His Desire (Billionaire Blind Date Book 5) (2 page)

I squeezed the ring until the stones dug painfully into my hand. And then I threw it. It clinked against the mirror of my dresser and clattered onto the wood. A second later, a tiny piece of glass fell out of the mirror, where I’d chipped it. Part of me hoped the ring was damaged, too.

I would have preferred she sold it. I could have sent her to a jeweler who would have given her a more than fair price for it. After all, it had cost just shy of half a million dollars. Chump change for someone like me, but a tidy sum for a fake engagement ring.

She would have been set for a while with that kind of money. She’d had no idea how much it cost, probably thought several thousand dollars.

Wouldn’t most women have kept it and sold it, and been happy to have the money? The only thing Sophie had seemed to care about was how I answered her question.

And, of course, I hadn’t. I
couldn’t
. I couldn’t just say yes, come to dinner with me. Yes, stay the day. The night. Forever.

Because that would be foolish, and I would pay handsomely some day in the future, probably with both my heart and my bank account.

I sat on the edge of my bed and scoffed at myself. I’d actually considered buying a ring that went for $2 million, but then I told myself this was a fake fiancée, and that would be an idiotic thing to do. If I’d actually wanted her to marry me, though, I wouldn’t have hesitated to buy the better ring.

And she wouldn’t have liked it, because the main stone was enormous. It was even more ornate than the ring she’d just given back, and much further from the simple things she said she preferred.

But she could have sold it. And she didn’t. Because Sophie’s different.

Why was I still thinking about her? I had to stop this.

I cleaned up, got dressed, and decided to work to keep my mind off other things. Martha was dusting in my office, but I asked her to finish later. I sat down to look over the usual reports and projections for my core companies. Just the distraction I needed.

It didn’t work very well between tasks. But for a while I could concentrate with each individual report, make the calls I needed to, praise or express my disappointment in my managers as usual. Though I may have been a little harsh, because I’m reasonably sure I made two of my top men start to cry in those phone calls. And another one of my CEOs, Lynda Marsh, who had worked her way up from an intern and impressed me so much I put her in charge of a company, told me that I needed to check my attitude, because she could walk and get as much from a competing company. She did not cry, but pointed out just how good her results were.

I admired her more than before, and tried to be more level-headed after that.

I ended up talking to a bottle of scotch and growling at Martha when she checked to see if I’d gone.

***

I had dinner with Hollis on Friday, alone.

“Sophie’s not joining us?” he asked, when he stood to shake my hand as I approached the table.

“Not today,” was all I said.

Halfway through the meal, Hollis dropped his fork onto his plate, wiped his mouth and tossed the napkin onto the table. “You two are having trouble, aren’t you?”

“What?” I blinked at Hollis, probably looking as dumb as anything. I wasn’t used to being referred to as
you two
.

Hollis sighed. “I don’t mean to pry, but I’m not going to pretend not to be concerned. You look as miserable as Sophie sounded on the phone, so I know there must be trouble in paradise.”

“When did you talk to her?” I said, too quickly.

“Yesterday. And she put on a cheerful front, but I know women. Something was wrong.”

“We’ve . . . hit a snag.”
Broken up.
Why didn’t I just say broken up?

Hollis nodded sagely. “When I said I’d see her tonight, she said ‘I hope to see you soon.’ I didn’t think anything of it at the time.”

Admiration for Sophie’s cleverness filled me with pride. She’d gotten good at my particular brand of honesty.

“I trust you’ll work things out, Grant. You’d be a fool not to do whatever it took. I’ve never seen two people look at each other the way you do. More importantly, I have rarely ever seen a man look at a woman with such open adoration as you do.” He chuckled and raised his glass. “To you and Sophie. Better days ahead.” He didn’t wait for a toast, but threw his drink back and eyed me.

I wanted to laugh. The night he first saw us looking at each other, Sophie and I had only just met. There couldn’t have been anything special about the way I looked at her. Either Hollis was a hopeless romantic who didn’t know what he was talking about, or how I looked at her had truly given something away, something I hadn’t even been aware of yet.

