Cruel Fortune E-Book

K. A. Linde

• Herausgeber: K.A. LINDE
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Cruel
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Seitenzahl: 429

Beschreibung

Dive back into the sexy side of the Upper East Side with the second billionaire romance from USA Today bestselling author K.A. Linde.
I finally have everything I ever wanted—fame and fortune and literary success.
Only one problem: I lost my muse.
He was tall, dark, and handsome. Broody, enigmatic, alluring, and right for me in every way.
Until he wasn’t. Until I lost everything.
And I can’t lose it all again. I’ll do anything to keep it.
Even seeing him again…

Leseprobe

Cruel Fortune

Cruel Book Two

K.A. Linde

Copyright © 2019 by K.A. Linde

All rights reserved.

Visit my website at

www.kalinde.com

Join my newsletter for free books and exclusive content!

www.kalinde.com/subscribe

Cover Designer: Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations.,

www.okaycreations.com

Photography: Lauren Perry,

www.perrywinklephotography.com

Editor: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing,

www.unforeseenediting.com

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

ISBN-13: 978-1948427258

Contents

Prologue

I. It All Started In A Board Room In Manhattan

1. Natalie

2. Natalie

3. Natalie

4. Natalie

5. Natalie

6. Natalie

II. Every Artist Needs A Muse

7. Penn

8. Penn

9. Natalie

10. Natalie

11. Natalie

12. Natalie

13. Natalie

14. Penn

III. Best-Laid Plans

15. Natalie

16. Natalie

17. Natalie

18. Penn

19. Natalie

20. Natalie

21. Natalie

22. Natalie

IV. Darkest Hour Is Just Before Dawn

23. Natalie

24. Natalie

25. Penn

26. Natalie

27. Natalie

28. Natalie

29. Natalie

30. Natalie

31. Penn

V. Surprise, Surprise

32. Natalie

33. Katherine

34. Natalie

35. Natalie

36. Natalie

37. Penn

38. Natalie

39. Natalie

Epilogue

Cruel Legacy

Acknowledgments

Also By K.A. Linde

About the Author

To ‘The Devil Wears Prada’

Sometimes you forget who you were

to become what you’re meant to be.

Prologue

Penn — One Year Earlier

I rushed out of the small Charleston airport and straight to the empty taxi line. I jerked open the door to the first cab, tossed my bag inside, and then followed in a hurry.

“Where to?” the cab driver leisurely asked. As if he had all day.

But I didn’t.

“Montgomery Gallery on King Street.”

“Oh, you know the Montgomerys?” he asked with a cheery smile as he slowly merged into the nonexistent traffic. “They’re good people.”

“We’re acquainted,” I told him.

Though I wanted to tell him to put his foot through the pedal. I’d just flown almost a thousand miles, I hadn’t slept in three days, and I was in an almost-manic state of urgency. I didn’t want to wait another half hour to get into the city and finally see Natalie.

It was bad enough that I’d let her walk out of my life after she found out about the bet. Three days had been long enough for her to go on thinking that I didn’t care for her. That she was only a bet. That I wasn’t going to man up and make this right.

She was probably face-first into a container of icing. And I hated—hated—being the one who had brought her that pain. I should have told her about the bet long ago. Long before she had to eavesdrop on the information and come to her own conclusions about the whole thing.

Because none of this had been a lie for me. I’d only entered the bet as a joke. I wanted to spend time with Natalie, and I wanted my friends to stay out of it. Then, when Katherine had gotten serious about the whole thing, it was too late. It never should have gotten this far.

Now, here I was, in her quaint, seaside Southern town, desperate to make amends. I couldn’t let Natalie slip through my fingers. And I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

I tapped my foot impatiently as we drove down King Street. It was beautiful in a completely different way than New York, but I could hardly appreciate it. Not now. Not like this.

“All right,” the cabbie finally said, pulling over. “That’s Montgomery Gallery right there.”

“Thank you.” I handed him money for the fare with a generous tip and all but vaulted out of the car.

I saw the Open sign in the large floor-to-ceiling window to the gallery and burst through the white door. The space had a generous display of artwork on large pillars and lining the room. Thankfully, it was empty of people. Only one woman stood at the back. She turned to greet me and then stopped.

“Penn?” Amy Montgomery, Natalie’s best friend, asked in surprise.

“Where is she?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to win her back.”

“Penn…no,” she said with a shake of her head. “You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t do this.”

“Where is she, Amy?”

Her body went rigid, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you even listening to what I’m saying? Natalie doesn’t want to see you. You should go home and live a life of abject misery, like you deserve.”

“You’re right. I should, but I can’t. She has to know how I feel.”

“Does she?” Amy asked. “Or do you just want to force your feelings on her? Have you even thought about what she’s going through right now?”

“Of course I have. That’s why I’m here. We need to talk. We need to clear the air. I can’t let her go on like this, thinking that she means nothing to me. When she means everything to me.”

Amy’s eyes were like fire. “You bet on her, Penn. I told her to have some fun with you and not let her heart get broken. And, now, she’s back here because you did exactly that. I warned her from day one that you were trouble. I know exactly the kind of guy that you are, Penn Kensington. I’m not going to stand back and let you fuck with her heart some more. Get the fuck out of my gallery and stay away from her.”

