Breaking All the Rules (Billionaire Romance) (The A List Series (Book 2)) (4 page)

Chapter FIVE

Cora

I rolled over, stretching as the morning light cascaded through the sheer curtains. When I turned, searching the space next to me for Breccan, it was empty.

I frowned. “Please don’t let that have been a dream like last time,” I mumbled. But I knew it couldn’t have been. I was naked in his bed and deliciously sore. Unless I did some crazy sleep walking—and sleep humping—it was real.

I looked around the room, not quite sure what to do next. I’d never been in this situation before. Was I supposed to get up and leave? Or just start work? All of a sudden, I was really uncomfortable. I pulled the sheet around me and slid out of the massive bed. I tiptoed around the room and headed into the bathroom. After relieving my bladder, I continued my search into the office and kitchen. I didn’t find Breccan, but I did find a note next to the coffee maker.

              Cora,

                            I hated leaving this morning, but there was something that demanded my attention. I won’t be long.

                                                                                    Until then,

                                                                                                  Breccan

I read the short note again before folding it and setting it back on the counter. I sighed, not really sure what to do next. I wanted to shower, but didn’t have any clean clothes here. And I still hadn’t replaced my gym clothes that I let his last skank borrow over a month ago. Deciding my best bet was heading home to shower and change. I padded back into the bedroom and discarded the sheet. Slipping my jeans and tee shirt back on and leaving my dirty panties in my pocket (because—ew.).

I drove home and quickly showered, ignoring the blatant sex noises of my neighbor Cassidy and her boytoy of the week; who was apparently Ace this time around, based on her screaming. I brushed my hair, weaving a quick French braid before heading to my closet to find something to wear. I scanned through everything I owned twice before deciding on a simple cornflower blue sundress and a pair of brown gladiator sandals. After applying a quick bit of makeup, I glanced at myself in the mirror and smiled. Not too shabby for getting ready in under a half hour.

Getting back in my car, I headed back to Breccan’s hoping he would be there. I was nervous and excited, wondering if he’d kiss me like he did yesterday. God, I hope he kissed me like he did yesterday.

As I pulled into my designated spot, I frowned seeing the empty driveway. Using my key, I entered Breccan’s house and slipped out of my shoes, wondering what to do next. Deciding to fill my time with work, I pulled out my tablet and took a seat at the dining room table, getting lost in returning emails and updating Breccan’s crazy calendar.

I had just hit send on an email from a studio exec when I heard the front door open. I set the tablet down and pushed my chair back, excited to see Breccan.

“Hey! Breccan! I’ve been—”

I halted in my tracks when I saw he wasn’t alone. Standing beside him, clutching the inside of his forearm, was Miranda Deveraux—two time Emmy award winning actress, America’s sweetheart, and Breccan’s ex-girlfriend.

I stood there, just staring and not at all understanding what was going on. Breccan cleared his throat, the situation now awkward, and I snapped out of it. “Oh, I’m sorry. I, um, didn’t realize you weren’t alone.”

Breccan rubbed his eyebrow, a gesture I often noticed he did when nervous. “Yeah, Cora I’d like you to meet—”

“I know who she is,” I cut him off.

A smirk hit Miranda’s lips. “I see my reputation precedes me.” She extended her hand, fingers down as if I was supposed to kiss it like she was the queen or something. I suppressed the urge to gag and nodded in her direction.

Seeing I wasn’t going to take her hand, she pulled it back, placing it on Breccan’s bicep territorially. “And you must be… Breccan’s housekeeper?”

The overwhelming desire to slap her bubbled up inside me. I swallowed it down and tried to smile. “Personal Assistant.”

“Ahh, well, tomayto, tomahto. Here,” she threw her purse at me. “Could you take this and be a dear and bring me some Perrier! Thanks.”

She turned back to Breccan, not seeing the smoke that surely must have been exploding from my head. That bitch!

Breccan never corrected her, never said anything to either of us. I stared at him, hoping he’d explain what the hell was going on, but he remained stoic, not giving away anything.

