Entwine (Billionaire Series) (10 page)

Jennifer hurried
into the restaurant. She was late and that did nothing to ease the fluttering
in her stomach. She'd spent a good thirty minutes walking around to clear her
mind after leaving work, and then, realized that she had only forty-five
minutes to shower, change, and get to Angelo's. She'd sent a text ahead to tell
Brad that she was running behind and hoped that new Brad didn't let it spoil
the evening. After the day she'd had, she really needed something to go right.
What she didn't need was Brad getting pissy because she wasn't on time.

Angelo's was just
as she remembered it even though it had been nearly three years since she'd
been there last. All of her memories of this place were intrinsically tied to
Brad. It was here they'd had their first fancy date. Here they'd come when they
celebrated their dating anniversary. They'd come here the night they'd first
moved in together even though they had an apartment full of things that needed
unpacked and could barely afford to split an appetizer. All of those memories
flooded into Jennifer's mind as the hostess approached.

“I'm meeting
someone here.” Jennifer pulled her wrap more tightly around her shoulders,
suddenly self-conscious though she wasn't sure why. If anything, she should be
comfortable with Brad here. This was their place. “Brad Miller?”

“Right this way,
ma'am,” the attractive young hostess motioned for Jennifer to follow her.

They made their way
through the crowded tables to a small booth for two at the back of the
restaurant. Jennifer hadn't really needed the escort. She could have made it
there blindfolded. It was their booth. She gave Brad a shy smile as she slid into
the seat across from him.

“Things any better
at work today?” He asked after giving the waitress their wine selection.

Jennifer shook her
head, unable to meet his eyes. She was afraid that whatever she saw there would
make her starting crying. “I might have actually quit.”

“You might have
quit? You're not sure?”

She shrugged. “I
told my boss that I was quitting but I don't know if he took it seriously.” She
didn't add that she wasn't sure if she wanted Philip to have taken it
seriously. She took a deep breath. “You know what, Brad, I don't want to talk
about my work. It's depressing and I've had enough of that for today.” She
raised her head. “Why don’t you tell me what you've been up to since I saw you
last.”

Brad looked pleased
by her query. “Well, for the last six months, I've actually been working as a nutritionist
for a minor league baseball team down south. Then, about three weeks ago, I got
a job offer from Bud Melville.”

“The hockey coach?”
Jennifer recognized the name. Rachel was insane for hockey. Jennifer had never
understood the appeal.

“Right,” Brad
nodded. “Anyway, I did a phone interview and then, last week, I got the job.”

“Congratulations!”
Jennifer said whole-heartedly. “I'm glad you're doing so well.”

“I am,” Brad took a
sip of his wine. “And it's not just with the job either. I've really changed
the way I look at things, Jenny. I don't see the world the same way I did
before.”

Jennifer raised an
eyebrow. While she was still hurt from her encounter with Philip, she wasn't
quite as vulnerable as she'd been the previous night. She wasn't sure she was
ready to accept that Brad had done a complete one-eighty. “What happened to
cause this change?”

Brad shifted in his
seat and abruptly stood. “I have to use the restroom. I'll be right back and
I'll answer your question. I promise.”

As he hurried away,
Jennifer took a sip of her wine. It wasn't as good as the bottle she had at
home, but it wasn't bad either. She wondered just what Brad had gone through
that had made him have this metamorphosis. It wasn't like his previous behavior
had really had some sort of root basis in his childhood. She knew his parents.
Granted, Mitsy and Buster Miller hadn't been the most affectionate of parents,
but they hadn't abused him. If anything, they'd spoiled him, which, Jennifer
supposed, could have contributed to some of Brad's problems. The Millers had
actually been one of the wealthier families in town and Jennifer had sometimes
envied them. Well, envied them for their money anyway. Had Brad experienced
some sort of tragedy recently that made him realize that he needed to
change—even if it was just to change the way he communicated with other people
in his life? Tragedy could do strange things to people.

