13
BELLE STUMBLED INTO her cottage, tears streaming down her face. She stopped cold when she was hit with a faceful of bright light and heavy metal music.
Damn. She’d forgotten Sierra would be there.
“You’re back early,” her friend yelled over Black Sabbath. “What happened? All that rocking the boat make you seasick?” She was one to tease, given that she was twisted around like a pretzel with her ass in the air.
“Paparazzi,” Belle said shortly, not able to find her usual razz about Sierra being the only person in the world who practiced yoga to Ozzie. She scrubbed the tears off her face with the back of her hand.
Sierra fell sideways with a crash. “What?” she asked, rubbing her shoulder. She finally took a look at Belle’s face and jumped up to slap the stereo off. “Oh, my God, what’s wrong?”
“Paparazzi,” Belle repeated, throwing her shoes across the room so hard they knocked a teacup off the table, sending it to a shattered death on the tile floor.
She glared at the mess, and not even caring that she was barefoot, stormed over to the couch. She dropped to the cushions, drew her knees up for comfort and waited.
She didn’t have to wait long. Two seconds later and Sierra was right there, wrapping her arms around Belle. Belle took a shuddering breath, but before she could spill the details of the horrible encounter and Mitch’s betrayal, someone pounded on her door.
“Belle, I want to talk to you.”
Her body went numb at the sound of Mitch’s voice. Sierra stood to answer the door but Belle grabbed her damp T-shirt and gave a shake of her head.
He pounded again.
“Now.”
Her chin flew up and anger, drowned out earlier by her tears, rekindled.
Sierra took one look at her face and yelled back, “Get lost.”
Silence.
Sierra gave a satisfied smirk, but Belle knew better. Ten seconds later the pounding started again. Confused, angry and hurt beyond belief, she still knew she had to face him. But not yet.
She went to the door and, after flicking off the overhead light to help hide her ravaged face, she set the security chain, then opened the door.
Mitch’s fury was clear through the small opening. It was all she could do not to start crying again at the sight. Determined to cling to some form of dignity, she took a deep breath. Before he could say a word, she held up her hand. “I’ll discuss the situation with you in a half hour,” she told him. “I’m not dressed for this and I’m not prepared to talk to you yet.”
“You’re not negotiating a contract, Belle.” The disdain in his voice was so sharp, she wondered if she’d be left with a scar.
She inclined her head toward him and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “No, but this is business, isn’t it? If you want to talk tonight, I’ll come up to your office in a half hour. Otherwise it will wait until tomorrow.”
She watched his jaw work and knew he was struggling for control. His anger, so clear in the set of his shoulders and furious glare, shouldn’t turn her on. But, sicko that she was, it did, just a little. Her heart whimpered at the uselessness of the realization.
“Fifteen minutes,” he finally said.
“Thirty,” she repeated.
He snarled and lifted his fist as if he were going to pound it through the door. But he didn’t. Instead he growled, “Fine.”
Belle didn’t wait for him to leave. She shut the door and, knowing it would only add to his fury, flipped the locks with a loud snick.
She turned to see Sierra staring, the shock in her blue eyes echoed in her slack jaw.
“What?”
“Just wondering where you’re hiding those brass balls. Your dress is awfully revealing.”
Belle gave a watery laugh and collapsed against the door. Her fury-induced adrenaline washed away, leaving her limp and miserable.
“We’re just getting hot and heavy on the dock and out jumps a blood-sucking photographer snapping pictures, calling dirty suggestions.” Belle shivered at the memory. “It was horrible. Then, before I could take that in, up squeals Reece like the cavalry, grabbing the guy and beating the hell out of him.”
Sierra’s fascinated curiosity turned to derision and she shook her head. “Leave it to him to get all macho,” she muttered. Then she glanced at the clock, grabbed Belle’s arm and tugged her toward the bedroom.
“Talk while you’re changing. We have twenty-five minutes.”
“The paparazzi said it was me, the party girl,” Belle whispered. “He said I’d hired him. Arranged all this.”
Sierra sucked in a sharp breath. Then she let out a low, vicious growl that would do a mama cat proud. “Someone’s setting you up.”
Belle shrugged and started changing.
“And there was that smug-faced bitch, Lena Carter, just gloating over the whole ugly mess,” Belle summed up as she finished recounting the horrible scene while reapplying foundation to cover her blotchy, tearstained skin.
“Lena Norris,” Sierra corrected, her voice muffled by the sweater she was pulling over her head.
Belle lowered the makeup brush and stared at her friend’s reflection. “What?”
Sierra settled the black cashmere sweater in place and pulled her hair free, then met Belle’s eyes in the mirror. “Norris. She’s not one of the Carter clan. I found out tonight when I read the guest list over Larry’s shoulder.”
