Highest Bidder (Fanboys Book 2) Read online

  Berta finally opened. Her expression was the most serious Tilly had ever seen and she wouldn’t meet Tilly’s gaze.

  “Berta? What’s wrong?” Tilly was about to step forward and embrace the woman. Sadness emanated from her so strongly, it was like the sun had dimmed a few thousand watts.

  Berta shook her head. Mr. Woods appeared behind the woman, his face stern, his suit buttoned, and not a hair out of place.

  “Tilly. You won’t be needed today.”

  Berta let out a strangled cry and shoved away from them. Tilly peered after her, then cast a questioning look at Mr. Woods.

  “Did something happen? Is Charlie okay?”

  He rose another inch, as if lording over her. “You of all people should know that answer.” Tilly cocked her head, opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, but he talked over her. “Your services won’t be needed here any longer. You’re fired, Miss Johnson.”

  “What? Why?”

  The door slammed in her face. She jumped back lest it hit her nose.

  Fired?

  The first feeling that emerged beyond confusion was relief. No more Mrs. Woods.

  Then shame came. No more Charlie. Tilly wasn’t arrogant enough to think that she was the best one to help him, but she was good, dammit. Really good at her job. She had a connection with the boy, a trust they’d built.

  No more chats with Berta. But no more dodging Mr. Woods’s advances. And no more steady client.

  She sighed and strode back to her car. The mother who’d called to hire her last week would help fill the pay gap. Still, she hated to lose the account.

  All businesses had setbacks, and if she was going to lose someone, the Woods were a good choice. They had found her through word of mouth from another client, so as long as she hadn’t done anything to get blacklisted, she was good.

  The drive home was filled with more pondering. It was harder not knowing why she’d been fired.

  She arrived home and parked. Worrying her lower lip, she glowered out of the window. How rude and unprofessional of Mr. Woods to treat her like that! No explanation. No notice. This was her livelihood. She wasn’t stupid rich like the Woods.

  What an ass.

  Before she got out, she dug through her tote for her phone. What was Flynn doing tonight? Would he care to hear about her woes?

  Missed calls popped up on the screen. Dammit. She shut her ringer off when she was working.

  She recognized two of the numbers as current clients. One had left a message.

  “Hi, Tilly. I’m really sorry. Um…we’re going to have to cancel all of our sessions. Your services are no longer required.”

  Services no longer required? What was going on?

  A text popped up from one of the missed calls. Please don’t come tomorrow. Or any other day. We’re done with tutoring.

  Another one?

  Tears sprang up. She sniffled. The tiny empire she’d busted her ass to build was crumbling and she had zero idea why.

  Pulling up the first number she’d missed, she called. Fire her over voicemail? Where was the respect?

  “Miss Johnson.” The grim tone of one of her favorite clients didn’t bolster her confidence.

  “Mr. Graham, hi. Can you let me know why you’ve decided to part ways?” She fiddled with her hair and racked her brain for ways to sound professional and not desperate. “I strive to keep improving my business and your feedback is valuable.” Because she’d lost three accounts in an hour.

  Mr. Graham huffed. “I can’t imagine why I have to explain. The safety of our daughter is our utmost concern.”

  “Why would you—”

  “Look, Miss Johnson, I’m not going to sit and debate this. I can’t have a woman suspected of beating a kid allowed to be alone with mine.”

  The air whooshed out of her lungs. “What?”

  But Mr. Graham had hung up.

  She sucked in a sharp breath. And another. If she kept doing it, she’d hyperventilate.

  Hyperventilating sounded good right now.

  Beating a kid?

  Who? When?

  She dialed the client who’d left the text. They didn’t answer.

  Dare she call Mr. Woods and ask for his specific reasoning? You of all people should know the answer. And he’d slammed a door in her face. A guy like him didn’t think he needed to answer to anyone.

  Beat a kid?

  She grabbed her tote and stomped into the house. Her phone buzzed. She fumbled to answer it.

  “This is Tilly.”

