9. Sterling
9
STERLING
I read the texts from Hallie again.
I’m sorry I couldn’t make dinner. I’ve been meeting with potential matches. H.
Thank you for the flowers. They’ve actually got me thinking. I have a lady who runs her own floral company. I’d like you to meet her. H.
How is Saturday night for a date? H.
I almost type back to the last one telling her I’ll look forward to it more than a kid looks forward to a vacation at Disney World.
Then I remember she doesn’t mean a date with her.
“Jesus Christ,” I groan, leaning back in my chair.
I’m attracted to her. More than attracted to her. I can’t stop thinking about her. About the way her eyes light up when she talks about energy and vibrations. How her voice gets light and breathy when she’s excited. The way her hair shines like an angel’s. The way her cheeks flush and her lips part every time she’s caught me staring at her.
The way her hips curve below her waist, creating the perfect ledge for my hand to rest on if I were to slide my arm around her like she was mine…
The perfect ledge to grip on to as I work her up and down my dick.
“Damn it.” I clench my fist around the rose quartz heart.
I’m surprised I don’t have an indent of the thing permanently pressed into my palm.
It’s what I do now. Whenever I’m at work, one hand is wrapped around the thing, like it’s my connection to her. I think about her constantly. Rushing to read texts she sends me. Snatching up my phone the second it rings in case it’s her.
Because since I held her in my arms at the Statue of Liberty, she’s been avoiding me. I’ve no doubt about it.
So now, I’m gripping this pink stone like it holds the answers to what I’m supposed to do. If I’m not, then it’s my dick at home I’m gripping, imagining the way she’d sound crying out my name, her nails digging into my ass as I thrust inside her.
Does she blush when she comes?
Would she manage to keep her eyes open and on mine as I come inside her, spilling every hot drop from my aching balls until it was running down her thighs?
Or would she close them, too overwhelmed with how hard I’d make her come all over my cock?
“Pervert,” I mutter with disgust as the crotch of my suit pants grows uncomfortably tight.
My phone rings, and I grab it, adjusting myself as I see her name on the screen.
Hallie.
I changed it the moment she asked me to call her that.
“Hello?” I answer, guilt making my mouth sour. I’m sitting here with a dick that’s painfully hard and leaking, knowing without a doubt it’ll not go fully down until I relieve myself to thoughts of her.
“Are you ready for tonight?”
The excited breathiness of her words has me biting the inside of my cheek to stop my groan.
“I am. Are you?”
“Definitely. I’ve got a good feeling about it. I even got a new dress.”
“You did?”
I relax in my seat as I listen to her chat easily. It’s like a caress of calm to my soul. We have the charity gala this evening. So even though she’s been avoiding seeing me in person, we’re about to spend all evening in one another’s company.
“I did. Sinclair took me shopping.”
Those four words are a wrecking ball shattering the peace in my chest and replacing it with a cold, stark reality.
My daughter.
The daughter who hired Hallie to find me love. My daughter, who is much closer in age than I am to the woman starring in my depraved fantasies. Ones filled with desperate, hot, sticky sex and mind-altering synchronized orgasms.
She’s twenty years younger than me.
She has her entire life ahead of her.
And it’s not one that features a man old enough to be her father.
She’d be damn well ruined if I ever laid my hands on her.
“I can’t wait to see it,” I reply as smoothly as I can, while my pulse beats like a drum in my groin.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to meet you there?”
“Of course not. I’ll pick you up. Seven thirty?”
“That means seven-fifteen in Sterling time.” She laughs.
I chuckle as I stroke the pink heart between my fingers, loving that she already knows me. “You’re right.”
“Okay. I’ll see you tonight.”
I can hear the smile in her voice before she rings off. It’s been there every time we’ve spoken—which has been every day, usually two or three times.
But she’s avoiding seeing me in person, which makes me wonder why.
Why would a beautiful, intelligent, thirty-year-old woman want to avoid being in physical proximity with me? Especially when she’s been hired to work with me. Why would she suck in those small little gasps of air when my hand rests on her lower back? Why would her pulse flutter in her neck the way it does when I’ve kissed her hello on her cheek?
My dick throbs in my pants.
I close my fist around the crystal heart.
No. I can’t allow myself to consider that she feels anything other than what is professionally appropriate toward me for a second.
