He lifted his gaze, and the lack of any emotion in his eyes chilled her to the bone.
“Maybe that’s for the best,” he said in a carefully neutral tone.
She blinked in surprise, her brain spinning trying to catch up. “Are you nuts? After all the background work I’ve done this week about Mr. Lim? We’ve barely prepped you for some of the cultural intricacies.”
“It’s a business meeting.” He slid his glasses on and then straightened his cuffs, all but dismissing her. “Mr. Lim and I have had plenty of those without you and the world hasn’t blown up.”
What. The. Fuck.
Heat swept up from her toes, and she let herself be carried away by it. “And you haven’t closed the deal, either.”
His fingers stilled on his cufflink as he slowly lifted his head, an answering frustration blazing from his eyes. Clover planted her hands on her hips and steeled herself for the onslaught. It never came. Instead, the intercom buzzed—blasting through the tense silence of the foyer.
“Mr. Carlyle,” Irving the doorman said. “Your car is here.”
Sawyer crossed to the elevator and pressed the talk button. “Thank you. Please let Linus know I’ll be down in a minute.”
He’ll be down. He’ll be down. She fought the urge to peel off one of her shoes and fling it at him. “So what’s it gonna be, Sawyer? Do I stay or shall I go?”
Shoulders stiff, he jabbed his thumb into the elevator call button, not even bothering to look at her. “Why do you even want to go?”
“Nǐ ge gǒu pì,” she snarled in Chinese because what he said was bullshit. “Because I’ve worked for this. I know you may not think much of me after you mocked my resume, but whether it’s milking snakes, tasting dog food, teaching English, or working to save endangered animals, I always see things through.”
“But only for the short term,” he flung the truth at her like a grenade.
She took an involuntary step back before stopping herself from going any farther. Gathering her pride around her, she raised her chin and faced him head on. “Then it’s a good thing we only have a few weeks to go.”
The elevator doors whooshed open and he walked inside, each step stiff, and then turned around, his face an impassive mask. “So are you coming?”
She should tell him to fuck straight off. She should tell him that fifteen grand wasn’t worth putting up with this kind of bullshit. But she didn’t because she’d been telling the truth. She always saw things through to the end. Whatever the hell had happened to change him from the man she’d woken up with this morning she had no idea—anyway it didn’t matter. She was here to do a job. Nothing more. Nothing less. So she was going to do it.
“How could I turn down such a gracious invitation?” Letting the angry click of her heels on the tile do any other talking for her, she marched into the elevator, making sure to keep to the opposite side of the carriage from him.
They made it down five floors in total silence before Sawyer lost whatever inner battle he’d been waging. “I’m sorry if I was rude.”
Oh that was rich. “If?”
“It’s just that I think we’ve lost sight of the big picture here,” he said, his gaze on her reflection in the elevator mirror and not actually her. “And we need to take a few steps back from what we’ve been doing.”
God save her from rich assholes who couldn’t just say what they meant. “Is that your roundabout way of saying no more fucking?”
“Or flea markets or movie nights or Vito’s.”
So a total rejection then—of her, of their friendship. Biting down on her bottom lip she fought back the sudden wetness threatening her mascara. “So you’re breaking the contract?”
“Renegotiating,” he said without heat. After all, for him it was just business. “In a few days, I’m leaving for a short trip to Singapore for a final push with Mr. Lim anyway, so it really won’t matter. By the time I get back, we’ll only have a little time left in our agreement.”
“And then I’ll leave for Australia.” And for once the idea of getting on that airplane and flying far, far away from anything that even remotely reminded her of how she’d grown up in Sparksville lost its appeal. When had that changed? Fuck if she knew. But it had. “After all, who wants to get stuck in one place?”
“Not you,” he said.
