by Sara Celi
“What time?”
“We’ll meet in the lobby of The Breakers Resort at one. I already have a reservation.”
Not a question, or a request. An order.
“Absolutely,” I said. “Looking forward to it.”
After our conversation ended, I walked back into my bedroom and took a long look at Natalie. She made my bed better. Simple as that. I wanted nothing more than to wake up next to her—every day.
“Natalie.” I moved closer to the bed. “Time to wake up.”
She stirred, then stretched. “Hmm. Really?”
“I have to meet with my father, and I can’t get out of it,” I murmured. “He just called.”
“Oh, he did?” She rose up from the bed and rubbed sleep from her eyes. “What time is the meeting?”
“One.” I looked down at my Omega watch, which I hadn’t bothered to remove from my wrist the night before. “An hour forty-five or so from now. It sounded important.”
“I see.”
She got out of bed and searched the floor for her clothes, not bothering to hide her naked body. My breath clogged in my throat, and I took in the long, beautiful lines of her torso. When she saw me staring at her, a smile spread across her face. “What?”
“Just thinking about last night.” My gaze floated down to the apex of her thighs, then returned to her eyes. “And I’m not talking about the gala.”
“Hmm…last night was great, wasn’t it?” She strode toward me, letting her handful of clothing fall to her side. Our gazes locked, and stayed that way.
We’d made love three times. Each one was better than the last. And I couldn’t remember the last time I’d made love with anyone. For years, I’d only had sex with no emotion. But not anymore.
Natalie reached my side and traced her index finger down the center of my chest. “If you’re meeting your dad, you probably need to take a shower.”
“I do.” I didn’t tear my gaze away from her. Couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to. I liked that. Wanted more of that. Natalie held my attention more than any other woman I’d ever met.
She rose up on her tiptoes and her lips met mine. “Then let’s get you clean,” she said after she pecked me on my lips.
We moved farther into the bathroom, and then stepped into the glass-enclosed shower in the far corner of the room. She turned on the water and moved the nozzle to the lukewarm setting. My hands found the gentle curve of her behind, and I pressed up against her.
I was already hard. And ravenous. I lowered my lips to her ear. “Do you know how good you look?”
“How good?” She didn’t turn around. The steady pulse of the water filled my ears, drowning out everything. There was no one else. Nothing else.
There was only us.
“Good enough to eat,” I said, just before I allowed myself to nibble on the nape of her neck. She turned around at the touch of my lips, and her eyes were bright with desire.
“What are you waiting for, Luke? Eat me.”
“With pleasure,” I said.
I rolled into my father’s meeting two minutes late. I didn’t need the look on his face to tell me that I’d violated one of his cardinal business rules. He always said that being even a minute late showed disrespect.
“Don’t bother with an excuse,” he said as I walked through the tall, two-story doors at the entrance to The Breakers property. He stood in the center of the room next to a large mahogany table, covered with an ornate display of flowers that took up most of the surface. Behind him, the Florida sun heated up a sizeable courtyard that linked various wings to the hotel.
“It’s complicated,” I said. “I really am sorry that I’m late. But you’re the one who wanted a spur-of-the-moment appointment.”
“I only did that because I can’t get you to stay in New York for any decent length of time.” As usual, he spoke to me like I was one of the vice presidents in his company, and not like his son. “I have a table in the Circle. Are you eating?”
“Sure,” I said. “Sounds wonderful.”
As if there was any other way to answer him.
Sunday brunch at The Breakers featured a spread that would have delighted Louis XVII. Eight large buffet stations showcased a full breakfast, salads, made-to-order omelets, prime rib, an endless mimosa bar, a Bloody Mary station, Belgium waffles, sushi, caviar bar, and more. Tables of guests exclaimed over the decadent offerings and dressed-in-resort, chic outfits that blended perfectly with the gold, stucco, and Italian style of the resort.
And any other day, I would have enjoyed my time there. But not that day. That day, I barely noticed any of it. Instead, with every bite of my waffle and every sip of my coffee, I waited for the other shoe to drop. Dad didn’t have these kinds of meetings without having something big to discuss.
“As you know, I want to give the company to you,” he finally said over a refill of black coffee. “Despite your best efforts to shirk your responsibilities, I think you are the best fit for the business. You’re my eldest son. The only person who deserves to succeed me.”
“Thank you,” I said, keeping my voice even as I racked my brain, trying to think of where this conversation would lead next.
“And that’s why I’ve decided to meet you halfway.”
“If this is about that goddamn contract—”
“Forget the contract. I’ll have it made null and void when I get back to New York, as long as you agree to help me do what I’m about to propose.” He studied me for a beat, and I noticed how much older he appeared. The wrinkles around his eyes had grown deeper, and his sallow skin reminded me of chalk. Time hadn’t been on his side, and anyone who saw him would notice that. “For years, I’ve considered getting back into the South Florida market. I should have done it back in 2009, when no one was buying, but I still think the short-term potential down here isn’t over.” He cleared his throat. “Especially on the West Palm side of the Intracoastal.”
“What kind of potential?”