“Amy, that’s enough,” a soft voice said from a back door that I hadn’t even noticed. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Nat, no. Let me handle this,” Amy said.

“It’s okay.” Natalie patted Amy’s arm. “He came all this way. I can at least hear what he has to say.”

“Don’t believe a word of it,” Amy hissed low.

She stepped past Amy and finally moved into my line of vision. She was dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt. Her feet were bare, and her hair was tucked back into a slick ponytail. I’d never seen her dressed like this before. Normally, she was completely boho or dressed to the nines. This was…subdued. She wore no makeup, not that she needed it. But I could tell there were circles under her eyes, and they looked puffy, like she’d been crying recently.

“I’ll be in the back,” Amy said with a sigh and then disappeared through the back door.

Natalie crossed her arms. “What do you want, Penn?”

“I want you back, Natalie.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen.”

I took a step forward. “I know I made a mistake. I know I should have never made that bet. But I have never felt this way about anyone in my entire life.”

“But you did make that bet,” she said tightly.

“I know. And I can apologize until I’m blue in the face if that will make it right with you. I just can’t envision a world in which this ruins us. In which you walk away and don’t see that we’re perfect for each other.”

“All I see is someone who flew out here, thinking a grand gesture would fix everything,” she said crisply.

“You know that’s not true. I’m not just telling you what I want you to hear. If it were all a lie, why would I even be here, Natalie?”

“Because you get everything you want in your life, and I’m the only thing that walked away of my own volition.”

“I’m standing here because I want to make this work. I want us to work. You might delude yourself into thinking this was all a bet, but it was real. Every night we spent together in that house was real. How I feel for you is real. We have perfect chemistry. We work so well together.” I took another step forward and grasped her hand. “Natalie, I’ve fallen in love with you.”

She wrenched her hand back and glared at me. I could see the emotions warring through her. “How can you even say that to me?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“What is the truth?” she snapped at me. “The truth means nothing to you. All you ever do is lie and manipulate to get your way. You have no idea what is true, and you have no idea what love is.”

“You know that’s not true. You feel it, too.”

“Maybe I did,” she said, her voice cracking. “Maybe I fell in love with you. But what does that matter now after what you did to me? How can you ever make that right?”

“I’ll do anything to make it right, Natalie. Just give me the opportunity.”

Her face crumpled, and she sniffled. “God, I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“Of course I’m here. I couldn’t let you walk away, thinking that I didn’t feel the same way. We can make this work. We can.”

“How?” she asked, brushing away a stray tear. “Tell me how this works. In what reality does an Upper East Side playboy and the help work out? Because I don’t see it.”

“Because none of that matters. The only thing that matters is how you and I feel.”

“But it does matter.” Her brilliant blue eyes lifted to mine. “Love isn’t enough.”

“Natalie…”

“If it were just us—right here, right now—maybe it would be different,” she said. “Maybe it would be happily ever after. But it’s not like that. It’s not that at all. How we feel is not the only issue here.”

“I know it’s not, but we can conquer anything together. I know we can.”

She paced away from me, shaking her head. She was clearly conflicted, but I knew that I could get through to her. I could reach her. Have her see that we could work because I knew we could. I’d never been more certain about anything.

“The first time we met, you said that your deepest, darkest secret was that you hated your family and their expectations. You said you wanted to live a different life. Well, it’s six years later, Penn, and as much as you think you’ve gotten out, you’re still living that life. You still live on the Upper East Side. You still hang out with the same crew. You’re still making bets, seducing women, and ruining lives. There is nothing different about your life.”

“You’re different.”

She laughed hollowly. “But, if we were together, I’d have to live that life, too.”

I paused, hearing what she was saying. I was a full package. I didn’t just come with me and my puppy, Totle. It was so much more. And she was finally seeing how horrible it was. Something I’d known for so long.

“So, if it were just me and you,” she whispered, “then…maybe. But it’s not. And it never will be. You will always have to deal with your mother and friends and the Upper East Side. You’ll always be in the public eye. You’ll always have to deal with secrets and drama and skeletons in the closet and all of this stuff that I can’t even comprehend.”

“We don’t have to deal with any of that,” I tried to assure her.

“You’re right. We don’t. But you do.”

“Natalie, please, listen to me. I don’t need any of that. I only need you.”

“I wish I could believe you,” she said, taking a step backward. “But I don’t. You can’t escape the Upper East Side, Penn. You tried and failed. So, how the hell would I be able to get away?”

I froze in place and stared at this beautiful woman who I had completely fallen for. And I realized…she was right.

I hated my life. I hated the obligations and drama and expectations. I wanted out. I’d wanted out for a very long time. But I hadn’t gotten away.

“We both know the answer,” she said softly.

“But I love you,” I said one more time in desperation.

She nodded as a tear trickled down her cheek. “That’s not enough. Not after what we went through and what you did. There’s no future in which I come back to New York with you. Your mother hates me. Your friends hate me. I don’t belong in that world…and you do.”

I opened my mouth to contradict her, but I couldn’t seem to do it. I wanted her in my world. I wanted her there desperately. But, if I hated my life and didn’t want to live in it, then how could I blame her?

