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His Dirty Promises (Dirty Billionaires 2)

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bsp; “You want to talk?” Che asks as he sips on his first.

“Not about what happened, no. I was thinking more about what we discussed, the seconds. For me, there’s no one else for me to consider other than Chloe Hutchins. I’m a hundred percent confident she has the goods; however, I am worried she won’t get the respect she’s due. She’s young, she’s a woman of color. While I think those are her strengths, some might not. I know you hate titles, but I’m thinking I want to give her the title of vice-president of residential sales.”

He considers his last sip, then swirls the glass. “I had no doubt Chloe was your pick. I shared your concerns. I’m not in love with titles, but I think you’re right. It will show the confidence and trust we have in her abilities. You want to wait to meet with her to give her the news?”

“No, I don’t see me going into the office any time soon. I need her in place now. I’m confident she’s prepared. If you could talk to her and put it into play, I would appreciate it.”

“I’ll handle it.”

I slide my empty glass across the bar. The bartender asks if I want another. I do, god do I want another, but it won’t solve anything. “No, a soda water with lime, please.”

I’m grateful Che doesn’t push me. We spend the next two hours discussing work until Che gets a text from Alicia.

“What does she say?”

“Just she’s ready to go. Patience, Dante.”

When we get home I look around, but there’s no sign of Bethany. Alicia gives me a hug. “She’s in bed. I’m sorry.”

At least Bethany isn’t trying to leave with them. I close the door then make my way down the hall to our room. The cats are in a pile at her feet, while Mac is on the floor on her side of the bed. It’s only a little after noon, but I give in to my need and crawl into bed and pull her into my arms.

“Go away, Dante,” she mumbles.

I don’t bother responding, just hold her closer. To my surprise I fall asleep after only a few minutes.

***

Bethany

I’m curled onto the couch, not paying any attention to what’s on television. I would rather be in bed but after we woke up a little over an hour ago Dante carried me into living room and set me down, ignoring my demands to take me back to bed. I ate the lasagna he set down in front of me a half hour ago because I knew arguing was a waste of breath.

“Let’s go, time to get dressed. You have twenty minutes.”

“Go where?”

“To see Jennifer, she’s willing to stay late to see you.”

Oh god, I don’t want to. I am so tired of crying. Why can’t people leave me alone? “No.”

“If you don’t change, I’ll pick you up and take you down there like you are now. It’s up to you.”

“I hate you! Leave me alone. Just leave me the fuck alone!”

“Okay, you want to wear the scrubs.” He shrugs as he lifts me up and slings me over his shoulder. I hate him so much.

“Stop, okay, okay. Let me change. Please, Dante.”

“No, I let you go and you’ll lock yourself inside.” I can’t believe he knew what I was going to do.

We’re in the elevator and I’m fighting not to scream at him. It’s not until he lowers me to the ground beside the Mercedes I realize I’m only in socks, no shoes. “I don’t have shoes on.”

He pushes me gently but firmly into the car then closes the door on me. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he shrugs. “That’s what you get for arguing with me. Put your seat belt on.”

Maybe Jennifer will prescribe me something to make me go numb.

Dante presses the button to get buzzed in from the street. He opens the door for me then pushes me farther into the reception area. Jennifer is waiting in the doorway of her office.

“Bethany, Dante, come in, the both of you.”



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