He's So Bad (7 page)

“Carter, could you stay for a few minutes?” Robert asked.

She turned around. April and Celia were giving her that repellent gaze that she was used to receiving from them. The expression said, “I wish I never had to see you again.”

“Sure,” Carter said and sat in the nearest chair. She opened her folder and pretended to study the blueprint on top.

“So, Robert, are you single?” April asked.

He tossed his head back and chuckled. “I don’t date clients.”

“Well, how about you take me to dinner to discuss the healing pool?”

Carter caught the glance Robert shot her. She wondered what it meant. Maybe he was nervous and thought it was her job to keep her client on a leash.

Carter raised her hand. “Listen, I’ll sit down with you any time to talk healing pools. I’ve helped clients choose and install them before.”

April gave Carter that same expression.

Robert smiled. “Well, there you have it.” He put his hand on Celia’s back and guided them to the door. “Thank you so much for making the trip to meet with us. Zoe?”

Zoe was still standing outside the door. “This way, ladies,” she said with a mega smile.

April and Celia gazed at Robert as they followed Zoe. As soon as they were all of the way out of the room, Robert closed the door. Carter gulped, and anxiety seized her. She saw him walking as if he were moving in slow motion. He sat beside her and looked her right in the eyes.

I
haven’t
a clue of what to say. Carter is no longer the quiet little girl who studied everything around her. She’s a fully formed woman, and oddly enough, I want to get to know her.

“Thank you for sticking up for me,” she says, watching me with wide eyes.

She looks so vulnerable. I want to kiss her. “It was a no-brainer, although I’m going to call the contractors and ask if they can get it done in the next three days. I want those chicks out of your hair. They got the best architect for the lowest price. That won’t happen again.”

They were jealous of Carter, that was for sure. She’s hotter and smarter. I’ve said no to those loopy hippie chicks all my life. They think they’re different from women like Vince’s sisters and Emily Callahan, but other than their grimy unwashed yoga wear and see-through shirts with no bra, they’re pretty much cut from the same cloth.

Carter raised an eyebrow. “So you really meant that B.S. about me being the best architect on staff?”

“Hell yeah!” I say, grinning Zoe style.

“What about Brent?”

“He’s good, but you’re better.”

Carter studies me as if she’s trying to gauge whether or not I’m being truthful. The fact that I’m picturing her naked on top of the conference room table with my face between her legs makes me question my own sincerity. I look away from her face to banish the salacious thought.

“Well, thanks,” she says.

“You’re welcome. Hey, do you have lunch plans?” I ask.

She tilts her head. “No. Why?”

“I was thinking we could, you know, have lunch and talk.”

“Talk about what?” she says nervously.

“I want to talk about today and your future with this company.” I didn’t pull those topics out of my ass. Before learning Carter’s true identity, I had planned to sit down with her to discuss future projects.

“Well, okay then,” Carter says.

I’m relieved. “Okay then.”

I
drive
, and Carter rides shotgun. There are a lot of cars on the road during the lunch hour, but I plan to drive into the city and try a restaurant there. My passenger has been quiet, but she’s been rubbing her fingers together nonstop. She’s nervous. Probably because she still thinks I don’t remember her.

“So,” I say. “You’ve changed your hair, and you’re all grown up.”

I’m stopped behind a parade of cars. I turn to face her opened-mouth gaze.

“You remember?” she asks.

“I spoke to Allie.”

She turns her whole body in my direction. “When?”

“Before the meeting.”

She sighs as if she’s finally releasing the tension in her body. As we roll along, we talk about summer vacations in East Hampton. Carter and I laugh about how Vince and I used to pick up college girls when we were fifteen.

“I didn’t think you were paying attention,” I say.

Carter drops her face bashfully. “I was paying attention.” Her face has turned red, and she’s fiddling with her fingers again.

“Oh yeah?” I’m intrigued.

“I, um, I…”

I slam on my brakes to avoid running a light and shoot one arm out across the passenger seat to make sure Carter doesn’t slam into the window.

“Sorry about that,” I say as I check the car behind me. Good thing he maintained some distance. “You were saying?”

