Chapter Fifteen
Vivien stared into space, enjoying the faint buzz left over from last night. After pizza, there’d been another two slow, steamy rounds before she’d crept out of Liam’s townhouse in the wee hours of the morning. Liam had looked so peaceful, lying there, deep in the exhausted sleep of a well-sexed man. She’d texted him when she got home, so he wouldn’t fret, but now she’d almost wished she’d stayed. Waking up to lazy, sleepy morning sex wasn’t something she usually indulged in, but for a man who was that good in bed, she might make an exception.
“Someone looks cheerful today.” Eli Williams let himself in her office, a grim expression on his face.
“Eli. Hi. How have you been?” She sat up a little, flipping a lock of loose hair behind her shoulder. She hadn’t had time to pull it into a bun this morning, but she enjoyed having it down more than she thought.
“Well, once I recovered from the near aneurysm I had this morning when I spoke with your guard from last night, I’ve been fine.” Eli crossed his arms over his chest, feet braced apart.
Guilt flickered through her for a moment, but she brushed it aside as she had Liam’s concern the night before. “I’m a big girl, Eli. I don’t need a guard dog following my every move, especially when I’m going to the house of someone we know isn’t involved in this mess.”
Eli’s face took on the no-nonsense expression it’d held when she first met him in Saudi Arabia, when he’d lectured her coworker for not respecting the guidance of their interpreter regarding their safe passage outside their hotel.
“Okay. And what would you have done if you got a flat tire? Whoever’s doing this could be tailing you. A woman alone on the side of the road is a perfect target. What would you have done then?”
“Give it up, Eli. I gave her hell about it last night. Didn’t do a damn bit of good. She still drove herself home in the middle of the night.”
Liam’s rich voice sent tingles skittering down her nerves, tingles that stopped abruptly when she saw who was with him. Sophia, with her perfect blonde ponytail and a stylish pair of red metal glasses and her skinny body, probably honed by regular visits to the FBI gym. What was she doing here? And why was she with Liam? Jealousy flared inside her, an emotion she wasn’t used to and didn’t particularly want to feel right now.
Such a mess. Her once perfectly ordered life was now a total and complete mess. Awkward mornings-after rarely happened to her, and they never happened in the office, in front of her lover’s ex-girlfriend who she didn’t doubt could kick her ass in a fight. She really needed to get back to New York soon, or she might lose it.
“You’re not my keeper,” Vivien pointed out coolly. “And I sent you a text, letting you know I’d arrived safely.”
Sophia frowned, all business. “Until we know who’s behind the break-in, you need to keep your guard up.”
“So no more of this independent bullshit,” Eli said. “If you want to go somewhere, you go with me or Liam or one of my guys. You’re too valuable to risk.”
“Fine,” Vivien said, rolling her eyes. She stood and moved to sit on the sofa, motioning for them to join her. “Have you made any progress in finding our mystery bandits, Sophia? Because this whole situation is getting old fast.”
Eli took a seat in an armchair. To Vivien’s surprise, Liam took a seat on the sofa right beside her, leaving barely any space between them, while Sophia took a seat in the other armchair opposite Eli. Vivien subtly tried to put a few inches between her and Liam, her gaze darting to his ex-girlfriend, but he was having none of it. He clearly wanted the whole world to know they’d slept with each other. Well, fuck that. He’d agreed to casual, which meant no one could know. She’d played this game before, and he definitely wasn’t playing by the rules.
“Nothing’s come up. Whoever’s doing this is good at hiding their tracks or has someone covering for them,” the blonde said.
Eli pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ve done recovery work, and we haven’t found anything on the home security system or MT’s. So far, there hasn’t been any chatter about more copycats.”
Sophia leaned forward, bracing her forearms on her knees as her hazel eyes flickered over Vivien and Liam. “I want to get some of my computer experts access to the books and computer logs. I’m hoping they’ll be able to track the IP addresses through whatever backdoors and loopholes your in-house guys can’t. This is off the bureau’s radar, but these guys are experts at digging up what people don’t want found.”
