The Man Who Has No Soul

by Victoria Quinn

I opened my documents on my computer.

  “You could at least pretend to be sad.”

  But I wasn’t sad.

  “It’s only a few blocks from here, so we’ll be close to each other.”

  “Great.”

  He ate his enchiladas, using his fork to slice through the corn tortillas and get to the chickened smothered in cheese. “I saw Cleo yesterday. She’s pretty cool.”

  My eyes shifted to him.

  “I forgot my keys like an idiot, so she had to unlock the door for me. You were MIA. What happened to you anyway?”

  “I had to work late.”

  “Because?”

  “Because of reasons you wouldn’t understand.”

  He rolled his eyes. “We’ve got the same DNA. If you’re smart, then I’m probably a little smart too.”

  No comparison. “That’s not how genetics works…”

  He kept eating. “Anyway, she’s really cool. I told her we should go to Taco Bell together.”

  Both of my eyebrows rose because I didn’t have a clue what that meant.

  “Yes, she’s normal,” he said. “She doesn’t eat fish all day long.”

  “I don’t eat fish all day long…”

  “I showed her a picture of Derek. She thought he was the cutest guy on the planet.”

  The mention of my son immediately made me sick, made my chest tighten in that way I didn’t like, but I was also touched by her compliment. “Yeah?”

  “Said he looked just like you.”

  He did look just like me.

  “When’s he coming to visit anyway?” He spoke between bites.

  I didn’t want to talk about my marital bullshit. I didn’t even want to think about it. “Not sure.”

  “I miss that little guy.” My brother loved my son like his own, had developed a closeness the second he could walk. “And I can tell by her smile that she wants kids…and I want kids. So that’s a good sign.”

  Now I didn’t look at my screen once. “You’ve seen her a few times, and now you want to have kids with her?”

  “No. But I don’t want to waste my time on a woman who doesn’t want a family.”

  “She never explicitly said that—”

  “She likes kids,” he said quickly. “And that makes me like her more. That’s all I meant by that.” He shut me down before I ran my mouth with a million questions, because I couldn’t comprehend the assumptions he made sometimes. It was one of those social things I didn’t understand. Until someone explicitly stated a fact to me, I didn’t consider anything to be true.

  “I didn’t realize you were looking for a serious relationship.” We went to bars and hooked up with women, never calling them again, living the bachelor life that men our age enjoyed. He never talked about the future beyond that, romantically.

  He shrugged. “I want to get married and have a family someday. I’m still young, so I’m not rushing to the altar right this second. But if I met the right woman…I’d be into it.”

  “And you think Cleo is the right woman?” I asked incredulously.

  “No.”

  “Because you’re talking about kids—”

  “Deacon, listen.” He raised his hand and silenced me. “I’m attracted to Cleo. And in my limited conversations with her, she seems chill, easygoing, funny. She’s also responsible, having an important job. So, no, I’m not saying she’s the right woman. I’m saying she’s the kind of woman I’d like to ask out. You get what I’m saying?”

  I stared at him blankly.

  “She’s not some random chick I’d pick up at the bar and forget. She’s someone I’d like to see again—all I’m saying.”

  I nodded slightly and turned back to my computer.

  “Geez, you’re exhausting sometimes.”

  “If you chose your words more carefully, it might make it less confusing. And you talk a lot—but don’t really say anything at the same time.”

  He chuckled then started eating again. “Yeah…I’m the confusing one.”

  The chat box opened on my screen.

  Theresa: Cleo just arrived.

  I typed back. Send her in.

  I told Theresa I didn’t want her to call me every time she needed something. She could write most of her messages, and I would address them when I felt like it. If it was something too complicated to write, that was when she called. Those times were rare.

  Cleo opened the door and stepped inside, wearing a long skirt in subtle shades of pink. Her top was skintight, a single strip of skin between the waistband of her skirt and her blouse. Her hair was curled and pinned to one side. The weather had finally started to warm up, so her entire being seemed to brighten as well. She held an envelope in her hand and approached the desk as she pulled out the papers. She organized them on my desk, so I knew where to sign. “Just add your signatures, and I’ll hand-deliver this for you.” She stood with her hands at her waistline, adopting the posture of a journalist about to deliver the evening news.

  I grabbed my pen and started to add my signatures.

  She looked out the window behind me then examined my bookshelves. “I also brought you some lunch. Our chef had some extra salmon, so I had him make a plate for you. I left it with Theresa.”

  I added another signature and looked up at her. “You can sit down.” It was a stack of papers and would take me a few minutes.

  She lowered herself into the gray armchair and crossed her legs, her hands together on her knee.

  I kept signing. “Tucker told me he showed you a picture of Derek.”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “And he’s sooo cute. Might be the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.”

  My pen stilled because I focused on her instead of the papers I was signing. Like all parents, I loved to hear compliments about my son, was proud of him even though he hadn’t done anything.

  “He looks just like you. He has your hair, your eyes, everything. It’s amazing.”

