by HELEN HARDT
I part my lips. He knows all my signals. I’m an open book to this man.
“Why would you lie to me?”
I’m not lying. But the words don’t come, because they are a lie in themselves. I know it, and he knows it.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“Don’t be sorry, Skye. Just don’t lie to me. I can see right through you. I want your complete trust, and it goes both ways.”
His blue gaze penetrates me then. And yes, in that moment I believe that he can see right through me. Into my mind. Into my heart. Into my soul.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
“Ripe for the picking,” I affirm.
“Unfortunately, I have a meeting.”
“On a Saturday morning?”
“Racquetball. With my attorney.”
“Oh.” I try to hide my disappointment, but as usual, I know he sees right through me.
“I’ll pick you up at six tonight.”
“Okay. Where will we be going?”
“Dinner with my dad and brother, remember?”
Shit. That’s right. I can’t believe I forgot.
“Right, sorry.”
He lets the towel drop, and I try not to gape at his firm ass and semi-hard cock. He dresses in the clothes he wore last night. Then he checks his phone. “Christopher’s outside. I’ll see you tonight.” He stoops down and gives me a quick peck on the lips.
Please. Don’t leave. Stay here and fuck me. I need you so badly.
But he’s out the door, and I’m alone. Naked and alone and needy. I glance again at the pink vibrator. Then I pick it up, rise, and take it over to the sink to wash it. I put it away, buried in my top drawer once more with the others.
It’s always been useless to me, and it still is.
Only one man can make me come.
Braden. Only Braden.
I walk back out to the kitchen for more coffee, and—
I zero in on a large gift bag sitting on top of my small table. How had I missed it before? Unless Braden somehow hid it and then brought it out before he left the apartment this morning. My heart races as I read the tag.
For my favorite photographer. Love, Braden.
I gulp as I remove the tissue paper surrounding the contents of the bag. Then I gasp.
It’s a Canon EOS 5D Mark IV complete with lens kit—the camera of my dreams, which retails for about five thousand dollars.
My heart nearly stops.
He brought this last night—another gift he knew I’d love.
And I, because I insisted on taking control by refusing to find a phone charger, deprived him of his happiness in giving it to me.
“Oh, Braden,” I say out loud. I open the box and stare lovingly at what’s inside.
Man. I deserved that punishment.
…
“I just can’t get over it,” I say. “The camera…”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” Braden says during the ride to his father’s home.
I called him, of course, as soon as I could wrap my head around the fact that I now owned the camera I’d always wanted. He was in the middle of racquetball, so I left another voicemail. When he returned my call, I thanked him, stumbling over words and nearly sobbing. Then I thanked him profusely again when he arrived at my apartment this evening.
“I do,” I say. “You came to my apartment with a surprise for me, and I—”
“Stop, Skye. It’s okay. You’ve already been punished for that. It’s done.”
“But—”
“I want you to have the camera. It’s yours. You deserve it.”
I have no words left. This man will be my undoing. He’s stoic and controlling and a giant pain in my ass one minute. The next he’s loving and generous and thoughtful and romantic the next. My eyes leak a few tears.
He brushes them away with his lips. “Easy, now. I don’t want to introduce my girlfriend to my brother and father while she’s crying.”
I sniff back the tears and get hold of myself. “I love you, Braden.”
“I love you too, Skye.”
We arrive at a mansion in Swampscott. I try not to gape as Braden and I walk to the door.
“Your dad lives here?”
“Yep. This is where he hangs his hat.”
“Wow.”
“It’s just a house, Skye.”
“It’s not like any house I’ve ever been in.”
“You might want to save that judgment until you see the inside.”
Okay, fine. My judgment still won’t change.
A uniformed maid answers the door, her gray hair in a tight bun. “Good evening, Mr. Black.”
“Hello, Sadie. This is Skye Manning.”
“Ma’am,” she says. “May I take your jacket?”
“Sure.” I remove my cardigan, which isn’t actually a jacket, and hand it to her. After two phone calls with Tessa and one with Betsy, I decided on black capri pants, black strappy sandals, and a gray silk camisole.
Braden hasn’t said anything about my clothes, and because he was running late when he picked me up, I was already in the sweater and we didn’t have a chance to talk at my place.
But here we are. A marble tiled foyer below me and a crystal chandelier hanging above me. A huge living area off to the right, where two gentlemen sit.
Braden takes my hand, and we walk over to them. They both stand.
“Hey, Bray,” the younger man says.
“Ben, Dad, this is Skye.”
They’re both nearly as beautiful as Braden.
“Skye, this is my father, Bobby Black, and my brother, Ben.”
I shake Bobby’s hand first. He’s actually slightly taller than both of his sons. His hair is completely gray, and he has some laugh lines around his dark-brown eyes, but talk about a silver fox.
“Pleased to meet you,” he says.
“You too, Mr. Black.”
“Call me Bobby.”
“Okay, sure.”