Liam stretched his arm along the back of the couch, the warmth of it radiating against Vivien’s neck. She sat up to move away from it, trying not to pay attention to the desire zipping through her traitorous body.
“What about Barton? Have you found anything on him?” Liam asked.
Vivien frowned, worry and doubt niggling at her. “Are we sure my uncle’s involved? I know he’s an asshole, but the more I think about it, the more it seems ridiculous to think he’s behind all of this. Why now? Why wouldn’t he just move on to another company if he hated MT so much?”
“We don’t know anything for sure,” Eli admitted. “But you didn’t hear your uncle at the gala. There’s something not right with him, something bubbling under the surface. My gut tells me not to trust him any more than I would a cobra.”
“We’re looking at all angles,” Sophia assured her. “I don’t think focusing in on any one offender would be wise until we can get closer to the source.”
Liam let out an impatient huff. “Come on, Soph. He’s been trying to undermine her at every turn, telling everyone that a woman isn’t fit to run a company, let alone one of this size. How can you tell me he’s not behind all this?”
Vivien flinched inwardly at the familiar way Liam talked to Sophia. She’d been around her lovers’ exes before, but after everything with Christopher and after what passed between her and Liam last night, watching the interplay stung more.
“But why would he undermine the company he wants to run?” Sophia argued back.
“Because he has some savior complex? Because of some twisted need for revenge against Jed?” Liam suggested, his hand idly stroking the exposed skin at the back of her neck, moving along the top of her red silk blouse. Vivien stiffened, but she didn’t shrug off his touch.
“For whatever reason, my uncle disliked my father, but they still managed to run this company together for over thirty years.” Vivien sighed. “While I find my uncle’s tactics to be offensive, I would hope that my father had the sense to put executives and board members in place who wouldn’t buy into such sexist, antiquated ideas.”
“So far most of them are ignoring your uncle, but he’s a persuasive guy.” Liam pushed his glasses up his nose with his free hand. “It’s going to be hard to keep him from making progress. The board members are going to be easier for him to persuade than the executives. Most of the board are investors Barton brought in at one time or another.”
Vivien crossed her arms, glaring at the toe of her blue suede heels, her jaw tightening. “Explains why there’s so few women. So, you think if he can get the other executives on his side, he’ll just maneuver the board into ignoring whatever recommendation I make?”
Sophia hesitated. “Speculation is a dangerous tactic, especially with a guy like Barton, but that seems to be his game plan if what you’re saying is true.”
“Most of the board members are good ole boys. They’ll be inclined to believe him if he says you can’t be trusted to run a company since you’re a female,” Eli added.
“Good Lord. Since when did having a vagina and boobs render someone incapable of taking charge of something?” She immediately whipped her head around and pointed a finger at Liam. “Not a word from you, nerd boy.”
“Do you think your computer forensics pals will be able to find a way to link all of this back to Barton?” Liam asked instead, a smile tugging at his lips as he moved Vivien’s finger out of his face.
“I sure as hell hope so.” Eli scratched the back of his neck. “My gut tells me that he’s part of all of this, whether he’s the patsy or the instigator.”
“But we can’t use your gut as evidence,” Sophia pointed out. “And my superiors have tied my hands until we have concrete proof.”
“Exactly,” Eli said. “And if he is behind this, he’s probably had years to cover his tracks.”
They discussed a few more logistics before Liam’s smartwatch beeped. “I’ve got a meeting in five minutes with some guys from marketing.”
“And I’m due in legal to check on the security upgrades down there.”
They all stood. Eli and Liam started to leave, their dark heads together as they discussed something, but Vivien reached a hand out to stop Sophia. The blonde raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything until the men had left.
“You need something?” Sophia asked.
Vivien bit her bottom lip. “I didn’t want to say anything about this, but I feel like with all the digging and the focus on my uncle, I should probably at least loop you in. But I don’t want you to say anything to Liam and Eli because they’d flip out.”
