How many people out there would love to know the truth about Jack and his real business?
“How many do you see in the photographs?”
Rachel touched her finger to a framed picture and touched each face portrayed there.
“I see four here.”
“Count again.”
“Five?”
“I have six children. Two are biological, the rest my wife and I adopted over the years.”
“Why adoption?”
“My wife was a social worker. She brought them home like other people bring home stray dogs.”
“Sounds like a nice lady.”
“She was. An angel.”
“What happened to her?”
“She died five years ago. Pancreatic cancer.”
“I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “She was a good woman, lived a good life.”
“Was it a happy marriage?”
I inclined my head as I thought of Abigail. She was a good woman. Being with her made me feel capable of good things. Unfortunately, I wasn’t with her as often as I should have been.
“We were married twenty-five years. We had our ups and downs, but I think we made each other happy when it really counted.”
Rachel picked up another of the pictures. “Which two are yours?”
I walked up behind her, enjoying the scent of her jasmine perfume. At fifty, I was tired more often than I’d been before, but I wasn’t dead. I once knew a woman like this Rachel, a young, supple woman with curves that haunted my dreams. That’d been after I married Abigail, during a brief separation that I thought was going to be more permanent than it was. I walked away from the curves, but never forgot them. Still, sometimes, I thought about her. Wondered what had happened to her.
Cassidy. It’d seemed like such an exotic name at the time.
I pointed to my boys, Sean and Killian.
“They’re handsome.”
“They work here. Sean pushes paper in the legal department. Killian is head of public relations.”
“Do you suppose I could talk to them later?”
I could almost feel the excitement humming just under the surface. She was interested in my handsome boys. Pride and disappointment mingled in my chest. I was proud that my boys could attract such a beautiful woman, but disappointed she hadn’t even considered what it would be like to fuck the CEO of MCorp.
Was I really that old now?
“And the rest?”
I pointed at the picture again, moving a little closer, practically pressing my body to hers.
“Stacy moved to New York two years ago to go to college. Kevin’s in Paris studying art. Kyle and Ian both live here in the city.”
“Quite a family. Do you just have the one daughter?”
“As far as I know.”
Rachel turned and stood against me for a moment. I was hyperaware of her body, of her breath as her breasts brushed my chest. Christ! I needed to get laid!
I stepped back and gestured for her to take a seat on the couch.
“Do you enjoy working here at MCorp?”
“Of course. Jack and I started this company together nearly thirty years ago. We’ve put everything into this place. It’s our baby.”
“How did you and Jack meet?”
I always wanted to laugh when someone asked that question. I couldn’t exactly tell them that Jack was running errands for the local gang when he caught me trying to steal from one of their marks. He saved my ass, convincing his bosses to bring me into the gang rather than gun me down in the streets. If not for Jack, I wouldn’t be here. That’s why, for the last thirty years, I’ve been watching Jack’s back, making sure nothing happened to him.
But that wasn’t what she wanted to know.
“We grew up in the same neighborhood.”
“Did you go to school together?”
“When we went to school.” I laughed at the surprise in her expression. “We weren’t the best kids. We found ourselves in more trouble than we probably should have.”
“So you’ve been friends for, what, forty years?”
“At least.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Not really. People have just forgotten what loyalty means. Back in the day, loyalty kept you alive.”
“How’s that?”
I smiled. There were so many stories I could tell her, but I wasn’t going to. There was a reason why they called businesses like this a front.
“What exactly is the focus of this article?”
“You. You’ve done some impressive things in building this company. And the charities you support…didn’t your family begin the Bayside Boys’ Club?”
“We did. It was a pet project of my wife’s. Now that she’s gone, Killian runs it.”
“You’ve done amazing things for this community. That’s why we want to do a story about you.”
“I haven’t done any more for this community than other businessmen like me.”
“You have, though. Your donation to the Cancer Society—”
“How do you know about that?”
She shrugged, a flirty smile slipping over her thin lips. “I have my ways.”
“That donation was supposed to be anonymous.”
She gave me this look, her eyes wide and innocent. That look might have worked a few minutes ago, but I didn’t like the way this was going. I was a man of secrets. I didn’t like it when one of my secrets was revealed.
I moved closer to her on the couch and touched her knee. “You’re good at what you do, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“You think you can turn over all my moss-covered stones?”
“I think it’s possible.”
I ran my finger along the curve of her jaw, wondering just how far she’d be willing to go. She answered that question when she leaned into me, her thin lips slightly parted as they came dangerously close to brushing my chin.
“I think it’s time for you to go.”
I stood so abruptly that she nearly fell sideways, her cheeks burning red, as she scrambled to gather her things.
