Heartbreaker: A Workplace Friends-To-Lovers Romance (Paths To Love Book 3)

by Grahame Claire

  His jaw worked as he stared at me. I waited for the denial, but only a strained silence stretched between us. Being up close and personal had thrown me off balance, but the distance was worse.

  “No, I didn’t,” he finally said. “That’s a hell of an accusation.”

  “Not much different than what you did to me.” When someone hurt me, my only defense mechanism was to hurt them back, yet I felt no vindication.

  “I have evidence to back up my statement.”

  “Not when it came to me and your father.” How the hell had he believed either of us were capable of something so vile? So . . . disgusting?

  He loosened the knot of his tie as if it were choking him. “I meant about the inexplicable finances.”

  I shoved off the desk, hesitating with one hand on the doorknob and the other on the lock. “How did we get here?” I spoke to the wooden door, unable to turn around.

  “Apparently, I sank my family’s company.” The resentment tinged every word.

  “I meant us. We were a team, friends even. Now we hardly speak. When we do, we’re arguing over legal documents and embryos.” I remained in place, though his scent filled my nose. “What’s to fight about? We can both agree we’ve ruined the good relationship we had.” The taste in my mouth turned acidic. Maybe I’d been avoiding him because I didn’t want to lose him. Good Lord above, when had I turned into this walking contradiction of a person who couldn’t make a decision?

  “Are you stalling?”

  I hated his icy tone. Easton had always treated me with professionalism in the workplace, but when it was us there was an affection I’d never noticed until it was gone. This was what I’d wanted, right? The career, respect . . . suddenly it all felt empty.

  I unlocked the door and wordlessly returned to our office. “We probably shouldn’t discuss this here,” I said as I gathered my laptop.

  He shrugged as if to say “whatever” and grabbed his briefcase. I knew the truth. We were similar in that way, both incredibly hurt, disappointed, and confused. We pushed pause, because lashing out at each other over the last few months had done us no favors.

  “Easton, you’re home. Come get something to eat.”

  Muriella greeted him like she hadn’t seen him in years. We shouldn’t have come back to this chaos, but I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. My entire family was still in the city, thanks in part to the man of the hour. My sister-in-law wasn’t the only one giving Easton the royal treatment.

  “Son, sit here.” Granddaddy pulled out the chair next to him at the kitchen table. When Easton took a seat, he slapped his shoulder just like he always did to Daddy and my brothers.

  I rolled my eyes and grabbed a couple pieces of chocolate. “We have something important to take care of.” I shoved the Mars bar into my mouth.

  “Nothing is more important than spending time together.” Ruby pinched my side, and I dropped my chin to my chest, resigned that despite it being three in the afternoon, we were about to eat a full meal. “We’ve missed out on that over the last few months, haven’t we?”

  She took the chair on the other side of Easton and said something in his ear. He stiffened, but she pointed to her cheek and he kissed it.

  “I always wanted another brother. Stone’s such a pain in the ass.” Mitch bumped me in the shoulder.

  “Daddy, you better put some money in the cuss jar,” Gabby said, pointing toward the counter.

  “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Better put some more in,” I said, and he bumped me again.

  “That little fella who lives downstairs is going to have a hell of a haul from this cuss jar,” Granddaddy said, holding out a few bills for us to add.

  Carlos, who’d arrived late yesterday, shoved in those and some of his own. “This should cover me while I’m here.”

  “How’d you manage to get your own room?” I asked.

  “I sleep where I’m told.” He glanced affectionately, yet uncertainly at Muriella.

  Mama sat opposite Easton. “Where are you and my baby girl going to live?”

  Daddy grunted as he slung an arm around me. I gave him an odd look. “You’ll always be my little girl.” He kissed the side of my head and tears stung my eyes. “You happy, baby?”

  I burrowed against him but didn’t answer. He’d kick Easton’s ass for what he’d proposed to me, though I couldn’t burden him with all that mess. In the few minutes we’d been back at the apartment, my husband had officially become a member of the family.

  “We’re in the process of purchasing the building,” Daniel said. “You two should look at the floor below. It’s gutted, so you could do as you please.”

  I glared at him. Vivian grinned. “That’s a fabulous idea.” Her face fell. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Appreciate the offer,” Easton said.

  “We’ll go look after we eat,” Ruby piped up, turning to wink at me.

  “Your parents are still in the city, aren’t they?” Muriella asked, her kind gaze on Easton.

  “They are. My brother too.”

  “Maybe they’d prefer to stay here instead of a hotel.” She’d spoken as if it were a suggestion, but nobody at the table would be able to say no to her.

  “Probably so,” Easton agreed. “But I’m already enough of an imposition.”

  Muriella waved him off. “Nonsense. When we tour the apartment below, we’ll look at the others that are available to see which is suitable for your family.”

  While I liked the idea of Mr. and Mrs. Carter being here, I wasn’t so keen on Drew. After our last exchange in the closet, I’d been dodging him like the plague. Although it looked as if they’d probably be here by the end of the day if Muriella had her way.

