by Cole, Fiona
“No, he didn’t because I can handle it myself. I did handle it myself.”
His shoulders dropped, and his hand rubbed at his mouth, trying to hide his exasperated sigh. “I’ll have to re-read it. See if we got the most out of this contract.”
“What?” I breathed the word, barely able to speak past the frustration his doubt incurred.
“I’ve met Mr. Bergamo before. He’s a hell of a shark and knows what he’s doing.”
“So do I.”
He kept talking like he didn’t even hear me. “I’m sure he worked a better deal on his behalf. I’ll look it over.”
Oh, fuck this. Maybe my father never saw me as a shark in the boardroom because I let him take the lead, but I was done listening to him ramble about how I failed.
“He didn’t get a better deal,” I spoke loudly, so there was no doubt that it was time for him to hear me. “I know because I talked Mr. Brandt up ten percent. And no changes are needed because it’s my contract. End of story.”
Jake took that moment to walk in, stealing my father’s attention.
“Did you know about this?” My father asked not bothering to greet Jake.
Jake looked to me, and I continued to stand tall, I would not cower. This was my chance to force my father to hear me, and I wasn’t letting it go another second without him acknowledging what an asset I was for this company.
He moved to look over the paper still lying at the edge of the desk and didn’t allow any emotion to show.
“Yes, sir,” he answered easily. “Carina brought it to me.”
“Did you check it?”
Two things make Jake the go-to guy for my father: he’s fifty-percent owner since his father died, and he has a penis, making him supreme. Which he laughed about constantly because he claimed I was the more supreme worker any day of the week.
“I didn’t find a need to. She ran it through the proper legal channels before bringing it to me. I trust Carina and the work she does.”
Stupid hormones. That was the only excuse for the lump of emotion currently working its way up my throat. Jake was on my side at work, but I was missing it in my personal life, and having my father continuously question me didn’t help the despairing doubt. Before, I’d had Jake in both personal and business, but since our breakup, there’d been no one.
“Jesus,” my father’s head fell back. “We’re probably losing money.”
It’s like he didn’t hear a word me or Jake said.
Time to slap him with facts he couldn’t ignore.
“This is one of three projects I’ve taken on this past year.” He opened his mouth to interject, but I spoke over him. “Just this month, I’ve increased our revenue by thirty-two percent. All by myself, by offering only marketing projects.”
“Carina, you can’t just use our company’s name to take on solo projects without consulting the team.”
“I can, and I will.” My tone dropped into dangerous territory. He knew me well enough to know the signs of my patience thinning. “I didn’t consult the team because I didn’t need to. I utilized the correct resources to make smart decisions because I’m damn good at them.” Peanut chose that moment to kick, and I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. This past year, I’d lost part of myself. I did these projects behind my father’s back where before I’d have been strong and stood my ground, but here in his office, I was reclaiming a bit of myself. “I’ve tried talking to you about this, but you always shut me down.”
“Because it’s silly.”
My blood pressure spiked. Sorry, Peanut. “It’s not. We’re missing out on a whole market that has already established business techniques and just needs marketing. I want to create a branch for that.”
“Now isn’t the time.” He gestured to my stomach like that justified everything. “Give it a couple of months. Maybe Jake and I can sit down with Owen and figure out if it’s worth it.”
“Of course it’s worth it,” I shouted, throwing my arms wide. “Look at the numbers.”
“Carina,” his soft, pleading tone was the only warning I needed, to know I wasn’t going to like what I heard. “You know how the business world works.”
“That it’s a man’s world,” I repeated his words back to him that I’d heard since high school. “But you raised me to hold my own in it, and it’s about damn time you realized I can. It’s time you realized that they should be scared of me.”
It was time I reminded myself of it. It was time I remembered I wasn’t just being a strong woman for myself, but for my child too.
“Carina…”
I looked back to Jake, and he remained stoic at my side, only giving me a minute nod of support. It was all I needed.
“I will not negotiate. I can submit my already-made business plan or my resignation, but I’m done with this.”
His jaw clenched tight, and his eyes sparked with hurt, but I ignored it. He pushed me here, and I was done waiting for him to come to my side.
“I need time to think about it.”
“Be fast, because I’m a hell of an adversary, and I don’t think you want me on the opposite side.”
I didn’t wait for a response. Instead, I stormed out and didn’t stop until I’d made it to my office.
“You okay?” Jake asked. I hadn’t realized he’d followed.
“Yeah, yeah.” I dragged trembling hands through my hair, the energy of the fight, leaving me weak. “Thank you for that.”
“Any time. You know I trust you and agree with moving the business forward. He just doesn’t want people walking all over his daughter.”
“Then he can come to meetings and watch me crush them like the tiny men they are.”
He laughed at my passion. “I always said you’re the real shark on this team.”
I laughed with him.
“Hey, I wanted to give you this,” he said, reaching into his suit pocket. “I know it’s soon, but I’d love to have you there.”
