Honey Do Me, page 16
part #4 of Nights In New York Series
“OH, GOD!” I scream, his own orgasm fanning the flames of mine, ecstasy rushing through my veins at breakneck speed.
We remain like that for what seems like an eternity. For a moment, there’s nothing but our two naked bodies, a blanket of warm pleasure wrapped tightly around us.
But outside that warm embrace of love and pleasure, there’s a cold visitor that’s waiting for the both of us: the bet.
Whatever we have tonight, and no matter how happy we are, that day of reckoning is coming.
I push it out of my head.
We’ll deal with it later.
We have to now.
I can’t lose Carter. I’ll lose myself.
Welcome to the Gossip Gurus!
Live from the Big Apple, it’s the gossip show with it’s finger on the pulse of the city! Where we sit and talk about the life and doings of all this city’s doings.
Fresh from getting kicked off the public airwaves, pull up a chair because it’s time for...The Gossip Gurus!
Tristan: Hello out there from Radio Land, New York! Welcome to Gossip Gurus. Where we give you the dirt that you can use to grow your filthy tree of a day! I’m your host, Tristan Manning.
Natalie: And I’m your co-host, Natalie Bell, and I’m smell-blind today. Too. Many. Flowers. Wedding planning is hard. But so worth it! Also, you’ll have to excuse Tristan, we spent all morning snuggling and fucking. We’re in a love coma.
Tristan: I have no more cum left!
Natalie: Awww.
Tristan: Natalie drank it all!
Natalie: The best part of waking up is a dick that goes up your butt! Also, bringing you the saucy news. Carter Kane’s probably out of cum, too.
Tristan: That’s right, New York! You’ve been following the Carter and Becca story with us for weeks now and our spies are telling us that they see them everywhere. From charity galas at The Met to having drinks down in the Bowery to brunches at the Boathouse to even shopping at Saks. Something is definitely up with these two and it’s no longer about income inequality.
Natalie: Maybe it’s sex brain but I so don’t have a zinger for income inequality, and come’s right there in the word. But seriously, these two lovebirds forgot about taking each other down. They’re holding hands and making heart eyes at each other. It’s kind of sweet.
Tristan: Our incomes are unequal. Do you want a deposit? How’s that for a zinger?
Natalie: Haha, not bad. I wonder if that would even set Becca off at this point. Like, they’re all wrapped up in each other. Makes you wonder...what happens to her movement and his empire? They can’t exactly coexist!
Tristan: Well right now we have pictures of his empire grabbing her movement while they were waiting for a car.
Natalie: Oh, yeah, and what’s this about Carter Kane saving jobs, even creating them?
Tristan: Right. Since when did the man who created #CondomGate start becoming a man of the people?
Natalie: And why are New York’s elite partying in the Lower East Side with Carter and Becca? Has the whole city lost its mind?
Tristan: Makes me think. Carter and Becca are so happy. We used to be too. Natalie, I’m sorry about saying your best friends were hookers.
Natalie: Awwwwwwwwwwww. That’s so sweet. And they are kind of hookers. Amy actually did get pregnant the other night. So I’m sorry too. I wuuuuuuv you, too.
Tristan: Right. And during lunch last time Marcy told the waiter she’d blow him because she had maxed out her credit card.
Natalie: You were doing so well, Tristan. My attempt at compromise and also apologizing is not your chance to call my friends sluts again! But yes they are. I forgive you. Marcy, get some class. Tristan, touch my ass.
Tristan: I love you, Natalie Bell.
Natalie: I love you, future husband.
Tristan: And that’s a wrap I guess. Join us tomorrow when we discuss how some wealthy New Yorkers are starting to raise their own ducks for Christmas.
Thank you for listening to I’m Haa--aaard Radio! Now delivering to 100 million listeners daily!
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Taylor
“It’s a deal then,” I say as I stand up and shake the hands of the Japanese businessmen seated across from me.
I’m at the Clarendon Tower Members Bar on the sixty-fifth floor. It’s reserved only for residents of the building and their guests. The Members Bar is probably the most exclusive place in New York City.
You read romance novels, right? Well, that’s a pretty obvious answer since, you know, you’re reading me right now.
Anyways, do you ever sit back and ask yourself just how many billionaires do actually live in New York City? Add good-looking to that question, and it’s enough to make you wonder if you could throw a rock and hit a billionaire after getting off the plane at JFK.