“So, please, just go.” She brushed more tears from her cheeks. “Don’t call or write or try to see me again. I can’t handle being near you.”

Gallantly, I swept her hand into my own and placed a tender kiss on it. Just as I had done the very first time we met. “I wish it were different.”

She choked back tears. “Just…go.”

I didn’t want to go. I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and shut the rest of the world out. To make her see that this was all that mattered.

But never once in my entire life had love mattered. Not with my drill-sergeant mother or alcoholic father or train-wreck brother. Not with any women in my life or even the crew. We were bound by loyalty and secrets, not love. Not really. Why had I thought Natalie would be any different?

Part I

It All Started In A Board Room In Manhattan

Natalie

1

Natalie,

I spoke with Gillian last week and confirmed the remaining details for your New York trip. We’re both so excited to see you and celebrate the release of Bet on It. It’s been a year in the making. Hard to believe that it’s finally here.

I’ve attached the itinerary that Gillian sent over and penciled in our lunch to discuss your next book. I am interested to hear all your brilliant ideas.

If you need anything or have questions, I’m always a phone call away. Congratulations, Natalie! I’m so proud of you!

Regards,

Caroline Liebermann

Whitten, Jones, & Liebermann Literary

Fwd:

Caroline,

Here is the finalized itinerary for Natalie. I hope to see you at the party as well.

Best,

Gillian Kent

Senior Editor

Warren Publishing

Itinerary

Sunday

1:20 p.m. Flight—ticket attached

Monday

10:30 a.m. Warren tour

11:00 a.m. Warren meeting

7:30 p.m. Warren dinner @ Twig

Tuesday

12:00 p.m. Lunch w/Caroline @ Norma’s (You’ll love it!)

6:00 p.m. Bet on It release party @ Club 360

Wednesday

12:00–4:00 p.m. Signing @ The Strand on Broadway

8:00 p.m. Hamilton

Thursday

7:30 a.m. Flight—ticket attached

I stared down at my phone, then back up at the Warren Publishing building on Fifth Avenue, then back at my phone, and then back up to the building.

“Would you chill out, Nat?” Amy muttered next to me. “This is clearly the right place.”

Of course it was. With its distinct, flourishing W that looked like two crossed Vs with a loop off of the last one. I’d dreamed about this moment my whole life, and now that it was here, I didn’t feel excited or relieved or giddy. I felt sick mostly. Really sick. Like, at any moment, the stress and anxiety of knowing that I was going to release a book tomorrow might overwhelm me.

“I know it is. I just can’t believe this is happening,” I finally said.

“Your dreams are all coming true. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Except for the fact that all I’ve done since I finished the edits on Bet on It is write a few paragraphs and delete them. Rinse and repeat. Now, my agent, my editor, and the entire publishing team at Warren are going to want to know what I’m writing next. And I haven’t written anything.”

Amy rolled her big brown eyes. “Just be a diva about it and tell them that genius only strikes when it’s ready. You aren’t beholden to them. God knows I’ve worked with enough artists to know that. Your publisher should, too.”

Amy was probably right. But it didn’t lessen my nerves an ounce.

Not the least of all because I was back in this city.

My eyes scanned the skyscrapers, dirty sidewalks, crush of taxis, and jittery, frazzled pedestrians rushing to and fro. A year ago, I’d thought that this would be my home. That, despite getting fired from my job as a vacation home watcher for the mayor of New York City, I’d still land on my feet here in this beautiful, crazy city.

But, now, when I looked around at all the hustle and bustle, all the glamour of the city that never sleeps, all I saw was him.

Penn Kensington.

My heart lurched uncomfortably in my chest. I didn’t like to think about him. Or what he’d done to me. Or how he’d used me. Again.

But being here…it was hard not to see him on every street corner.

Those all-knowing blue eyes. The dark hair that he’d constantly mussed as he furiously wrote philosophical musings into his leather-bound notebook. The shape of his muscular body. The habit of slipping his hands into his pockets and staring straight into my soul. His smile, his laugh, the way he’d insisted on teaching me how to sail, how to think, how to learn. Not to mention, his tiny Italian greyhound puppy, Totle. Every little thing about him that had made me fall head over heels, madly in love with him.

And how it had all shattered into pieces a year ago.

“You’re thinking about him again,” Amy said quietly. She touched my shoulder as if she were trying to reel in a kicked dog.

“I’ll be fine.” I cleared my blurred vision and shook away the stray scraps of him from my imagination. “Anyway, I guess I should probably head inside.”

Amy gave me one last concerned look before nodding. “Damn straight. You’re going to rock this.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to take the tour with me?”

“And give up shopping on Fifth Avenue? Are you crazy?”

I chuckled. “You are an enigma.”

“I’ll look for something nice for you. Maybe some Louboutins of your own.” She winked.

“Don’t you dare!”

Amy cackled. “That’ll be the day.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me.”

“I do.”

“Remember that you’re a star, this book is going to blow up, and they should be wooing you. Not the other way around.” Amy smacked my ass. “Now, get on in there and be the rock star you already are.”

“I’ll meet you for lunch,” I called out to her as she sashayed down Fifth Avenue toward Bergdorf Goodman.

