Torn: Part Three (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (The Torn Series Book 3) (3 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

PIPER

“Your services won't be needed today,” Ann's voice sounds gravelly and tired.

My heart sinks as I realize that Holden probably got to her. Is this the beginning of the end, or was it already over the second he stepped through that door and made it known that he despises me?

“What about tomorrow?” I ask timidly, wholly expecting her to give me the next day off as well. The coward's way of firing me. Cut my already thin hours so that I'm forced to look for work elsewhere.

“Yes. Come in tomorrow.”

Internally, I sigh in relief. Hopefully, I'm over thinking things. It doesn't seem like a good idea to bring up Holden right now, though, despite the fact that I desperately want to inquire about whether or not he's still pestering her. As long as I still have a job, that's all I should care about.

“Alright. I'll see you in the morning then, Ann. You have a good day,” my tone takes an upward swing. She needs to know that I'm happy to be working for her.

As soon as I hang up my phone, I make a beeline for the computer in the living room. I can't keep counting on hope. If Holden does manage to convince Ann to fire me, then I need to have a backup plan.

I scowl as I wait for the computer to boot up, wondering why Holden was so angry that Ann hired me in the first place. The answer should be obvious though. Guys like him are often control freaks. A successful business man and a Dom. He probably thinks he needs to rule everything around him.

With a sigh, I scroll through job listings. Every application that I submit and resume that I send makes my chest twinge with pain at the thought that I'm somehow betraying Ann.

When I'm done, I shut off the computer and swivel around in my chair to stare at the blank television screen. It's eerily quiet this morning. The boys must have decided to sleep in. Either that or they're both just hanging out upstairs. I haven't heard much noise coming from the top floor, though.

It's going to be another long, boring day, but the thought of staying home isn't as daunting as it was before. Lately, it seems like I've been making some progress with the boys, and while I'm still not happy with my situation having to play parent to them, it's slowly starting to become more bearable. I suppose I'll just spend the day cleaning. To be honest, I haven't done a whole lot around the house since moving back, and it could use some tidying up. I wonder what the odds are of me being able to recruit the boys to help me once they do wake up.

I force myself to my feet and get to work on the kitchen. At the very least, cleaning will help me kill time until tonight. Nothing makes a day drag like sitting on your ass. And there are a whole lot of hours to fill before it's time for me to go to the play party.

***

I leave the house with a smile on my face. The day has gone swimmingly well for me having it off. As soon as Earl and Joe woke up and finished eating breakfast, they jumped in on the chores with me. As a reward, I let them have friends over for the night. Everyone was happy for once.

My mom would probably kill me for doing this, for leaving a fifteen-year-old and an eleven-year-old home alone with a house full of other kids. I want them to have the childhood I didn't though, and I really don't see the harm in it as long as they don't burn the place down.

I'm dressed conservatively in a sleeveless black cocktail dress, not wanting to come off as overly slutty. Going to play parties always makes me nervous when they're being held at someone's home, especially when it's someone I don't know.

I pull up the address on my GPS and daydream about who I might meet as I drive to the location. Usually, these types of play parties have a small turnout, so my options are going to be slim compared to Club Fet. That makes me frown. Stupid Holden Longworth. He ruined everything for me. And over what? Because he doesn't want me working for his mother. What a prick!

I can't think about that now though. I have to be optimistic and hope that I can find a handsome Dom willing to show me a good time. Hot sex would be the cherry on the cake of this day.

The house where the party is at is in a cul-de-sac. There are about half a dozen cars parked in the driveway and lining the street. Nothing impressive. I start to wonder if this was a waste of time. Most of the people who are here will probably be Doms already paired with subs. What will that leave for me?

I find a suitable place to park, then kill the engine and sigh before stepping out of my car and smoothing down the front of my dress. There's a large part of me that doesn't want to even bother going inside—that wants to get back in my car and head to Club Fet. I could definitely find someone there. Maybe not the ideal person, since it's a Tuesday, but my options would be better. Then Holden's face flashes through my mind, and I realize that I can't deal with that today. Just seeing him would tank my mood, and I deserve this one good day.

I make my way to the front door. When I ring the doorbell, an older gentleman—the party's host, Larry—promptly comes to greet me. He smiles and we exchange pleasantries as he leads me into the living room where a few other lifestylers are sitting around having a conversation. To my disappointment, all of the Doms brought their submissives with them. The only person not paired off is Larry, and he's not my type at all. Close to twice my age, thin and bald. His smile is a bit too broad and toothy. The corners of his eyes are lined with crow's feet. Definitely not my type.

To make matters worse, everyone already seems to know everyone else. For the sake of politeness, they ask me some basic get-to-know-you questions, then I fall into silence as they continue their conversation around me, talking about events they've attended, scenes they've seen, and people they all know. Every once in a while, I'll chime in with a story from Utah, but they seem more interested in their own world, and eventually I withdraw socially, turning into a wallflower—listening but not speaking.

This may be a play party, but there's certainly not a lot of play going on. I can hear a couple in one of the bedrooms, the sound of leather hitting skin and the occasional cry of pain. Normally, that would be enough to turn me on. I feel too damn awkward though. All I want is to escape, but I don't want to ruin the boys' night by coming home early.

The doorbell rings and my ears perk with hope that it might be someone of interest. That's probably too much to ask for, though. More than likely, it's another Dom/sub pair who know the others here.

