by Megyn Ward
My mother died on my birthday.
That’s what he told me. That’s what he confessed to me. I can suddenly understand how he came to the conclusion he did when he saw that I’d gone through his things. The loss of his mother destroyed him. I could tell, the moment he said the words. How close they were. How lost he’d been without her. That he’d shared it with me only to think I’d been playing him…
Suddenly, I can’t breathe. “I wish things had happened differently.” It’s as close as I can come to telling him about Noah without falling to my knees and confessing everything. Begging for forgiveness. Which is what I should be doing. I should be telling him. Trying to explain instead of lying.
He’s standing here, telling me the truth. The hard, uncomfortable truth and I’m letting him while I lie to his face.
“Me too.” He reaches up to trace his fingertips along the curve of my brow, the soft, gentle gesture at total odds with the wicked grin he’s giving me. “If you’ll let me, I’d like to show you just how much.”
“How do you propose to do that, Mr. Bright?” I say, prepared to reassert my point that we shouldn’t mix business with whatever it is that’s happening between us.
“Well, first, I’d like to feed you enough pizza rolls, ice cream and frozen burritos to ensure your compliance…” he leans into me, tipping his head, pressing his lips against my throat. My jaw. My cheek. My mouth, the feel of his against mine, instantly chasing away every argument and protest I’ve managed to scrape together about mixing sex with our potential business arrangement. “and then I’m going to be a gentleman, which goes against every instinct that I have, and take you to the Hawthorne—” He pushes closer, close enough to let me feel the hard length of him against my belly. “and then come home so I can take the longest, coldest shower ever recorded in human history.” He leans away from me just enough to look me in the eye. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about staying here, in which case I’ll find more satisfying ways to utilize your junk-food induced compliance.”
“Just make my pizza rolls,” I laugh, pushing him away before he can talk me into changing my mind. “I need to call my father and tap dance my way out of work tomorrow morning.”
Leaving him in the kitchen, I cross the expanse of the dark, empty penthouse toward the bank of windows overlooking the Empire State Building, searching for and finding my purse. It’s open, its contents strewn across the floor, next to my bra and panties. Scrambling into them, I find my cell phone and call Jane.
“Hey,” she says. In the background I can her muting the television. “How’s it going?”
“Well,” I say turning to lean against the window behind me. Across the apartment, I can see Tobias, still in nothing but boxers, dumping the box of pizza rolls onto the baking sheet Angus bought for the occasion. “I guess that depends on who you ask.”
“You slept with him.” There’s no judgment in her tone but hearing her say it out loud still stings.
“Yup.” I take a shaky breath. Let it out slow.
“I’m in New York. He wants me to stay so we can—”
“Tell him, Silver.” Again, no judgment, just a healthy dose of concern. “Right now. As soon as you hang up.”
I know she’s right. I know I should tell him about Noah. That I have to.
But I can’t.
Not tonight.
“I will,” I say. “When the time is right.” Even as I’m saying it, I know I’m just stalling. There is no right time. Not for something like this. “Is Lilah there? I know I said I’d be home earl—”
“Club Rat Barbie took off with the Disaster Twins about an hour ago—it’s just me, Noah and Judge Judy.” She laughs. “It’s okay. I’ll stay over, get Noah off to school and head to work. I might be a few minutes late but I think—”
“Thank you, Jane.” I don’t say it enough. I don’t tell her I appreciate her as much as I should.
“I love you and I love your kid. There’s nothing to thank me for.” She falls quiet for a moment. “Just… be careful.”
“I will be,” I say, even though I know I’m lying.
32
Tobias
I decide to drive her to the Hawthorne instead of calling Angus. I tell myself it’s because I need to be there to make sure that there’s no issue with letting her into my suite but I know the real reason.
I’m not ready to let her go.
Not yet.
Not even for a few hours.
Jesus.
If Jase could see me, he’d laugh his ass off right now. He’s always giving me shit for the way I approach the opposite sex.
Rules are for rugby, Tob—not women.
