Karma Read online

  "Does she know about your little affair?" he questioned, his nose wrinkling.

  "Affair?" I held my hand up. "Whoa, whoa. We aren't having an affair. It was only once. Plus, Eva doesn't give a shit what I do. I'm allowed free rein until we tie the depressing knot that's going to strangle the life out of me.”

  "Great. Now quit commingling with dad's employees before you get your ass fired and have no one to marry."

  "We aren't commingling. It was a while back, and I'll repeat, it was only once. No need to get your panties in a bunch, brother." He stayed silent. "New Year's party," I elaborated. He always had to know every single fucking detail.

  That night had been hell for me. I’d gotten into an argument with my dad because I chose not to go to the Hamptons with Eva and her family. We yelled, threw some shit and doors got slammed. I ended up emptying an entire flask of whiskey and then some before I trudged my drunken ass back up to my bedroom and away from the ridiculous, over-the-top party they were throwing. Those parties got old pretty fucking quickly. All my parents cared about was making themselves look good and showing us off to be the perfect family. Perfect, my ass; the only family member I even talked to on a normal basis was Leo.

  I’d been undressing, ready to pass out when I heard the soft knock on my door. The next thing I knew, Gabby was standing in front of me and our mouths were meeting. At first, I was sure I was hallucinating; there was no way she’d come to my room. She could barely hold a conversation with me. Any time I’d tried to talk to her, she’d always shy away from me. The moment her lips hit mine, I’d forgotten all about my bullshit argument with my dad.

  When I’d woken the next morning, desperate for another round, I noticed she was gone. Then I’d convinced myself it was a dream until I found the empty condom wrapper on my floor. I wasn’t drunk enough that I’d fucked myself. She ditched my ass, and it pissed me off. But not pissed enough to overplay in my mind how she begged me to take her. I couldn’t forget how sweet her whimpers sounded underneath me as I pounded into her tight core.

  "And it just keeps getting better," he fired back. "Please tell me she was eighteen, or you're going to be hiring dad to clear your name." Fuck, he was right. I'd never asked Gabby how old she was. In my defense, I never had the chance to ask her anything.

  "She was a senior," I replied, the words slowly dripping out of my mouth, and he shook his head my way. "She's not going to say anything," I quickly assured. "She's made that very clear." I made myself a mental note to look up her application in the morning and check her age.

  He cupped his hand on my shoulder. "Baby brother, chicks always say that shit until they want money or attention. You know that. Then when you don't give it to them, they turn on you."

  "She doesn't need money, considering our uncle is just as wealthy as our dad. Plus, she hates me, and I think she's actually ashamed she had sex with me."

  He chuckled. "I think I actually like the girl." Then his eyes deadpanned on me. "But stay the fuck away from her."

  I pointed at him, my body beginning to sway in my stool. "I'm sorry, did you forget the part where I told you Dad partnered us up?"

  "Easy fix. Tell Dad you want to work with someone else or by yourself."

  I snorted. "That's not obvious I got into her panties or anything."

  "Fine, smartass, just keep it professional and keep your goddamn dick in your pants."

  I held up my glass in a cheers motion. "I got it, I got it." I took another gulp, even though I definitely didn't need it. "How are Kelly and the kids?"

  My brother smiled at the mention of his family. Well, at the mention of his kids. Kids weren’t usually my thing, but my niece and nephew were exceptions; I loved those little shits.

  "Claire and Oliver are great, but Kelly is fucking miserable, as usual. She's gone on another one of those relaxation therapy trips, so I've been taking care of the kids, trying to find a new nanny and working sixty hours a week. I guess spending her days shopping and drinking martinis at the country club with her girlfriends is entirely too stressful for her." That explained why he looked so damn drained and why arranged marriages were nothing but a giant pain in the ass.

  "A new nanny? What happened to that sexy-as-fuck Swedish one?" Kelly usually hired old, frumpy ladies to nanny, but the last one was actually a hot little blonde. Unfortunately for me, Kelly had warned her that if she talked to me, she'd be fired. So every time I would walk into the same room as her, she'd run away like I had some deadly contagious disease or some shit. I actually wouldn't have been surprised if Kelly told her I did. That woman was fucking vicious, and she hated me because I was a man whore in her eyes.

