Page 25

My eyes jolt open from the sound of a chime from my phone.

For a moment, I’m disoriented and the world swirls around me, a kaleidoscope of confusing bright lights and colors. My lungs heave in breaths of air as the cobwebs slowly clear from my mind.

The smell of eucalyptus hits my nose.

The blue light from the computer monitors in front of me.

Faint sounds of telephones ringing. Muted conversations. Cabinets opening and closing.

I’m in my office.

I must’ve fallen asleep—the late nights and early mornings are getting to me, my body protesting at the consistent three hours of sleep.

But my mind lingers back to yesterday morning, when Grace licked my finger, giving me an experience more intense than any blow job I’d ever received, and a renewed heat travels through my veins and I groan.

This morning, when I showed up at her desk with her coffee in hand, she looked so flustered, her cheeks pinkened. She repeatedly gnawed on her lip, and I kept trying to make her squirm with low murmurs and raspy comments.

A perverse need to elicit a reaction from her.

God, I’ve regressed to being a teenager. Fuck.

Every nerve in my body is primed and zeroed in on her, this petite woman so resplendent, I wonder how the world doesn’t see it. Despite my best intentions to stay friends, those restraints fall away under the cloak of the darkness, and I just want her at my mercy .

Every graze of my hand on hers when I give her the drink, my fingers brushing a stray lock of hair fallen loose from her ponytail, my muscles clenching when I temper my need to wind those luscious strands around my hand before I plunder her lips.

It’s reciprocated. I can tell by her dilated pupils, her quickened breaths, the way her tongue keeps swiping at her lips. Despite my mind telling me to stop, my body disobeys and continues to perform this intimate dance with her.

Knock. Knock.

Straightening up in my chair, I holler, “Come in.”

My boss, Pietra Capital’s CEO, Sean Andrew Henry, III—if there’s a contest for the most pretentious name, he’d win it—strides in and takes a seat in front of me to have an impromptu meeting.

“Steven, this should be quick. Thought I’d get it out of the way before I forget.”

Cocking my brow, I clasp my hands in front of me. The way he’s shifting in the seat, his finger fiddling with his blue suit jacket which barely covers his waistline, is making me uneasy as my bullshit radar turns on. “What’s going on?”

“How do you feel about our crop of interns this year?”

My mind snags on Grace, the shining star out of the group. Her insights are sharp, and she frequently identifies issues or trends others don’t notice. It hasn’t escaped me how some analysts would huddle around her cubicle, asking her questions when they thought no one was looking.

“They’re decent, but one of them is stellar.”

Sean nods absentmindedly. “Good, good. Who’s the stellar one?”

“Grace Peyton, a senior from NYUC.”

He frowns and shrugs. “I don’t recognize her name. If she’s good, keep her contact information for next year.”

A cold front whips through me, sharpening my senses. I lean forward on my desk. “What do you mean? She’s getting one of the offers this year. I know two of them are already spoken for because they’re recommendations from our largest clients, but this last one is hers. She’s the best of the group.”

Sean waves me away, a shiny lock of blond hair falling over his face. “No can do this year. I just found out Greg Marley’s niece is one of our interns. His widow called and asked if we could offer her a position. The family has been devastated with his passing and this would mean a lot to them.”

Fuck this shit.

Grace never told me, but I sense she needs this job more than anyone else in the group.

“What about the other two openings then, can’t we give one of them to her? She deserves it, Sean. She’d be an asset to the firm.”

Shit. Why am I arguing with Sean? What he’s saying makes sense. You know that, Steven.

Sean leans back, his lips flattening in apparent displeasure. “What’s the matter with you, Steven? This is unlike you. You’re a man of logic and common sense. The other two offers as favors to keep our largest clients happy are no-brainers. This intern, whatever her name is—”

“Grace. Her name is Grace.” I grit my teeth together as I fight to keep my facial expression neutral.

“Grace is a nobody. The other three are somebodies. And we can give Grace an offer next year and double the signing bonus. She’d be a fool to say no then.” He stands up, straightens his jacket and stalks toward the door.

Pausing before he turns the handle, he looks back at me, his steely gaze cold.

“Steven, you’re after the COO promotion.

You want to run the TransAmerica deal, do what you do best, and use your fucking common sense.

I’m not having this conversation with you again.

