CHAPTER ELEVEN
Joanie
My form quivered in the elevator, cheeks flushed. Because when I checked in with the concierge, he’d nodded.
“Of course, Miss MacAllister,” the elderly man said in a professional tone. “I’ll let you right up.”
But then that expression got serious. “You guys having a party up there? Three other gentlemen went up this morning as well. Management needs to be informed if there are parties bigger than five,” he frowned.
I gulped. Who was at Nick’s apartment? It had to be Damien, Charlie and Tom. The other three alphas must have shown up to resolve the issue of my possession.
So I gulped.
“No-not sure,” was my stammer. “But I can let Mr. North know.”
The concierge nodded.
“Yes, please. Ask him to call down and I’ll note it in our computers,” he said officiously. “Co-op rules and regulations, you know.”
I nodded, although in fact, I had no idea how the rules worked. Co-ops are a weird quirk of New York City. They run buildings in NYC, and the boards have been known to be strict and even bizarre in some cases. A party of five people didn’t sound so ginormous to me, but it wasn’t my place to say.
“Okay,” I said timidly. “Will do.”
And with that, I was whooshed up in the gleaming elevator, heart pumping excitedly. Because after visiting Karen, I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to tell the billionaires my story. I wanted to lay out my concerns, and to address them heart in hand. How things would turn out wasn’t clear, but there was definitely some type of resolution that would work for all of us.
But life is zany and bizarre, and my heart dropped to my stomach when the elevator doors opened. Because I thought I’d be alone. There’s only one apartment on Nick’s floor after all, and that’s his penthouse.
But unexpectedly, a beautiful blonde breezed in, hair slightly mussed, lipstick off just a touch off.
She shot me a dirty look.
“Getting off?” the girl asked. Her voice was dry and raspy, like she’d just tasted something nasty.
I shook my head, and then nodded quickly.
“Yes, yes, in fact I am,” I said.
She stared, those blue eyes unkind.
“This is it,” were her flat words. “You’re at the right floor.”
And numbly, my feet took me off the elevator, doors dinging closed once more.
But my lungs wouldn’t inhale. Or more accurately, they were filling with oxygen too fast. I felt lightheaded and faint.
Because who was that girl?
Why had she been so surly?
Why had she looked me up and down like I was the competition?
I was dressed in nothing special, just jeans and a t-shirt. My brown hair was wild as always, springing in curls around my shoulders.
But the blonde had narrowed her eyes at me, surveying my assets up and down. And strangely, we looked somewhat alike, superficially at least. We both had huge, soft breasts with wide hips. Her bum was as big as Kim Kardashian’s, clad in pink velour sweat pants with a lower back tattoo peeping over the waistband.
Who was that girl?
And why was she visiting Nick?
Heart thumping, my feet propelled me forwards. There was only one apartment on the top floor, and that belonged to the billionaire. So why did he have a pretty blonde visitor at ten in the morning? She couldn’t have been visiting anyone else.
Creeping towards the front door, I paused, pressing my ear to the wood.
It wasn’t necessary.
Every word was clear as a bell.
“Ripe,” drawled one male voice. “Luscious for sure.”
“Yeah, she’s good,” remarked another one. “Not as good as Joanie but still up there.” Was that Tom? I sort of recognized his tone.
But the next voice was unmistakable, deep and raspy.
“Forget it, Joanie’s done,” came Nick’s comment. “Let’s move on.”
I fell to my knees then in the hallway. The thunk was loud but the carpet muffled most of the impact, even as I breathed hard, eyes wild.
Because it was clear what had happened. The billionaires had given up on me. When they discovered me gone this morning, they called up Helena for a new girl.
“Send a fresh one,” Nick must have commanded. “We’re done with the old.”
My eyes watered, stinging and hot. That fast? I’d crept out in the middle of the night, taking my stuff with me. And they’d given up already? Not just that, but called in my replacement as well?
Because that’s who the blonde girl was. She must have interviewed with the six men. They were all here, after all. The six of them were in New York for some reason or other, taking overnight flights. And when they discovered I was missing, it was the perfect time to do some screening for the next stewardess.
Forget Joanie.
Forget the brunette.
Forget the promises we made.
Oh wait. There had been no promises, nothing but a contract.
And now I was too much trouble.
Because billionaires don’t “work things out.”
Instead, everything goes their way, all the time.
And heart pounding, tears poured down my cheeks. How could this have happened? I didn’t deserve this. Just yesterday, the twins and Nick had been fighting over me. But one small disturbance in the universe, and I was toast? Because I needed some time to myself, that was it? How could they be so harsh and unrelenting? Why was this happening?
But there are no why’s in the world.
Things are unfair.
Nothing is just.
And I had to accept my fate. The billionaires were done with me. More than done, they’d already found someone else to take my place. At the very least, they were interviewing dozens of applicants, thus the dirty look the blonde shot my way.
She thought I was competition.
Oh god.
The realization hurt so bad that I keeled over, face in my hands.
Because I wasn’t competition.
I was leftover trash, one and done, thrown out with the garbage.
The knowledge seared my heart, tearing me apart from the inside out.
But no. They’d hear if I cried outside the door. So stumbling to the elevator bank, I jammed the button with a desperate finger, willing the lift to carry me away.
Get me out of here, the voice in my head whispered. Please now, before they discover my humiliation.
Because I was yesterday’s news … and the dream was over.