Boss Games: Boss #7

by Victoria Quinn

  “She’s a beautiful girl.”

  “Thank you. I’ll never say this to her, but having her was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. It was twenty at the time and getting started with modeling. Money was always difficult, and my husband wasn’t a good man. But she’s the most important thing in my life, and she’s my whole world. I couldn’t imagine my life without her. She completes me more than any relationship I’ve ever had.”

  That was exactly how I felt about my sons. The fact that I could still see Isabella when I looked at them made me cherish them even more. “I think that’s how every parent feels about their kids.” I noticed it was the second time she’d spoken ill of her ex-husband, and she unleashed a harsh insult. “Your ex-husband wasn’t a good man?”

  Her gaze shifted away, and her smile died. “Yeah, but that doesn’t matter anymore. It’s in the past—where it belongs. My daughter keeps in touch with him, but she doesn’t have a clue what happened between the two of us—and that’s how I want it to be. I don’t want Lizzie to hate her father—even if she should.”

  Now I wanted to know more. Did he hurt her? Did he break her heart? I shouldn’t care about something that happened over a decade ago, but I did care. She dismissed the topic with her last statement, so I didn’t press the subject. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t still curious. “She’s your only child?”

  “Yep. So she’s a bit spoiled.” Her smile returned when the subject of her ex had been dropped. “I’ve never known a love the way you describe with your wife. In my experience, men aren’t heroic or romantic. Maybe it’s just the line of business I’m in, but the handsome men I encounter are either jerks or gay.” She chuckled at the end, laughing it off. “Or just mostly gay.”

  A woman across the room called her over. “Scarlet, let me introduce you to Tom!”

  Scarlet waved back before she turned back to me. “Excuse me, Vincent. I hope you have a good night. I’ll let you know when I’m finished with the article.” She gave me a smile before she turned away.

  I wanted to grab her, but I didn’t. “Scarlet.”

  “Yes?” She turned back to me, her acquaintances staring at us from their formation.

  I didn’t know why I asked her to turn around. I guess I didn’t want her to walk away—not yet. Our conversation was intriguing, and I found myself wanting it to continue. She wasn’t exceptional, but I found her interesting. I loved the way she smiled so genuinely, the way she adored her daughter and wore her heart on her sleeve. I loved the way she still held herself so elegantly even when the subject turned heavy. “Have lunch with me tomorrow.”

  Her smile fell as a blank look entered her expression. She obviously hadn’t been expecting me to make that request.

  In all honesty, I hadn’t been expecting to do it.

  But I knew I wanted to keep talking to her—and not in a crowded room where people could distract us.

  I wanted it to be just the two of us.

  I wanted to look at her beautiful face and watch her stare back at me. I wanted to know everything about her life, everything about her daughter. I wanted to see her in tight clothing, see the way her waist still curved in so sexily. She didn’t look like a forty-two-year-old mother exactly the way I didn’t look like a fifty-six-year-old man.

  I’d been with the most beautiful models in the world.

  But they didn’t hold a candle to Scarlet Blackwood.

  She was more than a pretty face.

  She was a pretty soul—a soul that had pierced through my armor and touched mine.

  Finally, she answered, “I’d love to.”

  * * *

  I rose from my chair when she reached the table, and I greeted her with a kiss on the cheek just as I did last night.

  She leaned into it, expecting it this time.

  I pulled out the chair for her then sat down.

  She did the same.

  She wore a black blouse with large shiny buttons down the front and a tropical blue scarf. Her hair was in curls that day, and the strands floating around her shoulders. She was in black jeans, and the dark colors made her look even thinner than she did last night. She wore a few rings, rose gold and sparkly.

  I realized I hadn’t said anything to her yet. “Thanks for meeting me.”

  “Happy to be here.” She smiled at me, immediately bringing a sense of comfort to the table. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dressed in anything but a suit before.”

  Since it was Saturday, I was in dark jeans and a long-sleeved black t-shirt. The bulk of my wardrobe consisted of suits because that’s what I wore most of the time. It was nice to wear something casual on the weekends. A lot more comfortable than the thick material that had been measured to fit my frame perfectly. It was always constricting, no matter how soft the fabric was.

  “You look nice,” she added.

  “Thanks. You look nice as well.”

  She smiled then looked down at her menu.

  The waiter came over and took our drink orders. Since we were ready, we made our entrée selections too. We were sitting right against the window, people passing back and forth outside on the sidewalk.

  “Did you stay late last night?” I’d met up with some acquaintances, and we’d watched the fashion show from one of the closer rows. I connected with Connor Suede later, and he introduced me to Ms. Alexander. She was a highly intelligent scientist who had changed the entire landscape of energy. Then Thorn stepped into the conversation. It seemed tense at the time, but I wasn’t sure if that was real or just my overactive intuition.

  “Later than I wanted to. But I did have fun. What about you?”

  “I left shortly after the show. After I had a few words with Connor, I left.”

  “He’s a fascinating man. He really has a talent when it comes to fashion. It’s truly incredible. I bought a few of his jackets years ago, and I still wear them regularly. To him, the fabric is more important than the design. His simple approach to wardrobe is what I like the most. Sometimes you see designers debut these loud outfits that just don’t seem practical.”

