by Blue Saffire
Because I’m going to shower and get dressed. I’m going to walk across the street and give the security guard at the front desk my name and he’s going to send me up an elevator to Tobias’s office. I’m going to meet Lara, his assistant, and she’s going to take me to his office.
And then I’m going to tell him about Noah.
I don’t know how, exactly. I don’t have a plan or a speech prepared. What I do know is that Jane is right. I need to tell him now, before I allow myself to sink any deeper. Before things get any more complicated.
Sitting up, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stare at the note in my hand until the words start to blur.
He’ll think I’m like those women he told me about. Call his army of lawyers. Demand a DNA test. He’ll ask me what I want from him. What I expect him to give me. He won’t believe me when I tell him nothing. He’ll think I got pregnant on purpose. That Noah is a tool. That I’m using him like a weapon to rob him.
He won’t love him.
Want him.
Maybe not. Maybe he won’t react the way you think. Maybe he’ll understand. Maybe he’ll want Noah. Maybe—
My phone rattles on the nightstand, snapping me out of my downward spiral, Jane’s name flashing, a request to video chat.
“Hold on,” I say after jabbing at the screen to accept the call. Shrugging into the robe Tobias must’ve left for me on the foot of the bed, I tie it closed before picking up my phone. “Hey, Monkey-face.” I grin at my phone screen. “Are you mad at me?”
“I was,” Noah says, his face so close to Jane’s cell phone screen that all I can see is one wide gray eye and a nostril. “But Jane made me chocolate chip pancakes and bacon for breakfast and Patrick let me press all the buttons on the elevator on our way down this morning, so I’m not mad anymore.”
I can imagine Patrick holding Noah up in the elevator so he can push every button on the panel. I told him that since Patrick owns the building, he’s the only one who can give him permission to do it, so of course every time we happen to catch the elevator at the same time, he asks. Patrick never tells him no which makes him Noah’s favorite person.
“Bacon, Patrick and buttons?” I say, feeling my chest loosen almost instantly. “Sounds like you’ve had a perfect morning.”
“Not really. You weren’t here.” Jane says something in the background and Noah pulls the phone back so I can see his face. He’s in his car seat. She must be taking him to school. “When are you coming home?”
“I’ll be home for dinner,” I tell him. “You, me and Papa—just like always.” We eat dinner at the restaurant every night, before dinner service. After dinner, Jane picks him up on her way home from work and takes him home for me. Like I said, I’d be lost without her.
Thinking of food, my stomach rumbles. Looking for a room service menu, I open the nightstand and feel my heart sputter and stall in my chest.
Condoms.
A tube of expensive, floral-scented lotion.
A large diamond stud without a mate.
“Mom, Jane says I have to hang up now.” Noah’s voice reaches out, derailing my train of thought.
“Okay,” I say, surprised by how normal my voice sounds. “I love you, Monkey-face. Have a good day at school.”
“I love you too mom.” He presses his lips to the screen in a sloppy, four-year-old kiss. “Jane says she’ll call you later.”
And then he’s gone.
I shut the drawer and stand, slipping my phone into the pocket of the robe I’m wearing.
It’s a cooperate suite. That’s what Tobias said. That means he’s not the only one who uses it. Those things could belong to anyone. Anyone could’ve left them behind.
Telling myself I’ll grab a couple coffees and some pastries on my way to Tobias’s office, I forget room service. Carrying the shopping bag Angus brought me last night into the bathroom, I see I needn’t bothered. Everything I could possibly need is already in here. The place is practically stuffed with every high-end, spa-quality shampoo, bubble bath and moisturizer you could ever want.
Thirty minutes later I’m showered and dressed in the clothes Angus bought for me. I have to admit, the man has great taste. Dark, slim fit jeans. Tailored white button-down. Navy cashmere sweater. Soft charcoal leather booties. Matching La Perla bra and panty set. There’s even a black leather LOEWE sling bag to pull it all together.
I just finished blow drying my hair when I catch the tail-end of someone knocking on the door. Remembering that Tobias gave me the keycard last night, I hurry to the door and open it, expecting to see him on the other side.
“Good morning, ma’am,” a bellman barely older than Noah says with a smile. “I have your breakfast order.”
Breakfast?
I stand there, staring at him and the cart full of food in front of him for a few moments before I find my voice. “I didn’t order room service,” I finally say, shaking my head. “I think maybe you have—”
“It’s a standing order, ma’am,” he says tipping his head just enough to let me know I’m in his way. Because I don’t know what else to do, I move to the side to let him pass through the open doorway.
“Standing order?” I stay where I am, door open, watching as he sets the wheel lock on his cart and starts setting covered dishes and plates on the dining room table by the window.
“Yes ma’am,” he says without bothering to look at me. “An 8AM wake-up call, followed by 9AM breakfast service is standard when Mr. Bright has…” Finally he looks up at me, his face bright red. “guests.”
Guests.
“Just call down to the front desk when you’re ready to leave,” he says, setting a coffee pot and fresh fruit plate on the table before straightening. “We have a car on standby, ready to take you wherever you wish to go.”
