I saw Thorn across the room talking to Autumn Alexander, one of the brightest minds of our young generation. Her developments in solar and renewable energy were beyond impressive. But judging by the way Thorn was standing so close to her, I suspected they weren’t talking about business.

I kept business and pleasure separate. The kind of women I went for had nothing to do with this world. They were usually models. In fact, they were all models. They were primarily foreign too, holding citizenship from France or Italy.

I guess I had a type.

My last relationship ended unexpectedly. After my conversation with Titan, I reevaluated my life. Even with a woman by my side and in between my sheets, my existence was utterly empty. Despite the company, I was still lonely.

My conversations were meaningless and drab. Most of the time they talked and I just listened. That wasn’t their fault.

I just didn’t say much.

I took the strong and silent type to a whole new level.

Women liked me because I was rich, sophisticated, had great taste in wine and art—and I had a few yachts.

Women loved yachts.

And I was still handsome.

I started good habits when I was young, eating right and exercising regularly. That benefited me in the long term.

I was young when I had Diesel. I was twenty-one at the time. My wife was the same age. Now I was fifty-six, but I felt much younger than my age indicated. My lean and toned body shaved off ten years to my appearance. If it weren’t well known that Diesel was my son, people would mistake him for my brother.

Titan was right—I was still young.

I had a long life ahead of me. Even I lived to be eighty, that still gave me another twenty-five years.

How should I spend it?

The idea of falling in love again didn’t sound appealing to me. How could I ever love someone again after the way I loved my wife? She was perfect for me, my better half. I always wondered what she would look like now—if she’d survived. I imagined us cruising the Mediterranean together, still happy and in love.

But she was gone.

I was happy I had my son back, but I was still miserable. I had all the money in the world, but that didn’t mean anything to me.

I had no one to share it with.

Isabella would want me to move on. She would have expected me to move on a few years after she passed away. Within the blink of an eye, more than ten years had passed. I hadn’t fallen in love with anyone, but I had purposely prevented that from happening.

I only chose women I was attracted to—not ones I cared about.

Maybe it was time for me to move forward.

Or maybe I could never move forward.

I really didn’t know.

I mingled with more associates and plastered a fake smile on my face. A young woman touched me on the arm too many times, obviously fishing for my affection. But I wasn’t interested.

I didn’t say goodnight to Thorn before I left because he seemed absorbed in his conversation with Autumn. I suspected their conversation would continue—probably at his penthouse.

So I went home—alone.

---

Cheyenne had been working for me since the beginning. She was a few years older than me, and she loved being my executive assistant so much that she never left. I paid her handsomely because my world would fall apart if she ever left. From the way I took my coffee to my most complicated schedules, she had it all figured out.

And Isabella had always liked her.

I guessed Cheyenne reminded me of simpler times, when Isabella would come visit me at the office with Brett and Diesel holding each of her hands. Her visits always distracted me and I ended up staying an extra hour to catch up, but I couldn’t refuse seeing my wife in the middle of the day.

I never got tired of her.

Cheyenne walked into my office and set a mug of coffee on the table—black. “I have the editor in chief of Platform on line one. Scarlet Blackwood. She wants to know if you’d be interested in doing a special fashion line for her men’s formal wear. She’d also like an interview.”

Platform was on every newsstand I passed in Manhattan. It was the biggest fashion magazine in the country, and the only reason why I knew that was because some of my girlfriends had been on the covers. I didn’t care about fashion and I had a designer pick out my clothes for me, but publicity was always important. The more celebrity I had, the better my businesses performed. Also, I was working on repairing my image in the media. It took a dive once Diesel spread our story across every front page in the country.

Cheyenne stared at me with a folder tucked under her arm. She wore a cream jacket with matching slacks. She’d just had her first grandchild a few months ago. “You want to take it, or should I get rid of her?”

I suspected I would have my first grandchild soon, now that Diesel was marrying Tatum. I wished Isabella could be alive for that moment. “I’ll take it. When’s my next meeting?”

“Two hours.”

Then I had time. “Put her through.”

Cheyenne pressed the phone to her ear. “Please hold for Mr. Ammo.” She handed the phone over.

I took it and watched her walk out of my office. “Mrs. Blackwood, how are you?” I didn’t know anything about this woman, but her reputation preceded her. Anyone who ran a fashion magazine of that caliber must be phenomenal at her job.

“It’s Ms. Blackwood,” she said curtly. “And I’m very well now that I have your attention.”

