Changing the bad boy

Chapter 14

PRESTON POV

"I'm all yours," she says. If I wasn't so frustrated and completely wound up about what she just told me that someone's been scamming millions of dollars off of us-I would've made that statement into some kind of s****l joke, but as it is, I can't even bother to go anywhere near it.

My heart is pounding, and my pulse is racing, yet it has nothing to do with any s****l innuendos.

I feel violated.

Betrayed.

So taken advantage of, I don't know whether to hit something or scream.

If Valerie is correct, Demers has been skimming

millions of dollars off the Paramount project. And that's way past a problem. That's a serious crime that requires police and a legal investigation. But before we get to that point and alert the authorities, I want to go through everything we have to make sure she's 100% correct and that everything we have is adding up. What she found makes sense, but I can't accuse someone of stealing from us and being wrong. I can't even bring it to my father's attention until I have sufficient evidence. He would disown me for even thinking the thought without proof. I know I need to dig through these documents with a fine-tooth comb, but there's a s**t ton of them, and I don't know how I'll find the time. We need to finish the Paramount as soon as possible because the clock is ticking for the Fifth Street project to start. Dad will hate anything that puts a wrench into the timeline.

While Valerie calls her brother, I bring all the documents she has collected into my office, since it's bigger than her desk. We'll have access to the electronic files on my computer and the ability to spread the printed documents out on my desk and the conference table. But it's not the only reason I want privacy. At this point, I don't know who I can or can't trust.

Fuck.

I run my hands through my hair after I put everything down on my desk. How the hell did we get to this point? Nobody, during this entire project, questioned where the money was going. And it's not like we're talking chump change. It's millions of dollars.

How did I miss that?

Valerie has only been here for just over a month, but she caught on to it. And that is just... f**k, it's impressive. I get that she's fresh new eyes on everything, and she gets to see the project as a whole instead of in pieces, but still. Impressive.

She's the only one who has recognized something was more than just wrong with this project, and she was curious enough to question

I shake my head at myself. I've underestimated her, and that makes me feel like a failure and a real asshole. She rubbed me the wrong way from day one, and now I wonder if my brother was right. Did my intense dislike for her have something to do with her not being impressed or infatuated with me? Because she never once acted star-struck, like most of the women I meet.

Am I really that shallow?

It hurts to consider that might be the truth.

I've never once been told no by a woman. Or had to work for it. The Cartwright name itself is a draw, and let's face it, I have a mirror. I know what they see. I'm attractive, like my brothers. Women have always come on to me. Except for Valerie.

She doesn't seem to care about who I am at all.

She takes direction fine, but sometimes she does it with her lips pressed tightly together like she's disapproving and keeping herself back from saying something inappropriate or insubordinate. Like she knows better. And then it's the fact that she's a bit of a mess. At times, she comes off as being completely incompetent. She has screwed up several appointments, failed to have my dry cleaning delivered on more than one occasion. She's been late for work. and she's been inappropriately dressed. Not that I cared too much about that one. She has a rocking body underneath her cheap business clothes.

It's just something about her that has me rattled. And now, impressed.

I look down at the documents she has marked with sticky notes. She's talking to her brother over by her desk, but I can't decipher what she's saying. I only know that her tone is upbeat and that she sounds eager, and that's good since I need her help.

I feel a tad guilty that I never realized she's a mom. But looking back, it makes sense and explains some of the strange things she has

done since she started here. She's been late, disheveled, and on personal calls, all of which I took as being unprofessional. But in reality, she was caring for and prioritizing her children the way a mother should. And that makes me strangely proud of her.

The way my mom should have.

What surprises me is that she's calling her brother. I haven't seen a wedding band on her left hand which means she can't have kids without being married -but where's the father? Isn't it his responsibility too? But then, as I think about it, my dad worked more than he was home when I was little. Not that my mom was too interested in raising

four boys on her own. My brothers and I saw our fair share of nannies.

Then again, Dad was successful. He'd made his first million by the time he turned twenty, and it just continued from there. Valerie seems to be struggling for money. So where is the father?

I question whether I should tell her to go home to her kids. That I'll be able to deal with this on my own, even if that'll be a stretch.But the look on her face when she offered to stay...She just seemed so eager, so determined to get to the root of the problem, and I could use her help.

I huff out a breath and sit down behind my desk.

knowing I'll be working late.

I start with Valerie's handwritten sticky notes and the change orders they're attached to and damn it, she's right. The labor rates on the subcontractor's invoices stayed the same, even though we were billed for a s**t ton of overtime.

That f*****g snake.

Valerie beams as she comes back into my office. "I can stay for an hour," she says, and she stops in front of my desk. "What can I do?"

I look up and meet her eyes. There's a fierce determination in them I recognize in myself.

"I'd like to see if these changes were noted anywhere, and if the overbilling continued throughout the project."

She nods like she agrees.

"My guess is it did," she says. "I have the estimates and invoices and all that organized by year on my computer."

