“Okay. How’s school?”
She rolled her eyes at me. “You’re only four years older. You act like my freakin’ father or something.”
Someone has to. “All right, simmer down now. Simmer down.”
She rolled her eyes again but smiled. “Want to watch It’s a Wonderful Life?”
Hell to the no. “Absolutely not.”
“A Christmas Carol?”
It’s like she has a window into my conscience. “No, let’s try something funny.”
“Elf,” she recommended.
“Elf it is.”
That night I opened my laptop and set it on the bed beside me. I toggled between wanting to log on to my Swiss account and wanting to throw the whole damn machine across the room. I settled on logging on. I couldn’t help myself.
Seven million two hundred ninety-three thousand eight hundred fifty-nine dollars and seventeen cents.
A burn of satisfaction radiated across my chest and I couldn’t help the smirk that appeared after, but that burn turned into a different kind of heat, an uncomfortable heat in my stomach when I thought of the imaginary image I had of Peter Knight’s wife.
I imagined Peter’s face when she opened the envelope of pictures. I imagined how he would fluster and struggle to explain images he had no recollection of. I imagined her slapping the innocent man, imagined her packing up a bag and the kids and leaving him.
I slammed my computer shut and ran to the bathroom, vomiting once more. But it did no good. I still felt like the piece of shit I was, and there was nothing I could do about it. My only choice now was to sit there and pray that he would choose the merger route, to save his family.
My only consolation was that he seemed like the kind of man who would pick his family over his career.
Besides, he’ll get rich off this merger...Nevermind that he didn’t want the merger in the first place because he thinks your father is a dishonest prick.
And yet, despite the fact that I knew it was wrong, I was going to keep the money because the idea of letting it go was more painful to me than the sin I’d committed against Peter Knight. I was deathly afraid to admit it out loud but I was exactly like my father. And it felt like I could do nothing about it.
The greed was more powerful than the will to do right.
I’ve got to get out of here.
Chapter Four
I took my dad’s private jet without asking. I did this often whenever I would do his bidding. He never questioned it. The pilot would return to L.A., and I’d call him back when I needed him.
A limo sat at the bottom of the airstairs. I immediately climbed in just as my cell began to ring. I stared down at the name displayed across its face. My mother. I hesitated for a moment, trying to decide whether I should answer it.
Get it over with.
“Hello?” I asked.
“Spence, honey, where in the world have you gone?”
“I’m in Vegas, Mom, what’s up?”
There was a long pause.
She sighed. “I know your daddy can be a little much sometimes, but that’s just his way. He loves you, darlin’.”
I stifled a bitter laugh. “Yeah, okay. Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I need a day or two to catch my breath. I’ll be home soon. You won’t even know I was gone,” I charmed.
She sighed yet again. A guilt tactic that usually worked, but my desperation to be away from my father trumped it. “Bridge is very disappointed,” she plied.
I sighed. “Shit. The dinner. Tell her I’ll be home Friday morning. I promise.”
“Fine,” she conceded. Her voice was weak, reminding me of all the times she spoke to my dad the same way.
“I love you,” I added, narrowing my eyes. “I’ve got to go. There’s something troubling in the car with me.”
“Okay, honey, love you too and be careful?”
“I will,” I lied and hung up the phone, laying it in the seat next to me.
I ran my hands over my hair and smoothed my pants before resting my palms on my thighs. I cut and lit the Gurkha HMR cigar, courtesy of the hotel, in the tray next to my seat. I took a long, silent drag, letting the smoke out slowly and filling the car with an intoxicating scent. At fifteen thousand dollars a box, it better taste and smell like f**king heaven.
I settled a little deeper in the leather. “Who are you?” I asked the silent girl on the bench across from me.
She cleared her throat but spoke smoothly. “I’m Piper.”
“Is that your real name?” I asked her, rolling the window down an inch to watch the lights and let a little of the smoke out.
I turned back to her. She was beautiful, without a doubt. Shiny burgundy hair curled to meet her waist, her eyes were brown and bright and her skin was flawless.
“Yes,” she told me, and I believed her.
“Piper, why are you in my car?”
“I was sent.”
“By whom?” I asked, staring straight at her.
“I’m not at liberty,” she explained.
“Ah,” I said, letting it lie. “What are you here for?” I asked, knowing full well what she was there for.
“I’m here to do whatever you want for however long you want.”
“That’s vague,” I replied.
“Consider me your own private attendant.”
“That clears it up, thank you,” I teased with a smile.
She smiled back and it wasn’t all too unpleasant a look. I decided she could stay, but I wasn’t sure what all I was going to do with her. I’d decided to play the night by ear.