Stunning in Stilettos: A Stunning Contemporary Romance Read online

  “And as I told you weeks ago, I already accepted a position at X2.” He leaned across the table as if to whisper to her conspiratorially and she drew back on instinct.

  “Oh come on. We both know I’m offering to pay you more. And the work will be more exciting.” She rolled her lips inward as she stared at him. Watery, ordinary blue eyes, patches of blond hair showed on his chin and jaw as he was clearly trying to appear as if he wasn’t trying too hard to be a hipster.

  “I'm happy where I am. Why is it so difficult for you to take no for an answer? I've considered your offer. I'm not interested.”

  “Oh come off it. Everyone knows that you and Ross don’t get along. The rumors are rampant that he may be firing you soon.”

  “You know what? That might be the case, but at least he’s on the up and up about it. You’re trying to steal me out from under his nose.”

  “It’s called business. Look, you seem like a smart chick. X2 is never going to go public. I’m seeing to it. And Bryan Ross is going to lose it all. The real question is if you're going to go down like the ship or not.”

  He really was disgusting. “What is it exactly you want from me?”

  He leaned back and watched her with a half lidded smirk. “I want you to be my eyes and ears. I don't need you to do anything. But a little notification of any industry-worthy news coming up. I already have someone on payroll. I used to have two. But Meredith burned herself so she's useless to me now. I promise I'll pay you enough to cover your father's debts.”

  Her almost boss had been on this asshole's payroll. Corporate espionage. Meredith … her boss … or would have been boss. “I'm going to say this again since you appear to be a simple soul who doesn't understand. I'm not going to spy for anyone.”

  “Even if it means that your sordid history can come out?”

  Something putrid and festering crawled into her gut. “You know what? You’re despicable and you can go fuck yourself.”

  Bryan might not want to talk to her right now, but they were going to talk about his competitor. It was time she filled him in on everything.

  Thirty-One

  Bryan missed her, which was ridiculous because for weeks she'd been lying to him.

  But it didn't stop the aching, cloying need to go to her. To see her. To call her. It was only because he was working himself into the ground but he managed to not respond to her emails or texts or her sexts for that matter, though the latter was more difficult to ignore.

  Every time he was in a meeting with her, he steeled himself and picked a point above her head to stare at when he asked her a question. Yeah real mature. But he could give a fuck. Five days ago, he told her he was falling in love with her. She said she was falling for him too. She just left out the little detail that she was working with the enemy.

  It hurt. That Brennan had managed to pollute the good things in his life ... like always.

  Whatever the hell is going on, he had to get to the bottom of it tonight. He couldn't go another night with her texting to see what was wrong or to see if he wanted to come over. One of these nights he was going to cave. And he'd just hate the both of them in the morning. Liar. No. The problem was, he'd still love her. What the hell was wrong with him?

  He couldn't take her blatantly lying to him again. He had to deal with her. Running away wasn't going to solve this problem. Nor was screwing it going to work. Or stalking her.

  Not that he been checking her schedule or anything. Except he had, but he knew she had a lunch date. The same lunch date that he'd been dreading all week. The one he'd seen on her appointment calendar. There was a knock at the door.

  “What?”

  The door opened and instead of Kyra on the other side was Tom.

  Bryan let out the breath he was holding, relieving some of the aching type pressure in his chest.

  “You seem tense man.”

  “I'm fine. What do you need?”

  His friend shoved his hand into his Brooks Brothers slacks. Then rocked back on his heels. It was his bad news pose. He was trying to figure out which piece of horrible news he needed to give Bryan first. But no amount of bad news was going to be worse than the woman he loved giving him up to his rival.

  “Spit it out man. Neither one of us has time to fuck around with this.”

  Tom sighed. “Okay, fine. The first piece of bad news, Meredith doesn't want to settle. She wants to go after you for more money. She's really pushing the validity of the wrongful termination.”

