The Damaged Billionaire, page 11
“Do you like her?” Eddie asks, his eyes wide.
“What do you mean?” I ask, hoping they buy my stupid act.
“Do not get involved with her. You are her client. Don’t fuck it up,” Harrison warns, dead serious as he points his finger toward me. Something our dad used to do.
“Relax. I think she is the only woman I’ve met not to fall for my charm,” I say, trying to keep the peace. It is not a total lie. I thought if we ever saw each other again, it would be so hot that we would run straight to the bedroom. Her halting that for us has me second-guessing myself.
“Smartest woman in the country, then,” Ben teases.
“Yeah, she is smart. Like supersmart.” I rub my chin, thinking about the woman whose business acumen rivals that of the many business contacts I have.
“Just be careful, Tenn,” Harrison says, still looking at me intently, and I meet his eyes and nod. “I know you have a history; Willow mentioned it to Beth and me on our initial call. But she promised she would remain professional,” he adds, and my shoulders stiffen.
“She is excellent at her job. She is professional. But what she does outside of that, and who she does that with, is not up for us to discuss,” I state, letting them know my intentions, because I am not about to let him put any of this on her. There is no way I can stay away from this woman, and if something happens between us, it doesn’t mean she’s failed at her job.
“Fuck,” Harrison murmurs, rubbing his head. “Well… you have been a different man since she has come into your life. No more fucking everything with legs every weekend.”
“That’s true. We haven’t seen any early morning pap shots of you escaping from a woman’s bed in a while,” Eddie says.
“Yeah, well, I know the last six months or so I haven’t been great. But things are changing,” I say to them, feeling the change in myself. All because of Willow.
“I hope that they are.” Harrison looks at me questioningly, still not fully accepting it.
“How good have I been? I have been on the straight and narrow, done everything asked of me, and I don’t plan to fuck anything up. But Willow is someone I have been looking for, for a long fucking time. Now she just shows up again, and I am meant to keep things professional?” My voice rises. I can’t help it. This is starting to piss me off.
“What do you mean?” Ben asks, looking between Harrison and me.
“Willow was the woman I met in New York,” I tell them, letting them all know the truth. I don’t tell them much about my life, but after that night in New York, I did spend a few weeks trying to find her, and my brothers know all about that.
“Willow is your New York woman?” Eddie asks, shock evident on his face.
“Jesus, what are the chances?” Ben says, rubbing his head.
Harrison just looks at me in shock as he puts the pieces together.
“I will be careful. I am not stupid. I will keep things professional. But Willow is not like anyone I’ve met before,” I say adamantly, and as I look at my brothers, steel determination settles in my bones.
I will have Willow again. It might not be as soon as I hope, but it will happen.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - WILLOW
I have seen extravagance before, but as I walk around this room, it is next level. I am not sure what is in the water here in Baltimore, but even in DC, the elegance at events is more understated. Here, it is on full display.
This is one of the key business events for Harrison and Beth. The governor’s office has brought together important stakeholders across a variety of industries for a formal dinner to build networks, enhance partnerships, and to amplify the Maryland business offering.
My shoulders are stiff due to the pressure I feel about ensuring Tennyson behaves himself tonight. It’s his first big event since I have come on board, and I need to show him and his brothers that there is a tangible difference.
“Willow, you're here!” Beth says, grabbing me in for a hug. She was obviously waiting for me, but I only just arrived.
“Hey, you look amazing,” I say, because she does. Her hair all pinned, a burgundy floor-length gown complementing her gorgeous figure, she looks a million dollars. Just like a first lady should.
I don’t go out a lot, but at least in DC, I know everyone. Here, I know only a few, but that doesn’t stop people from looking at me with interest, the gazes I am getting so intense I am continually checking my attire, wondering if I have a stain on my dress or something.
“So do you, and I am not the only one to think that,” she says with a knowing smile.
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.
“Every man in this room has his eye on you. Not only because you are new to the Baltimore scene and they all love fresh blood, but because you look stunning, and I must say, that soft blue dress does amazing things for your eyes.”
“Oh stop. This old thing,” I tease, and we laugh. We are both smart women; there is more to us than just the fashion we wear.
I haven't worn this dress in a while. I work so much that I am usually in yoga pants in front of the computer or in corporate attire for my meetings. Formal wear is something I don’t pull out of my wardrobe very often. I forgot the leg slit was so high, but with little time to choose an alternative because Betty was being needy and wanting to be fed, I decided the chiffon flows enough to hide it, my leg only peeking out when I walk or if I step out on purpose.
“Ladies, you both look beautiful tonight,” Harrison says as he kisses Beth on her temple. The two of them are so obviously in love it is almost nauseating. “Willow, how is it all going with Tennyson?” He gets straight to the point.
“The past few weeks have been great. Very productive,” I say with a nod as I offer him a beaming smile. I don’t want to go into specifics. One, because this is not the time or place, but two, my loyalty now lies with Tennyson. Regardless of the fact that Harrison reached out to me first. It is one of the reasons I am so good at what I do. I compartmentalize the noise and chatter and remain laser focused on my client. When they need me, I am there. Always in their corner.