Well, let me tell you something. If you want to know where the good-looking billionaires are hanging out in New York City, go no further than the Members Bar.
This is basically where the cream of the crop come to unwind after a long day. Whether they live in the building or they’re friends with the residents and are accompanied by them, you’re never going to find a higher concentration of billionaires enjoying their booze than here.
The Japanese businessmen, who I’ve just had a meeting with, represent the Sumitomo Corporation. We’ve just closed a 140-billion-dollar deal, where Draper Pierce is going to take a stake in their expanded US operations.
We’re announcing it tomorrow. The share price for both companies will probably go through the roof. With all the stocks I own at Draper Pierce, I’ll probably end up being about a billion dollars richer.
I escort the Japanese businessmen to the elevator and bid them farewell.
I’m about to get in the next elevator as well when an arm grabs me from the back.
“Not so fast, Taylor,” a voice says to me. “We need to talk.”
I turn around. I’m flabbergasted, but actually more pissed off.
No one has the nerve to do that to me. I’m the fucking CEO of Draper Pierce.
My anger subsides, though, when I see that it’s just Carter.
Carter and I go way back. Let me take you for brief walk down memory lane.
Before Kane & Company became as it is today, Carter came to Draper Pierce for a loan, and our Merchant Banking Division was hesitant if it was a wise investment. This was back in the day when I was running that department at Draper Pierce and I came across his loan application.
I looked over his track record and found out that he’d grown up poor. He worked hard for every single dollar he had made, and he took a huge gamble on something he believed in: importing and exporting goods.
I called him in for an interview. He was a brash, arrogant, and cocky bastard. Despite these traits, I knew that he’d be successful.
I approved the loan on the spot. Then I told him that when he was ready, I’d help him move into a premier destination in New York City. But it was only once that he had made at least a billion dollars.
That was several years ago, and I’ve never regretted my decision.
While I have simple tastes, Carter is a metronome. Then again, he’s the hardest worker I’ve ever known, and he’s always followed the rules.
Yeah, he parties hard. But who doesn’t?
“What can I help you with?” I ask as he loosens his grip.
“Let’s get a drink and talk,” he says, and I nod as we walk to the bar.
We find a spot and order our usuals.
He waits till we’re served before looking at me.
“I want to know why Ashley and Becca kept going off into the corner and having serious discussions yesterday,” Carter tells me as I take a sip.
It’s the only thing I can do to not choke on my drink.
“Where the fuck did this question come from?” I ask Carter, and he shrugs.
“It just seems weird,” he tells me as he takes a sip. “Becca knows Ashley just as much as she knows Serena or any of the girls, right?”
I’m silent. I don’t want to lie to Carter. He’s my friend.
“Why would she single her out and talk to her throughout the night?” he goes further.
“Maybe she liked Becca’s cooking?” I try to sound convincing. He shakes his head.
“No,” he says with confidence. “They were engaged in some pretty serious-looking shit.”
I’m really not looking forward to this.
“I don’t know, man,” I tell Carter. “Have you asked Becca? She was the one who was there.”
“She wouldn’t tell me,” he replies. “I asked once, and she laughed it off.”
“Then what makes you think I would know?” I ask him, trying to get out of this situation.
“Because you fucking know Ashley.”
“Oh, please,” I respond. “You and all the guys are always saying shit like that. Ashley is a tough cookie, dude. We’re just friends—”
“Cut the bullshit,” Carter interrupts me, and my eyes flare up. “You know just as well as I do that you’re fucking into Ashley.”
“Hey!” I protest.
“Listen, Taylor,” Carter begins, taking another sip, “I’m not here to debate whether Ashley likes you or not. You know that you fucking like her, and you’re hoping that she likes you too. But you guys sound dumb as fucking rocks when you play that ‘Oh, I don’t know. We’re just friends’ card. No one fucking buys it.”
“Well, if you’re not going to buy what I tell you, what the fuck does it matter what I say?” I ask Carter.
He takes a minute to make sense of my question before shaking his head.
“Listen, you’re my friend. I have a bet with Becca. She’s supposed to try and take me down. I’ve been doing everything in my power to save my company and get these fucking protesters off my back. If she’s planning something with my friend Ashley, then I need to know.”
“She’s not planning something with Ashley,” I assure him.
“How do you know?” he challenges. “Ashley’s a lawyer. Did #TooManyBillionaires retain Ashley? To sue me for inequality or some shit?”