  “Yes. He does.” I started to sign again.

  “You must be excited for your brother to move out in a few days.”

  I added the last signature before I reorganized the stack. “Yes. I prefer to live alone.”

  “At least you got to spend some time together.”

  Too much time together.

  She got to her feet and returned the papers to the envelope. “Where is he moving?”

  “A few blocks away, actually.”

  “Oh, that’s great. It must be nice to have family in the city.”

  I was happy he was there, even if I was a bit annoyed with him at the moment. He had it bad for Cleo, and I was sick of hearing about it.

  “Any luck with Derek?”

  I shook my head. After my last conversation with Valerie, I needed a break. I took Cleo’s advice and decided to let Valerie calm down before I tried again.

  “Do you have any other pictures you can show me?”

  I never used to have a personal photo on my home screen, keeping it neutral in case anyone saw it. But as the weeks passed and I missed him more and more, I put a picture of both of us on the screen, so I could see it every time I looked at my phone.

  I unlocked the screen and slid it toward her.

  She lifted it to her face, immediately smiling at the photo of the two of us. It was an image of Derek with his small fishing pole, wearing a dark green hat and a sweater. I kneeled down beside him with my own rod. With me on my knees, he was still barely my height, and my arm was wrapped around him as we both smiled at the camera.

  She stared for a while before she lifted her gaze and looked at me. “You have a really nice smile.”

  I held her gaze.

  She turned back to the picture before she set the phone down. “That’s a very cute photo. Thank you for sharing.”

  “Sure.” I pulled the phone back to me.

  “You guys fish?”

  I nodded. “I’m not a big fan, but he likes it.”

  “That’s cute.”

  “But I do love being in the
wilderness, in a cabin by the lake…away from people.”

  She gave me a sad smile. “Then you must really hate Manhattan.”

  I shrugged in response.

  “You know, I have a few clients who have cabins in Connecticut, right on the lake. It’s beautiful.”

  “Not worth the commute.” I worked all the time, even on the weekends. If there was a way for me to have it both ways, to work full time and be away from the city, I would do it in a heartbeat. But it just wasn’t possible.

  “Well, you could take weekend trips out there.”

  “I don’t have a lot of free time.”

  “Well, when Derek comes out for a visit, that would be a nice place for him to visit.”

  There was nothing I wanted more than to spend time with my son in the forest, just the two of us.

  She must have spotted the sadness in my eyes because she said, “It’ll work out, Deacon. I know it will.”

  I wasn’t convinced, but I didn’t have the luxury of being emotional at work. I had a job to do. I couldn’t be weighed down by things I couldn’t change. “I should get back to work.” I turned back to my computer.

  “Alright.” She hugged the envelope to her chest. “I’ll have these taken care of. Anything else you need me to do?”

  “No.”

  She gave me a slight smile before she turned away. “See you later.”

  My eyes flicked back to her, watching her elegant figure move to the door. She had a narrow waist, long legs, and an ass that looked nice in anything she wore. I hadn’t even noticed I was staring, admiring her perky ass in the same way my brother did, so I forced myself to look away.

  Thirteen

  Cleo

  I entered the apartment with Matt in tow. “Sad to be leaving this place?”

  Matt stepped into the bedroom to collect the bags and bring them downstairs to the car.

  Tucker was in jeans and blue shirt, the fabric tight on his arms just the way it was with Deacon’s. He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at me, having the same height as his brother. “Am I going to miss living in a beautiful condo? Absolutely. Am I going to miss living with my brother? Absolutely not.”

  I chuckled, finding him much easier to talk to than Deacon. Tucker could make me laugh, make interactions easy because he actually spoke his mind. Deacon was like a Rubik’s cube that needed to be solved every single time we were together. “You will have roommates?”

  “No,” he said with a chuckle. “But living with anyone else would be easier than living with Deacon.”

  “He seems pretty quiet to me.”

  “But I have to watch what I say. He takes everything literally, so a simple conversation quickly turns into an interrogation where he insults my choice of words. He’s a great guy, but small doses of him are ideal for me. I’m not sure how you handle him all the time, especially since he likes you.”

  “He said that?” I asked in surprise.

  “Not in those exact words, but you can’t be considered a friend unless he does.”

  Deacon was still quiet with me, saying very little. I wasn’t sure if he was just comfortable around me to where he felt he could be himself. There were times when he had full conversations with me, and those were fascinating because everything that came out of his mouth was riveting. “How do you handle him?”

  “He’s really not that hard. Yes, I would like it if he were a little more verbal with me sometimes, but I know he’s just misunderstood…so I stay patient. He’s a good man, and I have no problem taking extra time to help a good person.”

  “Yeah, you aren’t wrong about that. His brain is humongous, but so is his heart.”

  I melted at the compliment, loving that description. “I only represent clients in the building, but if you ever need help with anything, you can always call. You’re new to the city, and I can give you a lot of tips on how to survive here.”

  “That’s really nice. Thank you.”

