Mr. Misunderstood Page 3

  I know better than to share my thoughts out loud. Revisiting the past won’t change the present. And his foster parents paid for what they did to him. Not enough. But there was an attempt at justice, if not revenge.

  “Are you going to pay her off and make it go away?” I ask. I don’t need to know how much she wants. Gavin can afford to pay her blackmail. It will piss him off. He hates giving in. But it will make the problem disappear.

  “I haven’t decided,” he says. “She’s asking for a lot.”

  “You can afford it.”

  Money changes everything. Not always for the better. I’ve learned that the hard way too. But for Gavin? Money changed how the world saw him. And I think it might have saved him.

  He looks at me. His expression is hard and his jaw taut. But there is a hint of fear in his eyes. He reminds me of a wary animal, a pup who has spent too much time in a shelter and no longer trusts the world beyond the cage.

  “What if the money doesn’t make it go away?” he asks. “She has a fuc—a freaking picture. And it gets worse.”

  Worse than visual proof of his most humiliating moments? And no, I’m not thinking about the sex tape right now. There was nothing embarrassing about that—at least not for him. I only watched a few seconds. And I can feel my cheeks warming just thinking about it.

  “So much worse,” he murmurs, more to himself now than me.

  “How bad?” I whisper. “How much does she know?”

  “I think she knows my real name.” He turns his handsome face toward me. “What if she can connect the pieces?”

  The Gavin Black Billionaire Playboy mask he presents to the world has been stripped away. His dark eyes are haunted. I see a cornered man offering a rare glimpse inside his soul. And for the first time in years, I wonder if he struggles to keep the image in place. Does he ever let his guard down? With his parade of girlfriends? With his friends from work?

  “Would it be so bad?” I ask softly. “If everyone learned the truth?”

  “Yes.” He springs to his feet and begins pacing the waiting room. “There are three people who know my full story. You. Margaret, the head of my PR Company, and my lawyer.”

  “And now Alexandra. Although I’m not sure that is her real name.” I steal a glance at the exam room door. “Have you called Margaret?”

  He shakes his head. “I’m not talking to Margaret and her PR gurus until I have a plan. Then I’ll get her team of private eyes to find out every detail of Alexandra’s life.”

  “I think you should call her right now.”

  He stops in the middle of the room. “I know what she’s going to say. She’s been after me to tone down the “Alpha Male” image.” He makes air quotes as he says the words. “She thinks I’ll get more press, and land more endorsement deals, if I show my softer side.”

  I can’t help it. I laugh. My best friend’s in crisis and my dog’s in surgery, but I can’t keep the giggles at bay.

  “Stop,” he grumbles. “Those are her words. Not mine. I don’t think of myself like that … I’m not trying to be a fucking Alpha Male.”

  I let the F-bomb slip. I have too many questions about his publicist’s suggestions. “And how does Margaret propose that you transform into a soft and cuddly male?”

  He runs a hand through his stubble. He keeps his gaze fixed on the floor, or the wall, refusing to look at me again. He’s already let me see too much.

  “She wants me to settle down,” he mutters.

  He’s on the brink of pulling back and shutting me out. If he does that, he’ll be completely alone. I can’t let that happen. When I was at my worst, Gavin came and put me back together.

  “I’m going to help you fix this,” I promise. “Together we’ll make Alexandra’s threat disappear.”

  “You have a plan?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest. But he’s looking at me again. That’s a good sign.

  “I’m thinking.” What does he expect? It’s nearly one in the morning. I think. I haven’t actually checked the time since before Luna was shot. For all I know, she’s been in surgery five minutes. But it feels like we’ve been waiting for an hour. How long have we been discussing Gavin’s distraction? I was so caught up in his problem that I’ve lost all sense of time.

  That’s the hallmark of a good distraction.

  “That’s it.” My eyes widen as the pieces click together. “You need a bigger distraction.”

  He shakes his head. “I thought of that too. But I don’t have a product ready to launch. And the next line of software won’t exactly grab everyone’s interest. It’s not like I’m releasing something sexy, like an iPhone.”

