“For Gainesworth Equity,” Graham clarifies. “I’ll buy you out.”
My company is worth a lot. But not that much. It will be. It’s heading in that direction and I won’t stop until I surpass it. I built it from the ground up. Gainesworth Equity is the company that I dreamed about in high school and worked toward in college. So what’s Graham’s interest in it? Why trot me out to fucking New York City to jerk me around about my company?
“Why?” He didn’t answer me the first time I asked but inquired about how I linked up with the companies he was busy buying shares in.
“Why not?” His arrogant tone reminds me of my brother.
“Because this is business, and your problem with my brother was personal.”
He frowns. “You think this is because I hated your brother and therefore hate you?”
I nod. That’s exactly what I think.
He leans back in his chair, his shrewd gaze on me. “Did you know that Chloe wasn’t his kid?”
“There was no reason to think she wasn’t.”
“But you knew that Genevieve had been engaged to me when they got together.”
Liam’s wife, Genevieve, wasn’t a popular topic with my family. She still isn’t. I never knew what Liam saw in her, but we knew that she’d been Graham’s fiancée before she suddenly appeared on my brother’s arm. “He didn’t talk about it much. We assumed you two had a falling out.”
I recall those quick conversations with Liam. He’d tell me things were good and business was good. Not much else about his family or his former best friend. Once I moved halfway across the country to the frozen tundra of the Midwest, we didn’t talk like we used to. I think he assumed I’d move to New York and follow in his exact footsteps.
But I had a hard enough time living in his shadow. I wasn’t going to drag Natalie into a life of constant judgment. She and I needed a place of our own to start our business and our family.
Graham nods, a faraway look in his eyes. “I’ve been following you. Impressive. What you did and from where you did it.”
As if North Dakota is on the moon. “As long as there’s internet and aircraft, I could build Gainesworth Equity anywhere.”
His brows lift. “But you moved from Pennsylvania to North Dakota?”
I give a non-committal shrug. “It was a growing business center then and it’s more so now. We’re a quick flight from Minneapolis and from there we can go anywhere.” But Natalie’s parents moved to Fargo after us, so we didn’t need to travel. For so long, we couldn’t afford to travel.
“And you have kids?”
“Two daughters.” I don’t peg Graham as a get-to-know-you guy. What’s with the questions?
“And you’re divorced?”
I clench my jaw, fed up with his prying. He can ask about my work, but I can’t see why someone like Graham Morgan cares about my personal life.
Before I reply, he sits forward. “You don’t have to answer, of course. But I’ve seen it a lot. Business takes off, personal life crumbles. Maybe you want to think about selling. I thought I could help.”
My personal life is none of his business and a phone call would’ve sufficed. “The company is as much Liam’s as it is mine.”
“He helped you start it?”
“No.” I can’t bring myself to tell him the rest. Being out here, where Liam got his start, talking to his best friend, made it feel like my next stop should be to hang out with my brother.
His eyes narrow slightly before they infuse with understanding. “I see. Well, I’ll reconsider my interest in our mutual clients. But… don’t forget about me if you ever think about selling.”
Not on his life, but I give him a smile. “How old is Chloe now?”
He rises and stretches out his hand. “Oh, you know. Seven going on twenty-seven, but I’m assured that’s normal.”
I shake his hand and chuckle, but my mind conjures that last image of my own daughters. My chest squeezes at the image of Natalie walking away with them. I miss them. Part of me wants to tell her how much, but I don’t care to add to her stress. “It certainly is.”
We leave the boardroom. Helena is bent over her phone. She’s always working. Looking up, her gaze drifts between me and Graham, nothing but professional competence in the blue depths. Her demeanor is half the reason I hired her. The last thing I need to worry about is an assistant who wants in my bed more than behind a desk.
“Looks like we’ll get home in a few hours,” I tell her. I might even get home in time to pick up the girls so we don’t miss our night together. I’ll be less salty about the trip if I get to hang with my kids tonight.
