2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Laney

“D on’t you dare go talk to him, Laney!” Brandy, my best friend, dares. She’s the type that says the opposite of what she means, while her eyes dance with mirth. Sarcasm is her strongest suit. And I know that she wants so badly for me to go talk to him, so I can come back with dirt, which she lives for. That’s one of the reasons why I knew that her marriage to Kurt wouldn’t work. He’s a very by-the-book type, and she’s so not. Plus, it didn’t help that he couldn’t handle the fact that she’s stinking bloody rich, and he’s, well, not.

“I’ll give you my T-Bird.” Wendy, Brandy’s sister, taunts. Wendy is also a billionaire, but she’s an entrepreneur, who travels the world, designing mansions for the rich, based off their wishes from inspiring pieces in lush countries. Wendy knows that I’m also a billionaire, so bribing me with money will be for naught. But I’m completely head over heels in love with her red, 1957 Thunderbird convertible. I’d give her my first born for that beautiful car.

“You’re full of shit.” I call her on her bluff. There’s no way she’d give that up on account of a stupid conversation with some billionaire guy who probably still has his mama cut the crusts off his sandwiches.

“You’re right. I am.” She admits. “But you have to admit, with the liquid courage you’ve got going on there, and the looks he’s giving you, it’s tempting to go tease the little boy.”

“Go give him a blow job.” Brandy teases further. “I bet it’ll be his first.”

“First that he didn’t have to pay for, that is.” Wendy adds.

“Um…” Laurie, Brandy and Wendy’s cousin, interrupts. “You do know that that’s Caleb Harris, right? He was ranked the most photographed bachelor from some teen magazine. And I’ve seen him all over the pages of all the other magazines.”

“What are you doing reading teen magazines, you weirdo.” Brandy states.

“I didn’t say I read it. I just skimmed through it.”

“What were you doing skimming through it.” Janice, Brandy’s friend, says, voice flat, but with a smile on her face.

“I think we’re missing the point here, girls.” Brandy informs. “The fact that the most eligible bachelor is sitting on the opposite side of the bar, mere feet from us, just out of earshot, and he seems to be trying to make love to Laney here with his eyes.” She looks at me. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Does it matter that I’m too drunk to care?” I ask, tipping my head back, tossing back the last of my wine.

“Please. You’re a Scot. You can handle yourself.” Brandy says, not impressed. She’s seen me on drinking binges with my da. She knows that I’ve never been too drunk to care. I’m just nonplussed. The truth of the matter is that Brandy’s divorce simply places a nail in the casket for me. Sure, Kurt wasn’t rich, and he couldn’t handle it that Brandy was, and Caleb Harris is probably about as rich as I am, so the point I’m making is moot. He could handle it. Not that I’m even giving the thought of hooking up with Caleb Harris an iota of energy. I have zero interest in men. None of them interest me. Every rich boy I’ve met, which is frequent, are so fucking full of themselves it makes my stomach turn. And when I have hooked up with non-rich men, they’re so intimidated by me it makes me equally nauseous.

…but they are fun to play with.

“Alright, I’ll bet you he’s here to see me.” I guess.

“Why do you say that?” Brandy tries.

“Please. He’s at a bar, alone, in the middle of the day, and he’s not poring his heart out over a lass, clearly, since he’s checking me out.”

“How did he know you were here?” Wendy probes.

I wave. “Investment one-oh-one is you check out your investments, and you keep your friends close and your enemies closer. My da has more eyes on the Harris clan than he has on me.”

“Aren’t you insulted?” Wendy asks, brows knit together.

“It’s the name of the game, lass. Hell, Caleb’s spies are probably kin with our spies.” I adjust my breasts by lifting them in my dress, and I fluff my hair, not looking his way, and then I do.

“He’s got it for you, Laney.” Brandy says.

I lean over and whisper to her, loud enough that the other girls can hear. “Get a load of this.”

I walk back to the table, and the girls’ jaws are on the floor.

“I swear to God I thought you were going to take him out back and fuck him.” Brandy says quickly, in disbelief of what just went down.

“Were you?” Wendy asks. “Were you going to fuck him?”

I scrunch my face. “Not for twice my income.”

“God, I thought you were going to take him right there at the bar, with the bartender watching.” Laurie adds. “And I’m not the only one.”

“Yeah.” Janice interjects. “Every set of eyes in this place were watching you, and likely thinking the same thing.”

“Well, I had no intention of doing that. The truth is, the guy is truly an asshole, just like I thought. Cocky bastard.”

“Why is he cocky?” Brandy asks, and here it comes, her need to get all the juicy details.