  “Oh…Uh, Miss Johnson. This is Samantha Kringle, we talked last week.”

  Tilly pinched the bridge of her nose before she let out a giant sob. “Yes, Ms. Kringle. How are you?”

  “Good. Well, I called to say we’ve reconsidered our need for tutoring. I’m afraid we’re not interested after all.”

  Tilly struggled to dam her tears. She shook from the effort. Squeezing her eyes shut, she asked, “Please be honest about why you’re not interested. There seems to be something circulating about me and no one will clue me in.”

  There was a beat of silence. “Well, the friends who recommended you said another family they know became suspicious when their son developed sores and bruises after your sessions.”

  Charlie? “And they thought I was hitting him? That’s a lie.” He had been injured before her time with him.

  “I—I don’t know what to believe. But I’m sure you can understand the position it puts parents in. We’ll have to find a new tutor. Goodbye, Miss Johnson.”

  Tilly tossed her phone on the couch and shrieked with fury and frustration. Instead of questioning her, Mr. Woods had fired her and then spread the word to other clients, who’d told other friends they’d recommended her to.

  She now had no summer income. The three other families she worked for would can her as soon as she explained what was happening. And Ms. Kringle was correct. If Tilly were a parent, she’d be overly cautious about protecting her kids from the ugliness she’d endured.

  There was no way Mr. Woods would find enough proof to press charges. She’d done nothing but teach and nurture Charlie.

  But so much damage had been done. She’d have to be honest with her full-time job, too, and let the principal know what was going on. Then she’d probably lose her position at the school.

  She sank into the sofa and sobbed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The restaurant bustled with activity. Fluorescent lights lit the mirrored columns and reflected off counters in contrast with the exposed brick walls, giving the bar an ultra-hip vibe. It wasn’t one of Flynn’s favorite places. Young entrepreneurs like him swaggered from entrance to table to barstool. They talked loudly, guffawed unnecessarily, and preened at their reflections.

  Flynn was one of them, but lately he’d felt disconnected from locales like this. John Woods probably thrived in an environment like this, where glad-handing was a pastime meant to drive the career train further and harder.

  He glanced at Tilly. She poked at her food with a fork. All the fire had been drained out of her and he’d hated bringing her here, but he’d been swamped in work when she’d called last night. He’d rushed over in time to hold her as she cried herself to sleep.

  Some asshole had accused her of abusing a child.

  The rage set his teeth on edge. He was 120 percent positive that the accusations were false. Why would someone destroy her life like that? She’d worked so hard for everything. It’d be like someone flouncing in and dismantling his construction empire with nothing but rumors.

  He’d had another full schedule today but had coaxed her out for food. Then John Woods had called for another meeting over drinks. The guy was getting relentless, like he wanted Flynn to be his wingman ever since the nanny had quit or gotten fired because maybe Mrs. Woods wasn’t as clueless as her husband thought she was.

  He hated bringing Tilly to a place like this, but he wouldn’t be done until who knew what hour, and it’d be too late to make su
re she’d taken care of herself. This way, she met him here and got out of her house, and he could still have his meeting.

  Seeing her so dejected tore him up. And she was so damn out of place here. Her butter-soft leggings with the Wonder Woman logo on them must’ve come from Arcadia. Mara wore similar ones. Tilly’s shirt was oversized and as bold as Tilly usually was.

  Not today.

  The ensemble didn’t stop the business-formal crowd from ogling her. The men’s gazes traveled up and down her legs. Like Flynn, they probably envisioned peeling them down and uncovering the present underneath. Flynn made sure to glare each one down. The women, too, if their gaze was anything beyond, hey, where did she get those awesome leggings?

  Tilly set her fork down with a resigned sigh.

  “You don’t like the chicken?” he asked. She didn’t have much time to eat before John arrived. Tilly didn’t need to deal with his presence, and Flynn didn’t feel like warding off comments from the guy. He couldn’t delude himself into thinking that the man would quit with sexual references when he saw Flynn was taken. John was married and open, to Flynn at least, about his trysts with the nanny. He could be lying, but Flynn doubted it. Men like John didn’t have to lie. They had the looks and the money and knew how to target those with similar ambitions or morals.

