Deacon: A BWWM Billionaire Romance
Page 15
She turned and headed out the door.
“Enjoy your evening.”
I glanced solemnly at Kiara. She stared straight at the wall ahead, mouth softly open.
“I think I might have been responsible for that,” she said.
“It’s my fault,” I said grimly. “Not yours.”
“Can you fix it?” she said. “Can you change her mind?”
I looked at her dark hair. Her bright mocha skin. Her big brown eyes, bigger now.
She wasn’t worried, she wasn’t angry or even insulted. She was still thinking, still trying to figure this out for me.
But she couldn't. This deal, the one that stood a chance of growing us even bigger and making the company truly mine. It didn't hinge on her mind.
To my mother, it somehow hinged on Kiara herself.
“Yeah,” I said. “I might be able to convince my mother. If I was willing to let you go.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Kiara
The words didn't shatter me. Maybe I had seen them coming the moment his mom's pruny face showed up in the hallway. Maybe I had known she saw me as some demon to exorcise since that day at the country club.
Maybe I'd just always expected that the last few weeks were to be too good to be true.
For god's sake, I had fallen for a billionaire. He might have fallen for me too, but it was as he said: there were a thousand little hooks in him. I might be a big one, but if the rest were all pulling him the other way, then I stood no chance.
Deacon's brow lay furrowed, his lips pursed. He was running the numbers on me in his head.
My heart felt heavy as stone. One moment, we were pulling close too fast, the next we were blowing apart like a grenade.
“I should go, right?” I said.
“What?” His eyes sparked like twin flints.
“I can leave and you can go tell her that I'm not the reason for the solar deal.”
“Why in the hell would I say that?” He blinked. “Shit, you think that was a serious option I just spouted? I was just thinking out loud.”
A heat was in his eyes now, but none of it reached me. I saw my reflection in there, but just as another piece for him to put in place.
“Yeah,” I said, reaching for my purse. “I think I should leave. At least I can give you space to think.”
I rose, turning to hide the pooling water in my eyes.
“Hold it there, darlin'.” His hand was around my wrist.
“Just let me go.” I tugged, but I might as well have been trying to wriggle out from under a boulder.
“Now, you see, that's the one thing I can't do.”
He spun me around. His hard, powerful face still lay solemn, but his eyes were soft now, like a receding storm.
That gentle look nearly crumbled me. I blinked to keep from shattering.
“You're right,” I said. “She's hated me since the second she saw me. I don't really understand why, but it's not even about the business. It's about me.”
“No, it's about me. It's always been about me. She sees you and she's looking at the girl that matches the son who's always defied what she wants. You're right - it has nothing to do with the business. It's all about me spitting in the face of legacy.”
“You could break up with me and marry someone from your world. Someone she respected.”
“Shit, are you in cahoots with her? I know what she wants, I just haven't been doing it. Don't think I'm gonna start just cause you're the one suggesting it now.”
A laugh bubbled through my tightened throat. It made me sound like a wreck. Deacon pressed me back into my seat, and moved around so he could grip both my hands.
“I'm sorry for spitting my nonsense out loud,” he said. “This is why I prefer playing strategy games online. I can mumble my idiocy without issues. ”
His fingers were strong, but gentle. They fastened around me like hardening concrete. I couldn't go anywhere if tried.
But the only thing I wanted was for him to wind into me deeper, to bring me as close as he could.
“Let me make it very clear,” he said. “You are not going anywhere. No one is going to take me from you, least of all yourself - unless you truly want it. And I know you don't. I know who we are to each other.” He kissed me tenderly. “Right?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good. So this isn't a personal matter. I’s a business problem, and I am going to figure it out. That’s my damn job.”
“Ok.”
He cupped my face and kissed me longer. “Just to let you know, this doesn't change a word of what I've told you. That includes the job offer. Seems I need to make sure you're close.”
I snorted. No wonder he and his mom were at each other's throats. “You really think that's a smart idea?”
“Oh, it's a brilliant idea. Even if you weren't a gorgeous creature I couldn't lift my eyes off of, you'd still be a huge asset to the company.”
“Your mother will just fire me.”
“Na, she doesn't have that sort of power. She'll want to, yes, but she wants a lot of things she's not gonna get.”
He had that distant look again. I might have him now, but I'd never have him fully. Our moments together would always be clouded by other things, good and bad.
But his hands had not budged. If anything, they threaded deeper.
I didn't want a life with us staring in each other’s eyes every moment of the day, or with our minds lashed to each other. We were our own people. Closeness was more than perfect.
And now, this all seemed a little silly. A high-brow mother holding billions of dollars on the line over her son's love interests? It made my mom look sane in comparison. Even Antoine would say “you're not making any sense, girl” if I tried to use it in improv.
Things would never get boring with Deacon, that was for sure.
“I'll still have to think about the job,” I said.
He snapped out. “And I'm still ok with that. Just don't rule it out completely. Now-” He yanked me back into his lap. “Where were we?”
