Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
M ichael paced up and down his living room floor, his phone pressed to his ear. “Come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath. “Answer the damn phone. Answer the damn?—”
“Hello.”
Relief swept through him like a tidal wave. “ Reese? I’ve been trying to reach you since last night! What the hell are you doing in Houston?”
“I came home for the weekend.” She paused. “I guess Drew’s assistant told you.”
“She did,” he snapped. “But why the hell did I have to hear it from her instead of you? ”
“Don’t worry,” she said coolly. “I’ll be back on Wednesday to tape the grand finale.”
“I don’t give a shit about the show!” Michael shouted.
“Really? You were singing a different tune yesterday.”
“What’re you talking about?”
Reese sighed. “I overheard the comment you made to Drew before our meeting.”
“What com—” Suddenly Michael froze, the words echoing through his mind like a cruel indictment. She’s a ratings magnet. How could I not be crazy about her?
He’d regretted the careless remark as soon as the words left his mouth. It was a stupid thing to have said, and so far from the truth it was laughable. Except he wasn’t laughing now.
And neither, apparently, was Reese.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” he told her. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Actually, I think you did.” She sounded so calm. Resigned. “I think what you told Drew was more honest than anything you’ve ever told me.”
“ What? How can you say that? How can you believe that?”
“The question is, how could I have ever believed otherwise?”
Dread coiled in Michael’s gut. “Reese, listen to me. I?—”
“I’m not angry, Michael,” she interrupted in that mild, implacable tone. “Deep down inside, I’ve always known that our relationship was too good to be true. It’s time for me to stop chasing a fantasy and get back to reality.”
He scowled. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I’m returning to Houston after Wednesday’s final taping. Layla’s funding got cut, so she’ll be home early next week. There’s no reason for me to stay in Atlanta.”
“What about me?” Michael growled, desperation mingling with anger. “What about us?”
“There is no us.”
The quiet finality in her voice ripped his heart in half. “Reese, don’t?—”
“I’ll see you on Wednesday. Goodbye, Michael.”
Uh-oh , Sterling thought, observing his firstborn across the poker table . There’s trouble in paradise .
He knew something was wrong when Michael arrived at the house tonight minus Reese, with whom he’d been attached at the hip for the past two weeks. After muttering a vague explanation about her whereabouts, he’d challenged—there was no other word for it—Sterling and Marcus to a poker match. But it quickly became evident that his heart wasn’t in it. He’d grunted through the first game, stared off into space and repeatedly checked his phone, as if he couldn’t believe it hadn’t rung once.
Something bad must’ve happened between him and Reese, but he clearly didn’t want to talk about it.
After he’d glanced at his phone for the millionth time, Marcus said impatiently, “Why don’t you just call her and get it over with? ”
“Mind your damn business,” Michael grumbled. “Whose turn is it?”
“Yours,” Sterling and Marcus snapped.
Frizell, who’d ventured bravely into the den to watch them play, spoke from the window, “Mr. Wolf?”
“Yes?” three voices barked.
Sterling glowered at his sons. “She was talking to me . What is it, Frizell?”
“Are you expecting company?”
“No.” Sterling was still recovering from the departure of his last houseguests. Or rather, from Asha’s departure. He hadn’t heard a peep from her since she’d returned to New York. Just as he’d expected.
“There’s a limo coming down the driveway,” Frizell told him.
Suddenly Sterling’s nerves tightened and his pulse thudded. It can’t be .
He threw down his cards and rushed from the room. Moments later, he flung open the front door just as a pair of long, shapely legs emerged from the backseat of a white limousine.
He gaped, convinced that his eyes were deceiving him. “Asha?”
A soft smile curved her lips as she took him in. “Hello, Sterling.”
Gazes locked, they started toward each other. When they stood face to face, Sterling asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t stay away,” Asha confessed.
Sterling’s heart lurched. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I missed you. I tried to throw myself back into work, but all I could think about was this house, our children, our grandsons. You . I missed being here with you, Sterling. So I did the only thing that made sense. I walked out in the middle of an important meeting and ordered my pilot to fuel the jet.” She smiled, tears misting her eyes. “I couldn’t get here fast enough.”
Sterling pulled her into a fervent embrace and kissed her as if his very life depended on it. She clung to him, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. His heart soared.
Lifting his head, he gazed into her eyes. “I love you. I don’t know when it happened, but I’m so glad it did.”
“Oh, Sterling.” Asha curved her hand against his cheek. “I’ve been in love with you since the day the twins were born.”
Stunned, he stared at her. “ You have ?”
She nodded. “The way you held them in your arms and kissed their tiny foreheads while tears rolled down your face. Watching you, I was a goner. I’ve been trying to outrun my feelings ever since, but I can’t do it anymore. I love you, and I want to be with you.”
Sterling turned his face into her palm and kissed it. “What about New York?”
“I’ll keep my headquarters in Manhattan and open another office in Buckhead, near the boutique.”
He smiled at her decisive tone. “A woman who knows what she wants.”
Asha held his gaze. “You’d better believe it.”
Overcome with emotion, Sterling grabbed her hand and strode toward the house, where Michael and Marcus stood on the front steps gaping at them in disbelief.
“Help the driver carry Asha’s luggage up to my room,” Sterling told them gruffly.
“Yes, sir,” Marcus said.
Amused, Michael drawled, “And where are you lovebirds headed?”
Sterling and Asha shared a smile. “The guesthouse.”