The Boxer (Modern Love Book 2)

by Piper Rayne

  I round the corner, and the field of wildflowers comes into view, the colors shining and highlighted from the sunshine above. It’s beautiful just like Aaron said. I pull out my phone to take a picture when I hear giggling coming from the tree line not far from where I stand.

  Someone must be getting it on back here. I tiptoe back and snap a quick picture before I interrupt someone’s fun. Following the path back, I spot everyone climbing onto their horses. Violet is still secured along with one other horse. The handlers look at me, and I guess they don’t remember who I am because they signal to the other open horse.

  Aaron catches my eye and glances over my shoulder before he rolls his eyes almost to the back of his head. I glance over my shoulder to see Lucas walking back on the same path I just left, a pretty girl in front of him. The top two buttons of her shirt are unbuttoned, her lipstick is smeared, and pieces of her hair hang loosely out of her ponytail.

  My stomach lurches even though it shouldn’t. I have absolutely no claim over Lucas. In fact, there’s nothing between us. Even so, the mental images running through my mind of him and that girl still hurt.

  He looks over at me with that damn flirtatious smirk.

  Without returning it, I climb onto the horse that’s not mine and fall in line with the rest of the group.

  I don’t have the heart to turn around and see his reaction because it’ll mean witnessing the other girl behind him on his horse, her hands wrapped around his waist.

  I should be glad this happened. It proves exactly why a bad boy isn’t a good idea at all. If it hurts this much when I have no investment, what will happen when my heart joins the mix?

  8

  Two nights later I’m seated at my parents’ dining room table with my younger sister, Caterina, across from me. She’s looking more hippyish than usual today, pushing her bohemian style to the ultimate low.

  “Thrift store have another sale, Cat?” I bring my glass of red wine to my lips while she scowls at me.

  “I’d rather wear vintage than Louis Vuitton.” She forks her tofu and places it delicately in her mouth like we were trained at the Junior Manners Academy from two to fifteen.

  “You’re the only person I know who buys a bag of clothes for twenty dollars and hangs them in a closet the size of most people’s apartments. Way to stick it to the man, Cat.” I place my piece of beef wellington in my mouth, smirking the entire time.

  Caterina’s face reddens, but she’s trained better than to raise her voice or throw any sort of a tantrum at the table. The Santora girls are upstanding, well-mannered women who never cause a scene.

  “I heard Chase is dating again,” Cat sneers, her eyes narrowing across the table.

  The Santora girls are not above pushing one another to the brink, though.

  “Really?” I concentrate on my knife slicing the meat, imagining it’s Chase’s heart. Or his dick.

  “Yeah. Mallory said she saw him with Quinn.”

  My knife slips and screeches along the plate.

  “Quinn?” my mom asks, and I focus on my plate, unable to show Cat how much her news is affecting me.

  Quinn and I have been in competition our entire lives. We were the typical friends-to-enemies story once we hit high school. The end of our friendship was a pivotal moment in my life. Our sophomore year she went to boarding school after her parents divorced, but every holiday when she returned the comparisons between us would be brought up at the country club.

  My mom would boost me up and her mom her, which only made us hate each other more. If she wants my sloppy seconds, she can have the asshole.

  “Well, I’m sure Linda loves that Quinn is with a Webber.” I sneak a glance at her. She serenely places her fork and knife on her plate then reaches for her wine glass and downs a sizable gulp.

  There have been times I wondered if my mom wanted me to turn a blind eye to Chase’s wandering dick so that she could be related to the Webber family. I’m still not sure.

  “I’m done with the Webber name in this household. Find something else to discuss.” My dad’s authoritative tone straightens all our backs. “We’re having a guest for drinks and dessert.”

  “Oh, yes,” my mom says and raises her hand to get our butler Eldon’s attention. He comes over, bending over so my mom can whisper in his ear. He nods and then moves back into place.

  “Who?” I ask, glancing across to my sister, but she’s busy moving her vegetarian meal around her plate.

  “Michael Plotter.” My dad says the name and then concentrates on his food.

