Beauty and the Billionaire (BILLIONAIRE BOYS CLUB NOVEL) (20 page)

And here he’d thought he’d make her happy by making her a bestseller. But she hadn’t even brought it up. Perhaps it meant nothing to her. He’d have to think of another way to make her melt.

It seemed he existed solely for Gretchen’s teasing smiles.

***

A
few days later

“We could have had this catered,” Hunter said, reaching to steal a piece of bruschetta from the hors d’oeuvres table.

She smacked his hand and arranged the remaining appetizers to hide the fact that he’d stolen one. “How many times do I have to tell you? I like cooking. Besides, this is only ten additional people. I can handle that.”

Tonight was the night of the small dinner party that she’d wheedled out of Hunter. It was a mixer of close friends and her editor and agent. At first, she’d wanted to do it to show the house off a little and get her editor excited about the project.

Now she was hoping that with a few bottles of wine in her editor, she’d be able to get an extension.

She’d made a feast for their guests—delicate pastries, savory appetizers, and a light salad. For the main course, she’d gone with an easy favorite—pasta—and had made a few different things for dessert to show off her skills. The entire day had been spent in kitchen-bliss, as she’d worked on one dish after another.

Why she couldn’t transfer some of that happy peace to her writing, she didn’t know. She hadn’t worked on her manuscript notes ever since she’d lost her file. Part of her kept hoping that she’d hear that they were able to recover the data.

Part of her was just really, really mentally done with the entire thing.

So she’d taken a few days off. She’d baked delicious treats for the cleaning staff, who were delighted at her efforts. She’d reorganized the kitchen and tested out new recipes. She’d made scrumptious dinners for Hunter and even baked cookies for Eldon. She didn’t write a lick. When she wasn’t puttering in the kitchen, she spent her time with Hunter, watching movies in his personal screening room, working out together, or learning the basics of how to cultivate roses.

This week, she was happier than she’d been in a long time. She should have been miserable, but being around Hunter soothed that part of her. He made it okay.

And he didn’t mind that she might have to spend a few more weeks at his house.

It didn’t fix the issue with her apartment, of course. Audrey had called her and had forwarded the rent money to her account so her check would clear, but next month’s rent was coming up fast and she still had no plans. Nor had the check for the new project arrived.

She was fucked. And she didn’t care. Which was weird.

Tonight’s party would either make things worse or better she thought as she surveyed the dining room. Buchanan Manor had a formal dining room with dual crystal chandeliers, wood paneling, and pastoral paintings that she was pretty sure cost a small fortune. It boasted a long, narrow table that could seat twenty and looked like something out of an old-fashioned movie. Soft classical music was piped in through the house’s speaker system. Fresh roses from Hunter’s greenhouse adorned the table.

Her guests would be impressed.

Hunter seemed on edge. He was dressed in a crisp designer suit with a pinstriped navy tie and navy shirt. He looked like a dark god, right down to his hair that fell rakishly over his forehead.

Gretchen set out the appetizers and eyed the wine selection. “What time did we ask everyone to get here?”

Hunter shrugged. “It shouldn’t matter. It’s just a gathering of friends.” The words sounded curiously flat.

“Poor baby. Are you nervous?” Gretchen moved to his side and pretended to straighten his tie, all to give herself an excuse to put her hands on him. “You shouldn’t be. You look amazing.”

His gaze smoldered as he glanced at her. “You’re the one no one will be able to take their eyes off of.”

“Flatterer.” She grinned and adjusted one of the tight sleeves of her black cocktail dress. She’d ordered it online at Hunter’s insistence and had it overnighted. The dress was a cute, low-cut number designed to show off her curves. The body of the dress was form fitting, and the skirt tightening at her knees. She’d worn a white rose in her hair just to set it off and to please Hunter. “With that glib tongue, I think you’ll do just fine at this party tonight.”

He gave her a quelling look. “Not so sure about that. You know I don’t entertain.”

