Yes, Mr. Van Der Wells (Not Another Billionaire Romance) (17 page)

Oh, God. And here I am taking away her job. No wonder she’s so mad about Noah hiring me. “Gloriel, I-I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have…I can quit. It’s no big deal.”

Her hand goes up to stop me. “No, no dear. Don’t do that. I’m just a whiny old bat.” For a minute she studies me, then her eyes brighten as she clasps her hands in front of her. “How about you let me take care of
you
?”

Huh
? I don’t get a chance to ask what she means because the elevator pings, and I can hear Kiera on her phone, sounding nettled. “…
told
you that if I hear from her you’ll be the first to know…
Yes,
Andrew…I don’t know, but I’ll keep you posted. Gotta go.”

I’m in the foyer and pouncing on her before she can pocket her phone. “Kiki!”

Caught by surprise, she stumbles back as I slam into her. Regaining her balance, she laughs out, “Nice to know you actually
miss
me.”

Pulling away from her, I smack her arm. “Are you kidding me? Of course, I missed you!”

Kiera Noel is part Trinidadian, part French; her Mom the Trinidadian, her Dad the French. With flawless mocha complexion and so-light-brown-they-could-be-gold irises, she’s not slim, not too thick either, having just the right size that renders her some ridiculous curves and a booty to match. Her hair, almost as mocha as her complexion, is what I envy the most: natural curls, arm-pit length, soft and pretty, and encourages finger combing; tight and bouncy when it’s washed and left as is, loose and wavy when given some TLC. She has an arresting beauty and could pass as the thicker, curvier version of Eva Marcille.

Back in school, Kiera was the unique one. We never paid her much attention because she wasn’t thin like us, or blonde like us, or blended in like us. Sadly, when we’re younger, we don’t realize that being unique is a precious gift. Because now, as I stare at her, I can admit that while we all looked the same, she was the masterpiece that stood out. The gem in our posse I was too blind to see.

“Well, I wouldn’t have guessed from the way you’ve been giving me the runaround,” she says, thinning her lips. “Why didn’t you just tell me you were living with Nate? I wouldn’t have worried so much. Nate would never touch a hair on your head.”

I heave out a sigh. “Long story.” Then I frown. “Wait, was does
that
mean?”

But she’s already looking over my shoulder. “Hey, Mrs. Van der Wells!”

Gloriel breezes past me and pulls Kiera in for a hug. “Kiera, dear.” She pulls back and smacks Kiera on the arm like I did. “I’m tired of telling you to call me
Gloriel
. How is your father doing?”

“Miserable as all get out.”

Gloriel laughs out loud. “That’s Noel every day of the week. Come, come. Charlotte and I were just unpacking some groceries. But you two can go ahead and relax on the balcony, and I’ll bake you girls some turnovers.”

As Kiera starts to object, I discreetly elbow her. She lets out a grunt and I cover with, “We’d love some turnovers, Gloriel. As long as there are no apples or nuts involved. Kiera is allergic.”

Gloriel appears so delighted by this new task that I’m left feeling a little worried for her. We all have our own brand of loneliness. Mom had nothing but sickness and a daughter who cared. Gloriel has everything; health, wealth and a son who cares. Yet her loneliness resembles my mother’s in so many ways.

Grabbing Kiera’s hand, I haul her off to my room.

“Was that Andrew on the phone?” I ask the second the door closes behind us.

“Dope help quarters,” Kiera comments with a smirk. “Are you sure the only thing you’re shining here are floors?”

I make a face. “Disgusting much? So, was that Andrew or not?”

“Yep. Dude’s annoying the shit out of me,” she answers distractedly, touching things, opening drawers. “What’s it like living with Nate Van Der Wells? He’s transformed into such an unattainable stud. Chased hard and never caught. The big fish in the sea every woman wants to hook, reel in, and scale. Me included. I mean, have you seen that man’s chest? I could just straddle that chest and rub myself against it until I come and all will be right with the world.”

