I waited for the tears to come, but they never did. I think I exhausted my ability to cry over the Kramers in the Chicago mansion. Another small victory.
Natalie’s face was frozen in that pitying, horrified expression that I loathed. “Jessica, you should turn him in. Go to the police.”
“No,” I said in a sharp voice. “I don’t want to relive everything. I don’t want to go through all of that only to see him walk. I don’t have any evidence.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, but she closed her mouth under my glare. “What about Luke?”
Suddenly, I was a lot less willing to discuss him. “What about him?”
Natalie rolled her eyes. “What happened between you guys?”
“He broke up with me,” I snapped.
She threw her hands up. “Geez, Jessica. I just wanted to know.”
My hands gripped the splintered edge of the crappy kitchen table. “He was the best thing in my life. When we first started out, I thought he was just going to be a typical spoiled rich boy, but he’s not at all like that. Luke made me feel like I was normal. He made me feel cherished, and I’ve never felt that in my life.”
There was a rattling sound as Natalie reached into the cupboard to grab two mugs. “I knew he would hurt you. I know that you think that he was great, but he still dumped you over a bit of money.”
“It wasn’t a bit of money,” I said hollowly. “His father’s worth five billion.”
She whirled around with the two mugs and one of them careened out of her grip to smash on the floor. She didn’t even look down.
“Natalie!”
“Five billion?” She ignored the smashed mug as a wistful look came over her face. “There’s no way his father would give him that much. Rich people always leave a portion to charity, to people in their lives—I don’t know.”
As Natalie sank to the floor, I traced a circle into the table with my finger. Maybe I was a bit ridiculous to assume he would choose me over all that money. “Anyways, his dad called and demanded that he stop seeing me, or Luke would never see a cent of that money. So he did.”
She looked up as she heard the tremble in my voice. “How are you holding up with all this?”
I covered my face with my hands. I tried to shrug it off, but my breath choked and Natalie sprang to her feet with broken bits of ceramic in her hands. The truth was that it hurt a lot to be passed over for money. I told him I didn’t care. I didn’t want to take his money. Ten grand a month was nothing compared to the amount that his father would leave him. If he left him any money at all.
I love him. I thought of the old saying, “Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” Whoever came up with that was full of shit. It was far worse to have a brief taste of true happiness, only to have it ripped away forever. Ignorance is bliss.
Natalie’s gripped my shoulders and hugged my back. “Jessica, you deserve better. You will find better.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Yes, you will. I don’t care how much money it was. Do you think that money would make a difference in his hedonistic lifestyle? He already has millions. What’s the difference? Is there a super exclusive club for billionaires only, or something? Or maybe he wouldn’t be able to buy the private tropical island he always wanted. Cry me a goddamn river.”
My heart blazed because she was right, but then I remembered what Brandon told me. “It’s not about the money, it’s—his legacy.”
“You make your own legacy.”
My heart kept flip-flopping. It was a lot of money and Luke barely knew me. I gripped my hair and pulled. Whatever. It didn’t matter. It was no good to keep obsessing over him. The best thing I could do for myself was move on.
* * *
I spent the next day in a jet-lagged stupor. I felt like shit. The best thing I had in my life was gone, and the money in my bank was dwindling. I sat in my computer chair, staring at the four-digit number in my bank account. My eyes blurred. I would give it all to have him back. More than anything, I wanted to fall into his arms. His hands sliding up and down my body was a greater balm than any drug I ever took. I opened my phone, hoping to have a voicemail expressing his sincerest regret and begging me to come back, but there was nothing.
I should just Google him. I promised Natalie I wouldn’t, but it was too easy for me to type his name into that white bar and hit ‘enter.’
Luke Pardini takes red-eye to Chicago without blonde escort
I balked at “blonde escort,” but at least they weren’t mentioning me by name. I clicked on the link as my stomach fell through. He left already? There was a picture of him dressed in the same clothes I’d seen him in yesterday. His suitcase was in his hand as he dashed across SFO. Another picture showed him arriving in Chicago. Had his father taken a turn for the worse? Is that why he left so abruptly? Maybe he changed his mind.
“If he changed his mind, he would have told you. He’s done with you. Get over it,” I said to the empty room.
My email suddenly blinked and I realized I had several unread emails. Recognizing neither, I clicked on the first. Holy shit! I quickly scanned it and realized I had an interview at one of the places I had applied to before I left to London. The interview was in a few days. I hastily shot them an email, agreeing to the interview.
Finally! I tried not to get my hopes up, but I couldn’t help but grin as I reread the email. Suddenly, a horrifying thought popped in my head: What if they Google my name and find all these escort articles?
I headed to the bookmarked sugarbaby website and typed in my username and password. I was determined to delete everything, but something happened.
Error: that username does not exist
What? Of course, it exists! I tried it again. Nothing. I tried to log into the email I created for the account and that was gone too. Finally, I tried searching for myself on the sugarbaby website. Then I looked for Luke’s. Nothing. It was as if everything vanished.
Luke must have paid someone to do this. To hide the evidence.
