let’s go get some coffee, Jess.”

  * * *

  Once they were both dressed, he led her back through his apartment to a door off the kitchen. It opened onto a brightly lit stairwell.

  “So the whole downstairs is just for you?” she asked, following him up the pale wood stairs.

  “Yeah. Dad used to have a loft in Tribeca, but when I told him I was going to DeWitt for college, he moved into this place and had the ground floor renovated for me.”

  “Wow. My dad just bought me a new laptop when I started college.”

  Alex glanced back over his shoulder. “I know you hate him, but he’s not all bad, you know.”

  “I never said I hated your dad. He’s just—”

  “He can be a lot to take, I know. It’s hard to see under the image, but he loves me. He always has. When I moved to New York for college, I think he realized he’d missed a lot with me and he was sorry for that.”

  “So he built you an apartment right downstairs so you’d never be far away?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Is he home right now?” She didn’t exactly relish the idea of crossing paths with Daniel Drake in his kitchen, wearing yesterday’s clothes, having just rolled out of a marathon sex session with his son. She might not ever be ready for that.

  He opened a door at the top of the stairs. “I have no idea. His assistant used to keep me linked to his calendar, but all the notifications were driving me crazy, so I dropped out.”

  When she followed him out of the stairwell, she nearly took back everything she said downstairs about not being impressed by his money. They were standing in the middle of a cavernous, two-story entryway, a white-and-black marble floor under their feet and a massive glittering crystal chandelier over their heads. The stairwell they’d just ascended was tucked under another staircase, this one grand and sweeping, curving up and away from the entryway to the upper floors.

  Oblivious to her stunned silence, Alex grabbed her hand and towed her out of the entryway. “Kitchen’s back this way.”

  Through an arched opening lay a wide hallway, tiled in the same marble. At the end of the hall, they passed through double swinging doors to a kitchen so large, it encompassed the entire back half of the floor. Marble counters lined two walls, broken at intervals by stainless steel appliances. Glass front cabinets displayed enough plates and glasses to serve an army. An island sat in the middle of the room, with a row of high stools pushed up alongside it and a bouquet of flowers in a crystal vase on its glossy surface. French doors made up the entire back wall of the room, opening onto a deck, and stairs led from there down to a garden, bare and still dusted with snow from two nights ago. The glass doors in Alex’s bedroom probably opened onto that same garden.

  Alex pointed her to a bar stool at the island and crossed to one of the cabinets to retrieve coffee mugs. The coffee pot was nestled in a fancy-looking contraption that looked capable of making coffee, frothing milk, and doing your taxes.

  The flowers on the kitchen island were fresh, a dozen sprays of delicate creamy orchids and some sort of glossy, dark green tropical leaves. Next to the vase, today’s papers lay neatly folded, the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, and the Financial Times. The brewed coffee, the fresh flowers, the papers...all set out by the elusive Lucia for a couple of bachelors who might not even be in residence, for all she knew.

  “All that’s on this floor is the kitchen?” She thought her tone was remarkably disinterested, considering how intimidated she was.

  “There are some staff rooms on this floor, too. The living room, library, and dining room are one floor up. The bedroom suites, media room, and the gym are on the floors above that.”

  Staff rooms. Library. Media room. Gym.

  Jess schooled her expression into nonchalance, wordlessly accepting the mug of coffee Alex brought her. She absolutely couldn’t let him see she was thrown by his life. That was exactly what he was afraid of—why he’d hidden behind Peabody. Once before, she’d preemptively judged him, thinking him nothing more than the sum of his beauty and privilege. She wasn’t going to make that mistake twice.

  Feeling her eyes on him, he glanced over and smiled tentatively. “What are you thinking about?” It still amazed her that Alex could ever be uncertain of himself. But she’d seen a different side of him as Peabody, and she knew he wasn’t as happy as he tried to appear to the rest of the world.

  “So, the family business...”

  He nodded tightly, his expression shuttering in an instant. She’d seen that look on his face before, always when he was in the company of his father. “Drake Media.”

  “He wants you to work for him?”

  “I already work for him. But ClickNews is just training. I’m supposed to take over the whole thing for him one day. The whole empire.”

  “And you don’t want to.” It wasn’t a question, because she knew the answer. He’d told her. “You want to report.”

  A grim smile tugged at his beautiful mouth. His head was tipped forward, the rust tangle of his hair falling forward across his forehead. “When I started at DeWitt, I didn’t even want to be a journalist, did you know that?”