Amy waved her hand in response.

With a deep breath, I yanked on the large gold handle, heaved open the glass door, and entered Warren Publishing. My heels clicked on the white marble floor as I stared, awestruck at the massive entrance. It looked more like a ballroom in a European palace than the foyer of a publishing house. Marble columns lined the room with decorative molding festooned around the perimeter. An enormous domed ceiling was on display high above, painted with a life-sized mural of cherubs enjoying a summer’s day. The entire effect was stunning, if not a bit overwhelming.

“Natalie!”

I startled out of my trance and found my editor, Gillian, striding confidently toward me. She was in her mid-thirties with short, dark hair that swept across her forehead, square black glasses, and bright red lipstick. She was tall and wiry in a straight black pantsuit.

She vigorously shook my hand. “It’s so good to finally meet you! I recognized you right away with that silver hair. I love it. I keep telling my wife to dye her hair that color.”

I reflexively fingered my silvery-white signature locks. I’d dyed it that color in college, and it had stuck. I’d thought about chopping it all off last fall when I got home, but I couldn’t do it.

“Thanks, Gillian. I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

“I feel like we’ve known each other for years,” Gillian said. She gestured for me to follow her out of the main entrance, and we walked toward an array of elevators. “I’m glad we were able to get this to work out.”

“Me too.”

“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” she asked as we stepped into an empty elevator. She pressed a button, and the doors slid closed.

“Nervous,” I admitted.

“Me, too. Always am on release days. Even ones I know are going to go crazy, like yours. The preorder numbers are through the roof, and the early reviews are spectacular. But still…nerves!”

I laughed at Gillian’s effusive manner. We’d had a few calls leading up to this point, and she had always seemed over the top then, too, but she was practically larger than life in person.

“Okay. We don’t have a ton of time for a tour. But I want you to see my favorite things and then meet the team. Sound good?”

I nodded. And as Gillian took me around the various divisions of Warren Publishing, I wondered why I had ever been nervous about it. She was lively and eager to introduce me to everyone. In person, we were as close as we had been on the phone. Everyone seemed excited to meet me. It actually felt like coming home. Like I could just open up my laptop and get to work.

“And this is the Bookshelf,” she said as we stepped up to a small bookshelf lined with forward-facing books. “This is where all the new releases are held.”

And there at the center was Bet on It with its intense blue cover and cleverly placed white letters with a little tagline that read, Based on a true story. At the bottom was the pen name I’d chosen: Olivia Davies.

I’d wanted to use Natalie Bishop. I’d always envisioned my own name on the book, but this book, this one right here, it wasn’t possible. Not when Penn or his mother or any of his friends could pick it up and see it had pieces of what had happened woven into the pages.

So, I’d used my middle name and my mother’s maiden name. It didn’t feel like me quite yet. Even as Gillian introduced me as Olivia to the rest of the team. She knew me as Natalie because we’d worked together for a year, but it wasn’t widely known, and I wanted to keep it that way.

It was why I wasn’t going out on a book tour for this book, to my publisher’s chagrin. I’d agreed to one book party and one signing—no pictures allowed—while I was in the city. Lord help us all that they didn’t ruin everything.

“Would you mind signing it?” Gillian asked, holding out a Sharpie.

I took it reverently and then signed my name on the inside. I’d practiced signing as Olivia, so I wouldn’t mess it up, and seeing it there like that made me glad that I had.

“Magic,” I whispered.

“It’s perfect! Now, let’s head up to our meeting, and then you’ll be free until dinner.”

I placed the book back on the Bookshelf and then followed Gillian upstairs to the meeting room. I braced myself for questions about what I was working on and the lies I was surely going to tell. I had other books that I’d tried to work on. Plus, I had my road-trip book that I had started writing last year. I’d put it aside to work on Bet on It and was glad I’d done so. Now, I didn’t know how to tell them that I had nothing else. That my muse had vanished as swiftly as I’d finished this story.

I hoped that I wouldn’t have to admit that today.

“The lady of the hour,” Gillian called excitedly as she entered the room, “Olivia Davies.”

I laughed and stepped into the conference room. My heart was in my throat at the splatter of applause from everyone at Warren. They all stood up from their seats and came over to say hello to me. I was just moving up to the head of the room with Gillian to take my seat when a side door opened, and a figure ducked his head into the conference room.

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was hell.”

My eyes lifted to meet his as I realized that I recognized that voice. I took in the black suit that molded to his body, the award-winning smile, smooth brown skin, and dark chocolate-brown eyes that I’d been certain I wouldn’t see here. Because he didn’t work for Warren Publishing. He worked with hedge funds. Not the publishing company that was his namesake.

“Lewis?” I gasped.

When he took in my shock, he smirked. “Hey, gorgeous.”

Natalie

2

My stomach dropped out of my body. It was the same sensation as getting to the top of a roller coaster and free-falling into oblivion. Sudden and total paralyzing fear ripped through me.

Because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

No one from last year was supposed to know that I was in New York. I’d been certain that I could get in and out of the city in a matter of days without seeing any of the crew or dealing with any of my emotional baggage. For one of the people who was the cause of all of it to stride right into my meeting, I couldn’t even begin to process it.

