The Man I Thought I Loved (Two-Faced Book 2)

by E. L. Todd

  The Man I Thought I Loved

  Two-Faced #2

  E. L. Todd

  Hartwick Publishing

  Hartwick Publishing

  The Man I Thought I Loved

  Copyright © 2020 by E. L. Todd

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  One

  Dax

  She disappeared from my life.

  I couldn’t text her because she blocked me.

  When I texted Charlie, I got no response either.

  They didn’t show up to the basketball game on Wednesday.

  I didn’t show up at her door again because it seemed pointless.

  So, I let her go…even though it hurt like hell.

  I sat in my office and stared out the window, constantly distracted by the final conversation I’d had with Carson. Her intelligence made her difficult to argue with, and she wove a painful narrative that made even me hate myself.

  I’d thought it was a harmless lie, but now I realized how terrible it truly was.

  I’d do anything to take it back.

  Renee walked inside. “Are you sure you’re alright? Every time I see you, you look worse and worse.”

  “Yeah.” I hadn’t told her what happened because it was too painful to share.

  She took a seat and gave me an incredulous look. “Dax, come on. Did something happen with Carson?”

  I couldn’t hide it any longer. “Carson knows the truth.”

  “She knows?” She tilted her head slightly. “That sounds like you didn’t tell her?”

  I shook my head. “Her colleague was supposed to interview me for that editorial piece…but they sent her instead.”

  “Oh geez.”

  “Yeah…”

  “What now?”

  “I tried to talk to her, but she wanted nothing to do with me. That was a week ago.”

  She crossed her legs and ignored the folder she’d brought to my office to discuss. “I’m sorry, Dax.”

  “Don’t be. It’s all my fault.” I should have told her sooner.

  “And that’s it?”

  “Yeah. She doesn’t want to see me anymore.”

  She looked out the window. “If you really like her, you should do something.”

  “No. She made her stance perfectly clear.”

  “But you’re a good man, Dax. You’re worth giving a second chance.”

  “You don’t know Carson,” I said with a painful chuckle.

  She was quiet for a long time, as if the conversation was over. “What happened to the article?”

  “Kinda just got dropped.”

  “Well, I have an idea.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Ask to do it—and specifically request her.”

  I stared at my sister for a while, finding the suggestion ridiculous. “Force her to spend time with someone she hates?”

  “She doesn’t hate you.”

  “I don’t know about that…”

  “And work on the best friend. Convince him, and you can convince her.”

  “He’s loyal.”

  “But I doubt he thinks you’re a bad guy because you’re not, Dax. Sure, you could have handled it better, but you deserve another chance. Fight for her. She sounds special—and you can’t just let her go. If she doesn’t give you a second chance, you make her give you a second chance. Because you’re a very incredible man. She could have an incredible man if she’s forced to see it.”

  Since Matt and Jeremy were still seeing each other, it was easy for me to figure out a time when I could run into Charlie. The three of them went out for a drink after work, and Jeremy passed the information on to me.

  They were sitting at the bar, watching a game on the TV when I walked in.

  Jeremy saw me first. “Hey, man.” I clapped him on the shoulder before I did the same to Matt.

  Charlie glanced over his shoulder to look at me, but he gave no reaction. Stoic and cold, he turned back to the TV and drank from his beer.

  Charlie was the more reasonable one, the calm that canceled out Carson’s fire. Maybe she would never understand why I’d lied, but he might. It was worth the shot. Instead of taking the empty seat beside Jeremy, I took the one beside Charlie.

  He looked straight ahead, his elbows on the bar, his eyes on the TV.

  “I’ll take a scotch,” I said to the waitress.

  She gave me a smile to earn a big tip before she poured the scotch in front of me. “There you are.” She moved away to take care of the other guys who’d come in to watch the game.

  I took a drink.

  Charlie pretended I didn’t exist.

  “How’s it going, man?”

  He grabbed his beer and took a drink.

  “The silent treatment… Cliché.”

  He turned to me, provoked by the statement. “What do you want, Dax?”

  “To know how it’s going. Exactly what I asked.”

  He faced forward again. “Look, we can’t be friends like we used to. I’m sure you’ve figured that out.”

  This was not going well. I took another drink of my scotch. “That’s too bad.”

  He watched the game like nothing happened.

  Charlie didn’t have the rage Carson did. He was her best friend, but he wasn’t an overprotective brother figure threatening to kick my ass outside the bar. He simply wasn’t an aggressive person. That was probably why he was a journalist—because he didn’t get emotional. “I’ve had a really shitty week.”

  He didn’t turn my way, but his body tightened noticeably.

  “I really fucked up with Carson. And I wish I could take it back.”

  He looked down into his beer. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because you’re the brain, and she’s the heart.”

  He turned back to me, his eyes curious at my words.

  “You know, you’re more logical and pragmatic. She’s emotional, passionate, spontaneous. Those aren’t bad attributes. I mean, it’s what attracted me to her in the first place. But right now, it’s working against me.”

