Page 54 of Van Cort

EVERETT

I’ve been standing here, outside her office, watching her work my financials for about five minutes.

She hasn’t noticed me at all. She’s so busy needling all the information I’ve given her that she’s hardly looked up from the screen, other than to cross-reference that data with what’s in the folder.

It’s impressive, and whilst that isn’t the main reason I want her, it adds to the enigma she’s become to me.

“Sir?” I look over my shoulder as Devon approaches. “Your five o’clock is ready. They’re in the boardroom.”

“Cancel it.” I’m too absorbed with the current situation I’m invested in.

“Sir? It’s the commerce committee for the state? They’ve all flown in and-”

I turn to look at her and glare. “I said cancel it.”

She lowers her confused stare and nods, striding away from me at pace.

Turning back to something far more stimulating than any commerce committee, my lips lift again. She’s still raking over figures and spreadsheets and is now seeming frustrated by something. My smile increases. I know frustration. And I know how infuriating that frustration can be. She needs a break.

Me too.

I open the door and walk in, which springs her out of her in-depth analysis of my figures.

“Oh, hi,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “Is everything okay? You’re interrupting me.”

“Dinner.”

“I have work to do.”

My hands find my pockets. “I’m fairly certain when your boss tells you it’s time to leave and eat, you should acknowledge the nicety and accept.”

She swings back to her screen rather than do either.

“Where? Because, honestly, whilst the offer is noted, your figures are a mess, I don’t have much longer on this contract, and while the other night was fantastic, dinner at nice restaurants at the drop of a hat is becoming your only move. ” My head rears back.

“Excuse me?”

She starts tapping again. “I’d like to think we’ve moved past the need to impress me with a fancy dinner that seems to be the signature Van Cort move.

” She glances at the folder and back to the screen again.

“I’ve been thinking, and, well, it’s all well and good Everett, but when do I get the full you?

The balanced version?” She hits enter on something and swings back to me.

“You can be… a lot. And at this very moment, I can’t work out if you’re going to be hot or cold.

And yes, the hot is very hot, and there have been moments when it’s even warm, and beautiful. But the cold is really quite chilly.”

“Chilly?”

“On occasion, yes.”

“Have I been chilly today?”

“I haven’t seen you until now. I’m not sure what the etiquette at work is.”

I tilt my head. “So, not chilly today?”

“That sort of depends on the rest of this conversation.”

“Okay then. Pack your shit up, I’m taking you to my place for dinner.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Your place?”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t been to your place.”

“A correct statement. But there have been reasons for that, and since staying at yours is now normal, I thought you’d like to come to mine. You might find more of me there.” She arches a brow at me.

“You’ve stayed at mine once. It’s hardly normal.” She gets up and powers down, grabbing her bag. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Also,” she continues, as she walks to the door. “I hope you have staff because I’m not cooking again.”

I nod as she passes me. “I’ll order in.”

“Are you driving, or is Andre here?”

“Andre. Lobby.” I follow her as she keeps walking, trying to keep my gaze off her ass through the corridor.

“Are you looking at my ass?”

“Absolutely.” She laughs and comes to a halt by the elevator.

“Not very professional, Mr Van Cort.”

“No. Not at all. You’re fired.”

“I’m what? Are you serious?”

“Maybe. I’ll make that decision later. Or you can.”

***

The drive home is smooth enough, and we both spend our time in silence.

It isn’t anger, or frustration, or anything other than sexual tension on my part.

I’m not so sure about hers. She seems to have things to say, and whilst I understand that, and the constant confusion she’s probably been in regarding this relationship, I can’t answer any of the above until I openly show her what’s been going on.

It is, unfortunately, a make-or-break conundrum and other than giving her some more of my soul and hoping, I’m out of options.

We’re there now. We’re on that cliff. There isn’t anything left but the truth.

She walks into the apartment with the same amount of forthright determination she walked out of her office with. Her bag gets put down on the kitchen island, and she barely acknowledges the space around her before turning to look at me.

“Are we going to have sex now?” The question, whilst appealing, surprises me.

“Because you’ve got that broody look about you, and you’ve been quietly flirtatious in that way that suggests that’s what you’re thinking about.

