Then There Was You: New York Times Best Selling Author

by Contreras, Claire

  “Tessa Monte, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow as he ended the call.

  “She’s only here for two weeks and needed a job.”

  “And you, being the selfless man that you are, decided to give her one.” He tilted his face, no sign of emotion in his eyes, and looked at me for a moment too long. I tried not to wither under his stare. My dad had a way of looking at you that made you think he was jumbling through your deepest, darkest secrets. Probably because he had so many of his own.

  “Let’s not talk about selfless,” I responded, raising an eyebrow.

  “I never claimed to be selfless.”

  “Neither did I.”

  He shut his mouth and stared at me for a moment, seemingly thinking about what his next words would be. I loved seeing my father tongue-tied. His extramarital affairs would forever give me the upper hand in arguments because he was the one with two families, not me. He was the one who had been hiding an illegitimate child with his longtime secretary, the one my mother had thrown a lavish baby shower for. The one we all went to visit at the hospital after her sob story of the man who impregnated her bouncing when he found out about it. Disgust settled into the pit of my stomach.

  “I understand you’re still upset—”

  “I will always be upset. I’ll never forgive you for what you did to Mom.”

  “One day you will,” he said calmly. My eyes widened. Who was this man? Where was the man who stood up and lashed out when challenged?

  “I won’t.”

  “One day, you’ll see that not everything in life is black and white.”

  “And that gray area extends to the vows you made?” I asked. “If it had been Mom cheating with some man, having his child, would you expect me to be okay with it?”

  “Of course not.”

  “But it’s okay because you’re the man.”

  “No, son.” He exhaled, closing his eyes. “It’s never okay, but your mother and I have been over for ten years. We’ve been going through the motions, staying together for the sake of the company, for pretenses. Mari—”

  “Don’t say her name.” My jaw clenched. I swallowed thickly. I hated Mariah. I’d put entirely too much time into helping that woman, only to find out it had all been a fucking lie. That was what happened when a parent was unfaithful the way my father had been. It wasn’t only the wife who blamed herself, the children did too. What did we do to deserve this? Could we have been better and prevented it?

  “When you get married—”

  “I didn’t come here for a lecture on marriage and love, and if I had, you’d be the last person I listened to,” I spat.

  He shook his head, the expression in his eyes hardening. “Well, then, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not asking you to marry anyone for love.”

  “I don’t believe in love or marriage,” I said. “So, we’re safe on both accounts.”

  “In that case, don’t involve her more than she needs to be. Your mother always felt she was a bad choice for you, and now that we’re in this situation, if you do what you’re supposed to and marry someone who knows what’s expected and will abide by the contract, you should leave that girl out of it. If that person is Camryn or someone like that, she will make her life a living hell, and Tessa has been through enough these last few years.”

  “And you would know,” I said, though, my brain was still stuck on his words. My heart stirred uneasily. “Your mother hates her for you.”

  “I speak to both her parents regularly, so yes, I would know,” he said. “Those people are hurting.”

  “And suddenly you’re Pope fucking Francis.”

  He glared. “Don’t use that kind of language if you’re going to talk about the Pope.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot that you’ve found your faith again.” I put my hands up. “Please continue, I shouldn’t be friends with Tessa, shouldn’t give her a job, because you think what? I’m going to fuck her and hurt her, is that it?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “It’s what you did with Mariah, isn’t it? You gave her a job as your assistant, fucked her, and got her pregnant? Oh, but wait, I’m not married yet, so I don’t need to sit through this bullshit.”

  “This is a useless conversation to have with an immature child,” he muttered. “This is why I’d rather have your brother take over the company. At least he has his head on straight.”

  “You want him to take over the company so you can control him.” I jolted out of my chair and gripped the edge of the desk. “You know as well as I do that he’d let this company drown, but be my guest, maybe you should call him in here to discuss your business instead of me.”

  “Maybe I already have,” he said with a cool air that could freeze the poles.

  I pushed off the desk and left his office, not caring that we hadn’t actually discussed the day’s agenda as I slammed the door behind me. As I walked back to my own office down the hall, I caught a few wary eyes on me and knew they had heard me yelling.

  I didn’t care.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tessa

  I watched as Rowan stalked toward me with a look I knew well. He was pissed, his body language practically screaming for people not to talk to him, look at him, or think about him. I thanked the realtor and hung up the phone just as he walked through the door, then I swiveled my chair to face him as he rounded his desk and sank in his chair with a heavy sigh. I waited, studied the way his features went through the motions: pissed off, disbelief, pissed off again. Deciding to leave him alone to his sulking, I turned around, wishing I had access to the monologue bouncing around in his head. At the very least, it would be entertaining. Alistair Hawthorne had always been kind to my family and me, but he sucked at being a father, telling the guys they were unwanted and a mistake on more than one occasion. That their mother had tricked him into getting her pregnant – twice. It was ridiculous but I could see the light leave Sam’s eyes whenever he spoke about it. He hadn’t divulged much about his parents’ divorce, but I was sure some of the cloud that passed over Rowan’s face had something to do with that, though I couldn’t imagine why. It’s not like either one of them had ever seemed in love, or happy for that matter.

