Dirty Rich Cinderella Story

by Lisa Renee Jones

“What time?” I ask.

  “Three o’ clock.”

  “Well see you then.” We disconnect, and I set my phone down. “I know the party is tonight, but he said he’d see us today, and I didn’t want to talk myself out of it. Three o’clock.”

  “You’re brilliant,” Cat declares.

  “Which is why we hired her,” Reese says, joining us and quickly stepping to Cat’s side.

  A tingle along my skin tells me Cole is behind me, and I twist around in my seat to find Reese headed toward Cat, and Cole leaning one shoulder on the archway, and Lord help me, my adrenaline spikes and my heart starts racing. He’s gorgeous. He’s here. He’s intensely focused on me, his expression unreadable, but there is an edge to him, a cutting undercurrent I’ve seen in him before now, just not directed at me. It’s definitely directed at me now. “Walk me to the elevator, Lori?”

  Our phone call is here and now, in person. Somehow, that’s so much more intense. “Yes. Of course.”

  Cat gives me a knowing look before I turn away and slip off the barstool. Cole straightens and steps out of the archway to allow me to pass. He joins me immediately and once again we walk down the hallway, but this time we don’t stop in the foyer. He motions me to the door, and I walk that direction. He’s there by the time I’m there, opening it for me to pass through.

  I don’t hesitate to follow his direction and we don’t speak but I have never been so aware of any other human being in my life. I step into the hallway and Cole joins me. For a moment, he’s towering over me, and we’re facing each other, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to melt from the heat we’re radiating. Cat’s right. How does anyone fight something like this? Everyone wants to feel this, they wish for something this intense, and maybe it’s just physical, but it’s no less fierce.

  “Come on,” he says, taking my hand, and I let him. I can’t stop him. I don’t want to stop him. I want to go where he’s leading me.

  We round the corner to the elevator banks and instead of punching the elevator button, he heads for the stairwell. He opens the door and in a blink, we’re inside the corridor, and his fingers are slicing into my hair and his mouth is closing down on mine. I don’t even consider resisting. I need this. I need him, and when his tongue touches mine, I feel it everywhere. My sex. My nipples. My entire body. I moan into his mouth and grip his shirt, while his hand molds me close. I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to have to think or be logical or cautious.

  His hand slips under my shirt and mine under his, that spicy familiar scent of him a drug seducing my senses. I need more. I want more, and I don’t realize how much that is true until right here and now. His hand slips under my sweats, and he cups my backside. The same hand that spanked me. Because he makes the forbidden sultry and sexy and necessary.

  ***

  Cole

  The only sound in the stairwell is the moan that escapes Lori’s lips when I mold her hips to my hips, my erection pressing against her belly. It echoes inside the concrete walls, a sound meant for my ears and only my ears, like I believe she’s meant for me and no one else. It’s the jolting moment that pulls me back to the present. I press Lori against the wall and tear my mouth from hers. “We have to stop before I forget we’re in a stairwell, and finally find my way back inside you again.” And now it’s a mix of her breathing and my breathing that fills the small space, both of us on edge, both of us needing what we’ve been denied for months. What should have been. What I won’t let her run from again.

  Her chin lifts and she grabs fistfuls of my shirt. “You make me crazy, Cole Brooks,” she hisses. “You make me do things I wouldn’t do with anyone else.”

  I lean in and press my cheek to hers, my lips by her ear. “The feeling is mutual, sweetheart,” I whisper.

  “You’re still doing it,” she bites out.

  “So are you,” I assure her.

  She presses her hands to my chest. “Stop.”

  I lean back to look at her. “I can’t stop. You can’t stop, and what’s crazy about that is that I don’t lose control. I don’t think about a woman when I should be thinking about other things. I don’t fuck people I work with. And yet here I am and here we are.”

  “Exactly,” she says. “I don’t risk my future over a man.”

  “You think I’d let you get hurt?”