She and Belle exchanged a long, comprehending stare.
“L.N.,” they said together.
Stunned, Belle dropped her makeup brush on the counter and sank onto the wide edge of the spa tub. That nasty vindictive woman was behind all this?
“What a bitch.” Sierra gave a little growl and shook her head. “I can’t believe it. I thought she had it in for you, but it’s actually her own brother she’s been trying to screw over all these years.”
Belle tugged on her short suede boots and considered the idea. God, she’d been a gullible idiot.
Six years ago she’d scurried away at the first sign of conflict instead of talking to Mitch or her father. As always, she’d been so sure she’d be rejected if she confronted the issue. Shame washed over her. Apparently she was a wimp as well as an idiot.
But not this time. She sucked in a deep, fortifying breath and squared her shoulders, trying to find courage. Hell, Mitch had already rejected her, so she had nothing left to lose. And one hell of a lot to gain by outing that obnoxious bitch, Lena.
“She’s planning on ruining more than a wedding this time,” Belle pointed out, anger making her hand shake as she tried to apply lip gloss. “Mitch’s business is her goal this round.”
Belle tried to focus on that, but she couldn’t quite get over the indignity of being so easily manipulated. She wanted to beat the hell out of Lena. And not some girly slap-fight, either. She wanted to gut-punch the other woman.
“What a dirty sneak,” she muttered.
“Exactly.”
Belle let the fury of it all propel her out of the room. “C’mon,” she called back to Sierra, who was hopping from foot to foot trying to put on her platforms. “I have to tell Mitch. As soon as he hears this, we can sit back and watch him deal with that duplicitous bitch.”
Belle had never been one to contemplate revenge before, but suddenly the idea filled her with a grim satisfaction. She couldn’t wait to see Lena pay for everything she’d done. To Mitch, to the resort. To Belle.
Five minutes early, Belle stormed into Mitch’s office, Sierra hot on her heels. It was like walking into an ice-filled courtroom. Belle shivered, her momentum stalled at the implacable coldness on Mitch’s face. Like a judge, he sat behind his desk, the position of power loud and clear.
There was a movement by the window and Belle’s gaze shot to the prosecutor du-jour. The fiery anger in Reece’s glare was the only heat in the room. Nerves snapped and snarled in her stomach, the little voice in the back of her head warning her to give it up and run. Get the hell out of there before they verbally shredded her.
She’d actually taken a step back before she realized what she was doing. No. Belle squared her shoulders and forced herself to stand still. They wanted to judge, that was fine. She was here for justice.
Knowing the only way she’d get through this was to block Reece’s intimidating presence out of her mind, Belle focused on Mitch. It took her two deep belly breaths to get the nerve, then she stomped over to his desk and slapped her hands on the surface.
It was a good indication of how angry he was when he kept his gaze locked on hers instead of letting it drop to the view highlighted by her low-cut blouse. Okay, fine. She told herself she wasn’t worried that her one real weapon had already proved ineffective.
“Look, I know who’s behind all your problems,” she said quietly. His blank stare didn’t change, but Belle pressed on. “Just hear me out and we’ll get to the truth of this whole mess.”
“Truth?” Mitch snapped. She winced as his frigid tone sliced at her. “Or excuses?”
Tears threatened again, but Belle blinked them away. She felt Sierra come up behind her. Her friend didn’t say anything, just stood a little behind and off to the side, giving silent support. It was all Belle needed. With a deep breath, she handed Mitch the papers she’d found in Diana’s office. He didn’t look at them, just slid them aside and kept his eyes on hers. With a quick glance at Sierra, who nodded, she went on to describe how they’d searched through Diana’s computer files.
Through it all, the men said nothing. Mitch just sat there, his hands steepled as he stared at her emotionlessly. Reece lounged against the windowsill, one cowboy boot tapping impatiently.
Finally, Reese straightened and walked toward the door. “You’re accusing Diana?” he asked as he passed her.
“I found the information in her office,” Belle shot back, her tone pissy and defensive. It was like they hadn’t even heard what she said. She gave Reece the evil eye, to which he only raised a brow.
“We talked to her,” Mitch said quietly. Belle glanced back at him. His face was still blank. Her fingers twitched nervously. She couldn’t read him at all and it was starting to scare her. “Turns out you’re right.”
Belle opened her mouth to argue with him, then closed it. “Right?”
“She’s not the mastermind, obviously. Diana’s just a very good, very efficient assistant.” She knew him well enough to recognize the betrayed hurt beneath his bitter words.
“Mitch, I’m sorry,” Belle murmured.
