The Price Of Scandal(110)

“I’m very, very expensive. I’m glad you can still afford me.”

“This calls for champagne,” I said. I kissed Derek on the cheek and slid out of the booth. At the bar, I ordered a few bottles and a cake. I wanted cake today.

“Celebrating something?”

I turned to the woman next to me and nearly slipped off my stool. It was one of the romance novelists.

“Y-yes,” I sputtered.

I’d just had a showdown with a board of directors, a physical altercation with my nemesis, and now I was tongue-tied over speaking to a woman in yoga pants and a Tequila Tacos and Naps shirt.

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Congratulations, whatever it is. I love a happy ending,” she said, fingers flying over the keyboard of her laptop.

“Here comes mine, now,” I said as Derek approached.

“Hmm, chiseled jaw covered in stubble. Carelessly worn suit. Ooh. Eyes like the deepest point in the Caribbean.”

“I like to think of them as a glacier blue,” I told her.

“Glacier. Nice.” Her fingers danced over the keyboard.

“I’m standing right here,” Derek said.

“And we’re sitting right here appreciating you,” the novelist said. She knocked back the rest of her drink and signaled for another one. “I’m suddenly feeling inspired.”

“Good luck,” I told her.

“You, too,” she said without looking up from her screen. “You guys got any tacos on the menu?” she asked the bartender.

I took the first open bottle of champagne and slid off the stool.

Derek snaked his arms around me.

“What do you say you and I take that bottle and sneak off to the bathroom?”

“Bathrooms are kind of gross. Maybe try the rooftop terrace since it’s closed until dinner?” the writer suggested.

“Come on, darling,” Derek said, pulling me toward the stairs. “Let’s go find our happy ending.”

Behind us, my friends, my circle, was still toasting.

“To Derek, I’m so glad I didn’t have to junk punch you.”

“To Derek!”





Epilogue





Emily





“I’ve got some papers for you to review when you have a moment, love.” The warm affection in Derek’s voice drew my attention away from the microscope I was glued to.

“This is a nice surprise,” I said, lifting my lips for a kiss for my sexy, smart, well-dressed, devastatingly handsome boyfriend. It was a Saturday morning, or at least it had been two hours ago, I winced, noting the time on the clock. A beautiful, hot day outside, and I was happily toiling over a blood sample and new, life-changing data.

“It’s almost quitting time,” he said, dropping a neat stack of legal documents next to me on the stainless steel work table. “I thought I’d pick you up and we could head to the beach bar for a late lunch. Maybe finish the afternoon off with a naked swim and drinks at home?”

The man knew how to woo me away from my work like no other.

“That sounds like perfection,” I said, rising from the stool and slipping my arms around his neck. “What’s wrong?”

He looked… nervous? A nervous Derek was a suspicious Derek.

“What are you up to?” I demanded. “Did you steal the Porsche keys again?”

He laughed, blue eyes twinkling and it gave me a start to know that soon, I might know someone else with his beautiful eyes.

“You’re a suspicious one, aren’t you?” he said, stroking a hand affectionately over my hair. I’d pulled it back in a short stub to keep it out of my way while I ran tests and chewed over data.

“You’re the one standing there like you’ve got a secret,” I pointed out.

“Maybe my secret is in those documents,” he prodded.

With a sigh, I released my hold on him. “This better not be another speaking engagement contract.”

Six months after I left Flawless and after Lona’s in-depth, behind-the-scenes article came out, I was still swatting away offers for speeches and interviews. But I was far too busy readying AHA’s blood test for its phase one clinical trial.

To me, the past was in the past. The disgraced and under investigation Lita had left town and the last Derek’s research team had told me was busy conning Merritt Van Winston into marriage. My brother, Trey, was getting ready for his fraud trial. His new girlfriend, actress Zoey Grace, was fronting the money for his legal fees because our parents were embroiled in their own divorce proceedings.

“Emily, darling, would I waste your time with that?” Derek asked dryly.

“Yes. You would.”

“It’s not a speaking engagement. It’s a merger. An important one. And there’s one thing missing.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a black velvet box and placed it on top of the papers.

My heart skipped a beat.

Marriage. Marriage to Derek. Another layer of partnership. Was I ready? Was he? Did he know my lovely little secret? Was that why?

“Before you overanalyze this to death, read the agreement,” he said, nudging the papers and ring box closer to me.

With shaking, careful fingers, I picked up the jeweler’s box and set it carefully on the table top.