  “Who is Michael Plotter?” I ask, because the only people who come to our house for coffee and dessert are businesspeople or close members of our family, and since I’ve never heard of this Michael, it must be the former.

  “A fix-up for Tahlia?” Caterina’s eyes light up with amusement.

  My dad glances at her and then to me. “He’s a friend’s son. Graduated from Yale a couple of years ago. The company that was employing him can’t afford him anymore.”

  “And we can?” I ask.

  My dad shoots me a warning glare.

  Right before I found out what Chase was up to my dad told me business was declining. That like Caterina, a lot of people felt that sausage was too high in fat and too unhealthy now. The public wants turkey, tofu, or any vegan-style dish rather than our quality product. I guess I haven’t done my job and sought out answers to combat the problem since I’ve been too caught up in my own drama.

  “Hmm… fresh meat.” Caterina voices her unwanted commentary on the topic. “Maybe he can put Tahlia in her place.” Her lips slide the tofu off her fork before a condescending smile forms on her mouth.

  “It’s not like that.” My dad’s forehead creases as he cuts through the meat on his plate. “He’s going to go through our day-to-day financials and see where improvements can be made.”

  “Dad?” I wait to continue until he turns his head to look at me. “I think we could do this ourselves.”

  “No, Tahlia, we can’t. He’s highly recommended so give him a shot, okay?” He winks, and I lean back in my seat, my stomach knotting. A new guy, huh? Maybe the problems at work are bigger than my father has let on.

  I slide my plate away and cross my legs, contemplating how tonight will go. Do I love working for Santora Sausage? No. But it’s the family business my grandfather started, and I won’t abandon my dad. It’s not his fault he didn’t have boys. God knows Cat isn’t likely to follow in his footsteps. I’m all he’s got.

  Elton walks in, and our housekeeper Marge hurries over, clearing our dishes.

  “Mr. Santora, Michael Plotter is here.” He bows and my dad waves him in. I lift my glass and begin to drain my wine, knowing I’ll need it.

  “Wino,” Caterina says.

  “Tahlia, must you?” my mom chimes in. Chugging alcohol wasn’t part of etiquette class.

  Eldon sidesteps from the doorway, and when Michael Plotter walks into our dining room, I almost choke on my wine, a small squirt leaking from my mouth, drizzling down my black silk top. Taking my napkin, I discreetly try to blot the stain, but I catch his eyes on me.

  Caterina looks at him and then back to me and her eyes widen. “Yummy,” she mumbles.

  “Caterina, shh,” my mom whispers.

  Cat is right, though. Michael might as well have stepped out of GQ magazine. Hell, he might as well be one of those strippers from Down Under in Vegas that Lennon dragged me to last year. His chiseled jaw leads up to electrifying blue eyes, and his suit sits perfectly across his broad shoulders and trim waist. His entire aura is impeccable from his gelled hair down to his wingtip loafers, and I should be drooling.

  I suppose I technically did given the stain on my blouse, but it was because I was expecting some geeky kid my dad is throwing a bone to, but this man needs no bone. Still, the buzz that should feel like the fourth of July in my pants isn’t there, my cheeks don’t flush, my mouth doesn’t salivate. Nothing, nada, zilch.

  Nothing lik
e every time I’ve seen Lucas.

  The minute that thought comes into my head I push it away.

  Oh, my God, maybe my lady parts are broken from one disappointment after another.

  “Mike,” my dad says, rising from his chair to offer his hand.

  Caterina’s eyes are pinging between me and the man candy, like maybe a fix-up would be a good idea after all.

  “Good evening, Mr. Santora.” Mike shakes my father’s hand, and the shiny metal object on his wrist moves up and down. He’s the real deal. A Breitling watch probably worth the price of a new car fits snug on his wrist. I glance down at my disappointment of a vagina and still nothing.

  “Call me Bill.” My dad faces the table, and my mom straightens her back, holding out her hand. “This is my wife, Bree.”

  Mike slides swiftly to my mother’s side, taking her hand between both of his, staring her directly in the eye. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Santora.” He glimpses me from the corner of his eye, but his facial expression doesn’t change.

  My mom waves him off with her free hand and releases a small giggle. “Call me, Bree.” I swear she sounds like she just finished a spin class.

