Never Say Never (Written in the Stars Book 2)

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Never Say Never (Written in the Stars Book 2) Page 3

by Brittany Holland


  “Wow.” She sits back. “That was—”

  “Amazing.” I give her thigh a gentle squeeze as I withdraw my hand from her skirt.

  “Don’t you want—?” she questions.

  “No, I wanted to make you feel good. I would take a tissue, though,” I tell her, seeing there are none on the desk.

  “Oh, right.” She hops down and pulls herself together. “Bathroom is this way.”

  “I’ll be right down.” I smile.

  When her footsteps fade and she’s headed down the stairs, I button up, then quickly run back into the office and take out my mobile, snapping pics of as many of the documents as I can before I hear chatter. Her coworkers.

  I put the file back and exit the office, stopping at the bathroom to adjust myself and wash my hands.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” she whispers, meeting me at the base of the stairs.

  “I’m not really from around here, but I hope so,” I lie, feeling guilty, but knowing I won’t see her again. I can’t.

  “Oh. Okay.” She looks down, and I take her chin in my hand.

  “Miranda, seeing you in that pub last night with those arseholes you work with made me want to show you that you are desirable. I saw the way you looked at them, and the way they looked at everyone else. It’s not you, it’s them. I’ve been there, trust me.”

  She tears up. “I’m serious. This sexy librarian thing you have going on his hot as hell. If these losers can’t see it, fuck them.”

  “Thanks,” she replies. “It was nice meeting you…shit, I never even got your name.”

  “It’s CJ,” I wink. “Oh, and, Miranda?” I call over my shoulder. “Don’t lose the glasses. Men secretly love them.”

  I part ways with Miranda and head back to the hotel, needing a cold shower and a drink. Having her full breasts in my hand has left me with a raging hard on, and I would feel like the world’s biggest knob, but I think we both got something from today’s exchange.

  Chapter Three

  Scarlett

  A noise rouses me from a dream I’m all too familiar with. One where he chooses me. Where he finally owns my body the way he’s owned my heart all these years. I usually only have this dream at home, in the safety of my own bed. A cloud of secrets, a space no man has entered before—I’m saving that honor for him and him alone. Lord knows he wouldn’t be the first to lay me down, but he would be the first to take me there. In my own private refuge. Every time, I wake up breathless and wet, rolling over to find the bed empty, breaking my heart a little more with each sleepy mirage.

  Pulling myself up off the black leather chase in my office, I strain to hear something that’s not there. Piers. I shake the fog from my power nap and remind myself he just returned from States and I’m here. Alone. Again.

  Checking my watch, I see it’s getting late. Might as well wrap this up and get some rest. I want to look my best when I see him. After he’s seen her. It might be petty, but I never claimed to be a saint. Far from it, actually. Long blonde hair tickles my shoulders as I roll my neck in an attempt to ease the tension. Standing, I adjust my black dress and stretch before sliding my feet into tall black stilettos.

  A surge of pride hits me, knowing I paid for these…for the tailored dress, my leather satchel, and this jewel encrusted timepiece adorning my slender wrist like a handcuff reminding me of the price.

  It was worth every grueling hour, every sleepless night. From a gangly orphan to one of the best closers in the business. My mother thought I’d only ever be good for one thing. How wrong she was. It took a lot of years to learn I had other assets. I have Piers and Teddy to thank for that.

  My mind drifts to a dark place, to some of the things I’ve done to close a deal before Piers showed me a better way. But he doesn’t know that, sometimes, old habits die hard. Guess mother dear wasn’t entirely wrong. But it got me here, and I can’t regret that. Enough memory lane for one night. Grabbing the files I need to go through, I realize Piers has one of the documents. Hopefully I can find it on his desk.

  My designer heels echo on the slate floors as I quickly make my way to Piers’ office. With a renewed sense of energy, I let myself into his office and take a deep breath as I cross the threshold. It smells like him.

  “What are you doing here so late?” His loud voice booms in the stillness.

  “Christ! Piers!” I nearly jump out of my skin. Files scatter everywhere. “You scared the bloody hell out of me!”

