Reforming the CEO (South Beach)

by Marisa Cleveland

  She pushed aside all the mixed feelings and wished she’d never let him into her heart. If he’d been just a tad bit lousy in bed. Or if he’d been rude to his staff. Chewed with his mouth open. Anything to make her love him less.

  He stood from behind his desk, and for a thousand heartbeats, she forgot her part in their act. She soaked in his dark suit jacket, pocket square cut to perfection, navy tie knotted at the neck of his crisp white and light blue striped shirt. She wanted to rush into his arms, but instead, she swallowed, inhaled, and then pasted what she hoped was a cool smile on her face.

  “Hello, Vin.”

  He placed the tablet in his hands on his desk and shot her one of those killer smiles. “Reece. Did you get my text?”

  She had. Asking her if he could take her to dinner tomorrow. Oldest trick in the book. To take the girl somewhere public in the hopes she wouldn’t make a scene. Well, it was better for them to discuss their future—or lack of one—in his office, so they could plan their breakup in a civilized, private manner.

  Now. She had to end this now. “I thought coming here would give us more privacy to talk.”

  One of his dark eyebrows arched. “Talk?”

  She let out a small giggle, the fake one she used when she didn’t want people to know she cared. “I can’t keep treating you like my on-demand sex toy.”

  “On-demand sex toy,” he murmured, moving over to kiss her cheek. “You definitely have a way with words.”

  She closed her eyes as his lips touched her skin, savoring the last bit of intimacy between them. What had started as simple fun had turned into so much more. For her. Not for him. Never for him.

  Because of her stupid brother’s threat, she’d turned into an obstacle for Vin, and she refused to let him fall. Her heart clenched, and for an awful moment as she breathed in his magically addictive scent, she thought her heart might just stop altogether. With one last inhale, she stepped back, giving herself space.

  From a practical standpoint, he should break up with her, which ensured not only his company’s success, but job security and economic expansion for his thousands of employees. She couldn’t allow him to sacrifice the wellbeing of many for her dumb little heart. And it wasn’t like he was rushing to keep her.

  She swallowed down her disappointment and said matter-of-factly, “It was never going to be me.”

  He met her statement with an expression worse than confirmation or resignation—she saw comprehension and then an icy indifference. His response told her he knew exactly what she meant.

  She took a shallow breath, blinking back an uncomfortable burn in her eyeballs. This was harder than she imagined when she’d rehearsed what she’d say. That she wanted him to have it all. To get the best price point on his IPO. To not worry about their fake arrangement.

  With a tiny shrug, as if to say it didn’t mean anything, she said, “Let’s face it. With the IPO coming up, you’re going to be swamped. I’m taking over my family’s foundation. I’m going to be swamped. And…I spoke with Landon—” She didn’t know how to finish that sentence, so she just stopped talking.

  He slid his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, his tone bored when he said, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  She frowned. This stony barrier he’d erected caught her off guard. It didn’t make sense.

  Plenty of men had dated her to be introduced to her family, but Vin hadn’t done that. He’d been up front with her from the start. “Vin, you said it yourself. We weren’t dating.”

  While he ran a hand through his hair, he said, “Because it wasn’t ever going to be real. This thing between you and me.” He scowled. “I’m being realistic. You taught me that.”

  Taught him to be realistic? Were they back to her being tame and him being wild? How tame was she when they’d had sex on the balcony? “What does that even mean?”

  He turned away from her. “Nothing.”

  She pressed her lips together. Fine. She wouldn’t argue with him. Wouldn’t provoke him. Wouldn’t demand an explanation. But dammit. She narrowed her eyes. “No. You know what? You at least owe me an explanation.”

  He spun around, looking incredulous. “I don’t owe you—or anyone else—anything. Not anymore.” His upper lip curled in a snarl for the briefest moment before his expression returned to passive indifference.

  She heard it—an underlying bitterness—in the tone of his voice. Had it always been there? That hint of resentment? “Vin, do you hate me?”

