“Yeah. She said no.”
“Where’s that overly healthy ego of yours? You’re letting one no scare you off?”
“Women like me. I like women who like me. That’s how I tend to choose my dates . . . the ones who say yes. I don’t know what rules you play by, but no means no. Right?”
Asher sighed. “Always. With sex. There’s a gray area when it comes to asking a woman out. If every man gave up the first time a woman shot him down, there’d be a lot fewer married people in the world. Do you think Emily liked me at first? Hell, she thought I’d burned her museum down. And look at us now. Do you want this woman or not?”
I think I do.
This is all going a little fast for me.
There was also a lot to unravel in what Asher had shared. “You burned her museum down?”
“No, but she thought I had. My whole family did. Honestly, for a while there, I thought it might have been the work of one of my guys but luckily it was an electrical fire.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Asher, but your advice won’t work for me.”
“Evidently. You’re definitely not a hammer.”
Nor do I want to be. “On that we can agree. Thanks, Asher. I mean it. It was nice of you to get this involved.”
Asher was quiet a moment, then said, “I’d like to see this work out for you. You’re a good guy.”
That did put a smile on Connor’s face. “So are you, Asher. Say hi to Big Man for me and Emily too.”
“Will do. On that note, I should get back to my meeting. You know how antsy prime ministers can be.”
“Oh, yes,” Connor said, although he really had no idea.
After the call ended he called Clay. “Looks like I won’t need your jet. She said no to Venice.”
“Really? I like her even more now.”
“Asher said the same thing. I don’t know if I want to be rich. It makes everything so complicated.”
“This isn’t complicated at all. Where you went wrong was by starting with Asher’s plan and not trusting your fairy godfather, Clay.”
That he could describe himself that way in a serious tone was amusing as hell. “I did accept your offer of the jet.”
“Yes, but if this woman is as wonderful as you say she is . . . she deserves better than Asher’s smash and grab technique.”
“There was no mention of smashing or grabbing.”
“It’s an expression. I don’t even have to ask you what he told you to say. I can guess. Something Neanderthalish. That never works with the intelligent ones. They need to be wooed. If you really want this woman to want you, you have to make her think you’re a challenge.”
“Play hard to get? Isn’t that advice women get?”
“Do you want to land this one or not?”
“That’s the thing, Clay. I like her, but—” He was about to say he had no idea if he wanted to land her, not if that meant marriage.
“Didn’t you say women get bored with you and move on because you’re too nice?”
“I didn’t say it like that.”
“But that’s the essence of it, isn’t it? You can pull them in with your looks and personality, but then you make it too easy for them and they move on. When it comes to women, you’re a puppy, Connor. Women don’t want that. Sure they might use you as a mood lifter after they break up with another guy, but unless you challenge them, you’ll never be the one they choose to stay with.”
Put like that, he could see a few areas where he could do better when it came to women. Sex was great, but if one more woman started a breakup conversation with, “You’re a nice guy, Connor, but—” he’d throw up in his mouth.
Was he destined to marry Angelina? Who the hell knew? But suddenly she was his Mount Rushmore. She was everything he liked in a woman. Could he get her not only into his bed but to want to stay there?
Could I be a challenge?
“What do you suggest?”
“You have to spend time with her without fawning all over her. I have an idea. Yep, it would work. They didn’t give me this fairy godfather wand for nothing. You, Connor, are about to be the head of my Gold Star initiative. I’ll start moving it over to your building today.”
“Your what?”
“It’s a branch of my Landon Foundation. It provides support services for families of fallen soldiers.”
“Sounds amazing, but I don’t know anything about running something like that.”
“You don’t have to. It practically runs itself. You’ll just be the token famous face of it.”
“I don’t know.” It sounded like a lie and his life was already overflowing with those.
“Hey, when you have money, it’s important to give back. This is a project that’s dear to my heart.”
If it was important to Clay, it was important to Connor. He didn’t know how yet, but he’d make sure he was more than just a token face of Clay’s charity. Supporting veteran families. That’s something real I can stand for. “What do you want me to do?”
“First, sit back and watch the magic happen. I’ll need to clear out your floor. There’s no time for me to buy the building, although I’ll test the waters on that. Either way, by the end of the week your floor will officially be the New York headquarters for my Gold Star initiative. All you’ll have to do is convince your woman to work for you.”
“Won’t that sound odd? I hired Mrs. Tellier. Now her?”
“Then you’d better make the job sound like a dream one.”
Connor was direct by nature. All this plotting was foreign to him. Still, if it solved an employment issue for Angelina while helping people, how could that be a bad thing? “She does know how to fundraise. That would help the program.”
“Absolutely. The more it becomes self-funded, the more I can expand it.”
“Okay. I’m in.”
“Connor.”
“Yes?”
“Keep the jet for now. An opportunity to take her somewhere might come up, and it’s a nice touch.”
“Thanks, Clay.”
After ending the call, Connor headed out to talk to his secretary. She closed her laptop when he pulled a chair up to her desk. “Kimmie, we need to talk.”
Her eyes filled with concern. “You’re not firing me, are you?”
