Rafe walked from the room and waited downstairs. Almost immediately, Ryan scurried from the house with his head down. Sharron rushed toward Rafe and started to beg for his forgiveness.
Rafe shook off the unpleasant memory as he glanced around him. For a single moment, he’d been shattered. He’d sacrificed so much of himself to please her — give her what she wanted — but none of that was enough. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice; he never did.
Rafe walked up the steps and stood just inside the bedroom door, looking warily around at the room where he’d slept beside that woman night after night. Shaking his head, he left and made his way toward his luxury kitchen. No memories lingered there. It wasn’t as though his wife had known the first thing about cooking.
He had a full staff, which was a good thing. Otherwise his house would have been in shambles and he’d never have gotten fed. Sharron hadn’t been domestic in the least. He hadn’t cared about that — all he’d wanted was to have the same kind of family life with her as the one he’d grown up with. Before this moment, he’d been under the sad delusion that marriages could all have happy endings.
A cold silence hung around him like a shroud, and Rafe was grateful he’d sent his staff away for the day. He didn’t need anyone witnessing his failure.
Failure.
He rolled the word around on his tongue. It didn’t sound right. How could it? Failure was a foreign concept to him. He’d been born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth. And his mother often teased him, saying he was an old soul in a young body.
She was the only one who could get away with a remark like that — he adored her. Well, to be fair, his sisters got away with it, too, and for the same reason.
Rafe had a sudden feeling that all his family members would be relieved to hear of the coming divorce, especially his mother, though she’d never admit it to him. She had tried to get close to his soon-to-be ex-wife, but somehow it had never happened. Had Sharron had any desire at all to know his family? Now that he thought of it, he couldn’t recall any evidence in her favor. True, he wouldn’t have noticed while the two of them were dating, because that was during the six months out of the year that his family resided in Italy. By the time his parents and sisters had returned for their six months in California, he and Sharron were already married.
And then? It hit him right in the gut. From the very beginning, Sharron had been great at making up excuses for why she couldn’t visit with them. But he was in love and stupid and he just hadn’t noticed. If he had, he would never have become so serious about her. He’d been raised to believe that family always came first. Upon their marriage, he’d put her first, just as his father had put his mother first. Soon, he’d cut down on visiting his family —she’d said she couldn’t go, and he wanted to please her by remaining with her. He’d done a lot of things to make the woman happy.
Apparently none of it had been enough.
With a last glance around the kitchen, he lifted his cell phone and dialed. His call was picked up on the other end of the line before the phone could ring twice.
“Sell the house. I want nothing in it,” Rafe said to his assistant in clipped tones.
“Yes, sir.” There was no arguing. Mario had been an employee of his from the day Rafe had started his billion-dollar corporation. The man was loyal, efficient, and trustworthy. Rafe couldn’t imagine how much harder his job would have become without his favorite employee.
Rafe had learned everything from his dad, Martin Palazzo, who had made millions in the stock market, and later in smart real-estate investments. Martin had met Rosabella, Rafe’s mother, while traveling for business in Italy. The two of them had been inseparable ever since, but Rosabella couldn’t stand to stay away from her homeland for more than six months at a time, which was why Rafe had spent half his childhood in Italy and half in the States.
Because of his multicultural upbringing, he was much more prepared to take on the global business structure he’d adopted. He was a fierce businessman and loyal to the end to those he loved. After today, trust would be something he held much closer to his heart and gave only with caution.
Rafe had decided from an early age that he needed to make his own way in life — not just have everything handed to him by his wealthy parents. He wasn’t stupid, though. He’d taken his father’s advice, had even done business with him, but Rafe had dreamed big — and turning that dream into reality had taken him much less time than it would have taken the average person.
Whenever he walked into his twenty-five-story office building in San Francisco, he felt a justified pride. He created jobs for hundreds of thousands of people throughout the world, gave them an income, made sure they went to bed each night with a full stomach and the security of more work to be done in the morning.
He gave so much — and unlike his soon-to-be ex-wife, his employees were grateful and regarded him almost as a king. Sharron had thrown everything he’d given her right back in his face. Except for money.
Rafe was finished with women. Well, he thought with an arrogant smirk, finished with playing the good guy. It was his turn to take what he wanted. Never again would he be used — never again would he put his heart out there to be carelessly trampled on.
Walking purposefully out his front door, he’d refused to even turn around to watch the final latching of the lock. When he was through with something, it was over. He was done with this house.
Placing his hand on the cool metal handle on the door of his black Bentley, he barely heard the familiar click as the catch released. And as he climbed into the seat, he was oblivious to the fresh, pungent smell of the smooth leather upholstery.
Pulling quickly out of the driveway, Rafe began heading the short distance to the city, where he had a condo a couple of blocks from his office building. Luckily, Sharron had refused to live in San Francisco, causing him to sleep there on the many late nights he’d worked. The apartment was his — his alone.
