Money Shot (40 page)

“Ahem.”

I opened my eyes to see Ashton’s father, the imposing Mr. Barclay staring at us. He was a grizzled bear, still hard and aggressive, showing signs of being past his prime. Gray hair with streaks of black threading through. A barrel chest only just out-matched by his belly. The same green eyes that could melt your heart or turn it to ice.

His were colder than Antarctica.

Shit.

Not a good first impression.

His disapproving glare dropped.

Dropped to my hand still in his son’s shorts.

Of fuck!

I yanked my hand out.

Ashton straightened his shirt and laughed in a decidedly not funny way.

Oh God. No.

A fucking horrible first impression. He thought I was a disgraceful slut, trying to fuck her way into his fortune.

Oh God. How would he ever believe I was a decent, honest person now? I had to fix this. I had to show him who I really was.

Why did I want his approval so much?

“Sorry,” I said. I held out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Barclay.”

He regarded my hand with disdain. The hand I’d just had wrapped around his son’s cock. I yanked it back and offered the other one.

His disdain remained.

“My name is Captain Howard Barclay the third. You may address me as Captain Barclay. I spent over a decade in the Navy earning that rank. You may have also noticed that this vessel is underway and I am its captain. Captain Barclay is more fitting, wouldn’t you agree?”

The chill in his voice could’ve formed icebergs in the tropical water outside.

“Sorry, sir,” I said. My hand fell to my side. “For everything.”

“That’s a start,” he said, “pitiful as it may be.”

“Father,” Ashton said, “Don’t be so hard on her. I’m sure you remember the vigor of youth and its occasional improprieties.”

“Vigor has yet to leave me,” he said, “and yet I still know how to exercise good judgement in loosening its leash. And I would think that meeting your better’s parents would be a very good time to keep it on a short leash.”

“Father,” Ashton said, “I’m asking you to be nice to Charlie.”

“Charlie is it? A man’s name? How novel.”

I blushed. And bled. On the inside. I would’ve paid anything my middle-class life could afford for a deep hole to fall into. Or maybe to push him into.

“Charlotte, Mr., errr, Captain Barclay,” I said. “Charlotte Dunn.”

I avoided his gaze. The judgement in them was like a guillotine above my neck. The blade falling fast.

“When I meet a person of reputable character, I expect a firm shake and a confident look in their eyes. I see that you can offer neither.”

A fire sparked in my belly.

“And some that offer both are the least reputable of them all.”

Captain Barclay’s eyes narrowed, measuring me.

Ashton grabbed my hand, the one that had just held his cock, and pushed passed. Captain Barclay fell back, with a resistance that spoke of battles passed and never settled.

Banker Barclay didn’t want me here.

That couldn’t have been clearer. I wasn’t his class of people. I was undignified and dirty. He’d never allow his only son to wed someone like me.

“Where’s mother,” Ashton said.

“She’s readying herself for brunch,” Captain Barclay said. “Perhaps your friend would like to change into something more dignified.”

Ashton turned to him with a black look.

“This doesn’t have to be hard,” he said.

I wanted to say that there was no way it was going to be easy.

“It must be what it must be, son.”

I wanted to hide. I felt like a bug under a giant’s shoe. Captain Barclay scared me. Like no other human being ever had. He hated me.

I hated him.

But my life with Ashton depended on this ogre. What could I do to win his approval?

I’d already lost the fight. Outmaneuvered and out-gunned. Maybe that was inevitable because I hadn’t spent a decade in the Navy. I just loved his son. That was my only qualification to be standing in front of him.

A day ago, I would have said that was enough. More than enough. That our love was stronger than anything that stood against it. Stronger even than the rage that boiled below it.

That was yesterday.

Today. Now. It wasn’t nearly enough. It was nothing. It was a lone palm tree leaning into a hurricane. It was futile. Pointless. Worse. It was insulting.

I felt stupid thinking we had a chance. Thinking I could ever forgive this monster.

Hot tears threatened at the edges of my eyelids.

“Where’s mother?”

“She’s in her room readying herself for brunch.”

As if on cue, an intercom on the wall crackled to life.