  He let out a long-suffering sigh. “I— No, Reece, I don’t hate you.” But his voice still sounded rough when he said, “But it doesn’t surprise me that you’re here now, breaking things off early.”

  She stared at the band on his wrist. Why wasn’t he relieved? Was it because she’d beat him to the punch line? Did he have to be the one to break up with her? Or could he not conceive a woman would leave him first? Before she could ask, he stomped into her personal space, gripped both her shoulders with his large hands, and locked his gaze on hers.

  In a low growl, he said, “It doesn’t surprise me, because”—he released her shoulders and stepped back—“let’s face it. You’re a Rowe. You’ll always be a Rowe.”

  His words hit her brain with a dull thump. He wasn’t any different than any other guy she’d dated. They all saw her last name. He was a freaking self-made multimillionaire. A CEO of one of South Beach’s hottest new technology corporations. A guy willing to give back to his community. He was driven. Smart. Best of all, he knew how to live life.

  And all he saw when he looked at her was her last name.

  You’re a Rowe.

  In all the times she’d broken up with men, nothing had ever hurt like this. Rowe wasn’t even her real last name. Not the one she’d been born with. Growing up, Wife Number Three had reminded her of that fact plenty of times. Especially when Reece’s father had redrafted his will to include Wife Number Three, and the evil interloper had contested Reece’s claim to everything. Funny how one name could give and take so much from a young girl. Not that any of that mattered now. She couldn’t give Vin her name, but she could offer him her acceptance of their breakup, so he could have what obviously mattered to him—a successful IPO.

  “We’ve met before, you know.” A hollow smile curved his lips, as if he couldn’t decide if the memory was bitter or sweet. “You came with Landon and Christopher to my eleventh birthday party.”

  “That was your birthday party?” She’d been so delighted to go anywhere with her brothers back then. It was the last time she remembered her whole family in one room at one time. Her brothers sitting with their father by the window, her by their mother in the doorway. She’d begged her mother to let her wear her new dress, and she’d been carrying in a tray with her father’s usual double shot of espresso in her brand new Cotillion tea set. When she’d stumbled and spilled the coffee, she’d accidentally instigated another one of her parents’ loud fights, ending with her father storming off.

  Landon had told her to behave, to not make their mother cry, and she’d been on her best behavior. She’d been super paranoid to ruin another new dress, and she’d wanted to keep it extra clean, even refusing to eat any of the birthday cake once they got there. Like it had mattered. Her parents had continued to fight until they’d finally divorced, leaving a too quiet house in their wake.

  “Yeah, that was me.” He huffed and shook his head. “You gave me the best remote control car, and all I wanted to do was give you a hug, but you saw I was just a dirty kid and you cringed. You physically cringed at me, Reece.”

  She’d had no idea he felt that poorly of himself, given that he was a self-made millionaire, but she was horrified he’d throw that old memory at her. One she barely remembered beyond not wanting to make her mother cry. She hadn’t known the boy was Vin. But he’d known all along. Had known even before he’d written the check for the fundraiser.

  His thanking her for shaking Tonia’s hand now made sense. He thought she was
a snob. He really thought she was that stuck-up. And their time together hadn’t changed his opinion of her at all.

  “No. It wasn’t like that.” Shaking her head, she took a step toward him, but he backed up. She stepped forward again, desperate to close the space between them.

  She vaguely remembered him coming at her, and then he was gone, just like that. But though the memory might be fuzzy, she clearly remembered her mother screaming at her to not get her dress dirty and ruin everything. She didn’t cringe because of the dirt. She backed away because of the fear of disappointing her mother.

  Even though he said, “Whatever. It was a long time ago,” she still heard the anger in his voice. The incident had clearly upset him. And even if it was two decades ago, it didn’t feel like a long time to her. Tears choked her words as she was suddenly thrown back to the time when all she wanted to do was block out her mother’s crying and her father’s yelling. She never understood what they fought about, and for the longest time she assumed it was about her. Now she knew the whole story, but it still didn’t lessen the pain.