  “Sorry, Scarlett.” He stands to help me. “Why are you still here?”

  He’s back. I breathe a sigh of relief.

  I struggle to find my voice as we collect the mess of paper and files. “I got your message about being back. I didn’t expect you ’til tomorrow, but I had some things I was trying to catch up on before I take off for the weekend.”

  “Oh, that’s right. The Anderson retreat. I completely forgot. You sure you’ll be okay on your own?” he questions, standing and handing the files over. He forgot. FORGOT!

  “I think I can handle myself, Piers. I’ve been doing it long enough,” I remind him, struggling to keep the venom out of my tone. Annoyed that not only he forgot, but that he’s suddenly questioning my ability. Taking a seat on the corner of desk, I cross my arms, waiting.

  “I don’t doubt that for a second,” he offers, leaning against the desk. “I just know how stubborn old man Anderson can be. His son is pushing for a seat, and with the timing of the retreat so close to the vote, and then the gala coming up…then there’s James. I’d feel a lot better if you would at least take one of the interns.” He runs a hand through his hair—a tell that he’s frustrated. “Maybe we can back out of the retreat? The deal is basically done.” What the bloody hell? My face grows hot.

  “Are you serious right now? Listen to yourself! Back out? That’s bloody stupid!” My voice raises an octave. “I busted my arse on that damn account, and it may not be important enough for you to show up, but I’m sure as hell not going to bugger it up!

  “What’s up with you? Since when did the Piers Nichols back down from anything? You’re the one who taught me about seventy-hour work weeks,” I continue, hitting my mark as he flinches.

  “Watch it.” His tone carries a warning. I hear you, Piers. Loud. And. Clear.

  “I’m serious. You’re distracted and look like shit, so what gives?” I push anyways.

  “Not now,” he dismisses me. Now, it’s more than the retreat; this is personal.

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes, not caring how childish it is. “Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.” I stand to leave.

  “It’s just that—” He begins pacing before sitting behind his desk. His behavior is so out of character for him, it has me concerned.

  “I don’t doubt you can handle it,” he stalls. I can tell he wants to say more, but he won’t.

  “Like I said, I’ll be fine,” I remind. “Speaking of the gala, our masks came in while you were away.”

  “Hmmm? Oh, the masks. That’s great. Anything else I should know about the gala?”

  I begin filling him in on the seating chart and some other trivial issues, none of which he hears as he looks past me and off into space. “Hello. Piers? Did you hear anything I just said?”

  He turns his attention on me and stares. I begin to heat under his gaze, my anger for him fading as his eyes study me, like he’s seeing me for the first time. Heat pools between my legs, and I shift, pressing my thighs tighter together. Until I see he now looks amused. It’s like throwing ice water on a slow burning fire.

  “What’s that look for?” I demand, more upset with myself than him. My earlier dream about him, about us, still lingers in the corners of my mind…playing tricks on me. Could he see it? The desire in my eyes?

  “Calm down. I was just thinking about when we were kids,” he confesses.

  “Nostalgic much?” I sigh. I hate talking about our past, even more than I hate thinking about it. He knows this. What’s gotten in
to him? “How many drinks have you had?”

  He shrugs. “One and a half. It’s not that...it’s—”

  “Is this about Willow?” I blurt out, not really wanting to know the answer, but getting it anyway when he looks down nervously. Willow, the one person who’s always been wedged between us.

  He scrubs his hands down over a five o’ clock shadow, and when he lifts his head, his weary eyes find mine, and I know it’s bad. Piers’ are swimming with emotion, and I know it’s not for me. I should go. Leave now.

  “Well?” I ask instead, unable to walk away from my oldest friend. Even though I know it’s going to hurt. It hurts me either way. “Look, I get it. I’m sure seeing her was difficult.” He raises his brows, and I force myself to carry on. “Okay, so I can’t imagine what that must have been like. But did she at least sign the papers?” Please say yes. Please!

  A long sigh drags out, and he avoids my gaze. I can’t believe it. If she had, this would all be over. He wouldn’t be hung up on her ghost anymore. We could move on. I could finally show him it’s me he needs.