Relief crosses her face, but it’s quickly covered with a neutral expression. “Oh, that’s great.”
Graham calls a driver to take us back to the airport. I mentally run through what I can work on en route and what can wait until I return. We’re crossing the Queensboro bridge when my phone buzzes.
Natalie. I rush to answer.
“Simon.” A sob echoes over the line. “When are you back in town? Mom collapsed and I’m at the hospital with the girls.”
* * *
Natalie
My back has a kink in it and despite Aleah—and Simon—reminding me, I never did stretch.
I barely got home and showered when Dad called. Mom fell down in the kitchen and hit her head. He was following the ambulance and I met him at the new hospital on the edge of town. I drove by it a million times while it was being built. I didn’t think that I’d be sitting here one day, in a finished waiting room, worrying about my own loved one.
Mom’s in ICU, and it guts me not to be with her, but an ICU room isn’t where grandkids need to hang out with their grandma. We’ve been in the square waiting area for hours. They’re tired of games on the tablet, the TV’s playing “boring adult shows,” and we’ve already unofficially toured the hospital twice.
“I’m bored,” Maddy whines. This isn’t the first time, but I can’t blame her.
“Me, too,” I sigh. Abby’s leaning over her chair to drape across me. I should take us all home, but I can’t leave my mother’s side, even if we’re relegated to the waiting area.
I rest my head against the wall, debating on taking another cafeteria trip, when Maddy jumps out of her chair. “Daddy!”
Simon rushes in, looking the same as I saw him this morning. He’s been wearing that suit all day with nary a wrinkle in sight. For what it cost, it should iron itself, but still. How can he look impeccable? I have on jean capris and a pink Under Armour T-shirt, and I look like both me and the clothes sat in the dryer for a few days.
He swoops Maddy up and I swear my ovaries have no idea how mentally exhausted I am because they implode. Abby runs to him as if she didn’t just see him this morning. I want to do nothing but fall into his strong arms. I remain seated, but can’t fight my relieved smile.
“Hey, Mads.” He gives Maddy a kiss, then Abby. His voice is the balm my frayed nerves need. “How’s Nana?”
“She fell and hit her head,” Maddy answers with the authority of an ICU doctor.
He looks at me and his brows furrow. “I thought she collapsed.”
“I guess she’s been fighting pneumonia and not taking it easy. She got lightheaded and lost her balance. Her head hit the floor.” Did my voice sound as tired as I must look?
He winces and sits beside me, turning Maddy to sit on a knee. “Did you know she was sick?”
“She told me she wasn’t feeling well. But you know them. They forget to tell me about their health scares.”
“You mean like when your dad didn’t tell you that he had a hunk of skin cancer carved out of his forehead?”
“Exactly.” We share a quick smile, but I rip my gaze away. It’s too familiar, makes me want too much. “So, your trip was fast.”
“I don’t get what Graham was playing at, but I got him to back off.”
“Just like that?”
His face clouds over, but his anger quickly evapo
rates. “I think it was his way of testing me, vetting me as Liam’s namesake. As if I wouldn’t make sure that my brother would be proud of what I’d built.”
What we built. I’d thought of the company as a joint venture. Until it was clear it wasn’t. Simon has too much to prove to everyone else, taking on so much work himself until I was relegated to various assistant duties.
“His way of forgiving his former friend?” I ask quietly.
“Something like that.” He bounces Maddy on his leg and she giggles. Abby used to love it too. Does he realize he hardly ever sits with them like he’s doing now? “It’s behind me. Anyway, I tried to call my mom to see if they could come out, but she and Dad are touring Europe for the month.”
As if his parents would lift a finger to help me. They might offer to take the girls on a world tour, but not if it benefited me at all. I don’t expect an offer from that end. They’ll stay away and hold out hope that Simon finds someone worthy of them.
