Cruel Beloved

“I do,” he says.

Emma takes an intake of breath, making him smirk even more.

“How do you know what I eat for breakfast anyway?” I ask him. He looks behind me to where Emma’s seated on the bed.

Turning to a red-faced Emma, she speaks before I can say anything. “He asked, I had to tell him.”

“Well, no, no you didn’t.”

“Emma’s here with you to go wedding dress shopping. The store has my card info already on hand. Buy a dress for each of you.” He reaches into his suit jacket and passes me a card—it’s black.

“I don’t need this. I earn good money.” He shakes his head.

“Whatever you buy for this wedding, I don’t want you to be paying for it.”

“No.” I push the card back at him.

He pushes it straight back to me while taking a step closer, his breathing harder, and I have to remember I don’t like this man. “Take the damn card, Carla.” He places it in my hand, then walks out of the room.

“That’s hot,” Emma says.

“What’s hot?” I ask, not looking her way.

The card in my hand burns. Is he buying me? This feels all kinds of wrong. Placing the card on his side of the bed, I start getting changed.

“You like him, don’t you?” she asks.

Lifting my eyes from the skirt I’m sliding on, my eyes narrow on her.

“Don’t look at me like that. You like him, but you’re fighting it. This is going to be an interesting year. Maybe I should start taking bets on how long you’ll last.”

“Last?” I ask, not really wanting to know what she’s going to say.

“How long until you fall hard for him. Or at the very least, sleep with him. Whichever comes first.”

“I did just sleep with him,” I say, smiling.

“Haha, smartass. You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“I met his ex. I think he could have loved her,” I say in a whisper.

“What?” Emma stands off the bed.

“We look nothing alike. Why is he doing this, if I’m not his type?” I look to the door to make sure he isn’t lurking there, because he has a habit of doing that.

“Clearly you are his type, or he wouldn’t be making you sleep in his bed,” she replies.

“She loves him, and somehow, I feel bad for her,” I say with a shake of my head.

Emma’s hand flies to her hip. “Please, you didn’t send yourself a damn blackmail contract. He wanted you. Which, by the way, you need to start finding out why. Don’t be naïve in this. He is using you. And if you want to, use him too. You can, Carla. Fuck his brains out and make him love you.”

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause sex makes you fall in love.”

“I think you can make him love you.” I shake my head at her words. “Think about it. He’s doing this to you. You should do that to him. Make the man love you.”

Her words are not something I’ve thought about.

Maybe I should make him love me.

Payback can be a bitch.

“He’d know, wouldn’t he?”

She shakes her head. “He doesn’t have to know a thing. Just be yourself. Pull away, only to be pulled in. Hook, line, and sinker.” She winks

“He said I’d have to beg if I wanted him,” I tell her, and it makes her eyebrows raise.

“Well, my love. Start begging.”

17

Whiskey

Carla doesn’t move when she sleeps, she sleeps like the dead and she snores. How could something so beautiful make a noise that loud. I go before she wakes. What’s the point of staying?

Her father is waiting at my office when I arrive. Gerald’s been showing up a lot lately when he hasn’t been invited, which is surprising since Carla had to book to see him last time.

He wants something.

What, I don’t know, yet.

He smiles when he sees me, and I lift my sunglasses from my head when I see him, offering him my hand. Shaking it, it feels as fake as he is.

“I don’t want to involve my daughter in business, and since you’re about to be my son-in-law, I thought why not speak directly to you.” Gerald puts a hand on my shoulder and taps it. “You can make time for your future father-in-law, can’t you?” he says, and I only offer him a nod as we take the elevator to my office.

“Should I tell Carla of your visit?” I ask as the elevator door closes slowly.

“No need to. I came to visit you, not her.”

Of course he has. The snake.

The elevator comes to a stop and we both get out. My personal assistant looks at me, then back to her work. I learned early on not to play with people I work with, it cost me thousands of dollars when I first started out trying to fix a mistake.

Pulling out my phone, I send her a message.