  “If you think you’re going to get her back…it’s not going to happen.”

  It felt like he’d pressed his shoe right against my chest and cracked it. “I’d still like us to be friends.”

  He stared into my eyes, his dirty-blond hair combed back.

  “Charlie, I never meant to hurt her. I know I should have told her the truth, but honestly, I haven’t met a woman I’ve actually cared about since my ex-wife. I wasn’t expecting to feel that way for a long time, so stumbling across Carson was unexpected.”

  “If you’d told her sooner, if she’d heard it from you, none of this would have happened.”

  “I know. I shouldn’t have dragged my feet.”

  “You should have told her the moment you knew she wouldn’t care less about your money.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I should have. But we were already in pretty deep at that point.”

  “Or when you asked her to be exclusive, you should have told her then.”

  I sighed. “Charlie, we can play this game all night long. We can look back and point out every mistake and what I should have done better. But at the end of the day, I was just trying to find something real, and that’s impossible when women know I’m a billionaire. I never know if they want me for me or my wallet—and it’s usually my wallet.”

  He nodded slightly, like he understood. “Dax, I totally get it. I don’t thin
k you’re a bad guy.”

  No one understood that kind of wealth until they had it. From their point of view, being rich was only a good thing, would only bring about positive outcomes. But they had no idea how much it changed the perception of everyone around them. They said it was lonely at the top, which was true. Sometimes people were so envious that they hated you. Sometimes they were so greedy that they obsessed over you. Sometimes they were insecure and wanted nothing to do with you. Sometimes people kissed your ass, when they normally wouldn’t give you the time of day. No single relationship was real…except what I had with my sister and a few friends. “I wasn’t sneaking around behind her back. I wasn’t married. The lie was harmless…for the most part.”

  “Yeah, I get it. For anyone else, it wouldn’t be a problem. But after everything Carson has been through, it’s just too much. Her ex really fucked her up. It wasn’t just what he did, but the fact that he lied to her face every day and she believed him. She was humiliated.”

  “I know that feeling just as well as she does.”

  “But you had your shield up and asked her to take hers down.”

  I sighed in disappointment.

  “I’m sorry, man. I understand your point of view. But I also understand hers. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

  “I still want her, Charlie.”

  He dropped his gaze.

  “I finally found a good woman, and I don’t want to let her go. I want another chance.”

  He shook his head. “Not gonna happen.”

  “Maybe it could happen if you talked to her.”

  He cringed then rubbed the back of his neck. “Man, you did not just go there.”

  “Come on, Charlie. You know I’m a good guy. Yes, I lied about who I was, but everything else about me is totally real.”

  He stared down into his beer.

  “Who wouldn’t want their best friend to date a billionaire?”

  He gave a slight chuckle. “She couldn’t care less about your money, man. If anything, it’s a turn-off.”

  Fuck, why did I mess this up? “If you can honestly tell me there’s a better guy for her, that there’s somebody who would treat her better than I would, I’ll let this go. But there’s a ton of scumbags out there, and I’m not one of them. I get along with all of you perfectly. I’m not some stuck-up suit. I’m impressed by her success rather than intimidated by it. She’s a lot of woman, and she needs a lot of man. I’m definitely man enough.”

  He continued to stare at his beer before he lifted his gaze and looked at me.

  “You know it’s true, man.”

  He sighed deeply.

  I stared at him, hoping for the answer that would give me a chance.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  That was the most I was going to get, so I chose to appreciate it. “Thanks.”

  He nodded and turned back to the TV.

  “Regardless of the outcome, I’d like it if we could be friends. Jeremy is with Matt, and Nathan is with Kat. It’s not like you’re never going to see me again. Plus, you aren’t the type of guy to hold a grudge.”

  “Yeah, I guess it’s fine.”

  “And Carson doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who would tell you to stop talking to me either.”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “How is she, by the way?” She’d blocked my number, so I couldn’t contact her. I didn’t want to show up at her office or her apartment unannounced because that just seemed to piss her off. When she’d screamed at me, she didn’t seem heartbroken, just furious, but she was also the type of woman that would never show weakness, that would never let me see her scars.

  “She’s fine.” Charlie watched the TV.

  I couldn’t read between the words, couldn’t see the truth in his vagueness. I just hoped she really was fine…but I suspected she wasn’t.

  Two

  Carson

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I stood in front of Vince’s desk, appalled by what I’d heard.

  “His assistant asked for you—specifically.”

  That rat bastard. “He asked for Vivica last time. Send her.”

  “Carson, is this going to be a problem?” He had nothing but respect for me, but now he cocked his head and eyed me with an eyebrow raised, his eyes enlarged through his glasses.

  I never said no. That was how I got ahead here. No one else wanted the story in Iraq, but I took it. So, saying no to an interview with a billionaire seemed odd, and I definitely wouldn’t air my dirty laundry and let my personal life affect my work. But that motherfucker purposely asked for me so I would have to see him. “No.”

  “Then take care of it. The meeting is in a few hours.”

