Chapter 26
I go directly to the boardroom on the eighteenth floor. It’s where we’re scheduled to meet with the CEO of Ashton Holdings.
On the way, I closed the divider between the driver and myself and left three more messages for Lucky.
The little minx still won’t answer me.
Which pisses me off.
I’m completely, desperately, head over heels in love with her. She’s the one I want and I won’t take no for a fucking answer.
How did this happen?
It’s like I stepped onto a roller coaster on Friday night and completely lost control. I’m on a ride I can’t get off of. I’m so besotted I feel like a completely different person, one who cares about nothing except finding her, keeping her and loving her with every fucking thing I have.
Where the fuck is she? And why won’t she answer me?
Colton and Cash are waiting for me.
I walk in and they both stop what they’re doing to stare at me alertly.
Both of them smirk and Colton launches straight into it. “Wow.”
“Wow what.” I’m in a terrible mood. I put my briefcase on the table and open it.
“Since no one’s heard from you since Friday night and since you look like…”
“Like what?” I grumble.
“Like your dry spell has finally been thoroughly quenched?—”
“How the fuck would you know either way.” It’s more of a dismissive hiss than a question.
Colton is barely able to disguise his glee. “There are clues.”
“Like what?”
“Your eyes are bloodshot and your hair’s messed up.”
I impatiently smooth it into place.
“And your tie isn’t tied.”
I look down. “Shit.” I’ve been so distracted I forgot to tie it, but I do it now.
“I’m guessing the date with Ms. Irish went well.” More smirking.
I have a bizarre urge to punch my brother in the face. He’s joking, bantering like he always does. But her name has become sacred to me. It’s fucking mine.
I glare at him with my fists clenched.
Colton laughs and holds up his palms. “Dude. Okay. Chill.”
“What happened?” Cash asks.
I don’t answer. Trying to explain what happened would be like trying to explain the Theory of Relativity to a three-year-old. But, actually, all three of my brothers probably have a clue as to how I’m feeling right about now. Because they’ve all been through it.
“You can’t just give us zero details,” Colton protests. “We’re invested.”
I debate downplaying it, finally settling on, “It went well.”
Colton’s eyebrows lift. “How well?”
“ Very well.”
“Hallelujah, he finally got laid,” Colton rejoices.
I take a step toward him and he darts around the table, dodging me. “I’m happy for you, bro. And you’re welcome, for your favorite brother’s intervention.”
“Don’t force me to rearrange your face, Colton.”
“I’m surprised your mood hasn’t improved,” he laughs. “Did she look as good as her photo?”
A vision of her on the bed, her flaxen hair cascading in waves over the pillow, her eyes so blue and her pink mouth swollen from my greedy kisses, takes over my entire brain. “She looked so much better than that.”
My brothers exchange a look at the naked longing in my voice.
“She must be something special if you spent the whole weekend with her,” Cash says.
“She is.” She really, really is. And now I don’t know where she is and I don’t even know her real name. How the fuck did I let that happen?
“No wonder you don’t want to be here,” Colton grins. “I bet she’s waiting for you at your apartment right now.”
“If she was, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
Colton laughs knowingly. I throw a pen at his head, which he catches. He’s well practiced at this point.
“Can you stop being a complete ass for one minute, Cole? Seriously.”
“Unfortunately, he can’t,” Cash answers for him. “It’s not in his nature.”
The comment doesn’t even land on Colton. “When are you seeing her again?”
“Soon.”
Fucking Colton pounces abruptly on my lack of specifics. “You haven’t made any plans?”
I rake a hand through my hair.
Which Colton reads correctly as third degree angst. Unfortunately for me, my brothers know me very well. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get her real name.”
Cash groans. “Oh, fuck. You idiot.” The same thing happened to him, when he met Dusty.
They met at a beach bar in Hawaii, gave each other nicknames, had the best night of their lives together but when he woke up the next morning she was gone.
He spent months looking for her before she turned up as our newest junior analyst—which in his case, turned out to be the luckiest coincidence of his life.
“I thought you would have learned from my mistake.”
“I should have,” I admit. “I didn’t think she’d leave without saying goodbye this morning.” My fucking brothers always get the information out of me, whether I want them to or not. “I’ve got her number though.”
“Then call her.” Colton gives me a duh look.
“I have. Several times. She’s not picking up. She has a busy day at work ahead of her. She’s probably in a meeting.”
“If you need to track her down,” Colton says, “get Jake in IT to trace her phone location.”
“Don’t you have a million girls lighting up your phone incessantly?” Cash takes a seat at the head of the table. “I’m sure she’ll answer.”
A few days ago I might have appreciated the observation. Right now it only makes things worse. I don’t want them. I want her. And why isn’t she answering my calls?
Cash starts leafing through some paperwork.
“Noah, you were obviously busy over the weekend, but I tried to call you a dozen times, to brief you on the meeting this morning. The CEO of Ashton Holdings will be here any minute. Her name is L. Emerson Ashton. You’ll just have to wing it.
But you’ve done all the homework so it should be fairly straightforward. ”
“Her?” Colton helps himself to a donut from the buffet table that’s been laid out.
Some little inkling of a sixth sense tweaks somewhere behind my brain.
She works in finance.
She has a high-powered job.
Her father had a lot of heavy expectations.
He recently died.
But L. Emerson Ashton doesn’t ring any bells beyond the Ashton Holdings’ spreadsheets. Unless…
Surely not.
“Yes.” Cash confirms. “L. Emerson is a woman. I spoke to her last week. She sounded young. She wasn’t happy with the number I gave her. She said Abundance had also made an offer.”
I walk over and grab a coffee cup. “A much lower one, I have no doubt. There’s no way they offered more than fifteen.
Probably more like ten. If anything, we should go lower.
We’re not fucking budging on fifteen. There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that company is worth even close to that much. Not at the moment, at least.”
I’m pouring myself a cup of coffee, my back to the door as I rant.
Cash says something.
That’s when I hear another voice. A voice I’d know anywhere. The sweetest voice in the world. “Hi, I’m Lucky Ashton.”
What?
I turn.
Holy fuck.
She’s wearing a little black dress. Her hair is smoothed back and clipped on the sides, but the flaxen curls are as wild as ever, spilling over her shoulders.
She’s achingly, devastatingly gorgeous.
I love her.
L. Emerson Ashton is my Lucky Irish.