Even though she had no doubt his influential friends allowed him access to their portfolios, the service he offered was unique. He spent his days talking to people, flying around the world, connecting investors with opportunities, some which were incredibly risky but carried great potential.
Unable to stop herself, she’d also looked into the Zeta Society. There was precious little on the internet about the society except for a couple of articles, including one from the 1930s. An enterprising reporter had seen several high-profile men in New Orleans for some sort of gathering, and he’d called them Titans. According to more recent reports, the nickname had stuck. Members were from all over the world, and they evidently had some sort of meeting every year, with a bonfire as one of the highlights. Though it was rumored that some of the world’s most elite leaders and entrepreneurs belonged to the organization, there was no confirmation.
“I’m running out of things here.”
Crystal’s voice broke into Lizzie thoughts, and she shook her head.
“Help me out. The guy is handsome, good in bed, and he’s loaded.” Crystal scowled. “So why are you avoiding him? Was he mean to you? Is that it? He better not have been, ’cause I’ll deck him.”
The image of five-foot-nothing Crystal taking on the tall, fit Braden was comical.
“Talk to me, Lizzie.”
“I don’t want to be girlfriend number six thousand.”
“Oh.” Crystal stabbed her straw in her diet soda. “Well, fuckydoodle.”
“Girlfriend is a loose term. It’s more like he has a series of affairs.”
“And you’re only about forever, right? Happily ever after, babies and all that. You were right to dump him.”
Was that what she had done? It didn’t feel like that to her. “Well, anyway, I told Rafe that I’m up for a transfer once my assignment at the Sterling Uptown is over.” It might be another two or three months, which definitely seemed a lifetime away.
“Where are you considering?”
When she traveled for extensive periods, Crystal often joined Lizzie. She arranged comped rooms, and as a result, they’d spent time in a number of different cities, including a couple abroad. “Not sure yet.”
“Ask for Singapore.”
An overseas appointment intrigued her. Right now, she’d like to put as much distance between her and Houston as possible.
“Make sure it’s exotic.” Crystal stabbed her drink again. “White sandy beaches, frozen cocktails.”
They chatted for a few minutes before Lizzie announced she needed to leave so she’d be on time for dinner at her aunt’s house.
Once she was inside, noise and mayhem surrounded her. Someone was yelling, “Shots, shots, shots!” in the dining room. The tweens and teenagers were blasting a video game in the living room, and somewhere in the distance, Sandra’s baby wailed. Sunday evening at Aunt Virginia’s. Lizzie grinned.
She greeted friends and family members as she headed for one of those jiggers of tequila. Being here was exactly what she needed to throw off the shroud of melancholy that had dropped on her shoulders while she was talking to Crystal.
With the alcohol warming her insides, Lizzie headed to the kitchen, looking for her mother. Might as well get the unwanted conversation over with before the tequila buzz faded and she had to drive home.
Lizzie picked up a towel and began drying the dishes her mom had just rinsed.
“Something’s bothering you. Work issues? I met your boss that day, you know. At the Gallaghers’ party. He said very nice things about you. So it can’t be that.”
“It’s not.”
“Man problems?” Eileen guessed.
Lizzie wasn’t squeamish about discussing relationship troubles with her mother, but the fact that she was employed by Braden made it more delicate.
When Lizzie didn’t respond right away, Eileen grinned. “I knew it.”
“What?” So she didn’t drop the glass she was holding, Lizzie set it in the dish drainer.
“He’s a good man.”
“Who?” She turned her back to the counter so she could look at her mom better.
“Oh, honey. It’s clear to everyone. Braden.”
Lizzie had never been able to hide anything from her mother. She wasn’t sure why she even tried.
“He needs a good woman.”
“I don’t know about that. He’s got a million or so hanging around.”
“Are you certain?”
Her mother would know. “But… I found his tie in the living room. Underneath the couch.”
“Did you ask him about it?”
“Are you telling me there’s a simple explanation and that the woman might not be one of his…” She struggled for the right word. “Conquests?”
“I think it’s easy to make judgements. How well do you really know him?”
She didn’t. Not really. “He did tell me he’s a member of the Zeta Society.”
“Oh? Hmm.”
“Hmm, what?”
“To my knowledge, he’s never shared that with anyone else. As for conquests, why don’t you talk to Braden? If he’s told you that much, he’s not keeping secrets.
“What do you know?” Lizzie dropped the dish towel she’d been holding.
Eileen pressed her lips together. That she’d said that much was surprising and made Lizzie’s mind spin a hundred different directions.
“I know it was difficult for you not having a father, and I’m sorry about that. But don’t let my mistakes poison your future.” Eileen touched Lizzie’s wrist. “Look around here. There are plenty of honorable men. You deserve happiness.”
Just then, Sandra entered the kitchen, carrying her beautiful baby. And Lizzie extended her arms to accept the sleeping child.
Throughout the rest of the evening, her mother’s words flitted through Lizzie’s thoughts. Each time, she shoved them away. Braden was not the man for her.
She arrived home to a chilled and dark house, a sharp contrast to her aunt’s bright and welcoming home.
