Reckless (Bertoli Crime Family #2) (22 page)

The veins stood out on his neck. He was boiling. "We had a meeting today. Charles Whitmore spoke."

I nodded. "I'm aware of that. In fact, it was the reason I took off. I can't tolerate two seconds of that blowhard."

My father gripped his glass so hard I thought it might break. "His presentation involved some important revelations about our company!”

“And your point is?”

“That you’re being a difficult son of a bitch.” My dad stopped himself and closed his eyes. He sucked in a deep breath and then slowly let it out. When he reopened his eyes, they were more focused. “Tyler, there’s going to be a vote,” he said quietly.

“On?” I asked, though I knew the answer.

“Your removal.”

I knew the words were coming, but it hit me like a punch in the gut. It was my turn to get pissed. “Do you really want to do this, Dad?” I asked. “Because this can get really messy.”

He stared at me unblinking, unperturbed by my threat. “I’m sorry, son . . . but you leave me no other choice. Your cavalier attitude about the company and your contempt for the rules have shown that you’re unfit.”

I snorted with disgust. “And Charles Whitmore is?” He opened his mouth to reply, but I interrupted. “You know what? Don’t even bother. If you try to remove me, I’ll make sure to make your life a living hell.”

My words didn't produce a visible reaction, but I knew he was simmering with anger.

“See you in the boardroom,” I said.

Then I turned and walked out.

I
t was an hour until eight
. I was at home in my small apartment, which cost an overpriced arm and a leg. I was standing in front of my bedroom mirror, arguing with myself. I couldn't decide if I was going to go to meet Tyler or not. I'd had a particularly stressful day at work with Christine sending me all over the building for menial tasks.

I'd pissed her off because I spilled her morning coffee all over her cashmere sweater. I thought for sure I was fired in that moment, and I'm sure she was tempted, but she probably figured it would be more fun to continue torturing and humiliating me.

With the stress of the day still weighing on my shoulders, I felt like I needed a release.

But that wasn’t the real reason why I was so conflicted. Images of Tyler’s rippling abs and muscular body continued to torment me, filling me with a burning lust that was both startling and exciting.

During my high school and college years, I’d had a couple of boyfriends, but nothing that ever amounted to anything. Most of the relationships had ended in heartache.

And none of my boyfriends had the ridiculous confidence—and overpowering arrogance—that Tyler did. Arrogance that should have repelled me from him, but instead drew me to him like a moth to a flame.

He’s rich, powerful and handsome
, I told myself.
And he wants me to go on a date with him. What harm can come from it? It’s not like he’s asking me to marry him, and it’s likely he’s just looking to have a little fun. After all the stress I’ve been going through working for Christine, shouldn’t I have a little playtime for myself?

Images of his chiseled features, playful grin and incredibly sexy blue eyes flashed before me.

"Screw it," I said finally, making my decision. I pulled open the closet and began searching for something sexy to wear. "I'm going.”

W
hen Victoria came strutting
into Roxy’s in a tight black dress and heels, I felt a grin form on my face. I knew she couldn't resist.

Roxy's was a happening little bar in the middle of downtown. Bumping music, undulating bodies, swirling, colored lights and hazy smoke made the atmosphere intoxicating.

I was sitting in the V.I.P section that overlooked most of the place with the rest of the high-rollers, dressed in expensive silk slacks and a white shirt that was unbuttoned at the top.

I watched as Victoria glided through the crowd of twisting bodies, obviously searching for me. I walked over to the edge of the section and waved. After a moment, she noticed me and began to make her way over.

"I'm glad you could make it," I yelled over the music when she reached me. I gave her a disarming smile, and surprisingly, she smiled back. Still, her eyes seemed to say,
I don't trust you as far as I can throw you
.

It was hard not to ogle her body. Her tits and that ass, Mmm. I wanted to take her in the back and fuck the stubbornness out of her.

