by Zuri Day
“I am, too. Let’s go.”
“I don’t want to leave you, Christian. Not like this. Why don’t I stay so that we can work through this together?”
“Maybe later,” he said. “Right now there’s work to do—conferencing and strategizing with attorneys and publicists. We’ve got a few fires to put out.”
The drive from his house to the hotel was done in total silence. He pulled into the circular entrance and waved away the valet coming to greet them. Christian put the car in Park and after a long moment, held out his arms. Lauren fell into them and fought back tears.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he said, moving his hands from around her and placing her away from him “I know this leak isn’t your fault, but I can’t help thinking that the lie you told Ed was the basis for this story.” He held up a hand to stop her protest. “I’m not saying that what I’m thinking is right or even rational. What’s happened in the past affects my present. And because of that, I can’t be with you right now.”
“So this time it’s you putting the brakes on our making love?”
“I guess so.” He put the car in Drive, a sign that their conversation was over. “But tomorrow it will be business as usual. I’ll see you at work.”
Lauren maintained her composure until she entered her room, then allowed the tears to flow. She pulled out her phone to call Avery and was surprised to see missed texts and calls. Only then did she realize she’d been so excited to see Christian that she’d never taken her phone out of airplane mode. When she did, she wished she hadn’t. The sham marriage wasn’t the blogger’s only news. Her father’s indiscretion had also been exposed.
Lauren called home. Faye answered the phone, distraught as Lauren imagined she’d be.
“Your father is holed up in the study,” Faye finished. “I’m worried about him, Lauren. He’s totally broken.”
“Mom, I’m so sorry,” Lauren cried, tears falling again. “It’s all my fault.”
“Ed Miller is to blame for this. I’d bet everything I own that he was behind this article. Your dad stood up to him, and he couldn’t stand it.”
“Should I come back home? Do you think Dad would feel better if I talked to him?”
“Nothing can help right now, dear. Except prayer. Will you do that?”
It had been a while since their last conversation, but when Lauren ended the call with Faye she closed her eyes and asked God for the biggest favor in her entire life.
The next day Lauren and Victoria met in the Breedloves’ home. Victoria was gracious, as usual. She could afford to be more objective than her son. The family had endured greater scandals, she assured Lauren, and said no doubt there’d be more. She even offered the guesthouse back for Lauren’s extended stay. But Lauren moved out of the hotel in Henderson and found a condo to sublet not far from the Strip and threw herself into work for the foundation.
When at the hotel working with Christian, she hid her heartache at his distance behind a professional veneer. Did she miss making love with him? Absolutely. Did she think it was possible for them to have a relationship? No idea. Lauren couldn’t figure out her own feelings, much less try to meld them with someone else’s. She was worried about her parents, who’d indeed retained legal counsel, even though Gerald penned a response that blasted his own son. Fortunately for her, the foundation’s second major gala—a Saturday-night concert during Memorial Day weekend—was taking place in just three weeks. Between overseeing that project and working on CANN Island, she had precious little time to think of Christian, how much she missed him or if she would ever feel his arms around her again.
The following Monday, her second week back in Nevada and first full day in the office at CANN, Lauren worked twelve hours. She was exhausted but felt immense satisfaction from being in control of something she was good at and getting things done. Being the last person in the office, she turned off the lights, locked up and headed to executive parking, dreaming of Chinese takeout, a long, hot shower and a good night’s sleep.
“Hello, Lauren.”
Lauren turned toward the voice, where the private elevator doors had just opened. Even without turning around she would have known it was Christian. He looked good enough to eat and as tired as she was, she still wanted to.
“Hey.”
“Trying to avoid me?” he asked.
“No.”
Lauren continued toward her car.
Christian fell in alongside her. “Just another day at the office, burning the midnight oil?”
“I got the email about the meeting next week and was getting a head start on my presentation. With the upcoming concert, this was one of the only days I could focus on CANN Island.”
“Your work is impressive. Even my haters have taken notice.”
“Phillip Troutman and Wally Long?” she guessed.
“Ha! You figured them out already?”
“I pay attention.” They reached her car. “I also saw the retraction by the blogger who released that initial article about my dad and our supposed marriage, and the article your publicist wrote stating the facts. Your kind words were a boost to my father’s spirits, and while you could have raked me over the coals, you didn’t. That was very kind of you, and I appreciate it.”
“I hate that Ed told the blogger I actually got married and other papers reported the lie. Scandal can affect business. But as Mom has so eloquently pointed out several times recently, it comes with the territory of being a Breedlove. Back then you did what you felt you had to do, and what subsequently got leaked was not your fault.”
“Thank you.”
Lauren reached for the door handle. Christian blocked her.
“Where are you headed?”
“Home, thank God.”
“Where’s that,” Christian asked, “since you turned down Mom’s offer to return to the guesthouse?”
“Not far,” was Lauren’s evasive answer.
“Listen to you, trying to sound all mysterious.”
