Loving The Enemy Page 4

  Two weeks later and I’m still missing a woman that I hardly knew. Since that first day I went digging into her life on the net, I’ve had to talk myself out of spending every free moment doing the same. Things had got so bad that I’d found all the old video footage of her that was out there. I spent many a night studying her, trying in vain to see what it was about her that held me enthralled.

  The girl on the screen was a far cry from the one who’d stormed into my office weeks ago. This girl was care free and full of life and light. It was eye opening to see her in that arena, the socialite heiress flitting from party to party, seemingly wild and uninhibited. Maybe it was because I’d seen her in a different light before being exposed to this side of her that I caught it.

  I wondered that no one else ever picked up on the difference between her and the other young people surrounding her. Though she was there physically, if you looked close enough you’d see that she wasn’t really a part of whatever was going on. Almost as if she were on the outside looking in. Not, that she wasn’t in the middle of it all; but there was something in the way she held herself, a certain look in her eye. Like she found the whole thing silly and was just going along for the ride.

  The girl in my office had strength and smarts, fire. This girl kept that all hidden it seemed. It was hard reconciling the two vastly different personas, and since I didn’t grow up rich and famous, I wasn’t sure if that was the in thing, to pretend to be something you weren’t. But I do know about peer pressure. Somehow I didn’t see the Emily Bronson who stood toe to toe with me and called me an asshole giving into the wishes of others.

  “What’s your story butterfly?” Where the hell did that come from? I wasn’t in the habit of giving my women cutesy names. ‘My woman’, what a thought. I hadn’t quite decided if I wanted to go there no matter how my body still reacted to thoughts of her. It was for that very reason, my growing need to be near her, that I was putting it off.

  I’ve never let emotion play any part in any relationship I’ve had so far. There was usually a basic attraction of course. But never once have I ‘felt’, not anything more than the need for release anyways. The fact that her face across a screen could get that much out of me gave me pause. I wasn’t in the market for anything heavy. Besides, she was dealing with her own shit right now I’m sure. The word is that she had been a daddy’s girl so I can imagine the excess baggage she’d be carrying now that he’s gone.

  I hadn’t seen or heard from her in the past few weeks so I’m guessing she was okay. The gossip mill hadn’t churned out anything about her or her mother and I’d kept my ear to the ground just in case. It seems maybe Bronson had taken care of them after all and I could give up that worry at least. I’d bought the company fair and square yes, but I wouldn’t have been comfortable knowing that I was taking food out of her mouth. That’s not the kind of man I am, and besides, I would never hold her accountable for the actions of her old man.

  “Fuck it!” I gave into the temptation and switched on the tube, going straight to that show I’d been watching repeats of on YouTube. I took a swig of beer as the commentator ran through the night’s headlines and almost choked. “Which ex-socialite has been selling her drawers to pay the bills since her dad died, leaving her penniless?” My heart froze when a smiling picture of her face flashed across the screen.

  I listened with half an ear as the asshole grinned through the latest bit of gossip meant to hurt and abase. I don’t think I blinked as he went through the story of how a source had told them where to look for evidence. He held up a pink box, which he opened to reveal a little slip of a dress. The piece of shit then showed another picture of her wearing that same dress at a party in Vegas. “Fuck me!”

  I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I call her? I’ve had her number for days, fighting the urge to just call her up and see how she was doing. The decision was made when the next announcement was made just before they broke for commercial. “When we come back, we’ll tell you the real story of how the late Timothy Bronson exited this world, and the illegal dealings that led this once great man to take his own life.

  I was out of the chair and headed for the door after grabbing my keys from the side table. Dammit, I should’ve gone to her before this happened. Already I was cleaning up the fallout in my head. Someone had talked and I’ll find out who, but for now I needed to get to her, to make sure she was okay. I could still see her face that last day, looking so lost and alone.

  Why hadn’t I done something then? It wasn’t the fact that she was selling her clothes to live that had me running to her, I admire the fuck out of her for that. But what they were about to reveal could very well destroy her. Was she watching? I hope not. But what was to stop someone else from telling her about it.

  I had the fleeting thought that I should call the station and have the show pulled for tonight, but that’s not how this shit works. For one, it was not my station, and for another, no way are they going to pull a show that I was sure was bringing in viewers by the millions. People love this shit; the misery of others. Like fucking vultures picking over a carcass.

  I drove like hell through the as not yet familiar streets. Her home was only about a five-minute drive away from mine, but since I was still new to the area and my driver was usually the one with this headache, I had to pick my way through the dark night.

  Luckily traffic was almost nonexistent so my ninety miles per hour posed no danger to anyone else but myself, and a tree.

  I didn’t stop to think why it was so important for me to get to her. Why I felt the need to protect her from this shit. And why the fuck was she selling her shit? Was it really that bad? What the fuck did Bronson do? And why hadn’t she come to me? Why would she Jason? She doesn’t know you, what the fuck, are you thinking?

