It’s been two days since the bar, and I can’t get Bridget out of my mind. I know it’s a dangerous game I’m playing, but I can’t control it.
I pick up the phone and call the head of security for The L. “Mr. Lancaster,” he answers.
“Miles, I’m going to need you to look into someone for me.”
“Not a problem, sir.”
“Her name is Bridget. She mentioned that she was working at a marketing firm but had to walk out. The temp agency she got the job through was the Karen Michelle Agency. Get me the details.”
“On it.”
I place the phone down, anxious to hear what he has to report. This girl has made me a weak and desperate fool. It’s not the first time I’ve been a fucking idiot where a woman is concerned. You’d think I would’ve learned my lesson.
I should call back and tell him to forget it. I should, but I won’t. I need to know something, anything about her. Maybe just a kernel of information will be enough to stave off the curiosity because that’s all it was: a passionate moment outside a bar with a stranger. A stranger who was desperate just as I was.
Yes, just one more piece of her is all I need. Information will curb the hunger.
Fucking idiot.
I’m sitting at my desk a day later, and everything is grating on my nerves. Spencer keeps calling. Ever since we had our little “heart-to-heart” after his girlfriend, Olivia, overdosed, he’s been waiting for me to talk to him. When he called months ago, it was right after Chelsea convinced me to bid on a property she’d found out he was interested in purchasing. He wanted me to tell him why I outbid him. But at the time I wasn’t ready to talk about the past. Hell, months later, I’m still not ready to talk to him. For so long my objective has been to destroy the legacy my brother stole from me, but now that resolve has changed. Something changed that day on the phone. When he yelled at me, telling me his girlfriend had just struggled for her life, I’ve never felt like a bigger asshole. His words hurt. Hearing the pain in his words hurt. But when his voice dropped and he said, “I want my brother back,” any residual fuel to hurt him faded away.
I do want to talk to him, though, but so much time has passed I wouldn’t know what to say. Plus, the timing isn’t ideal right now. Between The L, having to monitor Chelsea and this damn girl I can’t get out of my mind, I’m like a live wire or a raging inferno ready to explode.
Speaking of, I still haven’t heard back from Miles, and I’m beginning to get pissed about that too. How long does it take to find out something about someone? The last few times I’ve called, he hasn’t been around, almost like he’s avoiding me. Even worse, he’s out of the office for the next few days, so I won’t be getting any answers any time soon. Which pisses me off. Shit. The need to know more about her is taking up way too much of my time. I can’t be acting like this. With the opening of The L looming, I need to get my shit together. We aren’t getting nearly as much press as I’d like, and if this isn’t successful, I’ll hear Chelsea say I told you so. She’ll make my life a living hell.
My phone starts ringing again, and it’s Spencer . . . again. It’s not normal for him to call back-to-back like this. Chelsea must have done something.
I send Spencer to voicemail, refusing to deal with this now. I’ll have to speak to Chelsea before I call Spencer.
Storming into her office, I see her typing away. She’s still as beautiful as when I first met her. She exudes sensuality with every breath she takes. At one time I was completely enthralled by her full lips, by the passion in her deep blue eyes, but now I see through her façade. I see the bitch beneath the surface.
“What the fuck did you do?”
“Well, good morning to you, too.”
“Cut the bullshit. Tell me now.”
“I went ahead and did what you were too much of a pussy to do.”
“I told you to drop it. I told you no more bidding against Lancaster Holdings.”
“You were fine with me bidding on Manchester and St. Barts, so I decided it was in the best interest of this company to not listen to you. Now, if you have nothing else to discuss with me . . .”
“You will cease all acquisitions. Do you hear me? No more bidding. No more purchases. You will leave my family alone, Chelsea.”
“Why would I do that? This is what you wanted. What was best for The L. Or don’t you remember storming into my office at The Lancaster the day you found out your father sideswiped you with Spencer, demanding revenge? Funny how short your memory is right now. One visit with your brother and you’re singing a different tune. Well, don’t worry, Grant, my memory is long enough for the both of us. And I’ll get my satisfaction.”
She’s right. Chelsea and I might not get along, but we’ve always seen eye to eye on the ruin of The Lancaster, the destruction of everything that should have been mine. But after seeing Spencer and speaking to him, that goal just doesn’t seem so important anymore.
Growing my business is one thing, but doing it at the expense of my family is another. The reasons behind my bitterness were my own doing. I see that now. Spencer isn’t to be held accountable for my actions. I’m done doing shady business deals.
“I’m not singing a different tune. I still want to grow and expand. I just changed the method we use to do it. No more underhanded dealings.”
“Only five months ago—”
“Stop it right there.” I raise my palm in the air warningly. “I said no more, and I meant it. Leave Lancaster alone.” My voice booms through her office as I turn on my heel and head to the elevator. Once alone, I let out the breath I’m holding.
She won’t give up. It’s not in her nature.
My hand bangs against the elevator door. Fuck. Until I can find a way to get her out of this company, I need to tread carefully. I take a deep inhale.
Think.
What are my options?
I can’t afford a public battle now. I can’t afford bad publicity for The L, and a public fight in or out of court will do just that. I need to keep my shit straight and figure out some other way to deal with Chelsea.
Grabbing my phone, I dial my attorney. “I want her out!”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says, not even asking who I’m talking about. For the five years we’ve worked together—ever since I was ousted from Lancaster Holdings—he’s known who I want out of my life. We try not to speak her name, but we both know.
Chelsea, the Chief Operating Officer of The L, and the biggest mistake of my life.
My wife.