The euphoria at getting a job interview quickly evaporated. Standing up, I decided to go to the store. I needed to get out of the stifling apartment. Natalie was at work and I hated the silence that permeated the walls. I grabbed my purse and flung open the door as a crowd of people surrounded me, screaming. What the fuck? I blinked in the unusually bright, winter sunlight.
“Miss Knight!”
They elbowed each other in their attempts to shove huge black cameras in my face. Flash. Click.
“Miss Knight, what did you and Luke do together? Would you like to sell a story to Huffington Post?”
The woman shoved a microphone under my nose. I stared at in shock for a second, refusing to look at the huge video camera aimed at my face, and smacked it away. Didn’t they understand that I didn’t want to be harassed?
“No. Get off of my lawn.”
None of them budged. When I was with Luke, he always shoved through the paparazzi like moving through a packed concert. I edged through them to get to my crappy car parked on the street. They followed me like a strange, nonthreatening mob and encircled my car. All of their requests were drowned by the car’s engine and they finally moved out of the way when it lurched forward.
They took pictures through the windshield; some of them still screaming requests. Jesus. How long is this going to last? Surely, people would get tired of reading about the blonde hooker—escort, or whatever it was they were calling me.
I didn’t really feel like going to the store because I knew I would have to drive back home with the groceries, where they were camped out. I veered my car into the highway and headed instead towards the soup kitchen.
I wasn’t scheduled to come in, but I couldn’t handle sitting in my apartment alone all day. As I walked towards the kitchen, I saw that half its windows were smashed.
“What happened?” I asked the men sweeping up the broken glass.
They shrugged. “I don’t think you’re supp
osed to go in there.”
Ignoring him, I pushed through the door and my shoes crunched over broken glass. Inside was a scene of devastation. Black graffiti covered the yellow walls in high arches. I bent over and righted a chair. As I walked through to the kitchen, a sick feeling descended over me.
Shelly was there with a clipboard in her hands, shaking her head. “Our inventory suffered a huge loss. They took our best pots and made a mess out of the pantry.”
“Who did this?” I said, shaking with quiet fury.
“You haven’t even seen the worst of it.”
She beckoned me to the back, which led to the small garden I helped build. I stared in dismay at the lumps of brown earth everywhere and pushed the door open in a rage. There was nothing left but tatters of green, scattered among the earth. All of our herbs—gone. The bok choy and the cabbage lay on the earth like headless corpses. Weeks of work, gone in an instant.
“It doesn’t matter,” I croaked. “We’ll just have to do it again. Re-plant everything.”
“I’m not sure Carol will want to. It’ll be hard enough replacing all the supplies we lost. There’s just no money in the budget for the garden.”
I felt the familiar sting of frustration at Carol’s rigid policies until I remembered: I have money. I could pour thousands into this place.
Ok, it wasn’t like I had thousands upon thousands, but the money Luke gave me would help repair most of the damage. Giving your money away is such a stupid idea. But the money was making me feel sick. I didn’t want it anymore. The articles written about me made me feel ashamed, even though I had done nothing wrong. It reminded me that at its core, our relationship was represented by dollar signs. I knew that it meant much more than that, but to feel good about myself I had to get rid of it. All of it.
I cried when I got home and wrote the check, clutching an eight thousand, five hundred and sixty two dollar check. I couldn’t exactly empty my entire bank account—I still needed to eat and pay my bills—but at least most of it was gone.
You are so fucking stupid. Just shoot yourself now. It would be the most generous, stupid thing I ever did. Natalie’s going to freak.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
Carol looked at me as if I was on the edge of sanity, which I probably was.
Just take it before I change my mind. “Yes, on one condition, though.”
She folded her arms. “What?”
“I want more authority in the kitchen. I want to be able to make whatever I want. I also want to install a security system so that this never happens again. Cameras and padlocked gates enclosing the backyard.”
“Fine.”
Carol stuck out her hand and I grabbed it numbly.
Fine? I was expecting a fight, but I guess once I started waving money in front of her face—nothing else mattered. I turned around and tried to ignore the screaming voice in my head, calling me an idiot for spending the majority of my money. What would happen when another disaster hit and the soup kitchen ran out of funds?
You’re only doing this for Luke. To prove to him that you don’t want his money.
As I got in my car, I turned the volume way up in the hopes it would drown out the voice in my head.
* * *
At the end of another workday, the BART ground to a halt at my stop and I wearily stood to my feet, following the rush of passengers into the frigid air. I walked down the steps and thought back to the time when I hurried up these steps in a borrowed dress to meet Luke in the city.
When I first met him, he was like a dream. I could remember all the times he held me. I remembered his hands, which had begun to learn where I liked to be touched the most, and I felt so damn lonely.
I had a job. Health insurance. I was in therapy for the first time in my life. All was well, except that at night, I still cried for the man who had ditched me.
“There are plenty of other guys out there,” Natalie repeated over and over. “Tons.”