Because I was good at saying things that weren’t quite the truth, but to fake a look like he was describing . . . not even I was that good a liar.

“We’ll see,” I said, because how else could I answer him without saying it was over? “But unfortunately . . . I don’t think things are going to work out between us.” The next breath I took didn’t come easy. My lungs tightened and barely let it in.

Hollis grumbled and began eating again. We set an appointment to sign the final paperwork on the sale. He was selling me the company that I’d been after for years.

And I couldn’t have cared less. 

Monday morning as I dressed to head for Holliscorp, my face felt dehydrated, my eyes dry, as if I’d cried out every bit of moisture my entire head had available. I had a slight headache, so I took three ibuprofen. And just when I thought I didn’t have a tear left in me, I glanced at the emerald pendant on my dresser—the only thing I hadn’t yet packed in the box to send back to Grant—and considered wearing it, like I had before.

I wiped my eyes and left the pendant there, which probably hurt worse than wearing it would have.

I took a cab, because I simply didn’t feel like driving in the city traffic. And when I walked in, Aten Hollis himself was there waiting with Jan. He frowned and took one of my hands in both of his. “Come in, my dear. Sit down.”

God, did I look that rough? I was here to present the final logo design, and he was looking at me as if I might crumple before I could even find the chair.

“How are you, Aten? Jan?” I asked, hoping to push on.

“We’re fine. Jan, could you excuse us a minute?”

“Of course.” Jan left like it wasn’t really her office, and Aten sat in the chair next to mine.

“Sophie, I wanted to let you know that I’ve been very impressed with your work.”

“Thank you so much. I’ve enjoyed working on this project. And, of course, I’m grateful for all the help you’ve given me.”

“You’re welcome. I think the future holds great things for you. And I’m sure we’ll be signing off on your design today, and Jan will be discussing some other ideas with you, if you’re interested in doing more work for Holliscorp?”

“Of course!” I supposed I could have sounded less eager, but what would have been the point in pretending?

Aten smiled broadly and leaned back in the chair. He crossed his legs. “How are you doing, outside your work, I mean? If I’m not prying, of course.”

“I’m . . . fine.” I laughed and gestured to my face, which must have been what he was talking about. “Oh, this. This is just . . . it’ll pass. Just . . . a blip. You know, watery eyes.” I waved it off. “I’ll be fine.”

Aten chuckled, but then leaned toward me and put his hand on my arm. “I admire your diplomacy, Sophie. And I want to respect your privacy. But I also want to make it clear in no uncertain terms that even though Grant introduced you to me, you have earned everything you get from Holliscorp. And anything that might occur between the two of you . . . it won’t affect your standing here.”

I let out a relieved breath. At least I wouldn’t have to pretend. “Thank you, Aten. I appreciate that.”

And then Aten pumped me for details in perhaps the most subtle way I’d ever been pumped for details, with questions that just skirted the issue and left plenty of openings for me to give more information away than I might have liked.  People say women are nosey and they gossip, but we’ve got nothing on Aten Hollis. Since he’d obviously spoken to Grant, I didn’t mind. But it still wasn’t easy to talk about, so I tried not to.

I nodded when Aten started out giving me relationship advice. After a few minutes, I put my hand up. I didn’t want to interrupt, but I couldn’t take it anymore.

“We’ve broken up, Aten,” I said, my voice raspier than I expected. “And it’s not easy for me right now. I appreciate your advice and concern, but if we could not—”

“Of course, of course!” he said, taking my hand. “I’m sorry, both that you’ve broken up and that I kept going on about it. Sometimes I just can’t help myself.” He stood and faced me, smiling, so I got up and squared my shoulders. He straightened his shiny blue tie. “Let’s go finish this project and get your mind on other things?”

“Sounds good to me.”

If he’d suggested we go roll around on hot coals, that probably also would have sounded like a better alternative than discussing what had happened with Grant.

***

During the next week, I ignored a call from Arlene and one from Aunt Carla. I did listen to the messages they left, both of them letting me know that Nance had forgiven her cheating fiancé, and after everything, they’d eloped. They were planning a reception-like party for everyone to come to celebrate with them, probably so they’d still get gifts.

