So had I. Wendy Baranski’s prognosis was grim.
Helen efficiently packed her materials. “Franklin should be here in fifteen minutes. Is there anything else you need?”
“Have a good night, Helen.”
I didn’t look through the folder. I knew how much a year at Golden Meadows cost. Had done the calculations. The trust fund wouldn’t last long and that was if Mara didn’t use any of it for her living expenses.
I rubbed my chest. Kicking her out of the club that night nearly two months ago would’ve been best.
Could an old man really be BFFs with a twenty-five-year-old woman?
She’d compared me to my mother.
On cue, my phone rang.
“What, Mom?”
“Is that how you address the woman who birthed you?”
When she’s only interested in money, yes. “Are you calling to check on how I’m doing, like a real mom?”
“I know you’re doing fine, Wesley. You’re my son.”
My mouth quirked. Good one. “Was Sam ever…did he go after younger women?”
“Sam never left work long enough to chase women. But he was a man. I’m sure he would’ve liked them young.”
Didn’t answer my question.
“What brought that question on? Prospective siblings coming out of the woodwork now that news of his fortune going to you is out?” She chortled. “Little do they know— Well, you should have paternity done before anything.”
Little did they know what? “No. I just don’t know why he’d cut me off after the divorce but leave everything to me.”
My mom went quiet. Unusual for her. I waited for the derogatory dig about my father, but nothing.
“He couldn’t get over his bitterness, Wes. It’s not your fault.”
Color me shocked that my mother had said something halfway meant to comfort me. She’d always blown it off as Sam’s reaction to the divorce and taking it out on me. This was the first time I’d believed her.
“Did you hear about the cold front coming through?” she continued. “We might get snow and it’s not even December. Have you thought more about the villa?”
“If you want to do it, go for it.” With your own money.
“You know I can’t afford it. Wesley, the winters are harder and harder for me to get through.”
Wow. She sounded serious.
“And since you never invite me over and never meet me out, I might as well not stay in Minnesota.”
Someone knocked on the door. Probably Franklin.
“All right, Mom. I’ve gotta go. Why don’t you stop by sometime this weekend and we’ll talk.”
I barely got her off the phone without hanging up on her, but not even I hung up on my mom.
“Come on in, Franklin.”
Sam’s old assistant scurried in. “Good news, Mr. Robson. Johnson, Harwood, and Crest dropped their suit against Robson Industries.”
“What?”
Franklin’s gray brows shot up. I hadn’t sounded happy. Admittedly, my first thought was that I wouldn’t see Mara again. She’d be at the proceedings—I’d hoped.
“It’s over,” Franklin echoed his thoughts. “We must, however, discuss New York.”
I listened in a daze, giving a grunt to affirm Franklin’s actions. Combined with Helen’s earlier news about the city, the dropped lawsuit finalized the last business I had with Mara Baranski.
It was over.
Chapter 20
Mara
I clasped my sweaty palms. I was perspiring in my new business suit, and dang it, it was dry-clean only. TGIF, though.
Enduring my third interview of the week, I smiled politely and answered every question as confidently as possible. No job history as an executive assistant, but I still had experience.
A glance out the window gave me the view of another twenty-floor office building with a face of glass. So city, so refined. I’d grown up here, but downtown Minneapolis was nothing like the little area I’d lived in.
“You owned your own business?” the woman from the three-person interview panel asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” I coveted the woman’s bottle of water.
The young man who had to be close to my age asked the next question. “Going from running your place, to helping someone else run a business…”
I hated explaining my work history. Technically, my business hadn’t failed. I’d formed a succinct answer early on, lest they think I’d run it into the ground. “I leased space in a building owned by Robson Industries, and when his son took over, he had other plans for the property.”
The older woman popped her head up from Mara’s papers. “Is that the lot by Mr. Robson’s office tower?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled. “What a coincidence. Mr. Robson owns this building, as well.”
My smile drooped.
One of the men snorted. “Give him enough time and he’ll own half the city.”
The interview wrapped up after several more questions and too many “I don’t have the answer, but I’ll make sure I find out” answers.
I drove home, numb from yet another interview pointing out my lack of experience and a college degree.
I was sadly underqualified for every job I’d interviewed for. Hard work and ambition only went so far. Desperation was pushing out the worry of working for another man who’d take advantage of me.
As soon as I changed into pajamas, I jumped online to research who owned all of the buildings where the companies I’d met with were located. Two out of three.
What if they hired me and Wes found out? Then I’d have to apply at places who were Robson-independent.
Two more meetings set up next week. One was in the same building as another place I’d been in. Owned by Robson Industries.
Was I going to be screening every possible employment opportunity?
Ridiculous. I was an adult and so was he.
Could I blame him? He didn’t trust me over Sam, and then I’d made myself a nuisance with the help of Chris and Ephraim. It was over and done—and he held all the power. I refused to cower in the shadow of Wes Robson and let it affect my ability to get a damn job. So I knew who he was. We’d had a relationship. I could talk to him like an adult and he could suck it up. But at least I’d know if I had any limitations in regards to job hunting.