"I almost didn't come," she shouted. I noticed her makeup and found that I liked it. Smokey eye shadow decorated her lids, a faint blush on her cheeks and shiny lip gloss.

If only they were wrapped around my dick.

The image of her bent over me in the dressing room flashed before my eyes. I pushed the image away from my mind and gestured at our table.

"Come have a seat."

I walked her over to our booth and pulled out a chair. She mouthed thank you to me and sat down. I took my seat and then signaled for service.

"What will you two have?" the girl asked loudly when she stepped over. With long blonde hair and holding a serving tray in her right hand, she was dressed in a tight black skirt and a white blouse open at the front that displayed her big, and obviously fake, tits. I didn't bother looking at the bait, only having eyes for Victoria. Besides, a bimbo like her came a dime a dozen and I could fuck her anytime if I wanted.

“Johnnie Walker Blue,” I said.

"Apple Martini."

"So what made you decide to come?" I asked, making sure to keep my voice loud enough so she could hear me. "I thought I'd really pissed you off back at the Promade."

Victoria brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. "I thought I'd come to give you a chance to apologize."

I hid a grin. "Well, you won't get one. Because I meant what I said."

She scowled at me and shook her head. "I should have known."

"What? I gave you a compliment."

"It was crude," she objected. "And distasteful."

The girl walked over and set down our drinks. She made sure to bend low, putting her tits in my face. I ignored them and tossed her a tip.

Her eyes widened with surprise. "Thanks, handsome."

Victoria rolled her eyes as the waitress blew a seductive kiss my way and strutted away. The bass from the music moved our glasses across the table. In unison, we grabbed our drinks to keep them from toppling over.

"Did you really have to tip her so much?" She was irritated, though she tried to hide it. I found it cute.

"I always tip big wherever I go," I told her. "It's a matter of style."

"She looked like she wanted to sleep with you after."

I nodded. "That's because she did."

Victoria snorted and rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

I couldn’t hold back my grin. "I'm addictive, that's what I am. I'm like a chocolate craving. You're not getting rid of me until you've had your fill."

She rolled her eyes again. “Don't flatter yourself."

I settled back in my chair and took a sip of my drink, keeping my eyes focused on Victoria. "So, tell me, what brings you to the big city to work for the one and only Christine Finnerman?"

Victoria toyed with her drink. "I've always dreamed of working in fashion since I was a little girl. When I was younger, I would make outfits and wear them, pretending I was on the runway. My mom doesn’t much approve. She thinks I’m making a huge mistake for whatever reason."

"That sucks," I remarked. I was surprised she was being open with me about it, but I liked it.

Victoria nodded. "Yeah. But then she goes on to divorce my father to marry some rich douchebag." She made an angry face. "I'm still pissed off at her about that."

"Who did she marry?"

Victoria shrugged and took a sip of her drink. I tried not to look at her lips wrapped around her straw. "Beats me. I no longer talk to her. We had a huge falling out."

“Sounds like me.”

Victoria was intrigued. "How's that?"

For a moment, I debated on whether to tell her the truth. I’m usually not one to open up so easily.

Screw it
, I said to myself.

"My father is a man of voracious appetite. As in, he's never been satisfied being with one woman. He claims he’s done with all of that now, but we’ll see. Anyway, to make a long story short, my mom found out about one of his flings, and she decided to divorce him. Naturally, since we were close, my mother thought I would pressure my dad to hand over his share of the business to her when they split. Instead, I helped my dad buy my mom's cooperation. This infuriated my mother and we grew apart, but I couldn't help it. I'd put too much of myself in the business, and I couldn't see it growing without the both of us. Now . . . I'm having second thoughts about that."

Victoria raised an eyebrow and I proceeded to tell her all about the growing rift between my father and me.

"And the funny thing is," I said when I was finished telling her my story, "he wants me to get my act together when he's been the worst offender of all." I shook my head. "I feel sorry for the woman he married . . . but then again, she probably didn't marry him for his personality."