  “My older daughter, Tahlia,” my dad says and gestures to me, “and my younger, Caterina.”

  Mike eagerly turns and holds his hand out to Cat. She glances down and slides her thin hand into his palm. He concentrates on only her for the two seconds they’re greeting one another. Once their hands part, Cat practically faints back into her chair, and her eyes zero in on his ass while he rounds the table toward me and I have to work to suppress a giggle.

  This man sure knows how to give someone his sole attention and somehow, it’s not creepy. He holds his hand out to me, half bowing at the waist like I’m a princess or something. Yeah, right.

  “Pleasure,” he says, and his tongue snakes out to lick his lips.

  His hand covers mine, and I wait for it. The zing, the electricity, the butterflies…anything.

  My shoulders fall. Nothing.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say as though it’s any other business meeting. No stuttering, sputtering or word vomit. My heart rate is as steady as a lifelong marathon runner’s.

  His eyes zoom down to my chest and then back to my eyes before anyone else notices.

  “I’m hoping we get to work together.” He releases my hand, and I bring it to my lap.

  “Tahlia is much too busy. You’ll be working solely with me, Michael.” My dad speaks before I have a chance and that perma-smile Michael’s had on his mouth falters for a second before he lifts those corners back up.

  “Too bad.” He winks and sits next to me.

  He unhooks the button of his jacket, sliding into the chair with the confidence of a man who’s pulled that maneuver a million times before. It’s a practiced move I usually love in a man.

  Cat is practically drooling like a Saint Bernard over her alfalfa sprouts, but I’m cool as a cucumber in the refrigerator.

  I might as well adopt a cat because I’m ruined.

  9

  I walk up the pier, my eyes pinned on the yacht Single in SF has booked for the night. A tour of San Francisco Bay and a candlelight dinner are on tonight’s itinerary. My heels click on the concrete and my stomach rumbles with nausea because I would like nothing better than my couch, a romantic comedy on Netflix and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.

  When my phone dings in my purse, I stop by a lamp and pull it out of my clutch. I slide my thumb across the screen and immediately I know I have no choice but to persevere.

  Whit: If you need us, call.

  Me: You going to rent a row boat and save me?

  Lennon: You could be like Overboard and swim to the shore.

  Me: She was swimming toward Kurt Russell.

  Lennon: Fool. Did Kurt really think she’d give up all that money?

  Whit: It was romantic.

  Me: Money isn’t the be-all and end-all, Len.

  Lennon: Well, you’d know. I wouldn’t :P

  Whit: Good luck, Tahl. You got this, girl.

  Me: TTYT

  I put my phone back in my clutch and glance behind me to the line of taxis, knowing Whit and Lennon would have no idea if I bailed on the cruise. I could easily lie and tell them I went. But I’ve never lied to my friends, and I don’t plan on starting now. The devil on my shoulder says I’m an adult and what do I care what they think? If I don’t want to do it, I don’t do it. It’s simple.

  My gaze veers back to the large white boat as people start to line the front of the bow. A few guys stand behind their dates, wrapping their arms around their waist as their cheeks touch. The girls smile out at nothing, and their expressions say they’re in heaven.

  The knot in my stomach tightens like the rope attaching the yacht to the harbor.

  “Are you not coming?” A deep, familiar voice pulls me from the debate going on in my head.

  Lucas is standing there in black slacks and a black button-down shirt, the top two buttons undone. Do men realize how sexy that is? He’s slicked back his hair and rolled his sleeves up to his forearms. And as always, he’s delectable.

  I guess my lady parts are in good working order because it feels like someone just filled me with high-octane gasoline and I have to squeeze my thighs tightly together. The knot in my stomach loosens with a flutter.

  “Um.”

  “You were going to ditch, weren’t you?” His lips curl up at the corners, and he holds his arm out for me to take.

  “Your friend isn’t back yet?” I ask, sliding my arm through his.

  “Nope.” We stroll toward the ramp to the boat.

  “I’m sure you’re counting the days,” I say, but he’s quiet for a second.

  “I was,” he says softly.

