by May Sage
“Picture it: dark wooden stuff, maybe mahogany. Brown sofas, with just a nice hint of red. Throw a half decent interior decorator in there and this place is going to be timeless, elegant, and perfect for chilling out or entertaining la-di-das. Plus, it’s the whole town house, not just an apartment. I love it. Hell, even Mother Dearest would approve.”
Bryant grimaced. “Not sure I want a place your mother would approve of.”
“Maybe, but how many homes do you think my mother and I would agree on?”
Bryant took the folder, flipped through it, purposefully staying expressionless until she pressed, “Weellll?”
He chuckled. “It looks pretty good. Carter, what do you think?”
“Can’t go wrong with Fifth Avenue. It’s going to be an arm and a leg, though. With…” he checked, “five bedrooms, an office, a billiard room, a library, and a gym, you’re looking at anywhere between fifteen and a hundred mil.”
Tori choked on the wine she was sipping. “Excuse me, did you just say fifteen to a hundred million dollars?”
Carter smirked, all the while checking his buzzing phone. “You pay for the view. It’s worth looking at, depending on the asking price. I’ll get someone to look at the history of the building for you, though.” He got up, and took his jacket from the back of his chair, pulling his wallet, and dropping a few twenties on the table. “I have to dash. My lady needs ingredients to make cupcakes.”
And, on that note, he practically ran out the door, leaving them alone in a restaurant.
15
The Brother
The awkwardness lasted all of two seconds, right after Carter left. Then, Bryant pulled his chair closer to Tori, and pointed to the folder she was looking at.
“How about that one? I think I found it a little too showy.”
She nodded her agreement. “Totally. I mean, you can always get rid of the chandeliers, but big circular windows on top and the grand staircase… that’s just too much.”
He took his white Montblanc pen out of the inner pocket of his jacket, and drew a little cross at the top of the folder.
While they worked through his pile of possibilities, Bryant started picturing her in the homes, and scratched out the ones that didn’t seem to fit that vision.
Fucked. He was utterly fucked. He was man enough to admit it.
“Ten noes, three maybes. That’s not too bad for an evening’s work,” she approved. “Although it might help to actually know how much they’re supposed to cost. Why are they all marked ‘price on request’?”
“So we don’t run away screaming?” he joked, although the price range Carter had given him didn’t even make him raise a brow. He’d expected it, having checked the real estate in Manhattan.
It wasn’t all that different from the prices in London.
Bryant had never been as frivolous as most guys in his position, staying careful with his money, because he recalled the time when he hadn’t taken his next meal for granted. His biggest splurge was the membership of The Tower. But the one thing he wasn’t going to be cheap with was his house. The very first house in his actual name. And, sure, there was a chance that he would only make use of it for five years, but he still wanted it to be a place he could be proud of, a place where he could relax – his home.
Tori snorted, commenting, “Yeah, like a Croft would be scared of a mere dozen zeroes.”
He had to laugh at that one. “I’m a Parker, luv, remember?”
“A Parker who used to be called Croft.”
He could have let her carry on believing what she wanted about him, but although he never spoke of it, he found himself correcting her assumption.
“Oh, I’ve always had that name.” His mother had named him Bryant Croft from day one. “I just didn’t use to have the dozen zeroes in my bank account associated with it.”
She frowned, understandably. She’d probably known that his family had been rich for generations, and James never shared Bryant’s story, with good reason. It painted their father as the cold, disgusting pig he was. The press would have just loved to hear about it, and no one wanted their dirty laundry aired that way – particularly when a scandal could affect their company.
“I’d say I’m surprised you haven’t heard about that mess, but that would be a lie. We’re in Croft secret territory, luv. You’re sure you wanna hear it?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “You have to tell me now. Who doesn’t love a good secret?”
Bryant didn’t even bother to ask her to keep it to herself; something told him she would.
“Okay, so, I’m told James Croft, Senior, was a decent bloke way back when, when James’ mother was still alive. She died - car accident - and he never recovered. Started acting out, left his company to be run by his employees, and travelled the world, drinking and fucking his way through his grief.”
Tori was listening; not just hearing him, but hanging on to his every word with a little frown, taking it in.
“He met a stripper in Vegas, paid her a few hundred, and nine months later, she gave birth to yours truly. I don’t even know how she was so certain I was his, or how she got in touch with him – but he got a paternity test done, and once he knew for sure I was his kid, he signed his rights away for a hundred thousand.”
“Fucking asshole,” Tori bit out, fuming on his behalf.
Chuckling, Bryant said, “You haven’t heard the half of it, luv. We could have had a decent life, a hundred grand could set anyone on a merry way, but mom wasn’t all that responsible. She overdosed when I was eight. I had grandparents, but they were both struggling, financially and health-wise. So, my gran decided to reach out to the sperm donor. She saved up for months, then bundled us all up and flew us to London. I can’t tell you what it was like, seeing the city for the first time. It was the first time I went anywhere.”