“Part of the standing order?” I say, squeezing the question out around the lump in my throat.
“Yes ma’am.” He gives me a quick smile before unlocking his cart. “Enjoy your breakfast,” he says, passing through the door I’ve been holding open.
“Thank you,” I say, letting the door fall shut behind him.
This isn’t a cooperate suite.
It’s where Tobias brings the women he sleeps with.
And suddenly, it’s the last place I want to be.
34
Tobias
It’s damn near noon and Silver still hasn’t shown up. Multiple calls to the suite have gone unanswered—including the one I’m currently making.
“Sir,” Lara’s voice comes through the intercom, “There’s still no answer,” she says like I’m incapable of hearing the phone’s unanswered ringing with my own ears. “Would you like me to—”
“Hang up,” I say, jabbing my finger at the intercom button, killing the tail end of her sentence before sitting back in my chair.
Where the hell is she?
Before I can give in to the urge to jump up and head across the street to look for her myself, Lara buzzes my intercom again.
“Mr. Bright—”
She’s here.
Relief and anticipation hit me like a truck.
“Mr. Bright is here to see you.”
Fuck.
Not Silver and there’s only one other Mr. Bright she could be referring to.
Jase.
Neither Gray nor Logan have ever stepped foot in my cooperate offices. Logan on principle and Gray… well, because Gray could give a good goddamn about what goes on in my ivory tower.
I hit the intercom button. “Send him in,” I say, even though Jase is the last person I want to see.
“Yes, sir.”
A few moments later the interior door to my office opens and my brother waltzes in. “What the hell, Tob?” he says, crossing the wide expanse of plush carpet between the door and my desk. “You canceled last night’s dinner with Senator Bryant.” He throws himself into one of the wide leather club chairs across from me. “Do you know how hard it was to get his people to—”
>
“I had something more important to do,” I say, not even bothering to look up from the stack of files on my desk.
“Yeah?” I don’t have to look at him to know he’s laughing at me. “Logan told me all about her. Davino Fiorella’s daughter?”
“It was a business dinner,” I say. “We’re investing in—”
“Yup, he told me that too,” Jase says with a grin. “She hot?”
“Excuse me?” I say, trying to remember that this is Jase. My brother. Not some guy in a nightclub who needs his skull cracked open.
“She is.” His grin widens. “Can I have her when you’re finished with her?”
It’s not a strange question. Not for Jase. We’ve shared women before, but before I know what I’m doing, I bolt out of my seat to tower over him. “You’ll stay away from her—got it?”
“Holy fuck.” Now his mouth falls open, gaping at me. “It’s her, isn’t it? It’s her. The—”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Stepping away from my desk, I head toward the sideboard where I keep a decanter of Dalmore 64. It’s too early for a drink but if I’m going to have to deal with Jase, I’m going to need it.
“Bullshit you don’t,” Jase counters, watching me like he’s afraid I might have rabies. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. The woman. The one who got you all fucked up, a few years back.”
I never told anyone about Silver. What happened that night. The morning after. But the fact that Jase was able to put it together isn’t that hard to believe. Growing up in Brighton, you develop survival instincts. Your senses sharpen. You see things other people can’t. Maybe don’t want to. Still I feel the need to lie through my teeth.
“There’s been a lot of women.” I lift the decanter and pull the stopper to pour myself a double. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Yeah. There’s been a lot of women—” He nods in agreement. “but only one that took you out of the game for a year and a half.”
He’s right. After Silver, what I thought I knew about her, I stopped trusting my instincts. At least that’s what I told myself. Looking back, I think I just didn’t want anyone else.
Not after having her.
Even after I got back into the swing of things, my sex life has been considerably slower than it was before Silver. There have only been a handful of women since that night and none of them have lasted more than a week or two before I’m clawing for the escape hatch.
I toss my drink back, barely feeling the burn against the gnawing hole in my gut. “Is there a reason you’re in here and not in your own goddamned office?” I growl, turning to glare at him.
“Yeah,” he says, totally unconcerned with the fact that I clearly want to murder him. “I wanted you to know that I met with the Senator last night for drinks. It’s all good—” He stands and re-button his suit jacket while giving me an angelic smile. “we’re in.”
For all his bullshit, there’s a reason Jase is my second. The guy I can count on. This is it. We’ve been chasing this government contract for nearly a year. Hand-feeding politicians and massaging city officials. Last night was the culmination of months’ worth of work and he saved my ass.
“Thank you,” I say because he deserves to hear it.
“You want to thank me?” he says, wagging his eyebrows at me. “Tell me what she looks like.”
I laugh, shake my head. “Still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar.” Jase shakes his head, laughing at me on his way out the door.
As soon as I’m sure he’s gone, I pull on my jacket and follow him out.
“Cancel my next block of appointments,” I say to Lara, on my way to my private elevator.
“Shall I re-route your calls to your cell, Mr. Bright?” she says, raising her voice slightly as I move past her without stopping.
“No.” I press the button and the elevator door slides open almost instantly. “I’m taking the rest of the day off.”