  I nodded in agreement even though I couldn’t relate. The same woman had been picking out my clothes for years. She knew what I liked and what I despised. Fashion had never been important to me—only money.

  She looked down and chuckled. “I’m sorry. I could ramble on about fashion forever…”

  “No need to apologize. You know what you love.”

  “And what do you love, Vincent?”

  I led a very simple life despite my wealth. There were only a few things I cared about. “My sons. I’m very lucky that they’ve transitioned from sons to friends. I love sports. I love to golf. My favorite hobby is to sail through the Mediterranean on my yacht. An excellent wine paired with the right cheese is something I look forward to every time I’m in the South of France. And once in a while, I allow myself the luxury of freshly baked bread.”

  She hung on my every word, like she was imagining all the sights in my mind.

  “Those are the things I’m passionate about.”

  “I liked how you didn’t mention work at all.”

  I didn’t realize that until now. “I’ve accomplished everything I’ve wanted to do in the business world. I’m proud of my achievements, but I’m no longer passionate about it. There’s more to life than work.”

  “Well said. It sounds like you do an excellent job of balancing work and pleasure.”

  “I work hard so I can play hard.” Sasha and I took a trip to Greece together just a few months ago. We explored Santorini from my yacht, and I fed her grapes while she lay around in her bikini. Those quiet moments of beauty wouldn’t be possible if I didn’t hustle at the office.

  She nodded. “Well said again.”

  “Have you traveled much?”

  “I’ve been to Italy and France many times for work. In fact, I’m there regularly. Both are beautiful countries. I love every moment when I’m there. I haven’t sailed in a yacht, but the view
from land is still wonderful.”

  “Have you taken your daughter along?”

  “No. She’s very involved in her own life. She’s always wanted to be a nurse, so she’s volunteered at the hospital for a long time. And now that she’s in school, she’s very committed to her profession.”

  “She’s ambitious.”

  “Very.” Like always, she smiled when she spoke of her daughter.

  I rested my back against the chair and kept my shoulders straight. My eyes were glued to her face, and I couldn’t help but stare. My gaze was naturally intimidating because direct eye contact didn’t unnerve me. But when it came to some people, I had to be careful.

  With Scarlet, she didn’t seem to mind. Sometimes she held my gaze, and sometimes she looked away.

  Nothing else in the restaurant took my notice. I was more interested in the freckles on her right cheek and the thickness of her eyelashes. She wore a dark lipstick, and that made her smile more apparent.

  And more beautiful.

  “I spoke to Sasha at the end of the night.”

  I already knew where this was going before she even finished.

  “She mentioned you.”

  I held her gaze, unsure what to say in response. My conversation with Sasha didn’t go poorly, but it didn’t go well either. “She’s a nice woman. She’ll bounce back.”

  “She had a lot of nice things to say about you. She said you’re the most wonderful man she’s ever met…and she loves you.”

  I didn’t want Sasha to love me, not when I didn’t love her in return. I wanted her to find happiness in a man much better than me. “I never meant to hurt her. I told her up front what our relationship was. Maybe I let it go on too long. Maybe I should have warned her better. I care about her and don’t want her to be in pain. I wish there were something I could do, but there’s nothing I can do.”

  When Scarlet mentioned Sasha, there didn’t seem to be any accusation in her tone. She seemed to be asking as a friend rather than a nosy person. “When you date women like Sasha…what exactly are you looking for?”

  Our relationship had shifted from professional to something else. Now we seemed to be friends, exchanging stories about life. There wasn’t judgment on the table. There was only understanding. “Companionship.”

  “And nothing more?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing more. Sasha deserves to be with a man who can give her everything she deserves. I’m not that man. She wants a family someday, which is something I’m not interested in. She’s looking for passionate love, and I can’t offer her that either. The only thing I can offer is exotic trips, expensive jewelry, and good sex.” It didn’t seem appropriate to talk about such crass things so bluntly, but that was the entire truth.

  “Do they usually want more?”

  “Sometimes. I suspect some of them think they can change my mind.”

  “Change your mind about what?” she asked.

  “About something more serious.”

  “Is there a reason why you aren’t looking for something more serious?”

  Now I knew we weren’t talking about the article at all anymore. This was just between her and me. “When I lost Isabella, all of my love was buried with her. I couldn’t imagine loving someone, not after I loved her. So I decided to have short-term relationships that would give me what I needed.”

  She nodded slightly, as if she understood.

  “What about you?” I wanted to know what she was looking for. I wanted to know what she wanted in a man, in a partner.

  “What about me?” she asked.

  “What’s your romantic life like?”

  “Pretty boring, honestly,” she said with a chuckle. “I haven’t been on a date in…at least a year.”

