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The Accidental Elopement Page 6
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He saw his friend mouth, “Ask for a raise” before he turned to follow the quiet, intimidating tycoon into the back hallways that led to the general manager’s office.
Shutting the door behind them, Daniel sat behind the desk and gestured to Ryan to take the empty seat across from him. “How long have you been working here, Ryan?”
“A few months.”
“Do you like your job?” Daniel asked.
Ryan nodded. He could only half pay attention since the rest of his brain was replaying the little interaction he’d witnessed between Daniel and Lucia. Who was she to him? How did they know one another and, if they were so close, why did he seem shocked to find her there?
“Look,” Daniel said, leaning over to rest his elbows on the desk. “I’ll be honest with you….“
Daniel Gladwell was going to be honest for once? This should be good. I screwed over your father and ruined your family.
Bitter laughter threatened to erupt at the thought of Daniel actually coming clean. What would his brother do if this man owned up to his actions and—heaven forbid—actually apologized for his part in their father’s downfall?
“Lucia is important to me. I appreciate what you did for her tonight,” Daniel said, his voice surprisingly soft.
What had he done? Lied for her?
“We’re, uh…we’re not really married, sir.”
Daniel actually laughed then and the sound was unnervingly….human. Not at all in keeping with the soulless android image he’d projected from a distance.
“Yeah, Lucia told me. Probably for the best, you wouldn’t survive a day at the villa.”
Before he could question Daniel’s sanity or ask what the hell “the villa” was, Daniel continued. “As you may have gathered, Lucia is no stranger to me. She’s….” Daniel seemed at a loss for words which was almost as alarming as his laughter. “She’s family,” he finally said.
Family? Lucia Jones was a member of Daniel’s family?
Ryan found himself gaping at Daniel. “She never said. I mean… she only said she needed a job.”
Daniel shook his head in seeming disbelief. “She said that, huh?”
“Isn’t it true?” Ryan shifted in his seat, uncomfortable at the idea that Lucia had been lying to him all along. He thought back to the sad look on her face when she’d come in for the job.
Daniel ignored his question. “I’ll deal with Lucia, don’t worry about her. I just wanted to say thank you. I know you thought you were helping her back there.”
Ryan looked up and found Daniel fixing him with a serious stare. “You were there for my family when it mattered. I won’t forget that,” Daniel said.
What the hell was he supposed to say to that?
“Yeah, well,” Ryan said, standing from the chair and wiping his sweaty palms on his work pants. “No problem.”
He left the office half expecting the soundtrack from The Godfather to be playing in the hallway. Had he seriously been summoned to Daniel Gladwell’s office for a pat on the back?
Ryan froze halfway between the office and the bar. Had he really just sat there and said, “No problem?” He groaned aloud at the memory. What was he going to tell Billy? This had been his chance—his one opportunity to talk to the devil himself.
One of the reasons Ryan had been selected to be the mole was because of his ability to get along with just about anybody. Their dad used to call him the snake charmer as a kid because he was so good at sweet-talking his way out of any situation.
Billy had convinced him that this would be no different. All he had to do was wait for the perfect moment. He’d never doubted that once he got his foot in the door it would be smooth sailing. He hadn’t over-thought what he would say or how he would say it; he’d merely trusted himself to be able to manipulate whatever situation he was in.
He leaned against the hallway wall and let his head drop back with a thud. That had been his chance. His big opportunity to work his magic and sweet-talk his way into Gladwell’s inner circle. And he’d blown it. He hadn’t been able to get his mind off of Lucia and the lies she’d told. A bitter taste filled his mouth at the realization that he’d been duped; she’d played him for a fool, lying to him from day one.
More than that, he couldn’t stop thinking about the insinuations Daniel had made and his comments about her. It couldn’t be true. There was no way the clumsy hottie at his bar could be related to the devil who’d ruined his family. Her sweetness, the humble way she’d thrown herself into serving…why would she do that if she came from money? No, there was no way his angel could be related to the devil.
Chapter 5
Lucia threw her purse down with a thud. How dare he? Marco had ruined everything. Who did he think he was hiring someone to look out for her? What was it the investigator had said? “To bring you home when you came to your senses.”
This was exactly why she’d left him in the first place. He treated her like a child rather than her own woman. They were the same age but he always seemed to think he knew what was best for her. He treated her dreams like they were silly fairytales and outright laughed at her plans. To think, she’d dated him for more than a decade without seeing him for who he really was. She’d been so content being his perfect girlfriend. Self-loathing made her stomach churn. How humiliating that she’d spent so many years without seeing the truth. And even now, after all these months away, he was still treating her like a child.
Lucia fell onto the bed face first with a muffled groan. At least she’d eventually come to her senses. Better late than never. And it was all thanks to Daniel. Well, Daniel and Ivy. When they showed up at the villa as her grandfather’s guests—for the first time in her life she’d witnessed real love. It had been eye-opening to compare what she had with Marco to their fiery, all-consuming chemistry. But she’d ignored the twinge of doubts, telling herself that what she and her then-fiancé had was more realistic, more…comfortable.
