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Authors: Allison Gatta

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BOOK: Bargaining with the Boss
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"I still stepped in for her. I saved her from that bastard." Brooks' argument came out weaker than he would have liked, and his brother shrugged in response.

"Do you really think that's enough?"

"I was there when she needed me."

"No, she needed you before anything happened."

"How was I supposed to know her crazy ex-husband was lurking in the crowd? Am I a psychic?"

"No, but you're not supposed to bail when things get tough."

"You don't know what you're talking about. You're going to sit here and tell me you wouldn't lose your fucking mind with Rachael was flirting with some guy right in front of you?"

"That's not what I'm saying. But I love Rachael. Are you saying you love Natalie?"

"I—"

"And I would ask Rachael for the truth. Maybe you should think about doing the same."

"You know what, I think I'm going to head home."

"Good. Running when things get tough is a new look for you."

"Garret—"

He held up his hand. "Don't say anything else. It's just something else you'll have to apologize for later."

Brooks snatched his jacket from a living room chair, then bolted out of the house and into his car. As soon as he started the engine, his radio clicked to life and his own name buzzed out of the speakers.

"Brooks Adams, Dominic Del Rossi, and a whole lot of drama. The woman who started it all will be with us tomorrow to explain the good, the bad, and the ugly of what happened in the now-infamous billionaire brawl. Tune in at nine to hear all the details and to meet the Helen of Troy behind the story." The nasally female sounded so excited that Brooks could picture her salivating as she read the words.

He turned the dial down as far as it could go, then started his journey home, trying to ignore the ball of stress tightening in his chest.

Why would Natalie go on air and talk about him?

He didn't care what she said exactly. Lord knew she couldn't be the first to say whatever it was, but why would she put herself in the middle of it all?

Unless she truly was that upset with his lying and—okay—cheating and wanted to get back at him.

But even as he thought it over, he knew Natalie could never do something like that. If she was angry, she would have shown up on his doorstep and given him every piece of her mind that she could muster.

So what was it?

He slowed as he drove past her house. A soft light flickered in her living room window, and for a moment he considered stopping and dropping in. But it didn't feel like enough.

Besides, he didn't have anything to apologize for. He'd been fair.

A pang skewered him as he remembered Franco smiling down at her. The light in his eyes as he watched her. The way he held her hand.

How was Brooks supposed to react to that? And why wouldn't she have told him unless it was something real?

Oh, I don't know, maybe it had something to do with that psychotic ex...

But he'd made it right. He'd done to her what she'd done to him.

And how did that feel?

Did it make you feel better?

Did it make Debbie feel better?

Dammit. Debbie. He'd used her, even knowing how she felt about him. And the look in her eyes when he walked out of the police station...

He grabbed his cellphone from the passenger seat, then dialed her number. As usual, she answered before the end of the first ring.

"Brooks," she breathed.

"Hey Debbie. I wanted to call and apologize for the other night."

"It's okay. That kind of thing happens to me a lot."

"Fights in the middle of your evening?"

She trilled a laugh, then said, "No, no, no. I thought you meant Natalie."

"I, uh—"

"You were staring around practically the whole time I was talking to you. I know I've got a voice like a forth grader, but that doesn't mean I'm dumb."

"I didn't realize."

"It's okay. Really. I'm glad you found each other. You're a great couple. You need someone who can keep you in line."

"Right...uh, thanks." He glanced at the phone, trying to convince himself that this was, indeed, Debbie Bowhart he was talking to. But there it was. He name in big white letters on his screen.

"You're welcome," she said.

"I still feel bad. Do you want me to set you up with our company?"

She hummed over the phone, but then said, "You know, I'll think it over. But thanks. Hey, have a good night."

"Yeah, you too." He clicked off the phone, then pulled into his driveway.

So, it was unanimous. He was supposed to be with Natalie Gains.

According to everyone except Natalie herself.

He stumbled from the car and made his way to his apartment, thinking over the things Garret had said. And Debbie. And even Natalie.

By the time he got to his bedroom, he knew one thing for absolutely certain.

He was the world's most colossal idiot.

But he was going to fix that.

He just had to figure out how.

Chapter Thirteen

"
S
o
, Miss. Gains--"

"Natalie is fine." The studio lights were brighter than she'd expected and her make-up lady had coated her with so much powder that she'd be shocked if a little cloud of smoke didn't follow her everywhere she went. Still, she couldn't back down now.

She'd already told this story once, after all. What was one more time?

"Natalie, then. I don't even know where to begin." The brunette placed a goblet-sized glass of wine in front of her, and then took a swig from her own wine trough.

"I know," the blonde co-anchor said, "Tell us what happened that night."

"At the Charity gala?" Natalie asked.

Both women nodded.

"Well, before I talk about that, I think it's important know why I have a restraining order against my ex-husband, Dominic Del Rossi."

"Ex-husband?" The nasally brunette interrupted her, but the blonde woman pinched her beneath the counter and they both fell silent, sipping their wine and listening.

Natalie told the story as simply as she could, without embellishments, but with all the facts. About how lovely the Del Rossi family had been to her. About how Franco had saved her.