I didn’t know why, but something about her tone made me smile.

“I’d really love to do a spread about you, Mr. Ammo. I have a few suits that would look magnificent on you. You have a strong following, and you’re the leading example of a powerful businessman. Men and women are both fascinated by you.”

“I don’t know about that, but you flatter me anyway.” I smoothed my tie down the front of my chest, feeling the silk against my callused fingertips.

“Can we meet to discuss it further? I’d love to share my ideas with you.”

I wasn’t big on talking, but I could pose for a few pictures. I’d been photographed a lot in my life. I’d done a few endorsements for Connor Suede, and that always increased my visibility. I’d been associated with a lot of different brands, from luxury cars, jets, and fashion. “I’m interested. But I do have to make something clear.”

“Yes?” She had a deep voice that was naturally smoky and sultry. In my mind, I imagined her to be a woman with dark hair. To be the editor in chief of such a respected magazine, she must have years of experience under her belt, but her voice didn’t show her age. She sounded the same age as Tatum.

“I’m willing to do an interview, but there are some subjects I won’t discuss.” My private life was exactly what it was—private. I wasn’t interested in discussing the death of my late wife, and I wasn’t interested in defending myself against Diesel’s previous claims. Business was the only safe subject.

“I understand, Mr. Ammo. Nothing gets printed without your consent.”

Some publications weren’t so respectful. They would trick you into saying something you regretted just to get more readers. I’d learned to avoid those kinds of tabloids a long time ago, but my guard was always up anyway. “I appreciate that.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Ammo. We’ll talk soon.”

Most of my conversations didn’t flow well because I wanted to end them as quickly as possible. But for a stranger, she was surprisingly easy to speak to. She got right to the point and didn’t interject pointless blabber. “Goodbye, Ms. Blackwood.”

---

Scarlet Blackwood wasn’t what I expected.

She walked into the restaurant shortly after noon, wearing a taupe skirt that flared around her hips with a white blouse that hugged her slender waistline. Nude heels were on her feet, and a black blazer with large buttons covered her shoulders. She was decorated with accessories, a gold watch, a diamond necklace, and bangle bracelets. She strutted into the restaurant like it was a runway, her clutch tucked under her arm.

She was definitely part of the fashion world.

Her dark hair was exactly as I pictured it, deep like midnight and shiny. It was pinned away from her face, but the strands were loose enough that the look softened her features. With high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, and a slender neck, she possessed all the beauty of the models that hit the runway. But she had something they didn’t.

Experience.

It was difficult to discern her age, but she wasn’t in her twenties. She must be her in her late thirties or early forties. There were faint lines in the corners of her eyes and mouth, but her obvious beauty wasn’t diminished by her age. A lot of women in the industry resorted to plastic surgery because they needed to retain their looks as long as possible, but Scarlet Blackwood hadn’t. She had aged gracefully on her own, obviously taking care of her skin and physique in natural ways.

I noticed all of those things in a matter of thirty seconds. She approached my table with a soft smile on her lips, confidence but also genuineness in her look.

I rose to my feet and extended my hand. “Nice to see you, Ms. Blackwood.”

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Ammo.” She squeezed my hand with the same strength before she dropped it. “I appreciate your time. I understand you have a lot going on in your life right now.”

I pulled out her chair for her before I moved to the other side of the table.

She paused for just an instant, seemingly caught off guard by my politeness. Then she sat down and placed her clutch in her lap. Self-assured, she possessed a professional charm that was innately comfortable. “I hope Ms. Titan is having a successful recovery. It’s an absolute travesty what happened to her. I’m glad she shot that horrible man, but I also wish he was rotting in jail for the rest of his life.” The sincerity in her voice was unmistakable. It didn’t seem like she was just trying to find something to talk about. She was invested in the story, probably because it was on every news station nearly all of the time. People had pestered me for an interview, but I always declined.

“She’s doing very well. She just left the hospital recently, and the rest of her recovery is taking place at home. She’s up and about, and the pain is manageable. But she’s not in good enough shape to head back to work.”

“Of course not. But I’m glad to hear she’s back on her feet. I met her once a few years ago. Very nice woman.”

“She’s incredible.” The pride that I felt for my own sons had extended to Tatum. I’d seen her as a daughter long before she agreed to marry my son. There was something about her that resonated with me. Isabella had always wanted a daughter, but it had never happened for us. Perhaps that was why I felt such a connection with Tatum. She also reminded me of Isabella in a lot of ways. If I had a daughter, I imagined she’d be a lot like Tatum.