Maybe, Jennifer
thought suddenly, that's what had happened to Philip. Maybe there was some
horrible tragedy in his childhood or adolescence or even when he'd been a young
adult. Things like that left scars, and not just physical ones. Her previous
observation regarding psychological training fit in here as well. If Philip had
been through something awful as a child, he probably would've been sent to see
a psychologist. If that was the case, was she being too harsh on him? Shouldn't
she be more understanding of why he didn't want to talk about his past? If
she'd been abused or abandoned or anything like that, she didn't think she'd
want to talk to people about it. Maybe she should try to give him a second
chance like she was giving Brad. After all, Philip's situation might be a bit
more understandable.

Then again, she
countered, if something tragic had happened to Philip, wasn't it also possible
that he was damaged beyond repair? Could she really be in a relationship with
someone who needed so much help just to interact with people? How far gone was
too far? And when did sympathizing with or pitying someone stop becoming a
reason to be with someone?

The questions were
still circling in her mind when Brad returned from the restroom. He still
looked a little nervous, but didn't back away from her previous question.

“You asked what
changed me,” he started. “The simple answer is you.”

Jennifer wasn't
sure what exact expression was on her face, but she knew it was one of genuine
surprise.

“It didn't take me
long after I lost you to realize that I'd made a horrible mistake letting you
go,” Brad continued. “You'd always been there for me, taken care of me, and I'd
taken it all for granted. I wanted to get you back and I knew that I didn't
deserve a second chance, not the way that I was. It was then that I decided to
make myself worthy of you.”

Jennifer could
hardly believe what she was hearing. Brad had changed because of her? He'd
cared about her enough to become this better person?

“I read self-help
books and psychology books and tried to figure out where we went wrong, what
I'd done wrong. I started looking for a better job so I could support us.” Brad
took a deep breath. “And then I realized that there is one way I could prove
that I really have changed, that everything I've told you is true. One way to
show you that I want this time to be different.”

Before Jennifer
could even start to speculate what Brad could possibly mean by that, he slid
out of his seat and, there, in front of her, dropped to one knee. He held up a
small black box and, as he opened it, said, “Jennifer Brooks, I've loved you
since I was a boy and I want to love you for the rest of your life. Will you
marry me?”

I went to work the
next day, and the next, my sleepless night and the suitcase in my closet
burning a hole in my chest and my brain, leaving me touchy and distracted. More
than one of my colleagues asked me if everything was okay, and I had to force a
smile and lie through my teeth to convince them that nothing was wrong and to
keep out of the daily lunchtime gossip.

I wanted to talk to
Sharon so bad, but it was several days before she could spare the time to get
dinner with me. Her next wedding was only a couple weeks away, and she was
being run off her feet organizing the bridal shower and seeing to all the last
minute details, dress alterations, bridal favors and everything else that went
with the traditional big, expensive wedding.

When she did turn
up at our favorite Italian restaurant, she was twenty minutes late and slightly
breathless. I was more than a little suspicious that the breathlessness was a
fake excuse, since she had clearly driven to the restaurant, but I let it
slide. She had come up with this trick for most of her more demanding clients,
and now did it regularly out of habit.

“I’m so sorry I’m
late – the bride’s sister had a meltdown because she’s older, and kind of on
the chubby side, and thinks she’s going to die alone while her sister gets
married to her prince charming and has truckloads of fat babies,” Sharon
explained hurriedly. “Honestly, it’s enough to make you never want to get married.
I think Ryan and I will just elope if we ever decide to tie the knot.”

I nodded,
preoccupied despite the panting, pink-clad cloud of fuss and worry in front of
me.

“Amanda? Are you
okay?” she asked me, concerned. “Usually you’d have a witty comeback for me, or
at least a slap for kicking you out of your role as maid of honor.”

“Sorry,” I sighed,
giving Sharon a wan smile. “I’ve had a lot on my plate too these past days.”

“Did you have to go
to seventeen different shoe shops to try and convince a teary bridesmaid that
life was worth living for high heels, if not for men?” Sharon joked. I gave her
a weak smile and she gave me her own dazzling grin in response as she gestured
to her own feet, strapped into a gorgeous pair of pink satin sandals, complete
with skyscraper heels.

“Well, I didn’t say
there were no perks,” she admitted. I laughed despite myself, and we ordered a
bottle of wine to see us through the dinner. For a while we chatted about
shoes, clothes and the upcoming wedding that Sharon was planning, but as soon
as the wine arrived, Sharon got down to best friend business.

