“Right. Waste not, want not.” Jacobi grew up wanting. “I don’t mean to complicate your routine.”
“Once Mr. Dixon confirms, we’ll come up with a menu you’ll love.”
Mr. Dixon doesn’t know what I like, and I’ve had enough of the conversation. I don’t have any hard feelings toward Chef, but this is supposed to be my home, for however long. I moved here and Jacobi begged me not to leave. I should have some say.
I drop off the stool and go upstairs, my eyes on his door, wondering if it’s going to open before I reach mine. No. I barely refrain from slamming my bedroom door. I hate that I want to check on him. I hate that I feel like I’m a prisoner here. And I hate that I can’t rage at him because he’s sick in bed.
Mostly I hate that I miss Jake.
Chapter 5
Jacobi
I stare at the papers on my desk. I’d brought them upstairs to my office as soon as she signed them. Mr. Turlowitz is waiting on them. But they’re here. I can scan them and they’d be in his inbox in three minutes. Natural Glow would be mine. Mine to dismantle and lay my mother’s ghost to rest.
When I sat down to work, I took them out, fully intending to finally move forward. Yet, I didn’t move to do a thing with them.
I shift my gaze to the screen directly in front of me. It’s the announcement from a year ago that London Vanderbeek would take the helm of Natural Glow after her father’s retirement shortly before his sudden death from a heart attack. Her photo was splashed around business circles. So young, they said. Would she be able to fill the role her father was vacating?
It’s one of many articles that I have about her. A collection I grew like an obsessed maniac after I almost made one of the worst decisions of my life. A drastic choice that London saved me from and will never know about.
After I learned about her, I scoured the web for all the details. I knew where she went to school, who she banked with, all the interviews she’d done. It’s all here in this file. The one I stare at too long. The one I keep on my computer’s desktop, labeled LV like an idiot. I’d never recommend a client save and name a secret file so openly.
Before I met her, I would look at this picture and wonder what she was like. This picture isn’t a normal business headshot. She’s grinning, in a shirt or dress with spaghetti straps, the backdrop of the city behind her, sunset and everything. I know that view. It’s the one from her penthouse.
She’s everything in this picture and more. Young. Vibrant. Knowledgeable. A headshot like this might tank on Wall Street, but for those who want to sell makeup and make money from their homes, it’s a promise. Young and carefree.
What the picture doesn’t show is how thoughtful she is. How considerate. Her heart’s bigger than anyone’s I know. Granted, that’s a small basis for comparison, but I haven’t cared about anyone’s heart before her.
She brought me a Coke and meds, then gave me a massage. I’d kept her massage oil and she found it, but I couldn’t be ashamed that I lifted it from her Cabo suite. Not only does it remind me of better days when I was a kid, and of her, it’s really damn helpful.
An alert pops on my screen. Cannon. He’s here with a new phone to replace the one I broke. Kase Donovan is with him. Kase has all the unsavory connections. He didn’t grow up with parents getting beaten down and ramrodded for money. His parents were the ones doing it. They were work-for-hire, and as much as he tried to distance himself from that world, its claws stuck in him. He might know what gutter Sully crawled in after probation and what sewer rat’s helping him out.
I click out of London’s file and buzz them through the gate. The papers get tossed haphazardly in a drawer. At the window, I check the courtyard for London. She’s lounging by the hot tub, laptop open on her long, tanned legs. She’s wearing a tankini today, but the extra swatch of fabric does nothing to hide her body.
I open the French doors and step out onto the deck. She looks up from shading the laptop. It would be easier to work inside, but she’s a California girl born and raised. Being outdoors by the water is in her blood.
“I have a couple of business associates coming over.” She knows Cannon, but I doubt she wants the reminder of our wedding. I shove my hands in the pockets of my loose white shorts.
“Okay.” Her head dips like she focused back on her computer, but with those aviator shades, I can’t tell where she’s actually looking.
