She was the only person who seemed in tune with my thoughts, like she understood what I was trying to accomplish even though everyone else didn’t get me at all. “Yes, we have that in common.”
My hands moved into my pockets. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “It’s been a while now, so I’m fine with it.”
I didn’t know the details because I hadn’t wanted to listen to my brother describe his experience with her out loud. I didn’t want his perceptions. Because if I heard that, I’d have to listen to all the other details I didn’t want to picture.
“It made me realize I don’t know anything about you.” She had access to my home, knew exactly what I liked to eat, knew what size clothing I wore, knew what colors I preferred, knew about my divorce, my kid…and I’d never even cared to learn anything about her. “You know everything about me.”
She gave me a slight smile, her discomfort gone. “It’s my job to know everything about you. That’s how I take care of you.”
“Well, I’d like to know more about you.” Knowing the details of other women’s lives wasn’t important, and I considered those conversations wasted time because they didn’t benefit any situation at all. It was time-consuming, wasted energy, pointless. But I wanted to take the time to know her…because I cared about her. She’d watched me break down more than once, watched tears spill from my eyes, and maybe she was paid to care, but I believed she would care even if she didn’t make a dollar from me.
Her eyes softened as she looked at me, giving me a look I’d never received from anyone else except my mother, like she valued my gesture and didn’t care about the error I’d made in the first place. She accepted me for me, looked past my shortcomings, and interpreted my flaws as quirks instead of failings. “I know it’s late. We can talk some other time.”
“I don’t mind…unless you have somewhere to be.”
Her smile widened, the softness in her gaze increasing.
I moved back to the couch and transferred my papers to the coffee table to give her room beside me.
She sat down, keeping a few feet between us. She crossed her legs, revealing her toned thigh through the slit of her dress. It was a long-sleeved dress that rose all the way to her neckline, covering most of her skin, giving her a classy spring look. The color was nice on her, the perfect complement to her bright eyes. “Well, I got divorced about a year ago. His name is David. We were married for three years before it ended.”
I didn’t ask any questions because I didn’t want to pry. I decided to let her tell me what she wanted me to know. That was why I’d opened up to her in the first place, because she didn’t ask me a million questions like other people did. She really listened, had a conversation with me, didn’t interrogate me.
Her eyes were downcast for a while, like she was reliving it. “With this job, I work long hours, I’m hardly at my apartment, and even when I am, I’m eating dinner and getting ready for the next day. It was always a problem in our relationship, and toward the end…he met someone else.”
I didn’t react to her words, but I pitied her, felt a little angry that her husband would give up so easily when he understood the nature of her work when they got married. He didn’t even have the integrity to leave the relationship first before he moved on. He waited until he slept with someone else and then took off.
“It was my fault. I worked too much. He told me he didn’t like it several times, and I never changed.”
“There’s no excuse to cheat on your wife.”
Her eyes lifted to mine.
“He knew what he signed up for when he married you. He understood you were busy with this job. If he couldn’t handle it, he shouldn’t have asked to spend his life with you. He shouldn’t have promised commitment through thick and thin if he couldn’t deliver.” I had been married to a woman I didn’t love, and while offers came across my desk, I always remained faithful to her, even when she wasn’t faithful to me. I understood the parameters of marriage like everyone else, and cheating was unacceptable. I wasn’t a romantic guy. I just believed in honoring my word. “Don’t take the blame on to yourself. There were two people in that relationship—not one.”
She stared at me for a long time, her eyes not blinking, just the way mine weren’t. She held herself unsupported, her back straight and strong, her posture elegant like a queen at tea. “He married her six months after our divorce. So, I think they were seeing each other a lot sooner than what he told me. Every time I asked, he denied it, but I don’t believe him.”
I wasn’t a fan of this guy, and his lack of integrity made me wonder why she’d married him in the first place. She was professional, smart, kind… What did she see in someone like that? “He’ll do the same thing to her…give it time.” Disloyal people were always disloyal. The second a better opportunity opened up, they abandoned their ship and jumped onto the next one.
“I understood why he didn’t want to be with me anymore. I was never around, and we just grew apart. But the secrecy…the lying…that’s what bothers me. Because I’m an honest person, and to be married to someone who lies to you every day…” She shook her head. “That’s what hurts.”
“You have every right to feel that way.” When it was just the two of us alone together, it was easy for me to talk. It was like a train leaving a station, a really slow start, but I picked up speed the longer we went on, when I focused on our conversation with the same intensity that I focused on my work. “In time, you’ll meet someone better…and it’ll feel right.”
She watched me, her eyes trained on my face with the same intensity that I stared at her. “I don’t know. My job is so time-consuming. I can’t see that ever changing…because I love my job.”
“Then be with a man who accepts that.”
Her hands came together on her thigh, her fingers interlocked. “You think you’ll ever get remarried?”
I shook my head instantly. “No.”
“Your first experience with it was pretty bad… It’d be a lot better next time around.”