He releases my hand, and I turn to Braden’s little brother. Although “little” is definitely not the word for Ben Black. He’s every bit as big as Braden, and are my eyes deceiving me or is he slightly taller, too? How on earth is Braden the runt of this litter?
“Have a seat,” Bobby says. “Ben’s our bartender tonight.”
“I’ll get you a Wild Turkey,” Ben says to Braden. Then to me, “What would you like, Skye?”
“Wild Turkey works for me. It’s my favorite.”
“Someone who shares your taste in booze?” Ben laughs. “She’s a keeper, Bray.”
Braden squeezes my hand. I warm. Does that mean what I think it means? That he agrees that I’m a keeper?
I sit next to Braden on the couch, across from where Bobby is sitting in a wingback chair. Ben brings our drinks, and I’m thankful to have something to do with my hands.
Ben chats about nothing in particular until the doorbell rings again.
“That will be Kathy,” Bobby says.
“Who’s Kathy?” Braden asks.
“Dad’s date, apparently,” Ben says.
Braden’s eyebrows nearly fly off his forehead.
This is going to be an interesting evening.
Chapter Twenty
I keep my eyebrows firmly in place despite the fact that Kathy looks about my age. Seriously. My age. Either that or she has really good genes and a hell of a plastic surgeon.
“Braden, Ben, Skye,” Bobby says, holding on to Kathy’s arm, “this is Kathy Harmon.”
“I’m so thrilled to finally meet you,” Kathy gushes. She pulls Ben into a hug.
Another hugger. Braden is next, and he looks stiff as a board from where I’m sitting.
“And Skye,” Kathy says, “you are adorable.”
> Adorable? Maybe I am, in my tight capri pants and camisole. Kathy is wearing a pink sundress and stiletto sandals. Her hair is long, straight, and blond and falls down her back in a thick waterfall. Am I supposed to stand? Ben and Braden, being gentlemen, stood when Kathy entered.
If I stand, she’s going to grab me and hug me. Not looking forward to that, but I’m nothing if not polite.
I stand.
And she grabs me and hugs me.
Not just a run-of-the-mill I’ve-never-met-you-before hug. No, this is a squeeze. I can’t help but inhale her floral perfume. Ugh. Headache city.
“Great to meet you,” I say when she finally lets me go.
“Bobby,” Kathy says, “I would love a scotch on the rocks.”
“Ben, can you get that?” Bobby asks.
“I’m on it.” Ben ambles over to the bar.
“So tell me everything about yourself, Braden,” Kathy says.
“Not much to tell. You can google me.”
In fact, I’m sure she’s already googled all of them. She’s probably googled me as well.
Ben brings her drink and she takes a sip. “Smoky and peaty. Just the way I like it.” Then she sets the glass on a coaster.
“Kathy is a law student,” Bobby says. “She’s interning with us.”
I do some quick math in my head. If she’s interning, she’s most likely a third year, and if she went straight from high school, to college, to law school, she can’t be more than twenty-five years old.
Yep, I pegged it. My age. My age, and she’s dating Braden’s father.
Maybe I shouldn’t have dismissed the Tessa thing so quickly. Having her here with me now would be a godsend. Funny how when Braden asked me to invite Tessa, I thought for a minute he wanted her for his father. Clearly Bobby likes them young, and Tessa has it all over this woman.
Makes me wonder what Braden’s mother was like. He doesn’t talk about her, says it’s too hard.
“Dad,” Braden says, “may I talk to you privately for a moment?”
No. No, no, no. Do not leave me here with your brother and your father’s girlfriend.
“What about?”
“An investment I’ve got my eye on. I wouldn’t bother you during your dinner party, but it’s kind of an urgent thing.”
“Urgent” my behind. He’s going to shred his father for inviting Little Miss Muffet along tonight. It’s written all over his face.
“Sure.” Bobby stands and leaves the room with Braden.
Not awkward at all.
“So, Skye,” Kathy starts. “I hear you know Addison Ames.”
And the name-dropping begins…
I try to smile. No reason to be impolite. Kathy has no way of knowing what a bitch Addie is. “I used to work for her. I don’t anymore.”
“I’d love to meet her sometime.”
Oh, honey, you are so barking up the wrong tree. Addie would rather die than do me a favor. “Sure, I’ll try to arrange it.”
“Would you? I really want to get into the corporate hospitality and entertainment business after I graduate, and Ames Hotels would be a great place to start.”
“Really?” I say. “Interesting. I suppose they need lawyers, too.”
“Absolutely, they do.”
And…we’ve effectively run out of things to talk about.
“If you’re interested in corporate hospitality and entertainment,” Ben says, “why are you interning with Black, Inc.?”
Nicely done, Ben. I smile his way. A darned good question, too.
“What can I say? Your father made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
Money. She’s a money grabber, then. Not overly surprising, given she’s dating a man twice her age.
“Where do you go to law school?” I ask.
“Harvard, of course.”
Of course. Interesting. She must be intelligent if she got into Harvard. Either that, or her daddy bought her way in. I doubt that, though, or she wouldn’t be gunning for Bobby Black.
