One Indecent Night

by Hargrove, A. M.

  “All the houses he what?”

  “Again, I don’t need to be running my mouth. That’s his business, not mine.”

  “When he was growing his business, did you know about it?”

  “Well yeah, because initially, I helped him with some of the legal documents until he became too large and had to hire a firm that specialized in corporate law. But he still keeps me apprised of things. Sometimes, he runs ideas by me and bounces them off me too.”

  It was obvious Pearson was in Evan’s inner circle. “What kind of ideas?”

  “Sylvie, I can’t tell you everything. If you want to know, ask Evan. In fact, I feel as though I’m betraying him.”

  “Betraying him? How?”

  “I can’t explain. But if you want to know anything else, you’ll have to ask him.”

  I traced my finger along the edge of the table, wondering if he’d answer my next question. “Can you at least tell me this? Has he ever been in a serious relationship?”

  Pearson groaned. “Sylvie.”

  “Come on, Pearson, that’s something I should know, don’t you think? I mean, look what Rose knew about you. I told her all sorts of stuff, building you up.”

  “Yeah, but she had a fucking file on me too.”

  I wanted to shrivel in my chair because he was right, but still. I had rooted for him in that relationship and did my best to encourage it.

  “True, but I didn’t have to say all the positive things about you that I did. If it hadn’t been for me, you two would still hate each other.”

  That grabbed his attention, because he knew I was probably right. Rose and Pearson had an interesting story, one that was best told by them. I was sounding like Pearson now.

  “Okay. Yes, he was in one serious relationship and it ended very badly. It nearly ruined him.”

  My hands went straight to my chest, overlapping each other. “Oh, that’s awful.”

  “It was. I didn’t think he’d ever have anything to do with another woman again. That’s when he went on his spree of, well, one and dones. Ever since, he’s wanted nothing to do with women long term. That’s why I went crazy when I heard you’d been seeing him.”

  Now it makes so much more sense. “Why didn’t you explain this in the first place?” I ask, leaning back in the chair. It makes me think about some of the things he’s said. The times we were together, he acted so sincere, and I believed him. If Pearson hadn’t been his best friend, I would have more doubts, but I knew he was being honest. He wouldn’t go to those extremes if he’d wanted a one-nighter. He’d had his chance to walk away after St. Lucia and hadn’t.

  “Why are you frowning? Those creases in your brow are so deep someone could hide in them,” Pearson said, breaking into my thoughts.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing my ass.”

  Thank God, the waiter arrived at that moment with our food. At least I could conjure up something to tell Pearson. But what?

  As soon as he left, I dug in, saying, “I’m starving.”

  Pearson’s expression screamed bullshit. Then he said, “Don’t worry, Sylvie, I’ll wait for your answer until after we eat.”

  I about choked on my salad. When he started to get out of his chair to maybe do the Heimlich, I held out my hand and grabbed my water. After a healthy gulp or two, I said, “Just went down wrong. I’m fine.”

  “Uh huh. And why is your face so red?”

  “Coughing. Doesn’t it make your face red?” I answered, and then continued eating.

  As promised, when we were finished, he said, “So, why the frown?”

  There was no use keeping it from him. “Evan has not been treating me as a one nighter, even though I’ve given him every opportunity to do so. In fact, he’s the absolute opposite. The night of your reception, I was completely out of my mind drunk.”

  “I seem to remember that,” he said wryly. “You were yelling at everyone to do those silly chain dances.”

  “Yeah, that and other things too, apparently. Evan said I jumped on his back and slapped his ass and yelled giddy-up.”

  “Damn, I’m actually a little sorry I missed that.”

  “Don’t be. I lost an expensive pair of shoes too. But you know we spent the night together, right?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t sound too happy about it.

  “Look, I wasn’t happy about it either. In fact, I’d made up my mind not to see him again. But he was so persistent, he broke me.”

  “Broke you?”

  “Yeah. He made me cave.”

  Pearson didn’t say anything.

  “Well?”

  “I’m speechless. This is not the Evan I know.”

  “After what you told me, that’s what I was thinking. Have you talked to him?”

  “Yeah. I apologized. But I’m not getting into what else we discussed.”

  I raised both my hands and almost laughed because I sort of looked like he was arresting me. “That’s fine. I don’t want to know. But maybe he’s changed.”

  “Sylvie, go easy on him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He was totally destroyed in his last relationship. He’s fragile where his heart is concerned. On the outside, he appears strong and hardened, but that’s only a facade. If you break through his walls, and I think you already have, you need to go easy with him.”

  Pearson scared me. What if I wasn’t strong enough, or what if I wasn’t good enough for him? And what about my heart? What if I let him in and he broke me? There was only one way to find out.

  Seventeen

  Evan

  At ten in the morning on the dot, I arrived at Sylvie’s. When I knocked on the door, she was waiting for me.

  “This seems a bit silly, you driving out here to pick me up. I could’ve easily taken the train in and met you,” she said.