“You’re fond of her?” She tilted her head slightly, a smile on her lips.

“My son couldn’t have picked anyone better.” I meant that from the bottom of my heart.

Her eyes roamed over my face before her smile faded away. There was still a spark in her eyes, a light that naturally glowed even if the sun was gone. “Diesel is wonderful too. I did a spread with him a few years back. Easy to work with and always respectful.”

“That’s how he was raised.” I’d raised all of my sons to be powerful men, but Isabella had given them everything else they needed, like compassion, respect, and gentleness.

“It sounds like a perfect arrangement. But it’s terrible their happiness has been put on hold because of this tragedy.”

“It is. But that won’t stop them for long.” I’d known of Diesel’s love for Tatum long before he ever spoke it. Anytime they were in the same room together, his eyes were constantly on her. I could feel his adoration even in a crowded room filled with hundreds of people. It was intense, powerful, and unyielding.

“I’m sure it won’t.”

The waiter arrived and took our drink orders as well as our entrée selections. He disappeared a moment later, leaving us to nothing but our conversation. I dealt with people one-on-one like this all of the time, but something about Scarlet made me feel a little different. I wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, but the obvious comfort was the culprit for my rigidness. “What are your ideas, Scarlet?” The introductions had been made, and she’d broken the ice talking about my family. She hadn’t mentioned my estrangement with Diesel, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t further down on her list.

She sat with perfect posture, holding herself like she could be photographed any moment. She removed her black jacket from her shoulders and placed it over the back of the chair. She had slender arms, rounded shoulders, and a feminine collarbone. “I received a new line of suits from one of my favorite designers, and they’re so magnificent. I wanted to showcase them in a powerful way, and I couldn’t think of a better man to show them off. Platform obviously targets a female audience, but that audience consists of personal shoppers, designers, and wives. When they see a man like you showing them off, it’ll be a big hit. Not to mention, you’re one of the most fascinating bachelors in the world.”

I didn’t consider myself to be a bachelor, not when I wasn’t interested in marriage.

She pulled her phone out of her clutch, and her fingers started tapping against the screen. “I would have brought one here today, but I didn’t think it was the best location with all the food hanging around…” She turned the phone around and showed me the screen. “The fabric is unlike anything on the market. It’s so strong but so light. You’ll never have to worry about breaking a sweat when you walk to work on a summer day.”

I never walked to work.

“The simple design is one of its strongest details. It allows the owner of the suit to put out the statement, the vibe. When placed on a man with your musculature, this fabric will mold to your body, almost like a t-shirt. I really hope they design some dresses or skirts soon, because I’d love to have something I could enjoy myself.”

I took the phone and examined the image more closely. I zoomed in so I could see the dark fabric and the quality of the buttons. The lighting from the back of the phone changed the appearance of the suit slightly, but once I saw it in person, I would have a better view. But honestly, I didn’t care much about clothes or fashion. I wore the nicest attire on the market, whether I personally liked it or not. I didn’t care about the clothes, just the statement they created. A soldier always carried his best weapon when he went into battle. When I stepped into a meeting, my suit was my strongest weapon. It protected me like armor, and it projected a web of defense.

She took the phone back and returned it to her clutch. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice.” I didn’t have the interest to say much more than that. Scarlet Blackwood could go into endless detail about just the fabric alone, but I didn’t share her same passion. On top of that, I was a man of very few words. I’d always been that way. Isabella used to tease me for it, but she never asked me to change. She adopted my form of communication, which was a wordless conversation.

Scarlet didn’t seem disappointed by my short response. “I thought we could get a few shots in the ideal location, perhaps along the French Riviera or Verona, Italy. Something exotic, if you have the availability, of course.”

I’d assumed we would do this in a studio. “I don’t mind making the trip, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving my son behind when he’s going through this difficult time.”

She pressed her lips together tightly and closed her eyes for just an instant. “Of course…I completely understand. That was an insensitive thing for me to ask.”

“It’s fine.” Diesel and Tatum probably didn’t need me, but I wanted to be there if something came up, even if it was just picking up groceries. I hadn’t been there for my son for the last ten years, and now I was committed to being by his side every single day for the rest of my life.

“We can do something local. There are lots of beautiful places right in our backyard.”

“That would be preferable.”

“Great. I’ll set everything up with your assistant.”