  “She didn’t sign the papers? I can’t believe you would leave the states and not get them signed.” My voice shakes with anger. It’s been five years. She needs to let him go!

  “She needs to meet with Mr. Barrington herself. You know that.” He backsteps. Bullshit!

  “But I thought you found a way around that?” I know he did. A way for Willow Darling to sign her share of the estate over and never have to come back again. It’s what’s best for everyone.

  “I did,” he admits.

  “So, what’s the problem? Why didn’t she sign?” I’m so confused. She left him. The estate. Her family. The perfect fairytale life. To run away like a coward.

  “Why do you care so much about whether she signed or not?” He eyes me warily.

  “Because I’m your friend, and I was here to pick up the pieces when she left.” I can’t help but pace. “I don’t know why you would want to prolong closing that chapter in your life once and for all.”

  “It’s not that simple, Scarlett.” It never was.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” Dread fills my stomach as my heels clatter around the room, the sound only causing me annoyance now.

  “I have a son.” His words are like bullets to my heart. He. Has. A. Son. Each one striking and getting lodged in a heart that’s already barely beating.

  I can’t help the shocked look that registers on my face. The room grows silent as I’m frozen in place.

  “He’s called Drew,” he says proudly, voice dripping with love and adoration.

  “A son?” I force my feet to function and walk to his desk, taking the tumbler and letting the warm alcohol wash over me as I try to pull myself together to give my friend the reaction he deserves. Not my selfish, misguided one I feel inside. But the one he needs.

  “Yeah, a son.” He smiles. I feel like a bitch for what I’m about to say, what I can’t help thinking. Something that makes me feel sick to even hope, but the darkness in me can’t help but hope.

  “So, he’d be about?” I ask, impassively, waiting for his anger.

  “Five,” he finishes, annoyed at what I’m implying.

  “He’s mine, Scarlett.” And the look he gives lets me know the subject is closed. I see the hurt register on his face, and I look away, ashamed.

  “He has my eyes.” He extends an olive branch as pride fills his voice, and my chest aches, knowing I can never compete with that kind of love. “It’s like seeing myself at that age.” His words break my heart. Imagine seeing him like that again. The boy he was, the friend—the one who became my family, who stole my heart, without ever realizing it. He’s all I have. I can’t lose him!

  “So you’re leaving? Going back to the states?” My voice quivers, betraying me as I try to pull myself together.

  “They’re here.” He takes the empty glass I didn’t realize I was clutching and sets it down.

  “Here?” I whisper, suddenly feeling lightheaded. That’s why she didn’t sign the papers. She came back. For her family, the estate, and him. Piers. Instead of saying goodbye, she came to take it all back.

  “Yes, why wouldn’t they be? It’s what the will stipulates anyway. You really think I would leave without him? My own son?” Anger tinges his voice, and I flinch.

  “You’re right. Sorry.” I can’t help but fidget and look anywhere but those dark green eyes. I take a second and pull myself together, putting a mask firmly in place, ready to play the part. A part I’ve perfected, the role of friend. “I’m just really tired. That’s great news, Piers. I’m really happy for you. Really.” I look him in the eye, forcing myself to smile.

  “I look forward to meeting him. I can’t imagine a little version of you. Talk about a flashback,” I add, and now it’s his turn to look away.

  “About that. Scarlett, I…well, you know…you and Willow never got along well. I need this to go smoothly.” He struggles to find the right words, but I hear everything he’s not saying.

  “Got it.” I gather the files. “Well, I’m going to head out. If there’s nothing else?” I ask, struggling to hide the hurt in my voice.

  “Scarlett, it’s not like that. Stop. I just mean—”

  “I know what you meant. It’s Willow. The Willow. Your Willow. God forbid I make her feel uncomfortable.” I walk away, angry it always comes down to her. I only get a few steps before his hand wraps around my arm, his touch singing my skin.

  “Stop acting like a brat for a second. This isn’t a game. We aren’t kids anymore. This is my life. My flesh and blood. My family.” Hearing him say that word, the one I know he’s longed for, causes me to stop, but I don’t turn around. I can’t. Not without showing him my unshed tears. I could have been his family. But once again, I’m not enough.

