by K. M. Scott
“You’d rather be thought of as difficult?”
Tressa looked down toward the white carpet on the floor and shrugged. “This is why I’m not a good fit for you or anyone, for that matter. Maybe there’s no word to describe what I am. Maybe I’m just a bitch like I said before.”
I took a step toward her and then another. Opening my arms, I brought her to me and hugged her tightly. “You’re so focused on fighting this thing between us. I don’t know why, but you’ll tell me when you want to. Until then, I’m not giving up on you. Just giving you fair warning.”
She tilted her head up and gave me a tiny smile. “I’m always going to be difficult. I just am. I want to believe you’re an okay guy, but my experience with men says otherwise.”
God, I had no idea what she’d gone through with men before me. I could only imagine. Weak-ass men afraid of strong women were everywhere, unfortunately, and in her dark eyes, I saw she’d had more than a few run-ins with that kind of asshole guy.
I wasn’t one of them, though. For all my faults, I wasn’t the type of man who feared a strong woman. Exactly the opposite, in fact, and I planned on proving that to her in spades.
At the moment, though, all I wanted to do was make her happy. “Well, first things first. I’m way better than okay. I would think the reviews of our night together show that. Secondly, I do cute romantic things like send flowers. That’s got to be a sign I’m more than okay. I guess if I went out and picked them that might be more impressive, but I have a feeling if I stole my neighbor’s flowers, she’d call the cops. That’s another point in my favor. I don’t steal flowers.”
As much as she fought it, a smile lit up Tressa’s beautiful face and she giggled in that adorable way I couldn’t help but love. This difficult woman who insisted on putting me through my paces and pushed me away over and over giggled at my stupid jokes.
“You say the silliest things. You know that?” she asked as she cradled my face in her hands.
“I’m disarming. It’s one of my best traits.”
I leaned down and pressed my forehead to hers. “And I’m not going to give up on you, so you’re just going to have to find another way to deal with me.”
Chapter Twelve
Tressa
Crossing my legs in front of me, I sat on my bed and scanned the designs for the London Richmont hotel the designer sent a few minutes before. As my eyes roamed over the images, I ground my teeth in frustration. I hated each one more than the last. All she could think of was remaking the hotel with a retro design. The woman couldn’t talk about anything else since she joined the project.
The problem was I didn’t want it to look like something out of the 1950s. I flipped through the pictures again. The furniture looked skimpy and boxy, and what was with those wooden spindle dividers that hung from the ceiling cutting up the lobby area and that enormous red lamp that looked like some horrible swollen tentacle lurching out into the middle of the seating area?
I should have never agreed to let her show me anything retro. Christ. Of all the decades she wanted to emulate, why that one?
Disgusted, I set my work aside and closed my eyes. This meant we’d have to have another meeting so I could explain once more what my vision for the hotel redesign was. Hopefully, she’d listen this time and not ignore every point I mentioned in favor of wretched pinks and yellows, geometric prints, and hideous lighting.
I could have simply hired someone to handle this, but I wanted to do it myself, even though I was the COO. I wanted to put my mark on the Richmont chain. Now I wondered if that had been a mistake.
Pushing all the hassle with the designer out of my mind, I took a deep breath in and tried to relax. All of this would work out. I just had to make sure she knew what a Richmont hotel should look like and how the chain presented itself. Once she understood that, everything else would go smoothly.
At least I hoped it would.
Relax, Tressa. You can handle this.
I smiled as the thought of what Killian would say to me at that moment popped into my head. He’d make some stupid joke so I’d smile or say something cute to make me giggle. Even when I wanted to remain upset, he knew how to lighten my mood.
That thought led to another. I shouldn’t have let him in last night. One night was enough.
Who was I kidding? One night was never going to be enough. I knew that from the minute he kissed me the first time. The man had the ability to make my head swim with just a single kiss. And that said nothing about how he made me feel during sex.
God, I didn’t want to think that way. I wanted to believe we wouldn’t work out. We were so different, so how could we?
But that wasn’t the truth. The truth was I enjoyed being with him. When it was just the two of us, he was a great guy. But when the cameras were around? I hated that kind of publicity, and the fact that he loved it bothered me.
I leaned back against the pillows as the memory of the last time we were together settled into my mind. No matter how hard I made it for him to get close to me, he didn’t give up. I walked away, and he followed. I pushed him away, and he came back with his arms open wanting to hold me.
He wasn’t going to give up, and I loved that. I didn’t want to admit it to anyone, even to him, but I secretly wanted him around.
As I got lost in thought about Killian, my phone rang. My heart skipped a beat at the idea that it might be him, but one glance and I saw it was Summer calling.
Without saying hello, she asked in a voice full of concern, “Tressa, what’s going on?”
“Nothing I’m working. Why? Is something wrong? Are you and Ethan okay?”
My mind instantly traveled to the idea that Ethan had fucked up. If he did something to break them up, I was going to march right up to his apartment and let him have it. Or maybe he was hurt. Animals weren’t like humans. Maybe one of them attacked him.
