Bryce: Ex-Business: An Ex-Club Romance

by Camilla Stevens

  Eventually, we end at a door. One quick knock from our guide and we’re inside. The room looks like a small library, with bookshelves lining the walls. They are tastefully decorated in a manner befitting the National Geographic Society, with books and globes and expensive statuettes. The round table in the middle seats six, but only one man is currently seated.

  Pierce Wilmington III.

  I’ve seen his picture before so the resemblance to Bryce is no surprise, but in person, the differences are far more stark. His blue eyes are cold and stealthy. His hard jaw seems to be permanently set to taut. His suit is perfectly tailored to show off an upper body that is definitely well-maintained despite being over sixty.

  “Have a seat,” he says as the person who led us in quietly closes the door behind us.

  It’s obvious where he wants us to sit, so Bryce and I take the two seats most opposite him.

  “If you’d like a drink, feel free,” he says, waving to the small bar I just noticed. “I myself don’t partake.” I note a brief but deliberate glance Bryce’s way that is filled with judgment. It almost makes me want to get up and pour both of us a glass.

  “I’m fine,” I say, noting how hesitant my words sound. I need to work on that tonight. No need to make the man think I’m scared of him.

  “I, on the other hand, think I will,” Bryce says with a boisterous smile as he pops up to pour himself something.

  His father’s tells are well disguised, but I note the tic of irritation in his jaw at Bryce’s attitude. I bite back a smile as Bryce pours and returns to his seat.

  Pierce’s eyes fall on me, stony yet unreadable. “So you are the daughter of the infamous Cassandra LeFleur.”

  “I am,” unsure of how else to respond to that statement.

  “Which is the reason for this dinner,” he says, turning to give Bryce a hard look. “Seeing as how I had a phone call from your mother today. Point one in your favor for making the most likely play, Bryce.”

  Bryce just stares at him, taking a sip of his drink.

  I watch Pierce’s eyes narrow as he continues to stare at his son. It’s the tiny gleam in them that has me suddenly on edge.

  “I realize I never taught you how to play chess as a boy. If you had learned from me, then you would know that rule number one is to have the game already mapped out in your head before making the first move. Know what plays you’re going to make, more importantly, how and when.”

  Bryce sets his glass down, realizing that this is going somewhere. And that somewhere is most definitely not good.

  “But of course that doesn’t take into account any surprise moves your opponent might make, which gets me to rule number two. Plan for every eventuality, any likely play that your opponent is going to make. And be damn prepared to counteract it.”

  The gleam is gone now, replaced by nothing more than steely resolve.

  “Most important of all, know what kind of opponent you are up against. Are they the kind to cower and roll over when faced with a check? Or do they go full kamikaze, risking it all to achieve checkmate?”

  I feel Bryce stiffen next to me, his drink all but forgotten. I’m almost as paralyzed with anticipation of what’s to come from this little spiel.

  “What kind of opponent do you think I am Bryce? Even if I didn’t teach you the game of chess, surely you know this much.”

  “Why don’t you just spell it out for me…Dad,” Bryce grits out, meeting his father’s hard gaze with one of his own.

  A thin smile spreads Pierce’s lips. “If you’re looking for information about what happened at that party, I’ll have to disappoint you. That remains in the vault. However, I am more than happy to clue you in as to the status of your magazine.” His eyes slide to me. “Both your magazines.”

  My hand reflexively reaches out to grab Bryce’s arm.

  “When I told Bryce that the name Cheval Blanc wasn’t meant for him, I meant it. It was meant for your mother, Miss Hartman. A firm reminder of what happened that night. The French was a subtle jab at that ridiculously manufactured last name of hers, Cassandra LeFleur. I knew eventually the name of the company would trickle down to her and she’d know exactly what it was referring to. I wanted her to know that it was me who destroyed her beloved legacy.” He turns back to Bryce, “ Which is why I used your name and your magazine to get the ball rolling. You were the obvious connection to me. I have both of you to thank for the news getting to the woman as intended.”

  His eyes settle firmly back on me. “As for Contempo Woman, you can kiss it goodbye. The ink has dried on the contracts and consider tonight me giving you your notice as editor-in-chief. The first thing that will change is that idiotic name, something I planned on changing anyway. In fact, any hint of Cassandra LeFluer that still stinks up the place will be eliminated.”

  I gasp out loud, unable to breathe air back into my lungs from that sucker punch.

  “Dad!” Bryce roars, shooting out of his seat. My hand is still glued to his arm and I tug, forcing him back down.

  His father continues on as though neither of his has had any reaction. “Don’t take it personally. By all accounts, you were fantastic at what you did. This obviously isn’t a reflection of your capabilities. It has to do with your mother,” he seethes. “If you want to blame someone for this, blame her.”

  “So all this bullshit about me coming to work for you was just that. Bullshit.”

  “I never said I would keep your little girlfriend on. I said I wouldn’t dissolve the magazine if you joined the firm. I was always going to replace her even before you went running to your mother.”

  Something about that clicks for me and I sit up straighter. “How did you even know about Bryce and me in the first place?”

