Chapter 19
Claire
I exhale heavily and stare at the spreadsheet on the computer screen in front of me.
I can’t believe I rejected Gabriel’s offer of help. What was I thinking?
Obviously ... I clearly wasn’t.
God. I pinch the bridge of my nose. This is a nightmare. We just lost the biggest advertising campaign we had, and it’s not getting any better. I’m going to have to let more people go this month.
Fuck’s sake ... we’re running on skeleton staff as it is.
I don’t know how we can possibly do what we have to do—and do it well—with the number of staff that we now have.
I put my head into my hands and let out a dejected sigh. This is hard. Harder than hard.
I don’t know what I’m doing. How the hell do I keep us above water for much longer?
If only Wade were here. He would know what to do.
He was the brains of our business. Give him a problem, and he could work out a way around it.
He saw problems as challenges or learning curves.
Nothing was too big an obstacle for him.
But he’s gone ... and now it’s just me.
God, I feel so out of my depth. I sit and stare at the computer screen for a long time.
Maybe if I stare at it long enough, the answer will come to me like magic.
What do I do?
What direction should I move in? I know something has to change ... but what?
Stop.
Stop being so negative. I can pull us out of this. I know I can.
Reconfigure a few processes, move a few accounts. Streamline the advertising again.
It will be okay ... it has to be.
Giving up this company is not an option.
I won’t go down without a fight, and damn it, it will be okay.
I’ll make damn sure of it.
My office door opens in a rush. “Just this way,” Marley says to someone.
A man comes through the door with the biggest bunch of red roses I have ever seen.
“Delivery for Claire Anderson.”
“That’s me,” I reply.
The roses have huge heads with a deep perfume and are in the most beautiful crystal vase. He places them down on my desk. “Sign here, please.”
I sign in the allocated box. “Thank you.” I smile broadly.
“You’re welcome. Although I have an admission. I didn’t buy them.”
Marley and I laugh. The joke isn’t funny, but we are so excited that we would laugh at anything, it seems.
With a kind nod, he leaves us alone, and I open the card.
I’ M A VERY HAPPY MAN TODAY .
# TOBELOVEDBYYOU
T RIS
xox
An over-the-top smile beams from my face, and Marley snatches the card from me.
She reads it, and her eyes rise to meet mine in confusion. “What does that mean?”
I roll my lips.
“To be loved by you.” She frowns.
I shrug.
Her eyes widen. “You love him?”
I give her a lopsided smile.
“You told him you love him?” She gasps.
I swing my chair back to my computer. “Yes, Marley. I admit it; I’m in love with Tristan Miles.”
She falls into a seated position on my desk and stares at me for a while in disbelief.
“Well ... holy fucking shit,” she says as she puts her hands on her hips. “I was not expecting that.”
“Me neither.”
“So ... what?” She stares at me for a moment as she tries to process the new information. “I mean, I knew you had that week of lunch fucks.”
I smile at her analogy. “Sounds so romantic when you put it like that.”
“You know what I mean.” She smirks. “But what happened then? And more importantly, why the fuck haven’t you told me about any of this?”
“I was just waiting to see what happened, and I didn’t want to jinx it.”
“Jinx it?”
“Well, sometimes when you put something out there, it doesn’t turn out how you expect it to.”
“So ... this is turning out?” She frowns in surprise.
“Oh, Marley,” I gush as I look at my beautiful flowers. “Tristan is just so ...” I search for the right words. “Funny and sweet and understanding, and he sleeps on the couch at my house out of respect for my kids.”
She screws up her face in disbelief. “Tristan Miles?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Tristan Miles, the arrogant, gorgeous playboy?” she repeats, as if not believing me.
I smile with a nod. “Yep, that’s him.”
She frowns at me. “I’m so confused. I thought he was a hot player who had excellent fucking capabilities.”
I laugh out loud. “He’s all of those things, but there’s more to him.” I read my card again.
I’ M A VERY HAPPY MAN TODAY .
# TOBELOVEDBYYOU
T RIS
XOX
“To be loved by you.” I hold the card to my chest.
And he is.
Marley smiles as she watches me, and finally she says, “I love seeing you like this.”
“Like what, all dreamy and starry eyed like a schoolgirl?”
“Happy.”
I smile softly. “Thanks. I really am.” I put the card carefully back into its envelope. I’ll keep it in a safe place with the other card from the last lot of roses he gave me.
Everything from Tristan is special.
“I’m meeting his family on Saturday night at a black-tie dinner,” I say.
“Oh jeez.” Her eyes widen. “What are you wearing?”
“No idea. This is my worst nightmare.”