  "She got fired. Kelly caught me laughing with her." Typical fucking Kelly. That chick was born with jealousy in her veins. If my parents needed to despise any wife in our family, it needed to be her, not Gabby’s mom. Kelly was pure, untainted evil.

  I cocked my head to the side. "Did you?" I asked. I liked being on the other side of the questioning block; it was more fun.

  "Fuck no. That poor girl was only telling me something Claire did at the park that was funny. I laughed and Kelly went all fucking Kelly." I believed my brother. I knew he was unhappy, but he wasn't the type to go and cheat and ruin his family. He knew what he was getting into when he got married, and he would respect his vows.

  "You need to get a divorce, bro," I said, repeating the same words I'd been telling him for years. I felt bad for my brother. He was a good guy, and he deserved happiness more than anyone in our family.

  "You must really be drunk," he replied, dragging the glass from my hand. "Just be happy Mom and Dad set you up with someone who can't be mistaken for Satan."

  "Yeah," I mumbled, snatching my glass back out of his hand and chugging the rest of its contents. I was supposed to be preparing for my first career-launching meeting tomorrow. Instead, I was at the bar, getting hammered and attempting to drink Gabby away from my thoughts.

  My heart galloped as I nervously waited in the lobby for Dalton. "You ready for this?" he asked, emerging from a room and strolling into the lobby. I gulped, my eyes blazing into him. He was wearing another fitted, black suit complete with a silver tie. A diamond watch was cuffed around his wrist that matched the cuff links on his sleeves. A large, black notebook was gripped in one hand as he looked over at me. His face was clean-shaven, showing off the perfect definition of his high cheekbones. He looked delicious, and I was instantly reminded of why I couldn’t stay away from him that night at the party.

  Some girls were attracted to guys in tight jeans and cowboy hats. Others might be into bad boys with tattoos who always had a guitar swung around their shoulders. Those guys were hot and all, but there was nothing sexier than a well-dressed man in a suit screaming they were in charge. Power hungry. That was one of the worst traits I inherited from my mom: our bad taste in men. We were attracted to men we weren’t supposed to be attracted to. We craved what we couldn’t have.

  I bit down on my lip and snapped my eyes away when he noticed my obvious staring. “Not really,” I mumbled. I’d slept like shit the night before. I wasn’t sure if it was nerves from working with Dalton or being around Wilson again. It was probably both.

  He laughed, his mouth opening and giving me a glimpse of his straight, white smile. “Yeah, didn’t think so. It won’t be so bad, I promise,” he said, giving me a wink before twisting around on one foot and heading toward a set of double doors. I followed behind him, hot on his trail when he gripped the doorknob and pushed the door open.

  We entered a large boardroom like ones I’d seen in movies. A blank projection screen was centered in the middle of the room and positioned in front of a large, black table. Black chairs surrounded the table, and my eyes immediately landed on Wilson. He was planted in the chair at the head of the table, having what looked like a serious conversation with a man sitting directly to his right. I stayed behind Dalton, hiding my body behind him and peeking over at the two men.

  Dalton cleare
d his throat, and their attention came our way. “These are two of our interns,” Wilson immediately said, motioning toward us. “Dalton and Gabrielle.” Yeah, he really needed to quit calling me by my full name; the joke was getting old.

  The man grimaced. “Interns?” he asked, his attention on Wilson. “I told you I had to keep this situation under wraps. I can’t have inexperienced interns working my case and have the possibility of them leaking information.”

  I squinted in the direction of the man. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t figure it out. His dark hair was cut short and peppered with shades of grey. A few wrinkles surrounded his eyes and lips as he scowled over at Wilson. His black suit matched the other two assholes in penguin suits in the room. His eyes shot to us. “No offense to you two,” he said, tossing his arms out. “I’m sure you are extremely hard workers, but I need something more than an intern can give me.”

