Chapter Sixteen
From Natalie’s rules for Foster Boyd, v1
Rule #10: Do not read the paper! Don’t watch the news! If you think there is even a slim chance that they’re going to air something that will upset you enough that you forget rules 1-9, then just do not tune in. If something important enough happens, it will be in a major news network, not a tabloid, so just pretend those do not exist. Trust me, you’ll thank me for this!
Connor sat across from her in the hotel room, holding her hands loosely. His face was stern, still a little frustrated, and he squeezed her fingertips. “Please, just let me explain things?”
“What is there to explain?” she asked. “He was sexting Margo Welles. Don’t pretend it wasn’t true. I saw the picture online, and I may not be an expert on breasts like a Boyd brother, but those were hers. I know it. Now he’s with her on the beach. This doesn’t take a rocket scientist. It is pretty clear what is going on.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, Natalie. Which is partially my fault, but—”
A sob broke free of her throat. “Yeah, Boyds don’t have weaknesses. And Boyds don’t break their rules, but I see through you both, Connor. Because you do. You’re riddled with weaknesses and you break all the damn rules. For instance, I know he is a control freak, and when things are outside the realm of his control, he doesn’t handle it well,” she warbled. “And I know you’re his brother, but in this, you do not have to try to cover for him. He’s with her. The evidence speaks for itself.”
Connor stood, pulling her to her feet before wrapping her in a warm hug. His hand was rough as he scrubbed it up and down her back. “I’m not covering for him. He’s covering for me,” he began.
She punched his chest, pushing partway out of his arms, but he didn’t release her. “Natalie, please. I care about you—” Connor began.
“You always did like to steal what is mine,” Foster said from the doorway. Connor leaped away from her, leaving Natalie swaying on her feet, still looking at the world through a sheen of tears. Foster came back? He hasn’t been gone long enough to sleep with Margo, right? Which meant…
Maybe he wasn’t cheating on her? Not that he could even cheat on me, she thought bitterly. They weren’t even in a real relationship. He’d implied she was the exception, and she’d eaten it up. What did that even mean? Exception to what? Exceptionally stupid, to let her heart get involved when the man in question literally told her not to get attached.
Buffy whined, nudging Foster’s leg, and he touched her head almost absentmindedly. Even through her teary view, Foster looked furious. And sort of empty.
He looked sad, but she didn’t know what she was supposed to do about that since this was all his own fault. He’d gone to Margo Welles. Fact. He’d been sexting her months ago. Fact. Even if Natalie tried to ignore those two important details, the truth remained clear.
He’d never promised her anything besides sex. He didn’t even want to look at her face when they made love… Made love? Fucked. Call it what it is and maybe you can react logically to this whole situation, she reminded herself.
“It isn’t what you’re thinking, Foster,” Connor said, since neither she nor Foster were speaking.
“Isn’t it? I walk in to a room when you’re not expecting me and find you embracing my…Natalie, holding her face in your hands, telling her how much you care about her. What am I supposed to think?” Foster spoke what should’ve been passionate words in such an empty voice, and it squeezed her heart in her chest.
See? That little voice in her head spoke up. His Natalie. Even he was pointing out how stupid it was that she cared about him.
Shut up, she told the little voice.
“Foster, please. You know me better than that. You know her better than that. Think this through.” Connor said.
“Foster,” she said.
He swiveled his sad gaze in her direction, but each heartbeat made it more impossible to say anything important. She was the woman he slept with. She had no right to even complain about him meeting with Margo.
“I’m leaving,” she said.
“I think that might be best,” Foster said coldly. “I’m sure Connor can find room for you in his suite.”
She shook her head. Part of her wanted to call him an idiot. Like she’d sleep with his brother when she was in love with him?
But she couldn’t even tell him she was in love with him, because he’d told her not to get attached. She couldn’t even tell him why he was being an idiot, that’s how fucked up their situation was at this point.
She didn’t need her clothes. Not badly enough to stick around. So she simply grabbed her laptop bag and her purse and headed for the door.