He’d never let me hear the end of it if he knew that not only did I bring Silver home—twice—that I’m currently driving her to the Hawthorne at her request while mentally trying to re-arrange my workload tomorrow so I can spend as much time with her as possible. I even found her a goddamned safety pin and helped her fix her dress.
“You know I can get my own room, right?” she says from the seat next to me when I pull up in front of the hotel. “All I have to do is call Lilah.”
“I keep a corporate suite,” I tell her, making it sound like the place is used for business purposes and not where I take the women I sleep with. Not that I’ve been using it. Lately, I’ve been so focused on work that I haven’t had time for anything else. “My office building is across the street.” I point at the window, at the glass and concrete skyscraper that houses my corporate offices before getting out of the car and handing the valet my keys. When she gives me a questioning look over the roof of the car, I smile. “I have to tell the concierge it’s being used for the night.”
That’s a lie. I don’t have to tell the concierge anything. I pay through the nose every month for the privilege of coming and going as I please. It’s just an excuse to spend a few more minutes with her.
Pressing my hand to the small of her back, I walk her into the lobby, stopping at the front desk long enough to tell a confused concierge that my suite will be occupied for the evening. “Very good, sir,” he says, flicking a quick glance at the shopping bag in Silver’s hand before refocusing on me, the tiniest of smirks on his face. “Will there be—”
“Thank you,” I say, steering Silver toward the elevator. As soon as the doors close, I look at her. “I’ve got a 7AM breakfast meeting to hammer out a few things with a visiting Japanese conglomerate and a 9AM video-conference with my LA office but I think I can move my—”
“It’s 2AM,” she says, looking at me like she’s running the numbers in her head. Finally she frowns at me while the elevator stops and the doors slide open. “You should’ve told me you needed to be up early, I would’ve—”
“Agreed to stay at my place?”
She steps into the corridor, shaking her head. “Insisted that Angus take me to the train station hours ago.”
“Which is why I didn’t tell you,” I say in a perfectly reasonable tone, leading her down the corridor to my suite.
“By the time you get back to your place you’ll be lucky to get any sleep at all.”
I don’t tell her I have no intention of going home. As soon as I leave her here, I’ll head across the street and get a jump on the day so I can clear my schedule as soon as possible. “You think I became the billionaire CEO of a Fortune 500 company at the age of twenty-five by sleeping?” I stop in front of my door and slide the keycard through the lock while laughing at the way she’s looking at me. “It’s okay, Silver.” I open the door and hand her the card. “I’m—”
“Stay.”
I think about sleeping next to her. Remember what it was like to feel her soft, even breath on my neck. Her hand curled up on my chest, the other tucked under her chin. Her tumble of long dark hair, splayed across my stomach.
“Are you sure?” I say because I am. I know what’s going to happen if I walk through that door and I want to make sure she knows it too.
“No.” She shakes
her head, her wide gray eyes searching my face. “But I want you to stay anyway.”
33
Silver
I wake up to another note on the nightstand.
Silver –
I’m across the street. I left your name with the security guard at the front desk. Just tell him who you are and he’ll tell you where to go. My assistant’s name is Lara. She’s expecting you. Take your time…
T.
Almost immediately the hotel phone on the nightstand starts to ring.
“Hello?”
“Good morning.” A chipper, bright voice practically assaults me through the receiver. “This is your scheduled, 8AM wake-up call.”
“Thank you,” I say, even though I didn’t schedule anything. Maybe Tobias did, worried I’d sleep the day away. “I’m awake.”
“Excellent,” she says. “Have a great day.”
I hang up and lay back, rereading the note before letting my hand fall to my chest. Marginally better than the last one but still not the wake-up I was hoping for. Thinking about last night, I feel an odd mixture of shame and arousal. We barely got the door to his suite shut before we were tearing each other’s clothes off again. Before he picked me up and carried me to bed where he made love to me for hours.
Made love.
It’s a silly, old-fashioned sentiment. Men like Tobias don’t make love. They take what they want and move on.
Still, I let myself have the memory. Let myself keep it. Re-shape it. Remember it the way I want to and not the way it really happened.
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 corperate 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—”