The Hidden Truths Series Box Set

Home > Other > The Hidden Truths Series Box Set > Page 5
The Hidden Truths Series Box Set Page 5

by Brittney Sahin


  Kate turned around and looked at Michael. He was leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees with his eyes on the floor. He seemed . . . different.

  “I was ten years old before he brought me to Charlotte. I never saw him cry until that day.”

  Michael looked up at her. “It’s hard losing someone.”

  Kate studied Michael for a beat. His mood had definitely changed. The warmth that had radiated from him before when he had heated her body with his gaze was gone.

  He was stone cold—steel.

  “I should get some sleep,” she whispered, feeling too heavy to speak anymore.

  “You gonna be okay?” He stood up and moved toward her, and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. The soft gesture didn’t match the now dark look in his eyes.

  “You don’t need to worry about me. You don’t know me.”

  The muscle in his jaw strained as he withdrew his hand from her face.

  She moved back to the windows and looked out, arms crossed. “Goodnight, Michael,” she said as their eyes met in the reflection of the glass.

  “Happy Birthday.” He paused in the open doorway for a moment, maybe he was unsure if he should leave her, but she sighed a breath of relief once the door closed.

  And her eyes became blurred by her tears as she sank to her knees.

  Chapter Five

  Kate glowered at her phone for the third time in the last minute. She was on the rooftop terrace of her hotel, trying to get some work done, but her brain kept drifting back to the text she had received the night before. Who had sent it? It had been a photo of her standing before her mother’s grave. No message, just like before.

  There was no way she would be able to convince herself that the text was from a pissed off event planner. But whom would it be? Who would want to stalk her?

  She shook her head. Ignore it. Do your job. She shoved her phone back in her bag and stared down at her tablet. The sun was beating down on her back, but the shade above the table allowed her to see the image on her device. She didn’t make it a habit of working outside, but the day was too beautiful to waste indoors, and she hoped the fresh air would help ease her suffocating anxiety. Still, she felt as though someone had a vice grip on her throat and was squeezing the life out of her.

  She couldn’t allow some crazy person to knock her off her game, though. She needed to finish the web design for the gala, hire a caterer and band, and wrap up many other details for the event. She was lucky the hotel had an in-house designer who could set up the ballroom at hyper speed, and in the way Kate had envisioned. But there was still so much more to do.

  She didn’t like weddings because they took too long—but hell, planning something in a week wasn’t what she had in mind, either.

  Kate had suggested to Julia to invite some of the veterans whom the Maddox Group had already helped to become success stories. She wanted some of them to speak about their experiences, hoping that the personal touch would entice more support from the deep-pocketed attendees. She thought it would also be a great opportunity for the veterans to network and meet potential investors.

  The fundraiser would raise money and awareness to help veterans and their families. It would bring in new investors to help launch businesses led by veterans. And, as Julia hoped, it would provide some relief for Michael as more individuals joined the cause.

  Kate knew that auctioning off Michael was a little gimmicky, but she also knew it was a surefire way to maximize attendance and rake in the dollars. A small smile wandered to her lips when she envisioned Michael in a tuxedo—for about the fiftieth time.

  She knew she’d have the same reaction that all the women at the gala would have—butterflies. Just like last night.

  For some absurd reason, she had longed for Michael’s muscular arms to wrap around her body, to protect her. She wanted to lose herself in his embrace, in the tingling sensation of desire that swept through her when she was near him. That was why she had needed him to leave her hotel room—she was beginning to doubt her ability to trust herself around him. Her body seemed to assume control and her mind took a distant second. Hell, more like a distant tenth.

  She’d been off her game since the moment she boarded the flight to Charlotte, in fact. It had to be because this was the city where her mother had died.

  Last night, she’d crossed a line by bringing him into her hotel room. She hadn’t been thinking straight. And when she opened up to him about her mom, he’d morphed into someone cold and broody. The man must’ve had his own issues.

