Dirty Rich Betrayal Page 11

  I squeeze my eyes shut and replay last night’s conversation with Grayson about that word. When I open my eyes, Grayson is exiting the bathroom, pulling a T-shirt over his head and by the time it’s in place, he’s left the room. I tell myself to go back to sleep, to just relax into the perfection of being back here with him, but I can’t.

  Those phone calls he needs to make are likely about Ri and I need to be a part of fixing what problems I helped create. And I did help create them. I was used in a dangerous game Ri was, is, playing with Grayson. I sit up and throw away the blanket, leaving myself shivering as a chill touches my naked skin. I quickly walk across the room, enter the bathroom, and a few minutes later, my teeth and hair are brushed, my face washed, and I’ve pulled on sweats and a tee just in case we have company.

  I hurry down the hallway and as I round the corner, the deep rumble of Grayson’s voice lifts in the air. I enter the living room and spy him in the connected kitchen standing behind the island with the phone on the counter, obviously on speaker as he says, “I have no idea, Eric.” He looks up and his eyes light on me and then warm, his gaze sweeping over me in that familiar, always hungry way that says he wants to gobble me up. I really do love when this man wants to gobble me up.

  “How the hell would Becky even get your number?” Eric asks. “You never gave that bitch your number.” I am human enough to approve of this reply from Eric and I step between Grayson and the counter, my hands settling on his chest, as Eric continues with, “She left the damn state after you promised to ruin her and before we ever found out what the fuck that set-up was all about.”

  My eyes go wide, and Grayson shackles my waist, pulling me against him, his fingers tangling into my hair. “Betrayal,” Grayson says, his lips near mine. “It was always about betrayal.” I’m not sure I like that reply and how it relates to our breakup, but his mouth comes down on mine, his tongue delivering a seductive caress that I feel from head to toe. Fighting a moan, I melt right there in the kitchen, a big puddle of need and want, my hand sliding under Grayson’s T-shirt, while Eric is forgotten.

  That is until he says, “Grayson? Hello? Are you there?” and I realize that perhaps he’s been talking and I didn’t notice.

  Grayson’s lips part from mine, a curve to his mouth as he says, “I’m here.”

  “And?” Eric prods.

  “And what?” Grayson asks, his lips nearing mine again, a warm trickle of his breath promising another kiss I really want and now.

  Eric laughs. “Okay. You’re distracted. Good morning, Mia.”

  Grayson and I both laugh. “Morning, Eric,” I greet.

  “Glad to have you back, sweetheart,” he says, “but I need his attention.”

  I push to my toes and kiss Grayson. “And I need coffee.” I dart away from Grayson and call out, “He’s all yours, Eric.”

  “I’m all yours, Eric,” Grayson mimics, pressing his hands to the island while I think about those hands on my body. He has really good hands.

  “I hired a new hacking expert,” Eric says. “He’s going to dig for answers on this Ri/DA situation and look for ties between Becky and Ri that we might have missed in the past.”

  “And Mitch,” Grayson says, as I stick a pod of coffee in the Keurig. “Mia and I think he helped setup the Becky incident. That could mean that he’s on board with Ri.”

  “Mitch,” Eric says. “Interesting. As is the idea that Ri plotted to break up you and Mia to distract you while he landed a larger blow.”

  That statement guts me. I helped Ri set Grayson up. How do we come back from that?

  “I’ll have Mitch monitored,” Eric adds. “Maybe he is the one helping Ri set you up.”

  “If Ri has the DA interested in taking me down,” Grayson says, “it’s a lot broader than Mitch, but he might be our door to answers.”

  That very accurate statement is unsettling in its content, but I’m relieved that Grayson is taking this threat seriously. Ri is coming for Grayson and he’s coming in a big way. I know it. I feel it. “Davis just texted me,” Eric says. “He wants to meet and talk about this threat from Ri. He says he has pressing information.”

  “What information?” I ask urgently, forgetting my coffee and joining Grayson back at the island.

  “He said it’s better talked about in person,” Eric explains. “Our chopper is at two, Grayson. How about noon?”