And Lewis was definitely one of the causes. Penn’s best friend and one of his crew who had been in on the little bet I was the subject of last year.

Admittedly, Lewis was a Warren. There had always been a chance he’d be here. But I’d thought it was so small as to be infinitesimal. I’d always gotten the impression from him that publishing was almost a hobby for his family of billionaires. A fun pet project but nothing with which to be concerned. They had much more important things to concern themselves with. Lewis had once likened his real family business to putting hotels on Boardwalk.

Except…now, he was here.

In my meeting.

And it couldn’t fucking be a coincidence.

“Olivia, you know…Lewis Warren?” Gillian asked with a mix of shock and apprehension in her normally cheerful voice.

“Olivia,” he drawled. He arched an eyebrow at my pen name.

“No,” I answered at once.

“No?” he asked from those too-perfect lips and that too-handsome face.

“We’re acquainted,” I corrected. “Briefly.”

“Now, that is a story I’d love to hear,” Gillian said.

“It’s not really that interesting.”

“Oh, don’t be shy, Olivia,” Lewis said. “Tell everyone how we met.”

I stared daggers at him and wondered what sort of world I lived in to have to endure this torture in front of everyone who mattered for my career. I couldn’t just tell him to go fuck himself here. Not like I wanted. Not without questions getting hurled at me.

But what could I say that wouldn’t give away that he was part of my book?

“He…went on a date with my friend Amy.” Not exactly a lie.

“Ah, yes, Amy,” Lewis said with a laugh. “Does she still prefer broke artists?”

“She does.”

“And will she still love you after your book releases tomorrow and blows up all the charts?” His eyes twinkled as I squirmed.

“I’ll have to ask her,” I said with a fake smile on my face.

Gillian laughed at our exchange. “What are the chances that you would know Lewis Warren? Well, I cannot wait to hear the full story later. Why don’t we all take our seats and get started with this meeting?”

“Yes. Let’s.” My eyes narrowed in his direction.

“Great idea.”

Lewis promptly took the chair directly across from my seat and winked at me. My cheeks heated as my anger lit like a fuse. Forget nerves for this meeting and enter cold, hard fury that this moment was being ruined by an Upper East Side prick who had been involved in the bet on whether or not I’d fall in love with his best friend. It wasn’t enough that the only book I’d gotten published was about this event. He had to be here to witness them discuss it.

I tried to block him out and focus on the meeting at hand. But I couldn’t seem to get it together. I wanted to know how he had known. Because he had to have known. And, if he had known …did that mean the others did too? Did Penn know?

I recoiled from that thought. He couldn’t know. I didn’t want to think about him or deal with him or see him.

“Olivia?” Gillian asked, clearly repeating herself.

I’d been so zoned out, thinking about the past, that I didn’t even hear her question. Or much of anything that had come before that. Had we been discussing the marketing strategies? Or preorder numbers? Had someone mentioned the New York Times?

“Sorry. What was that?”

“We wanted to discuss your next project,” Gillian said. “It’s not often we have the whole team together with the author.”

“Oh, right. What I’m working on next.”

I chewed on my bottom lip and glanced back to Lewis. His eyebrows were raised as he waited for my response. He actually looked…interested. Was that legitimate or fake enthusiasm about my book? Was he mocking me? Surely, he hadn’t read my novel.

“We’re all dying to know what’s next,” my publicist, Kathy, said.

“It’s still in the beginning stages.” I flicked my eyes back to Gillian. “I’m not sure it’s ready for anyone to see. Might disrupt the flow.”

“Oh, come on. Not even a morsel?” she encouraged.

I fidgeted in my seat. How the hell did I get out of this?

“We can’t rush brilliance,” Lewis interjected. “If she’s not ready to share, then it’s clearly not ready for the public eye. I’m sure, once the book is in working condition, she’ll wow us all.”

I shot a relieved look in his direction for saving me from continuing. He likely didn’t know that it was because I had no idea what to write next and no muse. But he had kept me from having to say that, and for that, I was grateful.

“You’re right, of course, Lewis,” Gillian said.

“We’re just enthusiastic,” Kathy piped up. “If it’s anything like Bet on It, then I know we’re going to have a best seller on our hands.”

I paled and managed to push a smile through. “Let’s hope.”

“All right, well, that’s all we have for today,” Gillian said. “Do you have any questions for us, Olivia? We know tomorrow is a magical day for a debut. We want to make everything as seamless as possible.”

“I don’t think so. I’m just excited to go into a store and be able to actually hold a copy of my book,” I told them.

“You’ll have to take a picture and send it to us. We’ll put it up on our social,” Kathy said hungrily.

“Sure,” I told her. Though I had no intention of showing my face for the camera, I’d send them something to use.

“Okay. Well then, we’re through here. See you tonight at Twig for dinner,” Gillian said.

I stood and shook hands with the rest of the team. I’d been working with them off and on all year, so it was nice to have faces to go with the names. They probably felt the same way about me, if I had to guess.

But, by the end of the meeting, it was just me, Gillian, and…Lewis.

“I can show her out,” Lewis said with a broad smile to Gillian.