  Kate startled at the sound of her phone.

  “Hi, Dad,” she finally answered.

  “I’ve been calling you for days. You didn’t even answer on your birthday.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy with a client.” She chewed on her bottom lip. It was a nervous habit she had developed when she was a kid.

  “I want you to come back home. I don’t want you in that God-forsaken city.” His voice sounded a little raw, or raspy. Had he been yelling recently?

  “Dad, I’m fine.” Am I? “I like it here.”

  Except for the fact that I have a stalker.

  Kate cleared her throat. “I, um, visited Mom’s grave yesterday.”

  Silence.

  “There were fresh flowers on the grave. Who do you think put them there? Do Grandma and Grandpa visit?” It seemed unlikely, however. Her grandparents had abandoned their home on Lake Norman days after her mother died. They never bothered to pack their belongings or sell the house—they just left. They had been living in Savannah, Georgia, ever since.

  It was all very . . . odd, to say the least. But anytime she would press the subject in the past her dad would brush the topic under the rug.

  “Dad.” Her eyebrows quirked with worry. “Dad?”

  “I want you to come home. Now.” His voice was edgy—rough.

  “The event is Saturday. I’ll be home shortly after that.” She exhaled a frustrated breath. “I understand why you hate this place. I know it’s hard for you, but I think—I think I might like to open a third location here. It would be good for business.”

  “And I really just want you to come home. Please, Kate, for me. Please, get the idea of Charlotte out of your head.”

  The line was dead.

  She stared at her phone, feeling guilt twist in her gut for upsetting her father. She set the phone on the table just as it began ringing again. It was an unknown number.

  She let it ring a few times before answering. “Hello?”

  “Kate, darling. How are you?”

  Relief flooded her when she recognized the voice. “Joseph, I’m so happy to hear from you.” She stood and walked toward the railing, looking down onto the street twelve stories below.

  “You’ll be even happier when I tell you that my plans have been canceled for next weekend. So, I’m free to cater your event. What were you thinking? Duck? Filet? Lamb?”

  Kate reveled in the good news. It was just what she needed. “I think duck and filet would both be great. I will email you the details. Thank you so much—I owe you big time.”

  “Anything for the beautiful Kate,” he said, his heavy Italian accent adding extra charm to the sentiment.

  Kate had known Joseph since her first solo event upon taking over her stepmother’s company. He had saved her then, and he was rescuing her from potential disaster now. She just hoped he wouldn’t hit on her again. “I’ll have one of my secretaries in New York arrange you and your team’s flight.”

  “I look forward to seeing you soon. I hope to steal a dance with you, as well. I assume there will be dancing?”

  “If I can get a band or orchestra in time.” She only wished she was joking. “See you soon. Thank you again. Ciao.”

  Thank God for something. She immediately texted Julia the good news. A few minutes later, her phone rang with the number from the Maddox office. Kate was impressed—Julia at work, even on a Sunday.

  “Hey, Julia. I’m so relieved we
were able to get such a fantastic chef on such short notice.”

  “Looks like you’re pulling this party off. I guess I’ll have to wear a monkey suit after all,” Michael responded, his voice light and friendly. The opposite of how he’d left her last night.

  “Oh. Hi, Michael. Sorry, I assumed it was Julia.”

  “I was just checking in on you. Wondered how you were doing.”

  Kate flushed with embarrassment. Why had she told Michael about her mom? “I’m sorry for diving into my issues with you. I don’t normally share my personal life with people.” She ran a hand through her long hair and shook her head, wishing she could erase last night’s conversation.

  “You don’t need to apologize.”

  “Yes, I do. I don’t mix business with . . .” Pleasure?

  “Let me take you to lunch. We can talk about the fundraiser.”

  Was he serious? For someone who professed to hate such events, he was certainly showing a lot of interest. “I have a lot of work to do, unfortunately. Maybe I can email you an update tonight?” She didn’t want to come face to face with Michael again, not until she had to.