He shook his head. “Never. Listen, things are about to change around here. They’re going to get crazy.”
“In what way?”
Connor propped his feet up on the corner of her desk and flexed his hands in front of him. “It’s a long story.”
She propped her chin on one hand. “I love stories.”
“Before you get excited about this one, it might be more of a slapstick comedy than a romance.”
“I enjoy both. Tell me everything.”
So, he did. Right down to feeling rushed when all he was looking for was a date with Angelina. When he finished, Kimmie was chewing her lip and seemed deep in thought.
“I should probably stop writing at the office.”
Connor dropped his feet to the floor. “No way, I just got you an editor. Besides, I love this book as much as your first two, and I need to know what happens.”
Without missing a beat, she said, “They end up together. It’s kind of a thing in the genre.”
Connor threw his head back and laughed. “You know what I mean.”
With a look of wonder on her face, Kimmie said, “Whoever this Angelina Kroll is, she’s one lucky woman. Outside of my husband, you are the sweetest man I know.”
“Sweet,” Connor wrinkled his nose. “Did you not hear what I said about how I’m trying to change my image? Women don’t want nice.”
“Then you’ve been banging the wrong women.”
Connor shrugged. That had recently occurred to him. Maybe I should try the women who say no. “Kimmie, I love that you weren’t surprised by any of this. Isn’t it batshit crazy?”
She smiled. “Yes and no. I’m definitely taking notes. Not sure anyone would believ
e a plot like this, but I’m hanging on the edge of my seat dying to know how it turns out, and that’s a good sign for any story.”
“This is real life, Kimmie.”
“Not after I change your names and set this in a foreign country.” She snapped her fingers. “I’ll make you a nice prince, forced to choose a bride, reluctantly alpha.”
“Whatever,” Connor said, rising to his feet. “Now I have to figure out how to ask Angelina to work for me without sounding like a total creeper.”
“Leave that to me, Mr. Sutton,” Kimmie said with confidence. “You just work on finding the right balance between badass and sweetheart.”
Connor nodded but stopped just before re-entering his office. “I do like her, Kimmie.”
“I know. That’s why I have no problem with any of this.”
“Whatever she decides, we need to make sure she leaves happier than we found her.”
“She won’t leave, Mr. Sutton. You’ve got this.”
Chapter Eight
A few days later Angelina woke from a nightmare to the sun streaming into her bedroom. She lay there, coming down from a burst of adrenaline, telling herself that dreams were not premonitions.
And sleeping late one day doesn’t mean I’ve lost my drive. Stress takes a toll on a person.
She pulled a pillow over her face, trying to wipe the fears of her subconscious out of her mind. Whitney was not dropping out of school. He was temporarily enrolled in a homeschool program. Okay, so he hadn’t liked the first two schools they had visited. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t love the next. Just because he wasn’t interested in talking to any of the children he’d known at Reemsly didn’t mean he hadn’t had friends there. Why were bad dreams so much easier to remember than good ones? In reality, the “talk” she’d had with him after leaving Joanna’s house had been less painful than she’d feared it would be. He knew what sex was. They’d had that talk. And, at her age, he said he figured she was having some.
He just didn’t want to know about it.
Fair enough.
Whitney was mature beyond his years. So, why . . . why had her subconscious mind tortured her with images of her child never enrolling in school again, never having friends, only wanting to stay home and watch porn all day?
Because dreams are stupid.
And, as my friends say, I tend to see things worse than they are.
Angelina tossed her pillow across the room. She wished the residual feeling of unease was that simple to discard.
She hadn’t heard from any of the schools she’d applied to work at, but she had followed up with phone calls. So far nothing had been decided. Which didn’t mean, as her dream had implied, she would never find a job and would slowly go through all her savings until she lost her house.
She threw back her blanket and sat up. She remembered that feeling. Back when she’d first moved in with her aunt, pregnant and scared, she’d feared she’d ruined her life. She hadn’t. All she’d done was start a new chapter.
That’s what this was—a chance to start fresh.
From her nightstand, her phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number, but since she was anticipating employers contacting her she answered. “Hello?”
“Good morning, Miss Kroll. My name Mrs. Sanchez. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
Angelina cleared her throat. Great, that’s exactly the impression I want to give—that I normally sleep in. “Not at all. May I ask what this call is regarding?”
“Yes. Of course. It’s regarding a job I feel you’d be perfect for.”
Yes. Yes. Thank you, Lord. Yes. “I’m sorry, I missed which school you’re calling from.”
“It’s not a position at a school. I’m recruiting for a fundraising position with Landon Foundation. The salary is quite generous, and you’d be compensated for your travel time getting into the city.”
The Landon Foundation? It was run by . . . the name eluded her for a moment. “I’ve heard of that program. It’s a nationwide support network for the families of veterans, isn’t it?”
“That’s it. We’re looking for someone like you to help in our New York office. When can I schedule you for an interview?”
