by Lisa Suzanne
Each of those things individually sounds difficult, but together, they feel insurmountable.
Yet I suddenly know in order to earn Vivian’s respect and for her to see me like a real prospect who can be a part of her future, they’re the exact things I have to do.
And it’s not even about just earning her respect. I need to do this for myself, too. I want to do this for myself. I want to be a better man, and I’ve never wanted that before. I’ve never cared enough and I’ve allowed myself to float through my entire life, relying on everyone around me to either help me clean up my messes or forgive me when I make them.
Vivian makes me want to be better...I just have no idea where to even start.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks.
“You.” I turn to look down at her, and a flash of surprise crosses her pretty features.
She raises both brows as a hand flies to her chest. “Me?”
I nod and decide to go for broke. “I was thinking about why you won’t give me a chance, and I think I figured it out.”
“Brian, I...” she pauses then redirects her words as she stops walking. “You said no funny business.”
I blow out a breath as I look over the water and then I turn to face her. “This isn’t funny business. I’m not going to kiss you even though I want to kiss you so goddamn bad my chest hurts. I’m fighting against myself because all I want to do is hold your hand as we walk along the beach even though you don’t want me to. I can’t pretend like I don’t have feelings for you when I do.”
“I never said I don’t want those things.” Her voice is sharp and her eyes are angry. “Because I do. God, I do. I said I can’t, and I need you to stop acting like this can happen when it can’t. It won’t.” Her angry eyes fill with tears, and her words are laden with passion as they hit me square in the chest.
It can’t and it won’t because she can’t be with someone who so easily lies and manipulates other people. It’s so clear to me now, and if I want the girl, I have to find a way to man up to be the man she deserves.
chapter thirty-three
She stalked away from me, and I let her. I watched her get her shoes up on the sidewalk and sit on a ledge while I stayed down on the beach and thought about what to do. She wants space, and I don’t...yet I want to respect her wishes.
I stay on the beach and stare out over the water until I get the text that our table is ready. When I walk back to my shoes to put them on, I find her still on the ledge. “You ready to eat?” I ask.
She nods. “I—I’m sorry, Brian,” she says.
I hold out hand to help her off the ledge. “Don’t be,” I say, and my voice sounds dejected even to me. “Let’s just put it on hold and talk about our plan for tomorrow.”
“I’d like that.”
We sit at our table, a cozy booth overlooking the water. It’s everything romantic I wanted for this night, but it just feels wasted.
I want to feel the same about every aspect of the time I’ve spent with Viv—but I can’t really believe it’s been a waste when she’s on her way to getting FDB back on track and I’ve started experiencing feelings I thought were forever dormant. If nothing else, meeting her and feeling something other than the same indifference and boredom I’ve felt for years has been worth it.
At least I know there’s possibilities now, even if I have to face the fact that those possibilities may not be with her.
We stare quietly out the window at our view, neither of us sure what to say anymore. When the waiter comes by and we order our drinks, she orders red wine, naturally, and I order whiskey...also naturally.
I steer the conversation toward the reason we’re here. “I’m ready for tomorrow’s meeting, but I’d like your opinion on something.”
She turns to me and raises a brow. “Really?”
I nod. “Of course. You have an obvious knack for what you do, and I’ve already seen the ways FDB is benefitting from having you around.”
Her mouth falls open just slightly, and before she has the chance to respond, our drinks arrive.
I sip slowly; she does not.
“What did you want my opinion on?” she asks once half her glass is gone. From the looks of things, she’s stocking up on liquid courage to make it through this meal with me.
“I just want to make sure my calculations are on track for what we’ll be charging Porter. I put the numbers in and I think they’re fair, but I’m curious to know whether you think I’m either over- or under-charging.”
“I’d be glad to take a look.”
“You’ve studied this particular client, right?” I ask.
She nods. “I have a ballpark figure in my head, and now you’ve got me curious as to what you wrote in the contract.”
I pull out my phone and tap around the screen until I get to the draft of the contract. I slide it over to her. The waiter stops by to take our order, and as soon as he leaves, she turns her attention back to my phone.
I watch as she scans the document, and when she gets to the section with the numbers, I watch as she nods.
She glances up at me. “Hm.”
I arch both brows. “What does that mean?”
“The ballpark number in my head? It’s exactly what you have on here.”
I breathe a sigh of relief at her approval, something I’ve never sought from a woman in business before, particularly not when it comes to how I run my company.
“It’s perfect, Brian.” She slides my phone back toward me. “It’s an immediate savings for Porter over the third-party in Germany, but it’s future-forward. It’s more money in your pocket as soon as the ink is dry. It’s a smart enough number to get him to sign but ambitious enough that you can hire a team for Dana without concern.”
“So no more hiring freeze?” I ask.
She laughs. “Provided Mr. Porter signs tomorrow, no more hiring freeze.”
I grin.
“I meant to tell you how impressed I was that you talked Jason out of hiring three employees,” she says.
