Dirty Rich Cinderella Story by Lisa Renee Jones
“He always lifts me up,” I say without hesitation. “He doesn’t coddle me, using your own words. He pushes me. He forces me to be better and I think I am better because of that. He’s the reason we have this six month scholarship option.”
“Okay then,” she says. “That’s good. Moving on, my general observation is that to be with a strong man, most women either become submissive or they’re confident enough to know they can hold their own, and so they do. You’re not submissive, but you don’t seem to believe you can hold your own with Cole.”
“That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
I hold my hands out. “Look at where we live.”
“And?”
“The first thing he said when we got to the hallway was that he was getting us out of here.”
“He cares about you. He wants to take care of you.”
“Getting us out of this place is not a reason to move in with him.”
“He didn’t ask until he saw this place? Is that what worries you?”
“Yes. He wants me with him all the time. He does. I see that. He gave me a key. It just feels like seeing how we live pushed him to take the next step to make it official. That’s not why I want to take the next step and that’s why I didn’t want him to come here.” Every feeling I have felt this night caves in on me. “Even if we could really be together, and we can’t—I can’t live with my boss—how will I know, how will he know, that his motivation is me, and us, and not our situation?”
“I can’t answer that,” my mother says. “But in your heart, I think you can. If that means taking a step back, do it, but don’t step too far. You might not find your way back to him.”
***
Cole
I leave Lori’s place, go to the hospital, bribe a few people, and despite the late hour, manage to get the Havens’ bill paid off before I depart; an anonymous gift, of course. Because I’m not leaving her in that cracker box. Just knowing I took care of it takes some of the edge off, but my nerves are jumping and I fight the need to go back to Lori’s place and bring her home with me where she belongs.
I walk into my apartment that is empty without Lori. No laughter. No soft sweet voice. No her, naked in my arms. I don’t know how this night went this wrong, but it was a shit-show the size of a volcanic eruption. My cell phone rings and I glance down to find Ashley’s number. I don’t answer. I’ve already talked to her two times since leaving the restaurant. The only person I want to talk to is Lori.
I peel off my jacket and tie, and walk to the bar, grab a glass for whiskey and decide I need ice or I’m going to drink way too fucking fast. I head to the kitchen and of course, the damn ice machine isn’t working. I open the freezer that I never open, and stare at the cash sitting next to the ice tray. I grab it and count five thousand dollars. This is how much she doesn’t trust me. If she did, she wouldn’t be so damn afraid of leaning on me. Of needing me. And what did I do? Paid off the rest of her debt.
I throw the damn money in the trashcan and walk to the bar and fill my glass, sans the ice. I asked her to move in with me. Now, she wants space. I down my drink and have another. I asked her to move in with me. I stare at my cell phone that remains silent. “She needs space,” I murmur. Fuck. I toss the phone on the couch, fighting every urge in me to go to her again. I keep pushing her and she steps back. And back, and so fucking far back that I’m in another room where she clearly wants me to stay.
And isn’t that the point? Me, trying to give her what she wants. I’ve obviously not been listening to what she’s been telling me. Now she has spoken. Space is what she wants. Space is what I will give her. Now she’ll be happy. I listened.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Lori
After a night of lying awake thinking about Cole and everything my mother said, I decide I need to talk to him. I’m pissed at him for ignoring my request, but I know in my heart, he came to me because he cares. And I don’t want to push him away. I just need to be sure this is real, and I don’t know how to do that, but it’s not without him.
When I arrive at work, I barely sit down at my desk, when Cole buzzes through my intercom. “My office,” he orders, his tone sharp, crisp, professional.
My stomach clenches with nerves I shouldn’t feel with Cole, but I do. I stand, straightening the basic black skirt that I’m wearing with yet another basic black blouse, that all feels more basic today than other days, when suddenly Ashley is in my doorway. “I’m a bitch. I’m such a bitch. I was a wreck last night and I have no excuse for my behavior. It’s not me. I promise. Please forgive me.”
“You’re forgiven,” I say, that embarrassment of last night oddly not here now. “Let’s forget it.”
“You know there is nothing between me and Cole, right?”
“Yes, and can we please not have this conversation here?”
“Right. I’m sorry. Just—based on Cole’s mood—”
“Lori,” Cole says over the intercom. “Are you coming?”
“On my way,” I reply, and Ashley shakes her head. “That mood. He’s never like this.”
“Yes, well,” I say, “we’re making it worse, huddled in here.”
“Right again,” she says, and we both make a path toward Cole’s office.
“Good luck,” Ashley says, before claiming her seat behind her desk while I open Cole’s door and walk inside. He’s standing, every inch of him perfection in a blue three-piece suit. He glances up at me and starts shoving files in his briefcase. “One of the junior partners under Reese fucked up a case to the point of fucked up being fucked up. As in, he left evidence off documents that he knew existed.”
“Isn’t that grounds to be disbarred?” I ask, stopping in front of his desk.
