Going Down Hard (Billionaire Bad Boys 3)

She opened the door to find Spencer standing on the front porch, wearing a camel coat and a too eager look in his eyes. His dark hair had a dusting of snow, which didn’t bode well for her day.

“Hi, sis.” He pushed past her and walked inside.

“Whatever happened to calling first?” she muttered, loud enough for him to hear. “I can’t talk. I’m on my way out,” she said, in case her jacket wasn’t enough of a clue.

He shrugged off his own coat and tossed it over a chair near the entry. “That’s fine. I wanted to look around and see where I’ll be living. What I need to buy and change around.”

“It doesn’t bother you at all that I was here first? And I have to find a place to go thanks to you?” she asked.

Although she was always aware she was living on her parents’ property, she’d decorated the guesthouse just the way she wanted it. She loved so much about the place, from the small study she’d made that overlooked the garden in the summer and the snow banks in the winter to the homey kitchen she’d created for herself to cook in.

“It’s my turn, Cass,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. “Fair is fair.”

Her blood pressure rose at his presumptuousness. “Well, you can come back when I’m home. I don’t need you going through my things while I’m out.”

“Fine.” He picked up his coat. “I’ll come by again. Any idea when you’ll be moving out?”

She gritted her teeth. “When I find a place to rent and can arrange for movers. Relax and wait your turn.” She had to unlock her jaw in order to speak. “Have you gone over any plans for the company? Subscription base is down and—”

“I’ll deal with it. It’s my job to worry about the company. You can focus on your tech magazine.”

She felt his words like a pat on the head, and her anger grew. Apparently her brother was yet another man in her life who had no problem discarding her when she was no longer needed or useful.

Just like Jeremy, who she really hated thinking about. The bastard started working at Storms Consolidated the same year she had, after graduation. He’d been attentive, if on the pushy side, but he’d wined and dined her, and she’d fallen for him. They’d had the same journalistic interest and goals, or so she’d thought. She’d been willing to work her way up the ladder.

His interest in her had waned when sh

e refused to talk to her father about advancing his position within the company. He’d flat out asked her what good she was to him if she wouldn’t use her connections to get him a promotion. After all, he’d added, it was for her benefit too. For their future. Yeah. Right.

“Did you get more obnoxious while you were away?” she asked her sibling, heading for the door in order to make her point. They were finished.

“Don’t be mad at me. Dad was never going to pick his daughter to run the company. This was a natural, expected change. You should accept it and move on.”

If he didn’t hold the ultimate say over her job, she might haul off and smack him. Instead she hustled him toward the door and slammed it shut behind him, shaking in the wake of his short visit.

He’d always been a jerk, and his time abroad hadn’t made him more of an adult or a decent human being. Nor had her father’s handing him the company without him having to earn the position helped. Her father enabled his behavior, and clearly that would never change.

Nostalgia for her grandfather swelled inside her. God, she missed him. But thinking of him reminded her of the reasons she was sticking around and not finding a regular job with another company. He’d delivered newspapers when he was young and created his own multimedia company as an adult. A self-made man who she admired not just for his business ethics but for the way he treated his family, as well.

Sadly her father had not learned anything from him. But Cassie had. She blew out a long breath and tried to release the stress her brother had brought with him before she headed to the city to find a new place to live.

A little while later, she exited a taxi at the address Derek had given her. The high-rise was located in the upper sixties, a nice neighborhood and not too far from where Storms Consolidated did business. She knew the rent would be high, but her grandfather had set up a trust fund for her that bypassed her father. And though she tried not to rely on anything but her own income, she didn’t feel bad dipping into the money to accommodate her forced move.

A security guard sat at the entrance. She gave him her name, and he sent her up to the twenty-first floor, to apartment 2103.

She found the door partially open, knocked once, and entered. “Hello?”

An unfamiliar, well-dressed man with blond hair walked toward her from inside. “Ms. Storms?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Brad Hansen, the property manager.” He extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, shaking his hand.

“Mr. West got hung up with a family emergency. He said he’d meet up with us soon.”

“Oh,” she said, swallowing over the lump of disappointment, though she did hope everything was okay.