“Not even your friends?”

He looked uncomfortable again. “I’ve never invited them here.”

Really? That was surprising.
She knew he kept himself remote from others; she just had no idea
how
remote. “Well, I’m here tonight. You let me handle everything.” And she leaned in and gave him a grazing kiss on the mouth.

He grasped her and turned the kiss into something deeper, darker, and far more passionate. She moaned in response, making soft noises of pleasure when his tongue thrust into her mouth with searing ownership.

Someone clapped mockingly behind them. “Dinner and a show. You really know how to treat your guests, Hunter.”

Gretchen gasped and turned around, whirling out of Hunter’s arms. A man stood behind them in the doorway, dressed in a casual sports jacket, his collar open. He was handsome in a rakish, too-slick sort of way that she’d always despised. And he was assessing her with a speculative gaze that made her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

At her side, Hunter had gone stiff, and she glanced over at him, expecting to see a sharp scowl. But there was none. He just looked . . . resigned.

His hand went to her waist. “Come. Let me introduce you to Reese.”

They crossed the dining room, and Gretchen kept a hostess smile pinned on her face even as she extended her hand to him. “You’re our first guest,” she said cheerfully. “You must be one of Hunter’s friends.”

“I am. You must be Hunter’s new ladylove.” He gave her an approving smile and then lifted her hand to his mouth. “I applaud his taste.”

“Thanks.”

“I do hope Hunter doesn’t monopolize you the entire evening,” Reese said, giving her his best seductive look.

She pulled her hand out of his with a little grimace. “Cool your jets, lover boy. I’m not into dual penetration.”

He looked startled, then laughed, glancing at Hunter. “I see why you like her.”

Hunter simply gave his friend a tight smile, looking more uncomfortable by the minute. She moved back to his side, giving him a light squeeze on the ass to distract him before drifting away to straighten up the table again. Though she was a safe distance away, she pretended to look busy, all the while watching Hunter furtively.

Reese was still chuckling as she drifted past and began to whisper something to Hunter. He nodded, the uneasy look leaving his face. He began to whisper back to Reese, and the other man burst out laughing. One of Hunter’s rare smiles touched his mouth, and she relaxed a bit.

Maybe this wouldn’t be as painful as she expected. Hunter really seemed on edge about having people in his house. Still, she hoped the presence of his friends would calm him.

One by one, the guests began to arrive. She was introduced to a charming, aristocratic businessman named Griffin, and another gentleman named Jonathan, who owned an auto business. To her surprise and pleasure, Cade Archer showed up a short time later.

He arrived with a smile on his face, flowers in his hand, and gave her a big hug. “I’m so pleased that you’re here, Gretchen.”

She laughed, hugging him back. “A bad Petty always turns up.”

He groaned at her pun, then set her down on the floor. “Look at you. Gorgeous. Not an ounce of bad in you.”

She glanced over at Hunter, smiling. “I didn’t know you were friends with Cade.”

“We go back to college,” Cade said, flashing a white grin.

“Not nearly as far back as we do,” she said. She then turned to grin at Hunter, who had moved to her side.

“I see I don’t need to give introductions,” Hunter said in a guarded voice.

“You can, if it’ll stop Cade from giving me a noogie,” Gretchen teased.

Cade looked a bit embarrassed by her words. “I haven’t given a girl a noogie ever since I discovered they don’t have cooties, Gretchen. I think we’ve missed out on a few years in between.”

She smiled at Hunter to answer his enquiring look. “Cade grew up on the same street as I did. The twins, Cade, and I were the only children in the neighborhood, so we tended to play together quite a bit,” she told Hunter. Gretchen glanced over at Cade. “You know Audrey’s going to be here tonight, too.”

He nodded. “I’m not surprised. She’s Logan’s assistant, correct? Sometimes she shows up at these sorts of functions.”