  “Not a chance. By the way, let me check out your nose.” I tipped her chin up with my index finger and took a long look at her.

  “Pretty bad, isn’t it?”

  “Not at all. Other than the bruising, which is fading fast, I was going to say it looks much better. Especially now the huge bandage is gone.”

  She opened up her bag and pulled out a large pair of sunglasses. “I have the perfect disguise.” She put them on, and they hid a lot of the purplish discoloring around her eyes. “See?”

  “Don’t those hurt your nose?”

  “Not at all, and the splint helps. I get it off this week”.

  “Well, you don’t need to hide behind those, but I understand if it makes you feel better. You ready?” I held my hand out and she put hers in mine. Admittedly, I adored this simple gesture.

  We walked out to the limo where Robert waited. He opened the door for us as we slid inside. I didn’t have to tell him where to take us.

  Along the way, we talked about our busy week. It was funny how even though we’d spoken every night, there were things we found to talk about that were unimportant, but interesting nevertheless.

  We arrived at the Empire State Building and she made sure her phone was ready for photos. Once at the top, she took tons of pictures and then selfies of the two of us.

  “I can’t believe you’ve never been here,” I said.

  She frowned. “I’ve been here plenty of times.”

  “Then why was it so important to come?”

  A perfect smile spread across her gorgeous face. “Because I’ve always thought this is one of the most romantic places in New York.”

  My heart stuttered in my chest. “Right here?”

  “Why, yes. Take a look. The view is magnificent. Even though there are crowds of people, it still seems so intimate somehow.”

  Glancing around, I absorbed the view. I’d been here before but had taken it for granted. Sylvie was right. It was magnificent. You could see for miles in every direction and it was breathtaking. Until I lasered in on the one thing that was even more important—Sylvie. I leaned down and brushed my lips over hers, surprising her a bit.
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br />   “You’re right. This is romantic, but the view is paled by you.”

  She gaped. I didn’t wait for an argument, because I had a feeling one would come. Instead, I took her hand and moved toward the elevators. We waited in line and her eyes singed me. I grinned, not because I’d shocked or surprised her, but because I’d hopefully made this even more romantic for her.

  When we walked outside into the cool November air, I put my arm around her, holding her close. We only had to wait a couple of minutes before Robert showed up. Our next stop was the Statue of Liberty. It wasn’t the actual tour though. My boat would take us out and circle it so we would be as close as possible.

  Robert drove us to Battery Park where the marina was, and we exited the car.

  “I’ll text you in a few hours.”

  “Yes, sir.” He drove off.

  A confused Sylvie asked, “What are we doing here?”

  “You’ll see.”

  I escorted her to my boat. Well, that wasn’t quite what it was. It was a yacht. We walked down the dock and there she sat. The StarLady. I’m not sure if Sylvie noticed the name, but I didn’t say a word.

  She did act surprised when we walked aboard and I introduced her to the captain and four-man crew, who would be serving us today. We’d be having lunch aboard.

  Then we went on a tour, and she asked, “Do you own this?”

  “I do.”

  We heard the sounds of the engines rumble to life and she inquired, “Where are we going?”

  “To Bermuda, of course.”

  A look of panic settled over her. “I can’t go to Bermuda! I have to work on Monday.”

  I laughed. “Sylvie, I was joking. We’re going on a tour around the Statue of Liberty.”

  She playfully punched my arm. “I’m gonna kill you. You sounded so serious.”

  “We could do the islands sometime. Or the Mediterranean. I have another yacht that’s anchored elsewhere.”

  “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? What else do you have hidden in your back pocket? A Harry Potter magic wand?” She leaned around me, trying to see behind me.

  I held up both hands. “No wand, I promise.” We continued with the tour and I showed her the main stateroom, which was fairly plush, having a king bed with an ensuite. I’d made sure when the yacht was designed that the bathroom was spacious. I wasn’t going to pay the price if I didn’t have a decent bathroom. There were several other staterooms, but they weren’t as elegant or spacious as mine, but they were very nice. There was a dining room, a couple of living areas, viewing area top deck, and an office for me to conduct business in, if necessary. There were outside gathering areas as well, but we’d be mostly inside today, as it was November and too chilly to stay out too long. There was also a kitchen and rooms for the crew.

  “This is amazing,” she said.

  One of the crew appeared and asked if we wanted something to drink. We both requested coffee and went to one of the living areas where it was served.

  “So, Evan, exactly how many homes and yachts do you own? I’m not asking because I’m into all that, I just don’t want to get blindsided again.”

  “I thought of it more as a surprise.”

  “A surprise is when you give someone a cake or a party. Showing someone your yacht is a little more than that.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “It kind of makes me feel uncomfortable.”

  “Uncomfortable? How?”

  “Because it’s way out of my league.”

  I took both of her hands in mine. “This is exactly what I adore about you. You don’t care about these things. Every other woman I’ve been with only wants this. You are the only woman I’ve ever considered taking home. No one, and I mean no one, except for Pearson, my parents, Robert, my housekeeper, and the head of security at my company knows where I live. I keep a dummy apartment in the city as a decoy.”

