15. Sutton
Chapter fifteen
Sutton
I reread the email I drafted to Anders Cunningham last night after work, trying to decide whether it sounds good or if I need to tweak something. I’m sure I’ve spent more time than necessary on it, but I want to make a good first impression.
Hello Anders,
My name is Sutton St. James. My friend Madison Rhodes works with your wife, Caroline, and passed along your email address. I wanted to speak with you about selling a small chain of hotels here in Florida.
I’m happy to share more details over a phone or video call if you’re interested.
Thank you,
Sutton St. James
It’s good enough. A little awkward, but fine.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt before hitting the Send button.
My heart races as I stare at the screen.
Get a hold of yourself, Sutton. He’s probably an extremely busy man, and it’ll take time for him to respond.
I force myself to close my inbox and open up the press release I need to read and approve announcing the team’s auction for the local children’s hospital.
“Hey,” Hadley says as she strolls into my office and plops down in the seat across from me.
“What’s up?” I tear my eyes away from the document and focus on my friend.
“Wanted to see how you were feeling. How things are going. Becca said you found a dress?”
Becca and I went dress shopping on Friday, and apparently it was my lucky day, because I found a dress in my size that I loved at the second place we went.
“I did, and since it just needed a few minor alterations, it should be ready tomorrow afternoon.”
“Good, good.”
“Perfect, you’re both here,” Becca says as she steps into my office.
“Sutton was filling me in on her dress,” Hadley says.
“You’re gorgeous in it,” Becca gushes. “Sebastian is going to lose his mind.”
I blush. “It’s not real between us, remember.”
“Well, it might be after he sees you in your dress,” Becca says.
“Do you like him that way? Do you want it to be real?” Hadley asks.
“I do,” I admit.
“So why did you turn him down all the times he asked you out?” Hadley asks.
“It’s complicated.” I fiddle with the pen on my desk. “Call it childhood trauma.”
Hadley and Becca exchange glances.
“What do you mean?” Becca asks.
I pick up the pen and twirl it between my fingers. “My father and all the men in his circle use their money to control people. I never wanted that.”
“So you didn’t want to date Sebastian because he’s got money, and you associate having money with control?” Becca asks.
Got it in one. “Yep.”
“But you know Sebastian and all the other guys on the team. None of them would do that. None of them are like that,” Hadley says.
“I know.” I finally look up, giving them a sad smile. “Call it a defense mechanism, a security blanket, I don’t know.” I toss the pen down onto the desk. “It was just easier to stick to the vow I made to myself, not to marry anyone rich, than to take the risk.”
“The risk being dating Sebastian?” Hadley asks.
“Basically.”
“But what if he’s your one?” Becca asks.
“Guess we’ll never know.”
“You could date him now. I’m sure he’d want to,” Hadley says.
I bark out a laugh. “I’m pregnant and not with his baby.”
Hadley snorts. “Try again because I’m sure he doesn’t care. He’s clearly smitten with you.”
I shake my head, rubbing my stomach. “No one uses the word smitten anymore, Hads.”
“Regardless. He likes you, and you like him. What am I missing?” Hadley asks.
“Nothing.” It’s not my place to tell them that he’s leaving at the end of the season. “It’s just a lot.” I gesture around.
It’s not a lie. It is a lot—first finding out I’m pregnant, then my apartment flooding and moving in with Sebastian, and now the whole getting married so I can get my inheritance thing.
Hadley opens her mouth, probably to ask more questions, but Becca jumps in.
“We can understand that. Right, Hads?” Hadley nods. “Just promise us you won’t write off the possibility of you two being together.”
“I won’t.” Not that I think it’s going to happen, but I suppose you never know.
“Good. So the real reason I came in here was to find out if you have any food aversions. Any things you can’t stand the smell of? So we make sure not to have them at the party,” Becca says.
“Eggs.” I crinkle my nose. The smell of eggs still makes me nauseous, and it’s a shame because I love them. “And raw meat.” I barely hold back a gag. “Not that we’ll have raw meat just hanging around at the party.”
“Noted,” Becca says, scribbling in her notebook. “Anything you crave that we should make sure to have?”
“Fresh fruit, specifically berries.” I pause, holding up a hand. “And now I’m craving some.” I wonder if I have time to run to Publix to grab one of their bowls of cut up fruit. Any fruit will do at this point, except honeydew melon, those are gross, but otherwise, give me all the fruit.
“Sorry.” Becca grimaces. I wave her apology away, not her fault. “I think that was all my questions.” She looks at the notebook in her hand. “So it’s the three of us, Madison, Aubrey, and Ansley.” She glances up at me. “Anyone else you want me to invite?”
“I was going to invite my friend Holly.”
“Sounds good,” Becca says. “Anyone else?”
“Nope.”
“If you think of anyone else or anything else you want or don’t want to eat, let me know.” Becca gets to her feet. “I have to go do treatment on one of the guys, but let me know if you want me to go with you to pick up your dress.” With a wave, she leaves my office.
“I should go too,” Hadley says, standing. “Lunch soon?”
