Pride and Pregnancy (A Devil's Dragons Motorcycle Club Romance) (70 page)

“The next time you show up here, or anywhere else that belongs to me, I’m calling security,” he said. “You’re fucking crazy, Jane. That’s what got you fired, not
her.
”

“Fine,” she sneered. “That’s just great, Preston. Because you know what? I’m calling the cops!” She rubbed her arm where he’d touched her, wincing like he’d pulled it out of place, though it was clear he hadn’t. “This is assault!”

“Leave,” he said before slamming the door right in her face and locking it from the inside. I heard her pound on it a few times before she finally gave up, letting out one last scream as the staccato beat of her heels descended the steps toward Mr. Fletcher’s car.

I looked up at Preston as he turned. The veins in his neck were bulging, as were his muscles. I could see the immense bulge of his biceps, especially under the short sleeves of the t-shirt he was wearing. It draped nicely around his waist, but even so, with his heavy breathing a teasing glimpse of his abs were visible. He was the picture of raw power, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

Slowly, his gaze shifted to meet mine. He asked, “Are you all right?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.” I looked toward the doors again. “I just feel bad for Mr. Fletcher…”

Preston laughed softly. It wasn’t a happy sound, but he did seem at least darkly amused. “Yeah. Me too.”

I watched as he left the front door, making his way toward one of the rooms I hadn’t explored yet. I followed him, watching as he sat down on a very expensive-looking sofa and put his face in his hands, snarling into them. It was a deep, primal sound.

“I take it you wanted me to get breakfast because of that,” I said softly, standing awkwardly in the archway. He nodded without looking up at me. “Was that the woman you were talking about in the car—the one who doesn’t respect your boundaries?”

“Or yours, apparently,” he muttered, running both hands through his hair as he leaned back against the cushions with a sigh. He shook his head. “I’m just glad it’s over, but it’s eight-fifteen and I already need a drink.”

I smiled uneasily. “Do you have a bar? I make a mean Bloody Mary.”

“Not here,” he told me. “This is a place of business, after all. It’s not like in the Sixties, when we did that kind of thing…” Preston hadn’t been alive in the Sixties, and yet he somehow seemed wistful. He waved his hand after a moment. “Coffee would do, if you wouldn’t mind.”

I set my clutch down on one of the armchairs near him. “Where’s the kitchen?” I asked.

“Just through here,” he answered, pointing at a door at the far side of the room. He relaxed while I went through it and entered one of the most glorious kitchens I’d ever seen.

Though it was keeping in style with the Italian countryside theme Preston had going on, it was a gourmet ensemble if I’d ever seen one. The stove looked state-of-the-art and the cabinets, though made of dark wood, all had transparent doors that let one see their contents without having to open them first. The fridge was massive, a French door model with a separate, pull-out freezer down below. Everything was gleaming steel against wood, except for the copper pot rack hanging above a kitchen island with a marble countertop.

I found the coffee machine easily enough. As expected, Preston had an expensive brew tucked away near the filters. The smell alone did more to wake me up than my own cup back at my apartment had, and I brewed enough for two before returning to the sitting room and offering a mug to my stepbrother.

“Look, Maddy, I know this probably looks bad,” he started, clearly still caught up on my arrival. “You weren’t supposed to see any of that. She wasn’t even supposed to be here.”

“Relax. It’s none of my business, and I’m not one to judge,” I replied, thinking back to a little short term office fling I’d had with one of the mail runners in my earlier days at ExecuSpace. “I’m just glad to have this opportunity…”

He smiled. “Well, it looks like your first official duty as my new personal assistant was to get me post-breakup coffee. How’s it feel?”

I laughed. “Patronizing,” I said, sitting down on the same armchair I’d set my clutch onto. Its deep, cocoa-colored leather upholstery was firm, yet soft enough to be comfortable, and the tufted back gave me more support than I’d thought it would. “Still, it’s good to have a job. I do have a question, though.”

Preston took a sip of his coffee. He winced, as if he’d never learned not to let a hot beverage cool. “What’s that?”

I blew on the surface of my own mug, my lips moving before the wiser half of my brain could stop me.

“Do you fuck all of your secretaries?”

Preston stared at me with an almost shocked look on his face, choking on his drink.

I felt my face flush and my stomach plummet, then fill with the wingbeats of a thousand butterflies as Preston laughed nervously and turned away.

Why the hell did I say that?

M
addy’s
first day as my new assistant became a lot more boring after Jane had finally stopped storming around the front lawn. Most of it was spent having her fill out all the appropriate paperwork and letting her look over Jane’s notes, most of which I’d managed to salvage after she’d torn through her desk like a demon in an effort to destroy as much company property as she could. Though I’d been dreading that moment for months, now that it had passed, I felt relieved. Maddy had been right. It was good to let go, especially before Jane was in a position to do anything worse.