“So he is behaving himself, then?” Harrison presses.
“So far, so good.” I placate his concerns before looking around the room for the man in question. I still can’t spot him.
“Excellent. He was a new man at golf this morning, so I hope that continues. Beth, we need to go over to the bar. I see someone we should have a chat with,” Harrison says, already pulling her away.
“See you at the table later.” I smile and watch as the two of them move as one across the room, like they own the entire country. I can actually picture them being the first family, and I am almost positive that Harrison should make a run for it in the next few years.
“Stunning couple, aren’t they?” a man says, coming to stand next to me. I look at him, and like all men in this room, he looks dapper in his suit. His hair dusted with silver, his shoulders are broad, and he is very, very handsome.
“They sure are. Wonderful leaders of Maryland,” I say with a smile.
“Geoffrey Newcomb,” he says, extending his hand.
“Willow Valentine.” I accept it, shaking firmly. His grip is solid, his hand large and encasing my own.
“I haven’t seen you at one of these things before?” he prods subtly with a slight rise to his eyebrows.
“First time,” I say, matching his grin. He is flirting with me, and while the woman in me is extremely flattered, I know exactly what he is. Trouble.
“Well, now I am glad I came,” he says, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes sparkling in the lights as they run down my body and back up again. I can tell he is a man who always gets what he wants. I bet no one has ever said no to him.
“I’m fucking not.” Tennyson's voice sounds from my other side, his hand warm as it runs around my lower back. His fingers curve around my waist and he pulls me slightly toward him.
“Tennyson,” I growl at him as my brow crumples. This is not the professionalism I was expecting from him tonight. But his eyes continue to focus on Geoffrey.
“Thought you kept your distance from these things, Geoffrey.” I look between the two men, their gazes locked on each other. Tennyson appears sober, but a little rattled.
“Tennyson,” Geoffery says, his shoulders now stiff, his lips pressed tight. He gives me a silent nod before he retreats and I spin around to face the problem.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You cannot go around this room greeting people like that,” I hiss quietly.
“He is an asshole,” Tennyson mutters, looking down at me. His hand remains, almost like he is staking his claim here in front of everyone. I should move, but I don’t.
“It doesn’t matter if he is or not, you still can’t greet people like that,” I tell him, my heart stammering in my chest.
Tennyson looks at me with thinned eyes. I match his stare, our silent disagreement oblivious to anyone else but us.
“Fine. Sorry,” he mutters, offering me a half-assed apology. “Have you been here long?” His hand around my waist grips me a little tighter, tucking me in to him a little more.
“Not long. I arrived maybe ten minutes ago.” I can’t help but notice my voice is breathier.
“Hmmm, it didn't take him long then,” Tennyson murmurs with a shake of his head as he looks over me. “You look…” His eyes dip, taking in my dress and the slight appearance of my leg as it juts out of the chiffon that runs like water down my body. “Like I need to take you out the back and trail my lips up your leg and bury myself in you for the rest of the night instead.”
Any response gets stuck in my throat for a moment, my mouth parched, his words zinging straight through me. I am starting to see more and more that Tennyson is struggling not being able to get the one thing he wants. Me.
“You are very dapper yourself, Mr. Rothschild. But we are here to work. Remember?” I whisper, my eyes glued to his before we both seem to come to our senses and he slowly relaxes his arm. His grip is no longer possessive but gentlemanly.
“I have been here five minutes, and I already need a drink.” I knew this would be tough.
“Oh, I brought you something,” I say, remembering the small token I have in my bag. I pull it out and pass it to him, the keychain dangling in the light.
“A cupcake?” he asks, his brow furrowed.
“Yes. A cupcake. Put it in your pocket, and when you have the urge to do something you shouldn’t, you grip on to this instead. Kind of like a stress ball.”
“It is hard and glittery,” he murmurs, taking the keychain and putting it into his hand, and I see little shimmers of glitter now coating his palm.
“It is. Something that you can feel in your hand, get your mind off whatever bad idea pops into your head at the time,” I say, smiling as I see him pocket the little keychain.
“Ohh, I have lots of bad ideas. And dirty ones too,” he whispers to me, his eyes searing into mine.
“Tennyson, hi!” a young blond woman almost squeals as she comes up to us, looking stunning with a bright-red smile and sparkling blue eyes. Full of energy and acting like she is a teenager, she lets out a little giggle as she approaches. I look at her and immediately know she is someone who knows Tennyson intimately. I stiffen, but Tennyson’s hand grips around my waist again, keeping me close.
“Hi,” Tennyson says with a nod, not saying her name and not introducing us, so I figure he can’t remember who she is. I am not sure if that makes it better or worse.
“Hello, I am Willow Valentine,” I offer her, and her gaze moves to me, her smile dropping as soon as it leaves Tennyson’s face as she takes in how close we’re standing.
“Hi, Katerina Newcomb.” She introduces herself with words, yet her body language tells me she doesn’t care who I am at all. I would like to say that I am not familiar with the type of woman Katerina is, but that would be a lie. Unfortunately, she isn’t uncommon. Women like her are often surrounding rich businessmen, men who travel and cheat on their wives and usually do something they shouldn’t before they end up calling me. I have come across her type before.