  She didn’t reply, because he didn’t seem to be looking for an answer from
her.

  “Dad thought a major in either journalism or communications would be good background. I was a decent writer, so I picked journalism.”

  “You’re a fantastic writer, Alex.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  “Me?”

  “I told you how intimidated you made me feel.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Listening to you talk about journalism—”

  “Rant is more like it.” She used to get so carried away in classes, waxing rhapsodic about the noble duty of the fourth estate. He must have thought her insufferable.

  “I’ve been around the news all my life, but you made me think about journalism—really think about it—for the first time. I wanted to feel as passionate about something—anything—as you felt about writing. Watching you work so hard for something you loved...it opened my eyes. I wanted to be as good—as driven—as you. For the first time in my life, I expected more from myself than what came easily. Eventually, I found I loved journalism as much as you did.”

  Back in college, she’d resented his talent. He’d made it look so effortless, like he’d decided to be a brilliant journalist on a whim. She’d never really understood, until recently, how passionate he was about it. And here he was, not even writing. It seemed criminal to her now.

  “I thought you were just trying to beat me,” she said.

  “Well, maybe a little bit of that, too. We’re both pretty competitive.”

  Jess tilted her head in acknowledgment, because that was certainly true.

  “Mostly, I think I just wanted you to see me. Really see me.”

  “Alex, I always did, even when I was pretending otherwise.”

  “But not Dan Drake’s entitled son. Me. I guess that’s why I became Peabody. When I talked to PaperGirl, I knew, for the first time in my life, that you didn’t have an angle. You didn’t want anything more than me.”

  Reaching out, she laid her hand over his on the counter. “You can still trust me, you know. Even now that I know about—” She waved a hand to indicate this gajillion-dollar home they were sitting in. “All this. You’re still you.”

  His grateful smile made her heart melt. Sliding a hand around the back of her neck, he pulled her in close. “Thank you,” he whispered against her lips before capturing her mouth in a soft, slow, sensual kiss that had her nearly melting off her bar stool.

  “So if we’re laying blame,” he said after he released her, his eyes flashing with a teasing glint over the rim of his coffee cup. “It’s all your fault. I was just supposed to get some background at college, and ended up falling in love with it.”

  “If I’m responsible for you wanting to be a journalist, I’ll happily take the blame, because you’re brilliant. Alex, if you want to work as a reporter, can’t you just tell your dad that? He gave you that entire apartment. Like you said, he’s got his good points.”

  Alex looked pained, turning his coffee cup in circles on the counter. “He’s got more than good points. He’s got a huge heart, and he’s generous and loyal to a fault—unless you’re a woman he’s sleeping with.”

  “So? Why not tell him what you want?”

  He scowled, gathering his thoughts for a moment. “Did you know, my dad got started with one TV station in Maryland?” he asked at last.

  “No. I thought he must have inherited it.”

  “Nope. He had an investment do well and took everything he had—everything my parents had, because they were still together back then—and sank it into this small, unremarkable local TV station in Maryland. From that, he’s built everything.”

  “Impressive.” Which was the understatement of the year.

  “He’s devoted his whole life to building this empire, all so he can turn it over to me. It’s his legacy. How can I say no to that? It’s like telling him everything he’s done...everything he is...means nothing to me.”

  “But you don’t want to run his company. Surely—”

  “There’s no one else. I’m his only child. What’s he done it all for if not for me? Surely you understand that, with your family’s bar.”

  Romano’s was a far cry from a media empire, but wasn’t the sense of obligation just the same? “I do understand,” she conceded. “In my case, Gemma took on the bar, but—”

  “If she hadn’t, you would have, wouldn’t you?”

  Reluctantly, she nodded. “I couldn’t have said no.”

  His smile was sad and accepting. “Neither can I.”

  “It feels like such a waste, though. The journalism world needs you.”

  “The journalism world will do fine without me. They have you.”

  “Yep, me, the unemployed journalist.”

  “Listen—”

  “Oh!” A breathy, startled gasp sounded from across the kitchen. A woman was paused, half in and half out of the kitchen, her eyes wide and her hand clutching the front of her white waffle-weave bathrobe closed. “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.” She was very pretty, even with her makeup faded and her blond hair fresh from bed. It was easy to guess she was a “guest” of Dan’s, even though she looked to be much closer to Alex’s age than his father’s.