Gretchen gave a little frown. So he knew Audrey was in the city and working for Logan? Why did no one tell her these things? “That’s right. I’m sure she’d love to catch up.” Another pair showed up at the door and Gretchen excused herself, heading over to greet her agent and her date.

Soon enough, everyone had arrived to the party, including Hunter’s friend Logan and his fiancée, Brontë. Brontë was good friends with Gretchen, so she immediately began to help with the food and drink. Her editor had arrived as well, along with his assistant and the publicist, and Gretchen spent a few minutes showing them around the dining room and talking about the house and the letters with great enthusiasm.

Gretchen introduced them to Hunter as well, but his normally reticent manner had gone stiff and cold. She couldn’t help but notice that Kat stared at his scars a bit too long and then whispered to her date. She felt a flare of irritation at her agent’s callousness. No wonder Hunter hated gatherings like this. People acted like he was a sideshow instead of just another person.

The only guest missing in their small party was Audrey. When Eldon showed up at the door of the dining room to announce another guest, Gretchen headed to his side, anticipating her sister’s arrival. To her surprise, Eldon moved into the room alone and headed to Gretchen’s side, leaning in to whisper.

“Your sister is here, Ms. Petty. And she has brought a . . . problem. Could you please follow me?”

Gretchen’s eyes widened. “Of course.” She glanced across the room where Hunter stood in silence near Jonathan and Reese, and she gestured to him that she would be back. She quickly followed Eldon down the hall and asked, “What’s the problem?”

“Follow me, Ms. Petty,” Eldon said in a disapproving voice. “You’ll soon see.”

She hurried behind him, anxiety ratcheting up a notch. Had something happened to Audrey? Her sister was always so self-contained and capable. If there was something wrong, it usually didn’t have anything to do with Audrey. Audrey strove to be perfect.

When they arrived in the massive main foyer, everything was made clear. Audrey was in the doorway, dressed in one of her coordinated suits and low-heeled pumps. Her pale red hair was drawn back into its usual tight bun. She also looked miserable.

Draped over Audrey’s shoulder was the heavily braceleted, too-skinny arm of Audrey’s twin and Gretchen’s sister, Daphne. Audrey’s polar opposite, Daphne’s hair was a dyed mess of black and pink streaks, and dark makeup pooled under her eyes. Her clothes were torn and dirty.

And she gave a goofy smile at the sight of Gretchen. “Oh, hey sis,” she slurred. “Heard you were having a party and thought I’d crash it.”

Chapter 11

“I’m so sorry, Gretchen,” Audrey said in a tight voice, shifting her weight even as Daphne slid against her. “She showed up earlier today and I couldn’t leave her alone.”

“It’s okay,” Gretchen said, moving forward to take Daphne’s arm. “Hey, Daph. How’s it going?”

“Greaaat,” Daphne said cheerfully, and her breath reeked of booze. She transferred her weight from Audrey to Gretchen, and Gretchen noticed how slight her troubled sister was. Audrey—sensible, sturdy Audrey—was rounded thanks to her desk job. Daphne was skin and bones, and she seemed unnaturally twitchy. She put a finger to her lips and then grinned. “I’m avoiding my manager. He’s trying to take my money again.”

“You mean put you on an allowance?” Gretchen said mildly, turning to look back at Eldon. “Can we add another seat to the party?”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Eldon gave Gretchen an unhappy look.

She wasn’t sure at all, but she didn’t have much of a choice.

“’Course she does,” Daphne said, and blinked rapidly. Gretchen noticed her pupils were huge and dilated. “I’m the entertainment. Don’t you know who I am?”

“He doesn’t care who you are, and you’re
not
the entertainment,” Gretchen told her.

“I’m really sorry,” Audrey said, hurrying behind her. “I didn’t know what else to do. Should we leave her in a room somewhere to let her sleep it off?”

“Can we trust her not to steal the silver?”

“Um, no.”

“Then no, we can’t. This is Hunter’s house.” Gretchen sighed. “Come on. Let’s introduce my junkie sister to my boyfriend and my new editor. This’ll be fun.”