  “Kate.”

  The way he said her name made her groin ache.

  “Dinner.” His voice was resolute.

  He didn’t sound like he was giving her an option, and Kate was beginning to think Michael wasn’t used to hearing the word no. “Where do you want to meet?”

  “I’ll meet you at your room at seven.”

  “Okay. See you then.” She ended the call and stared down at her phone. What was she getting herself into?

  Michael stood outside Kate’s room but found himself hesitating. If his sister found out about his intentions with Kate, she’d sock him square in the jaw with her killer left hook. It was the first time in his life he had ever stepped out of bounds in regards to his rules of professional conduct. But he needed to make an exception for Kate. He had wanted her from the moment she’d spilled her drink on him at the club; ever since, he couldn’t stop envisioning what she would look like naked, with her long, tan legs wrapped around him.

  His fist tapped the door, and he waited with a strange feeling of guilt in his stomach.

  “Hi,” she said, opening the door. She radiated sensuality no matter what she wore, but tonight, dressed in black pants and a white top that clung to her breasts, she made him feel a little weak. And weakness wasn’t a feeling to which Michael was accustomed.

  “I wasn’t sure where we were going.” She hesitated as her eyes raked over his jeans and T-shirt. “If you give me a minute, I can throw on some jeans.”

  “You look perfect,” he said, stepping into her suite. He forced his eyes to remain on hers, instead of dipping lower to her cleavage. “I’m taking you to a little Italian place around the corner. Do you mind walking?”

  “Sure.” She reached for her bag and followed him to the elevator.

  “How was your day? Productive?”

  “Yes, actually. I got a lot done.”

  As they stepped into the empty elevator, he took a deep breath and focused his attention on the silver doors. He didn’t usually have such a problem keeping composed around women, but for some reason, he could barely control his desire to behold every inch of her body. “I’m glad you agreed to dinner.”

  She smiled at him as the elevator chimed. “Thanks again for the offer.”

  He opened the door to the street and touched the small of her back, which triggered a small twitch from her body. “It’s just a block away,” he said before removing his hand.

  They walked in silence to a drab brownstone building on the next street. “It’s quaint,” she said when they entered the dimly lit restaurant.

  “Mr. Maddox, so good of you to join us.”

  Michael looked over at the restaurant owner and smiled. “Frankie, Kate here is from out of town. I wanted her to have the best Italian food Charlotte has to offer.” He looked at Kate, who was smiling at the older man.

  “Nice to meet you.” She reached out to shake his hand.

  “What a beautiful woman.” Frankie eyed Kate for a moment before he directed his attention back to Michael and winked.

  Kate’s skin reddened at his compliment, which Michael found endearing. She was modest. “Thanks for fitting us in,” he said while patting Frankie on his back.

  “Anything for you.” Frankie looked back at Kate. “Hang on to this one. He’s a good man. He helped me start my business. I began my restaurant at sixty-eight—two years ago. Can you believe it? All because this man believed in my vision.”

  “Oh—we’re not dating,” Kate responded, her cheeks blushing again. “But that’s great about the restaurant,” she added.

  Michael studied Kate and then looked at his friend. “How’s Billy?”

  “Pretty good. Coming home to visit soon.” He must’ve realized he was still holding Kate’s hand because he released it while speaking. “He’s a Navy Seal.”

  “Wow. Impressive.” Kate smiled at Frankie and nodded. “Is he your son?”

  “Yes,” he answered while directing them to a small table near an exposed brick wall.

  “You must be so proud,” she replied.

  “I am. And I look forward to running the restaurant with him someday.” He gave one last look to Michael and Kate and grinned. “I have to say that you would make one great couple. Well, enjoy your dinner.” He nodded at Michael and retreated to the kitchen area.

  Michael pulled Kate’s chair out and waited for her to sit before he took his own seat across from her.

