Chapter 10
Xander
“So there is no man I need to threaten?” I ask seriously, and Lottie snorts.
“Stay away from my dates. It’s bad enough I have my dating life monitored by the rest of this family.” Her eye roll comes through in the tone in her voice. “Besides, you would have to be here to threaten anyone.”
She got me there. “Just be careful, and don’t trust—”
“Men like you, Lex?” she quips. Only Lottie calls me Lex, a childhood habit.
“I’m a good catch.” I walk out of the elevator and nod my greetings to our receptionist.
“If she wants to catch STDs.” Lottie snorts.
“I’m perfectly safe, Lottie. And right now, I’m not thrilled I called you,” I grumble, entering my office and turning on the screens.
“Aw, brother, did I hurt your feelings?” she sing-songs, and I snort, shaking my head. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you skillfully avoiding my suggestions about being here to be able to threaten anyone.”
I stop at the window wall behind my desk and let my gaze trace the Manhattan skyline, sighing. “I live and work in New York, Lottie. I’m busy.”
“Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, building your own empire, blah, blah… The excuses are old by now; even you couldn’t possibly believe them anymore.”
“It’s not an excuse.” I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“I call bullshit. Mom misses you terribly.”
The wave of guilt sweeps through me, like always when my sister brings up Mom. “Lottie…” I sigh.
“Look, Lex, I know Dad has been trying to reach you. I think enough time has passed for you to grow some balls and stop hiding.”
Fuck.
“When you put it like that…” I grumble.
“So you will take his call?”
“I don’t think I will, but I will be in San Francisco soon, and you and me can grab lunch.”
“Really?” Her excitement hits me right in my solar plexus. Fuck, I miss her. I miss them.
“Only if you promise not to tell anyone.”
She remains silent for a few beats. “I promise, under duress.”
I laugh. “Let the record show I did not pressure the witness.”
“Agree to disagree. I miss you, bro, so I will play by your rules, but that doesn’t mean I agree with them.”
“Duly noted. I’ll call you later this week.”
“Wait, don’t go yet. You made me spill the beans about my dating life, and you didn’t share shit.”
“There is nothing to share. I haven’t been out with anyone in weeks.” If I don’t count the woman who stubbornly pushes me away. The only woman I want to go out with.
What?
I want to go out with her? When did I upgrade my interest from the bedroom? Fuck.
“Don’t tell me you are now avoiding human contact like Liam?”
Our brother has been chronically anti-social for the past ten years. Not in a dramatic way—just slowly shutting everyone out like it became his hobby.
“No, I’m just not interested lately.”
“Oh my God, you met someone!”
How did she get that from my generic answer? “No. Yes. Kind of.”
“And you’re stuttering. I hit the nail on the head. Who is she? Is it serious? Do I know her?”
“Stop with the twenty questions. There is nothing to share. She is not interested.”
The last time I felt like a failure was before my self-inflicted exile from San Francisco. It’s infuriating that the less I score with Cora, the more I want to win. At this point, I don’t even know if it’s an attraction or just petulance.
Somewhere, deep down, I feel her rejection is half-hearted, based on some bullshit she made herself believe.
She wants me, and I want to show her she doesn’t have to deny herself. It feels—let’s face it, I don’t know enough about her life—like she’s been denying herself a lot.
“I want to meet her.” Lottie sounds annoyingly excited.
“Did you hear I say she is not interested?”
“That’s why I want to be her friend.” She practically squeals with delight. “I wish she lived here.”
“That’s just cruel, Lottie.”
She gasps. “You really like her.”
I’d like to bury myself in her, breathe Cora’s scent until I’m high on it, touch her until she is desperate for more, claim her until she screams my name. That’s what I’d like to do.
“I have to go, Lottie; I’ll talk to you later.” I disconnect the call before she can interrogate me further.
Someone knocks, and I whip around, plastering a smile on my face as if I were in the mood for visitors.
Lindsay sticks her head in the door. “Would you like me to get you lunch before the partner’s meeting?”
“No, thank you. I’m going to hit the gym.”
I get changed and take the stairs to the gym on the upper level of the building. After a few sets of chest presses, deadlifts, and squats, my foul mood improves slightly.
Wrong answer, young man.
Only because she didn’t let me finish. She is more than a challenge. But what was I going to say anyway? That I can’t stop thinking about her? That her freckles and curls are on my mind all the time?
That I like even the exhaustion lines on her face, and I wish I could wipe them away. That seeing her relax is like a gift. Like, for the first time in my life, I draw joy from making someone laugh, relax, be carefree.