  It was likely what had attracted John to Flynn.

  Flynn scowled across the bar with that thought.

  He hadn’t been the only company bidding for the project. An international corporate construction company had fought hard for John’s business, but Flynn had wined and dined the man while pushing his company hard. We’re local. I understand what you need.

  Had John only seen a young man willing to sell out for money?

  No. Because that wasn’t Flynn. No matter his personal life, he made sure his work was tight and defensible.

  “I’m just not hungry.” Tilly caught the server. “May I get a to-go box?”

  Tilly slumped in her seat after the server left. “You don’t mind, do you? I don’t want to waste your money, but I also need to be thrifty since I have no income.” Her eyes glistened.

  “Tilly…” What could he say? It sucks. Shit happens but you’ll get through this. Look at everything you’ve gone through. You got this. It all sounded inane. Her career was destroyed, and she had nothing to fall back on.

  “So I’ve been looking up legal jargon. I haven’t been arrested yet and I think that’s a good sign.”

  “I can always help with that, get a recommendation from my legal team for a good lawyer.”

  Hope infused her gaze and it was the most life he’d seen out of her since the weekend. Then she glanced at her phone. “Oh, I gotta get going. I don’t want to tank your career, too.”

  He shook his head to tell her not to worry, but then his gaze caught on a man striding through the restaurant, an arrogant smile on his face as he checked out a millennial with mile-long legs sticking out from her skirt. Damn, he was early.

  John jutted his chin up when he saw Flynn.

  “I’m sorry, Tilly. My client’s here. And don’t worry about food. I’m not going to let you starve.”

  “Oh, no problem.” Tilly gathered her tote. “Anyway, he can ruin my career, but I don’t think he can get me arrested.”

  John drew even with the table, the arrogance fading from his expression the closer he got. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Miss Johnson.”

  Color leeched from Tilly’s face. Flynn’s stomach bottomed out.

  These two knew each other? And what the hell had John’s comment meant?

  “Mr. Woods?” Tilly’s eyes widened, a mixture of emotions making her irises gray. She turned her stare on Flynn. “You two know each other.”

  “This is who I was meeting,” Flynn said.

  A cruel sneer twisted John’s face. “I can’t stand even looking at you, Miss Johnson, but I shouldn’t be talking to you. My lawyer might be upset with me.”

  Oh shit. John Woods was the guy accusing Tilly of child abuse? How could that be?

  A cold wave of dread washed through him as he sat by and watched the two interact.

  “Your lawyer,” Tilly sputtered. “Wasn’t scaring all my business away enough for you? How could you think I’d do something like that to Charlie?”

  “I didn’t at first, I’ll be honest. But the week you were on vacation, he was fine. You come back, and he has black-and-blue marks all over his torso. I guess the ‘he hit his head during one of his fits’ excuse only worked a couple of times.”

  “I only helped Charlie. I would never hurt anyone.” She rose to face John. Flynn made to stand, but John held up a hand, his gaze calculating.

  “Have a seat and let me tell you both how it’s going to go.”

  Flynn bristled at the male’s tone, but John didn’t operate by the same moral compass as everyone else. Flynn had Abe’s advice running in a steady stream through his head. What would Abe say about Flynn’s largest account ruining his girlfriend’s life?

  He pulled Tilly down in the chair next to him. She stiffened at the force and he lightened his hold. To not hear what John had to say would be stupid. The entitled prick was like an evil villain in a TV show, monologuing his plan to show them how much smarter he was.

  John sat across from them, his face as cold as when he’d worked up the contract for his bank. “I’m surprised to see you two together.”

  “I didn’t hurt Charlie,” Tilly said through gritted teeth.

