The Bachelor Auction (The Bachelors of Arizona Book 1) (20 page)

H
e managed one day, one day of hell before Brock packed up his shit and drove into the city. The ball was the following evening, and he needed to talk to his grandfather. He still wasn’t sure how he was going to break the news or how he was still going to keep everyone happy and keep Jane. He just knew he had to do it.

Traffic was hell, so the drive took forever.

And by the time he made it to the Wellington offices, he was advised that his grandfather was out.

He wasn’t given a return time, or an address where his grandfather could be found, so he went home.

Only to find his brothers sitting in his apartment drinking.

Well, at least he was home.

“Dipshit!” Bentley opened his arms wide. “So, how was it? Tell me everything. Did you make love under the moonlight? Take long walks with Buttercup? Tease her mercilessly under the stars?” He smirked. “You’re welcome, by the way. How did grandfather take it?”

Brock was silent.

Brant rolled his eyes. “Told you he wouldn’t do it.”

Bentley looked like his head was going to explode. “You bastard! You had her! A beautiful, nice, funny woman who actually
knows
how to do laundry, and you passed her up? For what? A model?”

“Do I know you at all anymore?” Brant glared at Bentley. “You would do the exact same thing.”

“Right, but I’m me. This is Brock!”

They both glared at him.

“I haven’t had a chance to talk to Grandfather because he’s not in the office and not returning my calls. So I came home to shower and think about how best not to give the old man a heart attack when I tell him I’m not going through with the auction. I can’t do it. I won’t.”

“And Jane? How does she feel about all of this?” Bentley asked again, his voice grating on his every last nerve.

“She’s probably freaking out over why I haven’t called her yet, but I had to close the house down, traffic took fucking forever, and by the time I was able to even look at my phone it was dead.” Brock stepped around his brothers and made his way into the bathroom, bracing his hands against the granite countertop. He shook his head. “Why are you guys here, anyway?” He glanced at their reflections in the mirror. Both of them looked guilty.

Bentley’s throat worked into a tight swallow. “Grandfather said, and I quote, ‘You’re next,’ so we’re hiding….”

“Again.” Bennett sighed.

Brock’s lips twitched in amusement. He would have laughed had his heart not still been busy cracking inside his chest with every breath he took. He just wanted Jane. And in order to hold her in his arms he needed to figure his way out of this clusterfuck.

One of the twin’s phones went off.

“Holy shit.” Bentley breathed, and dropped his phone onto the glass table before running over to the TV, grabbing the remote, and turning it on.

Stunned, Brock could only stare as the news station showed pictures of him kissing Jane at the ranch. What was worse, he could see her name splashed all over the screen.

This image was followed by the sight of her horrible sisters.

His heart clenched and then a righteous anger, swift and strong, slammed into his body, making his blood boil and his teeth clench.

He
’d pursued
her
.

And yet the reporters were making her out to be some sort of social climbing whore. The more he watched the sicker he felt.

“Turn that shit off. Now,” he roared, grabbing his phone. “Fuck!”

“What?” Brant stood.

“My phone’s dead.”

“Use mine.” Brant tossed his.

“I don’t have her number memorized!” Brock yelled, chucking the phone back at his brother. “Damn it!” He kicked the sofa. Repeatedly.

“Calm down.” Bentley held out his hands. “We can figure this out.” He motioned for Brock to sit.

“This is bad.” Leave it to Brant to state the obvious. “But we can fix it…”

“No,” Brock said in a hollow voice. “I need to fix it. There is no ‘we.’”

Bentley scowled. “Do you really think we’re going to let you go through this alone? When there’s a woman you love out there probably crying her eyes out because she thinks you’ve abandoned her—”

“Not helping,” Brant said in a low voice.

“Let me finish!” Bentley snapped. “Brock.” He knelt down in front of his brother. “Think. You’re the brains behind most of Grandfather’s asinine ideas; there has to be a way out.”

Brock sucked in a breath as the pressure of his family settled heavily on his shoulders. It was time to be honest. With both of them. “The auction,” He swallowed. “It’s for the shareholders.”

“Come again?” Bentley frowned. “What the hell do they have to do with anything?”

“Everything,” Brant answered for Brock, then took a seat next to him on the couch, his expression grim. “They’re pushing Grandfather out, aren’t they?”

“How’d you know?” Brock asked.

“Just call it intuition.” Brant looked away. Clearly he was hiding something but it wasn’t the time or place to ask how or why. “So, the auction is what? A way to make everyone happy?”

“Good press.” Brock stood and began to pace the hardwood floor. “The media’s obviously going wild over the idea; we’re bringing money in for research and finally playing nice with the Titus family. We’re reminding the shareholders about how much the press loves the Wellington name and providing free publicity for the company. It shows we’re team players and that the company isn’t going to go to shit when Grandfather leaves it to us.” He paused. “All of us.”

Bentley paled, while Brant kept looking away.

