Entwine (Billionaire Series) (11 page)

I
wouldn’t call myself the luckiest woman in the world. At 29, more than a few
people have asked me when I was going to find a man and settle down. I didn’t
mind too much, though. I had never been much of a romantic, not like Sharon,
who’d been planning her own wedding since long before we had met in college and
dropped so many hints on the head of her boyfriend Ryan that it was amazing he
didn’t have dents in his skull. I’d always been quiet and bookish, content to
live my own life, enjoying my friends and my writing without the complication
of a relationship. Whenever a man had come along, I’d never had more than a few
weeks of enjoyment before it had started to fall apart. More often than not,
the relationship had simply started to drag and become boring. I’d moved on
without more than a whisper of emotion, and my life had gone on much as before
– stable and peaceful, if not perfect.

Now
it felt as though everything had been turned upside down. Even before the
shooting and the threat, before the money and the gun, Mathis had jumbled up my
life into a sea of confusion and emotional turmoil. How was I supposed to move
on from that, knowing that he was still out there, that he was still looking
out for me? Maybe he was even still thinking about me, just as I was thinking
about him.

Without
even meaning to, I forgot about my kettle and found myself back in my bedroom,
rummaging through my closet until my hand touched the smooth, soft leather of
the suitcase. I tugged it out, squashing several pairs of shoes in the process,
and laid it down on my bed.

My
fingers stroked the outside of the suitcase, afraid to open it again. It was
Mathis’ – a gift from him, even if wasn’t something that I wanted. If I closed
my eyes, I could almost imagine him taking it out, empty, from his own closet.
What had he been thinking as he collected together the contents? Was it really
my security he had in mind? I tried to imagine his face, his chiseled jaw
clenched in worry and his eyes clouded as he frowned, wondering if I was okay,
hoping that I wouldn’t need to use the gun.

But
why hadn’t he left a note – or better still, come to see me himself? My
imaginings disappeared in a flash as my anger returned, as strong as before. As
much as I tried to think of this as a way for Mathis to be concerned about me,
it all came back to him telling me what to do.

I
was tired of being told what to do, especially since everyone was telling me
not to see Mathis – including Mathis himself! It was frustrating, when the one
thing I wanted to do more than anything else was to see him, and it was the one
thing I couldn’t do. I knew he had my best interests at heart, as did Sharon,
but I didn’t care. I was a grown ass woman – I wasn’t the same silly girl who
made up fairy stories about handsome princes. If I wanted to see Mathis, then I
would. I wasn’t going to let him or anyone else stop me. If he was afraid of
the consequences for me, I would just have to prove to him that I could take
care of myself.

Underneath
my bravado, though, I just wanted to see him again. It had been a long time
since I’d felt this way about someone. In fact, Mathis was the only person I’d
ever felt this way about in my entire life! I didn’t want to lose that feeling.
More than anything, I didn’t want to lose Mathis. I didn’t want to lose his
smile, or the way he touched me. I wanted to do silly things with him like hold
hands, share an ice cream cone, watch terrible movies and make fun of all the
characters. I wasn’t going to let him tell me that I couldn’t – I’d show him
that I didn’t need to be protected.

I’d
already missed out on years and years of being with him. He’d disappeared once
without a single word, leaving me hurt and confused, wondering if anything
between us had been real. I didn’t want that to happen again.

I
took out my cell and dialed Mathis’ number, determined to show him that I
wasn’t just some meek little girl who would listen to his every command.
Predictably, it went to voicemail. Frowning, I hit the redial button, proving
to him and myself that he wasn’t getting off that easily. Again, it went
straight to voicemail. Apparently, Mathis was as stubborn as I was – either
that, I mused, or he was in a meeting. Still, knowing Mathis, it was the former
rather than the latter. If this was a battle of wills, I was determined not to
let him win this time.

I
waited half an hour, tapping my fingers as I watched the hands of the clock
inch around, ten times more slowly than usual. After a little time had passed,
I dialed again, hoping that this time he would get the message and pick up. I
got his voicemail again. Almost groaning out loud in frustration, I tossed my
phone aside, thinking out my next move. If he wouldn’t pick up his phone, I’d
just have to see him in person. It dawned on me – I could just visit him at his
office! He couldn’t possibly refuse to see me there. The shares were still in
my name – I could get past the building secretary under that pretext, and wait
outside his office for as long as it took!

I
grinned, pleased with my plan. The thought that I might get to see Mathis in
just a few short hours lifted my spirits considerably, and I felt as if a
little of the power was back in my hands. Part of me felt slightly guilty for
disregarding Mathis’ instructions – after all, he was only trying to keep me
safe – but another part of me was optimistic, glad to finally have a plan of
action after sitting inactive for so long, unable to do anything.