And maybe she could have kept telling herself that but then, after yet another fight with Marco about her dreams to pursue fashion rather than follow in her grandfather’s footsteps, she’d escaped for a fun little weekend getaway to Paris. With Jack and Holly.
Watching the two of them fall in love had been the last straw. More than that, she saw the way they complemented each other and believed in one another. That was when she knew that she couldn’t hide from the truth any longer—what she and Marco had wasn’t built to last. She had been settling.
She may not be a romantic like her grandfather, but she did believe in love and when she married, she would settle for nothing less than the real deal. But that wasn’t happening anytime soon. She had other dreams that came first. Her career was her first and only priority. One would think her tycoon of a grandfather would understand that, but no. All he cared about was marrying off his children and grandchildren and playing matchmaker for everyone around him. Just look at poor Daniel and Jack. They hadn’t stood a chance once her grandpa got involved.
Lucia rolled over and stared at the ceiling. She missed Gretchen now more than ever—her constant chatter would have been the perfect distraction. Even better, she wished Holly or Ivy were here, at least then she would have someone to talk to about everything that had happened—the private detective who’d followed her, the way Ryan had tried to save her, and Daniel’s comical look of shock when he’d shown up at the exact wrong time.
Her laughter sounded loud in the empty apartment and she found herself clapping a hand over her mouth to smother the sound. It wasn’t funny, Daniel could ruin everything.
But he wouldn’t. She knew her friend well enough to know that he wouldn’t force her to go home. He wouldn’t fire her if she explained how important it was that she be able to stand on her own two feet.
But Ryan might.
That thought brought an abrupt end to the laughter. Her anger and humiliation was instantly replaced by a crushing guilt. She was haunted by the look on Ryan’s face when Daniel had
arrived. She’d seen the surprise and confusion when she and Daniel had started talking in Italian and then, when she’d walked away, she could have sworn he’d looked hurt. And she couldn’t blame him—she’d caused nothing but trouble for him with her lies.
How could she face Ryan?
He was kind enough to give her a job and show her the ropes and how did she repay him? By lying. Everything he knew about her was a lie. Her heart ached at the memory of Ryan standing up for her, protecting her. The guy had been willing to pretend to be her husband, for heaven’s sake, and she hadn’t even been honest about her name.
Or the fact that she was an heiress.
Lucia closed her eyes and groaned. What would he think when he found out the truth? This man who’d given up everything so he could make enough money to save his family. She could vividly remember the disdain in his voice when he’d talked about how glad he was that he hadn’t been raised with money. What was it he’d said? Better to grow up learning how to manage in the real world than be a spoiled rich kid with nothing but dreams. Those words still stung even though he hadn’t been talking about her at the time. But he might as well have been. That was almost exactly how Marco had described her. He’d called her entitled, spoiled, told her she was living in a fantasy. Maybe he’d been right all along. She really was a spoiled rich kid with nothing but dreams.
There’s no way Ryan would let her keep her job. And why should he? There were plenty of people out there who really needed that job. She could practically hear his voice saying those words. And a part of her agreed with him. He would never understand why she’d done what she did.
Her eyes shot open. But then again….maybe he would.
Lucia popped up in bed, her heart pumping as though she’d run up a flight of stairs. Maybe he would understand—well, maybe not the spoiled heiress part—but he knew all about familial obligations and needing money. That was one thing they had in common. And maybe she could use that to her advantage.
Puzzle pieces were falling into place in Lucia’s brain. How had she not thought of it before?
The only thing standing in the way of her and her trust fund was six long years…or marriage. And who said the marriage had to be real? Or for love? People married for reasons other than love all the time. Why not her? After all it was an archaic loophole keeping her from the money that would one day be hers. Why not exploit it?
She was breathless with excitement. Or was it fear? But there was no danger, not as long as she found a husband who understood the rules and was in it for the same reason. For money. As long as she and her partner in crime agreed ahead of time to annul the marriage, she could have her career and one day, when she met the man of her dreams, she could still have her dream marriage. It was so simple.
All that was standing in the way of her and her dreams was the lack of a husband. And all that was standing in the way of Ryan and his goal of saving his family was a lack of money. They could help each other and get everything they dreamed of.
Excitement had adrenaline coursing through her system and Lucia hopped out of bed. Just thinking of the possibilities her trust fund would give her was exhilarating. Once she’d called off the wedding with Marco she’d been certain her only option was to make money on her own or wait until she turned thirty but now….she could have it all.
If Ryan agreed. He was the obvious choice—she trusted him. Plus, he needed money too. It was a win-win.
Her excitement took a momentary leave of absence and was replaced by cold trepidation. What if he said no? After all, why would he help her, the woman who’d been lying to him? The woman who was the living definition of the rich brats he despised. If he said no, who else could she ask? It wasn’t like she had a ton of friends in this city and the odds of finding someone she trusted to keep up their end of the bargain were slim. But Ryan…she could trust him. After his bold claim about being her husband tonight, he was practically her knight in shining armor. He would never take advantage of her. And she couldn’t think of any other man she would trust with this. The only problem was, did he still trust her?
