House of Scarlett Read online

As I tug Gabriel behind me toward the stairs, I hear Liz whisper, “Oh my God, they were totally making out on the couch, weren’t they?”

  “We’re never talking about this ever again, but yes, yes they were,” Amy replies in a hushed tone. “Go, Scarlett, go.”

  Forty-One

  Legend

  As much as I want to continue what was happening downstairs, I saw the flash of pain across Scarlett’s face when she jumped off me.

  “You’re still hurting, aren’t you?”

  She shuts the door to her apartment behind us and leans against it. The red staining her cheeks makes it that much harder to stay six feet away from her. I want to go to her, but right now, I’m afraid that if I touch her, we’ll both end up naked, and she’ll push herself further than her body is ready for.

  “Not that much.” She moves toward me, her hips swaying ever so slightly, and I know what she wants.

  I don’t want to tell her no, but no matter how amazing it would feel to sink my dick inside her right now, it’s not worth it if she feels even a second of discomfort.

  She pauses in front of me and wets her lips.

  Fuck. Me. I reach out to wrap a hand around her hip and gently bring her against me. With my lips ghosting over her temple, I break the bad news.

  “You could tempt the devil himself, ladybug. But I don’t want to hurt you. It’s still too soon.”

  A frustrated sound escapes her throat, and I grip her tighter to keep her from pulling away.

  “I told you, I’m not an invalid.”

  “And I’m not going anywhere. We got plenty of time to fit in every single thing that’s on your mind, and about a hundred forty-nine more things on mine. No need to rush.”

  Scarlett shifts her head to look me in the eye. “A hundred forty-nine?”

  “Ballpark.”

  “Okay.” She releases a long sigh, and I tuck her hair behind her ear. “I just want to be back to normal already.”

  “I know, and you will be soon. Give your body a couple more days, and then you’ll be your regular unstoppable self.”

  She flicks a coy glance up at me. “And where will you be?”

  “Inside you every fucking chance I get.”

  The rest of the weekend passes so fast, I wish I could slow down time.

  The club numbers are climbing steadily, but our financials still look like shit for the time being. When Monday morning rolls around, the only thing I wish I had to worry about was giving Scarlett the last dose of her pills, but the emails waiting in my inbox can’t be ignored.

  Two of the investors have called for a meeting this week to discuss the viability of the club.

  When I read the word viability, my gut sinks. No fucking way are they going to force me into pulling the plug on it already. Not a fucking chance.

  But that’s the problem with using other people’s money and getting it the way I did. I wasn’t in a position of power, and they knew it. Their lawyers added protective language to the agreements to make sure that I couldn’t operate without taking into account their opinions and wishes. Almost like a board of directors.

  If I wanted the money, I didn’t have a choice. So I took their deal.

  “Everything okay?” Scarlett asks from the kitchen table where she sips a double shot of espresso with her laptop open in front of her. “You’re really quiet.”

  I close the email and shove my phone in my pocket. “Club stuff. It’s fine.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  I shake my head. “I’ve gotta meet with my investors this week. They don’t like the numbers they’re seeing, but I’ll handle it.”

  Scarlett’s lips press together. “We can get more people in the doors. I can keep making appearances. Whatever you need.”

  I take the seat next to her and pick up her hand to play with her fingers. “You’ve done plenty.”

  “Gabriel, please. I want to help.”

  Her fingers are so different from mine. No scarred and busted knuckles. No calluses or rough skin.

  I lift them to my lips and press a kiss to the back of them. “If you want to come to the club this weekend, I’d appreciate it.”

  Her smile illuminates her whole face. “Of course I want to come. And since Amy has finally lifted her ban on me leaving the building, I’m getting back to normal today, if you know what I mean.”

  I do know what she means, and I can’t fucking wait.

  “Take it easy today. Don’t go running all over town. If there’s anything I can get for you—”

  She silences me with a shake of her head. “I promise I’m not going to overdo it. I just have one really important errand to run, and after that, I’ll be here all day.” She leans over and presses her lips to mine. “Now, go do all the things you’ve let slide while you’ve been taking such good care of me. I know you have a ton on your plate. I appreciate every second you’ve spent with me, but it’s time for both of us to get back to work.”

  She’s right. I have let a ton of shit go, or pushed it off on Q and Zoe, because I didn’t want to leave Scarlett’s side.

  I haven’t trained since I sparred with Bohannon, and after our run-in with Bodhi Black, I know I need to get back in the gym. Whatever happens next, I need to be ready. Time to give my old trainer a call and get back to work.

  Plus, Bump has been texting me damn near every hour, asking when I’ll be home because Roux misses me. I definitely miss the hell out of both of them.

  “All right. You do you, and I’ll do me today. I’ll bring dinner by tonight, though.”

  “Deal, boss.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “That ain’t gonna stick either. Keep trying, ladybug.”

  Forty-Two

  Scarlett

  “I owe you so freaking much. Thank you, Kels.” I lean in to air-kiss my best friend so I don’t mess up the hair and makeup that she came over to apply with only fifteen minutes’ notice.