“Yes. Exactly. It’s also a black mark against our firm. Reese is in court today. I have to go to the courthouse to meet with the judge and convince him that me taking over fixes the problem.”
I hurry across the room. “What do you need me to do?”
He hands me a file. “Prepare paperwork for me, have Ashley file it, and text me the minute it’s done.” He hands me another file. “There’s another three things in that file that are self-explanatory I’d planned to do myself.” He grabs his briefcase. “It’s all time sensitive.”
“I’ll handle it.”
He looks at me then, really looks at me, and his eyes are hard. “I know you will. Because I trust you.”
His message is obvious: He doesn’t believe that I trust him. “I trust you, Cole,” I whisper.
“You’ll have a chance to prove that soon, so we’ll see.”
He doesn’t explain himself. He rounds his desk and leaves.
***
Cole
My day spirals into chaos from the moment I walk out the door, and keeps spiraling. It’s three o’clock when I make it back and Lori walks into my office. Ashley follows. “There’s a man on the line that says he has information on that professor you’re representing. Says he’s a reporter speaking off the record.”
I pick up the phone and answer the call. “Cole Brooks.”
“He’s innocent,” the man says.
“Who am I speaking with?”
“I’m not going to give you my name on the phone, but I’ll meet you.”
“What is this about?” I press.
“I got a lead on the real killer,” the man says. “Enough of a lead to give you your reasonable doubt.”
“Why would you help me?” I ask cautiously.
“Because I gave the lead to the police and they haven’t followed up.”
My gut says he’s telling the truth, but I want to look into his eyes and see the evidence. “When and where?” I ask.
He gives me a location, a bar of some sort, and a time. I disconnect and stand up, glancing at my watch. “I have a meeting and now drinks with an informant. Whatever you have to update me on has to wait.” I grab my briefcase and l
As for trust, she has none for me. I paid her bill. To her that means I hold something over her. To her that means I can’t be trusted. I saw her apartment. I must want her to live with me because of that. It can’t be because I love her. She doesn’t trust us, even more, she doesn’t trust me.
***
Lori
Cole doesn’t come back to the office. He also doesn’t call me and tell me about the reporter or what is going on with the case. I leave the office alone and I go home to my apartment alone. I tell myself this is what I asked for. I wanted space. I told him so. He’s doing what I asked, for once. Okay, he did what I asked a lot.
I eat a TV dinner and try to work on a paper I have to get written. Alone. This is what I wanted. Only it isn’t. I just wanted Cole to understand the word “no” and yet really, everything he has done for me, has been generous and worthy of the title Prince Charming.
I’ve never been so confused in my life.
I stare at my phone, willing it to ring or buzz. I pick it up a half-dozen times to text him but anything I have to say, can’t be said on text. I consider going to him, but what has changed? How do I know what is real and what is not with Cole?
***
Cole
I lay in the bed alone. I used to enjoy that word. I fucking hate it now. This is what Lori wanted, only she didn’t have the common courtesy not to leave her floral perfume all over my bed. Even my damn pillow smells like her. I sit up and grab my phone from the nightstand to call her, but toss it across the bed. She said she wanted space. I’m overwhelming her. My money fucking overwhelms her. If I overwhelm her, we aren’t on the same page, because I can’t get enough of her. I need to step back. This is going to affect my work and I have people’s futures in my hands. I need to step back, like she has.
I walk down the stairs and sleep on the couch.
CHAPTER FIFTY
Lori
I wake up Saturday morning, alone again, without Cole.
I hate that word now: Alone.
I hate that feeling now: Alone.
I force myself to shower and I dress in my most comfy pink and black sweats with a matching tee, just trying to feel human. I’ve just started on my school work when my mother calls to invite me to coffee with her and her new man. I, of course, eagerly accept and hurry to meet them at the coffee shop. Turns out that Joe is handsome, charming and he really seems to care about my mother. I spend hours talking with them both, listening to them finish each other’s sentences, and when my mother and I return home, I’m feeling good about what she has in her life.
That is until she delivers the shock I can’t expect.
“I’m moving in with Joe,” she announces.
Stunned, I blanch. “What?”
“Our lease is up next month and he has a beautiful place. He wants you to come, too.”
I give a choked laugh at the irony of this moment, but I don’t fight my mother. She is healthy and well. This makes her happy and that is exactly what I wanted. “You go,” I say, “but if he doesn’t do right by you, I’ll come after him.”
“You’ll be okay?”
Again, the irony I don’t point out. “I’m great, mom.” She glows with a smile and I hug her. “When are you leaving?”
The answer is another blow. It’s now. She’s basically already living with him, and just making it official. Apparently when I’ve been with Cole, she’s been with him. It’s not long before she’s left to go to lunch with Joe, and I am in this stunned state of confusion. I grab my work and when I think to go home, I find myself at Cat’s door.