  All kinds of danger signals went off in my head but I ignored them as I raced down the driveway to her. I had her face superimposed on my mind. It wasn’t the feisty sassy look either, but that last one, the one that keeps ripping a hole in my heart. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here. We’re not friends, not lovers, hell we’re not even acquaintances, probably closer to enemies since she seems to blame me for her dad’s fuck-ups.

  None of that seemed to matter now though, not as much as getting to her. Every light was on in the house as I slammed out of the car and hurried to the door. I rang the doorbell twice before I heard footsteps on the other side. I prepared myself for the sight of her, but all preparation flew out the window when she pulled the door open. Her face was ravaged, her eyes red. “Why are you crying?”

  “What are you doing here?” We spoke at the same time. I ignored her question and moved her back and out of the way so I could enter and close the door. I crowded her back against the wall, my body shielding her from some unseen force.

  “Who hurt you? Look at me, why are you crying?” I wiped escaping tears from the corners of her eyes with my thumbs and held her face between my hands.

  “Is it true?” Shit, in my haste I didn’t give thought to the fact that she might be watching that drivel. I’d rushed over but obviously commercials didn’t drag on the way they used to when I was a kid. How the fuck long did it take me to get here anyway? My thoughts were jumbled and that hurt, lost look in her eyes wasn’t helping. When her slight frame started shaking I did the only thing that made sense and pulled her in.

  “It’s okay baby, everything’s going to be okay.” I rubbed her back like a baby while she buried her face in my chest and cried. That lasted for all of ten seconds before she tensed up and tried pulling back. I let her get as far as an arm’s reach but didn’t let her go. Now that she was just staring up at me I hadn’t the slightest clue where to begin. Then I remembered her question. Fuck!

  “Is what true?” I knew I was only playing for time, then again I didn’t know what had been said while I was in the car on the way here so maybe it wasn’t that bad. Are you fucking bent? She’s devastated, of course it was that bad. Still, I’ve learned a lo
t by letting other people talk while I listen instead of just jumping the gun.

  I finally released her and followed her into the living room where she dropped into a chair like there was no life left in her. “Did daddy really do all those things?” Her eyes begged me to deny, to give her back what she had up to a half an hour ago. I could do that, but what good is that for her?

  “What exactly did they say?” I squatted in front of her so I could keep eye contact. After pulling herself together and wiping her nose on her sleeve for the one-hundredth time she finally got up the nerve to look at me. “That he ripped off a bunch of people and the SEC and IRS were coming after his assets. If that’s not bad enough now the whole world knows how he died as well.”

  “Okay, which of those situations are you most upset about?” From the look she threw me I’m guessing there was something off about my tone, if she only knew. This is my first time… for a lot of things. Usually I avoid shit like this like the plague and I’m still not sure what the fuck I’m doing here. She’ll just have to deal with me the way I am because I don’t know any other way to be. “I’m waiting Emily.”

  “Both. Why didn’t anyone tell me? What about all those people he stole from?” She got up from the couch and paced back and forth in her agitation. I didn’t say anything, as I was sure she wasn’t done yet. I just watched and waited for when she needed me. I took the opportunity to sit on the couch she’d just left so I could keep an eye on her.

  Not used to dealing with fractious females here. The members of the opposite sex usually try to be all sugar and cream when in my presence. Except for this one, and of course my mother, when she thinks the infant she’d given birth to had broken one of her golden rules. She held her tongue as her pacing grew increasingly erratic and then she stopped and turned back to me with renewed fire in her eyes. Thank fuck, I’d much rather deal with the spitting hellcat than the broken doll who’d answered the door.

  7

  Jason

  I watched the fire brew in her eyes as the tears faded away. “How am I supposed to get their money back? You knew didn’t you?” She walked over to stand before me, glaring down at me like this shit was my fault. “Yes, I knew, but I didn’t see any need for you to. What else did they say?” She slumped back against the couch as far away from me as possible it seemed, and I hid a secret smile as I realized something.

  Even with her red eyes and blotchy cheeks from crying, my body had not stopped responding to her since I came through the door. Of course I’m listening to her, but as I watched her, inhaled her scent that went right through me, I knew I wanted her, and what’s more, I mean to have her. There was no longer a question as to where this was going.

  Now was not the right time of course, her asshole old man was still giving me shit from the grave. But once I get her through this there’s nothing stopping me from taking her. I ignored the little voice that asked ‘for how long’. How the fuck should I know? I know that I want her; that she excites me in a way no one else has ever done. Let that be enough for now. I’ll deal with the fallout later.

  She dragged me back to the present when she answered the question. “What more did they need to say? Other than daddy was a liar and a thief who stole from his friends and neighbors and when he got caught he blew his brains out. We can’t stay here, my mother….” She jumped up from the couch and tried to leave but I grabbed her hand.

  “Sit down. Did your mother see it?” I tugged her arm until she was sitting beside me once more.

  “My mother hasn’t left her bed in a month. But I know once this gets out, and I’m sure one of her ‘friends’ is going to tell her sooner or later, it’s going to destroy her. We were both having a hard enough time dealing with the suicide, we thought… I thought that he’d taken his life because he was ashamed of losing the business. This makes everything worse.”