  Matt walked past us and carried all the bags into the hallway and to the elevator.

  “Well, good luck.” I extended my hand to shake his.

  He took it, but instead of giving me a proper handshake, he just gave me a slight squeeze, a gentle touch that lasted longer than it should. His smile faded, and he slowly pulled his hand away.

  There was definitely a jolt of electricity there, some chemistry.

  “I was wondering if I could take you to dinner on Thursday. You know, as a thank you for everything you’ve done for me over the last few weeks.”

  Did he just ask me out?

  “We could even go to Taco Bell if you want,” he said with a laugh. “I mean, I’m not going to say no to that.” He slid his hands into his pockets and continued to stare at me, having a similar expression to Deacon’s, an intensity that was easy to produce.

  I didn’t know what to say. I had not been expecting this.

  He waited patiently, giving me a few seconds to process what just happened.

  “Uh…”

  “Come on, I can’t be that bad,” he said to break the ice. “I’m sure billionaires ask you out all the time, but I’m a pretty cool guy. I can afford to take you somewhere nice. We don’t have to go to Taco Bell.”

  “No, I just…wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Well, I think you’re cool…and really hot.”

  My cheeks immediately blushed at his bluntness.

  “And we’re in the same line of business, hospitality. I’m sure we have a lot in common.”

  I still didn’t know what to say. “I’m very flattered, but…I don’t date my clients. It’s kind of a big rule in my profession.”

  “Well, I’m moving out in about five seconds, so I’m not your client anymore.”

  That was true. “I don’t know… Deacon is my client—”

  “He said he was fine with it.”

  “He did?” All of this was happening so fast that I really didn’t have the time to think about everything, to control my emotions before they escaped in my voice. There was disappointment there…although I didn’t know why. I was surprised they’d had that conversation in private, that Tucker expressed interest in me and Deacon didn’t care. It just…bothered me.

  “Yeah.” He stared at me again expectantly, waiting for an answer.

  “I…I need to talk to Deacon about it.”

  He smiled. “So, that’s a maybe?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Great.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together slightly. “Give me a call.”

  A few days passed before I saw Deacon again.

  He was one of my easiest clients, not requiring much. He didn’t make demands late in the day, asking me to make a run to the store because he was hosting a dinner party. He needed the same things on a schedule, so his life was predictable and easy to manage.

  I’d thought about Tucker’s proposition, but it was hard to visualize us on a date when Deacon was part of the picture. He didn’t think that would be weird? If Tucker and I ended up together and then broke up? He just…didn’t care? I would have expected him to reject the idea immediately, at least for professional reasons.

  I wasn’t sure why it bothered me so much.

  After my shitshow with Jake, I knew I would never have another romantic relationship with a client. Lesson learned. So, I knew I didn’t see Deacon that way. And apparently…he didn’t see me that way either.

  I went to his penthouse to deliver the mail, expecting him to be at work because it was early in the afternoon. But he was sitting at the dining table, in his sweatpants, his computer in front of him. The sun filtered through the window, showing the brown color of his hair when it was directly in the sunlight.

  I stared at him for a second, admiring his strong physique, the way his arms were so cut they were like two sculptures. He hadn’t shaved for a few days, so his beard was starting to come in, to give him a dark look that matched his personality. Even when he sat in the chair, his stomach was tight, his ei
ght-pack working despite being at rest. His chin rested on his fingers as he read his document on the screen, his fingertips absentmindedly brushing across his lips while he focused.

  I cleared my throat and approached the table.

  He straightened against the chair and looked at me.

  I set the piles of mail on the surface. “I know we talked about this before and you made your position very clear, but I can handle all this for you if you’d like.”

  He gave me the same stare.

  I held up the bills. “Your electricity, gas, cable, etc. If you give me a checkbook, I can handle it for you. Some of my clients set up a whole new account with a small amount of cash. That way, it’s separate from their other finances. Just to make everything easier.”

  He thought about the suggestion in silence, his dark eyes staring at me with that same focused expression. “Yes.”

  “You want me to handle that for you?” I asked to clarify.

  He left the dining table and walked into his office. He returned with a checkbook and tossed it onto the table before he sat down again, all the muscles of his body shifting and moving to handle his heavy frame. He was on the lean side, but with those muscles, he had to be almost two hundred pounds.

  Two hundred pounds of all man.

  He turned back to his computer.

  I grabbed the checkbook. “Is this a small account?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to—”

  “I trust you.” He turned back to me, giving me his gaze again.

  I heard what he said, and he had no idea how much those words meant to me, how much I strived to gain the confidence of my clients, to know they could rely on me to have their best interests at heart. He had been such a jerk to me when I’d offered to do this months ago, and now he had a completely different reaction. “Thank you…” I took the checkbook and the bills that I’d just laid down.

  He continued to stare at me.

  “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about…” I pulled out the chair and took a seat.

  He watched me, his dark eyes a little lighter when the sunlight drenched his face.