Merger to Marriage (Boardrooms and Billi - By Addison Fox Page 0,10
than anyone.”
“Look. I need your help.”
“What do you need?”
“A hundred thousand.”
“No.” He should have been surprised at the sum, but it was actually less than he’d anticipated. Was it possible she’d narrowed her focus and was aiming for smaller cons?
“Why not?”
He sighed, the reality of their relationship an endless disappointment. He’d spent his youth believing that someday he’d get far enough away from her that she’d never find him, but the exact opposite had happened. She knew exactly where to show up, each and every time she wanted something. “I’m not fronting whatever scam you’ve got going.”
“It’s not a scam. It’s a legitimate business opportunity.”
“Save the sales pitch for your next mark. I’m not playing that game. I will give you tickets and a week’s paid expenses to your favorite villa in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat to get you the hell out of my hair.”
“Thank you, my darling.” Eloisa picked up her bag and didn’t bother with the pretense of a kiss. He watched her flounce across his office and called to her just as she reached the door.
“I’ll have armed security at the villa. See to it you don’t accidentally walk off with anything.”
His mother did turn at that, her eyes narrowed. “You’re so untrusting.”
“You were an outstanding teacher.” He extended a hand toward the door, then turned and walked back toward his desk, effectively dismissing her.
“You really think you’re so far above this?”
He did turn at that, surprised at how little regard she had for maintaining the pretense of maternal love. “You need this, the rush. The feeling of power. The thrill of the chase. You need this, and it makes you just like me.”
“I’m nothing like you.”
“So you think, but that’s because you’ve never experienced loss.”
“Would you prefer to stay in New York for the next week? I don’t need to front your vacation.”
“Just remember what I said. Things can be taken away, Holt. Things you didn’t even realize you cared for. You’ll care when they’re gone.”
She swept through the door, like a storm that had done its damage and then moved on to its next landfall. Holt cursed himself for giving her the week on the French Riviera, but at least he could have his people keep an eye on her. It would also give him some time to dig into her latest scam so he could try and put a stop to it.
He dropped into his chair and not for the first time wondered where he’d come from, and just how much of her might have rubbed off on him. His gaze caught on the open email from Nathan, and he tapped out a quick acceptance.
There was a mountain of work, and he’d just added investigating his mother’s latest dirty deed to his to-do list, but the urge to go to the party was strong. Even stronger was his curiosity about the guest list. If a certain woman with chocolate eyes, a temptress’s body, and a bright, fiery smile was at the party, he knew he’d consider it time well-spent.
Maybe once he knew who she was, he could put these idiotic memories to bed once and for all.
…
Mayson stumbled out of the car and ran toward the back door of Keira and Nathan’s summer house, grateful no one was nearby to see her practically lose her lunch. Why she had thought a bag of fast food was the answer to raging hunger pangs, she had no idea, but the half-pound burger, fries, and milkshake had seemed like the right idea halfway through Connecticut.
“Are you all right?”
Camryn ran up to her and grabbed the heavy bag from her arms as Mayson laid a hand against the back wall of the house to support herself.
“I’m fine.”
“You look sick.”
“I’m fine. Really. I just didn’t need that milkshake. Or the fries. Or the burger.” Her stomach rumbled once more and a cool bead of sweat rolled down the back of her neck.
“Mayson, you look horrible.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll lay down and remind myself that I need to quit attempting to eat like a seven-year-old.”
A small smile twitched at the edges of Camryn’s lips. “You actually ate like a truck driver. I’ve never seen you devour food so fast.”
“I was hungry.”
“Well stop skipping breakfast.”
The urge to argue rose up, but she held back. She had eaten breakfast—a large plate of bacon and eggs from the company cafeteria, along with a bagel.
“Do you feel well enough to go in?”
“Yeah.” The nausea was already fading, and she felt steadier on her feet. “I do.”
“Go inside