14. Daniel
DANIEL
My favorite time of day.
Time to check in with Scarlett.
In my office, I flip open the laptop screen, settle in at my desk, then start a video call to my business partner in Paris.
She answers a few seconds later, her beautiful face filling the screen, her wavy brown hair spilling along her shoulders, her elegant yet still sexy sleeveless blouse revealing just a hint of décolletage.
Just the way she likes to look.
Professional, but feminine, with just a touch of something more.
“Hello, stranger.” Her stunning eyes are etched with mischief. That’s how she is. Such a feline.
I lean back in the comfy leather chair. “Good morning to you, Scarlett.”
She arches a well-groomed brow. Everything about Scarlett is well-groomed and deliciously put together, never a hair out of place. “Did you lose track of time again, darling? You do know that it’s nearly wine o’clock here?”
I park my hands behind my head. “Isn’t it always wine o’clock where you are?”
A soft chuckle falls from her pink lips. “That’s certainly true. We love our brasseries and big fat glasses of wine, but you know that.”
“Of course I know that. I haven’t been away that long. And I’m sure you miss me terribly.”
She pouts, all over-the-top and insanely sexy. “Terribly.”
Stretching an arm out of view of the screen, she reaches for something on her desk, perhaps a book to tuck into her purse. “I’m about to meet some clients at Abelard on Rue Violet.”
“Stab me in the heart, why don’t you? That’s my favorite spot on my favorite street.”
“Shall I lift a glass in your honor? Give a toast to my dear friend Daniel, who can’t join us because he’s having far too much fun in Vegas?”
“Who said I was having fun?” I counter.
She rolls her eyes. “You always do.” She drops a paperback into her purse, just as I suspected, then stands, smoothing a hand over her blouse, giving me an enticing peek at just the tops of her breasts.
My eyes follow her every move, enjoying the way her delicate hand runs over the silk of her clothes.
“Don’t you look lovely for your wine meeting. ”
“Are you jealous about who’s going to see me tonight?” she tosses back at me.
Leaning farther back in my chair, I steeple my hands in front of me.
“You know jealousy is not an emotion I’ve ever experienced,” I say, but that’s not true.
That is, in fact, a horrid lie. I experience it all too often in the most inconvenient ways.
And at the worst of times. Briefly, I catch sight of the scar that runs across my hand, and I tear my gaze away from the jagged mark, zeroing in on the woman in front of me instead.
She rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “Yes, of course. You’re so magnanimous, never jealous, always eager to share .
Speaking of . . .” She lets her voice trail off, her lovely eyes going wide and inquisitive.
It’s been a few days since I last spoke with her.
But she knew what my plans were. Played her own part in them. “How did your plans go?”
“I would say they went swimmingly. Also, hello. Your plans.”
She deals me a skeptical glance. “They were mostly yours.”
“They were definitely yours too, love.”
“But it was your idea.”
“And you loved the idea. You said, if memory serves, ‘Ooh, that sounds brilliant and perfect for him,’” I counter.
“Because you’re such a matchmaker, it’s hilarious. I simply couldn’t resist giving you my seal of approval.”
“You’re a matchmaker too.”
She brings her hand to her chest, acting all innocent. “ Moi? ”
I nod vigorously, pointing at her. “ Vous. ”
“Daniel,” she chides. “I just happen to know what’s good for the men in my life, and I want to make sure they’re happy. When you told me your plans, I saw a chance for Cole to be happy again.”
“Oh, so does that mean you’re going to matchmake me next?”
She waves a hand dismissively. “You? Please. You’re impossible. You would never settle down with anyone.”
Is that true?
I decide it is.
It’s absolutely true.
I can’t and I won’t settle down.
I wouldn’t be able to.
The only thing that’s fulfilled me since I lost what I value most is detaching myself, rather than attaching myself.
But it’s fun to play with her. Playing is the balm to loss. Playing is the cure-all. “And why would I want to settle down? What’s enjoyable about that?”
She shrugs, shouldering her handbag. “Some people supposedly like it.”
“Not people like you and me.”
Her eyes lock with mine, her gaze going pensive, as if she understands me completely, but I’m not sure anyone can, or that I’d let anyone. “And I suppose that’s true,” she says.
We chat for longer, catching up on business matters for a few minutes, then she asks when I’m returning to the City of Lights. “Scarlett, does that mean you miss me?”
“Of course I miss you. Nothing is the same without you.” She pouts her lips, bringing them closer to the camera. My God, those lips look so thoroughly kissable that if I saw her, I would have a hard time resisting them. “I just don’t know how to run a hotel without a man around.”
“See? You’re just like me. You don’t need a man just like I don’t need a woman.”
“But somebody does,” she says, her eyes meeting mine pointedly. “Give me the details. Does he know she’s his mystery woman?”
A grin takes over my face. Perhaps a wicked one. Machinations have a way of doing that to a person. “I have a feeling he learned who it was this morning, because he had a meeting with her,” I say.
A second later, the man in question strides into the office. I swivel around the computer screen. “Cole, why don’t you say hi to our darling friend, Scarlett?”
They chat briefly, then Scarlett tosses out, “I really think the operative question, Cole, is . . . how is Sage Carmichael?”
And there it is. The truth of the tryst the other night. The tryst Scarlett and I maybe possibly engineered.
“How’s Sage?” the normally unflappable Cole, repeats.
Scarlett waves from the screen. “Yes. Tell me everything.”
His brow knits. He stares hard at the screen. “Why are you asking?”
“Oh, no reason. Now I’m off to go have some wine and make some deals. See you gentlemen later.” She blows a kiss and then turns off the call.
Cole tilts his head, looks at me, and lets out a curious sigh. “Why did she just say that?”
I shrug with an I’ve got no idea grin. That’s answer enough.
“Were you engineering things?”
I crack my knuckles. “Just because I happen to know what’s good for you doesn’t mean I engineered it, now does it?”
He parks his hands on his hips. “Did you?”
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”
“Why would you do that?” He sounds mildly annoyed, but also mildly not.
I strip away the light mood, the banter. I shove off the games we play. Because this is serious in its own way. “Because I happen to think she’d be good for you. I’ve read about her. I know about her. And you haven’t been the same since Georgia.”
He sighs like it comes from the depths of his dark soul. He shuts the door, then sinks down onto the couch. “Daniel. You don’t have to keep making up for that. I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”
That’s what he thinks. But I know better. “You say that, but . . .”
He shakes his head. “Nothing is going to happen with Sage. It can’t. She’s the competition.”
I give him a quick once-over. Some things are obvious, from the less than perfect hair to the satisfied glint in his eyes.
I tap my chin like a detective. “And yet all the clues add up to ‘you just fucked her.’”
He shakes his head, laughing. “How is it that nothing ever gets past you?”
“I’m so good at reading people. It’s one of my many skills. Admit it—you had a little morning sex fiesta in her office. You’re unstoppable,” I say.
“Okay, yes. Moving on. Let’s talk about anything else.” He shifts to intense speed, cranking the gas pedal. “I have a new idea. I want to try to get Max and Alex.”
“The magicians. They’re fantastic,” I say, liking that idea, and we zoom into all-business mode.
After we make some calls and agree to put together a pitch, Cole heads to the door, then glances back at me. “So you threw the bet?”
“What if I did?”
“You should play fair and square.”
“Then we should play again,” I suggest, dangling that tidbit in front of him. He won’t be able to resist.
He shakes his head. “Won’t happen. Can’t happen. Definitely a bad idea.”
And with that three-times-no, he gives himself away. “Methinks the gentleman doth protest too much.”
He flips me the bird and walks out, but I know he’s bluffing.