"Leave my family out of this," she says through clenched teeth as her body trembles.
"You can either tell me or I'll find out on my own."
She instantly sags against the seat and her balled up hands rub at her eyes. After a long pause, she begins. "My dad died in a car wreck while I was at Crestview. I was only twelve."
"I don't remember that."
"You probably weren't there then," she says.
"Yeah, I was. I started Crestview when I was eleven."
"Well, Dad was killed in a car accident and left behind a ton of debt. Mom sold the big house, moved us to a smaller one, and we managed. Or I thought we did. I wanted to transfer to the public school, but she preferred I stay at Crestview. I did it to make her happy. It was stupid, because it added to her mounting debt. She mortgaged the house to the hilt. She hid it from me and I had no idea how bad it was. Then came MIT. Even then she never let on." She pauses, shaking her head to herself, even as her hands clench.
"After I graduated, I landed a job in California. I was doing well and could've helped, but she pretended everything was great … until she got sick. It was ALS. She was ill for almost three years, which was why I moved back to Virginia-to care for her. The bills were enormous still. I gave up my job and didn't have any income to cover everything, even after selling the house."
She goes into detail of how she stayed with her mother until the end. Vivi gave up an exploding career to care for her dying mother. But the two plus years she spent in Virginia were the nail on the coffin of Vivi's career and her rise up the ladder to success. Now no one wants to hire her, and I get that. It's hard to bring someone back into the fold after they've lost the momentum of growth and been away from the industry for that length of time. It's not impossible, but it's especially true of the tech industry where things change at the speed of light. If you have a huge gap and you're behind the eight ball, oftentimes you need a door opener. And Vivi doesn't have one. Or she didn't-until me.
"So that's why I was selling one of Mom's bracelets. It was one of two pieces I have left."
"Why didn't you come to me?" It bothers me she didn't.
She glares at me. "I don't want to owe you anything, because then you can show up and collect any time you want."
"No. That's not … I'd never do that." It's disappointing she thinks of me that way.
The car comes to a stop and I see we've arrived at our destination. "Let's talk about this over dinner."
They're crowded, so I use my persuasive skills-also known as bribery-and score us a table. After we're seated, Vivi shoots me a pointed stare and asks, "Do you always do this?"
"Do what?"
"Hand out money like candy?"
"Like I told you before, only when it achieves the desired outcome. We were in need of a table and a couple of c-notes did the trick."
"A couple of c-notes. What about all those people who were here before us?"
I shrug. "They were welcome to pass the host a few bucks, too."
She glares at me in disgust. It's obvious she has a disdain for the way I throw money around. "Maybe they didn't have a few bucks."
"The host had the option of saying no, too, you know. He's the one who should carry the blame. After all, he knew there were people waiting longer than us."
This hits home and it's an inarguable point. She sits back and sips her water.
"I know you have a great disdain for my money, but I don't understand why. Help me get there."
"It's not the money. It's how you use it."
"Vivi, I'm willing to help you, no strings attached. I'm serious."
The waiter comes by and takes our order. Vivi gawks as I order enough food for ten. She's hungry and what we don't eat, she can take home.
"Do you actually plan to eat everything you ordered?" she asks.
"I have a large appetite and wanted to sample a few things. We can share. You can take home the rest."
She nods, but the skepticism stays in her eyes.
"So, can we come to some sort of agreement, Vivi?"
"What kind of agreement?"
"You'll let me help you without any conditions whatsoever, and as friends only." I nearly groan when the words come out of my mouth. How did I all of a sudden turn into a fucking boy scout?
Realistically, there is no way in hell I plan on hanging around Vivi Renard without trying to get her into my bed. But I'd never blackmail her into it. I fully plan on using other ways to convince her. Plain and simple, I have one goal and that is to fuck Vivi until she begs for mercy, or better yet, for more. And when she does, she'll do it willingly.
Chapter 9
Vivi
Why is he being so damned considerate all of a sudden? My last couple of encounters with him weren't like this at all. What happened to asshole Prescott-the guy who thinks he owns everyone? Asshole Prescott is self-serving and domineering. Which makes me wonder what happened to the guy I remember from high school. Sure, he was sort of full of himself back then, but in his own way, he was always decent to me. Yeah, he needed me and used me, but still. This sudden consideration for my well-being reminds me of that kid, just a little. At least more than asshole Prescott, anyway. In any case, I have to respond to his proposal.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think that's possible."
His eyes bore a hole into me. The urge to flinch is as strong as if I'd suddenly been stung by a wasp. By sheer force of will, I stand firm. Actually, I have to press my legs together and remind myself that running out of here like my hair's on fire will accomplish nothing. Folding my hands, I place them in my lap and clench them tightly together.
His unrelenting glare doesn't cease. Neither does mine. I won't back down and lose this game he likes to play. I won't allow him to make me the weaker one at this table. My hands turn numb from the pressure, but I don't care.
Finally, his lids shutter his gaze and I relax a bit.
"You surprise me, Vivi."
"Me? Why?"
"You're different."
"How?" I ask. I'm curious to hear his reply.
There are a few things about me that have changed since he knew me. My physical appearance for one, but I'm also no longer the demure girl he once knew.
When I got to MIT, I recognized in order to get ahead in the world, I needed to be more assertive. That's when I grew a backbone. It wasn't easy by any means. At first, it was a stretch to sit in front of the class instead of the back where I was most comfortable. I nearly had anxiety attacks over taking the lead on class projects. Yet, in continually forcing myself to become the person I wanted to be, it became easier to be that person over time.
That's also when the pounds dropped off. I worried less over what I was putting in my mouth and more about what was important to me. The weight came off gradually and by the time two years passed, I was down six sizes.
"Your appearance, for one. But you're … stronger, too."
"I should hope so. That girl you knew in high school was bullied, and let herself continually be." I shake my head in disgust. "It probably didn't matter to you then. It makes sense. You were so caught up in your own popularity. The wonderful Prescott Beckham. All you had to do was smile and it set all the girls' panties on fire. One click of your fingers and off they'd run."
I don't mean to sound so bitter, but every time I think of those nasty bitches and how awful they made me feel, the emotions roll out of me uncontrollably.
"You act like it's my fault. I never did anything they didn't want."
I blow out a long breath. "No, you didn't. And to be fair, you were never mean to me. But you lived in your own cushy little world, Prescott. I'm sorry. My memories of Crestview aren't exactly as warm and fuzzy as yours."
His unyielding stare is back. "What makes you think my years there were warm and fuzzy?"
"Are you kidding me? You were the guy every girl wanted. Why wouldn't they have been?"
He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "So just because all the girls wanted me means I was happy?"
"Well, you always looked happy."
His eyes narrow. "You never looked unhappy. And just so you know, I never saw those girls bully you. I wasn't just ignoring it. I was unaware of it. If I had seen it, I would've done something about it."
Is he fucking kidding me?
The whole school knew about it. Even the administration was aware of it, only they never did anything because of how much money those girls' parents funneled into Crestview. My locker had shit covering it every day and on more than one occasion I saw the principal silently watch those girls do their elephant imitation of me.
"I'm not going to get into a debate over this, but you must've been blind not to have seen their elephant imitation of me. And don't tell me you don't remember how fat I was."