They returned to the dining room and the soft, casual voices of conversation died at the sight of Daphne’s skinny, listing form.

“Hi, everyone. This is my sister Audrey and her twin, Daphne.” Gretchen winced, waiting for the explosions. The gasps. The whispers. Something always happened when Daphne entered a room.

It didn’t take long. Kat was the first to arrive at her side. “Oh, my God. Is that . . .” Her gaze went to Gretchen. “You’re Daphne Petty’s sister?
The
Daphne Petty?”

“Daphne! I am such a big fan.” The editorial assistant arrived at Daphne’s side, gushing with clear excitement. “I loved your first album. I even saw you on tour in 2010 with the Lipstick Project.”

“Yeah, that was me,” Daphne said, brightening to the subject. She put an arm around the editorial assistant’s shoulders and leaned in way too close. “They sucked, didn’t they? That fucking tour was a nightmare. Hated every moment of it. Couldn’t wait to get backstage and get loaded every night, just to get through the goddamn day. The drugs were the only thing that made it worth it. Shit, they had some fine ass drugs.” She peered at her new friend’s face. “You don’t have any drugs on you, do you?”

“Um.” The editorial assistant’s eyes widened and she looked to Gretchen for help.

“Daph,” Gretchen said in a warning voice.

“Oooh, wine,” Daphne said, heading for the table.

“No wine!” Audrey said, hurrying after her sister.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that Daphne Petty was your sister,” Kat hissed at her. “She is a gold mine of Hollywood gossip. Do you think she’d let us do an autobiography? We could sell it. We’re talking millions.”

“No, Kat,” Gretchen said, turning her agent away from Daphne and Audrey. “She’s not interested and neither am I. Her life is private.”

“Not that private,” Kat pointed out. “She’s in the tabloids every week. Is it true that her manager has her on a strict allowance? Is it true that she slept with Thomas Steele and aborted his baby? That her label assigns her handlers?”

Gretchen gave Kat a stern look. “I’m serious. Drop it. Daphne’s off the table.”

Kat raised a hand, indicating that she was backing off. “I’m just saying. You know where to go if she ever needs an influx of cash. Which, according to
Star Trax
magazine, is any day now.”

Ugh.
Gretchen rubbed her forehead, stress returning. Count on Daphne to mess things up tonight. She’d been hoping to have a low-key dinner to excite the publishing house, not try and put her sister up for auction to a group of vultures.

Brontë stepped in, smiling apologetically. “I hate to break in to the conversation, ladies, but dinner’s going to be served in a few minutes. Gretchen, where do you want to seat Daphne?”

Gretchen hesitated. Daphne’s high-pitched giggle cut through the air, grating on Gretchen’s nerves. “Put her on the far end of the table. Let’s make sure nothing but water gets close to Daphne.”

Brontë nodded and moved to Daphne’s side. As a former waitress, Brontë had experience in dealing with loud, obnoxious patrons, so Gretchen was assured that Brontë could handle her.

“Is everything all right?” Hunter was at Gretchen’s side in the next moment, his arm moving protectively around her shoulders. “You look unhappy.”

“Just surprised,” she told him softly. “Though I shouldn’t be. Daphne just brings trouble wherever she goes.”

“Do you want me to have her escorted off the premises?”

“No.” Gretchen shook her head. “Let’s just try and ignore her through dinner. I think Brontë has her handled.”

Indeed, Brontë was chatting cheerfully with Daphne and escorting her to the far end of the table, away from the wine and her new editor. Reese and Jonathan were watching Daphne with an amused expression, but the look on Cade’s face was sad. She knew how he felt—she wanted to cry every time she saw Daphne. She was a shadow of her former self.

“Wait,” Daphne slurred. “Where’s my sister?” She scanned the room, and then her gaze moved to Gretchen.

And then stopped on Hunter, still protectively looming over Gretchen’s side.