Was it guilt that kept the twins silent? Or something more?

The room was thick with tension.

“Wait!” Bentley jumped to his feet. “Titus Enterprises is sponsoring the auction with us? Right?”

“And?” Brock shrugged. “Grandfather’s been pining after them for years. They’re basically our counterpart, only the grandsons have actually settled down and made something of themselves, whereas we’re all still single and you guys manage to become front page news every weekend.”

Brant rolled his eyes. “The fact that Jake Titus is happily married with kids is enough to make me want to throw up a little. The guy was worse than me and Bentley combined. Besides, that marriage doesn’t count until he’s made it past six years.”

But Bentley had a knowing look on his face, his eyes wide. “The point is that Nadine Titus has always been known to have a soft spot for love stories and matchmaking, right?”

“Hunh?” Brock was even more confused.

A smirk crossed Brant’s face. “I think that’s a solid plan.”

“Wait? What am I missing?” Brock stopped pacing.

“Everything, brother.” Bentley slapped him on the back. “Damn near everything.”

“Will it save Jane?”

Bentley braced Brock with both hands. “And you.”

J
ane woke up to her phone going off. She nearly fell out of bed in an attempt to grab it, thinking maybe, just maybe it was Brock.

Instead it was a text from Essence, saying that she and Esmerelda had stayed the night at a friend’s house and not to worry.

The thing about it, though? She wasn’t worried. Not at all. She’d stopped worrying the minute her sisters had proved they cared about themselves more than her, since she was left, as usual, to pick up the pieces. The press hadn’t left her house since news had broken that she was back home, which just so happened to be a few hours after Brock’s grandfather left.

Newspapers and TV shows wanted to interview her.

She could understand her sisters wanting to dodge the press, but honestly, leaving had just given them an excuse to do just what they’d normally do.

They’d left a mess in the house.

They’d had no regard for her feelings.

They’d manipulated.

And if she needed more proof of how little concern they actually felt for her, she had all of the text conversations from when she was at the ranch.

Her heart slammed against her chest.

The ranch.

Brock.

She still hadn’t heard from him, but at the same time she refused to believe things were over.

Sighing, she was just ready to put her phone back down when it rang.

Fumbling with the device, she pressed answer and had it to her ear. “Jane? Jane, is that you?”

Esmeralda’s voice may as well be nails on a chalk board. “Hey,” Jane answered.

“I’m still pissed at you.” Esmeralda sighed. “But, whatever. I just wanted to let you know that we forgive you.”

“Forgive me?” Jane rolled her eyes. Was her sister serious? “For what?”

“Leaving us.”

“I left to take a job!” Jane slammed her hand against her forehead. “Because that’s how I make money!” Were they really that dense?

“Right, but you didn’t answer your phone, left the laundry, didn’t even think to grocery shop. You know I hate going to crowded superstores like Walmart! I had a traumatic experience there! You know that!”

Jane bit her tongue. It was more that Esmerelda just hated doing anything that she thought was beneath her—grocery shopping fit that bill.

“Anyway, we forgive you and we actually wanted to do you a favor. We thought it would be fun to get ready for the ball tonight.”

“Did you say
ball
?”

“Yeah, why?”

“The ball that costs ten thousand dollars a plate? That ball?” Jane had a familiar sick punch to the gut. They didn’t have the money for it—not at all.

“Are there any other balls where rich men are getting auctioned off?” Esmeralda laughed. “Of course that ball.”

“But you don’t have that kind of money!”

Esmeralda was silent and then sighed. “Look, I took out a new credit card. God knows you won’t be able to marry the guy after you publicly shamed yourself like a whore. Besides, we need money!”

“Esmeralda!” She fought to keep the tears in. “How could you do that? Why? It’s just a party! We don’t have the money!”

“But you made money at the big job you were just on, right?” Esmeralda laughed. “We’ll pay for the rest on the credit card. All we really need is your portion.”

“My…portion,” Jane said, fuming. “I don’t owe you guys anything.”

“You took the job to support the family, right?” Esmeralda said plainly. “So support the family. Plus, think of the networking Essence and I could do at a place like that! We could get so many clients, meet so many people. Really, you would be doing it for us. For all of us. After all, didn’t Daddy want us to work together as a team?”

“About that.” Jane glanced around her room—at the memories that filled it, the walls with posters of bands and singers, the stickers that still littered her ceiling. “I think I’d rather fly solo.”

Esmeralda was silent, then said, “But we love you.”

“No.” Jane closed her eyes as tears burned. “You love you.”

“Jane!” Esmeralda shouted. “Don’t do this to us!”

“I’m sorry. I just…I can’t. I can’t support you spending money, my hard-earned money, on something frivolous. From here on out you’re on your own.”

“You’re a selfish bitch!” Esmeralda yelled. “No wonder he’s still going through with the auction. Who would want a frigid virgin for—”

Jane hung up the phone before she said something she could never take back.

