Working For My Arch Enemy

By Melinda Jenkins

Life has not always been easy for Rebecca. At the young age of fifteen, she learned that life is not always fair and to never trust anyone, not even your best friend.

 

Twelve years later she crosses paths with Cameron Fletcher, her childhood sweetheart, when she interviews for a position as his daughter's nanny. It's because of his family that hers fell apart. Seeing him again opens up all of the old wounds.

 

His life is perfect. He has a multi-billion-dollar company, a mansion, and an adorable daughter. Knowing his wealth was built at the expense of her family, she sets out to expose him and make him pay for the damage he has done.

 

The only problem is that her feelings for him have never quite died. As she moves forward with her plan, she must ask herself if revenge will really make her happy or if she should trust her feelings and take a leap of faith.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melinda Jenkins
• Release date: Dec 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215914250

Book preview

CHAPTER 2

Rebecca

12 years ago

I think about the kiss as I walk home. It still seems unreal. I thought I was the only one with feelings. It felt so right. I can’t wait until tomorrow night!

My thoughts take a darker turn as I approach our farmhouse. Something’s wrong. I can feel it. There are boxes stacked on the front porch, the door wide open. I hear my father yelling from inside and my mother crying. The last month has been really tense, but I just figured it was the drought. We’ve made it through worse summers. This is something else.

My father storms out onto the porch. Where have you been?

‘With Cameron, I stammer in confusion. I’ve never seen my father like this. What’s going on?"

A wild look of anger covers his face. Don’t ever mention anyone from the Fletcher family again! He grabs a box and carries it to the truck. I notice my mom’s SUV is piled up with boxes, too.

Dad, please tell me what’s going on. My voice is shaking, and I feel tears near the surface. I’m scared.

He walks past me back into the house. I don’t have time to explain. Go to your room and grab everything you can. We have to leave. 

I hesitate. 

Now, Rebecca! 

I jolt into action. For the first time in my life, I am afraid of my father.

I run into the house. As I pass by the kitchen, I stop. My mother is sitting at the kitchen table, tears streaming down her face. Her eyes are red and swollen. She’s been crying all day from the looks of it. Boxes surround her.

Gingerly, I sit down beside her and take her hand. Mom, I need to know what’s going on. Why is Dad so angry? Why are we packing? I can feel her hand trembling in mine. In my entire life, I have never seen my parents like this. My head is spinning. Deep within, I realize our world is crashing down around us.

My mother gives me a vacant look. George Fletcher took all of our money.

I draw in a sharp breath. That’s Cameron’s father. What? How can that be?

We’ve been struggling for a while, especially with the drought. George told your father about an investment opportunity. We pledged the farm as collateral, and George was supposed to manage the whole thing. Her voice is tight as tears threaten to overtake her again. He said it was a sure thing. We thought we were making a good decision, one that would help us. We trusted George, and he betrayed us.

I gape at her in disbelief. "How did he do it? Why did he do it?"

She grabs a fresh tissue. "He gave your father documents to sign. What they really did was give him control of the funds borrowed against the farm. We had an attorney trace it all out. He duped us. We should have had an attorney advise us then, not now. We wouldn’t be in this mess. She dabs at the corners of her eyes. I told your father we should do that before we signed, but you know he never listens to me."

I can hear cold anger behind her words.

Mom, this farm has been in our family since 1892. This can’t be happening!

She looks at me, her eyes dull. But it is.

Isn’t there anything else we can do? My brain searches frantically for solutions.

She shakes her head. It’s over. We’re supposed to be out by tomorrow. The bank is taking everything.

I stare down at the table. How long have you known?

A little over six weeks.

I feel anger begging to reach the surface. Why didn’t you tell me?

She pats my hand absentmindedly. This is adult stuff, sweetie. We didn’t want to worry you. We really thought it would be okay.

I yank my hand away from her, fury finally taking me over. "So you kept it from me, but now my life is being turned upside down in a single day. Yeah! This way’s a lot better! How do you think I feel? I stand up and start to pace. Ya’ll are supposed to be the adults!"

My mother looks at me, a threatening expression in her eyes. You might best remember that.

I am not about to be intimidated. Then do your damned job and adult! I growl lowly. Dad needs to stop yelling, and you need to stop crying. I can’t be the only one around here keeping my shit together!

Fire lights my mother’s face. Don’t you dare speak to me that way! You have no idea what it’s been like this last month!

I walk to the doorway, a coldness settling in. Where are we going?

She looks at me uncertainly, sensing the role reversal. My mother’s place in Virginia.

That’s a long way from Georgia…and Cameron.

I nod. I guess I had better start packing. As I start to leave, I glance over my shoulder. I guess I won’t be going to Cameron’s birthday party tomorrow night. In case you’re interested, I had my first kiss today. I was looking forward to telling you, but I guess it seems silly now.

My mother begins packing another box. It’s just a kiss. You’ll get over it. I did.

As I walk up the stairs, I think about Cameron’s new jeep. Did my family pay for that? He had to have known. To make it worse, he’d had the audacity to flaunt it in front of me! How could he? I methodically begin packing my belongings, my days of adolescence and innocence over in just a few short minutes.

CHAPTER 3

Cameron

Present

I rub my eyes. It’s been a long day. I stretch my arms behind my back, feeling it pop with the release of pressure. Between meetings and reviewing contracts, there has barely even been a moment to grab a bite to eat. My stomach rumbles, reminding me that the only thing I’ve had today is coffee. Lots of coffee.

I glance at my watch. It’s almost four. Where did the day go? My gaze rests on my favorite picture of Holly. She has her arms around Barkley, our rescue dog. I took this photo during one of our trips this summer to the house on Lake Oconee. Her hair is wet from swimming, and her cheeks are pink from a day out in the sun. Her eyes are full of the joy only a four-year-old can have, an innocence that will eventually be worn away by time and trials. I cherish this age. It won’t last forever. One day she will realize that she doesn’t have a mother like all of the other children. I dread that day. How do you tell a child her mother doesn’t want to be a part of her life? I don’t even know where she is anymore. I suppose she wants it that way.

I hear the rain tapping against the windows. It is light at first and then picks up intensity. As always, it beckons me. I walk to the window, pulled by memories I know are best kept in the corners of my mind.

I stare out at the Atlanta skyline. The sun lights up the western sides of the buildings, even as the rain falls all around. The Devil’s beating his wife. With every sunshower comes thoughts of Rebecca and the kiss we shared