His head buried in my neck, thick and hard. Another part of him rose swiftly beneath me.
I sighed, but my heart raced the wrong way. It hadn't forgotten how this ended last time.
“If it's all the same,” I said. “I'd still rather not stay in the house with your mom around.”
“Oh.” He pulled away. “Yeah, I can understand that.”
His gorgeous mouth was arced down though.
I bent into his ear and whispered. “I mean, we should go somewhere else.”
“Oh!” His lips curled up against me. “I am so grateful you clarified that.”
He shot to his feet, with me still in his arms. I shrieked and we tore off, towards one of his expensive cars, towards a place where we could be together in peace.
****
The office welcomed me with its sterile flickering lights. I hadn't come in since starting the Abu Dhabi project. Even in Houston, I'd split my work time between an office in Stone Holdings and, well, Deacon Stone holding me.
If only someone had told me how motivating falling for your client could be, I might have started a lot sooner.
But it left me wondering: Do I really want to come back to just this again?
Half of the dozen cubes in my aisle lay empty, but every person around tossed me a look as I walked past. Some had plastered on smiles. Some looked like an alien had walked in.
News got around pretty fast, apparently.
Phil called me in for my debrief, and he still did a double take as I walked in.
“Kiara,” he said, rubbing his few tufts of hair. “Wow, I barely recognized you.”
“What?”
I was dressed as conservative as usual, and it wasn't like Deacon had made me get a tattoo.
“Really got some sun out there, huh?”
“Oh, yeah. A little bit.”
“How was the project? Did you enjoy yourself?”
Enjoy myself? “It went
well. And yeah, international travel was exciting.”
“Mm-hmm.” He looked on, patiently
Was he really trying to get me to talk about Deacon? Well, no dice.
“Did you get the feedback from Stone Holdings on our proposals?” I asked.
“Yep. Glowing as usual. They singled Leo and you out for outstanding presentations.”
“We worked well together.”
“You and the Stone leadership?”
I squirmed my fingers behind my back. This was getting annoying now. “Yeah, Leo and I spent a lot of late nights with Mr. Stone.”
Phil's eyes shot wide. “I see.”
Let them chew on that. It had only happened once, and obviously Deacon and I hadn't done anything in sight of Leo. But if I was going to be the daily tabloid for the whole office now, I wasn't going alone.
“So,” Phil said. “I fixed some small typos in your submission. Nothing big, but not your usual style.”
“Really?” I grabbed the document on his desk. “I'm sorry.”
“Ah it's not too bad. It was just surprising.”
The report for Deacon had been perfection. This one, I had rushed off. Even before Deacon had asked, I was already more interested in working for him that my current job.
“So, you ready to move on?” Phil asked.
“Move on to what?”
“To your next assignment. I was going to make you lead for a smaller project, but this oil consult came in. I thought you could handle it.”
The memory of the desert installation came rushing back. The sight of the thousands of dark scales whirring towards the sun, gazing up almost reverently.
Deacon's words echoed in my ear: Decide what you believe in and go for it hard.
“Anything in renewables?” I asked. “I'm still kind of in that renewable gear.”
“Not locally.” Phil tapped at his computer. “I can try to get you staffed further out, but it'll take a while. This oil case should be easy in the meantime.”
My firm had given me a bit of choice, but that's all it could give me. If I stayed here, I'd be choosing to believe in that freedom over anything else. How had I gone so long without seeing that?
Well, I wasn't going to just walk out now. “Fine,” I said.
“Awesome. I'll send you the details. Glad to have you back with us.”
I returned to my desk. The cube felt small and claustrophobic. Before, I had never really been here, not really. I was lost in my work. But it was almost hard to breath now.
Deacon was right. The only freedom we had was to pick the things we chained ourselves to. But that didn't mean I should chain my whole life to one man. He already occupied my personal life, and now he wanted to take over my professional one, too.
Sure, it would probably look good, especially with a title bump. And sure, the project itself was almost as exciting as he was. But after I saw last night, it was hard to think of it as anything but fragile.
I could lose him and the job in one fell swoop, or one by one. We might end up fighting over work, or get tired of seeing each other, or I could make him look bad, or he could hurt me trying to look good. My heart raced as I spun through all the awful futures that could come out.
A cool drink of water cleared my head. Maybe none of that would happen. We could walk that tightrope together, grow stronger together, build big things together. It was a small chance maybe, but the path to heaven went through a needle's eye. You didn't get there without a little faith.
That had been one of my father’s lines. If I could even see the merit in that, then Deacon was certainly worth a lot more of my trust.
I ate lunch at the office alone. More glances came my way as I passed through the cafeteria with my tray. It was like high school all over, not that I'd ever done anything to be the center of attention then.
I was already Deacon's girl now here. I'd dreaded this moment all along and now it had arrived. It wasn't half bad actually. I was Deacon's girl. He'd been very clear on that last night, when we'd somehow ended up at my place. For the first time, we'd actually been together in my room.
