Page 320

How the hell am I going to pay for this?
GRAHAM
Another 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 shewantedit. 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. Iwon’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 tosomeone,not justsome 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 thechallenge. 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. Thenshe 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. Sheislovely 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. Andfuck, 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.