“No, I doubt that,” I say glumly. I can’t lie to Carter, but I can’t tell him the truth either.
“I know you know.” Carter just won’t stop, his eyes pleading even if his words aren’t. “Please, we’ve been friends for so long, if you fucking know something, tell me.”
I hesitate for a long moment. I’m trapped between a rock and a hard place.
“I love this woman, Taylor,” he finally blurts it out. “But I don’t know if it’s just a bet to her.”
Fuck. That does it. This has gone far enough.
If Ashley can’t knock some sense into Becca, maybe I should do it.
“Fine,” I sigh.
Carter looks at me hopefully. “You know?”
I nod.
“Yeah,” I confirm. “And I’ll tell you.”
“Thank you so much, man,” he replies, patting me on the shoulder.
“But,” I begin, gesturing to the bartender to get us another round of drinks, “you’re going to need a few more of these.”
Chapter Thirty
Becca
“You look happy.”
“Of course, I’m happy,” I reply, looking Ashley in the eyes as I put the sashimi into my mouth. It’s harder than it seems—I never really understood how people manage to eat anything with chopsticks.
Next time Ashley wants to go out for lunch, I will pick the spot.
“I mean, have you seen the apartment? Can you really believe it? Carter really went above and beyond to renovate it.”
“Are you saying that it’s for real?” Ashley asks, eyeing me as if she can see right through me. And honestly, I think she really can. No wonder she’s a damn good lawyer—one hard look at you and you’d think she’s read your mind.
“You can say that again,” I admit, reaching for the sake and bringing the tiny cup to my lips. “It’s different with Carter. He’s nothing like I imagined him to be.”
“What?” She rolls her eyes, casually picking a piece of sushi out of the plate. “So you’re telling me that he’s off the hook when it comes to screwing people’s lives?” she says with a grin. “Just because he’s rich and arrogant doesn’t mean that he’s the devil himself. Not all rich people are evil, you know.”
“I know that.”
“Of course you do,” she laughs, her eyes never leaving mine. “After all, you’re one of them.”
“I’m not,” I protest, but deep inside, I know that it’s no use. How the hell can I assert on the fact that I’m not rich when I have an apartment at Clarendon Tower? I might have to play pretend to lead my movement, but I don’t want to become a full-blown hypocrite. “Okay, Ash, you win.”
“I always win,” she laughs again. “But seriously, have you really thought about what you’re doing? I mean, I know that you’re happy and all that, but shacking up with a billionaire in some dump of an apartment isn’t exactly going to help your movement, is it?”
“Well, we bet that—”
“The bet?” she snorts. “Please. You know as well as I do that it’s no longer about the bet. Tell me if I’m wrong—even if we both know that I’m not. I’m just trying to humor you—because I’m pretty certain that you’re more interested in Carter himself than in the bet you guys made.”
“Okay, fine,” I tell her, completely giving up. There’s no way I’ll be able to keep the truth from her. “You’re right. I care about him, but the fact that I’m in love with him doesn’t change any—”
“You’re what?”
“What?”
“Repeat that.”
“I said I care about him.”
“No,” she insists, leaning toward me as she narrows her eyes. “The other thing.”
“I’m in love with him,” I repeat, pursing my lips as I try to gauge her reaction. She leans back against her seat, blinks twice, and then face-palms as she sighs heavily.
Then she bursts out laughing.
“You’re batshit crazy, Becca,” she finally declares, shaking her head. “You lead an army to his doorstep, hell-bent on destroying him and his business, and you end up falling for him?”
“You know how it goes,” I admit. “Enemies to lovers and all that.”
“Yeah, I know the trope. I read Tara Starr. But what if it isn’t that simple?” she asks worriedly. “What if this story is really about enemies to lovers…and then to enemies again? Because things might be working fine now, Becca, but the whole thing is a mess. You’ve been lying to him all this time, and sooner or later, he’s going to find out about it. And he might be a great guy and all that, but how do you think he’s going to react?”
“I don’t know,” I confess with a sigh.
She’s right. But what can I do about it?
Nothing.
Besides, if I had been honest right from the start, this whole thing would have turned out so differently.
He would have never taken my movement seriously.
He would have never made the bet.
We wouldn’t have been thrust together in the first place.
We wouldn’t have moved in together.
We would have never fallen in love.