“Now, what were we discussing, Breccs? Ahh, yes, dinner plans for tonight. I was thinking Cecconi’s. They have the best lobster ravioli and I’ve been craving it all week. And I know how you love their soft shelled crabs.” She led Breccan away into the living room, not even bothering to remove her strappy sandals as she tracked dirt and God knew what else onto his Persian rugs.

I tossed her Dior bag haphazardly onto the table as I returned to the kitchen. What the fuck was going on? I was so totally lost. A few hours ago, Breccan was worshiping my body, telling me how amazing and beautiful I was. How much he’d been dying to do those things. And today, he could barely look in my direction. Did he regret it? Did he think it was a horrible mistake?

The thought was like a punch to the gut, leaving tears stinging my eyes. No, before I freaked out acting like a hormonal girl, I would wait and talk to him. Maybe he just didn’t want to discuss anything in front of Miranda. But why in the world was she here in the first place? I knew his schedule inside and out, and he had no upcoming projects or appearances with her. I grabbed a bottle of Perrier from the fridge and headed back into the living room, hoping to get a second alone with Breccan to find out.

Miranda was practically sitting on top of Breccan when I came in the room, her leg swung over his as she giggled like a twelve year old on her first date.  “Oh my God, Breccs, you’re so right. It is exactly like that.  Why didn’t I ever think of that before?”

Probably because you were too busy trying to ride him like a pony,
I grumbled to myself as I slammed the bottle down on the table.  “There ya go,” I bit out. “Breccan, can I have a word with you?”

Breccan nodded, but didn’t meet my eyes, focusing instead on Miranda’s hand on his thigh. “Yes, I think that would be a good idea.”

Breccan began to stand, but Miranda’s hand only tightened her grip. She whispered something in his ear, but I couldn’t hear most of it, only making out “remember” and “agreement.” Anger flashed in his eyes as his jaw clenched, but only for a second before returning to indifferent once again. He cleared his throat and turned back to me. “Give me a few minutes to finish up here, okay? I’ll meet you in the office. Wait for me there.”

I tried to read his expression, but he was completely closed off, so I turned to leave when Miranda called out. She batted her fake eyelashes at me, smiling through her obvious veneers.

“Um.. sorry, dear, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Cora.”

“Yes, of course, Cara. Were you able to make that reservation for tonight?”

My fingernails dug into my palms. “No, not yet. I’ll do that now.”

“Smashing!” She turned back to Breccan. “So I was thinking about the premiere…”

I didn’t stay to listen to anything else, not sure if I could stomach hearing her voice for another second. I didn’t know if it was plain ole’ jealousy or that she treated me like I was so far beneath her that made me hate her more. But I did. I don’t care what America thought of her, I instantly knew she was a conniving bitch.

Almost twenty minutes later, Breccan finally walked into the office, still not meeting my eyes and closed the door behind him. He blew out a slow breath, then turned back to me. His eyes gave nothing away, no remorse, no sympathy for the way she treated me. Nothing.

“So, listen. We need to talk.”

Crap. I already hated how this was going.

“Some things have come up.”

“Clearly,” I said flatly.

He looked up, sliding his hands into his jeans. “I’m going to need you to take the rest of the day off. The next couple of days, in fact. I’ll text you with anything important that needs done and I can’t handle. Feel free to use the time to go and relax for a few days. Get away for the weekend even. Your services won’t be necessary here.”

My services won’t be necessary?
I blinked, not even sure how to respond to that. “Breccan,” I started, trying to find the right words. “Last night—”

He held up a hand, pain flashing momentarily in his eyes. “Don’t, Cora. Just… go, take a couple of days. I’ll see you Monday,”

He turned and exited the room, leaving me a puddle of emotions. My hands shook as I grabbed my purse and tablet, trying desperately to ignore the happy giggles coming from Miranda in the next room.

I held the tears at bay the entire drive home, not breaking down until I turned the key to my front door. I’d had the best sex of my life, the best night of my life, and it was nothing more than another notch on Breccan’s bedpost.

