CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Mia

I don’t deny Grayson his request. If he wants to know how I ended up working for Ri, I’ll tell him. I want him to know. I need him to know. I move out of the chair we’re sharing and sit on the ottoman in front of him. And I go back in time, taking him there with me…

Two weeks and seven pounds lost since Grayson and I split, I stand at the window of my new apartment, watching rain pound the Manhattan streets. I should be relieved to have this place, considering it came fully furnished, with a one-year lease, and a fabulous price, but it’s just so damn empty, like I am right now. I miss Grayson so much and every time he calls I just want to talk to him, but I miss him too much to do that right now. I’ll believe anything he says. I need to believe he’s innocent, but every time I travel down that rabbit hole, I wake up from a nightmare involving him and Becky’s stupid naked breasts.

My cellphone rings and I walk to the basic wooden kitchen table in the corner of the loft-style space and grab my phone to find my father calling. “Honey, you haven’t been out to see me in weeks.”

“I know. Sorry. It’s been crazy.”

“You and your billionaire fiancé are up to fun things, I hope. Are you two in the city by chance? I had to come in for business.”

“I’m here. Where are you?”

He gives me a location which isn’t far from here. I suggest the coffee shop on the corner because I figure inviting him here would shock him. I have to tell him about Grayson. We hang up and my cellphone rings with Grayson’s number. God. I want to take the call. I want to just hear his voice. I hit the answer button. “Mia, baby. Please. Mia, I need to see you. This is killing me.”

I start to cry. Damn it, I can’t cry before I see my father. “I shouldn’t have answered.” I hang up. I want to call back. He calls back. I hit decline and set my phone down, rubbing my palms down my jeans. Don’t pick it back up. Don’t talk to him. His voice, that rough masculine timbre, God, I love his voice so much. It’s just perfect, the way I thought he was.

I grab my black Chanel trench coat, which I bought myself with my first bonus check from the Bennett firm, earned fair and square with hard work. Once I’ve pulled it on, I settle my purse strap on my shoulder and pick up my phone as it rings again. I’m about to turn it off when a text buzzes and I dare to read it: Mia, I love you. I can’t even breathe without you. Come home.

Home? I type in my first text response to him through all of this. I never had a home with you. I just thought I did. And that hurts. You hurt me. You can’t fix it.

I turn off my phone and stare down at my naked ring finger. I inhale and stick my phone in my pocket. I hurry out of my new apartment, that will never be home but at least it’s mine, and rush down the narrow stairs leading to the street. It’s not a fancy building, but it’s in a safe area. I’ve barely settled at my table when my father walks in. I wave at him and he heads in my direction, and in jeans and a T-shirt that hug a fit body, his brown hair still thick at fifty-five, he’s still a catch, but today he looks weary… definitely weary.

I stand when he approaches and he gives me a hug. “I need some caffeine. Give me a quick minute.”

I nod and he walks to the counter, scrubbing his jaw as he does. Weary. Stressed. Worried. Those words go through my head over and over until he’s sitting in front of me. “What going on with my daughter?”

“What’s wrong?”

He narrows his eyes on me. “You always could read me, heck you read everyone. That’s why you’re a damn good attorney.”

“Yes. What’s wrong?”

“I took a loan to grow the business that I’m struggling to pay back. I went to the bank to try to get a loan to pay back the loan. As crazy as that sounds. No go on that. It sucks. The business is growing, but these homebuilders pay at ninety days. I just don’t have the cash flow to float the money, which is a common problem for companies growing.”

“I’ll help. How much are the payments?”

“No. I’m not having that rich fiancé of yours thinking your father is taking advantage. That’s not happening.”

“Dad, I’ll help. Not Grayson.” I have it on the tip of my tongue to tell him about the breakup, but something holds me back. “How much?”

His phone buzzes with a text. He grabs it and looks at it. “That’s the bank. They want to see me again. You won’t need to help. This has to be good news.” He squeezes my hand. “Sorry to run off.”

“Can you call me afterward?”

“Yes, but don’t worry. All is well. This is good news.”

He doesn’t believe it’s good news. I see it in his face. I watch him leave and there is a knot that expands in my belly. I press my hands to my face. I wasted a week crying and I just started sending out resumes. I need a job. “Mia.”

I look up to find Ri, or rather Riley Montgomery, standing above me. He’s rich. He’s powerful. He went to school with Grayson and hates him, yet they cross paths too often and Grayson believes this is no coincidence. “What are you doing here, Ri?”