“Because he thinks he’s got me figured out, but he doesn’t. I was just fucking with him. It pissed him off, but it was truly entertaining for me.”

Brandy smiles wide, slowly placing her fisted hand under her chin, completely enthralled. “What did he say?”

“Apparently his da wants us to get married. Big fucking shocker there.”

All six eyes are on me, and they open wide.

I shake my head quickly. “Duh. It’s the oldest trick in the book, you guys. The two proteges of billion-dollar businesses marry and join forces? Come on. Tell me you weren’t thinking the same thing.” I lift a finger. “Oh, but, that’s not what Dougall Harris has in mind, that snake. He wants to take over the business. He’s into all those acquisitions.”

“But, don’t you do acquisitions, too?” Janice asks.

“Yes, but we acquire businesses that are doomed, rebuild them, and sell them off to build our equity. Like what Edward, or Richard Gere’s character, did for a living, in ‘Pretty Woman’.”

“And Harris Investments doesn’t do that?” Wendy checks.

“No, they do a hostile takeover, and use the money that suckers invest in their company, to create more equity, essentially buying them out. Now, they’re not doing that with their latest kill with the Ford brothers.”

Wendy gasps. “I heard about that! So, they’re not trying to take over the airport or Crystal Land Developments?”

“No, the Fords are investing with them, not the other way around.” I clarify. “I imagine it’s because of the huge skyscraper project and the airline deal with the other asshole Ford clan. They’re going to make too much money and they have to put their big boy pants on to help deal with that.”

“So, he wants to marry you?” Wendy snorts. “That’s novel.”

“He doesn’t want to marry me. He just wants to fuck me. It’s his da that wants us to get married.”

“Has your dad ever suggested such a ridiculous thing?” Janice asks with an unimpressed growl, as she sips her wine.

“Of course.” I shrug. “But da knows that I have no intention of ever getting married, despite his incessant need to have more McAdams babies.”

“Well, isn’t that the idea? I mean, how is the company legacy going to be carried forward?” Brandy states.

“Yeah, I mean, even if you squirted out a couple of McAdams slash Harris brats, it doesn’t mean that you have to raise them. Hell, if your dad rents fucking spies, I’m sure he can chip in for a nanny.” Janice adds.

I shudder. “God, the thought of squeezing out a kid.”

“It’s awful.” Brandy makes an expression like she just ate a lemon. “Blood, guts, the whole deal. Plus, you get fat and get stretch marks. And you never get to sleep again, like, ever.” Wendy volunteers.

“How would you know?” I ask, not buying it.

“My friend had a baby. She said it’s the worst experience ever. She said she’d rather get an abscessed tooth pulled without pain killers.”

I decide it’s time to change the subject, as I lift a hand. “Okay, I think we’re getting a little bit ahead of ourselves here.” As I say this, I watch Caleb, still licking his wounds at the bar. The bartender has freshened his beer and now he’s making a call. I figured he would leave, but I guess he’s not finished with me yet. It’s okay. I can handle him and his adolescent hard-on. I’m not about to back down from a billionaire mogul, even if he is the most gorgeous man alive. He does nothing for me. At least, that’s what I try to tell myself. I don’t let on to my girlfriends that my heart really was pounding fast when I was that close to him. His scent, his big, blue eyes, his accent that matches mine, and the attitude that does, too.

Truth is, I have no idea if he had a hard-on or not, but he had that look in his eyes like he did. Even though, judging by the magazine articles that I’ve seen him in, it’s a common look for him. Maybe he always has an erection. He probably fucks around enough. I’ll give him this: he’s good at discretion. I have yet to see an article about him dating a celeb or a supermodel, which is usually the type that rich bitches like him go after.

“Okay, why do we keep staring at him?” Wendy says.

“I'm not staring at him.” I lie. “I already said my piece.”

“Come on. You're telling me not one iota of estrogen in your body was talking to you as you were over there?” Janice queries.

“Not one iota.” I lie.

“God, you must be one hell of an actress then.” Wendy says. “I swear I was just about to bet Janice that you were going to take him out back.”

“Well, in that case, I'm glad that you didn't waste your money. Because I would sooner sleep with one of you guys than sleep with him.”

“You're telling me you wouldn't even just use him? Not even for a one-night stand? You've done that once or twice, don't lie.” Brandy reminds.

“Oh my God! Who with?” Janice gushes.

“Probably another handsome billionaire is my guess.” Wendy says. “That is, after all, the type that you meet on a daily basis, isn't it?” Janice adds.

