Reign on Me

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Reign on Me Page 31

by Zoe Devereaux


  “I was just going to say that I really enjoyed your speech the other night,” she said shyly. “It was very moving.”

  “Hell, I just told the truth. It wasn’t scripted or thought out. In that moment, I wanted to just say how I felt.” Shrugging as if it weren’t a big deal, he took up the wine glass. After taking a fast sip, he placed it on the table again before leaning back in the chair. “Still, though, sometimes, I feel like I’m living and operating in a foreign world. While I’ve changed in many respects, the old me still breathes behind the polite smiles and fancy Armani suits.”

  “The old you?” she asked gently. “What do you mean?”

  “The one who struggles to say and do the right thing,” he said openly, swirling the wine in the glass gently. “The insecure bastard that’s wondering if the whole world thinks that he’s a fake.”

  “You’re not a fake.” Her eyes softened. “You’re a man with a past. But, who doesn’t have one?” She raised her own glass to her lips. “Want to know what I think?”

  His stare challenged hers across the table. “What?

  “I think that you’re courageous and strong. How could you not be considering how fast you’ve turned your life around? I mean, I know little to nothing about your life story. But, I know enough to understand that you’re not going to let your past define you in anyway. You’ve made a way.” Her impassioned gaze clung to his. “And now, you’re changing your past negative into a huge positive. Think about all of the kids that you’re helping at Stedman. You’re showing them that they have an out. You’re showing them that they have a chance.”

  “You know what, princess?” he said, eyes twinkling. “If nothing else, you’ve always been good for my fucking ego. Whenever I’m in doubt, you show me that I have no reason to be.”

  “Remember what you told me once?” she said softly, not realizing that her brown eyes sparkled across the table. “You said that I needed to say to goodbye to my insecurities and embrace the real me. Well, I think that it’s high time that you do the same. You’ve worked hard for this second chance. Grant yourself the freedom to live it. If there’s anyone that deserves it, it’s you.”

  Stunned by her own veracity, she fell silent.

  He allowed the quiet.

  A strange current passed between them.

  They embraced it secretly, or so they thought.

  But, anyone near them could sense their powerful pull and connection. Still, though, they willingly and valiantly fought to exist in reality. For being imprisoned in that all-consuming world of them again would be too dangerous.

  There’d be no escaping this time.

  The maitre d arrived with their food.

  Throughout dinner, they conversed lightly and gave themselves the opportunity to enjoy themselves without being under scrutiny. When he passed a joke, she smiled freely at him across the table. When the discussions veered toward a more serious topic, he was fully engrossed.

  After they’d started on the second bottle of wine, she realized that they hadn’t even discussed the programming at all.

  “So, when will Stedman host our kids?” she asked, initiating the topic with a guilty flush. Of course, this was why they were meeting to begin with, right? “Many of them have heard about the place, and they can’t wait to be there.”

  Sighing, he gave her a thoughtful frown. “We’re booked up for the next week.” He whipped out his cell phone. “Let me check the calendar.”

  She nodded. “Alright.”

  While he perused through the cell phone, she studied him across the table. Again, she couldn’t stifle the giddy feeling or halt the flitting butterflies in her abdomen.

  She tried not to stare as he looked up.

  “How about the week of the 23rd? We’ll bus them over, give them the opportunity to meet the mentors, have a little food and fun, and then we’ll go from there. What do you think?”

  “It sounds good to me,” she agreed readily, adding the dates to her own calendar. Then, she was about to slip the cell phone back in her purse, but then, thought better of it. “I’ll work out a tentative itinerary, and if you don’t mind, I’d like for you to look over it.” A hot flush stained her face. “Do you have a number or email that I can contact you with?”

  A light flickered in his eyes, and he masked it quickly. “I was about to make that suggestion. I’ll give you my personal number and email.” He paused. “And if you don’t mind sharing yours, I’d like that, too. That way, we can share information easily and at any time.”

  “Right,” she said breathlessly, meeting his eyes again, and then, her nervous gaze skirted away. “I’ll give you mine first. My phone number is (404) 463-2400 and my email is [email protected].”

  “Alright,” he mumbled with a slight frown, keying it in. “Mine is (601) 672-8897. Email address is [email protected]. Oh, and the number to Stedman’s is (313) 541-0987.”

  Fighting to keep a straight face, she keyed the phone numbers and email address into the contact list. The addy was very interesting, that is if you played close attention to it. In fact, it signified an outright defiance to his troubling past: ‘reignnomore’ really read as “reign no more”. “All done,” she replied quickly, pushing a loose curl behind her ear. “And you have the church number, right? You can contact me there, too.”

  “Yeah, I have it already.” Leaning back, he extracted his wallet from his pocket and then took out a business card. Then, clamping it between two fingers, he passed it across the table. “There’s my business card. If the need arises where you need to stop by my office for anything, feel free.”

  She slipped it into her purse. “Thank you. It’s good to have various communication methods.” She hesitated briefly. “While you’re in Cartersville, do you plan on staying at the hotel?”