“You’re both being idiots!” Connor practically yelled. “This is all my fault. If you’ll just let me explain—”
But apparently Foster didn’t want to hear it, either, because the last thing she saw as she left Foster’s rooms was him punching his brother so hard that he fell backward over the couch.
…
“Ms. Stolen, do you have a comment?” the reporter asked, shoving a microphone in her face.
“This way, ma’am,” the doorman said. He managed to get her through the crowd and to her front door pretty easily. Bless the man. He deserved the car. Maybe a beach house.
But she wouldn’t be able to afford sand after the past couple months. She was out of work, had a broken heart, and her whole life was basically a big shit show. Starring her—the woman who couldn’t do anything right.
“Thank you,” she said to the doorman once they were in the lobby. “You’re wonderful, Alfred.” Stepping up on tiptoes, she hugged the surprised older man. “I’ll miss you.”
“You’re leaving again, ma’am?”
“Probably,” she said vaguely.
“I allowed a guest into your apartment,” Alfred said on the elevator on the way up to her floor.
“Hmm?” she asked, distracted. She wasn’t too worried. He’d never let someone bad into her house. Not if he hadn’t met them and known they were allowed up.
“Ms. Harper, ma’am. Apparently she flew in overnight.”
A rush of relief hit Natalie like a fist. “Oh, thank you, Alfred.”
By then, she was pushing inside her apartment and rushing into the open arms of her best friend.
“Oh, Harp,” she bawled.
They crumpled to the floor, and for the longest time, Harper didn’t ask questions. She just hugged and rocked while Natalie ugly cried it all out. Once she recovered, Harper made her a hot cup of tea, and she tried to fill her friend in on all that had happened.
“I know it isn’t what the headlines are saying,” Harper added.
“What are they saying?” Natalie asked, reaching for the remote.
Harper stopped her, taking the remote away. “You do not want to know.”
“Yes, I do!” Natalie insisted.
“What do you tell your clients?” Harper asked.
Natalie sniffed. “Don’t look at headlines.” Her voice sounded whiny to her own ears.
Harper stared her down, and Natalie sniffled again. Harper handed her a tissue.
“Just the local station?” Natalie tried.
“Especially not the local station,” Harper said.
“It’s that bad?”
“Worse.”
More tears threatened, and Harper shook her head. “No more of that. You’re going to get dehydrated. Now, let’s start at the top. When last we spoke, you were frustrated with ass sex and going to talk to Foster.”
Natalie choked out a laugh. “Okay, that’s a very inaccurate and vague summation of facts.”
Harper raised a single eyebrow in question. “Do you love him?”
Natalie couldn’t answer. More tears flowed and she could only nod.
“Shit,” said Harper. “I guess I’ll have to kill him. Hang on. We’re going to have to look up how to hide a billionaire body and get away with it.”
Laughing through her tears, Natalie pulled her friend close for a hug. “I love you,” she told Harper.
Harper held her close, her silky, soft hair a barrier against the hurts and the world outside her arms. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”
A pounding knock sounded at the door. “Nat, let me in.”
“Go away!” Natalie answered, still sniffling. He was the last person she wanted to talk to. Or next to last. Whatever.
“Is that him?” Harper asked, glancing back at the door.
“No, that’s Connor,” Natalie admitted. “The brother.”
“The hot brother,” Harper answered, hopping to her feet.
“You’re taken,” Natalie reminded her, amused despite her heartbreak.
“We broke up. I’ll fill you in later. Lemme let hot brother in.”
“No!” Natalie yelped. “I do not want to talk to him.” But Harper had already let him in. “I do not want to talk to you,” she told him.
“Fine. Great! I just hopped on a plane and chased you halfway across the country. In coach, I might add, because my damn brother took our plane and left without me. I thought he was coming here, but no-o-o, because you two do not talk things through. So here I am, and I do not want you to talk to me. I just want you to shut up and listen.” Connor flopped his arms, looking eminently pissed off.
