Ian rubbed his sternum again.
We get what we deserve. Her parting words, and his wish for her. If that meant he had to deal with heartburn for the rest of his life, then so be it.
The door opened, stopping him in his tracks. “I got a message to come see you— Crap, you don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when it matters,” Ian replied. Crossing the room in two strides, he reached over the teenager’s head to shut the door. “I’m not letting you walk away this time.”
“Seriously? You’re not letting me walk away.”
Ian winced. The kid wasn’t making things easy, but Ian held his ground. Today’s visit wasn’t about him. He was here to set Matt free, and for Chloe. So she’d know he cared enough to fight. “Five minutes. And when I’m done, you never have to speak with me again.”
Matt stared at the oak door. The kid was wavering. Otherwise, he would have walked out by now. “How much did it cost you to get Dean Zobreist to do your dirty work?” he asked.
“You don’t want to know.”
“I hope you get your money’s worth.”
“I already have. You’re still here.”
“Okay.” He turned around and folded his arms across his chest. “Five minutes,” he repeated, chin jutting forward. “Four minutes and thirty seconds actually.”
Talk about a chip off the old block. Ian took a deep breath. “I was wrong to surprise you the other day. I—I wanted us to reconnect so badly, I didn’t stop to think about how you might feel.”
“So you decided to surprise me again to apologize.”
There was a certain irony to the arrangement, wasn’t there? “Not to apologize. To give you this.” Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out a letter. His final letter of amends. “This explains everything that happened over the last thirteen years. When you’re ready, I hope you’ll read it. After, if you want to talk, you call me. I’ll meet you whenever and wherever. You call the shots.”
Matt stared at the envelope. “That’s it?”
“Unless you want to talk now.”
“I’m not—”
“Ready. I know.” Ian stepped away from the door. Matt immediately reached for the handle. “I love you very much, Matt. I always have.”
“You have a funny way of showing it,” his son replied.
“Love isn’t always visible. Someday I hope you’ll realize that my being around would have only made things worse for you.”
The teenager started through the door, only to stop and turn around. “I believe you, you know,” he said, the words going straight to Ian’s heart. “But it would have been nice if I’d had a choice.”
He was getting one now. For the third time in three days, Ian let someone he cared about walk away, and it ripped his insides in two.
* * *
He waited until he was back in his car before calling Jack.
“How’d it go?” the lawyer asked.
“About as well as could be expected. At least he didn’t throw the envelope in my face.”
“Good news there. Who knows? Maybe the kid’ll come around someday.”
“Maybe,” Ian replied. Although he didn’t think he’d hold his breath, waiting for the moment. There were many layers of resentment and disappointment to be worked through even if Matt did read his apology. Could scars like that ever truly be healed?
Ian thought of Chloe, who was still hoping for an explanation from her own father, and wondered. Wondered if the man ever sat in his car kicking himself for ignoring such a beautiful, unique, amazing woman. If so, Ian hoped the guy felt as guilt-ridden as he did.
He let his head fall back against the headrest. “Do you think I was right to keep my distance all those years?”
“Between the alcohol and the Jeanine factor, you can certainly put forth a good argument. Why?”
“Just wondering. Matt said something on the way out the door. Made me wonder how bad the damage would have been had I stayed in touch.”
“I’m going to guess there would be damage caused either way. You were a bastard until you got sober, or did you forget?”
“How could I when I’ve got you to remind me?”
“True.” There was a brief silence on the other end. Ian could picture the lawyer grinning. “What exactly did he say, anyway?”
“He accused me of not giving him a choice.”
“Of course you didn’t. He was five years old and you were...”
“A drunk, I know.” Chances were, if he’d stayed, he would have inflicted the same damage on Matt that his father had inflicted on him.
“Either way,” Jack continued, “there’s little you can do about your decision now. What’s done is done. Best you can do, if you did make a mistake, is try to fix things, and hope you don’t make the same mistake again.”
The thing was, had he learned? All the way back to the city, Ian couldn’t shake the notion that he’d forgotten a piece of the lesson.
Matt’s comment kept ringing in his head: I didn’t have a choice. Jack was right, of course. The kid had been five years old at the time. Ian walked away to protect an innocent boy. He couldn’t offer Matt a choice. Maybe, if he’d been an adult...
You mean like Chloe?
Crap. Ian practically slammed on the brakes, the thought reared up on him so abruptly. What did Chloe have to do with all this?
A stupid question. She and Matt had been twisted together for days now. Think of Matt’s abandonment and Chloe’s story wasn’t far behind. Picture Matt’s angry face and Chloe’s disappointed expression followed. Hell, think of anything and thoughts of Chloe tagged along. In a few short days, she’d managed to permanently attach herself to his brain. More than his brain, he amended, rubbing at the hole in his chest.
The more he thought about it, given their shared childhood experiences, the commonalities between Matt and Chloe didn’t surprise him. Ian wondered if his son faced the world with the same edge and bravado. The first day she’d strutted her way into his coffee shop...man, but she’d looked so sassy. He realized now she wore her attitude like a shield. All her talk about not being the relationship type? Her way of getting out in front of any hurt the world might deal her.