I give my head a firm shake. There. Done with that. I don’t want her alarmed and she won’t be. I get inside in time to hear the guys pile through the front door.
Kase’s voice drifts up. “I can’t believe you aren’t rotting in jail.”
“The cop wanted to debrief me herself,” Cannon replies, chuckling.
“Gentlemen,” I say from the top of the stairs.
Both of them look up and then Kase’s attention is snatched away by something outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. I know exactly what he’s seeing. The back windows overlook the courtyard.
He’s eyeing my wife, his brows lifted and his eyes full of appreciation. “So, that’s the missus?”
Cannon snorts but cranes his neck in the same direction. “In name only. Judging from the frosty vows, I doubt the marriage has been consummated. Our boy doesn’t have that much game.”
Kase ducks his head like he completely agrees. I wish they were wrong.
“She hasn’t stabbed me in my sleep yet,” I say as I take the stairs down. “I have more game than you think.”
Cannon jiggles a bag with a small rectangular box in it. “Let’s get your phone back online.”
I lead them to my main floor office, the same one I’d taken the vows in. No one is allowed in my upper office and I usually lock it when I’m not in there. Which makes my oversight the other day more startling. It’s as if I’m giving London the opening to learn all my dirty secrets. If she doesn’t hate me now, she will if she learns what I tried to do.
We work until my phone’s up and running. No new texts arrived. But then London hasn’t been out of the house where Sully can get to her.
“You sure it’s him?” Kase asks, studying the picture. “I don’t remember him ever being that competent.”
“Your parents couldn’t get to him.”
Kase rolls a heavy shoulder, his dark eyes speculative. “Yeah, but he was a petty side hustle. The pay for taking out someone like Sully isn’t worth the risk. If someone found the body, the police would still ask questions, look for witnesses.”
My eyes track London’s outline in the photo. It would’ve been one for my file if it wasn’t taken by a deranged man. “So, who’d he connect himself to since he’s been out of jail?”
“That’s the million-dollar question.” Cannon settles himself across from my desk with his own laptop and kicks his feet up on my desk. “Who else have you pissed off?”
* * *
London
I clutched the phone to my ear. Jacobi’s having friends over, and I know him well enough to know that he doesn’t have friendly social visits. Pair that with how he begged me not to leave, and something’s going on.
When Diana answers, I say, “We need to talk. About everything.”
“I don’t think I can go over there,” she says in a ragged whisper.
I roll my eyes to the wide blue sky. My ass is going to have a permanent imprint of this lounge chair. The days are getting longer and I’m going insane. I need Diana to tell me what the hell’s going on, and I need Jacobi to do the same.
So far, it isn’t looking likely for either one.
“I live here, Diana.” My tone is flat.
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… he obviously hates me. He doesn’t hate you.”
Hate me? No. But I don’t dare think of what he could feel for me—and what he wouldn’t do about it. “He’s not exactly benevolent.”
“He can’t get to me, so he’s using you.”
Yep. And I need to know why. “You have to tell me everything you remember from
the days the company was formed.”
“You know the story, London.”
Her placating tone flips the cap off my temper. “Except for the part where Dad paid to have sex with you and you two snorted lines together.”
Silence. I let it go for a few beats, then say, “So excuse me if I don’t think I know the whole story.”
“How do— No—What—”
“Jacobi Dixon has already proven quite resourceful and vindictive. How do you think I know? I saw. With my own eyes.” I’m not usually so snippy with Diana, and I don’t care how right Jacobi is. If he costs me my relationship with Diana, I don’t think I can forgive him.
Diana lets out a disgusted grunt. There’s a familiar sniffle on the other end of the line. She’s crying. “You’re right. We need to discuss this in person. I have an early dinner date with Roland. Can we talk tomorrow?”
Has she talked to him about me and Jacobi? She signed an NDA too, but I don’t know how close they’ve grown since I’ve been gone. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’ll bring lunch. And London…” There are more sniffles. “Just remember that both your father and I love you, and whatever we did was for your benefit.”
