Forced to Forget_Blackmailing the Billionaire Series

by Tasha Fawkes

  “How about I drive you home?” I say. I hand her my suit jacket, which she gratefully puts on over her shirt.

  “I guess it is the least you can do,” she says, accepting my offer.

  I lead her down to my car, then get in, clicking it into drive. I smile at her when I pull up out the front of her apartment.

  “Do you want to come in?” she asks.

  I hesitate, because I do, but if I go in, I’ll never leave.

  “I better not. I should get home and get some work done, because for some reason, I’m behind in everything.” I murmur.

  She leans over and kisses me tenderly on the lips.

  “Welcome to my world,” she laughs. “Call me tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” I say.

  Chapter 14

  Angela

  I'm treading on dangerous ground and the worst thing is, I know it. There is no excuse when this all goes wrong and I end up hurt, because I’ve seen the warning signs all along.

  The problem is, I can't help myself. I like him a lot and it’s clouding my judgement when it comes to deciding what’s best for me. It’s only a matter of time until it starts effecting my work too.

  I walk inside and shut the door, tossing my bag down on the kitchen counter. No sooner than it hits the surface, my phone rings. Annoyed, I rummage through my bag, until I grasp hold of it. Of course it stops ringing.

  Typical.

  I frown when I see my father's name. I sigh, because either something is wrong, or he wants to be nosy. Either way, I don’t want to call him back, but I do. I quickly call him back because I just want it over with.

  “Angela?”

  “Dad. Hi,” I say. I force a smile, hoping it resonates in my voice. The last thing I need is him picking up that something is wrong. “Is everything okay?”

  “Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?” he asks.

  “Because I…well, you called me,” I mutter nervously. “And you only call me when you have news.”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” he mutters. “But, I just thought I'd call and see how you are doing.”

  “Really,” I say. It didn’t make sense. Why now, all of a sudden. I wish he’d just get to the point.

  “Yes. I’m allowed to see how my girl is doing, aren’t I?” he replies. So, have you spoken to Nate?” he asks.

  And there it is.

  I smile to myself, because this is so typical of him.

  “No, I haven't spoken to Nate yet,” I say, not bothering to keep the edge out of my voice.

  “Why not? What is there to still think about?” he asks, sounding frustrated. “I don't understand how you haven’t just told him what he needs to do to meet the conditions of the Will yet. Should I be concerned? Maybe I should be flying out there—”

  “To do what?” I say, laughing. “I'm sorry, Dad. Don’t take this the wrong way, but this is none of your business. I'm sorry I have to go. I’ll call you back later, okay?”

  I hang up before he has a chance to respond and then I turn my phone off, because I can’t deal with him right now. I let out a yell, annoyed that he’s sticking his nose into my business again. Just like that, my mood has gone from happy, to average, right down to feeling like shit.

  I get changed into something warmer and then head outside for a walk. I feel like I need some fresh air to try and clear my head. I hate to admit it, but my father is right. I do need to tell Nate. All I was doing was delaying the inevitable, and what was the point of that? The outcome is going to be the same. If anything, the longer I wait, the harder it’s going to be for me to talk to him. If I had any sense at all, I’d do it now.

  No, if I had any sense, I’d have done it weeks ago.

  I shake my head. I'm so confused. I don't know what to do, because I don’t know what I’m feeling, or what I want more out of life. Nate or my career? Because I can’t have both.

  Is Nate worth risking everything for?

  Two weeks ago, it would’ve been an easy decision to make, but now? We have a connection and it’s much more powerful than I ever dreamed I could have with anyone. In the beginning, I wondered what the harm was in exploring what I was feeling.

  It turns out, the harm was I that I’d fall in love with him.

  I take a deep breath and force the fresh air into my lungs as I walk along the street. It's fairly quiet out, which, considering how late it is, isn’t that surprising. I smile as I pass an older couple, out walking their dog. I chuckle when they smile back and say hello. If I were back home, they’d have thrown me on the ground and made a citizen’s arrest. I like her a lot. Everyone is so friendly. It’s a completely different lifestyle.

  I like it to the point where I'm not looking forward to going home at all. I frown, not sure how much of that has to do with Nate and how much of it is everything else. I have real friends here. I’m closer to Shana and Charlene than I am with girls I went to elementary school with. I feel like I’ve developed the life I’d always wanted. The problem is, I’m not sure how much of it is real.

  At least I know that what I have back home is real.

  But what if I don't want that anymore?

  I shake my head and laugh at my ignorance. I make it sound so easy, like I can just not go back. But it doesn't work that way. It's never that easy, especially when it comes to me. This is what I do; I run away when things get hard. I get to a point in a relationship where I sabotage everything and push people away. My fear of rejection takes over and I convince myself I need to get out before I get hurt. Even if it’s just in my head, it doesn’t matter. By the time I realize it, the damage has been done. All my past relationships ended the same way, with me running away. And now I want to run from New York? And what happens when things get too hard here? Will I run then too?

  But this is different. The last thing I want to do is push Nate away, whereas every other relationship I just felt smothered. I needed space, time to myself. With Nate, space makes me feel sick. I want to be with him all the time.