Give the three interns their offers on Friday. ”

He lets out a laborious sigh, as if this entire conversation is tiring him. “I support you, Steven. You’re the man for the job. Just do the right thing. ”

Sean walks out the door and disappears around the corner, leaving me reeling with the implications. My chest clenches, a burning anger crawling up my spine. I release a breath and rake in another. And another.

The right thing.

It’s funny how that has changed in the last few weeks.

Logic and common sense, Steven. Grace can always get another job. I’ll give her a recommendation. It’ll be okay. She’ll understand.

She’ll hate you.

My thoughts are scrambled, my compass not knowing which way is north anymore.

Emotions are liabilities, all of it. My mind taunts me with Father’s warnings.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

My phone rings, the ringtone of a video call. I frown, picking up the device and staring at the caller ID.

Jess and Emily.

My chest twists as my shoulders tighten. I hope everything is all right. They rarely video me together. My first thought goes to Father, worried something happened to him because of the war zone no doubt at TransAmerica.

His life’s work. The Kingsley family’s redemption—instead of an empty old-money name, we are now synonymous with power. All because of Father.

His sacrifice by staying behind.

The thing he loves above everything else, everyone else. Now I have a chance to save it. I need to save it.

My sisters’ faces flash on the phone screen. I don’t think they’d stop calling unless I pick up.

Emily’s impish face fills the screen. Her warm brown eyes, which she got from Mother, narrow at me, her lips twisting in a scowl. “Why did it take you so long to pick up?”

Sitting back in my chair, I lift a brow at her. We’ve bickered all throughout our childhood and that doesn’t stop at adulthood, apparently. “I’m busy at work, unlike someone.”

“Hey! I’m a busy career woman too!” She’s a top PR consultant at a global firm, so she has a point there.

“Ems, focus,” Jess chides gently as her hazel eyes shine warmly at us.

“Mama, I want to talk to Uncle Steven!” I see a small tuft of brown curls at the edge of the screen and a warmth fills my senses.

Jess hoists her toddler up on her lap and Violet flashes me a cheeky grin, her lips messy with chocolate sauce smeared all over them.

“You’re not at work today, Jess? And how are you doing, little Violet? Are you a good sister to your little brother?”

“I’m not little! And I’m the best sister. Lucas would tell you, but he doesn’t know his words.” She pauses as she squints her eyes at me. “Why do you look tired, Uncle Steven? Are you staying up past your bedtime?”

“See? What did I tell you? You need to stop working so much. You’re going to end up with a heart attack before you’re thirty,” Emily chimes in, her arms crossed over her chest.

Jess rolls her eyes at her sister and ruffles Violet’s hair before handing her a tissue. “I took today off from work. Spending a little bit of time with this rascal before she heads back to school in a few weeks.”

Jess is an audit partner at a major public accounting firm and she’s usually mired in work, but summer is her slower season, which she takes advantage of now that she has little kiddos afoot.

“So, what’s with the call today?”

Emily perks up, her scowl replaced with a blinding smile. “Happy birthday, Steven! Enjoy your last year before you hit the big three zero.”

Frowning, I glance at the calendar on my computer monitor.

Shit. It is my birthday today.

“You forgot. So, I’m guessing you have no plans other than work?” Emily’s lips flatten into a thin line. “Don’t make me fly over there. And you know I can. Adrian can get the jet ready within the hour. ”

I hold up my hand. The last thing I need is Emily trailing after me, nagging my head off about having a life outside of work. She doesn’t understand this is the one place I feel at home, the one place I can keep the dark thoughts out of my mind.

Except now, there’s someone who can calm the rough waters. Someone who can—

No.

“Don’t fly out there, Ems. I’m sure Steven has plans already, don’t you, Steven?” Jess’s soft voice interjects, but there’s a sharpness in her gaze. Nothing escapes her notice.

I clear my throat. “Yes, I have plans. But thank you for calling.”

“We won’t take up too much of your time. We just wanted to say happy birthday to you, little brother, and we love you. Can’t wait until you visit at Thanksgiving.”

My nose prickles at the warmth in Jess’s voice.

Growing up in the empty halls of our mansion, where my life consisted of tutors and studying, the endless pursuit of being at the top in class, the best in everything, all duties of Kingsley offsprings, Jess had been the one to sneak me my favorite sour cream and onion potato chips on special occasions, even though Mother forbade junk food in the house.

Jess had been the one to give me a hug when I got anything less than an A on my tests.

She was the one who told me she was proud of me when I brought home awards and lacrosse trophies.