“I got your address off a resume floating around, but you didn’t answer your door. I walked in for coffee and here you are.” He motions to the seat. “Can I join you?”

No, I think. “Why?”

He sits down, his dark hair a rumpled mess that somehow still looks planned on him. Everything about this man, including his good looks, feels planned. He’s the typical tall, dark and good-looking, and today he’s in expensive jeans and a T-shirt that probably cost a few hundred bucks. That’s how he operates. He flaunts his money, while Grayson does not.

“I want to hire you,” he says. “I’ll up your pay with Bennett by twenty-five percent and give you a fifty-thousand-dollar sign-on bonus.”

“Why?”

“You’re a star in the making, and if Grayson managed to lose you, I’m happy to sweep in and take advantage. We’re growing. We’re expanding nationally. We need talent.”

“Expanding nationally. Like Bennett. How very Grayson of you.”

“I assure you, Mia, that nothing about me resembles Grayson. You have twenty-four hours to decide.”

“I’m not fucking you. I’m not doing anything to hurt Grayson.”

He laughs. “Do you want that in your employment contract?”

“No. I don’t want the job.”

He smirks. “Think about it.” He slides a card in front of me. “My personal cell is on there. It’s a good offer. And if Grayson is really gone from your life, if you’ve left him behind, why wouldn’t you take it?” He stands up and starts walking.

I watch him exit the coffee shop and there is no part of me even slightly tempted to take his offer. I grab my phone, turn it on and text my father: Call me after your meeting.

Feeling the need to do something, to get out of this chair, I leave Ri’s card on the table, push to my feet and hurry out of the coffee shop, my path taking me back to my building. I don’t let myself read the text messages from Grayson. Once I’m back inside my apartment, I sit down at the kitchen table and start working on resumes again. I have a few interviews. I have money saved because Grayson never let me spend any of my earnings. He was good to me, but now I feel like a kept woman. Isn’t that how it works? A rich guy takes care of you and then you look the other way? Except I didn’t want his money. I wanted him.

I start working, sending out resume after resume with custom cover letters, and I try repeatedly to reach my father with no luck. It’s several hours later when there is a knock on the door. My heart starts to race. Did Grayson find me? I will myself to calm down and walk to the door. “Who is it?”

“Delivery.”

“What delivery?”

An envelope slides under my door. I frown and open it to find a picture of a man with a scar down his face with a note on top:

Mia,

I thought you’d want to know the kind of person your father borrowed money from. Don’t be too hard on him. This guy is good at convincing people he’s legit until they default.

The job offer stands, as does the sign-on bonus.

—Ri

My throat is dry. My heart is still racing. I walk to the table and sit down and start reviewing the information in the envelope and it’s terrifying. I press my fist to my forehead and then before I can stop myself, I dial Grayson. “Mia?”

I just sit there, with his voice radiating through me, that voice, that wonderful, perfect voice.

“I love you, Mia. Come home.”

Home. My home with him. “You know that I have to do what I have to do to survive, right?”

“What does that mean?” he asks.

“It means I still love you, but I have to survive. I have to make decisions—”

“Mia—” I hang up and I grab the card Ri included in the folder and dial.

“Mia,” he greets me.

“Email me the offer.”

“And that’s how I ended up with Ri,” I say, finishing my story.

Grayson studies me as he has the entire time I’ve been talking, more stone than man, his expression unreadable. Abruptly, he stands up and I’m on my feet with him in an instant, not about to let him walk away. “Grayson—”

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

“I was going to when I called, but then I had this realization.”

“What realization, Mia?”

“That if I took your money, it would seem like I was using you, and too many people use you. We might have been over, but I didn’t want us to end with me holding a hand out. That’s not who I am and I guess I just needed you to know that I was real.”

He pulls me to him. “Damn it, woman. I wouldn’t have thought that. You know I care about your father. Some part of you knew, even then, that I’d do anything for you.”

“Because you will doesn’t mean it’s right for me to ask.” I swallow hard. “And everyone does. I see how people want a piece of you.”

He tangles his fingers into my hair. “And what about you, Mia? What do you want?”

“You. Just you.”

“Ask me what I want.”

“What do you want Grayson?”

“Everything this time, Mia. I didn’t have it last time, or you wouldn’t have left as easily as you did.” He doesn’t give me time to tell him no one could have more of me than he did, than he does. His mouth closes down on mine, and that chair, our perfect fucking, talking, us chair, is calling us.