It’s what she’d been doing yesterday morning, too. He could tell because her eyes had the desperate sheen to them that came from trying too hard.
But when she dropped her defenses... Then those eyes grew so soft and vulnerable, a man could drown in them. Ian could see her now. Eyes brimming with emotion in the firelight. She’d given him a gift, he realized. A window into a part of her she didn’t share with too many people. That glimpse stole his heart.
Who was he kidding? She’d stolen his heart the moment she gave Aiden a peppermint latte shower. All Saturday night did was cement her hold on Ian.
But he’d pushed her way. Just like with Matt, he’d pulled back because he’d decided distance was for the best. He took away her choice.
“Idiot.” Ian added a few other choice adjectives as well while pounding the steering wheel. All his talk about no longer being selfish, and here he was, being as selfish as ever.
How many losses would he have to endure before the lesson kicked in? His son, his company, years of sobriety—all lost because of his stubbornness. His insistence on doing things his way. And now here he was, insisting he knew best again. He’d already lost Matthew. Did Ian want to be sitting in his car twenty years from now, mourning Chloe, too? Because Lord knows, he wouldn’t find another woman like her again. She was one of a kind.
The car behind blared its horn, then passed him on the right, the driver offering up an obscene gesture on the way by. Ian started to glare in return until he glanced at the speedometer and saw he’d slowed down to thirty miles an hour. He needed to get his mind off Chloe before he caused an accident.
Would if it were that easy, he said to himself as he pulled over a lane. The upcoming exit sign caught his eye and he gasped. Looked like the universe was full of messages today, wasn’
t it? Flipping on his direction signal, he eased right again and prepared to turn off the highway. Same exit he and Chloe had taken leaving the Bluebird. With luck Josef and Dagmar would have a room he could use for a few days. He had a lot of thinking to do.
* * *
“They look great together, don’t they?” Larissa asked with a sigh. “So much in love.”
So much in love it hurt, thought Chloe. She licked the cinnamon from the rim of her appletini and watched Delilah get twirled around the dance floor by her new husband. Their friend had two left feet. Every so often she would trip over her partner, the stumble sending both of them into giggles and kisses. They were perfect for one another.
They danced in the center of a lantern-lit floor. The Landmark Hotel ballroom had been bathed in white satin for the evening, the only color being the blue of the centerpiece flowers, which coordinated with the attendants’ dresses. Beautiful and perfectly matched. Like the couple on the dance floor.
One of the groomsmen approached the table. “Would one of you ladies like to dance?” he asked. Chloe sipped her drink and pretended not to hear him, leaving Larissa to smile and take his hand. Not, however, before shooting a quick glare in her direction.
She should probably feel bad about throwing La-roo under the bus, but honestly, she didn’t think her friend truly minded, and even if she did, she would still make a far better dance partner. While she might be heartbroken, Larissa still loved weddings, and was pouring her all into enjoying this one. Chloe, on the other hand, had all she could do to keep a smile on her face. It wasn’t that she didn’t wish her friends every happiness in the world. She did. It was that every time she looked at Simon and Delilah, she saw a happiness she’d never have. Seeing them was like sticking a knife in her heart.
Nearly five days had passed since she’d closed the door on Ian. Four days since she’d seen his face, heard his raspy voice. The sucker in her insisted on visiting the coffee shop every morning, looking for his ginger-scruffed face sitting at the front table, only to be disappointed. According to Aiden, Ian hadn’t returned from his “getaway.” She wondered if he wasn’t simply avoiding her.
Shouldn’t the pain hurt less by now? She licked more cinnamon and wondered. Granted, this level of heartache was new, but she hoped she’d be feeling better. That the emotions ripping her apart every time she thought of his name would begin to fade. No such luck. It appeared that when Ian went, he’d left behind a giant hole too big for filling.
“Why aren’t you dancing? You should be dancing.” A giddy Delilah, her eyes glittering manically, plopped down at the table. “That dress looks way too stunning to be stuck behind a table.”
“Larissa’s showing the dress off for us both,” Chloe replied. “I need to stay on alert in case important maid of honor business comes up.” It was the same excuse she’d been using for two days to avoid socializing.
Apparently Delilah had figured out her plan, because she waved off the excuse. “Your duties are officially over. I’m Simon’s problem now. Wait, that didn’t come out right.”
“How much champagne have you had to drink?”
“Not as much as you’d think. I’m simply really, really, really happy.” As if Chloe couldn’t tell. Delilah’s face glowed so brightly she could power Manhattan and half of Brooklyn, too.
“I’m glad,” she replied, meaning it sincerely. “You deserve happiness.”
“Thanks. I can’t help feeling a little guilty, though, what with you and Larissa having such rotten weeks.”
“Don’t you dare! No guilt allowed on your wedding day, Mrs. Cartwright. Larissa and I will be fine.” Chloe looked over at her fellow bridesmaid, who was chatting away with her dance partner. “In fact, I think La-roo will bounce back quite nicely.”
“What about you?”
She managed a smile for Delilah’s sake. “I’ll bounce back, too.” Eventually. She was nothing if not resilient.
