A Bad Boy is Good to Find - By Jennifer Lewis Page 0,5
smiled as he kissed the corner of her mouth. “Why do I always smile when you do that?”
“Because you love me.” He said it simply.
“I do love you. I love you more than I ever thought possible.” She pushed his messy hair out of his eyes, and he smiled too. He lay next to her on the tangled sheets, head propped on his elbow, gorgeous muscles defined even in the scant light.
“Con?” She paused. Was it her imagination or did a tiny crease appear between his eyebrows. Maybe he’d picked up on her odd tone of voice.
“Yes, babe?”
I’m not rich any more.
She hesitated. Not sure what words to use. None seemed to sum up the magnitude of what had happened or to put it in terms that made sense.
“My father said I couldn’t marry you.”
“And what did you say?” There was definitely a furrow between his brows.
“I said I love you, and we’re getting married tomorrow.”
The crease eased a bit. “You had me worried there. I thought you might be about to break my heart.”
“I’d never do that.” Lizzie swallowed. “But about the money…”
“What about it?” He looked relaxed again, a smile spreading across his mouth.
He wouldn’t care about the money—would he?
“It’s gone.” She looked right at him as she said it, wanting him to understand.
Con pushed up higher on his elbow, stared at her like he was trying to make sense of it. “What do you mean?” His smile faded a little.
“My dad gambled in the stock market and lost it all.”
“But your grandfather left the money to you. In your name.”
He did look worried. A saw blade ratchet in her stomach reminded her she’d eaten no dinner. Maybe that’s why she felt lightheaded.
“He did, but I gave my father power of attorney. He’s always managed it for me.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “He’s being indicted.”
“Indicted for what?” Con’s voice had lost its velvet softness.
“Securities fraud. He says he’ll be convicted.”
Con stared at her. Her breathing became shallow, and she struggled to keep it inaudible. Suddenly chilly, she fumbled with the sheet and pulled it over herself. Con had to move to free it from under his body, and she could see tension in the taut six-pack of his stomach.
Panic snuck through her as the frown deepened on his handsome face.
“I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.” He touched her chin. “We’ll get it sorted out tomorrow.”
“I don’t think so.” Her voice was a breathy whisper. “He said my financial advisor was in on it.”
“So how much is left?”
“I don’t know. Let me check the balance online. Gosh, what’s my password, I don’t even remember it. I must have it written down somewhere.”
The glowing laptop screen illuminated their faces as grim reality sunk in. Not only was there no actual money in her brokerage account, but someone had authorized margin loans worth more than thirty million dollars. The margin had been called and all existing stocks dumped at market price two days ago. With two million still owed.
“Holy shit.” Con chewed his finger in a way she’d never seen him do before.
“My job will be gone too, I suppose. We’ll have to make it on your salary until I find something new.”
Con looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language.
“I know it won’t be easy.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “But we’ll be fine. I’ll have to move out of the apartment since it belongs to my father, but we can find a place of our own. We can live frugally, start saving…”
A new sense of resolve filled the odd hollowness she’d felt since leaving her parents’ house. Maybe in a weird way this would actually be for the best. “I don’t have expensive tastes, I never have. I actually like the idea of living like a normal person. Of having car payments and mortgage payments and having to save for vacations.”
Con still stared at the laptop screen, his lips slightly parted. “Car payments?” he rasped at last.
“You know, buying stuff like regular people do, rather than plunking down forty thousand in cash. I know it sounds rude to ask, but how much do you earn?”
“What?” Con’s dark eyes stared at her, uncomprehending.
“Your salary, what is it?”
“I don’t have a salary.” His voice had a strange sound to it.
“You get paid on a project-by-project basis?”
“Kind of...um, yeah.” He raked a hand through his hair and stood up. The bedside light glazed his firm muscles as he crossed the room, cursed aloud, then strode back. He seemed