Deacon's girl. Just the words brought me a smile. They might chain me to him, but they weren't a cage. Right now, they could set me free from this place.
I plunked through the oil report. Luckily, it was easy enough to get done while daydreaming. I barely even noticed the smiles playing around my coworkers lips when I talked to them on coffee breaks. My eyes were set on bigger things.
My mood was bouncy by the time I got back home. Deacon was well occupied dealing with yesterday's fall out, so I had the night with Mira. Or at least I thought I did.
Mira was already on the couch, chilling with Antoine. She lay splayed in Antoine's lap, holding Snowflake, while he stroked her hair like a dog. There literally wasn't room for me between the three of them.
Ok, this I did not need Deacon to set me free from. I wanted these two around.
“What are you guys watching?” I dropped my purse off and plonked down on the carpet next to them.
“Just trivial nonsense,” Antoine said, slowly popping a sun chip into his mouth.
“That's most of everything on TV these days.” I settled in. “Wait, this is Shark Tank. That's not so trashy.”
“Less rednecks, more yuppies. Same harebrained ideas. Same nonsense.”
“Antoine and I are going to pitch a fashion line on the show,” Mira murmured. “That way I can stop working at Starbucks and get back to art.”
“That's really cool.” They definitely would never pull it together, but imagining it with them was almost as good. “What's it going to look like?”
“Not sure yet. It's all up here.” Mira stabbed her nose by accident before finding her forehead.
“Oh.” That sounded judgy, so I added. “If you guys do go on, I can do your financials.”
“Aw, thanks mama.” She absently patted my shoulder. “I know you're there for us.”
“Bringing home that sugar.” Antoine said. His slender hand ruffled through my hair.
I smiled and nestled my head back into Antoine's lap. Deacon was just continuing the evolution of Kiara that these two had started. I could definitely bring enough sugar for these two if I joined Stone Holdings. It'd be a blessing not having to worry about money.
We watched entrepreneurs cry and made fun of commercials pleasantly for, oh, maybe ten minutes before my phone started buzzing. The two snarled at me as I rushed to pick it up. If it was Deacon, he'd need to take a raincheck.
The caller was considerably easier to say no to, though. The caller id read “Mom.” She wasn't even trying to trick me into answering.
After Deacon's continued horror at every story from my childhood, I'd thought about removing her contact altogether. I knew the number by heart to avoid it.
But I hadn't.
And now, something kept from declining the call. Maybe I'd had my daily vaccination against nutjob mothers. But I actually wanted to hear something from her, too.
I took the phone to my room and shut the door.
“What?” I said.
“Kiara?” Her voice was low and surprised.
“Yeah, who else? You called me.”
“You just never pick up anymore.”
“Well, I did now. Say your piece.”
“Kiara, you need to come home and visit. Your father is very ill. Please, just let him see you.”
Despite everything, my chest tightened a bit.
Not for him. Never for him.
But my mother had a sad aura about her that had only deepened. She had been under his control for so long. Facing the wide open world must be horrifying.
“I can't do that, Mom,” I said. “I can't forgive him.”
She just breathed on the other end. Was this the depth of her argument? Her only plan was to try to get me to pity the monster that had ruled my life?
Suddenly, I knew what had compelled me to pick up. I had to know why she'd become who she was. How had
she submitted so deeply to his will? Even with him sick, she was still begging on his behalf.
I didn't ever want to turn out that way. And deep down, it had always been a worry: Could Deacon's love be a blindfold too? It felt empowering, but maybe that's what my mom thought, even as my dad silenced her strength.
“I won't meet him,” I said. “But I'll meet you.”
Her breath caught. “You will?”
“Not at home. How about a Starbucks?”
“Alright.”
We set it up for the weekend. I gave her Mira's branch address.
“Thank you, Kiara,” she said. “I hope I can change your mind.”
“Don't expect that,” I said. “I'm only planning on talking.”
I hung up and stood in my dark room. What was the best that could happen? I'd find out how she succumbed and make sure I wasn't walking down that path. Anything more was a bonus.
But my thoughts went quickly to the night before. Deacon had his own messed up family relationship. Still, they all seemed to stay in each other's lives even as they held a knife at each other's throats. Maybe that was better than nothing.
I went out, and perched back by the sofa.
“That your mysterious boy toy?” Antoine asked.
“It was my mother.”
They shuffled on the sofa behind me. “What?” Mira said. “You talked to her?”
“I did. And we're going to talk more in person.” I turned around. “It'd be nice to have some support.”
“I suppose I can make time,” Antoine said. “But what are you doing this for? You get along worse with your folks than I do with mine.”
“She's trying to fix that, duh,” Mira said.
“No.” They looked at me expectantly. “I'm just trying to understand her.”
They turned back to the TV and I thought quietly to myself: So I can be sure I don’t make the same wrong choice that she did.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Deacon
When I expected a late night, I liked to move myself to my ground office. It was a little room off on its own, almost like a garden shed, but with glass walls, minimalist furniture and a solar lit roof. It sat just on the shores of the company pond.