  I sneak a look over at him, and he’s doing the same from the corner of his eye.

  “I signed an agreement.” He stops us outside the boat and detours us to the railing running alongside the water. His usual lighthearted demeanor is oddly serious and quiet. “I think you probably know I find you extremely attractive…” He reaches out and runs his thumb over my cheek. My skin heats under his thumb, and I divert my gaze to the row of boats swaying in the bay. He continues, “But I signed an agreement when I took over for my friend. I’m not allowed to fraternize with the clients. My friend could lose his job, and he’s going through so much, I can’t be the dick who does that to him.” His hand covers mine on the railing of the pier. “I’m sorry.”

  “You can’t fraternize?” I ask, confused. I don’t know why because I don’t know if I’d even want to date this guy, much less sleep with him. Okay, that’s a lie. A part of me—a large part—wouldn’t mind seeing how mind-blowing he is in bed, but date? I’m not looking for a replacement for Chase.

  “No. But as soon as my buddy returns, I’d love to take you out.”

  I stare at him long and hard, remembering the girl coming out of the field with bird’s nest hair and smeared make-up. “You didn’t seem to mind fraternizing on the horseback riding event.” I slide my hand from under his and cross my arms over my chest.

  Confusion mars his beautiful features before he says, “Liz?” He refers to her by name, and I swear bile rises in my throat.

  “I don’t know her name.”

  His head rears back and a boisterous laugh similar to the night at the boxing tournament roars from his throat. “That’s why you ran out of there before I could catch you?”

  Okay, my heart warms a little with the thought of him wanting to talk to me. Not that I’ll tell him that.

  “No.” I shake my head, unbelievably adamant. “I had an appointment.”

  He purses his lips and nods slowly. “That shatters my ego a bit, but I’ll believe you.”

  He’s so willing to trust me, I almost want to admit how I broke down in my car on the ride home. How I’ve lost the self-confidence that used to burn inside of me.

  “Just to clarify, I caught Liz with one of the ranchers and broke it up
. I actually followed you down the path, hoping to spend some time with you when I heard them.”

  He’s so honest it’s terrifying to me. Which is ludicrous, because after all I’ve been through, isn’t that what I should want?

  “I guess I had the wrong idea.”

  “I’m serious about wanting to take you out, Tahlia. You intrigue me.” He looks me up and down, a Cheshire smile on his lips by the time his green eyes meet mine. “I still don’t understand why you’re here. You don’t need to find a date in an Adventure Dating group.”

  I shrug, not willing to embarrass myself more by reminding him of what Lennon and Whit already announced at the boxing match—my fiancé cheated on me and the royalty of San Francisco wedding was canceled.

  “It’s complicated,” I answer, and he steps to my side, offering me his arm once more.

  “Hopefully my friend returns soon so I can uncomplicate you.” He smiles and my insides explode like sparklers just lit.

  I don’t say anything because what am I going to say? I’m not about to admit to him that he’s the only guy who’s excited me since my wedding was called off. That a mouth-watering specimen of a man stood before me a few nights ago, and did absolutely nothing for me. Lucas is the exact opposite of anyone I’ve ever wanted, but damn if I wouldn’t mind him showing me exactly how a woman should feel.

  We board the boat, and he walks us into the bar area. I recognize a lot of the people from the horseback riding outing. They’re all dressed to the nines—diamonds are glittering, watches are sparkling, and the mixture of perfume and cologne almost nauseates me.

  Aaron is standing next to the bar with one of the girls from last weekend and his eyes zoom in on Lucas’ and my entwined arms. He rolls his eyes and then focuses his attention on the girl again.

  “Sorry,” Lucas says and slides his arm out from mine, taking out his phone. “Have a great time, Tahlia. Just not too much.” He chuckles and those green eyes of his sparkle with amusement.

  I miss him the minute he’s gone. I watch his back as he moves between the people checking them in on his phone. The girls seem to make conversation with him longer than the guys and the point Aaron made to me about him picking a girl at every event surfaces again. Lucas could be lying to me about catching Liz and the rancher. It could have been him sleeping with her in the field of wildflowers, but my gut tells me he’s honest.