Текст книги "Gold"

Автор книги: K. A. Linde

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Текущая страница: 25 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

Three Weeks Later

BRYNA STOOD IN FRONT OF THE SPRAWLING MANSION her mother considered home on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Her mother had only moved forty-five minutes away from her father’s house in the Hills, and Bryna realized that the last time she had seen her mother was the summer before her senior year of high school. That was two and a half years ago. It made her heart ache.

Luckily, her father was at her side. She didn’t want to admit that she was scared and thought about walking away right then and there. Not that she could. They had called ahead to let her know that they were coming, but she still thought about it.

“Are you ready?” her father asked.

She nodded and then reached forward and rang the doorbell. A minute later, her mother pulled the door inward. She was every bit as beautiful as Bryna remembered her. She was a classic Hollywood beauty with shoulder-length blonde hair, bright blue eyes, a porcelain face like a goddess, and a slender figure. She was dressed to the nines in a cherry-red dress with a narrow waist and high heels. Her makeup was subtle and perfect.

This was the Olivia Bendel that Bryna had grown up with.

She startled as if she were surprised that they had arrived even though they had called to say they were coming.

“Lawrence,” her mother said. Her voice crisp.

“Olivia.” He smiled even though Bryna knew this was hard for him. “Good to see you.”

“Likewise.”

“Hey, Mom,” Bryna said. She was dressed more casually in a tight-fitting chambray button-up tucked into white shorts and brown fringe booties.

“Bryna, come in. Come in.”

Once they were inside, her mother reached forward and tentatively hugged her. Her mother actually seemed to have more substance to her than the last time Bryna had seen her.

She seemed a little nervous herself about what was happening. “I have lemonade in the sun room. Lawrence, you still like a whiskey and Coke, I assume?”

“Lemonade is fine with me for now,” he said.

Bryna knew it had taken a lot of strength for him not to bite back.

“All domestic-like,” she muttered under her breath.

Bryna and her father shared a look. They both smiled at the same time. This was the relationship she was completely used to.

Her mother busied herself with pouring lemonade and then taking a seat. She played the part of the entertainer well. Bryna would never have guessed that her mother’s life wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Last she had heard, her mom was banging the cabana boy, drinking heavily, and on coke.

“So, how can I help you?” she asked politely. “This visit is most unexpected.”

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Mom. I’m your daughter.”

Olivia pursed her lips. “What’s all this about?”

Bryna looked at her dad, and he nodded his head.

“I want a relationship with you, Mom. I’ve had a rough couple of years. It was hard, not having you around.”

“Well, if you’re here to guilt-trip me—”

“I’m not,” she interrupted. “Things are finally good with Dad again, and I want that for us.”

“Of course,” Olivia said slowly. She glanced between the two of them. “I’m not surprised you reached out to your father first. You always were a daddy’s girl.”

“Olivia, it’s not a competition,” he said sternly.

“Of course not. You’ve already won. Hotshot directing job. Big house in Beverly Hills. Harmony Prep. How could she say no?”

“Stop!” Bryna cried. “It’s like I’m back in high school. I can’t stand you arguing, and that’s not why we’re here.”

“Then, why are you here?” her mother asked. She’d lost all her poise in that question.

She looked like Mom again. It made Bryna smile.

“Dad wants me to have a relationship with you. In fact, this was his idea.”

“Lawrence?” Olivia asked, surprised.

“I don’t want her to grow up without a mother, Olivia.”

“And…your wife?” she asked.

“Celia is not her mother,” he said flatly. “She’s her stepmother.”

“I see.”

“I want to have a relationship with you, Mom. It comes down to whether or not you want to have one with me,” Bryna told her.

Olivia sighed heavily and let a hesitant smile come to her face. “Of course I want to have a relationship with you.”

Bryna took a deep breath. This was the tricky part. “I love you, Mom, but I hate to see you hurting yourself. I’ve been let down a lot, and I want to move forward with my life. I don’t know if I can do that with your…lifestyle.”

Olivia colored and looked away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. You’re a great actress, but you can’t hide drugs from people who have lived in your house for most of their lives.”

Her father frowned and looked away. Bryna hoped he realized his part in all of this. He had never stopped her mother. Maybe he wouldn’t have been able to, but he hadn’t tried either.

