FOK (Wall Street Royals) Read online

  “No. Two are studying abroad and one elected to live with his family in the city. He has a standing invitation to live here if he would like, but at the moment, he only requires a car and driver.” He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t recommend you commute daily from Virginia.”

  “Of course not,” she hastened to reply. “It’s only… I…” Damn. Why couldn’t she spit it out? Would he always be around? Hovering over her? Driving her to the brink of distraction with his mere presence?

  “You will have your own private suite of rooms and our chef will take care of any meals you want.” He gave her a knowing smile, and his eyes laughed at her. “It’s a large enough property you need not worry about running into anyone you don’t want to see.”

  She drew her shoulders back to ensure she stood as tall as possible and also to get back into her calm place. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to work around Lance Braxton. Talk about a crappy superpower.

  “What’s the point of me living here?” She asked. There had to be a way out of that item in the scholarship. Yes, it was a gorgeous mansion and no, it had never crossed her mind she might one day have the chance to live inside anything of the sort. Now that she did, she wasn’t sure she wanted the chance. Why spend four years living in such a place?

  “I was getting to that,” he said. “Because of my mother and grandmother’s involvement in the arts, the estate often holds charitable events. As you are one of our scholarship recipients, we will expect you to attend and to play at such events. Also, there are times artists on tour will need a place to stay while they are in the area, and we will invite them to stay here. Having another artist on site is a benefit.”

  The estate he called it. Interesting. “Does your grandmother live here?”

  “Yes, we both do. Although I have a residence in the city as well.”

  She kept her smile to herself, but inside her head, she whispered, “I knew it.” To him, she asked, “Does the guy who lives with his family attend these charity benefits as well?”

  “He does. In fact, the next one is happening in a few weeks. If you haven’t met him before, you can meet him then. His name is Michael, and he plays the cello.”

  She nodded, pleased to discover the living arrangements and appearances were precedence and not made-up on the spot in an attempt to keep her within arms reach. But wasn’t that a stupid thought to have had in the first place? To think he somehow had to create rules for his family’s scholarship to keep a woman nearby? Hadn’t she admitted to herself not over thirty minutes ago that he had no need to such a thing?

  She wondered if he was seeing anyone at the moment and if so did he bring her here or did they go to his city place? Would she pass his women in the hallways here? Could it be he hadn’t been referring to himself when he told her she would not be running into people she didn’t want to see? Did he mean his dates?

  And why the fuck did she care to begin with?

  “You look as though you have more questions.” Lance the ever-so-observant stated.

  “No,” she lied. “I’m good for now.”

  “Very well.” He gave her a stack of papers. “Here’s more in-depth paperwork for you to review on the scholarship and the contract. And if that doesn’t bore you to tears, I’ve also given you some history about the estate my grandmother’s assistant put together and that should do the trick. If you have questions, my number is in there somewhere. If not, once you sign everything and our lawyers receive it, you will be sent keys and a passcode and you can move in after that.” He held out his hand. “Congratulations, Ms. Walsh and welcome to the Murphy family.”

  Chapter Four

  “I’m beside myself that you’re taking me to the estate.” Victoria, the woman he’d been seeing for the last few weeks, grabbed Lance’s hand and looked expectantly out the car window.

  “It’s not that big of a deal,” he replied. “I have papers to pick up. Plus, I need to make sure my grandmother isn’t overdoing it and is resting instead of working herself into a frenzy over the benefit next weekend.”

  And Celeste had moved in yesterday according to the estate’s housekeeper, but he didn’t tell Victoria that bit of information. He hadn’t seen or heard from Celeste in over a month though he knew when she signed everything and when she enrolled for a summer class. He’d thought she would go back to Virginia for the summer and return in the fall. But he’d been wrong and pleasantly surprised when she did not.

  The driver turned the car onto the winding drive that led to his family home. As the massive structure came into view, Victoria squeezed his hand and gave a soft gasp. He’d probably fucked up by bringing her. Outside of a date to an event being held on the grounds, he rarely brought a woman here. This was his family home, his sanctuary.

  His place in the city was where he took the women he dated. Most of the women he dated were submissives and whenever he was in a mood to play, the penthouse held everything he could want.

  The truth was Victoria didn’t have to come with him today. He easily could have dropped her off either at her office or her apartment after they had a late breakfast, and he could have arrived by himself. Or he could have waited to come tomorrow. The only reason to come today and with Victoria was Celeste. Because he wanted to see her and he thought it might be easier to be around her if he had another woman with him.

  He was so fucked.

  “Damn,” Victoria said, leaning forward and looking around the driver. “What’s going on in the driveway up ahead? Do you know those people?”

  It was easy to spot Celeste, even wearing a pair of shorts and a cotton tee instead of the long dress she wore to the auditions. It was harder to figure out what was going on. Celeste gestured and pointed at a moving van, perhaps arguing with the van’s driver.

  They pulled closer and more of the scene became visible. Celeste turned and her expression took his breath. Yes, she was arguing, yet the look on her face wasn’t one of anger, but despair.

  Lance jumped out of the car the second it pulled to a stop. “Ms. Walsh?” he asked, almost jogging toward her.