And all of that is made even more infuriating because it comes in a sexy package that makes my balls swell.
I wouldn’t have told her any of this. I know it’s just my infatuation throwing tantrums because it can’t get a toy.
But I wonder if, at this point, I’m still trying to win with Cal or to win the girl.
Because the yearning remains. The need to conquer her is stronger than ever before.
Who am I kidding? I’ve never felt a pull this powerful. It must be her resistance. Because at the end of the day, she is right. We’re from different worlds, different backgrounds.
Perhaps it is the novelty of her world.
Whatever it is, I don’t think I will shake it until I have her. This interest must be quenched somehow, and then I can move on.
Or perhaps I can turn the challenge around. What if I win in resisting her? That must be it.
After I finish my workout, I head to the partners’ meeting.
We always meet in Cormac’s office, as if we didn’t have boardrooms. But then he hoards the best vintage Macallan, so I don’t mind invading his space.
His door is open, so I walk right in and find him with a visitor. “Oh, Saar, how are you? Did you come to make sure his muzzle is well fastened?”
Corm’s wife laughs. “I wouldn’t want him to bite anyone. It’s just messy.”
“I’m right here,” Corm scoffs.
Saar kisses his cheek. “You’re right, darling, you need to put them on shorter leashes, so they learn respect.”
Corm rolls his eyes, smirking. “Okay, off you go, woman, before you completely destroy my team’s morale.”
“What morale?” Roxy walks in.
Saar laughs. “Roxy for President.”
“I have better things to do.” Roxy sits in her usual armchair, swinging her legs over the armrest.
“Okay, I’m out of here.” Saar gives Corm another peck. “Make sure Ed Reynolds shows up.”
“Jesus, he said he’d be there. I’m not a dating service.” He walks Saar to the door, his hand caressing her lower back.
“Are you setting up Ed Reynolds?” Roxy rubs her hands. “With whom? I need details.”
“With my friend Cora,” Saar says cheerfully, sends everyone an air kiss, and leaves.
“Where is Caleb?” Corm asks as the latter walks in, his hair still damp from the shower.
“I’m here.” He sits down.
The entire exchange is happening while I’m standing rooted. Ed fucking Reynolds is a boring tech guy whose firm is two stories down from ours and covers our IT needs. What on earth does he want with Cora Winslow?
And why would she refuse me and then go on a date with that clown? The fucking Quinns are setting it up? What the hell?
“Are you just going to stand there?” Corm raises his eyebrows, all my colleagues eyeing me with various degrees of puzzlement.
“I have a solution for the Chicago issue,” I say, and sit beside Caleb. “Is Declan dialing in?” I dive right into the meeting, hoping it will stop my blood from boiling and help my mind refocus.
“He won’t be dialing in today,” Roxy informs us. Declan left for London. To win his woman, and help with the Merged branch there.
All my colleagues have settled down. When did that happen? We were all blissfully single when we started this firm not even two years ago. And suddenly, I’m an outsider.
“Do you care to share?” Corm growls when I don’t speak. I snap back into work mode, but barely focus on projects while the image of Cora and Ed together flickers through my mind.
I explain my take on the Chicago project and try to answer all concerns, but it’s an uphill battle. All the pent-up energy I worked out in the gym is back in a full-blown attack of nerves.
“What about the…” Corm turns to Caleb, and I tune them out.
She thinks she can date?
“Why are you setting up Ed Reynolds?” I spit out, before I can stop myself.
Silence follows as the three people around me stare, Roxy hiding her grin behind her notebook.
“The IT Ed Reynolds?” Caleb asks, puzzled. “What setup?”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
What is wrong with me? At this rate, I would have been better off not getting up this morning.
I played racquetball with fucking IT Ed a few times, and now I seriously regret not smashing the ball into his face. Multiple times. That would take him off the market.
“Saar—God bless her—strong-armed Corm into setting up a date between Cora Winslow and Ed,” Roxy drawls, glee practically oozing from her voice.
“I wish I had time to play matchmaker.” Caleb rolls his eyes.
“I got pulled in.” Corm shrugs. “They set up some system to send her on a date at least twice a week, and I had to bring all the single men I know to the table.”
What the actual fuck? She is going to date at least twice a week? “Did you put my name in?”
Corm scoffs. “She is one of my wife’s best friends, so no.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I glare at him.
“That I’m one step closer to winning twenty K.” Caleb chuckles.
“There is a bet I don’t know about?” Roxy turns to him.
“Enough,” Corm snaps, annoyance rolling off his shoulders as he cracks his neck. “Where do we stand with the Vireon board appointment?”