I
wondered briefly if I should bring the gun with me – it might be a good idea.
If I was going to see Mathis, it was theoretically possible that I would catch
the attention of the crime syndicate. I dismissed the idea, however. There
would be little way for them to tell that I was anything to Mathis and besides,
what was I going to do with the gun if I did run across one of them? I was
hardly going to shoot anyone, I reasoned, so it was pointless to have it on me.

I
got into bed feeling more relaxed and peaceful than I had in weeks, and fell
asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.

I
called Mathis first thing in the morning, just in case he decided to pick up. He
didn’t, but this time I had been expecting it. It was hard to keep still. I was
tense with anticipation, excited to see Mathis again. I picked out a
professional outfit so I wouldn’t look out of place going to his office – black
pencil skirt and a pinstriped blouse. I tied my long hair back in a ponytail
and did my make-up, carefully applying an extra layer of mascara to make sure I
looked my best.

***

As
I arrived at the building, I strode up to the front desk confidently, smiling
at the secretary, a young woman with glasses and short blonde hair.

“Hi,
I’m here to see Mathis Côté,” I said.

“Okay
– do you have an appointment?” the secretary asked.

“Not
exactly – but I am a client,” I explained. “My name is Amanda Taylor. Mr. Côté
is responsible for overseeing my investments.” I was proud of how professional
I sounded.

“One
moment, please.”

The
secretary put a call through to Mathis’ office, and I waited eagerly as she
greeted the person on the other end.

“Yes,
Amanda Taylor,” the secretary said. “I see – thank you.”

She
put the phone down, and from the look on her face I could tell things weren’t
going to go the way I had expected.

“I’m
sorry, but Mr. Côté won’t be able to see you today,” she said firmly.

“What?
Are you sure?” I asked stupidly.

“He’s
going to be in meetings all day; he can’t accept any walk-ins.”

“But
he knows me,” I said. “I mean, I’m an important client,” I corrected myself.
“Could you call up again?”

“I’m
sorry, Miss Taylor,” the secretary said again. “You can’t go up. Have a good
day.”

“Wait
– did you talk to Mathis?” I asked. “Let me just talk to him.”

“I’m
afraid that’s not possible,” the secretary insisted. “Now, I’m afraid you’ll
have to leave, or I will be forced to call security.” A hot flush crept over me
as she gave me a stern look, but I wasn’t quite ready to give up.

“But
I’ve been here before – doesn’t anyone recognize me?” I asked desperately. I
was beginning to attract attention, but I ignored it. “My uncle was Mathis’
mentor – I’ve been in here several times.”

The
secretary informed me coolly, “Mr. Côté’s secretary has explicitly informed me
that Mr. Côté will not be able to see you. Now, if you won’t leave the
premises, I’m afraid I will have to have you escorted out.” She raised her hand
to my right.

I
took a sideways glance in the direction she was gesturing, and found myself
looking at two big, beefy men in uniforms who I hadn’t noticed before. One was
standing next to a potted plant and the other one was doing a great impression
of a vending machine – tall and square and, most likely, full of coffee.

“Thanks
for your help,” I said hurriedly, feeling beyond embarrassed as the two human
walls started to gravitate towards me. I quickly picked up my feet and turned
towards the exit.

As
I left the building and leaned against the wall outside, I realized that Mathis
must have anticipated this move. I felt stupid and humiliated, and hot tears of
anger and frustration were threatening to well up in my eyes. I could still
feel everyone’s eyes on me, even though I was alone on the street apart from a
few businessmen heading out on their lunch breaks and paying no attention to me
whatsoever.

I
quickly pushed myself away from the building, trying to put as much distance
between it and me as I possibly could. Being turned away from the office had
made me feel like a grubby, insolent child who wasn’t invited to a friend’s
birthday party.

Mathis
must have expected me to try coming to his office. Perhaps I shouldn’t have
tried calling so many times – he must have known this would be the next thing
I’d try. Now, short of loitering all day outside the office, waiting for him to
come out, I was pretty much out of options. I certainly didn’t want to attract
any more attention, and if anyone was keeping an eye on Mathis’ movements, it
really might attract suspicion if I hung around all day and mobbed him coming
out of work.

Downcast,
defeated, and only just beginning to return to a normal color after being more
embarrassed than I could remember being in my entire life, I made my way back
to my car, eager to be at home and alone so that I could relieve some of my
frustration and anger without seeming like a crazy person.

Every
step seemed like I was walking through Jell-O as I accepted the blunt, unpleasant
reality that there was no way that I would be able to see Mathis again.

Jennifer still
couldn't believe that Brad had actually done it. They'd just been sitting there
at Angelo's, enjoying a nice meal and having a surprisingly pleasant
conversation when he'd said it. The words still echoed in her ears.