  “I’m going to change clothes.” I couldn’t handle this normalcy. I’d gotten married and nobody hardly batted an eye, given that I’d hidden it from all of them. They were all acting like Easton and I were starting our new life together instead of trying to fix a Vegas mistake. I guess I hadn’t told them any different, but anybody could see the tension between us.

  “Mulaney Jacobs, you will help your sister-in-law and stop being such a sourpuss.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Stone and Mitch fist-bumped since I was the one in trouble with Mama. “I’m not being a sourpuss,” I said to myself.

  “I heard that,” she replied with a warning look.

  I was forty going on ten.

  “You’re incredibly lucky to be so loved,” Muriella said quietly as she handed me a dish of squash casserole.

  I didn’t need her to tell me that. Sometimes they were aggravating as all get out, and I just needed a minute. Or a time machine. One where I could go back and I’d still be getting scolded, but Easton wouldn’t be here.

  “Mulaney, I discussed your idea for Paths of Purpose with Mrs. Quinn,” Vivian said, and I was grateful for the distraction. “She agrees that mentorships for the ladies is a perfect fit.”

  When I’d gone there to speak, it became abundantly clear the women needed an opportunity. Paths of Purpose already had the framework in place with their partnerships. With a little work, we could help the ladies build a stronger foundation for their lives.

  “What about a home ownership program too?” I suggested.

  Vivian and Muriella’s excitement was palpable.

  “Yes. That’s perfect.” Vivian looked very close to coming around the table and hugging me. “Easton, you’re in charge of finance. Can you help us set it up?”

  He scrubbed his face. “That’s not exactly my area of expertise, but I’d be glad to help in any way I can.”

  Vivian beamed at him before she turned back to me. “Since this was your genius idea, you can be the first mentor.”

  I leaned against the counter for support, the casserole dish heavy in my hands. “Me?”

  “You’d be really great at it, Aunt Mulaney,” Leona said. Her blind faith in me was encouraging.

  “Sure.” I spoke he
sitantly, but it had nothing to do with lack of enthusiasm and more to do with what I could possibly teach anyone. “Whatever you need from me.”

  Muriella gave me a pleased nudge. “It will mean so much to the women.”

  I followed her as she took a dish toward the table. It would mean a lot to me too.

  “When am I getting some more great-grandchildren?”

  Easton choked on his drink, and Ruby patted his back. His eyes locked on mine as I set the casserole on the table. “We’re working on it.”

  Who said that at the dinner table in front of the whole family? Mama reached for my hand and pulled me in. She rubbed my stomach. “Are you?” she asked hopefully.

  “Hell no, she’s not,” Ruby said.

  “How do you know?” I placed a hand on my hip.

  “I can look at you and tell.” She motioned between Easton and me. “You need to work on it. That might fix this attitude.”

  “What attitude?”

  “That one.” An old, crooked finger pointed in my direction.

  “Anything else y’all want to say about me?” I asked, defenses rising.

  “You could tell us why you kicked your husband out of here after he told us the truth.” Granddaddy wiped his mouth with a napkin.

  “Who said I kicked him out?” My voice reached a fevered pitch.

  He turned a hard look to Easton. “Because no man would walk out on my girl.”

  Easton held his gaze. “What if she walks out on me?”

  “Then you better learn to hold on like hell.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Easton

  I yanked my tie off and tossed it on the dresser. The Jacobs were some of my favorite people, but they’d worn me out with question after question about the future with Mulaney and touring the apartment they’d deemed ours. The entire time I’d been left hanging, trying to figure out how she’d accused me of stealing the money from Carter Energy. I’d seen the files. I’d seen the offshore account in Dad’s name. Yet, she thought I’d stolen from CE.

  She slammed the door to the room we’d shared and kicked off her shoes. Her bare feet temporarily derailed me as I reached under the bed for the suitcase I’d left. My eyes traveled up slender legs until they made it to the point her skirt covered her knees. I’d learned to control my desire for her, but what was the point now? She was right. All we were was a pile of slung mud.

  None of that mattered. I sure as hell wanted her.

  “Gotten an eyeful yet?”

  “Everyone knows you’re my wife. I don’t have to pretend I’m not looking.” I unzipped the bag and pulled out a pair of jeans.

  “You never did.” The sides of her skirt gapped where she’d lowered the zipper.

  “I’ve always seen you.”

  She scooted into the bathroom, avoiding the things she didn’t want to hear. It was the truth. Why hide it? I’d already lost her.

  Unable to stand the quiet, I put on “Drunk Like You” by The Cadillac Three. Ever since I’d given in to my feelings for Mulaney, she’d had me the equivalent of shit-faced when it came to her.

  When she finally emerged, her eyes went straight to where my long-sleeved T-shirt was pulled taut across my chest. Hers barely covered her ass. She grabbed her sweatpants off the bed and tugged them on, obstructing the one highlight of my day.

  “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

  I snorted as she plopped down in the oversized chair and opened her laptop. She yanked on her hair, pulling the ponytail even higher on her head. Visions of chestnut silk wrapped around my fist cluttered my thoughts.

  Mulaney turned the screen toward me and the thoughts scattered, though I felt the after effects.

  I kicked the ottoman back and sat so that her legs were between mine. She placed the computer in my lap, and I studied the screen. From beside the chair, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey, the same brand we’d consumed the night we wed.