Because if I do… Damn, if I do…
I readjust myself in my pants in the hope of relief.
But there’s none.
I can’t consider it. She’s too young for me. That’s all there is to it.
My hand lingers over my dick, before I cave and give it a firm squeeze.
The sound that seeps from my lips rivals one of a starving animal.
It pulses to life in my hand, pre-cum seeping from the end in desperation, eager to release to thoughts of her.
I could relieve the ache momentarily. But it will only return with a vengeance.
I can’t escape it.
I can’t fool my body into thinking some hastily jerked out orgasms will ever be a substitute for what it really craves.
Dropping my dick like it’s a hot poker, I tighten my grip on the pink crystal heart and slam my other fist down against my desk.
“Goddamn it!”
Hallie thinks I’m a gentleman.
I can’t do anything that will taint that.
Not a damn thing.
“Wow. Lavinia has an incredible talent for style. This place looks amazing.”
My eyes never stray from Hallie’s face as she takes in the room, her gaze moving up the ballrooms giant stone pillars that are swathed in golden light.
“She does,” I agree. “All the fundraising events she orchestrates are like this.”
Hallie beams, her eyes twinkling as the string quartet on the far side of the ballroom seamlessly move into another song.
“So this is all for low-income city families?” Her eyes bounce around the room in wonder at all of the tuxedos and ballgowns as people move around and talk with champagne flutes in their hands. “Sinclair said over three million has been raised already.”
“She’s correct. And yes, it’s for kids who don’t get the opportunity to leave the city much and also for young caregivers. The charity arranges trips and vacations to the coast for them and their families.”
I pluck two glasses of orange juice from a server’s silver tray, thanking him before handing one to Hallie.
I slide my hand back to its position on her lower back the second she takes the glass from me. It’s been there since the moment I helped her out of our limo, and I have no desire to move it unless she wants me to.
“Young caregivers.” She shakes her head with a small, unbelieving smile. “It sounds like the charity that helped my family when Jenny and I were kids.”
“It does?”
She tugs on her lower lip with her teeth before lifting her eyes to meet mine.
“My parents were there as much as possible for us. But Jenny’s school wasn’t cheap, and they both worked long hours to pay for it. I was the one taking her and picking her up from school and making us dinner each night. Doing the grocery shopping, getting the housework and laundry done. Just regular stuff, you know?”
“That’s a lot of responsibility for a child.”
She frowns. “I guess it is. I used to go to these activity summer camps for kids. My place was funded by a charity. It’s where I met my best friend, Sophie. She’s a lawyer in London now. And I…” She glances around the room again. “I get to come to places like this and help people find love. I’m blessed to be able to do something I care about.”
She turns to me with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
I rub slow circles against the base of her spine with my thumb.
I lower my voice discreetly. “You had to grow up fast. It’s okay to be conflicted in how you feel about that.”
She blinks, her eyes shining as she leans into me. “I wouldn’t change it. I loved every second I had with Jenny.”
“And now you dedicate your life to finding love for other people. But who looks after you, Hallie?” I rasp.
Her lips part and her cheeks flush before she breaks our eye contact, dropping her gaze to her glass.
I wait for her to speak.
After a few seconds of silence, she lifts her glass. “Let’s toast.”
I mirror her movement, clinking my crystal flute against hers.
“To?”
“To love. And to dating.”
She smiles as I chuckle.
“To love,” I echo. “And to new friends.”
My eyes fix on hers until she looks away, across the room, spotting something.
She rises on her toes to speak discreetly in my ear. “Is that Lavinia?”
Her fragrance surrounds me. Fresh, young, awakening. Like oranges and honey warmed by the sun. It’s the same as in her hair when we were at Liberty Island. I inhale subtly as I continue tracing circles over her skin with my thumb.
I whisper in her ear, “It is.”
“Wow. She’s beautiful.” Hallie places her free hand over my chest and rests it there. “Can we go and say hello?”
“In a moment.”
I splay my fingers out against her lower back and pull her even closer. Her breath catches, and she blinks at me from beneath her lashes. I allow myself an indulgent sweep of her face, committing it to memory.
Fast beats of her pulse flutter beneath the surface of silky skin on her neck, the sight making my blood heat.
I’m playing a dangerous game here.
“Why not now?” she puffs out in a small whisper.
Her pupils dilate as she absentmindedly strokes my shirt with featherlight fingertips, right over my thundering heart.