“Get ahead of this thing, Becca,” Ashley warns. “It’s not yet too late. If you tell him the truth, you have a chance. But if he finds out on his own…”
“You’re right. You’re always right,” I concede, offering her a smile. More than just my lawyer, I’m glad I can count on Ashley as my friend. God knows how many times she has saved my ass, both as a lawyer and as a friend.
“This is what I’m going to do,” I continue, playing a mental scenario inside my head. “I’m going to go home right now, and I’m going to wait for Carter. And once he gets there, I’m going to tell him the whole truth. No more lies.”
“Now that’s a start.” She smiles, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “If you do that, I’m sure he’ll understand. He might act and talk tough, but everyone can tell he has a soft spot for you.”
“I hope you’re right. Because I…I really love him, Ash.”
“I know, babe. That’s exactly why you have to do the right thing, before it’s too late.”
“Amen.” I nod, pushing the chair back as I stand up. “Thank you, Ash. It really means a lot to me.”
“Anytime, Becca. Let me know if you need anything or—just let me know, okay? Good luck.”
One final nod at her and I head out of the restaurant, hailing the first taxi I see on the street. Twenty minutes later and I’m back in the Lower East Side, making my way up our apartment building.
Yeah, I know. It isn’t exactly our apartment—he’s just crashing with me, or whatever you want to call the situation—but I can’t help to think of it like that.
Don’t shake your head.
Please.
I’ve fallen that hard for him.
“Carter?” I call out as I step inside the apartment, hoping that he’s home. The only respond I get is a drawn-out silence and a kind of echo that shouldn’t be here. I take a look around the apartment, an anxious feeling suddenly taking over me, and I realize that something’s amiss.
The apartment seems emptier than it was when I left this morning, but I can’t tell exactly what’s missing. Only when I make my way into the bedroom do I finally realize what’s wrong: Carter’s things are gone.
His clothes are no longer in the closet, and even the books he usually left on the coffee table in the living room are gone. It’s as if he were never here in the first place.
What the hell happened?
Nervous, I grab my phone and call him. He picks up at the second ring.
“Carter? Where are you?”
“At the office,” he replies coldly. This isn’t good.
“All your stuff are gone. What happened?” I ask, already anticipating what he’s going to say next.
“I know. I moved out.”
No.
Oh, God.
Please.
This can’t be happening.
My hands are trembling.
We remain like that for what seems like an eternity. For a moment, there’s nothing but our two naked bodies, a blanket of warm pleasure wrapped tightly around us.
But outside that warm embrace of love and pleasure, there’s a cold visitor that’s waiting for the both of us: the bet.
Whatever we have tonight, and no matter how happy we are, that day of reckoning is coming.
I push it out of my head.
We’ll deal with it later.
We have to now.
I can’t lose Carter. I’ll lose myself.
Welcome to the Gossip Gurus!
Live from the Big Apple, it’s the gossip show with it’s finger on the pulse of the city! Where we sit and talk about the life and doings of all this city’s doings.
Fresh from getting kicked off the public airwaves, pull up a chair because it’s time for...The Gossip Gurus!
Tristan: Hello out there from Radio Land, New York! Welcome to Gossip Gurus. Where we give you the dirt that you can use to grow your filthy tree of a day! I’m your host, Tristan Manning.
Natalie: And I’m your co-host, Natalie Bell, and I’m smell-blind today. Too. Many. Flowers. Wedding planning is hard. But so worth it! Also, you’ll have to excuse Tristan, we spent all morning snuggling and fucking. We’re in a love coma.
Tristan: I have no more cum left!
Natalie: Awww.
Tristan: Natalie drank it all!
Natalie: The best part of waking up is a dick that goes up your butt! Also, bringing you the saucy news. Carter Kane’s probably out of cum, too.
Tristan: That’s right, New York! You’ve been following the Carter and Becca story with us for weeks now and our spies are telling us that they see them everywhere. From charity galas at The Met to having drinks down in the Bowery to brunches at the Boathouse to even shopping at Saks. Something is definitely up with these two and it’s no longer about income inequality.
Natalie: Maybe it’s sex brain but I so don’t have a zinger for income inequality, and come’s right there in the word. But seriously, these two lovebirds forgot about taking each other down. They’re holding hands and making heart eyes at each other. It’s kind of sweet.
Tristan: Our incomes are unequal. Do you want a deposit? How’s that for a zinger?