  Alex smiled at her, all politeness and ease, not at all bothered to discover a strange woman in his father’s house. This must happen all the time. “Hi, I’m Alex. This is my friend, Jessica.”

  “I’m Ashley. I was hoping to find some coffee.”

  “Help yourself,” Alex said, indicating the coffee maker on the counter. “Cups are just above.”

  “Thanks.” Ashley’s eyes raked down Alex appreciatively in a way that said she was delighted to have found more than coffee. Jess scowled and suppressed an eye roll as Ashley sauntered over to the counter, swaying her hips. “Dan didn’t mention his son lived here.”

  “I have my own place downstairs, but I was out of coffee. I couldn’t send Jess out in the world without some caffeine.” He reached out and ran a hand down her arm before letting it come to rest over hers and threading their fingers together. The move was casual, but deliberate.

  Ashley tracked it as she reached for a coffee cup. “Cozy.”

  The kitchen doors swung open again and Dan strode in wearing a gray T-shirt and navy sweats, his feet bare. Oh, hell, this was exactly what Jess had hoped to avoid. And with his hookup still present, to make it extra awkward. Having never seen Dan in anything less than a suit and tie, she had a powerful urge to avert her eyes, like she’d caught him naked.

  “Ah, you’ve met my friend,” he said, all smiles, and she suspected he wasn’t quite sure of Ashley’s name.

  “Just pointing her toward the coffee,” Alex said easily. “Dad, you remember Jessica Romano?”

  Dan’s hawklike gaze swung to her, registering her wrinkled dress and their joined hands in a flash. She practically had a sign tattooed across her forehead, I fucked your son downstairs last night! Three times! Was it possible to literally die of embarrassment?

  “Jessica, of course.” This time, the smile was a degree less charming, slightly more calculating, as he assessed her again in the wake of this new information. Jessica Romano, Alex’s old classmate in the coffee shop was one thing. Jess, the girl his son was now sleeping with, was clearly another.

  Refusing to let him make her squirm, she smiled politely at him. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Drake.”

  “Please, it’s Dan.”

  “Um... Dan.” That was the first and last time she would ever call him Dan out loud. It was just too weird.

  “You work at the Brooklyn Daily Post with Mariel Kemper.” He couldn’t remember last night’s hookup’s name, but he remembered that? Of course he would. Dan Drake excelled at remembering pertinent details when it was important. The fact that she was now sleeping with his son had evidently made the details of her life important to him—although not, she suspected
, in a good way.

  How was she supposed to answer that? If there was one thing to make this morning-after encounter worse, it would be admitting that his golden boy was banging a minor league reporter who’d just been fired from her first real job. But Alex saved her from responding.

  “Dad, do you need the car right away? I was going to have Omar take Jess home.”

  She gripped his wrist with her free hand. “What, like a chauffeur?”

  “Don’t worry,” Alex told her. “Omar’s on call. He can be here in two minutes.”

  “Oh, no, please, I was going to take the train—”

  “It’s an hour to your place from here.”

  “But—”

  This time, Dan cut her off. “Feel free. I’m not flying out until later this morning, so I’m hitting the gym.”

  Ashley’s gaze ping-ponged between the three of them, scowling as she registered that Jess was the overnight guest being sent home in the chauffeured car, and she’d be stuck ordering an Uber.

  “Where are you heading?” Alex asked conversationally, pulling out his phone and typing out a text.

  “Brazil for the rest of the week.”

  “Still looking at that network in Rio de Janeiro?”

  Dan shrugged. “Haven’t made up my mind, so I’d better go check them out in person.”

  “Makes sense. The Mexico network has done well for us, but South America’s a whole different market.” They proceeded to launch into a discussion about market shares and investor stakes and a bunch of other stuff that sounded like a foreign language to Jess.

  The change in Alex was disorienting. He’d donned a whole new persona, like he’d put on a jacket. She’d seen Alex slip into this role before, but this was the first time she was struck by how very wrong it was.

  When his phone buzzed, he paused and glanced at Jess. “Omar’s out front.”

  “I need to get my coat,” she mumbled, sliding off her stool. “It was nice seeing you again, Mr....Dan. And nice to meet you, Ashley.”

  “Have a good day, Jessica,” Dan said, shooting a cheeky grin at Alex, which he studiously ignored.

  Back downstairs in his apartment, she retrieved her coat from the rack by the door. Alex moved in front of her as she wrapped her scarf around her neck. He pulled her hair free where it was caught under her coat collar. “Can I see you tonight?”