Loving The Enemy Read online




  Table of Contents

  Epilogue

  Jason

  Emily

  Loving The Enemy

  Jordan Silver

  Copyright © 2017 by Jordan Silver

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Jason

  2. Emily

  3. Jason

  4. Jason

  5. Emily

  6. Jason

  7. Jason

  8. Jason

  9. Jason

  10. Jason

  11. Jason

  12. Emily

  13. Emily

  14. Jason

  15. Jason

  16. Emily

  17. Jason

  18. Emily

  19. Emily

  20. Jason

  21. Emily

  22. Jason

  23. Jason

  24. Emily

  Epilogue

  1

  Jason

  “Bring her in here.” I dropped back into the seat behind my desk and rubbed a hand over my tired eyes. It was long past time for me to be home relaxing with a stiff drink, which was sorely needed after the day from hell. Instead I’m stuck here dealing with inept staff and this fucking public nuisance.

  “Get your hands off me. I know where it is asshole.” Letting out a deep breath I braced myself for the shit show that was about to walk through my door. She came barreling in in high dudgeon, all five foot four of her, looking like two scoops of hammered shit. No one seeing her would believe she was the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in the world. Or used to be.

  She pulled away from the guard who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here, I knew the feeling. I dismissed my men with a slight nod of my head and prepared to face the dragon. If she wasn’t such a pain in the ass she’d be cute as a button. No wait, her cute days were long behind her. These days she would be more aptly described as fucking gorgeous. If you could overlook that mouth of hers that is. Not to mention her rancid disposition.

  She flounced her way over to my desk with steam coming from her eyes and ears and I waited for the lash of her tongue to get this shit started. It was always the same with us. No fake hellos or how do you do? She likes to just jump right in, barrels blazing, and not a care for her safety. I’m sure she knows, or has heard enough about me to know what I’m capable of.

  Maybe she thinks that being female gives her a pass. That I won’t treat her the way I have so many others before her who’d crossed me once too often. Maybe it was time I disavowed her of that notion. She was fast approaching the point of no return and whether she knew it or not, I have no qualms about putting her little ass in check.

  “You… slimy, manipulative, unconscionable piece of shit.” I didn’t even bat a lash at her. At least she was inventive. The shit she throws at my head keeps changing from day to day. Yesterday I was a festering sore on the ass of humanity, or was that the day before? Who can keep up with her shit? “Was there something you wanted Emily?” I knew my calm voice and relaxed pose as I leaned back in my chair would piss her off farther, and I do love pissing her off. She’s so easily rattled.

  I took in her small frame in the blouse and jeans with the killer heels that brought her up to about five seven. I guess she’s trying to reach eye level but she’d have to go a lot higher to get to my height of six foot two. Her hair flowed around her shoulders with a healthy shine that showcased the blonde highlights in her ash blonde mane. She had bottle green eyes with dark brown specks… and how the fuck, do you know that? I pulled myself back from my perusal of her feminine attributes as she began this evening’s tirade.

  “Yes, you fiend, I want what’s mine, what’s rightfully mine and I’m not leaving here without it.” Her argument never changes. It’s been two weeks since her old man died, two weeks since she’s been coming here like this raising hell and making a spectacle of herself because she refused to face reality. Why was she my burden to bear? What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this shit?

  Until a short while ago I’d never even met her. I won’t say that I hadn’t seen her. You’d have to have been dead the last year and a half to miss her constant appearance on TMZ or one of those other televised gossip rags that followed the rich and clueless around like slavering dogs after a meaty bone. But it wasn’t until her old man died that I had got to know her personally. If only her adoring fans could see her now.

  “We’ve been through this. There is no money. Your dad lost it all long before he…” I stopped short of reminding her that her dearly beloved had taken the coward’s way out and eaten his gun instead of facing the music when the Barbarians came barking at his gate. It’s the price you pay when you get caught dabbling in less than ethical business dealings.

  “That’s a lie. How could he have lost it all? I know what daddy owned, what we had before you stole it all.” For a moment there a soft childlike innocence shone through her eyes, but was gone in a flash. One thing I can say for her, she has her old man’s strength and guts. Hopefully she didn’t inherit his penchant for shady dealings; the corrupt fuck.

  I’ve been trying to spare her the truth of what the man she held in such high regard was really like. There was no point in shattering her world completely, but she was making it harder and harder as the days go by. Her coming here like this day after day only makes me question that decision more and more.

  “Have you eaten?” The question threw her for a sec but she regrouped rather quickly and I couldn’t help but admire her fortitude. That blueblood pride of hers keeps her upper lip stiff and her back straight at all times. She’d been born with that shit, I had to earn mine. “That’s none of your damn business, show me the books.”