I opened the thick cream envelope and pulled out a beautiful, simple wedding invitation. And my heart dropped.
I didn’t want my heart to drop. I knew it wasn’t a rational reaction or one that even matched up with my thoughts. But when you’re with someone for as long as we were, your body reacts despite your mind, and mine just dropped my heart to my stomach seeing the two names boldly engraved on the card.
Jackson Fields and Jake Wellington.
Not Carina Russo and Jake Wellington.
Any confidence I’d gained earlier dimmed. Two names on a piece of paper and I shrank back into the woman I was after the breakup. I forced my most confident smile even though I knew it didn’t reach my eyes.
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
And I wouldn’t. Jake was my friend—my partner, even if he wasn’t my life partner anymore. I wouldn’t miss him getting married for anything.
He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to my forehead and left.
I dropped the envelope and pushed the feelings aside. I was just lonely, and maybe a little jealous.
But maybe I didn’t have to be alone right now. Not taking time to consider my fears, I picked up my phone and quickly sent out a message.
Me: Dinner at Nada tomorrow at seven?
Ian: I knew you couldn’t resist. ;*
Ian: Meet you there.
I rolled my eyes at his response.
But I also smiled.
7 Ian
Silverware chimed amongst the quiet hum of talking. The restaurant was too posh to be noisy.
But it all translated to white noise as I waited for my parents to arrive for lunch. Nothing was loud enough to break through the nervous chaos running rampant in my mind. I almost laughed at the situation I found myself in. A thirty-three-year-old man shaking in his boots, about to tell his parents he knocked a woman up, hoping they didn’t think too lowly of him. Jesus, could I be any more of a little boy hoping for their approval.
I knew one thing; they’d love Carina. She was strong a
nd put together.
My father’s salt and pepper hair stood tall above the other patrons entering the restaurant. My mother towed behind him as he broke through the waiting guests. When he approached the table, I stood, wiping my sweaty palms on my slacks before shaking his hand.
“Dad.”
“Son.”
My mother moved around him, and I still had to lean over for her to kiss my cheek, even when she wore her stilettos. How she balanced in them, I’d never know, but she vowed to wear them every chance she got, claiming she wore tennis shoes and scrubs enough that she had to dress up when she could.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Ian,” she held my face in her palms and looked me over, seeming to approve of what she saw because she released me and sat in the chair my dad pulled out for her. “How are you?”
I had to take a deep breath and put the reins on my nerves, demanding I shout it out. I didn’t want the first thing out of my mouth to ruin the meal before the appetizer. “I’m good. Staying busy. Nothing to complain about.”
Before we could continue the riveting conversation, our waitress came over, and we ordered.
“So, how was your trip?” I asked, getting the conversation going again. Sometimes, conversation between my parents and me could be stilted.
“It was good. Africa is always beautiful this time of year,” my father answered.
“We’re sorry we missed your birthday.”
Not only had they been gone—which was nothing new, they’d missed over half my birthdays—but they also hadn’t called until the following week. “It’s okay, Mom,” I answered on rote.
“Time just goes by so fast, and the dates blur together,” she explained.
“I understand.” I didn’t understand, but it was easier to just say I did.
“How’s Erik?” my dad asked, changing the subject.
“Good. He’s been happier with Alexandra.”
“It’s good he’s finally settling down.”
Somehow, I was always surprised they never asked if I was settling down. Was I so disinteresting to them to not even inquire?
I ground my jaw and took my opening, knowing it wouldn’t come from them. “Speaking of settling down, I called you here for a reason.”
Our waitress took that moment to bring us our food. After everything was situated, I began again.
“So…” With a deep breath, I laid it all out there the only way I knew how, with a little bit of light humor. “How do you feel about being grandparents? Because I’m nervous as hell about being a dad.”
I used my best business meeting smile and held my breath as two sets of wide eyes meet mine, their silverware dropping to their plates.
My mother was the first to recover. “I had no idea you were seeing anyone seriously.”
My dad cleared his throat. “That’s great. It’s about time you settled down. I’m assuming we didn’t miss the wedding?” he asked, his brows lowering, forming the deep grooves of disapproval.
I opened my mouth to correct him, but my parents were on a conversation roll, which meant I wouldn’t get many words in edgewise.
My mom slapped my dad’s arm, playfully. “Of course not.”
“Obviously, that will be remedied,” my dad said to my mom like I wasn’t even there, and they were so sure of my future. “So, when’s the big day?”
I thought about it and realized I didn’t even know when Carina was due. I did the math quickly in my head and figured she must be close to eight months along. “She’s due next month sometime.”
Again, my mom was the first one to see the missing connection. “Next month? Why are we just now hearing about this if she’s eight months pregnant?”
My dad might as well have not even heard her. “No, Ian. When’s the wedding? If you haven’t already set the date, maybe you can do it soon or closer to Christmas so we can be there without having to book an extra flight home.