  “If your chopper is at two,” Grayson says, “Mia and I will fly out on our own a few hours later but, yes, twelve is fine. We’ll see you then.”

  I turn to Grayson. “If he won’t talk about it on the phone, it’s something bad, right?”

  “Something sensitive,” he says. “Which doesn’t always mean it’s bad.”

  “But this situation—Grayson, if the DA—”

  “We’ll head off the problem,” he says, cupping my face. “Thanks to you, Mia.”

  “But what if—”

  The doorbell rings and we both say, “Leslie,” at the same time, referencing his godmother, the woman who was his mother’s best friend, and who now protects Grayson like he is her own. We both know this because she’s the only person, outside of me, that he allows to enter the gates without his approval first.

  “I love her,” I whisper, “but I really want to talk about this Ri situation. And I really just want to be with you right now.”

  “She’s going to be ecstatic to see you.” He strokes my hair, tender in a way that defies what a hard businessman he is. “Go make her day and answer the door. I’ll call Eric back and see if I can get anything else out of him.” He kisses me and turns away, already walking toward the patio, which to me is telling. He’s concerned and he’s trying not to show it.

  I force myself to walk toward the front door and I yank it open. Leslie stands there looking as elegant and pretty as ever, her dark hair shiny and perfect. Her petite frame and perfect skin defy her age, which she teasingly changes all the time, but it’s older than she looks. Of that, I’m certain. Her expression is that of shock and then pleasure. “Mia!” She rushes forward and hugs me. “You’re back,” she says, leaning back to look at me. “You are back, right?”

  “Yes,” I say. “I’m back and this time for good.” And I have never meant any words more than I do those.

  A few minutes later, Leslie and I are in the kitchen drinking coffee, but Grayson hasn’t appeared. I do my best to eagerly interact with Leslie, but I’m worried. Ri is setting Grayson up in a way that would destroy him and maybe even put him behind bars. I can’t let that happen, and that means I have to use my leverage with Ri, but Grayson won’t like it. He’ll forbid it and that’s going to be a problem.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Mia

  I spend a good twenty minutes at the kitchen island chatting with Leslie with no sign of Grayson returning from the patio, which is starting to worry me. “I have cookies in the car I didn’t bring in,” Leslie says. “I brought them for Grayson to take back to the city.”

  “Your famous oatmeal raisin?” I ask eagerly.

  “Of course, and you know that I love that you love them.” She holds up a finger. “I’ll be right back.” She hurries away and my gaze slides to the patio door where I will Grayson to appear, but still, he doesn’t. I finish off my coffee and set the mug in the sink, pressing my hands to the granite counter and praying desperately that I didn’t find out about Ri’s plan to hurt Grayson too late to stop it from becoming a major problem. I spend about three minutes reminding myself that Grayson is filthy rich, honest, and powerful. He also has thousands of attorneys surrounding him. He’ll beat this.

  “I’m back with the cookies!” Leslie announces, and I eagerly rotate to face her finding her holding open a Tupperware filled with cookies. “Breakfast of champions,” she adds.

  “Indeed it is,” I say, and I welcome the distraction of a cookie for breakfast. “I really missed these and you,” I declare as I finish off the scrumptious treat.

>   “I missed you, too,” she says, her tone sobering. “He missed you, Mia. He wasn’t right without you. He just wasn’t. He was—”

  When I might ask her to expand on that thought, she seems to shake herself, and then refocus. “You have a full Tupperware container of cookies. You and Grayson can take them back to your place and—oh—well, I mean if you’re living with him again. Are you back at the apartment?”

  I don’t know how to reply, and a million emotions assail me. The apartment. Our apartment. The place I called home with Grayson. Am I going back there? I want to. I so want to, but—the flaws. The problems. “She shouldn’t have ever left,” Grayson says, appearing across from me, and then rounding the island to pull me under his arm and next to him. “As far as I’m concerned,” he says, looking at me, not Leslie, “with me is where she belongs.”