Except there was only one man I was interested in. He saved me—he changed my life. I was almost sorry to see the paparazzi dwindle from my lawn. It was a testament to time. Gradually, the scandal of our brief relationship was ebbing away. No one cared anymore. I wondered, as I did often, if Luke thought of me as often as I did. Was his father still alive? Was he still catering to his every demand?
Once or twice, I thought about calling him, but I didn’t want to be that girl. I wasn’t going to be pathetic—I would not chase after a man who didn’t want me. I didn’t need him. That’s what I told myself, anyways.
I hope he’s happy, wherever he is. The thought of him spending the rest of his days miserable made my heart sick, and yet it was I who told him that he would. I wished I could take those words back.
I was in a gloomy mood when I shoved through the front door. Christmas was next week and Natalie was going home to her parents. She and Ben were taking a break, so the holidays were going to be rough for her. I was staying behind. Luke will probably be lonely, too. He has nothing but vipers in his family.
“Natalie,” I called out as I opened my apartment door and shut it behind me. “I hope to God we have booze, because I’m feeling the need to do some drinking.”
“In here.”
Her voice sounded strange. Did Ben call? I hung up my scarf and coat rather quickly. I walked into the kitchen and stopped abruptly.
He was there, sitting around our crappy kitchen table. His back was to me, but I recognized his dark brown head and his straight back. He wore a black cashmere sweater and dark jeans that looked like they had been ironed. His head turned around and those lips that I had fantasized about every day, spoke to me.
“Jessica.”
Behind him, Natalie stood up and retreated to her bedroom. I was still too stunned to really register that he was actually here, in my apartment.
“What are you doing here?”
I thought briefly of running into his arms while sobbing madly, which was what always happened in romantic comedies, but that wasn’t my instinct. I just felt numb.
He stood up but didn’t come any closer. I realized with a shock that Luke’s eyes were gleaming. Was he crying?
“These past few weeks have been the worst in my life. I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said—”
It swelled inside me. “Luke, I didn’t mean it. You’re a wonderful person; you’re my favorite person. You’re not like your dad.”
“I was.”
I could tell how much it hurt him to admit it. He pushed himself off the table and walked to me, and my heart sped as he came closer.
“I heard what you did with my money. I was thinking about you one night and I looked up your kitchen’s website. I saw your name on the front page, and I knew what you had done.”
He touched my face and a torrent of emotion suddenly boiled up, like the burst of liquid from a shaken soda can.
“You left me. You made me feel like I was nothing.”
“I know—”
“I had to deal with all this craziness on my own.” Tears slid down my face, but I stared at him boldly. I was trying to look for something inside him that would make up for his terrible behavior.
“I know and I’m so sorry.” He grasped my hand and squeezed it, willing me to be silent. “These past few weeks have been miserable. I missed you so much. I realized how much I love who you are. You’re the bravest girl I’ve ever met, and you’re beautiful and honest. You could have made money by selling stories to the press, but you didn’t.”
I choked into the hands that cradled my face.
“I don’t know where this is headed, but I can’t let you go. I know that I’ll never find someone like you.”
I don’t know which of us started forward, but we both launched ourselves and our faces joined, the salty tears dripping into my mouth as he held me so tightly against his chest that I couldn’t breathe. Then I felt like I was in one of those romantic comedies, those silly movies where the man picks up the gi
rl in his arms and kisses her like it’s the last one he’ll ever have.
He came back for me.
I broke off the kiss and laughed in utter joy as Luke’s smile spread across his face.
Chapter 11
I stretched out on the beach towel, closing my eyes as the sun stroked my body with its warm gaze. The gentle roll of the ocean soothed my ears with its gentle lullaby. Eyes closed, I groped with my hand and found the tropical drink perched on a mound of hot sand.
I could get used to this.
There were perks to having a rich boyfriend with access to one of the most exclusive, private beaches in Bora Bora. I opened my eyes cautiously and a bright sky burned my eyeballs. I sat up and watched Luke swimming through the ocean waves, his arms rising and water droplets glittering from them like diamonds.
He needed to get away from it all. Luke managed to reconcile with his father. He told me that he went to the hospice after we broke up. After his father died, Luke only received a meager five hundred thousand with a note:
After all these years, I realized I loved the money more than my own family. It’s too much for one person. I do not want to change the man you’ve become. I love you, Luke. -Dad
Luke’s father had given a similar portion to his uncle, who did not waste time in uttering how disappointed he was. The remainder of his fortune was given to charities and other businesses. Luke had already raged and grieved over the money. “I’m glad that he and I made up before he died, but it still doesn’t change the fact that he was a bastard for most of my life,” he had told me. “This is the final insult.”
He may not have believed in the message his father wrote, but I did. My eyes teared under the blazing sun as I recalled the words on his father’s last farewell.
I hastily wiped the wetness from my eyes as Luke emerged from the water, his board trailing behind him. Dripping, he sat down next to me and immediately leaned over. Water from his hair dripped over my face, but I didn’t mind because it was so hot. He blocked out the sun and smiled as his dripping head hovered over mine.
Break (Billionaire New Adult Romance) Page 16
