Rebel Heir

  He stopped wiping and whipped the towel at me. “Now, now…have some respect. I think the correct term is concubine.”

  I snapped my fingers. “Ah, sorry. Didn’t mean to cheapen it.”

  He shrugged. “Honestly…she’s no one important…just someone I used to mess around with.”

  “Used to?”

  “When I meet someone, I’m very clear on the fact that I don’t want a relationship. I don’t make any promises. Sometimes women expect things to keep going when they were never meant to go on. Sometimes, no matter how clear you make your intentions, they still don’t listen.”

  “I assume that means you’re done with her?”

  “There’s no reason to continue.”

  “But she misses fucking you,” I mocked.

  “That’s her problem.”

  “Well, if you really are that upfront with women, then I respect that. I would have preferred it if Harlan—the guy I met here, if that’s even his name—told me that all he was interested in was having sex and running.”

  Rush lifted his brow. “Would you have fucked him if he’d admitted that?”

  “Probably not, but I would’ve appreciated the brutal honesty over what he did to me.”

  “He could sense that you aren’t the type of girl to go for a one-night stand. He knew the only way to get you to sleep with him was to deceive you into thinking it was the start of something more.”

  “How do you know that about me…that I’m not the one-night stand type?”

  “Well, for one, you told me you were hurt by what happened. If you were different, you wouldn’t have given a shit—wouldn’t have even thought to tell me about it when you’d only just met me. And even if you hadn’t said anything, I would still be able to read you. I can look a woman in the eyes and know if there’s a lot going on in her head or if things come up empty. Don’t ask me how I know…I just do.”

  “And you go for the empty ones…”

  “Empty is safe.”

  I pondered why Rush was so intent on distancing himself from relationships. “Do you worry about women only being interested in your money…trying to go after you if things go wrong? Is that why you’re the way you are?”

  “No. That’s not really something I worry about.”

  “You don’t worry about it because you never let things get to a certain point with anyone.”

  “Pretty much.” He grabbed my empty glass and lifted it in the air. “You want another?”

  “Do I have to say cock again?”

  “You just did.”

  I laughed. “No more French Kisses for me. Not fake ones anyway.” I winked. “Honestly, I have to write tonight while the ideas from today are fresh in my head. I’ll pass out if I have any more alcohol. My characters have a lot to say and do.”

  He chuckled. “Well, at least someone’s getting laid tonight.”

  Oak snuck up beside me during the evening rush. He was so big that his body cast a shadow whenever he was near.

  “You alright, boss?”

  Looking up at his massive frame, I said, “Yeah. Why?”

  “Well, you seem preoccupied lately. Anything you want to tell me?”

  “Not particularly. Why are you asking me that?”

  “You don’t know why?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He laughed to himself then said, “Pretty sure you have a thing for Gia.”

  Fuck.

  Was it that obvious?

  “Are you out of your mind? You know I don’t date employees.” I looked around to make sure no one was listening to our conversation. “What makes you say that anyway?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Ever since she started working here, you never leave The Heights? You also watch her like a hawk when you think no one’s looking. But I’m always watching you, so that’s how I know.”

  “Well, you can stop watching me. Your job is to watch The Heights, not me.”

  “My job is to observe everything. Part of my job is to protect you.”

  “Well, I don’t need protecting.”

  “She seems like a nice girl, very sweet to everyone. The customers love her. I think—”

  “Save it, Oak. Nothing is going to be happening there.”

  “It’s already happening from what I can see…”

  Looking up at him, I said, “You’re crossing the line. Are you forgetting I could fire your ass?”

  His deep laughter filled the ear. “Nah. You won’t. I know too much shit.”

  “That and you’re gigantic. I would be fucked. Anyway, you’re lucky I like you.”

  His laughter died down. “Come on, Rush. You can’t fool me. You got a thing for Gia. There’s nothing wrong with that, man.”

  “There’s plenty wrong with it. First off, she’s my employee. Nothing will be happening for that reason alone, but more than that…she’s dangerous.”

  Oak squinted. “Dangerous? That little thing? How do you figure that?”

  How was I going to explain this?

  “You ever just look at someone and know that if you let them, they could turn your life upside down…completely ruin you?”

  Nodding in understanding, he said, “Oh, yes. That’s happened to me before.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I gave in and married her.”

  Hearing him say that freaked me the fuck out.

  “Well, that’s not happening with Gia—or anyone.”

  “So, what…you’re just gonna continue to guard over her and never tell her how you feel?”

  “That’s right. My feelings are irrelevant. I can’t date an employee and if that weren’t an issue, it’s not like I can be with anyone who expects anything from me anyway.”

  “At some point, you’re gonna regret being so closed-off. The bad-boy thing ain’t gonna be so hot when you’re my age and all alone.”

  I let out a deep sigh. My eyes were on Gia when I said, “She writes romance novels, Oak. Fucking fairytales. That means, deep down, she wants the fairytale for herself. And I’m not the fairytale. I’m the horror story. I’m the fucked-up bastard child of an asshole, and it’s very likely that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I’ve never been interested in a relationship, and that’s not gonna change just because I’m temporarily fixated on her ass, and every other body part.”

