Read Online Escorting the Billionaire #3 (The Escort Collection) by Leigh James - Free Book Online
Authors: Leigh James
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mother even thinking about harming you. We’ll try this tonight, but tomorrow, I’m calling Danielle’s parents and alerting the authorities back home. They’ll have to reopen the case as a criminal investigation.”
I nodded at him. “Okay. Let’s just see what your mother has to say to me right now.”
----
A s this was a group vacation , and as James’s family liked to drink, everyone in our party was at the bar. The floor-to-ceiling windows had all been opened, so the warm night air spilled in. There was a breathtaking view of the ocean and the moon above it. Someday, I thought, James and I will come back here and have a real vacation. I clasped my fingers around the small, gold necklace that he’d given me before the wedding; I needed it to remind me to be brave. I loved James, and I had to protect him from his mother. Protecting myself from her was secondary—but if something happened to me, if she did something horrible, I knew it would break him.
We had to beat her.
He ordered us drinks, and I gave him a small kiss, leaving him with Todd and Evie and Evie’s sinewy cousins, as I searched the room for his parents. They were seated near the indoor fireplace with several of the older guests.
I took a sip of my martini, hoping it would act as liquid courage, and approached their little group.
“Good evening,” I said, barely able to contain the shakiness in my voice. Celia Preston was wearing an island-appropriate flowered tunic, white linen pants, and orange patent-leather gladiator sandals that probably cost as much as a mid-sized Hyundai .
“Hello, dear,” she said, and I noticed she was drinking a martini, too. So she’d already had some liquid courage.
Not that she seemed to need any.
“May I speak with you for a moment, Mrs. Preston?” I asked politely. “It’s about what we discussed earlier.”
She smiled at me tightly and stood. “Of course,” she said. She motioned for me to follow her to a small table at the corner of the bar, away from everyone else. I was afraid, but I knew she was too dignified and far too premeditated to throw herself across the small glass table at me right here in public. Still, a cold sweat coated my palms, and I felt positively queasy to be so close to her again.
“What is it, Audrey?” Her voice was ice.
“I thought about what you said this afternoon,” I said. “About the Preston luck. I realized something. James had told me about his poor high school girlfriend, Danielle. He was explaining how hard it was for him to get close to a woman after what happened to her. Because that almost ruined him, Mrs. Preston. When Danielle died—I’m sure you know how difficult it was for him.”
“For a senior in high school, he dealt with the tragedy admirably,” she said.
“He said the same thing about you. That you did all the right things, made all the right donations.” I paused for a beat. “The other thing I remember him saying, though, was how inappropriate you were privately. That you told him her death was a blessing in disguise. That you said the ‘Preston luck’ had saved him from a poor match. That really stuck with me,” I said. “And then yesterday, when you mentioned Preston luck to me, I started to piece things together.”
“Audrey, dear, that martini’s gone straight to your head. You’re not making any sense.” She didn’t look vaguely rattled, but I didn’t let myself doubt my gut.
“The thing is, it hasn’t.” I took another big sip, which I desperately needed at this point. “You’ve threatened me several times now. And I finally believe that you mean exactly what you say. So I want to take you up on your offer.
“You offered to pay me. I accept. Except now, I’m dictating the terms. I will accept your payment, Mrs. Preston, in exchange for my silence on this matter. I’ve written several letters to the Boston media outlets—just in case something happens to me, you know? Like a head-on collision with a
I nodded at him. “Okay. Let’s just see what your mother has to say to me right now.”
----
A s this was a group vacation , and as James’s family liked to drink, everyone in our party was at the bar. The floor-to-ceiling windows had all been opened, so the warm night air spilled in. There was a breathtaking view of the ocean and the moon above it. Someday, I thought, James and I will come back here and have a real vacation. I clasped my fingers around the small, gold necklace that he’d given me before the wedding; I needed it to remind me to be brave. I loved James, and I had to protect him from his mother. Protecting myself from her was secondary—but if something happened to me, if she did something horrible, I knew it would break him.
We had to beat her.
He ordered us drinks, and I gave him a small kiss, leaving him with Todd and Evie and Evie’s sinewy cousins, as I searched the room for his parents. They were seated near the indoor fireplace with several of the older guests.
I took a sip of my martini, hoping it would act as liquid courage, and approached their little group.
“Good evening,” I said, barely able to contain the shakiness in my voice. Celia Preston was wearing an island-appropriate flowered tunic, white linen pants, and orange patent-leather gladiator sandals that probably cost as much as a mid-sized Hyundai .
“Hello, dear,” she said, and I noticed she was drinking a martini, too. So she’d already had some liquid courage.
Not that she seemed to need any.
“May I speak with you for a moment, Mrs. Preston?” I asked politely. “It’s about what we discussed earlier.”
She smiled at me tightly and stood. “Of course,” she said. She motioned for me to follow her to a small table at the corner of the bar, away from everyone else. I was afraid, but I knew she was too dignified and far too premeditated to throw herself across the small glass table at me right here in public. Still, a cold sweat coated my palms, and I felt positively queasy to be so close to her again.
“What is it, Audrey?” Her voice was ice.
“I thought about what you said this afternoon,” I said. “About the Preston luck. I realized something. James had told me about his poor high school girlfriend, Danielle. He was explaining how hard it was for him to get close to a woman after what happened to her. Because that almost ruined him, Mrs. Preston. When Danielle died—I’m sure you know how difficult it was for him.”
“For a senior in high school, he dealt with the tragedy admirably,” she said.
“He said the same thing about you. That you did all the right things, made all the right donations.” I paused for a beat. “The other thing I remember him saying, though, was how inappropriate you were privately. That you told him her death was a blessing in disguise. That you said the ‘Preston luck’ had saved him from a poor match. That really stuck with me,” I said. “And then yesterday, when you mentioned Preston luck to me, I started to piece things together.”
“Audrey, dear, that martini’s gone straight to your head. You’re not making any sense.” She didn’t look vaguely rattled, but I didn’t let myself doubt my gut.
“The thing is, it hasn’t.” I took another big sip, which I desperately needed at this point. “You’ve threatened me several times now. And I finally believe that you mean exactly what you say. So I want to take you up on your offer.
“You offered to pay me. I accept. Except now, I’m dictating the terms. I will accept your payment, Mrs. Preston, in exchange for my silence on this matter. I’ve written several letters to the Boston media outlets—just in case something happens to me, you know? Like a head-on collision with a
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