“Oh. Of course. I need to get back to work anyway,” Gillian said. She raised her eyebrows once at me as if to say, Have a good time, and then disappeared through the conference room door.

Once we were finally alone, I whirled on him. “What are you doing here?”

“Last I checked, I’m a Warren,” he said with a grin.

“You don’t work in the publishing arm,” I accused.

“No, I don’t.”

“So, what are you doing here?”

“I thought that was obvious, Olivia.”

“Don’t,” I snapped.

“I came to see you.”

“Well, I don’t want to see you.”

He shrugged as if that fact didn’t matter to him. “Yet here we are.”

“How did you even know I was going to be here? My identity was tightly guarded. Only Gillian knows.”

“Are you sure?” he teased.

“Clearly, I was wrong.”

“Go to lunch with me, Natalie.”

I scoffed in disbelief. “No.”

“Come on. It’ll be like old times.”

I shouldered my purse and headed for the door. “Might have escaped your notice, but I have no interest in old times.” I turned back to look at him with anger in my blue eyes. “And no interest in seeing you.”

I yanked open the conference room door and headed for the elevator. My hands were shaking, and I clasped them together to make them stop. My heart was hammering in my chest. It was a reminder of what I was running away from. That stupid smirk and confident air. The way he seemed to own the room. I’d always found Lewis handsome. He and Penn were two sides of the same coin. They both took up too much space, and worse, they knew it. I would not be caught in that web again.

Fool me once, shame on you. I’d been eighteen and in Paris and fallen instantly for Penn. I’d given him my virginity, and he’d repaid it by ghosting on me. Granted…it was because his father had died. Though I’d only learned it years later.

Fool me twice, shame on me. The bet. Penn, Lewis, Katherine, Rowe, and Lark had bet on me. And I’d fallen in love with Penn and made an utter fool of myself anyway.

Fool me thrice—well, I didn’t even know who I could blame for that. So, I was getting as far away from the Upper East Side and all the many charming men in it.

“Wait!” Lewis slid his hand in the elevator before it could close, and then he walked smoothly inside.

I pressed my body against the opposite wall. “Leave me alone, Lewis.”

“Go to lunch with me.”

“Go to hell,” I quipped.

“I guess I deserve that.”

I glared. “Deserve? That’s the least of what you deserve.”

“That’s probably fair.”

I crossed my arms and remained silent. I didn’t have to talk to him. I didn’t have to listen to him. Their antics had ruined my life as I knew it. And sure, I had bounced back onto my feet. But it didn’t excuse what they’d done or how callous they had been about it all.

The elevator chimed, and I pushed past Lewis onto the main floor of Warren Publishing. Its grandeur was still mesmerizing, but all I saw was him now. I should have taken another offer. Who cared that Warren had fought the hardest and won the auction? I could have taken the deal from Hartfield or Strider or any number of other publishers that had bid on my book.

I could feel Lewis’s presence behind me as I exited the building and said good-bye to Warren Publishing.

“Stop following me,” I hissed.

“I will. Just hear me out.”

“I’m under no obligation to do that,” I snapped.

“You always did have a hot temper.”

I stopped suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk. He continued moving for a pace before he realized that I’d halted.

“Natalie…”

“You and your friends ruined my life. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you. I have no interest in whatever lies you’re going to spin,” I told him with fire in my eyes. “If you thought this would go differently and that I’d fall all over myself at your feet, you are sadly mistaken. I’m not like the simpering idiots you have on the Upper East Side. I don’t care how much money you have. I don’t care what your last name is. So, leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry,” Lewis said. His eyes were wide and revealing. A window to his sincerity, and I hated it.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.”

I yanked out my phone to check my messages. I was supposed to meet Amy for lunch, but then I saw I had a text from her.

Ran into Enzo while I was shopping. You remember him from Paris, right? His work has gone off the charts. He even has something in the MET. We’re going to get lunch. Don’t wait up. ;)

I sighed heavily at the text message. Great. There went my escape plan.

“You’re right,” Lewis said. “Sorry doesn’t cut it. But I still would like to apologize. I know I was acting arrogant and condescending in there, but I didn’t know how you’d react to me being there, and it was a defense mechanism.”

“Why would you need a defense mechanism? You’re the one who did this to me.”

“I know. It was stupid and childish and wrong on so many levels. I begged Penn to tell you. I threatened him beyond words to do it, or I would. And I should have. I see now that I should have done it. Should have stopped it all.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure, Lewis. Why don’t you save your breath for someone who might believe this?”

He straightened. “You think I enjoy throwing myself at your mercy? Knowing that you can hold a grudge for six years that runs as hot as a California forest fire? I don’t enjoy your enmity, Natalie. I deserve it. We all do. But it does nothing to diminish how much I wish I could change it.”

I stared at him in surprise. He was…serious.

He was actually…groveling before me outside of a building he owned. A year later, and he still wanted to make things right. A small part of me got satisfaction in his suffering. It was nothing compared to what I’d gone through. But the Upper East Side never had repercussions to their actions, and his pain was at least one consequence.

“What do you want from me?” I asked cautiously.

“Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I thought, if I bought you lunch, it would be a good start.”

“Start for what?”

“Apologizing for what you went through.”

I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust any of them. But one lunch might not kill me.