  “I can assure you that won’t happen,” Wilson attested.

  “And how are you going to guarantee that?” he asked, twisting the large watch around his wrist.

  Wilson pointed at Dalton. “This is my son and the future owner of this company.” His finger slid over to me. “This is Kenneth’s stepdaughter. I chose them specifically for those reasons. Nothing will be leaked; you have my word.”

  The man scratched his pale cheek, his green eyes boring into us. “Stepdaughter, huh?” he asked, his eyes moving only to me. “She looks a bit young. How old are you?”

  I shifted around, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Eighteen," I said, surprisingly sounding more confident than I felt.

  I wrapped my arms around my chest at the same time Dalton clapped his hands together. "Let's get started, shall we?" he blurted out, pressing his hands to my side and squeezing it gently. He stepped forward, dragging a chair out for me before taking the one between Wilson and me. He tossed his notebook down onto the table, grabbed a pen from his pocket and clicked it open. "What can I help you with, Governor Gentry?" he asked, looking up at the man, and my mouth flew open in recognition.

  That's why he looked so familiar. I'd seen him on TV plenty of times because he was the governor of Georgia, and word was he was gearing up for the future presidential election.

  "Call me John," he insisted. "There's this woman, she's attempting to blackmail me. She's demanding I give her ten million dollars, or she's going to expose me." Expose him? I looked around at the other people in the room, none of them looking near as confused as I felt.

  Dalton nodded. "Expose you for what?" he asked, while I was still attempting to process what in the hell they were talking about.

  “We had an affair,” he answered, his voice so low I barely caught the words. “And she has plenty of evidence to prove it; texts, emails and I’m not exactly sure what else.” My gaze moved from John to Dalton, but he didn't even flinch at John’s confession.

  "And when did this affair take place?" he asked, scratching notes across the paper as he waited for John to answer. John fiddled with the watch again, failing to look at anyone and losing all the arrogance that had surrounded him when we'd walked in. Not so big-shot now, huh, Mr. Governor?

  Dalton set his pen down on the table, put his arms down and leaned in. "I'm going to need you to be one-hundred-percent honest with me during this process if you want our assistance with this. I need the truth so I can help you fix this."

  John inhaled a deep breath and blew out slowly before nodding in confirmation. My lips curled in disgust, and I knew who wasn't getting my vote in the next election.

  "Thank you," Dalton said. "Now, have you attempted to negotiate with this woman?"

  "I have, but she's not budging," he answered, his shoulders slumping. "She's angry at me because I won't leave my wife. I can't do that! Do you understand what that would cost me? It would ruin everything I've worked my ass off for." He dragged his bony fingers through his hair in frustration and groaned. I bit my tongue, fighting back the urge to tell him if he didn't want to ruin everything, he should've kept his dick in his pants.

  "And how do you know this woman?”

  "She was an intern on my campaign.” He paused for a second and then held his finger up like he’d just come up with a brilliant plan. “Maybe we can blame the messages on that?" Yeah, I was sure those messages were real campaign-related and not talking about finding a secret place to bang each other.

  Dalton shut his notebook. "I doubt it. I'm going to need any information you have on her. Dirt, blackmail, her personal information, anything you've got. We'll get a tech guy on it immediately. For now, you need to stay away from her. Avoid all communication: don't call her, don't meet up with her, don't do anything but stay away." Revulsion brewed into my stomach as I took in what was happening in front of me. He was paying us to hide his affair like a coward.

  "Thank you," John said, stroking the back of his neck. "You've got to fix this. Ruin the girl. I don't care. Do whatever you've got to do. Just don't let her talk, please."

  I swallowed the hot lump in my throat, unable to hold back the words fighting to be released from the tip of my tongue. "So, you want us to cover up you banging an intern who worked for you?" I asked in disbelief. I noticed Wilson tense up from the corner of my eye like he was waiting for me to say something stupid, and I didn't blame him. Sometimes words blurted out of my mouth before I had the chance to filter them through my brain. I needed some clarification on what exactly my job was. Was this the kind of PR they did around here? Protect assholes from dealing with the consequences of sticking their cocks into women who weren't their wives?