  Bryan stood, placing his hands on his desk “The only way I am giving that woman any money at this point is over my cold dead rigor-mortis body. I'm not giving her a dime. I've let Brennan fuck with me for far too long. He thinks that he can come and take what I built? He's welcome to try but I'm not giving him the money and ammunition to do it. She wants to sue me? Fine. She’ll lose. And I want her running so scared she rolls on him.”

  “You realize if we go after her that means we put off our IPO plans for a while? Unless we give them a reason to go away.”

  He shook his head. He was going to fight this. “I'm not backing down.”

  His friend nodded. “Good, I'm actually a little glad to hear that.” He licked his lips. “There's something else you should know.”

  Fucking fantastic. What the fuck else could ruin his day? “One of these days, you're going to have to bring me good news.”

  “Yeah, I'll work on it. And just so you know. I put a PI on Brennan.”

  Bryan's heart squeezed. He knew what was coming, knowing and hearing it from someone else, still hurt like a son of a bitch. “Yeah?”

  Tom handed over his phone. “This is Kyra Benson an hour ago with Brennan at the cafe in Seaport Village.”

  The anger clawed at his stomach lining while the hot acid of betrayal wove through his flesh and bones. “I—” There she was. The only consolation he had was she didn't look too pleased. But that didn't help. He didn't want her to be anywhere near Brennan Hargrove. “I'll deal with her.”

  Tom pressed his lips together. “Look, we need some kind of game plan. With Meredith, I don't think it's the wisest course of action for you to —”

  “I, said, I would fucking deal with it.”

  Tom sighed. “I know you'd started to fall for her. I regret ever telling you to go for it.”

  “That wasn't your fault. It was hers for thinking she could keep lying to me.” Yeah, he'd deal with Kyra all right. The only question was if he could deal with the situation without getting one final taste first?

  Thirty-Two

  “Bryan, Elaine is here to see you. Is it okay if I take off now? I have classes in the morning.”

  He looked up from his laptop and frowned. He was waiting for the final testing results of the night before the shipment went to Beta testers before he sought out Kyra to talk to her. What the hell was Elaine doing here? The last thing he needed was some fucking drama playing out. But even as he stood, it hit him. When she'd dropped by a few weeks ago, she'd been adamant they were going to the ballet. She'd thought she could force his hand.

  He didn't have time for this shit. No more games. He was done. For the last five years, he'd been waving a big ol' middle finger to Brennan and Heather. Women like Elaine didn't even feature into his thoughts unless it was for his own needs. He hadn't led her on, but he hadn't stopped seeing her either. “Okay, send her on in.”

  It was time he started to let some of this shit go. The Kyra revelation was getting to him because she'd gotten under his skin. From the moment he met her when she had no idea who he was, she'd been working her way into his brain. Unless she did know who you were to start. No, she hadn't known. That had been genuine anger. Genuine rage that day they “met.” She'd thought he'd been playing her.

  And if she hadn't known, was it possible that he'd overreacted about the lunch? No. Why hadn't she told him? Why didn't you ask? Instead you fucked her and ignored her.

  Yeah ... That shit wasn't going to fly anymore.

  Elaine b
reezed in with her usual elegance and touch of perfume. “Bryan, why aren't you dressed? We have a reservation?”

  He tried to ignore the fact that she sounded like a lover with some kind of claim on his time. Because even though she understood the arrangement, no ties, no strings, ever, she also got that he needed this.

  Though, now that he looked at her, she was all wrong. What he really needed was spunky, with a mouth like a sailor. Thick curling hair and cinnamon skin, with a smile wide enough to light the city and eyes dark enough to fall into.

  “Elaine. What are you doing here?” How could he ever have had her after meeting Kyra?

  Her lips pursed almost as if she were frowning, but her forehead didn't move. Of course. Botox. She was twenty-eight and terrified of turning thirty. “What do you mean? Because we had a fight? You said some things you didn't mean. I forgive you. Let's go.”

  “I've met someone. This is over.”

  She sighed before smoothing her hand down the front of the silk blue concoction that matched her eyes. “Is it this Kyra woman?”