“About what?” The FBI agent motioned for Vivien to sit down. “Is it something to do with the investigation?”
“Yeah.” Vivien reached for her phone, pulling up the screenshot she’d taken of the text message before she’d deleted the text. “I got this the night of the CMF benefit gala.”
Sophia swore under her breath. “Why didn’t you say anything about it sooner?”
Vivien’s spine stiffened at the accusatory tone. “Because I didn’t think it was a big deal. Clearly, someone is trying to get under my skin. It’s not worth making a fuss over. It’s not like we could trace it. Whoever sent that sent it from a burner phone that was tossed long ago.”
“You don’t know that.” Sophia tapped around on the screen for a minute, checking her own phone. “I’ve sent the screenshot to myself. If someone is targeting you rather than just the company, that could shape our investigation, Vivien.”
“Right now, to whoever is behind this, I am the company.” Vivien stood. “If there’s nothing else you need from me, I need to get back to work.”
Sophia stopped her. “Be careful. You’re playing a dangerous game here, Ms. Monroe, with both the company and Liam. Liam doesn’t trust easily, and his forgiveness is hard to win if you cross him. He’s a good guy who doesn’t deserve to be put through the wringer another time.”
“If you’re so concerned about him, why did you break up with him in the first place?” The words were out before Vivien could stop them. “And why aren’t you with him now?”
The blonde looked away, her lips tight. “Liam and I were in two different places, and I got…tunnel vision. I didn’t think I’d get my dream job straight out of college, but when I did, I ran toward it as fast as I could. But I went about it all wrong. I was young and stupid, and I hurt one of the best guys I’ve ever known. We’re too much alike for us to have lasted forever, but I still consider him a friend. The way he looks at you? Well, I think you could hurt him more than I ever did if you’re not careful.”
“My relationship with Liam isn’t… We’re not serious, Agent Calhoun,” Vivien said, the words hollow to her own ears. She didn’t know what she and Liam were, despite her insistence they keep things casual. “Neither of us will be put through the wringer as long as you can find whoever is attacking my family’s company as soon as possible.”
…
“Vivien Monroe.” Vivien answered her cell phone, only half-paying attention as she typed a response to an email the head of marketing sent her about the launch of a new game. She’d forgotten that MT always held huge blowout events for new full-fledged video games. She cc’d the head of public relations so the two of them could work together to develop the list of invites.
She needed to get this email sent off so she could meet Liam at his house for dinner. Not that she was entirely sure they’d make it to dinner. Discretion was hard when she was living with her little sister. They’d managed to sneak in a few booty calls the last few weeks, but tonight, she planned to have her way with him all night long. It pissed her off, but she’d even cleared it with Eli. Her driver would drop her off at Liam’s, then Liam would bring her back to Haven tomorrow.
“Ms. Monroe. So, nice to know you still exist.”
A chill went down her spine. Shit. She needed to remember to screen her calls. “Simon. You know I still exist. I sent you an email about the Kirk account this morning.”
“For all I know that could have been from some poor schmuck you’ve hired to do your work for you while you play boss lady for your daddy’s little company.” The sneer in Simon’s voice grated on Vivien’s nerves. Working for him had never been a picnic, but it was worse from fifteen hundred miles away.
“In case you haven’t noticed, sir, I’m adept at doing both jobs well.” She leaned back in her chair, stretching her feet out in front of her. The peep toes were a good idea with the jeans, she thought, studying the bright-red shoes Greer had insisted she keep from the stuff the stylist sent over.
Simon let out what she thought must be a growl. “It’s time for you to return to New York, Monroe. I understand family loyalty and all that bullshit, but your clients won’t wait forever. They should be your priority, not your father’s company.”