  “Not intentionally, but we’re in a stairwell, all over each other, Cole. Cat said we’re glaringly obvious and she’s clearly correct. Which, by the way is why I asked to talk to you, but I couldn’t remember that fact until this moment. And why is that? Because we were too busy doing everything but talking. I had to tell her that we met on the street that day and that you asked me to coffee.”

  “And she said what?” I ask.

  “If we’re obvious to her, we can be obvious to others.”

  I narrow my eyes on her. “Did she say that, or did you say that?”

  “I’m saying that.”

  “Cat and Reese are friends. They’ll see what others do not.”

  “We’re out of control.”

  My hands settle at her waist and I pull her to me. “Let’s try a repeat of my prior question. Did Cat say that, or did you?”

  “Me. I said it.”

  “What else did Cat say to you?”

  “Nothing that I want to repeat,” she says.

  “Tell me anyway,” I order softly.

  Her hands grip my wrists as if she wants to control me, or maybe herself, and holy hell, her hands on my any part of my body just make me want her hands on every part of my body. “Summarizing. The writing is on the wall. We’re going to end up naked, and I need to accept that, and plan accordingly.”

  “What else?”

  “She left the what else to us, but she told me that if it made me more comfortable, I could move to Reese’s team.”

  “And you said what, Lori?”

  A door above us opens and crashes shut. Lori shoves out of my arms as footsteps trample downward toward us. Lori heads for the door, and I quickly follow on her heels a moment after she exits to the elevator bank, and if I think she will run, I’m wrong. She whirls on me and pokes my chest.

  “I told her that I’m staying with you. You need me, Cole. You have no staff and I won’t let you down or betray you. But Cat was right. This isn’t going away and I need to deal with that and you.”

  “And how exactly do you plan on dealing with me, Lori?”

  “I’m going to go home with you, fuck you, not you me, and get this out of my system and yours. Then Monday morning, I’m going to do my job, get my degree, and start my career.” She turns and starts to walk away.

  I let her, because a) her ass is about as perfect a view in those sweatpants as any man could hope for, and b) I know what she knows but won’t admit yet. I do need her and not just professionally. Outside of my new role as her boss, I have wanted her so damn long at this point that I have a deep need for her I cannot escape, and I’m not alone. She needs me, too, and tonight, in between orgasms, I’m going to make her say it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Lori

  Tonight has to happen.

  With those words playing in my mind, and the taste of Cole on my lips, I pause outside Cat and Reese’s apartment to validate the decision I just made to give us one more night. We need this. Cole and I both need closure, and I don’t believe that can happen in an office or a stairwell. We need to be alone. We need to fuck each other senseless and then talk, in that order, because words are not going to mean anything until we get the edge off. And I’m not going to mean anything I say to him, not until I stop melting every time he touches me. Lust is distracting us both and the truth is: Cole was right when he said we needed closure. I left him in that hotel room. We came face to face again as boss and employee and we’re reacting to those facts, not dealing with them. And dealing with them is control.

  Feeling good about my decision, I take it upon myself to open the door to C
at and Reese’s apartment, and it’s as if Cat is waiting to pounce on me. The minute I enter the foyer, she is there, and she’s changed into dark blue jeans and a dark blue silk blouse. “We need to go if we’re going to make that interview,” she says as I’m shutting the door. “As it is,” she continues, “we have to take the subway to have any chance of being on time.” She motions me forward. “Go change into something in my closet. I don’t care what. You know your way.”

  I don’t argue. This interview is a big deal for her and I can’t accompany her in sweats. I hurry around the corner and up the stairs toward the master bedroom where Cat and I have had more than a few work sessions in cozy chairs. Ten minutes later, I’m in black jeans, a black lace blouse, and Cat’s ankle boots. Another fifteen minutes later, and we step onto an empty subway car.

  With plenty of seating options, I point to the end where I can see what is coming at us. The car starts to move. “I was thinking about you and Cole,” Cat announces.

  I twist around to face her. “Why are you thinking about me and Cole?”