  “I get it. I really do.” I try to say the right thing, words a decent friend would say. And I do get it, we’re not so different. But it hurts. It hurts to know I’ve struggled to hold onto him. All the women and the flings, the drinking…I’ve been here, waiting for the day he would lay her ghost to rest. Now that she’s here…

  “Thanks, Scar.” He leans forward and places a brotherly kiss on the back of my head. A single tear escapes, leaving a salty trail down my cheek. That’s not a lover’s kiss, it’s a friendly kiss, sisterly even—a kiss that lets me know where I stand. Rather than lose him altogether, I play the role he needs me to play. Friend.

  I clear my throat and nod before stepping away. I grab my things and put on the show of my life. “Come on, Daddy. You’ve had a few. I’ll drive you home.”

  “Scarlett,” he warns.

  “Too soon?” I turn, smiling at him, hoping he can’t see the tears waiting to fall.

  He grabs his jacket, catching on, and replying, “Lead the way, Corporate Barbie.”

  “Arse!” I smile as genuine of a smile as I can manage.

  Going down in the lift, I let it all wash over me. He has a son. Willow’s son. He is a father. They will be a family. And I’m as alone as I’ve ever been. Maybe I’ll see if Teddy wants to grab a drink. He never has plans. If he can’t, I’m sure I can find someone more than willing to help me drown my sorrows in a pint. Stepping into the damp night air, my skin tingles with awareness. I look around, but see nothing.

  “Scarlett? What is it?” Piers asks, and I jump, startled.

  “Nothing. Just chilly,” I lie, taking a deep breath as we step into the car park.

  I can’t help but have a strange feeling. I’ve been nervy all night, but my emotions are all over the place. I think I will have that drink. Find a dark little corner of a pub to drown myself in. But first, take Piers home where he belongs. And then I'll lose myself into the shadows of the night—where I belong.

  Chapter Four

  Cohen

  I watch as Piers walks out of his office building with Scarlett by his side. He walks close enough to touch her, yet doesn’t. She nearly catches me this time, so I step back into
the shadows as she looks around. Smart woman.

  My dick stirs to life as I watch her long legs carry her to the car park—legs I’ve recently imagined wrapped around my waist. Not just because she’s sexy as hell, because, fuck is she sexy. But because I know he hasn’t had her yet. I can see it in the way she looks at him. Her body language betrays her. Still, he keeps his distance. And here I thought he was supposed to be brilliant.

  Imagine my surprise when I learn his childhood friend is also his partner. I thought for sure there was more there. Turns out, I had it all wrong.

  He doesn’t look at her the same way. I almost feel sorry for her. But if there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s never to underestimate a woman. Especially a woman scorned. I wonder if he’s told her about Willow and his son? That they are here in London?

  I wanted to take something from him, like he’s taken everything from me. Thanks to a homely receptionist at that attorney’s office, I have all the details to put my plan into action. And a severe case of blue balls. Throw a few compliments her way, and brush her in the right place with my fingertips, and she was spilling all the details of the file. Too bad her coworker came back early from lunch. The guilt on her face let me know I wouldn’t be getting a repeat performance.

  Turns out Wendy’s will names Willow Darling as the heir, and her heir, one Phoenix Andrew Nichols was the standing heir in line for her uncle, James Black. But those pesky little stipulations make everything very tricky. I was hoping finding Piers with Scarlett would be enough to send her running back to the states, but only time will tell. Willow was the one I wanted to get close to, but it looks like she won’t be the one needing a shoulder to cry on. This couldn’t have worked out better if I’d planned it myself.

  This all started out with a fucked-up love triangle, and it will end with one.

  While I’ve been begging for scraps and making my own way, Piers’ has been here, living the life of luxury. He made a name for himself, and I’ve been cursing the name I was given He appears to have it all: the respect of his colleagues, a successful empire, a gorgeous partner, the money, the flat, the cars. And now his long- lost love remerges, with a secret child.

 

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