Dirty Past (2 page)

I take a deep breath and look around. The suite is spacious. A corner sofa on one side, a small kitchenette on the other, and a door just off of there leads to the bedroom. I dump the suitcase by the door and drop my purse on the kitchen counter.

Fear nothing, right? Yes—fear nothing. Except the four men I have yet to meet and the abundance of tasks I know nothing about. Sofie sent me a list, sure, but what about little things? Do I run for coffee? Water? Sandwiches?
Condoms?

Oh my God.
I’ve never bought condoms in my life.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Okay. I can do this. I can absolutely flip everything I’ve ever known upside down and live a completely different life. I
can
do this.

I wave my hands absentmindedly at my mental tangent and walk into the bedroom. One look at the queen bed and I’m kicking off my shoes and crawling beneath the covers.

A
loud knock on my door jolts me from sleep. What the . . . I roll out of bed and stumble through the suite to the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s Sofie!”

Oh. Crap.
I open the door, rubbing my eyes. “I’m sorry. I was sleeping.”

“Oh—shit. I’m sorry.” She covers her mouth with her hand. “I tried to call you but it went straight to voicemail.”

I pause, my knuckle digging into my eye. “Oh. Yeah. Um. I forgot to tell you earlier. I kind of don’t have a phone anymore.”

Sofie raises an eyebrow and walks into the suite. “Okay. What happened to it?”

“I, er . . . I threw it into the river.”

“As in . . . the river in front of the hotel?”

“That would be the one.”

Her lips twitch. “I’m sure there’s a story there somewhere.” A giggle escapes. “But I’m not going to push you. Not right now anyway.” She grins, and it’s so infectious I can’t help but smile back. “I just wanted to tell you we’re having dinner downstairs tonight. In, like, fifteen minutes, actually.”

“Oh, it’s okay. If you could give me a few minutes, I can freshen up now.”

“Great!” She sighs happily. “Conner has Mila and it’s the happiest I’ve seen her all day.” She drops onto the sofa, locates the remote, and turns on the TV.

I smile and grab hold of my suitcase. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Take your time. They won’t do anythin’ without us if they know what’s good for ’em.” She winks over her shoulder.

I wheel the suitcase into the bedroom and drop it onto its back. I close the door quietly, then rifle through the case for a summer dress and clean underwear. The bathroom is large and glittering white, the brightness almost blinding as I change and freshen up. A touch-up of mascara and I’m ready.

Ready to go and meet the band that three-quarters of America have their panties all bunched up over. My new employers.

I look in the mirror. My dark hair falls softly around my face. My eyes are full of freedom, something that hasn’t been there for two years. I swallow, and my tongue flicks out to wet my lips several times as I leave the bathroom. I hesitate by the bedroom door—I’m still insane. Still completely, utterly, certifiably insane.

“Hey, Ella? Are you ready? Apparently my daughter is screaming the place down for her pizza.”

“Oh, yes. Sorry. Just . . . I don’t know.” I shrug a shoulder and follow Sofie into the elevator.

She glances at me knowingly. “Scared?”

“Uh, not in the way you’d think.” I smile reluctantly. Because I’m not.

I’m not afraid to meet America’s hottest crush. I’m afraid to be in a room full of several men I’ve never met in my life, which is ridiculous, because I’m not in danger here. I’m safe, hidden away, in a world entirely different from my own.

But my body wants me to look over my shoulder, just in case.

“They’re not bad. Well, most of the time. I promise. Come on.” She takes my hand with a beaming grin and opens the door to the private dining room. Noise fills it—laughter, toddler giggles, loud, booming male voices—but they all silence when Sofie yells, “Hey! Hey!”

Four sets of eyes land on us.

“Now y’all better be nice or I’m gonna kick some butt,” she says firmly, tugging me beside her. “This is Ella. She’s your new PA.”

Conner Burke is the first to stand and offer me his hand. I shake it, then he tugs me in for a hug.

“It’s great to meet you, Ella. If we get too demandin’, just tell us where to go.”

“Someone’s suckin’ up because he wants to get laid tonight.” There’s a chuckle from the corner, then movement. Kye Burke approaches me with a cocky grin, and before he can say a word, Sofie slaps his arm.

“Try it. I dare you.”

Her tone stops him dead, because he holds his hands up and shrugs. “I wasn’t tryin’ anything, Sof. I was coming over to be nice.” He shoots me a wink. “Kye.”

“Hi,” I say quietly.

“Ignore him.” Aidan Burke, Kye’s twin, stands in front of me. “He thinks he’s the big man, but he’s still stuck in puberty.”