“Condos, mixed-use developments.” He waved his hand. “The kind of thing that appeals to millennials with a little bit of money. I’ve decided to invest—and invest heavily. I want you to manage this development, and after you’re done overseeing it, I’ll pass the rest of our assets to you.”
Stunned, I sat back in my chair. I hadn’t expected this. I hadn’t prepared for it. And I didn’t know if I really wanted it.
He took his napkin from his lap and backed his chair away from the table. “Are you finished eating?”
“Yes,” I croaked.
“Good. I want to show you in person what I’m talking about.”
“What?”
I looked up from the piece of computer paper, and my gaze met Helen’s. Her jaw tightened, and her eyes narrowed.
“No,” I said. “You’re joking.” I placed the printout on the counter of the yoga studio reception desk, which separated us. Then I took a long, hard breath. “This isn’t true.”
“I wish it wasn’t.” Helen folded her arms across her chest. “But I checked and then double checked—then checked again. It’s legit.”
“RCS is an LLC owned by Barrett Rothschild? And he’s the one who wants us to close?”
“Yep.” Helen elongated the word and slowly nodded her head. “Barrett Rothschild. Luke Rothschild’s father.”
No, no way. Not the father of the man I wanted to give my heart to—not him.
I must be having a nightmare.
“I can’t believe this.” My voice trembled as the reality of our situation clattered around in my head.
“Me either.” She picked up the paper once again and studied it as if she’d be able to will the facts outlined on it to change. “But here it is. Believe it.”
I let out a sigh and glanced around the studio that had become such a centerpiece of both our lives. How much time had we spent here? How many hours had we worked with one goal in mind? How much sweat? How much of my life?
And now, it all threatened to blow away. Jus
t. Like. That.
“I need to tell you something,” I said.
Aunt Helen folded the computer paper again and put in on the desk. “Oh? What’s that?”
I gulped. Knowing that what I said next wouldn’t make her very happy, I still needed to tell her the truth. I wanted to clear it all up between us. She deserved that.
“I’ve been seeing Luke for the last couple of weeks.”
“What?” Helen’s eyes widened. “As in, dating?”
“Yeah, people would call it that.”
I would have called it even more than that. I was falling for Luke—no, I’d fallen for Luke. Hard. Fast. And possibly, forever.
And that made what she’d just told me burn.
“So, you’re sleeping with him?”
I swallowed and didn’t offer a reply.
“Jesus, Natalie.” Helen braced herself against the reception desk. “When were you going to tell me this?”
“There—ugh…just hasn’t…I don’t…” There it came again, my nervous tic. I couldn’t find the words when I needed them. Damn it. “I just haven’t ever found the right time.”
“Never found the right time? Never found the right time? Are you serious? I’m your aunt. Your family. And you couldn’t find the right way to tell me?” Her voice grew louder with every sentence. “What is this? I thought we didn’t have any secrets.”
“We don’t, it’s just that—”
“Who helped you out when you couldn’t find a job after graduation? Who made sure you and your mom had extra money when you were growing up? Who was there, babysitting you while your mother worked nights? Me. Always me.” Her face flushed, and she took a deep breath. “Do you know how hard that was? I would come home from class at the University of Central Florida, barely have an hour to study, and then spend four nights a week watching you so that my sister could pay her mortgage and keep a roof over your head.”
“I know,” I whispered.
“You’re like a daughter to me, Natalie. I trust you—I trusted you.”
“It was just dating—” I said, but every word quivered on my lips. “Nothing.”
She regarded me for several long seconds. “No, I don’t think it is. I don’t think it’s ‘just dating’, is it?”
I bit my bottom lip. “I didn’t think you’d understand because…well, I know how it’s been the last of couple of months. You’ve taken things hard. And with all that’s happened, all the connections that the Rothschilds have to Wall Street, I just didn’t want to go there with you.”
“I can’t believe this,” Helen murmured.
“Everything is so high stakes with you these days. You think everything is a conspiracy.”
“No, I don’t.
“Yes, you do.” I sighed, then looked away from her and fixated on one of the racks of sweatshirts with our logo on them. Another reminder of the things we’d have to get rid of as fast as possible. “And I like Luke. A lot.” I shook my head. “Actually, I think I love him.”
A moment of silence passed between us.
“Listen, your love life is your business.” She covered her face with part of her right hand. “I just…when it comes to the yoga studio, I’m defensive. This is my baby.”
“I know.”
She rubbed her forehead. “What am I going to do now? Where do I go from here?”
“I could talk to him—to Luke.” When she looked up, my gaze met Helen’s again. “He could fix this.”
“You saw the plans. It’s already in the works.” She picked up the folded paper and waved it at me. “According to this, it’s going to be a signature project for the Rothschild family. They have millions of dollars tied up in this and it’s a huge statement for them.” She let out a rueful laugh. “Their reinvestment in the South Florida real estate market.”
“There has to be something that can be done. I don’t think he knew about this deal.”
“How could he not?” She regarded the paper again, then tossed it on a nearby bench. “This is the family business. Emphasis on the word ‘family.’”