  Heat and emotions rush through me. “I’ll let you two have some time,” Leslie says. “Obviously this reunion is new. Make it a good one, you two.” She winks and heads for the door.

  Grayson and I stand there, watching her leave and the minute the door shuts, I turn in his arms and stare up at him. “You’re right,” I say. “I shouldn’t have ever left. I regret that more every minute I’m with you again.”

  “Then you’re coming home.”

  “What about our flaws?” I ask, feeling insecure when I’ve never felt such things with Grayson.

  His hand settles on my cheek. “Baby, we’re the most perfect thing in my life, but perhaps that’s the flaw. My inability, our inabilities, to see a flaw because seeing a flaw means we make sure that we deal with it before we let it hurt us. Come home, baby. Move back into our home.”

  “Yes,” I say with no hesitation. “Yes, I want to come home.”

  He cups my face. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” He kisses me. “Let’s go take a shower.”

  “Yes, but—”

  He scoops me up and starts walking toward the bedroom. “Grayson, what about the call? What did Eric say?”

  “Absolutely nothing new.”

  “You were talking to him forever.”

  He enters the bedroom and crosses to the bathroom, setting me down in front of the shower. “Grayson, I’m worried. What did he say?”

  He drags my tee over my head. “I was sidetracked by a call from Japan.” He molds me close, unhooks my bra and kisses me. “Remember? I bought into a convention center in Tokyo.”

  “Right. I still can’t get my head around that. That’s a huge buy-in.”

  “Yes. It was. It kept me busy. I had to stay busy while you were gone.”

  And he did. He tried to fuck me out of his system. It’s not a good thought, but it’s also not one I can blame him for. I left. I distrusted him. He pulls his shirt over his head and turns on the shower. “We should go see it soon,” he adds, dragging me into the shower.

  “I’d like that,” I say, as he molds me close, the spray of warm water all but blocked by his big, wonderful body. “Have you ever been to Tokyo?”

  “Not with you,” he replies, backing me into the corner, his fingers tangling into my hair, the thick ridge of his erection nestled between my legs. “There are so many things I want to do with you and experience with you, Mia. Things I’ve seen and I want you to see. Things I haven’t seen and I want to see with you for the first time.” His mouth closes down on mine, tongue flicking against mine, and I moan with the possessive taste of him. There is no part of me that doesn’t want this man, and as much as I fear there will be a part of him that doesn’t want me that’s not what I feel.

  He cups my backside and squeezes, his cheek coming to rest against mine, his lips at my ear, “So many things I want to do to you.” He presses inside me and his mouth crashes down on mine, and at least for now our flaws disappear. There is no Ri, there is no past, there is only the future, where I want to live forever.

  ***

  Hours later, Grayson and I have both dressed, him in jeans and a T-shirt, all black, while I choose a soft emerald green blouse and faded jeans. We both pack up for the return to the city and then finally sit at the island and eat the pizza we didn’t get to last night, or rather, order a fresh one to enjoy. We talk about Japan, a project he’s excited about and I gobble up every detail, the way I always had in the past. He wants to take me there and there is this question in the air that we don’t discuss about my future: Will I go back to work for Bennett? It’s not a topic we dive into now, not when him pulling me off that case was what really left us vulnerable for a breakup. But that topic is coming and coming soon. I have to go back to work on Monday. I will go back to work Monday, and I will meet with Ri. No matter how Grayson feels about it. We’re going to fight, but this time I’m not leaving when we do. This time I’m going to fight and win because it’s about protecting him, something I’ve failed at miserably.

  Grayson feels this topic in the air as well. I see it in his eyes and sense it in his mood, so much so that when Eric and Davis arrive and he stands up to let them in, he stops by my chair, tilts my head back and says, “I won’t make the same mistakes again. You have my word.” He kisses me and heads toward the door, and I know he’s talking about pulling me off that case.

  He wants me to come back to work with him, but right now we’re about to find out more about the threat against Grayson. We’re about to find out how hard we all have to fight. My mind goes back to that interview at the DA’s office and the words of one of the men talking about Grayson: I love taking down a rich fucker who thinks his shit doesn’t stink. I’m going to get about ten promotions for burying that rich, fake do-gooder.