“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?”

She just sat there,
mouth hanging open like an idiot, unable to say anything. A proposal from her
ex was the last thing she was expecting after the insanity of the last few
days. However, she couldn't say that it was the only surprising thing Brad had
said that night. It was the other parts of their conversation that convinced
her not to immediately turn him down.  Instead, she told him that she needed
time to think.

The cab ride back
to her apartment was a blur. She sat blankly, staring out of the window
watching rain start to fall—pitter-pattering against the window.  She didn't
even remember giving the cabbie her address, and he had to say “Miss” twice
when they arrived in front of her steps to get her attention.

She hurried up the
stairs to her apartment building, eager to get out of the light rain. She
didn't mind rain when it was warm, but it had taken on that chill that came
with the night. Just before she made it through the doors, it suddenly began to
pour, soaking through her clothes almost instantly. When she stepped inside,
she was greeted by a cold blast from the central air that pumped through the
lobby. By the time she reached her apartment, she was thoroughly chilled.

“Jennifer!”

Despite her
discomfort, Jennifer couldn't help but smile as her roommate, Rachel, hurried
over carrying two fluffy white towels. Jennifer accepted one of the towels
gratefully and began to wipe off her face as Rachel wrapped Jennifer's thick,
dark hair in the other towel. Jennifer peeled off her wet clothes and wrapped
one of the towels around her as she padded over, barefoot, to her bedroom. Once
wrapped in her robe, she returned to the living room to find Rachel waiting
with a Winnie the Pooh mug of hot chocolate.

Jennifer took the
mug, wrapped her hands around it, and let the warmth travel up through her
body.

“What prompted the
mother hen treatment?” She asked as Rachel poured cocoa into a green Seamus the
Leprechaun mug.

“I may not know all
of the details, Jennifer, but I know you well enough to know that something's
been going on over the last few days and I haven't been here for you.”

“Rachel—” Jennifer
started to protest. She knew that her friend had been dealing with her own
issues, most far more important than not being able to choose between two men,
and she wasn't about to let Rachel feel bad about having been gone over the
last few days.

“No.” Rachel shook
her head. “Don't start apologizing.” She raised an eyebrow at Jennifer's look
of surprise. “Come on, Jennifer. I know you. You were going to tell me that I
didn't need to feel obligated to be home for you because you know that I have
more important things on my mind...” She waved her hand like she was shooing a
fly. “And so on, and so forth.”

Jennifer wasn't
sure if she should be grateful that Rachel was trying to spare her guilt or
annoyed that she was so predictable, so she settled on taking a sip of her
cocoa and waiting for Rachel to continue. She knew she wouldn’t have to wait
long.

“I'm not saying
this because I think you expect me to be there. I'm just simply stating a
fact.” Rachel's voice had taken on its big sister quality. “Now, I'm betting
that confused expression on your face means that things just got a bit more
complicated, so why don't we forgo all of the 'I know you would've been here if
you could've' drama and cut straight to you telling me what's got your mind in
such a mess.”

A wave of relief
washed over Jennifer. This was one of the reasons she loved Rachel so much. No
one else could just cut through the bullshit and get down to business half as
well as the woman situating herself at the other end of the couch.

“Do you remember
that night when Brad came over here and I told you about how he'd been when we
were together?”

Rachel's baby blue
eyes darkened as she scowled. “Did that bastard do something again?”

Jennifer gave her
friend a wry smile. “Yeah. He proposed.”

Rachel’s jaw
dropped as her eyes widened. “Wait a minute. When did he do that?” Rachel sat
up straighter, hot chocolate forgotten.

“Tonight,” Jennifer
said as she set aside her mug.

“Wait—wait—back
up.” Rachael shook her head. “How did he have the chance to ask you tonight? I
must’ve missed something big here.”

Jennifer sighed.
“All right, but you have to promise to let me finish before you say anything.”

Rachel mimed
locking her lips and throwing away the key, but Jennifer wasn't so sure that
would help.

“A couple of days
ago, I came home from work and Brad was sitting by the door,” Jennifer began.
“I didn't want to be rude, so I invited him in.” She held up a warning hand as
Rachel opened her mouth. “Let me finish.”

Rachel closed her
mouth and Jennifer continued. “We talked for bit, and he let me debrief about a
bad day I was having at work. He was really sweet and listened so well. We got
to talking and he told me how sorry he was for how things had gotten out of
hand between us. And then he told me that he wanted us to try again.”

“Please tell me...”

“Rachel, you
promised.”

“Sorry.” Rachel
folded her hands over her knee. “Continue.”