“I’m not judging you. You can live your life however you want. I’ve made mistakes, but I don’t want your mistakes, too. I want a mom,” she whispered.

“I’ve been getting help,” Olivia whispered. Their eyes met. “I had a bad accident a couple of months ago, and I’ve been trying to be better, for me and for you, even though I didn’t think you wanted me in your life.”

“I’ve always wanted you in my life. I just want someone who isn’t self-destructive. I was self-destructive enough for the both of us.”

Her mother wiped a tear from under her eye. “I can’t promise it will be better today or tomorrow or next week. I’ve been battling this for years, but I took the first step. I’m going to therapy and drug and alcohol counseling. I’m trying.”

Bryna broke out into a smile. “That’s what I want. I want us to be a family again…even if our family is different.”

Olivia rushed across the room and wrapped her daughter in a hug. “I’m so sorry for everything, Bryna. The absence was my fault. I want to be better. I will be better.”

“I know. Me, too, Mom.”

Olivia cried into Bryna’s hair, and they both held each other like that for a while.

Then, her mom pulled back and wiped her tears. “We’ll make this work,” she promised.

Bryna looked to her dad, and he put a protective arm around her.

This was her family—a broken dad, a broken mom, a new stepmother, a jerk stepbrother, withdrawn twin stepsisters, and a brand-new baby halfsister. It wasn’t perfect, far from it, but it was hers.

“We all will.”

When Bryna got back to her house, her father had to rush off to work. He was a busy man, even two days before Christmas. Luckily, Eric was waiting for her when she arrived.

“Hey,” he said. His whole face brightened when he saw her. “How did it go?”

“Bad.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry.”

She laughed. “Just kidding. It went great.”

“Geez. Fucking freak me out!”

“You’re too easy.” She giggled. “I mean, not everything was fixed today. But it will work itself out. I’m a persistent bitch.”

“I have no doubt it will work out.”

“Me, too.” She smiled up at him and drew him in for a kiss. “I hate that you have to leave today,” she groaned.

“I know. How can I leave?”

“I have an idea. Don’t. Just stay here. Have Christmas with me.”

He rubbed his nose against hers. “You know I would love to do that, but my parents miss me, too. Have to spend some time with them.”

“Maybe…I could meet them someday.”

He smiled. “You will definitely have to meet them. They will love you.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Good.”

“I’m glad that you’re going to have a real Christmas with your family though. Last year, you told me you hated Christmas, and I don’t want that to be the case anymore. New memories to replace the old.”

She slid her fingers around his waist and held him close. “Memories with you.”

“For many years to come,” he said, punctuating the sentence with a kiss. “I do have a Christmas gift for you though.”

“You do?” she asked with excitement. “I didn’t know you were getting me anything!”

“Gifts are a trigger for you, so I didn’t want to raise your expectations of me,” he joked.

“You’re crazy. I already have high expectations for you.”

“In that case, I’m screwed.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it. What is it?” she asked. She looked at his hands and then down at his pockets. All seemed to be empty.

“Come on. I’ll show you.”

She was intrigued. She had never gotten a present from Eric. She understood where he would be worried though. After a house, jewelry, a key to a penthouse suite, and lots of clothes, it would be pretty intimidating to pick out a present for her. Not that she needed anything. She was happy with Eric. That was what mattered.

With L.A. traffic, it was a solid half an hour before they reached their destination, which turned out to be a small ice cream shop in West Hollywood.

“Oh my God.” She laughed hysterically.

She had heard of this place before, but she’d never been here. She couldn’t believe he was taking her to get ice cream. It was going to turn into a Christmas tradition.

“I was going to take you to the Sugar Factory,” he said as he stepped out of the car. “But then we came to L.A. to be with your family.”

“The place doesn’t matter when I’m with you.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

He took her hand, and they walked across the parking lot.

A hostess met them inside. “Just two?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Eric confirmed.

“This way.” She walked them over to a booth in front of the windows and then handed them two menus. “Enjoy!”

“Welcome! Do you know what you want to drink?” a waitress asked when she walked over.

Eric plopped the menus down on top of each other and handed them to the waitress, unopened. “We want the biggest banana split you have.”