  “Mr. Braxton.” She lifted her hand to brush the hair out of her eyes. He almost didn’t hear what she said next because he noticed how her hand trembled.

  “What’s going on?” Lance asked her and shot the man standing beside the van a warning look.

  “Your grandmother sent the van by my place this morning. She said she was having a few things brought to the estate this weekend so she wouldn’t have to deal with it next weekend. She knew I was moving in today and thought it made sense for the van to stop by my place first and bring my stuff.”

  He nodded. It made sense and not only that, but it sounded like his grandmother was taking the doctor’s advice. “So what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is it’s ninety-seven degrees out here, which means it’s much hotter in the van where my grandmother’s antique violin is, and that Neanderthal,” she jabbed her finger toward the guy beside the van, “won’t get it out and this heat will ruin it if it stays much longer.”

  Lance nodded at the guy. “What’s your problem? Get the violin.”

  “Mrs. Murphy told me I had to have this stuff down by the lake house and unloaded by one-thirty.” The man tapped his watch. “I can’t do that if I have to get the violin seeing as how we had to put it above the cab where nothing could crush into it or fall on it by accident.”

  “I’m Mrs. Murphy’s grandson, and I’ll handle any fallout if you’re late.” Lance walked the few steps to get right in the guy’s face. “She would be more distressed about how you treated a resident of the estate and that your actions damaged an antique instrument. Get the violin and apologize to Ms. Walsh.”

  “Mr. Braxton -” Celeste started, but he held up his hand and gave her his best don’t-even-think-about-saying-anything-right-now look.

  The driver grumbled under his breath, but he threw a quick, “Sorry, Miss,” to Celeste, before heading into his van to retrieve the instrument.
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  When she finally hugged the case to her chest, and the van disappeared, Lance called her over to where he’d stood watching. “Why did you give the violin to him in the first place? I would think if it’s so old and valuable, you’d want to transport it yourself.”

  “Ordinarily, I would have but I had a few stops to make before I came here and I didn’t want to carry it on the subway.”

  “The what?” He asked, certain he had heard wrong.

  “The subway. You know, public transportation.” She repeated. “What I took to run my errands before calling a cab to bring me here.”

  “You took the subway? Then a cab?” It was the most preposterous thing he’d ever heard. “I told you we have assigned a car and driver for you?”

  “Yes, but -”

  “Don’t ‘yes but’ me," He took a deep breath. “We gave you a car and driver for this very reason. Do you understand?” She nodded and fuck, no. That would never work. “Say it, Ms. Walsh. I want to hear you say the words.”

  “Yes, sir. I understand. Next time I need to go somewhere, I’ll call my driver.”

  “See that you do.” And with that, he turned and walked away.

  * * *

  Celeste stared at his back while Lance stopped by his car to gather the woman he arrived with and then headed into the house. What was it about the man that not only flustered her but also made her feel so defensive? And why the hell did she care he brought a woman with him?

  He was a wealthy good looking man who by his own admission, had lines of women waiting to be with him. And if all those women looked like the one on his arm today? Then there was no way he’d ever give her the time of day and only a fool would think otherwise.

  Over the last month, she’d discretely asked around about Lance. To her surprise, most of those she asked only knew about Lance, the businessman. A handful knew of his involvement with the arts, but no one knew anything about his personal life. After a few more dead ends, she’d given up.

  Since the moving guy wouldn’t return for at least an hour, she made her way back to the house, making sure she stayed well behind Lance and his date. Her plan worked, because once inside, she saw no trace of them. Not that it would have changed anything if she had. She needed to put her grandmother’s violin away in her room.

  Barbara had met her when she arrived earlier. The older woman had laughed when Celeste called her ‘Mrs. Murphy’ and said since they were family now, she’d only answer to Celeste calling her ‘Barbara’.

  Then she’d told Celeste that she wasn’t going to put her in the wing where the Juilliard students usually lived, because in her words, “the view of the gardens was inferior.” She said the three male students might not mind, but she was certain Celeste would find those rooms unsuitable.

  Celeste had only bitten back her laugh and followed her host to the other side of the house. Once they entered the spacious bedroom, Celeste agreed the view of the gardens was beautiful. Barbara smiled, patted her on the hand, and told her to make herself at home.

  What Celeste really wanted now that they had avoided the violin crisis, was to see if Lance’s room was closer to the where her room used to be or where it was now. She’d be willing to bet on the former. Not for one second did she buy all that talk about views and gardens. Barbara didn’t want her grandson to have easy access to Celeste’s pants. It was funny if you thought about it. Surely Barbara knew her grandson well enough to know it would take more than that to deter him from something he really wanted.

  Not that it mattered.

  He didn’t want her.

  Not that she cared.

  She didn’t. And the only reasons she was looking for his room were that she was trying to prove a point and she was bored. Or that’s what she told herself, anyway.

  From what she gathered on her quick tour with Barbara, bedrooms were located on two floors of the house. Since each floor had both an east and west side, there were four halls Lance could have a bedroom on.