  His brows snapped down. “Why the hell would you know—”

  “You think I don't notice when you call out another woman's name when I have your dick in my mouth?”

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Elaine—”

  She shook her head before shrugging off the shawl. “You think I didn't know I was a stand in for another woman when we first met? I mean, God, the things I let you do to me.” She tossed her purse onto the leather chair.

  “I'm sorry if any of this hurts you or disrespects you. It was never my inten—”

  But she wasn't listening to him. She reached behind her and tugged on the zipper of her dress. The bodice fell away immediately.

  Oh shit. He'd always picked these willowy women that looked like the woman who'd broken his heart. But since meeting Kyra, he found he liked added curves, added muscle. He liked a woman that didn't break. “You need to stop.”

  “The hell I do. I know how to bring you right back to the edge you like. Madonna whore right? This is the part where I play the whore. Suck you off. You play with my tits then come down my throat or all over my me.”

  Under normal circumstances, he'd be getting off on this. Her refusal to take no for an answer. The way he'd let this one aspect of his life lose control and crack. He'd take what she was offering and sometimes all he did was take. Her pleasure an afterthought.

  Not like with Kyra.

  It was better for him to see her come apart. It would be so easy to slide back into that. To take what Elaine offered. To bury the feelings and the hurt and betrayal. But he wasn't going to do that anymore. Wasn't going to take less than he deserved.

  In the split second his mind aligned with his heart to fight for Kyra, fight for what he felt, he realized that despite the naked woman standing in front of him, offering him anything he wanted, in any way, he wasn't at all hard. Kyra owned him completely. Now all he had to do was let her know that.

  * * *

  Holy shit, they'd done it. Bryan had been right, the pompous ass. He'd insisted that they could get the game out to beta testers before the deadline and he'd fucking been right. She hated when that happened.

  Though in the end, it had been a blend of both their methods that had gotten it done. And the team working their asses off.

  Kyra popped into Megan's office to find her friend passed out on her couch. That couldn't be comfortable. But she deserved the rest. Kyra pulled a blanket over her, then noticed the bag of dirty clothes next to the couch. They'd all been pulling some all nighters lately. But maybe this had more to do with Megan not wanting to go home than working too many late nights.

  Note to self: Stop being such a self-absorbed friend and find out what the hell is going on with Megan and Matt. Kyra knew that they'd been dating for a few years. But in the six months or so they'd worked together, Kyra had only ever met his brother Jase, who more often than not filled in for his brother. And from the looks that he gave Megan, Kyra figured he had a thing for her too. She'd delve into that fray soon enough. Right now Megan needed the sleep and Kyra needed to deal with the curious case of her disappearing boyfriend. She skirted the kitchen, then half skipped, half jogged, down to Bryan's corner office. As it was past ten, Allison was long gone, so there was no one to stop her.

  And seeing as he'd been emailing her pretty much every two minutes up until thirty minutes ago, he was definitely around and would want to know they were done.

  She knocked once then opened the door. “Hey, Bryan just wanted to let you know that we’ve—”

  Pain sliced her from collarbone to gut as her eyes took everything in a fraction of a second. The same beautiful brunette from the hotel. The one she'd seen again a couple of weeks ago. She’d never forget that exquisite profile as she'd worked Bryan's dick into her mouth.

  Her gut clenched, and her haphazard dinner of salad and hot Cheetos threatened to make a reappearance. Oh God.

  Everything happened in slow motion, but she couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't move. But she knew that it all happened in a matter of seconds. The woman was leaning her beautiful body into Bryan, and he had his hands ... fuck ... Were they reaching for her tits ... ? Yep, oh God, those Cheetos were such a damn mistake.

  But then the brunette was tripping back. And Bryan was saying something as he stumbled toward Kyra. Or maybe she was falling away. It was so hard to tell with the vertigo and the spinning room. “Kyra.”