Which was why I was sitting here with a husband I didn’t really know.
Diana continues. “And if we didn’t share those… details… of our life, it was because we didn’t want you to think anything less of us. Less of me.”
“I still love you, but I need the truth. Have fun with Roland tonight.”
I hang up the phone and slant my eyes toward Jacobi’s main floor office window. I heard the guys come in. It has to be Cannon and… what was his other friend’s name. Kase? Seeing Cannon again doesn’t interest me. Talk about seeing me at my lowest. What is the other guy like?
Do I care?
Am I safe with them here?
Jacobi wouldn’t let anything happen to me, and he wouldn’t be friends with anyone like that. I’m unceasingly confident about a man who forced me to marry him, but he hasn’t appeared at my bedroom door expecting me to put out like a good little wife.
He tricked me, but he didn’t use brute force. I’m not scared of him.
And just like I’m not scared of him, I can’t buy that our time in Mexico meant nothing on his end. I can’t escape the feeling that I’d gotten to him. If he was really this much of a recluse, if this last week was any indication of how he lived his life, then being that close to someone day after day affected him.
Or, he’s just that possessive and serious about not wanting anyone else to touch me.
As if I can let that happen after being with him.
My body knows very well I’m still hanging around Jacobi. My body doesn’t care he’d gone by Jake and lied to me. My body has no clue when I’ve laid down at night that I locked the door against the man it knows as Jake. I ache until I manage to fall into a fitful sleep, but I refuse to give myself relief when I’m only a wall away from him.
My body wants Jacobi, but I want Natural Glow. I also want to know what all of this is really about.
Well, sitting out here for the rest of the afternoon, ruminating over the same old problem, isn’t going to help. I have friends of my own, and while I can’t tell them the whole sordid story, I can tell them that I’m married. When my company is gone and Jacobi has no more use for me, I have friends who can piece me back together.
I message Penni and Holland. Guess what! I’m married!!! Want to come over to my new place?
It takes ten seconds before my phone blows up. I ignore their calls and send them the address instead. Come over now!
Jacobi isn’t going to like this.
I smile and go in search of snacks.
While I’m in the kitchen, I hear the guys coming out of the office. Thanks to the open floor plan, I don’t have to spy. Jacobi’s gaze hits me first.
I add extra sugar to my smile. “I’m having a couple of friends over.”
Jacobi’s face morphs from mild interest to constipated disbelief. “What?”
“Penni and Holland.” I wiggle a finger at the two friends who seemed amused at Jacobi’s discomfort. Cannon looks the same as the other day, like Jacobi pulled him out of the laundry pile. The one I think is Kase is tall like them, with ink-black hair and hard dark eyes that dance with a humorous glint. He likes that I put Jacobi on edge.
Jacobi’s eyes narrow like he knows I’m up to something. I’m not. I’m bored. And annoying him is turning out to be a little fun.
I keep my tone light. “And since I’m contractually obligated not to say anything about you knoooow, we’ll have to come up with a story.”
“We’re dealing with something serious here, London. You can’t have friends over.”
“They’re on their way. You’re the one that insisted on marriage without thinking through the details of actually being married. This is my house, too. You took my job. I have nothing to do.”
His brows drop, suspicious. “I thought you were going to apply for work.”
I put my hands on my hips, liking how his gaze absently traces down my torso to my bare thighs. He doesn’t know he’s doing it. “It took two minutes to make my resume, Jacobi. Owner, CEO of Natural Glow. Boom. Done. Plus, it wouldn’t do any good to apply for jobs when you haven’t told me what I can say about my company being sold.” My brain’s working overtime. He’s been so single-minded on getting Natural Glow away from me that he didn’t ask himself, Then what? “It doesn’t really make sense to apply for a job when I sold a multi-million dollar company. I mean… do I tell them I have a gambling problem? That I spend excessively on shoes?” I arch a brow. “That I was swindled out of millions by a con artist?”
