The Billionaire and I (Part Two) (2 page)

The lobby was quiet, the only sound the soft croon of the easy listening music that floated across the room. Bernie, one of the night security guards that almost always caught me on those evenings when my nose was to the grindstone, was perched behind the desk. He popped out of his seat when he saw us, touching the rim of his ball cap.

“Good evening, folks,” he dipped his head in acknowledgement.

The smile I had ready to go stalled before it reached my lips. Bernie didn’t dip his head in acknowledgement. Bernie was a hugger. And he always had a smile or joke to share before I could even whip out a smile of my own.

His eyes weren’t twinkling with kindness. There was a hollowness there now. Pity when his shadowed gaze met mine, condemnation when he met Jacob’s.

I followed Jacob to the bank of elevators, robotically pushing the button before I peered over at him. He didn’t say a word or move a muscle, but I knew he saw it too.

When the doors clicked shut and we began the climb, I turned to Jacob. “Are you sure I’m the best person to bring in on this? Considering-”

“I hired you to be my sex slave?”

He’d meant it as a joke, but it fell flat. What we were facing...there wasn’t an iota of humor in it.

“You hired me to be your assistant, and we both know what the addendum was.” I kept the urge to sharpen every word in check. I knew that Jacob grasped the gravity of this situation. I just couldn’t let him think that I ever saw our relationship that way. “You chose me, Jacob. And I chose you. There are no sex slaves standing in this elevator.”

He squared his jaw and his expression shifted from shock to anger to love to...something else entirely. In less than a heartbeat he had me pinned against the wall.

I hitched a breath as I looked up at him. There were no if's, and's, or but's about what would happen next. It wasn't up to me. Yet I knew from the way his eyes settled on my lips that he couldn't resist.

"Jacob," I sighed, lifting my arms to encircle his neck. They only got halfway before he gripped my wrists and snapped my arms up and over my head.

A smile dashed across my face. I knew this position; wrists bound together, locked into the suspension system. The hotness factor was dialed up a few notches because we were in public.

His gaze held me in place and his lips did the rest. Our mouths plundered. Gasping. Craving. Needing. Forgetting.

The elevator door dinged and he took the tiniest step back, sweeping his finger across his lips. "You're an incredible woman, Leila Whitmore."

We strode down the hallway toward the conference room, neither one of us in our usual business attire. Jacob threw on a sports coat over his t-shirt and slipped into a pair of Chucks. I pulled on an oversized knit sweater, leggings, and flats. We walked in time, our mission clear. We needed to get ahead of the story before it spun out of control.

I breezed into the conference room first, taking in the team that Jacob had requested. Jessa was sitting in a chair that was detached from the rest of the table, the only one dressed in business casual. She wore a white blouse with black tuxedo pants and heels. Her blonde hair hung in a single plait over her shoulder and she toyed with it until she saw me and leapt to her feet.

Missy was at the table, her dark hair pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head. She was dressed in a plaid button down dress and a black, cropped leather jacket. Her hyperactive expression told me she was highly caffeinated and ready to get to work.

Claudia gave me a supportive grin from the opposite side of the table. She wore a Ralph Lauren polo and khakis, her newly blonde hair held back by horn rimmed glasses perched at the crown of her head.

Jacob stood beside me, his booming voice ending the awkward silence. "Thank you all for coming in on such short notice." He glanced at Jessa, who was currently looking back and forth between the both of us, wondering which one would shoot the messenger.

"You're part of the team too," I said gently, beckoning for her to join us at the table. "Your call bought us precious time to strategize and figure out where we're at."

She blushed a deep crimson and shuffled to the table, pulling out her seat as quietly as possible and sinking into the leather cushion with a nervous smile. "I really appreciate you saying that, Mrs. Whitmore. My TV never leaves E! news and when I heard Ms. Laraby spewing all those lies about-" She bit her lip and stole a look in Jacob's direction. "I knew that it was huge. And not true," she added quickly.

I swallowed. A perversion of the truth. Just enough of the truth to ruin Jacob's career and handicap my own if Rachel got her paws on the contract.