“I don’t know, I just…” The memories of the last days with Luke blurred in my head. Maybe she had a point. I couldn’t be sure. “I don’t think he’d do something like that. I don’t think he’d buy the property and not tell me.”
Helen crossed her arms.
“I mean it.”
“But if you think about it, you barely know him, Natalie.”
She was right. I did barely know him. It had been—what? Two weeks? If that? Sure, I’d slept with him, and we’d shared a few great conversations, but that could mean nothing. And, god, what I’d let him do to me on the bridge…
“What did I tell you about the Rothschilds?” Helen placed her palms on the edge of the reception desk then leaned in to brace her body against it. “They are ruthless. In on everything. Behind everything.”
“That’s all just internet rumor.”
She huffed. “Hardly.”
“I thought he was nice,” I muttered, still caught up in my own shock. “And last night, he said he’d help us…”
She cocked her head. “Help us?”
“He said he’d pay off all my debts—help us with the closing, all of it. That if we needed money, he’d bail us out.”
“Because either way, he wins, right? Since his family owns the development, he’s not paying anyone anything.” Helen snorted. “He’s just paying himself.”
We both fell silent and I looked around at the studio again. We didn’t have classes that morning, and I gave God a silent “thank you” for that. I still needed time to process everything. And to talk to Luke. Was he done with his meeting, yet?
“We’re going to have to…” Her attention turned to something over my shoulder. “Oh, my god.”
“What?”
“Looks like your boyfriend is here.” Her voice dripped with disgust.
“He is?” I spun around in time to see a familiar BMW pull into the parking slot closest to the studio front door. His BMW. Luke behind the wheel. And the outline of a man who appeared to be his father in the passenger seat.
“Perfect timing,” I said under my breath. “Just perfect.”
“I don’t want him to come in here.” Helen’s voice sliced through the stale studio air. “Not right now.”
I glanced at her. “I don’t think we have a choice.”
Luke was already opening the car door.
I should have seen this coming. “Should” being the operative word. If I wanted to be honest, I should have seen a lot of things coming. A lot. But I didn’t. It was only when my father directed us into the shopping center parking lot that I realized the true scope of his plan.
“This is it?” I slowed the car as we signaled to enter the lot. “This is the construction site?”
He shrugged. “If you want to call it that. Twenty-five thousand square feet of dilapidated space. Perfect for a development like this.” He surveyed the property, then pointed at a few bare trees in a distant landscape divider. “We have interest from several national chains for a new-concept grocery store that I think we can place over there. Above it, we’ll sell about five floors of luxury apartments with a rooftop pool. I already have an architect designing a few water features…”
“Stop it.”
He recoiled. “Stop what?”
“You know what. This.” I slowed the car a little bit more, keeping Natalie and Helen’s yoga studio in my sights as the car drew closer to the open spots in front of the business. “We don’t need to do this.”
“Do what?”
I parked the car and turned off the engine. “Develop here. Take over a random shopping center.”
“Of course, we do. We need to make a statement in the South Florida market, and I can’t think of a better way to do it. Since you insist on living here, this can be your pet project. Consider it a statement of confidence about you and your…decisions.”
“But I—”
“Don’t inter
rupt me, son. Granted, this ‘random’ shopping center has seen far better days. Which is why we’re doing the city of West Palm Beach a favor. The whole area needs a new look, and together, we’re going to bring it.”
I regarded him for a breath, then turned back toward the studio in time to see Natalie striding through the front door. A large frown marred her beautiful face. Did she know what I knew? Did she realize?
I locked my gaze on hers. Fiery. Her eyes were balls of fire.
Yep, she did know, all right.
Shit.
“Oh,” my father said. “I see. That’s the woman you brought to the gala, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
He glanced from me, to her, and a back again. “She’s wearing a studio shirt, and she looks like an employee.” He sniffed. “Luke, does she work here?”
I set my jaw and didn’t answer.
“Luke, answer me.” He sighed. “Or maybe you don’t need to. I’m sure I can guess.”
“She’s a great person, Dad.” I turned to him. “And she makes me feel something that I haven’t felt in a long time. Something I didn’t even feel with Faye.”
He narrowed his eyes. “With a body like that, I can imagine she does.”
“Don’t talk about her like that!” I slammed the palm of my hand into the car steering wheel. “Do not. You don’t get to say things like that about her.”
“I’m going to overlook the fact that you conveniently left out important details about this woman, like where she works, when you introduced us last night.”
I couldn’t remember a time when my father had sounded so cold and unfeeling. He was dead inside—but I wasn’t. I had never been more alive, and it wasn’t because of the anger I felt about what he’d just said. It was because of the love I felt for her.
“You don’t even know her.” I gritted my teeth. “She’s a good person.”
“That may be, but I know enough to know that this woman isn’t right for you, son. She won’t be an asset to our family. Sometimes, you can tell that just by looking at a person.”
I grunted and stepped foot out of the car. I didn’t have time to think about him. I needed to focus on her. Needed to explain this to her. And I needed to figure a way out of this.