Unbidden Love (Book Five of the Bidden Series) (9 page)

Natalie leaned over from behind Joe’s shoulder to look at the office space listings he had pulled up.

“I think this one is the best option,” he said as he switched browser tabs. The skyscraper was elegant, and very familiar looking.

“Isn’t that-“

“The Fitson offices?” he answered for her. “Yes. The fourth floor is available to rent. It is large enough to accommodate our entire staff with room to grow. We could have clients check in at our very own reception space rather than in our foyer.”

The idea had merit. They could hire an actual receptionist to receive guests, rather than leaving the job to Shane or Amelia. “It is a great location, and all of our employees are familiar with it,” she conceded.

“There is the obvious cost of furnishing the space outright for our use, but I will not have an idea as to cost until we take a tour next week.”

“Next week? Did you schedule it already?”

Joe glanced up at her for the first time since she arrived, and said, “I assumed you would be on board with it.”

“It is definitely worth looking into. Amelia,” Natalie called, turning to her assistant, “could you please find some catalogues for suppliers of office furniture? We
cannot
put our Ikea furniture in that building.”

“I am one step ahead of you!” the young girl proudly announced as she grabbed for a stack of what looked like magazines in the center of the table. “I took the liberty when you mentioned it as a possibility a few weeks ago.”

Before Natalie could thank her, Amelia excused herself to take a call on the office line. Natalie took a seat between Quinn and Joe and started flipping through the glossy catalogues.

“I still have the paint swatches from when we moved in here,” Quinn announced in Joe’s direction. Natalie bit her lip to keep from laughing. The war over how to decorate their home office when they first moved into the penthouse was notorious. She still regretted not being in the office the day Joe pinned something with an armadillo head to Quinn’s carefully curated Pinterest board.

“Ugh,” he groaned. “That can be your project. God knows if I tried to help you would just tell me I was wrong anyway.”

Natalie glanced up at them as they continued their feud, a smile finally splitting her face. They were without a doubt the most interesting people to work with. She could not imagine partnering with anyone else and having half as much fun as they did.

Amelia caught Natalie’s attention then, a concerned look marring her pretty face. She held the phone to her chest and leaned down to whisper in Natalie’s ear.

“Miss Harlow, they need you to come downstairs to sign for a delivery.”

“Just have it sent up. I will sign for it.”

“Well that’s the thing. The item being delivered… it cannot be brought upstairs.”

Natalie’s face scrunched in confusion. “Like, at all? What is it?”

“They would not identify the item being delivered, except to say that you need to be present with photo identification to sign for the insurance.”

“
What?!
” Natalie caught Joe and Quinn’s suddenly curious glances at her as she stood and made for the doorway.

“What is going on?” Quinn called as she followed, Joe right behind her.

“I am not sure. Amelia says there is a delivery I have to be present to sign for. Joe we are not expecting anything that requires an insurance policy, are we?”

“Of course not.”

The three of them plus Amelia piled into the elevator and descended down to the lobby, whispering their guesses as to what the item being delivered was.

“Did they happen to mention who the delivery is from?” Quinn asked Amelia.

“No, Miss Potter. Just that it was for Natalie.”

“Not Gallo Harlow and Associates?” Joe asked.

Amelia shook her head.

The murmurs of a gathered crowd greeted the four as the elevator opened onto the ground level of the building. The valet, doorman, and receptionist were congregated together along with a handful of men in plain black suits, each of them looking to another suited man in particular with rapt attention.

“Miss Harlow!” the receptionist called out upon seeing Natalie. “There she is.”

The head suit turned and offered Natalie an immediate smile. “Natalie Harlow, I presume?” he greeted her with a firm handshake. He had a very pronounced English accent that made him sound as though he were the King of England.

“Yes. Though I understand you require identification to prove that?”

The man’s smile grew, his bright white teeth practically glowing. “For insurance purposes yes. However I have no doubt in mind you are the woman I am looking for. My name is Thomas Bowles. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Harlow.”

“This is quite a lot of pomp and circumstance for a package delivery, Thomas.”

