You Do Something to Me

by Bella Andre

  CHAPTER SIX

  The following Saturday, ten minutes before Gordon's service was to begin, the sun was just setting, the breeze was light, and the crowd clearly couldn't wait to be done with the eulogy and speeches so that they could hit the open bar.

  Gordon had been the master of making the rich and famous feel like kings, even when it was the last thing some of them deserved. He'd often joked that Alec couldn't be trusted not to tell them precisely what he thought of them. Alec had been more than happy to leave the spoiled rich clients to Gordon and spend the bulk of his workday growing the financial side of their business.

  Now, Alec was the only partner left at S&W Aviation to schmooze their clients. He was impressed by how many of them had come today. Then again, Gordon had spent many a night getting drunk with an actor who had just lost a key role, or playing to the vanity of a supermodel, or letting a royal beat him at poker.

  Alec wasn't looking forward to having to take over that side of the business. But he liked the idea of bringing in a new partner less, even one as pretty and intelligent as Cordelia. No question about it, she would hate every second. And who could blame her, when the garden center she'd built around herself was a perfect fit?

  Alec had managed to keep the orchid alive so far, out of sheer will. Killing it would be like severing his last tie to her.

  She wasn't going to come today. And he understood why. Cordelia might be more curious about Gordon than she wanted to admit, but ultimately he hadn't been anything more to her than a stranger. Just as Alec knew that he hadn't come to be anything more to her than a temporary business partner.

  Chalk and cheese, she'd called them. He'd looked it up online the night he'd left her cottage, when he hadn't been sleeping. The origins of the phrase were Middle English, 1390, from a text by John Gower. Alec had a crazy thought about driving back to her cottage and knocking on her door so that he could tell her.

  He'd gone to the gym instead, certain that a bruising workout would sweat this strangely emotional nonsense out of him. When she'd lingered in his head, he'd upped his weights, his speed on the treadmill, his laps in the pool. But still he thought of her.

  Even when he knew he shouldn't.

  Alec's father moved to his side. "How are you holding up? Do you need anything?"

  Drake and Suzanne had both made big strides with their father in the past year. It seemed that meeting the love of their lives had pushed them to finally break through their issues with him. For Alec, however, nothing had changed. He could see that his father was making an effort, but to what end? They couldn't go back and fix what had happened. William Sullivan would never be the father Alec and his siblings had needed when they were kids. Thankfully Alec, at least, was past the point of needing him.

  "Gordon would have appreciated the turnout," Alec said. It didn't answer either of his father's questions, but was true nonetheless.

  "He was a good man." Alec could feel his father's gaze on him. "I owe him a great deal for being there for you when I wasn't."

  His father didn't really think they were going to do this right now, did he? Have some sort of father-son bonding moment where tears were shed and all was forgiven?

  No. Not now.

  Not ever.

  "Alec--" his father began, but before he could say anything more, Alec was saved by the most unexpected thing in the world.

  Cordelia was walking in.

  "Excuse me." He made a bee-line for her.

  She didn't gape at people she'd probably only seen on TV and in magazines. She simply moved toward the open casket.

  "Cordelia." Alec stopped her a dozen feet from it. "I'm glad you're here."

  It wasn't until he got up close that he realized she was trembling, the faintest shaking of her entire body, head to toe. He didn't think, didn't second-guess his actions, simply put one arm around her, took her closest hand in his, and lowered his mouth to her ear. "Tell me what I can do to help."

  He heard her breath hitch in her chest. "Don't let go."

  Good thing that was her request, because there was literally nothing that could have made him let go of her. Not when she obviously needed someone to help get her through the moment when she was face to face with her father for the first--and the last--time.

  "I'm not going anywhere." He'd never said that to a woman he wasn't related to. It should have filled him with panic, should have made him want to bolt. But Cordelia didn't want anything from him beyond some support in a difficult moment. The kind of support he hadn't known how to ask for when he was a kid--support he had been too proud to accept.

