Read Online Books/Novels:
Dirty Rich Obsession (Dirty Rich #3)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:
A MAN OF CONTROL. A WOMAN WHO’S ABOUT TO TAKE IT.
Reid Maxwell is one of the top corporate attorneys and one of the most eligible bachelors in New York City. He likes his wins big, his women beautiful and in bed, not out, and most importantly the deep burn of his past buried. Until one woman, a most unexpected woman, challenges him in ways that might just destroy the invincible Mr. Maxwell.
Carrie West is captive to Reid Maxwell and a debt between their families she doesn’t know exists. It should be so simple for Reid Maxwell. Claim the company that is now his. The problem: he’s now obsessed with Carrie, the daughter of the man he’s destined to destroy.
Now who’s captive to who?
|Books in Series:|
|Books by Author:|
“You’re a true-blue prick, Reid Maxwell.”
“Finally, something we agree on,” I say, leaning back in my leather chair, the phone at my ear. A real estate investor who just lost his ass on the line. “And my client likes that I’m a prick. It works for him, not you. The thirty-day notice stands. We’re taking over that complex September first.” I hang up, my gaze lifting to the doorway to find my pain in the ass sister standing in the doorway, holding a garment bag.
“Forget it, Cat,” I say, tossing the pen in my hand onto the desk and leaning forward. “I’m not going to the party.”
“You have to go to the party,” she says, hanging the bag behind my door. “You’re being auctioned off for charity.” She stops in front of my desk, her dress a sparkling mix of pink and purple, while her blonde hair is draped over her shoulders. My sister is a beautiful pain in the ass. “Tonight,” she adds, stopping in front of me. “It happens tonight, and you’ve known about it for two months.”
“I said no about ten times.”
“This is me doing PR for the firm. It’s a big deal with lots of press. And you need good PR since our dear uncle and father got in all that legal trouble, because in case you didn’t know Maxwell, Maxwell, and Maxwell is a law firm.”
“That dear uncle, wasn’t our uncle, but a ‘friend’ of dad’s, he made us call him uncle as kids. And I use the term friend lightly, considering he committed crimes while working for us which is why he’s long gone and so is the scandal he created. And thankfully, since he recovered from his stroke, the only thing our father’s guilty of is being an ass.”
“Yes,” I agree without hesitation. “I’m an ass, but not like him.”
“Your own very special version of asshole,” she says. “Right. Check.”
I ignore that remark that. Where Cat is concerned, I deserve it and with growing regret. “Cat.”
“You write true crime novels and your ‘Cat Does Crime’ column. Exactly why are you heading this PR operation for a problem two-years old? You don’t work here. I tried to get you to work here, but you refused.”
“You tried to bully me into doing what you wanted, yes,” she agrees. “And I’m heading your PR efforts because obviously, you cannot. Asshole and PR are not two terms that fit together.”
“Well then, how does having me auctioned off help?”
“Women foolishly love arrogant asses,” she says. “You’ll get big bids and attention for the firm. Bids for charity which means good press. That means, we hope, good press about you and the firm. And since I know what motivates you, good press means more money for the firm and you. The biggest names in New York City will be present. I’ve already said all of this. If Reese wasn’t married, he’d do it for his firm, too. It’s the most eligible bachelor thing, and as you know, at thirty-eight, you’re still a bachelor.”
“I prefer most ineligible bastard, and as for Reese, I couldn’t give a shit what your asshole husband would do.”
“Is that right?”
I glance beyond Cat to find Reese standing in the door in a damn tuxedo that looks like a James Bond costume. Shoot me the fuck now. “If you don’t see asshole as the compliment I do,” I say, “you aren’t half the attorney I thought you were.”
“I’m a criminal law attorney,” Reese says, “not a corporate raider like you.”
“I don’t raid,” I correct. “I help those who do, and in the end, the companies become bigger and better thanks to my efforts.”
“Put your tuxedo on,” Cat says. “We leave in fifteen minutes.”
My brother, Gabe, appears in the doorway next to Reese, and of course, he’s wearing a tux. “Aren’t you pretty?”
“Prettier than you,” he says. “How about a wager to prove it? If I auction off for higher than you, I get that bottle of whiskey you’ve been hoarding. The Dalmore 50 Crystal Decanter.”
“That’s a twenty-thousand-dollar bottle,” I say.
“And?” Gabe presses.
“And bring it on,” I say, standing up and looking at Cat. “This is my last PR event ever.”
“It’s your first PR event.”
“Exactly,” I say. “Now all of you. Leave. I’ll meet you in the lobby in fifteen minutes.”
Everyone leaves but Cat. “The good press has already started.” She sets her phone in front of me, and I read the headline: The blond, thirty-something hunks of Maxwell, Maxwell, and Maxwell give it all for charity. I stop reading and look up at her. “Is this supposed to convince me to go or stay here?”
She laughs. “Oh, you blond hunk you. We both know you’re going.” She sobers abruptly. “Too bad dad won’t come.”
“If the idea is to keep the attention on us and off his misdeeds,” I say dryly, just as damn sober as her now, “then I think that’s smart. He’s not a dumb person. He had to suspect what his best friend, who was like his brother, was up to. I damn sure know what Gabe is into at all times.”