If she’d so much as touched the doorway of the roomy penthouse, he’d have sold it as well. He wanted no reminders of the woman, nothing of her to remain in his life. He wanted a fresh slate. To have the last eight years back — that’s what he wanted most of all, but since that was impossible, he’d simply have to erase her completely from his life from this day forward.
A few more phone calls and that would be done.
Chapter One
Three years later
“You’re too thin.”
Arianna Harlow trembled as the man prowled around her, continuously circling her chair. She felt like a caged animal just waiting for him to strike. Why was she still sitting there? Why didn’t she say the job wasn’t for her, that it had all been a big mistake and she’d best be on her way?
She knew why. Reality flooded her mind — how she couldn’t afford to walk away — that was, if he offered her the job. She was barely staying above water with her bills overflowing. Her mother was about to be removed from the rehabilitation home she was in, shipped to a lesser facility, and Ari didn’t have a dollar left in her bank account.
She was truly afraid. If her mother were sent to the state care facility, she’d probably wither away to nothing and in no time at all. Ari couldn’t let that happen — she wouldn’t.
Arianna had already dropped out of school during her last semester, her life forever changed because of one brief moment in time, because of one horrendous mistake.
If only…
Those two words had haunted her thoughts for the past six months. She had several different endings to those words, but the dominant words were if only…
If only she hadn’t called her mom in panic that night.
If only she hadn’t gone to the party in the first place.
If only her mother had left a few minutes later.
“Are you listening to me?” Raffaello Palazzo’s voice rumbled through the air, causing Ari to jump in her seat. She had to think for a moment about what he’d last said to her. Oh yeah, she wa
s too thin.
“Yes, Mr. Palazzo. I just don’t know how to respond to that.”
“Hmm.” His voice came out as a hum, drifting across her nerve endings. Rafe was incredibly intimidating as he paced back and forth, towering over her at a few inches above six feet. Add to that his jet black hair and stunning eyes and she felt like a rumpled factory worker, totally out of her element in this exquisite office.
As he made another pass around the room and neared her, Ari thought back over the last week — how strange it had been. Never before had she jumped through such hoops during a job interview.
She’d applied for more than a hundred jobs in the past month, and only three employers had called her back. One job had been at a bank; the manager had called her a few days later, saying they’d given the position to another applicant. The second was at an insurance company, and they’d told her she didn’t have enough experience.
The third job…well, she didn’t really know how to describe what she’d been through. The ad had said only this:
Seeking full-time applicants for Palazzo Corporation. Must be willing to work seven days a week, long hours. Must have no other commitments — no family, second jobs, or school. Salary 100k a year plus expenses. Hand-delivered applications only.
Ari thought getting the job would be a long shot, but she had nothing to lose by applying. She had immediately spruced up her résumé, which only included two years in her local pizza parlor, then almost four years as a part-time secretary in the Stanford history department.
With only one semester away from graduation, her life had changed forever because of the first foolish mistake she’d ever made. Why had she been so careless with only a few short months to go? Now that night would haunt her, be something she’d have to live with for the rest of her life.
With a leather notebook in hand, résumé and application inside, she had entered the large building and approached the security guard in the lobby, who’d directed her to the secretary’s office on the twenty-fifth floor. In she’d walked with what she hoped was confidence exuding from her every pore, and she’d handed over her polished résumé.
“Thank you, Ms. Harlow. If you’ll have a seat, Mr. Kinsor will call you in shortly.”
Oddly enough only women were in the room as Ari sat down, not a male applicant to be seen. The frightening part was that all of them looked far more qualified for whatever office position was open. One by one the women had stepped into a room, the door shutting behind them. After about ten minutes they’d walked back out, their expressions confident as they eyed the remaining applicants. This business world was a sharkfest and Ari didn’t know if she was up for the swim.
“Ms. Harlow?”
“Right here,” she’d called, then stood and ambled toward the small man wearing glasses and a gentle smile on his face.
“This way, please.”
She’d followed him into a room where a blue screen was set against the wall. There was a table with a paper and pen sitting atop it and nothing more.
“Please have a seat. I’m going to take your picture.”
Ari hadn’t understood the need for a picture just yet. Possibly it was for an ID card or employee badge, but usually that was done after you were hired. Maybe they were running it through security to make sure she wasn’t a criminal. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to protest.
She had taken her seat and waited for the flash, knowing her smile wasn’t genuine, but her anticipation had been so high, it was impossible to offer anything bigger than a slight grimace.
“Please fill out this form and make sure all contact information is correct. If you’ve passed to the second part of our screening process, we’ll call you in three to five days,” Mr. Kinsor had said with the same gentle smile.
He hadn’t asked her whether she had any questions. He hadn’t elaborated on the job. Normally, she would have just filled out the paperwork and kept silent, but her rising curiosity had pushed her with an unknown bravery to ask what the job actually was.
