11. Sterling
11
STERLING
“An extra three hundred thousand? Really, Dad?”
Sullivan grunts as I drive my fist into the pad he’s holding.
“Sounds like an expensive date if you ask me,” Mal quips from the workout bench, a towel slung around his shoulders, sweat dripping from his brow.
“I don’t recall asking either of you. And it wasn’t a date.” I fire another jab toward my son.
He stands firm and catches it, his eyes glinting.
“What?” I huff.
“Nothing. Just got some extra power behind your hits today, that’s all.”
“He’ll need it if he wants to keep up with her,” Mal sniggers. “You remember Halliday’s thirty?”
“You think I don’t damn well know how old she is?”
I tear my boxing gloves off and drop them on the floor, slumping onto a bench and resting my elbows on my knees to get my breath back.
“You’ve got it wrong. I made an extra donation on her behalf, that’s all. The charity needs it more than I do.”
Sullivan grunts. “I thought she has her own money.”
I roll out my tense shoulders. They’re a pair of vultures. All Mal’s talked about since we began our workout is Halliday accompanying me to the fundraiser. And Sullivan’s been giving me knowing looks ever since he overheard Lavinia calling to thank me for the extra donation.
“She does,” I clip.
My son hitches a brow but lets it drop. It’s not his place to comment on how Hallie spends her money. If she chooses to donate most of it away that’s her decision. I admire her for investing in something that means a lot to her. Yet, I can’t shake the uneasiness in my gut when I think of her as a child, shouldering the responsibility of caring for her sister. Every cell in my body is urging me to find a way to support her so she never has to worry again. Spoil her. Give her everything she could ever need or want.
It’s a living, breathing compulsion that I can’t act upon. Because she isn’t mine. And I’m selfish for even hoping there was a way she could be.
I’m shackling her to me. Stealing her future from her, one day at a time. As long as she’s here, she’s stuck. She won’t leave until she completes her job to find me love.
But no matter how hard she looks she won’t find what she’s searching for.
There is no woman she will ever meet who can fill that void.
Because every inch of it is spilling over with thoughts of her.
I’ve fought against it, denied it, told myself it’s ridiculous, that she’s young enough to be my daughter, that I’m a creep for even looking at her.
But it’s still there.
This unexplainable pull.
My pulse races and my blood heats the moment she walks into a room. I want to invent reasons to touch her, to inhale her scent. To look into her eyes, admire their beauty, count the flutters in her neck her pulse makes when I say her name. Hear her talk about vibrations and energy. Watch her place crystals around with that serene smile of hers.
I want to watch everything she does, see every moment her face lights up the way it does when she’s excited.
I want it all .
Everything pales into the background when she’s near me. All I see is her.
I scrub my hands through my hair. Beads of sweat run down my naked torso, through my chest hair.
“Monty, watch your paws!”
I snap my head up.
Sinclair shrieks and swoops down, gathering the dog into her arms before he steps into a puddle of fresh sweat on the floor.
Hallie steps through the door behind her.
My mouth goes dry.
I jump to my feet, turning my back and grabbing my long-sleeved workout top, pulling it on as fast as I can.
Hallie’s eyes bounce up from my naked back as I turn to face her.
“Sorry for showing up without calling. Sinclair said you’d be here,” she says.
“No need to apologize.”
I pick up my towel and rub it around my hairline.
She steps closer with a tray of fresh juices.
She watches me, her lips parting as I lift my chin and dry my neck, before slinging the towel over one shoulder.
“That for us?” Mal asks, tipping his head at the tray.
“Sure is.” She holds it out so he can take one. She hands another to Sullivan, and then offers the final one to me.
“You didn’t need to do that.” I close my hand around the cup, my fingers brushing hers as I take it.
“It’s called ‘buttering you up’ back home.”
“Buttering me up?” I arch a brow, and her eyes sparkle as she grins.
“It means I’m trying to get you in a good mood so you’ll say yes to what I’m going to ask you.”
“Ah, I see.” I lean closer, catching the scent of oranges and honey, and lower my voice. “Tell me what you need and it’s yours.”
Her eyes widen slightly as she blinks up at me. “Um… just your undivided attention?” She snags her lower lip between her teeth.
“You’ve always got that.”
She lets out a cute little laugh, brushing off my comment.
“Tomorrow night, then? I can set it up?” She glances at Sinclair and then Sullivan and Mal. “Will you all be able to make it? I thought a big dinner with everyone would be perfect.”
The excitement rolling off her makes me smile, but I hide it by taking a sip of juice when I catch Sullivan watching our interaction with growing interest.
“A big dinner?” Mal asks, slurping his drink and pulling an impressed face at the taste.
“Yes. With all of you, and your wife, Trudy, isn’t it? And some of your work colleagues you’re close to? Arabella?” She looks at Sullivan. “And Molly, of course. And Denver, and whoever else you want to invite.”
“Sounds more like a wedding party. Do we need to send out invites?” Mal chuckles.
“It’s going to be so much fun.” Hallie beams, looking at me. “And I’m inviting someone special.”
“A date for my father?” Sullivan says. “Why, it sounds perfect, doesn’t it, Dad? Just what you wanted.”
He throws me a dark look which Hallie doesn’t see.
“So I can book us somewhere?” she asks me, her cheeks glowing.
I swallow down the acid rising up my windpipe. The thought of going on another date and not only having Hallie there watching us, but everyone else as well, makes me wish I could say no to her.
“Sterling?”
My name is a plea from her soft lips, disintegrating any excuses I could make.
I can’t deny this woman anything. She could ask me for the moon and I’d find a way to get it for her.
“Why don’t I get chefs in at Seasons? We can dine there before it opens,” I suggest.
“Really? That would be incredible.”
My reasons for suggesting my club are selfish. I can escape should I wish to. Say I’m going to get a bottle of wine and take my time. Pretend something came up in the kitchen with the chefs that I had to assist with.
I'd rather do anything than sit next to a woman all night who I don't know and have no interest in getting to know.
A woman who isn’t Hallie.
“Just give me a time and I’ll arrange the rest.”
“You don’t need to do that. It was my idea.”
“I’ll take care of it. I want to take care of it.”
“In that case, thank you. Let’s say seven. I’ll meet you there early, although I don’t think we’ll need to go over much beforehand. She isn’t a stranger.”
“Who is she?” I ask, apprehension slithering up my spine.
Hallie gives me a coy smile and pats me on the chest. “You’ll see.”