I’m not saying no, I’m just trying to make sure I’ve got it right because honestly, I’m confused.

I don’t want to be anymore, so I’m asking directly. ”

“What are you confused about?”

“Everything. You. I think I’ve got a handle on you, and then it’s completely changed by something.

And I was going through the data today for you, and it suddenly occurred to me that the numbers are safe.

They’re solid and easy to read. Numbers don’t change.

Math is simple. You’re not. And I’m not saying I want simple because that might be futile and boring, but I do want clarity, Everett.

Real, honest clarity that tells me why you are the way you are. ”

“Where is this coming from? I apologised for-”

“No, we’re past that. The sunset softened me, and you were wonderful, but this is just what it is now. I feel like I’m missing something with you, like I don’t know which side of you I’m going to get, and I don’t like it. Which gives me pause to think over my options.”

I stare. Options?

She folds her arms. “What? Didn’t like that last bit? I do have options, Everett. I can make choices.”

My tongue might run over my teeth in frustration, but I still nod and walk past her for the intercom to the desk downstairs. “Pizza or steak?”

She looks around the kitchen, frowning. “That isn’t any kind of answer. It’s a question.”

“We’ll get to the answer. And your options, but food first, or whilst.”

“No staff?”

“No.”

“Do you use any of your wealth for anything other than Andre?” I think, and other than tailored clothes, constant employment costs, and occasional things I need, no.

“Not really.”

“Charities?”

“No.”

“Hobbies?” What the hell is she going on about?

“No.”

“Sport?”

“Gym.”

“Pizza please.”

I order a selection with the concierge from the best place nearby and then look back at her, pulling at my tie in the same breath.

“So, sex before pizza and talk?” she asks. “And do you honestly eat pizza? Pizza seems so unlike you. Well, actually, I’m not sure about that.”

“No sex. And yes, I do enjoy pizza. Wine for the talk?”

“Yes, please. Why no sex? You were ready for sex, weren’t you?”

“Very much so.”

“But not now?”

I stare, wondering what the fuck is going on with her.

“Whilst watching your ass made me very ready for sex, I think you need me to talk more and fuck less, and I think I need to talk so you understand who you’re part of.

Yes? But, just to clarify the point, I don’t need to fuck less.

In fact, I could fuck all night. Is that enough clarity? ”

“Quite clear.” She rolls her eyes. “Thank you for the clarification.”

Wine gets poured, and we both move through to the lounge area. She glances around, taking in my apartment and smiles to herself about something.

“Something funny?” I ask, as I hand her her wine.

“No. It’s just, this is you. I expected this. Maybe a few more splashes of colour here and there, but this is more you than your place in Vancouver.” I move to go outside to take in the view.

“That’s because I haven’t done anything with that place. It’s still all my father. Luckily for you, I’m not him.”

Following me out, she comes to stand beside me. “Do you want it to be more you?”

“Do you?” She tilts her head, confused.

“Me? What’s it got to do with me?” Everything. “You see, this is what I mean, Everett. I’m asking if you want it to be a home, and you turn it back on me. What do you want from it?”

“I don’t know.” I pause, letting the thought linger in the air, and lean on the glass railing that surrounds the terrace.

“No, that’s not right. It’s not honest either.

That place should be a home for family, and love, and hot summer days and cold, cozy winters.

But it was never any of that for me. It was only somewhere that taught me how to navigate my father.

It was harsh, painful, unyielding, and full of blame and hate and booze, and because of that, I’ve turned out like this.

” I look sideways at her resting alongside me.

“In some respects, I’m sorry you’re now caught up in that because you were never supposed to be, River.

I was just going to find someone who meant little to me so I could do the thing I needed to do to ensure Van Cort, breed, and then it probably would have been split homes for a loveless marriage and we’d barely see each other.

It would have been disciplined and desperately unhappy, for the woman at least. But now there’s you.

You’re a navigation I wasn’t prepared for and, like it or not, I’m now full of complications I’m yet to disclose. ”

“What complications?”

“Who I am. How I am. Who I’d like to be.”

She takes a moment before leaving me on the rail and choosing one of the chairs to sit in. “And who would you like to be, Everett?” I turn to face her.