Deacon: A BWWM Billionaire Romance (25 page)

“What are the terms?”

“Your business sense is valuable. But I still don't approve of your personal dealings.”

Kiara. She was talking about Kiara. I nearly choked out a laugh. “You want me to break up with my girlfriend to hand me a billion dollar company. That's nonsense.”

“That's not what I want.” Her crystal eyes sharpened to diamonds. “You can be with whoever you feel like. Be with a man, for all I care. But if you want control of the company, you will not tarnish the Stone name by marrying below it.”

My mirth faded. “What are you saying?”

“I'll announce your takeover right now. I'll write it into my will. All so long as you promise not to marry.”

“Marry Kiara?”

“Anyone.”

A thick block formed quickly in my throat, but I managed to throw her a line. “Even one of your handpicked high-class ditzes?”

“We can talk about revising the terms if your situation improves,” she said. “I'm not dying quite yet, after all.”

She couldn't stop me from marrying – that violated almost every human rights treaty. But placing a conditional status in her will for the shares? With another son in the picture, that’d be very easy.

I could wait her out, wait to marry till the shares passed to me. But she was a spry old thing, and flexible. It’d be decades before the will mattered.

“So I stay single officially?” I said. “That's all you want.”

“It's hardly my preferred outcome, but I'll take what I can.” She smiled. “And as for you, you'll still have the company. That's all
you've
wanted right?”

It had been once. And even now, it wouldn't keep me and Kiara apart.

But it kept her from being mine as completely as I needed.

The sunlight fell cold on me, and even the coffee felt chill. I had no idea what Kiara would make of it? She was no ordinary girl, but this was far from an ordinary request.

But before that was the bigger question. The one that I still couldn't answer:

What did I make of it?

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Kiara

“You're scum,” the lawyer yelled at me. “You don’t deserve to walk free>’

“What do you know about scum?” I muttered.

My improv scene partner paced around my chair, glowering down like I was a pedophile on deposition. What exactly was I? My brain was too muddled to keep track. Spending the whole week thinking about Deacon had worn me down.

He was off thinking about our future.

Was it our future anymore, or just his?

“I'm actually also a professor of biology at Rice,” the lawyer said. “Specializing in pond scum. Of which, you are the worst.”

There might have been some laughs. I barely heard. The lawyer was waiting for me. I struggled for something.

“Prove it,” I said.

“I'm not on trial here,” he said.

“Why not?” Words suddenly found me. “You never made a bad decision in your life?”

“Hmm, I guess I pay too much for car insurance.”

“You never got too close to the wrong people?”

“Every Saturday night, sweetheart.”

The crowd made noises.This was supposed to be building to something, but my brain sat blank.

“Come on,” the lawyer said. “I've admitted to some stuff. Why don't you just admit to what you did, too?”

“I did nothing,” I blurted out.

That was the problem. I shouldn't have sat silently while Deacon thought through his future with and without me. I should have acted not waited for a reaction. Not just stayed silent when he said he’d be away the whole week on business.

“Uh, nothing at all?” the lawyer asked.

I glared up. He was giving me a concerned look. I shouldn't have come today.

“I gave up my freedom,” I said softly. “And it bit me in the ass.”

“So confess. Do your time and you’ll be free again.”

Freedom. Yeah I could have it. My resume was ironclad. I had a job title I couldn't dream about six months ago. And I'd seen more of the world, enough to know all that I was missing out on. I could go anywhere and do anything, almost.

But I didn't want to. The thought of it all ending just made me want to explode.

That was it.

“Ok,” I said to the fake lawyer. “I'm not going to tell you what I did. But I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. See I came in here prepared for if things went wrong.”

I gripped a fake detonator in my hands. “Dead woman's switch,” I said. “You're not escaping the fallout from this mess. I was innocent, but I sure won't be for long. Any last words?”

“Let's be reasonable, here,” he said staying me with a hand.

Maybe he wanted this to go on a bit longer. We still had time. Too bad.

“Ooh, those are the wrong words to say to a mad woman,” I said, and mashed down my fake thumb.

I threw myself off my seat, and my partner sighed and toppled over. We rose to scattered applause. I avoided him as we got off stage.

At least it was over. Now time to go contemplate a real life version.

“Interesting conclusion,” Antoine said shifting over and adjusting his jeans as I sat down. “Not very funny, but you really drew on some interesting stuff there. I wonder where it all came from.”

“Creativity is very mysterious.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

He knew everything. I'd been more open with him and Mira since moving in with Deacon since we had much less time together. They knew the details of the past week.

Somehow Mira was taking all the wrong lessons from my mess, as if I’d chosen it instead of fallen into it. She was out tonight seeing the guy her parents wanted to set her up with, which hardly helped my mood.

But Antoine was a steady shoulder. Generally.

“Did he drop another bomb on you?” he said. “Is that what you passed on to us up there?”

“I can handle bombs,” I said. “My dad put me through so much worse. The silence is what's suffocating.”

“Silence? You said you two talked yesterday.”

I dipped my voice as the next group started. “Yeah, but it was all business.”

“He didn't say he loved you?”

“Well, he did, but it was so distant.”

“He
was
distant. Isn't he in Qatar?”

Antoine cocked an eyebrow at me. How could I make him see? I knew Deacon's voice. I knew what his love sounded like. How it felt like. Heck, it wasn't like I'd asked him for anything but that.