“I hope so,” Delilah replied. Before Chloe could say another word, she gathered her in a tight hug. Wrapped tight, Chloe allowed the emotion to bubble to the surface. She squeezed her eyes and her friend.
“For the record,” Delilah whispered in her ear. “Ian Black’s an ass.”
Chloe sniffed back her tears. “Yes,” she said, “he is.”
The moment was interrupted by the band leader speaking into the microphone. “May I have your attention, please. It’s time for the bride to toss the bouquet.”
“Oh man,” Chloe groaned. “I thought you decided not to.”
“Larissa insisted.”
Of course she did. With luck her friend would catch the foolish thing, too. Chloe sat back to sip her drink.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Delilah took the glass from her hand. “As maid of honor you’re required to be on the dance floor.”
“You said my duties were over!”
“I lied.”
Standing on a dance floor fighting over who caught a bunch of flowers was the last thing she felt like doing, but since Delilah and Larissa had their hearts set on it, she would go join the crowd. Someone else could do the catching, though, she decided, grabbing her drink. She made her way to the back of the area while a beaming Simon led his bride to the stage. Delilah grinned at the crowd, turned her back and tossed the flowers high. Too high, it turned out. The bouquet struck the chandelier and ricocheted straight down, landing at Chloe’s feet.
A tuxedo-clad arm reached down to retrieve the fallen blossoms. “What’s the matter, Curlilocks? Rebounding a little rusty?”
Silk over sandpaper ran down her spine, stilling her heart. Slowly she turned. This couldn’t be real. Ian was not standing there clutching a bunch of limp flowers.
He offered the bouquet with a cautious smile. “Thought maybe you could use a dance partner.”
She tossed the appletini in his face.
* * *
“Are you nuts?” Larissa and Delilah had cornered her in the ladies’ lounge.
“Three days!” she snapped at them. “Tells me I deserve better and then takes off for three solid days. Do you have any idea how miserable I was? Now he shows up acting like nothing ever happened. What did he think I would do—throw myself in his arms? Who does he think he is?”
She pressed her hands to the marble vanity, hoping the coolness beneath her palms would help sort the feelings swirling inside her. “What is he doing here?”
“My guess would be he’s here to see you,” Delilah replied.
“In a tuxedo,” Larissa added.
“Don’t go there.” Chloe should have known the blonde would find Ian’s appearance romantic. “Every man in the room is wearing one.”
“Every man in the room didn’t crash the wedding,” she shot back. “He came to see you. Maybe he wants to try again.”
For how long? Until she got her hopes high enough for him to dash again? “And what if I don’t want to?”
“What are you talking about?” Larissa’s reflection stared at her in disbelief. “You’re crazy about him. You told me so yourself.”
Maybe so, but she wasn’t crazy enough to have her heart stomped on a second time. She wouldn’t survive. “He should have acted while he had the chance. I don’t think I’m interested anymore.”
“That’s a crock and you know it. You’ve been going to that damn coffee shop twice a day, hoping to see him. Now he shows up and you say you’re not interested? Pul-leeze. I’m blonde, not stupid.”
“All right, fine!” Chloe should have known her indifference act wouldn’t work. “So I’m crazy about him. How do I know he’s going to stick around this time? That he isn’t going to make a whole bunch of promises and take off? Face it,” she said, staring down at the marble. “Men suck.”
“Not every guy leaves,” Larissa said.
“Tom did.”
“Simon didn’t.” Delilah appeared next to her. “Do you remember before Simon and I got engaged? When we were having problems, and the two of you helped him tr
ack me down to talk?”
“Of course I remember. But you and Simon were a completely different situation. The two of you were miserable without each other.”
“And you’ve been miserable all week.”
“Look,” Larissa said, “no one is saying you have to give Ian any kind of chance. He broke your heart, and if you want to kick him to the curb, then we’ll help. Before you do, though, aren’t you the least bit curious to know why he tracked you down?”
Chloe had to admit she was. Her friends had a point. She should hear him out. If for no other reason than to keep her hopes at bay. Then she’d kick him to the curb.
“He’s right outside, waiting,” Delilah told her. “He wanted to come in and corner you himself, but we convinced him it would be safer if we did.”
With her heart stuck somewhere between her chest and her throat, Chloe opened the lounge door. Ian stood across the corridor, wiping the front of his shirt with a napkin. “I forgot how lethal you were with a glass of liquid,” he remarked when he saw her.
“You caught me by surprise.”
“Clearly.”
No wonder Larissa had pointed out the tuxedo. Ian might be dressed like the other guests, but none of them wore the suit nearly as well.
“They told me at the coffee shop you were out of town?” Not the question she’d planned to ask, but the first one to pop out of her mouth nonetheless.
“I went back to Pennsylvania.”
“To see Matt again?” Did that mean Ian hadn’t given up on his son, after all?
That still didn’t mean anything had changed between the two of them, she reminded herself when hope threatened to blossom. Matt was his flesh and blood.
“I decided to change tactics. One of the things we learn in rehab is amends aren’t about you. They are about making things right for the other person. I was so focused on completing my plan, I forgot.”
“How’d it go?”
“Verdict’s still out.”
Swept Away by the Tycoon Page 15