I gave a nod, my eyes set on her face. Her skin was darker than mine, with a natural tan that gave her a beautiful complexion. She had dark eyes as well, similar to my own. She had an innately exotic look to her, like she could be from Milan or Southern Italy. She didn’t possess a trace of an accent, so it didn’t seem like she’d relocated here. But her unique appearance caused me to stare—even more than I usually did.

“Now for the part you aren’t looking forward to…” She pulled out the tape recorder and set it on the table. “I promise I’ll make this painless if you trust me.”

No one had ever asked me to trust them. Trust wasn’t something that was given within a few conversations. It was earned over a lifetime, and even then, trust wasn’t guaranteed. Perhaps she and I had different definitions of the word. “I like painless.”

“The objective of the article is to flatter you. I want to paint you as the powerhouse billionaire whose reputation precedes you. But every other paper has written about your financial triumphs a million times…so I want more. I want the man underneath the suit. I want the vulnerability that doesn’t ruin your strength. I think people will find that much more interesting, and they’ll respect you even more.”

I didn’t do vulnerability. I didn’t do emotion. Very few people saw that deeper side of me, and the only people who witnessed it were my family. I wore my heart on my sleeve with Diesel and Tatum because it was necessary. I now told Brett things I should have told him a long time ago. When it came to them, there was no holding back. But the world didn’t deserve the same from me. “No one other outlet has ever written a piece like that because it’s not something I’m interested in. I do my job, make my money, and then go home. I’m not obligated to share every thought, every feeling, with anyone.” I held her gaze despite the cold statement I’d just made. She seemed like a woman with good intentions. She was honest and up front, and I appreciated that. But didn’t mean I would give her what she wanted.

She didn’t show a single reaction, obviously unaffected by my callous response. “Mr. Ammo, you’re the one driving this car. We can go in any direction you choose. I’m just the tour guide. But I think an article like this would be beneficial to you. I understand you don’t want to share every aspect of your life with readers or strangers because it’s none of their business. Your personal life is separate from your business enterprise. But the world always watches every move you make. They’re fascinated by your success, your looks, and your presence. They’re hungry for more of you, regardless. At least now you can give them a piece of yourself—on your own terms. I don’t need to mention the problems with Diesel because it’s already the elephant in the room. You don’t need to defend your side of the story, but you could explain it. This is an opportunity for you for to increase your standing, to show the world that the man underneath the suit is just as powerful as the man who wears it. That’s just my advice…but you can do whatever you want.”

It was the second time she’d pushed me, but she didn’t cross the line and override my power. A lot of things she mentioned were true. People were obsessed with me. They were sharing gossip instead of facts. At least I could set the record straight.

“You can give me a list of topics that are off-limits. I won’t ask you about them.” She pulled a small notepad out of her purse with a pen. “Then we’ll start the interview.” She held the pen to the paper. “So what are they, Mr. Ammo?”

My eyes shifted to her slender hand, seeing the tight skin. Her age didn’t show in her hands, only in subtle places in her face. I turned my gaze back to her, seeing the dark eyes that were filled with gentle power. “My late wife. She’s off-limits.” She was the love of my life, and I didn’t discuss something so personal with anyone. Even my own sons rarely heard me mention her. Losing her was the hardest suffering I’d ever endured. It’d been over a decade, but I’d never gotten over it. My memories of her and our life together were mine. I guarded them greedily, like they were buried treasure.

Scarlet didn’t hesitate before she made her note. “Anything else?”

I was willing to discuss anything else but Isabela. She was the only thing I couldn’t compromise on. Nothing else seemed to matter. “No.”

Her eyebrow rose slightly, and she set her pen down. “Thank you for trusting me, Mr. Ammo.”

I wasn’t sure why I did.

She grabbed the recorder and pressed her thumb into the button. It started to record. “You’re one of the top ten richest people in the world with a net worth of over sixty billion dollars. It’s the kind of success most people will never even dream of. What has been the biggest contributor to your success?”

It was a stale question, the kind I got all the time. “I worked hard. Before I went to college, I knew I wanted to be an entrepreneur. I’d been fascinated by business, but not just running a company or working for one. I wanted to start something that would live long after I died. I wanted to be remembered for something. Immortality is something that motivates a great deal. I work so hard in life to secure my station in death.”

The waiter brought our drinks then walked off again. Scarlet didn’t react to his presence, her eyes glued to mine. She must have anticipated my answer, but she still seemed genuinely interested by it. “What do you love most about it? And what do you hate the most?”