  “Not that type of distraction.” I stand and start pacing the room. Some of my best thinking happens when I move. “I think your publicist was right about your personal life. If you announced your engagement, you could dismiss Alexandra’s claims as the wild antics of a jealous and scorned ex, whom you dumped when you fell in love at first sight.”

  “Romantic,” Gavin says dryly. “But my last relationship led to blackmail. I don’t think I can be trusted to find a wife right now.”

  “You don’t need to actually marry her,” I say. “Just pretend for a while. You can hire someone to play the part. Find an actress.”

  “I think when physical intimacy and false engagements are involved, the actress is defined as an escort. Margaret will have a heart attack if word gets out that I hired a fake fiancée. And it will get out.”

  “Then find a volunteer. Or, I don’t know, make it real? Propose to someone and then break it off.” I can hear the exasperation in my voice. But really, I came up with a solid solution to his problem.

  “I can’t do that,” he says firmly. “It wouldn’t be fair to the woman. To trick her like that.”

  “This is your best shot at controlling the story in my opinion.” I place my hands on my hips and steal another glance at the door to the exam room. “If you don’t like it, call Margaret. But think about this. You don’t even need to tell your PR Company that you were blackmailed. You could let them find out about the picture along with the rest of the world, if Alexandra follows through with her threat. They would also think you had a crazy, ranting jealous ex.”

  He’s nodding now. “It would give me control over the story. You’re right.”

  “Of course I am. Now you just need to find a woman willing to play the part of your fiancée for a few months.”

  I hear sounds from the other side of the exam room door. Then the knob turns.

  “Maybe I already have,” he murmurs.

  I know he is looking at me. I can see him out of the corner of my eye. But I don’t have time to set him straight because the vet is walking through the open door. Dr. Marianne has my complete attention now.

  “Is she ok?” I demand. “Did Luna make it?”

  “She’s going to be fine,” Marianne assures me. “I didn’t see any sign of a bullet. There was an entry and exit wound …”

  The vet continues, but I’m barely catching the words. Black dots cloud my vision. I place my hands on my thighs and bend over. My heart is hammering. I can’t seem to get enough air.

  “You need to sit down.” I hear Gavin’s words and feel his hands on my shoulder. He pushes me back into a chair. His hand is at the back of my neck, pressing my head down between my knees. “Just breathe.”

  “I was so scared,” I whisper.

  “I know,” he murmurs. “I know, Kayla.”

  But he can’t possibly know. He doesn’t have pets. There’s no room in his crazy city life for rescue animals that rescue you right back.

  Slowly, I lift my head. Gavin’s no longer sitting beside me. He’s talking to the vet and typing something on his phone. The follow-up instructions, I’m guessing. Then he pulls out a credit card and hands it over.

  “Thank you,” I say. My voice is breathless and shaky.

  He glances over his shoulder. “Head between your knees. Until your heart stops pounding and you’r
e no longer dizzy. Then I’ll take you in to see Luna before we head to your place. In the morning, we can see about picking her up and bringing her home.”

  I nod and lower my head again. He’s right. I’m still close to fainting. The relief is overwhelming. If Gavin hadn’t been here, I probably would have passed out on the waiting room floor.

  He is staying until tomorrow. He’s going to help bring her home.

  “Thank you,” I whisper again. But I don’t think he hears me. He’s talking to the vet again. Then he’s by my side, helping me rise from the chair. Honestly, he’s practically carrying me into the exam room.

  “I owe you,” I say.

  “We don’t keep score, remember? That’s not how this works.”

  “I know.” There are some debts you can never repay, so why keep track? “But I’m glad you’re here. And I promise I’ll help you find a fake fiancée.”

  There must be a woman out there willing to play the part. Not me. It could never be me. I’ll make that clear before he returns to Manhattan. But I won’t tell him why. He doesn’t need to know I’m afraid of losing my heart to the man behind the Gavin Black mask.

  CHAPTER 4

  KAYLA

  “Someone shot at my fiancée last night.”