I focused on the task at hand. "Whether it's true or not true is irrelevant." Jessa looked shocked that I wasn't vehemently denying it. Missy was stony faced and silent. Claudia had cleared her face of all emotion and judgement. In our line of work, we'd definitely seen worst than a client being accused of having a kink or two in the bedroom.

I felt Jacob beside me and panic hit me like a hail of bullets. He wasn't just any client. He was my husband. He was my everything—and Rachel came at him, at us, at Whitmore and Creighton, guns blazing. What if we couldn't fix this? What if it cost us everything?

Jacob's hand found mine and he pulled me from those thoughts when he brought it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. His love was so much more than anything I'd ever imagined. The slightest touch and I felt like I was ten feet tall. I felt like I could face anything with him by my side. Scandal or no, Rachel would never tarnish our love.

He released me and took a seat. I noticed that he opted for one beside Jessa instead of his usual place at the head of the table.

All eyes focused on me. I was the new client manager, and Jacob Whitmore was our latest client.

It was time to get to work.

I cleared my throat and pivoted to the white board. My fingers trembled, turning the task of removing the cap from the dry erase marker into a minutes long process instead of a seconds long one. When I pressed the tip to the white board, my lines were clean and sure.

I started a timeline, beginning with the meeting that went to hell. "I want us to get a full picture of what transpired today so we can figure out an effective plan of attack." I spit out her name. "Rachel had her preliminary meeting this morning. Suffice to say, things did not go well." I cleared my throat when my eyes shot to Jacob. We hadn't even had a chance to talk about the meeting yet. Guilt simmered beneath the surface, but I kept it contained. "I expressed my opinion that Rachel wasn't taking this opportunity seriously. That she'd lost the public's trust. She responded by yelling and storming out of here."

Jacob's lips were pressed in a line. My white knight, ready to storm the castle and defend my honor.

I smiled on the inside as I turned back to the board. "That's where Rachel fell off the grid." I circled the blank space and drew an arrow. "Then, sometime this evening, she went on
Chat with Cat
and told the world that she and Jacob dated, but parted ways because he demanded that she become his sex slave." The wave of nausea returned and I went to the bar in the corner and pulled out a can of ginger ale. The hiss of me popping the top was lost amid laptops being pulled out and papers being flipped. I took a long, sobering gulp and made my way back to the front. "I need to fill in what happened this afternoon. Where did she go after she left Whitmore and Creighton? Who did she talk to? How did she get on
Chat with Cat
?" I left the bullet points and turned back to the table.

Jessa was holding her phone and awkwardly shot her hand up in the air. I nodded.

She dropped her hand, biting her lip. "I follow Rachel and her assistant Starla on social media. On the cab ride over, I went through their Instagram and Twitter. All was pretty quiet on Starla's leading up to the interview at 8PM." She held out her phone, but Claudia passed her a laptop instead. Jessa's fingers flew across the keys as she logged in. She scooted over to the multimedia station and plugged the laptop in so we could all see the screen via the projector.

I hadn't had the pleasure of meeting Starla Jones but if her profile pic of her flipping the bird and the username ‘yolo_biatch_1985’ was any indication, I had a feeling we weren't going to be besties. Her feed was filled with memes, selfies, shots of ridiculously expensive bar tabs, and a flurry of philosophical quotes that would make a fortune cookie wince. Jessa clicked on her second to last tweet.

*eyeballs emoji* keep ur eyes on E! @ 8 folks. #shitisgettinreal

"And then she tweeted a link to a clip of the interview." Jessa slumped in her seat a little, like she was too embarrassed to share what came next, even though the text was loud and clear on the screen.

What is it about billionaires and BDSM? #jacobisacreep #ouch

The wife in me wanted to defend my husband. Even though no one in the room seemed to believe or care about the accusations lobbied against Jacob, there was still a part of me that wanted to rush to his side and tell them to look at him, then tell me if they saw a man that was a creep. But in PR, the truth wasn't nearly as important as appearances and what the public believed. Right now, the only version of the truth out there was the version that Rachel was telling.

Jessa quickly changed the tab to Rachel's feed. It was similarly as annoying as her assistant's, which made me wonder if Starla handled her accounts. Her last tweet squashed that theory because only Rachel could be that dramatic.

