Never to Love (5 page)

Dammit, she had to go and play the ego card.

Maybe I’d get lucky and Thomas wouldn’t remember me.

Who was I trying to kid? My pussy and I were unforgettable.

“I hate you so much.” My lower lip jutted out like that of a pouty child, which is precisely how I felt. “How did he get involved with this to begin with, anyway?”

“Alissa, an old…friend…of his, works with kids who live in a group home in Indianapolis. She approached him with a business plan for a center to help homeless youth get back on their feet and make something of themselves. Grant funding is scarce these days and they needed help.”

“So, she’s after his money and yours by proxy?”

“It isn’t like that. She’s Madison’s friend. They worked together around the time Madison and Sawyer got together.”

Knowing exactly what kind of work Madison did to get by when she was first given temporary guardianship of her niece, Peyton, and trying to finish nursing school, I couldn’t hold back my groan. Thank God it was short-lived. The last thing I needed was for Marina’s sister-in-law to have the world’s oldest profession.

“Please tell me Thomas didn’t meet this ‘friend’ by paying her for ‘services rendered.’” As a general rule, I detest air-quotes, but that sentence didn’t give me a choice.

Marina’s silence confirmed my fear. “I can’t support you getting into bed with a prostitute, literally or figuratively. It was bad enough your brother did. Thank God that never hit the press.”

“Madison never hooked and you know it, and Alissa seems to be a wonderful person. It’s not like ‘sex worker’ is on her resume. Do you think the State would let her work with kids if they knew?”

“The paps can dig up anything. The second your name shows up on the same page as hers, her face will be on the cover of every rag in the checkout line, right next to yours and Tate’s, by the way. Within a week, there will be a rumor that the two of you paid her for a three-way.” My friend sat quietly, processing what I said. “Please tell me you didn’t hire her for a three-way.”

A decorative pillow smacking me in the head answered my ridiculous question.

“Who’s to say she’ll even want her name publicly tied to the center? You can discuss the risks with her, and she can make her own decision. As far as Tate and I are concerned, we have the best publicist in the world, and I know she can put a positive spin on anything that comes up. I also know she’d help Alissa if her name happened to be dragged through the mud.”

Damned ego stroking again. I needed to figure out how to become less awesome, or at least become less aware of it.

“Fine. I’ll meet with the asshole and his little girlfriend.”

“Be a good girl. Thomas may be a dick, but Madison says Alissa is a sweetheart.” Looking at me, my friend smirked. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”

“Ha! Good one.”

“So you’re saying I won’t see any relief when I tell you they aren’t involved in any way, she only works fully dressed these days, and she has what appears to be a serious boyfriend?”

The tension in my shoulders lessened slightly and Marina’s smirk grew. “Don’t get all cocky,” I said. “It’s a relief because it’ll make defending her in the press easier.”

“Whatever you say.”

Thomas

“How does next Wednesday sound?” I asked after putting the call on speakerphone, leaning back in my leather chair, and kicking my feet up on the desk. The rustling of papers that had filled my office from the caller on the other end of the line came to an abrupt halt.

“Really? I expected to wait at least a month or two before hearing back from you.” She sounded genuinely taken aback, which made me wonder how often she had been someone’s priority. Even if her boyfriend kisses the ground she walks on—he’d be stupid not to—that kind of reaction was the result of years of programming and wouldn’t be erased quickly.

Even though all of our “relations” had been less than legal, Lisa—Alissa—was special to me. In the years since my rules emerged from the rubble of Natalie’s destruction, Alissa was the only woman I’d broken them with. Although, one could argue the spirit of the rules hadn’t been violated due to the professional nature of our encounters.

Regardless of her job, I’d always had a feeling Alissa was a decent person. In my younger days, I’d obviously been a horrible judge of character; however, as a byproduct of my time with Natalie, my skills in that arena had vastly improved. I’d fucked my fair share of strippers over the years, as well as a small handful of escorts, but Alissa was different. Lisa—Alissa’s alter ego—fucked with a sense of determination as opposed to resignation, and might I say, Lisa was damned good at what she did.

At one point, I thought I wanted more than her body. If the notion hadn’t been fleeting, I would have sought psychiatric care for my acute, isolated case of dissociative identity disorder. That’s a real thing, right? There was no other possible explanation.

Thank God Alissa had the good sense to turn me down; although her rejection made me wonder if she was the one in need of a psychiatrist. No one in their right mind would pass up that opportunity. Almost no one, anyway. I refused to let myself think of the only other woman to send me packing.

“This is important to you, and I believe that it’s a very worthwhile project. Finn read the business plan and gave it his stamp of approval, which is better than getting a five-star review from the toughest industry critic. He’s like a savant when it comes to business and numbers.”

“That’s incredible.” The jostling on her end of the call led me to believe she was literally jumping up and down. My mind briefly wandered as it pictured the effects jumping would have on certain parts of her body.

“What are you wearing?” I had to ask. Who wouldn’t?

“Shut up,” she quipped. The smile on her face was abundantly evident in her voice. As she laughed with excitement, she continued as if I hadn’t interrupted her happy dance. “We worked really hard on it. Desiree is going to freak.”

“Finn wore a mild version of his red-pen face while he worked his spreadsheet voodoo.” I may or may not have sat in his office and watched him for a couple of hours, not that I’d been eager or anything. “Be prepared for a few suggestions.”

“We’d love his advice. I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

“So, Wednesday?” Her excitement was infectious; I found myself looking forward to seeing her again.

“Wednesday, yes. Name the time and place and we’ll be there.”

“I’ll have my assistant call you with the details and to make travel arrangements.”