“A package! My goodness, if only!” His laugh was almost cartoonishly British, and for a moment she contemplated the thought that maybe there was some kind of joke at play. “I am afraid the pomp and circumstance is not only appropriate but necessary, and quite frankly pales in comparison to the
package
being delivered.”

“Um, Nat?” Quinn said from just behind where Natalie stood with Thomas Bowles. “I think you are going to want to have a seat.”

“What is it-“ The words got stuck in Natalie’s throat before she could even finish the sentence as she saw the
package
being delivered.

“My dear Miss Harlow,” Thomas began in reverent tones, “may I present to you the special edition Bugatti Veyron Bleu Centenaire. Compliments of Mister James Fitzgerald.”

Natalie’s heart nearly stopped beating.

“I have procured many rare cars for collectors over the years, but I can honestly say I have never once seen a man spend a million dollars just to tell a woman that he loves her.”

Two large tears fell from Natalie’s eyes as she took in the sight before her. “This is not a million dollar
I-love-you
, Mister Bowles. This is a million dollar
Fuck-you
.”

Natalie stared at the supercar in stunned silence. The car itself was gorgeous - an all blue body with a two-tone finish in both matte and gloss with a pristine cream colored leather interior.

Quinn’s hand covered her mouth as she gasped. “Oh my God, Natalie. Is this-“

“Uh-huh.”

“From him?”

“Yep.”

“What is going on?” Joe asked.

“James Fitzgerald just submitted his nomination for the award of Actual Worst Ex-Boyfriend,” Quinn said, barely-constrained outrage in every syllable.

“This is from James?” Joe gasped.

“I beg your pardon,” Thomas Bowles interrupted, “but did you say ‘million dollar fuck you’?”

“
A million dollars
?” Quinn and Joe gasped at the same time.

Natalie turned to her two gobsmacked friends with pleading eyes. “Can you guys go upstairs, please? I will handle this…
situation
.”

Joe took Natalie by the crook of her arm and led her away from the commotion the Bugatti was creating. His warm eyes were brimming with concern. “Does this have anything to do with that bet he made you? About forgiving you?”

“Let’s talk about it later. Please just go upstairs. I do not want this to disrupt our day any more than it already has.”

Joe searched her eyes before pulling her into his arms, embracing her in a protective hug. “I have never liked Fitzgerald, but this is a dick move I did not think he was capable of.” He kissed at her forehead before releasing her from his arms. “You deserve better than this, Red.”

“Yeah, I do.” Natalie turned her attention back to Thomas Bowles as Joe, Quinn, and Amelia retreated for the elevator. The British man’s once bright face was now cast with doubt. Clearly he had no idea of the true meaning behind the
gift
. “What do you need me to sign?”

Once her signature had dried on the paperwork confirming transfer of ownership and an insurance agreement, Thomas placed the car’s key fob in her palm and sullenly wished her a good rest of her day. She was left to contend with the building manager, who agreed to temporarily rent her a private parking stall reserved for tenants who required extra protection for their fancy cars. She was going to have to figure out other arrangements.

“On second thought-“ she called out to the valet she had given the key fob to.

James was bereft of any sense of finality when he stepped onto the plane departing from New York that morning. Disembarking many hours later onto Santa Barbara soil, however, had the desired effect. Everything from the temperate weather to the ocean-laced breeze that swayed through the palm trees and flowering bougainvillea set him immediately at ease. He was eager to finally call the estate in Montecito his home, having never truly had one of his own before. Neither New York nor Los Angeles felt like home, not even when every stop in between was spent living out of a suitcase in a hotel room. At 34 years old he finally had almost everything he ever wanted.

“Frankie did you grab all of your things from the plane?” James asked as he checked his phone for any missed messages.

“Everything but my suitcase!” she beamed as she bounced around his feet. Being cooped up in a plane all day made her restless. “Can we go to the beach, Daddy?”

“We can go to the beach tomorrow, Frankie,” Celine promised as she held baby Colin in her arms.

James crouched down to Frankie’s height and ran his fingers through her unruly hair. “There will be plenty of time for the beach, Buddy. I promise.”

“Can we at least go swimming?” she asked as she swatted his hand away from her head before he could make her hair even more tangled than it already was.