  “Got it.” The second I turned around, I let my anger overcome my features. I shut the door behind me and walked past Charlie’s cubicle on the way to mine.

  He looked up and turned his head to follow me with his eyes, his eyebrows high in alarm.

  I got to my desk and collapsed into the chair, my hands digging in my hair as I let out a quiet growl.

  “Did you just get fired or something?” Charlie leaned against the desk and lowered his voice.

  “No. Worse.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Did he put you on the Home and Lifestyle section?”

  “Okay, not that bad.” I dropped my hands into my lap. “I guess Dax has requested me specifically to do his editorial.”

  Charlie didn’t react right away. “So he can get in a room with you.”

  “Yep. You know, I respected him for accepting my rejection and disappearing. But it looks like I was wrong.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you going to do?”

  “My job.”

  “It’s been a week since he was at the apartment. Have you cooled down at all?”

  I didn’t allow myself to think about him, not because it made me angry, but because it hurt. “No.”

  He stared at me. “I know what he did was wrong, but he’s not a bad guy.”

  “You’re kidding with this, right?” I snapped.

  “I’m just saying he’s not an adulterer or something. He was burned really badly by his gold-digging ex-wife, and he just wanted to find someone who wanted him, not his money. He had good intentions.”

  “So, you think it’s okay that he lied?” I snapped.

  “Not at all. I’m just saying, have some perspective on this. We know bad people. We know what bad people are capable of. Dax does not fall into that category. If you don’t want to get back together with him, that’s fine. But maybe tone down the hostility a bit. Don’t march in there throwing daggers.”

  I knew he was right. My anger came from the pain, which I was entitled to, but Dax wasn’t evil. “Fine.”

  He got off the desk and straightened. “Good luck.”

  “Can you put on a wig and do it for me?”

  He grinned before he turned away. “I think my dick would throw him off.”

  “Would you whip it out during the interview?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “No. But if he thought I was you, he might try to take off my pants.”

  I checked in at the front desk like last time, then took a seat.

  My heart wasn’t racing like last time because I knew exactly what to expect. I’d walk in there and see Dax in his $10,000 suit and his $20,000 watch with his big-ass desk that he’d probably fucked an assistant on.

  I was livid he’d summoned me here for this interview. It was below the belt, completely unfair. But I was a professional, and I would do my job.

  “He’s ready for you.” The petite blonde walked to the double doors and opened one for me.

  “Thanks.” I stepped inside and saw him sitting on one of the couches, a tray that held a pitcher of water and two glasses on the table, along with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He leaned back and was relaxed, one ankle resting on the opposite knee. But he’d ditched the suit and wore jeans and a t-shirt, just the way he’d dresse
d whenever I’d seen him.

  His eyes shifted to my face, his expression impassive. He studied me, as if he were waiting for me to scream at him, to let me get it all out before he said anything. One arm was on the armrest, while the other beside him. His shirt flattened against his frame, showing how tight his stomach was, how strong his chest was. Stubble was on his jaw, thicker than usual, like he’d skipped the shave for days. His brown eyes were empty and unreadable.

  I approached the other couch and took a seat, holding my notebook and recorder. I was in a pencil skirt and a tight blouse with pumps. The clothing was professional, but I preferred jeans and a top. I turned on the recorder and set it on the table before I clicked my pen and held the tip to the notebook where my notes were.

  His eyes never left my face.

  I lifted my chin and looked at him, ignored his handsome stare, the same intense gaze he gave me the night we met, and just pushed through it. “You stepped up to the position when your father passed away. How was—”

  “Are we really going to do this?” His deep voice shattered my confidence because it was so powerful. When he was in his element, he was authoritative and superior, producing all the energy in the room like he was the sun.

  I kept my cool. “You asked me to come here and interview you. I’m doing my job.” I held his gaze and remained aloof, even though my heart started to race. I wanted to fidget with my pen, but I forced myself to be still, to hold my ground against this man who had quickly turned the tables.

  “Then ask better questions.” He bent his arm and rested his fingers slightly against his jaw, absentmindedly touching the coarse hair that used to rub against the inside of my thighs when he kissed me in my most intimate place.

  “If you have better questions, maybe you should just type up your answers and email them to my office. You know, save us both some time.”

  His expression didn’t change, but his eyes developed a tint of anger. “I grew up wealthy. My grandfather founded this company, gave it to my father, and upon his death, it was given to me. Most people would say I should be grateful for what I have, and while I am, I grew up with a target on my back. A lot of eyes were on me, eyes that I couldn’t see.” He brushed his fingers against the coarse hair of his face, his eyes on me and hardly blinking. “One of those eyes belonged to Rose—my ex-wife. I’d been doing the playboy lifestyle for a long time, spending money I didn’t earn, impressing people who didn’t matter. Rose had one thing on her mind when she met me, and I was too naïve to see it, too arrogant. She used me, took half my money in the divorce, and now she owns half of my part of this company, my family’s legacy—because of my stupidity.”