by Cecy Robson
Evan knows as much. “All right,” he says, giving me another kiss. “Don’t be long.”
“I won’t,” I assure him.
My cell phone rings as I hurry down the hall. Given all the hang ups on my office line, I almost hesitate to answer. “Yeah?”
“Wren, it’s Dee. I’m parked out front. You ready?”
“I’m coming,” I say. I don’t break my stride until I see Finn by the elevators, posing with fans for a picture.
“I didn’t know Finn O’Brien was your brother,” Alison squeaks as she walks by me.
“He is,” I tell her. I don’t think she hears me, too busy gawking at Finn.
He shakes the hands of the men he posed with. “Good to meet you,” he tells them, rushing to catch the elevator with me.
He punches the button to the elevator, waving to a few more people across the sea of cubicles who also seem to recognize him. “So you and Evan are shacking up, living in sin and all that good stuff?” Finn asks, his big grin making him look younger than he is.
“I didn’t move in,” I remind him. “I’m just staying with him.”
“You’ve been staying with him for a month, Wren. Just cause your shit’s still at my place doesn’t mean you aren’t living with Evan.”
“My shit is still in our place,” I correct.
“Why?”
My stomach lurches as the elevator speeds down to the lobby. “Because Ma gave that house to us,” I reply, although I know that’s not what he’s really asking me.
“You know what I mean.” The echoing sound of chatter wafts into the elevator when the doors part. Swarms of iCronos employees march forward, ready to jump into their day.
I know many by name. But with Finn here, I don’t stop to say hello. I follow him off to the side, knowing he parked in the deck, but that he isn’t done talking.
He leans against the black marble tile wall, beside a large palm stretching out toward the light streaming in through the glass atrium. “He’s nuts about you,” he tells me. “And it’s obvious you’re nuts about him right back. What’s stopping you from committing?”
“You mean besides Ma driving up from Florida to beat my ass?”
“I don’t think she would.” He thinks about it. “Much.”
“Much? Oh, yeah, that’s comforting.” I laugh, although for the most part, my brothers and I still know better than to piss her off.
“If you want the truth, I think Evan’s given her hope that you’ll give her another grandkid before your ovaries shrivel up and drop all their eggs, or whatever the fuck your womanly organs do.”
“Is that why you and Sol are officially living together? To spare her organs?” I nod when a few of staff walk by me with their coffee cups.
“No, she’s living with me ‘cause I love her, and I’m asking her to marry me.”
“Get the hell out of here,” I say, throwing my arms around him.
He lifts me up, laughing. “Yeah, can you believe it? I actually found someone who’ll put up with me, my dark past, and a clown car stuffed with crazy.”
As much as he’s joking, there’s a lot of truth to Finn’s dark past. Maybe that’s why I squeeze my little brother tighter. “She’s a good woman, and you’re great man, Finnie.” I release him slowly. “I’m real happy for you.”
“So does that mean you’ll help me pick out a ring?”
“You want me to help you pick out a ring?” I ask, punching his arm affectionately. “I’d be honored.”
“You helped pick out Tess’s and Sofia’s, it’s kind of tradition now.” He makes a face. “Besides it’s either you or Angus. He and Molly have been engaged for twenty non-fucking years. You think I want that kind of Karma or whatever the hell that’s called.”
“He loves her.” He cocks a brow. “In his own non-fucking way,” I add with a smirk.
He laughs again and gives me another hug. “Gotta run. I’ll call you about the ring, okay?”
“See ya, Finnie,” I say, watching him step into the elevator.
I start to walk away from the elevator when the doors close behind him, only to race across the lobby when I see Dee rushing toward the building. “God, I’m sorry,” I say pushing through the doors.
“It’s okay,” she says, tossing her long braids over her shoulders. “Was that Finn?”
“Yeah, Evan hired him as his personal trainer. It gives Finn an extra workout.”
She huffs. “It’s working. He’s huge. The last time I saw that boy, he was barely a man.”
“Tell me about it, I still remember when I was taller than him.”
Dee’s a friend of my old friend Mateo. She’s a single mom who just finished her college degree. I gave her a chance and holy shit she’s been a Godsend. We chat away as we head down to the local diner that’s been catering our breakfast meetings. I send a quick email to Anne, reminding her Evan wants to see her later today, so I don’t immediately notice the car that parks next to us.
Dee and I slip out, she hits the key fob to lock her doors at the same time their doors shut behind them. “That’s the great thing about whores,” one of the guys say as they catch up to us. “You don’t have to stop fucking with them. They can leave your bed, tell you they don’t want you. But they know you have them and can do anything you want to them.”
My gaze shifts toward Dee who rolls her eyes. Foul-mouthed assholes aren’t uncommon in any city, but the way this guy talks, he’s trying to make sure we hear him.
I throw open the door, letting Dee pass in front of me. But before I can follow, one of the guys shoots in front of me, the other guy at his heels, separating me from Dee and blocking my path.
They leer at me, dragging their stares down the length of my teal dress.
“Is there a problem?” I ask, jutting out my chin.
They exchange glances, laughing. “Hey, don’t I know you?” the closest guy in a white-muscle T-shirt asks.