She answers right away, and like me, she’s in sweats and working at home. “Can we talk?”
Her eyes go wide. “Of course. Come in. I have coffee or is this a wine kind of thing?”
“Wine. Lots of wine.”
“You never say wine,” she says, “so this must be bad.”
A few minutes later, we’re sitting at the island in the kitchen and I tell Cat everything. “Wait,” she says, in shock. “Cole was the one night stand when you thought you were pregnant?”
“Yes. It was Cole.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
“It was his secret, too,” I say, and then I just keep going, starting with my mother, and then all the way back to what happened last night.
“He asked you to live with him,” she says. “That’s intense, but not a surprise. I felt it with you two. Reese did, too.”
“Well,” I say, “Aside from him being my boss—”
“Set that aside,” she says quickly. “I can think of a few ways we defuse that issue. What is your real problem?”
“His money, apparently.” I hold up a hand. “No. It’s not the money. It’s the way he takes over my life.”
“It seems like you’ve taken over his life, too.”
“He came to my apartment when I asked him not to,” I remind her.
“I know. I get it. He should respect that, but he came because of that Ashley thing. He cared about you enough to need to see you. And it’s better he care than not, plus he didn’t ignore your request before that, right?”
“No. He didn’t like that rule, but he listened.”
“Okay. You love him. That’s obvious.”
“I do, Cat. I really do.”
“That’s the important part to establish before all else. That means—”
The door opens and male voices fill the air. Cole’s voice. “Oh God,” I whisper. “Cat.”
“I didn’t know he was coming home with Reese. They met at the office.”
I don’t have time to process another breath when Reese, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and looking his usual handsome self, enters the kitchen. “Hey, Lori,” he says, stopping to give Cat a kiss, and murmuring something to her I don’t hear.
Cole steps into the archway between the kitchen and hallway, in jeans and a snug, black T-shirt, his expression hard, hot, and unreadable. “Hey, Cat,” he says, and then his eyes collide with mine. “Lori.”
My name has never been as brittle on his lips. “How did the meeting go last night?”
“Defense-worthy,” he says. “Perhaps even how we won the case. I’ll talk to the team about it Monday.”
The team.
Not me.
He eyes Reese. “I’m heading out.”
And then he’s gone.
Nothing more.
He’s just gone.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Cole
I leave Reese and Cat’s place, go home, change, and jog five miles. Anything to get Lori out of my head. I fail. I do it again the next morning. I fail. I do it again Monday morning. Then I walk into work and she is there. I’m pissed for no reason. It fires me up. I’m brutal with the ADA I’m dealing with on numerous cases, but it works for me and my clients. If I can’t get my way with Lori, I’m getting my way at work. At least my frustration at Lori is contributing to the good of the company.
She walks into my office at noon in a damn light blue dress that hugs her ass. I hate that fucking dress because I love her fucking ass. “I have that case file you needed,” she says, and when she would cross to set it on my desk, I stop her.
“Give it to Ashley. You have to make your Stanford deadline. Finish your papers before you touch anything else.”
She stares at me a moment, like she wants to say something, but she leaves, and I watch her ass leave in that dress. I don’t see her, or her ass, again for the rest of the day. I go for another jog that night and somehow, I walk into the Tiffany’s store. I end up at home with a twenty-five thousand dollar ring they’d called the “Soleste” in its box and staring at me. I shut the damn box. She didn’t want to live with me. Why do I think she would ma
***
Lori
A full week passes without Cole. A full week of hell. He’s shut me out. Maybe I shut him out first. Saturday morning comes, and I go to the hospital to see my mother and then as usual stop by the accounting office. “I need to make a payment on the Havens account.”
I wait and the lady behind the counter says, “There is no open account.”
“That’s impossible. We still owe ten thousand dollars.”
“Says here it was paid off a week ago.”
“By who?”
“Anonymous donation. Wow. That’s nice.”
Cole.
I’m furious. I’m confused. I’m furious all over. He can’t keep doing this and he hates me now. Why would he do this? To make me feel bad? To prove he can control me? To—what? I turn away from the counter, and don’t even think about what I’m doing. I am in the subway on my way to Cole’s apartment, and barely remember how I got there. The ride is short, and I have no coherent thoughts during the trip, just adrenaline and this white-hot feeling in my chest. When I get to his building, I go straight to the elevators like I still belong here. I arrive at his door and I don’t knock either.
I open the door.
I walk in.
I feel the crush of emotions he creates, and I smell him everywhere.
I am angry all over.
I rush down the hallway to find him standing at the living room window on the phone, his back to me, a white tee stretched across his broad shoulders, jeans hugging his powerful lower body. He looks deliciously male. His voice is deliciously rich. I hate that I notice. I hate that my heart races just being this near him. “No,” he says. “That’s unacceptable. We need a full record of—” He turns around and his eyes narrow on me. “I need to call you back.” He disconnects the line and shoves his phone in the pocket of his jeans.