Billionaire With a Twist 2 Read online

  Billionaire With A Twist 2

  By L I L A M O N R O E

  Copyright © 2015 by Lila Monroe

  Billionaire With A Twist 2

  Cover Design: British Empire Designs

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including emailing, photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  ONE

  Paige and…Hunter Knox?

  My eyes had to be deceiving me. I wasn’t actually seeing my perfect big sister hanging on the arm of my client and sometimes make-out partner. I was seeing something much less upsetting, like a Mafia hit or an escaped saltwater crocodile on a bloodthirsty rampage.

  I blinked rapidly, but the scene refused to resolve into anything other than what it actually was: Hunter. On a date. With my sister.

  I will not cry in public, I repeated desperately to myself as I pressed my lips together and tried to laser burn through Hunter Knox with my eyes. I have no reason to cry in public, and therefore I will not cry in public, I will not, I will not, I will not!

  The onions in my spring salad were a little over-fresh, and that was the only reason my eyes were watering.

  I reached up to wipe them with my napkin, and Hunter, displaying the kind of fine timing that lost the Battle of Waterloo, chose that moment to meet my gaze.

  His eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open slightly. He looked as surprised to see me as I had been to see him. But surely he would have known to expect me at a family dinner with his new girlfriend; why was he bothering to put on a show? Did he think I could be fooled that easily?

  Did he think I wouldn’t realize that he had been dating my sister the whole time he had been making out with me? And then something else hit me.

  I can never tell Paige.

  Hunter strode over, never taking his eyes off me, practically pulling Paige in his wake like a tugboat. “Ally! I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Yeah, I bet,” I almost growled.

  A response like that normally would have won me a full-on glower from my mother, complete with a hissed ‘Allison Brierly Beignet Bartlett, that is not the way a lady comports herself;’ fortunately for me, my mom was in full match-maker mode, and wouldn’t have noticed if little green men fell out of the sky and demanded we worship them. So my sarcasm went sailing right over her head like it was filled with helium.

  “Oh, I can barely ever manage to drag Allison away from her dreadful work,” my mother said, sparing me barely a half-second of disappointment before turning the sun of her approval back to Paige, batteries on full. “Not like my Paige, what a good girl! Always RSVPs, so considerate, and what an eye for detail! Oh, any man would be lucky to have such a wife, someone who understands the importance of little things, like having dinner and a martini ready when a man comes home from a demanding day of work—”

  My mom chattered on in a state of rapturous low-level misogyny, while Paige and Hunter made matching pained-but-polite faces at her ability to mentally time travel back into the 1950s. I bet they’d be the kind of couple that matched everything. Matching towels. Matching golf bags. Matching T-shirts with cutesy sayings like—

  I think I’m going to be sick.

  “I’m going to the restroom,” I announced. “If the waiter gets back before I do, somebody order me a white zin. And have them leave the bottle.”

  “We’re having lamb, dear, with that a more appropriate order would be—”

  “Actually, Ally, I have to go over some numbers with you and make a phone call to my CFO,” Hunter interrupted apologetically, his puppy dog eyes lowered in deference to my mother. He didn’t need to have bothered—having a Y chromosome absolved you of pretty much anything in my mother’s book. “Mrs. Bartlett, Paige, if you’ll excuse us—”

  Great, now I didn’t even get a full private moment to compose myself.

  “Oh, but couldn’t it wait until after the dinner?” my mother pleaded, already folding like wet tissue paper in the face of an assertive man. “All this talk of business, so terrible for the digestion…”

  “Ah, actually…” he leaned over and whispered something in my mother’s ear. She beamed, and I caught just enough of his whisper to gather that he was pretending to want my input on a surprise present for Paige.

  I deeply pondered how much it would hurt my career if I walked up to him and kicked him in the balls right at that moment.

  I mean, I’d never get hired again, but it just might be worth it.

  “Oh, I suppose we can spare you for a few minutes then!” My mother beamed up at Hunter like he was the Second Coming of Christ, and then wagged a finger in my direction. “Don’t you go keeping him too long, Allison; remember, he’s your sister’s!”

  “How could I forget?” I said with a smile so brittle you could have put peanuts in it and sold it at a confectionary store. I didn’t add, You’ve all but written her name on him in Sharpie marker.

  “If you’ll follow me, Ally…” Hunter’s voice was smooth, but his eyes stayed wide, and something in them begged me to follow without any fuss.

  I stomped resentfully after him as he led the way to the restaurant entrance, my stomach churning with anger, betrayal, and something suspiciously like yearning—but I’d deny it in a court of law.

  Hunter stopped me once we were out of hearing range. His mouth worked for a moment as if he couldn’t find the words, and then he said hurriedly: “I met Paige out in the lobby for the first time—I swear I didn’t realize until then it was supposed to be a date. Your mom made it sound like she was just inviting me to meet some members of the historical society.”

  Relief washed through me sweet as spring wine, until I remembered that I had no right to feel it. “Oh.” I still felt dizzy, off-balance, like I’d been thrown from a horse. I wanted to grab onto him for support. Onto those strong, firm arms… “I see.”

