Chapter 12
12
R AIN
“How was it?” I ask.
Eve glances at me.
“It wasn’t.”
“Why?”
She flicks her hand up, shifting her eyes to the menu, looking preoccupied while trying to pick something to eat.
It’s late Sunday afternoon.
The weather is breezy and sunny, with people strolling down the street, heading to Central Park.
It’s early for dinner and past lunchtime, so only a few tables are occupied on the small terrace.
A canopy of branches casts a shadow over the tables.
My phone lights up with a notification next to my plate.
“He’ll be here in a few minutes,” I say, reading James’ text just as the waitress shows up.
“Are you ready to order?”
I look at Eve.
“I’m good,” she says, glancing at me.
“We’re waiting for someone else,” I say, shifting my gaze to the woman.
“Sure. No problem. Let me know if you need anything else,” she says, setting Eve’s iced tea on the table.
The waitress pulls away while I slide my hand over the table, touching Eve’s forearm.
“Tell me... What happened last night?”
Sipping tea through a straw, she mulls over the answer before setting the glass down.
“Well, not much. We made it to my building, hopped in the elevator, and rode it up to my apartment, where he made his move and kissed me in front of my door, which was sexy. The chemistry was there. And he was turned on, and I was too. But then I wrestled with the lock, eager to invite him in, when he stopped kissing me, and everything halted.”
I toss a questioning look at her.
“He remembered he had someone in his life and realized he went too far with me,”
“Then he realized?” I ask.
“I asked him the same question. He blamed it on the alcohol, getting swept away, and flirting mindlessly.”
“He came onto you.”
“Yeah, he did. And he admitted it but never thought we would hit it off. In the end, it dawned on him that if we ended up together, he would put his relationship at risk.”
I roll my eyes, growling with frustration.
“What a self-centered prick. Why was he in a club if he had someone at home?”
She flicks her hand up.
“It’s not worth talking about him. That was not the first time it happened to me.”
“So, what did you do?”
“Sent him home.”
She smiles, but soon her grin fades, and sadness rolls over her eyes.
She drinks more tea, trying to keep her spirits up.
“So… Seemingly, it’s up to those two men in Monte Carlo,” she jokes.
It’s her favorite joke, but I don’t feel like laughing.
Her inability to find someone gnaws at my conviction that it’s all a matter of fate and opportunity.
She’s had plenty of opportunities.
She’s had relationships and boyfriends, but her hookups have never amounted to anything.
And every single time she moved on, she also tried different things. Different kinds of men. Different approaches. She lowered the bar and pushed up the bar, and the results were all the same.
No matter how seriously she took them, the outcome was always the same.
I don’t know why.
She’s one of the most attractive women I’ve ever known. Educated. She has a well-paying job. And she is well-mannered.
I can’t believe she is the problem. It must be the men she’s running into.
But what is wrong with them?
Why can’t a woman like her find a man who cherishes and loves her for who she is?
She moves her eyes away from me, her grin gone, her lips trembling softly.
She must feel the same way.
Her frustration with the process must’ve reached alarming heights.
“I’m done looking for a man,” she says.
I sense the anger in her voice, and it’s hard to blame her.
I’d be mad as hell too.
“You can’t give up. You’re still young, and the world is full of possibilities.”
The sadness in her eyes makes me stop.
“Getting disappointed over and over again? I’m sorry. It’s just not worth it,” she says. “I don’t want to lose my sleep over it. Besides, I don’t get much out of it, anyway.”
“How can you tell if it’s never happened to you?”
“ What I really wanted hasn’t happened to me. Everything else has. I’ve had all kinds of experiences, enough to tell you I don’t care either way. I don’t care if I find him. Or if he wants me or not.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
She shrugs.
“I’ll get myself a nice supply of... dildos? Too bad they can’t talk, right?”
She chuckles, amused.
“Or I can find myself a friend with benefits. Or both. The escort is still a possibility. Although it will take some time to find him. If I find him, I won’t be able to keep him on a retainer, so it will be a few times deal. Whenever I get a bonus at work, I splurge it on hot sex. That sort of thing.”
I look at her, not knowing what to say.
A long breath fills my lungs.
“Listen...”
“I’m not doing the dating apps thing again,” she says before I have the chance to speak. “I did it. And it was an absolute disaster. There was nothing wrong with the apps. Trust me. I’ve tried them all. But the men were not much different than what I met in real life. At the club. Or at the gym. It’s worse with the dating apps if you ask me.”
“Okay. All right. You do what you think is best for you, but there must be a lesson to learn from all these failed attempts.”
She flicks her hands up.