“Really?” She rubbed between her brows. Did he hear what he was saying? Then again, a month ago, she might have agreed with him. Now, while New York called to her, she couldn’t help but feel torn between both responsibilities. They weighed on her in equal measure—a fact that scared the shit out of her. “I understand that I’m asking a lot, sir, but there’s no one to take my place at the moment. I’ve been in constant contact with my clients, and all of them have been very understanding.”
“You’re jeopardizing your career with this little stunt,” Simon snarled. “You know that, don’t you? There are a hundred hungry associates who would wet themselves to take over your position.”
Worry gnawed at her, but she tamped down on it. Whatever Simon might say, the partners loved her and they needed her to show younger clients that they weren’t old patriarchal fossils from the last century. None of those associates had the rapport with their clients that Vivien did, nor did they have the pull with the powers that be. “It’s only for a few more weeks. I assure you, you won’t find any fault with the quality of my work, and my clients will be maintained.”
Simon went on for several more minutes, laying out sky-high expectations of what she would do when she got back. Apparently, he’d spent the time he wasn’t coming into her office to hound her devising a whole list of projects to inflict on her as payback. She listened with half an ear, impatiently tapping her finger on the glass desk, trying to ignore the tension headache growing at the base of her skull. This was not how she wanted her evening to start. By the time she managed to get Simon off the phone, she felt as though she’d run a marathon.
Trying to regain her focus, she turned back to the computer screen and saw that a new email had popped into her personal account inbox. Briefly, the now common fear of finding an email like the text she’d received the night of the gala hit her, but she read the name and her heart contorted into knots to match the ones Simon left in her stomach. For a second, she hovered over the delete button. It would be better to delete Christopher’s email and be done with it.
But her mushy, freaked-out brain didn’t have the capacity to make the better decision.
Hello my beauty.
I know I have no right to call you that, but that’s how I’ll always think of you. Why did you return the necklace? I had it designed just for you. When are you coming home? I want to see you, to talk, to explain. I know I messed up, but I can’t bear to lose you. There must be some way for us to make this work. Take the time you need, but when you come back, come back to me.
C
Anger and a bone-deep weariness mixed with the stinging pain of the heartache he’d caused her. Why on earth could he not get the message? She didn’t want this—any of it. She sure as hell didn’t have time to deal with all of the drama and baggage that followed Christopher like the cloud of his expensive cologne.
Gathering her purse and the small overnight bag she’d packed, she wondered if she should just go home and curl up to watch TV. What had been a good mood had turned into a seriously pissed off one in the space of a twenty-minute phone call and a seven-line email. Liam didn’t need to deal with this, but she also didn’t want to go back to Haven and face her sister right now, either. Greer was too perceptive and prickly for Vivien to be able to settle and let the mood melt away.
She needed something…something more than the wary coolness that lingered between her and her sister. She needed a warm body that would fuck her senseless and let her forget everything for a few hours. Yes, that’s what she needed. Liam Hale and his dick knew exactly how to make her forget all of the bad shit that plagued her every hour of every day, whether she was awake or sleeping.
Right as the driver closed the car door behind her, a steady patter of rain hit her window. Great. Just great. True Texas weather. Random rainstorm on a day she didn’t have an umbrella. She hated rain. One more thing to add to her shitty mood.
She spent the ride to Liam’s trying to relax and forget the mess in New York, but between the rain and the well of pissed off bubbling inside her, it didn’t work. Damn it. She’d been looking forward to tonight; a night spent in the company of a hot man who wanted her and made her weak in the knees, the two of them taking their time and enjoying each other to the fullest, in and out of bed.
Trust her asshole of a boss and her selfish bastard of an ex to ruin it. It’s like they had a sixth sense or something. Simon always managed to call her away from the few enjoyable dates she had. Anytime she tried to relax on the weekend, some emergency came up. And Christopher seemed in tune with when she’d almost managed to put him behind her and he’d send her some present, trying to win her back. Three months of that was more than she could take.
Grabbing her bag, she smiled at her driver as he started to get out. “Don’t get out. I can make it to the door on my own.