As my brain raced with every conceivable stupid thing my brother could have done, Summer said, “Everything’s okay. Ethan’s fine, and I’m good. I’m just wondering how things went with Killian the other night. I never heard back from you after I returned home from the shoot.”
I breathed a sigh of relief before answering her question. “They went,” I said.
“That’s not much of an answer, but if I didn’t know better, I’d swear I can practically hear you smiling. You had a good time, didn’t you? Is he nice?”
Nice? No, nice wasn’t exactly the right word to describe Killian Brenton. Other words came to mind, though.
Sexy. Fucking incredible in bed. Distracting.
“I don’t know if I’d call him that,” I said with a chuckle. “We had a good time, though.”
My comment was met with silence for a long time before Summer squealed, “Oh my God! You slept with him, didn’t you? I can hear it in your voice. That’s the sound of a woman who had great sex with a gorgeous man!”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You did! Just admit it. It’s not like I’m going to ask about the personal details, unless you want to give me them, of course. It’s okay. You’re two grown single adults. Why can’t you have sex?”
“Please stop. I swear you and my brother are two of a kind. Is there nothing off limits with you two?”
“I won’t tell anyone, Tressa. Not even Ethan. I just think it’s great that you had a good time. That’s all I was saying.”
“Well, it’s not a big deal. Two people had dinner and a nice time. It happens all the time.”
Summer didn’t seem to be buying my dismissal of the whole Killian thing, though. “Sure, although you two aren’t just two ordinary people. He’s a star quarterback for a New York team that’s looking to have their best season in five years, and you’re the COO of Richmont Hotels and a VP at Stone Worldwide. Not exactly just two people.”
“Well, I have no idea if any of that makes a difference. It was all for a good cause anyway.”
“Yeah. The pediatric cancer foundation. Definitely a goo
d cause, although I don’t think they expected you to sleep with Killian,” Summer said with a giggle.
“God, you’re so much like Ethan! This conversation is over, and don’t tell anyone about this, Summer. Promise.”
“I promise, Tressa, but no one would have an issue with this anyway. You’re allowed to be happy. I think most people would say you’ve earned it.”
Summer sounded so much like Diana it was scary. “Well, I have to earn my salary by working, so I’ll talk to you later.”
I ended the call and tossed my phone off to the other side of the bed. I loved being friends with Summer, but sometimes she could be so silly. Then again, it would have been nice to be able to tell her about my time with Killian. I hadn’t had a good old fashioned gossip fest with another female in a long time.
Grudgingly, I returned to the redesign of the London Richmont hotel, making detailed notes on exactly how I wanted the hotel to look. A few minutes later Summer called a second time, and now she sounded frantic.
“Hey, how did you and Killian leave things after your date and whatever else you did?”
“I told you I didn’t want to talk about this, and don’t you ever say hello when you begin a call?”
“Hello. I’m just wondering if you two decided anything.”
“Decided anything? No. But I have to admit I am enjoying seeing him.”
“So you’ve seen him more than just that date for the charity?”
I finally relented and shared the details with Summer. “Yes. Okay. Yes. You’re right. We slept together. More than once. God, I didn’t realize how much I wanted to share this with someone, so I hope you’re not going to get all provincial or anything on me. As you said, we’re grown single people, right? Why can’t we have a good time? And yes, I know he’s a huge attention whore, but we’re not doing anything in public, so it will be fine.”
My confession was greeted with silence for so long that I wondered if Summer was still there. Nervously, I said, “Of all people, I didn’t think you’d be so judgmental about all of this. I expected you to be more supportive.”
“Uh, Tressa, are you watching TV right now?”
“No. Why? What does that have to do with what I just told you?” I asked as I searched the bed for the remote control.
“I think you better turn it on. Go to the Premiere channel,” Summer said in a tone that sent a chill racing down my back.
Oh, God. Please don’t let him be telling people about us on worldwide TV. Please, God. He seemed to understand how much I hated the spotlight. He wouldn’t do that. Would he?
Afraid of what the answer to my question could be, I asked Summer, “Why? What the hell channel is the Premiere channel? Is it a sports channel or something? Is Killian on a sports talk show or something?”
“It’s up in the low three thousands,” Summer answered in a somber voice. “Thirty-one twelve.”
I pressed the numbers into the remote and a moment later on the screen, up popped Killian with a stunning platinum blonde. Tall and willowy, she had the most perfect breasts I’d ever seen, and they were practically spilling out of the black evening gown she wore. I had no idea who this woman was, but they looked beautiful together, like they were made for one another.
Then a thousand questions raced through my mind. Where were they? Why was Killian dressed in a tux and with this woman? Who was this woman? Clearly, they knew one another well, if the way she draped herself over his arm was any indication.
“What am I looking at, Summer?” I asked, hating how much hurt hung off each word.
“I don’t know. Who is she? This is the movie premiere for One Lucky Day, some movie about a guy winning the lottery and then having some horrible things happen to him. She’s in the movie, I think.”
None of that answered the real question I had about the scene playing out in front of me.
“Is this live?” I asked, unsure why that would matter.
“Yeah, I think so.”