“That was a polite way to suggest that you mind your business.”
“Ha!”
Lauren smiled. “I’m kidding.”
“No, you’re not. But that straightforwardness is pretty sexy.”
“Hmm.”
“Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
Christian gently took her arm and led her a couple cars down, to a pearl-white sedan.
“To get something to eat.”
Christian pulled out a key fob. Lauren heard a click. He held the door open.
“This is you?” He shut her door, then went around to the driver’s side and got in. “You got another car?”
“I’m thinking about it. Trying it out.”
Lauren looked at the steering wheel and saw a symbol she’d seen before. Not in person, but in magazines, and on television a time or two.
“This is a Bentley?” He nodded. “No wonder the leather feels so amazing. But look how it’s streaked. They must have used the cheap stuff.”
Her jab did as intended and caused Christian to flash his flawless smile. The beauty of those pearly whites against his dark skin, framed by those nice lips, was like a cup of caffeine straight into her core. That fine brother gave her life!
“It’s a way of treating the leather that retains the hide’s natural essence.”
“It’s beautiful, but so not politically correct.”
“Definitely not for everyone.”
So focused on the car’s interior, she didn’t pay attention to where they were going until Christian pressed on the gas, and the power generated by the twin-turbo engines forced her back against the seat. They’d merged onto Interstate 15, headed toward Breedlove.
“Are we going to the estate?” Christian shook his head. “Where then?”
“We’re going to hang out with the Br
eedlove locals.”
She arched a brow. “Isn’t that what I’ve been doing for the past two months?”
“You’ve been in the inner circle of the town’s elite. We’re going to hang out with regular folk.”
Lauren relaxed against the headrest, watched Christian’s strong, capable fingers work the stereo system until the soft sounds of neo soul filled the air. She remembered the last time those hands had touched her body, the night she’d returned from Maryland and they’d made love all night long. Aside from music delivered so crisply it sounded as though the artist was in the back seat, there was no other noise. No sound of tires rolling on cement, no hum of engine, no sound of wind. Before, she’d felt it a complete waste of money to spend as much on a car as some did on their houses. But now as the beast quietly ate up the highway, she understood why some did. Riding in the Bentley was like floating on a cloud. That Christian was beside her made it feel a bit like heaven. But Lauren knew that, sadly, there was no reclaiming that paradise. Even though he knew that Ed leaked the story, Lauren owned her part in the matter, that had she never lied in the first place there wouldn’t have been a story. Could Christian ever truly forgive her for that? And did she want to be with a man who couldn’t forgive, forget and move on?
They drove past the estate and into the town of Breedlove, population 2,137. The main street, called Main Street, was straight out of a movie, Mayberry in the twenty-first century. A bank anchored one corner, with a small grocer on the other. Lauren glimpsed a doughnut shop, an insurance company, a consignment store and a dollar mart before Christian turned the corner onto Sixth Street, the second main drag. Several cars lined this street. Young people mingled between them. Two guys tossed a neon football. Loud music played. She tried to imagine Christian as one of these kids. She couldn’t.
“So this is where you grew up, huh?” Lauren murmured.
“Yes and no. I went to a private high school in Las Vegas, so my interaction with kids my age here in Breedlove was limited. Plus there was the whole ‘rich kid’ stereotype, and people thinking I thought more of myself than I did.” He exhaled. “Add to that the other guys’ girlfriends always coming at me and you end up with someone the other guys would rather not have around.”
“Sounds rather lonely.”
“Hardly. Who needed them? I had my brothers. Those who were welcomed into our gang were the lucky ones.”
Lauren would have called him cocky or conceited, except she knew what he’d said was true.
They pulled up to a ’50s-style burger joint with two huge Bs outlined in neon lights.
“What’s that stand for?” Lauren asked, after Christian had come around and opened her door.
“Breedlove Burgers.”
“Another family business,” she teased. He nodded. “Really? I was just joking.”
They entered the noisy establishment, which smelled of caramelized onions and grilled beef. Private school aside, Christian seemed to know everyone in the place. He spoke to them all on the way to a booth at the back of the room. A server came for their order, which he placed without asking what Lauren wanted. “Trust me,” he said, to her raised-eyebrow question.
She did. “You guys really own this place?”
“Not us. My brother Adam. This is his baby.”
“I never would have taken him for a restaurateur.”
“It’s a way for him to show off the beef he raises.”
Lauren shook her head. “You lost me.”
“Adam’s a cowboy, and a rancher. You’ve been to his place and didn’t figure that out?”
“I saw dozens of cattle that day out running but it didn’t occur to me that they belonged to Adam. Is there anything your family can’t do?”
“No.”
Over double burgers on toasted buns and home-cut fries, Lauren learned about the history of Breedlove and the part Christian’s dad, Nicholas, played in founding the town. It was quite a backstory, which left her even more impressed with the family than she already was...which was a lot.