“Fine. But we’re getting pizza. It’s the only thing I miss from this godforsaken city.”

He smiled at me as if he knew how much of that was a lie.

Natalie

3

Lewis insisted on paying. So, I found the cheapest pizza place and strolled inside. He looked dismayed.

“Are you sure you want to eat here?” he asked.

“What do you have against pizza?”

“Nothing. But I know a better place.”

“I’m sure you do, but we’re not going to the Upper East Side. We’re not going anywhere near where your friends could see you. And I’m not letting you buy me a ridiculously priced pizza when this place is right here.”

He sighed heavily. “Fine. But don’t act like you don’t like expensive pizza. That place in East Hampton wasn’t cheap.”

I winced at the memory. All the times Penn and I had ordered in pizza from that little place in East Hampton. How we’d eaten it cold for breakfast, clustered around the refrigerator in his parents’ Hamptons mansion, and taken notes on our respective writing projects. I still couldn’t distinguish if that was the best pizza I’d ever had because of where it was from or who I ate it with.

“Whatever,” I muttered.

Lewis ordered us a pepperoni and sausage pizza and handed me the Styrofoam fountain drink. I giggled at his discomfort and poured myself a Coke. I sat at one of the rickety chairs. Then, my eyes slid to Lewis at the soda machine.

We both looked incredibly out of place. He was in a thousand-dollar business suit, and I was dressed to impress in an outfit Amy had insisted on. A pair of Amy’s Louboutins and a sleek dress and jacket combo that I never would have purchased for myself. Sleek wasn’t typically how I described myself. More like bohemian with oversize, flowy dresses and sandals. My silvery hair long and unmanageable or in a high, messy bun on top of my head. Not stick straight to my waist like Amy had insisted on this morning. Or the makeup she’d carefully applied to my face like I was a doll.

Lewis sank into a chair across from me without complaint. Though I knew he would have preferred somewhere fancier. Lewis, unlike Penn, was a hundred percent Upper East Side. He had none of Penn’s qualms about living this life. He’d been born and raised into more money than God. I knew he enjoyed it.

“So,” he began.

“Yep.” I took a long sip of my drink.

“I’m amazed you gave in.”

“I didn’t give in. I’m merely humoring you until Amy finishes screwing her latest artist.”

He chuckled. “She found someone already?”

“You’d be amazed at how easy it is for Amy to find someone to fuck.” I shrugged. “Or maybe you wouldn’t.”

“I’m hardly Amy’s type.”

“No, I do remember you being shocked because she was the only woman who had ever rebuffed you for your money.” I waved my hand around. “Oh, look, happened again.”

He pointed his finger at me. “You’re a different case. The money makes you uncomfortable. It doesn’t make Amy uncomfortable. She just doesn’t want to date someone like her parents.”

I was surprised at how well he’d read us both in that moment. Amy had been raised in money, and she defied it all by dating artistic losers. I’d been raised poor, and no matter how much I spent time around wealthy people, it wasn’t me. Not to mention that I had no interest in living that Upper East Side life. Not then, when Penn had begged me to come back…and not now.

“Maybe,” I conceded. “And here I thought, you didn’t even like to talk about money. Isn’t that right? People with money don’t think about it. It just…is.”

“Well, aren’t you one of us now?”

I tightened my grip on my cup. “I am not one of you.”

“I mean that this book is paying you handsomely.”

“You and I both know that doesn’t make me like you. You have to be born into your part of society. And you generally need billions…or the right name.”

“That’s right,” he acknowledged. “A name sometimes can mean more than the money.”

I shrugged and leaned backward. That wasn’t my world. Character should mean more than name or money. But not for them. Not for someone like Katherine Van Pelt. Katherine, who had precipitated my downfall, all to try to get to Penn. All because her name meant something, yet she was penniless. She’d entered into an arranged marriage with Camden Percy, the most despicable person I’d ever met, and thought Penn was her way out. It was all so backward. If I didn’t hate her so much, I’d almost feel bad for her. Almost.

The pizza arrived then—thin crust, covered in toppings, and steaming. I took the time to eat and collect my thoughts. So far, this lunch hadn’t been that horrible. It could have been worse at least.

“So, Bet on It, huh?” Lewis asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yep.”

“Are you ready for it to come out tomorrow?”

“Honestly?” I asked. “I’m really nervous.”

“You? But why? It’s gold.”

“Oh, don’t flatter me.”

I took another bite of pizza, so I didn’t have to look into those big brown eyes. I’d long wondered if Lewis had had something to do with the fact that I’d gotten the deal with Warren Publishing. Even though Hartfield had offered first and the entire thing had gone to auction with thirteen publishers, Warren had still won. It made me wonder. But I knew that I couldn’t ask him. I didn’t want to know. Not right before release day. I’d always wanted to believe I’d won this on my own merit despite years of rejection saying otherwise. I wasn’t sure my fragile heart could handle it if it was the other way around.

“I’m not flattering you, Natalie. I’ve read the book. It’s outstanding. Your prose is so sharp, so biting. The story…well, we both know how much of it is based on a true story. But it’s the way you weave it together and bring fact with fiction that really shines. It’s the in-between moments that make you pause and really think. I was captivated from page one until the very end. And not just because I’m a character in this story.”