“Oh, my God,” Daphne said. She leaned over to Brontë and whispered loudly, “That dude is fucking hideous.”

The room grew immediately silent.

Ah, hell.
Gretchen put her arm around Hunter’s waist and smiled, even though she wanted to punch her sister in the mouth. She knew Hunter had to be humiliated. “Daphne, this is my . . . boyfriend, Hunter.” Were they boyfriend and girlfriend? He’d confessed love, so she felt comfortable saying that. She hoped he didn’t mind.

Daphne just stared, blinking her stoned eyes. “He’s like a bad acid trip.”

“Daph! Stop it! You’re embarrassing me.”

Daphne giggled. “Me? What about Quasimodo at your side there?”

“That’s enough,” Gretchen said through gritted teeth. She strode forward, pushing Brontë aside and grabbing Daphne by the arm. “I don’t care if you’re my sister. If you can’t be polite, you’re out of here. I’m going to call your manager and rat you out.”

“Daphne, please just be quiet,” Audrey said in a low, unhappy voice. “Please.”

Daphne ignored her twin, wrenching her arm out of Gretchen’s grip. “Why are your panties in such a wad, Gretchen? So you’re dating an ugly dude. So what.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, I get it. He’s rich, isn’t he?”

Horror burned Gretchen’s cheeks. Oh, God. That wasn’t it at all, but everyone at this party was going to think that of her, weren’t they? “You are leaving, Daphne. Right now.” She grabbed her sister’s thin, veiny arm. Audrey grabbed the other side. “Tell everyone you’re sorry and I won’t call your manager.”

“Gee, I’m sorry everyone,” Daphne slurred as they dragged her out of the room. “Sorry my sister is being such a lame piece of shit. Gretchen was always the fun, slutty one. Guess Audrey made her boring.”

Gretchen inwardly groaned at the shocked chuckles in the room.
Great. Just fucking great.
Now she was a slut
and
a gold digger in their eyes.

Eldon escorted them down the hall, moving valuable objects out of Daphne’s writhing grasp. It took the two sisters a few minutes to drag their protesting sister to the front door, but when she was finally there, Daphne seemed to calm down. “All right, all right. I’m going.” She looked at Gretchen with a pitying smile. “If you needed money, sis, all you had to do was ask. No need to whore yourself out to fugly guys.”

“Get. Out.”

“Can I be of assistance?” Cade arrived, glancing at Audrey before moving toward Daphne.

Daphne’s drunken expression softened. “Cade. You remembered me.” She held out her arms for a hug, and he moved into them.

“It’s going to be okay, Daphne,” Cade said in a soothing voice, stroking the thick tangle of Daphne’s hair. “I’ll take care of you.” He nodded at Gretchen and headed out the door, Daphne huddled against him.

Audrey followed them, a stricken look on her face.

Gretchen waited until she was sure they were gone, then turned from the door, feeling as if she wanted to vomit. God, Daphne was ruining everything.

In the hallway, Eldon stood there, staring at her. A look of hatred was on his face. “I never liked you much, Ms. Petty, but I never thought you were deliberately cruel. I see I was wrong.”

“You’re still wrong,” Gretchen told him, but it was clear her words weren’t getting through. “I’m not dating Hunter because he’s rich.”

Eldon ignored her, clearly choosing to believe otherwise. “I am returning to the party to serve dinner,” he told her a moment later, then left without bothering to see if she followed.

This was going to be a long, long evening.

***

Gretchen pac
ed the halls of Buchanan Manor, trying to compose herself. What a mess. She’d have to go in and apologize to everyone. She’d wanted a nice, quiet party among friends, perhaps impress her editor a little. She’d gotten a nightmare instead, and the urge to run away and not return was overwhelming. Hunter had to be miserable.

It was the thought of his misery that prompted her to return to the party. Gretchen headed back to the dining room.

Before she could open the door, though, Kat stepped out. She looked relieved at the sight of Gretchen. “Hey, kiddo. Can we talk?”