I was in no mood for such an event, so I deleted the voice mails, and texted them both claiming laryngitis so neither would call to talk after hearing from me. Grant would have been disappointed in the obvious lie, but I went with what was easiest.

Grant
.

The box of clothes, purses, shoes and jewelry he’d given me still waited in the corner by the front door. I hadn’t really been out since I met with Hollis, and kept telling myself I’d take it next time.

I lay on my bed, laptop open next to me, a B horror movie about sharks playing. I hadn’t paid attention for a solid ten minutes, because Grant kept pushing his way into my thoughts.

Everything I did, didn’t do, said, thought or wanted reminded me of him. I was constantly seeing things through his eyes, imagining what he’d say or do, what expression he’d make. How he might shuffle me off somewhere public yet private and—

My phone buzzed where it lay against my laptop. I groaned, figuring it was Arlene or Aunt Carla, content to make me listen even if they thought I couldn’t talk. I picked it up, and it stopped buzzing in my hand.

Grant’s number glowed as a missed call.

I sat upright. And then it chimed, the indication that he’d left a voice mail. With a shaking hand, I pressed play.

“Sophie. I know you weren’t expecting to hear from me. I was hoping that you’d have dinner with me, so we could talk? I’ll send a car for you Wednesday night, 7 o’clock? I know that’s only two days . . . if you have plans, I would like to go another day, if that’s all right with you. Please, call me so we can discuss it.”

I stared at the phone. He’d sounded so businesslike, but he
was
inviting me to dinner.

Something inside me said to ignore the call. I didn’t want to get my hopes up only to be crushed again, and one way to protect against that was to ignore it or text him and decline. But I knew I couldn’t. I had to see him and hear whatever he had to say.

But I did manage to wait an hour before I called him back.

I’m rarely caught off-guard with nothing ready to say, but even though Sophie didn’t call back for a long time, I still wasn’t settled on the best way to begin the conversation. When I answered, I went with the first thing that came to me.

“Seven o’clock Wednesday’s good for you, or shall I change it?”

She didn’t say anything right away. I hadn’t meant to throw her off, but it might have seemed like it, in retrospect.

“I . . . yes, Wednesday’s fine. I was surprised to hear from you.”

“I know. But I would very much like to have dinner with you again.”

“I’d like that, too.” She sounded hesitant, and I wondered if there’d be a catch.

There was.

“Can it just be dinner? No touching me under the table, or locking us in the bathroom? Not that I didn’t enjoy those things—I did. But could this be just dinner and conversation?”

“Absolutely. We’ll go to Chanti’s. Just wear something tasteful that you’re comfortable in, anything you want.”

“Okay. How are you? I mean, after your uncle . . .”

“Oh. Fine, fine. Thank you for asking. I have to go now, Sophie, but I’ll see you Wednesday night.”

I hung up before she could say anything else, mostly because I didn’t want to have to answer questions I wasn’t prepared for. It had been hard enough to call in the first place, but going this long without hearing her voice, that had been harder.

It had been hard on those around me, too. If one more person asked me what was wrong, I thought I might flip my desk and set something on fire. Two members of my household staff threatened to quit because they said I was acting “bizarrely.” Which I guess involved snapping at everything that moved.

James Seebold, who would spit at you if you called him a butler even though that’s essentially what he was, took me aside one morning and told me that I had never been an easy man to work for, because I was driven and knew exactly what I wanted. I would accept no less than the best. He could appreciate that, and respected it. But I had gone from a challenging employer to a tyrannical one, and nobody was going to put up with that for long.

I fired him. How dare he? But I rehired him before he reached the door, because that took guts, and he was right. And that was a case in point—indecision. Something that had never plagued me before. I was tempted to really fire him when he said I was as moody as a schoolgirl, whatever that meant, but deep down I knew I’d been acting like an ass. More than usual.

And I knew exactly why. I said so, without revealing it. I suspect he knew, or had some inkling.

