Bait: Alpha Billionaire Romance Boxed Set Page 10

  I buzzed him in and prepared for the grating third degree. Chase Bradenton had been my best friend since boarding school. There was a pact. A man pact. We’d hung out and partied all through college and business school. But when I’d gone off in an attempt to make my cold assed father proud, Chase had chosen to live off his trust fund and fuck his way across all seven continents. Last I’d heard, he was holed up with a hot blonde in Amsterdam, hitting the bong. Despite his world travels, we still remained close friends. Most days, he was my only friend.

  My hand had just unlocked the door when Chase barreled through like a hurricane tearing up the coastline. He had an armload of magazines and newspapers that he promptly dumped on the floor in front of the couch. The New York Daily, the STAR magazine, the New York Weekly, the NYC HOT NOW Newspaper, plus dozens of others. Shit. We could’ve lined the whole Upper East Side’s birdcages and cat litter boxes with all the paper.

  I closed the door and walked over to the couch where Chase had made himself comfortable. He kicked off his expensive Italian loafers and placed his bare feet on the glass coffee table. I poked the mound of offensive paper with my toe and asked, “What the hell is all this, Chase? Killed a whole forest today, I see.”

  Chase laughed. “Don’t play coy with me, shithead. Like a bad episode of I Love Lucy, you’ve got some ‘splaining to do. Who doesn’t give their best friend a heads up when they’re getting engaged?”

  He pulled out another copy of the Daily from his back pocket, held up the front page and poked it with his pointer finger. The sound of the crispy paper made me grab my head again.

  “Seriously, keep the noise level down to one decibel, dude.”

  Chase just laughed. “Imbibed a little too much champagne last night toasting the blessed event, huh? You know better than to drink that gut rot. It’s worse than Boone’s Farm.”

  I glanced up and opened my dry eyes to small slits. Splashed in full color was a photo of me in my black tuxedo with Charlie on my arm. She looked gorgeous in her white and gold designer dress, flashing a big smile at the camera. Then I saw it. The engagement ring perched on her finger made of recyclable paper. The biggest diamond New York City had probably ever seen.

  Chase’s eyes followed mine, landing on the ring finger of my fiancée. “Is there something that you forgot to tell me? Maybe you could’ve mentioned the other night when we spoke on the phone that you were planning on taking one of your cheap fucks and making her your wife? Is she currently expecting a little Nolan bambino?”

  I punched Chase on the shoulder and then swiped the paper out of his hands. “Have you been talking with my mother?” I accused him. “She said the same damn thing. Charlie’s not like that. Do I have to knock up a girl to get her to marry me? Maybe I’m actually in love for once, asshole!”

  “First off, I have my doubts about you getting engaged so quickly to someone that I have never met let alone heard about,” Chase leaned back in my leather sofa with a smirk. “Secondly, she is one hot piece of ass. So I can see the attraction there. But what the fuck, dude? I’m your best friend and I feel like a dick being in the dark on an important life event.”

  Where the hell to even begin? How do I explain to my best friend that I tricked the greatest woman I’d ever known by dangling a carrot in front of her? I’d promised Charlie that I wouldn’t tell anyone the truth. But I couldn’t deny the photos splashed across the pages of the mound of magazines and newspapers littering the floor.

  Charlie gazed into my eyes in adoration as she flashed the engagement ring to the well-wishers at the party last night. Another photo with my arm slung around her shoulder, whispering in her ear. Then yet another photo, yikes, this one of my mother with daggers in her eyes, looking at Charlie and me. Like she wanted to kill us with sharp icicles and hang us by our ankles to freeze in a meat locker. But it was the headlines that made my sphincter tighten up:

  NEW YORK CITY’S FAVORITE PLAYBOY POPS THE QUESTION TO MYSTERY WOMAN

  THE WINTER BALL THAT WE WON’T FORGET ANYTIME SOON

  NOLAN BANKS ENGAGED TO LAWYER FROM WRONG SIDE OF THE TRACKS

  The last one made me nauseated like a punch to the gut. My protective instincts went into high gear. How dare they do a background check on Charlie! She hadn’t asked for any of this. “Where the hell did you get all these papers? Did you rob a newsstand?”