“Are you concerned about what she said?” she asked me at lunch. I’d taken her to a bistro on the lake behind my property. “About the ‘assault,’ I mean?”

I shrugged. “Not really. Jane has anger issues, that’s true, but I doubt she’d go so far as to actually file a police report against me. And even if she did, she’s got no proof. I didn’t grab her that hard. And besides,” I added with a grin, “I have witnesses.”

“
A
witness, anyway,” Maddy said. “But that’s probably good enough.”

Although I put on an appearance of confidence, I certainly hoped we were right, the last thing I needed was that kind of publicity… Regardless of what was going to happen with Jane, by the end of the first day Maddy was already pretty comfortably settled in. Things almost felt… Normal.

Except that I couldn’t get Maddy’s words out of my head…

Do you fuck all of your secretaries?

Sure, it had been a joke. All in good fun… But it had my wheels moving in ways they shouldn’t have been moving.

I did my best to ignore it.

When weeks went by without hearing anything from Jane, both of us breathed a collective sigh of relief. I immediately forbade any more talk of her, fearful that invoking her name might make the demon return. I’d have to write up a rule somewhere that disallowed anyone from going into a bathroom with the lights off and saying “Jane Turner” three times in front of a mirror, but as it so happened, my attention was far more focused on Maddy.

I’d had every confidence in her that she’d turn out to be the perfect new personal assistant, and I’d been right. I’d just had no idea how right I would be. She was amazingly good at her job, meticulous and detail-oriented, always taking the initiative to organize and get things done. She’d memorized my particular way of doing things in practically no time at all, and by the end of our first month together, I couldn’t believe the stark contrast between her and Jane.

“I think I’m ready to pronounce you a permanent hire,” I teased her one day as she made me coffee. She’d finally figured out the French press, which was far more preferable than the automatic swill I got out of the machine.

She had smiled and looked at me through her lashes in that smug, know-it-all way I’d come to love. “Oh, please. I’ve been permanent since day one. At this stage, I don’t think you could live without me.”

“Too true,” I’d told her. But neither of us realized how much I’d meant it until a week later when she overheard me on the phone. At the time, I had no idea how that seemingly innocuous moment would change everything between us forever.

“
Y
es
, I realize that’s prime real estate. Yes, I know what’s there now, and I’m sure it can be done. I know my father wants this to go forward, but I’m just asking you, man to man… Do you
really
want to do this? What your asking crosses an ethical line. It may be, in fact, a bit… Extrajudicial.”

I stood on my bedroom balcony overlooking the distant lake. I could see the water gently rippling as a lazy breeze swept over it, just barely disturbing the otherwise placid surface. It was late and the sun was setting, but Mr. Verger wasn’t letting me off the phone without a fight. I watched the sky turn from orange to red, then a hazy purple as my high-strung client stammered on the other end of the line.

I sighed, hoping my Bluetooth earpiece didn’t pick it up. I had explained this at least a dozen times, but Harold wasn’t getting it. I understood why he’d gotten my father involved in this, I just didn’t want to be part of it. With the company in my hands during the windup to my father’s wedding, he’d dropped this entire sordid affair on my lap.

On the surface, it was simple. Harvey Enterprises has connections, able to bend the will of state and federal agencies that look into things like code violations. They condemn buildings all the time. In fact, nothing makes them happier than to slap a big yellow notice on a door that says ‘CONDEMNED’ on it. It’s like getting their dick sucked for them. They’d be more than happy to shut down the homeless shelter if the company threw money their way, and that’s exactly what Mr. Verger wanted me to do.

Mr. Verger had big plans for that space. He’d quietly bought up buildings on either side of the shelter, and once he owned the final piece of the puzzle, there’d be nothing stopping him from razing the entire block and putting up some gaudy condo tower in its place. Gentrification at work.

Sure, we would lose a rec center and the only homeless shelter within a twenty mile radius in the process, but Harold Verger had deep pockets—the kind that could not only pay off the code enforcement officials, but could go a long way in supporting Harvey Enterprises in all manner of future endeavors.

That was the rub. From what my father had told me, Mr. Verger had a very good shot at becoming a US Senator very soon. Money could buy you many things, but if you wanted real influence, you needed to know the right people. My father would very much like to know a senator. He’d very much like to have done favors for one, so that that senator might be amenable to returning those favors in his more prestigious future. And what my father wanted, my father got, even if that meant tearing down a perfectly good building to get it.

Only he wasn’t going to do it. He was going to make me do it. I wasn’t completely heartless, though. I’d first seen the job as a moral quandary. Homeless people already had it rough. Why make it rougher by eliminating one of the few safe spaces that they had?