  I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists at the tears that slid down her cheeks. It wouldn’t do to tell her I didn’t give a fuck about her dad, he’s gone and for what he did I have no respect for him, but she’s his kid and she loves him. The truth is, I’m more interested in what else they’d had to say pertaining to her selling her underwear, which I’m sure was an exaggeration.

  “We can’t go back and change what’s already been done.” Even I knew that my dry ass tone sounded cold and reserved, but for a man like myself, theatrics and bullshitting just for the sake of it never gets anything done. I prefer to deal with shit head-on, no blinders. The world would fuck your shit up otherwise.

  “Right now I’m more interested in you and what’s been going on since the last time I saw you. Have you been selling your clothes online Emily?”

  “Oh lord.” She covered her face in shame.

  “Tell me.” She dropped her hands but refused to look at me as she told me about her friend’s idea. I listened without interruption until she wound down, my feelings for her becoming more confused by the minute.

  “I’m proud of you.” She gave me a bewildered but skeptical look until I smiled at her. She wouldn’t know this, not ever having been without before in her life. But for someone who didn’t come from such wealth, who wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth, I saw what she did as survival one-o-one. Better yet, it was something mom would’ve done.

  Most spoilt little rich girls would never think of parting with their shit, no; they’d look for someone else to take care of them and with her looks I’m sure she had any number of willing men who would be glad to take advantage.

  That last thought had me sitting up straight as a shot of jealous anger grew in my gut. I looked around for any evidence that anyone had been here but how the fuck would I know? I’ve never been here before. “Yeah well, you might be proud but the rest of the world is laughing.” She covered her face again.

  “Fuck ‘em.” She snorted and looked through her fingers at me.

  “Come on, where’s your mother?” I pulled her up beside me having no real idea of where we were going from here. I wanted to take her home with me, take care of her; make this all go away.

  “Oh shit, mom.” She looked towards the stairs with a crestfallen look on her face.

  Her shoulders slumped and I waited, ready to catch her if she crumbled. Instead she straightened herself up and a look of raw determination replaced the look of defeat that was just there a second ago. My admiration only grew more at that and I could all but feel her sucking me in.

  It was that strength that I had seen in her before that had me by the balls. That resolve that mirrors my own commands respect, something I’m not ashamed to say was never high on my agenda when looking for a bedmate. It was this that was going to trip my ass up. But even knowing that, I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I was way past the point of putting the brakes on. I knew that shit when I flew out of my house to come to her.

  EMILY

  What’s he doing here? I remember asking the question but receiving no answer. I must look a mess and I’m so nervous I keep babbling on and on. “I have to go to her before one of her ‘friends’ call her up.” I knew she hadn’t seen it since she only watches soap operas when she wasn’t putting herself to sleep with medication. I needed even more to get away from him before I made an even bigger fool of myself.

  He had a tight grip on my hand and I tried to convince myself that it meant nothing more than a show of support. Maybe for him, but for me it was doing something a hell of a lot different as can be attested by the butterflies doing sky jumps in my stomach.

  “You do that, I’ll be right here.” His voice compelled me to look up at him and I wish I hadn’t. I know that look in his eyes; I’ve seen it countless times before. Only this time it didn’t make me want to roll my eyes in disgust, but fall into his strong masculine chest and feel his arms come around me. Oh you’ve really gone off the deep end this time.

  He was probably just here because he was somehow involved in daddy’s mess. That made no sense but what the hell, nothing really has since this whole mes
s begun. I slipped my hand from his and walked away without looking back. I was suddenly very conscious of my scanty attire.

  I’d just taken a much-needed bath and fallen into bed to spend the rest of the night numbing my senses with drivel when the show came on. So I was wearing silk babydoll sleep shorts and a fitted tank. As I took the stairs one at a time I wondered if he could see my ass under the leg of my shorts as I got higher. My face burned and I fought not to look back at him.

  I could actually feel his eyes on me as I moved, so I hurried up the last few steps and turned down the hall towards my parents’ suite. I held onto the wall for a second to catch my breath and stop the wild racing of my heart. Why does he do this to me? Why is it that even with my world crumbling around me, just five minutes in his presence and I forget everything else but the feelings he sets loose inside of me?

  There was no point in dwelling on it now. With my new position in life, a man like him would have no use for me except one, in which I had no interest. He seems the type that would want a respectable woman on his arm when he settles down. Someone who would add to his influence in the business world. Not the daughter of an embarrassed businessman who’d took the coward’s way out and was now the laughing stock of the known world.

  I pushed my self pity aside and eased open the door to the dark room where my mother was asleep, buried under the covers as if even here, in slumber, she was trying to shield herself from the rest of the world. I felt a slight pang of pity and a well of love for the woman who’d loved me in her own way though I’d often thought of her as a flighty valley girl who’d been spoilt by everyone in her life.

  Knowing that she would never be able to handle this unless I came up with something soon, I put aside all anger and disdain as I moved closer. I wanted to promise her that I would make things right. The realization that I was now the one left to see to her care and wellbeing was just another burden. But as with everything else, I tamped down the rising fear and held onto my resolve to do whatever it takes.