Trouble

by Kira Blakely

  I didn’t say anything as I strode out of the conference room, trusting my attorney would handle all the details. Instead, I rushed into the elevator, making it just before the doors shut. Finally, I had access to Belle alone for a few precious minutes as we rode down to the ground floor.

  “You left a bit early, princess,” I said, my voice a low rumble. I was deliberate in every action, and I damn well knew what made women wet, what I could do to manipulate them. At least, it had always worked before.

  While Belle blushed again, she kept staring ahead at the button panel. “You think you can just buy anyone you want, don’t you, Mr. McManus?”

  “I’ve never had trouble before, baby,” I replied, smirking at her.

  “Maybe you’ve never met anyone with integrity before. It’s a little hard to find in Los Angeles.”

  I hummed in agreement. “But that’s not really it,” I said, turning to her and stroking her cheek. She stiffened but didn’t pull away. “You see,” I continued, leaning in lower and getting close enough to almost kiss her, to take the beginnings of what I wanted. “Everyone has a price, princess. Everyone. I learned that long ago. We all have what we want, and it’s always a question of finding out what that is.”

  “And exploiting it,” she said through gritted teeth.

  I kissed her then, finding her lips clamped tight but still letting her get a taste of my own. Pulling away, I grinned at her again. “Maybe, but that’s how the world works. You choose what prices you pay, and then you live with the fallout. You’re what? Twenty-two, fresh out of college?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  Christ, still so young. Everyone thinks they have it all figured out at that age, don’t they? Wait till her thirties hit.

  “Well, you’re still idealistic. There’s time for that to be beaten out of you.”

  She arched an eyebrow at me. “And you want to be the one to do it?”

  Oh, you have no idea.

  “I’m offering your family a way out, an olive branch after they shit all over my fair offer. You, Ms. Fontaine, only have to reach out and take it.”

  At that, the elevator arrived on the ground floor and I headed out, leaving the princess to think about her options.

  Chapter Two

  Belle

  “Belle, honey, I think you should go to the Bahamas for the negotiations.”

  My dad’s words slapped me across the face. The last thing I wanted was to be near Drake McManus again, let alone dragged off to his private island estate for God knew what. No, I wasn’t that naïve. I might have been inexperienced in a lot of ways, but I wasn’t dense. Drake McManus might have some legitimate negotiations planned, but I knew damn well what he really wanted. The whole trip was a setup for seduction and sex, which was crazy because he dated the new Hollywood “It” girl for about two weeks before moving on to the next. Drake was the ultimate in “wham, bam, thank you, ma’am,” and I’d just be another notch on his bedpost if I agreed to go to the island with him.

  Then again, a traitorous heat flared in my belly. Something about him still called to me. Yes, he was an arrogant, entitled jerk, but so were three-quarters of the men in L.A. on a good day. But he was so handsome, with that rugged scar over his eye—an old war wound his files had said—and those coffee-colored eyes that seemed deep, like an old soul going through the motions. There was more to Drake, that much I could feel, and I wasn’t sure why he worked so hard to keep up his bad boy walls.

  That didn’t mean I wanted to be alone with him on an island. I wasn’t interested in negotiating in that way, not now, not ever.

  “Dad, are you insane?” Carol asked.

  Good, at least my sister hasn’t drunk the Kool-Aid.

  “Exactly. We all know what else Mr. McManus wants,” I said.

  My dad sighed and ran a hand through his thinning, white hair. “I don’t want to ask this at all. I never would, but if the company completely goes down and we’re cleaned out for debts… we can’t afford medical insurance, let alone scrape enough together for the experimental treatment your mom needs. This was my Hail Mary chance to help buy your mother’s way into a trial at City of Hope. I just… I can’t lose her.”

  Carol and I both hugged our dad, getting into a huddle, as if that would stop all the pain that kept assaulting our lives, as if we could work against all the damn chaos that kept infecting it.

  “Dad, I can’t. I know Mom’s sick, but this is too much. If I go to his island, Mr. McManus is going to expect me to do a lot more than sign papers.”

  Dad nodded and sat back down at his desk in our home office. “I know, and it was a momentary bit of weakness. We can take the offer he has and see if there are experimental trials with lotteries or other set ups.”

  Carol agreed. “I’ve been looking into some alternative lung cancer treatments, and I know a few holistic shops around here that have great supplementary options. We’ll take what we can to save the company, and we’ll do our best to find what we can for Mom.” She turned her head and looked toward me. “Besides, the last thing Mom would want would be for Belle to do something dangerous.”

  I frowned. “I don’t think Mr. McManus is dangerous, it’s just...he’s not exactly trustworthy.”

  Carol shook her head as if to say “baby sisters” and then said, “That’s close enough to the same thing. Look, we’ve gotten through a lot in the last few years, and we can get through more, whether Drake McManus pays us what our company’s actually worth or not. Don’t do something you’ll regret forever, Belle. It’s not worth it.”

