The Billionaires’ Prize (The Heiress Merger #2)

16. Katherine

16

KATHERINE

I’m nomming my way through a bowl of the new chocolate cereal Kingston brought me when my phone rings. LaShonda has her own ringtone. During our senior year, she changed it to the opening chords from “Eye of the Tiger.”

I put her on speakerphone so I can finish my breakfast. “Good morning.”

“So what happened? Am I interrupting anything?”

I swear I can hear her eyebrows wiggle suggestively.

“No hello?” I tease. She’s always been a cut-to-the-chase sort of person, and I know she’s totally rolling her eyes from three states away.

“Fine,” I say. We have lots of catching up to do. Taking a deep breath, I try to remember the last time I spoke to her. Yesterday? It feels like a lifetime ago. “He said he didn’t leave because he doesn’t want me. He left because he did.”

Even repeating those words gets my blood racing. We’ve settled some things, but there’s still a bruise there, lurking beneath the skin of the young woman who wanted to be desired. Claimed.

Shon squeals. “Girl!”

I hum, unsure what to say or add because I don’t want to get into the shower sex. Or the scene from last night. I mean, I’ll probably tell her. Eventually. We’re terrible at keeping secrets from each other. But right now, it all feels new and exciting and special. Almost like a wish. Something you don’t want to say out loud, or it won’t come true.

“He sent the charity a million dollars,” I admit between bites.

And that makes me feel a certain way. Sorta happy, a little numb. He never wanted his inheritance. His charitable giving is incredible, but still. It feels. . . odd.

“So he can go on a date with you,” Shon fills in, her voice rising with each word.

I glance toward the foyer, wondering how long he’ll be at the gym.

“He could have dated me years ago.” I try not to feel so heartbroken over time wasted. Didn’t I just tell Gabe the best things are worth waiting for?

I believe that. As hard as it is to hear and as hard as it is to believe in. But still, there’s a part of me growling with frustration over wasted days. Wasted years .

“What did you say?” she asks.

I tell her how we got interrupted by the woman taking photos and then how he kind of got an eye full before we came back to the city.

“You are living the dream!”

“Trust me, this feels more like a nightmare some moments.” Being chased by photographers. Sleeping on the floor. Finding out my family kept important details from me. It’s been a lot.

Shon’s laugh booms through my speaker. “Boo hoo. I’m Katherine Montgomery, and I have to choose between three gorgeous billionaires.”

“Hmph. I wish you were here so I could throw a pillow at you.” Standing, I grab my empty bowl and my phone.

“Send the jet, honey.”

We laugh because it’s a running joke between us.

“Just let me know when you’re free. Speaking of. . . are you seeing anyone?”

After dropping my dirty dishes in the dishwasher, I head for my closet. It’s time to put on some battle armor. I’m sure my assistant has a stack of messages waiting for me. And no matter how much I enjoyed myself this weekend, I won’t let it interfere with my work.

“No changing the subject.”

“I’m tired of talking about men. Before Gabe and Alex, it was Tyler and my other dating misadventures.” Not that I’ve dated a lot. But enough to know that the men of Manhattan only want me for my name and connections.

Which is why Alex and Gabe are so refreshing. They’re both self-made men with no need for my pocketbook. Or my inheritance.

“But Kingston’s always been around,” she muses, as if I need the reminder.

“My one bright spot.” I reach for my favorite suit—a heathered gray with a pale pink detail. Putting my phone on the island, I set about dressing.

“What about Ford?”

“Okay, he’s the other.”

“And Sutton,” she prompts.

“And Sutton,” I agree. Three good men.

“And your dad isn’t so bad.”

I’m not sure our relationship will ever feel normal after I was so cringe to him. To be fair, I’d believed my mother’s lies. It took years to realize that some people can build such a web of deceit the fabrication feels completely true and plausible.

“But my grandfather was a manipulative bastard.” I take a deep breath and tell her about the inheritance stipulation.

She’s silent so long I reach for the phone to make sure the call is still connected.