“What do you have in your wardrobe?”
“Nothing. I haven’t bought an evening dress in years. What the hell do you even wear to a black-tie dinner these days?”
“We’ll go shopping. Don’t worry; we’ll find you something. You have to look amazing.”
“I know.” Nerves flutter in my stomach as I imagine meeting his parents and older brother, Jameson. I know their opinions are important to Tris. “I want to look understated sexy, not like mutton dressed up as lamb. Something age appropriate but not motherly.”
“Definitely,” Marley says as she thinks. “I’m going to google this.”
“Dress sense doesn’t come up on Google, Marley.”
“No, but stylists do.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
“I can’t afford a stylist.”
“What you can’t afford is to look like a bag of shit. This is his announcement to the world that you and he are together. It’s an important event, and everyone is going to be looking at you. Don’t worry; we’ll give her a strict budget to work with.”
I stare at her as I process her advice. “Do you think? Isn’t getting a stylist a bit over the top?”
“Claire, everyone in that ballroom is going to use a stylist, and besides, this is New York. Nothing is over the top. I got this. Leave it to me.”
I pull onto my street and see the black Aston Martin parked in my driveway, and I bite my lip to stifle my smile.
He beat me home.
Tristan Miles is at my house ... with my kids .
Wonders never cease.
I give a subtle shake of my head in disbelief as I go over the last few months. What a whirlwind.
I’ve gone from hating him to tolerating him to sleeping with him to loving him.
I pull into the driveway and park my car alongside his ... and I do love him.
Regardless of what happens in the future, I love Tristan. I can happily admit it now.
I walk in through the front door to the sound of oohs and aahs.
“Oh my God, Mom. Look at this,” Harry cries in excitement.
I turn the corner to see them all hunched over the dining table, a huge box front and center before them.
“Hello,” I call.
“Mom, look what Tristan got us,” Harry screams.
I haven’t seen him this excited in forever. “What?” I ask as my eyes flick to the gigantic box.
“The rocket ship model.” He gasps.
My mouth falls open. “The what?”
Harry reads the back of the box. “Holy hell, look at this,” he cries as he points to something on the back of the box.
I blink as I try to keep up with what is going on here. “Tris, that model is stupidly expensive.”
Tristan’s eyes rise to meet mine, and he gives me a slow, sexy smile. “Anderson.”
I smile as my stomach flips ... I know that tone, and I know that nickname.
“What have you done?” I ask.
“I bought Wiz a present.” He shrugs casually. “He won the bet fair and square and then didn’t get to eat cockroaches. It was only right that I pay up.”
I stare at him.
“And it’s for the other boys as well. We’re all going to do it together.”
The boys all smile broadly as they lean over the box and read it out loud.
“Take it out of the box and lay it all out in the colored numbers. Keep the pieces in their individual bags, though. I’m going to change my clothes,” Tristan says as he walks out into the living room.
The boys begin to chatter in excitement as they begin to open the box. “Get the scissors,” Harry directs.
I see something from the corner of my eye, and I turn to see Tristan giving me a come-here curl of his finger. I glance back to the boys to see that they are completely distracted, and I give him a subtle nod.
He disappears up the stairs to my bedroom, and I wait for a few moments. “I’m going to get the washing off the line,” I say, and then I go out the back door and walk around the front and come in the front door and sneak up the stairs.
I walk into my bedroom, and he pounces on me like a tiger. He flicks the lock on the door and pins me to the wall.
“Anderson,” he whispers darkly. His lips take mine.
I smile. “Hi.”
He grinds himself up against me, and I can feel that he’s hard. He holds my face as he kisses me deeply.
“You seem very pleased to see me.” I smile.
“Needy,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Needy for what?” I breathe.
He bites my neck. “I need to be fucked, Anderson ... and as my designated fuckee, you need to find a way to make that happen. Tonight.”
I smile as his hand goes to my behind, and he drags my body over his. His teeth graze my neck, and I smile up at the ceiling. He’s not joking; he really does need to be fucked. I can feel the need oozing out of him.
“How am I going to do that?” I whisper.
“I don’t know. Get creative.” He pushes me back against the wall hard, and my body weakens under his power.
“On the couch tonight—or in the laundry.” He kisses me again. “Fuck me in my car out on the street, for all I care. I just need you to fuck me.”
“Your car is too small,” I tease.
He grabs my behind aggressively and bites my bottom lip, and I whimper.
“Don’t dis the car.” With his eyes locked on mine, he bends and slides his hand up my thigh and through the leg of my panties. The backs of his fingers slide through my dripping wet flesh.