The Heiress Bride (The Heiress Merger #5)

Chapter 1

KATHERINE

Time to put on the big girl panties, Katherine.

The New York City skyline looms large outside the hotel window, the sunrise glinting off the polished glass of the surrounding skyscrapers. Being home again is bittersweet, but I already miss Greece. The brilliant royal blue ocean, the wide open space, the sun on my skin, and the wind in my hair.

But as King reminded me on the flight home, we can go back any time we want. I’ll admit I’m tempted to call for a car right now, which is crazy considering we’ve only been stateside for a handful of hours.

After a languorous stretch, I swing my feet to the edge of the bed and check the time on my phone.

Shon will be awake, so I shoot off a quick text.

Katherine: home again smiling face with a tear emoji

King’s out for his morning training session. I made the executive decision to stay in bed a while longer. However, I fully expect room service to arrive any moment with coffee and mini boxes of cereal. King’s thoughtful like that.

With a to-do list growing by the hour, it feels like my impromptu vacation is fading. I rub the sleep from my eyes. There’s no more putting this off. It’s time to return to life and take care of business.

I tighten the belt of my robe, then navigate to my contact list and press connect on the call I’ve been dreading. I promised myself I’d stop running away. So here I am. Being responsible.

“You’re a hard woman to get a hold of,” Ronald Reyes grumbles.

Well, having your phone lost to a criminal investigation will do that, I think, in full snark mode.

I don’t say that to the chairman of Chanler & Cort’s board, though. No use reminding him of my mother’s crimes just yet.

“What can I do for you, Ronald?”

I’ve known these people since I could walk. At a certain point, I stopped calling them by their last name.

There’s a momentary pause, like he’s gathering his thoughts. Or maybe his courage. “We need you back. It’s been utter chaos since—since your mother was arrested.”

I make an understanding noise. “Yes, Charlotte said Tom Brinkley has been in touch. I’ve been out of the country.”

Thank goodness for Charlotte. Even in the chaos of us being booted to mandatory vacation, she’d held down the fort. And to no one’s surprise, my old boss—current boss?—had come calling. Several times. And apparently, he’d sounded more agitated with each call.

I’ve been letting those calls go to voicemail, but because Charlotte is in line for sainthood, she’s been dutifully recording and passing along my messages.

I’ll admit to feeling petty enough to let Tom, Ronald, and the rest of the company stew in their juices. They created the mess. They can slow-cook in it.

“Right, well, we need you to step in as president.”

I absorb his words, a fizz of tiny bubbles coursing through my veins. There it is.

The ask.

What the hell? What the actual hell? They’re insane.

Behind me, the suite door opens. I see King’s reflection in the window, and I half turn to watch him saunter toward me. He strides into the room, a coffee in each hand, and, as he gives me my cup, there’s a question in his eyes.

I give him a quick, reassuring smile to put him at ease, then return my focus to the phone call.

“President?” I quiz.

I take a slow sip of coffee, letting the creamy elixir warm me from the inside out. King spreads today’s papers out on the polished round table next to me.

“We both know you’ve been groomed for this role your whole life.

The company…” He pauses, as if he’s not sure how much he should say.

Or rather, admit. But I snuck peeks at the news while we were away.

I know that Wall Street is losing its mind over this scandal, as it should be.

Whatever he was going to say dies on his lips.

“The company needs a leader. The board wants you.”

A ringing endorsement from a bunch of old white guys.

“But you don’t,” I clarify, because I can read between the lines.

In fact, I can probably list his objections. I’m young. Female. I’ve only been at the company for a few years. Nepotism.

He doesn’t say what’s on his mind, which I can respect to an extent. There’s a time and place for every truth. But he reached out to me, and if he and the board want a favor, I need to know what I’m dealing with.

King slides up behind me, hands coasting over my hips before he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me back against his chest. I put my coffee down and reach back with my free hand and hold on to his thigh. He’s always been my number one supporter.

“Say what’s on your mind, Ronald.”

“Okay. I think you’re a twenty-four-year-old woman, fresh out of college, with limited experience.”

My smile broadens. Called it.

“You forgot the nepotism part,” I murmur.

In a break from character, he huffs a laugh.

“As my mother loves to point out to me,” I tell him, “although my last name is Montgomery, Chanler blood flows through my veins. There’s nothing I can do to change that I’m afraid.”