  "I wasn't going to come today," she said softly. "But I couldn't stop thinking I'd regret it if I didn't."

  "If you take one look and then need to bolt, I'll help you do it. If you need me to kick everyone out of here so that you can be alone with him, I'll do that too. Just let me know when you're ready, and we'll go. Together."

  She lifted her beautiful eyes to his, as vibrant a green as anything growing in her garden. "I'm ready."

  He wasn't sure he believed her, but who could be ready for something like this? Sticking with her like glue, her skirt swishing around his legs as they walked together, he tuned out everyone else as they made their way to Gordon's casket. His family and their partners, his friends, Gordon's friends, more than a hundred clients--none of them mattered right now.

  Only Cordelia.

  *

  Cordelia's heart had never pounded so wildly, and she was only barely preventing herself from running as fast and far from this place--and from the man lying in the open casket--as she possibly could. Without Alec's arm around her, without his hand over hers to calm her, she wouldn't have made it this far. Would have turned and fled long before now.

  She hadn't told her parents anything about today. Hadn't even shared the news of her inheritance with them yet. She'd told herself she hadn't wanted to taint what they were to her, all they'd done for her, hadn't wanted them to feel inferior to all of Gordon's money showering down upon her.

  But that wasn't the real reason she hadn't told them yet. The truth was, she didn't know what to say. Didn't know if she should be sad, happy, or angry.

  She'd come here today in search of that answer, hoping that the moment she set eyes on Gordon, she'd settle down into choice A, B, or C. Or some combination of the three.

  But when she was finally there, was finally able to look down at the man with the strong chin and thick dark brows, the man from whom she'd obviously inherited her cheekbones and the shape of her ears, someone who looked so hearty that nothing could fell him, especially not a heart attack--she didn't feel anything at all.

  Every part of her, head to toe, was numb. Her ears were no longer working either, since all she could hear of the people around them was a steady hum, like a motor running.

  "Cordelia?"

  She had no idea if Alec had said her name once or a dozen times. The only reason she'd noticed at all was because he'd turned her with his hands on her shoulders so that she was looking into his face.

  "Are you okay?"

  She heard the words coming out of his mouth, understood what he was asking, but didn't have it in her to reply. Not yet. Instead, she turned to look one more time at the father she'd never had the chance to know, captured him in memory, then turned away.

  Alec guided her over to an empty seat and sat beside her, never letting go of her hand, just as she'd begged him not to. And in that moment, he was her only lifeline. He didn't ask her any more questions, simply stayed quietly with her, holding both hands now. She thought he might have said something to one of the men sitting nearby, but her numb haze was so thick she couldn't make out what was said.

  And then, a voice suddenly spoke through the microphone.

  "Thank you all for coming. Please take your seats." A man in a dark suit was standing at the podium, the same man Alec had spoken to just moments earlier. "My cousin Alec has asked me to say a few words for him." Suddenly it hit her--Smith Sulliv
an, the movie star, had stepped in for Alec. Somewhere in the back of her brain it occurred to her that they must be related, that Smith must be one of the many cousins Alec had mentioned.

  She wanted to tell Alec that he could go do what he needed to do, but when the words wouldn't come out, she nodded her head toward the front instead.

  "I promised I wouldn't let you go," was all he would say, and then he tucked her hands tighter into his.

  "I'd like to begin," Smith said, "by reading something Alec wrote for Gordon." He looked down at the paper in his hands and paused for a solemn moment before he began to speak. "Gordon used to joke about this day. About how it would probably rain and no one would come. But we both knew the sun wouldn't dare not to shine for him and that his friends would drop everything to be here to celebrate his life. He was a brilliant business partner, one I was lucky to connect with when I was still wet behind the ears. He was an even better friend. And that's who I'll miss most. You weren't perfect, Gordon, and I won't ever understand some of the choices you made, but I'll still miss you forever."