Chapter SIX

Cora

I spent the rest of my weekend binge watching Nexflix, drinking all the wine I had in the house, and raiding my fridge of all the ice cream I owned while avoiding awkward “what’s wrong” phone calls from Simon. My emotions were all over the board: I went from heartbroken to feeling stupid, feeling used, then to furious that Breccan treated me that way, and back to being heartbroken. After allowing myself to pout for forty-eight hours, I decided enough was enough. He just wanted a night of casual sex, fine. Then I needed to accept that’s all it was and move on.

Somehow.

Breccan had only texted me once, with a change in his press junket schedule. I noted the change and rearranged a few things, texting him back several hours later that it was taken care of. He never replied.

Every time I turned on the TV (and I kept doing so because I was a horrible glutton for punishment apparently), the paparazzi had been all over the Breccan and Miranda reunion, already dubbing them Brecanda, and making me vomit in my mouth. After being spotted at The Ivy for dinner (because of course she’d pick the number one restaurant for photographers to stalk to ensure they’d be seen), the two had been spotted all over town: getting frozen yogurt, shopping at a farmer’s market, and even lounging on the beach.

As Monday morning rolled around, I dreaded heading over to Breccan’s house, knowing I would absolutely hate whatever I walked in on. I thought nothing could be worse than finding a naked slut on my first day, but I was sure no matter what condition I found him and Miranda in, it would be a thousand times worse.

I parked, grumbling as I noticed Miranda’s BMW 5 series in the driveway. “Well, here goes nothing.”

I took a deep breath and headed inside, surprised to see someone else with Breccan and Miranda.

“Ahh! There you are, Cara,” Miranda clucked.

“Cora,” I corrected her, barely keeping the venom out of my tone.

“Sorry, sorry. I don’t know why that keeps slipping my mind. Too distracted, I suppose.” She winked at Breccan and it took everything in me not to walk over and knock her teeth out.  “Anyways, I wanted to introduce you to
my
assistant here. I thought you two would hit it off smashingly.”

The muscles of Breccan’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t say a word. I turned from him to Miranda’s assistant, my eyes widening a bit.

Miranda continued. “This here is Chase, my right hand man. I swear I’d be completely lost without him. Chase, this is Breccan’s assistant, Cora.”

He stood, coming over to shake my hand. I extended it, taking him in. He was tall, probably just over six feet, and was very what I called “California.” Tanned skin, toned muscles, a fantastic man-bun, and a beautiful face with strong, defined cheekbones and sparking green eyes. He could easily make it big in the modeling world. Hell, he might be trying to break into it with Miranda as a stepping stone. I could certainly see him on a runway.

“It’s nice to meet you, Cora,” he smiled down at me. He had a sexy southern drawl that made me want to just sit and listen to him talk for hours.

“You too,” I stammered out.

Miranda crossed her legs, scooting closer to Breccan, who only stiffened momentarily before wrapping his arm around her. I couldn’t bare to look another minute. Miranda sighed in contentment, making my stomach churn, before addressing us again. “Cora, I’m going to need you and Chase to work together for a few days, coordinating Breccan and my upcoming appearances.”

My eyes narrowed in confusion. “I wasn’t aware that you and Breccan had any upcoming appearances together.”

Miranda’s face may not have given much away—probably too much Botox—but her eyes said plenty. The possessive vibe was practically oozing out of them. They may as well screamed, “He’s mine now, bitch.” 

She nudged Breccan with her shoulder. “Breccs, don’t you keep your people up to speed? However are they supposed to do their jobs properly?”

Breccan wouldn’t even look at me when he replied, “Chase will fill you in.”

I didn’t move, my eyes fixed on Breccan for several long moments, almost daring him to face me. Give me something: regret, anger, hell I’d even take pain, but he never did, instead his focus solely on his phone. Realizing I wasn’t getting anywhere with Breccan, I turned to Chase. I may have wanted to strangle Breccan and slap the bitch right out of Miranda, but I still had a job to do until my contract was up next week and I would do it well for Simon’s sake. He trusted me, and I wouldn’t let my personal feelings reflect badly on my brother. He didn’t deserve it.

