Up for Heir (Westerly Billionaire #2)

“Spencer—”

There was nowhere good the conversation could go, nowhere good it ever had. “Tell Alisha I’m happy for both of you. I’ll send your kid birthday gifts. That’ll have to be good enough.”

“Still no for attending our wedding?”

“Are we done? I need to get back to work.”

“It’s amazing how much you sound like our father.”

“He’s not my father.”

“Biologically no, but you inherited his asshole gene.”

“Fuck you.”

Brett laughed. “Hey, I have the same gene—in spades. I sounded just like you a year ago, but meeting Alisha opened my eyes. It doesn’t have to be like this. Family is what we make it, Spencer.”

“Good talk, Brett. Goodbye.”

Brett sighed. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Don’t bother. Spencer hung up. Brett never gave a shit about seeing me or Mom until Alisha told him he should. He falls in love, and all of a sudden he wants to pretend we’re close? It doesn’t fucking work that way.

Love.

All it does is fuck a man’s head up.

Spencer finished his beer, reached for another, and groaned as he remembered how that kind of thinking had driven him to step into the simulator. There was someone he needed to see. Her.

Hailey was my first. Two virgins. Of course we thought we were in love. I was happy I was finally getting laid. That’s all it was. If I met her now, I wouldn’t spare her a second look. I’ve been with women so beautiful I could almost taste the envy of the men around me. I’ve slept with some so talented they could have taught a course on how to give males multiple orgasms.

It probably wasn’t even as good as I remember it. And I can prove it.

Jordan had said he’d loaded the drive with Spencer’s old photos. “Run album two.” The walls around Spencer were replaced by the college quad setting Jordan had programmed in. He knew Jordan well enough to guess the language he would have written for commands. “Show Hailey Tiverton.”

“There are one thousand six hundred seven images detected and fifty-eight videos. Play through or isolate and merge?” a computer voice asked.

“Isolate and merge.”

“Location?”

With his heart racing, Spencer said, “Garage.”

The grass and college dorm buildings faded away, replaced by a representation of the computer lab he’d built in his mother’s garage. Although Spencer knew none of it was real, the experience of literally stepping into a memory was unsettling.

Then Hailey appeared on a stool. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her eyes were just as beautiful and deep blue as he remembered. His heart began to thud wildly in his chest just as it always had when she smiled at him. “Your mom said you skipped dinner, so I brought you a sandwich.” She held out a wrapped package, and his memory of that day came back to him in full force. “Put the camera down and eat something.” Her eyes twinkled, and she smiled at him as she said, “Or put the camera down and kiss me. Your choice.” Her delighted laugh echoed through him, and he remembered exactly what he’d chosen that day. His cock tented his pants in excitement.

Fuck, it was that good.

Her image faded away, and she reappeared in another outfit. This time she had an earnest expression on her face. “I feel silly, but if you think this will help, I’ll do it. You know I hate cameras. Don’t you dare show this to anyone. And I’d better not end up as an avatar. Unless you make me a kick-ass one. Then I guess I’m okay with it. Really? You need more? You’re lucky I love you.” She looked toward the entrance of the garage, and a huge smile spread across her face. “Jordan, save me. He’s working on that voice-to-face recognition software and filming me again.” Her laugh rang out and mixed with his and Jordan’s just before the vision faded away. Spencer’s chest tightened until he could barely breathe as feelings he’d thought were gone emerged in full force.

The next image of Hailey surprised Spencer. It was from a video project she’d helped him with a month after her father died. He remembered how sad she’d been after it happened, but he didn’t remember her looking as shattered as she did in the hologram. There were dark smudges beneath her eyes. She looked significantly thinner than she had in the earlier images. She’d always said she was fine, but she hadn’t been. Clearly.

The representation of her in the simulator was so real, it was as if he were in the moment with her, and the pain in her eyes tore through him. “Come meet my brother. You’ll love him.” He nodded. Of course he would go. Then regret filled him as he watched disappointment darken her eyes. He didn’t need to hear his own voice to remember what he’d said. She continued, “Of course. I understand. Maybe another weekend?”

She’d needed me. What the fuck had I been working on that was more important?

He’d always thought their breakup had come out of nowhere, but the beginning of it was right there in her eyes.

No wonder she left me for someone else.

“End album,” Spencer had said and strode out of the simulator.

In his apartment, Spencer rubbed a hand over his eyes as if that would clear the images still fresh in his mind. His phone beeped with a message. He checked it, then dropped the phone beside him on the couch. Monica was in town. Usually that meant a no-strings, mind-erasing fuck. She called whenever she was between boyfriends, and they had an understanding that was so easy Spencer never turned her down.

Until tonight.

Seeing Hailey again had left him in a funk. He laughed aloud with self-deprecation. Seeing her? I didn’t actually see her. I saw a video of her.

The real Hailey wasn’t that girl anymore. In fact, she was probably married with children. Probably to that dick she left me for.

Still . . . That shit was intense.

That realization changed his view of Jordan’s side project. Despite the time, he called his friend and left him a message: “Jordan, your album simulator is fucking genius. You’re right. It’s going to change the world. Call me.”





Chapter Three

A week later, Hailey accepted the hand of the formally dressed driver who’d opened the car door for her. “Thank you, Pete.” She slid out and stood on the sidewalk in front of a redbrick office building. He closed the door and said he would park but watch for her.

She’d told Mrs. Westerly she didn’t require a driver, but her employer had said that having one would allow Hailey to run errands more efficiently and she’d already hired a very nice man who’d been grateful for the work. Mrs. Westerly had ended all of Hailey’s protests when she added, “Should I tell him he doesn’t have the job? I’m sure he can find other employment.” She definitely knows how to manipulate someone into agreeing.

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