Page 60 of Worth Every Moment
Fuck.
A numbness works its way up my legs.I need to fucking sit down.“Is there any trace of it?”
“Excuse me?”
I lean against the desk, both palms flat on it, head hanging down between my shoulders. I lift one hand and tug on my tie, yanking it loose. “The money. Surely it leaves a trace. A path. A fucking exit route from my account.”
“No, sir. None of that. This is… inexplicable. It appears to have…”
“To have what?” I snap.
“Vanished, sir.”
I cover my face with my hands, press my fingertips into my eye sockets, and let out a rumbling groan.
“Sir? Is everything— ”
I fucking knew it.I hang up before he can say anything else. My heart hammers. This is seriously fucked, and I know exactly who’s to blame. And I know I will never,ever, see that money again.
A knock on the door followed by my brother’s voice calling my name has me rushing to compose myself. If he finds me like this, he’s going to think I’m fucking messy.Useless. Especially after I didn’t show up to work this morning, which is a first. Actually, a second, given I skipped work to spend the afternoon with Erica.She’s leading me astray...
“Yeah. Come in,” I say as I sit behind my desk, trying to steady my breathing.It’s only money. It’s okay.
It’s not only money. It’s Dad’s first move on the fucking chessboard.
Nico enters, striding right up to me and dropping a brand new iPhone in its box on my desk. He stares at me for a second, and I wonder what he knows. “How was Dad when you had lunch?” he asks, and I breathe a sigh of relief. If he’s asking about Dad, then he’s not going to lay into me about playing truant earlier.
“He’s okay. Same old prick, really. Seems to be recovering well.”
A not-insignificant part of me wants to tell Nico everything. That Dad is gonna fuck me over. Drain my accounts if I don’t do what he wants. That I have to marry some young woman I hardly know right when Erica has finally agreed to date me.
Fake date me.
Whatever. It’s close enough. I don’t want to ruin it by having to get married to someone else.
But I can’t tell him. The idea of sharing this with Nico, letting them see that, yet again, Dad is playing me in a way he’d never do to him or Matt… using me for his own gain… the shame of it is too much. I can’t tell anyone. This is between me and Dad, and I will fucking sort it out myself if it kills me.
Nico nods, sliding his hands into his pockets, but still eyeing me with suspicion. “What were you doing in east London earlier? At the Wakefield studio?”
I rest my elbow on the desk and drop my forehead to my hand. I could lie to him. Or I could tell him the truth. “Who told you?”
“Your PA told me after you called and asked her to cancel all your cards.”
I heave a sigh. “I really need to talk to her about keeping my shit confidential.” Nico’s harsh gaze doesn’t leave my face, and I know he’s waiting for more of an explanation, so I offer it up. “I was doing Erica a favour. She had a fight with her mum last week and she’s been upset. So—”
“So you got half naked and let her paint you?” He says it with such disdain—as if I must be a class-A moron to have participated in such frivolity—that I want to punch him. He flashes his phone at me, and sure enough, there’s the picture of me and Erica. I know Erica said it wasn’t porn, but it’s definitely sensual. Suggestive. Fuck it, she looks like a goddess climaxing on my lap.
Maybe Nico has a point.
“This is not a good look for business,” he says. “And she’s named you. ‘My boyfriend, Seb Hawkston, agreed to pose with me. Isn’t he gorgeous? I couldn’t think of anyone better to launch my new fragrance—Infinity—with than him’.”
A noise in the doorway draws both our attention, and I glance up to find Matt standing there, phone in hand. My stomach drops.
“When did you get tattoos?” he asks.
Resting my elbow on my desk, I drop my forehead into my hand. “Do you have nothing better to do than stalk me on social media?”
“The receptionists are all out there gossiping about it,” Matt says, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder. He approachesmy desk, looming over me before dropping into a chair opposite. “What’s the deal with Lefroy?”