“Right now?” Gretchen bit her lip and gestured down the hall. “Let’s go to the kitchen, then. I need to make sure the desserts are ready to serve.”

They walked down the halls in silence. Once they pushed into the kitchen, Kat whistled, gazing at the enormous room. “This is impressive.”

“There’s three of them in the manor, actually.” Pride for Hunter made her offer the tidbit. “The entire house is lovely, isn’t it?”

“I imagine.” Kat gave her a knowing look and picked one of the slivered almonds off a delicately frosted cupcake and popped it into her mouth. “So is that why?”

Gretchen sighed at her friend. If Kat was going to pick at her creations, she’d have to fix them. She turned and headed for the large walk-in pantry. “Why what?”

“Why you’re with you know who. Scarface.”

She jerked open the door to the pantry and stepped inside, shoving aside cans, searching for the bag of slivered almonds. Irritation flared through Gretchen. Did everyone have to call Hunter names? She didn’t even notice his scars anymore. They gave him character, nothing more. Why was everyone fixated on them tonight? And where the hell were the damn slivered almonds?

She pushed aside a bag of chocolate chips with force. “I don’t know where you’re going with this, Kat.”

“I just wonder if you and him is about money more than lust. I mean, I get it. I like money, too, but jeez. He’s a lot to take in.”

“You know me,” Gretchen said sarcastically, “I’ll do anything for a paycheck.” If her agent believed that about her, they clearly weren’t as good friends as she thought. Still, Kat did seem to see the world in terms of money. She couldn’t grasp the concept of dating a man simply because she was fascinated by him. Annoyed, she continued to search the pantry. “I can’t believe you even had to ask me that.”

“I just have concerns for you. Do you need money that bad?”

Where were the damn slivered almonds? She shoved aside a tin of baking powder and spotted the bag. Finally. Gretchen grabbed it. “Honey, I always need money. But—”

She turned.

Hunter stood in the doorway of the kitchen and had listened to every word they’d said. His face was mottled red, the scars a livid white against his angry flush.

Kat was still seated, picking at a cupcake. As Gretchen’s voice died, she turned around and sucked in a breath.

“People are asking about you,” Hunter said, his voice cold enough to freeze the Arctic. “I thought I’d come and check on things.”

“We’re coming back,” Gretchen said brightly. “We were just making sure dessert was ready.” She bustled to the doorway and moved to give Hunter a quick kiss.

He sidestepped her embrace, avoiding her.

Hurt spiraled through Gretchen, but she ignored it, keeping a smile on her face. “Shall we get back to our dinner guests?”

“If we must,” Hunter said, his voice still ice cold.

With a sick feeling, Gretchen suspected he’d heard far more than he cared to. She needed a chance to explain.

She wondered if she’d even get that chance.

***

Dinner was an excruciating affair. Her food was praised, but Hunter was silent to all parties, and everyone seemed incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. Kat drank glass of wine after glass of wine, and Brontë kept casting Gretchen concerned looks from the far end of the table. Determined to make the best, Gretchen was a little bit loud, a little bit brash, and kept the conversation going even when it died an awkward death time after time.

Soon enough, dessert was served and demolished, and guests began to slowly trickle out. Brontë and Logan were two of the first to go, and Brontë promised to call her in the morning, no doubt to offer support or simply to get details out of her. Hunter’s other friends quickly followed, until there was no one left but her new editor, Preston Stewart.

As Gretchen walked him to the door, she chatted on and on about the letters and the history of Buchanan Manor.

“It sounds like a fascinating project,” he said. “I can’t wait to see the finished manuscript. When do you think you’ll be done?”

Gretchen kept her too-fake smile pinned to her face. “I wanted to ask you about that. I’ve had a bit of a setback and need a few more weeks to hit my deadline. Is that going to be a problem?”

He frowned slightly, then shrugged. “I’ll run it past our boss and see what he says.”