  “You know I’d only do this for you.” Kelsey shoots me a wink as she cleans her brushes and slides them back into her pouch, one by one.

  “I know, and I’m so lucky to have you. I finally feel normal again for the first time since the surgery . . . and now I need to go beard the lion in her den.”

  “Meryl Fosse is a lioness if I’ve ever seen one. But I also think she’d be crazy not to give you an invite to her event, so I don’t think you’re going to have to beg too much.”

  Kelsey didn’t see the way Meryl looked at me that time she told me I was too fake. The memory still cuts deep. Along with the fact that my father has zero intentions of leaving the Hamptons to see how I’m doing. Not thinking about that.

  I push away the hurt as I disappear into my closet to produce my outfit of choice for the day. A vintage burnt-orange House of Scarlett skirt that hits right below the knees, a cream silk blouse with gold braid edging the collar, and brown-and-cream Italian suede booties.

  Kelsey finishes cleaning up as I slip it on, and then she helps me with the final touches and rearranges my hair for the final time.

  “You look amazing. Class personified. If Meryl won’t give you an invite, you walk away with your head held high.”

  I nod, but in my mind, that’s not even a possible outcome.

  It’s hard to explain why I’m so determined to get Meryl Fosse as a client, but I feel the need right down to my bones. It’s not just because she’s the founder and president of a charity or that she comes from money and has plenty to spend. It’s more. She’s practically the embodiment of all the good things I could possibly imagine. Great taste, kind heart, hardworking, and wields massive influence over the more conservative social set.

  Also, for some reason, I can’t abide the fact that she called what I do fake.

  Maybe I’m out to prove a point. Maybe it’s my ego calling the shots. Either way, when I make my way across town to her charity’s offices, I’m on a mission.

  “Ms. Fosse will be out of her meeting shortly, Ms. Priest. I’m so sorry for the
wait. I didn’t realize you were coming this morning.” The receptionist at the front desk frowns with concern, but I smile.

  “I didn’t have an appointment. Totally my fault. I don’t mind waiting.”

  I take a seat in the lobby area and fish out my phone to keep myself entertained. There’s a message on the screen waiting for me.

  * * *

  Gabriel: Take it easy today, killer. Don’t overdo it.

  Scarlett: I took a town car, and I’ve only walked about fifty feet. I promise I’m okay.

  Gabriel: Good, because I have plans for you later.

  * * *

  A shiver of excitement ripples through me, ending between my legs. I type out a message before I lose my nerve.

  * * *

  Scarlett: I want you to take me like you did in your office. Hard. Hot. Fast. Dirty.

  * * *

  My nipples peak against my bra, and I know this is a bad idea because my cream silk blouse will provide very little cover.

  * * *

  Gabriel: Fuck. You tempt me. You’ll get what you want. I’ll be lucky if I can make it through the day with any blood left in my brain.

  * * *

  I’m staring down at my phone, trying to come up with a reply, when Meryl Fosse clears her throat. My head jerks up, and there she is, standing three feet away from me, with a slight smile on her face that says this isn’t the first time she’s tried to get my attention.

  Well, that’s just great.

  Like a guilty kid, I shove the phone in my pocket as I rise. “Ms. Fosse, such a pleasure to see you again.” I reach out and shake her hand.

  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I didn’t realize I’d have the pleasure of your company today, Ms. Priest. To what do I owe the honor?”

  “I’d like to speak to you about your upcoming event.”

  She lifts her chin and then waves a hand toward the glass door in front of us. “Come with me. We can chat in my office for a few minutes. I have a call in a half hour, so I’m afraid I don’t have much time to give you.”

  “That’s totally fine. I shouldn’t have dropped by without an appointment, but I suppose I let my excitement get the better of me.”

  Meryl says nothing until we reach her office. Instead of it being a meticulously appointed space with floor-to-ceiling windows and thousands of dollars in furnishings, I’m surprised to see a fairly basic large black desk, bookshelves with photos, and a dozen piles of books and files scattered on every flat surface.

  “I know you’re expecting something that looks more photo-worthy, but this is how work really gets done around here.”

  “I’m not judging, I swear.”

  “Good, then you can sit. Here, let me clear off this chair.” Meryl scoops up a pile of files from the guest chair and moves it to a side table. “I’m sure your office is perfectly neat and tidy at all times, ready to snap and post a photo whenever it suits you.”

  “To be totally honest, Meryl, I actually do most of my work at my kitchen table or in bed. I rarely sit at my desk, and that’s the only reason it’s always neat and tidy.”

  A little of the standoffishness fades from her gaze. “Ah, so you just don’t show the world that piece of your life.”

  I smile. “My store is called Curated rather than Reality for a reason, but that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Then why are you here, Ms. Priest?”

  “Please, call me Scarlett. Ms. Priest feels too formal. And I’m here because I want to come to your event, but my invitation got lost in the mail.”

  Meryl tilts her head to one side. “Can I be frank, Scarlett?”

  “Of course.”

  “Your invitation didn’t so much get lost in the mail as never mailed because I didn’t think you’d care to attend. This event isn’t about photo ops and publicity. It’s about raising money to assist kids who might not otherwise get any support.”