Her gaze caught his in the mirrored doors and for a second she thought she saw something there, but then it faded back into nothing. The elevator doors opened and he offered her his arm. She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and they crossed the lobby to the car waiting outside. The zing from Sawyer’s touch was still there, but it was tempered by something bittersweet that she couldn’t identify, not that it would do her any good anyway. He was right. She was a short-term commitment girl who didn’t believe in being tied down to any place or anything or anyone—and that’s exactly how she liked it.
…
Just when Sawyer thought his night couldn’t get any shittier, he and Clover arrived at their table at the restaurant to find Mr. Lim deep in conversation with Tyler Jacobson. Following the maître d through the hushed chatter of The Passport Club, Harbor City’s latest “it” restaurant, his mind spun wondering what play Tyler was making. The man was as smart as he was vindictive. A shitty combination when you were on his bad side, and Sawyer very much had been for the past two years.
Clover let out a little gasp, and he knew she’d spotted the man determined to make his life as difficult as possible sitting with the one person who had the power to approve one of the biggest deals ever for Carlyle Enterprises.
“An zua. What’s he doing here?” Clover asked.
“Fucking with my life in some new and clever way.”
It wasn’t the first time since the wedding fiasco that Tyler had acted like a grudge-holding ass. Up until now it had been stupid things, stealing his restaurant reservations, poaching a date, letting slip an embarrassing story. He hadn’t messed with Sawyer’s business. Until now. The maître d stopped in front of the table, and Mr. Lim stood up to greet them. Tyler stayed in his seat, as arrogant as ever.
“Mr. Carlyle, it is so good to see you again,” Mr. Lim said as he shook Sawyer’s hand.
“Always a pleasure,” Sawyer said, still trying to work out the best way to handle Tyler. “May I introduce my fiancée, Miss Clover Lee.”
“Miss Lee.” Mr. Lim offered her his hand to shake.
“Selamat Petang,” Clover said, shaking Mr. Lim’s hand as she bowed slightly. “Apa kabar?”
“Baik,” Mr. Lim said, his smile genuine. “You’ve been to Singapore, Miss Lee?”
“Yes, I was lucky enough to spend six months there recently.”
“You will have to visit us again soon. Perhaps when Mr. Carlyle comes in a few days?”
“I would love that but, unfortunately, my schedule won’t permit it,” she said, her body language stiffening just the slightest bit.
Of course, Tyler picked that moment to slide out from the semi-circle booth and kiss Clover’s cheek as if they were old friends. “Wedding planning keeping you busy?”
“Exactly,” she said, giving Tyler a curious look. “It’s good to see you again, Tyler.”
“Forgive me for not informing you earlier that Mr. Jacobson will be joining us,” Mr. Lim said. “He’s recently become a strategic advisor for my company’s dealings in America.”
Fuck. That explained why this deal hadn’t been signed yet. All this time Sawyer had been looking at the big picture for what it was missing and hadn’t noticed that something rotten had been added.
“Not to worry, Sawyer and I go way back. Don’t we?” Tyler said, holding out his hand with a smile that was as genuine as the Rolexes being sold on the corner of Eighty-Sixth Street to the tourists.
“Jacobson.” He shook his former best friend’s hand, squeezing it hard enough that the other man’s knuckles rubbed together in a silent warning to watch his step.
“Wonderful,” Mr. Lim said and g
estured toward the table. “Shall we sit?”
All of the tables at The Passport Club were semi-circular booths looking out onto a small stage. Tonight, the red velvet stage curtain was closed. He ended up on the end across from Mr. Lim with Tyler sitting between Sawyer and Clover. It hadn’t been an accident. Tyler had excelled at chess and had learned to use those skills in the real world. Most of the time it went to building the client base for his multimillion dollar consulting business. Tonight, the bastard was obviously using it to fuck with Sawyer.
For their part, Clover and Mr. Lim seemed oblivious as they looked over the menu, talked in Malay, and picked out the dishes for the table.
“She’s quite beautiful.” Tyler took a sip of his scotch.