“Do they ever get to see…” We don’t talk much about it around our girls. Living a thousand miles apart makes it hard to get close to their only cousin. Abby’s old enough to remember her cousin Chloe, and old enough to ask why she doesn’t get to see her at all anymore.
“Once in a while. Not like before.”
We’re separated by armrests, but I’m tempted to lean into him. To let my head drop on his shoulder. Then he’d put his arm around me, tell me it’ll all be all right, and I would believe him. Because he’s Simon.
But I don’t. “Do you mind if I go in Mom’s room now? I’d like to sit with Dad for a while before they kick us out.”
“Give me a call in the morning. I’ll just go back to my plan of working from home for a day or two.”
I don’t know what possesses me to say the next words. He’s offering to work from home. He says it like it’s not a big deal, but it’s huge. He hasn’t missed going into work for years. He didn’t even make it a day during the week he was supposed to work from home with the kids.
But my impulsive idea makes sense. Really.
Except it could undo months of moving forward and rediscovering myself. “Why don’t you just stay at the house tonight? I didn’t get a chance to pack the girls’ stuff.”
I swallow hard and wait for his answer. I’m an adult. I can make this offer and not let it get my hopes up. Likewise, if he declines, I can acknowledge that it doesn’t work for him and the reason is none of my business.
The way his jaw tightens as he slides his gaze toward me sends butterflies tumbling through my belly. I can do this. He would be a guest. The girls’ father. Staying in the house we had big dreams for. The house we thought we’d entertain our grandkids in—together.
The offer is logical, and not for my benefit. Not even for his. While he has a room for the girls and clothing at his place, he doesn’t have Maddy’s Pink Kitty, the stuffed cat with one eye, or Abby’s Flipper, the stuffed turtle from the Fargo Zoo. Those are more critical to the kids than clothing.
“As long as you’re okay with that,” he says, his voice a low rumble, like he thinks it might mess with him too.
No getting hopes up. It’s just one night. Two at the most. The cold, emotionless man who had sat across the table from me scribbling his signature on the divorce papers wouldn’t look at my offer as more than pure logistics.
I nod before I have the guts to say no. Doubts unfurl in my brain. Is asking him to stay at the house cowardly? Is it a sign that I can’t let go when I really should? We were married eight years. Two months of separation and seven months of divorce aren’t enough to get over that, but I can still be an adult.
The girls jump up and down and hug me. I break away. Simon still has a house key. He doesn’t need more instructions from me, and I’m afraid to witness that the idea of sleeping under the same roof again doesn’t affect him.
I’m not supposed to get my hopes up, but the thought that gives me strength as I walk to Mom’s hospital room is that Simon is coming home.
Chapter 3
Simon
I wake up with Abby sprawled on the bed beside me and Maddy pressed into my back like she’s determined to steamroll me off the bed. Good thing it’s still ingrained in me to sleep in a T-shirt and shorts, and that I had a small overnight bag with me in case I had to stay in New York.
I ease myself away from her and swing my legs down. Rubbing my eyes, I finish waking up while listening for Natalie.
Nothing.
I stagger out of the upstairs guest bedroom to the bathroom the room shares with the girls’ bedroom. The guest room was supposed to be Abby’s but they wanted to be roommates. I could’ve used one of the two spare bedrooms in the basement that the girls are too afraid to move into, but hated to be far from them when it’s just us in the house.
And it’d feel too much like I was nothing more than a guest.
A shower will help me feel human. I forgot what a crappy night’s sleep I often get living under the same roof as the girls. Between storms, growing pains, and just because, having one or both in bed with me is a common occurrence.
Does Natalie go through the day like a zombie? How easily I fell into assuming that they’d outgrown it when I know better. At my place, they share a bed and that helps more than sharing a room.
I yawn and flip on the light in the bathroom. Then I flip it back off. Natalie didn’t mention that she wasn’t the only one showering when she got called about her mom. The girls must’ve been taking one of their hurricane baths. Water had been drained out of the tub, but it was littered with toys, and clothing and towels covered the floor.