It feels good to share that truth with someone who understands. We’ve known each other for years. Shared so many secrets. We’ve been there through ups and downs and twists and turns. Heartbreak and triumph. Lost pets and family members. Holding our breath together through college admissions.

And now this.

One last twist of the knife from the grave.

Shon’s grandparents adore her. They don’t have the means to leave her billions of dollars, but I’m positive that they’d never insist she marry someone in order to inherit anything.

“That scumbag!” Her outburst brings a smile to my face and warm, squishy feelings to my chest. “You went to Harvard! Attended all those boring board meetings. Ohmygod! What is wrong with him? You did everything they asked you to do. You’re gorgeous and smart and capable. What more does he want?”

“For me to have a husband, apparently.”

An indecipherable sound explodes from her lips, and she starts babbling about legalities and guys who need a swift kick in the nuts.

“Now, do you see why I’m tired of talking about men?”

“I’m spiraling.”

I huff a laugh. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I drank an entire bottle of Chardonnay,” I admit.

“I’ll join you. I can’t believe he did that. What the actual, and I say this with my full and ample chest, hell was he thinking?”

This is what I love about LaShonda. She loves fiercely. Once she’s in your corner, she’s not leaving. She’ll fight for her friends and support them with her last breath.

My other friends are more subdued. Which is probably why my mom didn’t want me around Shon. Shon’s real. She’s loyal to things that really matter.

“If I had to put money on it,” I say, sliding my left stocking into place, “I’d say he didn’t believe a woman was smart enough to handle her own money. And that we’re too emotional.” I roll my eyes. “Which is ridiculous because his own daughter has been at the helm of the company for years.”

“In name only,” Shon scoffs.

True. Grandfather never could fully let go of the reins. Even after he’d appointed my mother, he’d gone behind her back and made backroom deals that left her screaming like a banshee. Luckily, that wasn’t long before I left for Harvard, so I didn’t bear the brunt of most of her wrath.

“Anyway. So that’s that. Stupid flu. If I’d been well enough, I wouldn’t have been blindsided by the whole thing.”

“Ford didn’t tell you?”

“He didn’t go. You know how he is. He distanced himself a long time ago.”

“Did your grandfather leave him anything?”

I don’t know for sure, but. . . “I’d bet money on it. He has a penis.”

Shon chuckles.

With my thigh highs on and my favorite suit in place, I glance at the wall of shoes. Time for the most important decision of the morning.

“What do you think?” I turn on the camera so Shon can see my reflection in the mirror.

She gives a purr of appreciation. “Slay! Or whatever the kids are saying these days.”

I laugh.

“You are the kids these days.” Aiming the camera at the shoes, I ask, “Which pair?”

“Hmm. . . You need something that says you’re not afraid of a scandal. That you’re a strong, confident woman.”

I like the sound of that. Even if the truth is more murky. I am afraid of scandal. I am petrified of it.

Which should have entered my mind before I slept with two men at once. Two incredibly prominent men.

A tendril of anxiety creeps up my spine.

“How about the black with the little bow at the ankle?”

“Hmm.” The sound is automatic. A non-response response.

“What’s wrong? Turn me around?”

I flip the camera around.

“You’ve got that wrinkle between your brows. What are you thinking?”

I smile because it’s nice when someone knows you so well. “Maybe this wasn’t my brightest idea.”

“What? The suit? You love that suit.”

I perch on my vanity stool, wishing I hadn’t fixed my hair already because I really want to run my fingers through it. “It’s not the suit. I meant. . . this.”

I wave a hand around, encompassing everything.

“Telling the auctioneer to offer two dates. Like that wasn’t going to attract attention.”

She gives a hum of agreement. My veins catch fire as my brain calculates and analyzes.

“So why’d you do it?”

The lights in my closet are so dang bright. Designed to showcase all the pretty things and colors, but now they don’t let me escape my reality. Or Shon’s questions.

“I wanted them to save face.” Beneath the hot stage lights, I’d made a calculated decision. Two dates so neither of them would lose.

“Or maybe you didn’t want to see who would win and who wouldn’t meet that final bid for you.”