And about Dominic.

"I'm ashamed to say I kept what happened to me a secret and that I never pressed charges. I thought a person like me against someone so powerful could never win." She swallowed. It was almost over. She just had to get through this last part. This one last part. "But that's over now. I'm going to tell my story for women like me. And it's not a sob story, it's just a story. It's something that happened and it's something that should never, ever be acceptable to anyone. Ever. I can't live with the secrets anymore, and I hope the women carrying that weight with them can join me in telling their stories."

A tear trickled down the brunette's cheek, then landed in her wine glass. "That's a beautiful sentiment."

"It certainly is." The blonde joined her, "And we'll hear even more from Natalie Gains after a word from our sponsors."

The studio lights dimmed and she breathed a sigh of relief. The hardest part was over. Or, at least, the start of the hardest part. Next would be everything that followed the charges and the restraining order. The inevitable media circus. But that was all small potatoes.

And the best part? The most surprising part?

It didn’t hurt as much this time. It wasn’t like the first time, where every word felt like she was pulling another deep-rooted tooth from her gums.

It was hard, sure, but it was easier.

And maybe, just maybe, it would get even easer from here on out. Like, by admitting what had happened to her, she was letting it go one piece at a time.

The make-up woman rushed over to her and powdered her face liberally with something pink and shimmery. Natalie coughed, but the woman continued on as if Natalie weren't even there.

Next, she moved to the blonde anchor who was, apparently, very used to the treatment. She even took another sip from her wine as the woman fluffed and primped her.

"You should really have a glass. That can't be an easy story to tell." The anchor tilted her own glass toward Natalie, but she refused as politely as she could.

The most difficult part might be over now, but there were still plenty of rocks in the road up ahead.

Like what she'd have to say about Franco.

And Brooks.

"Suit yourself," the anchor shoved a hunk of her bleached hair behind one shoulder. "But just know that I admire you for that."

"You admire me?" She raised her eyebrows. "I never pressed charges."

The anchor nodded. "Until now. But you are. And that kind of growth is even more admirable, don't you think?"

The cameraman motioned to the anchor and she winked. "We're about to go on. Kim?" She slapped the desk in from of the brunette anchor and the woman seemed to wake from her daze.

"Show time."

"Right, thanks, Catherine." The brunette nodded.

"Anytime, sweetie." Catherine made a private motion to Natalie of what looked like quite a bit of drinking, then grinned and turned her attention to the camera as the countdown from commercial began.

And just like that, she was back in the spotlight.

"Hello Connecticut. We're back this morning with Natalie Gains, the star of last week's charity fiasco. For those of you who aren't familiar with the events, here's a clip of the action."

In a monitor, Natalie watched a miniature Brooks leap toward an even smaller Dominic. She winced. It had been bad enough watching it in real life. Watch it now with the dim lighting and the slow-motion violence made it feel that much worse.

"Now, that's Brooks Adams attacking Dominic Del Rossi, isn't it?" Catherine asked.

Natalie nodded. "He was defending me. He knew about my history with Dominic and when he saw that the restraining order had been violated..."

"He took it upon himself to be Batman?" Kim chuckled. "Figures a millionaire playboy would try his hand at that. I think we're just amazed he managed to untangle himself from his date in time to save you."

On the monitor, an image of Brooks and the woman who she now knew was Debbie Bowhart flashed on the screen.

"Regardless of the situation, I have a lot to thank him for. He might have saved my life last week."

Lana and Catherine nodded in unison, then Catherine reached out and covered Natalie's hand with her own. "Between us girls, though. We're not all that interested in Brooks Adams."

"No?"

"We want to know about this" Catherine pointed to something she couldn't see, and then she found an image of herself on the monitor, her cheeks red and blotchy as Franco smoothed her hair.

"What is going on there, sister?" Kim chimed in.

"Franco has been my close friend for years. He helped me through the worst chapter of my life. Without Brooks there, I turned to him for comfort."

"Without Brooks there?" Kim raised her eyebrows.

Shit.

She hadn't meant to say it like that. She'd just been talking and then...well, it had just come out.

"I mean—"

"You know, that does bring up an interesting question. You were on Brooks' arm when the two of you entered the gala, weren't you?"

By way of answer, an image of herself and Brooks flashed on the monitor. He was staring down at her, smiling without any mocking or taunting behind his grin.

Instead, he looked happy. Almost adoring.

She'd seen that look before, reserved only for her in the privacy of her bedroom.

"We did," she managed.

"So, how did Debbie come into the picture?" Kim asked.

"It's funny you should ask." A familiar deep voice sounded from behind a camera and all three women turned to find Brooks standing there, his hands in his pockets as usual.

"Oh my goodness, ladies and gentlemen, we have Brooks Adams in our studio. Talk about drama. Two love triangles intertwining in one place. I wish I'd paid more attention in geometry class, or I'd know what to call it." Catherine fanned herself.

"I think they'd call it a square, Cath."

"Right, right."

In the time the two women had gone back and forth, a crew member had found Brooks a chair and set him up with a microphone. To her chagrin—and, admittedly—to her delight, his seat was settled directly beside Natalie.