  “Need this?” She unscrewed the cap and took a long swallow.

  I temporarily abandoned the numbers and watched her throat work. In my head, her hair was wrapped around my fist again and I tugged, exposing the smooth column of skin. I could spend hours there, driving her crazy by avoiding that spot she loved kissed the most.

  She held the bottle in front of me. “You’re acting weird.”

  “What’s normal anyway?” I chugged some of the amber liquid and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Her eyes flared with the motion. “Look. These figures match.” I showed her the spreadsheet I had on my laptop from the same dates, and she frowned.

  “Every transaction is exactly the same, but in your version of EXODUS they’re in my department. In my version, they’re in yours.”

  “How the hell does that happen? We’re both logged in to the same program.”

  She typed in her username and password at warp speed and clicked to the screen of transactions. I did the same. She was right.

  “Why are our versions different?” she asked, shoving the laptop away in disgust.

  “I don’t know, but even so, these numbers don’t add up to a one-billion-dollar loss,” I said, shoving my hand through my hair.

  She tapped her index finger on the arm of the chair. “It stands to reason when your father logs in, he sees something different than we do too, right?”

  “I guess.” Pieces clicked into place. That was the only thing that made sense. He’d seen numbers that were cause for alarm that I couldn’t see because I didn’t have them.

  “I’ll have Holly go through both of our accounts to be sure.” Mulaney snatched her phone up and fired off a text.

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Another set of eyes won’t hurt,” she said as an immediate response chimed. “She’s on it.”

  I nodded. Holly. Did she really believe that Mulaney and my dad were having an affair? Not now. Now, I was itching to get my hands on the real numbers. “Do you still think I took the money?”

  “No.” She bounced her knee. “But it doesn’t explain why you have a bunch of offshore accounts in your name.”

  My legs involuntarily clamped around hers. “How the hell do you know that?”

  “I asked Daniel.”

  I gaped at her. “You brought him into our business?”

  “Why do you have the accounts?” She glazed right over the more important issue.

  “We don’t know Daniel. You should’ve come to me first. You should’ve asked me.” I stabbed my index finger into my chest.

  “When exactly was I supposed to do that? You blabbed our shit and left.” She lowered her face, and although I knew she was confused, it was her anger and hurt that struck me the most.

  “Still have a bag with my shit here.”

  “Don’t you dare do that. You disappeared.”

  “Like you wanted me to stay,” I tossed back.

  “What are all those accounts?”

  I cut my eyes toward the door. “Keep your voice down.”

  “Easton, you are the most straight-laced person I know. At least I thought you were. Why did you take the money? Why did you implode the company? If you wanted to walk, you could’ve just left.” She gripped the chair arms like she was holding herself back from strangling me.

  “Define ‘a bunch’ because I only have a few,” I said.

  “Seventy-seven.”

  “What? That’s impossible.”

  She pulled a folder from her bag and shoved it at me. Some of the account numbers I immediately recognized, but most of them, I’d never seen. I counted even though I knew Mulaney was telling the truth.

  Seventy-seven.

  “I figured it was intentional,” she said. “It’s your baseball number.”

  “You remember that?”

  She lifted a shoulder and lowered it. “Baseball was my third love.”

  “Third?”

  “Oil. Horses. Baseball.”

  I scrubbed my hand across my forehead. “I set up seven of them. The rest, I have no
idea.”

  “But if you didn’t set them up, how are they there? Did you think I had the same amount?”

  “I don’t know how or why we can both see evidence of multiple offshore accounts we know nothing about.”

  She thought on that for a moment, then shifted. “Why seven?”

  “Just a number.” It was so much more than that, but I couldn’t give her anything else. Mulaney had taken and taken. It wouldn’t be long until there was nothing left of me.

  A humph noise escaped her. She didn’t believe me, but it didn’t matter. “What do you have to hide?”

  “Nothing. I’m surprised you haven’t set any up yourself. It’s a piece to a money management strategy. They aren’t illegal.” I closed my laptop and rubbed my temples.

  She batted my hands out of the way and took over. I closed my eyes as she massaged the tension away.

  “You thought your father and I masterminded this.”

  “He thinks I had something to do with it. Told me if I needed money, I could’ve just asked.” I sniffed. “What the hell would I need one billion dollars for?”

  “Side project,” she suggested, pressing her fingertips deeper into my skull.

  “That would be a heck of a side project.”

  She dropped her hands, and I leaned forward.

  “Don’t stop.”

  “What have I ever done to make you think I’d steal from the company? You sure didn’t seem to have any problem believing that.” Fragile was never a word I’d used to describe Mulaney, yet the more time we spent together, the more I discovered she wasn’t an indestructible force. She was hurt I’d ever entertained the idea she’d steal. She was hurt I wanted her eggs. She was hurt I’d left her here the other night even though she was the one who had run.

  “We’ve always been good at solving problems,” I said, opening my eyes.

  “Not as of late.”

  “We used to be a team.”

  Her hands fell to her lap. “Not the romantic kind.”

  “It was only one night, but we were really damn good at that.”

  “What are you saying?”