The woman’s eyes widened as she wrote their order down. “For just the two of you?”

Eric nodded.

“Good luck,” the waitress said before disappearing.

Bryna gave Eric a curious look. “Why am I suddenly frightened by her reaction?”

“Because I picked this place with the guarantee that it had one of the biggest banana splits in the city.” He laughed. “And you’d better eat every last bite.”

Bryna leaned forward in her seat, all business. “All right. What are the terms?”

“If you finish the whole thing by yourself, then I’ll pick up the tab.”

“What a horrible Christmas present,” she joked. “And if I don’t finish it?”

“Then, you’re going to have to hang out with me again.”

The words were so familiar, reminiscent of their first time really hanging out. This was where it had all started. Just like this.

She stuck her hand out. “Deal. You’d better be ready to pay up.”

Eric shook her hand with laughter in his eyes. “Oh, I always pay up.”

A couple of minutes later, an enormous banana split was set down between them. Bryna’s eyes were huge when she saw the size of the ice cream. It was maybe double the size of the one at the Sugar Factory. How the hell did anyone finish this? They would need a large class of hungry fifth-graders to even give it a go.

Bryna took the two spoons that the waitress had left for them. She arched an eyebrow and then handed one over to Eric. “Eat up, Cowboy. We’re going to be spending a lot more time together.”

“I hoped you might say that.”

They smiled at each other and then started in on their banana split.

Much like her family, she and Eric weren’t perfect. They argued. They made fun of each other. They teased and joked and sometimes even ridiculed one another. But underneath it all was bottomless love and understanding.

Bryna didn’t need the money or riches or trips. She didn’t need any of it.

It’d turned out that the only thing she really needed to make her life better was Eric. With him, everything else seemed to fall into place.

And as they toasted to their first year together, Bryna knew all would be well.

The End

FIND OUT WHERE IT ALL STARTED FOR BRYNA IN DIAMONDS (ALL THAT GLITTERS, #1).

Amazon

TURN THE PAGE FOR A SNEAK PEEK OF K.A. LINDE’S NEXT BOOK COMING THIS FALL.

Struck from the Record

(Record, #4)

A standalone novel from Senator Brady Maxwell brother, Clay’s point of view.

Struck from the Record

Chapter 1

“FUCK!” she screamed.

Her head fell backward into the heavy law books with an audible smack. Clay leveraged her body against the bookshelf as he thrust upward. His hands gripped her bare ass where he’d shoved the tiny green thing she considered a dress out of the fucking way. Their bodies smacked together, and her screams were growing more insistent.

Clay hadn’t said much. He didn’t have to. She was going to come over the adrenaline of getting fucked against a bookcase in his clerk office at the Supreme Court. She hadn’t believed he actually worked there, and so he had set out to prove her wrong. Since his term as a clerk had come to a close, he figured fucking her was a fitting going away present.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she yelled, loud enough that he was sure her echoes were carried down the hallway.

He didn’t care. It was the middle of the night, a week before Christmas, and no one else was here. Even the diligent, annoying douche who worked for Justice Scalia hadn’t been here when Clay had taken her into the building.

Clay leaned forward into her and pounded forcefully, until she reached her climax, and her screams died out. He liked vocal women, but sometimes screaming into his ear made it fucking difficult to concentrate. Now with her fucking quiet, he focused on getting himself off, which really had been the whole point.

“Jesus Christ,” she said breathily. “Fuck me. You’re going to make me go a second time.”

“Shut up,” he said forcefully. He hauled her off the bookshelf, walked her over to his desk, and threw her back down on the scattered mess that he would have to deal with later this week.

She groaned. “Make me.” Her eyes glistened. “Choke me.”

His eyebrows rose. He’d expected the girl to be a slut, but he hadn’t anticipated kink.

Whatever. I’m in.

His hand reached out and wrapped around her throat. Her eyes fluttered closed in pleasure. He hadn’t even done anything. He was just holding her like a doll he was about to shake around.

With his hand positioned at her throat, he drilled into her at a bruising pace. She was making mewling noises, and with him in complete control of her, he found them hot. This was a better view too. He could stare at her tits. She had a seriously nice rack. That was why he’d let her question him when he’d said he worked for the Supreme Court. It was fun to have people look at him in disbelief. Much better than when they recognized his name.