“I’ll talk to you,” Harper said to him, smiling as she twitched her hair over her shoulder. “Harper Hashimoto. Pleasure to meet you. Did someone give you a black eye?”
Connor touched his fingertips gently to his left eye before cringing. “Yeah, my brother.”
“Ah, part of the whole story which I still haven’t heard. I just saw the internet blow up and saw some of the headlines. Apparently, I was on the fastest plane,” Harper said with a shrug.
“That’s the damn problem,” Conner almost yelled. “I’m the only one who knows the whole story, and neither of these boneheads will listen to me!”
“Hey, don’t talk about my best friend like that,” Harper said, poking his chest. Considering her fingertip, she poked him again. “That’s solid muscle, isn’t it? Like, I’m impressed. How much can you bench?”
“Harper,” Natalie said slowly.
“I like her,” Connor said, leaning closer to Harper. “Connor Boyd, pleasure to meet you.”
“Okay, if you two get together, I’m moving to a mountain top and never coming back down,” Natalie said, half laughing as she sniffled.
“Don’t make promises you don’t plan to keep,” Harper warned Natalie. Glancing at Connor and giving him a quick onceover, she gestured toward the couch and added, “Have a seat, hunky rich guy. If they won’t listen to you, I will. I’m tired of just getting pieces of the story, even if the parts she shares do include butt sex.”
“Butt sex?” Conner asked, perking up. “No one told me the parts with butt sex.”
Harper grinned at him. “We’ll compare notes later, sweetie, but for now, tell us what you know.”
Connor sat, burying his face in his hands. “Like I keep trying to tell them both, this is all my fault.”
Natalie threw a throw pillow at his head. It missed, but she still told him, “It isn’t your fault, Connor. And you can quit trying to cover for your brother. It’s done.”
Pinning her with those steely gray eyes of his, Connor shook his head slowly. “It isn’t done, because you do not know everything. Now hush. Just listen.”
“Fine, whatever.” Natalie flopped onto her back on the carpet. Closing her eyes, she decided to just listen. Not that it would matter. What was done was done.
“About a year or two ago, I had this thing with Margo Welles.” Connor began. When Natalie sat up and opened her mouth, he raised a single hand. “Seriously, shut up and let me talk. Like I said, Margo and I hooked up and had an affair. One time. One and done, as you know, is the family rule.”
“That’s a dumb rule,” Harper interrupted. “She didn’t tell me about the rule, I don’t think.”
Connor glared at her.
“Fine, fine. Shutting up.” Harper mimicked zipping her lips.
“But it wasn’t enough. I still had feelings for her. Margo had feelings for me, too, because she admitted as much when I asked her out to a dinner the next time I was in town. There was one problem—her kid.” Connor rubbed his hand over his face, cringing when he bumped the sore eye. “She didn’t want her daughter to find out she was sleeping with me, which I guess is a good call since we agreed on a no-strings relationship.”
“Both you and your brother hooked up with Margo Welles? And she was with Aiden Kelley? That lady gets around.”
Connor’s lips pursed into a white line, and he stared down Harper with his threatening gaze. Harper laughed at him, clearly not afraid. “What?”
“She doesn’t ‘get around.’ She was never with Foster. And her relationship with Aiden was over a decade ago. That’s hardly getting around by anyone’s standards, I would think.”
“But the texts?” Natalie yelped. “I literally read the sexts they were sending back and forth online, and that was not an innocent relationship. I saw her breasts, for god’s sake. In full color, on the internet.”
“Which was awful for you, because they thought it was you that Foster was sexting,” Connor agreed. “But the thing was… Foster wasn’t sexting her. I had his phone. We have the same phone and got swapped for a few days. Apparently, we’d made the mess up when we were together, and by the time I realized what happened, I was on a plane to Paris. Once there, I didn’t want Margo to worry…or forget me, so we exchanged a few texts in our conversation—”
“You sexted,” Harper said. “And sent pictures back and forth.”
Connor shrugged. “It was a very heated conversation.”