And damn, she continues to impress me.

"I'll start with that," she says and gets up to go check.

"Thank you."

While she digs into that, I double-check everything she's already reviewed, and other than a minor miscalculation on one invoice, she's right on with Diane

"Hey Preston," Valerie calls out after it's been quiet for a while.

"Yeah?" I answer her.

"Did you delete the new folder that was set up on the shared drive a couple of weeks ago?"

"No," I respond, as I didn't even realize we had one. "I haven't touched anything on the shared drive."

"Hm," she hums. "That's weird."

"Why? What's on there?"

"I'm not sure. I never really looked." She reappears in my office. "But I'm thinking it was important because it's gone now."

"Gone?"

"Yeah. Someone deleted it off the server."

What the f**k is going on here? This whole thing is getting weirder and weirder by the minute.

"I think," Valerie starts but stops herself and begins to nibble on her bottom lip. I've noticed she does that when she's nervous or unsure.

"What?" I ask her.

Her teeth leave her bottom lip and she huffs out a small breath. "I don't want to accuse anyone, but it's so strange." She looks up and her eyes, which are more green than brown at the moment, meet mine head-on. "Do you think that maybe someone in accounting is in on this?"She scrunches up her face like she's ready for me to criticize her. When I don't, she continues, "Someone internally has to be involved, right? Someone that has access to everything and some decision-making authority."

My mouth falls open because f**k me. That makes total sense. How else would Demers have gotten away with all this?

My mind is spinning.

She's right again.

We must have a traitor in the company. In this building.

How the hell can that be?

"I better call Andrew," I tell her and get up from my chair. I shift some of the paperwork to the side to get my phone out from underneath it when Valerie shouts, "I printed it!"

She sprints out of the room like she's running a hundred-yard dash, her blonde ponytail swinging behind her, just to return a minute later with a blue folder full of paper.

"What..." I start but get too distracted by the way she waving the paperwork in the air.

"This is it," she beams.

My eyes flick over to her face. She's wearing a proud smile and f**k if that doesn't make me both pleased and turned on.

"I forgot," she continues, "but I printed everything the day I found the folder on the hard drive."

"The folder that's now gone?" I ask to clarify.

"Yeah," she grins.

"Oh, shit." I laugh and before I can think it through, I wrap my arm around her, and pull her into a half-open hug."That's awesome. Nice job, Val."

She laughs with me, the way she usually laughs with Andrew, and puts the folder down on my desk, but makes no effort to get out from underneath my arm.

And damn it. I like it.

I like her there.

Her body is warm and soft and fits perfectly against mine. She has a clean, flowery-scented perfume, which reminds me of a spring morning, and thoughts not related to work start to flood my mind. I watch the way her mouth moves as she laughs, and it has me thinking of putting my mouth on hers. I'm suddenly wondering what she would taste like.

My c**k swells in my pants as I imagine her in my arms.Us tangled in bed together, or her naked underneath me.

Fuck. The things I'd want to do her.

My phone rings in my hand startling me out of my head.

I rip my arm from Valerie's shoulders and swipe across the screen to answer.

"What's going on?" Andrew demands before I even have a chance to say hello or anything.

"What?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"You've called me twice and hung up. Is everything okay?"

I look startled at my phone."I did?"

"Come on, Pres," Andrew groans irritably. "What's going on? Why're you acting so weird?"

"Um..."

"Are you drunk?" he snaps when I hesitate.

"No."

I look over at Valerie. She's moved away from my side and is gesturing towards the door. "I have to go," she mouths.

"Hold on," I tell Andrew. Turning back to Valerie, I say, "Thank you so much for all of this." "Of course, you're welcome,"

she responds with a shy smile and f**k it if her cheeks don't go slightly pink, which has my d**k taking notice once again.

My mind immediately imagines her blushing while dropping to her knees in front of me.

outs 01 Valee my c**k in her mouth gets added to my spank bank and I'm glad she's walking away from me. With all the adrenaline running through my veins, I'm not sure I can control my actions, and I know from experience that these suit pants don't hide my erection.

"Preston?" Andrew questions, but I ignore him.

"I'll see you in the morning, "I tell Valerie.

I watch her as she hurries out of my office, the way her legs move and her ass swings seductively from side to side has more of my blood going south. I try to remind myself that she's going home to her children. To her family. And as much

as it annoys me, I don't know if she has a significant other waiting for her, but I'm going to find out.

"Preston, hello," Andrew calls again. "Are you having a stroke?"

That thought brings everything back to what an absolute s**t show we're in, and what a f*****g mess the Marramount project has become. My c**k quickly deflates, and I adjust myself in my pants.

"Are you home?" I ask Andrew, ignoring his questions.

"Yeah, Pres, what's going on?"

"I'll be there in thirty minutes. Call Haves and

Easton and tell them to meet us there."

"What.."

"Just do it," I demand.

"f**k," he sighs, knowing something is seriously wrong.