I kept telling myself there were always more safe spaces, and there was plenty of land in the city. The non-profit organization keeping both the rec center and the shelter open could always open some new ones. It might take a year or two, but it would get done.

“Young man, I was a lawyer for twenty six years. Don’t lecture me on the law. I was under the impression you would take care of this without any questions being asked,” Mr. Verger said. “Your father made certain assurances.”

I could feel my temples throbbing. Though I hadn’t thought about her in weeks, I would almost have preferred a conversation with Jane to one with this guy.

“All right, Mr. Verger. I’ll get the ball rolling on Monday. We’ll have that homeless shelter knocked flat in three weeks or less. The recreation center might take a bit longer, but I’ll personally expedite the process. You have a nice weekend, all right?”

“You too, Mr. Harvey. Oh, and tell your father I say hello, will you? I’ve got a hankering to play some golf next week. Let him know I said so.”

I forced a smile into my tone. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

I could barely contain my excitement when Mr. Verger finally hung up. I couldn’t imagine that man as a senator, with the kind of power to make decisions that could affect all of America. He was incompetent, fidgety, uncertain, and a complete worry-wart. Then again, I couldn’t think of a senator who wasn’t completely ill-suited for the job in one way or another. I guessed there was always room for one more.

I turned around, taking my Bluetooth earpiece out and nearly running straight into Maddy. It wouldn’t have been the first time we collided, and I grinned at her as I shook my head.

“Maddy, we’ve got to stop meeting like this…”

“How could you?” she asked me, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked utterly horrified, and it took me a few seconds to realize she’d overheard the conversation I’d been having on the phone.

“Oh. You mean the shelter?”

She stared at me. “Of course I mean the shelter. And the recreation center! And oh God, what else is there?” Then she waved her hand and shut her eyes. “No. Don’t tell me.
Really.
If there’s more, I don’t want to know…”

“Oh, come on,” I said, moving past her and into my bedroom. “It’s urban renewal, nothing more. The condo development is going to bring in a lot more money for the city than a homeless shelter ever did, and it will reduce crime and vagrancy. Ten years from now, you won’t even recognize the city center. This is a win, Maddy. We should celebrate.”

I turned back to see if she was coming, but she hadn’t moved. I sighed, leaning against the wall. “Come on. I’ll take you anywhere you’d like. Do you like seafood? There’s this place over by the marina. It’s a bit of a drive, but the lobster is worth it.”

“I can’t even comprehend this right now,” she said, taking a seat on the edge of my bed. She shook her head at me, eyes pinched. “Urban renewal? Extrajudicial? You’re talking about a criminal conspiracy. Are you fucking serious right now? I know that part of the city. You’re going to help someone build a fancy pants condo development and knock down a
homeless shelter
and a rec center
for disadvantaged kids?!
Have you lost your mind, Preston? Never mind that—have you lost your
soul?
”

I watched the red-orange hues of the dying sun light up her face. They complemented her anger perfectly. She looked like a painting, the portrait of a woman on the edge of rage. It was stunning.

“Look,” I told her, “this is business. Mr. Verger has connections and my father still has the final say. You know how it is. It’s still about getting the biggest piece of the pie, no matter what you have to do. I don’t like it, but I’m not running the show here. Not yet. I have to do what I’m told just like everyone else. I mean, come on, Maddy. You should know this better than anyone. If I don’t do this, my father will.”

“Yeah,” she said. Her face had tightened. Anger had turned to disappointment. “I just didn’t think you would do something like this. You seemed different. You told me you were going to save the world…”

I shook my head. “I’m not a saint, Maddy.”

She shook hers too. “No, I know that. But this is something I would have expected from your father. Not from you.”

Now
that
struck a chord. I could feel the snarl in my voice before I’d even answered. “I’m nothing like my father. You know that.”

“Do I?” she asked me, looking up at me again. Her green eyes searched mine the same way they had back at the restaurant the day she’d lost her job. She was looking for an answer, but this time, she’d already asked the question. “Do I have any idea who you are at all?”

“Of course you do.” I sighed. “Look, Maddy, you’re blowing this way out of proportion. Non-profit groups get funding all the time. Charitable donations are tax-deductible, for fuck’s sakes. Sure, we’re going to shut the shelter and the rec center down, but once it’s gone they can build on some other parcel, maybe something with a view out past the suburbs.”

“You actually think the homeless give two shits about a view?” she snorted. “You can’t just shove them out of the city and forget about them. You sound like a true one-percenter.”

“One percent? You’re the one who cried for help. I didn’t hear you complaining when I wrote you that ten thousand dollar check,” I argued. “Or when I hired you. Or when I paid you, for that matter.”