  One thing she did learn was that arguments, no matter how petty, still added up over time, and if she and Vin were arguing about a twenty-year-old memory, then what did it matter? Things between them were too—explosive—to ever move around the debris.

  He’d said it. He wanted someone to run wild with him on his adventures, and she, up until the moment she met him, had craved safety. No way could they find middle ground.

  She gave a bitter scoff, saying, “You told me you don’t do relationships, but you can. You just don’t want to.” She was pretty sure he would one day. CEOs didn’t stay single. They had wives and children and more wives, if they were her dad, and more children, like Candace wanted one. She didn’t want to be a corporate wife wondering when her husband would cheat on her with someone else, so not falling in love with Vin was a good thing.

  Because it would’ve been so easy to love him, and then he would’ve broken her heart.

  “True.” His tone shut down further conversation. She knew that tone. Had heard her father use that tone. All her alarm bells sounded at once, and she gave in. Somehow she’d figure out how to return to her old life. The one before she’d propositioned Vin. She’d been happy then, right?

  “It’s better this way.” She said it like she really meant it. Like she truly believed both of their lives would be better if they ended things now.

  God, she’d been so naive. She’d thought they’d developed into more than just sex and fake dates. She’d thought they’d become friends. More than friends. Lovers. But for him, it had only been about sex and fake dates.

  Instinct had her placing her practiced polite smile on her mouth and that calm, distant glaze in her eyes—the one she’d practiced in front of the mirror a thousand times as a kid. The look that shut out how she really felt. She wanted to scream. Cry. Argue. Fall to her knees and beg him to love her, even a little bit. Part of her trembled with pent-up energy she’d built up for years. For just once in her life, she wanted to know what it would feel like to be good enough. But that wasn’t going to happen with Vin.

  With every intention of escaping, she whirled around, but her sweater flared, and the bottom button caught in the decorative ridge of a shelf. The slight tug surprised her enough to stumble sideways and bang her elbow on the closest item—a crystal award that landed with a thud on the thankfully plush carpet.

  When she bent to pick it up, he strode over to her, and as they both faced each other, practically toe to toe if not eye to chest, she choked. “I could’ve loved you.”

  He snatched the award from her. “I never would’ve asked you to.”

  Their gazes locked, and she realized so many things. She hoped one day he would think back on their time together and smile because she’d been a part of his life. And not just any part, the part where he finally reached his goals. She’d been part of the reason his IPO would be a success, and no one could take that away from her.

  With one final glance at Vin’s absurdly handsome face, she said, “Call me crazy, but it would’ve been nice to be given the chance to try.”

  …

  “She’s not here.”

  Vin looked at Amelie climbing the back steps. For the past two hours—hell, for the last two weeks—Vin had hovered on his back deck, hoping to catch a glimpse of Reece. About four minutes after she’d walked out of his office, he’d realized his mistake in not stopping her. Pride had him postponing the uncomfortable conversation they needed to have—hey, I really like you, please don’t leave—and then work swept in like a tornado. Landon’s team released a press release confirming his stake in the IPO, arranged through the Rowe finance team and Vin’s chief counsel. Followed by a hurricane of media events. Alongside new allocation projections. He wanted to speak with her, but this wasn’t a rushed conversation. He didn’t even want to think about repercussions with Landon now that everything was public. Whether he’d wanted to accept the other man’s involvement or not, it was a done deal.

  “She’s not?” That explained why he’d barely seen any lights on in their condo. Not that he’d been home early enough to notice. These days, he spent more time on his office sofa than in his own bed.

  Amelie stopped on the top step and regarded him with wary eyes. Her words seemed measured, gauging his reaction, when she said, “She moved back home.”

  Home. To the Rowe penthouse. He should have guessed she’d retreat to her ivory tower. If Reece didn’t want to face him, he wouldn’t go to her uninvited. He’d pushed his way through enough closed doors to know where he didn’t belong, and fake or not, in all the time they’d spent together, he didn’t miss the fact she’d not once invited him to an event where her family would be present.

