Chapter 15 Sullivan
SULLIVAN
“What’s made you so pissed?”
“What makes you think I’m pissed?”
Rafe’s rich brown eyes glimmer through the phone’s screen, and he lets out a deep chuckle. He holds his hands out, his palms facing up as he leans back in the chair in his office. “Fair enough, if you don’t want to talk about it.”
Working together over the years has meant our business relationship has evolved into friendship.
Even before I took over as Beaufort Diamonds CEO, I was the one who dealt with our insurance and other legal requirements.
It’s one of the first things Dad taught me to manage in readiness for taking the helm one day.
My brother was learning to head up global marketing, because he loved to travel, and I was learning the rest. Where I was rigid and found satisfaction in following strict routines, he was fun and saw everything as an adventure.
Not a day goes by that I don’t wonder why I’m the one who got to live, and he didn’t.
“The nanny I hired for Molly stole Claudia’s ring,” I grind out.
A curse that tastes bitter on my tongue follows my confession, and I lean over my forearms on my desk.
Molly went to bed hours ago, and here I am again, despite it being five days since it happened, sitting alone in my office, nursing a whiskey, and letting Tate Miller take up far too much space in my head.
I expected her to deny it, which she did.
But what I didn’t expect was a kids’ animal magazine and a handwritten note left with Cliff to give to me when I left work.
A note containing the recipe for the mushroom and truffle pasta Molly enjoyed so much.
Tate didn’t sign it, but it was from her.
The thing even had smudges of that damn cocoa powder on it.
I can just picture her writing it in that little pink shirt of hers.
The one that hugs her curves like she was poured into it.
I’m a goddamn idiot for allowing myself to be momentarily blindsided by an unexpected and fleeting attraction to a woman who is clearly only out for herself.
Maybe the way she was with my daughter was all fake too.
Fuck, that thought makes me angrier than any stupid missing ring.
“Bugger. What did she say when you caught her?” Rafe asks.
“She didn’t say anything. I didn’t see her take it, but I found the box empty.
” I lift my glass and swallow a mouthful of whiskey.
“Joan’s been sick, not that she would ever do a thing like that.
She’s worked for me for years without issue.
The only person who’s been here, other than family, is Tate. ” I spit out her name like it’s acid.
“Cameras?” Rafe hitches a brow in question.
“No, the security system was off,” I grumble.
Another stupid mistake of mine. Lesson learned, don’t run a system upgrade when there are flame-haired thieves about.
“So what are you going to do?”
“Claim it off the insurance.” I smirk.
Rafe chuckles. “Your premium will go up.”
“Fuck off.” I let out a deep sigh, putting my glass down and pushing my hand back through my hair. “This week’s been a shitshow. The only upside is that Fabienne is practically a done deal.”
“It is,” Rafe agrees. “Everything on our end is all set for the takeover.”
“Appreciate it,” I reply.
“So if it’s not just the nanny thief, what else is bothering you?”
I run my tongue around the edges of my teeth as I recall my conversation with my father yesterday, and the news of who’s back in the city.
“Sinclair’s car was trashed, and she’s been getting threats. Dad’s got Denver assigned to her whenever she leaves the house,” I tell Rafe.
“Shit. Sounds serious.”
“Maybe. Dad’s gotten it into his head that it could be something to do with Neil being back in New York.”
“Neil?” Rafe runs a hand around his jaw as he contemplates my words. “That’s the guy your mum was having the affair with, right?”
“It is.”
I curl my hands around the arms of my chair, gripping them tight and imagining them being Neil’s neck.
I know Mom was just as much to blame for the seedy affair with her first love in the months before she died.
But the fact remains that he’s the man who’s responsible for the pain in my father’s eyes after he found all of the sordid evidence they left behind following her passing.
I knew my parents weren’t madly in love.
I recognize a couple who make a conscious decision to be together because it’s a good choice and they make sense, not because they can’t bear to live without one another. It’s exactly how I was with Claudia.
I glare at the empty ring box sitting on my desk. I’ve placed it here as a reminder of why I cannot afford to make another mistake like I did when I hired Tate.
“We don’t know why he’s here. But until we do, Dad doesn’t want to take any chances. I’m not sure it’s him. I have a feeling it’s been going on a lot longer than Sinclair will admit. I expect she’s been hiding it so we don’t worry.”
“Sisters.” Rafe shakes his head with a mirthful smile. He’s one of three brothers and one sister. If anyone gets siblings, it’s him.
“Yeah.”
Neil’s reappearance is likely a coincidence. But I could be wrong. People can be selfish and destructive. My mind flicks to Natasha. I haven’t heard from her in weeks. Hopefully it stays that way.
“Tell me something interesting. And not some shit about insurance. Something that’ll distract me,” I mutter.
Rafe draws in a deep breath before letting it out as a weighted sigh. “I’m interested in someone… and she’s my sister’s best friend.”
“What?” I stare at him. This is Rafe. A man who never dates the same woman for more than a few weeks. And that’s being generous. I’ve never known him to be seriously interested in anyone or anything, except his multi-billion-pound company.
He grimaces. “I know. What’s worse is, she’s thirteen years younger than me with a smart mouth and a bad attitude, and I can’t stop thinking about her.”
I lean back in my chair, my lips quirking, eating up the distraction like a starving man.
“You slept with her?”
“Course I bloody haven’t,” Rafe splutters. “Aurora’s Dove’s friend and… I shouldn’t even like her…” He blows out a breath, before his eyes glint. “She has this fashion vlog. She films herself trying on all these outfits… dresses, skirts...”
“Let me guess? It’s become your daily viewing?” I let out a throaty laugh, and it feels good.
“It’s not funny, arsehole.” Rafe grumbles. “It’s ruining my life. I can’t even enjoy sex anymore because it’s not with her.”
I hold back my amusement. Because as entertaining as the thought of Rafe lusting after a younger woman he can’t have is, my chest still pangs with an ounce of sympathy for him. The poor bastard’s a goner, I can see it in his eyes. Another reason why falling for someone just causes problems.
We talk a little longer before Rafe hangs up, and I head to Molly’s room to check on her.
My heart lifts at the little dark curls splayed across her pillow, shining from the glow of her nightlight. I walk over and press a kiss to her forehead. She doesn’t stir from her sleep.
“Sweet dreams, Sweetheart,” I whisper.
The explorer book she loves so much is on the floor at the side of her bed. I pick it up and stare at the cartoon character on the cover.
“She’d have loved for you to read this to her,” I murmur as though my brother can hear me.
But he never answers. Dead people don’t.
As I place the book on the nightstand, my eye catches on a Barbie doll Molly’s left there. It beams at me with a pink-lipped smile and perfect white teeth.
On its wrist is Claudia’s ring.
“What the hell?”
I lift the doll, sliding the ring off its arm and holding it up at eye level. The Barbie grins mockingly and my gaze drops to the picture it was sitting on.
I swallow a sudden swell of bile. It’s the picture Molly drew in my office the first time Tate watched her.
There are two figures in it. Both with wide grins.
A small one with dark swirls for hair. And a larger one with red hair, wearing pink.
The red-haired one has a scribble on its arm with a light blue blob in the center, like a jewel.
My gut churns as images of Tate clearing up dinner flash to mind. Her bracelet had clacked against the countertop as she’d wiped it down. A gawdy thing that looked like it came from the bargain bin at Target—one big piece of clear plastic in the middle, mounted on a silver bangle.
I look back at my peacefully sleeping daughter.
“What the fuck have I done?”