What Do You Want?

EMERALD

“Tate?”

I felt him going rigid and completely still against me as the newscaster continued spilling the story of Tate King having been involved in blackmail, bribery, and a covered-up scandal involving a woman named Nicole Everett.

“Tate, you need to call Vince.”

I shook his shoulder, but he kept staring at the TV like some sort of entranced statue. I looked at Devon, and he had his brow furrowed and a growing look of concern on his face.

“Do you have Vince’s number?” I asked him, and he looked at me before he nodded and pulled out his phone while I tried to get Tate back in the world of the living.

My efforts were in vain, but he was starting to worry me.

“He’s already on his way,” Devon said and scoffed at the TV. “Tate’s an asshole, but he’s not that kind of asshole. This reeks of Leo.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tate practically already owns the company.” Devon snorted. “He’s been under Father and Gandy for pretty much his entire life.

“There’s nothing he doesn’t know about it or how to run it. Hell, he’s been the mastermind behind most of the profitable moves for the past fifteen years or so.”

“Seriously?” I asked, looking at the younger King brother. “He’s only been working at King Industries for five years, though.”

“Yeah, but he’s been the one to point the way for Father and Gandy since before he graduated from high school,” Devon shrugged.

“He’s a business-minded prodigy, Emma. That makes him a huge threat to Leo’s plan to sell.”

“So he’s making up lies? That’s bullshit,” I snapped.

“I’m not sure it’s ~all~ a lie. Something about that name sounds familiar, but I can’t remember why,” he said thoughtfully.

“So they know each other. It doesn’t matter. ~That~ isn’t Tate.” I pointed at the television.

Devon looked at me hard for a moment before he shrugged and turned around to sit on the couch with his feet on the table again.

I tapped on Tate’s cheeks and kept trying to break him out of his shock when the elevator chimed. I kept my hand on Tate’s shoulder.

“Well, this is a fucking shitshow,” Vince said as soon as the doors slid open. “I expected Leo to pull some kind of trick out of his ass, but I wasn’t expecting him to go digging for Nicole.”

“They did know each other?” I asked, and Vince looked at me, then Tate, then Devon before he pinched his nose between his eyes and sighed.

“Yes, they knew each other,” he said. “It’s not like the media is making it out to be, though.”

“I know that,” I snapped, and I felt Tate jerk, coming out of his stupor. “Whatever it was, whatever happened, I know what’s being said about it now is getting twisted up and painted to be something completely different.”

“It’s not completely different,” Tate said quietly, and I snapped my head around to stare at him.

“It’s different enough.” I frowned.

“It’s a stretch, but it’s not a big one,” Vince said, and I turned to look at him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, and Vince looked at Devon.

“Don’t look at me. I came here to help. I like Tate more than Leo.” He held up his hands. “Besides, if he sells, my allowance gets cut in half. I have a living standard, you know.”

“The three of us went to boarding school together,” Vince said when Tate nodded. “The school was segregated co-ed. The boys and girls were on the grounds together but were kept apart.

“The girls’ dorms were across the campus from the boys’. The classes were all boy or all girl with the same content; the only times we mixed were meals and school events, like sports or those god-awful dances.”

“Understandable, considering the wealthy get bored when everything comes easy. So, we get horny.” Devon shrugged.

“I’m aware,” I said flatly, and I felt Tate flinch a bit.

“Nicole was…well, she was a force of nature.” Vince sighed and leaned against the counter. “Kind of like the Queen Bee of the place and sweet as fuck.”

“It was a fucking lie,” Tate snapped.

I’ve heard him angry before. I worked for the man during some stressful times this past year, so I’ve heard the entire scale of his anger.

At least, I thought I had, until now. The amount of hatred and venom in those five words made me second-guess my knowledge of his moods.

“The three of us were friends for years. As we got older, friendship started turning into something else for both of us.” Vince nodded. “Nicole chose Tate.”

“She wanted what my name would get her,” he hissed and stood up, so he could start pacing. “In and out of school.”

“She was very good at playing the game. No one saw through her until it was too late.” Vince shook his head.

“They started dating, but when it wasn’t meeting the standards she envisioned, she tried the age-old fake pregnancy scheme. Obviously, it was a lie.”