  “Quit trying to change the subject,” Chase said as he leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees. And glare. At me. “But if you must know, the airport has a nice newspaper stand that has an impressive media selection. When I got off the plane, I checked my voice mail and my mailbox was full. Full, Nolan. All about my best friend’s engagement. Imagine my surprise? How did I not know that Nolan Banks had stuck his dick in a mystery woman so alluring he’d put a ring on it? As soon as I got off the plane, I bought every paper that had your pretty little face on it. Yet, you never said one freaking word during our brief conversation the other night. Not. One. Word.”

  Despite teasing me and throwing all these papers at me to try and prove a point, I could tell that Chase’s smug comments were driven by hurt. Hurt that I’d caused. Seems I littered pain wherever I went, leaving it behind me in my wake.

  “Seriously, though, why couldn’t you tell your best friend? Even a phone call last night after you’d done the deed would’ve been appropriate. Or a text. Or a homing pigeon.”

  I blew out a long breath. I couldn’t break my promise to Charlie. Even to my best friend. “It was kinda a last minute thing. You know me, always acting on my baser impulses.”

  “Wow.” Chase studied my face while he processed my answer. “She must be the best fuck ever. You’ve always been impulsive but to ask a girl to marry you? I don’t know if I buy that. What’s really going on, Nolan? Are you in trouble?”

  Anger seared through me like a flashbulb. Blame it on the alcohol or lack of sleep. But damn, when did I have to answer to someone? “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that I had to ask your permission before getting engaged. No, I’m not in trouble nor is Charlie pregnant. She’s an attorney for my firm. A smart, talented, Ivy League educated attorney. We just met a few weeks ago. I happened to fall in love with her. We have a lot in common. I bought the ring yesterday right before the gala. Yes, it was an impromptu performance. I may not have thought it through, but I certainly don’t regret it. I love her.”

  And I did.

  Chase patted me on the back. “Then I guess congratulations are in order. I’m happy for you, bro.”

  I looked at Chase, suddenly contrite. I’d never intended to hurt anyone. Chase. Charlie. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I should’ve called you on the way to the gala…”

  “Apology accepted. On to bigger and better things… do I get to serve as your best man? By the looks of Charlene, I could probably get some excellent tail out of that deal.”

  I laughed, eyeing all the headlines on the papers strewn over the floor. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I still need to get through…”

  Oh shit.

  “What time is it?” I frantically looked around for a clock.

  “Nine-thirty? Ten? I don’t know. Do you have other proposals to make today?” Chase teased me.

  “Nine forty-five!” I called out after seeing the fuzzy green numbers on the stove’s clock. I ran to my bathroom to take a quick shower and get dressed as I called over my shoulder. “I forgot I have to have brunch with my mother!”

  Chase followed me to the bathroom. “Oh, joy. Can I go? I wanna watch this train wreck in person.”

  “See if you can find a clean pair of jeans and a decent shirt for me to wear,” I called out while dousing myself with shampoo. I would have to brush my teeth in the limo so I wasn’t too late. My mother was going to kill me. She didn’t like tardiness.

  “What time was brunch?” Chase called back to me.

  “Ten.”

  I heard him laughing. “Man, your mother’s gonna be pissed. She’s gonna be wearing that look lik
e she hasn’t shit for days.”

  “Did you find a clean shirt for me?” I ignored his statement, getting out of the shower. I hastily dried off and slipped on the clothes Chase threw at me.

  “You’re lucky I showed up here this morning,” Chase muttered, grabbing my wallet and cell phone. He tossed it all to me, including my keys. I added a toothbrush and toothpaste and stuffed it in my front pocket.

  “Stick around, okay? There’s some leftover Italian food in the fridge. Pop on the game, I’ll be home later. We’ll have some beers.” I slammed the door and ran for the elevator. I still had to pick up Charlie and then beat feet across town to meet my mother. I was surprised Charlie hadn’t been blowing up my phone.

  Well, I reminded myself, I’d already disappointed my mother last night by my surprise proposal. Being late to brunch should be no big deal. That was a blatant self-lie. I’d never hear the end of it via her passive aggressive rancor.