Of course, as she opened the door, the rain started to pelt down harder. Nothing left but to make a run for it.
“Hey, pretty girl.”
Liam’s warm greeting at the open door should have soothed her, but it didn’t. The soft kiss he gave her didn’t do much, either. All it did was make her want to slam him against the wall and screw all of the sweetness out of his eyes. Except it was that sweetness that called to her. Some of the anger slipped away, but the irritation remained.
“Everything okay? Do you need a towel? I was getting worried. I thought you said you’d be here by seven.”
She walked in, pushing a damp lock of hair behind her ear, ignoring Flynn as he danced around her ankles. “I’m okay. My hair and my shoes took the worst of it. That jackass I work for called right as I was about to leave.”
She set her bags down on one of the barstools. Flynn continued to whimper for attention, following her into the living room where she sat on the couch. He immediately jumped up next to her, nudging her hand until she started to scratch his head.
Liam took a seat next to her, turning so he could study her. She tried not to squirm under his gaze, not wanting him to see how irritated she was. “He still giving you hell about being here?”
The rain pounded against the tin roof of the small back porch, creating a softly rumbling cocoon that echoed into the quiet living room. Vivien continued to pet the dog, not looking at Liam. One look of compassion or pity from him, and she might break down.
“Yes. It’s ridiculous. I mean, I’m working my ass off to do everything he’s asked of me, on top of running a multimillion-dollar company. But he’s throwing around threats about me losing my job and eager young associates just waiting to replace me.”
“Would he really fire you for being here too long?” Liam reached out to pet Flynn, too, their hands brushing, sending sparks down her arm. Hell. The man wreaked havoc on her senses without even trying.
“No. My contract is airtight. As long as there’s not a drop in the quality of my work, he’s full of shit.” She dropped her head back against the sofa cushions behind her, listening to the rain for a few moments. “But he can make my life hell when I get back. He spent most of the phone call enumerating all of the things waiting for me when I get back.”
Liam’s hand moved from Flynn’s fur to stroke a few stray locks of hair away from her face. She’d started wearing her hair down more because he liked it. The gesture was so…familiar. Comfortable.
Did she even want him to be comfortable with her?
“Don’t borrow trouble, pretty girl. You’re the one in charge of your life, not him. If he doesn’t like the fact that your world doesn’t revolve around him and his ego, think about not going back. Tell him to screw himself.”
God, that sounded so, so tempting right now. It would be almost too easy. Just flip Simon and the entire firm the bird, and strike out on her own. She finally met Liam’s gaze, reading the underlying meaning there—she could stay here.
“I’ve spent too much time and energy working to get where I am at that company. Leaving would mean that he won. As much as I like my clients, they wouldn’t follow me. Starting over at a different company would be worse than sucking it up and dealing with Simon. Once I get back, I can dig in and work to show the higher-ups that I’m more valuable than Simon. Once I do that, I’ll be out from under his thumb and can do things my way.”
“You don’t do that already?” Liam teased, his fingers running through her damp hair, the strands sliding easily with each movement. That felt so good. Too good. Some of the tension left her shoulders, but the stress headache continued to throb at the base of her skull.
“Mmm… As much as I can. I just have to do the appropriate song-and-dance routine to get my way with Simon.” Vivien closed her eyes. “I don’t suppose you have some aspirin and a large glass of wine hidden somewhere in this bachelor pad?”
Liam leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the center of her forehead. “I think I can manage that. I’ve got chicken potpie in the oven on warm. Maybe food will help, too.”
“Sounds good.”
He stood and held out a hand. “But first, you give me the phone.”
“What? No. I need it. What if—” She held her phone to her chest.
“Uh-uh. They’ve had enough of your time. Tonight is about you. Surrender the phone or no wine.”
“Sadist,” she muttered, but she gave her phone to him and watched as he switched it off.