When she finally fell asleep after hours of tossing and turning, her dreams were tortured by thoughts of Braden, and the horrifying realization that she’d let fear and doubt stand in her way rather than giving him a chance.
Chapter Seven
Halfway up the driveway, Lizzie stopped her car in shock.
Braden was on her front doorstep, pacing back and forth, his dark hair raked back and his blue tie askew. She wasn’t sure he’d ever looked more handsome.
For long moments, she sat there, debating what to do.
But he made the decision easier. Obviously sensing her indecision, he jogged down the steps and followed the path leading to the driveway. Then he shoved his hands into his pockets and waited while she moved the gear shifter into Park.
He rocked back and forth as he waited for her to exit, and when she did, he took a respectful step back.
“Lizzie…” His voice cracked, and so did the ice around her heart.
How long had he been here, standing outside in the relentless Houston heat and humidity?
“I—” He gave a rueful grin. “Fuck it all.”
She waited, eyebrows drawn together.
“I knew what I wanted to say to you. And I had a speech all prepared. Well, Jaxon helped me with it.”
“Jaxon?”
“Jaxon Mills. You know, the internet star who has magical woo-woo words for every occasion.”
“I adore him.” And Braden for taking a risk and asking his friend.
“But now that I’m here… And I look at you, how beautiful you are. How much you mean to me.” He exhaled and rocked forward onto the balls of his feet. “I can’t remember a damn single word that I wanted to say, and I’m screwing this all up.” He swallowed. “If you tell me to leave, I promise I’ll never contact you again.”
That was definitely the safer option. But since she’d seen him last, she’d been an emotional wreck. It was difficult to believe that an actual breakup could
be any worse. The time she spent with him had been wonderful, and she knew that if they were together, there would be dozens, hundreds of other experiences that would be equally spectacular.
If she refused to take a risk, she might not have further pain, but she’d also miss out on the joy.
In the end, which was worse?
“I’ve missed you, Lizzie.” The words were spaced out, and they were jagged with emotion. “At night, I walk around the house, lost. When you were there, I had a sense of comfort. But now…”
“Now?”
“It’s not a home without you.”
Home. Those things she wanted.
“A couple of weeks ago, I met up with Rafe. We had a long talk.”
“About what?”
“My reputation, mostly.”
“The Scandalous Billionaire.”
He winced. “You were right to walk away, even though it devastated me.”
It had?
When he continued, raw honesty roughened his words. “I’ve never had a long-term relationship, never wanted one. Until now.”
Her stomach tumbled.
“You know my parents had a fucked-up marriage—hell, it still is. For more than twenty years, they’ve lived in separate houses without communicating. They’re both stuck in their grief, blaming each other for my sister’s death.”
And neglecting Braden.
“But the truth is, there are good examples of committed relationships. I just haven’t been looking for them.”
Did she dare hope?
“I really am screwing this up.” For a few seconds he was silent. “I’m hoping you’ll be willing to take a chance on me, make my reputation a thing of the past.”
“What does that mean?” As a form of protection, she wrapped her arms around herself.
“That I want forever with you.”
“You…”
Right then, in her driveway, mindless of anyone who might drive by or be outside watching, he dropped to one knee. “I love you, Lizzie.”
Stunned, she reached for the car door to steady herself.
A part of her had adored him for years, since the time he was kind to her when she was younger, less confident.
Braden reached into his suit jacket. “Will you marry me?” He pulled out a ring with a gigantic diamond.
The sun reflected off the gem, refracting a thousand different directions. Mesmerized by shock, she stared at the twinkling facets.
“Lizzie? For God’s sake, say something.”
She shook herself and met his gaze. “Why?”
He blinked. “Why?”
“I… I didn’t expect this.” She shook her head. Not in a million years. “Braden, you don’t need to do this. We can date.” She blushed. “Have sex.”
“You’re the one, Lizzie. I don’t want to date you or have an affair with you. You’re the woman I want to marry, to cherish and adore for all eternity.”
“You want…?” The picture he created was one she wanted, with all of her being. Yet she still tried to be practical. One of them needed to be. “We don’t know each other that well.”
“Is that true? I’ve known you most of my life. I know you’re honest. You have integrity. And damnably high standards.” He smiled up at her. “You’ll demand that your husband behave in a certain way. And I want to be that man for you. I want to be the father of your children. Let me prove myself worthy of you every single day.”
“Braden…” Her heart threatened to explode with love she was trying to contain.
“Marry me, Elizabeth—Lizzie—Ryan.”
“But… But…” Unable to think, she stood there, blinking.
“Do you love me?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“There are complications. I love my job, and I put in for a transfer.” But how could she leave Braden now that she’d found him?
“We can figure it out. I can work from almost anywhere, or you can fly home from time to time. I’m not asking you to give up anything, I’m asking you to let me give you more than you ever imagined. There’s a reason I never committed before. I could never walk away from my wife. Marriage is a forever thing.”
Which was what she wanted. After what he’d gone through, she believed him. He would never abandon her or their children. Lizzie closed her eyes, wanting to pinch herself. Was it truly possible for dreams to come true?