And this is Kiera. How are you liking her so far? This chick. Always horny. Almost every other sentence that comes out her mouth is an innuendo to something sexual. A total commitment-phobe. You couldn’t tell she’s a nymphomaniac by looking at her, but she’s a shameless one. A nasty Scorpio. To the core.

Walking to the dresser to grab a pair of shorts and a tee, I question with a smack of jealousy, “When did you get to see his chest? And what did Andrew want?”

“Who
hasn’t
seen Nate’s chest?” she returns, incredulous. “He jogs for miles every morning almost naked, and never wastes an opportunity to go shirtless. It’s like a big ole ‘
Look at me now, bitches!’
to the world.”

Zipping out of my uniform, I giggle.

“As for your ex, he’s just freaking out because he can’t find you. He calls me like a billion times a day asking if I’ve learned anything new.” She stops perusing the room and turns to me, crossing her arms over her chest. A fun lime-green dress and some killer wedge heels, her curls falling around her face, large golden hoop earrings going faultlessly with her skin tone and eye color. “Speaking of, you mind telling me what the fudge happened?”

Delaying, bracing, I take my time changing from my uniform to jean shorts and tee. Moving to the opposite side of the bed, putting distance between us, I let my hands fall and dangle at my sides, then, taking a breath, I confess, “He hits me, Kiki.”

Kiera blinks. “What do you mean?” A small crease forms between her eyebrows. “Did you, like, get in a fight or something?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Kiki, he beats the shit out of me for everything and nothing. He takes away my privileges. He cheats, all the time, and I’m forced to accept it, because if I say anything about it, he hits me for saying something about it.”

My best friend stares at me. I can see how this kind of thing might sound foreign to her. She stares and stares, until tears pool in her eyes. “How long?” Her voice is nothing but a rasp of air. “How long has he been…doing that to you?”

“About a year?” Shamefaced, I drop my head and mutter, “First time it happened was around three months after we started dating. My life has been hell since then.”

Kiera’s chin hits her chest. “A
year
? You’ve been going through this for a
year
and you’ve said
nothing
to me?”

“Kiki, I—“

“I’m your best friend!” she explodes, the tears rolling now. “I’m supposed to know these things! I’m supposed to…I’m supposed to be there to help you, to protect you! And you…you hid…” She hiccups a sob and clutches her stomach, then shakily lowers herself the edge of the bed.

Rushing around the bed, I sit down beside her, taking her hand in mine, and before I can speak, she whispers, “I should have picked up on it. I’m such a horrible friend. The signs were there. No cellphone, how bossy and possessive he was with you—which I naively thought was hot—the hostility between him and Graham…for crying out loud, he proposed to you in a cemetery at your mother’s
graveside
. How could I have been so blind?”

“Hey, it’s not your fault the guy’s an asshole. Don’t worry about it. I got away…for now. I just need to save up enough money to keep me afloat for at least the first six months in Brazil while I—“

“Wait,
what
?” Kiera tugs her hand from mine and blinks watery eyes at me. “
Brazil
?”

A sigh flows through my nostrils. “You don’t know him, Kiki. He’ll
never stop searching. Not because he loves me, but because he wants to teach me a lesson, like he does every time I try to run, because he thinks he owns me. This time I might end up in a body bag.
I have to leave
. Do you understand that?”

Kiera springs to her feet. “No, I do
not
understand. He’s a filthy, woman-beating scum. He’s not as powerful as he makes you believe. We can protect you.”

“We?”

“Yes!” She stomps her foot like a toddler. “Me, Nate, Graham, all of us. We’ll keep you safe. You don’t have to leave, Lotty. You can’t let him dictate where or how you live.”

There’s a short knock on the door, and a second later Gloriel pops her head in. Concern creases her forehead. “Is everything alright, girls?”

Eyes zooming in on Kiera who’s frantically wiping her tears, she pushes the door wider open and steps in. As she begins to open her mouth, Kiera blurts, “She wants to leave me! She’s moving to Brazil.” 

Gloriel’s widening eyes shift to me. “You are? What about law school?”

“There are law schools in Brazil,” I answer.