Her childhood room suddenly felt too small, choking the life out of her. A memory surfaced of her father.

“Knock, knock.” Daddy walked in with an apron over his work clothes. He held a tray in his hand, and a rose was laid across the plate of eggs and French toast. A giant cup of coffee sat on the far right side. “I figured you’d need this.”

She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded her head and looked away.

“They don’t deserve you, sweetheart,” he whispered once he set the tray on the bed and tilted her chin toward him. “Girls are fickle creatures. I love all three of you, but sometimes, we say things that are hurtful. Things we don’t mean. Promise that you’ll see through that and try to keep the family together.” He coughed; the tray trembled in his hands as he sat on her bed. “Just promise to try. Family is all we have.”

“I promised to keep everyone together,” Jane whispered aloud as the memory faded.

But was that what her dad had meant? To be a maid to her own family? No. And she’d already made her decision to stand her ground. So, with shaking hands, she grabbed a suitcase and started packing.

B
rock frowned at the text.

She was late.

He tried not to be irritated. After all, he needed her if their plan was going to work.

Brock was checking his phone again when the door to his limo flew open, revealing a flurry of leopard print and expensive perfume. She flashed him a knowing smile and slid across the smooth leather seat. Her bright red lipstick was like a homing beacon in the dark car.

“Well,” she huffed. “I’m listening. What exactly do you need from me?”

Everything
. He leaned back and took a deep breath then faced the one woman he knew could help keep his family in charge of Wellington, Inc.

But this wasn’t business.

No. This was personal.

Brock exhaled and faced the one woman he knew who could easily destroy a man with a simple snap of her fingers, and said, “I love her.”

Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline and an excited smile crossed over her soft features. “Really?”

“Yes.” He swallowed. “So damned much I can’t lose her. But I also love my grandfather.”

“Which leaves us at an impasse.” She tapped her chin with a long red fingernail and smirked. “I do love a good romance.”

Didn’t he know it. Rumors had been rampant over the last few years on how she’d set up her own grandsons and basically forced them into blissful marriages, all without missing a beat.

Which was why he’d come to her.

Wellington, Inc. needed her partnership in order to please the shareholders, and if she agreed to help him with Jane he’d owe her. This would give her more power than she already had, but he knew she’d like that, and he was betting it would make her more willing to form an alliance with Wellington, Inc., if only because she’d feel she had the upper hand.

Besides. He would do anything. Anything.

For Jane.

“What will you give me if I help you?” She sobered, her expression suddenly all business.

Brock met her stare and paused, then said, “A damned good show.”

At that she threw back her head and laughed. “Like grandfather, like grandson?”

“I’d like to think I’m less stuffy…”

“Oh honey.” Her voice dropped into a husky whisper. “You have absolutely no idea.”

Yeah, that was too much information.

“So you’ll help me win the woman I love?”

“Oh, I’ll help you all right, and I’ll do it out of the goodness of my heart.” She patted him on the shoulder. “And for the simple fact that while I despise your family as competition, I would be bored to tears without it—plus, that grandfather of yours.” She rubbed her hands together and smirked. “He’s quite…wonderful, isn’t he?”

“When he isn’t trying to control everyone and everything? Yes.” Brock spoke without thinking.

“Oh honey.” She patted his hand. “That’s just us grandparents worrying about the future. Besides, something tells me that my involvement will make him happier than you could possibly imagine.”

“Oh?” That piqued his interest. “How so?”

Her smile was warm. “Because it will make you happy—and despite what you think—that’s all he’s ever wanted.”

Brock didn’t know what to say to that.

She seemed to pick up on his hesitation and shrugged. “You’ll have to make sure the media believes it. I hope you haven’t been having any secret rendezvous with the girl, or texts since you’ve returned from the ranch that they can grab a hold of.”

He exhaled. At least he’d done that right. “No, no. I’ve been waiting until I spoke with you. Until you agreed.”

She harrumphed. “Well, now that I have, it’s just going to get harder. No direct contact.” She drew out the word ‘direct.’ “Until the night of, got it? No funny business. The last thing we need is for this to look like a set-up.”

“I swear. I’ll do anything for her.”

“I know.” She winked. “That’s what makes this so romantic.” She paused. “You do realize the favors I’ll have to owe people, the negotiations that will have to take place in order for this to fully work?”

Brock swallowed back his anxiety. “I do.”

“Well, I have been known to manipulate in my day…I guess this just means I’m back in the game.”

He suddenly had the sinking feeling that he’d re-created a monster.

“Your grandfather…”

“Leave him out of this,” Brock snapped.

“Hmm.” She merely stared at him. Hard. As if trying to figure him out. “You know, he isn’t as bad as he seems.”

Brock let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “I know, I just. I can’t lose her.”

The corners of her mouth worked into a bright smile. “Then leave it to me. Trust me to do what I do best.”

“And what’s that?”

“Why…” She winked. “Everything, of course.”