Chapter Eight
As everyone talks over dinner,I remain quiet for the most part, only adding to the conversation when a question is directed at me. Too much is going through my head. Stacey Webb—aka Anastasia Kingston-Webb, the woman I’m supposed to be paying ten million dollars to be my fake fiancée for the next year—is not only competing with me for the CEO position, but she’s also worth hundreds of millions, which means she’s been playing me from the beginning.
I have to give her credit though. What she did—attempting to play the willing trophy wife—was cunning. She needed a man on her arm because I’m sure her father gave her the same speech he gave me, so what does she do? She gets the man to pay for her, so she can claim she’s engaged to be married.
I glance over at her, unsure if I should be pissed or in awe at how damn smart she is. I knew this though. The moment she stepped out of the town car and started to speak and when she was talking about my sister’s major, I knew there was more to this woman than a gold digger trying to make some easy money by playing the doting fiancée.
Her father’s talked about her over the years. She went to a private college and majored in business marketing, then went on to get her MBA in hospitality. Her dad would brag about how proud he was of her, and he even has a damn picture of her on his desk. She’s in her cap and gown, but I never paid close attention to it. I guess I should’ve though because I literally invited my biggest competition into my home.
Well, you know what they say: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. So, that’s what I’m about to do because there’s no way I’m going to give up my chance at becoming the next CEO. Anastasia might be his daughter, but I’ve given this company everything for the past twenty years, and I’ll be damned if that woman comes off the bench and tries to take over the game.
“Have you guys discussed wedding dates or venues yet?” Selene asks, drawing me out of my thoughts.
Anastasia’s hazel eyes, hidden under her thick lashes, meet mine, and her plump lips purse in annoyance before she looks back at her stepmom and plasters on a fake smile.
“We’re just taking it one day at a time,” she says. “With me about to start at Kingston and my dad retiring at the end of the year, I imagine we’ll be so busy with work that it’ll be a long engagement.”
Samuel’s brows furrow, and I know immediately the mistake Anastasia made before she does.
“It’s not because of work,” I add. “We just don’t want to add more stuff to everyone’s plate. It must be stressful, having to find a new CEO while planning your retirement.”
Everything out of my mouth is bullshit since we didn’t even know we were connected by her dad, but thankfully, Samuel nods, seeming to buy it.
“Please don’t pick your wedding date based on my retirement,” Samuel says. “I know firsthand what it’s like to be in love and to not want to wait to get married.”
He takes Selene’s hand in his and brings it up to his mouth for a kiss. I’m used to their PDA, so it doesn’t faze me, but I notice Anastasia suddenly looks uncomfortable, glancing around anywhere but at them.
“I think I’m going to call it a night,” she says, setting her napkin on the table and standing abruptly. “I’m tired, and I’d like to get myself situated for tomorrow.”
“Of course,” her dad says.
Since he has an account here, we don’t have to wait for the waiter to bring the bill, so we all stand as well and follow Anastasia out.
When our vehicles are brought around, we say a quick goodbye, and then Anastasia and I get into my car. She’s quiet, and I could be wrong, but I don’t think it’s because of what went down between us.
I should probably mind my own business, but instead, I ask, “You okay?”
She flits her gaze toward me before she settles on staring out her window. “It’s just hard,” she whispers after a few beats. “He’s like a different man with her, and I can’t help but wonder why he couldn’t be like that with my mom.”
I nod in understanding. “I met your mom a few times,” I say, unsure why I feel the need to tell her this story, but I guess I’m hoping it will help in some way. “She was really sweet. I had just started working for your dad, and I was in over my head. She bought me lunch, and while we ate, she told me everything I needed to know about your dad to ensure he wouldn’t fire me. His likes, dislikes. Secrets nobody else would know.”
Anastasia blows out a harsh breath, and I can see through the reflection in the window that her eyes are glassy.
“She said the reason why he saw something in me was because he used to be me—broke, lost, and just trying to find his place in this world,” I continue. “She brought him lunch that day, too, but he was too busy to eat with her. She played it off like she didn’t care, like she was used to it. But every Wednesday, she came to the office and brought him lunch, and every week, he told her he was too busy. Eventually, she stopped coming.”
“When I was little, they used to have lunch every Wednesday. Dad used to say that he loved having lunch with us on Wednesdays because it helped him get through the rest of the week,” she chokes out.
I stop at a light and look at Anastasia. “When she passed away, every Wednesday for probably two years, maybe longer, he sat at the conference table by himself. When I joined him one day, he said, ‘If I could do one thing over again, it would be to have lunch with my wife on Wednesday one more time.’”
The tears spill over Anastasia’s lids, but before they slide down her cheeks, she looks away. The light turns green, and the rest of our drive is quiet until we pull into the garage.
“My mom loved him with everything she had, and he broke her heart over and over again. I’m sure he has a lot of regrets. But it doesn’t matter because she’s gone and we can’t rewind time.”
“That’s true. So, if you blame the company for everything, why is it so important for you to work there? I’d think it would be the last place you’d want to work.”
Anastasia chuckles humorlessly. “I should probably hate Kingston Limited because he always chose it over us, but instead, I find myself wanting to be a part of it because of that very same reason. I grew up there. My dad would let me sit in on meetings, and I learned of my love for numbers there. Every night when he would get home, he would continue to work in his office, and I would hang out with him. He would explain it all to me and promise that, one day, I would work alongside him.
