“When your brother moved out…he asked me out.”
He didn’t have any reaction at all.
“He said you were okay with it.”
He was still unresponsive.
“Are you okay with it?”
His hand reached for his laptop, and he closed it. “I’m sure you can retain your professionalism in the situation.”
That didn’t answer my question. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable—”
“If you like him, date him. Do you like him?” His elbows rested on the table with his forearms reached out, the cords under his skin visible.
I hadn’t dated anyone since Jake. His affair broke my heart, but I refused to let it get me down. I decided to stay busy instead, keep my mind focused so I wouldn’t feel the pain. That’d been a few months ago now. I didn’t usually date much because I just didn’t have the time. Having a personal relationship with Tucker never crossed my mind, even if he was funny and sexy. He was a more approachable version of Deacon, more normal, more relatable. But for whatever reason, I still felt more comfortable with Deacon, even when he said barely a few words to me.
When I didn’t answer the question, he continued. “It’s not up to me, Cleo. Date him. Don’t date him. Makes no difference to me.” He grabbed the top of his laptop and opened it again, dismissing the conversation.
I felt like he’d slapped me.
His indifference was painful in an inexplicable way. I didn’t know what I’d expected from him. I didn’t know why I expected him to care in the first place. There were only a handful of things in life he cared about—and I didn’t make the cut.
He was just a client…why did I care?
Why did this bother me?
“Alright…then I’m going to go out with him.”
He read the words on the screen, ignoring me.
I got to my feet and held his mail to my chest. “I’ll take care of this and email you a copy of everything.”
He continued his indifference. His behavior was typical, normal. But it felt tense this time, awkward, like our usual connection had been severed with a knife.
I turned to the door. “Have a good day, Deacon.”
He didn’t say anything back.
Fourteen
Cleo
The waitress took us to a booth in the restaurant.
We both sat down, ordered some wine, and then were alone together.
Tucker wore a black shirt, his chest, arms, and shoulders all stretching the fabric in a manly way. His skin was a fairer complexion than his brother’s, which was interesting because Deacon seemed too busy to be outside often. He grabbed his glass and took a drink. “Nervous?”
I hadn’t said much since we’d met outside the restaurant. “Sorry…I just don’t do this a lot.”
“Interact with other humans?” he asked. “Because you seem to do that a lot at work.”
“No,” I said with a laugh. “Date.”
“Really?” he asked in surprise. “A beautiful woman like you?”
My clients didn’t hit on me, and neither did my colleagues. And since I didn’t have much of a social life, there was really no opportunity for anyone to ever be interested in me. “I work long hours.”
“I get it. I usually work mornings at the hotel, but afternoons quickly stretch to evenings, and when clients need something…you’ve got to be there.”
We did have a lot in common.
He clinked his glass against mine. “To work.”
I smiled and clinked my glass against his. “To work.”
He took a drink then addressed the waitress when she came to the table. “I’m going to have the tacos.” He handed the menu over.
I hadn’t had time to glance at it. “I’ll have the same.”
She took our menus and left.
“Maybe on our second date, we’ll try Taco Bell.”
“That’s more of a third or fourth date type of thing…”
He laughed at my joke. “So, what’s it like taking care of a bunch of billionaires?”
“Not much different from taking care of the people at your hotel.”
“Nah, it’s totally different.”
I would never say anything bad about a client, so I only had a diplomatic response. “It keeps me busy. I never have to worry about the job getting stale because I’m met with unexpected challenges all the time. A lot of my clients are nice, so that’s icing on the cake.”
“Is Deacon considered nice?”
I felt a tightness in my chest when I had to think about him. “Honestly, he’s probably my favorite client.”
“Really?” he asked, completely dumbfounded by the statement. “My brother? Deacon Hamilton? Super nerd?”
“He’s not a nerd…” He was nothing of the sort. Yes, he was brilliant, a genius, but he wasn’t some stereotypical nerd.
“I think anyone who graduates from medical school before they’re twenty is a nerd.”
“Well…he doesn’t act like one.”
“He’s really your favorite? You don’t have any celebrities or musicians?”
“I have a lot of them, actually.”
“Ooh, like who?”
I kept my mouth shut. “I can’t say.”
He nodded slowly. “I get it. Privacy.”
“But yes, I represent people who are household names.”
“Why is he your favorite?”
I shrugged. “He’s just…interesting.”
“Interesting?” he asked blankly.
“He’s definitely the most brilliant client I’ve ever had. When we first met, he was a bit difficult, but once I got to know him better, I started to understand him. He’s just a gifted person who doesn’t operate the same way everyone else does. But he loves his son…so deeply I could never explain it into words. And he’s passionate about his work because of his contribution to humankind, not money. That makes him drastically different from my other clients, who care about money and fame above all else. Deacon is indifferent to those sorts of things.”
He swirled his wine as he studied me.