“Then may I ask, rhetorically, what are you going to do about it?” He’d raised his eyebrows and walked away, and I bit back the urge to fire him twice in the same morning.

There was only one thing I could do about it. Admit defeat and give in. I wanted Sophie back in my life.

And I’d do what it took to make that happen.

***

I sat across the table from Aten Hollis, who had been surprised that I invited him to dinner so soon after our last meeting.

“Our signing is over a week away, Grant. The lawyers are drawing everything up as fast as they can,” he’d said on the phone.

“I know, Aten. This is social, not business. I want to talk to you about something I think you’ll be happy about.”

He’d started to ask what, but I stopped him. “If you want to know what it is, you’ll just have to meet me for dinner.”

And so we sat there, chatting over drinks, but I knew he was about to come out of his skin with curiosity. I hadn’t told him Sophie was coming, though I knew he suspected that. After I’d had dinner with him and we’d set the date for the signing, I knew I couldn’t stand feeling that way anymore. I didn’t know what the hell to do about it, but I knew that at least being near Sophie was better than not, so I’d invited her to dinner.

The night would be a surprise for her, too. I hadn’t told her Hollis would be here, or what I’d planned.

Hollis faced the front of the restaurant, so I knew the moment Sophie walked in. He lit up and stood long before she reached the table. I stood and turned to see her covering her surprise that Hollis was here by greeting him first. He took her hand and kissed her cheek. “What a wonderful surprise. Grant didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“Didn’t he?” She glared at me, but smiled quickly to hide it from Hollis.

I kissed her cheek, then pulled her chair out.

Once we were seated, Sophie looked at her menu. Hollis was practically popping. “I was hoping you two would work through your differences.” He toasted us. Sophie didn’t have a drink yet, but she nodded at him.

“It seems we have,” she said, cutting her eyes at me.

“I’d have been a fool to let you get away. Aten said so himself.”

They complimented each other for a moment, so I focused on my own menu. And for once, I kept my hands to myself.

I could wait until after dinner.

While Hollis tried to turn the conversation to mine and Sophie’s relationship, she and I both skillfully maneuvered it away, almost working in tandem to push the topic back to Holliscorp, her work there, future projects, how many projects she’d lined up from the companies he’d introduced her to. The time flew, and we were all too full of food and wine for dessert.

“Now that we’re done, I have a surprise.” I cleared my throat. “And I’ll have you know, Aten, I waited until we were done, so that it wouldn’t be rude to expect to be alone with Sophie after I spring it.”

“Oh,” he said, his eyebrows shooting up.

I turned to her. “I figured now that we’ve patched things up, I was going to have to work hard to keep you from getting away again. And you’ve gone our entire engagement without a ring. Even Aten noticed that, right away. I can’t have single men thinking you’re available, when you’re not.”

I pulled the velvet ring box from my pocket and cracked it open. My throw had chipped my dresser mirror, but it hadn’t hurt the ring at all.

“Grant . . . what are you doing?”

“Finally giving you a ring.” I held it up, took Sophie’s left hand, and slipped it on her finger. “Perfect fit.”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Hollis leaning back, beaming at us. But Sophie didn’t smile. She stared down at the ring.

“What are you
doing
?” she breathed.

“Let’s set the date. No point in waiting, is there?”

Sophie looked from me to Hollis, whose smile was slipping. “I . . . Excuse me. I have . . . excuse me . . .”

She stood and ran from the table. Hollis stood, as if he might try to follow. “Is she all r—”

“She’s just overwhelmed. I should have done it in private, but . . . Good night, Aten. I have . . .”

He was waving me off saying go, go, but I was already running after her. I knocked a plate of something with a red sauce out of a server’s hand, splashing both of us, but I’d have to take care of that later.

She wasn’t outside the restaurant. She was on the next block, hurrying away, jumping toward the street and trying to hail every cab that passed. I ran.

“Sophie!”

She frantically waved at a cab that turned its light off just before I reached her.

“Sophie, wait.”

She put her hand up so I couldn’t grab her arms. “How could you spring something like that on me?”

“I’m sorry. I thought—”

“I’m not going to play this game with you anymore.”