  He just continued to stare at me as if he didn’t believe me.

  I continued, “I don’t know what I’m doing, alright? It’s like I want to…protect her or something. It’s weird.”

  He patted me on the back. “As long as you recognize that, boss.”

  My car was idling as I waited outside for her to exit The Heights. It was sort of an unspoken thing that I’d drive Gia home after her shift. I still hadn’t figured out how to tell her I’d fixed her car. Tonight she just started walking right past me even though I knew she damn well saw me.

  As I drove alongside her, she joked, “We really have to stop meeting like this.”

  “Get in.”

  Gia kept on strolling. “I’m thinking I’d like to walk tonight.”

  “Not safe.”

  She started to skip, her wild, black hair blowing in the night wind. “I think I’ll risk it.”

  I could tell by the look on her face that she was messing with me.

  “Get your ass in the car, Gia.”

  She laughed, then opened the car door and situated herself in the passenger seat.

  Lighting up a cigarette, I blew the smoke out of the window. “Stubborn little shit,” I grumbled, putting the car in drive and speeding away too fast. This was a prime example of taking my sexual tension out on my Mustang. It had been taking a beating lately.

  Sucking in another puff, I looked over at her. “Did you get any writing done last night?”

  “Yeah, more than usual, but not as much as I’d hoped. I wanted to finish the fourth chapter, and I didn’t quite get there.”

  “What happens if you can’t produce this book in t
ime?”

  “Then, I’m screwed. I’d have to give the ten-thousand-dollar advance back, which I’ve already spent, and I could end up being in breach of contract.”

  “How did you get yourself into this mess?”

  “Well, for a lot of people, landing a deal with a big five publishing house is a dream—hardly a mess. In my case, I won a contest based on submitting the first three chapters of the book, which remain the only completed chapters. Once I won, it was like my creativity shut off. It sucks.”

  “What did you do before you were an author?”

  She laughed. “You ready for this?”

  “Uh-oh.”

  Based on her warning, ideas were floating through my mind. Stripper? She certainly had the body for it.

  As if she read my mind, she said, “It’s not that bad or crazy.”

  “What was it?”

  “Well, you know when you pick up a greeting card? The cheesy little saying inside? That was me. I wrote them.”

  “No kidding?”

  “Yeah. I worked for a card company for a few years, writing sweet sentiments.”

  “I actually think that’s pretty cool.”

  “You know what was really sucky? Having to write Mother’s Day cards. That really blew.”

  Given that Gia’s mother had taken off when she was little, that hurt me to hear her say.

  “Well, I’m sure you rocked it, even though it was hard.”

  “Yeah. I tried.”

  “Why did you leave that job?”

  “Well, I got the book deal and decided to write full time. Clearly, I couldn’t afford to do that. I was struggling until this bossy, tatted man told me to look pretty and gave me a job.”

  “Glad to help.”

  When she kicked her toned legs up on my dash, I nearly swerved off the road. Gia grabbed onto my arm for a split second after practically falling over in her seat.

  “So,” she said. “What did you do before you became a rebellious heir to a vast fortune?”

  “I was a jack of all trades. I worked on cars…I waited tables. I was a tattoo artist for a while and—”

  “Really? Can you tattoo something on me? I was thinking of getting one on my lower back with this saying abou—”

  “No. That won’t be happening.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why no—”

  “Gia. Drop it.”

  When she could see I was serious, she shrugged. “Okay…suit yourself, grumpy.”

  The ride was quiet until she asked, “Go on, finish telling me about what you used to do. Tattoo artist…what else?”

  “It didn’t matter what I was doing. I always worked hard, still do…it’s just that making actual money is a lot easier now. But like I’ve said before, I don’t take any of it for granted.”

  “I know you don’t.” She paused. “How did you find out about your father initially?”

  I let out a long breath. What was this girl doing to me? She was getting me to open up, and I didn’t like it one bit.

  I finally caved and answered her question. “My mother had kept his identity a secret from me for years. Despite his money, she wanted nothing to do with him because of the way he treated her. But she got to a point where she felt I should know who my father was. And I think a part of her felt like I deserved a piece of the pie, even if it sickened her. I could’ve cared less about the money. In fact, some days, I wish it didn’t exist so I wouldn’t have to deal with them. The money…the businesses…they’re the only things that connect us.”

  “How did your parents meet?”

  “My father was living a double life. He was married when he started dating my mother, picked her up in the diner she was waitressing at. He’d come out to Long Island to see her but never brought her back to the City for fear of being seen. Once she found out the truth, that was the end of it. But by that time, it was too late. She was pregnant with me and eventually found out what a rich, lying prick she’d been involved with.”

  “You mentioned before that your grandfather was the one who actually saw to it that you got an inheritance?”