I don’t expect for her words to hit me in the chest the way they do, but I feel a bolt of pride dart through me at the thought that she was impressed with something I did. I shrug nonchalantly. “It was nothing. I just stalled him.”
She signals our waiter for another glass of wine. “Well it worked, and I have to tell you, with the cuts we’ve made in just the past few weeks, the new contracts you’ve pulled in, and now bringing this third-party work to FDB...you’re heading toward a record-breaking year.”
“How are the books looking?” I ask.
“Between the money Mark gave you to cover payroll and everything I just mentioned, FDB will be back in black by the first of the month.” She looks proud as she says it, and she should be.
“The first of the month?” I can barely contain my surprise.
She nods and her lips tip up in a smile.
“Seriously? It took you less than a full month to get us back on track?”
She lifts a modest shoulder. “I waved my wand and worked my magic.”
“I’ll say.”
The waiter stops by with Viv’s drink, and she takes a bolstering sip. “You weren’t that far off, Brian. You just needed someone to step in and show you how to really run a company that has the potential to be extremely profitable. I just moved a few things around and made some suggestions. You’re the one who took the necessary actions.”
“God, I really could kiss you right now.”
Her eyes widen, and I backtrack.
“Professionally, of course.”
She rolls her eyes and drinks more wine. As her second glass turns into a third, something strange happens as she shovels forkfuls of spaghetti and meatballs into her delicate mouth and I watch over my own pasta dish.
She starts to loosen up.
She smiles more. She laughs more. She’s not drunk, exactly, but she’s also not so guarded.
“How long did you work with Ashmark?” I ask after we finish
eating, referring to my brother’s record label in some attempt to learn more about her.
“Just long enough to launch it and train some of the employees.”
“You’re a trainer, too?”
She nods. “I’ve dabbled in a little bit of everything.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
“I’ve been in business since I graduated college ten years ago, but I didn’t become known as The Fixer until a few years ago.” She puts air quotes around her nickname.
“What happened then?”
“I was a junior executive in the finance department at a major corporation, and it started tanking. I offered some advice in a meeting since it was my job to research finances, and the CEO took note. We tried some of my ideas out, and suddenly we weren’t tanking anymore. The CEO said I fixed the company.” She breaks for a sip of wine. “Someone mentioned it to the CEO of another company, and I was hired as an independent consultant outside of my normal work schedule. It sort of took off from there.”
“Is that when you became a workaholic?” I tease.
She chuckles. “I think I always had it in me. I’ve always been ambitious and I’ve always put work first. You either do or you don’t, you know?”
I nod because I totally get it. “Ever since I started FDB, I really believed I could never be in a relationship with a woman who didn’t get that. You can’t be committed to your job and be with someone who isn’t the same way. They’d never understand sometimes work has to come first.”
“Exactly! Some men just don’t get that, either, and they feel the need to always come first.” The way she says it with such wistfulness makes me wonder for a split second what sorts of relationships she’s been in and what sorts of men she’s dated.
It’s just another thing that makes me feel a little closer to her, yet it also makes me wonder if anything could ever really happen between us. Is it fair if we both always put our jobs above our relationships, or might that be the indicator of a successful path for us?
“I dated a girl once who hated that I always had to dart out for business trips.” I don’t mention the fact I’m talking about my brother’s wife...a woman I wasn’t really invested in at the time even though I did end up developing real feelings for her.
She huffs out a laugh. “Been there.”
“Yeah?” I ask.
She nods. “How long will you be gone this time?” Her voice is clearly a mimic of some dude, and I laugh at her impression.
“Why do you have to go again?” I mimic in response, and she laughs along with me, like she’s heard it all before.
The check comes, and I treat—not on FDB’s dime, but on my own. I still have some work to do to straighten out my own finances, but now that my company is back on track, my personal assets won’t be too far behind.
And I have the woman sitting across the table from me to thank for that.
“You want to walk on the beach again?” I ask once the bill is taken care of and we’re on our way out the door.
She glances toward the water with longing in her eyes, but when her eyes turn back to me, I sense her hesitation.
I decide not to give her a choice. “Come with me.” We walk a few blocks back to the hotel, stroll through the lobby, walk by the pool, and end up at the poolside bar. I order the same red wine she’s been drinking all night for her and get myself another whiskey.
She shakes her head. “I shouldn’t have another,” she says once the bartender heads off to fill our order.
“Shouldn’t implies you’re doing something wrong, and you’re not. You’re just having a drink with a coworker.”
“Is that all this is?” she asks softly. Her eyes tell me the story I’ve been waiting to read.
I look away first because I have to if I’m supposed to be respecting her wishes. “It’s whatever you want it to be.”
Our drinks arrive, and I raise mine to hers. “To a successful meeting with Porter tomorrow.”
She clinks her glass against mine and this time I’m the one drinking faster than I should. I can hold mine, though—I don’t know about her.
She nods toward a couple sitting at the other end of the bar. “Think they’re here on their honeymoon?” she asks.