  “At least she’s safe,” he said, realizing he meant it.

  Amelie scoffed. “Yeah, because that’s the way to live life.”

  “You don’t want her to be safe?”

  “A ship in the harbor is safe,” Amelie mused, her gaze sharpening on him.

  “I think I’ve heard that quote.”

  Amelie glared at him for a long moment before lifting one shoulder. “Well, I’m just here to pick up some stuff. Should I tell her I saw you?”

  His answer didn’t matter. They both knew Amelie would say whatever the hell she wanted to Reece. And really, what he should say to Reece couldn’t be delivered through a third party. But how would it look if he went after her now, after Landon already made their deal public? Like he wanted to eat his cake and have it, too. Trying not to sound miserable, he muttered, “Sure. Tell her I said hello.”

  Amelie sighed, and her expression softened. “Cheer up. Grapevine has it you landed Landon.”

  Anger burned through him, and in one swift motion, he stood hip to wood with the railing separating them. “It was never my intention to land Landon, Amelie, and if she believes that—” He cut himself off. Amelie’s face had shifted to shocked awe, if he read her right.

  She actually smiled when she said, “Well, you got him, whether you planned to or not.”

  He’d rather have Reece.

  Damn. This whole thing was such a mess. Reece knew he’d never approached Landon, never used her connection to get close to her brother. In fact, landing Landon somehow felt like the consolation prize.

  He looked at Amelie with a blank expression. He had no words. No strategy. No way to get her back, and truthfully, deep down, he didn’t even think getting her back would be the best thing for her. Maybe that was why he’d let work take over his life. Because it was easier to tackle a goal he could manage than chase a dream.

  A palm covered his hand gripping the partition. Amelie’s flashy ruby and diamond ring on her index finger glistened with the confidence of a family heirloom, contrasting with his plastic #justlivelife wristband. “She’s an over-the-top, sparkles and glitter fairytale kind of girl, Vin.” She offered him a sad little smile. “And we both know you’re not the over-the-top, sparkl
es and glitter fairy tale kind of guy.”

  He could protest. Hadn’t he bought the bracelet to prove his feelings? But Amelie Archer wasn’t the only person who thought he wasn’t right for Reece Rowe. Vin rubbed his forehead. Two influential people in Reece’s life—Landon and Amelie—believed he wasn’t good enough for her. And he believed it, too. They were right.

  His chest tightened in panic.

  It was time to let her go.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Reece scrolled through her phone and double-tapped on a picture of a Corgi. Then she commented with a thumbs up on a photo of a wedding couple on the beach at sunset. When an entrepreneur she followed uploaded an image of Vin in a crowded conference room, she kept scrolling. She refused to acknowledge the Vincent situation had ever happened. Maybe if she told herself that enough times, it would come true. It would wipe out the last two months from her memory.

  And maybe pigs would fly.

  The one fortunate thing about breaking up in the middle of July? Off season disguised their lack of appearances at public events. The tabloids hadn’t caught wind of their separation. Most of the stuff that made news revolved around restaurants closing, storm water maintenance, and real estate rentals.

  The bad thing about breaking up in the middle of July? Nothing to distract her from thinking about Vin and all the ways he could have been perfect for her. Nothing to stop her brain from overthinking every conversation they’d ever had. Nothing to stop her body from missing his touch. Just rainy afternoons spent staring at the ocean and wishing things could have ended differently.

  Now, they weren’t even friends.

  She hugged the cupcake-shaped pillow from her youth and rolled onto her side, her back to the window. It was one month since the last full moon, and this one, despite the rain, shone too bright for her mood.

  Damn the man. She’d never look at another full moon again and not think about him. He was somewhere right now. Out there. Under the same moon. Only he was probably having fun. Not wallowing like her in her childhood bedroom. Why had her father kept her room the same? Once she’d left for boarding school in ninth grade, she’d rarely stayed in the family penthouse. Three wives had come and gone in that time, but her room remained unchanged.