“Howard, Howard! Answer me!”

Captain Barclay exhaled and seemed to deflate. His bluster dropped a few notches. He walked to the intercom and clicked a button.

“Yes, darling?”

“Howard, what took you so long? My Lord, am I supposed to grow old and die waiting for you to answer?”

Captain Barclay grimaced like a cowed dog.

“Sorry hon—”

“Don’t interrupt, Howard. It’s not polite. Has my son arrived yet? I thought I heard the chopper.”

“Yes, dear. He’s here, with—”

“Why is he not hugging his poor, lonely mother then?”

Ashton squeezed my hand.

“Charlie, can you give me a few minutes? I haven’t seen mother in ages. She probably didn’t want to break down in front of you. She gets so emotional sometimes.”

“I heard that young man,” her voice crackled over the speaker.

The absolute last thing I wanted was to be left alone with Mr. Shark Senior. It seemed guaranteed one of us would end up dead.

“Sure,” I said. “Go give your mom a hug.”

I said it loud enough to ensure she would hear over the intercom. Hopefully it would win me a few points.

“I’ll be up in a few minutes,” Ashton said.

“Don’t make an old woman wait.”

Ashton kissed me on the cheek.

“I’ll just be a few minutes,” he said.

“Don’t worry so much, Ash,” I said.

Captain Barclay’s lips puckered like he’d eaten a sour lemon.

The speaker crackled.

“Howard, you ignoramus, do you ever remember to turn off the intercom?”

Captain Barclay flinched and switched the button. He turned back to me.

“Ash? If I’m not very much mistaken, my fingers wrote the name Ashton on his birth certificate.”

“Dad,” Ashton said, “stop it. I want you to do your very best to be nice until I return.”

“That should be easy,” Captain Barclay said.

“Okay, better than your best. Ask her about her volunteer work in the jungles of Myanmar.”

The captain’s eyes widened for an instant. Apparently, he didn’t know about my time spent last summer working for the endangered apes there. The pay was shit, but the experience priceless.

He didn’t know me. I was just another faceless victim to him and his kind. It gave me hope that he didn’t have me completely figured out. That I had surprises left in me.

“Fine,” Captain Barclay said.

Ashton walked toward the opposite door in the room.

“Your mother won’t let you escape easily,” Captain Barclay said. “We’ll meet you in the aft lounge for brunch.”

Ashton looked at me for confirmation.

“Sure, that’s fine,” I said.

I said it, but I didn’t mean it.

But maybe I was blowing things out of proportion. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. I had a problem being too critical. About life. About my body. About things sometimes.

Maybe this was one of those times.

The door closed behind Ashton.

“Young lady,” Captain Barclay said, “I have not worked night and day for the last forty years, building a vast fortune for my family, a fortune I will one day pass to my son, only to have some harlot, some whore waltz in off the street corner and degrade my family’s good name and gene pool.”

Okay. This was definitely way worse than my critical self-thought it was.

Chapter Five

A part of me wilted, a late autumn flower straining against the coming cold. Another part of me raged. What the hell was wrong with this rich old asshole? Did all the money in the world give him the right to degrade me? To assume the worst about me and carry on as if it were true? To steal my parent’s home?

No, it didn’t. I was a person. No better, and certainly no worse, than any other person.

“Captain Barclay, what is your problem with me?”

“You mean besides the fact that I caught you giving my son a hand job a moment ago? Besides the fact that you have so little respect for him, for yourself, that you would do that?”

“That was an accident,” I said, “I didn’t—”

I wanted to ask how he could be so horrible as to kick people out of their homes. How he could be so evil to steal their memories. But all my fiery resolve went up in smoke. I felt like a guilty student in the principal’s office.

“You didn’t what, Charlie?”

I looked at him. Speechless.

“Charlie is a hooker’s name. Are you a hooker? Is my son paying to fuck you?”

The dam behind my eyes broke. Tears gushed out. I hid my face in my hands.

Anything but this. Anywhere but here.

“We are a dignified family, Charlie,” he said. “I won’t allow your wanton sexual urges to cloud my son’s mind. He will have no children by your soiled womb.”