Natalie: Haha, not bad. I wonder if that would even set Becca off at this point. Like, they’re all wrapped up in each other. Makes you wonder...what happens to her movement and his empire? They can’t exactly coexist!
Tristan: Well right now we have pictures of his empire grabbing her movement while they were waiting for a car.
Natalie: Oh, yeah, and what’s this about Carter Kane saving jobs, even creating them?
Tristan: Right. Since when did the man who created #CondomGate start becoming a man of the people?
Natalie: And why are New York’s elite partying in the Lower East Side with Carter and Becca? Has the whole city lost its mind?
Tristan: Makes me think. Carter and Becca are so happy. We used to be too. Natalie, I’m sorry about saying your best friends were hookers.
Natalie: Awwwwwwwwwwww. That’s so sweet. And they are kind of hookers. Amy actually did get pregnant the other night. So I’m sorry too. I wuuuuuuv you, too.
Tristan: Right. And during lunch last time Marcy told the waiter she’d blow him because she had maxed out her credit card.
Natalie: You were doing so well, Tristan. My attempt at compromise and also apologizing is not your chance to call my friends sluts again! But yes they are. I forgive you. Marcy, get some class. Tristan, touch my ass.
Tristan: I love you, Natalie Bell.
Natalie: I love you, future husband.
Tristan: And that’s a wrap I guess. Join us tomorrow when we discuss how some wealthy New Yorkers are starting to raise their own ducks for Christmas.
Thank you for listening to I’m Haa--aaard Radio! Now delivering to 100 million listeners daily!
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Taylor
“It’s a deal then,” I say as I stand up and shake the hands of the Japanese businessmen seated across from me.
I’m at the Clarendon Tower Members Bar on the sixty-fifth floor. It’s reserved only for residents of the building and their guests. The Members Bar is probably the most exclusive place in New York City.
You read romance novels, right? Well, that’s a pretty obvious answer since, you know, you’re reading me right now.
Anyways, do you ever sit back and ask yourself just how many billionaires do actually live in New York City? Add good-looking to that question, and it’s enough to make you wonder if you could throw a rock and hit a billionaire after getting off the plane at JFK.
Well, let me tell you something. If you want to know where the good-looking billionaires are hanging out in New York City, go no further than the Members Bar.
This is basically where the cream of the crop come to unwind after a long day. Whether they live in the building or they’re friends with the residents and are accompanied by them, you’re never going to find a higher concentration of billionaires enjoying their booze than here.
The Japanese businessmen, who I’ve just had a meeting with, represent the Sumitomo Corporation. We’ve just closed a 140-billion-dollar deal, where Draper Pierce is going to take a stake in their expanded US operations.
We’re announcing it tomorrow. The share price for both companies will probably go through the roof. With all the stocks I own at Draper Pierce, I’ll probably end up being about a billion dollars richer.
I escort the Japanese businessmen to the elevator and bid them farewell.
I’m about to get in the next elevator as well when an arm grabs me from the back.
“Not so fast, Taylor,” a voice says to me. “We need to talk.”
I turn around. I’m flabbergasted, but actually more pissed off.
No one has the nerve to do that to me. I’m the fucking CEO of Draper Pierce.
My anger subsides, though, when I see that it’s just Carter.
Carter and I go way back. Let me take you for brief walk down memory lane.
Before Kane & Company became as it is today, Carter came to Draper Pierce for a loan, and our Merchant Banking Division was hesitant if it was a wise investment. This was back in the day when I was running that department at Draper Pierce and I came across his loan application.
I looked over his track record and found out that he’d grown up poor. He worked hard for every single dollar he had made, and he took a huge gamble on something he believed in: importing and exporting goods.
I called him in for an interview. He was a brash, arrogant, and cocky bastard. Despite these traits, I knew that he’d be successful.
I approved the loan on the spot. Then I told him that when he was ready, I’d help him move into a premier destination in New York City. But it was only once that he had made at least a billion dollars.
That was several years ago, and I’ve never regretted my decision.
While I have simple tastes, Carter is a metronome. Then again, he’s the hardest worker I’ve ever known, and he’s always followed the rules.
Yeah, he parties hard. But who doesn’t?
“What can I help you with?” I ask as he loosens his grip.
“Let’s get a drink and talk,” he says, and I nod as we walk to the bar.
We find a spot and order our usuals.
He waits till we’re served before looking at me.