Remaining on the couch, she shifted to watch Liam move around the kitchen. In his loose jeans, black Batman T-shirt, and bare feet, he shouldn’t have looked so sexy. Everything about it right down to the Buddy Holly glasses screamed “nerd,” but paired with his dark curly hair, killer blue eyes, and ridiculously delicious body it worked.
On top of all that, he could cook.
She gratefully accepted the wine, the aspirin, and the kiss he offered. Her tongue darted out to tease his lips, enjoying the deep rumble of approval. “You need any help?”
“Nope.” Liam returned to the kitchen and pulled a casserole dish out and placed it on the granite countertop. “You enjoy your wine and tell me what else is bugging you.”
She tried to sidestep the question for the moment. Talking to Liam about Chris sounded like the last thing she wanted to do. “Mind if I kick off my shoes? My feet are killing me.”
Liam peered over the kitchen bar, eying her shoes. “Those are pretty sexy shoes there. But I’m betting they’re not helping that headache of yours any. Go ahead and make yourself at home. Just be sure you put them on the coffee table, otherwise the chew-toy king over there will make them flats for you. And after dinner, I’ll give your feet some special treatment.”
“Aw, you wouldn’t do that, would you?” She cupped Flynn’s face in her hands, letting him give her a doggy kiss before she removed the shoes. With her shoes in one hand and wineglass in the other, she moved over to the bar to watch him finish the preparation. The aroma of chicken and subtle spices and tender vegetables filled the air as he cut into the dish. “Where’d you learn to cook like this?”
Liam flashed her a quick smile as he worked. “My mom, of course. Being a single mom, she didn’t want me to starve when she had to work, and she didn’t want me to grow up on processed food, so as soon as I was old enough to be trusted with the stove, she taught me to cook.”
“I wish I could cook. I love watching all of those cooking competition shows, and I always try to take my clients to the best restaurants in the city, but I never have time to cook. Besides, cooking for one sounds really sad.”
“It’s definitely better to have a gorgeous woman to cook for.” Liam opened a drawer, pulled out silverware. “Even if she looks a little worse for the wear after getting stuck in the rain.”
“You talk about your mom a lot,” Vivien noted.
A quick grin flashed across his face. “Suppose I do. She raised me on her own, and we’re so close, I convinced her to let me buy her the townhouse in back of mine so I can keep an eye on her.”
A pang of jealousy stabbed Vivien’s heart. Would she and her mother have been that close if she’d lived? “What about your dad?”
The grin faded, replaced by a mulish expression. “He bailed on us when I was a kid. Didn’t need him anyway. Mom kicked ass at being both mother and father.”
Ah. So, she wasn’t the only one with paternal issues. Good to know, but she decided to drop it for the moment as the food distracted her.
“I don’t suppose that’s even remotely low fat, is it?” she asked, noting the flaky crust as he spooned food into sturdy bowls.
“Ah, no,” he said. “You barely remember to eat two meals a day; why are you worrying about low fat?”
She rolled her eyes, taking a long drink of wine. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got more than a few curves. If I don’t try to eat low fat, they get a bit more substantial, which is hell on a girl’s wardrobe. I usually get in a regular workout back in New York, but I’m lucky to get sleep here, let alone exercise.”
“Hey now, I like your curves, pretty girl.” He brought the bowls full of steaming food around and placed one in front of her. Instead of going straight to the other stool, he paused to place a series of knee-melting kisses along the curve of her neck and run his free hand along her side in an appreciative caress. “You’ve always reminded me of one of those old-Hollywood beauties, all luscious curves and pale skin. You’re perfect; every guy’s dream woman.”
Pretty words, she thought, her toes curling at the sensuality of his breath tickling her ear and the passion in his voice. Her mind went back to the first time he took her, right on the table not four feet from where they were. The flash of desire faded at his next words.
“The call from your boss isn’t the only thing causing the knots in those gorgeous shoulders of yours. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s the same thing that’s been bugging you since you got here.”