Victoria stared at me. "What's so bad about it, though? Settling down. I mean, how can it be fun to sleep around all the time?"

Anger twisted my stomach. "I've had a bad relationship in the past that taught me that love is just a made-up notion that’s more trouble than it’s worth."

Damn it. I shouldn't be telling her this.

"I see."

We both stopped speaking and the bass of the music filled in the silence.

"I just don’t see why you would continue doing what you do if you know it effects your company," she said a moment later.

I leaned across the table and looked her straight in the eye. "Because no one tells me what to do."

Victoria stared at me for a long time before saying, "I shouldn't have come."

"Then why did you?"

"I'm not sure. But I wish I hadn't told you anything. You probably have a line of skanks lined up after this."

I shook my head and then downed my drink in one gulp. I let out a satisfied sigh as my throat burned and stood up. I offered my hand to Victoria. "Come, I want to show you something."

She looked at me like I was crazy. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Yeah you are, or you wouldn't have come. Now get up."

A tremble went through her at the authority in my voice and I knew she liked it. Finally, she gave up the act and took my hand, but before she stood up, she asked, "Where are we going?"

I grinned at her and pulled her to her feet. "Some place where you can finish measuring me."

“
I
t’s breathtaking
!” I exclaimed as I stepped inside.

I was in Tyler’s ritzy loft overlooking the city, and I was immediately captivated by what was before me. The right side of the apartment had a wall made out of glass that looked out into the shimmering skyline. You could see for what seemed like forever. The view took my breath away.

I turned about, taking in the rest of the apartment.

It had a spacious floor plan that gave a warm, inviting feeling. The floor was made of polished wood that looked like it’d been freshly mopped. He probably had maids that kept the place spotless. The sofa and lounge seats were all cream-colored and looked lush and comfortable. Near the window, there was a white grand piano.

This,
I said to myself as I took everything in,
is what I want. This is how I want to live. Except I'll never get here working for Christine.

"Is it?" Tyler asked as he walked over to the kitchen's bar and began tinkering with some glasses. "I paid enough for it, so it had better be."

I knew better than to ask how much. I probably didn’t want to know. I walked over to the window and stared out while Tyler busied himself. "I could learn to love this," I whispered, my heart soaring at the incredible view. Tyler's place made my tiny downtown apartment look like a hovel. Now I’d never view it the same again.

"Would you like something to drink?" Tyler asked me.

I half-turned, debating. I was already feeling a little tipsy from my martini and I didn’t want to do something stupid.

"No thanks," I declined. "I'm good."

Tyler peered at me. "You sure?"

"Positive."

He finished making a drink and walked over to me with a glass of clear liquid, his shoes making a hard tapping sound against the floor.

I turned back to the view and shook my head. “This place really is incredible. I’ve set some goals for myself, but I can’t imagine ever being in a place like this. I can barely afford a one-bedroom apartment on the salary Christine pays me."

Tyler reached my side and I could smell the alcohol in his glass. The smell was so strong it made my nostrils burn. I wondered what was in it.

"Why do you work for her?" He stared out the window with me while taking a sip from his glass.

I sighed. "I'm hoping that doors will open for me. There's a lot you can do with Christine Finnerman's name on your resume. If you’re interested in fashion, there’s no better place to start.”

He turned to study me. "Do you really believe it’ll pay off?

I thought for a moment. The fact is, I really didn't know. It's just what I hoped for. "I have to believe that it will."

"Sometimes believing isn't enough. Sometimes you gotta know."

"Well, sometimes you can't know, so believing is all that you can do."

Tyler's gaze became so intense that I could feel my skin crawl. "That's not good enough for me."

I shivered underneath his gaze, but I couldn’t help thinking about all the women he must bring to this place. "Is anything ever good enough for you?"

"You."

My heart skipped a beat and my mouth went dry. Tyler moved in and I hesitantly backed up against the window. The glass slipped from his hand and shattered against the floor, but I hardly noticed it.