“Well, let’s get started then, shall we?” I led Chase into the office, ignoring Miranda’s giggles from the other room. I sat down at the desk and pulled out my tablet. “So…”  I didn’t even know where to begin, feeling completely out of the loop.

“She can be a bit… much, huh?” Chase winked at me.

“That’s one word for it. I might have chosen another.”

He bellowed out a laugh, tearing me out of my funk and making me smile with him. “Everyone thinks she’s America’s sweetheart, but nothing could be farther from the truth, am I right?”

I nodded. “So why work for her?”

“Connections. This industry is crazy to try to break into. It’s all about who you know. And love her or hate her, she’s a good person to know.” He pulled his chair next to mine, so close our elbows were touching. “So, let’s get started, shall we?”

It turned out that Miranda had somehow weaseled her way convincing the studio executives into letting her promote her next project—an off-Broadway play that had nothing at all to do with Breccan’s action flick—along side him.  This meant that the majority of Breccan’s press junkets would be a dual appearance, and several things needed rearranged in both of their schedules.

Almost two hours later, Chase and I had hammered out the details of several upcoming TV appearances, had put in calls to over a dozen people, and coordinated both Breccan and Miranda’s schedules for the next two weeks. Of course, one phone call could blow everything we’d just done up, but it was a good start nonetheless. 

Chase and I got along surprisingly well, swapping stories about some of the craziness we’d seen since moving to LA. Chase was really down to earth, and funny, and I enjoyed getting to know him.

I leaned back in my chair, my stomach grumbling. “I am famished. I haven’t eaten anything besides a Tic Tac so far today and I swear if we don’t take a break soon I’m going to go all zombie on you and start gnawing at your arm.”

He moved his arm out of my reach. “Um, sorry there, darling, but
The Walking Dead
films in Georgia, not LA.”

I giggled. “Well you better move your arm back over to Georgia or bring me a sandwich. You’re choice there.”

“Hey, you nibble on me, I might just have to do the same.” He leaned over, his teeth grazing along my shoulder. “Mmm… sweet and tender, just the way I like it.”

I laughed again. “Oh my God, stop. That tickles!”

Chase repeated the motion, this time moving his fingers around my waist to tickle me further. I squealed, trying to roll my chair away, but his hands prevented me from going anywhere.

“What the fuck is going on?”

We both stopped and stared at Breccan, who was seething in the doorway, hands fisted at his sides and jaw set tight. His eyes were raging as he looked back and forth between us.

“Um, sorry. Did we disturb you and Miranda?” I asked, not the least bit sorry.

Breccan faltered a bit at my question, but still didn’t move. “Are you okay?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

My heart squeezed as a tiny glimmer of hope reentered my brain, but I quashed it back down. I couldn’t deal with hope. It was too painful. Instead, I stuck with indifference. “I’m fine, Breccan. Chase was just teasing me. Honest. You can go back to…whatever you and Melinda were doing.”

Chase snorted at my purposeful misuse of her name, while Breccan just continued to stare daggers at him.

“Besides, we’re almost done here. Unless there’s something else you needed?” I closed my tablet, setting it in my bag.

“No. I don’t.”

I stood up. “Good then. I’m going to get some lunch.”

Chase stood too, grabbing my bag for me. “Good. I’ll join you.”

I strode up to Breccan, missing his touch and angry at the way he played me. I was angrier at myself that I fell for his act. “I left your mail on the table. There was a certified letter, but nothing else seemed important. Is there anything else? Or can I go?”

Breccan opened his mouth. Closed it again. We were so close, all it would take was a few inches for him to reach out and touch me. Yet his hands remained at his sides. Finally, after staring at me for a solid minute, not saying a word, he moved aside. “Have a good day, Cora. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I didn’t bother to reply, instead, directing my words at Chase. “C’mon. I know this great taco stand not far from here. They have I swear the best tamales in all of LA.”

The last sound I heard as I walked out the door was Breccan’s low growl. I brushed it off, not letting him or his mood swings affect me any longer. No matter how badly it stung deep down.