Did he really just ask me to plan my future around their trip next month. I laughed softly, trying to hold on to my patience, but it was hard when he always managed to push my buttons. I didn’t even know why I was shocked by his comment. Their lives—their trips—always came first. I looked across the table at their expectant eyes, and my blood pressure rose.
“There’s no wedding, and we’re not together. The reason you’re just now hearing about it is because I found out about it not too long ago.”
“What?” My mother lifted a trembling hand to her lips like I’d announced I murdered puppies.
“It was a single date—”
“Another one of your one-night stands,” my dad sighed, and I struggled not to react to his disapproval.
“It was a single date, and she didn’t have a way to get a hold of me. We happened to run into each other yesterday, and to say I was shocked was an understatement.”
Just reliving the moment now had my head spinning, and my heart thumping harder. The image of her tall body, round belly, and wide blue eyes stole my breath all over again.
“Well, I’m not surprised. I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen eventually from you. You never take things seriously.”
“Except my business,” I defended with my jaw clamped.
My dad leaned across the table, leveling the same gray eyes as mine at me, letting me feel the full weight of his disappointment. “Life is more than one-night stands and work, Ian.”
“Seriously?” I asked, gesturing to the two people who left me alone most of the time to work.
“We’re a family,” he proclaimed, stabbing the table like he was making his point.
“No, you and Mom are a family. I’m just some trophy you leave on the shelf at home.”
“Boys,” my mom admonished. “Not here. Please.”
My father leaned back in his chair, but nothing in his stare changed.
“When do we get to meet her?” My mother’s overly chipper tone tried to break the tension, and it barely put a crack in it.
“I don’t know. I’m meeting her for dinner tonight to discuss where we go from here.”
“You marry her,” my father decreed. “That’s where you go. I didn’t raise you to abandon your kid. For once, Ian, try to be dependable to someone other than yourself.”
“You didn’t raise me.” It was a petulant comment, but he was pushing me hard.
“Ian, please,” my mom pleaded quietly. She knew she was just as guilty as my father for leaving me alone.
I dragged a hand down my face and blew out a hard breath. I tried to get my irritation under control, but when I looked across the table and saw the contempt on my father’s face, I knew this lunch was over. Neither of us was backing down, and he wouldn’t hear anything I had to say past this. We both needed to cool down before any more talking happened.
“I have to get back to work,” I said, tossing money on the table for more than my meal. “I’ll keep you updated on what I can.”
Without bothering to meet their eyes or stay for hugs from my mom, I bolted. I needed to get back to work, something I couldn’t be questioned on.
Back at the office, I sank into my chair, grateful to not have run into anyone. I wasn’t in the mood to chat or explain my sour attitude. I looked at the clock and saw it was just past two. That gave me plenty of time to get through my crowded inbox and tackle a few phone calls. I needed to be done before seven, so I could meet Carina for dinner.
God, my heart thundered in my chest, sending an electric current of excitement through my veins. I’d thought about her more than I wanted to admit over the past eight months. Hell, even before then, when I’d only spoken to her briefly in the bar last year. She’d been beautiful and hurting, and I’d wanted to be the man to make her feel better, but she’d turned me down, which had probably been the right choice. I’d been drinking my woes away too, after another argument with my parents.
But after having her, tasting her, touching her, knowing what her cries of pleasure felt like, what her heat felt li
ke wrapped around my cock, there was no coming back from that. I’d fucked a few women since then, but it’d been hard to concentrate on them, and Carina had always been there in the back of my mind. Now, I’d get to sit across from her for dinner and discuss our future.
The idea had a smile stretching my lips like a love-sick fool. Not that I loved her, but I loved that baby. I’d only rested my hand on her stomach, but the connection was there—the want and need were there. My dad could say all he wanted about me not being dependable, but that baby would know nothing other than devout devotion from me. It’d be the family I never had, and I couldn’t help but see Carina by my side in that image.
Maybe I’d leave work early and grab some flowers. The restaurant was just around the block, so I’d have plenty of time.
* * *
I hung up the phone, and dropped my head back on the leather seat, running my hand over my face. The phone call had gone on longer than I’d expected. Between the excruciatingly long conversation and my parents at lunch, my brain was fried. I was ready to power down my computer and go home, maybe drink and watch baseball until I passed out.
Just as my computer shut off, a woman came barreling in. She smiled as she prowled across the room, ocean blue eyes locked on me like I was fresh meat and she hadn’t eaten in years.
“Rebecca.”
One of the few women I’d had a repeat with over the past six months.
“Miss me?” she asked, rounding my desk.
Not really, but instead of answering, I gave her an easy smile. It wasn’t her fault; I just didn’t miss any of the women I fucked.
“Because I missed you.” She gripped the fabric of her pencil skirt at her hips when she stood before me and began bunching it up. “I happened to be in the area and thought, why not stop by for a quickie. You’ve always been up for that.”
She bared her creamy thighs exposed above her black lacy garters before she wedged her legs on either side of mine and straddled me. Immediately my hands moved to her hips to hold her steady, and she took the invitation to latch on to my neck, humming her approval.