  A little part of Cordelia came back to life during the speech, enough that she squeezed Alec's hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered, but he just shook his head. And strangely, in that moment, she almost felt as if he needed her there as much as she needed him. So that he would have someone to hold on to.

  Especially as the speeches from Gordon's friends came. One long gush of emotion--whether laughter or tears--that spilled out for long minutes over everyone in the audience.

  Gordon was brilliant.

  Gordon wouldn't take any crap.

  Gordon was the hardest-working man I ever met.

  Gordon had a magnificent, booming laugh.

  Gordon liked--and was liked by--everyone.

  The words, the sentiments, crashed together in Cordelia's head. Inside her chest. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, the speeches were done, and people were rising from their seats, all of them heading toward Alec. She needed him with her--but she needed to be away from everyone else more.

  "Go." The one word from her lips was frantic. "You need to accept everyone's condolences."

  When it became obvious that he was going to refuse to leave her, just as he had when the service began, a woman sitting to Cordelia's left said, "I'll stay with her, Alec."

  But Alec didn't let go as he said, "Cordelia--"

  She yanked her hands from his, all but shoving him out of his seat and toward the throngs that were getting closer. Too close. "They need you." She'd already taken too much from him. He had already been far too kind.

  Finally, reluctantly, he got up and walked away. And she had to bite her lip to keep from calling him back.

  "I'm Suzanne, Alec's sister," the woman on her left said. "And these are our brothers, Harry and Drake. There are lots of other Sullivans here too, including our father, who is just over there." Alec's father was standing a few feet away from his son, close enough to step in if he needed him, but not close enough to crowd him.

  Cordelia finally looked into the faces of the people who had surrounded her and Alec like a protective bubble during the service. Harry and Drake looked a lot like Alec--handsome, strong, with kind eyes--and Suzanne was gorgeous. This was the family he'd spoken about. His beautiful, perfect, connected family. Alec hadn't had only them--he'd had Gordon too.

  "I need some air."

  Cordelia wasn't usually rude, but she was desperate to escape the emotions that had come roaring back out of that numb place it had been so nice to hide in for a little while. Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. Sadness.

  She knew she was a swirling mess--inside and out--as she ran from Alec's family. She'd taken a taxi here, hadn't trusted herself to drive safely to the service, and now she called another to come pick her up. She was told it would be there in ten minutes, which meant she now had a sixth of an hour to try to get back to that numb place. A little bit of the way there, at least. Thankfully, one of the many stand-up bars was directly in front of her.

  Cordelia had never been much of a drinker. Then again, she'd never been to the funeral of the birth father she'd never met either.

  She ordered the first drink that came to mind. "Gin and tonic. Light on the tonic." When it came, she tipped her head back and downed it in one long gulp, then handed back the empty glass. "Another, please."

  She was halfway through throwing back the second when Suzanne materialized at her side. "I know you probably don't want company right now, but I promise I'll just stand here in silent support if that's what you want."

  "It's fine," Cordelia said with a wave of her hand before she slid the glass back to the bartender and asked for a third. "Were you and Gordon close?"

  "Pretty close," Suzanne said with a nod and a smile. "He was in our lives for the past fifteen years that he and Alec were in business together. What about you?"

  "Never met the guy before." Cordelia grabbed her third drink, took a great big glug of it.

  Suzanne's eyebrows went up. "Wait. You've never met Gordon?"

  "Nope. So I'll bet you're wondering why I'm here, aren't you? And why I'm falling apart right in front of you."

  Suzanne paused a beat before saying, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

  Cordelia shrugged. "Why not?" She wasn't feeling much pain anymore. Thankfully, with the help of the gin, she'd almost achieved that numb feeling again. "Gordon was my father." She thought Suzanne might have gasped, and it actually pleased Cordelia to have shocked her. The last of her third drink went down smooth. Real smooth. "Sperm donor, anyway. My mother died having me and he gave me away. Hello and good riddance in one fell swoop." She put the empty cocktail glass on the tray of a passing waiter and grabbed a glass of bubbly for a change. "And now it turns out he willed me his half of the company. Just out of the blue, here's a billion dollars."