  A slightly bemused smile touches Pierce’s lips. “At least someone is smart enough to start asking the right questions. One thing they don’t teach you in business school is how to ensure loyalty. More importantly, how to spot a rat. For example, a woman who has been employed at your magazine since before you were even born. One who fully expected to become editor-in-chief one day but instead found herself sidelined by the former owner’s daughter.”

  He quickly glances Bryce’s way. “This is why I don’t play favorites with Pierce at Wilmington Financial. He had to earn his way up to where he is just like anyone else. That breeds loyalty.”

  His father turns back to me, but I’m already seething from what is now perfectly clear.

  Veronica is the rat.

  “I see you know exactly who I’m talking about. She’s a smart one, that woman. She figured out early on who this mysterious partner in crime of yours was and did her own investigating before you even revealed your relationship. Not long after Conniver made the announcement she came to me with the information.”

  “And you bit as easily as a trout on a worm,” I retort. The scowl that comes to his face is a bittersweet reward for the rage boiling inside of me.

  “She’s a woman who knows what cards to play and the perfect moment to play them. For that, she was rewarded. It’s a lesson you should take to heart, young lady.”

  He turns back to Bryce. “Which gets us to the topic of your magazine.”

  “Fuck you,” Bryce says in a dark voice.

  “Please, I’m sure you can do better than that,” Pierce says with a dry smile. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part. The part that shows you what happens when you try to force my hand by involving your mother.”

  Bryce wisely stays silent in response to that.

  “This…whatever it is between you and her,” Pierce glances at me, “It ends now. Otherwise, I absolutely will dissolve that ridiculous magazine of yours. Every employee? Fired. Every page to be published? Burned, as far as I’m concerned. I’ll have all evidence of it scraped from existence.”

  Underneath my hand, I feel Bryce relax. I turn to look at him and his face is unreadable as he stares back at his father. Even the trace of venom in his eyes earlier is gone. Still, there
is something about him that absolutely radiates a force so strong it fills the air in the small room. There is definitely something powerful brewing beneath the surface, but hell if he is going to let his father see it.

  “I realize the two of you live in the same building, right across from each other, interestingly enough. That ends ASAP. I’ll even offer to pay the moving expenses of whichever of you decides to leave. I don’t care about broken leases or the hassles of finding a new place. If I have to buy the whole damn building just to separate the two of you, I will. I suggest one of you starts packing tonight. Once again, you have a week from tonight.”

  Pierce exhales a satisfied breath. “With that said, I think I’ll pass on dinner. I’m suddenly no longer hungry. But the room is reserved and my membership here includes anything on the menu. Feel free to indulge yourselves. Consider it your last meal together—a final supper, if you will. I recommend the beef Wellington.”

  “Whatever it is must be pretty damning,” Bryce says, a taunting smile touching his lips.

  I’m happy, yet terrified, to see his father blink in surprise. I’m sure that isn’t the final word he expected from Bryce.

  “I suggest you let it go, young man. You’ve seen what I’m capable of just from your snooping. Imagine what I can do if you continue to poke the hornets’ nest.”

  The smile remains on Bryce’s face, much to my dismay. My fate is sealed, but he still has some options.

  His father stares at him long enough to realize that smile isn’t disappearing. He tenses then forces his attention on me. “Your access to Contempo Woman is officially denied. Your things from the office will be shipped to you. Good luck.”

  It’s as if he knows exactly what button to push with Bryce in order to get a reaction. Me.

  “She won’t need it. She still has me.”

  His dad narrows his eyes with frustration. “I’m going to attribute that to momentary petulance at the bomb I’ve just dropped. I suggest you take tonight to think about that.” He leans over the table. “Or at least to think about your employees who may be out of a job if you persist with this.”

  Knowing he’s cornered Bryce, he rises up triumphant, a sinister smile on his face. His eyes settle on me.

  “Give Cassandra LeFluer my regards.”

  With that, he walks out without a backward glance at us.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Bryce

  “Let’s get out of here,” I say.

  Edie still looks like she’s in shock. She stares at the chair my father just vacated as though the ghost of him still remains.

  Me? I’m raging. It took all I could muster to keep from getting physical with the man, which I’m sure he would have loved. Dad would be the type to actually press charges.

  No, there’s a much more effective and satisfying way of getting back at him.

  But first, I need to get out of this place, which reeks of the sort of pretension that is all Dad.

  “Edie,” I say in a gentler tone, trying to snap her out of it.

  “He was serious, wasn’t he?” she mutters. “I really am fired.”

  I just stare at her, waiting for her to turn to me and see the truth of it on my face. When she finally does, I watch her sag in her seat.

  “That…asshole,” she utters.

  I agree, but this is better left for the privacy of our apartment. I wouldn’t put it past Dad to have the room bugged just to dig up more leverage to use against us.

  “We should get out of here. Head back to my place and talk this over.”

  Edie sits up straighter, full of vim and vigor all of a sudden. “No, I need to have a nice long chat with my articles editor.”

  “No, you need to come back to my place so we can talk this out before either of us makes any rash moves,” I say, taking her by the shoulders.

  I see that stubborn Edie raging to the surface before she relaxes in my grip. She exhales and nods.