  I want Eric and Davis to walk in the door and tell us that this problem is over and that I can just leave Ri behind, but I know deep in my gut they won’t.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Mia

  I’m still behind the island when Eric and Davis, two men I know well, enter the connected living room area. Both good looking, confident, in jeans and T-shirts, which on Davis feels weird, awkward almost, but Eric is another story. Eric is an ex-Navy SEAL with a Harvard background, a brilliant financial mind, and a sleeve of tattoos down one arm. He’s someone who manages to feel comfortable in every moment, while Davis prefers the edge of discomfort.

  Grayson is on their heels and he immediately crosses to stand beside me, the action an assumption that the other two men will join us on the opposite side. Instead, they halt in the living area, a good distance away from us, too far for a real conversation. “We need to see you alone,” Davis announces, speaking to Grayson and obviously shutting me out.

  “Mia is with me,” Grayson says. “That means she’s with us.”

  “And yet she was with Ri,” Davis replies, and like anyone close to Grayson, he actually has the courage to look at me when he makes that statement. “How do we know she’s not being inserted now to weaken you?”

  “I’m on Team Mia, for the record,” Eric quickly adds.

  “My job is to protect you, Grayson,” Davis argues. “And beyond my job, you’re a friend. I don’t want you fucked any more than you already are.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask quickly. “Fucked how?”

  “Yes,” Grayson says. “What does that mean?”

  “I really must insist that I speak to you alone,” Davis says.

  My temper snaps. “I didn’t sleep with Ri, Davis,” I state. “I was never with Ri. He gave me a job with a sign-on bonus at a time when my father was in debt to a bunch of very bad people. I wasn’t going to ask Grayson for money. What kind of bitch would I be to use him for money? I couldn’t do that to him or us, and when Ri tried to force a personal relationship, I started looking for a job, which is why I was at the DA’s office. And in case you don’t remember, Davis, I saw a naked woman pressed against the man I love, my fiancé. I wasn’t in a good place emotionally, I was dying inside, but I still loved him. I didn’t, I wouldn’t, I haven’t ever tried to hurt him.” I press my hands to the counter
. “Questions?”

  Davis stares at me for several intense moments and then eyes Grayson, who says, “Can we get down to business now?”

  Davis shifts his attention back to me. “You always did have a way of getting to the point. Welcome back, Mia.”

  Eric joins us at the island, pressing his hands on the tile. “Mia,” he greets, standing directly across from me.

  I slide the cookies toward him. “Leslie made them.”

  “Oatmeal raisin?” he asks hopefully.

  “Yes,” I say, looking at Davis. “None for you.”

  “Fuck, Mia,” he says. “Have a heart, will you?”

  I laugh. “No. You’re a bastard. No cookie for you.”

  “You know I’m just protecting him,” he says.

  “Which,” I say, “is the only reason I forgive you.”

  “What did you find out?” Grayson asks. “Is there a collaboration with the DA to take me down?”

  “Yes,” Davis says. “There is, and it’s already six feet deep with layers of evidence.”

  An explosion of fear for Grayson rocks me, but he’s calm, cool, his tone even as he asks, “Evidence of what?”

  “Money laundering, racketeering, bribing judges, the list goes on and on,” Davis states. “This is an elaborate set-up that might have taken years of work.”

  “Which brings me to Mia,” Eric says.

  “Me?” I ask, stiffening while Grayson’s hand settles on my back, a silent show of support.

  “You,” he says. “I think the Becky show was supposed to break you two up. It was supposed to distract Grayson.”

  I pant out a breath. “I think so, too. I’ve been thinking that for about twelve hours straight, and believe me, it’s a painful realization.”

  “None of us saw it,” Grayson says. “Not me. Not you. Not the people around us.”

  “That number that texted you the day of the funeral,” Eric says, “it was made from a phone that’s had two users since and none were Becky. We’re working on more.”