“Sure.”
When Hadley’s closed the door behind her, I turn back to my computer and find an email back from Anders.
Sutton,
Yes, Caro mentioned your name. Very interested. Call me: 555-122-6678 anytime.
- A
I read the email one more time before checking my calendar to make sure I don’t have any meetings in the next hour and then dialing Anders.
“Anders Cunningham.”
“Hi.” My voice comes out in a squeak, and I quickly clear my throat and try again. “Hi, Anders, this is Sutton St. James, we—”
“Sutton. How are you?”
“I’m good. Thank you for responding to my email so quickly.”
“Of course. Of course. It piqued my curiosity. Madison shared a few details with my wife.”
“That’s great to hear.” I shift in my seat. “I should mention that my father is Jonathan Jefferson.”
He’s silent for a few seconds, then he laughs. “Tell me more.”
“First of all, he and I have no relationship. I’m sure he’s going to be furious when he finds out about this, but quite frankly, I don’t give a shit.”
“I like you,” he says.
I like you too. Something about his tone and how he speaks is reassuring. Which is odd given how I usually feel about billionaires, especially those in the hotel industry. But here we are.
“Thanks. There are a few formalities I have to go through first before I inherit these hotels. So there’s a chance it could all fall through.” I lean back in my chair, resting a hand on my stomach, something I find myself doing a lot lately.
“Understood. I’ll be frank with you. We are interested in acquiring them. We’ve been wanting to expand our presence in Florida for a while, and this is a great stepping stone.”
How is this just working out?
“That’s great to hear.”
“How about this, once you take ownership, let’s talk again. Come up with an amount you want for them, and we can talk. Off the record, we’re willing to pay handsomely, so don’t lowball yourself.”
I blink a few times. Well, damn. “Sounds good.”
“Let’s keep this between us, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.”
“You have my number, and if there’s anything I can do, recommend a good lawyer, answer any questions, don’t hesitate to reach out. Send me a text, an email, call me. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“Thank you, Anders.”
“You have a good day, Sutton.”
“You too. Bye.”
Surprisingly, that went easier than I was expecting it to.
I grin. I can’t help it. Now all I have to do is get married to Sebastian.
The guy I think I’m falling for. I tuck my phone back into my top drawer and go back to the press release I was reviewing earlier.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock on my door.
I look up. “Yes?”
Sebastian pokes his head in. “You busy?”
“Nope.” I gesture for him to come in.
He steps into my office with a Publix bag in his hand, which he sets on my desk. “For you.”
I reach into it and take out a bowl of mixed fresh fruit. “How did you know?”
He sits in the chair on the other side of my desk. “A little birdie told me you were craving fruit, so I ran over to Publix and got you some. There’s also a bag of your favorite chips in there, in case you were in the mood for those instead, and a chocolate bar.”
My heart skips a beat, and I swoon. I have the best friends and the best, well, whatever he is—fake almost husband, roommate. Why does our timing have to suck? He’s leaving at the end of the season. I sniffle, tears streaming down my face.
“What happened, love?” Sebastian jumps to his feet and hurries around my desk. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Sorry. Hormones,” I choke out. “You’re so nice to me. And for Becca or Hadley to tell you that, and you went out of your way …” I shake my head, overcome with emotions.
He gently pulls me to my feet and into his arms, and I melt against him as he runs a soothing hand down my back.
“It’s because we all care about you. I’d have driven wherever to get you whatever you wanted. It was no big deal. Publix is literally ten minutes away.”
“I’m sure you have other more important things to do than run errands for me.” I hiccup a sob.
“You’re more important than whatever else I might have to do.”
Fucking hell. Cue the waterworks even more. This man. How did I get so lucky? And why the hell did I say no to him when he asked me out all those times? Why did I ever think he’d have anything but my best interest at heart? How did I screw up so badly?
“Shhhh.” He rocks me from side to side, rubbing my back.
I take a few breaths, willing myself to stop crying.
Finally, when I’ve pulled myself together, I sit back down, grabbing tissues from the box on my desk, grateful that I skipped mascara this morning.
I was too tired to do anything more than put on tinted moisturizer and blush before heading out the door.
Suddenly starving, I grab the bowl of fruit and a fork while he goes back to his seat.
“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” I tell him around bites of cantaloupe.
“Don’t worry about it. How’s your day going?”
I fill him in on the call with Anders as well as the reason I was talking about fruit.
He chuckles. “Yeah, the guys are throwing me a party, same night as yours. I told them not to, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
I take a bite of a strawberry, not missing how Sebastian tracks my movement, his eyes flaring with desire. No, there’s no way. I must be mistaken.
I shake myself out of my Sebastian induced blush.
It doesn’t matter, because at the end of the day, I’m pregnant, and my priority needs to be raising my baby the best I can. Doing whatever I need to give him or her a great future, which starts with marrying Sebastian and getting my inheritance.
Now, I just need to not fall any further for the man sitting across from me. Especially when said man is planning to move across the Atlantic to England in a few short months.