  Her words sting and help me realize that her opinion of me is even lower than I thought.

  “I care about causes too. Just because I make my living in a way you consider frivolous doesn’t mean I’m heartless.”

  “I never figured you for heartless. Just self-absorbed.”

  Her quick comeback stings even more, and the chances of me getting an invite, let alone securing her as a client, are sitting at slim-to-none right now.

  I straighten my shoulders in my seat and decide that I’m done beating around the bush. “And because I’m so self-absorbed, my money isn’t good enough for your cause?”

  That gives her pause. “I never said that.”

  I brace my elbows on my knees and lean forward. “Then what’s your problem with me?”

  She narrows her gaze on me. “You really expect me to believe that you don’t know your mother practically slammed her door in my face when I was starting this place, and told me not to ask her for money ever again?”

  My mouth drops open. “No . . . she didn’t.” A hot wave of shame washes over me at the thought of my mother, whose pedestal seems to get taller with every year that passes since she died, saying something like that to Meryl.

  “She did.”

  I lift my hand to my face and drop my forehead into it. “I am so sorry. I had no idea.”

  Meryl’s expression softens a bit. “I know you and your mother were very close, and I hate to speak ill of the dead. But she left a lasting impression on me, and I’m afraid I’ve transferred that to you rather unfairly.”

  “I had no idea. Truly. My mother . . . she was passionate about charity too. I’m not sure why she would’ve done that. She . . .”

  For the first time, I realize what a lost cause pursuing Meryl as a client has been, and wonder how many other ways I’ve canonized my mother since she passed away. Once someone is gone, it’s so easy to think of them as being more saintly than human, but I know she had her flaws too. Still, it hurts to be confronted with them in Meryl Fosse’s office.

  I shake my head, horrified as tears burn behind my eyes once more. I can’t cry in front of her. Not now. Jesus, Scarlett, pull yourself together.

  I pop out of my chair, intent on running out of her office, but Meryl’s hushed words stop me.

  “Please, don’t go. I’m afraid your mother and I had our differences, but since I can’t apologize to her for holding on to them, I can apologize to you. She believed your father had an interest in me before any of us were married, and I didn’t think it was important to address, given that I was already in love with someone else. But I let her think she was right. I . . . it was a petty thing. I should’ve let it go many years ago. It never should have even started, to be honest.”

  I couldn’t fathom why Meryl would object so strongly to Curated, but now I get it. Old grudges die hard. “Thank you for telling me that. I suppose I’ve done a good job of making my mother seem like she was perfect in life now that she’s gone. It’s so much easier to focus on the good, you know?”

  “Absolutely. Although it’s easier to do with some parents than with others.”

  I nod slowly. “It would’ve been a hell of a lot harder if it were my father,” I murmur. “Not that anyone ever accused him of being a saint.”

  “Trust me, I understand that well,” she says with empathy underscoring her words. “My father was no sterling example of a parent.”

  Slowly, I lower myself back into the chair, my hands gripping the arms. “Really?”

  Her chin dips. “He left when I was six, twelve, and seventeen. I saw him for the last time when I was twenty-four. He vomited on a table during my wedding reception. It was humiliating, and I never forgave him. He’s been gone for many years, and I wish with all my heart that it could’ve been different. Now I have to live with the knowledge that I’ll never have a chance to have any kind of relationship with him.”

  In that moment, we’re not Scarlett Priest and Meryl Fosse, two women who have it all. Instead, we’re two little girls who only ever wanted fathers who gave a damn, and it breaks my heart.
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  “My father has never cared that he had a daughter. I know there’s no ranking for suffering, but I can relate. I wish you hadn’t had to live through that, Meryl. I wish . . .” I trail off because I don’t know what else to say. Then something occurs to me. “This is why your charity is so important, isn’t it? Because you’re giving kids a place to go and people who care about them, no matter what’s happening at home.”

  A radiant smile beams from her face. “Exactly.”

  “I would really be honored if you’d let me attend. And if you would prefer that I don’t, I will understand completely, and I’ll still be donating. I really mean that. I’m not just saying it to get an invitation.”

  “I know you’re not,” Meryl says as a dimple appears in one of her cheeks. “I have an excellent bullshit detector. Daughter of an alcoholic, so I come by it naturally. But I’d love for you to attend, Scarlett. That is . . . if you’ll donate something to the silent auction to help us raise money on top of the ticket prices.”

  A smile ghosts over my lips because I respect the hell out of her negotiating ability. “I would love to. Thank you so much.”

  “It’ll be my pleasure. Have the auction item sent over by Thursday. I’ll see you Saturday night.”

  I freeze at her words. I thought the event was next week, but I keep my smile intact.

  Well, we’ll just have to make it work.

  I’ll go to the club Friday and then after the charity event Saturday, and Gabriel’s investors will see that everything’s moving in the right direction and there’s no need for alarm. It’ll all be fine.

  Still, a feeling of disquiet follows me out of the charity offices and chases me all the way home.

  Forty-Three

  Legend