  I put a hand over my father’s shoulder and squeezed. I wasn’t sure I would regret it if I could get Mom the treatment she needed to save her life. There were still options for Stage Three lung cancer, but since her diagnosis, Mom had been unresponsive to treatment and been upgraded from two to three already. I was living in terror of the day she’d end up at stage four, let alone when she’d…

  No, I would not think like that. Mom was going to live, damn it. She had to.

  “I know. I just wish we had other options.”

  Dad sighed, and I tried to ignore the tears welling up in his eyes. “Sometimes, there just aren’t any.”

  ***

  “You are in luck. Who else would bring you the best in Chinese takeout and all of the tabloids you can stand? Plus, I stopped by the Redbox and rented a few current films. Are you ready for some Chris Pratt or are you ready for some Chris Pratt?” I joked, setting my loot down on Mom’s bedside table.

  She’d been moved into her own room a few months ago, and now had a hospital-style bed, the kind that could be adjusted with the touch of a button. How Dad financed that, I don’t know, but I had noticed he had stopped wearing his wedding ring. It turned my stomach to think he’d have to pawn things just to pay for the necessities that made Mom’s life easier. It didn’t seem fair. Of course, nothing in life had ever been guaranteed to be that way in the first place.

  Mom sat up straighter in bed, and I tried to keep my usual, sunny smile on my face. The first round of chemo was over, and now they just had to wait and see if she’d have to start chemo again in the next few months. We’d been hoping to do the experimental medicine instead in the interim. It seemed a better bet. Still, the chemo had worked its course and now Mom just seemed so much older. Her skin was tissue-paper thin, her bones seemed to protrude now that she’d lost weight, and her bald scalp was covered with a stylish, colorful silk scarf.

  I hated what was happening to her, hated seeing her slip away. Hated that the best chance we had was out of our damn grasp.

  “Sweetie,” Mom said as I pulled out some plates I’d smuggled from the kitchen. “You are a lifesaver. I can’t tell you how much I needed a break from your sister’s macrobiotic everything.”

  “I probably shouldn’t sneak you this. I doubt there’s anything healthy or redeeming in sweet and sour chicken.”

  “But I’ve been craving it for two weeks, and it was one of the things I fantasized ab
out keeping down when I was in chemo,” she pointed out.

  “True,” I said as I scooped the rice and sauced up chicken chunks onto the plate. I’d get my food later. After the crappy excuse for negotiations today, I’d lost my appetite. “But I think Carol would still murder me,” I finished, moving her tray to her lap and placing the plate over it. We always had everything available in here; it was practically a hospital room now. “How are you doing?”

  “I just watched eight hours of HGTV. I think I could renovate anything,” she chirped and then winked at me. “First step—get me a sledgehammer so I can tear out all non-load bearing walls. What about you? Did the merger talks go well?”

  “You don’t need to concern yourself with those.”

  Mom’s smile dimmed, making my heart ache. “Honey, don’t sugar coat it. Did things go okay?”

  I sat down by her bed and took her hand. “We’re going into extended negotiations, but I think we can get the leverage we need to draft up a deal. I really do.”

  She leaned over and kissed my cheek. “That’s wonderful, sweetheart.”

  “Now, are we going to watch some Guardians of the Galaxy for the millionth time or what?”

  ***

  “Dad, we need to talk.”

  My heart thudded in my chest when I burst into his soon-to-be-shuttered downtown office the next day. I’d tossed and turned all night, debating my decision to take Drake McManus’s deal. I knew it was a gamble, knew exactly the kinds of things I’d be giving up and what I might be losing. No, what I would definitely be losing. But I’d also dreamed all night, dreamed of a life without Mom in it, dreamed of Dad withering away without his soulmate, dreamed about the end of our family. Mom was the heart for all us and without her, the Fontaine family wouldn’t survive, not really. If there was a way to save her, then I was going to do it, no matter what it took.

  He frowned, but turned to George, our company’s chief finance officer, and nodded. George looked back at me with a raw, naked look that made me want to roll my eyes. He’d been flirting with me for years, trying to get me to go out with him since he’d first seen me when I’d come home from spring break about four years ago. To be fair, he wasn’t unattractive, not with his wiry swimmer’s build, green eyes, and cleft chin. However, there was something about him, something so self-absorbed, even in this town, that always drove me away. God, how I wished he’d take “no” for an answer, but George never passed up a chance to ask me out. Unfortunately, he was also my dad’s right-hand man, and I’d never wanted to add to Dad’s growing list of problems by telling him about George’s somewhat more skeevy side.

  Besides, maybe I was just being overly sensitive about the whole thing.

  “George, can you take a few minutes? I need to speak with Belle.”

  George stood and passed by me, his eyes lingering on my breasts. God, if he thought he was being subtle, then he couldn’t have been more wrong.

  “Sure, Belle, if you want to grab lunch later, I know this great Italian place.”

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  “Really,” he pressed. “Because they do the best eggplant parmesan in the entire city. You’d love it.”

  Shows what you know, I hate eggplant, not that you’d know or care.

  I forced myself to stay smiling for the sake of my father. “I think I’ll pass. Have a good day, George.” He paused and something dark seemed to flicker across his expression, then he smiled back at me before hurrying out. I turned to my father and sighed. “Dad, I’m going to call Mr. McManus today.”