“Y’all are gonna get my shoe up your butts in a minute. Stop trying to hit on her. S
he works for you,
” Sofie snaps. “Ads, sit down before I make you.”

“Sof, you’re five foot nothin’.”

“I’ll be five feet of terrifying if you don’t start actin’ like a gentleman. All of you.” She sweeps her eyes over the three single Burke brothers. “Tate? Your manners get lost inside your beer bottle?”

Aidan sniggers and sits back down.

“Tay! Be nice!” Mila calls from the corner, smacking tiny hands against the high chair tray. “You nice!”

I hide my laughter behind my hand. Conner catches my eye and winks at me.

“Well?”

“Fine.” A beer bottle hits the table, and my eyes fall in the direction of the sound.

And, oh.

Okay.

Turquoise eyes the color of the ocean at the height of summer stare back at me with a brooding glint. His dark hair is spiked to the side, rough stubble lines his jaw, and his lips curve up to one side when his eyes connect with mine. My gaze drops to his body, because I can’t help but look at the tattoos that cover his arms, the full sleeves stopping in perfectly straight lines at his wrist. I can’t make any of the designs out, except for a few music notes on the inside of his left forearm. And, oh man, he has nice arms. And shoulders. And stomach. But it doesn’t matter.

Because Tate Burke is walking right up to me.

Tate

Long, dark hair. Mesmerizingly dark eyes. Pouty pink lips. A soft jaw. Eyelashes longer than a doll’s.

And a really great fucking pair of tits.

This is my new PA? And I’m expected not to fuck her.
Good job
, Sofie. Good damn job.

I approach her, this Ella, and stop in front of her. Her eyes climb up my body until they meet mine, and she holds my gaze steadily. No wavering, no lip quivering, no blushing. If it wasn’t for the way her tongue is flicking against her bottom lip, I’d say she couldn’t give a shit she’s standing in front of me.

“Ella,” I say slowly, trying her name out. It rolls off my tongue perfectly. “Hey.”

“Hello,” she replies demurely, holding my gaze for a second longer.

Demure. Shit. I don’t do demure. But then again, I can’t do her, so what does it matter?

“You think you can keep up with a rocker’s lifestyle?”

“I’ll give it my best shot.”

My lips tug to the side. “I’m sure you will, darlin’. Are you used to showin’ girls out of hotel rooms?”

“Not particularly, although I’m sure it’s something I’ll have to get used to pretty quickly. Am I right, Mr. Burke?”

Mr. Burke?
What the fuck? “My name is Tate.”

“To those close to you, and forgive me for saying so, but I’d rather like to keep my distance.” She smiles, unruffled, and steps to the side. “It’s really great to meet you all. I’m sorry we’re late. It’s my fault.”

She pulls out the spare chair between Sofie and Kye and, smoothing her dress under her ass, takes a seat. She sweeps her hair around to one side, exposing her neck to my line of view as I walk around the table and sit back down.

Shit. What’s with the hot PAs? Can’t we hire some ugly-as-shit girl? Someone I won’t want to flip on their back every time they walk into a room? I can already tell Ella is going to be more of a problem than Jenna was when we first hired her.

Ella’s gonna test my resolve, pushing at patience I don’t fucking have.

She smiles widely at something Conner says. Yep. She’s gonna be a fucking pain in my ass—just because of her existence.

“You look like you’re ready to get to know her,” Ads mutters and leans over. “And not in the way the rest of us are.”

“Fuck you,” I reply. Grabbing my beer, I bring the bottle to my lips and swig. “Next time, I’m hirin’ the fuckin’ assistant.”

Kye snorts. “Sofie gave you the chance this time. You were busy with, what’s her face? Angelica?”

“Who the hell is that?”

“Stacy? Nora? Penelope?”

I point the neck of the bottle in my brother’s direction. “Penelope. She sounds familiar.”

Ads chokes and knocks his fist into his chest. “Jesus. Why doesn’t this prick have a little black book yet?”

“Rumor has it that they don’t make them big enough,” Ella chimes in.

I dart my eyes across the table to Ella’s, ignoring my brothers’ laughter. At least Sof tries to hide hers.

Ella’s lips curve up around her glass of wine. She takes a small sip, her eyes dancing with unrestrained amusement, and I lean back in my chair.

“Mr. Burke, and now this? I don’t think I like you very much already.”

Her smiles widens, and she sets her glass down. “Good. Then I already accomplished the first job on my list.”

“You.” I turn my attention to Sofie. “You’re on the top of my shi—eet list,” I correct, glancing toward Mila. “Right at the top.”

