3. Graham
GRAHAM
A nother day, another meeting.
More stress.
All the while, my mind wandered.
The man I’ve been meeting with, Harland Porter, is throwing up roadblock after roadblock to the sale. Concern after concern. Question after question. I don’t know why he put the damned property up on the market if he’s so obsessed with it.
I’m not obsessed with any property like that.
Although, my mind drifting once again, I’m a bit concerned I may be becoming obsessed with Madelyn.
Obsession has no place in a deal like that.
I can’t stop thinking about her. It was one fuck, so it shouldn’t mean anything. I’m the one who was in charge of the situation. I could’ve offered anything and I offered that deal, and she wanted it. I run my hand over the back of my neck as Harland drones on and my business associates answer.
It takes great effort to keep my expression stern and unmoving as my thumb runs over the tip of my pointer and I imagine her soft skin and delectable moans.
Years ago, I thought that being filthy rich would solve all my problems. It hasn’t. It solved some of them, that’s for sure. I won’t ever have to worry about losing my house or being on the street. I won’t ever be in the position of begging someone for rent money.
Those concerns are far behind me, and the ones that are ahead have much higher stakes. People work for me now. People depend on me. Which means it’s not just me I have to think about when it comes to making these deals.
It might be easier if I had something to take the edge off.
Something real and constant in my life other than my penthouse apartment.
What my apartment has going for it is that it’s predictable.
It’s expensive and luxurious, decorated exactly to my taste, and nobody else ever interferes.
It offers me privacy and an escape. But it’s hollow and far too quiet.
For the second time this week, I catch myself thinking about what it would be like to come home to someone, not just some place .
Not a wife. I can’t imagine marriage. And not a girlfriend…I’m not interested in complications and emotions.
All that is a distraction. I know what happens to men who fall too deep into finding that missing someone.
Statistics on love and marriage are far too telling.
The majority of people never find ‘the one’ and end up alone.
Half of those who do take the leap into love end up unhappy and broke after divorce.
“Let’s take five?” Harland questions and the associates agree.
The computer screen shows them all nodding, and I agree to the short break.
Once the camera is off, I rub a hand over my face and lean back in my chair.
I click over the tabs to another long email chain.
We’ve been going back and forth for an hour.
Part of me wants to cut my losses and stop spending time trying to acquire a property that’s not truly available.
What would it say about me if I invested all this time and walked away with nothing? It would say that I wasn’t up to the challenge. It would say I could be deterred by a few annoying emails.
Nobody’s ever going to be able to say that about me. If they say anything, they’ll say that I was too determined. That I wouldn’t stop at anything to get what I wanted. If this business has taught me one thing it’s that patience is immeasurable.
I respond to Porter’s latest email and click over to the app for the building’s security system.
A window showing twelve small rectangles, each with the view from a separate camera, pops up on the screen.
This, unlike working on the acquisition, gives me a sense of peace.
I can see that everything is how it should be in the parking area.
A delivery man taps away at his tablet at the back entrance, then jogs back to his truck, climbs in, and drives away.
In the lobby, an older tenant chats with the doorman, who looks like he’s explaining something to her, his hands flying.
This is the place I’ve made through my money and my effort and my force of will.
I’ve built something to be proud of, something that runs smoothly and provides for others, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing else I want in my life.
It doesn’t mean I don’t have other goals.
My heart speeds up, stress spreading across my shoulders and back.
What I want is something physical—a trip to the gym or a run, something to let my muscles work.
What I want is Maddie.
How does she fit in to a life like mine? I can’t be the man who never gives up on anything if I want her and don’t go after her. I can’t be the man who goes after her and keeps his eyes on the prize at the same time.
It’s like she hears my thoughts, or the universe does, because the instant her name enters my mind, a woman walks into view of one of the security cameras.
It’s her, crossing the street to the building.
She tucks a lock of dark hair behind her ear and waits for traffic to stop.
Then she strolls into the sidewalk, looking gorgeous and elegant in heels and a dress that hugs her hips and shows off her collarbone with a square neckline that makes me want to stick my hand underneath it just to feel the softness of her skin.