  She looked horrified. “Why would you do that?”

  “To keep the wolves at bay. The paparazzi are often in my face when I go out. You saw it when I went to that gallery showing. They had Jessica and me married off years ago. They hang outside that apartment building to catch me.”

  Her expression was telling me to stop talking, but since I started, I might as well tell her everything.

  “When you’re famous on Wall Street, everyone wants a piece of you. The vultures come out, trying to eat you alive. I’ve set things up to guard against that. What you see on the internet is what I want people to see. It’s basically my CV. If someone is looking for me to buy out their organization, they need my information. Of course they’ll run financials and other things, but their initial search will come from the internet. I want them to see I’m a viable businessman. Other than that, and what the paparazzi has, there is no personal information available. I have someone constantly sweeping it to keep my data clean. If I go out, I never use my real name either.”

  “But you did when we went to dinner the other night and to the nightclub. Or I think you did.”

  “Sylvie, I own both of those places.”

  “I see.”

  She was very quiet.

  “Are you angry?”

  “No.” She squeezed my hand. “I actually kind of feel sorry for you.”

  I chuckled. “I expected a lot, but not that.”

  “It would be awful hiding all the time.”

  “The way it’s set now, I’m not really hiding anymore. I’m free to go and do as I please.”

  She sighed. “That’s good. For a minute, I was worried about you.”

  I told her the story of my business, how I never expected it to grow to this level. It surprised me, but then again, I worked my ass off for it too. Things fell into place, year after year. I was demanding, but fair, to my employees, and I never expected more out of them than I expected out of myself. They were told up front, and still are, and if they couldn’t handle it, they were sent on their way with a hefty severance package. Everyone signed a no-compete clause when they came to work with me, because we did things differently at StarWorks. We worked harder and smarter than most organizations and I wanted to keep that in house. I’d only lost a few people over the years, and they ended up leaving the business entirely.

  “You’re remarkable, Evan.”

  “No, just a hard worker. I’m telling you this for a reason. Full disclosure, you might say. I want us to be together. I’d like for us to see each other consistently, as in more than the occasional date. I haven’t felt like this about someone in a very long time and I’d love to explore these feelings with you.”

  “I would too. I confess it’s a little daunting, being with you though.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re so huge.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Her face turned bright pink and it was so adorable I wanted to kiss her right then.

  “Not that! Your persona.”

  “I rather liked the idea of the other,” I said with mirth.

  “Stop! Be serious for a moment.”

  “All right.”

  “I’m very much afraid of getting hurt,” she said.

  I glanced at my shoes. If she only knew. “You’re not the only one. But how will we ever know if we don’t try?”

  “We won’t.” She circled a finger over the knee of her jeans.

  “And what if we miss the greatest chance at love?”

  “We’d both regret it forever?”

  “I think so.” I picked up my coffee mug and handed hers to her. “Here’s to not regretting anything.”

  We clinked our mugs together and I prayed this would go better than my last relationship. It had to or I wouldn’t survive.

  Eighteen

  Sylvie

  When our mugs clinked together, something clicked into place. I wanted this relationship to work. I hoped what was between us would blossom into something greater. Even though his wealth and lifestyle freaked me out, maybe I could get used to it after a while.


  “Do you mind telling me where your other houses are? At least I can get all of this over in one session.”

  “Spoken like a psychologist.”

  “Oh, God. That did sound bad.”

  “Not really.”

  “Evan, I was raised totally middle class, so all of this is terribly intimidating,” I said, extending an arm out.

  He took my arm, pulled it in and then folded his hand so he could press a kiss onto it.

  “I understand, because I was raised the same way. I never intended to be this wealthy. It just happened. But I’ll tell you about my homes. I love to ski, so I have a place in Vail, but I’ve been thinking about selling it to buy something else.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. I’ve been skiing at Vail for so many years now, I think it’s time to go somewhere else. Maybe Utah. I’m still trying to figure it out. Do you ski?”

  “A little, if you can call it that.”

  He grinned. “Can you explain?”

  “I used to go in college to those small ski places near Syracuse. I was sort of a bunny hiller.”

  “And I bet you had a lot of guys chasing you down the bunny hills.”

  “I had a steady boyfriend back then, so no.”

  “Have you ever been out west skiing?”

  “No, but I’ve always wanted to.”

  “Then we’ll go. Maybe over Thanksgiving, if your family will approve.”

  “My family. It’s more my mom. She’ll throw a fit, then say it’s okay. And to that, I can’t believe Thanksgiving is next Thursday. What about your other homes? Where are they?”

  “There’s one other in the Caribbean. On Canouan.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “It’s small, part of the Windward Islands, past St. Lucia. I offered it to Pearson and Rose when they got married, but the house wasn’t big enough for their reception and the island is pretty exclusive and difficult to get to, so they decided on St. Lucia instead.”