Million Dollar Devil (Million Dollar #1)(81)

I deserve this.

“Hey!” someone calls to me. “Aren’t you James Rowan?”

I shrug. James. Jimmy. I have no fucking clue who I am these days.

When I don’t answer, they leave me alone.

I turn my back on my billboard and dial Charlie. When he answers, sounding sleepy, I realize it’s past his bedtime. “Hey, it’s me,” I say.

“Jimmy? What time is it?”

“Doesn’t matter. I wanted to tell you I’ll be home tomorrow morning. Okay?”

“You will?” I can sense the excitement in his voice. “What about—”

“Forget all that. I’m coming home to you because you’re the most important thing to me, now and always.” As I walk, someone bumps me, but I don’t care. I’m feeling stronger already. “Okay?”

“Yeah, Jimmy. Hey, Jimmy?”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t tell you ’cause I was mad at you. But Lizzy came over. Last week.”

She did? No wonder she thought I was blowing her off. “That’s okay, tiger.”

“And Jimmy? I haven’t finished packing.”

“Forget the packing. What if we go out this weekend and shoot some videos?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Check the email and see if there are any good dares you think I should do. Okay?”

I can just imagine him doing a fist pump. “All right!”

“Sleep tight. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“See ya, Jimmy.”

Who am I? James? Jimmy?

When I hang up, I already know the answer.





DAY OF RECKONING

Lizzy

Monday morning, I’m waiting for the elevator, thinking I might puke.

Again.

I spent the entire night after the launch in my hotel room, hunched over the toilet, retching long strings of tequila-tasting spit and bile into the bowl. In the morning, when I woke up, my diaphragm hurt, and I couldn’t get out of bed even to check my phone. On Sunday, when I finally started feeling better, I checked my phone and saw a text from my dad.

COME HOME ON THE NEXT FLIGHT.

Just like that, all caps.

And I immediately started feeling worse.

It had gradually begun to dawn on me what a complete mess I’d made of Banks LTD, James’s career, my relationship with my father, and my own dignity . . . in that tiny five-minute period on stage.

But honestly, it didn’t faze me at all. I didn’t care when everyone in the lobby was looking at me and whispering as I tugged my suitcase toward the exit. I didn’t care when I looked up at the television in the airport and saw that my little appearance and James’s downfall had made national news. CNN, go me! And I don’t care now that I’m probably going to be fired.

Really, what difference does it make? I’ll end up in my prettily decorated apartment, helping Ugandan nonprofits, and feeling just as empty about my life as I do now.

I take the elevator up to the top floor. This time, I’m an eleven o’clock, not even close to being first, because that’s where I rank now, in my father’s all-important scheme of things.

When I step out into the reception area, my father’s secretary says, “Oh! Hi! Elizabeth!”

I can tell the whole office is abuzz with what I did. She seems surprised I have the gall to show my face here again.

“Your father’s meetings are running late. Have a seat. Can I get you some coffee?”

I shake my head and sit in the waiting area, tapping my fingers on my knee. My father was released from the hospital the day after he went in, so nobody found out he had been in there, which is what he wanted. Unlike me, he was able to pull off his deception.

As I sit there, I practice over and over again in my head what I’m going to say to him. I’m sorry doesn’t seem like enough for how royally I screwed up. But I feel like I could be apologizing until the end of the world, and it’ll never repair the damage I’ve done. So maybe I shouldn’t even try.

Finally, his secretary looks up at me. “You can go on in.”

I nod and whisper thanks to her, walk to the heavy double doors, and push them open.

My father is sitting behind his massive wood desk, hands tented in front of him. “Lizzy.”

I walk in and realize that LB is sitting there too.

Of course.

I sit on the very edge of the seat next to him.

My father’s frown is scarier and deeper than usual. “What have you got to say for yourself, young lady?”

All the apologies I was going to say just fly right out the window.

I did all of this because I felt like I needed to bend over backward for my dad. Because I wanted him to see me as worthwhile.

But why the fuck should I have to?

I throw up my hands. “I couldn’t get anyone else. And I just wanted to prove to you that I could handle this. That I could make a man that everyone would fall in love with. So that you would finally see that I can make sound business decisions and I’m not just a pretty face.”

“Sound business decisions? You call this sound?”

My breath catches in my throat.

“I was thinking on my feet. I needed a man. And I found one.”

He slams his hands on the table. “Have you been fucking him?”