  John rolled a hard gaze toward her. “As you know, he’s nonverbal and can’t speak for himself. Therefore, he can’t tell me what you did. But since I contribute well to the officer’s association and the county attorney is an old frat buddy, they’re listening close to what I have to say. In four instances, my son had injuries after your visit. In two cases, you even cared for them and played them off as results of his condition. A truly deplorable tactic.”

  She clutched her hands around her tote. “It wasn’t me. And a deplorable tactic is trying to get an innocent person arrested when you know very well I can’t afford an attorney.”

  Flynn rested his hand on hers. He was on the verge of offering his help, but as soon as he did, he’d burn his dealings with John Woods to ash. The repercussions could be as devastating as what Tilly was going through. Only her business employed one person. He employed hundreds.

  The action didn’t escape John’s notice. “Mr. Halstengard, I certainly hope you don’t plan to use your access to quality lawyers to aid Miss Johnson in her fight. I can’t imagine the public taking kindly to such a prominent businessman helping a child abuser.”

  “John—” Flynn didn’t like threats, but the undertone of John’s words was clear. Help Tilly and he’d launch a smear campaign.

  John’s sharp gaze darted between him and Tilly. “What a small world. It makes sense, I guess. Do you know why I chose your company, Flynn? Because it was local. Because I looked into your past and knew that if you ever tried to fuck with me, I could just tell my good friend at the TV station about how you run a multimillion-dollar corporation, yet your sister’s in a state-run home, receiving not a dime from her dear brother.”

  Flynn’s world slowed. The thump of his heart grew until it drowned out all other sound. He withdrew his hand from Tilly’s.

  Struggling to regain his mental equilibrium, bits of information flowed in. John knew about Lynne. But he’d said “state-run home.” Lynne was supposed to be set up in a four-bed group home not far from his mom. A private-run facility Mom had complained cost a couple grand a month.

  “I thought your sister died.” Tilly’s voice broke through his haze.

  John laughed. “That’s rich. When I saw you together, I thought you’d bonded over your mutual mistreatment of the disadvantaged.”

  “Flynn?” Tilly tried again.

  Mr. Woods and his superiority complex grated on her nerves on a normal day. He turned his snide gaze on her. “Died? No, she suffered brain damage from a bo
ating accident. Flynn here hasn’t had a thing to do with her since.”

  “That’s not true,” Flynn bit out. His color was returning, but he still hadn’t looked at her.

  “Then when? When you put her in the home? How nice of you and your mother to let the taxpayers foot the bill. I’m sure future clients will think you’re the guy to entrust with all their money on a project.”

  His sister was alive? He’d let her believe she’d drowned. But apparently Lynne hadn’t. State-run group home? When Flynn had a house bigger than any of the group homes Tilly had ever seen? He could employ his own staff just for his sister, but he’d walked away.

  Mr. Woods switched his attention to her. “And you, Miss Johnson. I’ve already investigated your past. I should’ve done a more thorough job before my wife hired you, but finding someone for Charlie was so difficult.” Regret rippled over his face. The man was a complete bastard, but he cared about his son. If only he’d find out who’d really hurt Charlie. “But if you think about tapping into your boyfriend’s legal resources, think about how it will look for a girl whose own parents were scared of her being accused of thrashing an innocent child.”

  “What?” Several heads turned their way at her shout. How could he? It was almost laughable if her abuse hadn’t been so severe.

  “I had my investigator track them down. They had a lot to say. Killing stray cats? Miss Johnson, I won’t stop until you’re locked away for a long time. No one hurts my family.” He knocked on the table in front of a stunned Flynn. “Am I’m sure you heard what I was saying. Tread carefully. I will not let everything I’ve worked for suffer because of hateful individuals.”

  He got up, straightening his suit with curt, practiced actions. She flinched when his knuckle rapped the top of the table. He eyed them both before striding away.

  Tilly squeezed the handles of her tote and looked at Flynn. “He’s a monster.”

  Flynn nodded absently, his gaze on the tabletop.

  Had Mr. Woods been the one beating Charlie?