He’d felt like there couldn’t be a more beautiful city in the world and, over two decades later, he still thought the same.
“So, your dad took you in?”
Sweet, naive woman.
“He shouted at the housekeeper for letting us in, and called me a bastard, which was rather accurate.” Tori gasped. “Said something about not soiling his ancestral home with my kind. They were talking behind closed doors, but, as he was still yelling, I heard it all.”
“What a fucking prick! How could he? You’re his son!”
Bryant shrugged cluelessly.
“Anyway, a few days later, he changed his mind. Came to pick me up from my grandparents’.”
Tori looked like she didn’t understand, and he couldn’t blame her. He hadn’t understood it, either. It took years for him to learn what had really happened during that handful of days.
“How…”
“Well, bear in mind that I only heard the details when I turned twenty, alright? While James, Senior, was shouting at pops and gran, I was meeting up with a cool kid with a red scarf. He was in his twenties, all hip, but he dressed like an older man.”
She beamed, recognizing the description. “James.”
Bryant smiled. “You got it. I don’t know why, but we clicked right away, you know? He was home from college. Must have heard the whole thing, too; I can’t say I remembered a lot after I heard my own father insult me. Gran got me out of there as soon as possible, and she made my stay in London awesome after that. Then we went home.”
He stopped talking for a while, drinking his wine and wishing it was something stronger.
“I knew something had happened. I knew it. But I would never have asked James, Senior – I didn’t speak to him if I could help it – and Junior never told me. As I said, he came to pick me up days later, and enrolled me in a boarding school. I was sent to my grandparents’ during the holidays, or I stayed at home with the servants. Senior was never there. He couldn’t stand me, I could tell every time he looked at me with utter disgust. I saw enough shrinks to know it wasn’t about me. He felt like he’d betrayed his dead wife, so he was never going to give
a shit about me…”
He’d been tiptoeing around the subject long enough, so he just dropped the bomb. “The housekeeper spilled the beans right before she retired. James made it happen. He swore to our father he’d just demolish the house, and give all of his money away to charity as soon as he inherited it, if Senior didn’t take care of me. He told him he wouldn’t be his heir; it was me, or no one. He also said he’d be on the first flight to come get me. He’d said he’d tell the world I was his brother, and raise me himself if he had to. James had gotten some money from his grandfather a while back. Not a lot, but enough for a year of college and a little nestegg. He took it, and packed up for Columbia. That’s where he met your dad; a year later, with what was left of his cash, and what William invested, he founded Croft Advertising.”
Tori was just speechless. Finally, she managed to whisper, “Holy fuck.”
“I still haven’t talked to James about it. I owe him. All I am today is because he decided to take pity on a little punk. He truly struggled for years, although he was born with a silver spoon in his hand, because of me. I came to town because I wanted him to take our father’s estate. I’ve inherited it all, as per their agreement. He doesn’t want it - wouldn’t even take half. But he’s asked me to be CEO of his company; that way, he can retire. So here I am.”
He owed the man everything, and all he’d asked for was for Bryant to take a cushy job with a ridiculously high salary.
“Here we are,” she echoed.
His story had put a damper on the mood, to say the least. Eventually, Tori managed to crack a smile, and hit the bottom of her glass against his. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.” He lifted a brow, smirking, and she amended her statement. “Possibly. Maybe.”
“Yeah, right,” he wanted to say. “You like me, Victoria Brown. That’s why you’re coming Saturday. You know I want you, and you may just want me back. You’re just wondering whether you can take all of me.”
She was right to be cautious. He wasn’t like Carter. He hadn’t started to hit a BDSM club after college and stopped a couple of years later. Bryant had been struggling with everything he’d learned about himself, about James, when his brother took him to The Tower for his twenty-first birthday. It had been over a decade, and he always went back.
Taking care of a Sub brought him a peace nothing else achieved. The longest stretch of time he’d spent away from BDSM was the two years he’d dated Naomi, and there was a very good chance that had been part of the reason their relationship had gone sour. Although the fact that she was a manipulative shrew probably hadn’t helped.
Tori…
He could see it. He could see a future with her. Only, if he was honest with himself, he wanted part of that future to be intense, passionate. He wanted to give her his whole self. That meant the Dom as well as the charming Bryant Parker everyone got to meet.
All the cards were in her delicate hands, and she didn’t even know it.
“I’m also rather glad to be here, luv.”
16
Peace
Six weeks ago, they’d practically fucked in an identical cab, but she didn’t think there had been nearly as much sexual tension as there was now. They sat properly, each of them on their respective seats, and they didn’t even touch. Seeing his hand lying right there, though, she was itching to extend hers, and touch his fingers.
“This’s me,” she said when the cab arrived in front of her building.
Bryant looked past her, towards her home, and frowned. It wasn’t anywhere close to the sort of house they’d been looking at.
“I’ve been here since college. It’s not too bad inside.”
“It doesn’t look very safe,” he said, and she knew better than to tell him that there had been a bunch of break-ins just down the road.
