35. Connor
35
CONNOR
W aking up alone, I go in search of the woman I can’t stop thinking about. I feel groggy. The few days I’ve had here at the office in New York have been some of my most productive. I’ve had back-to-back meetings, negotiated some new deals, and signed off on some new crops for our barley production. But that, coupled with late nights making love to Daisy numerous times, has me feeling exhausted. She’s been working hard too. She had a few meetings as well, has been reviewing staff protocols, making new tea elixirs with her mom, and deciding on a few new ones that I think she’ll want to bring to the spa. Her tea business is a big passion of hers, as is the yoga—more so than the spa side of things—but her business mind is really where she thrives, and I’ve been trying to think of things she can explore for her future. Ones that she can do from Whispers, because I really want her to stay with me. Not that she has to work. I would take care of her, but I know if I suggested such a thing, she would probably concoct a death elixir. One sip, and I’d be gone.
“Good morning,” she says as I spot her in my kitchen, showered and changed, a cup of tea in one hand and a glass of green juice in the other. I walk toward her, the stupid grin on my face at seeing her in my space not able to be wiped away, as she stretches out her hands to me.
“What’s this?” I groan, looking at what she’s offering me, feeling my body aching from all the exercise we did last night, the night before, and the night before that. I can’t get enough of her. Not that I’m complaining. I love how Daisy is so into it; her confidence with me is building every day, startlingly different to that woman I first met at Sunshine who couldn’t look at me naked. Now, she can’t keep her hands off me.
“It’s a hot mixture of ginseng and echinacea that will help with both energy and immunity. The green juice is mainly celery and packed full of antioxidants. We’ve had a big few days, and I thought you might need it.” She puts them on the kitchen counter next to me.
“Let me jump into the shower, and then I’ll be ready to go,” I tell her, because I obviously slept in, something I never do.
“You don’t have to come. I can just meet you at the airport later,” she offers, but I’m already shaking my head and throwing back the juice, which makes me almost gag, enlisting a giggle from her.
“You don’t want me to go with you?” I ask. As I stand totally naked, she looks amazing in some jeans and a shirt.
“No, I mean, Trisha’s and my apartment isn’t…” Glancing around my penthouse, she waves her hand a little as I watch her and take a sip of the tea. It isn’t terrible and a bit easier to consume than the green shit. Maybe I’m getting used to all these hot tonics she gives me.
“Daisy, I don’t care what your apartment is like. But we only have this morning before we need to be on the jet, so we can call on Trisha, and then head straight to the airport together.”
“Sure, just… you know, keep an open mind.”
I grin. “I have a very open mind. In fact, I’m open to anything…” I say, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her to me.
“Connor! Go, or we will be late.” She laughs and swats at my shoulder playfully, my clear attempt at seduction falling on deaf ears. But I’m still smiling as I take my tea and head to the shower, making it a quick and very cold one.
* * *
My driver pulls up to a laundromat on a side of town I’ve never been to. It isn’t bad… but it isn’t great either. My lips thin as I look around. My security team got back to me overnight, finding nothing amiss with Soren other than he hasn’t filed taxes in forever and he doesn’t seem to have a permanent place of residence. But I know how people in that lifestyle live off-grid, and his taxes are not my problem. So for the moment, he is clean.
“We’re here!” she says, opening the door and stepping out, and I follow her quickly, the sidewalk busy. I look up and down the street, seeing a mix of retail and food shops, many of which have seen better days. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Grabbing my hand, I look at my driver, who gives me a nod. He’ll wait here, just in case. I look around once more, seeing a few motorbikes pull up opposite us on the other side of the road, and clench my jaw. The paparazzi are following us. I shouldn’t be surprised. I haven’t seen any articles yet. But I know they have images. I have briefed my PR team, and they’re aware that something is coming.
Daisy drags me across the sidewalk, and we walk into a twenty-four seven dry cleaners.
“Hey, Daisy! Where have you been?” an older woman, who appears to be too old to even be working, says in a heavy French accent. I watch her carefully. Her eyes seem deceptive as she moves her gaze to me, clearly interested in who I am. I wonder if this dry cleaners is a front for a mafia mob or something. I make a mental note to ask Daisy about it later.
“Hey, Anna, just out of town for a few. Back again soon, though,” Daisy says as she continues pulling me down a side hallway.
We hit a back door and open it, and I notice the lock is broken before I close it behind me. As we walk up a few flights of stairs, I’m grateful for the cardio I do; otherwise, it would be a challenge.