* * *
Silver’s gone.
I’m standing in the middle of my hotel suite’s living room, looking around, trying to figure out what happened.
Where she went.
What went wrong.
Breakfast sits on the table by the window, stone cold and completely untouched. I imagine room service delivering the standing order. Silver’s confusion. She would’ve asked questions and they would’ve explained because I’ve never given them instructions not to.
Because before Silver, I’ve never cared about how the women I’ve brought here have felt about knowing they’re not special. That the opulent suite and car service isn’t about them. It’s just standard operating procedure.
Shit.
I leave the living room, pushing my way through the double doors that lead to the bedroom, knowing what I’ll find before I even look. The clothes I had Angus buy for her last night are folded neatly on the bed. On top of them is a note.
Tobias –
Thank you for your offer of investment in our restaurant but I’ve decided to move in a different direction. Good luck in all your future endeavors.
S.
On top of the note is the bracelet I gave her. Seeing it there tells me everything I need to know. This isn’t some trick, some ploy to get me to chase her.
Silver is gone and she isn’t coming back.
35
Silver
“Silver, there’s a man here to see you.”
I look up to see Jean Luc, my assistant, poking his head through the open kitchen door. In the background, I can hear the ringing of silverware and the chime of crystal as my army of wait staff and busboys set thirty-six tables for dinner service.
“Thank you, Jean Luc,” I say, wiping my mouth before setting my napkin next to my plate. “Send him in.”
I don’t ask who it is.
I already know.
It’s Tobias.
I knew he’d follow me. That the note turning down his offer of investment would go ignored. That the bracelet I left behind would demand an explanation.
Men like Tobias aren’t used to being told no but I’d hope that if I wounded his pride enough it would keep him away.
At least until I was ready to face him.
I’d hoped he wouldn’t make me do this here, in front of my father. In front of Noah. I took the train home while Tobias has a fleet of Lears, lined up and waiting to take him wherever he wants to go, at a moments’ notice. To be honest, I’m a little surprised he wasn’t here waiting for me when I got to the restaurant.
Lifting my glass of wine, I take a bracing sip before turning toward my father. “I’ll ask you not to say anything until he leaves,” I say, offering him a reassuring smile. “I need you to trust me. I’ll explain everything, but not until he’s gone.”
My father, who’s been watching me since Jean Luc made his announcement, nods his head but he doesn’t look convinced.
“Promise me, Dad.”
“I promise,” he says, grimacing slightly, like the words taste bad in his mouth. “Who—”
Before he can ask, Tobias appears in the doorway. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans and a dark-colored, crew-neck sweater under a dark-leather jacket. His expression caught somewhere between anger and relief, he looks beautiful. A little dangerous.
He looks like the man I met on my birthday at a nightclub, five years ago—nothing like the buttoned-up billionaire I met yesterday, not more than a dozen yards away.
He’s staring straight at me, chest heaving slightly, like he’s having a hard time just standing there. Like he’s trying to convince himself to keep his distance.
He has my bracelet in his hand.
“Mr. Bright,” my father’s voice rings out, his promise to stay out of things forgotten as soon as he made it. “We weren’t expecting you but I think we have room for one more. I’d love to hear about the potential locations for the restaurant you and Silver—”
“I’m afraid your da
ughter left before we had a chance to scout locations, Chef,” he says as he approaches the table, his dark blue gaze narrowed on my face. “As a matter of fact, she’s informed me that she’s turning down my offer to invest altogether.”
“Silver?” My father turns to look at me. I didn’t tell him that. When he asked me how things went in New York, I told him fine.
“Dad, Mr. Bright and I have a previous relationship,” I say, fighting the flush that’s trying to push its way into my cheeks. “In light of that, I think it would be inappropriate to take his money.”
“Previous—” My father’s gaze sharpens considerably.
“What Silver is trying to tell you is that we met in a nightclub five years ago.” He’s talking to my father but he still hasn’t looked away from me. “While I’ll spare you the details, I will tell you that I was an unbearable prick the morning after, and not a day has gone by since then that I haven’t regretted the things I did, on about a dozen different levels.”
“Silver?” My father’s tone is low, his voice soft. I can hear it in his voice. I know what he’s asking me. That he deserves an answer but I can’t give it. Not yet. Not with Noah sitting beside me, listening to every word being said.
“You promised, Dad,” I say without looking at him before addressing the man standing in front of me. “Tobias—”
“I haven’t used that suite in six months,” he says because he still thinks that’s what this is about. He hasn’t even noticed Noah, half-hidden by the turn of my shoulders. “And even then, less than a handful of times since the night I met you.” He steps closer to lay my bracelet on the table between us. “I told myself it was because after what happened, what I believed about you, I didn’t trust myself. I made mistakes. Opened up to you. Let you get too close. That I got lucky. Dodged a bullet when it came to you.” He swallows hard, his gaze trained on my face. “But that’s not why—not even close. The reason is—”
“Stop.” I hold up my hand, shaking my head, panic seizing me so hard and fast I can feel my heart lodging itself in my throat. “Please, I can’t let you—”