He was close at this point. Without asking if she was about to hit her second climax, he tightened his grip on her body and came inside of her. He shook as he finished. His breath was coming out in heavy bursts. It had taken more effort than he normally expelled with her screams still ringing in his ears.

He removed the grip on her throat and was surprised to find a red handprint where he had been holding her. He must have been clutching her harder than he thought. She probably would like if she ended up with bruises.

Clay pulled out and trashed the condom. He turned his back on her and adjusted his black suit. After this rendezvous, he’d have to send it to the dry cleaners.

When he faced her once more, the girl was still lying on the desk. He gave her a once over in appreciation of her mostly naked form, still laid out, and unable to move. She looked spent and exhausted, but it was time for her to get the fuck out of his office.

“All right. Let’s go,” he said briskly.

She sat up on her elbows and gave him a seductive look. “What about round two?”

“I appreciate your vote of confidence,” he said sarcastically. “I might be Casanova, but I don’t have another one in me right now.”

“Well, come on, Casanova. Let’s go to your place, and we can have seconds and thirds. I’m suddenly ravenous.” Her eyes glittered with excitement. Her body was still flushed from the vigorous fucking.

“I don’t think so,” Clay said, suddenly bored. It had been fun when it was a challenge. He liked challenges, but this was too easy. He could pick up any girl at a bar if he wanted to. At least put some fucking effort into it.

She pouted, but had enough dignity to not say anything else. She immediately covered herself up and followed him out. He got her safely into a cab, and then took his own back to his townhouse. Once it reached their destination, he absentmindedly threw the driver a twenty. His place was convenient as it was only short distance from his work. He enjoyed the bachelor feel to the place, but tonight it felt cold and uninviting. Maybe he should have taken up that girl on her offer. As soon as the thought hit his mind, he knew that he never would have gone through with it.

He had spent his life constantly on the edge between recklessness and complete control. He had a game plan—top of his class at Yale, clerk at the Supreme Court, federal judge, attorney general. Thinking of it both excited him and made him feel sick. He wanted to live up to the man his father expected him to be, but following the mold made him crazy. It was a double-edged sword. A line he constantly skirted.

That girl had been an immediate pleasure, a reckless pleasure…not one needed to indulge in a second time to discover anything more about her. She had been a treat for completing his clerkship and moving one step closer on his path. But tomorrow, he would have to clear out his desk and get serious about deciding which private practice offer he would accept to begin in January.

He had been staring at the three offers for over a week now, and they would be expecting an answer by Christmas…maybe New Year’s at the latest. He would push it back if he could. Recklessness was creeping up into his game plan all over again.

But not tonight.

He shrugged out of his suit coat and walked to his wet bar. He passed over the hard liquor and cracked open a beer. He’d already had a few drinks tonight, but the beer didn’t seem to quench his thirst. He knew it had something to do with his clerkship coming to a close. Another thing completed on a checklist. It didn’t seem fulfilling in the way it had when he had been accepted.

Clay stood and fished his cell phone out of his pocket. Maybe he should go home to Andrea tonight. It might be nice to get out of the city for a bit. Spend some time in a real house, even if it was in the D.C. suburbs and not at his place in Chapel Hill.

He dialed Andrea’s number and waited for her to answer. It clicked over to voicemail. He scowled down at the phone. “What the fuck?”

Then it almost immediately lit up again.

“Can I help you?” Andrea asked curtly, when he answered the phone.

Clay cracked a smile. There’s my bitch. “Hey babe, I’m coming home tonight. Are you there? I’m tired of the city.”

“And what was her name that made you so tired?” she asked. Her voice was high and musical just like he had always found it these past fourteen years they had known each other.

“Should I remember?”

And he didn’t. He didn’t even know if he had bothered asking for her name. It hadn’t mattered at the time. Had she been blonde or brunette? Everything about her was a mystery except the feel of her ass in his hands, the sight of her scrunched up green dress, the way the material stretched tight across her rack, and the red imprint on her throat. Everything else was a blur.

“Your standards are slipping.”