Sofie sips her drink, completely unaffected by my words, and I turn my attention back to Ella. Whatever bravado she had just seconds ago is gone, because instead of looking at me, she’s staring at the table.

I lean back in my seat and keep my gaze trained on her. She calls me out, then refuses to look at me? Fuck no. If you’re gonna sass me, keep it the hell up. Don’t back down—and if you’re gonna, don’t fuckin’ start sassing in the first place.

If this is gonna be a pattern, she’s gonna last all of a week as our personal bitch.

The waiter comes in and takes our orders one by one. Still, I look at Ella, waiting for her to look back. She doesn’t. She keeps her gaze firmly on the menu, her voice quiet and hesitant as she orders. My head tilts to the side.

How the fuck
can
she sass me so bad and then turn into a motherfucking mouse?

“Filet mignon. Medium rare.” I hand my menu to the waiter over my shoulder. He takes it and presumably writes my order down, because he leaves the room a minute or so later.

“Pizza, Dadda! Pizzaaaaaaaaa!” Mila bangs her high chair tray like a drum set, and Aidan snickers from next to me. Conner shoots him a hard look as he soothes Mila by passing her a juice box from her bag under the table. Sofie leans in to Ella and they share a smile, and Kye turns to me, but I cut him off.

“Where are you from, Ella?”

“New York.” Her answer is barely audible across the table and the level of chatter.

“Where?”

“Manhattan.”

“Rich man’s playground.”

“Yes.” She grabs her glass, still looking at the fucking table, and ends our conversation.

I tap my fingers against the tabletop. Fuck, I hate it when people don’t look at me when I talk to them. I especially hate it when a girl fucking ignores me so blatantly. I can’t fuck her, sure, but it doesn’t mean I can’t make her putty in my goddamn hands.

It doesn’t mean I can’t sweet-talk her hoity-toity ass into bending to my every whim and desire.

“Eyes down, bro,” Kye mutters.

“To her tits? No problem.” I laugh.

“To your beer bottle, asshole,” he responds with a laugh of his own. “She’s off-limits.”

“Never been very good with those limit things.” I swig from my beer bottle. “They get in the way.”

“No shit,” Aidan adds in a low voice. “That’s the fuckin’ point.”

I cut my eyes to him, smirking. “You are a genius, Ads. Fuckin’ unbelievable.” He flips me off in response, and my gaze finds Ella. “She’s odd, huh?”

“Odd because she isn’t on the floor panting with her legs open?”

“That, too. No—she’s quiet, don’t you think? I just tried bein’ a nice little boss and she fucked me off.”

“That’s because you’re a jackass,” Kye inputs. “Watch and learn.” He turns his attention from me to Ella and taps her arm.

Slowly, she faces him with a hesitant smile. “Yes?”

“Where’d you go to college?” Kye dives right in. “Sorry,” he adds when she blinks harshly. “Just wanted to know more about you. That’s all.” He follows his words with a charming smile, and she relaxes.

“Oh, I’m sorry. It caught me off guard.” She straightens in her chair. “I studied at Harvard and am preparing for school.”

Conner chokes on his beer. “No way. What the fuck are you doin’ here sortin’ our shit out for?”

“Bad Dadda!” Mila gasps, pointing her finger at Conner. “Bad!”

Ella’s smile widens, just a little. “I needed a change of scenery.”

Dirty little liar.

“All the boys in Manhattan too clean cut for you, darlin’?” I ask across the table.

“Actually,” she responds calmly, folding her napkin in front of her, “you could learn a thing or two from them, Mr. Burke. Like manners.”

“I’d love to, but men don’t take lessons from boys.”

“Tate, you’re about as manly as a goldfish,” Sofie butts in. “The day Mila finally liked you, you sang nursery rhymes for two hours and built sandcastles with her for four. Oh, and didn’t you dump Nina because she messed with your family?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Doesn’t mean a thing, Sof,” I throw back.

“Whatever. Lay off Ella and find some other girl to release your obvious frustration on.”

Our eyes meet in a tense stare that’s only broken by Mila’s excited shriek when our food is brought in. Sofie drops her eyes to the plate of pizza in front of her and grabs her knife and fork to cut it, ending our wordless battle as easily as she ended the conversation five seconds ago.

Being soft with a two-year-old girl is way different from being soft with other people. She’s so damn blinded by my relationship with Mila that she forgets I was a total fucking asshole to her for years.

Once again, my gaze flicks to Ella, but hers is firmly focused on her plate. I grab my fork and look at my own dinner. Sofie, Aidan, Kye, Conner . . . she looks at all of them when she talks to me. Like I’m a piece of fucking shit not worth being on her shoe.