Her worried gaze shifts from me to Kiera, and then back to me. “Why—”

“Mom died,” I blurt.

“What? When?”

Now this concern I know for sure isn’t genuine. “A few weeks ago. And I know you loathe Mom, so you don’t have to pretend you care. But she’s gone. And I need to be with my family.”

“Do they even
want
you?” Kiera snaps. “Where have they been all this time? How many of them showed up to her goddamn funeral? At least you know you’re wanted here.”

“By who?!” I scream in her face. “
Who
wants me? One mistake. Dad made one mistake, and then everyone vilified him and turned their backs on us! Why would I want to be here after that?”

Never the one to back down, Kiera meets me nose-to-nose. “I’ve always been there for you, you ungrateful wretch. I never told anyone where you were. I’ve had to sit back and watch you suffer because of your pride. I’ve never turned my back on you.
Never
. Nor will I ever.”

“I never asked you be there. Nor do I want you to be,” I lie. “I’m a
housemaid
now, Kiki. Just like my mother was—the woman you all love to hate. See? Like mother, like daughter. Go hang with friends of your strata.” 

Her head jerks back as if I’ve slapped her. Her mouth opens to fire a retort, but then she snaps it shut, her eyes narrowing as she catches on. “I know what you’re trying to do. But, girl, I’m like belly fat, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” She spins to Gloriel. “She’s not leaving because she wants to be with her so-called family, she’s leaving because her boyfriend who’s been abusing her for a year is hunting her down. She’s
running
. Like a
coward
.”

“Oh, my God,” Gloriel gasps, clutching her necklace.

I never meant what I said to Kiera a moment ago, but in this moment, I hate her. Does she have any idea how much it took out of me to admit that to her? How mortified I am about it? And she just blurts it out to Gloriel like the last juicy piece of news on Jerry Springer. This is what I did not miss about these people, the insensitivity.

Whirling on my heels, I stalk to my closet, grab my purse, and storm right through the both of them.

“Lotty, shit, I’m sor—”

“I have nothing to say to you, Kiki.”

“Charlotte—”

“I’ll be back for turnovers, Gloriel.”

Not looking back is the only way I’m able walk out of that room with a smidge of strength and pride left.

Just as I reach the elevator, it pings opens, revealing a giant of a man clad in all-black, about to step out. African-American. Striking hazel eyes. Muscles for days. A chest like King-Kong’s. A body I’d love the opportunity to climb and swing like an insatiable monkey.

‘
Holy batman blackman hotman
!’ Reckless Lotty swoons. ‘
Who’s he
?’

‘
Annnnnnnd she’s wet for yet another man
,’ Rational Lotty comments dryly. ‘
I can’t. I just can’t. The only thing I wanna know is: just how many people have keys to this place
?’

Alert hazel eyes zone in on me, scan me. “You Charlotte Cooley?”

I’m so mad, head clouded with red-smoke rage from Kiera’s betrayal of confidence, that I forget Andrew is still after me, and I confirm instead of deny I’m Charlotte Cooley. “Yeah. Who’s asking?”

“Muscles. Your new body guard.” He dips inside his pocket and comes up with an iPhone. “My numbers are in here. You use this phone
only
to call me, nothing else. I live in the building. You don’t ever leave it without me. You do, you pay the consequences. You plan to go out with more than one friend, you let me know beforehand so I can arrange for a second guard. Any questions?”

Giving him a slow, appreciative rake over, I step into the elevator. “Yeah. What cologne are you wearing?”

Seemingly surprised by this question, he gives me a strange look before shifting out of my space and answering, “Guess.”

I hit the down button. “If I wanted to guess I wouldn’t have asked, Black Goliath.” 

One side of his mouth twitches as he corrects, “No, I mean
Guess
, by Marciano.”

“Oh.” I tip my back to meet his intrigued eyes. “Well, you smell yummy. You
look
yummy, too. I won’t mind you following me around, Black Goliath. I won’t mind at all.”

As if unable to help it this time, he turns his attention straight ahead, bites his lip, and smiles.