King chokes on his coffee.

I shoot him a half smirk, glad to find the humor in the situation. I’m sure I won’t be laughing once I get into these meetings.

“Does this have anything to do with the Cort buyout?” I ask, almost positive that the rumblings about Gabe buying out the Cort family have the board on edge.

And how could it not?

Gabe’s new money. A techy. He’s not a starched shirt like them. Like my grandfather. There’s bound to be misgivings about having him hold such a hefty stake in the company.

King swaps his coffee for exercise, dropping into a plank position on the plush rug.

“Of course. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that this is the rockiest week of the company’s history.”

“This would be the rockiest week in most companies’ history,” I agree. Even if only one of the events had happened, it’d set heads spinning.

All that combined, well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised Ronald called. The board’s duty is to keep the business buzzing along smoothly. Solvent. Profitable. In the world of finance, scandal is a dirty word.

I bite back my sigh. I have nothing to do with either situation, and yet, I’m tied to them both. While a vicious part of me wants to flip them the bird, I lift my chin and schedule a time to meet to discuss this insane idea of theirs.

As soon as I disconnect the call, King finishes a round of push-ups and vaults to his feet. “How’d that go?”

“They’ve lost their minds.” Like literally. I think they’ve melted down. I swap my phone for my coffee, then head for the wing-back chair in the corner.

King takes a seat on the ottoman, attention on me. I hope I never get fully used to being the recipient of all that focus. The zing in my veins is heady, better than any champagne I’ve ever had.

“How so?” he prods.

I tell him about the conversation and the board’s plan to right the ship.

“That’s…” He makes a face.

“Yeah.”

“An option, I guess.” He’s just as baffled as I am. “Not that I don’t think you’re brilliant and capable,” he rushes to add.

A soft laugh bubbles up. Taking a long sip, I lose myself in all the what-ifs and the instant feeling of denial that wells up inside me.

These last few weeks have proven just how little I’ve lived. Existing and living are not the same thing.

And I don’t want to go back to the endless meetings and giving up multiple nights a week to dinners and events.

If there’s one silver lining about the last week, it’s that I no longer have to answer to my mother. But she has definitely been trying her damndest to get in touch with me.

Unfortunately for her, I have zero interest in seeing her or hearing from her. About the most I’m willing to do is show up to court and tell my side of the story.

Taking a deep breath, I zone back in. It’s turning out to be a very busy day. A busy few days, it looks like.

But honestly, I’d find a way to push that all aside to have a few uninterrupted hours with my guys. We all seem to be pulled in different directions right now. And I suppose that’s a glimpse of our future.

“I miss them,” I murmur.

King drops a hand to my thigh, squeezing gently. “Me too.”

“I don’t like that they’re fighting.” I really don’t like that I left while things with Gabe were rocky. Every second seems to amplify my worry.

“What’s that look for?” He cocks his head, watching me closely.

My stomach tightens with the usual ‘omg, he’s paying attention to me’ feeling, but it quickly morphs into embarrassment. The problem with being intimate with your best friend is that they know all your faces. Your looks. And they care about you enough to pry.

“I’m worried he doesn’t want this anymore and every second we spend apart just shows him he’s better off without me.”

There’s a long pause where King blinks, his lips part, then he blinks again. Had this not occurred to him? Or have him and Gabe been keeping up with each other?

He didn’t say, and honestly, their relationship is so sparkly new, I didn’t want to pry.

Now I’m starting to wonder if I should. Maybe men truly are shit at dealing with their feelings and ironing things out. And the universe knows, King is especially terrible at that sort of thing. He might be able to say the L word freely, but he still stumbles.

Straightening, I cover his hand with mine.

Time to put on my big girl panties.

“I need to go shopping,” I tell King. His soft green eyes light up.

“What for?”

I tap a fingertip against my lips. “An outfit that says ‘capable but don’t fuck with me.’”

His brows lift, and his lips curve upward like I’ve just given him a puppy. “I know just the thing.”

“Shoes to match?”

He scoffs. “Have you met me?”

He’s off to the closet, pulling out an outfit of his own. Now that I know he likes to dress me, I plan to take full advantage and let him have his way.

“Give me ten minutes to shower and change,” he says as he disappears into the bathroom.