  I clicked the mouse and powered up the sleeping computer once more, checking out the realtor’s website. Why did realtors put their face on everything? I shook my head and clicked on his face. He looked like a supermodel, which could have been why he wanted to put his face on everything.

  “What’s so funny?”

  I glanced over my shoulder to Rowan. “Nothing. Just looking at your friend Enrique’s website. I think he has more pictures of himself than houses.”

  His lips twitched. “Did you speak to him?”

  “Yep. We set up a meeting. Thank you,” I said. I could tell he was still reeling from his conversation with his dad and wished I could say something to cheer him up, but I wasn’t sure what.

  “He’s going to go check the house out?” he asked, a bitter tone in his voice again.

  “Yep.”

  “At what time?”

  “Five thirty.”

  He gave a nod and went back to his computer. The door opened, and Sam popped his head in.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.” My smile widened at the sight of him.

  “You got plans for lunch?”

  “Not as of now.”

  “Meet me downstairs at twelve.”

  I gave him a thumbs-up and laughed at the moonwalk he did as he left. He was such a clown.

  “Cute,” Rowan said with a bite in his tone that made my attention whip toward him. He was leaning against his desk, legs casually crossed as he looked at me. I hadn’t even heard him move.

  “What is your problem?”

  “Nothing. Just enjoying the show. You and my brother.” He shook his head, full lips pursed as he pushed off the desk and walked over. My heart stalled, thinking he was coming over to me, but he just opened the file cabinet beside my desk. “So
fucking cute.”

  “You should try to at least be cordial with him.”

  “Yeah, there’s no chance of that happening now.” He smiled like a shark, slow, powerful, and without humor. My heart thumped against my chest at everything he wasn’t saying. He pulled out a file and shut the cabinet with a little rattle that made me jump.

  “He’s still your brother,” I whispered.

  “Yet, he knows no bounds.” He pressed his palm onto my desk and leaned closer to me, crowding me in a way that made my pulse skitter with the awareness of him. “For the record, I hate the way he looks at you. I hate the way he talks to you and does a little show for you, and I hate how entertained you are by all of it.”

  “Rowan.”

  “I hate it,” he breathed the words, his eyes dark and murky.

  I realized then that I wasn’t great at pretending at all. A part of me wanted to just flat-out tell him I’d lied. The other part of me screamed that it didn’t matter. It was safer for him to think I was with someone else, anyway. I forced my eyes away from his, looked at the computer, and changed the subject.

  “Is there anything you want me to help you with? What was the last secretary doing for you?”

  He was quiet as he took his seat again. The slap of the file hitting his desk filled the air before he finally answered my question. “She alternated between Instagram and Facebook posts, but what she was supposed to be doing was confirming meetings for my upcoming trips.”

  “Do you have a list?”

  “First drawer to your right. There are over five hundred companies on there, so I don’t expect you to call every single one, but any meeting you can set up would help. Just make sure to coordinate the dates and locations accordingly.”

  My eyes widened as I scanned the first page, and when I looked back up, I knew my mouth was hanging open. “How many places are you planning to visit?”

  “Well, I’ll start in London and then head to Paris. I want to try to go to Africa and some places in South America as well, but those will be separate trips.”

  I felt my brows hike up. “Are you dedicating your entire year to this?”

  “I guess so.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. The phone on his desk rang and interrupted our conversation, so I turned around and started going through the list and calling people while he worked. Between lunch with Sam and the work I had on my desk, the rest of the day flew by, and I thought maybe we could do this whole friendship slash work thing after all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “There’s an office party this Saturday,” Sam said.

  We were lying in the lawn chairs by my pool. I was tanning, he was reading. I wasn’t sure what. Dennis Lehane’s latest if I had to guess. I shifted onto my stomach to tan my back.

  “And you’re telling me this why?”

  “Because you’re part of the company right now and you should come.”

  I scoffed. “I’m only there for two weeks. That hardly makes me part of the company.”

  Besides, I still wasn’t over the idea that they were splitting it up or that Monte belonged to them. I wouldn’t say this to Sam, though, because I loved him and didn’t want to make him feel bad.

  “Fine,” he said. “I want you to go with me. Both of my parents will be there, and I have a feeling they’ll take the opportunity to fill everyone in on what’s happening.”

  “And you need me to hold your hand.”

  “It would be nice.”

  I frowned, turning onto my side and fixing my top so I didn’t flash him. “You’re serious.”

  “I am.” He glanced over the book in his hands. “If you really don’t want to go, it’s okay. I just figured you were probably free anyway.”

  “Is it super fancy?”

  “Not really. Cocktail attire. Little black dress and all that.” He grinned. It was so similar to his brother’s. A show-stopping grin, for sure, and Samson had a dimple to boot. I sat up.

  “Fine. I’ll go.”

  “You sound less than thrilled about this.”

  “Well, I don’t want to go, but you already called me a loser for not having plans, and now I feel like I need to hold your hand.”

  He snorted out another laugh and went back to his book, but I wasn’t done with the conversation yet.