Instead of accepting her sympathy, he just gave a snort of disbelief.
Belle’s brows drew together.
Before she could say anything else, though, Reece opened the side door to the boardroom and gestured to a security guard on the other side.
Suddenly nervous but not sure why, Belle looked at Sierra. Her friend shot the security guard and his big gun a concerned look and rubbed a quick hand over the small of Belle’s back in support.
But the only person to enter the room was unarmed. And, from the look of her, totally broken. Diana’s hair, styled so carefully for the party, hung in a stringy curtain around her tear-ravaged face. She shot Belle a fearful look, then took the farthest seat away from everyone.
Reece sat opposite her, his long legs kicked out in front of him in a pose so relaxed it was a total insult to the situation. Belle wanted to beat him upside the cowboy hat with Mitch’s desk blotter.
“Diana, you go ahead and repeat what you told Mitch and me earlier.”
“I’d rather not,” she mumbled into her lap.
“That’s too bad,” Mitch said shortly. “It’s talk to us or talk to the cops. Take your pick.”
She gave a deep, shuddering sort of sigh, then, twisting her hands together in a way that was painful to watch, started in a hesitant voice, “I told you already, I admit to helping sabotage Lakeside.”
“On whose orders?” Mitch demanded.
The tension in Belle’s shoulders loosened, anticipation and a weird sort of vindication surging through her. Yes, now Lena would get what was coming to her.
“Hers,” Diana mumbled, the word so quiet they all had to lean forward to hear it.
Sierra and Belle exchanged confused looks.
“You mean Belle?” Reece asked in a low, empty tone.
“What?” Belle couldn’t believe the question.
“Yes,” Diana whispered.
The room tilted just a little and Belle felt her stomach pitch. “You’re so lying. I didn’t do a damned thing.”
Diana just shrugged. Reece took off his cowboy hat and ran the brim through his fingers before putting it back on. Belle’s gaze, filled with confusion and panic, flew to Mitch. He didn’t believe this crap, did he?
He stared back at her, his eyes steady and furious.
Apparently he found the crap perfectly believable.
Her heart cracked, tiny tentacles of pain radiating through her system. She should have known. She never should have let herself feel anything for him. Tears burned the backs of her eyes as she tried to figure out why Diana would tell such lies. And more important, how Mitch could so easily believe them.
“Since when did you start taking orders from Belle?” Sierra snapped.
Diana gave a helpless little shrug, her gaze locked on her toes. “Since she offered me a job with her father’s hotels.”
Belle’s gasp drowned out Sierra’s hiss at the lie.
Showing the first spark since she’d come slinking into the room, Diana ignored them and threw an accusing look at Mitch before continuing. “She promised me her father runs a normal office. I’d be managing a successful hotel, not ordering disgusting sex toys.”
Belle narrowed her eyes. “The sabotage was happening long before I showed up with my disgusting sex ideas.”
Diana gave a tiny smirk and inclined her head. “That was the plan, wasn’t it? And why I pushed your business so hard when you lured away the last event planner.”
Belle stared in shock. “Oh, my God, you don’t really think they’re going to believe this, do you? You are sitting there telling straight-up lies and you think you can get away with it?”
“Why would I lie?” Diana countered. The look in her eyes made Belle realize that this little mouse had sharp teeth and deadly claws. “I’m already being brought up on charges. I’ve lost my job, my reputation and, since you blew it, I’m sure I’ve lost all the recompense you promised me, too.”
“I didn’t promise you a damned thing,” Belle growled, her hands fisted on her hips.
“Did you have contact with Diana before you came to Lakeside?” Reece asked.
“Of course.” Before she could explain that it had been Diana who’d contacted Eventfully Yours for the job, Reece continued.
“Did you come to Lakeside for any purpose other than to secure a job contract?”
How could she answer that? If she admitted she’d come for her father, they’d only see it as more guilt. But she couldn’t lie, either. Belle wet her lips.
“Did you?” Mitch asked quietly.
“I, well, yes, I had other reasons. Mitch and I had a history. I wanted to see him again.”
Reece’s passive demeanor cracked just a little, showing a hint of derision. “Really? The man you left at the altar? You had a sudden hankering to what? Stroll down memory lane?”
“Of course not,” Belle said with a scowl. “We had unfinished business. I wanted to see Mitch,” she looked at her ex-fiancé and shrugged. “I tried to see you a couple of times before, but never got past first base. We had stuff to talk about, a past to deal with.”
Belle tried to find the words to apologize for running off on him, for the humiliation and devastation of leaving him at the altar. But there were too many people in the room, too much nastiness going on. Instead she just shrugged.
“So you admit it,” Reece said. “You had motive, means and opportunity before you showed up here.”