“We’re here.” She sounds a little puffed, and I see her swallow down some nerves before she opens the door and we step inside.
As we walk in, the first thing I do is duck. The ceilings seem lower than usual. Although, I do have high ceilings everywhere I am, the office fit-out was done purposefully for that. My penthouse and everything we have in Whispers is the same.
“Hey, Trisha,” she says, and I spot a woman sitting on the sofa, eating a tub of ice cream, even though it’s the morning, and she sits up quickly. She smiles at Daisy, then looks at me, her mouth dropping open.
“Holy hell, it's big dick guy!”
My eyebrows hit my hairline, and Daisy splutters a cough before going a cute shade of pink.
“Sorry, she didn’t mean that.” Daisy covers for her, and I smirk.
“It’s good to know I please you, baby girl,” I whisper to her, grinning like a fool, thinking about Daisy talking about me to her friends.
She blushes some more, her hand slapping my chest, and I grab it, holding it in mine. “Come, let’s sit. Trisha, this is Connor. Connor, this is Trisha.” Daisy makes the introductions, and Trisha waves her spoon at me. I give her a nod as I follow Daisy into her apartment.
We can barely fit on the extremely small sofa, and as the girls catch up, I take in her space. The building is old. Maybe pre-war, but it has had some renovations done at some point, because the ceiling is really low and the rooms are small. Almost like they took one large apartment and cut it into two. The window frames are chipped, a big crack running up the corner of the wall beside me, and I wonder if it’s structurally sound. I turn to look at the other side, noticing the kitchen is almost nonexistent and doesn’t look like it gets a lot of use.
“What’s with the ice cream?” Daisy asks her.
“I’m eating my feelings,” Trisha says. “I found Josh kissing another woman last night.” She scoops out another big bite of ice cream.
“Really? What happened?” Daisy asks. I still have hold of her hand, keeping her close.
“We went to this restaurant. It was new, pretty fancy. Had a great meal, and then he excused himself to use the restroom. When he didn’t come back for a while, I went looking for him and found him sucking face with some girl behind the wine racks.”
I feel bad for her. Clearly, he isn’t the kind of guy you want around.
“Oh no!” Daisy says, her expression pinched.
“Can you believe I thought he was marriage material!”
“I’m sorry, Trisha. Not all men are like that. How long were you together?” I ask. She’s Daisy’s friend, so I want to make an effort and get to know her. She’s heartbroken and almost married this guy, so they must have been together for a long time.
“Two weeks. Two weeks, and he just got up and sucked face with someone else.” She huffs, and I look at Daisy like she’s crazy. She gives me a close-lipped smile and a small nod, and I know she’ll fill me in on the smaller details later.
“When are you coming home?” Trisha asks her, and my body stills. Never.
“Well, I still have another week or two in Whispers, but then I’ll be back and can help you find your next Mr. Right.” She smiles at Trisha, and my stomach twists. I want her to stay in Whispers, and while we haven’t talked about it, I didn’t realize she was so committed to coming back to the city.
“I’ve missed you,” Trisha says, and I frown, because “missed you” is too light a saying for the feelings I’ll have if Daisy moves back here. I start thinking about how I can work from my New York office more so I can still see her, the pain in my gut intensifying, because I know I’m also needed in Whispers a lot, at the distillery, the home of my business. My entire life.
“I’ve missed you too. Here, I’ve put next month's rent in here, plus extra for bills,” Daisy says, handing Trisha a yellow envelope that I’m now assuming contains cash, and I try to swallow, this whole thing leaving a very bitter taste in my mouth.
“But you aren’t even here!” Trisha says, even though she takes Daisy’s money.
“I know, but a bit extra to help.”
I take in some air to try to tame my feelings. I’m not sure what their annual rental fees are, but I would happily pay them. I look at Trisha, and she looks at me.
“You’re my waitress in my suite, aren’t you?” I ask her.
“Yes. I’m working this weekend. Will you be there?” she asks innocently.
“No, I’ve given it to my friend, Huxley, but he’s great and won't give you any trouble,” I tell her, knowing that some suites and corporate spaces can contain some real arrogant assholes.
“Good. Is he single?” she asks quickly, her face full of hope, and I realize that she’s one of those girls who’s in love with the thought of being in love. I give her a grin.
“No, very happily married,” I confirm.
“All the good ones are,” she mumbles, and Daisy looks at me in a way that makes me think she feels the same about me as I do her. I squeeze her hand in mine, and she does it back.
All the while, my stomach rolls, and my head is busy, trying to think of how to keep her in Whispers.
How to keep her with me.