“I never fucking touched her.” Tate pointed angrily at the TV that Devon had wisely turned off.

“She threatened to tell her father. The kind of damage that could have done to not only the King name but also to the business would have been… Very hard to come back from.” Vince shook his head. “We were kids and foolish.”

“So, you paid her off,” Devon guessed, and Vince shrugged.

“Looking back, there were so many holes in her plan that, if we knew then what we do now, it would have changed everything, but teenagers always think they know what they’re doing when they hardly ever do,” Vince said.

“What does she get out of this now?” I asked, frowning as the story processed in my head.

“What do you mean?” Vince asked.

“I mean, she sounds like the kind of person that won’t lift a finger unless she gets something out of it, so what’s the angle?” I sat on the stool that Tate had given up.

“She fucking wants what she’s always wanted,” he said, still pacing. “Any association with the King family.”

“By ruining it?” I cocked my head.

“I got it!” Devon jumped up and snapped his fingers. “Her mother is the heir of some big name in Europe.

“I’ve been over there for six months, and there are rumors that the powerhouse is failing. The money is drying up, the businesses that have been supplying the family and their lifestyle are all going down in flames.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked.

“It’s a well-known secret in certain circles that Nicole’s father has a terrible eye for business.” Vince tapped his chin.

“The primary investor that’s been keeping them from going under has been Nicole’s mother’s family, but with that coming to an end, it makes sense that they’d be feeling that impending crash and burn all the way over here.”

“Fuck ‘why’!” Tate shouted. “How did Leo find out about her?”

“Fuck if I know.” Vince shrugged. “But he did, and our stupidity is coming back to bite us in the ass.”

“What do you mean, ‘us’? Pretty sure it was just my name in that banner running across the screen just now,” Tate snapped.

“I was a part of this, too, Tate. It might be just you being named right now, but I’m not letting you take all the blame for this,” Vince said.

“I was the one that convinced you to pay her off, remember? This is on me, too.”

“That was dumb,” Devon said.

“I am aware of that now,” Vince rolled his eyes.

“So? What do we do?” I asked Vince.

“‘We’?” Tate stopped pacing to glare at me. “You’re not a part of this, Emerald.”

“I am since we’re supposed to be engaged soon,” I crossed my arms.

“She’s right,” Devon said, standing on his knees over the back of the couch again. “I’ve seen the stories about you two already. The media is going to want to know her take on all of this.”

“You stay as far away from this as possible, Emerald,” Tate growled.

“Excuse the fuck out of me, but the last time I checked, ~Mr. King~, you aren’t my boss,” I shot him a glare of my own. “There has to be some way I can make this situation better, right?”

“I don’t want you mixed up in this mess ~I~ made,” he said firmly.

“Your mess, your problem?” I lifted an eyebrow at him. “Where have I heard something like that before?”

“This isn’t the same thing,” he shot back.

“Look, we all need to take a breath for a second,” Vince spoke up before I could say something stupid, which would likely start another fight.

“We don’t know exactly what is being said, so trying to get ahead of it isn’t going to do anything.”

“I agree. With Emma,” Devon said.

“Your opinion doesn’t count, Devon,” Tate snapped and started pacing again.

“Hear me out.” Devon held up his hands. “She’s involved no matter how hard you try to keep her out of it.”

“That point I can agree with, too.” Vince nodded.

“Now, I may be the family fuck-up, but I’m not blind and I’m not stupid,” Devon continued. “I saw you two in bed this morning before you knew I was here.”

“Pervert,” Vince muttered.

“I thought, maybe, this was a plot for the will, but you can’t fake what I saw,” he continued. “And, better, Emma’s been defending you since I turned on the TV.”

“Because it’s completely ridiculous.” I rolled my eyes. “Anyone who spends an hour with Tate knows better than that garbage.”

“See?” He gestured toward me.

“Again, I have to agree. Emma’s always defended you, even when she hated you.” Vince nodded as the wheels in his head started turning.

“He’s an ass, but he’s not a bad one,” I huffed. “I can help, Tate.”

“I don’t want you to,” he ran his hands through his hair, and Vince groaned and smacked his hand to his forehead.

“Bad choice of words,” he muttered under his breath.

