by Tessa Teevan
I’m at a complete loss. The entire encounter was baffling. What are his secrets? What could he possibly have to say that would explain the way he’s treated me or how hot and cold he’s been? And he knows about Rafe and me, yet doesn’t care?
As my mind goes round and round, trying to decipher his secrecy, I can appreciate that Adrian recognizes how he’s been treating me. But what doesn’t escape me is that he has yet to apologize. He doesn’t care—and probably never has cared—about my needs or my wants.
It’s crazy how things have drastically changed in the last few weeks. Adrian doesn’t cause my body to stir or my heart to flutter, and I realize we’ve been over for far longer than I knew. His parting words, although unsettling, don’t change how I feel. No explanation will change these last six months.
Rafe, on the other hand, feels like a new beginning, and instead of stifling me, he’s encouraging me to grow. He’s giving me the space and freedom he thinks I need when, in reality, all I want is to be with him. Sure, there may be a parallel to how my relationships with these two began, but that’s where the similarities end.
Two quick interactions with both of these men in the span of an hour tell me all I need to know. There really is no question.
But as I climb the stairs to get ready for my weekend, there’s still that niggling doubt in the back of my mind that wonders if this is all too soon, all too fast. Am I destined for the same fate if I’m not careful? Or do I run the risk of missing out on the love of a lifetime if I let my fear rule my actions?
Somewhere, deep down in my soul, I know that Rafe is different, and I refuse to let fear consume me. As I prepare for our weekend together, I let the anticipation of our upcoming date wash over me, and everything else melts away.
By the time the doorbell rings, I’ve forgotten all about my encounter with Adrian. I’m giddy all over again at taking the next step with Rafe. As I take one last look at the guestroom and walk down the stairs, I’m more than ready to close this chapter of my life and start a new one.
So why, in the back of my mind, am I terrified?
As I reach for the door, I push the doubts away. I know I should tell Rafe that Adrian was here, but the last thing I want to do is place a cloud over our first official date. Instead, I let my excitement consume me. I’m beaming from ear to ear, practically bouncing on my toes when I pull it open. He’s standing there, looking absolutely delicious in a pair of low-riding jeans and a blue button-down shirt that’s rolled up to show off his muscular forearms. The hue of his shirt makes his eyes seem even more azure than they normally are, and I could lose myself in them. His eyes rake over my body, and a blush creeps onto my cheeks. I’m dressed in a simple, little, black sundress that accentuates my curves.
“I know you said dressed up, but most of my fancy clothes are from him and I don’t want to wear those for you . . . or ever again. Luckily, I had the wherewithal to keep some of my old stuff in the back of my closet, and this was the best I could do,” I tell him with a shrug.
His hand comes up to brush a curl behind my ear. “You look beautiful, Brie. It doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. You are breathtaking as always.”
My blush deepens, and he laughs, taking my hand and walking me towards a sleek, black car that replaced his work truck. We make small talk as he drives us to a restaurant downtown, and I delight in being with him on an actual date. It’s completely comfortable in this cozy setting that is neither flashy nor opulent. I can’t even remember the last time I ordered a meal for myself, and Rafe doesn’t even mind that it takes me a good ten minutes to decide what I want.
As we settle into our meals, I put my fork down and look around, reveling in the fact that we’re out together, in public, like a real couple. When my eyes come back to the table, he’s looking at me with amusement.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Brie?”
“This . . . Just everything. It’s slightly overwhelming, yet it feels so right, doesn’t it?”
“Nothing’s ever felt more right.” He smiles as he grabs my hand from across the table. “I know you weren’t sure if this was what you wanted, but thank you for giving us a chance.”
I smile softly as his thumb rubs the top of my hand. “You know . . . I once told you no one ever called me Brie, but that was a lie.”
His thumb stops its soothing strokes.
I’m quick to continue. “My . . . It was my parents. They used to call me that when I was little. Once I got into junior high, I thought Gabriella sounded so much more sophisticated.” I pause, a small laugh escaping my lips as I shake my head. “Even though I kept insisting they not call me Brie, my dad always did. It seems so silly now, caring about my name, because I’d give anything to hear him say Brie one more time.”
“Brie,” he whispers, leaning forward, his eyebrows narrowing with concern. “I had no idea.”
A lone tear spills over, and I’m quick to wipe it away and smile at him. “I know, and I think that’s what makes it special. I’ve never allowed anyone else to call me by that name, but the first time you did, I didn’t want you to stop. When you call me Brie, I feel special. At home. Maybe even at peace a little bit. That sounds crazy, I know, but . . . it’s part of what drew me to you.”
He sets his napkin down and inches his chair forward. “Brie, will you tell me about them? I meant what I said about getting to know you. I want to know everything about you. You’ve completely captivated me, and I want to know you better than anyone else ever has.” His eyes tell me that he means every word.
Can I do this? Can I talk about this? I never even did with Adrian. I haven’t with anyone.
“Everything?” I ask before anxiously swallowing a drink of my wine.
“Every little detail,” he replies, his gaze unnerving. “I want to know it all.”