“I don’t want to deal with this anymore,” she says, frustration tinging her voice. “I don’t think there is wisdom in it. Besides, I don’t believe in fate or the idea that a particular man is supposed to be mine. I don’t believe in any of that.”
“And that’s probably part of the journey.”
She looks at me, intrigued.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a reason you have to go through all this. A stupid one, nonetheless, but there must be one. I’m sure it will all make sense someday.”
“I don’t care.”
“I know you don’t. I’d feel the same if I were you, but all I’m saying here is that you shouldn’t give up.”
“This is not about me giving up. It’s what it is. I have co-workers who are luckier than me.”
She’s sarcastic about it.
Evidently.
“They found someone, and their love life is as boring as a doorknob,” she continues.
I open my mouth to speak, but she is faster than me.
“I know what you want to say. It’s only a group of people. And you might be right, but it’s still significant if you think about it. Other than you and perhaps Dahlia, I don’t know anyone whose love life is good.”
“I’m not a good example.”
“Yes, you are. I know you miss him when he’s away, but even that is a good sign. It tells me how much you love him. And how much he loves you. You’re not even freshly married. You’ve been together for seven years.”
I stay mum.
“And that’s not all,” she goes on. “You knew from the start that you two were made for each other. And he knew it too. And yeah, fate had played a role, and it was a rocky road, but you made it in the end. And you know why? Because it was real. I, on the other hand... All I’ve got were men attracted to my looks. Or intimidated by my looks. Men who wanted sex without offering commitment. Or men who needed emotional support. See where I’m going with this? Men who wanted a momentary fix before getting the person they really wanted to spend their lives with. Or men who found me too complicated. Too this or too that while offering me nothing. They had no excitement, curiosity, or the slightest sense of adventure. They couldn’t romance me if their life depended on it. They just couldn’t make themselves do it or didn’t think it was worthwhile. Or who the hell knows.”
“A lot of them don’t know how to do it.”
“What do they know then?”
I wish I knew, but I don’t, so I stay silent while she vents her frustration.
“They want so little from a woman. They feel no need to connect with her or have her in their lives. And the strange thing is, I don’t even think about sharing my life with them forever. I don’t even care if I get that from them or not. All I want is a man who can make me feel alive when I’m with him. That’s all.”
Tipping her gaze down, she goes quiet.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to upset you.”
“I’m not upset,” she says, although her jaw is locked, and her eyes sparkle with emotions.
My phone buzzes again.
I pick it up and read the message.
“James is here,” I say, my eyes flying to the street.
“Oh, shit. I don’t want him to see me like this. All fucked up,” she says, running her hand through her hair and smoothing her skirt. “How do I look?”
I glance at her, smiling.
“Relax. You’re good.”
She flashes a grin just as a Bentley rolls next to the sidewalk and comes to a full stop.
The driver walks out but doesn’t get the chance to open the back door as James already climbs out.
The other back door opens, and a second man pulls out.
I notice his brown hair and his eyes the color of the summer sky.
I grapple with surprise.
Wearing a button-down white dress shirt and gray suit pants, he flashes a smile that lights up his eyes.
He looks the same, even more youthful than I remember.
“I’ll be damned,” I murmur as he joins James on the sidewalk.
James catches sight of me and notices my surprise. Tipping his chin down, he greets me.
I wave at them.
James talks to him for a few moments, and grinning, he tips his gaze in our direction before leading the man to our table.
“Who is that?” Eve asks, shifting in her seat.
The men close the gap between us.
James winks at me, wearing a secret smile. His guest nods softly, greeting me as well.
Eve looks at them, mesmerized.
I push the chair back and rise while James makes the introductions.
“Eve Malone. This is my business partner, David Moore.”
Eve’s hand connects with David’s, the new development taking me completely by surprise.
Business partner? When did he...?
James swings his gaze to me.
“You remember my wife, Rain...” he says, stifling any trace of innuendo.
“Rain,” David says, grinning.
“David.”
I offer him my hand.
He squeezes it gently before pulling me into a hug. I kiss him on his cheek.
“You look great,” he says.
“You too.”
James pulls the chair out for me before taking a seat while David sits next to Eve.
Her eyes twinkle with a smile.
Within seconds, the waitress shows up, and we order food and more drinks before the woman saunters away.
“How did you two get into business together?” I ask the question that’s been burning my lips.
My eyes swing back and forth between James and David.
“James called me and arranged a meeting. It just happened that I was in New York, and we got together this morning.”
I swing my gaze to James, shooting him a questioning look.
“So, your trip to New York wasn’t entirely for me?” I ask.
“Yes, it was. But I planned to get together with David at some point, and I seized the opportunity.”
“Was it good?” I ask, placing my napkin over my lap.