“Oh. My. God,” Sierra snapped. “What is this, a bad Sherlock Holmes novel? Get a magnifying glass or get over yourself.”
“I had an apology to make,” Belle said softly. She saw Mitch’s eyes widen in surprise and wanted to scream with frustration. What? Did he think her so much a bitch that she’d have no regret about what had happened?
Belle pressed her lips together. With every fiber of her being, she wanted to throw her hands in the air and say screw it. To walk—no run—out of the office and escape this nasty scene. Then her gaze fell on Mitch. Beneath the palpable fury emanating from him she saw something else. Pain.
Tears, so easily held at bay for herself, welled up for him. Regardless of how she felt about the unfounded accusations, the ugly mistrust and rotten character assessment, the bottom line was he was the one being hurt.
And she was the one being used to hurt him. She needed to focus on that, to let it excuse his actions. But as much as she tried, she couldn’t. The truth was he didn’t trust her. And without trust, they were nothing but f*ck buddies.
“This is the second accusation thrown at me tonight,” she said quietly through the pain of her realization. “Both of them are complete and total bullshit. If you knew me at all, if the past few weeks we’ve spent together had meant a damned thing to you, you’d know they were bullshit.”
Belle stepped away from the desk and, because she was suddenly freezing, wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head at Mitch. “But you’re too busy worrying about your image. The only thing that matters to you is that people think you’re Mr. Perfect, that your family holds you on some stupid pedestal.”
His fist clenched on the desk, Mitch didn’t say anything.
Fury driving her words, Belle continued to spew uncontrollably. “The fact that it makes no sense doesn’t seem to matter to you and your vigilante cowboy here. If I wanted to screw you over, there are a dozen ways. None of them include busting my butt to create and implement a creative and unique hook to help you succeed.”
Belle shoved a hand through her hair and saw it was shaking. Hell, her entire body was shaking, she was so upset. Her breath came in gasps now, her vision blurred around the edges.
“If you want to blame me, you have a good ol’ time with it. But the person you should be looking at is your sister.” Even through her pain, Belle winced at the raw delivery and its effect on Mitch. His face paled, his mouth dropped open. All in all, he looked as though she’d just kicked him in the ’nads.
Oh, God, look what confrontation got her. A big fat lot of pain and misery. She hadn’t changed their minds about a damned thing, and now she’d hurt him. Belle pressed her hand to her mouth to hold back a scream of frustration and shook her head.
“I can’t do this. You go ahead and believe whatever you want. If it helps to make me the culprit here, go ahead. I’ll send you my lawyer’s name. We’ll deal with it that way.” She had to get out of the room. She could barely breathe through all the tension and pain pounding in her chest.
She felt Sierra’s arm on her shoulder and leaned in, needing the support of at least one person in the room. She drew strength from her friend, then straightened and gave Mitch a long, clear look.
“You’re right, though. I wasn’t completely honest with you. I did show up here hoping for more than a contract from you. I came here hoping you’d talk with my father. Give him some advice and ideas.” She felt like a traitor admitting her self-serving motivation, but figured the truth couldn’t be anywhere near as debilitating as the crap they were making up.
“But once I got here, once I got to know you again— no,” she corrected, “got to know you period, then my reasons changed. All I wanted was to see you succeed, Mitch. To see the resort succeed.”
Behind her, Diana gave a watery snort. Belle spun around, not sure if she was going to scream at the bitch or beat the hell out of her. Before she could do either, though, Sierra launched herself past Belle, claws outstretched.
Diana squealed and jumped back, lifting her feet onto the seat with her as she tried to curl up in a ball.
Reece grabbed Sierra around the waist and swung her away from the whimpering traitor.
Belle’s nerves were jangling and raw at the violence, both in the room, and churning inside her.
Mitch just sat there watching, his face impassive.
“You don’t believe her, do you?” she asked, her words barely discernible as Sierra screamed obscenities at Diana and Reece tried to calm her.
“I don’t like being used,” Mitch finally said as Reece’s and Sierra’s swearing died down.
The implied accusation tore her heart in two.
“You’re one to talk,” Belle sobbed. Finally unable to hold back the one ugly truth that had eaten at her heart for more than six years, she said, “When have you done anything but use me?”
Saying the words aloud was like opening Pandora’s box. Pain, misery and a million and one self-doubts all came flying out at her. Vicious and biting, they ripped at her. The look on Mitch’s face, judgmental and angry, proved that she’d never stood a chance.
Belle tried to speak, but her throat was constricted with tears. She just shook her head and turned away.
It wasn’t until Reece handed her a handkerchief on her way out the door that she realized she had tears dripping off her chin.