“Mr. Callahan—”
“It was a lovely conversation, Rachel. But I think we’ll leave it at that.”
“Don’t you want the publicity that my magazine can offer you?”
“We’ve done quite well before you, we’ll do well enough without you.”
I touched the small of her back to lead her to the door. She turned, forcing my hand against her lower belly.
“What are you afraid of, Mr. Callahan? Are you afraid I’ll find something out about you that you don’t want put out?”
“I think you’re highly ambitious. I think you’d write anything if you thought it would propel your career up to the heights you desire.”
“Is that so bad?” she asked, sliding her hand over my chest. “You’re one of the most elusive men in Boston. Do you know how many reporters at my magazine have attempted to find something on you and failed?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Almost all of them. Everyone wants to know what secrets you’re hiding.”
I pushed her back, trapping her against the door. “Including you?” I asked, my lips as close to hers as they could be without touching.
“Especially me. I love mysteries.”
She ran her hand slowly over my chest, a twinkle coming into her eyes.
“You’re in good shape for a man your age.”
“If you’re trying to seduce me, that’s not the way to do it.”
“You don’t like to be reminded of your age?”
“I don’t have a problem with my age. I just don’t like people assuming my age means I’m weak or frail.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Good, because I’m not.”
To prove it, I grabbed her wrists and pressed them to the door above her head. She smiled, making it pretty clear she didn’t mind having my body pressed up against hers. When she wiggled her hips against min
e, it made it pretty obvious she didn’t mind. This girl was hot and clearly in for just about anything. Unfortunately, it was also pretty obvious she was in it for the story and nothing else.
But since when have I cared what a woman’s motives were?
I brushed my nose against hers, pulling back when she moved her jaw in an attempt to catch my lips. I pressed my forehead to hers and stared into her eyes, loving the way she continued to wiggle her hips against mine. I was so fucking hard, and I was pretty sure she was aware of it. She reached up to kiss me, but I pulled away again just a second before our lips touched. She groaned, straining to follow my movement, pressing her slender, lithe body against mine.
“You’re so beautiful,” I said with a sigh.
“Do you want me?”
“I do.”
She smiled, a self-satisfied smile. “Then I’m yours.”
I moved my hands, trapping her wrists with one hand while the other tugged at her skirt. She was wearing one of those pencil skirts that followed the natural curves of her body, tight enough to show off her gorgeous legs, but loose enough that I was able to drag it up her side. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her hips brushing up against me again, but she stood still when my hand managed to slide under her skirt to cup her ass.
So firm…her ass was so firm. I tugged her closer against me, grinding my cock against her lace-covered cunt. She moaned, her lips moving close to my throat. I turned into her and thought about a kiss, but then my mouth moved down to her throat, my teeth nibbling at her neck. She smelled like lavender and tasted like vanilla. It’d been a while since I’d held an ass so tight, tasted a body so fresh. I loved Abigail. But this…I missed the heat of sex just for the sake of sex.
She was breathing hard as I made my way down between her luscious breasts, nibbling at her flesh with a need that only built and built. My fingers searched for her moist lips, a sigh slipping when I brushed her swollen little clit. My mouth was on her throat again, her hands searching for the buckle of my belt. I let her undo my pants, let her reach inside…hmm, the feel of those warm hands on my cock was the most delicious thing I’d felt in weeks, months…so good! I tugged at her panties, watched them slide away, down her slender thighs. There was nothing better than the sight of a woman’s panties sliding away…
“Tell me you want me,” I groaned against her ear.
“I want you,” she said, her voice breathless.
She guided me to her, removing any doubt that might have remained. I lifted her, just enough to set her at the perfect height, then slid inside, closing my eyes as her hot body surrounded mine. She wrapped her arms around my neck and we began to move, slowly at first, finding a rhythm that was a little on the rough side, knocking her hard against the door with every inward thrust. She moaned, her hands moving through my hair, under my jacket, eventually coming to rest on my ass, tugging me closer and closer to her with each movement.
It’d been too long…so long.
I bit my lip to hold back the groan that wanted to escape when I came. She pressed her body hard against me, grinding her hips, rubbing that beautiful little clit against me as she, too, reached her climax.
We stood there a long moment. Then she slowly pulled away, bending over to pick up her panties.
“Pick me up at eight.”
“For what?”
She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Dinner.”
I barely had time to fix my pants before she disappeared through the door. I watched her go, catching the disapproving look on the face of my assistant as I turned to go back inside.
“What?” I asked.
She glared at me, turning away when I stared back.
Chapter 2
Brian
“Your personal assistant quit because you were having sex in your office?” Jack laughed. “First-world problems!”
“Yeah, well, it leaves my office in a bit of disarray. I have human resources looking for someone new, but they haven’t come up with any suitable candidates yet.”