Harper snorted. Natalie was shaking her head. “So, what you’re saying is that when the whole scandal broke out, and they labeled me a fortune hunter, you knew it was her. Yet you didn’t say anything?”
“I couldn’t,” Connor said. “For one, you and Foster looked like you were hooking up anyway, so what harm did it do for the press to think you two were involved? You were involved. Secondly, Margo has a daughter. She’s not a baby, and she’s online. You think I wanted her kid to know that a picture of her mom’s breasts were being circulated on the internet because I left messages on Foster’s phone and he lost it? How is that fair to her daughter? Waverley, by the way. Her daughter’s name is Waverley, and she’s just an innocent ten-year-old kid, dealing with the fact that she just got her dad back—surprise! You think she needed this on top of all of that?”
Natalie opened and closed her mouth. But still…
She was paying for the follies of the rich. It wasn’t fair.
“I can tell by your face that regardless of all that, you’re still mad, and understandably so, but you should be mad at me. Mad at Margo, even, but not Foster. He’s like you, just caught in the middle of all of this, and he has literally no clue about it because neither of you will stand still and listen long enough for me to explain.” Connor sighed, burying his face in his hands again.
“There are too many coincidences,” Natalie said. “What are the chances of…?” She trailed off. “Margo is why I got hired.”
“Bingo,” said Connor. “She felt like hell about the whole mess and how so much of it got dumped on you. She said she heard about how your client list had all abandoned you, so she contacted Foster and mentioned you’d be perfect for the problems that arose after the failed Young campaign. Margo figured it was the perfect chance to give you a shot at rebuilding your client list. If she’d told me as much back then, we could’ve avoided so many misconceptions…”
“She tried to make things right? She actually did feel bad for what she did to my career?” she asked.
“Yes,” he agreed. “But it benefited Boyd Cosmetics, too, because we actually did need your help. You know that drunken brawl you were talking about? I was distracting the press so they didn’t get a picture of Margo. I do not want to be in the headlines. I really like her, and things were going really well…”
“Were?” Harper asked, perking up. “Do you need a shoulder to cry on? A breast on which to lay your heavy head?”
Connor smiled at her, but the expression faded to a frown pretty quickly. “She dumped me. And that, at least, Foster knew. At first, he didn’t seem to care. He blamed my relationship with Margo for the whole Young failure. He said I was distracted… Anyway, he knew about the sexts, he knew I was seeing her, and so he went to talk to her today to try to make her reconsider. Which I would have told you, if you’d let me get a word in edgewise in Florida.”
Harper clapped her hands. “Well, that resolves everything!”
“Not quite,” Natalie said, standing slowly. “It explains why my career is destroyed, but it also explains exactly why I can’t do a thing about it. It explains why he was with Margo on the beach, but it doesn’t resolve the most important problem of them all. Thanks for coming to tell me all of this, though, Connor. It is good to at least have some perspective over the whole mess. I need…rest. I’m going to go lay down.”
“No!” Connor said, jumping to his feet. Catching both her arms, he gave her a small shake. “You need to call him. To go to him. He’s so mad right now, and he doesn’t want to see me. You have to realize that he thinks I was making a move on you, and that I destroyed things between you and him. I can’t go to him, so you have to.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” she answered, pulling out of his gentle hold. She felt a little dizzy, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of all the crying or just general grief. “Because I have no horse in this race. He doesn’t care about me, Connor. He was just sleeping with me, and he told me not to get attached. But I broke the rules. I got attached. I care about him…” Her voice broke, more tears falling down her face. She thought she should run out at some point, but it seemed her capacity for crying was unlimited. “And that’s why none of this matters. You see, your story left out one important fact.”
“That he does care about you? I know him. I know I warned you off, but he’s changed. I’ve never seen him like this. I know he cares about you.” Connor sounded insistent, but she could only shake her head at him.
“No, you don’t know him,” Natalie said. “Because if he cared about me. If he lo—if he loved me, he wouldn’t in a million years think I was sleeping with you or otherwise involved with you. The fact remains that he doesn’t care about me, so none of the rest of it really matters, does it?”