  A year? That was a long time to go without some kind of companionship. I was single for three years after Isabella passed away. That’s how long it took me before I could begin to feel attracted to other women. I didn’t want to say something rude, but silence was worse. “That’s a long time…”

  “Yeah, it is,” she said with a sigh. “But most of the men my age are happily married. So the dating pool is pretty small. And the rest of the men usually consist of weirdos or jerks. I don’t want to settle for someone I’m not truly in love with, so I’d rather be alone. And being alone isn’t all that bad. My sister lives here, so I see her all the time, along with my nephews. And I have my daughter, of course. I have great friends and a wonderful job. I don’t need a man to complete me. At least, just any man…”

  I understood her perspective. I hadn’t tried dating anyone my own age because I wasn’t looking to get remarried, so I went after women who were too young for me. This was the first time I’d sat across someone who was actually compatible with me.

  That scared me a little bit.

  Silence stretched between us, growing heavier by the second. I noticed the necklace around her throat and the subtle eye shadow on her lids. There was a single freckle at the top of her wrist. The longer I was in her presence, the more I absorbed her into my memory. It was difficult for me to imagine a woman like her ever finding a man good enough for her. It didn’t surprise me that dating was virtually impossible.

  The waiter brought our food, shattering our silence momentarily.

  Now that we grabbed our silverware and ate, the quiet wasn’t as noticeable. I knew our lack of conversation wasn’t due to discomfort. In fact, it was the contrary. We didn’t need to fill the silence with words to make it easier.

  I liked that.

  I was a man of very few words. I liked a woman who accepted that, who didn’t ask if there was something wrong just because I had nothing to say.

  She took a few bites of her salad then stared at me across the table. “Any news on Titan?”

  “She’s the same.” Sitting at home and waiting for the healing process to finish.

  “Do they have any wedding plans?”

  “Not that I know of. I suspect they’ll tie the knot the second she’s better. Neither one of them wants a big wedding.”

  “A big wedding isn’t necessarily a better wedding.”

  “I thought about offering Isabella’s dress to Titan, but I’m not sure if I will.”

  Her eyes softened. “You still have it?”

  “It’s in my closet.” I’d packed up most of her things and put them in storage. It was too difficult to throw her things away, like her favorite cardigan or the scarf she always wore around Christmastime. But I didn’t want to see them every single day either. Her dress was one thing that I kept. My collared shirts and slacks all hung in a row. At the very end was her white dress in the plastic covering.

  “I’m sure Titan would feel honored if you offered.”

  “But I already gave Diesel her engagement ring. I think I should save the dress for the next son who gets married…to make it fair.”

  “Aww…Titan is wearing her ring?”

  I nodded.

  “That’s very sweet.”

  It’d been sitting in my nightstand ever since I buried Isabella. My ring was with hers. It took me two years after her death to finally stop wearing it. “It looks great on Titan. I think Isabella would be happy to see her wear it.”

  “Too bad they didn’t get to meet.”

  Too bad she didn’t get to experience so much with me. She died far too young. I would always be bitter about it. I was supposed to go first. “Yeah. But I’m sure she’s watching over us. She’s seen the fine men the boys turned out to be. She’s seen all my mistakes as well as my redemption.”

  “And I’m sure she’s very proud of you too.”

  There was nothing to be proud of, if you asked me.

  As if she could read my mind, she responded to my thought. “You raised those boys on your own. They all turned out great, so you must have done something right. You carried on even when it was difficult. Not many people would have been as strong as you.”

  “You’re too kind.” The only thing that kept me going
was my boys. If I hadn’t had them, I wasn’t sure how I would have made it through that difficult time. Even today, they acted as my crutch.

  “I’m being sincere, Vincent. You shouldn’t be too hard on yourself.”

  “Even after what I did to Brett?”

  She shook her head. “Everyone behaves differently when it comes to grief. You can’t judge someone when you’ve never known that kind of pain. Loss turns you into a different person. It affects each of us differently, just as medication affects everyone else differently. You really shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. I know your wife wouldn’t want you to.”

  “You think so?” I whispered.

  “I know so.”

  “How?” I’d always wanted Isabella’s approval, but I wouldn’t get it until my time had come.

  “Because she loved you.”

  14

  Thorn

  I talked with a few people and made my appearance at the fashion party. As time went on and I was in the public eye more, fewer people saw me as the man who was engaged to Tatum Titan—and then dumped by Tatum Titan.

  People were starting to see me as Thorn Cutler again—just a man.

  I had a few drinks, shared a few laughs, and then spotted Vincent Ammo across the room. He wore a midnight black suit with a matching tie. Thick like a bull, he stood out against the crowd.

  And Autumn was with him.

  I didn’t know what the two had in common, but judging by the fact that Connor Suede was standing with them, he must be the missing piece. Vincent had done some modeling for Connor, and so had I. Maybe Autumn did too.

  My eyes grazed over her body, seeing the luscious curves in the champagne pink dress she wore. It was an exceptional color on her slightly darker skin. Against her black hair, the color popped even more.

  I set my drink aside and joined their conversation, my eyes trained on Autumn.

  Vincent noticed me first. “How are you, Thorn?” He shook my hand.

  “I’m well. You?”

  “Great.” He gave me a polite smile before he turned to Connor. “Connor was just telling us about a new line of shoes he’s been working on.”