“I told him I'd
need some time to think about it. Then, the other day, when you were helping
out your family, I had another bad day at work and needed to talk to someone. I
wasn't going to call you even though I knew you'd be okay with it because my
little drama here wasn't really that important. Really! Problem was, I was
alone here with my thoughts, which you know is never a good idea.” Jennifer
knew Rachel was going to be pissed at what came next, but she forced herself to
keep going. “So I called him.”

“You did what?!”

“Rachel.”

She comically
reenacted her exclamation in silence just to stress her shock, and then
apologized for interrupting.

“He listened so
well the night before, that I thought I'd see if he'd be that way again. Kind
of like a trial run to see if he's really changed.” Jennifer pulled the towel
off of her head and tossed it onto the coffee table. Her hair was still damp,
but she couldn't stand having the towel on her head any longer. She was getting
a little anxious to finish her story. “He was really nice and gave me advice.
He even said that if my boss didn't appreciate me that I should stand up for
myself. Brad's never told me to stand up for myself before.”

“So you went out
with him.” Rachel had apparently decided to finish the story for Jennifer. “And
he proposed.”

Jennifer nodded.

“And what did you
say?” Rachel's voice was carefully neutral, not giving Jennifer even the
slightest hint as to what she was thinking.

“I said I needed
time to think about it.” Jennifer bit her bottom lip. “I'm not sure what to
do.”

“I guess what it
really comes down to,” Rachel spoke slowly. “Is if you believe he's really
changed and if you still love him.”

Jennifer
intertwined her fingers. “He's been really nice and hasn't said anything mean
to me at all.” An image flashed into her mind of when Brad had seen Philip and
her together at the hotel, but she dismissed it. That had been a
misunderstanding. “And he explained that before, when we were together, he
hadn't really meant to say such horrible things to me, that it was all just
miscommunication.”

Rachel leaned
towards Jennifer and took the younger woman's hands in her own. “Do you truly
believe that?” There was no accusation in her voice, but Jennifer could see the
shadow in Rachel's eyes.

“I don't know,”
Jennifer admitted. “I want to. I mean, it wasn't all bad when we were
together.” She needed Rachel to understand, to know that Brad wasn't a monster.
“He chose me when he could have had any girl he wanted. He helped me get out of
the little town we both thought we'd be stuck in forever. We were good together
for years.”

“Okay,” Rachel
nodded. She paused, considering her next words. “But did the good really
outweigh the bad? Maybe I don't know the specifics, but it seems to me like he
must've gotten pretty awful, especially towards the end of your relationship.”

“But if he didn't
really mean it...” Jennifer held on to that hope. If Brad hadn't actually meant
those things he'd said, if he'd really just been trying to help her but hadn't
said things right, then all of those bad memories didn't count. Right?

“Are you willing to
take that chance?” Rachel's voice was soft. “Think about it, Jennifer. Think
about what it was like just before you guys broke up. Think about how being
with him made you feel.”

Memories rushed
forward, one right after the other. Brad's comments about her weight, about the
way she dressed. Suspecting that he'd been with other women. His constant
run-downs about her work. How she wasn't good enough, pretty enough, smart
enough... Jennifer felt the tears burn against her eyelids, and then, suddenly,
Rachel was there, her arms wrapping around Jennifer and pulling her from the
past.

“Shh, hey, it's
okay.” Rachel smoothed down Jennifer's rain-tangled hair. “I just want you to
be happy.” She pressed her lips against the top of Jennifer's head. “Okay? I
don't want you to get hurt.”

“I think that's
going to be a risk no matter what I choose,” Jennifer muttered.

“True,” Rachel
agreed. “Any time you open up your heart, you risk getting hurt. But I will say
this. If any guy hurts you on purpose or not, I'll cut off his balls and serve
them for dinner.”

Jennifer laughed,
wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. Leave it to Rachel to come up with
a way to bring humor into the situation. At least, she hoped Rachel was joking.
There were some things Jennifer wouldn't put past her feisty roommate. “Thanks,
Rachel.”

“That's what I'm
here for, sweetie.” Rachel stood. “Just know that whatever you decide, I'll
support you. And if you need to talk or yell or just have a shoulder to cry on,
I'm always here.” She smiled down at Jennifer. “Don't ever not call me because
I'm doing some sort of family emergency thing. You're family too.”

Jennifer felt tears
of a different kind fill her eyes and Rachel hurried away before things got
weepy. Having been raised in a family of rough and tough boys, 'chick-flick'
moments weren't really her thing. She was great at advice and listening, but
when it came to sharing something heart-felt, with Rachel, things were
straightforward and then over.

Jennifer picked up
her mug and drained the last of the now-lukewarm chocolate. She felt better but
still a little cold. A nice long soak in the tub might be just what she needed
to clear her head. Once she could think more clearly, maybe the answer would
present itself.