Flopping back down onto the bed, Lucia tried to form reasonable thoughts despite the fact that her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking, whether from excitement, nerves, or fear was yet to be determined.
She couldn’t go through with this. What would her grandfather say? What would Marco say? Oh, who cared what Marco would say. His opinion no longer mattered. More importantly, what would Ryan say? She groaned aloud as a fleeting image of Ryan’s disgust at the mere proposition flitted through her brain. He would think she was crazy. He’d think she was a money-hungry, spoiled brat with no work ethic.
And maybe he’d be right.
No. She had to forcibly remind herself of the many long hours and days and weeks and months she’d poured into her dream of being a designer. She had a fantastic work ethic…just not for her grandfather’s work. She wanted to stand on her own two feet—she just needed a little help from her mother’s trust fund. That wasn’t a crime.
They could both benefit from this agreement. She just had to make him see that.
* * * *
Ryan gave a little salute to Javier, the last employee to head out for the night. As usual, Ryan was alone behind the bar, counting the till so he could close up for the night. The shiny bottles of whiskey lined up perfectly seemed to call to him out of the corner of his eye. A few shots were exactly what he needed to put this whole disastrous night behind him.
The bar had been busy, which was the perfect distraction. But even so, he’d managed to find time throughout the night to obsess over every word he’d overheard and every lie Lucia had told him.
No, not lies. It was what she hadn’t told him that stung.
Could she really be related to Daniel? He’d said she was family, why would he lie about that? That thought was a slap in the face. Daniel must have known she was here. But if she was related to the owner, it made no sense that she was so desperate for money. Or why she’d lied about her name.
Ryan swallowed down his anger. He would probably never know her reasons; what mattered was she’d lied. He shook his head as he wiped down the bar one last time. His own hypocrisy was laughable. It wasn’t like he’d told Lucia the real story of why he was working there. But still. He’d known Lucia was hiding something, that much had been obvious. And he wouldn’t have cared all that much if her secret was….well, anything else. But the fact that she was related to the man who had single-handedly destroyed his family? That was hard to swallow.
Ryan looked down at the wad of cash in his hands and cursed. Dammit, he’d lost track again and would have to start from the top. He froze at the sound of the bar door opening. Dammit, Javier forgot to lock up on his way out. Experience told him it was either a hotel guest who was already two sheets to the wind and looking for one last nightcap or his brother, come to check in on his progress.
God, what was he going to tell his brother?
When the visitor didn’t speak, Ryan glanced over his shoulder and froze.
Lucia stood in the doorway, her wide eyes glistening in the dark. She looked terrified. “Lucia? What are you doing here?”
His voice seemed to wake her from her spell and she moved toward him quickly, her lips pressed together, and her gaze unblinking. She looked like a woman on a mission. Ryan leaned over the bar with a sigh. Lucia had probably come to apologize, or explain, maybe. This should be good.
Lucia reached the bar and sat down on one of the stools, still bundled up in her jacket and her steely gaze never leaving his. Ryan didn’t look away. He stared right back, waiting for the excuses to begin.
He watched her swallow and shift in her seat.
Here we go.
She inhaled deeply and he saw her hands tremble before she clasped them in her lap. “I think we should get married.”
Time stood still as Ryan stared at Lucia. Disbelief had him frozen in place. Clearly she was joki
ng. But her lips were set in a grim line as she waited for his response. She wasn’t laughing. Which meant, she wasn’t joking. The blood in his veins seemed to come to a halt. The silence turned deafening and the only movement was Lucia’s subtle but telling nervous movements as she reached out to toy with the edge of the bar rag sitting in front of her.
“It’s funny,” Ryan finally said. “I thought you said, ‘We should get married.’”
Lucia frowned at his response. “I did.” She leaned over the bar. “Let me explain.”
Ryan struggled not to laugh out loud. He couldn’t help it—this was ridiculous and this feisty little Italian was really cute when she was acting insane. But this was no joke, Lucia was talking about marriage—the word alone felt like a weight on his shoulders. He’d seen what marriage had done to his parents and it was one of many institutions not meant for him. But hell, he couldn’t wait to her this.
Lucia launched into her explanation with clipped tones. “I’m an heiress. My family has a lot of money. A lot. But they didn’t support my dreams of being a fashion designer so I came here to make it on my own.”
She paused to take a breath and Ryan realized his mouth was hanging open. She was an heiress. Did those even exist in real life? Before his stunned brain could even begin to process, she continued.
“But, you see, I ran out of money and that’s why I needed this job. I didn’t want to go home a failure like my—well, I didn’t want to do that. I have pride.”
His eyes followed as she licked her lips before continuing on, leaning over the bar even further so she was nearly touching him. “But the thing is, I have money but I can’t access it until I turn thirty or get married. Which is where you come in. I need money, you need money. If you marry me, we can both have our money.”
She looked up at him, her brows raised and her eyes full of hope. “So?” she asked. “What do you think?”
Ryan repeated the words that kept echoing in his skull. “You’re an heiress.”
“Yes.”