He gets tenser with each sentence and I only grow more triumphant. Cannon’s fighting a grin at the attention and Kase bounces back and forth between us like we’re on the turf at Wimbledon. Upending Jacobi’s tightly controlled world is my new hobby.
“You don’t have to work,” Jacobi says tightly. “You have enough money. And as you said, this is half your house now.”
I do have my own money. But I don’t want to use it when I could be making more. “I’m twenty-five. Staying at the beach and soaking up the sun by the hot tub for eternity isn’t good enough. I want to contribute to society.”
“Then volunteer.”
He has a point. Before, I had the company and the livelihoods of those under me to care for. I can do the outreach that I would previously assign to an internal team. But I can’t let him win this round. “Regardless, I’m not a hermit. My friends are coming over and we need a story.” I glance at the other two. “You’re welcome to stay.”
Kase opens his mouth, his eyes gleaming mischievously, but Jacobi beats him. “They have work to do.”
Cannon can’t hold his grin back anymore. When I first saw him, the word ruffian came to mind, like an old-fashioned ne’er-do-well. But he isn’t so threatening when he smiles. I don’t want to soften toward him, toward any of them, but I think that ship is gone with Jacobi. Knowing that Jacobi has friends who understand him well enough to know when he needs to loosen the hell up comforts me.
“I guess we have work to do,” Cannon echoes, his grin remaining in place. “Thanks for the invite.”
Kase gives me a two-finger salute, casts Jacobi one last bemused look, and leaves with Cannon.
“What do you want for a story?” he says, deceptively calm when the hard set to his shoulders says he’s anything but. This is the serious, brooding man I caught glimpses of in Cabo.
His scruff has thickened to short beard status and the dark shade of it makes his eyes even more bottomless. He’s wearing the same thing he’s worn every other day, only in different variations and colors. Baggy T-shirt and board shorts. It’d be easier to separate him from Jake if he donned a suit every day.
Back to the question at hand. It’ll get my mind off his appearance. “Whatever doesn’t make me sound desperate and pathetic.”
He st
alks toward the island and leans his hard body against the granite countertop. I dig out a few of his Cokes to share with the girls. I doubt he’ll need forty of them before we get to the store again. Next comes yogurt.
That’s all I have for choices. The few leftovers I brought from my place aren’t company-worthy. I rummage around, very aware that my ass is sticking out of the fridge. “Don’t you have anything besides protein?”
“There’s bananas.” His voice is rough, like after we had sex.
I dig deeper in the fridge and find the bananas.
His dark gaze tracks me. “Why would you sound desperate and pathetic?”
I pause, knowing full well that I don’t hide my embarrassment well. I shared my stories, thinking I’d never see him again. Reminding him of my not-so-private mortification only causes me to relive it. But hey, maybe it’ll make him rethink this marriage thing. “I could get a little overzealous. In the past. With my relationships. Remember?”
He settles on a stool, a wicked glint in his eye. “I don’t recall clearly. You’ll have to remind me.”
The look I give him could wither an entire botanical garden. Inviting the girls over was supposed to give me the upper-hand, throw him off. Instead, he’s flipping it back on me with our little fake get-to-know-you.
He’d be mortified that I was under his roof when I told him.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting someone in your life to feel special.
Time to test it out. “Like the time I knew one of my college boyfriend’s grandma crocheted drink cozies and learned some simple stitches before he introduced me to her. I spent the weekend bonding with Nana and he dumped me when we got back. Or when I dated a guy my senior year of high school and he told me he collected wooden duck decoys because his grandpa used to carve them, so I took whittling lessons.”
Jacobi’s cheeks puff as he poorly stifles a snort. Another strangled sound escapes him and his face flushes red.
He’s trying not to laugh.
Redeemed: Ruined and Redeemed Duet - Book 2 Page 5