“Now, what’s got
your panties in a twist?” Sharon asked me as we toasted to new shoes and
shopping sprees. “Is it that hedge fund guy?”

“Yeah, who else?”

Sharon gave a
theatrical sigh, but settled down to listen attentively nonetheless.

“He keeps telling
me to stay away, but it’s like a pot of honey telling a bee to stay away,” I
explained. “I called him the other day, and he called back – he told me he
wasn’t the same person he was when I knew him, but I know he has a good heart,
even if he has gotten older.”

“Mandy,” Sharon
said, and the look she gave me was full of kindness and sympathy, “If he’s
telling you to stay away, maybe it’s for the best. From everything you’ve told
me about him, he doesn’t sound like a very safe person to get involved with. We
all fall for bad boys now and again. The trick is to get out before the damage
is done.”

I frowned. “Since
when have you dated a bad boy?” I asked curiously. “If Ryan got any more
straight-laced he’d have to wear a corset.”

Sharon laughed.
“Before I met you,” Sharon said, blushing slightly at the memory. “He was a
freshman at college and he had his own car. I was 16, and… you don’t really
need to hear this story.”

“I’ll take your
word for it that you acted with integrity and restraint,” I said. Sharon gave
me a sheepish grin, and we both burst out laughing.

“There’s something
else, too,” I admitted as our laughter died down. I took a deep breath and told
Sharon about the mysterious man at my front door, the package from Mathis, and
the gun and the money I found inside it. I was about to tell her what Mathis
had told me when he called back at 4am, but before I could get it out, Sharon
cut me off.

“Whoa!” Sharon stopped
me before I could continue. “He gave you a gun –” she cut herself off realizing
how loud she was speaking and immediately adjusted her voice to a loud whisper.
“A
gun
and a suitcase full of money? What the fuck!”

“I didn’t really
know what to make of it myself,” I admitted.

“Are you sure he’s
not trying to get you involved in whatever trouble he’s in?” Sharon asked. “Do
you think it’s dirty money?”

Although I had felt
as though the money was dirty, I had never considered this perspective.

“No,” I said
decisively. “Mathis is almost obsessed with keeping me safe. He won’t so much
as let me call him, let alone see him. The last thing he’d do is try to get me
involved in whatever trouble he’s in. If he wanted to pay those guys off, he’d
send the money to them, not me.”

“Why didn’t he send
those guys the money?” Sharon asked. “It seems like that would be the best way
to keep you both safe.”

“Mathis would never
give money to criminals. He’s too honest for that – he wouldn’t endorse their
crimes. Besides, that way he’d be in the palm of their hands. They could ask
for whatever they wanted. He wouldn’t put himself in that position.”

“If you say so,”
Sharon accepted. “It was just a thought. So did he leave a note or anything?”

“No,” I said. “I
tried to call him, but he didn’t answer. He called me back and he told me the
money was the inheritance from Uncle Andy. Since we’re not working together on
the investments, he wanted me to have the money just in case.”

“That still seems
awfully suspicious to me,” Sharon said with a frown. “Amanda, I know that
you’ve got a thing for this guy, but are you
sure
he’s not involved in
something dirty? Nobody just up and gives some girl a
ton
of money to
get her to stop seeing him.”

I was getting
indignant with what Sharon was suggesting.

“He’s not involved
in anything dirty, Sharon. Really! Like I told you, he made some mistakes when
he was younger, but he’d never do anything dangerous or evil. You haven’t met
him, Shaz. When I first saw him again, he was cold and distant, but he was trying
to keep away from me. Whenever we’ve been in a dangerous situation, his first
instinct has always been to keep me safe.

“Whatever he told
me, I don’t believe he’s a different person from the one I knew. I trust him
completely. It just makes me frustrated that he’s treating me like a little
girl, trying to take care of me and not letting me have a say in my own life!”

Once I’d said it, I
realized that was what had been bothering me all along, and I was furious with
myself for not recognizing it earlier. The money and the gun both represented
Mathis protecting me, giving me everything and not allowing me to work for
anything myself or to make decisions by myself. He wouldn’t let me decide
whether I wanted to be near him or not – he had made the decision for me and
then given me the money, never giving me an option to refuse.

Sharon seemed
convinced, but she was still frowning.