“Sterling?” Her soft, full lips shine as her tongue darts out to wet them.
“Hallie?” I counter, relishing the way a tiny shiver runs through her as I say it.
The urge to keep her close, to pull her to me and not let go is overwhelming.
I flex my fingers against her back to prevent me from taking ahold of her chin and tilting it back so I can lower my mouth to hers.
I bet kissing her would be like kissing a ray of sun.
Warm. Inviting. Enlivening.
Her fingers trace figures of eight over my heart. I doubt she knows she’s doing it.
She blinks up at me. “I’d like to donate tonight. Do I make out a cheque? Or transfer it to an account?”
“Any way you want to. The suggested donation is a minimum of two hundred thousand. It doesn’t matter how it comes.”
“Oh, okay.”
She drops her hand from my chest and fiddles with her hair, tucking an invisible strand behind her ear.
She looks at her drink, lips pressed tightly together.
I study the lines creasing her forehead.
She’s a wealthy woman. Wealthy enough to invest in the same project as me a few months ago. A bio-fuel rocket engine headed up by Logan Rich, a British engineer. It’s one of the things that came up when Denver ran a security check on her. If I’d gone to the launch party in London, then I might have met her there. But I missed it because I was looking at potential premises to add to the Seasons portfolio.
“Hallie,” I murmur. “Are you okay?”
“Huge turnout!” Sinclair gushes, appearing beside us, her head swiveling around the room as she waves to people she knows.
Hallie steps away from me, looking flustered. “It’s incredible. The amount of people here, I can’t quite believe it.”
“I’m not surprised,” Sullivan adds, sliding in beside Sinclair, his eyes calculating as he looks from Hallie and then to me.
I shake my head subtly, and he grunts into his champagne flute, taking a sip as he scans the room. His attention zeroes in on a woman in a skintight red dress who’s looking over at him with hungry eyes.
“Who’s that?” Sinclair sneers.
“No idea,” he replies coolly, his eyes dropping to the woman’s feet and back up, drinking her in.
“Bet you’ll know later, though, right? When she’s getting acquainted with your penthouse in The Lanceford.” Sinclair knocks her champagne back and then switches it for another from a passing tray, knocking that one back too.
Sullivan’s jaw clenches. “I don’t know what you mean, Sis.”
She snorts. “Like hell you don’t.”
She turns to Hallie with an apologetic smile, her eyes glassy, making me wonder how many of the free champagnes she’s already taken advantage of.
“I’m sorry you have to hear about my brother’s slutty behavior. It’s the furthest thing from true love matches.” She wobbles in her heels. “Kind of makes a sham of it all when he sticks his dick in a different woman every week.”
“Sinclair,” I warn. “That’s enough.”
My daughter’s pained eyes meet mine and she fiddles with her diamond pendant. “I’m still holding out hope for you, Dad. Don’t worry.” She tips her empty glass toward the bar. “I’m going to get another drink.”
“Is she okay?” Hallie looks after her with concern. “I should?—”
“I’ll go,” Sullivan clips. “She had a run-in with another model at her shoot earlier. Accused her of stealing one of her scarves. She’s just letting off steam.”
He squeezes my shoulder. “You look after Halliday. Introduce her to the… appropriate women she’s going to set you up on dates with.” His eyes darken before he strolls away in the direction of the bar.
My grip tightens around my glass.
I’m a fool.
I have no right to tangle Hallie up in any of my shit.
My other hand leaves her back for the first time since we arrived.
It happens at the exact same moment Lavinia breezes over, her arms outstretched.
“Sterling!” She beams, pulling me into a hug.
She rests her palm on my upper arm as she assesses me, her eyes twinkling.
“Lavinia.” I smile. “I’d like you to meet Halliday Burton. She’s my?—”
“Divine power facilitator,” Hallie interjects, smiling brightly at Lavinia and offering her hand.
Lavinia takes it, her brow scrunching in confusion. “Is that a… life coach?”
Hallie tilts her head, her lips pulling to one side as she thinks. “I suppose in a way. I help people to recognize signs from the universe. To unlock magic and love.”
“She was my gift… From Sinclair,” I add.
Hallie glances at me before turning her attention to Lavinia. “I’m here to meet Sterling’s friends and get to know the people who are important to him. I can tell you more about my work when you have time tonight?”