With each passing moment, my stomach twisted into a knot as I watched Killian walking the woman down a red carpet, basking in the attention as photographers took pictures of him and the beautiful actress hanging on his arm. I knew I shouldn’t be jealous. Why would I be jealous? We had no commitment between us. I’d made it perfectly clear to him that I didn’t want anything like that.
Then why did every moment I watched him with that woman make me feel like someone was hollowing out my insides?
Swallowing hard, I forced myself to sound like this didn’t bother me at all. “The man can wear a tux. I’ll give him that. And whoever she is, she can wear a black gown like nobody I’ve ever seen.”
“Maybe they’re just friends,” Summer suggested, but it sounded like a sad attempt to be helpful.
“I have to get back to work. I’ll talk to you later.”
Summer began to say something, but I ended the call without another word as I stared at the TV screen in front of me. Killian looked happy with all those people clamoring to get his picture or his date’s picture. Whichever it was, he looked right at home in that scene.
I watched for a few moments more before turning off the TV. I had no idea if this woman was just a friend of Killian’s, like Summer said, or if she was something more serious. It didn’t matter.
Or did it?
Slowly, my disappointment and sadness turned to anger that he’d been cheating on this actress with me. I’d seen her with him in some of those hundreds of pictures I’d found. She was someone he’d dated before.
Or maybe they’d never broken up? Regretting every moment I spent with him, I chastised myself for ever giving him a chance.
You should have gone with your gut, Tressa. Why did you ever doubt yourself?
Chapter Thirteen
Killian
The redeye from LA turned out to be even worse than I thought it would be. Three hours seated next to some guy who smelled like he’d bathed in twenty dollar cologne and in front of a woman who quietly sobbed the entire time from the moment the plane took off to the moment the plane landed in New York. I’d tried to relax and get some sleep, but between his smell and her sadness, it wasn’t happening.
Stepping off the flight, I squinted at the daylight and inhaled a deep breath of fresh air, thankful to be away from that guy. Sherilyn had arranged to have a driver waiting for me, and I found him standing outside the terminal. At least that would be good. I could count on her for that.
I slid into the back seat of the black Town Car while the driver talked about it being a nice day in the city, according to some weather forecast. Interrupting him, I said, “Take me to the Richmont hotel in Midtown.”
As the car rolled toward its destination, I thought about trying to call Tressa again but decided against it. I’d called her three times before getting on the plane, but each time I’d gotten that damn away message of hers.
I couldn’t help but wonder why she hadn’t answered. When we saw each other the night before last, we hadn’t even had sex. We spent the whole time talking, and I thought we had a good time. I thought I’d finally succeeding in showing her I wasn’t just some attention whore athlete, and even more, I wasn’t some asshole guy like the ones she’d dated before.
So why that goddamned away message again?
The car ride felt like it took forever, but we finally reached the Richmont and I jumped out of the backseat as I yelled back at the driver, “I’ll be back in a few minutes!”
I saw the night security guard who let me up to the penthouse last time, so I flashed him a smile and made a beeline for him. A few well-placed words and if Tressa hadn’t left for work yet, I’d be upstairs to see her in a matter of minutes.
“Hey, Charlie! Do they keep you here ’round the clock?” I asked with a laugh, only half kidding.
He responded to my lighthearted teasing with a stony look and gave me his prepared speech like last time. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t let you go up there.”
Time for the charm offensive.<
br />
Pulling the slightly overweight man aside, I patted him on the back like we were long-time friends. “Charlie, I get that she has you telling everyone that, but she doesn’t mean me. Trust me. I’m guessing it just slipped her mind.”
The security guard looked around to make sure no one was nearby and then whispered, “She gave everyone orders to not let you or anyone up there, but I’m going to tell you the truth. Miss Stone isn’t here. She had the car service take her away in the middle of the night around three a.m.”
Three in the morning? Why would she leave at that time? Instantly, my mind went to another man.
“Where’d she go?” I whispered, sure he wasn’t lying to me but also sure I had no idea why Tressa would go out in the middle of the night.
Unless it had to do with some guy.
“That I don’t know. It was all very hush-hush. All I know is she isn’t here anymore.”
“Was she going to her office?” I asked, hoping that was the answer and not that Tressa was spending the night with some other man.
Charlie shook his head. “I don’t think so. She had a bag like she takes when she’s going on a trip.”
A trip? Granted, we weren’t at the point in our relationship that we told one another everything. I hadn’t told her about my quick trip to the West coast, so maybe my gut feeling was misplaced. The problem was I couldn’t shake the idea that something was wrong.
“Any idea when she’s scheduled to come back?”
The security guard shook his head. “No idea. She just came down at right after eight o’clock last night and told us no one was to be allowed upstairs, including you, and then she came down again at three this morning with her bag. She got into a car waiting for her and left.”
Quickly, I seized on that car as jealousy coursed through me. “Was it the usual car she uses from the car service or was it someone’s car, like someone she was traveling with?”
Holding his hand up like he wanted to stop me from jumping to the wrong conclusion, Charlie smiled. “She got into a car service vehicle like she always takes. In fact, the only other car I’ve ever seen her get into is yours, Mr. Brenton.”