“Nothing, um, where are you going?”

“Downtown. There’s a restaurant across from my hotel.”

“It’s going to be hell trying to make it downtown. Why don’t we just go to Yao Fun?” she asks.

“Nice name. Where is it?”

“It’s in the Richmond neighborhood on Balboa. It’s only about fifteen blocks that way.” She points west.

“How can I turn down Yao Fun?” I say, sort of mocking the name.

She laughs, and I make a sharp right onto Balboa. Carter seems more comfortable in my presence now, and I like it, a lot. I get lucky and find a parking spot in front of the corner restaurant. The restaurant is so small that if you blink, you’ll miss it. Before we walk in, a small man opens the door and speaks to Carter in Chinese. She replies in Chinese. I raise my eyebrows, surprised and impressed.

We’re seated near the window and given menus. It’s all written in Chinese.

“Just tell me what you like, and I’ll order it for you,” she says.

I crack a smile. “Are you going to give me a reading?”

“I could, but I’m sure you’ve eaten at plenty of Chinese restaurants.”

I shrug. “Sure, I have.”

She leans against the wall with a cool kind of manner and picks up her chopsticks. “They have everything here. Mr. Ping will make anything you ask for. He’s like the Genie.”

It’s so hard to believe that this sexy, deep woman is the same girl whose name I could never remember. I would’ve never thought Vince’s cousin would turn out to be the person seated across from me.

“Right. Although it would be kind of fun to have you give me a reading. It’ll be like a poetry reading.” I flex my eyebrows.

Carter picks up the menu and reads it in Chinese. “And now the interpretation,” she says playfully. She reads the same block in English.

“And you continue to impress me,” I say. “So how did you learn Chinese?”

“When I was in high school, my father suggested that I learn two languages—Mandarin and Spanish. My dad was always pretty smart, so I followed his advice.”

“Goodness, I’m so damn impressed by you.”

She looks at me like a deer trapped in headlights. I’m worried that I’ve overstepped my boundaries. I have enough experience with women to know that a few more good lines, smirks, and the right kind of eye contact would land her in my bed. I want her, but that doesn’t mean a goddamn thing. I wanted every single woman I fucked and forgot. I’m not convinced that I wouldn’t do to Carter the same thing that I did to all the rest, so I take the twinkle out of my eyes and sit back in my seat.

The waiter comes to take our order.

“Ladies first,” I say.

She orders in Chinese. She tells me she ordered two tea services. “Water?”

I nod. “Sure.” I see that she has a modest demeanor, but deep down, she likes to be in control. “And I’ll have the Peking duck with rice noodles sprinkled with sesame oil and ginger.”

She smirks as if she’s impressed then relays my order. They go back and forth. The waiter looks at me as if I made the mistake of diverting from the vast list of items that they serve. Carter says something else.

The waiter says, “Okay.”

“Okay,” she says.

He takes our menus.

“Did I just see a battle?” I ask.

She laughs and measures with her thumb and forefinger. “A small one.”

I’m pretty aware that I’m staring. Her face has such pretty bone structure, and her eyes are pure blue. I snap out of it. “So you’re from Denver, right?”

“No. My cousins are from Denver. I grew up in Pasadena.”

I’m taken aback. “Your family used to travel to Sag Harbor all the way from Pasadena every summer?”

Carter grunts cynically. “I used to ask that same question every year, at least until you showed up.” She quickly looks away as if she’s said too much.

I’m not sure how I should respond. The damn complications are in the way. “Sag Harbor was a sweet getaway.”

She smiles and nods, although I can see the turning thoughts behind her eyes.

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

“I’m thinking that you never noticed me back then, and that’s why you needed Allie to enlighten you today.” She sounds disappointed.

“I noticed you.” I’m not lying—I did notice her.

She snickers. “Yeah, you would mess up my hair and call me by the wrong name.”

“I thought you were cute—young but cute.”

“You’re not that much older than I am.”

We turn toward the waiter, who arrives with the food. Carter has ordered a feast. One by one, he puts down the dishes. I count them as they hit the table. Carter reads my expression and chuckles.