  "Gabrielle," Wilson cautioned, his eyes wide as saucers as John's mouth flung open in shock. I was sure he wasn't used to people calling him out on his bullshit.

  "What?" I asked, raising a brow. "I'm just curious." My eyes deadpanned on a nervous John. "If you cheated on your wife, don't you think you should man up and take responsibility for your actions?"

  John stared at me, speechless, his mouth still hanging open. Wilson smacked a stunned Dalton’s arm and motioned toward the doors we'd entered from. Dalton jumped up and pulled my arm to get me out of my chair. "I forgot we have some briefs to go over," he rushed out, his hand latching onto mine as he dragged me out of the room and down the hallway until we landed in an unfamiliar office.

  I pulled my arm out of his grip, and he slammed the door shut. "Are you fucking crazy?" he hissed, his pupils dilating. "Do you want to get fired?"

  I bit back a laugh and threw my hands up in the air. "Is this the kind of publicity you guys do around here? Cover up for philandering assholes?" I took a few steps backward and held my palms up his way. "I want absolutely no part in it." Obviously, I wasn't cut out for this job. I actually had morals; not a lot, but some.

  He tilted his hand back, looking up at the ceiling and taking a deep breath before leveling his eyes back on me. "We're a crisis PR company, Gabby. We make sure our clients' reputations stay intact and polished. Whether they're having an affair, breaking the law or whatever else could possibly damage their public image, we fix it."

  I crossed my arms across my chest. "Okay, that's just sad."

  "We do good things, too. We organize charities and shit like that. We don't only work for the bad guys." I scoffed. "I'm being serious. This is our first case, and we can't mess this up."

  "How about you stick me somewhere they do charities and shit then, because I want no part in covering up for that slime ball.”

  "Just great," he muttered, flopping down into a leather chair behind the desk. "Just fucking great."

  The door swung open, and we both averted our attention to the doorway. A deranged Wilson charged into the room, his face crimson with fury, and stalked my way.

  Well, shit.

  Dalton jumped from his chair and headed our way. "I knew it was a fucking bad idea allowing you to work here," Wilson sneered. I dodged the spit flying out of his mouth while he got closer into my face.

  I gulped, and Dalton edged himse
lf in between the two of us. "Dad," he cried out, facing him and pressing his hands into his chest to push him away from me. I always knew Wilson was a raging dickhead, but this was seriously out of line.

  Wilson came to his senses and took a step back before thrusting a finger out at me. "Listen here, girl. If you want to continue your employment here, and trust me, I'm only doing this because of my brother, you better shape the fuck up. This company exists because we PLEASE OUR CLIENTS! NOT INSULT THEM! Do I make myself clear?"

  I threw him a hateful smile. "Crystal." I wouldn't let him see me cower at his presence; I knew that's what he wanted, and it wasn't happening.

  "Get her ass straight," he snarled, his finger swinging over to Dalton. "Here's his file. I want you to get this shit fixed." He tossed a manila folder onto the desk and stormed out of the room.

  I slumped down into the nearest chair. "How do I put in my two-weeks’ notice?"

  Dalton fell down into the chair beside me. "You're not putting in your two weeks."

  I shook my head. "This is a temporary job for me. You think I want to fix other people's problems for the rest of my life? Definitely not; I have a hard enough time trying to handle my own."

  "Are you going to school?"

  My eyes flew up in his direction. "What?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. I didn't see how that had anything to do with me quitting this damn hellhole.

  "Are you going to school?" he asked again.

  "I'm taking a year off." I didn’t even want to go to college, but my mom insisted it was something I need to do. I knew the real reason was because she’d never had the chance to do it herself. She’d gotten pregnant with me right before graduating high school and had to work two jobs to support us, since my dad apparently fell of the face of the planet. College was never in the cards for her, but it was for me. The problem was I had no idea what I wanted to do, and going to school before then seemed pointless and a waste of money to me.