“Maybe.” I just wasn’t interested in having such an intense relationship like that ever again. Even at our best time, we were never happy. The sex was good. That was the only reason I stayed as long as I did. “What’s your last name?”
“Aldridge,” she said with a smile.
“Do you have family in the city?”
Her smile disappeared quickly. “No.”
“Where are you originally from?”
“Seattle. But my parents passed away a long time ago.”
I’d lost one parent, and it was terrible. I couldn’t imagine losing both.
“On my eighteenth birthday, they went out to pick up my birthday present…and got hit by a semi that wasn’t paying attention. Their car flew off the bridge, fell a hundred feet into the river…and that was it.”
“Jesus…” I whispered, shocked by that terrible story.
“I took the settlement money and moved out here. Just wanted to start over.”
My chest tightened the same way it did when I thought about Derek, like I was experiencing the same pain as if it happened to me.
“I have some friends here, so that’s nice. My job is pretty much my life. That’s why I care about my clients so much. I’m really invested.”
And she had no one as invested in her.
Well…I could be invested in her. “I’m sorry about your parents.” I hated it when people said that to me when I talked about my father. They were meaningless words. I really didn’t understand the phrase at all. But that was the sentence that left my lips…because I was sorry. I was sorry that this woman was all alone in the world. At least I had my mother, my brother, and my son.
She had no one.
“Italian food is my favorite, I’m a fan of the Yankees, and I like to do yoga…when I have time. That’s my life…in a nutshell.”
I felt differently about her now, felt a stronger connection to her than I did with anyone else…other than fa
mily. I didn’t have any friends. I had some colleagues I kept in touch with, but once their research took them elsewhere, we rarely spoke. She was the only friend I had. “I feel like I know you better now.”
She smiled. “You know me better than most.”
“Do your other clients know these things?”
She shook her head. “No…you’re the first person to ask.”
I continued to stare at her, noticing the subtle pink lipstick on her lips, the light color that highlighted the curves of her mouth, the bow shape of her bottom lip. I noticed her fair skin, the slight rosiness to her cheeks, the crystal-blue waters of her eyes…the way she had no problem meeting my look without being uncomfortable with the stare. “I don’t have any friends…except you.” I’d never cared about spending my birthday alone, never cared about eating dinner by myself at the dining table, never cared about the silence that followed me everywhere I went.
She smiled. “I don’t have a lot of friends either. And now I have one more.”
Sixteen
Cleo
I sat across from Tucker in the booth, both of us digging into our ice cream cones. “How was work?”
He shrugged. “Still learning the ropes, but it’s going well.”
“Do you like the people you work with?”
“They’re alright. New Yorkers are different, though.”
“Don’t take it personally.”
“It’s gonna be hard to make friends in this town.”
“I would join a basketball league or something. A lot of young guys do that.”
He turned his cone and licked the ice cream. “Good tip.” He took a bite of his cone and examined mine. “So, what you got there?”
“Chocolate chip cookie dough and double fudge.”
“Excellent choice.”
“I never eat ice cream, so this is a nice change.”
“Yeah, I can tell you don’t eat shit often.”
I flinched at his comment about my figure before I continued to eat. “So…what’s Valerie like?”
“Valerie who?” he asked.
“Deacon’s ex.”
“Oh…” He took another bite then wiped his lips with a napkin. “I mean, I’ve never really liked her. When Deacon told me he was going to marry her, I tried to talk him out of it, but he’s stubborn as a mule.”
“Why was he so adamant to marry her?”
“You know, keep the family together. Our dad was the best…” He shook his head as he thought of a memory. “He was able to raise us both separately and together, one gifted child with one average one. He took Deacon to all the science lectures and planetariums, but he took me to football practice and swim parties. I know Deacon has always looked up to him, so when he became a father, that was what he wanted to be…a family to his son.”
He’d made a huge sacrifice…and it was really sweet.
“I don’t know why Valerie let him go through with it, though. I’ve seen Deacon tell her to her face that he doesn’t love her and never will, but she didn’t care. Maybe she thought she could change his mind.”
I hated that bitch.
“She’s a good mom to Derek, so I guess I’ve let everything go because of that. But I agree with Deacon that she got pregnant on purpose, poked a hole in the condom or something.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Deacon was furious at the time, but when Derek was born, it was like it never happened. He fell in love with his son and married Valerie without thinking twice about it. I never imagined Deacon as a father because of the way he is, but he’s the best father I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah…” I’d never seen them together, but I could picture it.
“Valerie is a really attractive woman,” he said. “You know, Miss California, size double zero with big tits, trophy-wife type. She wanted the best husband, and she set her eyes on Deacon…and didn’t let go.”
Ugh, I really hated her.
He bit into the last piece of his cone then wiped his mouth with a napkin. “So, you want to go see a movie or something?”
“Yeah, sure. It’s just going to be a while…” I pretty much had my entire cone left to eat.