  I hear the words before I push through the screen door leading to my kitchen. I pause, hand on the doorframe. Confusion mingles with a severe lack of morning coffee. The effect clouds my understanding of the scene unfolding in front of me.

  Three uniformed officers stand by my kitchen table. Gavin paces in front of them. Ginger, an old tabby cat I rescued right after my divorce, darts back and forth in his path, trying to divert Gavin’s attention to her food dish. But he just keeps talking, tossing out words like “investigation” and “arrest.”

  And fiancée. That’s twice now.

  I frown.

  Twenty minutes ago, I filled my mug with a quarter cup of Joe. Then I ordered Gavin to make a fresh pot with enough caffeine to meet both our needs, and I took my dogs for a walk. And yes, I ignored his orders to stay near the house in case the shooter returned. I walked my usual loop around the falling-down red barn, which marked the property boundary between my house and Gavin’s country mansion. Somehow, while I was out with my dogs, minus poor Luna who’d spent the night at the vet’s office, Gavin had acquired his fake fiancée.

  The woman who’d been shot at last night while walking her dog.

  “Damn you, Gavin,” I mutter.

  I push open the door and quickly step inside. I leave the dogs in the yard. This section, near the back door, is fenced. And the last thing this early morning scene needs is a rescue pup accidentally mistaking a policeman’s pant leg for her post-breakfast snack.

  I make a beeline for the coffee pot. Before I confront the officers and the man who cast me in a role I did not agree to play, I need a full mug, or maybe a caffeine I.V. after my restless night worrying about Luna.

  “Kayla, sweetheart, you’re back,” Gavin says.

  I turn to face him. “Yes, sweetheart, I am.”

  If he missed the warning in my echoed endearment, he’s a fool. I can think of a long list of words to describe Gavin. Pushy. Controlling. Annoying. Coffee hog. But he’s not a fool. He wanted me to play the part. Instead of trying to convince me, he went public with his plan.

  “I called the police to file a report about last night’s shooting,” Gavin continues. “I let the vet know that we’d handle it first thing.”

  “Thanks for coming by, Lucie,” I say with a nod to the deputy chief of police for our quiet, country town. I turn to the other two officers. “Good to see you, Mac. You too, Jay. Can I offer you some coffee?”

  “We’re good,” Lucie says. “Why don’t we all sit down and you can tell us exactly what happened. Mr. Black claims someone shot at you and hit one of your dogs.”

  Of course Lucie would call him Mr. Black with a note of reverence in her voice. Gavin sponsored the town’s new police station and donated the funds to buy a fleet of patrol cars. Still, she’s not the one who will leak the news about the local billionaire’s engagement to his reclusive neighbor. No, I’m willing to bet a week’s worth of dog food that Jay will spread the gossip far and wide.

  But I will let Gavin fix that later. He can explain why he suddenly has a crazy ex-girlfriend, an ex-fiancée of less than twenty-four hours, and a new fake fiancée …

  I sigh as I sink into the chair. No one will believe Gavin went through two fiancées in a day or two. He knew this plan would work, which is why he followed this path in the first place. There is no one on this planet more adverse to failure than Gavin Black.

  Lucie takes the seat at the head of my six-person wooden table. Her blond hair is pulled back into a perfect bun. She perches on the edge of the chair with the grace of a ballerina. I like the deputy. She’s always direct and gets right down to business. Plus, she owns a retired and half-blind former police dog.

  Now, thanks to Gavin, I’m lying to Lucie about my love life. My Annoyed-At-Gavin meter rises. The deputy is one of the few friends I’ve made since moving to this small town after my divorce. I know a lot of people here in a say-hello-in-the-grocery-store way. But I can count about five women, including Lucie, who would meet me for a dog walk or a glass of wine. My ex-husband cut me off from my pre-marriage girlfriends. Making new ones hasn’t exactly been easy.

  Lucie pulls out a pocket-sized, spiral notebook and a pen. Jay and Mac claim seats across from me.

  “What time did you take Luna out last night?” Lucie asks.

