Chapter 32

Jeremy

“You’re more creative than you look.”

A smile plays on my lips as I stare across the table at Linny. “Is that a compliment?”

She shrugs and finishes the last sip of wine from her glass. “That’s for you to decide.”

We’ve been sitting at this table in a bistro on the Upper West Side for the past hour. I ordered for us both when I arrived. She dove into the steak salad with gusto, complimenting me on my good taste.

I told her to eat it all since I plan on using up every ounce of her energy at the hotel around the corner once she agrees to join me there.

“I’ll take it as intended.” I drink from the glass of ice water the server has already refilled twice for me. “You don’t view me as the creative type, but you’re impressed by my creativity as it relates to my plan for us to fuck.”

Her brows lift at the last word. “Is that why you called this meeting? So you can tempt me with steak and wine before you strip me naked?”

I’d agree immediately except that the pale pink sweater dress she has on is the hottest thing I’ve seen her in, save for the tank top and tutu.

A vision of her in that dress on her knees with my cock sliding between her lips has been floating through my mind since she walked into the bistro.

I lean my forearms on the table and drop my voice to a low whisper. “We’re going to spend all afternoon fucking each other at the hotel around the corner.”

Her gaze drifts to the door of the bistro. “Are you taking me to a hotel instead of your place because you’re worried someone will spot us?”

That should be the reason, but it’s not.

I can’t take her to my apartment. Explaining why is a conversation for another time, another day, preferably when whatever is happening between us has a foundation that’s rooted in more than an undeniable attraction and phenomenal sex.

“We could go to my place, but Mitchell drops by there sometimes to annoy the hell out of me.” She rolls her eyes. “I never invite him over but that hasn’t stopped him from showing up unannounced.”

“When did your dad marry his mom?”

My question surprises her. I see it in the slowing of her hand as she lifts the napkin from the table to bring it to her mouth. “It’s been about seven years now.”

“Were you happy for them?” I ask, searching her face for any sign that this subject is making her uncomfortable. The only thing I see is quiet resignation.

She nods. “After my parents divorced, I wanted them to be happy. For the first couple of years I wanted them to do that together, but once I realized that would never happen, I was rooting for them both to find love again.”

It’s a mature approach to a fucked up situation.

“Did your mom find love again?”

A soft smile tugs at her lips. “She’s still looking, but she’s having a lot of fun figuring that out.”

“Tell me about your sister.” I lean back in the chair and cross my arms over my chest. “What’s she like?”

“Bethy?” Her entire face brightens. “She’s bold and smart. Bethy is blonde, blue-eyed. She’s the spitting image of my mom.”

I stumbled across a picture of Bethy online when I was searching for anything I could find about Linny. There wasn’t much but an image posted to Linny’s Instagram account four months ago caught my eye.

Linny was standing next to a blonde woman. They had their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. They looked nothing alike, but their bond was obvious. The tag in the caption took me to Bethy’s page.

She’s attractive, but in my eyes, she doesn’t hold a candle to Linny.

“What about your family?” she asks with a grin. “All I know is that you inherited the business from your granddad. There must be more to your story.”

She has no idea.

My eyes drift over her shoulder.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

Her napkin snaps out of her hand and hits the table. “Jesus, West. It was just a question.”

I shake my head, holding my hand in the air. “No, angel. That comment wasn’t for you.”

She glances back over her shoulder. “Isn’t that...”

I drop my napkin on the table and rise to my feet. “That’s my assistant. Something tells me I’m not going to like what she has to say.”

***

After Blythe takes a seat at the table, I scrub my hand over my face. “How did you find me?”

She taps the screen of the phone in her hand. “I put that tracking app back on your phone yesterday.”

Linny smiles. “You track his phone?”

Blythe nods, glancing at me. “He disappears from the office sometimes without leaving word where he’s going. If an emergency pops us, I need to know where he is.”

Confusion mars Linny’s expression. She doesn’t say anything, but I see the question in her eyes. She’s wondering if I abandon work to fuck other women during the day.

I haven’t. Ever. Work has always trumped pleasure, until now.

“You weren’t answering your phone.” Blythe gestures to where my phone is sitting on the table. I turned it off when I got to the bistro to avoid being interrupted. “I wouldn’t have hiked across town if it wasn’t an urgent matter.”

She looks to Linny and I can tell that she’s silently wondering if this conversation should be private.

I have no fucking idea if it should, so I ask.

“What is this about, Blythe?”

She nervously picks at a crumb on the tablecloth. “Trent.”

Linny pushes back from the table. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”

My plan all day was to spend the afternoon inside of her. That’s being shot to hell right now, apparently because Trent has fucked something up.

The temptation to fire him is reaching its breaking point.

I stand when Linny does. “Our meeting for this afternoon is still on.”

Her eyes meet mine. “Hear Blythe out and then we can discuss that.”

Goddammit. I don’t want anything to come between us today.

I drop back into my chair when Linny rounds the corner toward the restrooms. “Spit it out. What the hell is going on with Trent?”

She peers around the bistro before she turns back to me and lowers her voice. “Nothing. It’s not about Trent. It’s Athena. There’s been an accident.”