Fury, hot and sudden, swept up his body and his hands were fisted before he knew it. If Tyler even looked at Clover funny, he’d— He took a deep breath, forcing his mind to still and relaxed his hands. “Stay away from her.”
The other man’s mouth curled into a wicked grin, the first genuine emotion he’d shown that night. “What kind of man would I be if I poached another man’s fiancée?”
“You know that was all Irena and not me,” Sawyer said, keeping his voice low and his tone pleasant so neither Clover nor Mr. Lim would realize what was happening.
“Of course.” Tyler raised his glass in a toast and then downed it in one large gulp. Then he held up his glass and two fingers, catching the eye of a nearby waiter who nodded and hustled toward the bar. “Someone of your stature would never do something so crass as break up a man’s marriage before it even started. Even a dumb scholarship kid like me realizes that.”
Tyler may have been a scholarship kid to Atlantic Prep, but he’d never been dumb—except when it came to Irena. Even Sawyer had seen that she was nothing more than a gold digger looking for a big enough pot. Tyler hadn’t realized until it was too late and that painful failure was obviously all he could see now.
“I won’t apologize for something I didn’t do.” Again. And again. And again. He’d been down that road too many times with shit results. He’d moved on. It was beyond time that the other man should, too.
Tyler chuckled and patted him on the shoulder, making it look to the rest of the world as if they were still friends. “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to.”
No. He’d just hold a grudge for the rest of his life.
“So how did you manage this?” Sawyer asked.
“Advising Mr. Lim? We happened to run into each other a few months ago, and I’ve been offering my insight.”
No doubt about all the ways in which Carlyle Enterprise was a bad choice to build the trio of high-rises on Pulau Ujong.
Before he could press him, though, the waiter arrived with two scotches, one of which he placed in front of Tyler and the other in front of Sawyer, and then he took their order from Clover and Mr. Lim. After that, it was the kind of surface, getting-to-know-you chitchat he fucking hated but was the way of business dinners in Singapore. It took years to develop relationships in Singapore, and Sawyer had been nurturing this one for three. Carlyle Enterprises couldn’t allow Tyler to sink it, they had too much time and planning invested already.
By the time the food arrived in large family-style dishes that everyone shared, Sawyer was on edge. The warning siren that had whistled when he’d spotted Tyler at the table was blaring in his ear now. So he did what he almost never did, he turned on the charm, asking Mr. Lim about his family and life in Singapore, his abysmal golf game, and his killer tennis game. Of course, that meant that Tyler had all of Clover’s attention and that burned a hole right through Sawyer’s stomach lining. It shouldn’t. What did he care? She had a part to play, that was all. But just like it had been since Clover had come into his life, he couldn’t help but turn his attention to her with every soft giggle and smile.
Tyler, for his part, was really playing it up. He didn’t cross any lines, but he walked right up on them—tucking a stray hair behind her ear, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially, making her laugh when all Sawyer had done tonight was piss her off. By the time Mr. Lim had begun another story about a golf ball sailing into a sand trap, Sawyer was only half listening because the sound of blood rushing through his ears was too damn loud to catch more than every third word.
“It is good to see a man who is so taken with his bride,” Mr. Lim said, the change in subject jerking Sawyer’s full attention back to him.
This is exactly why he shouldn’t have brought Clover tonight. Hudson was right. She was a distraction he didn’t need right now. “I’m sorry.”
“Do not apologize.” Mr. Lim offered an indulgent smile. “I am the same way when I am around my own wife. Perhaps you can come over for dinner when you are in Singapore? I’m sure she would love to meet you.”
“I would be honored.”
“Then it is a deal.”
“Hopefully not the only one.” He’d have to take advantage of having Mr. Lim separated from Tyler to seal the deal. This trip just might be his final shot.
“We shall see after your final site visit.” Mr. Lim nodded. “I’m anxious to see your proposal after that.”
“You’re going to love his proposal,” Clover said, her smile open and engaging as she looked away from Tyler. “I took a sneak peek and it is really going to fit in with the eclectic nature of Singapore’s skyline.”