“Be my bride? The other half of me? The one I go through life with?”
“Yes. Yes.” A thousand times. A thousand times a thousand. “I love you, Braden Gallagher.”
He slipped the ring on her finger, and the fit was perfect. Honestly, she didn’t care about the diamond. She cared about the man.
Then he stood. “I have champagne chilling in a cooler in my car.”
Of course he did.
He took a couple of steps toward his vehicle, then stopped and came back. Seeing him uncertain made her heart swell even more.
“I didn’t think this through.” He shrugged. “I want to carry you into the house…but we have the champagne.”
“Can it wait?”
He quirked an eyebrow in a way that let her know he was interested in what she had to say.
“I’d rather have you.”
“The champagne can wait…but I can’t!”
He closed her car door before scooping her from the ground.
“You can’t do this!” She kicked and squirmed, but he tightened his grip, holding her close against his chest. “Braden!”
“Be still, woman!”
His fierce growl sent shockwaves through her. “Or what, Mr. Gallagher, Sir?”
“You’re about to find out.”
There was both threat and promise in his words.
He carried her up the path, toward the house and the future that suddenly looked much brighter than she could have imagined.
Epilogue
A calendar reminder vibrated Lizzie’s watch. Since she was already in the Sterling Uptown hotel’s posh but empty lobby, she dismissed the notification and continued walking toward the specialty coffee and confectionary shop.
Though she reached La Patisserie five minutes early, Rafe was already there, occupying a small table at the far corner, next to a large window. He had a porcelain cup in front of him, along with a plate adorned with several macarons, each a different color—yellow, orange, and light purple. His head was bent, and he was jotting something on his phone screen.
Because Lizzie had been up since well before dawn and had consumed enough coffee to power her through a week or more, she went to the counter and ordered a sparkling mineral water with a slice of fresh lime.
Still ahead of schedule, she pushed down her nerves and headed for her boss, who looked up before tucking his high-tech device inside his jacket pocket. She’d worked for him for years, so she shouldn’t be nervous about their meeting. But he’d only sent her a request a couple of hours ago, and as far as she knew, his visit to the property hadn’t been planned. Generally when he dropped by, they met in her office. The irregularity of the situation made her wonder if something was wrong.
“Ah, Elizabeth. There you are.” Rafe pushed back his chair and half stood while she took her seat. “Thanks for making the time.”
As if she had a choice. “Of course.”
“I know this is inconvenient.”
Instead of replying, she squeezed the juice from the piece of fruit into her glass. She had a million details to oversee for the property’s numerous upcoming festivities. Their first event was this evening—a gathering of VIPs, most of them Titans—hosted by Braden.
They’d worked together on the details, and in addition to overseeing the function, she was cohosting with him, her first as his future wife.
The fact she intended to marry a member of the Zeta Society still boggled her mind.
Rafe glanced around the bright, airy café. “Every detail is perfect.”
It w
as. There were half-round booths, the backs covered with bright pink material. The scattered tables had fanciful feet and legs, and striped-fabric chairs were pushed beneath them. Apothecary jars of various shapes and sizes adorned the glass shelving attached high on one wall.
“The team you hired did a great job.”
While she appreciated his approval, she’d merely executed his idea. He’d spared no expense to make this property one of the finest in the chain.
Houston was a rapidly growing cosmopolitan city. Dignitaries, businesspeople, actors, and rock stars demanded the Uptown’s type of extravagance and pampering. On all fronts, he had delivered.
After staring at the cookies for a while, he asked if she’d like one.
“Thanks, but no. I did a sampling the other day.” She’d need to hit the elliptical machine if she ate another one.
“Which do you suggest I start with?”
“If you like floral, I recommend the purple one. It’s lavender and rose.” With a to-die-for buttercream filling.
After studying the choices, Rafe picked up the one she suggested and took a hesitant bite. “Wow.” Then he dropped the cookie. “Uhm… Yeah. It tastes like flowers.”
“I wasn’t kidding, and I agree, it’s a bit unexpected.” Lizzie smiled. “The orange with chocolate-bourbon ganache may be more to your liking.” The pastry chef, trained in Paris, was renowned for her unusual combinations. Additionally she planned to add seasonal flavors, including pumpkin spice for fall, candy-cane mocha for winter, mint julep for the Kentucky Derby, strawberry shortcake and limeade for summer. Repeat customers would always find something new to savor.
“I’ll pass.” Rafe nudged the plate toward her. “How much do we charge for those?”
“Ten dollars for three.” As she eyed the delicacies, her resistance began to crumble. “It’s a discount over buying them individually.”
“We can get that for something so small?”
“All day long.” Starting at five a.m. On the weekends, the café would be open until midnight for late-night snacking. In addition to cookies, Chef had plenty of other choices including crème brûlée, tarts, petits fours, miniature cakes. “We anticipate guests will add a specialty coffee or tea, or even a glass of wine, bringing the average check to twenty dollars.” Which was a savings over ordering a couple of desserts at their restaurants.
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