Letting out a slow breath, I decide I can do this. In fact, I want to. It’s been so long, and I’m finding that I want to tell him all about them and my previous life. Before I can begin, however, Rafe reads my expression.
“Would you be more comfortable if we did this somewhere else? We can go back to my place for more privacy.”
“Mr. Matthews, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get in my pants,” I tease, loving how at ease he puts me. He always seems to know exactly what I need.
“You don’t know better, Ms. Latham. My intentions aren’t pure, but I promise we’ll talk first,” he offers with a smug grin.
Because I might break down, privacy sounds perfect. “That would be nice. Let’s go home, Rafe,” I tell him.
His eyes flash as my words register. My cheeks flush at the implication, but neither of us says anything about it as he pays the check.
The drive to his place is quick and silent, and I wonder if he can hear the pounding of my heart as we pull into an apartment complex. This is it. I’m actually here with him for the first time. Nervous excitement flows through me as we exit the car and ride the elevator to his floor.
We enter the apartment, and he gives me a quick tour. The apartment is just I’d expect a single man’s to be—practical furniture, a massive flat screen. And when he leads me to the bedroom and drops my overnight bag, I cock an eyebrow up at the enormous king-sized bed.
He catches my eyes and gives me a wicked grin. “I have plans for you later,” he winks, and I laugh as we head back down the hall.
I’m surprised at how bare the walls are. When I mention it, he brushes it off, claiming that he hasn’t lived there long or had a chance to decorate. He grips my hips and leads me to the kitchen as he places his face in the crook of my neck.
“Plus, baby, I haven’t had a woman here until now, and I wasn’t about to let my mom decorate the place.”
He lets go when we enter the kitchen, and I wait as he pours two glasses of red wine. Then he leads me to the living room. I settle on the edge of the couch, my feet out in front of me, and I frown when he sits on the other end.
“Why are
you all the way over there?” I question.
He shakes his head at me. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to have you here. A thousand wicked thoughts of what I want to do and where are going through my mind, but I promised we’d talk, and that’s what we’re going to do first.”
Desire twists in my belly, and I tilt my head at him. “We have all weekend to talk. I’m more interested in your plans.”
“Mmm mmm,” he chides, shaking his head. “Talk first. I meant it, Brie. I want to know you. Everything.”
I let out a loud sigh so he knows my displeasure, but he just smiles over the top of his glass as he takes a sip. Flipping my shoes off, I curl my legs up and settle in, wondering how fast I can tell my story.
“Let’s see . . . I grew up in a small suburb just outside of Chicago. My dad was an accountant in the city, and even though his commute was hell, my parents insisted that city life wasn’t for them. I was an only child—not by choice. My mom had complications after she had me, so I was their one and only. I can probably skip through my childhood. Nothing exciting, really. When I went to college—Northwestern—I enrolled in the art history program. I spent so many weekends as a kid at the museums in Chicago, and it was all I wanted to do. My father warned against it, but I didn’t listen, and Mom supported me. Turns out, he was right. It’s how I ended up a college graduate turned receptionist,” I tell him, smiling wistfully at the memory of discussions about my collegiate future.
He smiles. “I’m a college graduate turned construction worker, so I get it.”
I take a sip of my wine then study him. “I had no idea.” I realize how little I know about him and make a mental note to remedy that this weekend.
Something flashes in his expression, but it’s gone in an instant. “I don’t use it, so there’s no reason you would’ve known.”
“You own your own business. I’d call that using it. Plus, it’s much more than I’m doing.”
“I suppose,” he agrees before changing the subject back to me. “So, how did you end up here in Philadelphia?”
“My parents,” I inform him as I let out a deep breath, hoping I can keep it together enough to talk about them. “They, umm . . .”
“It’s okay, Brie. You can tell me,” he reassures, and I smile softly as tears well in my eyes. “What happened?”
I brush one escaped tear away. “Sorry. I’m not used to taking about them. In fact, I don’t ever.”
His eyes soften. “If you’re not comfortable . . .”
I wave a hand. “No, I’m okay. I actually want to tell you about them.”
He nods, and I continue.
“It was my sophomore year of college. Every year for spring break, our family took a vacation. That year, we were supposed to go to Paris. It was my dream to see the Louvre. Mom’s, too. I couldn’t wait to lay my eyes on all of those beautiful art pieces in one place. At the last minute, something came up with Dad’s work and he couldn’t go. They wanted to postpone the trip, and I was devastated, but what was a few weeks? Still, I was pouting, and Dad, always wanting to make his little girl happy, sent me on a spa weekend as soon as I finished midterms.”
I pause to take a sip of wine, steeling my nerves for this next part. “Mom was supposed to come, but she ended up with the flu the night before we were set to leave. They both insisted that I go, and I did. Twenty-four hours later, they were dead, and I was being escorted to the morgue to identify their remains.”
“Fuck, Brie,” he whispers, moving across the couch and pulling me into his arms.
My chest heaves, and tears spill over onto my cheeks. Soft sobs rack through me as I relive those final moments, but the way he strokes my hair and whispers my name soothes me. Wiping my eyes and sniffling, I pull away and sit up, composing myself.