“What was it like to grow up with someone like that?”
“Well…” He rubbed his chin as he considered the question. “When he was twelve, he built solar panels and placed them on the roof and managed to power our house completely with it.”
Both of my eyebrows shot up. “When he was twelve?”
He nodded. “My parents weren’t too happy about it, but they let him do whatever he wanted.”
“It sounds like he saved them some money.”
“Yeah, but all the parts cost a lot.”
“Ooh…that makes sense.”
“But he did raise half the funds on his own, working on cars, repairing people’s broken machinery, stuff like that.”
That didn’t surprise me at all.
“He didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. Every time he would skip a grade, he would be younger than the rest of the kids, so naturally, they bullied him. But he never responded to the taunts because he argued he would be there for such a short period of time, it wasn’t worth the effort.”
“Did he ever have any girlfriends?”
“No. Just admirers.”
“Being that smart must have made him a huge babe magnet when he became an adult.”
He shrugged. “He doesn’t really tell me stuff like that.”
I guess that didn’t surprise me.
“But enough about Deacon, the man who still casts a shadow over me everywhere I go… What about you?”
I hadn’t meant to talk about his brother so much. He was the one common person between us, and he was an easy subject to discuss. “I don’t have much of a story, honestly. I’m a workaholic who eats a lot of frozen burritos. My apartment is a pigsty right now because I haven’t cleaned it in months…literally. I have some friends I try to see when I have time, and I love everyone who works with me in the office. But other than that, I’m pretty simple.”
“So, it’s been a
long time since your last long-term relationship?”
I didn’t count Jake, because that’d been a secret since our first kiss. But the relationship before that…I remembered clearly. “A year.”
“Were you guys living together?”
“Yes.”
“When I was in LA, I saw a few women but nothing really serious, except this one woman. But just when things started to go somewhere, she got transferred for her job. We tried long-distance for a while, but that went to shit…because it always goes to shit.”
“Yeah…”
He stared at me like he expected me to elaborate further.
It was hard for me to open up to people because I was used to taking care of everyone else, not unburdening myself. “Actually, I was married…”
He stilled as if he hadn’t expected me to say that.
“We were married for a few years, but he got fed up with my long hours…met someone else…and then that was it.” I relayed the story without emotion, as if we were talking about something insignificant, but it had really hurt me at the time. It still hurt me…because I knew I would never have a real relationship as long as I continued this job.
“I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “It was my fault. I worked too much.”
He stared at his glass for a few seconds as if he didn’t know what else to say. “I’m sure it’ll work out when it’s meant to work out. And maybe that was just the wrong time.”
“Yeah…maybe.”
Fifteen
Deacon
When I got home, Natalie was still there.
Why the fuck was she still there?
I shut the door behind me and saw her on the couch, wearing one of my shirts with her feet on the couch. I stared at her blankly, unsure how to process what I was looking at. I didn’t kick a woman out the second I woke up because that felt overbearing and rude, but her lingering in my apartment was much ruder.
“Hey.” She got to her feet to greet me, her hands snaking around my waist.
I turned away from the touch, not in the mood for affection whatsoever. “I have company coming over right now.”
“Oh?” she asked. “What kind of company?”
My eyes narrowed on her face. “Please get dressed and leave.” I was more abrupt about it, giving her simple directions to follow because I didn’t know how else to get rid of her.
Her eyes leaped with a small fire. “I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome—”
“Well, you did. Please go.” I carried my satchel to the dining table and set down my bag.
She followed after me. “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you—”
“Why aren’t you getting dressed?” I didn’t want to stand here and have a conversation. I just wanted her to go. After a long day at work, the last thing I wanted to do was argue with someone who shouldn’t have been there in the first place.
“I just wanted to spend more time with you…”
That didn’t make sense to me. I’d told her exactly what I was looking for. I told her I didn’t want a relationship. I was only interested in one thing. So why was she behaving this way? “I was clear that I didn’t want a relationship. You’re acting like we have one. Stop it.” I didn’t know how else to get through to her.
She looked like she might cry, her eyes squinting just the way Valerie’s did. “Fine.” She turned down the hallway, her feet marching at a quick pace.
I sighed in relief, eager for her to get out of my fucking space.
A knock sounded on the door.
I rubbed the back of my head and sighed, not wanting my brother to enter my residence and witness this idiocy.
He knocked again when I didn’t answer.
“It’s open.”
He stepped inside. “Wow, this place looks like shit without me.” He was in jeans and a shirt, taking advantage of the nice weather that had finally struck the city. “Now it just feels like a cave.”
Natalie came down the hallway, in her spring dress and jean jacket, her heels announcing her presence long before she appeared in the room. “There you go.” She pointed at herself. “Dressed and ready to go.” She turned away and marched off, ignoring my brother and walking straight past him.