  But could I really trust this answer? Had he just been lying to me this whole time, was this just another lie?

  “Good,” he said gruffly. “I’m glad that’s been cleared up.”

  “Crystal clear.”

  He leaned in a little closer. “Are you still…angry, with me?”

  I looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “Why would I be?”

  “No reason.”

  I tried to pretend I didn’t hear the disappointment in his tone. I probably didn’t hear it. I was probably deluding myself. And even if I wasn’t, it didn’t matter, because even if that disappointment was there, which it wasn’t, I couldn’t allow myself to hear it. Couldn’t allow myself to get sucked right back into an infatuation that could never lead anywhere.

  “So you’re not angry?” His voice was disbelieving.

  “Of course not,” I lied through my teeth.

  “Good,” he said, relieved. A slight hesitation, then: “Because…well, your sister is a remarkable young lady.”

  The ground receded from under my feet at a remarkable place. “Ah.”

  “And I would potentially, despite the false pretenses your mom got me here under, be interested in seeing her. Potentially.”

  “Ah.” My pulse pounded in my
ears, but my face was frozen in a panicked smile as my brain cycled through a series of vivid memories of Hunter and me together, failing to reconcile the connection I knew we’d both felt with the sister-chasing, cold-hearted swine standing nonchalantly before me.

  “If that’s not a problem.”

  “A problem.” I could hear my words coming from far away. They were coming out remarkably calm and well-formed, as if they were leaving the lips of someone who wasn’t trapped at the center of a spinning world. “Why would that be a problem?”

  “It wouldn’t!” he said quickly. “After all, you made it clear that nothing was going to happen between us. That you’re not interested. That’s still the case?”

  I kept my face resolutely still. “Nothing’s changed, Hunter. Nothing at all.”

  “Alright. But you still seem…” He reached out towards my arm, then thought better of it, letting his hand hang above my bicep like an unresolved promise. Like a temptation, like the fruit of Tantalus, hanging over his head.

  God, I wanted him to touch my arm.

  “…kind of angry,” he finished. He shuffled his feet. “Is it Paige? That’s she’s your sister, is that too—” He waved his arms, unable to quite come up with an adjective that Paige might be too much of.

  Paige was always the exact right amount of everything, pretty and sweet and demure. No wonder everyone preferred her to her wilder young sister. To me.

  A lot of the time, I preferred her to me.

  “Would you rather I didn’t date your sister?”

  What would he do if I said yes? Would he just keep dating her, secure in the knowledge of just how much I wanted him? Or would he dump her, ruining her temporary happiness and bringing the sourness back into Mom’s voice, the disapproval back into her eyes, just so…what? We could pine for each other from afar?

  The truth was useless to me. To him. To both of us.

  So I lied.

  “Of course I don’t mind you dating Paige,” I said, with a smile faker than a Rolex sold on a street corner. “I was surprised, is all. You can date her if you want. Knock yourself out. I fully approve.”

  And with that I spun on my heel and strode back toward the dining room, head high, toward what would no doubt be a long, cozy dinner in my own personal hell.

  #

  “I wouldn’t want to disparage the chef, but his braised lamb with asparagus simply isn’t a patch on what Paige can do with the same ingredients—”

  I decided to make an attempt to de-board the Paige Is Perfect in Every Way Train. “Oh hey, those dinner rolls look delicious, Mom, could you pass them?”

  “I’m closer,” Hunter said, “allow me.”

  Before I could protest that I could reach them myself, he swung the bread rolls around so quickly that I had to reach out and grab them or get smacked in the face. Or worse, appear rude in front of my mom. My fingers accidentally brushed against his and I felt a frisson of electricity dance across my skin, fierce and dangerous.

  I snatched my hand away before it could yank Hunter across the table for me to ravish him on top of the asparagus.

  I tried to casually look around to see if any of my family members had noticed me spazzing out. Paige’s face was just a little too carefully composed; shit, what if she realized I had feelings for Hunter? I couldn’t ruin this for her.

  Thankfully, my mom lost all peripheral vision when she had a potential marriage in her sights, and went sailing gleefully on full steam ahead: “And Paige is most accomplished, have you seen her watercolors? Perhaps she might paint a tasteful landscape for your manor—”

  Paige rolled her eyes behind Mom’s head at an angle only I could see, her face suggesting that she would much rather be doing a cubist study of a slaughterhouse than anything like a tasteful landscape. I shot her a sympathetic smile, and she slung one back at me while Mom chattered on, oblivious to communiqués the two allied powers were sending each other.

  It was impossible to be mad at Paige. Someday, scientists might isolate the exact chemical formula of Paige’s you-can’t-be-mad-at-me-ium, but for now, I would have to settle for being absolutely furious at Hunter.

  Maybe it wasn’t fair to him, but hey, who said life was fair?

  “And the historical society would simply be lost without her organizational skills—”

  “Must be a family trait,” Hunter jumped in smoothly. “Ally has made the library a joy to behold with her re-filing of all those dry old documents; I’m seriously considering hiring her as a clerk.”