They both look at me.
“Your meeting,” I clarify.
“Yes, it was,” James says, the sun dissolving in his eyes.
David’s lips move into a smile.
“How have you been?” I ask, locking eyes with him.
“I’ve been traveling a lot. For work, mainly.”
My eyes dip to his hand.
James catches the direction of my gaze.
“Married?” I ask.
He clicks his tongue.
“Nope.”
Eve’s eyes come to mine, filled with questions and dire warnings.
She wants me to cut it out, I guess. Her stern expression makes me smile.
I tear my gaze away from her.
“Are you back for good?” I ask, raising my eyes and looking at David.
“Yes. I moved to Colorado,” he says.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
My eyes swing between James and him.
“How did you two get to consider doing business together? Have you kept in touch with James all this time?” I ask David.
“We met in Singapore a few weeks ago,” James says.
I shift my eyes to David.
“Are you still doing business in Asia?” I ask.
“Sometimes, yeah. But most of the time, I’m here. How about you? Are you still writing books?”
“Yes. I’m releasing my sixth book. Life is good. I can’t complain.”
I sound odd as my eyes linger on his face.
He bears the same elegance that struck me a few years back when we met. And has the same mysterious air about him.
My gaze stays on him as my mind goes adrift, and it’s only moments later, when he catches me staring at him, that I peel my eyes away.
The food arrives within moments, and our conversation shifts to other topics. We chat about international traveling, the real estate market, politics, and money.
We leave the restaurant an hour later.
David heads to his hotel. Eve goes home while James and I return to our place.
It’s our last evening together before he flies to Monaco, and I go home, so I’m set to make the best of it.
But I still have questions.
“What’s the deal with David Moore and you getting into business together?” I ask as we walk into the penthouse and enter the living room.
“It makes good business sense,” he says, fixing himself a drink.
“I had no doubt,” I say, lowering myself onto the sofa.
Grinning, he evades my eyes and cuffs up his sleeves.
He brings his drink to his lips and takes a swig, studying me.
I wait.
“His business is huge,” he says, taking a seat next to me.
I pivot to face him and fold a leg under me.
He sets his drink on the table and opens several buttons before lifting his arms and running his hands through his hair.
His pecs bulge, iron-hard beneath his shirt, as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“He invested a lot of money in the Asian market,” he starts in a low, paced voice. “And he has a lot of connections. He’s doing well. He tripled his wealth since his divorce. On the other hand, I hit a snag in that part of the globe, so we struck a deal. He put his money into my business, and I made him a partner. I’m no longer pressed by time, and from this point on, he’ll be my man in that part of the world while I can finally focus on the European headquarters and have more time to spend with you,” he says quietly.
Smiling.
I study his profile before leaning closer, winding my arms around his neck, and kissing him.
On his cheek at first, and then his lips.
“I’m so happy I’ll spend more time with you these coming weeks.”
His eyes glint with an affectionate smile, his gaze dipping to my lips.
“Me too.”
I look down for a moment.
He brings his hand to my face, prompting me to raise my eyes.
His lips tilt into a grin before he wraps his arm around me and pulls me even closer. His lips meet mine in a soft kiss just as his cell begins to ring.
We break the kiss.
He fishes his phone out of his pocket and glances at the screen.
It’s an international phone number.
He answers the call.
“Yes?”
The sound of static travels to my ears.
“Hello?” he asks again, his hand slackening on me.
He tears the phone away from his ear to take another look at the number when we both hear a female voice.
“James?”
The blood drains from his face.
He straightens, his hand falling off me.
“Who is this?”
The woman murmurs a name I can’t make out.
His face looks even paler.
“Where did you get this number?”
The woman’s response comes after a pause.
“And where exactly are you?” he asks again.
He leaps from the sofa, tense.
A few strides take him away from me, removing any possibility of catching the woman’s words.
“Uh-huh... Yes. No.”
His words come fast, wrapped in anger.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
A pause ensues.
“Are you okay?” he continues.
More words flow from his cell.
“When?” James asks.
The woman’s answer is brief before he talks again.
“I’ll get on a plane tonight.”
My heart flip-flops in my chest.
“When?” he mutters. “Uh-huh. Okay. I’ll be in Monaco for a few days, then travel to London and Prague. End of the week, maybe?”
The woman replies.
“Okay. I’ll see you then,” he says curtly before hanging up.
For a few moments, he stares blankly at his phone, his jaw locked.
My apprehension grows.
“Who was that?” I ask.
He still looks down.
“Theresa Malcolm-Sexton.”
A bad feeling rams through me.
He slowly turns around, a bitter grin creasing his lips.
“My mother,” he says, looking at me with vacant eyes.