  “Yes. My grandfather controlled everything at the time. My mother actually went to him without my knowing and told him about me. I was in my teens at the time. She didn’t ask for anything, just wanted him to know about my existence. I guess he understood what a loser his own son was. After the DNA test, Grandad had his will redrawn so that I got an equal share of everything when I turned twenty-four. As you can imagine, Daddy Dearest and big brother were just thrilled about that.”

  “Your grandfather sounds like a good man.”

  I took a deep breath as memories of him flashed through my mind. “He was. He passed away a couple of years ago. As much as some days I wish I never knew about my history, I’ll always be grateful to him and for the brief time I got to know him. Before he died, he always made an effort to visit me to make sure I was doing okay.”

  When I pulled up to the house, we lingered for a bit until she turned to me.

  “Do you want to come in?”

  Yes.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know why.”

  “I thought you made it clear to me that nothing could ever happen between us.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So…what’s the harm in coming inside if we know where things stand? Besides, we’ll be far from alone.”

  That was true. She lived with a fuck ton of people in a share house. That made me feel better, and also gave me no real excuse not to take her up on her offer. Just a few minutes, I told myself.

  I exhaled before shutting off the car and getting out.

  It was a beautiful estate—if I did say so myself, right on the water and sprawling. Everything was new inside from top to bottom.

  Two girls and a guy were hanging out in the living room watching TV when we entered. Several pizza boxes, beer bottles, and rolled-up napkins were strewn about.

  Gia introduced me. “Rush, this is Caroline, Simone, and Allan…three of my roommates.” She looked over at me. “This is Rush.”

  Your landlord. I laughed inwardly.

  “Hi,” I said, sizing up the dude. I was pretty sure I’d seen him around town before canoodling with another dude.

  At least, he was one guy I didn’t have to worry about.

  I never understood how people could deal with the share house situation. I would never want to live with so many strangers up my ass all of the time. But I knew that for many, that arrangement was the only chance in hell they had of living in the Hamptons for the summer. I hated that I was starting to get a little jaded about that kind of thing, forgetting what it was like to be piss poor.

  Gia nudged her head for me to follow her. I had secretly hoped she planned to stay in the main living area.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To my room…”

  The warning bells in my head were officially sounding off. Heading to Gia’s bedroom was a bad fucking idea. Not to mention, walking right behind her gave me a view of her ass in the tight black pants she was wearing. My dick stiffened. The only reason I was agreeing to this was to prove a point, that I wasn’t afraid to be alone with her.

  “Welcome to my humble room.” She bounced on the bed. “I lucked out, ended up getting my own bedroom when most of the others have to share.”

  I looked around at the mostly lavender decor. “It’s nice.”

  She continued to bounce as she looked up at me. Her fucking tits were bouncing right along with her. “You look tense, Rush.”

  Fiddling with my watch, I said, “It’s late.”

  Gia tilted her head. “Have you given any thought to our bet?”

  “Bet?”

  “You know…I give up candy and you give up smoking.”

  That’s right.

  “Sure, yeah.”

  Her eyes widened as she leaned in. “And?”

  “Why are we bothering with this bet again?”

  “W
e’re trying to save your life and save me from diabetes.”

  “Oh. Gotcha. So, how does it work?” I asked.

  “You stop smoking cold turkey, and I stop eating candy. Then we have to come up with penalties if we aren’t able to stick to the program.”

  I had a light bulb moment. I’d been putting off telling her I’d fixed her car because I didn’t want her to question my intentions. This was the perfect opportunity to have her indirectly find out about it.

  “How about if I lose, I’ll fix your car.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Oh my God. That would be awesome! Is it sad that I might be hoping you slip and fall off the wagon?” She grinned.

  “What do I get for holding up my end of the deal?” I asked.

  “What’s something you want?”

  Your lips wrapped tight around my cock.

  “I know!” She said. “If I lose, I’ll name the main male character in my book Rush.”

  I bent my head back in laughter. It didn’t matter what she planned to give me because I planned on intentionally losing. “We have a deal, then.”

  “Cool. It starts effective immediately,” she said.

  Her eyes followed me as I started to wander around her room. Her closet was open. Running my fingers along the hanging outfits, I noticed a set of eyes looking back at me from atop the shelf. Then, another set of eyes. And another.

  Lined up in a row were a set of the ugliest dolls I had ever seen in my life. Their hair was all messed up, and some of them looked downright deformed.

  “What the fuck do you have going on in here?”

  She couldn’t stop laughing. “That’s my ugly doll collection.”

  “Ugly is an understatement. These are hideous! Like they give Chucky some serious competition. You collect these?”

  “Yup. Don’t ask me how I started…because the answer is more fucked-up than the dolls themselves.”

  “Okay, well, now you know I have to ask. How did you start collecting them?”

  She sighed, gearing up to tell me a story. “Before my mother took off on my dad and me…she left me with a parting gift. It was a little doll. It wasn’t an ugly doll or anything…it was generic—blonde hair, pink dress. Her name was Lulu. Anyway…when I got old enough to realize that she was never coming back…I burned it…like literally took it out to the backyard when my father was burning wood and threw it into the fire.”