  Currently, her room was on the second floor west side. Barbara’s was on the first floor west. Her old room was on second floor east, which meant if she was a detective, the first place she’d look for Lance was first floor east.

  She went down a back set of stairs so she could walk past Barbara’s room first. The closed door meant the older lady was more than likely napping. Uncertain of how long she’d sleep, Celeste hurried down the hall, then slowed, telling herself she needed to appear as if she was exploring her new home.

  Though thick vibrantly colored rugs covered the hardwood floors and paintings that were more than likely originals dotted the walls, they did not draw her attention at the moment.

  Entering the west side of the house, she felt a drop in the temperature. If this turned out to be Lance’s hallway, it seemed he enjoyed a lower AC setting than Barbara. For some reason that made her smile. Walking along, she noted most of the hall’s doors were closed. However, at the end, on the left side, was one open door. Just past the open door an exit led to the lake. Since the benefit next weekend would take place there, if anyone asked, she would say wanted to see the location.

  As she neared the open door, she heard whispers. A woman. She took a few more steps.

  “Not here,” Lance said from inside the room.

  Celeste froze in place. It was his room.

  “Please, sir,” a woman said. Was it the woman he arrived with earlier in the day?

  “Later,” Lance said, and the coldness of his tone surprised her. “I don't do that here.”

  The woman laughed softly. “You can turn it off and on like that?”

  “It is not your place to question me. I said no. Now get your bag and let’s go get in the car before I make you sorry you came.”

  Afraid of what might happen next, Celeste walked backward until she reached the stairs in between the two halls. Not interested in seeing either Lance, his woman, or the lake, she turned and headed to her own room.

  * * *

  “You, my friend, are fucked.”

  Lance looked up from his laptop and raised an eyebrow at his business partner, Isaac Gregory. He’d only been back in the office for about ten minutes since dropping Victoria off. “I usually am according to you. What dreadful sin have I committed today?”

  “Ring a bell?” Isaac held up a newspaper article with Celeste’s picture and detailing information about the scholarship.

  Lance shrugged, though Isaac wasn’t that easy to fool. “Ms. Walsh? The scholarship winner? And is that the gossip column? Really, Gregory? I thought you were too highbrow to read that section.”

  They worked well together as business partners. But the truth was, Isaac was much more conservative. He could be uptight. A stick in the mud. A killjoy.

  “For the last three years, the recipients have all been male. You take over the auditions because Barbara’s in the hospital, and the scholarship goes to a female? A female who looks like this?”

  “It’s inappropriate and offensive for you to talk about Ms. Walsh in that manner.”

  Isaac leveled his gaze at Lance. “You’re probably able to fool many people with that line, but I’ve known you for too long. I suppose she’ll be at the benefit this weekend?”

  Lance nodded.

  Isaac stroked his chin. “Maybe I’ll ask her to dance with me.”

  Just the thought of Isaac’s hands on Celeste made his blood pressure rise, and he snapped the pencil in his hand into two pieces.

  Isaac snorted. “That’s what I thought. Tell me, did the two of you coordinate your masks?”

  “Shit.” Lance slammed the top of his desk with his fist. He’d forgotten the benefit was a masquerade. And because he’d forgotten, Celeste had never been told. He doubted his grandmother had informed her either. He knew Richard hadn’t.

  Of course, Isaac picked up on this and thought it hilarious. “You forgot it was a masked benefit?”

  “Yes, damn it, and I know Celeste won’t have anything to wear.” Fuck. There wasn
’t time to have a mask made.

  “Ah, hell.” Isaac said, pulling out his phone and texting someone. “If it was only your sorry ass, I wouldn’t care, but Celeste did nothing to deserve this. Have Nikki call Lillian and she’ll help you.” He finished his text and slid his phone back into his pocket. “All done. I’ll catch you later. I have a meeting in ten.”

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

  Once Isaac left, Lance stuck his head out of his office door. Nikki, his admin, was on the phone, like always. She noticed him watching and got off.

  “Can I get something for you?” she asked. Like he’d done something wrong by making her end her call and do actual work.

  “See if Lillian is available for a call later today.” Lillian was Isaac’s personal assistant. Lance wasn’t sure what the man had done to deserve a personal assistant like her, but she was known far and wide as being the best in the business. Which, now that he thought about it, made sense because Isaac was likewise known as the best.

  Nikki nodded. “I’ll let you know.”

  She buzzed him back seconds later and, with too much glee in her voice, told him Lillian could talk right now, but not to even think about calling her in thirty minutes because she had actual work to do and she couldn’t spend her entire day digging him out of messes he wouldn’t be in to start with if he’d get his head out of his ass.

  Words only Lillian could get away with saying. One perk of being the best.

  Lillian answered her phone on the first ring.

  “Isaac already called you, hasn’t he?” Lance said by way of greeting.

  “Yes,” she said over a large amount of background noise. “He told me everything. And don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure Celeste looks divine.”

  Chapter Five

  The morning of the benefit, Lance busied himself in the gym he and Isaac had added to their office years ago. During the week at this time of the morning, employees would crowd the place, but today was a Saturday allowing him to work out with only his own thoughts to keep him company.