“You’re right, I
can’t make conclusions about this guy if I’ve never met him,” she admitted.
“But you’re my best friend, and I care about you too much to let you put
yourself in any danger.”

“Everyone’s so
worried about me being in danger,” I grumbled. “I really don’t think I am – I’m
more concerned about Mathis, and I’d rather be involved than protected like a
child.”

“That’s one area
where I agree with Mathis,” Sharon said firmly. “I think you should stay away
from him, Amanda. It’s dangerous to be near him right now. This is his problem
and he needs to sort it out alone. Can you imagine what it would be like to put
a person you cared about in danger because you selfishly cared more about being
near them than about their safety? If Mathis cares about you, he shows it more
by keeping his distance than he would if he was parading you around as the
future Mrs. Côté or some shit.”

I blushed at the
title, and I felt suddenly ashamed for being so hard on Mathis. I knew that if
it was me, the last thing I’d want to do was put someone I loved in danger
because of me.

“You’re right,” I
said grudgingly to Sharon. “He’s doing the right thing trying to keep me safe –
even so, I wish he’d given me a choice – and I don’t want his money!”

“Are you sure?”
Sharon teased. “I know all the best boutiques – we could have a blast with all
that cash!”

“That’s my uncle’s
inheritance you’re talking about,” I warned her despite my own laughing.

“Fine,” Sharon
conceded. “You need something to take your mind off Mathis, though. I know!”
Her pretty face brightened. “I have to host a bridal shower this weekend. You
could come and help me out.”

“Are you sure
that’d be okay?” I asked. “I don’t want to crash.”

“It’ll be fine,”
Sharon assured me. “You can help out serving drinks and organizing the present
table, and besides, it’ll be way more fun with you there to help me out. You
can even help me out with the bride’s sister in case she has another meltdown.
Some of the other women are real sacks of vinegar too.”

“You make it sound
so tempting,” I said dryly.

“You’ll come
though, right? It’ll help you get your mind off things. Besides, the caterers I
hired are awesome – the head chef is really cute!”

“Sharon,” I said
warningly.

“Okay, okay, I
won’t try and hook you up with the chef. Are you in?”

“I’m in,” I agreed.
Sharon was right – it would be a nice change to help someone else and forget
about my own problems for a little while.

“It’s just what you
need,” Sharon said, as if she could read my mind. “I know it’s hard, Mandy, but
you need to move on from Mathis. Even if there are feelings there, it’s clear
that nothing can ever happen between the two of you. You’re just hurting
yourself by refusing to let go.”

“I know, it’s just–”

“I understand,”
Sharon said soothingly. “I’m sorry, Mandy. It won’t be easy, but I’m here for
you. I’m your best friend. I’ll always be here when you need me, whether it be burning
a hole in your pocket, getting you really drunk, or setting you up with a cute
guy who can cook.”

“I appreciate it,”
I smiled. Our food arrived, and our conversation went on to other matters.

As I left the
restaurant, a little tipsy from the wine and full to the brim with my favorite
fettuccini, my heart felt lighter than it had, but still heavy. I knew that
Sharon was probably right – it seemed like it would be impossible for me and
Mathis to ever be together. I should just move on and spare myself the pain.
Still, it was easier said than done. Even with every ounce of logic telling me
to let it go, in my heart I still doubted.

***

It
was much easier to distract myself from everything whilst enjoying delicious
Italian food with my chatty, bubbly best friend. Once I was alone again in my
apartment, my doubts and anxieties seemed to envelop me once again. My heart
throbbed as thoughts of Mathis bombarded me, my head ached as I thought about
the complex situation, and my limbs twitched uncomfortably as I thought back to
the suitcase lurking in the back of my closet.

I
climbed into bed, deciding to catch up on my sleep, which had been broken and
restless ever since the suitcase had taken up residence in my closet. It was
useless. Almost as soon as I lay down, I felt wide awake. My limbs were totally
restless. I tossed and turned for a few minutes, then got up and meandered over
to the kitchen. As I waited for my kettle to boil, I looked out the window. It
wasn’t late, just around 10, and the streets were still busy outside. I
wondered how many of the people heading home right now would sleep well, their
lives and loves comfortable and secure. Weird. Only a few weeks ago, I had been
one of those people.