  What does that even mean? That this is different? What if it’s not?

  I shake my head and wrap my arms around my waist. I don't know how else to deal with this. I can't get enough of him, but I know we can’t last. And then there’s the way I reacted to visiting the center. I still have no idea what happened. It triggered something, but that wasn't the first time I'd been forced to face my childhood, so why did it affect me so much?

  I can only imagine what Nate thought.

  I swat away the tears that are rolling down my cheeks. I turn around and head back home, taking my time. As I reach my apartment, something inside me clicks. It happens so suddenly that a bunch of emotions hit me all at once and I don’t know whether to cry, scream or laugh.

  I fish my phone out of my pocket and call Nate.

  “Hey,” he says. He sounds both happy and surprised to hear from me.

  “Can you do something for me?” I ask.

  “Sure.”

  “I want to see the center again,” I say.

  “Okay. Yes, sure. Meet me there at ten in the morning. Are you okay?” he asks.

  “I'm fine,” I say. “I've got to go.”

  I hang up, then I stare up at the sky, my heart pounding. I’m terrified, because I think I'm beginning to change my mind. About everything.

  I lay awake most of the night tossing and turning, trying to figure out what I’m doing. One minute, I’ve decided that I'm doing what I came here to do, but the next, I think maybe I need to give this thing with Nate a chance. I know the only way I can do that is to work with him and find a solution that he's happy with but doing that would pretty much be career suicide for me.

  There is no way anyone would take me seriously if I keep Nate happy, because it's so blatantly obvious what needs to be done to the foundation to meet the requirements of the Will. I sigh and roll over, burying my head in the pillows.

  All I want to do is sleep, but this is driving me so crazy that I can’t turn my mind off. In the end, I
give up. I climb out of bed, grabbing the blanket and pillow and I curl up on the couch. For the next few hours, I aimlessly watch TV and try to empty my mind. It helps a little, but not enough for me to actually sleep.

  Before I know it, it’s six in the morning and I haven't slept even at all. I’m on the verge of tears, because I’m so frustrated over everything. I have to go into the center where, I'm going to be emotional anyway, on no sleep. I’m asking for trouble. I can cancel. I shake my head. No. I can’t do that. Not without looking like I’m falling apart. And I need this whole thing to be sorted out now.

  I roll over, and rub my head, groaning. I feel like shit. I glance at the clock and curse. It's nearly ten in the morning. I'm supposed to be at the center at in five minutes.

  “Shit,” I mutter.

  I jump out of bed and race into the bathroom to have the world's quickest shower, then I get dressed and head out the door without my usual coffee. I jump into the first cab that stops for me. So now not only am I late, I’m also tired, cranky and already having caffeine withdrawals and heading into a place that I know is going to open some old wounds.

  How could I possibly think this would be a good idea?

  Chapter 15

  Nate

  I glance at my watch and frown. She's never late. If anything, she always makes it a point to be ten or fifteen minutes early. I think that's to psych out whoever she’s meeting. In any case, it worked with me. Either way, it was completely out of character for her not to be here on time. Maybe she's changed her mind again. No. She would call me if that were the case. I glance at my phone again, hoping for a missed call or a message, but there’s nothing. I have to admit, I’m worried about her. As I’m about to call to see where she is, I see her barreling down the hallway toward me.

  She reaches me out of breath and holds up her hand.

  “I'm sorry,” she says. “I had trouble sleeping last night and then when I finally got to sleep, I hadn’t set an alarm.”

  I frown at her, because I've never seen her look this flustered. Two weeks ago, this would have amused me, but now, I’m only worried about her.

  “Hey, it's okay.” I assure her. “We don't have to do this now.” I add, wanting to give her a way out. Something kept her awake all night.

  “No, it's fine,” she says. “Really. I'm looking forward to it.” She even manages an almost convincing smile to go along with that lie.

  “Okay.” I shrug. “So, was there anything specifically that you wanted to see?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I just want you to convince me why this place should stay.” Glance at her and try to figure out what she’s thinking. “I really want to work with you, Nate. I want you to give me a reason to save this place.”

  I nod, forcing myself not to get my hopes up.

  “Okay.”

  I lead her down the back of the center, to a small room. She frowns as she looks around when I open the door.

  “What is this?” she asks.

  “Sit down,” I say to her. She does, then watches me as I open the filing cabinet next to the desk.

  “Five drawers,” I say to her.

  “Of what?” she asks. I hand her a stack of letters and watch as she opens the first one, before I begin to speak.

  “These are all the thank you letters, cards and photos that we receive from people that we’ve helped. People who are so grateful that we were there to offer them help, they took the time to write to us. We get hundreds of these a month.” She looks up at me, then back down. Her expression is overwhelmed.

  “I can show you all the programs in the world, but nothing is going to be more powerful than you sitting down and reading through these.” I step back and study her for a moment. “I will be down in my office when you need me.”

  I turn around and walk without saying another word to her, my hands shaking as I quietly shut the door. It’s a risk, leaving her in there alone, but this is probably my only chance to convince her to be on my side. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, but it's too late to second-guess it now. I just have to trust that those letters will be powerful enough to sway her decision.