“You’re the best, Thomas. I don’t know what I did to deserve your friendship, and I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am to have it.”

“I really am the best, aren’t I?” The answer was common knowledge. If she thought I was the best now, I couldn’t wait to hear how impressive she would find me when she discovered I’d gotten Marina Alexander and Tate Parker involved. Keeping the surprise a secret was harder than I imagined it would be. “Stephanie will call you soon.”

While saying our goodbyes, I put my feet on the floor and righted myself in my chair. As soon as I lifted and then lowered the receiver to hang up, my assistant saw the red light on her multi-line phone go dark. Before I could hit the button for the intercom, she spun in her chair and looked at me through the wall of glass separating us. I gave her a thumbs up, and she immediately got to work. We were almost always in sync, and in instances like this, I rarely had to give her much more than a nod or gesture. I had no doubt Alissa’s itinerary would be squared away within the hour.

Aside from contractors, Stephanie was our very first hire. Finn and I shared her in the beginning, but as the company grew, we hired a second administrative assistant. Being the selfish bastard that I am, I kept Stephanie for myself. Even though he was easy to work for, Finn had a hell of a time finding someone who would stick around more than a year, and that’s how she-who-shall-not-be-named came into our lives. If I had seen the apocalypse coming, I would’ve let Finn have Steph.

*

Before owning a business, I thought things like pre-meeting meetings only happened in comic strips. I’d been painfully wrong. Yesterday, I had a pre-pre-meeting meeting with Finn, and the actual pre-meeting meeting was scheduled to begin in about fifteen minutes. When approached this morning, I actively refused to meet with Finn and Chad, our marketing director, about the subject. The nomenclature alone would’ve been enough to give me a migraine. If I had met with them today, would that have made yesterday’s meeting with Finn a pre-pre-pre-meeting meeting, or a pre-pre-meeting-meeting meeting, or a pre-pre-pre-meeting-meeting meeting, or something else entirely? After the main event concluded in a few days, the slate would be wiped clean, and I’d be able to schedule again without the excruciating brain twister.

Finn and about half of the team we’d put together had already taken their places by the time I walked into the conference room. As usual, I took the seat next to my brother and chatted with him while we waited for the rest of the group to trickle in.

“We need to find a new interim director of IT,” Finn told me under his breath. “I just got off the phone with Dawn over at Robert van Nickle Consulting. Apparently, a disgruntled former client bludgeoned Carina to death with the neck of a wine bottle.”

As a general rule, I hated thinking ill of the dead, but this time, I had no trouble making an exception. The woman creeped me the fuck out. I swear to God she was the love child of Gollum and the Crypt Keeper.

“Yikes,” I replied instead of laughing.

“We’ll talk more about it later,” he said as who I incorrectly assumed was the last person took their seat.

Glancing around the table, the empty chair across from me indicated we were one short. With less than a minute to spare, a woman, who could only have been the representative for our celebrity partners, strutted in as if we should be honored by her presence. I didn’t have a chance to roll my eyes at her, though. As with the temporary bout of dissociative identity disorder I’d experienced with Alissa, I now found myself afflicted with an acute, isolated hallucination.

Julianne Griffith hadn’t looked my way yet, but her thick red hair, luscious curves, and similar name immediately pitched a tent in my pants. I know people sometimes see what they want to see and not what was actually there, but this was insane. With no prior personal experience, I had no fucking clue how powerful the mind’s eye could be until a pair of green eyes, which still hadn’t looked my way, had my dick trying to climb out of my pants and into the woman taking the seat across from me. The woman looked exactly like the best fuck of my life—even better than Alissa.

Even though there was no way this woman could have been that woman, Marina and Tate’s rep immediately jumped to the number one spot on my to-do list. With her, it wouldn’t be the least bit difficult to pretend I was with my Juli again. I wouldn’t even have to worry about calling out the wrong name—not that I cared. I just really hoped she didn’t turn out to be fugly when the hallucination faded.

Wait a minute. Did I really just think of a woman I fucked a couple of years ago as
my
Juli? Fuck, I needed to get laid. Stat.

“Now that we’re all here,” Finn said, calling the meeting to order, “let’s begin by reviewing the cost analysis I’ve prepared.” My brother was usually fairly laid back, but once he put on a tie and sat at the head of the table, he was all business.

“Ramsay Enterprises has allocated a donation equal to the fixed start-up expenses outlined in the business plan for the flagship center in Indianapolis, which are summarized on page six. Additional funding requests will be evaluated and approved on a case-by-case basis.”

“For obvious reasons, we ask for a mention of our donation in media releases,” Chad added. “It doesn’t have to be more than a brief mention or a small, strategically placed logo.” What he really meant was he wanted our name out there but didn’t want us looking like assholes.

Chad had unwittingly given me the perfect segue. “Julianne, I was told you’d be overseeing publicity for the project,” I said, trying to catch the eye of the redhead sitting across from me.

“That’s right,” she mumbled. Focusing her attention on Chad, she said, “I’d like for you to concentrate on brand identity and the design aspects of print media. I’ll handle things such as public image, editorial content, and digital and social media.”

As she spoke, she’d lost track of her volume level, revealing the actual tone of her voice. There was no fucking way…was there?

In what must have been a reflex, her head snapped slightly to the left, causing her to face forward, and she looked directly at me for the first time. Her eyes widened but not in surprise—more like she realized she’d made a mistake.

Recovering quickly, she went on to discuss the contributions of her clients in depth. Leaving the job of paying attention to the content of her words to the rest of the room, I had no choice but to focus on the sound of her voice and movement of the lips I thought I’d never see again.