I hear male voices approaching, which means nothing to me at first. If there's a female submissive with them, she'll probably remain silent out of respect for her Dom and the host. But then the pitch of the other male voice begins to sound familiar, and by the time my brain matches a face to it, the two men have entered the living room.

My lips couldn't sink further into a scowl if I used my fingers to force them down. My eyes instantly narrow at the new addition to the group, and I feel about five hundred times more out of place than I did before. I stayed away from Club Fet to avoid this asshole, and now he's here. What the bloody fuck?!

Holden pauses for half a second when he sees me, then he smirks, an expression full of wicked amusement. There's nothing sexual about it. Nothing pleasant either.

“I didn't expect to see you here.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his slacks, stopping to tower over me. I imagine that he means to intimidate me. All I want to do is punch him square in the balls.

“Likewise,” I grumble, refusing to move over to make room for him on the sofa.

To my surprise, he claims what little space is there, wedging himself between me and another submissive, which forces us both to scoot down. For the briefest of seconds, I think about finding another seat, but I won't give him the pleasure of thinking he's displaced me.

Thankfully, he goes straight to ignoring me, seamlessly integrating himself into the conversation. They know him. All of them know him. All of them seem to like him. That means these people aren't my friends.

“So, Piper, how goes the job hunt?” Holden turns to me abruptly. The question sounds so casual, like he knows that I've been actively looking for another job. It pisses me off.

“What ever do you mean?” I use my best clueless voice.

“You remember how I said I was going to do a background check on you?”

An unpleasant feeling snakes through my stomach and up into the back of my throat, though I quickly swallow it down. There's nothing on my background check. At least, there shouldn't be. I wouldn't put it past him to bring up something trivial like the fact that I went to truancy court when I was a teenager. I'm pretty sure that he'll grasp at any straw he can to get rid of me.

“I'm sure that you were more than disappointed in your findings.” I settle back against the sofa, trying to appear like I don't give a shit about anything he has to say to me.

“Actually, I was quite impressed.” He twists around to face me, which makes me groan internally. This probably means that he wants to have a full conversation. I should have left when he was talking to everyone else.

“Oh? Does that mean you're going to drop the subject of me working for your mother?” I know better than to believe that. While I can't read his tone entirely, I do detect traces of sarcasm.

“Why would I do that?” He tilts his head. “We both know you're not going to be working for her for very long. There's no need to pretend otherwise.”

I roll my eyes. “I don't know that. But you certainly seem to think that you know everything.”

“I know that you have a BA in accounting. I know that you recently moved here and that working for my mother is the first job you've had since you came back.”

Anger bubbles up inside of me at what he's implying, surging out to my extremities to fill me with heat. “So it is.”

He leans into me suddenly, so close that his cologne practically smacks me in the face. If I didn't hate him so much, I might be enticed by it. He smells good. There's no doubt about that. Right now, though, I don't want to smell him. I don't want to be anywhere near him.

“I've got a little business proposition for you,” he whispers.

“Not interested.”

“Oh, but I think you would be if you just heard me out.”

In my peripheral vision, I can see his eyes scrolling up my body. I shudder from the look he's giving me, and I begin to wonder if I'm wrong about what his proposition entails. There's something very sexual about the way he's interacting with me right now. And while I despise him, I can't help but feel a stirring deep inside.

“I'm not interested in hearing you out.” I stand before addressing the rest of the party. "I'm going to be leaving now. You guys have a good rest of your night."

Holden seems perplexed for a moment, but he quickly gets up to walk me to the door. I turn before he has a chance to follow me out, placing my hand on his chest. Just touching the front of his suit does something to me, something I don't like. Why does he have to keep getting so close.

“I don't need you to walk me out.” I can't even look at him when I speak.

“Of course, you don't. I'm just being a gentleman.”

As I walk to my car, my conscience echoes that nothing good will come of this. Whether his proposition is sexual or otherwise, I can't accept it. I can't allow him to win in any way.

“What do you want?” I spin around to face him when I reach my vehicle.

He's standing in the street, looking cool and composed as he gazes down at the silent neighborhood. The stars sparkle in the sky behind him, making him look like a model. My heart skips a beat as I think about how devastatingly handsome he is...and how devastating. He can't be trusted. Whatever he asks of me, the answer has to be no.

“You could use a better set of wheels.” He glances down at my car and frowns.

“Did you really come out here just to insult my car?” I place a hand on my hip, instantly pissed off.

Considering that it wasn't here when I arrived and that it's the nicest car on the street, I can take a shot in the dark that the new black Ferrari is his. Of course, he'd think that my old Buick Regal is a piece of shit. He can buy a new car whenever he wants. I've had this car since I started driving. Sure, it has a few dents and scratches, and a little bit of hail damage on the roof, but it also has character. And it's mine. Screw him for belittling it.

“No.” He takes a deep breath. “I came out here to see what it will take to make you quit working for my mother.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course, you did. Well, I hate to disappoint you, but as I said, not interested.” I dig my keys out of my purse. By the time I find them, he's standing a lot closer. So close that I'm startled by the heat radiating from him.

“I told you that I can make you interested,” his voice is as smooth as silk, making me feel things that I hate. It's amazing how some men have that power—to do things to you with just their voice. It's manipulation. A lot of businessmen are trained to speak in such a way that it commands attention. “I can write you a check right now. It can be,” he hesitates, “enough to replace this.” He taps the hood of my car with his fist, and all of my poise goes out the window.