  “Since it’s temporary---yes. There’s no point in getting an apartment when my time in Cartersville will end eventually.” His stare held longer than it should have. “After the hotel completion, there’s nothing holding me here.” Then, he cleared his throat noisily and broke the contact. “So, for the time being, Willington Inn is home whenever I’m here.”

  But, it was too late.

  She’d already deciphered the hidden meanings in his carefully chosen words. Basically, what he was asking for was a reason. Surely, he hadn’t been hinting at her! If so, it was unconscionable.

  Yet, why did that idea thrill her?

  He leaned back further in the chair, and then his gaze fell on the engagement ring. Then, his expression became unreadable. “So, when’s the big day?”

  At the mention of her engagement, she snapped back to reality. All night, what had she been doing? Foolishly acting as if she weren’t about to become a married woman?

  “We, uh, actually haven’t set a date yet,” she murmured with a deep flush. “We’re waiting for the right time. Marriage takes a considerable amount of planning and thinking.”

  “There’s no doubt about that. But, that viewpoint makes marriage sound like a business arrangement and nothing more.”

  “Of course, it’s more than that.” Her flush deepened. “But, there are many aspects to marriage that require careful consideration, obligations, and order.”

  “What about passion, love, and romance?” he probed, propping his elbow against the arm’s chair, and passed her an inquiring look. “Where do they fit in the intricate puzzle?”

  “They’re naturally a part of it,” she said primly, lifting her chin. “Marriage, however, shouldn’t be bogged down with a sole focus on the flesh. There are intellectual counterparts that must be attended to.”

  “What playbook did you get that from?” he frowned in thought. “As a matter of fact, it seems like rehearsed dialogue. That means, they are words that you’ve heard spouted from other people.” He passed her another long look. “While you’re reiterating them with gusto, deep down, I don’t believe that you agree with that assessment at all.”

  “I’m a woman of faith—�


  “That doesn’t mean that you don’t have feelings like any other woman,” he argued frankly. “Are you really supposed to cut yourself off from true happiness and the joys of life? The type of marriage that you’re describing, it’d never work for you.”

  “Why?” she asked bluntly. “And how would you even begin to know what I wanted?”

  “That brief time that we were together, I learned more about you than you even want me to know. You are a very passionate woman. The wrong thing that you could do is cut yourself off from your true self.”

  “I don’t appreciate where this conversation is going. Better yet, this isn’t the type of conversation to have with your fiancé’s brother.” Her hands trembled as she grabbed the wine glass from the table. “So, why don’t we just drop it, okay?”

  The wine was lukewarm to the taste. Perhaps, it was too closely aligned with her true feelings for Richard, she realized with dismay, taking a huge gulp. Christopher’s arrival into her life again was forcing her to acknowledge it.

  “You’re right. It’s not any of my business how you handle your affairs. I’m sorry if I overstepped my boundaries.” He took a fast swig of the wine. But, still, it seemed that he was a tad bit on edge. “I promise that it won’t ever fucking happen again.”

  “I don’t want to argue about this or anything,” she said softly, staring at him across the table. Suddenly, it hurt to look at him, and every emotion that she struggled to keep at bay was threatening to break free. “But, in the future, it may serve us well if we don’t discuss such personal matters—“

  “And there’s my beautiful bride to be.”

  Startled, they both looked up, only to see Richard approaching with a very attractive woman in tow, and their attention was dead centered on them.

  Alyssa Johnson, she mulled, recognizing the legal eagle quickly. Like Richard, she was a junior attorney at Stevens & Stevens Law Firm. At thirty-five years old, the blue-eyed brunette was stunning to say the least. Tall, elegant, and graceful, she could easily be the cover model for a fashion magazine. Her skin was flawless and perfectly made with the just right strokes of make up. Tonight, she was dressed in a simple black dress and two-inch heels, and her hair was curled with bouncy ringlets. In the heels, she stood at the same exact height with Richard.

  One thing for certain, the attorney had her sole attention focused on Christopher, she thought, sipping on the wine again, and felt the stirrings of jealousy.

  Jealousy that she had no right to feel…

  As they reached the table, Christopher stood politely while she pasted a smile on her face.

  “Christopher, good to see you,” Richard said and shook his hand. Then, stepping around the table, he bent down before giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek. As he straightened, he passed a look between them. “We finished earlier than planned, got hungry, decided to grab a bite, and then I remembered that you were here. Mind if we join you?”

  For some reason or another, she was suddenly tongue-tied, she realized, striving for normalcy. However, there was nothing normal about the situation at all.

  “Of course, not,” Christopher said smoothly and caught the maitre d’s attention. Now, he was all business-like and polite. In fact, his features had tightened somewhat, showing just a hint of tension. But, only someone who knew him well would realize that. “We’ve finished up here.”

  The maitre d stopped at the table. “Sir, what may I get for you?”

  “These guests will be joining us. Can we have additional seating, please?”

  The maitre d nodded. “Of course.”

  Within moments, the maitre d returned with the chairs and quickly set them in place.

  Giving a polite gesture, Christopher ushered Alyssa to the chair beside his while Richard plopped down in the chair beside her. Now, they surrounded the table, and the air of intimacy that’d been there earlier dissipated entirely.