Lavinia looks between the two of us as though she’s about to ask more. But she promptly returns Hallie’s beaming smile with a friendly one.
“How marvelous. I would love that. Why don’t I introduce you to some people now? Sterling, you’ll be okay?”
“Please, be my guest,” I reply, holding up a hand in invitation.
Hallie throws me an encouraging smile before Lavinia leads her off into the crowd with their arms linked.
I let my eyes leave her for the first time all evening and turn, surveying the crowd of people congregated around the long bar.
I spot my friend, Lawson, and make my way to him. He’s standing talking to Frankie Millington, a real estate agent with slicked back hair and receding morals. We’ve all known one another since college.
“Evening.” I tip my chin at them.
“Sterling.” Lawson’s face lights up as he spots me. “You can settle this one for us. Frankie’s got it in his head that Roman’s missed out on tonight because Nina’s got him on a tight leash.”
I chuckle into my juice as I take a sip. Our friend, Roman, closed one of Manhattan’s largest known deals on record for the sale of some commercial buildings. It’s all just legal paperwork and negotiations to Roman, a lawyer who specializes in business and property litigation. But to Frankie, he might as well have hung the damn moon.
“I think you’ll find he’s at his cousin’s wedding. And he asked Nina to go with him now that they’ve been dating awhile.”
“Told you.” Lawson raises his brows at Frankie, who shakes his head.
I exchange an amused look with Lawson. Frankie’s first assumption is always that a woman is making demands. Possibly due to the messy divorce he’s currently wrapped up in with his second wife.
“How’s the gallery?” I ask.
Lawson adjusts his bowtie, tipping his head to one side. “It’s good. But it would be even better if I could tie down another big name for a show. It’s been months since we’ve generated enough buzz to get front page of New York Magazine . My contributors are getting impatient.”
I slide one hand into my pant pocket. “How about Ashton Conti?”
“Keep talking.” Lawson’s lips curl into a smile.
“Sullivan helped him with his engagement ring. And Sinclair’s friends with his fiancée.”
“The mystery muse?” Lawson’s smile transforms into a delighted laugh. “That was quite the story on the art circuit a couple of months back.”
“I recall,” I hum in amusement.
Maybe that’s what prompted my daughter to contact Hallie. She saw her friend fall for an artist who fell in love with her without ever seeing her face. Sinclair probably thought it was a perfect example of the universe weaving its magic for love. She must have wondered what else it could do. Whether it could bring some light into her father’s tormented existence.
“I’ll swing by and see you at the club tomorrow. We can talk.”
I nod. “You’re buying lunch.”
Frankie whistles.
“Is that the woman Sinclair hired for you? The matchmaker?”
My spine stiffens as I follow his beady eyes to Hallie, who’s standing with Lavinia and chatting animatedly to a group of people.
“Halliday Burton,” I confirm. “And she’s a divine power facilitator.”
“Divine… you can say that again,” Frankie says.
He licks his lips, his eyes roaming over Hallie in her long silk dress that hugs her every curve. The back of it dips low. Far enough that I’m confident she isn’t wearing a bra. But I’ve refrained from allowing my gaze to dip low enough over her front to check. My willpower can keep me from looking. But there’s no telling how fast it could desert me if I were to glimpse her perfect tight nipples teasing beneath the silk of her dress.
I clear my throat. “She’s not a damn steak, Frankie. Get your tongue back in your mouth.”
“I’d rather get it in hers.” He runs a hand around his jaw, eye-fucking Hallie without restraint.
My blood heats, rushing in my ears. “She’s thirty,” I snap.
Frankie chuckles, the sound making me want to rip his voice box out.
“Sounds like heaven. What I wouldn’t give to have a younger woman bouncing on my balls. Bet she’s got some energy.”
He drinks her in until I adjust my position, blocking her from his eyeline. He leans to see around me, and I step to one side casually like I’m stretching my legs.
The glass in my hand threatens to shatter into pieces as I picture squeezing his neck.
“Isn’t that what got you kicked out?” Lawson smirks.
“Thanks for the reminder,” Frankie grunts, abandoning his attempts to watch Hallie. “Take it from me, gentlemen, if you’re going to snort coke off a hooker’s asshole and then fuck her there, don’t record it for your personal use afterward. Wives find that shit like sniffer hounds.”