  “Oh I don’t know. You went to talk and you two didn’t choose the living room, den, office or anywhere in the apartment. You went outside, and you came back red-faced with swollen lips.”

  I inhale and face forward. “We had a heated debate.”

  She laughs. “I could tell.”

  I smirk in her direction. “Don’t be funny.”

  “I can’t help myself,” she says, “but jokes aside, I wanted to say something to you when you were captive and had to listen.”

  I laugh. “That is so you.”

  She grins. “It is, isn’t it?” She rotates to face me. “First, just as a side note that I didn’t mention this morning. Because I consult at the firm I know that the company policy allows for inter-office dating. Read your handbook, the procedures are inside.”

  “Cole and I are not dating.”

  “Back to what I was thinking about you and Cole. You met and you walked away from him, but he came back to you.”

  “As my boss.”

  “That’s not the point. You found each other again. I think that’s pretty incredible.”

  Twice, I think. He came back to me twice, but I don’t say that to her. “It’s just so complicated and confusing, Cat.”

  “I know,” she says, taking my hand. “I get that a lot has happened that you couldn’t see coming. I know what it’s like to finally have good happening in your life, but also fear that more bad will follow. But sometimes just like the bad, we don’t see the good things coming until they’re here. Like us meeting in the coffee shop, and the scholarship, and maybe, just maybe, Cole. Things happen for a reason. You say Cole needs you, but the way I see it, you need each other.”

  The loud speaker sounds, and the car halts, saving me from a reply on a topic where we are divided. She thinks need is good and I do not. But then, she needs Reese and he makes her feel safe in that need, but they’re equals. Both just as successful and powerful. Cole and I are not. My mother and my father were not. To me, need is a bad word. It’s dirty, messy, and emotional. With Cole, there was never supposed to be anything but the dirty. There was never supposed to be need or emotion. I can’t change the fact that I need him professionally. I just can’t get emotional. I can’t fall for Cole Brooks. I won’t fall for him.

  ***

  The interview for Cat’s book goes well and when it’s done, Cat and I split up in the subway with just enough time for me to head home, gather what I need to get ready at her place, and return. I even have time to grab Starbucks for my mother who is in her pink pajamas with little angels on them, making coffee when I walk in. “Look what I have,” I say, delivering her the cup.

  “You are my angel,” she says, lighting up.

  We chat for a few minutes, and I tell her all about the party before I pack a small overnight bag that I’ll need because I am staying with Cole. My mother is back in the kitchen making her morning oatmeal when I exit the bedroom, and I’m just about to leave when I pause at the door with a question.

  “Did you talk to your architect?” I ask, turning to eye her reaction.

  She purses her lips. “He came by to see me and ask me out again, but I avoided him.”

  I think of my attempts to avoid Cole. Okay, I don’t think I actually have any attempts to avoid Cole, aside from the morning after I slept with him. Bad example. I set my bag on the floor and cross to stand on the opposite side of the counter from her. “I thought you were going to talk to him?”

  “We’ll see,” she says, cutting her stare to stir her oatmeal. “I just need to go with what feels right.”

  I’m torn here. I don’t want her to end up dependent on another man, but I don’t want her bitter and alone either. I press my hands to the counter. “Don’t judge him based on what dad did to you.”

  Her gaze jerks to mine. “Your father made mistakes,” she says. “But those mistakes tore him up. He died before he could fix them, but he would have fixed them.”

  “You’re still blind where he’s concerned.”

  “I’m not blind at all, but I think this past year has clouded your vision. He was good to us and there was not a day of my life with him that I felt alone or unloved. If you’re objective, there was not a day in your life you felt unloved either.”

  “Love doesn’t look like what he did to us.”

  “Love is flawed and fragile and beautiful and untouchable. Love looked just like your father. So yes. I will judge Joe, and every other man, by your father. And unless I need someone like I did your father, I will not be with that person.”

  “Need is the issue,” I argue, frustrated at her use of that word. “If you need someone, then they control you. They can hurt you.”