  “Good, now let’s go before the stink of this place turns my blood bluer than it already is.”

  She reluctantly rises and I curl one arm around her to guide her out. When I open the door, there’s an officious looking man in a perfectly crisp tuxedo waiting. His eyes fall on me leading Edie out and he gives a subtle nod.

  “I take it you won’t be dining with us tonight?”

  “Take it how you want to. We’re out of here.” I pass him to lead Edie out the way we came, but I feel his presence following us. Can’t have non-members dillydallying in the members-only areas of the club. I’m almost tempted to take my anger out on him, but manage to make it to the front door without succumbing.

  “This is my fault,” I say as we walk, my eyes scanning the street for a taxi. “I pushed him and he pushed back. So, I’ll be the one to fix it.”

  “You were just trying to get answers—for both of us, Bryce. It just backfired.”

  At least she seems rational. I watch her stare at the sidewalk ahead, her face concentrated in thought.

  “I could have another go at Mom. There isn’t much left to lose at this point.”

  “No,” Edie says, shaking her head. “You were right, let’s talk this over tonight and come up with a plan. No more bringing other people into this.”

  I nod just as my eyes land on a taxi that’s lit up. I reach a hand out to hail it and when it slides over to the curb near us, I open the door for Edie to enter first.

  Inside, she leans into me and we sit in silence, both of us replaying everything that just happened.

  Contempo Woman is gone. New ownership. New editor-in-chief. New name, whatever that may be.

  Talk about salting the earth.

  Now, I just want to find out what happened at that damn party if only to see what all the fuss is about. There are very few things that could make my father become so damn emotional, which means it must be good.

  As for Ideal Gentlemen, that now hangs by a thread. Oddly enough, it seems irrelevant compared to Edie, who is my main priority tonight. She’s certainly received the bigger shot to the gut.

  When we arrive back at our apartment building and head up to our floor, I lead her right to my place. I’m the one with the more fully stocked bar.

  I set her down on the couch, then pour our preferred drinks and take them back to join her.

  “Would he react this way over a simple one-time fling he had with someone, even someone he now despises?”

  “He would react this way if his ego was even remotely bruised. Like he said, my going to my mother is what sent him over the edge.”

  “Is he really that…” she stops, unable to come up with the right term.

  I, however, have spent a lifetime mentally attributing labels to my old man.

  “Conniving? Despicable? Ruthless? Vengeful? Much of an asshole? Yes, Edie, he is. But enough about him. We need to figure out what to do about you.”

  She sips her cognac and shakes her head. “He owns the magazine, Bryce. Even if he did change his mind, I don’t want to work under a man like that. It was bad enough under Conniver. So, unless we can find a way to get him to sell, it’s done.”

  “You seem awfully calm about the whole thing.”

  A mild smile touches her lips. “The ride back gave me a chance to think. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I loved working for Contempo Woman, and I’m pretty devastated that I officially no longer do. But…” she twists her lips in thought and looks off to the side. “Have you ever had something that you thought you wanted suddenly taken away, only to realize that it was a blessing in disguise?”

  I tilt my head in acknowledgment.

  “That’s how I feel. Surprisingly. I’m still pissed the hell off and I definitely plan on having a good talk with Veronica, but…” A soft smile cracks on her face. “I feel kind of liberated.”

  “A chance to start something new like you wanted.”

  Her eyes crinkle as her smile broadens toward me. “You get it.”

  “I do. It’s one thing to work for something your p
redecessors created. It’s another thing to start something of your own.”

  “Exactly,” she says, taking another sip. She swallows and then frowns, resting her chin on her arm crooked along the back of the couch. “I’m more concerned about Mom. That was her baby.”

  “How do you think she’ll take it?”

  Edie shrugs and takes a sip to ponder it. “With her, who knows?”

  She takes another sip and studies me. “But we have to address this issue with your magazine. If one of us doesn’t move—”

  “Neither of us is moving,” I insist, feeling my jaw go hard. That was one step too far for Dad. It softens into a smile as a thought occurs to me. “Unless of course, it’s you moving into my place.”

  “Or you could move into mine?” she volleys right back to me.

  “I don’t care, so long as I get to wake up next to you each day.”

  “And your Dad?”

  “He said one of us had to move. He didn’t say where.”

  “I’m pretty sure he didn’t have this in mind.”

  “Then he should learn how to use his words.”

  Edie exhales a soft laugh. “You really like poking the beast, don’t you?”

  “I like having you here with me. After seven years, there’s no way I’m giving this up that easily. I’ll find another way.”

  “Correction,” Edie says, sliding in closer. “We’ll find another way.”

  My grin softens, warming up to the fact that Edie is most definitely in this with me.

  “What? You didn’t honestly think I’d let you handle this alone,” she says, smiling and sliding in even closer. “After all, I was top of the class at Columbia. It would be a shame to put all that education to waste.”

  “Oh, Edie, it’s official. I’m in love.”

  She blinks and snaps her head back in surprise.”What?”

  “I love you,” I say, not bothering to water it down or backtrack or play it off. Because it’s true.

  “Bryce,” she says, sitting up straighter, a small, crooked smile on her lips.