He grinned. “Take your time.”
I used my key to let myself inside the residence, bringing a new bag of coffee beans since Deacon was out. I also had his mail, and since I’d been on the way up here, I brought his dry cleaning.
I kicked the door shut behind me then stilled when I saw the woman sitting at the dining table.
It seemed to be a different girl every time, like Deacon was going out at night and picking up women wherever he went. It wasn’t my place to judge or even think twice about it, but it always left a bad taste in my mouth whenever I saw them.
I needed to stop coming in the mornings entirely.
I cleared my throat and set his clothes over the back of the couch. “Good morning.”
She looked up from her phone and, just like the other girl, ignored me.
I carried the coffee beans into the kitchen, ground them up, and started the coffee machine.
“Can you make me some eggs too?”
That bitch better not be talking to me.
I grabbed two mugs of coffee and set them on the dining table.
She looked up at me, like I was gum on the bottom of her shoe. “The eggs?”
Who the hell did this bitch think I was? “I’m Deacon’s assistant. He doesn’t have a chef.”
“But you’re his assistant, right?” she asked. “You do what he tells you. So, you do what I tell you.” She pointed at her chest. “So, I’m telling you to—”
“Get the fuck out.” Deacon emerged from the hallway and threw her heels on the table.
I was so distracted by my boiling blood that I hadn’t even noticed him step into the room, looking like a titan in that black suit.
She turned to him, immediately timid like she hadn’t expected him to hear all that.
He stared her down, not with his usual look of intensity, but with undeniable rage instead. “Take your shit and get the fuck out of here.” He didn’t raise his voice by much, but the steel in his tone was a little scary.
She shrank down in size. “I’m sorry. I thought she—”
“She is a fucking human being. You are trash. Leave.” He grabbed her chair and yanked it back, pulling it across the hardwood even with her weight still inside it.
“Stop yelling at me—”
“You don’t want me to yell, then get your ass out of my chair and walk out those damn doors right now. Show your face here again, and I’ll call the police. Say another word to Cleo, even look at her, and I’ll make your life a living hell.” He grabbed her heels and threw them across the room where they banged against the front door. He took a step back so she could pass. “Go.”
Mortified and on the verge of tears, she quickly walked to the front door, gathered her heels, and then left the penthouse.
When she was gone, he released a breath, his nostrils flaring. “I’m sorry about that.”
I had been about to knock that bitch out myself, but I didn’t need to because Deacon did it for me—using his words.
He grabbed the mug and took a drink of his coffee.
I was motionless because I still couldn’t believe what had happened. “It’s okay…”
He took another drink before he left the mug on the table. It was the first time he’d looked at me, as if he’d been too embarrassed up until that point. “If I’d known she was a bitch, I wouldn’t have brought her here.” He grabbed his satchel and hooked it over his shoulder.
It was obvious these were one-night stands—for one purpose. He was newly single, so I didn’t judge him for it. Just wished he had better taste. All the women were gorgeous, but their personalities and manners could use a tune-up. “People don’t show their true colors up front.” I was touched by the way he’d defended me so ruthlessly, but the whole situation was still awkward, so I wanted to move on. “Do you have some
availability this evening? There’s something I wanted to show you.”
He faced me, looking like a billion dollars in that gorgeous suit. It wasn’t the fabric or the designer that made it stand out, but the rock-hard man underneath, the man with cut arms, broad shoulders, and facial features that were just as chiseled as the rest of him. “Yes.”
“Let me know whatever time is good for you.”
“I’ll be home by seven.”
“Alright. I’ll come by at seven thirty.” I headed to the front door, eager to get out of his hair and move on to the next project so I could forget that whole thing. While I was a servant to all the clients in the building, most of them didn’t treat me that way. When we first met, they were a bit skeptical, but after a while, they viewed me as a colleague, someone who could get things done.
Deacon followed me out the door and joined me in the elevator.
When I stood beside him, I could smell his cologne, smell the subtle scent as it recycled in the elevator. His hands were in his pockets, and he stared straight ahead, relaxed but also poised at the same time.
We reached the bottom and the doors opened.
I waited for him to go first.
He pressed his arms over the doors so they wouldn’t slide closed then nodded to the lobby, wanting to hold the doors so I could go first.
It was so different from how it used to be that I stared at him for a few seconds, seeing the way he respected me, the way he cared about me, and then my heart started to swell, so I stepped into the lobby.
He glanced at his car waiting at the curb then faced me.
“Have a good day, Deacon. I’ll see you later—”
“I really am sorry about before.” He looked me in the eye as he apologized, like he was still embarrassed he’d allowed such a terrible person into his residence, allowed her into his bed, allowed her to be anywhere near me.
“You don’t need to apologize, Deacon. You did nothing wrong.”
He remained in front of me, as if he might say something else, but then he turned away and headed out the lobby doors.
The Man Who Has No Soul (Soulless Book 1) Page 14