“No, and you don’t want to,” I fire back.
Dee shoves her way between them. “Get away from her,” she says, clasping my wrist and dragging me forward.
I keep my attention on them as she pulls me into the diner. “Yeah. I do,” the guy says. “I’ve seen you at Ragtown.”
At first I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about, but then realize what he means, it’s all I can do to keep standing.
Ragtown. The bar where I met Bryant the night he screwed me over and showed me how toxic he really is.
“Hey!” The owner stomps over, his son directly behind him. “You giving these ladies a hard time?” he demands. The patrons at the counter gather toward us, their fists clenching as a few more leave their booths.
The owner doesn’t wait for them to answer. “Get the fuck outta my place.”
The guys don’t argue, knowing they’re outnumbered. They stomp back to their car and pull out, stopping long enough for the driver to roll down his window and yell my way. “By the way, ‘B’ says, hi.”
Motherfucker.
I race down the ramp, Dee and a few of the patrons chasing after me so I’m not alone. I snap a few pics with my phone just as they speed away.
“You okay?” Dee asks, at the same time the owner offers to call the cops.
“My brother’s a cop,” I say.
I text the pics to Curran and call him, my hands shaking so damn hard I can barely keep from dropping the phone. I wrap up my call as Dee and the owner’s son finish loading the car.
Dee locks the doors to her sedan when we slip inside, but doesn’t immediately pull out. “What did Curran say?”
“The pics are too blurry and I didn’t get a plate. He’s stopping by to take a formal report.”
“Stupid pricks,” she mutters. “I’m sorry, I should have taken their picture. But the way they were looking at you, I was more worried about them hitting you. Who were they?”
“Don’t tell Evan,” I say, not bothering to explain.
She frowns. “If you don’t want to ta
lk about it, that’s fine. But you shouldn’t keep things from your man.”
“I’m not, and I won’t. I’ll tell him after work. He just has too much going on right now.”
“All right.”
Like the other employees, Dee knows the company is only barely hanging on. She cranks the engine and pulls onto the main road. We were talking up a storm all the way here, but the ride back is quiet. She’s worried, and maybe scared, too. Me, I’m all rage.
It’s taking all I can not to find Bryant and beat the unholy fuck out of him. But that’s exactly what this manipulative asshole wants. He wants me to go to him. He’s trying to turn the tables on me, and make me out to be the whore he claims I am.
Son of bitch, he probably paid those two derelicts to mess with me. It’s always been about power and control. I made it worse by walking away. How dare I reject him, right? How dare I say enough?
I’m ready to hit something. I’m ready to hit him, but the moment I see Evan’s building come into view, I know I have to get it together.
Dee pulls onto the curb. I barely have time to slide out of the car when a security guard approaches me. “Miss O’Brien, can I see you? We have a situation.”
Jesus. Like I need this. Dee walks toward me, her frown bouncing between me and building. “Go do what you have to do. I’ll get one of the interns to help me. Don’t worry,” she adds when I hesitate. “I’ll take care of everything.”
She seems stressed, not that I’m exactly jumping for joy.
I expect another message from Bryant, instead the guard leads me toward the lobby where a woman waits by the security desk. She’s dressed in what might be a Chanel suit, with enough Botox to smooth out the forehead of every person moving through the lobby.
She smiles when she sees me, at least, I think she does seeing how she can barely move her overly plumped lips. She pushes back her shoulder length blond hair, appearing to dismiss the guards standing behind her.
“That’s Mrs. Hilliard,” the guard mutters.
“Hilliard?” I ask, wondering how I know this name.
“She says she’s Mr. Jonah’s mother and is demanding to see him, claiming it’s urgent,” the guard tells me. “But their names are different and we can’t reach Mr. Jonah. We figured you were the next best person to ask.” He waits, staying out of earshot. “Do you want her out or are you going to speak to her?”
The security team takes their job seriously, and as a whole, they don’t budge. But I can see why they’d hesitate to toss a woman claiming to be the boss’s mother.
“I’ll talk to her,” I say, walking forward.
She seems young, too young to be injecting all that crap into her skin. Her body is bizarrely thin, her rack, not so much, and about as pricey as that diamond bracelet glinting beneath the atrium lights. She doesn’t appear threatening, but there’s enough superiority emanating from her form to taste.
Maybe it’s the stress of working my ass off only to take minimal steps or the shitty experience at the diner. Whatever it is, I’m already on guard and feeling protective.
“You want me to try the boss again?” the guard asks, keeping pace with me.
“Not yet,” I tell him. I stop just in front of Mommy Dearest.
“Miss O’Brien,” the guard closest to him says. “This here is Mrs. Hilliard.”
“Ah,” she says, smiling with as much warmth as the diamond choker around neck. “You must be Evan’s plaything. Not that I’m surprised.”
I’ll give her this, she’s not much of a sweet talker. “What do you want?” I ask, ignoring the jab and knowing it will bother her more.
“I’m here to see my son,” she says, straightening. “Do your job and inform him I’m here.”
I crinkle my nose. “Mmm, no.”
“What?”