“Fuck! That’s not—” Tate growled.

“I know”—I held up my hand to stop him—“you don’t want me involved more than I already am. That’s a pipe dream, Tate. And if you try to keep me out when they can’t get to me, they’ll go after my family.”

“Fuck!”

“Shit, I didn’t think of that,” Vince groaned.

“She’s good,” Devon grinned at me. “You should both listen to her because all I’m hearing is a bunch of sense coming out of her.”

“Shut up, Devon,” Tate snapped.

“Okay,” Vince sighed and let his head fall back on his shoulders. “What do you have in mind, Emma?”

“Don’t hide,” I shrugged.

“I’m not fucking hiding,” Tate growled.

“No, but you might want to consider it with your attitude right now because giving away how badly this is getting to you is worse.” I lifted my eyebrow at him.

“The media is like a bunch of piranhas; one sniff and they’ll rip you to pieces. You need to solidify, Tate. Calm down and let your head do the work.”

“Again, she’s right.” Vince looked at me. “Why were you an assistant and not working in PR somewhere? You’re a natural.”

“I went to school for it.” I shrugged. “Briefly. I had to drop out. Not important, though. Devon made a point.

“They’ll want my opinion on this eventually, but Vince is right, too. We have no idea what the actual story is, so trying to do damage control will likely end up being counterproductive.”

“I know a few people that would know.” Devon raised his hand like he was in school. “I can make a few calls and find out.”

“I’ll hit the books and see if there’s any legal ground for us to stand on. Without proof, we don’t have a good case for slander, but maybe simply filing it would be enough,” Vince added.

“And we”—I gestured between myself and Tate—“need to be seen together, now more than ever.

“I was planning on fighting you about this whole birthday thing you cooked up, but I guess I’ll allow it, even if I really hate my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” Vince asked. “I thought it was next week.”

“No, it’s today,” I said, finding my nails suddenly interesting.

“Why do you hate your birthday? It’s an annual reason to get shitfaced,” Devon asked.

“My dad died on my birthday,” I said softly.

“Shit,” both Tate and Vince said.

I cleared my throat and got up to make some coffee. Anything to distract myself, right? Avoidance. I was totally rocking it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Tate said quietly as he came to hold me from behind as I poured coffee into mugs.

“I didn’t say.” I nodded.

“Vince and Devon left, baby.” He took the pot from me and put it back in the machine. “This wasn’t how I wanted today to go.”

“It’s started off pretty shitty.” I sighed and turned around in his arms to lean back on the counter. My hands went to his chest, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles in the material of his shirt. “I have a confession to make.”

“Okay?”

“As much as I hate that it’s my birthday, I’m kind of excited that you want to take me out. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go on a date with you,” I said with a smile, holding onto his arms.

“Circumstances aside, I’m going to enjoy this.”

“That’s the idea.” He chuckled, then he shook his head. “What do you really think about Nicole?”

“I’m behind you, Tate. Always,” I answered him. “The way things were handled was stupid, but I’m completely certain you aren’t whatever they’ll try to turn you into.”

“How can you be so sure about me?” He sighed. “I’m not even that sure.”

“I just am. Kind of like how I know that Devon is really trying to get your attention for something,” I said, and he pulled a face.

“I’m serious, Tate. He has that look in his eyes when he looks at you. The same one I felt when Lance was still angry and sad and pushing everyone away.

“He ~loves~ you. You’re his big brother, and he’s looking for a way in.”

I put my hand on his chest and looked up at him. He was the very image of reluctance, but I could see a little fault line in the stones that made the man I could feel myself falling for if this really did last.

“I have nothing in common with him, Emerald. What would we even talk about?” He sighed.

“As horrible as it is, this is a good opportunity as any to get started.” I shrugged. “Sometimes, the best relationships start off cold and frigid before the sun comes out and turns it into an Eden.”

“Are you a grandmother with really good genes?” He chuckled. “O, Wise One, teach me your wisdom.”

“Bite me, Caveman.” I pushed at him playfully.

“That can be arranged.” He smirked and bent down to nibble at my shoulder.

“No cannibalism before breakfast,” I joked and swatted at him.