“Did you pack a swimsuit in your suitcase?”

Frankie nodded enthusiastically. “Yes.”

“Then we can go swimming.”

It was chaos, but with the help of the pilot, the flight attendant, and their driver, they transferred their travel items from the plane to the rented Range Rover and were quickly on their way towards their new home, and their fresh beginning.

“I am so tired,” Celine sighed as her head fell back against her seat. James offered her a kind smile before returning to his phone to glance through his email. “Caroline and I have a bet going about you.”

“Oh?”

“About how long we think it will be before you are off of leave and back at work.”

James looked up at Celine, phone still in hand. “Is that so? What’s your guess?”

“A week. Though I am starting to wonder if you ever truly went on leave to begin with.” She cast her eyes down at the phone for emphasis, and James hastily stuffed it back into his pocket.

“I have worked almost every day for the past ten years. Some habits are harder to break than others.”
You of all people should know that
, he added in his mind. The unkind thought did not surprise him, but he immediately regretted it anyway. He was reminded of her infidelity every day, especially when he looked at Frankie’s beautiful face. Thankfully he reserved all of his anger about Frankie’s paternity for Celine exclusively. Biology could never change that Frankie was
his
daughter.

“Try not to make Sunday with your father and my sister all about work, please. We are supposed to be having a relaxing change of lifestyle. Promise me you will try?”

James glanced at Frankie, who had fallen asleep the moment the car left the airport. This move was for her and Colin. Montecito was a fresh start for them as a family, a chance to be together under one roof for every birthday, holiday, and moment in between. The alternative - seeing Frankie on a set schedule and not whenever he wanted - was no longer acceptable for him. “I will try,” he conceded.

Celine laced her fingers in his hand and smiled, exhaustion crinkling her eyes. “Good.”

Conversation lapsed into a more casual discussion of where to go to dinner that evening, and before he knew it they were pulling into the long entryway of Villa Montecito. The idea of
home
was finally starting to hit him.

“James, are you expecting company?”

“No?” He glanced up in the direction she was looking, his eyes growing wide at the sight of a blue Bugatti Veyron parked in front of the house.

Any other day, Natalie might have expected her resolve to weaken on the drive from Los Angeles to Montecito. But something in the way the car moved at the will of her foot on the accelerator made her resolve stronger. Even in the afternoon traffic, drivers parted to let her pass, if only to get a closer look at the stunning and rare Bugatti. Once the Pacific ocean greeted her from the West in Ventura she picked up speed, easily outpacing every car she passed, and blessedly avoiding any Highway Patrol. When she arrived at Villa Montecito she checked the time display against Alice’s message detailing James and Celine’s travel itinerary. She did not have to wait long before she spotted the black Range Rover pulling up behind her in the driveway, and by then her resolve was stone.

Natalie watched from her side mirror as the rear passenger door opened on the Range Rover and James stepped out, the indeterminate look on his face half obscured by a pair of Wayfarers. Stress radiated off him as he reached his hand into the car to help Frankie climb down out of it. Celine followed suit on the other side - a swaddled baby held close to her chest - and cast her eyes in the Bugatti’s direction. She called out something to James but Natalie couldn’t hear a word of it, or his response to her. Their belongings were unloaded from the SUV with the help of the driver, with James ushering him, Celine and the kids into the enormous home.

Several uneventful minutes passed before the driver of the Range Rover exited from the front door to return to the vehicle. He paid no attention to Natalie or the Bugatti as he rounded the cul-de-sac of the driveway and headed out the way he had come in. After another three minutes passed Natalie opened her door and stepped out of the high profile vehicle, taking in the fresh scent of the ocean as she leaned against the car, waiting. An afterthought had her wishing she had changed out of the silk crepe shift dress and high wedge sandals, even if they were complemented by the gorgeous weather. She kept her eyes cast toward the Santa Ynez mountains in the East, rather than on the gargantuan estate and its second floor terrace off the master suite behind her to the West.

Only a few short months ago, James was talking proposals and plans for their future in the very spot she was now standing. At the time she thought it looked like something out of a fantasy, that real people did not live in places like Villa Montecito.
I guess I was wrong
, she chuckled to herself. She knew James Fitzgerald lived in a completely different world the first night she met him, and Villa Montecito was just further evidence of that fact.