“Mr. Kinsor, the ad in the paper was vague. What exactly does this job entail?”
“If you make it to the next level, you’ll be given more information, Ms. Harlow. I’m sorry but Mr. Palazzo is a very private man and this position is…confidential,” he’d answered with a slight pause.
“I understand,” Ari had said with a brittle smile, though she hadn’t understood at all.
She’d scanned the solitary paper on the table and her confusion had only worsened.
What are your hobbies?
Are you in a serious relationship? If not, when was the last one you were in?
Are you available to travel?
What kind of questions were these? Still, she’d answered as best she could and finally read a question that made sense:
What are your career goals?
The sentence had elicited a genuine smile. Before her mother’s car accident, before her life had changed so dramatically, she’d been an honors student at Stanford, working toward her bachelor’s degree in history. She’d planned on getting her master’s, then a doctorate so she could be a university professor.
Someday…
In her heart of hearts she still held out hope of resuming her life at some point — accomplishing the goals she’d set for herself. But instant guilt filled her whenever that hope entered conscious thought. Her mother would have liked to have her life back, too, but she never would. It was only fair that Ari make sacrifices. Ari had to atone for her sins.
Her mother had sacrificed for her entire life so that Ari could have what she needed. She’d paid for Ari’s education at a small private school, and then she’d scrimped and saved to send her to the best college. Ari had earned scholarships, but her mother paid for her room and board and even her beloved car.
Ari had never realized how much her mother had given of herself until the day her mom had been checked into the hospital. Circumstances now demanded that Ari grow up quickly, without having her mother to lean on. She was now responsible for her mom’s care — and Ari was failing at her new role in life.
Since the day of her mother’s car accident, their lives had been filled with utter trepidation and uncertainty.
Thankfully, the Palazzo Corporation had called her back. But the second interview had been more odd than the first. She’d been put through a fitness test. They’d had her run on a treadmill for half an hour, timed her as she navigated an obstacle course, and then tested her endurance.
She’d run track all through high school and continued her running at college, so the physical aspect hadn’t been a problem, but with each step she’d taken in the odd interview process, she’d felt rising concern about what she was applying for.
All they'd offered in response at the second interview was that it was a private position with the CEO of the corporation. Maybe she was expected to dodge bullets in other countries he was invading? She’d heard rumors that his businesses weren’t always welcome overseas — that some of the governments thought he was overstepping his bounds.
From the research Ari had done, the people normally welcomed him, as he paid high wages and offered excellent benefit packages. A lot of the time it seemed it was other businesses that wanted to keep him out because when he came in, he conquered, no matter what industry he was pursuing. So she knew that if she got the job, she’d have security. People rarely quit when they worked for the Palazzo Corporation.
The pay for the position was high enough to give her mother good medical care and still leave enough left over for her to save up — possibly getting her back to school within a couple of years. At this point, she’d do almost anything to be hired.
“Ms. Harlow, if you aren’t going to take this interview seriously, you may exit the way you came in,” Mr. Palazzo said in an irritated tone, snapping her back to the present.
“I’m sorry. I truly am. I do take this interview very seriously,” she quickly answered, hoping she hadn’t missed a question.
<
br /> “I won’t repeat myself again — do you understand?” Before she could answer, he continued. “I asked if you’re available all hours. I don’t mean Monday through Friday. This job requires your availability to me seven days a week, night and day. There will be times I won’t need you for extended periods, and other times I’ll need you with me for several days straight. There may be travel involved. The bottom line is that you must have zero other commitments. If that doesn’t work for you, this interview is over.”
Ari felt a lump in the back of her throat as she struggled to hold in the tears threatening to spring to her eyes. She finally gazed into his unusually colored eyes, getting her first solid look at them.
She’d heard about his type of eyes before, with something called heterochromia iridis, where two colors were present. His had a deep purple center around the pupil, fading into a gorgeous midnight blue. They were mesmerizing — intriguing — capturing her gaze, even though they were narrowing intensely right then.
“I have no other commitments. I’m available,” she told him, inwardly crossing her fingers. She was committed to her mother, but with this money she wouldn’t have to worry about her mom’s care. She’d go see her when she had those downtimes he was speaking of. If she didn’t get in to see her mom for a month, she’d be devastated, but her mom would be in good hands, and, most importantly, she wouldn’t notice since she was in a coma.
“What about your mother?” he asked, as if reading her mind, his gaze boring into hers. She was stunned by the question, leaving her silent for a couple of seconds too long.
“How do you know about my mom?”
“I know everything I need to know about you, Arianna,” he replied with a slight lifting of the corner of his mouth.
His expression was far too knowing and she immediately felt the urge to flee. Something wasn’t right; something was telling her to get out while she still could. She was in over her head — she could feel it. All signs pointed to jumping from the chair and rushing out his door. But no. Loyalty to her mother kept her seated where she was.
Emily: Sex and Sensibility Page 22