  Chapter Three

  “I hope you don’t mind, dear. I’ve already ordered for us.” My mother’s icy tone cut through the silence that had ensued since Charlie and I arrived. She looked Charlie up and down. “I don’t care for tardiness, Charlene.”

  Not only was Charlie mad at me for being late picking her up, but my mother was infuriated as well, spraying her special brand of venom in the wrong direction. Charlie’s lush mouth formed a perfect circle. Too bad I didn’t have the time to stop and really admire it.

  “It’s my fault we’re late, Mother,” I said as I held the chair out for Charlie to slide into. “I overslept.”

  The sight of the ten-thousand-dollar bottle of Armand de Brignac Brut Rose Champagne that she ordered made my stomach turn. The hangover was reduced to a five by the Bloody Mary and second helping of Goody’s powder my driver gave me. But the thought of ever drinking another glass of champagne made me want to hurl.

  The only thing that made my headache somewhat better was the sight of Charlie. She had brought her ‘A’ game this morning. She was wearing a beautiful dark navy linen pantsuit with a crème lacy top underneath. Her hair was styled simply, pulled back in a sleek ponytail. And she didn’t look like a hangover hot mess like I did.

  Brunch on the Upper East Side was a much different ballgame than anywhere else in the city. Here, people dressed to the nines, leisurely drank champagne, and ate grilled lobster with their eggs Benedict. I should’ve known better and worn a suit instead of the dark pressed jeans and the pale yellow button down.

  My mother had the whole evil stepmother look down with her hair pulled into a tight bun, a glimmering ivory cape over her tight wool grey dress. Her makeup was expertly done; her thin lips lined with her trademark red lipstick. The rich smell of Chanel No. 5 wafted through the air. I tried to remember not to breathe through my nose, lest I upchuck on her iced tea.

  My mother pursed her lips and glared. “Try to be on time for once, Nolan.”

  I glanced around the Carlyle Hotel, where the food was refined French-inspired fare displayed in an upscale, white-tablecloth dining room that drew a well-dressed and prominent crowd. The restaurant was decorated with shiny mirrored alcoves, dramatic six foot tall floral arrangements that topped most of the tables, and wall art with English hunting scenes, as well as engravings by Redouté, which completed the intimate country house ambience. Most of the patrons were dripped in diamonds and shiny gold watches that matched the décor of the Carlyle. All this shininess was making my hangover debut an encore performance. I wished I could slip on some Ray-Bans, but that would further piss off my surly mother.

  My mother surveyed me over her glass of champagne, before turning her perfectly rhinoplastied nose in the air and gesturing to the waiter.

  “The steak and lobster for my son, Manuel. I’ll have the Foie Gras Terrine with a baby wedge, no dressing. The girl will have the Chicken Cobb Salad with dressing on the side.” My mother lowered her tone as if she and the college student were in a warped conspiracy. As if I couldn’t hear her. As if Charlie couldn’t hear her. Bitch. “I don’t think she can afford the calories.”

  Charlie surprised both of us by interrupting my mother. “Actually, Manuel, I don’t care for Chicken Cobb Salad. I’ll have the Challah French Toast with extra golden syrup and orange marmalade on the side.”

  Poor Manuel looked like a deer in the headlights on I94 in Wisconsin. His concerned gaze darted between my mother and my fiancée. Charlie pasted a bright smile on her face and didn’t budge when my mother stared her down. This brunch was getting more interesting by the minute. I was glad I showed up. Too bad I’d told Chase to stay behind because he was great at adding kindling to a blaze. And my mother hated him.

  After a long, excruciating silence, my mother nodded at Manuel. “Very well. Move along, Manuel.”

  Charlie’s shoulders sagged from the battle of wills, then she turned her attention to me. I could almost read her mind:

  What the fuck did you get me into, Nolan Banks? This is going to cost you. A whole lot of money. And possibly a raise. And a promotion.

  Okay, Charlie. You’re worth every penny. But how about I pay you in foot massages. And fucking. And pussy eating. A plethora of firework inducing orgasms in repayment for your class and sass until…

  Until the end of time.