“Don’t you
dare
throw that money in my face,” she hissed, launching up from the bed. “You gave me that money to help me out when I was nearly destitute. And the rest you paid me for good, honest work. I haven’t been your kept woman, Preston. I earned that money working for you!”

“Which is why you should do what I tell you now and get in the goddamn car!” I was seething. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like the way she was challenging me, like suddenly she knew more about business than I did, like she had any idea what it was like to be me, Preston Harvey, the son of a billionaire whose first and only love had ever been cold, hard cash.

And yet I did like it. In fact, I loved it. Maddy never looked more beautiful than when she was standing up for herself. She had a backbone stronger than most men I’d known in my lifetime, and when she had a mind to, she put up one hell of a fight.

But I couldn’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth now. There was too much momentum, too much frustration welling up inside me, rattling my bones. “You work for me, which means my decisions are your decisions. If I say ‘jump,’ you say, ‘how high?’ If I tell you that what I’m doing is the right goddamn thing for my company, then you shut up and accept that maybe the guy with the Harvard business degree knows what the fuck he’s talking about. If those are things that you can’t handle that, then…”

“Then what, Preston?” she asked me. Jane had always had a heat in her, a passion, and a deep, ugly anger too, but Maddy was different. Her flame was brighter, stronger than any I’d ever seen before. It danced higher, more beautifully than Jane’s ever had, and I was drawn to it like an unlucky moth gazing upon its flickering shape, mesmerized by how wild and effulgent she was. “Then you’ll fire me? You’ll send me back to my shitty apartment with some savings and hope I land on my feet? Maybe if I’m lucky, you’ll throw in an excellent job reference too, as long as I don’t make a scene like Jane did when I storm out.” Her lip curled in a defiant sneer. “Is that what you do to everyone who dares to tell you like it is, or just the women?”

I hated hearing that woman’s name leave her lips. It poisoned everything it touched, and the last thing I wanted to imagine was anything tarnishing Maddy’s sweet, soft, supple lips.

I stared at them, unable to look away. They were set into a firm line, one that meant she wasn’t going to back down. But I needed her to. I needed her to stop, because with every word she spoke, something hungry stirred inside of me.

“You love to flirt with poverty, don’t you?” I shot back, my muscles tense and vibrating beneath my skin. She was like a live wire sending currents through every part of my body, but I didn’t know of what. Was it anger? Disdain? Or was it something I couldn’t quite explain, something that seemed closer to lust than to fury?

“You had your own apartment, Maddy. Maybe you had to take a bus to work, but you had a job and a roof over your head. You act like your struggle makes you better than people like me, but you haven’t had to deal with half the shit that
really
poor people do. You get the self-righteousness with none of the suffering, and that gets you off, make you feel special so you can look down on an entire class of people. Grow up.”

She pursed her lips, and her eyes flared. “Is that what happened to you, Preston? You grew up to become your father—a man who would rather stuff more money in his pockets than think twice about the rest of the world trying to just get by out there? You are literally talking about destroying the only place the homeless in this city have to go! It’s
evil,
and if you don’t see it, then maybe you should ask yourself how long you’ve been staring into the abyss of wealth and business and politics, and whether or not it’s begun staring back into you.”

I closed the distance between us. “Maddy, if you don’t stop…” I lost the will to finish that sentence. I didn’t know what to say. I just kept staring at the woman who would become my sister and thinking how goddamn beautiful she was.

“Then what?” she asked me again. She didn’t move. Not an inch. I could feel blood rush through me, but it wasn’t going to my head. It was going far, far away from it, to places that would be bad for the both of us. “Tell me, Preston. What the hell are you going to do if I don’t stop calling you on your bullshit?”

She was searching me again. I could feel it. The way her eyes bored into mine prickled my skin. It seared my soul. She wanted the truth from me, a different kind of truth from the one I was used to telling. She wanted the kind of truth a man wasn’t likely to give, the kind that made him have to crack his ribs and bare his own heart for scrutiny. Was this how it was supposed to feel? Was this how being with a woman was supposed to be? Was it supposed to hurt like this, in a way that made every ounce of that pain worth it?

No wonder it had never worked with anyone else. If this was how it was supposed to be, and it sure as hell felt like it was, then Madison Hearst was the first woman in my entire life with whom things felt tragically, undeniably right.

I didn’t have an answer for Maddy. Not the way she wanted. Not with words and thoughts. Not with anything but a primal force that took me by surprise as much as it took her.

I grabbed my soon-to-be stepsister, one hand tangled in the sleek waves of her gorgeous brown hair, and I kissed her. God help me, I kissed her with passion and fury. And I loved it...