“So, no eating you for breakfast?” He lifted an eyebrow, and my face started to heat from the mischievous look on his face. “Curious if that applies if we had stayed in bed. It’s not morning until you get up, right?”

“Must suck for you, then.” I smirked back.

“How so?”

“Seems like you ‘get up’ quite frequently.” I giggled. “That could become a problem, you know.”

“It’s your damn fault.” He laughed loudly, his head back, the carefree sound all but bursting from him.

My heart stuttered, and I could practically see it jump for his hands.

I tried, in this bloody and brutal, internal battle, to get it to stop and see some sense, to remind it that my brain was the one in charge here, but it was futile.

I had put it in a cage long enough, apparently, and it broke out and turned traitor, the mutinous little bastard organ.

I wasn’t ready to let him have that, but he took it without my consent, and I could only hope he didn’t destroy it.

***

I looked…I looked…~affluent~, maybe? I was wearing this dress from a designer I’ve never heard of before “because it’s from France” and I have to say, it felt like I was wearing nothing.

The material was a million times lighter than anything I’ve ever worn before. Such an odd concept, really. Seriously, who thinks about how the clothes weigh on their bodies?

My lacy panties and bra felt like they had more to them than this dress, and the material was soft, smooth, and ~beautiful~.

It was plain and simple with no fancy embellishments or flair, which I found to be the best feature of it when it was shoved into the dressing room with me at the store.

It was also a deep green color, which made the red in my hair pop out a little more and my eyes seem a little brighter, which I was impressed by.

I never liked my eyes. They seemed like an odd shade of brown and kind of dull, like dirt, only lighter. Like the sandy dirt you got when you pulled mud from the lake and let the sun bake it dry.

I had added a little more curl to the loose, natural waves of my hair and added some light makeup.

Okay, so it was just mascara, eyeliner, and some colored lip balm since I really didn’t have much left to do a full face, and I needed that to make an impression on a job interview, should I get one.

Still, I nearly didn’t see myself in my own reflection. Even less when I slipped on the low heels and grabbed the black satin clutch.

I didn’t have a say in the shoes that were bought during that trip to hell, but I was beginning to suspect that Tate may have had a word or two with the attendants because none of them were that far out of my comfort area.

Yet another reason that this scandal that had resurfaced was a total joke.

Devon had come back to the penthouse sometime after lunch and had given us the information about the rest of the story, and while Tate fumed, I had to laugh.

I mean, this Nicole woman was actually claiming that Tate had thrown money at her and told her to get an under-the-table abortion.

How fucking hilarious was that? Who thinks of stuff like this outside steamy novels? Nicole freaking Everett, apparently.

I shook my head and stared for a few moments longer at the woman in the mirror before I opened the bedroom door and started what had to be the longest walk of my damn life.

You know those moments in life when time crawls by? It seems like hours, days, ~years~ are passing by when it’s really only a few seconds.

It’s triggered by nerves. Fearful ones, anxious ones, ones that are currently juiced up on anticipation.

During that time, you begin to second-guess every choice you made that led you here and every decision you went with in preparation.

~My dress is too plain. Expensive but plain. He wants flashy and intricate. I should go change.~

~My hair is going to go flat. I didn’t use nearly enough product to keep it this way because I didn’t want it to be stiff.~

~I should have used more makeup.~

~Shit, I should have worn some higher heels.~

~Tate’s got high standards, and I’m not meeting any of them right now. I need to cancel this disaster before it happens.~

~I can handle a lot, but I can’t stomach the disappointed and embarrassed look when he sees me and ends up being forced to go out with me like this.~

Then, suddenly, it was too late. I was in the living room, and it was like he knew I was there because he and Devon stopped bickering like children, and he stared at me.

Tate’s eyes traveled up and down several times, and his jaw ticked. I couldn’t tell if that was a good tick or a bad one.

I was about to turn around and go dive for my sweatpants and hoodie when Devon let out a wolf whistle.

“Damn, my sister-in-law is ~hot~.” He clapped and catcalled a few times before Tate shot him a glare and gut-checked him. “So violent.”

“Keep your eyes in your head, Dev, before I rip them out and feed them to a poodle,” he growled.

“Relax, big bro.” Devon rubbed his stomach and clapped Tate on the shoulder.