  “Where’s your father?” Richard frowned at her. “I thought that he was supposed to be here.”

  “One of the church members has a death in the family,” she explained. “He went to offer his condolences.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. We’ll pay our respects tomorrow sometime.” Pausing for minute, he went on again. “Where are my manners? Allow me to make some quick introductions,” Richard added quickly, leaning close to her, and then grasped her hand before caressing it lightly. “Alyssa, you already know my beautiful fiancée, Hayven. And that charming brute beside you is my brother, Christopher. Christopher meet Alyssa. Alyssa meet Christopher.”

  Across the way, his gaze dropped to their joined hands. Then, for a brief second, he centered his attention on her engagement ring. Tightening his jaw, he looked away from them momentarily. Pray tell, it seemed that he was mentally preparing himself.

  Their eyes met across the table.

  Her heart dropped.

  The disappointment filled her.

  Gone was the man who’d sat across from her earlier.

  He’d been replaced by an aloof and unapproachable stranger.

  Now, he regarded her coolly.

  If there were any emotion there, he concealed it well. Still, though, her inner voice warned, a flicker of anger lit his eyes at intermittent points.

  Swallowing hard, she looked away.

  Dear heavens, the situation was more than difficult. Being with the man that you were with, yet longing for another…

  A guilty flush spread across features, compounding her shock. Why did she feel like she was betraying him rather than Richard?

  The daring, clarity-rich realization was slain with Alyssa’s untimely interruption.

  “Why Richard,” Alyssa teased in her northern brogue, New York perhaps, and passed an appreciative glance at Christopher. Then, giving a flirtatious smile, she batted her perfectly curled eyelashes at him. “You’ve been holding out on me. You never mentioned that your brother was this damn kick-ass hot.”

  “I’m afraid that he’s been rather erroneous by keeping me in the dark as well. He neglected to mention that he works with someone, who’s obviously both talented and beautiful,” Christopher said suavely, turning towards her. A devilish gleam shone in his eyes as he grasped Alyssa’s hand and bestowed a kiss against it. “But, it seems that fate has rectified the moment and caused our meeting. As clichéd as the saying is, it’s true in this case. The pleasure is mine.”

  She watched them across the table. In a flash, her jealousy rushed in and reared its ugly head. The dark, selfish feeling clashed with her guilt. The former emotion shouldn’t have been the dominant feeling. Shamefully, she realized that it was. Staring at them helplessly, she couldn’t escape the very torture of watching them. So, all throughout their interactions, she covered her dismay with a wobbly smile.

  The minutes ticked by.

  Nearly an hour passed.

  She nodded politely and added a point or two while Richard conversed. But, her attention was held hostage by the duo sitting opposite of them. With every passing second, their flirtatious banter stifled her more, and she resisted the urge to cry.

  When Alyssa reached out and caressed the side of Christopher’s face, and he reciprocated with his deep masculine laughter, she finally reached the breaking point.

  She stood abruptly, surprising all three of them. “E---excuse me,” she stammered, clutching the purse against her stomach. “I’m going to the powder room to freshen up.”

  “Are you alright?” Richard asked with concern. “You look rather flushed. Are you ill?”

  She forced herself to ignore Christopher’s pointed gaze. But, still, she sensed that his full attention was on her now. “No, I’m fine,” she blurted out fast, taking a calming breath, and then gave a strained smile. “It’ll only take me a moment.”

  She kept her face averted as she scurried from the table. The last thing that she needed was for them all to be aware of her strife. There was no reasonable explanation for it except the truth. It was a truth that was difficult
to face.

  When she entered the restroom, only two or three women milled about. Fortunately, all of them were washing or drying their hands at the sink, she thought with relief, hurrying to the first empty stall.

  Hanging the purse on the tiny knob, she let down the toilet seat before sinking on it.

  When she was alone, she finally embraced the wayward emotions. “Dear God, I’m trying to do the right thing,” she whispered quietly, burying her face in her hands, and sucked in a painful breath. “But, how can I keep pretending---pretending that I don’t care about Christopher. I know that I shouldn’t, but I do.” Looking upward, she blinked furiously at the stinging tears. “What am I supposed to do? Please give me an answer.”

  ***

  He listened with a half-ear as his brother droned on. Every now and then, he’d throw his two cents in. His gaze centered on the vacant seat, and he couldn’t stifle the feeling of triumphant.

  Finally, he’d put a tiny little crack in her armor and forced a real gut reaction out of her. By flirting shamelessly with Alyssa, he’d done just that. While she’d tried valiantly to ignore them, she’d failed, and with every passing moment, she’d grown upset. At some points, her hurt expression had nearly gotten to him, but he’d pressed on.

  When she’d reached the breaking point and excused herself, he realized that he’d accomplished his goal.

  Forcing her to confront her real feelings…

  But, fuck, he was a criminally shameless son-of-a-bitch, he mulled, distracted, casting a glance at Richard. Here he was, calculating and planning how to steal his fiancée.

  He swallowed the alcohol fast.

  But, fuck again…

  He’d known her first, he argued mentally, staring at no particular point across the room. He’d been the first one to touch her, make love to her, and connect with her on an intimate level…

 

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