“I want to know why Ashley and Becca kept going off into the corner and having serious discussions yesterday,” Carter tells me as I take a sip.
It’s the only thing I can do to not choke on my drink.
“Where the fuck did this question come from?” I ask Carter, and he shrugs.
“It just seems weird,” he tells me as he takes a sip. “Becca knows Ashley just as much as she knows Serena or any of the girls, right?”
I’m silent. I don’t want to lie to Carter. He’s my friend.
“Why would she single her out and talk to her throughout the night?” he goes further.
“Maybe she liked Becca’s cooking?” I try to sound convincing. He shakes his head.
“No,” he says with confidence. “They were engaged in some pretty serious-looking shit.”
I’m really not looking forward to this.
“I don’t know, man,” I tell Carter. “Have you asked Becca? She was the one who was there.”
“She wouldn’t tell me,” he replies. “I asked once, and she laughed it off.”
“Then what makes you think I would know?” I ask him, trying to get out of this situation.
“Because you fucking know Ashley.”
“Oh, please,” I respond. “You and all the guys are always saying shit like that. Ashley is a tough cookie, dude. We’re just friends—”
“Cut the bullshit,” Carter interrupts me, and my eyes flare up. “You know just as well as I do that you’re fucking into Ashley.”
“Hey!” I protest.
“Listen, Taylor,” Carter begins, taking another sip, “I’m not here to debate whether Ashley likes you or not. You know that you fucking like her, and you’re hoping that she likes you too. But you guys sound dumb as fucking rocks when you play that ‘Oh, I don’t know. We’re just friends’ card. No one fucking buys it.”
“Well, if you’re not going to buy what I tell you, what the fuck does it matter what I say?” I ask Carter.
He takes a minute to make sense of my question before shaking his head.
“Listen, you’re my friend. I have a bet with Becca. She’s supposed to try and take me down. I’ve been doing everything in my power to save my company and get these fucking protesters off my back. If she’s planning something with my friend Ashley, then I need to know.”
“She’s not planning something with Ashley,” I assure him.
“How do you know?” he challenges. “Ashley’s a lawyer. Did #TooManyBillionaires retain Ashley? To sue me for inequality or some shit?”
“No, I doubt that,” I say glumly. I can’t lie to Carter, but I can’t tell him the truth either.
“I know you know.” Carter just won’t stop, his eyes pleading even if his words aren’t. “Please, we’ve been friends for so long, if you fucking know something, tell me.”
I hesitate for a long moment. I’m trapped between a rock and a hard place.
“I love this woman, Taylor,” he finally blurts it out. “But I don’t know if it’s just a bet to her.”
Fuck. That does it. This has gone far enough.
If Ashley can’t knock some sense into Becca, maybe I should do it.
“Fine,” I sigh.
Carter looks at me hopefully. “You know?”
I nod.
“Yeah,” I confirm. “And I’ll tell you.”
“Thank you so much, man,” he replies, patting me on the shoulder.
“But,” I begin, gesturing to the bartender to get us another round of drinks, “you’re going to need a few more of these.”
Chapter Thirty
Becca
“You look happy.”
“Of course, I’m happy,” I reply, looking Ashley in the eyes as I put the sashimi into my mouth. It’s harder than it seems—I never really understood how people manage to eat anything with chopsticks.
Next time Ashley wants to go out for lunch, I will pick the spot.
“I mean, have you seen the apartment? Can you really believe it? Carter really went above and beyond to renovate it.”
“Are you saying that it’s for real?” Ashley asks, eyeing me as if she can see right through me. And honestly, I think she really can. No wonder she’s a damn good lawyer—one hard look at you and you’d think she’s read your mind.
“You can say that again,” I admit, reaching for the sake and bringing the tiny cup to my lips. “It’s different with Carter. He’s nothing like I imagined him to be.”
“What?” She rolls her eyes, casually picking a piece of sushi out of the plate. “So you’re telling me that he’s off the hook when it comes to screwing people’s lives?” she says with a grin. “Just because he’s rich and arrogant doesn’t mean that he’s the devil himself. Not all rich people are evil, you know.”
“I know that.”
“Of course you do,” she laughs, her eyes never leaving mine. “After all, you’re one of them.”
“I’m not,” I protest, but deep inside, I know that it’s no use. How the hell can I assert on the fact that I’m not rich when I have an apartment at Clarendon Tower? I might have to play pretend to lead my movement, but I don’t want to become a full-blown hypocrite. “Okay, Ash, you win.”