  Here we go. I guess I could settle this shit once and for all by showing them to her, but then I’d expose her old man’s underbelly and shatter her ideal, that hero worship she wears like a badge, but I didn’t want to do that to her. Not that I owed her shit, but I didn’t have it in me to bring her that low. I sometimes wonder why.

  Since my earlier days I’d learned not to give a damn. I didn’t get where I am by being soft, or caring about what others felt. But somehow this slip of a girl had wormed her way under my protective shell, and so, here we are. Everyday at end of business I find myself at the wrong end of her tongue for the past two weeks. All because I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the truth about her ass of an old man.

  “I am under no obligation to do that. Now if that’s all…” I stood as if about to leave, but I knew she wasn’t done with me yet. She stood her ground and even took a step closer and I couldn’t help but admire her lack of fear. I’m sure that at some point, between the first day we met and now, she must’ve done her research, so she’d know my reputation. Still it didn’t stop her from coming here and tangling with me. Brave girl.

  “I’m not leaving here until you show me the papers that says my dad signed our business over to you.” Oh, those papers. I had to run it through in my mind to remember if there was anything on there that would tip her off to the brevity of her old man’s situation there at the end. As far as I can recall there was nothing there that would raise any red flags so there was no reason not to, except to goad her.

  “Very well.” I pressed the intercom for my secretary who answered right away. As if she were waiting for it. Honestly I was surprised that she was still here, I’d given her permission to leave ten minutes ago. I was beginning to suspect that some members of my staff liked to
hang around for the fireworks. “Sir.” Eager beaver. Was that laughter I heard in her voice?

  “Bring me the bill of sale for the Bronson deal.” The firebrand in front of me relaxed just a little and I saw the tiredness in her eyes, the pinched set of her lips and the way her shoulders drooped. It bothered me, seeing her like this, and I asked myself not for the first time why it should.

  I was pondering that question when my secretary Mrs. Smith came in, papers in hand. She smiled a greeting to Emily who to my surprise returned it as her eyes followed the folder that would hold the answer to all her questions. Before today she’d been screaming about the take over papers, things that were of no concern of hers. Today was the first time she’d asked to see the actual transfer of ownership.

  “You may go home Anita.” I gave her a stern look, which I was sure she would ignore if she so chose, because she’s just as ornery as this one. She rolled her eyes at me out of sight of the young girl before making her way out of the room. I waited until she’d cleared the door before taking my seat again and signaling for Emily to do the same across from me.

  I waited for her to comply before passing the folder across the desk to her. I didn’t miss the slight tremble in her hands as she reached for it, or the way her lip trembled and her breath hitched. She too must be realizing that this was it. Once she read those papers there would be no doubt that the company was legitimately mine and there would be no need for her to come here like this any longer. It would also be the end of something more. She’d have to accept that the company that was supposed to be her inheritance was no longer.

  It pisses me off that Timothy Bronson hadn’t prepared his wife and kid for this. How could the man have been so selfish as to take his own life before making preparations for his family? I’d bought the company for a song that’s true, but surely his debts hadn’t taken it all. Two hundred million dollars was a lot of money. Granted the man had been worth a hundred times that at one time. But still, I can’t believe that he’d left them the way he had, in such dire straits. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as all that.

  I watched as she pored over the papers and saw the moment she accepted the truth. “Thank you.” Defeated, that’s the word that rang through my head when she passed the folder back before she stood from the visitor’s chair in front of my desk and turned for the door. There was a sick lump in my throat as I watched her walk away for what might be the last time.

  “Emily…” I started to call out but it was too late; she was gone. I sat in my chair for another five minutes questioning the feelings that plagued me. Why should I care? It’s not like she was a little kid. She was a grown woman of twenty-four. Supposedly she had a college degree, so she could go out and get a job like everyone else. It’s what I had to do.

  Still, I didn’t like that look of dejection on her face as she left. And what’s more, I think I’m going to miss her coming after me like a nut every evening before I was allowed to leave and go about my business. I wonder why she always chose this time of day to show up here. No matter, it’s over.

  I loosened my tie as I made my way out of the office and headed down to the underground parking garage where my car and driver would be waiting. I’m supposed to be on my way to a social get together tonight but after that little snafu I wasn’t exactly in the mood anymore.

  The shit was beginning to bother me. It’s been quite some time since I let shit get to me, and there was no need for it in this situation. It’s not like I strong-armed her dad into selling me his company. If I hadn’t someone else would’ve. He’d chosen me because as he’d said, he knew I wouldn’t let it go down to the ground. Or tear it apart like some had wanted to.

  How the fuck did I get in the middle of this shit? This wasn’t the first business I’d bought out when it was in its dying throes, though it might be the biggest fish I’d caught. Usually, after I signed on the dotted line I never had much dealings with the previous owners. Then again, none of them had ever taken their life just days after signing the deal.