“I can appreciate a beautiful piece of art, but I’m not stupid enough to try to take it home with me. Far too refined for my shabby life. This is all you, man.”

“I don’t know about all that,” I muttered and shuffled my feet a little bit.

“Are you ready? We need to leave before my brother’s drool gets all over us.” Tate shot off another glare at Devon, who wisely held up his hands and stepped away.

“Yeah.” I breathed out and walked across the living room to the private elevator.

Once the door slid shut, I felt Tate take my hand, and I looked up as he kissed my knuckles, staring at my face.

“You look even more stunning than I thought was possible,” he said softly.

My traitorous heart grinned from its new home in Tate’s hands triumphantly and far too smugly for my liking. Like it was saying, ~Yeah, bitch. Look at me now. Watch me melt and shit.~

Stupid little fuck. At least my brain was still with me, right?

“We’re going to a very private restaurant so you don’t get too overwhelmed right away, but our arrival is going to make the rounds,” he said, looping my hand through the crook of his arm to rest on his elbow.

“Leaving is going to be a fanfare, no matter what we do. I have bodyguards for you, and I’ll do what I can to keep you out of the storm.”

“Bodyguards? Just for me? What about you?” I asked him as the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors opened in the underground parking garage.

“I’m used to it.” He shrugged. “I grew up with this kind of attention.”

“You don’t seem to like it much,” I commented as we walked to his car.

“I don’t.” He frowned, the corner of his lips turning down only a small bit before he held the passenger door open for me.

“No driver? Should I be concerned?” I smirked.

“Looking like this, yes. You should be ~very~ concerned about a lot of things, baby,” he replied, his eyes once again dragging over me like he was looking at a present he was trying to decide how to unwrap.

If he kept looking at me like that, I’d probably let him, too, because it was ~so damn sexy~.

“Most of them being very explicit thoughts now running through my head. Now, get in before I decide to take you back upstairs.”

I felt my face flush as he helped me in, picking up the bottom of my dress and tucking it into the car with me before closing the door and making his way around the back.

I swear I saw him adjust his pants in the mirror before he made it, and I gave myself a small pat on the back. I did something right if he was getting uncomfortable, surely.

He got in and turned on the car but didn’t move to start driving. Instead, his hands held the steering wheel as his jaw danced with ticks.

I still couldn’t tell if they were good ones or not, so I just had to assume they weren’t and keep quiet so I didn’t poke the bear, as Dad used to say.

“I want you, Emerald,” he finally said, and I looked at him, unsure of what to say to that.

“I know today isn’t a good day, for so many reasons, and I wanted you to know that I understood that.

“I was going to be the perfect gentleman, or as much as I could be. Now, after seeing you tonight, there is no such word left in my vocabulary.”

Still, I had nothing. I had a million witty remarks and comebacks at my disposal for every occasion and often on the fly, but this was not the time for banter.

This was the Serious Tate tone.

The real Tate King being honest about what he felt, which was both a huge step for his lack of long-term relationship knowledge and also made him slightly vulnerable.

It seemed like he wasn’t sure he was supposed to say anything at all and immediately wanted to take it back.

Instead, I said the dumbest thing I could have. Not because it would have ruined anything but because it would mean my brain was about to jump ship and run off with my heart.

“What do you want to do now?”

Gods of every era and religion, both known and unknown, past and present, all facepalmed as Tate looked over, an honest ~smolder~ burning in his now lust-hooded eyes.

Not even a whole second later and my brain was sitting all chummy with my heart like school kids on the bleachers after class.

“What I ~want~, Emerald, is for you to bring your things into my room and stay there so it’s ~ours~. I ~want~ to take what we did in the back seat a whole hell of a lot further, only in the bed,” he said, almost growling.

“But mostly, I ~want~ to see you coming again, only this time, we’re going to do it right.”

Yeah. There went my body. Running off to join the two other mutineers. Traitors, the lot of them.

“I’m trying not to be an asshole and let you decide when that happens, but it’s not going too well.” He looked at me hard.

“I seriously underestimated how incredible you are, and I don’t stand a fucking chance. No man does, but I’ll be damned if I let anyone get the opportunity to try but me.”