by A. C. Arthur
“Can I buy you a drink?” she asked, nodding to his now, near-empty longneck. He almost choked on the last sip.
“You want to buy me a drink?” He had to laugh. Who was this woman? First, she strides into a dive bar where she clearly doesn’t belong, and then she offers him a drink? Every man in here would buy her two or three or ten.
“Is there something wrong with that?” A playful—even flirty?—smile crossed her lips.
Clearly, Cecily was a woman who flaunted convention. Well, that worked just fine by him. He didn’t care much for convention, anyway.
“Nothing at all wrong with that,” he said.
“Good,” she added, and signaled the bartender, ordering him another PBR, and her one, too. When the bartender put the bottles before them, she clinked her neck against his. “Hell with this day. Here’s hoping it turns around.” She took a big swig from the bottle and he wondered what could ever go wrong for a beautiful woman like this. He always imagined gorgeous women got pretty much whatever they wanted.
“You had a bad day, too?” he asked her, a bit of amusement in his voice.
“Sure did. I mean, did anyone in here have a good day?” She indicated the few grumpy patrons around the bar. Liam had to laugh at that.
“I bet not,” he agreed. People didn’t come to this dive to celebrate.
“So, how about you? Your day...was it bad...or the worst?” She seemed actually interested.
“The worst,” he admitted.
“Well, then, we’d better add Jameson shots to these, or we’re never going to get anywhere.” She signaled the bartender as Liam laughed then, despite himself. He liked this woman. She leaned over the bar to talk to the bartender and Liam noticed a flash of smooth skin at her neckline, the hint of cleavage visible. One of the straps of the dress fell down her left shoulder and she absently tugged it up again. He studied her shoulder, wondering if her skin was as soft as it looked. He felt want in him stir. Down, boy, he told himself. Not the right time.
The bartender set the Jameson shots in front of them, and the woman handed over her credit card for an open tab. Liam shook his head. He’d have to argue with the bartender later about who was paying for these drinks. He couldn’t very well let this beautiful woman carry him tonight.
“What should we drink to?” she asked him, blinking fast.
“Well, it is my birthday.”
Her pink lips parted. “Your birthday? Seriously?” She looked joyful, as if he’d just given her the best news. It had been a long time since anybody had cared about the day he was born, and probably longer since they’d been happy about it. He had a flash of his older brother Wilder scowling at him, the day the two nearly tore each other’s heads off, the last day he’d ever stepped foot in the Lange family mansion. “Well, then, to you, Liam. On your birthday. Sorry it’s been the worst.”
She gently clinked her shot glass against his, and their fingers touched as she did so. Was it just his imagination or did a current run straight up his arm and right to his groin? She put the shot glass to her delicate lips and drained it, then thumped it on the bar with a clunk. Damn, the woman was sexy. Liam followed suit, the Jameson sliding down his throat with only the slightest twinge of a burn. His eyes never left her. Part of him thought she was just a mirage and she’d disappear if he didn’t keep an eye on her. He still couldn’t believe she was sitting next to him, her exposed knee inches from his own. He probably should try to talk to the woman, but he kept thinking if he opened his mouth, she’d fly away, like a beautiful songbird.
“So, tell me, Liam,” she said, leaning forward. “Why’s your day been so bad?”
Terrible boss. Worse brother. A family feud that he’d long since grown tired of managing. And the fact that this day marked two occasions: his birth and his father’s untimely death. Where to start? “Birthdays aren’t really great for me,” he admitted.
“Why not?” Her blue eyes studied him with real concern. She seemed to actually care.
“My dad died. On this day, years ago.” Liam glanced down at the bar. “So, every day, I’m reminded that I was born, but he’s not here.”
Cecily’s face crumpled a bit. “Oh.” She bit her lip. “I’m so very sorry.”
Liam had been barely a teenager when his father passed, when he’d gone from being incredibly wealthy to having next to nothing nearly overnight. His oldest brother, Wilder, took over the company, mostly cut out his mother and his brothers. He’d listened to his mother complain bitterly about this for years, and he knew it wasn’t fair.
“I’m not talking to most of my family.” Liam shrugged. “After my dad died, well, my half brother kind of became a prick. And...” Liam couldn’t believe he was even getting into this. And with a perfect stranger. He never talked about Wilder. Never talked about the Lange dynasty. The millions, no billions, stolen from its rightful heirs. “Well, we disagreed on what should happen with Dad’s...uh...belongings. Wilder thought he should get most of it. I thought Dad would want it split between all four of his sons and his wife.”
Liam remembered trying to argue with his grown brother. He’d been just a kid, really. He never would get any traction. Then, his older full brother, Seth, and Liam’s twin brother, Stuart, they’d all just bought into Wilder’s lies. Took his side. Against him. Just because they were happy to take Wilder’s meager payouts. Liam felt the rest of the family deserved more. Much more. There wasn’t much point in staying in the family after that. As soon as Liam hit eighteen, he was gone. All he’d taken with him was a voting seat on the board of Lange Communications. Wilder had offered him millions for it. Liam had taken great joy in telling him to go to hell.