She heard the sound of the front door opening again, and someone’s footsteps along the gravel headed in her direction. Judging by the speed and intent of each footstep, she guessed James had finally come out to acknowledge her presence. He stopped just within the boundaries of her peripheral vision, and when she looked up his blue-green eyes were staring intently at her, his typical intensity on full display.

“Hello, James,” she greeted.

“Natalie.”

You and I have a problem, James
. The words were on the tip of her tongue, ready to be spoken. Yet even in spite of her feelings towards him, in that moment she did not want to be unkind. It had been months since they saw each other, and one of the last things he said to her before they made love for the very last time, was that if their relationship were to be altered beyond repair he wanted one final happy memory of her. Then it all changed.

“This is a beautiful car,” she said as she caressed her hand across the gloss finish of the roof. “I would say thank you, but you and I both know it is not a gift.”

His lips tightened into a straight line as he crossed his arms over his chest. “A deal is a deal.”

‘If when the time comes it turns out that you’re right - that I’ll somehow love you less or not at all once I’ve found out what awful thing or things you’ve done - I’ll buy you a Bugatti.’

“Yes, well, there are less cruel ways to tell someone you no longer love them.”

“I don’t know, Harlow, you set the bar pretty high. Should I have slept with someone you despise instead?”

Natalie cursed through her breath and shook her head. She was determined not to give in to a fight like a petty teenager. “I am not here to fight with you, James. You made your point with the Bugatti and now you are going to take it back.”

“No,” he said flatly, defiance resounding in the simple word as though it were a command.

“Yes, you are!” She took a small step toward him and slid her sunglasses back into her hair. “I will take the car to Fitson and leave the keys and paperwork with your father if I have to, but you
will
take this car back.”

“The car is yours, Natalie. You don't want it? Sell it.”

“Sell a million dollar car?” Any other time she might have laughed at the ridiculous notion. But James was not joking, and she would not have found it funny even if he
were
joking.

“Why not? My money paid off your student loans and then helped legitimize your agency with Joe Gallo. Sell the car and buy yourself a nice house.”

Natalie’s hand cracked across James’ cheek before she even realized her feet were closing the space between them. A split-second later pain radiated from her palm through her forearm like a match to gasoline. She could still feel the small bristles of hair from the one-day growth on his face that felt like sandpaper against her fingertips. James’ eyes watered and widened with incredulous rage. The right side of his face was already pink with the rush of blood from where her hand made hard contact. His chest heaved as he stared her down, but she doubted the red he saw even compared to the crimson staining her vision.

“Maybe I will sell it. Then I can be like you and buy a big house to hide away in and pretend my life is exactly how I want it to be. But first I think I will drive the car to Audra’s house and let her fuck me in it while you sit here in your castle pretending that you are pleased with the way you have conducted yourself.”

“You-“ he began with a step toward her, but was swiftly cut off.

“You have made your declaration, James: You no longer love me. As far as I am concerned you and I are done. You could have behaved like an adult, but instead you chose to hurt me in the deepest, most disrespectful way you could think of. And now that I have seen your true colors I am glad to be rid of you.”

Natalie turned on her heel to stalk back to the car, nearly making it to the driver-side door before James grabbed her elbow and returned her to face him.

“Natalie-“

“No!” she said, leaning as far away as her body would allow from within the confines of his harsh embrace. “I never should have gone back to the penthouse with you after you found me in the garden.”

The ridge of his brows cut so deeply into his eyes it darkened the rest of his face. “What?!”

“The night we met. I should have refused the envelope with your money in it and found someone to drive me home. You told me you would ruin me, but you never once said you would try to break me. Now let me go!”

The minute his grip lessened enough she slipped out of it and crawled into the Bugatti, taking off in the direction of the exit before she could so much as put her seatbelt on. Once she reached the gate at the end of the long entryway she clicked the belt into place and looked back at the house in the rear-view mirror, knowing in her gut it would be the last time she ever stepped foot on Villa Montecito, or near James Fitzgerald.