She’s slightly taller than me, but she might as well be a cockroach by the way I stare her down. “I said, no.”
“Polite” and “patient” left me the moment those two idiots messed with me, and they aren’t traits that are coming back anytime soon. Her half-frozen expression passes along my body, as if she’s somehow in control.
“You have no idea who you’re dealing with,” she says.
“I know more than you think,” I assure her, my voice and expression steady. “Evan is in a meeting and is not to be disturbed.” Maybe I should call him Mr. Jonah, but she’s already assumed there’s something between us, and I don’t mind reminding her it’s true.
“I’m sure someone as lovely as you can convince him to free his schedule,” she fires back, her tone stiff. “That’s why he keeps you, isn’t it? To convince him in ways others can’t.”
Holy God, I’m ready to kick her in the face.
Two guards take point beside me. “I think you’re under the impression I’m going take your shit,” I say, not bothering to censor my remarks. “But this isn’t your business. It’s Evan’s, and you don’t get to call the shots.”
“What are you doing here?”
I don’t see Evan approach, he’s suddenly there, assuming a protective stance in front of me.
Mrs. Hilliard demonstrates as much warmth toward him, as she did toward me. “I came to see you.”
“If so, you had your wish, and now you may go.” He takes my hand, leading me away, but not before addressing the guards. “This woman is not permitted in the building. Please escort her from the premises.”
A choruses of “Yes, sirs,” ring out as Evan guides me toward the elevator. I jerk my head back, catching her blanched features as one of the guards motions her to the exit.
She’s stunned by Evan’s reaction, but it’s the rage that overtakes her face that keeps me from feeling sorry for her. This isn’t a woman who’s hurt by the way her son treats her. She’s pissed that she didn’t get what she came for.
The people waiting for the elevator step aside as Evan leads me in. I don’t know what they see in his face, but I feel enough tension within his grasp to understand why they don’t follow us.
The moment the elevator shoots upward, Evan slams his fist into the metal wall, denting it. “Fuck.”
I cover my mouth in shock. I’ve never seen him like this. But I recognize the hurt clouding his features, and all the resentment built from years of pain.
He seems close to the edge, but I don’t say anything, trailing behind him when the elevators ding open and we arrive at the floor. We pass the conference room where Dee and the interns have set up breakfast, opening it up to the rest of the floor instead of the CEOs Evan was supposed to meet.
I wince, knowing this isn’t a good sign. I shut and lock the door behind us when we reach his office.
Evan leans forward and presses his hands against the long the marble table. Maybe I should give him space, but I can’t. I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his back. “What’s wrong?” I ask, keeping my voice gentle.
“Too much,” he admits, but for a long while, that’s all he says.
I wait, giving him the time and patience he always gives me.
“I apologize for reacting as I did,” he finally says, his voice quiet yet unbelievably rough. “But seeing her, after Clifton’s news . . . She was the last thing I needed.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I was more worried about you than anything.”
He stiffens further, deep-rooted rage clipping his tone. “Did she insult or threaten you?”
“She didn’t say anything I couldn’t handle,” I assure him. I kiss his back. “What did Clifton tell you?”
I don’t know why it takes him so long to respond until he finally shares just how bad things are. “You know the charity hospitals, the ones I tried to help instead of selling to their competitors, who work solely for profit and don’t give a bloody damn about the people who most need them?”
I try not to groan, but it’s hard. “Yes?”
“Those same competitors bought them out today, and because they’re now in
charge, they’ll be using our competitor’s technology and releasing us from our contract.”
If there was a wall close enough, I’d be taking a swing myself.
“The good faith money they gave us was used months ago,” he reminds me. “We don’t have to return it per the terms of our agreement. But the money we were depending on from this sale is gone.” He sighs. “There’s not enough coming in. Not for everything we need. I’m flying to London next week and connecting personally with the accounts we have pending throughout the U.K. It’s strictly a business trip, and we won’t have much time to ourselves, but I want you with me.”
“All right,” I say. God, he seems so far away even though I’m holding him.
My hands fall away as he turns to face me, it’s only then I realize his knuckles are bleeding. I reach for a few tissues on the table and press them into his hand, almost at the same time I clutch his fist against my chest.
“Don’t,” he says, attempting to pull away. “I’ll ruin your dress.”
“I don’t care about my dress, I care about you,” I whisper. “Evan, we’re in this together. No way am I letting you go.”
The anger and worry deepening the faint lines around his eyes, lessen at my words.
I want to mean what I say. But how can I help him when I can’t even help myself?
CHAPTER 20
Wren
It takes a long time for our breath to settle after we finish, and even longer before we stop kissing. Evan smiles softly as he pulls away, his hand gliding from where it’s on my face to my hip as we roll onto our sides. It’s one of my favorite things he does: touch me like he needs to, like he needs me. That’s a good thing, seeing how I need him, too.
Tonight is slightly different. Instead of the familiar warmth in his stare that follows our lovemaking: a seamless mix of fire and sweetness, the anger lingers.
I told him what happened at the diner. He hired a private investigator to track down Bryant. Curran took his side, so did my brothers, but the resentment that remains isn’t just about me.