Sure, his mother’s deal had been painful to hear. What had I done to that old bat to make her hate me so much?

But I hadn't pressed Deacon to turn her down. He'd fought for Stone Holdings his whole life. He deserved it.

Deacon's eyes had been flat a slate though. He was the one who couldn't abide the agreement. Being told he could never possess me completely? It went against his very essence.

It was one thing when his mother had used me as an excuse to keep him from buying a new company. But now she was making him choose between me and the company he already possessed. It was easy to let it go when he thought he’d lost it, but now it dangled within reach.

Maybe he was working hard on a way to outmaneuver her. Maybe that's what his silence was covering up.

Or maybe he'd just arrived at a more simple solution. There were plenty of women his mother would accept. And after all, we’d only been together three months.

It almost made me want to choke out a laugh. I wasn't the one standing in the way of us anymore. I might even be the one holding us together. But it was getting hard with his voice so diminished, with him drifting away with each day.

Marriage didn't even matter to me. We could still be together in every way that counted. Even if not officially or religiously. I didn't believe in that stuff, right?

No, but I had believed in Deacon. I had believed we belonged to each other.

“I don't know how much longer I can handle it,” I said softly.

Antoine rolled his eyes. “You waited six years for your mom to come around. Give the love of your life more than six days. In fact, give him six days for a start. I don't recall it having been that.”

“It's all I've been able to think about,” I said. “That was never the case with my mom. And she still isn't completely around. Not even with my dad dead.”

“Isn't it obvious why? You love him more than you do her.”

I shrugged. “But he can leave. She can't.”

Antoine wiggled over, his knees sharp into my thighs. “For a church girl, you don't have a lot of faith.”

“You think maybe my church girl experience had a bit to do with that?”

“I'm not saying you didn't go through a lot, but you're not alone, you know.” He took a deep breath. “My mom called me the other day, after that supreme court ruling that said I can finally get married.”

I hadn't heard this. For a moment, my worries evaporated. “Really? She wants to be close again?”

“Hell, no!” People glared at him, and he shrank to a scratching whisper. “She said that now my sin fit right into a nation full of sinners.”

“Amazing.”

“No, the amazing part was that she didn't hang up right away. She's usually too ashamed to hear my response, but this time it was like she wanted to start a dialog.”

“What'd you guys talk about?”

“Nothing. I hung up on her.”

I rubbed my temples. “Antoine, my head hurts.”

“Ok, I'm not saying things went perfect, but she's coming around. One day, she might wait a couple lines before she starts insulting me, which is about where we were before I came out.”

“So what? I should just stand by and keep letting Deacon agonize over whether he loves his company more than me?”

“Love is just a type of faith – a faith that you won't be hurt. You shouldn't get ready to toss it out after a few dim days.”

I rejected the idea a dozen times on my drive home. Antoine was wrong, or at best, just trying to ease my pain. But the advice kept bubbling back up. Why was I in such a rush to run away?

It wasn’t like breaking away would hurt any less if it happened sooner.

I sighed. Fine he could have his week, but I was still going to go to my apartment. Thank god Mira still had me paying for it. Well, for a little longer at least, until she betrayed everything I had done for her, too.

Three months, I'd helped her. She should be on her feet, but nope, she was bowing to her parents' wishes too. Seemed like I was the only one missing out on a hot trend.

Well, at least Snowflake was still there – what with all my travel. He wasn't so hard to catch anymore. There were no grand ambitions for him that got in the way of our relationship. I just wanted to curl up in my room with him rumbling on my stomach, like I had last night.

Conversation murmured inside the apartment as I unlocked the door. A man's deep voice leaked through. Great, had she brought her arranged date home? I didn't want to meet the guy she had settled for.

I walked in though, and found that the guy inside was far easier on the eyes than expected. Far more familiar, too.

“Hey darlin',” Deacon said.

He had on a power suit , minus the jacket. Slicked hair, red tie, black pants. He sat facing Mira on the far end of the couch. Snowflake lay curled up at his feet, already respecting his power in a way he never did mine.

“What are you doing here?” I said.

“Talking to your lovely friend.”

Mira blushed and swatted. “You're really raising expectations for my date tonight,” she said.

I didn't have time to deal with that. “I mean why did you come here?”

“Well, you weren't home. Doorman said he hadn't seen you in a day. Figured there was only one other place you'd go.”

“I was in improv.”

“Guess I just got lucky then.”

“How was improv?” Mira asked. “I guess I could have gone after all.”

“No, no. Just focus on that arranged marriage of yours.”

Mira's face flared with indignation, but Deacon answered first. “Come on. The guy doesn't seem half bad from what your friend says.”

“He's not. He's really sweet actually.” Mira crossed her arms.

“What does it matter? She was pressed into the relationship. She succumbed.”

“I...did not. Completely.” Mira sighed and shot out of the couch past me. “Whatever, ok, maybe I did. But my parents might have been right on this. He's pretty cool.”

“If I recall,” Deacon said. “You had to be pressed into our first real date, too.”

“And look where that got us.”

The smile left Deacon's lips.

“Real date?” Mira asked.

No one knew about Deacon and me at the airport. Before this week, sharing that wouldn't be a huge embarrassment, but I didn't want it out now.

“Just focus on your night.”

I went and sat where Mira had been.