  “You can’t love someone and not need them, honey, and I hope this hell we have lived hasn’t ruined you for love. I hope one day you understand what I’m telling you. I hate how this has affected you.”

  “This isn’t about me.”

  “Isn’t it?” she challenges. “You need to start living again. I’m fine now. I even thought about moving next door with Marie Anne just to let you have some freedom.”

  I blanch. “You aren’t moving out,” I say. “No. That is not going to happen. We can’t even afford two rents.”

  “She has blood sugar issues,” my mother says. “My rent is my ability to help her figure out why she can’t get that problem under control. And she has to, or it will kill her.”

  “No,” I say.

  “This lets you know I’m near, but you can start living again.”

  I glance at the clock on the stove. “I need to go and I hate it, but we’re talking about this, this weekend. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, but I’m back. I’m me again. I’ll be okay if you live your life. Go kick butt at that party and let them know Lori Havens is there to make a statement that lasts.”

  “I will,” I say. “And you eat your oatmeal and don’t even think about packing.”

  I kiss my fingers and hold them out to her and then cross the room. I’ve just grabbed my bag and opened the door when she calls out. “Honey.”

  I rotate and look at her. “Yes?”

  “I’m glad you are living your dreams. No more regrets, okay?”

  The statement punches me in the gut and Cole is immediately in my mind. “No more regrets,” I say, and I exit to the hallway, shut the door, and lean against it. Once again, I think of the moment on the street when I left Cole behind. I think of the moment I’d stepped on the elevator after our night together, when I was sure I would never see him again. And then here is tonight with Cole, and I no longer know what I want to happen. I’m confused and I feel oddly alone. My mother has depended on me for so long that I don’t know how to digest another reality. Lord help me, but I feel like I really need tonight with Cole.

  ***

  I arrive at Reese and Cat’s apartment where I’m greeted by Cat we
aring a robe and a towel on her head. “We have one hour to get ready,” she says. “I left you a selection of dresses on the spare bed and I’ll come check on you soon.” She dashes away, and I follow, both of us darting up the stairs. At the top, Cat darts into the bedroom, while Reese appears in the doorway, still dressed in his sweats.

  “Hello, Lori,” he says.

  “Hi, Reese,” I say without stopping, darting left toward the spare bedroom I’ve used for a few naps between jobs.

  Reese’s low chuckle, a warm and friendly acceptance of how I’ve become a part of their lives, follows me to the spare bedroom I dash inside of, shutting the door with a smile. I love these two. They really have become friends and that feeling of being alone has, for now at least, faded. Of course, they’re also Cole’s friends and I can’t think about where that leads us or how awkward that could get. Not now. Not this night. I eye the dresses on the bed, drawn to the burgundy shade of one of them, but I don’t have time to look now. I dart toward the bathroom.

  Once I’ve showered, finished my makeup and flat ironed my hair to a long, silky shine, I pull on black lace-top thigh highs, and a lacy black panty and bra set. Knocking sounds on the door and I pull on a robe. Hurrying forward, I open to door to find Cat, still in a robe, but like me, her hair and makeup are done. “I want you to model the dresses. I’m dying to see how they look.”

  This is Cat. She’s excited for me to wear one of her dresses. There is no favor I owe her. There is just generosity and friendship. She is just one of the reasons I have to get control of me and Cole. I won’t cause a disruption in the workplace for the people who have helped me. That includes Cole.

  ***

  An hour later, we arrive at the building where Summer & Brooks practice law, with Cat and Reese proving a breathtaking duet as we do; her in a gorgeous knee-length black dress that flares just below the knee. Him in a fitted black suit with a pinstripe. They look like a king and queen, while I at least look like a loyal subject worthy of their time, and how can I not? I’m wearing a stunning knee-length burgundy pencil dress, with a V-neck and two straps on both sides. It hadn’t been my first choice though, despite my love for the color and style. I’d wanted to wear a simple black dress, a conservative dress that felt intern appropriate, but that didn’t happen. Not with Cat sitting on the bed eager to see me try on all the choices.