I checked the time. Friday night. Would he be at Canon?
Talking myself out of it wasn’t worth the stress during job hunting. I changed into the same outfit I’d worn that first night and with another round of sweaty palms, I drove to Canon.
The same bouncer stood guard and I received a more appreciative look than last time. Must be the hair. It was still pinned up in a French bun and as I passed a mirrored column, my new highlights gleamed under the marquis lights.
Like last time, I went straight to the bar. Same bartender. Could this night get any more déjà vu?
“What’ll you have?” He set a coaster in front of me.
“I’ll have the pop star’s wine and I need to talk to Wes.”
He rewarded my courage with a bored blink. “He’s not here. I’ll get your drink.”
As he poured my wine, he got on the phone.
Yes. Wes was at the club.
Wes
After meeting with Franklin, I had headed to Canon, but since I’d been doing nothing but working, I had nothing to do.
I’m sure playing League of Legends on a Friday night was exactly what most twenty-eight-year-olds did. Flynn interrupted his game with a message that he’d be here soon with dinner because I was under orders not to “fuck around” until I had my “sad-sack shit together.”
The bartender called. “A hot chick wants to talk to you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Is it the desperate blonde again?”
“This one’s fine. Better quality than the wine she ordered.”
I hung up and stared at the door. Could it be?
When I’d met her, she’d joked about
what she was drinking.
With slow precision, I opened my door and walked down the dark hallway to the entrance to the main area.
I stepped out, but the mirrored pillars scattered throughout the place blocked my view. Patrons moved out of my way, but I noticed no one. My gaze swept the bar and I saved the seat I’d first seen her in for last.
The breath whooshed out of my lungs. Her beauty had struck me down before, but the sophisticated lady perched on the barstool, with a hairdo that bared her slender neck, was a work of art.
No more makeup enhanced her features than before. The outfit was the same and while it highlighted all her curves, I preferred her Batman leggings.
I came to a stop behind her, not sitting like before because look how that had turned out. “Mara.”
She slowly twisted with a hesitant smile. “Can we talk?”
“About what?”
Her gaze fell from me and she scanned the people around us. She opened her mouth to talk. No, I craved privacy with her.
“Come with me.” I turned, knowing I was fueling staff gossip about the lady I’d brought back to my office.
Once we were behind a closed door, I wondered how she saw the first private environment of mine she’d been in. Modern, sleek, stark, and barren. No personal touches.
No different than my public spaces, like my plane, which certainly hadn’t impressed her.
To put space between us, I went around the desk and took a seat. She sat on the edge of the chair Flynn usually used.
“How’s job hunting going?”
She grimaced. “I’m here to discuss it.”
A fifty-pound weight settled on my chest. She was here to use me.
“I’ve been interviewing and it was pointed out to me that you own a few of the buildings where I was meeting possible employers. I want to know if that’ll be a problem.”
The weight lifted.
She held her hand up. “Before you answer, I’m not saying this to sway you, but I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have tried to cause problems and delays for you. It was an immature move. With the…history…between us, I want to know beforehand if I should pursue businesses that are free and clear of you.”
“It won’t be a problem.” My guilt flared. She was out of work because of me. “I can call and put in a good word for you.”
“Yeah, no. You don’t know the first thing about how well I perform at work.” She spiked an adorable blush as she said “perform.” “And that is the last thing I’d ask of you.”
We fell quiet for a few moments.
“How’s Wendy?”
“Mom’s stable.”
“Did you tell her—about everything?”
Mara shook her head. “Stress isn’t good for Mom. I gave her a general overview. Funny, because it helped me form a canned response when I’m asked during interviews. I haven’t told her we quit seeing each other yet, but I will on my Sunday visit.”
So when I suddenly felt like a pile of shit on Sunday, I’d know the reason why. Wendy's learning of my deception didn’t sit well with me. “What kind of work are you looking for?”
“Anything. I might pick up a waitressing job while waiting for a higher-paying company with better benefits to hire me.”
With my luck with Mara, I’d probably bring a date to the place she worked and get seated in her section. Dating again wasn’t appealing, but now it scared me.
“Well.” Mara tapped her thighs. “I’d better get going.”
I made it to the other side of my desk by the time she rose. “Look, we don’t have to…”
Words faded with the hopeless glint in her eyes. “Goodbye, Wes.”
My feet were cemented to the floor. She rested her hand on the doorknob and stalled. “There is something else I should talk to you about. It’s about Sam.”
A cold splash of water. “What about him?”
“We talked, about you, and he never came out and said it, but—”
The door whipped open. Mara stumbled back, losing her balance in her heels. Two steps and I caught her in my arms.
“I’ve got chow—whoa.” Flynn stared at us, stunned while holding two trays.
Mara righted herself and pulled away. “Thank you.”