Maddie is completely put together as she moves across the white painted lines on the road. She flashes the drivers in the cars a perfect smile and gives them a little wave to thank them for stopping.
I’m hard just looking at her. Out there, in public, she looks lovely and demure.
She is lovely and demure. But I know how she sounds when she’s bent over a piece of furniture and moaning for my cock.
I know how wet it makes her to come to filthy secret agreements with a man with money—very, very wet.
And fuck , it’s hot. That damned voice in my mind tries to remind me that there’s so much more than raw sexual desire.
There’s so much more I could give her beyond a few hundred dollars and a quickie.
I’m not going to go there right now. I take a deep breath and adjust myself in my pants. A more decent guy would turn off the security app, but I’m not exactly interested in being a decent man when it comes to this situation.
Maddie strides into the building, smiles at the doorman, and says something to him.
My brow creases as a touch of possessiveness overwhelms me.
It’s unexpected and my finger hovers on the key to turn the camera off.
Tom is a trustworthy man, otherwise I wouldn’t have hired him, but another man’s eyes on her makes my stomach knot with jealousy.
I can’t even be jealous. She’s not mine.
She’s just beautiful and holds a spark I haven’t felt from anyone else.
If there was a woman waiting for me in my apartment at the end of every day, I’d want her to be Maddie.
Fuck . I can’t think like that. What we have isn’t anything long-term or deep, no matter how much I think I want that.
I dig my fingernails into the arm of my office chair to keep myself in the damn seat. Maddie has every right to walk into the lobby of my building, where she lives, and talk to the doorman. She has every right to talk to whoever she wants. She doesn’t belong to me.
Just when I’ve finally fucking lost it and started to get up from the chair, Maddie turns away from the reception desk. For a split second, I can see her face before she heads for the elevators. The kind smile that she wore into the lobby drops away into a worried frown.
I pause. Concern spreading through my veins.
What’s that about?
My computer pings with a message that the meeting has ended. I click over to the meeting tab. Harland apologizes but something has come up and he’ll email once he’s available again. Irritation spreads through me but I remind myself: patience.
I click both windows closed, get up from my seat, and go to the floor-to-ceiling window.
My only thoughts are of Madelyn and how to approach her again.
It was expression on her face. There’s no way I can tell her I was watching her on the cameras—that would be an invasion of privacy, and she’d never want to fuck me again.
Which isn’t the only thing I’m worried about.
I’m worried about her . I’m worried that some serious problem worries her. I don’t care for it.
As I stare down at the bustling streets, I debate on how to handle her. I can go knock on her door and make sure everything’s fine. Maddie came to me with a problem. It would be a gentlemanly thing to do to check in.
There’s a quiet knock at the door. “Mr. Maxwell?”
“Yes?”
It’s my secretary, Miss Dawning. Her expression is slightly hesitant, the wrinkles around her eyes even deeper than normal.
“There’s someone here to see you. She doesn’t have an appointment, but I told her I’d see if?—”
“Who is it?”
“Madelyn Cunnigham.”
“Of course. Send her in.”
“Oh!” My secretary blinks. No doubt surprised. I typically hate unscheduled meetings and simply decline. “Of course, Mr. Maxwell. Right away.” As she closes my office door, she holds the lone pearl dangling from her gold necklace over her white blouse, an amused look on her face.
A moment later, my secretary leads Maddie into my office. Maddie flashes her that same bright smile she used when she was crossing the street, then looks at me. The smile gets smaller…and hotter. Pink spreads across her cheeks. Her doe eyes take on a sensual heat.
This isn’t how she looked at the doorman.
I can’t help the pull of an asymmetrical grin at the sight of her reaction.
“Hello, Maddie.” The scent of her perfume has already spread lightly across the office. “I’m surprised to see you here during business hours.” The camera didn’t do her justice. She’s even more beautiful in person. My grip tightens on the desk as she makes her way in.
She laughs, a little nervously. “I just finished some errands, and you’re my next stop. Do you have a few minutes?”