"So, Mr. Adams, are you here to clarify the confusion and mayhem of the last week or are you here to confess your undying love to one of us?" Kim grinned.

"I hope it's me." Catherine added.

"Well, ladies, first of all, I came here on business and to clear the air. A lot of you have seen this picture of myself and Debbie Bowhart." He nodded toward the screen and they showed the picture again.

How did he know to just do that? Was it some kind of secret code or something?

"Anyway, I wanted to reveal a little secret that Debbie and I have had in the works for a while now. Bowhart Event and Organic Chemistry matchmaking are teaming up for the party of the century. We're inviting all the singles in the area to come out and join us for the mixer. As a thank you, we'll give you a free month membership to our matchmaking services and, should you meet the one you love, you'll receive an additional 20% off of wedding planning when you book with Bowhart events."

"What a fabulous idea," Catherine was nearly drooling, but Kim apparently wasn't fooled so easily.

"You mean to tell me
that
was a business meeting between you and Debbie?"

He nodded.

"Interesting." Kim tilted her mouth to the side, but Brooks didn't seem the slightest bit bothered. Instead, he swiveled his chair nearer to Natalie, looking her in the eyes for the first time since the awful events of the week before.

"Look, I know you don't believe me, Kim, but from where I stand, there's only one person's opinion that counts. I've let down a lot of people, but I couldn't bare to let Natalie down and I need her to know that there's only one woman for me, and she's sitting right here."

He held out his hand and she stared at it for a long moment before taking it in her own.

"Natalie, I love you, and I promise if you're with me, I'll do my damndest to make sure there's as few glitzy events as possible in our future." He looked from the camera, to Kim, to Catherine, and then to Natalie again, then continued; "I came here today to set the record straight on that. And now that I've made myself clear, I'm retiring from the media. You won't be seeing me falling out of clubs or strolling into sports bars. I'll be too busy ordering take out and watching
Jeopardy
."

He grinned at Natalie, and dammit if she didn't grin back.

"
S
o
, was it true?" Natalie asked as they bolted from the studio. He'd called to have her car driven home. Tonight, he was taking her to his place and keeping her there for a solid week before they dared get out of bed.

"Which part? Loving you? Yes, that was true."

"No, the stuff with Debbie and the party."

"Yes...and no." He helped her into the car, closed the door, and then slid into the drivers seat all while deliberating what to say next.

"Go on," she prompted.

"Well, I had intended to see Debbie that night to make you jealous the way you made me jealous with Franco."

"Which was unintentional, by the way—"

"I know, I know," he shrugged her off. This was a new, truthful start for both of them and he didn't intend on being sidetracked quite so soon. "Anyway, it turns out that Debbie just wanted to talk to me about business. She's sick of everyone thinking she's an airhead, so she started her own company."

"Good for her."

"It is," he nodded. "But just because that's what ended up happening doesn't mean I'm off the hook for my actions. I know that now and I—"

Now it was her turn to interrupt. "I was never mad about Debbie. At least, not really."

"So why didn't you come to the police station? Why didn't you call me or?"

"Well, at first it was because I didn't want to talk about what happened to me with Dominic. I couldn't bring myself to tell the story again and put myself through a trial, so I thought when he made bail, I'd have to skip town and hide out, hoping he wouldn't find me again. I didn't want to drag you into all that. It wouldn't have been fair to you."

"But what about when you decided to go on the show?"

"Well...I had a plan, but I don't want to tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because it's dumb."

"Come on, tell me."

She sighed. "I was going to come into work with a contract for you. I have it all typed up and everything. The bargain we initially agreed to, all signed, sealed, and ready to go."

"That's so sweet."

"It's dumb."

"No, it's perfect."

He pulled into his driveway, but let the car idle as he leaned back and took her in. "So, what was in the contract?"

"It doesn't matter now."

"Oh, but it does. If I only get five nights with you, I want to make sure they're the best five nights of your life."

She placed her finger on her chin, pretending to think. "You know, somehow, I think I missed that part. I'll have to amend it."

"Don't you dare." He turned the engine off, then leapt across the console to pin her into place. Slowly, he dropped kisses along the length of her throat until his lips finally met hers.

The kiss was just as gentle as all the others, but it still felt like something more. Something substantial and heartfelt and warm. It went on for what might have been an eternity, and then Natalie broke away and said, "Okay, okay. Unlimited nights."

"And mornings and afternoons?" He nibbled her earlobe and she arched into him as she nodded.

"You got it."

"You know, I meant what I said." He pulled back, then tucked his hands beneath her chin and tilted her face up to look into his eyes. Damn, she was beautiful. Just looking at her made his heart beat in double time.

"When you said you're done with the media?" A strand of hair fell in front of her face and he brushed it away with his thumb.

"Yes. But the other thing, too. I love you, Natalie Gains. I love that you challenge me and that you're strong and independent. I wouldn't have you any other way."

A ghost of a smile played across her lips, and then she gripped his shirt collar again, pulling him into another long, hot kiss.

"I love you too, Brooks Adams. And don't you forget it."

BOOK: Bargaining with the Boss
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