“What was your favorite building in Singapore?” Mr. Lim asked.
“Honestly, I couldn’t say, I was enjoying the people,” she looked down at the plate in front of her “and the food too much.”
Mr. Lim chuckled and nodded. “We have that much in common.”
And there, just like that Clover had intrigued the other man and set him at ease. Sawyer couldn’t get over it. The woman was a whirlwind.
The rest of dinner was more stories about golf and family from Mr. Lim while Sawyer fought not to drag Tyler out of the booth so he could smack the flirting asshole around. Not that Clover was helping. She laughed at all of the other man’s jokes and ignored Sawyer completely. The first time she even looked at him since they’d sat down was when he slid in next to her in the Town Car’s backseat. She looked over at him, her posture ramrod straight, that luscious mouth that had smiled at every stupid joke from Tyler was a flat line and the friendliness in her eyes she’d shown to Mr. Lim had grown cold.
He waited for her to say something, anything, but she didn’t. Instead she fastened her seatbelt, clasped her hands in her lap, and looked out the window as they drove through the busy streets of Harbor City. By the time they were back in the elevator on their way up to his penthouse, frustration and anger—at himself? her? who knew—was a ball of fire eating him up inside, and it needed to go somewhere or he’d go up in flames.
“What in the hell was that?” he asked, his voice as cold as he was hot.
“It would have been a wonderful dinner if you hadn’t been giving me the evil eye the whole time.” Clover narrowed her eyes at him as a pink flush of anger rushed into her cheeks. “I know details aren’t your thing, but if you want the world to believe we’re getting married, then acting like an asshole to me isn’t the way to get it done.”
“I shouldn’t have brought you. It was a distraction.”
She let out a frustrated growl. “Blur like sotong.”
That was weird enough to cool his temper a few degrees while his brain tried—and failed—to decode it. “What does that even mean?”
“That you’re clueless like a cuttlefish, a little something I picked up teaching English in Singapore,” she said, turning her attention back to the buttons next to the doors lighting up with each floor they passed. “The point being that you shouldn’t blame your lack of focus on me.”
“Oh really, so that little show with Tyler wasn’t your way of getting back at me for earlier?” The memory had his temper roaring back to lava levels.
“Believe it or not, the world does not revolve around you.”
“So you were flirting
with him for fun?” The question exploded in the elevator carriage. “Were you just keeping your options open for your next adventure after you come back from Australia?”
He saw with exacting, slow motion detail the moment the barb burrowed underneath her skin. Her brown eyes, dark with a furious passion, went wide with shock. Her red lips parted with a gasp. Her chin trembled…once…twice before going hard when she clenched her jaw.
“You prick,” she said. The faintest hint of wetness in her eyes disappeared with a blink, but it was still there in her voice.
This is when he should apologize, take back what he’d said only because he’d known it would hurt her. But any good sense he had was burning in the flames of his frustrated anger. He didn’t understand what had happened, but something had. Clover had begun to crowd into the corners of his big vision, changing it in subtle ways that threw the rest of it off. He found himself thinking about her at strange times in the day, counting down the hours until they were alone again, becoming desperate to touch her soft skin. Even now, when he was so mad he could barely think, he wanted her like he’d never wanted anyone else. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—have that. His life was orderly. Pre-determined. His. No one, not even the woman who could manage not only to drag him to a flea market but make it fun, was going to change that—no matter how much he needed to feel her under him and hear her soft moans of satisfaction as she came.
So instead of saying sorry, he doubled down on his attack. “My prick has been your favorite part about me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I like it when you use it, not when you act like it. There’s a difference—one you obviously can’t grasp.”
The elevator doors opened and she strode out, her heels clicking angrily on the tile floor of his foyer as she marched toward the hallway leading to her bedroom—a room she hadn’t slept in since that first night. Even the idea of not sleeping with her hit him like a sucker punch to the kidney.
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