“Oh. Um. Let me check my calendar on my phone.” Holy shit. An interview. In New York. I could commute. Depending on the salary, I should be able to afford tuition for Whitney. Traveling into New York though will mean I’m not around if Whitney needs me. A fun thought brought a smile to her face. On the other hand, Mrs. Tellier and I could commute to New York now that she’s working for Connor Sutton . . . She gasped as she remembered something. Clay Marshall, known friend of the Barringtons. Connor Sutton—brother-in-law of the Barringtons. New York City. One had nothing to do with the other, right? “Can I ask who I would be working under?”
Silence.
That can’t be good.
“Mr. Sutton,” the woman said slowly.
“Connor Sutton?” Angelina’s hand gripped the phone tighter.
“Oh, dammit, I did this wrong, didn’t I? Forget I said his name and come on in for the interview. It’s really a great office. Mrs. Tellier and I have already had lunch and talked about how perfect you are for . . . for the job.”
“I thought Mrs. Tellier didn’t start there for a month.”
“She technically doesn’t, but she came in to meet us and she said she wants to start right away.”
“Wow. Okay. I need a moment to wrap my head around this. Did she suggest me for the position?”
Mrs. Sanchez made a frustrated sound. “I am a horrible liar, so I’m going to stick to the truth—no, but as I said she does believe you’d be perfect for it.”
“So, Mr. Sutton was the one who requested you call me.”
“Sort of. I’m his secretary, and I can attest that Mr. Sutton is an incredible man. Think of this as an adventure. You seem like a woman who isn’t afraid of one. Take a leap of faith, come in, see the office. I guarantee you won’t regret it.”
And this is his next move? I guess I should be flattered that he’s willing to go this far to get into my pants. But, no. “Adventure? You apparently don’t know me. I’m the opposite of adventurous. Tell Mr. Sutton I appreciate the job offer, but I’m hoping to find employment closer to where my son attends school.”
“There are good schools in the city.”
Is she trying so hard out of loyalty to Connor or because he’s holding her job over her head like Mr. Svete did with me? “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t sound like the position for me. Tell Mr. Sutton I said thank you, but no thank you.” With that, she followed her gut instinct and hung up.
Telling herself she’d made the only sensible choice, Angelina showered and changed into slacks and a blouse. She made herself a coffee then went to check on Whitney. He was still sleeping soundly. She stood in his doorway, sipping coffee and reassuring herself that she had the situation under control.
She couldn’t have said yes to Connor Sutton.
Dinner in Venice? I have too many responsibilities to run off like that.
Work in his office? I’m not naïve. He didn’t offer me a position because of my fundraising skills.
Saying yes would only have led to hot sex on his office desk.
Lots and lots of really yummy, name-screaming, sweaty, orgasmic pounding.
I don’t need that.
Oh, my God, especially not with Mrs. Tellier in the next room.
No, no, no.
I don’t need a man in my life. Sex would just complicate everything.
I need all the clarity I can get right now.
Impulsive? Irresponsible? Been there, done that.
Whitney needs to find a school. I need to find a job—a real one.
She closed the door to Whitney’s room then grabbed her laptop and sat on the couch without opening it. Images of Connor kept muddling her thoughts, frustrating her, exciting her. Was Connor really out there somewhere wishing he could see her again?
Imagining the two of them together?
Involving his secretary in his plans out of desperation?
How could she concentrate after imagining that?
Saying no was the right choice.
It didn’t feel right.
It felt disappointing.
Empty.
Like her sex life.
She opened her laptop and forced herself to sift through emails. Each time her thoughts wandered back to Connor, she gave herself a firm inner shake. She’d read her share of romances. Sure, she had fantasies of being swept off her feet by some rich alpha hero. She enjoyed escaping into those stories, but that didn’t mean she wanted that man in her life.
In reality, that man was a controlling asshole.
He swept in, had his fun, and moved on.
In books those men were fantastic in bed. In Angelina’s experience, the bigger the man’s ego, the less effort he put into his partner’s pleasure. He considered showing up enough of a gift.
No man had ever gone as far as offering her a job, though, in an effort to see her again. What would that have led to had I said yes? Chasing me around his office? Banging by the water cooler? On the copy machine? Angelina sighed. Probably quickly followed by me either being fired or watching him chase the next skirt.
Fantasy vs. reality.
Her phone rang with another number she didn’t recognize. She almost didn’t answer it, but ended up giving into curiosity. “Hello?”
“Good morning, Miss Kroll, my name is Sophie Barrington.”
Angelina stood up in surprise, catching her laptop just before it hit the floor. She looked around the room quickly, regretting the slight disorder of the room, despite the fact that the woman on the phone couldn’t see it. “Good morning,” she said in a strangled voice.
Aunt Rudi had admired the matriarch of the Barrington family. Stories of her charity work had inspired Angelina to go into fundraising. Angelina normally didn’t fangirl the rich and famous, but Sophie was an icon. Classic. Refined. Known for championing many causes, but also elusive and protected. No one Angelina knew had ever spoken to her in person.
“I hope it’s okay that I’m calling out of the blue. I remember your aunt and she was a remarkable woman. When your name came up in a conversation the other day I didn’t make the connection at first, but once I did I knew you would be the perfect person for . . . the position at the Landon Foundation.”
Reluctantly Alpha (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 8) Page 10