Tori shrugged. “It could be worse. It’s rent controlled, so I’m not giving it up before I buy somewhere.”
She opened the door, and the cool evening air burst into the car, surprising her. It hadn’t been that cold a few minutes ago.
“Well, tonight was…” she searched for her word. Enlightening? Frustrating? Both would have worked. “Nice?”
He chuckled. “See you in the morning, Tori.”
The rest of the week passed at a snail’s pace, and, at the same time, there weren’t enough hours in the day. Her workload was ungodly, making her wish she was back in a cubicle, not having to worry about any account except for the ones assigned to her.
One of her associates, Langdon, came to her with his well-researched, elegant presentation.
“I need help,” he confessed, although he visibly had a hard time getting the words to come out of his throat.
He’d never been one to gossip and, to his credit, she didn’t think she’d ever seen him send her any hostile looks, but, while he hadn’t joined the crowd in their “we hate Victoria” campaign, he wasn’t friendly, either. Two, maybe three years older than her, Langdon had been hired at the same time as her; he kept to his hours, did his thing and went out the door, a little like Lexi.
Tori envied that. The ability to disconnect and have your life on top of work. She wished she didn’t feel like she had to stay there after hours most days, but the need to prove herself was written in her DNA. Not only did she have to prove to her colleagues they were wrong about her, she also had to do it to tell herself her mother was wrong; she could amount to more than her vagina.
She’d believed that she’d feel a little less stressed after her promotion, but no such luck.
“What’s the matter?”
Tori knew Langdon was the only one on her team to have finished his three main accounts so far; he was on to his extra ones, and what she’d seen so far suggested he’d at least score one.
“You gave me Woodrow Entertainment,” he handed her a file she opened up. “I discovered last night that they produce the videos for my daughter’s favorite band. I won’t ever win dad of the year, so I need to get this. She said it would be, and I quote, ‘so cool’ if I worked with them.”
Tori blinked, surprised; she had no idea the guy had a daughter. He spoke of her with so much fondness she had to doubt what he’d said, though: he probably made a decent contender for dad of the year.
“Sure. Let’s take a look.”
His presentation was just fine, but she did tweak the slides he’d made, changing the color scheme and rewording a few things.
They got to the mock-up of their campaign, and Tori sighed. She was going to have to spill her secret.
“Okay, so this doesn’t get out of this room, alright?”
Langdon considered it, before slowly nodding, careful, as if he expected her to confess to a coldblooded murder.
“These mock-ups the design department sends us are good - very good. They also review them every other month to make sure we stay on top of the trend. But it’s never their best work.”
On that note, she wrote a quick line to Emma down in design through their internal messaging system, and waited for a response.
Once she got it, she turned her monitor and let Langdon see it.
Hey, can you sex up the Woodrow slider? I’ll owe you an ice chai latte.
On it. Make it a Venti, with whipped cream on top.
Langdon chuckled. “So, that’s how you get ahead? Bribing designers?”
“Guilty as charged. You should see what she did for me for H.T. - a whole manga with characters using the toys we promoted. That cost me a week of Starbucks, but it was worth every penny.”
He got up, extending his hand. “Well, your friend’s coffee is on me this time, and I also owe you one.”
“Carmel pecan latte.”
He rolled his eyes. “What’s wrong with a damn espresso?”
Tori considered that for all of one second, all the while wincing. “Everything. Who actually wants to taste coffee?”
She unhooked her coat from its hanger, and moved to leave her office at the same time as him; after spending a
n hour with Langdon, it was now time to head to her own presentation.
They opened her door to find Bryant standing there, and Tori felt her cheeks reddening.
She couldn’t help it after the previous evening. He’d opened up, letting her see the man behind the wolf, making her understand what hid behind the smiles, and she hadn’t been able to get it out of her mind. Not last night, when she’d tossed and turned, unable to sleep, seeing his hazel eyes and his delightful, skilled mouth. Now he was standing right in front of her, and her muscles tensed, aware of him at every level.
His eyes went from her to Langdon.
“Hey,” she said awkwardly, as the two men stared at each other.
Langdon smiled. “Thanks for the advice, boss,” he told her, before getting out of there.
“Did you just have a pissing contest with one of the guys on my team?” she asked for clarification.
“I did,” Bryant replied, utterly shameless. “I won it, too. You’re going out?”
She acquiesced.
“Yep, I’m presenting to Harper Tech at eleven.”
That was her favorite part of the job; she loved researching the projects their clients wanted to advertise, seeing what their competition offered, making sure to show off why their products were better - but speaking with the clients, showing them her work, was the fun part. Anyone could do the leg work; presenting it was another matter altogether.
“Good. Let me grab my coat.”
Tori grimaced.
Okay, so, she rocked at that part of the job; it didn’t mean that she wanted Bryant to see her doing it.
“You’re going to ignore whatever protest I come up with and accompany me, regardless,” she guessed.
“You’re rather astute aren’t you, luv?”
17
In Action