“Hey, Flynn. I’ll be right back. I need a minute with Mara.” My hand on her back felt too right as I ushered her outside of the office. I shut the door behind me. “Can you come to my place tomorrow?”
Her place was a no, and she’d know why. Too many stupendously erotic memories.
“That guy’s your friend?” Suspicion dripped from her words.
I wanted to strangle Flynn for his store visit. “I had no idea he planned to stop in and hit on you. He was just looking out for me.”
She shook her head like she couldn’t believe it. “Meet at your offices downtown?”
“No, my home.” My cold, barren home.
Brief hesitation and she nodded. “Text me the address. What time?”
Whatever she wanted to talk to me about overrode her caution about the two of us alone.
I got it. Any longer in my office and I’d repeat the on-the-counter move on my desk.
“Whenever, just let me know.”
Her hips swayed all the way down the hall, her shoulders held square. She was miles above any girl in the club.
Dangerous thoughts at a time when she’d finally decided to come clean about Sam. Like I was looking for any excuse to get close to her again and the betrayal mattered less and less.
Steeling myself, I returned to the office.
“You two are talking?” Flynn hadn’t made himself comfortable but stood where he’d been when I left.
“Yep.” And that was all I was telling Flynn that we’d done.
“You two…”
“She’s going to talk to me about Sam tomorrow.”
“Uh-huh.” Flynn set out the food and utensils. No greasy paper bags from my friend. “She’s…classier than last time.”
“She lost the edge for job hunting.”
“You sound disappointed.”
I was.
Chapter 21
Mara
I drove down a long drive with a giant brick mansion capping the end. This was the address he’d sent me. Since his phone number had been seared into my brain, I’d texted him a half hour ago to say I was on my way. Midmorning shouldn’t be too early or too late. I’d rather get this over with.
I parked and peered over the steering wheel. Glimmering blue behind the house reflected sunlight with its gentle waves.
He had a lake?
Back to the mansion. Much larger now that I was out of the car. Like Wes had told his realtor he wanted the biggest, most pretentious place available. And throw in a private body of water.
I stuffed the small gift I’d brought Wes into my coat pocket. Deciding when I’d give it to him had plagued me the whole drive.
Elegant stairs rose from the parking area and led to a porch with arches that graced the full length of the house. Precisely manicured shrubs rimmed the perimeter of the porch and the stairs I climbed.
Large, deciduous trees surrounded the property in a ring of protection. Their limbs were bare of leaves this time of year, but I could imagine their beauty in the middle of summer.
An intimidating door waited for me. The mansion could be the Death Star from my trembling hands.
The fear fueling my nerves? That would be Wes kicking a woman out as he invited me in.
Were we exclusive?
The willing bodies populating his club didn’t make me feel better, neither did how gorgeous they were. His friend Flynn didn’t look like a guy who settled. Between the two of them…
Didn’t matter anymore. I’d be done with Wes after our talk today and I wasn’t sure I was doing the right thing. Sam had only hinted, never outright said, but we’d talked enough that I’d pieced together the crux of Sam’s misery.
As I was staring at the door, wondering if I should knock, ring the b
ell, or if a formal butler was going to answer, it swung open.
With dismay, I greedily drank in the sight of a shirtless Wes with flannel pants draped low on his waist. Good grief, his body was sick.
“Did I wake you?” Stupid question. He’d obviously been waiting for me. I searched behind him, expecting a lingerie-clad hot body to strut by.
“I just finished working out.”
Yep, his slicked-back hair was shining from a recent shower and his designer soap certainly smelled more expensive than my discount bar.
He couldn’t get sexier if he paid a cool million for it.
I wore an old coat over a white, oversize T-shirt and leggings that looked like a DC comic wrapped around my skin.
Heat ignited as his gaze swept down my body. “Is that a legit comic?”
He squatted to read my clothes.
“Just a page from Wonder Woman.” I shifted my feet. The position we were in set off bursts of stills of us in similar positions.
He straightened, pure hunger radiating from him. “Come in.”
He didn’t move out of the way to make room for me, crowding me into the wall as he swung the door shut.
The sound echoed off the walls.
“Jeepers, this place is huge.”
I pushed past him, rubbernecking like I was in a museum. The atmosphere wasn’t much different. The interior design was a clash of old-world elegance and simple modern lines. No ostentatious colors, just earth tones that relaxed the eyeballs, yet didn’t invite one to go on in and get cozy.
“Every woman’s dream,” he said as if the woman would be with him for the house.
I frowned as I wandered out of the foyer and got my first full view of the main room. “Your TV screen is the size of my car.” I spun in a slow circle. “But no, I’d take my house over this. Except for the bathroom. The coziness of my place with the luxury of just one of the bathrooms in your Bruce Wayne mansion.”
“I don’t use these areas often.” He pointed to the right. “The garages are off the kitchen and the upper level has my bedroom, home office, and family room. I spend most of my time up there.”
First to Lie: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Unraveled Book 1) Page 15