  “Why don’t you already have a date to take?”

  “I have the party, and the girl I’m kind of seeing isn’t ready to meet my parents.”

  “Your mom’s a vulture. I wouldn’t introduce any girl to her.”

  He peeked over his paperback. “She got you that bad, huh?”

  I shrugged, fell onto my back again, and threw an arm over my eyes.

  “You know she has a twisted way of telling people she loves them, right?”

  “If that was her way of telling me she loved me, I can’t even imagine what hate must sound like spilling from her lips.”

  “Venomous.”

  “I bet she loves Camryn.” I smirked and then looked over at him, eyes wide. “Will she be there?”

  “I doubt it. I mean, she has no reason to go that I know of, but I don’t talk to my brother, remember?”

  “Why is that? You two used to be close.” It was something that we rarely discussed and, before I’d started talking to Rowan again, I felt weird asking. I was always walking the fine line between wanting to know everything Ro was up to and not wanting to know anything at all.

  “He thinks I’m in love with you and that I’m the reason you’ve been avoiding him for four years.”

  I let out a laugh and then sobered. “Wait, you’re serious?”

  “As a heart attack.”

  “Why would he . . .” I let my words hang. My heart pounded hard against my chest as Sam looked at me. Oh my god. Was he? I sat up quickly, gripping the edge of the chaise. “Are you?”

  He closed his paperback with a thump. Didn’t even bother marking the page. My heart plummeted. He couldn’t be. We were friends. Such good friends. If he felt that way toward me, it would ruin everything. It already had between Ro and me. He grabbed the edge of the chaise he was sitting on and dragged it with him until our knees were touching.

  “Sam,” I whispered, emotion gripping my throat and squeezing. I shook my head to will the emotion away. He shrugged.

  “Nope. Not in love with you.”

  I let out a laugh and slapped him. “You had me going.”

  “I mean, they say the way to know if you’re in love with someone is to kiss them,” he said, his lips forming a slow smile. “We can give it a go.”

  “I prefer not to,” I said, but his face was mere inches from mine when he moved forward. Finally, when he moved even closer, I held my breath, my fingers tightening on the edge of the chaise.

  “Fuck it. I’m going for it,” he whispered.

  I could have stopped him, but I didn’t, because how easy would it be to be in love with someone like Sam? Someone who would follow me around the world and take a job anywhere because he wasn’t married to this company or this city. My heart pounded even harder. He leaned in, his lips brushing mine lightly before fully pressing them against mine. I felt nothing. Even as our tongues touched and danced, I felt nothing. We broke apart quickly and looked at each other.

  His eyes searched mine for a beat. “You pulled away faster than people pull away in spin the bottle.”

  “I hate spin the bottle, and I didn’t feel a need to continue to kiss you,” I said, but my eyes were wide on his. “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing.” He shrugged. “It’s like kissing a sister or something. No offense.”

  I exhaled heavily. “Oh, thank God.”

  The backdoor slammed, making us both making us jolt away from each other, and we turned to look at it. Rowan stood, arms crossed, beside a man I recognized as Enrique the realtor. I shot to standing and grabbed my maxi, pulling it over myself to cover up my bikini.

  “That’s the realtor.”

  “Yeah, Enrique,” Sam said,
nodding as he stood.

  He grabbed his paperback and walked with me. With each step, I wondered how much of that they saw. Did Rowan see me kiss his brother? My stomach churned at the thought. A part of me wanted to be proud of it, but it just made me sick. My face was beet red by the time I stood close enough to make out both of their expressions. Enrique was smiling wide, hand out ready to greet me. Rowan’s expression could freeze the ecosystem. I focused on Enrique, shaking his hand in introduction.

  Sam spoke to him next, small talk I couldn’t even pay attention to because I was so focused on my sandaled feet. I wouldn’t dare look Rowan in the face. I felt his eyes on me, though, burning, questioning. Enrique and Rowan headed inside the house, and I nearly jumped when Sam grabbed my elbow.

  “I’ll see you later, gator,” he said.

  “Later, gator.”

  He walked away, saying his goodbyes to the guys as he went. When he got to the front door, he turned around and looked at me again. “Don’t forget about Saturday.”

  “I won’t.”

  I showed Enrique around, stood by while he took pictures, and spoke to him about the house. I fully intended to clear things up with Rowan. I wasn’t sure whether or not he’d seen me with Sam outside, but if he had, I wanted him to know there was nothing going on there. Halfway through the tour, Rowan’s phone rang, and with barely a goodbye, he was striding back through my front door. As I watched him leave, I vowed to tell him tomorrow at the office. Definitely tomorrow.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rowan had an early call with China, so Sam picked me up on his way to the office the following day. The truck was still being fixed, and I hadn’t even thought about what I would do if I had to replace it. In truth, I didn’t need it. If I took the apprenticeship in the city, I would use the subway. If I took it in Paris, I couldn’t ship a car anyway, so I had no use for one over there. Sam said he would fix the truck and leave it at Grandma Joan’s house as an option, which made sense since it had been my grandfather’s truck first. When we got to the office, Rowan’s car was already parked. My stomach dipped.