Lawson snorts into his drink, and I muster every ounce of strength inside me not to drag Frankie outside right now and throw him under a cab.
“I’m going to go and introduce myself to the lovely Halliday,” he purrs with a leery wink.
He takes a step, and I move forward so I’m toe to toe with him.
“No. You’re not,” I state flatly.
Something akin to understanding flashes in his eyes, and they spark with amusement as he opens his mouth.
But I’m not about to answer questions about my feelings toward Hallie to anyone. Especially Frankie.
A flash of red approaching catches the corner of my eye, and I take a calculated step at the perfect moment, causing the young woman to swerve to avoid me.
She crashes straight into Frankie’s chest with a surprised gasp.
“My apologies,” I say.
“Be more careful, Sterling,” Frankie scolds as he steadies the blonde. “You almost knocked into this stunning woman.”
“Katie,” she pants, batting her eyelashes at Frankie.
“Katie,” he repeats. “What a beautiful name.” He feigns a look of concern that’s as fake as a Canal street purse. “We should get you some water. You’ve had a shock. Allow me to help you. You don’t feel lightheaded, do you?”
“No.” She giggles, drinking up his attention.
“We need to make sure.” He slides his hand around her wrist, cupping it with his fingers pressed against her skin. “Just as I thought. Your pulse is racing. You need to lie down. Come with me. I’ll take you to the medical room.”
He wraps his arm around her and throws a shit-eating grin over his shoulder at us as he leads her away.
“Bye, gentlemen,” he calls.
Lawson chuckles. “That fucker.”
“She didn’t seem to mind,” Sullivan clips as he joins us.
“Sorry, Son,” I murmur.
He shrugs, not even glancing at the woman who had her eyes all over him earlier as she walks away with Frankie. He pulls out his phone and checks it.
“Don’t be. Arabella’s watching Molly. I want to get home.”
“She still getting into bed with you?”
His face softens as he looks at the picture of Molly in a cat onesie that’s his screensaver.
“We both get more sleep that way.”
“Caving in to demands when she’s not even three. Just wait until she’s a teenager.” I chuckle, tension leaving my body as a rare, genuine smile transforms my son’s face.
“Like you didn’t do it with the three of us.” His smile falters as he realizes what he’s just said.
“True.” I clasp him on the shoulder. “I did. And I’d give anything to get to do it again. God knows I would.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t we all.” He slides his phone into the inner pocket of his dinner jacket. “I have some people to speak to, then I’m heading out. I’ve already sent Sinclair home to sleep it off. I called Denver to collect her.”
“Okay. Thanks, Son.”
I don’t push to talk about his comment. He won’t thank me if I do. Sullivan rarely mentions what happened. It’s the way he chooses to deal with it.
“No problem. It’s not like she has a car to drive herself, even if she hadn’t been drinking.”
“True,” I murmur.
Sinclair’s car is in the workshop having another few hundred thousand crystals replaced after she banged it again. I wish she’d get herself something more practical. But if it makes her happy, then I don’t have the heart to persuade her otherwise.
Happiness is worth grabbing on to however it comes to you.
“You don’t need to keep checking on her. She’s a big girl, she’s doing fine without you over there.”
I look away from Hallie across the room and meet Sullivan’s eyes.
“I wasn’t.”
He shakes his head with a grunt.
“I was just thinking it’s the first time I’ve seen her wear gray, that’s all. It suits her.”
“That’s not gray, Dad.”
“So it’s silver. It looks good on her.”
“Silver?” Sullivan arches a brow.
“That’s what I said.”
Lawson chuckles into his glass, his eyes scanning the room as he pretends he isn’t listening to us.
“Sinclair told me it’s a specific shade,” Sullivan says, his voice low. “You know what it’s called?”
My eyes slide over the curve of Hallie’s hips from behind, and I swallow.
“Should I?”
My son leans closer, patting me on the back. “Apparently she’s wearing you , Dad.”
“Sterling silver,” Lawson muses. “Well, you certainly do look good on her.”
My eyes lock with Hallie’s as she turns. She smiles, oblivious to the air that’s been punched from my lungs.
She’s thirty. She’s not… She can never be… I can’t allow myself to even consider it for a moment…
“Don’t stay out too late, Dad,” Sullivan warns before he walks away.
Lawson’s eyes follow mine to Hallie, before he winks at me. “Or do.”