Finally, I'm free. Finally, the truth is out there. <3 hurts. #shouldnthurtliterally

I glared at the screen with such ferocity that I was surprised I didn't set it on fire. "Where are we with who she talked to at
Chat with Cat
?"

Missy's nails tapped across her keyboard. "She's Facebook friends with Luke Wellsworth. He's one of the producers on the show."

"And I just saw that he liked their preview tweets before the interview." Claudia frowned in a way that told me she knew Luke, and he was going to get an earful. "I got that kid that job, and he sandbags us like this? No loyalty."

Jacob and I exchanged a look and I saw the amused glimmer in his eyes. There was an edge in Claudia's voice that reminded me of a mob boss giving one final speech to a crony that betrayed the family. If Luke Wellsworth slept with the fishes, I wouldn't cry a single tear.

I inhaled and exhaled and turned back to the board. "So we can bet that Starla and Luke both knew about the impromptu expose." I drew an arrow and wrote 'Chat with Cat' in bold, bloody letters. I clenched my teeth. "Sex slaves, BDSM, and unrequited love. I don't think we need to rehash the interview." I zipped to the now, ticking off my ideas as far as damage control. "I think it's a good idea for Jacob and I both to address the interview on our Twitter, Instagram, etcetera. Not anything reactive or confrontational. That we're united and a team and in love."

"You don't think that's a little cliche?" Missy zeroed her dark brown eyes on me. It would have been easy to assume she was being argumentative with our history, but I saw nothing but professionalism reflected back at me. "It just seems like something a cheating politician and his devoted wife would do."

"Well, saying nothing at all sends a message too," Claudia countered. "Silence allows Rachel to be the only one that's heard. I think some sort of message is a good idea."

"What about a funny post?"

We all whipped our heads towards Jessa. She fidgeted, tugging at the collar of her blouse. "Something like Leila holding a pair of handcuffs or Jacob reading a copy of that book?"

I stroked my chin, pondering that idea. It was clever, but definitely not without its risks. "The joke could fall flat. And I don't want to make light of people who are engaged in that lifestyle." My stomach twisted.
People like me and Jacob
. Jessa was looking like she was about to go home with a participation trophy so I quickly added, "It's a great idea, Jessa. Very fresh." I wrote it on the board, along with a few ideas from Missy and Claudia.

I capped the marker and walked to the table, dropping into my seat and looking at everyone, ending with Jacob. "Jacob and I spoke with Rachel a little bit ago. We wanted to gauge where her head was at. She seems to feel justified in the route she's taken. She even made a joke about it helping with her upcoming movie, because people will purchase tickets because they pity her. Personally, I think that before we attempt to do some sort of rebuttal or interviews with Jacob telling his side of the story, we need to figure out Rachel's. There's something that she wants, and I don't think that something is to be known as the actress who broke up with Jacob Whitmore because he wanted her to be his sex slave." My next words tasted like poison, but they needed to be said. "And we can't forget—she's still our client as well."

That drew an eyebrow from everyone around the table, including Jacob.

"We could do what she's doing; go negative. Dredge up every character flaw, speeding ticket, thank you card that wasn't sent out, every time she stepped out of the line. I don't think it benefits anyone. It won't change the story. It just perpetuates the game she's playing." I closed my folder. "Tomorrow morning, I'm going to see her and find out what she needs to feel whole. See if we can recover from this thing before any permanent damage is done to Jacob or Rachel. Then we can revisit this list and figure out what comes next."

Jessa, Missy, and Claudia all packed up. No one said anything, but I knew they were thinking that said they didn't envy what I had to do in the morning. When we were alone, Jacob pushed away from the table. He peeled off his jacket and draped it on the back of his chair.

"Making yourself at home?" I asked, trying to inject some humor in my voice but it just came out exhausted.

"Home is on the agenda, but I can't wait that long to have you."

T
he room was still. The only sound that remained was the whisper of the AC, the steady hum of the projector, and my heart beating like crazy. Crazy-that he was standing there, looking at me like he was moments from tearing my clothes off when I was pretty sure Jessa, Claudia, and Missy hadn’t even boarded the elevator.