  “We went out around eleven in the evening,” I begin. Then I explain about Luna’s peeing on the floor problem. I describe the deer and the surprising gunshot.

  “You suspect a hunter?” Jay jumps in. “Out at eleven at night?”

  I nod. “I can’t think of another reason someone would shoot at me or my dogs.”

  “We haven’t had any reports of hunting off season,” Lucie says, closing her notebook. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t happening.”

  “At night, though?” Jay shakes his head. “That’s just plain stupid. You can’t even see the deer at night.”

  Mac’s brow furrows. He’s the more recent addition to the force. Young, but thoughtful. “Is it possible someone was trying to target Mr. Black?”

  I shake my head. “He didn’t arrive until after Luna was shot. I’d already called Marianne at Loving Paws Vet Clinic by then. And I wasn’t expecting him.”

  “I came up on a whim,” Gavin says, pausing behind my chair. He places his hands on the back.

  I look up at him. His expression is a mask of concern. But I recognize the playful spark in his eyes. The coffee somersaults in my stomach. Part of me wants to send him out to feed the dogs, even though I gave them breakfast first thing this morning. I want to kick him out of the room because I know I’m not going to like what comes out of his mouth next.

  “I found Kayla covered in blood and something inside me snapped,” he continues. Then he pauses and closes his eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about if she’d been shot. What if I’d lost her?”

  I steal a glance at the trio of cops in my kitchen. They are swallowing his morning dose of melodrama. Suddenly, I realize where he’s heading with this story. He’s testing his version of events.

  I saw my best friend covered in blood and realized that I never told her how I feel about her … I never told her that I love her … So I proposed …

  I give him a warning look that screams Don’t do it Gavin. His eyes are open now. He’s glancing from me to his audience and then his gaze returns to me.

  “Gavin,” I begin. Outside Ava, my five-year-old German Shepard hound mix, begins to bark. Cleveland, my terrier puppy, joins in, his sharp, high-pitch yaps signaling his desire to enter the house. “Can you go let the dogs in while I finish with the officers? I’ll take them out through the front.”

  “They can—”

  “Please, sweetheart?”

  He smil
es. “Of course.” He holds his hand out to the deputy chief. Lucie is on her feet now. “Nice to see you, ma’am,” he says, speaking loud enough for his voice to carry over the symphony of barking dogs. “I hope you will keep us informed about your investigation.”

  “Yes, Mr. Black.” Lucie shakes his hand and then turns to me.

  “This way.” I motion for the officers to follow me. We head down the narrow hall. The barking fades as we reach the modest living room and front entry. I pull open the door and hold it for the officers. While I appreciate their efforts, I know the chance of catching the illegal hunter is slim to none. “I’ll be stopping by Marianne’s office to pick up Luna today. Should I let her know you’ll be in touch?”

  “Yes.” Lucie nods. Then her lips form a rare smile. “Congratulations on your engagement. We’ll have to meet up for a glass of wine on my next day off. I can’t wait to hear the full story.”

  Me neither.

  “Thanks,” I murmur. “But I’m really focused on Luna right now. I just want to get my girl home.”

  “I understand,” Lucie says. “I can’t imagine if something like this happened to my Bella. I promise we’ll do everything we can to find out who is behind this incident. You can tell your fiancé that we’ll be back to look for evidence on his property. I appreciate his permission and his offer to fund the forensic team. But we are up to the job without calling in the cavalry from the city.”

  “Of course. I know you’ll do your best, Lucie.”

  Finally, I get all three officers out the door and heading to their patrol car. Then I turn for the kitchen. The barking has stopped. Gavin must have let the dogs in. They’re probably gathered around him, begging for treats. He’s a complete pushover when it comes to my pets, dolling out biscuits like candy. And they love him for it.

  I pause in the hallway and prepare to have a few words with my best friend. Where does he get off drafting me into his fake fiancée plot without my consent? He knows I hate the scrutiny that comes with living in his world. My ex walked in his circles, living for his bank account and the status that went with it.