“I’m still with you. Can’t be that low.” Clay smirked.

“I’m out of your league, honey.”

“Always have been,” he agreed easily.

“Why do I put up with you anyway?” Andrea sounded bored, not irritated. She was never irritated with him. Not really. She didn’t give a shit what he did. Just like he didn’t care what she did in her spare time.

Clay had met Andrea on Hilton Head beach when he was almost thirteen years old. They had spent every summer together on that beach until her parents finally split up after their sophomore year of high school. Six long years of endless arguments and limitless pampering to make up for the fights jaded Andrea’s soft heart. By the time they met up again at Yale their freshman year of college, they were both very different people.

Romance was wasted on them, and so they had entered into an arrangement of a lifetime. They could do whatever they wanted, but at the end of the day, they would be together. Guard their hearts. No feelings would get hurt. They wouldn’t turn out like her parents, and he wouldn’t have anyone in his life to disappoint for his behavior. It was perfect.

“You don’t put up with me. You enjoy it. It’s all my charm.”

“Oh right,” she drawled. “That Maxwell charm. It does have a certain appeal.”

“Every appeal,” he said confidently. “So, are you home? I’ll grab another cab and drive out there.”

Andrea made a tinkling giggle. “Do you think you’re the only one who can have fun, Clay Maxwell?”

A smile spread across his face. “You’re bad, and it turns me on.”

“Well, you’ll have to do something about it by yourself. I won’t be home tonight. I have…other plans,” she said breathily, for his benefit, he was sure.

His body itched with the sudden challenge she was posing. Andrea always seemed to do this. He could fuck so many other girls, and then one little giggle from her made him want to claim her all over again. Not as his girlfriend or his wife. He shuddered at the very thought.

She was just a continual challenge. She was beautiful with long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a tall lean frame that he knew intimately. But every time he thought he had her figured out, every time he was sure she was going to do one thing, she would do something else. She liked to play games, and he liked her games.

Because at the end of the day, he knew exactly where her head was in all of this. It wasn’t seeking out a Harry Winston engagement ring. It wasn’t demanding an I love you before bed. It wasn’t a scowl for his philandering or the way he treated his brother or innumerable other reasons. It was just an arrangement for two people who cared about each other…in their own way.

“Pray tell me, love. Who is the lucky bastard?” Clay asked.

He was already throwing his coat back on and changing from his light blue tie into a purple striped bowtie. Andrea came from old Southern plantation money, and his family could stretch their lineage back to Thomas Jefferson himself. They had been in real estate in the Triangle area of North Carolina for just as long. He was a Southern boy through and through, and if there was one thing Andrea couldn’t resist, it was when he acted like it.

He pressed the phone into his ear, as he expertly tied the bowtie.

“He’s no one you know,” she told him.

“I know everyone.”

“Not this one.”

“Stop teasing me.”

She giggled. “Oh, but you don’t really want me to do that, Clay. You probably want me to describe him on the phone. Should I start with his suit or how big I think he is?”

“Always good to know your competition,” he said, adjusting the tie one more time.

“Well, I don’t have time. I have to get back to my game. I don’t want him to think I have a doting boyfriend at home waiting for me.”

Clay snorted. “Doting. Sounds just like me.”

Andrea was silent for a moment, and if he couldn’t hear the bar noise in the background he might have thought she had hung up on him. “Sometimes it’s not that far off,” she said quietly.

“Right,” he said with a laugh. “Doting, Andrea?”

“You’re an ass.”

“Yeah. You’ve always known that. Now, I’ll show you doting. Where are you?”

“Don’t ruin my game, Clay,” she said without conviction. He could hear the tell tale signs of excitement in her voice. He was sure she was pouting on the other line to look like she was upset. Poor schlup.

“I would never,” he lied.

“I don’t ruin yours.”

“You do if you can help it. Now tell me,” he demanded.

“Fine,” she said. “But you better bring you’re A-game. He’s a keeper.”

“Don’t I always?”

She told him the bar she was at. It wasn’t far from his place, which made him wonder if she had picked it hoping for this outcome. She was conniving, and he wouldn’t put it past her.

Clay felt emboldened. His melancholy from his apartment evaporating as he left to chase down his girl.