  She whipped away and steadied her hand on the doorframe. Fuck. That hurt. This. This is what you get for falling in love. This is what happens when you think you can trust someone.

  The things he'd told her, the way he'd opened up. She placed a hand on her belly. No. She was not going to throw up in here and let this woman laugh at her and her little fantasy dreams that Bryan Ross might love her.

  “Kyra—” In her peripheral vision, she saw him coming toward her. “Don't you dare touch me. Hell, what do you need me for? Seems like I'm just the fluffer anyway.”

  “It's not what you think, Kyra. I didn’t—”

  The brunette, however, begged to differ. “Oh he would, honey, and he was about to, before you interrupted. Kyra I presume?”

  She had to get out of here. Before she ended up committing death by stiletto. If that bitch said one more—

  “You made a valiant effort honey. But I'm here to stay. Someone like you can't hold his interest for long.”

  “That is enough. Elaine. Get your clothes and get out. Before I throw you out.” Then his hands were on her back. “Baby, I didn’t do what you think. I know we need to talk, but I didn't do this and I know you didn’t—”

  With the effort of dragging around an elephant, she lifted her head and turned so their eyes would meet. “So much for always being up front with me. Check your email. We're done.”

  She had no idea how she managed it, but somehow, she managed to put one foot right in front of the other and walk away from her heart.

  Thirty-Three

  “More.”

  Ricca slid a look at Micha and Megan. But Micha apparently gave zero fucks about Kyra’s day drinking so she poured her another tequila. “Drink.”

  “For the love of God, alcohol will not solve her problem,” Ricca muttered.

  “You don't know that.” At least that’s what Kyra was trying to say, but there was something wrong with her tongue. It didn’t work the way she wanted. After last night’s fun adventure, she’d gotten wasted then turned up at Ricca and Beckett’s. At first, Beckett had been less than thrilled, but he’d taken one look at her and gotten Ricca to come take care of her, then gone off to sulk ... with his raging hard on. “I'm really sorry I interrupted last night. Tell Becket I'm sorry, would you?”

  She must have been making some kind of sense because Micha and Megan snorted and Ricca just patted her hand. “Ignore my husband. He's a big baby. That was already round three for the night, so not like the man was going without.”

  Megan
's eyes bugged. “Seriously, what vitamins is he taking? I haven't had sex in nearly two months. I'm so jealous.”

  That sudden revelation had them all staring at her. And Kyra remembered the line of questioning she had for Megan later. “Y’kidding?”

  Megan waved a hand at her. “Nope, we're here to talk about your drama. Not my fucked up situation.”

  Suddenly, Jaya came in to Ricca's with a knock and a flurry of strollers and baby carriers. With the baby strapped to her chest, and Alexa in the stroller, Kyra had no idea how she managed it all. All while wearing stilettos of course.

  “So sorry I’m late. Damn sitter didn’t show. Alec of course thought his lunch meeting was actually at eleven. Damn it. Sorry. Continue. I'll catch up and fill in my own gaps.”

  Even as Micha poured, she took the baby out of Jaya's hands. Seeing the statuesque Amazon pouring liquor while cooing at a baby, Krya wanted to laugh.

  From the stroller, little Alexa said, “Shit.” Everyone stared. Jaya groaned.

  “You see what I'm dealing with. I slipped up last week and said it in front of her. Next thing I know she keeps saying it. Sometimes in context. How long do you think it'll be before Alec notices our baby girl is cussing like her Auntie Micha?”

  Micha raised a delicate brow. “Don't look at me. You know I prefer a well timed, Fu—”

  Jaya glared at her, “Micha!”

  Her friend just laughed.

  “Anyway. Enough of my drama, catch me up.”

  As Kyra drunkenly slurred though the story, Micha poured more tequila. This was going to hurt later, but she didn't care. Hell, at least she’d feel something other than empty. When she was done. Jaya looked at Micha. “You get the shovel, I’ll get the lye?”

  “Hey,” Ricca complained. “Why am I always getting left out of the killing people brigade?”