“I love the power. When I want something, I get it. People are aware of my presence the instant I walk into a room. I have the ability to make anything happen. But, as they say, with great power comes great responsibility. I think I handle that well. What I hate most is being in the public eye. People think they know me based on who I’m dating or what suit I wear. Honestly, no one really knows me.”

Scarlet didn’t touch her glass of wine. It was deep red, almost purple. I wondered if she would leave a lipstick mark once she took a drink. It was a stupid thought to have, and I didn’t know why I had it. She seemed more interested in me than taking a drink. “You’re very particular about your suits. It’s rumored that you never wear the same one twice. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Why is that?”

“My suits are my image. They heighten my presence and exemplify my power. They also complement my mood. I never feel the same way on any given day, so I never wear the same suit. They’re my most important possession, and they can change the outcome of business indirectly. There’s no greater feeling than putting on a new suit, still crisp from the designer. That’s a luxury I allow myself.”

“And what do you do with the suits once you’re done wearing them?”

“Donate them.”

She slightly nodded before she finally took a drink. Lipstick smeared on the glass, deep red like blood. She set it down again, her slender fingers wrapped around the stem. “Where do you donate them?”

“The United War Veterans Council. They distribute them to vets and other people looking for work. They wear them to their interviews. It’s part of their rehabilitation program. And like I said before, the right suit can make you feel like you’re worth billions—even if you aren’t. It can change the game, change your confidence.”

She didn’t pull out a list of notes during our interview. In fact, it felt more like a conversation than an interrogation. Scarlet didn’t seem like an editor getting a story her readers would want to read. She seemed like someone who wanted the truth—not some romanticized lie. Perhaps that was why Platform had the biggest list of subscribers in the media world.

“Your sons, Diesel and Jax Ammo, have followed in your footsteps. Did you push them to be successful businessmen as well? Or was that something they cultivated on their own?”

People usually asked questions about my own success. They didn’t seem to care about my relationship with my two sons. We were very different people. “I’ve always been close to Diesel and Jax. Once they became adults, our relationship shifted from parent and child and turned into a friendship. I know both of them look up to me in a lot of ways, and I suspect I have a lot to do with their motivations. But honestly, I pushed them a lot too. It was important to me to raise fine men, the kind of men that could stand on their own two feet and take care of their own family. Not only did I succeed, but they exceeded all of my expectations. They’re much better versions of myself.”

Scarlet gave me a smile. “You sound proud.”

“I’m proud of all my sons—especially Brett.” I didn’t talk about him much, and I needed to do it more. He carried a different last name, but he was a member of my family. Brett and I had started a new relationship, but we still had a lot of work to do. “He started from nothing. I didn’t help him with his business, and he figured out a way to achieve his goals on his own. Now he’s one of the biggest car designers in the industry, and he’s made millions.”

“Diesel told his version of your broken relationship a few months ago. You’ve obviously made up and have moved forward, which is great to hear. But is there anything else you’d like to share? Has that experience taught you something that you can impart to others? Family is the most important thing in the world—but it can also be the most toxic.”

She put it beautifully. Some families were perfect and didn’t have a single bump in the road, but most weren’t like that. There were difficult times, horrifying times. “My estrangement from my son had nothing to do with love. I’ve always loved him with everything I have. I’d sacrifice my life for his in a heartbeat. I still remember the first time I held him in my arms. It’s hard to believe he was ever that small considering his size now…he’s just as big as I am. Our separation was entirely my fault, and I admit that with no shame.”

“Would you mind telling us what happened?”

“Diesel’s story isn’t far from the truth. I didn’t treat Brett with the love he deserved. It drove him away, and it also pushed Diesel away as well. He didn’t tolerate my treatment of Brett, so he left. I’m proud of him for the decision he made. He stood up for someone when he could have taken the easy way out—but he didn’t.” My life would have been so different if I hadn’t let my jealousy and pain get to me. But I had, and this was my reality.

“I loved my wife in a way I can never explain. Our relationship was intense, beautiful…and so many other things. My love for her made me a very jealous man. Knowing she’d loved someone else had always tortured me. Knowing she’d been with someone else when we could have had more time together always haunted me. So I resented Brett because of it…she made him with another man she loved. I should have taken him in as my own, but that’s not what happened. It was impossible for me to look at him at not think of his father…” My eyes remained trained on hers even though the tension filled the air between us. I was brutally honest with my confession, no longer caring what people thought of me. I’d committed my actions, and now I had to face the consequences. “I realized how wrong I was and I’ve worked to repair my relationship with him. He’s a man now, old enough that he doesn’t need a father. But I want him in my life. It’s not just because my wife is disappointed in me. It’s because I want to get back the time we lost.”