My brother shut his mouth, looking uncomfortable by what he’d just walked into.
Natalie left my apartment and slammed the door behind her.
Tucker glanced behind him then crept backward, heading back to the door so he could flip the lock into place. “She seems lovely…” He came back to me, his hands in his pockets.
I fell into the chair, relieved that was over.
“That was the woman we met a few months ago, right?” He helped himself to a beer from the kitchen.
“Yeah.”
“You’re still seeing her?” He fell into the chair, sliding a beer toward me.
“Casually.”
“Let me guess…” He took a drink. “She wants more.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what the fuck just happened. She slept over last night, and she usually leaves in the morning after I walk out. But when I walked in the door, she was sitting on my couch in my t-shirt like she fucking lives here.”
He chuckled. “Oh, that sucks.”
“Then she got mad at me for asking her to leave.”
He shook his head. “Sorry, man.”
“I just don’t understand. I told her I wasn’t looking for a relationship.”
“She wants one anyway. Women say they can do the fuck-buddy thing, but if you see them long enough, they always want more. Want my advice?”
I didn’t want to go through that bullshit again, so I nodded.
“Don’t see them for too long, even if they’re good in bed. Because that shit will happen—every time.” He pointed his forefinger into the table. “Women can’t just have long-term meaningless sex. They form an attachment. And you’re rich, hot, and super intelligent…she’s gonna picture you as the father of her kids.”
It’d been a long time since I’d been single, so I’d forgotten about all this.
“Just mix it up. Shuffle new girls into your deck.”
I understood the analogy. “Alright. You want to go out tonight?”
“I thought we could watch the game here. You’ve got this big-ass TV and a fridge full of beer.”
My brother always wanted to go out, so this was out of character for him. So, I questioned it bluntly. “What’s the real reason you don’t want to go out?”
He took another sip of his beer. “We aren’t exclusive or anything, but I’m seeing Cleo now.”
When she’d asked me about dating him, I didn’t know what to say. I’d just wanted the conversation to end.
“I like her, and I don’t want to screw it up by sleeping around, you know? Just in case…”
I turned my gaze out the window and took a drink.
“But we can go out for you, I guess.”
“I’m fine.” I could pick up women on my own. It was actually pretty easy and didn’t take very long. I was a really difficult person to talk to, so I truly didn’t understand why it was so effortless. But I was grateful.
“We went out a few nights ago, and she’s pretty cool. She doesn’t ramble on about shit that I don’t care about, she’s easy to get along with, she likes sports…”
I hadn’t asked, so I wasn’t sure why he was telling me this.
“Did you know she’s divorced?”
My eyes had been focused out the window, but I stopped seeing the image before me, stopped seeing the other skyscrapers in the distance. I turned back to him, surprised by that information. “No…I didn’t know.”
“I was surprised too.”
I’d told her about my divorce, but she never mentioned hers. When I tried to think about all the personal stuff I knew about her, I realized I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know her last name, anything about her family, had never asked her anything.
I considered her to be a friend…but I never treated h
er like one.
“She also told me—”
“I’d rather not hear about it, Tucker.” I turned back to him, my fingers wrapped around my bottle.
His fingers gripped the neck of his beer.
“She works for me. We need to have some boundaries.” Knowing him, he would tell me every little detail about their relationship, including the physical stuff…and I’d rather not know.
He released his beer and stared at me. “Deacon, are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “I just don’t want to hear about it.”
Cleo rang the doorbell when she was outside my condo.
She’d texted me from the lobby, so I knew she was coming. “It’s open.” I sat on the couch with my papers scattered around me, the game on the TV.
She opened the door and stepped inside, wearing a long-sleeved dress with a blue floral print, one side of the dress with a high slit, showing some of her thigh. She wore it with heels, her curled hair in a tight ponytail. “Cynthia just dropped these off for you.” She carried two paper bags, both of them displaying a different designer logo. “Put what you don’t want back into the bag, and I’ll make sure it gets returned.” She set the bags next to the coffee table.
I leaned forward and peeked in one bag, seeing the shirts and jeans in my size. I hated shopping, hated picking out things while a salesman pestered me to try things on and felt inclined to comment on my appearance.
“Anything else I can do while I’m here?” She always adopted the same posture, her hands together at her waist, almost like a robot.
I was in my sweatpants and a shirt, my bare feet on the rug. My arms rested on my thighs as I looked up at her, the words struggling to come to me. “I didn’t know you were divorced.”
Her expression changed, her professional smile falling instantly. Her fingers fidgeted a bit. Now she wasn’t the self-assured person she usually was.
I rose to my feet and faced her, trying to navigate the situation. I was so bad at this shit, so bad at these conversations. When my son was older and needed advice, I wasn’t sure how I would handle that stuff, not when I could barely string a few words together. “I just didn’t know…”
The Man Who Has No Soul (Soulless Book 1) Page 13