“Your brother took it all?” Cecily looked aghast.
“He took all that mattered.” Liam stared at the label of his beer bottle. “He took the valuable stuff.” As in, taking over Lange Communications, the cash cow and divvying up the tiniest of cash and stock payouts for the rest of them, which wasn’t nearly enough for his mother to live on or to pay for Liam’s private school tuition. His father never would’ve let that happen. But Wilder was a different story.
Wilder said Dad wanted him to take over the business, but Dad never mentioned that to Liam. Or anybody else. So, as far as Liam was concerned, Wilder could’ve simply made it all up. Liam was the one who’d convinced the board he was the natural choice to lead the company. And knowing his eldest brother, the control freak, the bossiest brother of all time, it was simply a straight-up power grab.
Cecily put her hand on Liam’s. The soft touch startled him.
“I’m sorry,” she said, eyes full of empathy. “That had to be terrible, fighting with your brother, especially after you just lost your dad.”
“Half brother,” he corrected. But Liam couldn’t stop staring at the woman’s delicate hand on his. There seemed to be more than comfort there. Something more like...an invitation. But was he imagining it?
“But grief does terrible things to people. Maybe he didn’t mean to do the things he did.”
Liam studied Cecily. She was a woman, he decided, who just tried to see the best in people. And maybe that was because people always put their best faces on around her.
“You’re being kind to him, but he doesn’t deserve it.” Liam waved a dismissive hand. Some people were just rotten. There was no helping them.
“Well, we can all use a little kindness, right?” She beamed at him, undeterred. “So, what can we do to cheer you up today? Nobody should be sad on their birthday.” She flashed another brilliant smile at him. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was have her naked in his bed. That would set things right. Maybe for all time.
He took a swig of beer to distract himself from those thoughts. She was too good for him. Too pretty. Too sweet. He hadn’t even showered from his day of sweaty outdoor work, and he was thinking of taking this lovely princess to his bed? His cramped Hoboken apart
ment with a stunning view of the brick building next door would not impress.
“It’s okay. Besides. I’m not the only person who’s had a bad day. Didn’t you say you were having a rough one? How come?”
Unease flickered across her face. “Yeah. I had a pretty rough day.” She bit her pink lip, as if trying to decide how much to share. He almost worried she’d blurt out something about a powerful rich husband. But, glancing at her left hand, he saw no ring. Nor, even, a white imprint of one she used to wear. “I got some bad news.”
“What kind?”
She studied him for a second, her resolve wavering. “I...uh. Lost my job. And my health insurance.”
“Seriously?” What crazy person would fire this gorgeous, sweet woman? A fool. That’s who. “Who would fire you? You’re...you’re...so...” Perfect. “Nice.”
“Aw, thanks, Liam.” An appreciative smile tugged at her mouth. “It was just layoffs. Nothing personal. It’s just about the corporation’s bottom line. I worked in HR for Yancy’s. The big department store chain?” Liam nodded. He knew it. Everybody knew it. They had a store at every mall, and in every downtown in America. But retail had taken a hit lately, especially with the economic downturn.
“Or, I guess I should say, worked.” She stared at her own beer bottle then, as if it were a crystal ball. “I can find another job—probably. It’s losing the health insurance...” She trailed off, as if the words had become lodged in her throat.
“Oh, you’ll be fine,” he told her. “Bet you get a new job and new insurance in just a month or two.”
She sent him a brave smile. “Yeah. Probably.”
Liam didn’t know what he’d said, but now she seemed sad. Despondent, even. Great job, man. You’ve brought her down somehow. But didn’t he always bring the mood down? Wasn’t that his specialty?
Why do you always have to be such a problem? Why do you always have to push everyone who cares about you away? Wasn’t that what Wilder had told him, the last fight they’d had face-to-face?
“I’m headed to the bathroom,” Liam said, standing. He glanced at Cecily’s pensive face. He figured he’d just give her time to slip out of the bar, and out of his life. She already had one mental foot out the door anyway, he could tell. Besides, she was out of his league. Way, way out of his league. The longer he sat next to her, the more likely he’d be to start getting his hopes up. And the way this day was going that was just a recipe for disaster.
“Oh? Okay.” She watched him as he headed back into the even darker parts of the bar and walked to the small, narrow hallway with the old bathroom sign on the wall and an arrow pointing to the basement downstairs. He barely made it to the basement, his work boot hitting the ground floor when he felt a soft touch on his elbow.
He turned then to see Cecily there, big blue eyes wide, pink lips parted. His brain didn’t understand what she was doing there, didn’t understand why she hadn’t taken the opportunity to sneak out the dive bar and be on her merry way. His brain didn’t get it, but his body seemed to instinctively understand exactly why she was standing on the steps above him, the extra height still not quite making her taller. She studied his eyes, then his lips. No explanation came. No reason why she’d followed him down this dark staircase.
But he knew then, suddenly, exactly why she’d come. The realization dawned just as she closed the distance between them and pressed her soft lips against his.
Copyright © 2021 by Cara Lockwood
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ISBN-13: 9780369702418
The Last Affair
Copyright © 2021 by Artist C. Arthur
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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