  “What?” he asked, bolting from his chair so fast you’d have thought there was an electric current running through the seat. “You can’t. I won’t let you!”

  “If we don’t do this, we’re finished, and then Mom doesn’t just lose a chance for better care, but her chance for decent care at all. Dad, it’s not because you asked me but because I’m worried for Mom. She means as much to me as she does to you or to Carol. I can do this.”

  My dad stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder and then stroked my hair back. “You know the kind of things he’ll want from you. It probably won’t be just long, boring talks over contract details.”

  “We don’t know for sure that he’ll ask for more,” I said, knowing the objection sounded weak even to my ears.

  “It’s Drake McManus. We know there’s always more; there’re always strings.”

  I nodded. “But I’m twenty-four. It’s my choice to make, and I choose to help Mom, no matter what.”

  He hugged me tightly, and I could feel him shaking just a little. “Please don’t say yes.”

  “Dad, I’m doing this whether you want me to or not. I just wanted to let you know first so that you wouldn’t be surprised when Mr. McManus calls you. This matters. If it helps give Mom more years or even helps her find an experimental drug treatment that gets her to remission, then it’s worth it.” I pulled away from him, working overtime to keep my composure. Dad needed to believe I was one hundred percent okay with this, even if such a crazy idea had me quivering inside. “Please, you and Mom have always been there for me. Let me be there for her, too.”

  He sighed and glanced at the picture on his desk, a photo snapped of the four of us smiling at the ski slopes outside of Vail when I was still in high school. “I love the three of you more than anything. Everything I do, everything I tried to build was for you all and so you could have the kind of life I hoped you would.”

  Reaching out, I took his hand and squeezed it. “Then let me do this for you.” I turned and hurried out of the room before Dad could say anything else. I didn’t need him to talk me out of it, didn’t need his own guilt and worries to wear off on me. I just needed a few minutes to catch my breath, to calm down, and then I’d call Drake. The last thing I wanted was for him to notice my shaking voice or nervousness on the line. Keeping my head up past my dad’s secretary, I rushed into the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

  Leaning low over the sink, I splashed water over my face. The cool drops slid over my cheeks, and I almost felt normal. Almost. I looked back into the mirror and wondered if my eyes would shine back at me as wildly as I truly felt. My heart hadn’t stopped thumping the whole time with my father, and now it was a riot in my chest.

  “I can do this. I can make this deal.”

  Funny how I’m just a bargaining chip.

  But for my mom and for my family, I’d do anything.

  Easing out of the door, I was about to pull my cell from my purse when I bumped into George. Apparently, he’d been waiting in the salon for me the whole time. Ugh. He was trying for casual, leaning against one of the sofas in the waiting room.

  “So, you ready for that lunch?”

  “I said no.”

  “Okay, then let’s really cut to the chase.”

  Not likely.

  “And?” I said.

  “I talked to Carol this morning when she came in for running some figures. She told me everything that dick McManus wants.”

  “What I agree to do is my own business.”

  He reached out and grabbed my forearm so tightly that I let out an involuntary yip, but still he held on. “Belle, you don’t have to do this. Think about us.”

  “First, we’re not an item and we never were.”

  He clenched his jaw, and I could see a vein popping out in his forehead before he spoke again. “You should be mine, Belle, and one day I’m going to find a way to make it so.”

  I jerked back from him. “No. I’m not yours, and I never will be.”

  Chapter Three

  Drake

  “Sir, I hope Ms. Fontaine arrives soon,” my driver Leonard said with his thick Haitian accent.

  Outside of Mrs. Johnson, he was my most trusted assistant. He was one of the only people I could actually laugh with, those times I could chuckle at all. Maybe it was because he’d seen his share of tragedy, too, things we didn’t get too deeply into that had sent him to the States almost fifteen years ago.
Still, he was quiet and calm, a balance to the churning waves I barely kept clamped down.

  I nodded, folding my newspaper and setting it on my lap. Then I looked out the window of my private jet and out toward the tarmac. “She better be.”

  Leonard sighed. “Should I mention, sir, that I don’t approve of this strategy?”

  “You have, and you just did again.”

  “Good, because she’s not just a toy you can bid on.”

  I sighed and raked a hand through my black hair. Ever since I’d gotten out of the Marines, I’d hated having it short, anything that even came close to reminding me of a buzz cut. I was done with that life, even if it kept haunting me.

  “I’m aware, but I need this deal, too. My side venture, the talent agency for kids in the inner city, the one trying to help people in South Central Los Angeles, needs a more experienced hand. Someone like Maurice Fontaine can lead it and help it grow.”

  “Then why the games, sir? If you just explained it this way…”

  “Because games are what I have. It would be a publicity disaster for my greater company if people heard even a whisper of the idea that my charity was crumbling through mismanagement. Maurice might have no idea how to Tweet, but he knows how to groom and promote talent, and he’s a very dedicated father. I think he can both reorganize that charity and work closely with those children. The smokescreen, the swagger of the deal, it all keeps my image in place. When you’re the Sultan of Spin, the image is everything.”

  “And you luring a girl to your island, that’s all part of it, too?”