Their heads are close together, and the man brushes his lips near the woman’s temple. He whispers something to her, and she visibly squirms in her chair. “Yeah. If not the actual honeymoon, then some sort of honeymoon phase. That state of bliss can’t be anything else.”
She laughs. “Have you ever been like that with a woman?”
I lift a shoulder, surprised at her question. “Just once,” I say as Kendra flashes through my mind. I’ve been like that with other women, I suppose—but not because it was truly what I wanted. It was part of some scheme or lie, some act I was either putting on to impress the woman or to show off to someone else. Not because I truly felt something or wanted to be there.
I don’t say any of that to Viv, though.
“What happened?” she asks.
I clear my throat. “Turns out she was using me to get to my brother.”
“Oh,” she says softly. “I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is. Or rather, was what it was. She broke my heart and I hated my brother for a long time because of it.”
“And then he hired me to boss you around.” She takes a lazy sip of her wine, clearly trying to nurse it slowly.
“Yeah, but a lot of other stuff went down between those events. It’s not like we both haven’t paid for our sins at this point,” I say absently.
“What does that mean?”
I take a bolstering sip of my whiskey. I didn’t think grabbing a drink before taking a walk on the beach would lead to deep confessions about my history. “Long story. Suffice it to say I was bent on revenge for a long time.”
“And how’d that pan out?” She takes another sip of wine, this one coming faster than the last.
“There’s two ways to look at it. On the one hand, here I am, single and committed to my company with my brother’s bankroll to fall back on when I need it. On the other hand, here I am with you by my side as the person my brother sent to fix what I’ve fucked up.” I take another sip of whiskey, this time to cover up my real expression as I think about the fact that my brother is the one who stepped in to save me when I couldn’t stop looking at it like a power play.
“You know what I think that means?” she asks.
I arch a curious brow.
“I think it means your brother loves you and whatever came between you is in the past where it belongs.” She nods resolutely at the end of her proclamation, and I smile.
“I think you’re right.”
We sip our drinks as we move onto lighter topics, and once both our glasses are empty, I stand. Viv scoots her stool out to stand, too, and when she does, she wavers a bit—maybe from the four glasses of wine. I reach out my arms to steady her, and once she gains her balance, I lead her over toward the sand.
We leave our shoes where the sidewalk leads to the beach and walk down toward the water. Viv dips her toes in first at the shallowest point where the water just barely reaches us, and I stand beside her as I allow the cool water to lap gently at my feet. We both look out over the moon’s reflection on the water, here together yet totally separate, and I wish I knew what was going through her head.
A bigger wave moves in, crashing against the shore in front of us, and we both take a step back so our pants don’t get wet. We walk down the beach a few steps, the waves crashing to our right as we stay just out of range.
Viv stumbles on a seashell or some seaweed or just the wine, I’m not sure, but I reach out to steady her like I did back by the bar. Somehow my arms end up wrapped around her waist as she clings to the fabric of my shirt against my chest.
My eyes fall down onto hers, and all I see is pent up need and desire as she gazes up at me. I pull her a little more tightly against me, and she clings harder to my shirt.
&nbs
p; I can’t help it.
It’s something about being here in Miami with her after a romantic dinner as the water rushes over our feet.
My mouth moves toward hers, but this time it doesn’t crash down. This time I move slowly. I press my lips to hers, soft and sweet just like the moment is for us, but all the passion between us is no match for me trying to be slow and careful with her.
She opens her mouth to mine, and her tongue brushes mine. She pulls harder on my shirt, her hands fists around the fabric, like if she pulls the shirt harder somehow our bodies will be closer. My hips move closer to hers automatically, like my dick is trying to find a way to get to her, and she bumps her hips back toward mine, like she wants it, too. I tighten my arms around her as she deepens our kiss, our mouths dancing sensually together as we stand in the cold ocean water. A wave rushes around us, and I don’t know if we’re moving or not and I don’t know if my pants are soaked now or not but I really don’t care.
Nothing could ruin this moment between us.
She’s finally giving in to what we’ve both wanted for weeks, even though we haven’t been ready to admit it at the same time.
She moans lightly into my mouth, and my dick hardens painfully. God, I want her. I’ve wanted her for a while now, but I’ve never had to work like this for a woman. I’ve always had the advantage of a famous brother or a worthy business or my charming good looks to get me by.
But with her, none of that seems to matter.
With her, it’s just me and what I have to offer, and suddenly I wonder whether I’m good enough for her.
The answer is no.
I’m not.
I’ll never be intelligent enough or attractive enough or rich enough. I’ll never be enough. But that doesn’t mean I can’t try anyway.
She finally unballs her fists and lets go of my shirt. She doesn’t push me away, but she does break the kiss. My arms are still wrapped around her, but she leans back and looks up at me.
“Dammit,” she whispers before she looks away, and it marks the first time I’ve heard an actual curse word fall from her lips.
“What?” I ask softly, the rush of water around us the only sound in the air between us besides our panting breath.