“For so long, I felt guilty, knowing that I should’ve been there, dying right beside them, but then I was selfishly happy I was gone, that I was still alive.”
His hand comes my thigh, where he soothingly caresses it. “Baby, never, ever feel guilty for that. If I had to guess, if they saw what was coming, their last thoughts were how grateful they were that you weren’t home. They’d never have wanted that for you.”
Something strange niggles in the back of my mind. How did he know they had been home at the time? Oh, God, Adrian’s made me paranoid. I brush it off, telling myself that I’m being silly. He’s nothing if not observant, and since I mentioned being away, he must’ve just put two and two together.
“I know that now. It just took me a while to figure it out. I was angry for so long, and I just shut down. All of my friendships went by the wayside. No one really knew how to deal with me, and I didn’t want to deal with them. Packing up and moving to a city where no one knew me seemed like the right answer.”
“So, why Philadelphia?”
“Philadelphia was one of our favorite places to visit as a family, and I thought I’d feel closer to them, being able to visit all the places we used to go. Instead, it just made me feel lonelier. I’d hoped to get a job at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, but that was wishful thinking. I was lucky enough to get the receptionist job. It paid the bills, barely. I was in over my head by the time I met Adrian, and I think I was so eager for someone to take care of me that I fell all too quickly, too easily.”
As I say the words, I’m aware that I’ve done the same thing all over again. Will I ever learn? Do I even want to?
“Why the struggle? Did your parents leave you nothing?”
I shake my head, wishing I could answer that question myself. “No. There was barely enough to cover their funeral expenses. I had to take out loans to finish school and to pay my living expenses while I did.”
He frowns and cocks his head as if he’s trying to put the pieces together. “Your dad worked in the city? What’d he do?”
“He was an accountant at a high-end firm. It made no sense, and I had no inclination my parents were in any sort of financial trouble. Especially not since he’d had a Paris vacation planned. But when the attorneys for his estate showed up, that’s all that was there. So I packed what I could, and as soon as I was done with school, I moved.”
A grimace curls on his face as I tell him of the loneliness I felt after my parents’ deaths, but he lets me continue. It isn’t until I admit how easily I fell for Adrian’s charms that a strange look crosses his face, and he lets out a deep sigh. Taking my hand, he soothingly rubs his thumb along mine.
“I know that it’s only been a few weeks, but I hope you’re comfortable enough to trust that I’m not like that. We are not like that. I’m an open book, Brie, and anything you want to know about me, I’ll tell you.”
“I know,” I respond, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “I know that this is different. It feels different. In the best way possible.”
He nods, giving me a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s as if he’s not sure I’m convinced, but he doesn’t voice it. “So, what happened? Because the man I saw that day in the kitchen? He doesn’t sound like the charming one you fell for. How long was it before everything changed?”
“Are you sure you want to hear this?” I ask, knowing that this is strange territory for both of us. It’s not exactly first-date subject material.
“Yes, Brie. I said everything, and I meant it. I want to know it all. The good and the bad.”
With ease, I dive right in, feeling comfortable, and it’s surprisingly therapeutic to say it all out loud. “The first year, everything was great. For the first time since my parents died, I didn’t feel alone. I craved his attention, and he lavished me with it. Looking back, I realize he was slowly but surely isolating me—not that it took much. But at the time, I didn’t see it that way. I think getting me to quit my job and come work for him—if you can call it that—was the final step for him. I had no friends to miss me, no coworkers to spend time with. It was just him and me, and I loved it. I was completely reliant on him, and now that I’ve taken my rose-colored glasses off,
I can see what he was doing all along. I just don’t understand why. What was the purpose of it?”
Rafe shakes his head. “I have no idea. I hope you know, Brie, that you don’t have to work for me. Any time you want to find something else, I’ll support you. I promise.”
“I know that. You’re helping me get out of a bad situation, not putting me into another one. You’re nothing like him.”
“So, what made you decide that it was finally time to leave?” he asks.
Sighing, I take a sip of my wine before continuing. I still hate that he witnessed the end. “The panties were the final straw, but there was a multitude of things that were throwing red flags up before that. When we first met, he wouldn’t talk about his family. He just said he and his father were estranged and had been for some time. Something about not seeing eye to eye when it came to the family business.”
“Do you know who his father is, Brie?” he interrupts. His interest was piqued as soon as I mentioned the man.
“No, I have no idea.”
He studies me as if he’s not sure he believes it. “Adrian Morningstar’s the son of Theo Morningstar,” he tells me as if the name should ring a bell. It doesn’t.
“And?”
“He’s only one of the wealthiest men in the world, having made his billions through investments, which have been rumored to often be dirty dealings. Apparently, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
My brow wrinkles. “How do you know that?”
He shrugs. “I check out all of my clients. A quick Internet search told me everything I needed to know. Did you ever meet his father?”
“No, never. He told me they were estranged and that was that. Well, until about six months ago.”
“What happened six months ago?”
“That’s when everything started to change. One day, I went to take him to lunch and found him pacing in his office, looking distraught. He was on the phone and shooed me away, but once he came downstairs, he informed me that he had to go visit his father, something about a new deal they’d be working on together.”