“Do you think we could work together?” Lauren hadn’t meant to ask the question aloud and even as she had, knew he’d misinterpret its meaning.
“We do work together, Lauren.”
“Not professionally, but personally. Do you think you and I could have a successful relationship, or do you think our personalities are too explosive for it to ever work out?”
“Wow, what brought that on?”
“The decision to be honest with myself, and to be as honest with you as I was with Ed when I told him I didn’t want to be with him.” She rested a hand on his arm. “I do want to be with you, and if you feel the same, I would love to see where having a real relationship might take us. Is that possible?”
“I don’t know.”
His smoldering look seared her insides even as his answer squeezed her heart.
“I’ll admit that what we have is special. You’re an amazing woman who’s caused me to consider things I’ve never thought about before. Having just been promoted to the helm of CANN, I had no plans to get into a relationship. Yet even though we’ve never said it, that feels like what this is.”
“I feel the same way, too,” she whispered.
“But the truth is, everything that’s happened recently makes the matter more complicated. I’m already high profile and don’t know that I’m ready for the spotlight that would come with dating the woman named in the blog that went viral, exposing deception. I’ve forgiven you,” he quickly added. “What I’m saying isn’t personal, but viewed strictly from my position as president of a company where profile matters. It may sound cold to hear me put business before love, but I have more than myself to think about. I have my family, hundreds of employees, their families, investors...” A look of aching regret crossed his handsome face. “What happens to me reflects on the company, for better or worse. Any scandal in my personal life is seen by my professional peers. Maybe later, after the CANN Island launch, when the rumor mill has tired of the sham marriage story, I’ll feel more comfortable taking the chance. But right now is not that time. Can you understand that?”
Lauren nodded, squared her shoulders and placed a shield over her heart. “I can totally understand it.”
He held out his hand. “Friends?”
She slid her hand into his and braced herself against the jolt she knew would come, and did.
“Friends.”
Twenty-Three
For the next two weeks, Christian and Lauren didn’t see much of each other. Outside of meetings or the occasional room or hallway encounter, she was MIA, busy working on the concert, she’d said when asked.
But Christian knew that it was more than that. Whenever they met she was polite, poised and professional. She laughed when he joked with her and smiled on cue. No one could have accused her of being anything less than a standout, the kind of person any corporation or organization would be lucky to have working on their team. But he knew something was missing when he came around. Desire. Heat. He found himself remembering how they blazed in the throes of passion, found himself wanting to experience it again. But was it fair to reopen a door that he’d closed, especially for a brief visit instead of a longtime stay?
It wasn’t fair to her. He knew this. But it didn’t change the fact that he wanted her, that without the real Lauren, all of her, days weren’t as bright as they used to be and nights were much too long.
After wrestling with his thoughts and feelings a couple more days, he called his father.
“Morning, son.”
“Good morning, Dad. Have you left for the office?”
“I’m not going in today.”
“Everything okay?” Christian asked.
“More than fine. Now that you’re president, I’m a thumb twiddler. Promoting you pushed me right out of a job.”
“That’s such
a crock.”
“But it made you feel good, didn’t it?”
“A little bit.” Christian headed toward the shower. “Is it okay to stop by before heading into the city? I’ve got a situation and could use your advice.”
“I’ll be here.”
A short time later, he pulled his Bentley into the circular drive. Lauren’s reaction to it had convinced him to buy it. If things worked out the way his mind had been headed, maybe he’d buy her one, too. Just beyond the foyer, he ran into Sofia.
“Where’s Dad?” he asked, after greeting her warmly.
“In his study, waiting on you.”
“Thanks, Sofia.”
“Chris?” He turned around. “Are you hungry?”
“I’ll grab something when I get to the office.”
“Gabe just made cinnamon rolls. They’re still warm.”
“How can I say no to Gabe’s gooey rolls?”
“I’ll bring it down,” Sofia said, smiling. “With milk.”
Christian reached his father’s study and after a light tap, opened the door. Where the rest of the house mainly had Victoria’s aesthetic, this room was pure Nicholas Breedlove. Christian took it all in as he crossed over to where his father sat on a love seat by a corner fireplace. The dark walnut walls, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, rich leathers, antique desks and tables radiated pure masculine elegance.
Nicholas’s dedication to family was evident in a grouping of portraits—him and Victoria, all of the sons. A small one of Nicholas’s father, Jewel’s first husband Bobby, and his group, the Soul Smokers. And Christian’s favorite, the only one in color, of Nicholas’s mother—their grandmother Jewel—which was prominently displayed in a rectangular gilded frame. She was at the center of a line of showgirls, adorned in fishnet stockings and sequins, with a feather headpiece at least three feet tall. He remembered visiting her home as a boy. Even then, in her fifties and sixties, no one could tell Christian that his grandmother wasn’t a star!
In the boardroom Nicholas was all Rolex and Armani but here, in the study on his vast estate, one caught a glimpse of the foundation at the base of the man. His foundation was family, and owning one’s own.