Vivien looked down at her wine as he took his seat. Damn it. She didn’t want to talk about this—ever. “I’m not that woman, Liam. I don’t dig up the past and pick it apart and talk about my feelings.”
“Maybe not.” He took a bite of his food, unperturbed. “But I think that whatever it is has been eating at you too long. I also know that you don’t have anyone back in New York to share your problems with. Now, I’m feeding you, and I’ve plied you with alcohol. We’re a team. So, we’re going to sit here until you tell me what’s causing those shadows in and under your eyes.”
Liam Hale was many things, but impatient wasn’t one of them. Stubborn man that he was, he’d sit there, nonchalantly eating his dinner, waiting for her reply. Savvy investment manager Vivien would tell him to shove his good intentions up his ass. She’d run as far and as fast as her kick-ass high heels would let her.
Tired, emotional, pissed off—and, okay, hurt—Vivien didn’t want to keep fighting. The food smelled so good and the wine had already mellowed her, thanks to her empty stomach.
“You really want to know this?” She took a long drink from her wineglass. “Because I’m pretty sure this is outside the scope of the friends with benefits/casual relationship world we’re supposed to be in.”
“The keyword in that ridiculous sentence was ‘friends.’” Blue eyes stayed steady on her, even as he ate his food. “Friends are supposed to be able to talk about the really bad shit life has thrown at us.”
Why did she feel compelled to tell him everything? It scared her, but the fear didn’t stop her. She took a bite of the potpie, letting the buttery flavor of the crust, the tang of the gravy and the heartiness of the filling soothe the jittery parts of her.
“A little less than a year ago, I met a guy. He was exactly my type; older, very powerful and sophisticated. Ivy League education, Fortune 500 company executive.”
Liam nodded, not bothering to point out that he only fit one of those descriptors. Which she was surprisingly okay with.
“So you started dating?”
“Not at first. He asked right off the bat, but I thought I was too busy to date. He was also one of my firm’s clients. I didn’t deal with his portfolio personally, but I used that as part of my excuse.”
“Always focused on the job.” The comment was meant to be a factual statement and there was no judgment behind the words, but they still stung her wounds. She tried to soothe the pain with more potpie, but it only numbed the ache a little.
“It didn’t last long. Christopher is one of those charming guys who chips away until he gets what he wants.” She shrugged, smiling a little ruefully, toying with her fork. “He plotted his strategy with precision that put Machiavelli to shame. Asking the partners to let me sit in on the meetings about his portfolio, then asking my advice. He played on my desire to prove myself and sided with my advice over that of one of the partners.”
For a few moments, the only sound that passed between them was the gentle clanking of Liam’s fork against his thick ceramic bowl. She tried to eat, but the knot in her chest made that difficult.
“Sounds like a pretty smart guy. But you’re just as smart and stubborn as hell to boot.”
She wished that were true. “I wasn’t so smart when it came to Christopher. After that meeting where he backed my choice, I caved and met him for drinks. Next thing I know, I’m in bed with him. Three dates later, I’m infatuated. But he’s mysterious about his past. He wants to know everything about me, but doesn’t say much about his personal life.”
“So you got curious,” Liam said, taking a long drag on his beer.
“Wouldn’t you?” Vivien sipped her wine, wishing she could drown in an alcohol-induced haze for a little while. “Part of me wishes I hadn’t. It would have been so much easier to go on as we were. Good sex, decent conversation, expensive gifts. Most women wouldn’t have thought twice.”
“But you’re not most women.” Liam turned toward her, blue eyes steady and patient, more comforting than a hot bath on a cold day. “What’d you find?”
The words stuck in her throat, and embarrassment stung her cheeks. How could she admit how utterly stupid she was? For some reason, she wanted Liam to respect her—to keep on respecting her. No backing out now, though. He wouldn’t let her.
To buy some time, she took another bite of her potpie, drawing what comfort she could from the savory bite. Chewing slowly, she finally swallowed, taking a drink of wine as much to fortify her courage as to wet her dry throat.
“His wife.”