“I always win,” she laughs again. “But seriously, have you really thought about what you’re doing? I mean, I know that you’re happy and all that, but shacking up with a billionaire in some dump of an apartment isn’t exactly going to help your movement, is it?”
“Well, we bet that—”
“The bet?” she snorts. “Please. You know as well as I do that it’s no longer about the bet. Tell me if I’m wrong—even if we both know that I’m not. I’m just trying to humor you—because I’m pretty certain that you’re more interested in Carter himself than in the bet you guys made.”
“Okay, fine,” I tell her, completely giving up. There’s no way I’ll be able to keep the truth from her. “You’re right. I care about him, but the fact that I’m in love with him doesn’t change any—”
“You’re what?”
“What?”
“Repeat that.”
“I said I care about him.”
“No,” she insists, leaning toward me as she narrows her eyes. “The other thing.”
“I’m in love with him,” I repeat, pursing my lips as I try to gauge her reaction. She leans back against her seat, blinks twice, and then face-palms as she sighs heavily.
Then she bursts out laughing.
“You’re batshit crazy, Becca,” she finally declares, shaking her head. “You lead an army to his doorstep, hell-bent on destroying him and his business, and you end up falling for him?”
“You know how it goes,” I admit. “Enemies to lovers and all that.”
“Yeah, I know the trope. I read Tara Starr. But what if it isn’t that simple?” she asks worriedly. “What if this story is really about enemies to lovers…and then to enemies again? Because things might be working fine now, Becca, but the whole thing is a mess. You’ve been lying to him all this time, and sooner or later, he’s going to find out about it. And he might be a great guy and all that, but how do you think he’s going to react?”
“I don’t know,” I confess with a sigh.
She’s right. But what can I do about it?
Nothing.
Besides, if I had been honest right from the start, this whole thing would have turned out so differently.
He would have never taken my movement seriously.
He would have never made the bet.
We wouldn’t have been thrust together in the first place.
We wouldn’t have moved in together.
We would have never fallen in love.
“Get ahead of this thing, Becca,” Ashley warns. “It’s not yet too late. If you tell him the truth, you have a chance. But if he finds out on his own…”
“You’re right. You’re always right,” I concede, offering her a smile. More than just my lawyer, I’m glad I can count on Ashley as my friend. God knows how many times she has saved my ass, both as a lawyer and as a friend.
“This is what I’m going to do,” I continue, playing a mental scenario inside my head. “I’m going to go home right now, and I’m going to wait for Carter. And once he gets there, I’m going to tell him the whole truth. No more lies.”
“Now that’s a start.” She smiles, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “If you do that, I’m sure he’ll understand. He might act and talk tough, but everyone can tell he has a soft spot for you.”
“I hope you’re right. Because I…I really love him, Ash.”
“I know, babe. That’s exactly why you have to do the right thing, before it’s too late.”
“Amen.” I nod, pushing the chair back as I stand up. “Thank you, Ash. It really means a lot to me.”
“Anytime, Becca. Let me know if you need anything or—just let me know, okay? Good luck.”
One final nod at her and I head out of the restaurant, hailing the first taxi I see on the street. Twenty minutes later and I’m back in the Lower East Side, making my way up our apartment building.
Yeah, I know. It isn’t exactly our apartment—he’s just crashing with me, or whatever you want to call the situation—but I can’t help to think of it like that.
Don’t shake your head.
Please.
I’ve fallen that hard for him.
“Carter?” I call out as I step inside the apartment, hoping that he’s home. The only respond I get is a drawn-out silence and a kind of echo that shouldn’t be here. I take a look around the apartment, an anxious feeling suddenly taking over me, and I realize that something’s amiss.
The apartment seems emptier than it was when I left this morning, but I can’t tell exactly what’s missing. Only when I make my way into the bedroom do I finally realize what’s wrong: Carter’s things are gone.
His clothes are no longer in the closet, and even the books he usually left on the coffee table in the living room are gone. It’s as if he were never here in the first place.
What the hell happened?
Nervous, I grab my phone and call him. He picks up at the second ring.
“Carter? Where are you?”
“At the office,” he replies coldly. This isn’t good.
“All your stuff are gone. What happened?” I ask, already anticipating what he’s going to say next.
“I know. I moved out.”
No.
Oh, God.
Please.
This can’t be happening.
My hands are trembling.