  2

  Emily

  “So it’s legit, you saw it? What are we going to do?” I fought back fear and nausea as I watched my mother fall back against her chaise lounge. Any minute now she’d be reaching for the smelling salts and whimpering about her headaches and all the other ailments that has been plaguing her since dad left us.

  I wanted to call her out on her selfishness but thought better of it. Dad had always spoiled her and catered to her every whim. She wouldn’t know the first thing about taking care of herself, so it was up to me now. The problem is, I can barely take care of myself.

  It’s funny, but people don’t seem to know, once you’ve been at the top and lose it, there’s no one there willing to lift you up when you hit bottom. Your friends find it beneath you to need a helping hand, and your enemies, those pariah who’ve been waiting for you to fail, are only too happy to rub it in as they step over your floundering carcass.

  I ran through our savings in my head. We had enough for this month’s bills, but next month was another story. How can this be happening? We’d fired the gardener, the cook and the housekeeper. Mom had her last salon appointment a few days ago and I was gearing up to tell her that it would be her last. There was food in the pantry, at least I’d made sure of that, but even there I’d had to skimp.

  I hid her credit cards until I could break the news to her that we were really and truly broke but couldn’t bring myself to cut them in half as I should. I’d already sold dad’s car and mom’s so we were down to just one between the two of us, but most of that money had gone to pay off some bills and the staff that had been with us since before I was born.

  Shit! Thinking of the way I’d had to let them go when the economy was in the tank was a hard pill to swallow, but there was no hope for it. We couldn’t afford to pay them any longer, and the way things stood we’d probably lose the house.

  A month ago none of this would’ve seemed remotely possible. I had the world at my feet, moved in the best circles in the highest echelons of society and didn’t have the first clue how much any of the many bills that flowed through here were. I never worried myself with such things, I didn’t have to. Was that part of the problem? Should I have been looking over my dad’s shoulder to make sure my future was secure? Who does that?

  Daddy had spoiled me as much if not more than he had mom. From the time I was a little girl I don’t remember him ever telling me no. Looking around the room that my parents once shared I took in the largesse and grandeur that I was sure my mother would die without.

  As my eyes fell on the walk in closet that was the size of most people’s bedrooms, I thought of the many suits hanging there that I would have to get rid of sooner or later. Mom was in no shape to handle that, just like she’d been in no shape to handle anything since the cops showed up at our door with the news that daddy had died.

  “Where are you going?” Mom lifted her head long enough to watch me make my way to the door before dropping it back down in despair. I was mad at her and didn’t know why. Maybe because I hadn’t had time to grieve my own dad because I’ve been too busy trying to keep us from ruin while she wallowed in despair. I couldn’t choose now to fault her for her flighty ways though, she’s always been bordering on the wrong side of negligent.

  “I’ll be back mother. Why don’t you take a nap?” I felt bad when I rolled my eyes and made my escape.

  Well, it was finally over. The last two weeks I’ve been kidding myself that there was a silver lining, that somehow Jason Storm had cheated my dad out of his company and I was going to get to the bottom of it and make things right. I think I always knew that that was wishful thinking on my part, but it’s what had kept me from giving in completely to the ennui that was constantly nipping at my heels. Seeing dad’s signature on those papers put paid to that and there was no more escaping reality.

  I heard a car coming up the driveway and realized that I wouldn’t have noticed something as insignificant as that in the p
ast. I was set to ignore whoever was out there but the persistent ringing of the bell changed my mind. For a minute there I was about to call down to the housekeeper to get the door but I remembered right quick that that was now my job.

  “I’m coming.” I was in no mood for visitors and opened the door with a ready excuse. “Simone…” My friend brushed past me and entered the house in her usual brash way. I wouldn’t say she was the last person I expected to see, but friends have been so scarce these days I was a bit surprised that she was here.

  “What’re you doing here?” I followed her into the foyer and up the stairs to my room with her leading the way like she lived here. Simone is my one and only brown friend; her words. She once gave me a lesson in why she and her people are not black but are different shades of brown and I never forgot it. Her dad is a gazillionaire who, even when my family was in the sauce, made us look like paupers. Well not exactly, but you know what I mean.

  “What do you think I’m doing here? It’s been like two weeks since anyone has seen or heard from you.” She threw herself down on my bed and swung her Prada enclosed feet back and forth. “So, what’s going on? did you see that Storm guy?” For some reason she’s the only one of my friends that I’d told about that. Everyone else had learned about my family’s demise from the news media, and even they didn’t know the half of it. They knew we were broke, which is why I think my friends were so scared to hang around me these days. Like they thought the shit was catching.

 

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