Page 3 of A Smooth Operator

She pulled away from me. "That's a vile and disgustin' thing to say, Remi Drake. Your father gave this to me cause he'd received it from his mentor when he finished his PhD. It was a gift." As she spoke, she removed the watch and handed it to me. "Here, you can give it back to him. No gift is worth this humiliation."

I had no choice but to grab the watch to prevent it from falling onto the asphalt. Before I could get my act together and pull my foot out of my mouth, she was in her car and, in less than a minute, was driving away in her quiet electric BMW.

How on earth could she afford that car? Did my father buy that for her, too? Damn it! I had to stop this nonsense. I knew better. Dad admired Echo and thought of her as a daughter. Right?

Feeling unsure as hell, I looked at the Rolex watch in my hand with disgust. I couldn't face my father; hell, no. If I were wrong, it would break his heart; if I were right, it would break mine. She'd left me in a no-win situation. The bitch.

God! I disliked Echo Devlin. I disliked her prissy attitude, her big brown eyes that looked at me with undisguised devotion—well, not a minute ago, then there was something akin to loathing in them for me.

I'd get to the bottom of this one way or the other, I decided.

Chapter 2

Echo

Apart of me wanted to walk up to Dallas Drake and tell him to take his job and shove it up his son's ass.

Full disclosure: this was all inner dialogue. The truth was that I didn't talk much, and when I did, I was polite. I didn't swear. I didn't make a fuss. I didn't make a scene. I went along to get along. Yeah, a spine of steel is what I had! Not.

Dallas had always been kind to me and believed in me. It wasn't his fault that his kids were assholes, as was his wife. Sierra Drake never liked me and constantly told me I wasn't good enough to be around her children.

However, my aunt worked on their family estate and lived in a small house that had been converted from slave quarters to servant quarters. After my mother died, I moved in with Aunt Fern, and since her husband thought I was special, Sierra tolerated my presence. Unfortunately, my aunt was no better. She was stuck up, always telling me how I should behave, constantly reminding me that I came from trash; her sister, the crack whore.

Aunt Fern was a special kind of mean. She made my childhood miserable. As soon as I turned eighteen, I was out of her life and her home.

I made that happen by studying hard and earning scholarships for university.

It had helped that I went to a good school, and the only reason I'd been able to do that was because of where my aunt lived. Lani was my age, and we became friends of sorts. I had no illusions about how Lani treated me or what she thought of me—a mix of someone to boss around and a parasite. But her family had been good to me, and I felt indebted to the Drakes. I paid my dues by accepting their treatment. I also knew Lani better than anyone else and kept hoping that the good person she used to be as a kid would one day reemerge.

The truth was that my life was intertwined with the Drakes in so many ways.

Dallas was kind. He encouraged me to go after my dreams. He didn't see me as the half-black kid who didn't know who her father was or whose mother had died of an overdose; he saw me.

We both were interested in genetics and how to use gene therapy to cure cancer. So, when I got my PhD from the University of Tennessee, he invited me to work in a cancer lab in his company for my post-doctoral research. Since I already had several peer-reviewed and published papers to my credit, I was widely respected in the lab even though I was one of the youngest team members. I was paid well, and thanks to that, I'd bought my first home—a small cottage in midtown and a brand-new car. After driving rust buckets that I could barely afford, being able to purchase something I loved to drive was a reward, and how I showed myself that I'd made my life better.

But no matter what I did, the Drakes still saw me as a hanger-on; case and point was my missing watch. I wrapped my hand around my empty wrist and gently massaged it as I walked into the lab the Monday after Remi had been an ass to me.

He'd texted and called me over the weekend. I'd deleted every message and voicemail without reading or listening. Finally, I just blocked him.

How dare he?

Dallas had honored me by giving me his watch and—one he received from his mentor. Remi had reduced it to…God, I couldn't even repeat what he'd said in my head.

How could he think something so vile? How could he accuse me of having sex with a man I thought of as a surrogate father? A man I wished was my father. If Dallas knew what Remi said to me, he'd be hurt and enraged. I didn't want to cause problems between them.

I vowed to steer clear of Lani and her crowd. In school, I didn't have a choice. My aunt worked for the Drakes, and Dallas urged Lani to take me under her wing. I wish he hadn't bothered. Until the last two years of high school, Lani had been nice and kind, but then she started hanging out with Marina Sims, and everything changed. She became a mean girl. I knew they called me the DUFF, and even now, that high school stigma stayed with me. My high school classmates still called me Poopy Pants—a name Marina gave me because I used to eat energy bars high in fiber. I ate those because I couldn't afford proper food. It was a way to avoid fast food, which made me overweight, but it was all I could afford since Aunt Fern wasn't parting with her money for me.

Once I left high school, it got better. I had a full scholarship at Vanderbilt with a meal plan. I also had access to a gym. I started to take care of myself. Granted, I was never going to be beautiful like Marina and Lani and those other girls, but I thought I was presentable. I was now a size eight instead of a fourteen. Big achievement for me!

I dressed well and with comfort in mind. I was never going to wear a mini dress that I would need to squeeze myself into. Besides the fact that I'd look like a stuffed sausage, it would be uncomfortable.

The sad thing was that despite being a successful scientist at a top biotech company when I hung out with Lani and her group, I felt like a failure, like the loser teenager I used to be.

I needed to get my life in order, and that meant avoiding Lani and her lame-assed friends. More importantly, I needed to get over my crush on Remi because, let's face it, I accepted Lani's invitations for a chance to see him.

God, I was so pathetic!

Remi was the quintessential playboy—always had been. But the worst blow had been when he started dating Marina a few months ago. He was dating my tormentor. Now, to get a glimpse of him, I had to see her as well. And adding insult to injury was Remi accusing me of having sex with his father. Could my life get any sadder?

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