“Thank you for sharing. You sound like a father who’s willing to do anything for his family.”

“I am—even if that means admitting I was wrong. Before I had kids, I imagined having a family would be easy. It would be simple and fulfilling. But as I aged, I realized being a parent is the most difficult job you’ll ever have. It’s unpredictable, heartbreaking, and stressful. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, despite my experience in so many other areas. Nothing in life would have prepared me for the venture. Being a single parent only made the task even more difficult. But all I can do is apologize for my mistakes and never give up. I love my sons more than life itself, and I’m committed to being everything they need—at every stage of their lives. I won’t repeat my mistakes, and I’m going to enjoy every minute I have left with them. For other parents out there, times can be difficult. But it’s also the most rewarding thing you’ll ever do.”

She hung on to my words even when I’d finished speaking. She gave a slight nod, her expression hard as she concentrated on my face. “Well said, Mr. Ammo. I have a daughter, and it’s been good as well as bad.”

“How old is she?”

“She’s a junior in college. I had her very young…”

I was curious to know how old she was, but it felt like an inappropriate question. “Then I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes…I do.” She sipped her wine again, taking a bigger drink this time. “Were you surprised when Diesel told you he was engaged to Tatum Titan?”

“No.” I was the one who pushed him to marry her. “And he made the best decision of his life.”

“Sounds like you’ve already welcomed her into the family.”

“Yes. She already feels like a daughter.”

“The shooting rocked the entire nation…how has it affected you?”

It affected me in a million ways. Tatum was a wonderful person who didn’t deserve that, and my son didn’t deserve to be in pain. It was so chilling it froze me right down to the bone. “The incident has shed light on the way some men still view women. Bruce Carol’s vendetta only shows that some men refuse to give a professional woman the respect she deserves. If he can’t beat her, then he needs to destroy her. Instead of acknowledging that the better businessperson won, he hated her for her fierce intelligence. He wanted her to be prey—and stay prey. It’s sickening, and I’m glad Tatum killed him.” It was a risky thing to say in an interview, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care how that statement would make Mrs. Carol feel or her children. If Tatum hadn’t killed him first, she’d be the one in a graveyard. “I’m proud of her for the way she handled the situation. Not too many people would have had the courage to stare down their gunman the way she stared him down. And even when she was bleeding out of her chest, she didn’t stop fighting. She kept going until she won. She’s a role model to all of us—not just women. It’s difficult for me to see such a strong person confined to a bed, to know they’re fighting for their life in surgery as I sit in the waiting room. But her recovery has been remarkable, and it just shows that the darkness can’t last forever. The light will return—and it’ll shine brighter than it did before.” I was proud of Tatum for continuing to live her life with the same dignity as before. She didn’t flinch at loud noises, and she wasn’t afraid to go back to work. She refused to let the trauma affect her mental state of being, and she obviously didn’t feel any remorse for taking a man’s life—not that she should. I was proud of her in the way every father should be proud of his daughter. She refused to be the victim—and she did it with grace.

Scarlet watched me for a long time, letting my final response fill the air. She didn’t ask another question, and when she reached for the recorder on the table, I knew the interview was over. “Thank you, Mr. Ammo. I think our readers will be fascinated by this story—I know I am.” She placed the recorder in her clutch then cleared her throat. “I’ll have my crew contact your team to set up the photo shoot. And I’ll give you my article before I publish it, just to make sure you approve of it.”

No one had ever offered that to me before. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Ammo. I know you’re a very busy man.” She prepared to stand up.

We hadn’t gotten our lunch yet, and normally, that wouldn’t matter to me. The sooner I could leave, the better. Pointless conversations about work never ceased to bore me. But my body stayed in the chair because I didn’t want to leave. “Have somewhere to be?”

“No. But I’m sure you do.” She stood up, a strand of hair coming loose and falling in front of her face.

I nodded back to the chair. “Have lunch with me.”

“Are you sure?” She opened her clutch and prepared to put the cash on the table for the meal she never received.

If she sat down again, a conversation would ensue. I could go back to my office and get some work done so I could go home early, but I wanted to stay in that exact spot. It was the first time I wanted to have a conversation—even if it was pointless. Even with my ladies, I didn’t spend much time talking to them. Sometimes they talked and I listened, but it was usually with partially deaf ears.

But I wanted her to stay. “I’m sure.”