I go downstairs and across the house to the master bedroom, not bothering with the bathroom in the basement. If Natalie’s sleeping, I’ll suck it up and pick up the upstairs bathroom instead of letting her think she has another shower to clean downstairs.
The bedroom door is cracked open like normal. Well, my normal. From when I lived here. Walking through this house is so familiar it makes my fucking chest ache.
I push the thought away and peek inside. The bed’s not made, but I was the bed maker in the relationship. She didn’t come home.
I enter and shut the door behind me. As it clicks closed, the master bathroom door swings open and a very naked Natalie walks out with a towel wrapped around her head.
Too stunned to say anything, I stare. I can’t look away and I know I should. I have to. This is a violation of her privacy. But good God, she’s gloriously naked, and my eyesight sharpens like a hawk’s. The droplets of water spattered on her shoulders are demanding to be licked off. I’ve always enjoyed the curve of her back, but new muscles ripple under her soft skin. And those breasts that I know fit perfectly in my hands are gently swaying, mesmerizing.
She looks over and yelps, the sound reminding me to spin around. Bare feet slap on the bathroom floor and the cabinet door opens. She’s going to cover that sinful body.
What a shame.
“Sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I, uh…” I’m not though. I’m not sorry at all. I’m a thirsty man who’s been stuck in the desert with nothing but saltines for six months and she’s a single, perfect glass of water.
The faint stretch marks around her hips? I know which ones she got from Abby and the ones she blamed on Maddy. They’ve faded to white-ish silver, but she’d gotten them growing my babies. Putting me in a suit doesn’t erase my primal side.
“What are you doing in here?” She sounds calmer than she has a right to.
I would hold my hands up and turn around, but then she’ll see what she did to me. Normally, I wouldn’t care. But the last thing she probably wants is me tenting my shorts after I walked in on her—accidentally or not.
“The other bathroom was a mess so I thought I’d cheat and shower in here.”
Her sigh’s unmistakable. She’s tired. “That’s right. I’ll go clean it.”
“No.” I’m finally taking command of my erection. Her exhausted sigh did it. “I’ll get it. I’m defini
tely awake now.” I don’t move though. I’m back in the bedroom with my wife. Leaving was hard the first time and I don’t want to do it again. I have a question that’s the perfect delay. “Are you going to the hospital again?”
“Not yet. The doctors do rounds in the morning. I’ll relieve Dad before lunch. I wanted to get some of my training done.”
Training? “Oh, for your job.”
“Yes. It’s all online.”
“What kind of job?” She didn’t answer me before and she isn’t likely to while she’s wrapped in only a towel. But I hope she does.
“You can turn around, you know.”
I look up at the door and will her to drop the towel and invite me into bed and we’ll forget this whole divorce mess. But when I turn around, my hopes crash. She’s wrapped in a fluffy deep-blue robe that covers her from neck to chin. She’s adorable, but she showed more skin in her athletic clothes.
She twiddles her fingers when she answers. “I’m learning how to be a virtual assistant.”
“A virtual assistant,” I echo. I thought being my assistant was part of what drove her away.
She nods, shifting her feet. Her toenails are painted a mixture of red, yellow, and blue on each foot. Pedicure day with the girls. “I know a lot already, but I’m brushing up on the business side and learning the social media platforms that I’m not really active in. I hope to launch after the Fourth of July. I figure harried working parents will be desperate for an extra hand around the beginning of school.”
“Won’t you be one of them?”
“It won’t be as bad if I can work from home.” She sits on the bed. No invite is extended to me and that damn robe manages to stay closed.
“Do you need more money from me?” I ask gently.
Hurt flashes through her face, followed by indignation. “And I would do what all day? Redo my nails and walk the rounds at the mall with all the retirees? I need something for me. What happens when I turn sixty-five and I have a retirement fund that I didn’t start until I was in my forties?”
Eligible Ex-husband Page 2