CHAPTER THIRTEEN

COLT

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I fume as I sit through the dinner, and apparently I’m not hiding it as well as I thought.

“Is the salmon not to your liking?” Todd asks.

I gave in and agreed to meet with Todd Baker. He wants an answer and thinks buying me dinner at Eleven Madison Park will coerce me into signing.

I am ninety-nine percent sure I’ll do The Final Rose, Manhattan, but something is holding me back.

Right now, I have my mind torn between the renovations happening at the club and my little gardener who has stopped taking my calls... after coming around her fingers at my demand.

Then Riley fucking hung up.

Don’t ask me how many times I’ve ordered my jet to be fueled, then canceled it.

Three.

It’s been a week, and the longer she keeps gaslighting me, the angrier I am getting.

The more frustrated.

I don’t like not being in control...and I don’t like not hearing her voice.

Still, Todd’s team has asked for information from me, and I’ve provided it. Shirt and pant size—and everything in between—so it’s not wrong of them to assume I only need a slight nudge and then I’m on board.

“No, I have things on my mind.” I push the plate aside. I have never, and I mean never, had a woman affect me like this.

I don’t like it.

I don’t fucking like it at all.

The Venture Vault show has aired on the global streaming platform, and my social media has lit up even more. Some forgiving me, others angry with the way I responded to Jane.

Daniella is a hero for funding the Wee Wee, and she sent me a bouquet of black roses in commiseration of the public’s response.

Funny girl.

I’m still not fucking her again.

But nothing from Riley.

The desire to fly across the world and wring her pretty little neck is almost suffocating me.

A few days ago, we had the suit fitting for Sebastian’s wedding, and it's kept me in the United States only because it’s a reminder that I should be thinking of my future. Of starting a family. Not a sexy little gardener who has a well-established business and life in Australia.

I can’t see her happily mowing lawns in Central Park as a career choice.

Our worlds don’t fit.

But getting ready in the mornings while watching her fall asleep was the best part of my day.

Lying in bed while I got a few minutes of her time as she tucked herself into the corner, away from her team, on a landscaping job usually kept me awake with a hard on, but eventually I’d fall asleep with her name on my lips and thoughts of her throbbing through my veins.

Now there’s just an emptiness because she was ashamed of what happened on our last call. She won’t even read my messages anymore. To be fair, they probably triggered her.

Riley, touching yourself is beautiful. Next time you can watch me stroking my cock as you lie there with your legs apart. Your pussy is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

Might’ve been too much in hindsight.

Now I need to give Todd my respect and focus on being the lead character on this show that could see me meet the woman who will become my wife.

If I’m going to do that, I need to make sure my lawyers can get me out of the marriage and include a weighty prenup.

I’m not stupid.

I take a large gulp of my wine and glance at my phone when it lights up with a reminder for my next hair trim.

Fucking phone.

I want to see Riley’s name, not my damn barber.

“Listen, we don’t want you to think we’re making light of the huge commitment we’re asking of you. The pressure is simply a timing thing. We can’t help that. The network has us locked in.” Todd glances at the other guests at the table.

His two lawyers, Gerard and Jackson.

I nod, glance across the restaurant as I consider my next words, then turn back to Todd.

“If I do this, and it’s still a big if, you and a select few members of your team will need to sign a hefty NDA at which point I can share a few things about my business which you’ll need to consider should they leak.”

They stare at me.

I lift my napkin and dab my mouth.

“That’s it. I can’t say anymore. You’ll understand.” I lift my brow and glance between them.

“Of course,” Jackson says.

“Good,” I respond, my eyes grazing the table, knowing my appetite is dead. “Then, I’ll get that part arranged tomorrow morning. We can go from there.”

I stand, shake Todd’s hand, give the other men a nod, then stride out of the restaurant. I’ve left them with more questions than I arrived with, but without that NDA in place, I can’t share any information about The Obsidian Club.

I fire off a message to my attorney, and he responds a minute later confirming he’ll have a draft for me in the morning.

Then I stare at Riley’s name as I wait for my driver to arrive and feel a cold sense of emptiness.

No, that’s a lie.

I’m still mad. I want her to call me back.

I want to see her sparkling blue eyes and hear that adorable accent. I want to make her blush and...I want to hold her in my arms, grab that gorgeous face and fucking kiss her.

In person.

My eyes lift and I take in all the New Yorkers and tourists going about their lives. Not a single woman in this city interests me right now.

I want Riley.

And when I want something, I get it.

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MONDAY NIGHT WE’RE all dragged to On The Rocks Bar to watch Lexi work. I have no idea why Emily decided this was compulsory attendance, but here we fucking are.

It’s not like Lexi is the first twenty-something British girl to cross the ocean and work in a bar in Manhattan, but we need to babysit her. She looks as happy to see us as I am to be there.

Mason has lost his fucking mind over this girl, and I swear if the two get married, I’ll be signing that contract the next day.

I’m not worried about being the last single man standing—it’s simply a reminder that it's time to settle down with a woman. I’ve been a playboy for a long time, I know that. Perhaps it’s not my buddies finding their perfect match. Maybe this is nature nudging me.

Todd and his team signed the NDA within hours of my attorney sending them the paperwork, so the next step is over to me.

I’m procrastinating.

This morning, I got a message saying they have narrowed their choice down to two bachelors—me and one other.

The clock is ticking.

Wait until I tell them that I own an exclusive adult-only club. That might turn them off.

It is unlikely to leak, but it could.

Being on such a popular show is a risk, and any of our members could get fidgety. I’d have my communications team send out a message saying the club’s anonymity would be protected.

This is how to do risk management.

I put him off for a few days, but his response was clear: I need to give him an answer by next week.

Fuck.

I lean on the bar, ignoring everyone, and scroll Instagram until I come across a post Riley has shared. She’s at the beach, sun-kissed and looking so fucking gorgeous I let out a moan.

I wish I’d seen her post orgasm. I was left with my dick in my hand, a palm full of cum staring at a dead screen. It wasn’t my best moment.

Thing is, I’ve gone over and over this, and while my ego was a little bruised, what I’ve finally figured out, as I watch Emily and Sebastian, and Mason look like a mental patient over Lexi, is that I miss her.

I miss Riley.

I want that fucking kiss.

And I’m going to get it.

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