  “So, the Gala was a huge success last night,” I said, trying to play the mediator between Charlie and my mother. “We raised–”

  “Charlene, we will have the engagement party next weekend.” Mother effectively cut me off. She had no interest in me being here. She wanted Charlie to wiggle and squirm.

  I decided to shut up and see where this went. Charlie had already proven she could handle herself with my mother. No other woman I’d ever dated had gone more than one round with the Ice Queen. And then–

  Knock out.

  “It’s Charlie,” Charlie said. “And no, next weekend is not good. We already have plans to go out of town.” She looked at me for confirmation.

  My mother ignored that look and whipped out her day planner before I could say anything. “You’ll have to cancel your plans. That is the only Saturday I can do it.”

  “Will that give you enough time to invite everyone?” I reminded my mother.

  She shot a look that could kill from forty paces. Except she’d forgotten one thing in this gun slinging duel – she’d brought a knife to a gun fight. “Let me worry about the invites.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t cancel my plans,” Charlie said, truly concerned as she worried her lip with her teeth. “I promised my dad that I would come home that weekend. I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

  Oh, no. Big mistake, Charlie. You should’ve never said that. I knew my mother. My fiancée had just given her a pocketful of ammunition. Or maybe it was a Japanese Shuriken.

  “He can come here,” Mother said as she clapped her hands together in delight. My mother had Charlie in the half-nelson and was about to go in for the takedown. “I’ll pay for his plane ticket. Your father should be at your engagement party anyway.”

  Charlie tried to object, but my mother waved her off. She started writing in her planner. “Next Saturday it is. Seven o’clock sharp at my apartment.” Mother shot another bullet at me. “Don’t be late, Nolan.”

  I snuck a glance at Charlie who looked like she’d been hit by a train.

  “Of course, I’ll plan everything. You don’t need to worry about a thing,” Mother went on, flipping through the planner and making meticulous notes on the thin pages. “Flowers will have to be ordered. Catering. Oh, I know the most divine caterer. They are new to the city, but they catered Mary Alice’s grandson’s Communion, and it was wonderful.” Her babbling continued for at least five minutes and she barely stopped to draw breath. Charlie’s face kept getting paler. “I’ll get the invites to the printer first thing Monday morning.” She turned her attention to me. “I’ll have a messenger send a few of the invites to your office. You’ll be inviting some important clients?”

  I nodd
ed. Whatever she wanted. I learned early on in life it was best to let my mother do as she wished. She was going to anyway. No need to fight it.

  “Actually, I–” Charlie started.

  My mother ignored her and continued, “We’ll get an appointment with my personal shopper to arrange fittings for your dress. You’ll need to wear something….” my mother paused and looked over Charlie’s current outfit, “a little more elegant and refined for my party.”

  “You mean our engagement party?” Charlie corrected. Her face was now devoid of color. “I don’t want you to have to go to all this trouble. We don’t even know if – if this -”

  I shot Charlie a warning glance.

  “Spit it out, Charlene.” My mother glanced up over her gold-framed reading glasses. “What are you trying to say?”

  “I don’t even know if this wedding is going to happen!” She took a big gulp of her champagne. “It’s just a business arrangement.”

  I drained the rest of my beverage as well.

  Shit.

  My mother wasn’t fazed though. She laughed that famous throaty guffaw. “Well, of course this is a business arrangement. Why else would Nolan marry you.” My mother returned to look at her day planner, where she was furiously scribbling notes. “You young women these days think I’m naïve. Were you dropped on the head as a baby, Charlene? Thanks for reminding me I need to have a pre-nup drawn up.”

  My mother flipped another page and began marking names. Meanwhile, Charlie sat stunned in her seat. She looked at me and I shrugged. There really was no reasonable explanation for my mother except that she was New York new money. Because she’d married it.

  Still looking down with a smirk that could be seen five tables over, my mother continued, “Given your short time at the company and knowing the past shenanigans my adoring son has pulled in the past, it was completely obvious that your upcoming nuptials were a part of some harebrained business deal cooked up by Nolan as an incentive to close on that gargantuan piece of dirt on the Lower East Side that he’s so fond of.”