Or would she? He’s devastatingly handsome. Silver foxes don’t come any hotter. What’s your angle, sis?
“Are you in your third year, then?”
“I am. But as much as I enjoy learning, I really can’t wait to get out into the real world. That’s why I’m enjoying the internship with Black, Inc. so much.”
“Where did you do your undergrad work?” I ask.
“Boston U.”
“So did I.” Which means, if she’s a third-year law student, she and I were at BU at the same time.
“Really? That’s amazing!”
I nod, although I don’t see anything amazing about it.
“What did you study?” she continues.
“Photography.”
“Interesting. Why were you working for Addison Ames, then?”
Good question. Kind of akin to the question Ben just asked her. Yeah, looks like Little Miss Muffet got into Harvard on her merits.
“Are you kidding?” I say, as though anyone with a brain would know exactly why I was working for Addie. “She’s a mega influencer. It was a huge audience for my photography.”
“But she posts selfies.”
I can’t help myself. “No, she doesn’t. I took all her photos. I’m not sure who’s taking them now.”
“I see.” She smiles. “Would you two excuse me for a minute? I need to use the powder room.” She stands and walks directly out of the room without asking Ben where it is.
Bingo. Kathy has been here before.
Once she’s gone, Ben smiles at me. “She’s interesting,” he says sarcastically.
How much am I allowed to say to Ben? Can I say what I’m truly thinking?
“Dad has a thing for younger women,” he continues.
“Apparently.” I smile.
“He’s never serious.” Then he lowers his voice. “I don’t think he’ll ever get married again.”
“You better not tell Kathy that.”
“Kathy doesn’t want to marry him. She’s like all the others. She’s using him for his money and his contacts.”
“And you’re okay with her doing that to your dad?”
“Are you kidding? He knows it. He’s using her, too.”
Ben’s outlook is interesting. Braden said he’s attracted to the wrong kind of women and that he lavishes his money on them. Apparently his father does the same.
“Why don’t you think he’ll ever get married again?” I ask.
“Because he didn’t do very well the first time. Don’t get me wrong. He loved our mother, but they got married young when she got pregnant with Braden, and neither of them was ready for it. Dad did some things he shouldn’t have done, and Mom paid the price.”
“Braden doesn’t talk about your mother,” I say, trying to decipher Ben’s enigmatic statement in my head.
Ben inhales and drops his gaze for a moment. “None of us does, really. Growing up in our house was…not optimal.”
Not optimal? Boy, do I have questions. Does Braden’s childhood explain the way he is? I already know they went hungry sometimes. But he seems to have some pleasant memories of his mother as well.
I could ask the same question about anyone. I grew up on a farm with parents who are still married. It wasn’t perfect—my parents even separated for a few months once—but it was pretty harmless. Still, one freaky experience with a scarecrow in the cornfield and I became a mega control freak?
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, well, Bray and I turned out okay. As for Dad, he’s happy. I mean, who wouldn’t be? His son made him a billionaire, and now he can have all the young pussy he wants.”
I widen my eyes at his bluntness.
He chuckles. “Did I insult you?”
“Not at all. Just not nor
mal dinner-party conversation.”
“We Blacks aren’t really the dinner-party type. We’re blue collar all the way.”
“I know how and where you grew up,” I say, “but I wouldn’t call your brother blue collar now.”
“We have manners,” Ben says. “We know how to act in pretty much every situation. Our business wouldn’t be thriving if we didn’t know how to do that.”
“I wonder, though,” I say, “if your brother would use the word ‘pussy’ in a conversation with your girlfriend.”
“He wouldn’t, but it’s not because he’s got an issue with the word. Braden’s just not a big talker.”
Ben apparently does know his brother after all.
“And you are?”
“Haven’t you figured that out by now?” He smiles.
I look over my shoulder.
“You’re wondering when Kathy will return,” Ben says.
“Well…yeah.”
“Not until after Bray and Dad return. She’s eavesdropping.”
I drop my mouth open. “How do you know that?” I whisper.
“I know her type. Besides, how long does it take to fix your lipstick and piss?”
I can’t help it. I laugh aloud. Braden’s brother seems like a lot of fun. I really should’ve brought Tessa. They would totally have hit it off.
“Doesn’t it bother you? Kathy eavesdropping, I mean.”
“Not really. If I know my brother, he knows she’s there, and he’s watching what he says. Besides, you and I both know Bray took Dad away to read him the riot act about inviting her to the dinner where we were both going to meet you for the first time. No chance of Kathy overhearing any business secrets.”
I smile. “Yes, I can’t deny that’s exactly what went through my mind when Braden went to talk to your father alone.”
“You know my brother well.”
“In some ways,” I say. “I’ll be honest with you, though. He keeps a lot hidden.”
“That’s Braden,” Ben says. “He’s very careful. He’s been burned, and he’ll never let it happen again.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Braden and his father return, and exactly sixty seconds later—seriously, I’m looking at my watch—Kathy comes back in. She dominates the conversation while I mull over Ben’s words.