  I walk into my office and sit down. Something is going on with her. I'm not sure what it is, but I hope she'll open up and talk to me when she's ready.

  I spend the next little while at my desk, pretending to get some work done. The likelihood of me being able to focus on anything is very slim though. Not while my mind keeps wandering back to her and wondering what she’s thinking.

  An hour passes and then another. I'm not sure if it's a good sign or not that she hasn't come to me yet. Maybe she's left. I swallow, feeling sick at the thought, but for all I know she could’ve stayed in there for five minutes and then left, annoyed that I had wasted her time.

  When three hours comes and goes, I’m not sure whether to hope or panic. I look up as someone knocks on my door. She stands there, staring at me.

  “You were in there that whole time?” I murmur.

  She nods. “There was a lot to go through,” she said with a slight smile on her face. “It didn’t feel right only reading half of it.” She hesitates, her gaze lifting to mine. “Can you do me a favor?” she asks.

  “Sure,” I say. I rise from my chair and walk over to her, anxious at what she’s going to ask me. “What is it?”

  “Can you take me home?”

  I nod. “Of course I can.”

  I pull up at the front of her building. She turns to me and smiles.

  “Would you mind staying with me for a while?” she says.

  “Of course,” I reply.

  I'm shocked, because I've never seen her this vulnerable. Even last time she was at the center, she wasn't vulnerable like this. Angry and defensive, yes, but not vulnerable and scared. Her reaction this time is a complete one-eighty.

  We walk inside, and I follow her to the elevator. She’s quiet all the way to her apartment. Only when we’re inside does she turn to me.

  “Would you like a drink?” she asks.

  “Sure,” I say.

  She disappears into the kitchen. I take the opportunity to look around. It’s a nice place, but she hasn't made herself at home at all. Then again, I suppose that's not surprising, considering she’ll soon be heading back to New York. I frown, a pit forming in my stomach at the thought of her leaving.

  Why do I hate the sound of her leaving so much?

  “Do you mind if I have a quick shower?”

  I turn around and shrug at her, the idea of her naked, with water running down her body making my body react in ways it shouldn’t.

  “Go for it,” I say. “You don’t need my permission. It's your apartment.” I tease her.

  She smiles and points to the TV remote.

  “Make yourself at home. I won’t be long, I'm just…”

  Her voice trails off. She shrugs off the sadness that was clouding her eyes, then she smiles at me, before disappearing down the hallway. I sit down and turn the TV on, but I don’t watch it. I'm too busy trying to work out what's going on in her head.

  She was right when she said she'd be quick, because five minutes later, she appears in the doorway. She’s draped in a towel and nothing else. I stare at her, my hands clenching into fists, because God, she looks incredible.

  “That’s better,” she says as she slowly walks toward me.

  “It’s much better.” I murmur, before I can stop myself.

  I laugh randomly, like I do when I'm nervous.

  “Did you enjoy your shower?” I ask. I cringe, because what a stupid thing to say. She smiles and nods.

  “I did,” she admits.

  She stands so close to me that I could touch…or even reach out and untuck that towel and let it fall to the floor. It's like she knows what I’m thinking, because that’s exactly what she does. I groan as the towel slips from her body and pools around her feet, then I step forward and wrap my arms around her shoulders, my mouth engulfing hers. I lift her into my arms. She wraps her
legs around my waist and kisses me, her hand raking through my hair.

  “Where is your room,” I mutter.

  “Down that hallway, at the end,” she says, gasping as my fingers stroke her back.

  I stalk down to her room, push my way through the door then I lay her down on the bed and climb on top of her. I caress her cheek, kissing her lips softly, enjoying every second of being this close to her. Then she rolls me over, so she’s on top, straddling me.

  She quickly works to undo the buckle on my pants. I grunt as she tugs them off, my cock springing out. I kick my shoes off then, I wriggle out of my pants and toss them on the floor. She grabs the back of my shirt and forces it over my head. Then she throws that on the floor, and leans forward, resting her arms against my shoulders.

  She laughs and presses her lips against mine.

  “Do you have a condom?” I ask her.

  She nods. “Yeah, in my top drawer.”

  I groan as she leans over me and reaches into the drawer. She pulls out a condom, ripping it open and rolling it on my shaft before I can say anything. I laugh, because she’s really taken charge. I have no idea what’s going on, but I like this assertive side to her.

  I shake my head, groaning as she shifts forward and lowers herself onto me. She brings herself down hard on my length, driving me into her. I gasp as she digs her fingernails deep into my stomach and rocks herself back and forth. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, grinding against me. I put my hands on her hips and bounce her on my length, moving my hips against her rhythm.

  “God yes.” She gasps.

  She bites down her lip in a way that drives me crazy. I pump myself into her, while running my fingers up over her stomach. My fingers find her breasts and circle her nipples. She gasps as I squeeze them between my thumb and my forefinger. She leans down, just as I reach up, so I take the opportunity to close my mouth around her hard nipple, sucking it until she jerks away from me.