“Is this a joke?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “No. I’m starving, aren’t you?”

I grin like I never have. I can’t figure Carter out, but I like how she just made me feel. “I am now.”

Carter flexes her eyebrows and pulls her chopsticks apart. “Then dig in.”

I pull apart my chopsticks. I follow Carter’s lead and eat from whichever plate I choose.

“As your boss, I’m not allowed to ask your age, but if you want to share that information, then I’m ready to hear it.”

Carter puts a helping of sautéed seaweed into her mouth. She narrows her eyes as she chews and swallows. “I don’t want to tell you.”

I flinch. “Why not?”

“Because you’re an ageist.”

“What?” I ask, intrigued.

“You always liked older women. I see you looking at Grace’s ass. She’s thirty-five, just so you know.”

I’m trying to remember a time when I focused on Grace’s barely existent ass. “You’re seeing things. I’ve never noticed Grace’s ass.”

Carter shrugs. “Anyway, how old do you think I am?”

I study her pretty face. “Twenty-five.”

She grunts.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Probably. Probably not.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being twenty-five,” I say to make her feel better about revealing her age.

She shrugs.

“Young and fluent in Chinese and Spanish? I say that you’re the one who’s winning.” I smile.

“Me? You’re the one who’s phenomenal. Look at you. You’re a billionaire! I knew that one day you were going to be something.”

There I go grinning again. I fight the urge to downplay my role in A&Rt Media’s success. I would’ve been comfortable doing it, but I recently realized that I’m the one who stayed on top of our finances. I read the books and asked Gabe to make the appropriate changes. I might have been deficient in the media aspect of the business, but in the financial growth aspect, I was spot on.

“Wow. Thanks,” I say.

She shrugs. “So about the real reason why we’re here.”

I realize that was a question. The real reason is that I wanted to spend some time out of the office with her. “Yes. Work.”

“Of course work. Robert Tango didn’t want to play with me then; why would he play with me now?” she says with a smile.

A multitude of images of Carter and I playing with each other now shuffle through my thoughts. Suddenly, I realize that I’ve been staring at her for far too long. My mouth is watering, and my dick is firm.

I tilt my head inquisitively. “Did you have a crush on me back then?”

Her face turns red, and she helps herself to a serving of what looks and smells like ginger shrimp. “Did you know I had a crush on you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

She takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to tell you this story because it weighs on me whenever your name is spoken.”

I try to focus on what she’s saying as she recalls a memory of me and a girl I met at the ice cream shop. I took her back to the “love shack,” which was the guesthouse at the back end of Vince’s family’s summer estate. She says the girl drove me back to the guesthouse in a Volkswagen and that I fucked her.

“I was looking through the window.” She rolls her eyes in shame. “Like a peeping Tammy.”

I laugh. “A peeping Tammy?”

“The female version of Peeping Tom.”

“So you’re apologizing for watching me fuck some girl? How long did it take for me to make it to the end?” I wink at her.

“You can’t remember?”

“I remember fucking like a fifteen-year-old kid. I never lasted that long.”

She stares at me as if a lot of thoughts are floating through her head. She chuckles. “Well, you didn’t.”

“Last that long?”

“Right.”

I’ve never laughed this hard in my life.

She shrugs squeamishly. “Oh, and I’m sorry for peeping.”

“Apology not necessary. I brought a boatload of girls back to the house and fucked them.” I wish I could say that I’d done it because I was young and stupid, but I haven’t really shed that behavior. I imagine that if the opportunity to purchase a failing architecture firm hadn’t presented itself, then I would be philandering through Europe, fucking, drinking, and getting high until I suffered a heart attack and died. Basically, I would be in the final stretch of the path to self-destruction. “Not saying it was right, but I did it.”

She looks at me with narrowed eyes. “Are you judging yourself, Robert Tango?”

I sit back. What a hefty question. “Yes, I am, and it’s about time.”

“That never solves anything, you know,” she says.

“No?”

“You can’t go back and change the past. Plus no one should judge anyone, and we sure as hell shouldn’t judge ourselves.”

“Oh no? So what do you recommend?” I ask.

“Self-reflection and revision.”