“You’ll find something.” Jack sat back in his office chair. “So, this shipment tomorrow night…”
“Yeah, I’ve got Killian and Kyle on it already.”
“Good. We might need a few more. This is a big shipment, the biggest we’ve had in a while. My guys are worried that the cops are getting too close. Might need Ian at the warehouse, just in case we have some unwanted company.”
“No problem.”
Jack set an envelope on the desk. “How long we been doing this, Brian?”
“Thirty years.”
“And it never seems to get old.”
I picked up the envelope and glanced at the money inside. “No. It doesn’t.”
***
I led Rachel through the restaurant, amused by the looks she was getting as we passed the other tables. I used to get looks like that when I walked through a restaurant in the old neighborhood. Still do from time to time. Things have changed over the years, though. Jack, he still gets the respect. But my boys and I were more behind the scenes these days rather than in the deep of things. I let Jack take the real risks now.
We took our seats, Rachel smiling uncomfortably when I helped her into her chair. I guess guys aren’t chivalrous anymore. The waiter came, and we ordered, then we found ourselves staring at each other with little to say.
I poured us both a glass of wine and sipped mine, savoring the almost smoky flavor. The restaurant was crowded, the noise level almost deafening. Rachel reached across the table and took my hand.
“Tell me something about you no one else knows.”
I studied her face, thinking how beautiful she was. How young.
“Tell me why you want to know.”
She tilted her head slightly. “I’m curious about you.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re Brian Callahan. You’re CEO of MCorp. You’re one of the wealthiest men in Boston. And you’re one of the most generous men I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet.”
“You sound like you’re still thinking about that article you wanted to write.”
“What if I was? Would that bother you?”
“I’m a private man, Rachel.”
“But people want to know about you.”
I doubted that, but she was nice to look at, and I kind of wanted to keep looking across the table at her. I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed her knuckles lightly.
“I was married to the same woman for twenty-five years. I raised six kids. I’m a boring, ordinary man.”
“I don’t find you boring.”
“You’re probably the only one.”
I sat back and sipped my wine again, my eyes wandering around the room. We were still getting a few looks—probably people trying to figure out if we were lovers or if she was my daughter. And then I thought I saw a familiar face, but when I looked again, it was gone.
Stupid. She was long gone.
“Were you always faithful to Abigail?”
I focused on Rachel again. “Why?”
She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Curiosity. Self-preservation.”
“Are you wondering if I’d be capable of two-timing a girl like you?” I chuckled. “I don’t have that kind of energy anymore, Rachel.”
“But did you? When you were more energetic?”
I touched the ring that still rested on my finger, a simple silver band that was cheaper than I was willing to admit. I’d wanted to replace our wedding bands a dozen times over, but Abigail always insisted we hold on to the originals. She said they were more than the cheap, silver-plated pieces of junk that I’d bought with what little savings I’d had at the time. This was before MCorp was out of its infancy, before money was plentiful. Abigail said the rings were a symbol of what we were and what we would always be as long as we were together.
She was a romantic, my Abigail.
“There were several times when Abigail and I went through difficult times. And I, unfortunately, w
as not a good man during those times.”
“If you were separated, it doesn’t mean you were weak.”
“I was still married.”
“But you were separated.”
I shook my head. “Abigail believed in our vows. I knew she would never do to me what I’d done to her. Even now…I feel like an asshole just looking at you.”
Rachel’s expression softened. “That’s sweet.”
“You think so?” I drank from my glass again. “I don’t.”
“She was lucky.”
“No. I was the lucky one.”
“My parents got divorced when I was five. My dad’s been married three times since then, my mom twice. So I think you were both lucky.”
I picked up my glass again. “Is that what you’re looking for, Rachel? A long-term commitment?”
“Oh, don’t get that look,” she said, that soft, flirty smile back. “I know you don’t want that. Guys like you…this is all just fun and games.”
“Yeah?”
“I like you, Brian. But I don’t have any expectations beyond this.”
“And what is this?”
She tilted her head slightly, that smile widening. “A good dinner. Some good sex. Maybe a repeat in a few days, maybe not. Whatever feels right.”
That made me smile. A casual fling. That was about all I could handle right now.
I was married twenty-five years. Until yesterday, I hadn’t been with anyone but my wife in fifteen years. I wasn’t ready for a commitment, not like the one I shared with Abigail. I wasn’t sure I’d be ready for that kind of commitment ever again. So casual was fine with me.
I thought I saw a familiar face in the crowd again when the waiter brought our food, but I convinced myself it couldn’t be. I was seeing things because my head had been in the past for the last few days. Rachel reminded me of her. That’s all.
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