  “You help a lot of people, huh?” She reached for her black linen napkin and let it fall open and rested it on her lap.

  He shrugged off her comment and slid into his chair. He remained silent, studying her face. Her glossy lips were parted, and her blue-green eyes were staring into his. He couldn’t wait to taste her lips. “I highly recommend the eggplant parm.” He broke their gaze and cleared his throat. His body was reacting to her way too fast.

  “Sounds great,” she said. “I trust you.”

  God, that’s the last thing you should do.

  “So, tell me about your business. Do you like being an event planner?”

  Before she could respond, a waiter appeared at their table and began to chat with them. “Anything particular you’d like to drink, or is there an appetizer you want?” Michael asked.

  “You can pick,” she said.

  “Can we have a bottle of Barolo and an order of calamari, then?” Michael thanked the waiter and looked back at Kate. “So—your business . . .?”

  “It’s not what I originally planned on doing with my life, but my stepmom needed me. And since I’m a planner at heart, it works for me.”

  “Is she still involved with the business?”

  “She helps out now and then, but she stopped focusing on the business when Alex, my brother, joined the military.”

  “I can understand that. My parents didn’t handle my time in the service very well. It can be hard on family.” The topic was darkening his mood, and he didn’t want to face that side of him again. He didn’t want to repeat the previous night’s cold goodbye. “When you told me last night that I don’t know you—well, it’s true. But I’d like to get to know you.”

  Her eyes narrowed on him, and she leaned back in her chair. “Know me how?” she asked, raising a brow.

  In bed, for starters. “I just want to know more about you.” He tilted his head and mimicked her body language, moving back and concentrating his eyes on hers.

  “Michael, I—I don’t get involved with clients.”

  He noticed the tremble in her voice. “I’m not exactly suggesting a relationship.” He’d already admitted to her that he didn’t do relationships—clearly, she wasn’t referring to that. “I don’t get involved with people I work with, either.”

  Kate’s eyes shifted from his face to his chest, as if noticing the steady increase in his breathing. “So, what are you saying?” Her gaze returned
to his eyes.

  “I want you, Kate.” He could see the shock flash in her eyes, and he worried that he’d been a little too candid. But that was who he was—he liked to cut straight to the point. He never wanted to send women the wrong signal.

  Kate stared at him for a moment. “Like I said, I don’t get involved with clients. And I would never entertain the idea of being with you, regardless.”

  He didn’t believe her. He could feel the way her body responded when she was around him. Had their conversation not turned so heavy last night, he would’ve made a move. But, as much of a dick as he could be at times, he wasn’t about to come onto her right after he’d learned that she’d lost her mother.

  Still, he couldn’t get the woman out of his head and damned if he didn’t need to know how she’d feel against him.

  “Unlike you, I only do relationships.” She released a breath. “Not that I’m even looking for one now.”

  He nodded with understanding. “I guess that settles it, then.” He paused and quirked his eyebrows. “Friends?”

  “Sure,” she replied after a minute. She looked up at the waiter, who was standing by their table, uncorking the wine. “I could definitely use a drink.”

  Michael waited for the waiter to leave before looking back at Kate. She returned his gaze beneath long eyelashes, and his pulse jumped a notch. “So, why don’t you want a relationship?” he asked, curiosity swelling inside him. She’d brought it up—the topic was fair game, right? Of course, he hoped to hell she didn’t ask him the same question.

  She tilted her head to the side and brought the wine to her lips. She took a sip, licked her lips, and set the glass down. “Why does it matter?” She edged back in her chair, but her posture remained upright.

  “I just can’t believe you’re available.” He took a swig of his drink.

  “Most of the men I meet are either clients or guys from bars . . . guys who only want one thing.”

  He almost choked on his wine. Guys like me. “And I fit into both those categories, huh?”

  She nodded and tucked her blonde hair behind her ear, exposing a small pearl earring. “Yes, Michael, you do.”

 

‹ Prev