Ella’s soft spoken, but it’s controlled and precise. Like every word is prepicked, and she’s trying not to offend. Hell, even when she says something that could be offensive it’s nice as fucking pie.

I don’t believe she wants a change of scenery. You don’t go from the bright lights of New York and the harsh regime of Harvard to being a runaround for a band. It sure as hell isn’t for the money we’re paying her either. She’s already admitted to a privileged upbringing, and if she didn’t, it’s obvious as fuck from that perfect hairdo and that damn dress.

All she doesn’t have is a sense of entitlement.

The girl is one big motherfucking enigma, and hell if I don’t want to crack her code, if only to get under her skin and piss her off.

Empty plates are cleared from the table, and Sofie darts around Conner to clean Mila’s sauce-covered hands and face with a wipe. Or five wipes, as it turns out. Sofie mumbles to herself about “freakin’ pizza” as she balls the wipes up and leaves them on her side plate. Ella watches them with a light smile, but it drops when she glances at me and sees me watching her.

Our eyes meet for a split second, but something flashes in hers. Something that doesn’t usually glint in girls’ eyes whenever they look at me, so it’s sure as hell not good.

“Sofie,” she says softly, turning away from me. “I’m going to head back upstairs. It’s been great to meet everyone, but I need to arrange for a new phone and credit card.”

Sofie nods without questioning her. “Of course. I’ll stop by your room at nine tomorrow. The guys will be practicin’ all day, which translates to us running around like headless chickens after them.”

“We ain’t that bad,” Conner grumbles.

Sofie raises an eyebrow, but she doesn’t respond.

Ella smiles. “Sounds like . . . fun. Night, everyone.” She stands, waves awkwardly, and heads out of the room.

Why does she need a new phone and credit card?

“Where are you goin’?” Sofie sighs heavily, looking at me.

I get up and flatten my hands on the table. “I’m goin’ to tell her what you forgot—that she’s our employee and we’ll get her a fuckin’ phone and credit card if she needs one.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, I could tell her, but she’d laugh at me. I can tell.”

“Sure she will. You’d give up convincing her after one ‘no.’ ” I pause at the door. “But she’ll do whatever the hell I say because I’m her boss.”

“Don’t be a dick!” Aidan yells after me.

“Tay! Ad! No!” Mila rambles. “Bad!”

I swallow my laugh. Damn, that kid is something else. She’s a fucking star.

I walk through the restaurant to the lobby and see Ella leaning against the reception desk, nodding at something the receptionist says. Without the judgment of my brothers, I stop and look at her. Her hair falls halfway down her back, and her dress clings just tightly enough that I can tell it’s concealing a fucking killer body—and her legs go on forever. Aw, hell.

She smiles and straightens, turning for the elevator. I jog across the lobby and beat her to the button, my thumb pushing it just seconds before hers does.

“Oh. Hi.”

My lips tug to the side. “Hi.”

“Are you following me?”

“No, darlin’. I’m the followed, not the follower.” I put my hand on the side of the door and let her walk into the elevator before me. I push the button to the fourth floor and lean against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Obviously. Well, can I help you with something?”

There are so many fucking things she can help me with, namely my rapidly hardening cock.

“Dangerous question,” I remark, ignoring her subsequent eye roll. “You said you need a new phone and credit card.”

“Correct.” She tucks some of that dark hair behind her ear.

“Sofie should have told you that we’ll arrange that. For as long as you work for us.”

“That isn’t necessary, Mr. Burke. I’m perfectly fine doing it myself.”

“Sure you are, Ella, but you’re not going to. You’re our employee and we’ll take care of you.” And boy oh fucking boy, would I love to take care of this chick.

“Well, thank you, but like I said, it isn’t necessary.” She smiles shyly and steps out of the elevator ahead of me.

My jaw clenches. I don’t give a fuck if it’s necessary or if she wants it or not. “They’ll be in your name. We’ll take care of the phone bill, but the credit card is on you.”

Her shoulders heave and she turns her head halfway over her shoulder, her eyes on my feet. “Thank you, but no thank you.”

She slides her key card into the slot, but before she can open the door, I snatch her hand away. She flinches in shock, and I spin her so she’s facing me. Still, though, her eyes are on my shoulder.

“When you wake up tomorrow there’ll be a phone and credit card in reception waitin’ for you, and you will take it. And, Ella?” I cup her jaw and force her eyes upward. They crash into mine, blazing with annoyance, and I tilt my face toward hers, enjoying the hitch in her breath. “For someone concerned about my manners, you have a serious lack of them. When I talk to you, you fuckin’ look at me. Understand?”