“But then I became a surly teenager, and his absence made me lash out, wanting nothing to do with Kingston. I got into the college of my choice, but I damn near failed out my freshman year. If it wasn’t for my mom temporarily moving down there and reining me in, I probably would’ve failed out,” she admits.
“She told me that the business owned him and if I wanted a relationship with him, I’d need to be a part of that world. She begged me to let my dream of working for Kingston go, but I couldn’t do it.
“So, for the next few years, I busted my ass in school so I could go to work for him when I graduated.” She sighs and shakes her head. “But then Mom was killed by that drunk driver, and I blamed my dad and ran away, not wanting anything to do with him or the company he’d chosen over us.”
“And yet here you are, wanting to work for Kingston,” I say, trying to understand.
“You know how I found out he was stepping down?” she asks. “From a friend who had read it online. I’m his daughter, his only blood relative left, and he didn’t even offer me the position, knowing I’d been studying and working in this industry for most of my life. And when I called, upset, he told me he didn’t feel I was the right person for the position.”
“He said the same thing to me.”
“But you aren’t his child. You didn’t sit with him every night, begging for his attention and hoping you would finally have it one day when you were running the family company together.
“To be honest, when I called him, I didn’t even think I wanted the position, but then he told me I wasn’t right for it, and something inside of me just … broke.” Her hazel eyes meet mine. “I shouldn’t want or need his approval, but I do. I, Anastasia Belle Kingston-Webb, want my dad’s approval. I want to prove to him I’m worthy of working for the company that means the most to him. The company he chose over his daughter and wife, the company he lived and breathed for my entire life.”
She chokes out a sob, and I wish we weren’t in the car so I could pull her into my arms and hold her. She cries for a few minutes and then takes a deep breath and lifts her head up, squaring her shoulders and looking into my eyes.
“I understand you’ve worked for Kingston for a long time, and you probably, in a lot of ways, deserve this position,” she says, “but this is personal for me. I’ve never felt like I was enough for that man, but I’m going to show him that not only am I capable of running Kingston, but I’m also worthy of doing so.”
I open my mouth, unsure of what I’m going to say, but before I can get a word out, she stops me.
“And before you point out my daddy issues, I’m already aware, and I accept them. My dad has gone soft, and he wants me to get married and pop out a couple of kids so I can do shit differently than he did.
“He wants a relationship with me, and he doesn’t want to mix business and family, but what he doesn’t get is that I might be like him in a lot of ways, but we differ in one big way. I’m not selfish enough to get married and have kids, knowing my work is my life. He destroyed his family because he wanted it all, but I know better.”
Fuck, this woman. I can see the pain in her eyes, her desperation to prove herself to her father. And I can’t even say I get it because my stepdad and I have a close relationship and I have no desire to have any type of relationship with my sperm donor. But what she doesn’t understand is that I can’t just walk away from this, which leaves us at an impasse.
“So, what do we do?” I ask, making it clear that I’m not backing down from the position.
When she realizes my intention behind my words, Anastasia’s eyes turn into thin slits, going from emotional to savage in the blink of an eye. The transition is almost scary. “Once he knows you’re not actually the family man you’re pretending to be, he’s not going to hire you,” she says low, thinking she’s got this all figured out.
I bark out a laugh. “Wow, look at you … going from sweet to deadly in point-five seconds. By doing that, you’d be shooting yourself in the foot.”
“Okay, then what do you suggest we do? Keep going with this ridiculous fake engagement?” She scoffs, like she can’t even fathom being fake engaged to me when not too long ago, we were flirting and damn close to fucking.
“Actually, that’s exactly what I propose we do. We continue this charade until he hires one of us to take his place.”
She laughs. “You really think he’s going to pick you over his own daughter?”
“Well, I think I have a damn good chance since he didn’t ask you in the first place.” It’s a low blow, but, fuck, she’s making it hard to be nice to her.
“Fuck you!” she spits, swinging open the car door and getting out.
“Don’t be mad because I’m speaking the truth!” I call out, stalking after her.
When we get inside, she goes straight to the kitchen and grabs the bottle of wine from earlier, pouring herself a glass.
“You can talk all the shit you want,” she says, taking a sip of the wine. “But you don’t know me, and there’s a reason why my dad says I’m just like him. When I want something, nothing and nobody will stop me from getting it.”
“Okay, Red,” I say, bridging the gap between us. “Challenge accepted.”
I extend my hand, and she rolls her eyes.
“Red? Real original.”
She clasps my hand, and we shake.
“May the best man—” I begin.
“Or woman,” she corrects.
“May the best man or woman win,” I say. And then with a smirk that I know will piss her off, I add, “Oh, and, Anastasia?”
She glares my way.
“I didn’t nickname you Red because of your lips.”
She raises a questioning brow. “Okay, so enlighten me.”
“The red widow spider is one of the most beautiful yet deadly spiders. Just like you—beautiful but filled with venom. The only difference is, at this point, I probably know your father better than you do, so I know what you’re capable of, and I won’t be dumb enough to let you lure me in and bite me. I see you, Red, and when I stomp on your venomous ass, you’re going to wish you’d stayed in London.”