I give her an eye roll, and then gesture with my chin towards Caleb. “Yes, and we all know how gallant those types are, don't we? Let me run out right now and you can grab me one.”

“Well, that's why you just use them for sex, and then move on.” Brandy suggests. “That's my new strategy.”

Wendy scoffs. “Well, Laney’s already warmed him up for you, why don't you go grab yourself a handful of Caleb?”

“I think my bed needs to cool down just a little bit longer before I go and do something stupid like that.”

I lift my beer, clinking it against Brandy’s. “Here here. I think that's the smartest thing anyone has said since we got to this dive.”

We start talking some shop talk and then some shoe talk, and then we discuss what our next girly excursion is going to be, since, evidently, Brandy plans on having plenty of those, now that she's divorced. I catch myself too many times staring over at Caleb, who is drowning his sorrows in beer from the look of it, and I start to think that maybe I should tell him to go and piss off, but I know he'll just say something snide, like ‘it's a free country’, and he's just sitting here having a beer, alone.

Brandy catches me looking at him once more. “He got under your skin, didn't he.”

“I just can't figure out why he's still here.” I half lie.

“Well, since plan A didn't work out so well, maybe that phone call he made earlier was Plan B, and he's just waiting it out.”

“Twenty bucks says he made himself a bootie call.” Wendy suggests.

Then we watch another male enter the bar, and recognition comes to my face, and to Brandy’s. “Okay, so, which Ford brother is that? I can’t keep track.” Brandy says.

“That’s Beckett.” I answer.

“I thought he was Chas.” Janice says, raising a brow.

“No, Chas is the one that’s fucking their attorney.” I inform.

“What a shit show.” Wendy observes. “I hope they aren’t cross-breeding or something.”

“I think that only happens when humans mate outside of their species.” Brandy teases.

Wendy shrugs. “They might as well.”

Janice adds. “Wade’s the only decent one out of them all.”

“Yeah, remember his last concert?” I interject. “That boy can sing.”

“And he’s got an ass like two scoops of butter pecan ice cream.” Janice volunteers. “That’s one billionaire I’d fuck all the way to next Tuesday.”

I guffaw. “Please. You would not.”

She raises her brows. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re drunk. And you haven’t been laid since that guy your dad tried to set you up with.”

“Oh yeah? Well, what about you, huh? What about the guy your dad’s trying to set you up with?” She sneers, good-naturedly, gesturing with her chin towards where Caleb Harris is still sitting, now with a comrade.

“I said his da is trying to set us up, not mine, stupid. Have another beer.” I chuckle.

Wendy looks over at the two men, huddled together, like they’re discussing serious business plans. “Look at them. Do you think Caleb is telling Beckett how you put him in his place, or do you think that he’s making up a story, like he turned you down.”

“Probably the latter.” I snort.

“I bet he has to pay women to fuck him.” Janice says.

“I wouldn’t go that far. He is one of the most eligible bachelors according to all the magazines.”

“Then how come nobody is coming up to him?” Wendy points out.

“Because they saw Laney here tearing him a new one earlier, and they’re scared.” Laurie laughs. “They likely think that he’s yours, if they know either of you at all.”

“Yeah, you have to admit, it is a good match.” Janice says.

“Careful.” I warn, good-naturedly. “I could easily introduce you to him.”

“It's like I've told you a thousand times, it doesn't matter how much money a person makes, if you're a jerk you're a jerk, period.”

Brandy pipes up. “Yeah, but you have to admit, it makes it a lot easier on a relationship when you're both making good money. I mean, look what happened to me.”

“If you want my opinion, Kurt gave it an honest try.” Laurie bargains. “Better than most, anyway.”

“Of course, you would say that.” I say, matter of factly. “You always had a thing for him.”

Brandy's gaze darts to Laurie. Her expression is a combination of shock and insult. I raise my hand. “I’m just joking.”

Laurie smiles. I’m not joking, I just don’t want Brandy to rip her eyeballs out in public is all. I look over at Caleb and Beckett. Caleb looks at me for a moment. He’s half toasted. Eyes glazing over, delayed movements. Kind of like me. I’ve had more than my fair share. But Brandy keeps ordering rounds and it’s her night, so I oblige. She’s done the same for me many times. And then they get into what looks like a deep conversation, making me wish I could be a fly on the wall. I’d be a drunk fly on the wall, but a fly on the wall, nonetheless.

Suddenly, Beckett’s face turns to stone, and he stands up abruptly, and leaves. Like Caleb just said something to him that made his blood run cold.

…what’s unsettling is that Caleb looks completely unscathed, and the only way that I’ll ever find out what happened, is if I go talk to him again.

…is it worth it?