  “You couldn’t afford me,” I snapped before realizing that I was supposed to be acting like I wasn’t angry. Because I had no reason to be angry. I wasn’t angry! Or at least I was definitely going to not be angry sometime soon.

  I could see my mother’s eyes narrowing, her selective blindness slowly fading away as she sensed blood in the water of the Ally-behaving-inappropriately kind.

  Thankfully, I have a big sister to save me.

  “I have to visit the ladies’ room,” Paige announced. “Ally, will you come with me?”

  #

  “Look at this fucking bathroom,” I said, slapping my purse down on the green marble counter. “Who the fuck does it think it’s fooling?”

  Paige raised an amused eyebrow. “The bathroom. Really.”

  “Really!” I insisted. “It’s all gleaming and pristine and shit like it isn’t fifteen minutes from one of the biggest hotspots of homelessness in the city. Damn lying bathroom.”

  Paige very kindly lowered her eyebrow and didn’t say a single word about projection as she fixed her make-up in the mirror. She just reached over and patted my hand with her free one and said, “I’m really sorry about Mom. She doesn’t mean to ignore you like this.”

  “Nah, it just comes naturally to her.” I eyed my reflection morosely. My lipstick was starting to smear. I should fix it. On second thought, why bother? No one would care.

  “She’s…” Paige hesitated. It was difficult for someone as nice and averse to lying as Paige to form a full sentence about Mom sometimes. “I think she’s just so nervous. She looks at Hunter like this great catch, and she’s overdoing it trying to snag him. Being rude to you, and overly critical…you don’t deserve it.” Her hand found mine and squeezed it. “Not that you ever do.”

  My eyes were suspiciously wet. “And it’s not your fault, Paigey.”

  I squeezed her hand back.

  She smiled at me in the mirror, relief making her look even prettier. She relaxed slightly, pulling out her mascara to touch up her eyes. “I’m not the biggest fan of these fix-ups either. How am I supposed to find out if I even like the guy if she’s too busy selling me like I’m a side of bacon?” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Still, this one is cute!”

  “Sure. I guess.” I sounded about as convincing as a ten-year-old in a liquor store with a fake I.D.

  “Did you get a load of those eyes? And damn but he is lucky we’re in a red state carrying around those guns!” She snickered. “Those are some firearms I wouldn’t mind getting up close and personal with!”

  She couldn’t know how she was hurting me. She never would have said those things otherwise. I clung to this knowledge even as I clung to the countertop, my knuckles turning white. I was fine. Fine. Totally fine.

  I was not going to ruin Paige’s happiness by doing something stupid, like telling her about Hunter and I (what Hunter and me? There was no Hunter and me) or crying.

  Not that crying was particularly on my mind. That was just an example. I wasn’t thinking about crying. Not even a little bit.

  “But won’t it be weird working for him if he’s dating your sister?” she asked, her forehead creased in concern, her eyes wide. “I don’t want to mess up your big shot at a promotion.”

  It will be extremely weird! I wanted to shout. It will be weirder than the weirdest thing from the weirdest episode of Ripley’s Believe It or Not!

  But I didn’t.

  “I can handle it,” I said instead.
“There’s no conflict.” The lie burned.

  “Well, if you’re sure it’s okay…”

  No, it’s not okay! It’s the exact opposite of okay!

  “Couldn’t be more okay,” I assured her. “I mean, as long as you don’t feel like you have to endure his bad jokes just to help me out.” I tried to smile.

  “After my last two boyfriends, any sense of humor at all is going to be a blessing,” Paige said with a grin. She hugged me. “I have the best sister ever!”

  Yep, I was a damn fine sister. If you ignored the part where I lied blatantly to the one person who had always looked out for me. But it was for her own good, her own happiness. And probably mine, too. Right? In the long run? Totally. For sure.

  I followed Paige back to our table, a fake smile on my face, lead in my stomach, and trepidation in my heart for the amount of match-making and flirting I was going to have to witness before we even got to dessert. And all with the knowledge that I could have stopped it, if I’d said one word to either Paige or Hunter.

  I was my own worst enemy, and I had no idea how to call a ceasefire.

  TWO

  I pressed down harder on the gas pedal, and savored the rush of the wind through my hair. Barely saw the kudzu-covered vines rush past in a blur of green, or the occasional boulders jutting up through the earth. I was out on the back roads, lost in the rolling hills and barren fields, and I didn’t care to be found.

  I wanted to lose myself in the rush, in the speed, in the rolling landscape, but I couldn’t escape the pictures running through my head. Pictures of Hunter and Paige, laughing and talking and smiling…together.

  Together…I could learn to hate that damn word.

  I wasn’t driving anywhere in particular, just driving. Trying to get away from those pictures, those pictures that twisted up my insides with how sad they made me, because two people I cared about were happy, so shouldn’t I be happy? But I couldn’t be. I couldn’t make myself be. And the pictures caught up with me no matter how hard I pressed the gas pedal.