My jaw fell open at his words. He’d actually read the book. I couldn’t believe it. I had known that Lewis enjoyed reading, but I hadn’t thought he’d pick mine up for anything more than morbid curiosity.

“Well, thank you.” A blush graced my cheeks. “I didn’t think you’d read it. I’m a little amazed anyone has read it.”

“You’ve had glowing reviews in all the major journals. Of course people are going to read it. And I’m glad they are. Clearly, you knew it was a story worth telling.”

“I started it when I was in the Hamptons,” I confessed. Though I had no idea why.

He ran his thumb across his bottom lip and leaned back. “That makes sense.”

“You’re not going to tell anyone else, are you?”

“You mean, Penn?”

I winced at the abrupt use of his name and all the pain that accompanied it. Yes, of course, I meant Penn. But truly, everyone. This was the real reason I’d chosen a pen name. I needed to fly under their radar.

He must have seen it in my expression because he sighed. “What would you like to be a secret? That you wrote the book? Or that it’s about the crew? Or that you’re here and I saw you and we had lunch?”

I nodded. “All of it.”

“Your secret is safe with me. I will not divulge that you are the great Olivia Davies.” He furrowed his brow. “Not even to Penn.”

“Thank you.”

“But…”

“Oh god,” I muttered.

He grinned devilishly at me. “I would like to see you again.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The more time I spent with Lewis, the greater chance that someone else in his circle was going to find out. Even if he kept his promise that he wouldn’t tell anyone. Which seemed doubtful to me.

“I think it’s a marvelous idea. You’re only here a couple of days. I’m sure your schedule is packed. I could fit into it rather seamlessly.”

“You don’t seem to be giving me much choice.”

“There’s always a choice. I want you to make the right one.”

“Rather ominous,” I chided.

He laughed and reached across the table, snagging my hand in his. “Why can’t I want to spend time with you?”

“You can.” I slipped my fingers out from his. “Maybe I don’t want to spend time with you.”

“No lies between us anymore. You’re enjoying yourself. We’ve always had fun together. Why don’t we continue? I could take you to dinner tonight.”

I shook my head. “I’m going with the publisher.”

He arched an eyebrow, as if to say, I am the publisher. “No one would object to me tagging along.”

“I would.”

“What about your release day party tomorrow? I could escort you. Amy could even come with. Bring her strapping new artist along.”

“Why are you pushing this?” I asked suspiciously. “I said no.”

“You haven’t actually.”

“I just did then.”

He sighed and nodded. “All right. But I want you to know that I missed you this last year. You weren’t the only one who was upset by what happened. You’re a breath of fresh air, and losing your presence was a blow. You can’t fault me for wanting to have you back in my life.”

Despite myself, I was moved by what he’d said. I hadn’t thought anyone in their circle had feelings. Or that they would miss me. I had believed that it was all a game. One they had played many times before and would continue to play for all eternity. I was a pawn, and they had moved the pieces how they saw fit. No matter who got hurt.

But Lewis hadn’t made it seem like that. He’d made it seem like real lives were involved and real feelings were injured. Not just my own.

I blinked down at my cup and tried to banish these unwanted feelings. I didn’t want to feel bad for Lewis Warren. How could you feel bad for someone who had everything?

Because…he hadn’t actually placed the bet. Yes, he’d been there that day. But it had been between Katherine and Penn. And the wager had been in their favor. Lewis hadn’t been an unwilling participant, but he hadn’t really had a stake in the matter in the same way. And we had become friends.

No.

We hadn’t been friends. Christ. A few minutes in his presence, and already, he was twisting my thoughts. Bringing down barriers I’d put up for my own security. Lewis was an Upper East Side prick. He’d known about the bet. He’d done nothing. He deserved nothing from me.

“Is that all?” I finally asked.

He sighed and nodded.

“Good. Then, I need to get back.”

I stood, and he followed suit. He cleared the table for us and then we walked out into the November chill.

“I don’t want to blindside you again. I will be at your party whether I escort you or not,” Lewis let me know.

“Okay.”

I could probably avoid him at the party. There were going to be enough people. Hopefully.

We stood on the sidewalk, watching the madness of New York City zip by before us. Then, he turned and held out his hand. I stared down at it in surprise. A handshake. Huh.

I removed my hand from my coat pocket and shook.

“It’s been a pleasure, Natalie. I’m glad that you’ve found success.”

“Thank you.”

“If you change your mind about…anything, you have my number.”

It seemed doubtful, but I nodded anyway. “Thank you for lunch.”

He smiled brightly. “Anytime. Now, I suppose, I should get back to work as well.”

“Good idea.”

He hailed a cab, which pulled up right away in front of us. He opened the back door and then held it for me. “You first.”

“Oh, thank you.”

I slid into the backseat of the cab, and he closed the door behind me. A sad smile graced his features, as if this whole encounter hadn’t gone as planned. And for a second, it was like I could see how much he had planned all of this. He’d been excited to see me. He’d been expecting anger but thought that he could break through it. He’d been wrong.

The car pulled away from the sidewalk, and I leaned back in confusion. Lewis wasn’t what I’d been expecting either.