“What game?”

“
What
game? Grant, you put a ring on my finger in front of Hollis and said we should set the date now. That game.”

“Damn it, it’s not a game, Sophie.” Should I have expected this reaction? My uncle’s voice told me I should have. I don’t know what I expected. I just wanted her without the pitfalls that could come with wanting someone so much.

She sniffed and wiped at her cheek. “If it’s not a game, then what is it?” Her eyes widened. “Are you trying to say that you meant it? You were actually asking me to marry you?”

Both yes and no were right, and both were wrong. And the longer it took me to answer, the more something came over her face. Hope?

“No, of course not.”

She sobbed and turned to wave down another cab.

“I mean, yes, I really want you to marry me . . . to keep up appearances. I’m so close to sealing the deal with Hollis, and if he becomes suspicious now—”

“I’d already told him we broke up. I don’t think he suspects a thing.”

I had no idea she’d done that. “I don’t want to risk it.”

Sophie shook her head. “
I don’t care
.”

And a cab pulled up to the curb. She was going, and she was furious and hurt. I couldn’t let her walk out of my life.

“The dresses and jewelry?” I said.

She stopped with one leg in the cab. “They’re boxed up, I just haven’t gotten around to sending them back to you.”

“I don’t want them back. But you should consider the money I spent on them. I know you’ve helped me, but I’ve helped you in return, as you pointed out yourself.  It would help me now immensely to keep Hollis thinking everything’s fine until the final paperwork is done. If we have a ceremony that he’s invited to, he’ll never have reason to doubt, and you can divorce me whenever it suits you. Win-win.”

“Win-win,” Sophie said.

“Yes.”

“So it would just be to convince Hollis we’re really together, and married?”

“Of course. Why else would—”

“Stop. Just stop right there, Grant. No, I’m not going to pretend to marry you.”

I knew I’d bet everything and lost with my stupid knee-jerk response. My unwillingness to let this woman know that the real ploy here was that any of this was fake.

“Sophie—”

“No.

“That ring on your finger alone was half a million dollars. And the La Costa—”

“Why are you telling me this? So I’ll feel . . . guilty?”

“No, I don’t want you to feel
guilty
. I wanted to give you those things.” I was grasping, and I could feel my fingertips slipping off the ledge one by one. “Just be reasonable enough to see that asking for a few weeks or months of a pretend marriage shouldn’t be that big a deal in return for all of it.”

“You want me to feel indebted, then. And I refuse. I won’t.”

“Sophie—”

“This ring, half a million, that’s a drop in the bucket to people like you, isn’t it?”

“Yes. What—”

She slammed the door shut, damn near catching my fingers as I tried to hold it open. As the cab pulled away from the curb, she hurled the ring out the window at me, where it bounced off the pavement behind me.

“Don’t call me again,” she shouted.

I picked up the ring and stared at it a moment. Those terrible feelings were back, the realization that I wanted something I couldn’t have. 

But you
could
have it. Or at least you could have before. Maybe not now . . .

I called the driver to pick me up, turning the ring over and over in my hand, feeling more lost than I ever had in my life. An elderly couple walking down the sidewalk laughed about something, and the man, who walked with a cane, kissed the woman on the cheek and said
I love you, even when you’re grumpy
. They laughed again, and despite having no idea what prompted the comment, I smiled.

“How long have you been together?” I asked, and wondered why my voice was so shaky.

“Fifty-seven years,” the man said proudly. “Fifty-seven looooong years,” he said with a wink. She gasped
oh you
and slapped his arm, giggling.

“That’s remarkable. Here.” I grabbed the man’s hand and pressed the ring into it. “It’s worth half a million dollars, and will look beautiful on your wife’s hand. Or take it to Heinway & Sons on 16th street—he’ll give you a fair price for it.”

They spoke over one another—
we can’t accept this, it’s too much, what are you
—but I held my hand up. “It’s just a gift. Enjoy it. Take care.”

I got into the limo and waved at them before the driver closed his door. My uncle’s voice echoed in my head.

Everything isn’t a business deal, Grant.