  "My God." Suzanne just stared at her. "No wonder Alec is acting so--"

  "Cordelia." Alec's arm slipped around her waist, and he looked down into her eyes. "How many have you had?"

  She shrugged again, wobbling when the small movement made her head spin. "Not enough."

  He turned to his sister, scowling. "Suz, I trusted you not to let things go south."

  "I know, and I'm sorry I didn't do a better job." Cordelia watched as his sister pinned him with a serious gaze. "But if it were me, I'd be drinking too."

  Both of Alec's eyebrows went up. Cordelia guessed that they were talking about her, but she was having a hard time following their conversation.

  He reached out to take the champagne from her hand. "Time to go."

  "No." She gripped her glass. "I'm having a good time." She took a defiant drink to show him just how much fun she was having. "Best time ever. How could I not, after hearing everyone wax on and on about how generous, how loving, how fatherly Gordon was to them?"

  "Anything I can help with?" A good-looking--and very large--man put his arm around Suzanne and gave her a kiss. "I'm Roman," he said to Cordelia.

  "Nice to meet you." The words didn't come out quite right. Nonetheless, Cordelia held out her empty glass to a waiter. "How about a refill?"

  Alec snatched it from her. "You've hit your limit."

  She went face to face, chest to chest, toe to toe with him. "I haven't even come close to hitting my limit yet."

  "Suz, Roman," Alec said over her shoulder, "let everyone know I appreciate their coming today, would you?"

  The next thing she knew, one of his hands was wrapped around her wrist and he was dragging her away from his perfect sister and his sister's gorgeous lover, away from the bar, away from the crowds. Away from the casket.

  And though Cordelia was glad for that part, if nothing else, she had to ask, "What do you think you're doing?"

  "Saving you from the worst hangover of your life. Although I'm worried I might already be too late."

  A sleek black sports car materialized from out of nowhere, and she was soon inside beside Alec, buckled up in the passenger seat, sp
eeding away from the funeral.

  "I'm not drunk," she tried to say. But this time the words definitely didn't come out right.

  "Don't worry," he said as he turned his gaze briefly from the road to look at her. "Once we get some coffee into you, you'll feel more like yourself."

  But she didn't want to feel like herself. Didn't want to let all those SadAngryHurt feelings back in. No, she'd much rather just keep floating between reality and fantasy.

  Before she could say any of this, however, he was stopping the car and undoing the buckle to help her out and into his home. And she supposed it was fortunate he was there, because her legs didn't work right either.

  "Jesus." He lifted her into his arms, and her breath whooshed from her lungs as she reached out to grip his shoulders. His very muscular shoulders. "How many glasses of champagne did you have?"

  "One."

  He looked down at her in disbelief, not missing a step as he took her into his fancy apartment. Then he leaned in closer, so close that she wondered if he was going to kiss her. He looked like he'd be an awesome kisser.

  Only instead of putting his lips against hers, he seemed to be sniffing her face.

  "Gin." He scowled. "You were drinking gin."

  "My parents drink it sometimes. On sunny afternoons."

  He laid her on the couch and knelt so that they were face to face. "Can I trust you to stay here while I make coffee? Or are you going to go rolling off the couch so that you can root around for more gin?"

  He really was a beautiful man. And even though he'd carted her away from the funeral like a sack of potatoes, he had been surprisingly nice before that. "I don't want coffee."

  She didn't want gin anymore either. It wouldn't help her forget, she knew that now. But something else might help her forget for a little while. Someone else might.

  "I want you to show me how you are with other women," she said. "I want you to show me how not nice you can be."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A string of curses shot through Alec's mind.

  That urge he'd had to kiss her in her cottage earlier that week hadn't gone away. On the contrary, it was stronger than ever now. So strong that he only barely managed to shift away from her.