“Newcomb?” Tennyson asks, his eyes looking confused. “Any relation to Geoffrey?”
“He’s my dad, silly. You know that,” she says as she playfully claps her hand onto Tennyson’s chest in a move that confirms they are very familiar with each other. She is too flirty, and I need to leave this conversation before I slap him. Jealousy coils on my insides, and I pinch my palm with my nails and take a breath.
“Oh, how wonderful,” I say with a fake smile, turning to look at Tennyson, who now won’t look me in the eye. Getting into bed with a range of women is one thing. Getting into bed with the daughter of your main business rival is entirely different.
“I need to freshen up. I will leave you both to chat,” I say, gritting my teeth behind my smile.
“Willow…” Tennyson says, grabbing my elbow, his touch burning into my skin.
“I will speak to you later.” I clutch my bag in my hand so tight I’m probably breaking the stitching. Pulling my elbow from his grip, I walk to the bar, following the same trail Beth made earlier. It isn’t until I am ordering a glass of champagne that I feel someone come up beside me.
“Another cute couple. My daughter took a liking to Tennyson the minute they met. Even though she is in Kentucky at our ranch, her trips out here to see me are more frequent now. I thought perhaps she just missed being with her dad, but I soon realized that she comes to see someone else,” Geoffrey says from beside me. The thought of Tennyson with anyone but me makes me feel sick. But I have no claim. I can’t go there, no matter if I want to or not.
“Kids have a way of being sneaky like that,” I offer, trying to shake off my anger at the situation and plaster on a fake smile that I have well practiced. I have no idea what kids are like, really, but if my little sister and Josh have taught me anything, it is that they only tell me the truth when they really need to.
“You have kids?” he asks, and I start to feel the familiar ache in my chest at the question. Since I have been single for a while, it isn’t a question I get asked a lot. I want children. Desperately. My maternal instincts are strong, but who knows if I’ll ever get to put them to use. While chatting to one of Tennyson’s business competitors is not my idea of a good time, I don’t see anyone else I know, so I perch myself against the bar and try not to look Tennyson’s way.
“No. But enough experience with them to know that you give them an inch and they will take a mile,” I say, and he laughs, making me smile. I take a sip of my champagne, needing the quench, and maybe even the buzz.
“Isn’t that the truth. When Katerina was younger, she snuck out of the house. I knew, of course, and had her followed and waited for her to get home. She tried to sell me some excuse that she was shopping for a Father’s Day present. But I couldn’t understand what shops would be open at eleven p.m. on a Friday night and why she needed the young boy down the road to help her.” He chuckles at the memory.
“So she was a handful as a kid, then?” I ask, keeping the conversation going, my eyes looking from him to around the room and back again.
“Always has been. She has taken a shine to Tennyson. Not my ideal candidate for the job of being with my daughter, but I am afraid she has me wrapped around her little finger. I would do anything for her and to see her happy.”
“My father is the same. Nothing is too much for his girls,” I say, thinking of my dad whom I don’t see enough of these days.
“I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot. Tennyson and I are business associates who don’t always see eye to eye on things, so I apologize if I overstepped earlier.” His apology takes me by surprise. I have read up a little on Tennyson's business and his competitors. From memory, Geoffery Newcomb is the main one vying against Tennyson in every aspect. The two of them obviously don’t get along, yet maybe he isn’t as much of an asshole as I assumed he was from the information that was given to me.
“Let’s start over, then. Hi, I am Willow Valentine. I am here as a guest of Beth and Harrison.” I offer my hand to shake.
“The pleasure is all mine, Willow, and I am glad I got to talking to you tonight.” As his hand encases mine, we both smile. There is some activity across the room, and I see Tennyson’s mother has arrived. Now that is a woman I have heard a lot about and one I already know is going to be a handful. I slip into work mode, and my protectiveness of my client and his welfare kicks in as I watch her saunter around the room like she owns it. I quickly look around for Tennyson, and I spot him over in the corner, chatting to his brother, Eddie, his eyes piercing mine. I don’t miss the way his shoulders stiffen when his mother approaches.
“I’m sorry, Geoffery, if you will excuse me,” I say with a small smile, and I leave my glass on the bar to walk over to the corner of the room.
It is time for me to play bodyguard.
CHAPTER NINETEEN - TENNYSON
The night has barely started, and I already want to fucking kill someone.
“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Eddie asks from over his whiskey, one that smells amazing right about now.
“Nothing,” I growl, not looking at him, not taking my eyes off Willow, who is laughing and smiling with Geoffery fucking Newcomb over near the bar. She looks amazing. That dress is almost painted on her, the slit up her leg doing nothing but teasing me and every other man in this room, and she doesn’t even know it. Her eyes twinkle in the overhead lights, but I saw them cloud over when Kerry or Katrina or whatever her name is came over. It was a surprise to me that one of my bed fellows was the daughter of my archenemy—yet another fuckup I made. That list gets longer by the day.
I watch them both now with deep distaste on my tongue. It didn’t take Geoffery long; the old bastard saw fresh meat when Willow walked in and is no doubt trying to get her into his bed. Which is not happening, because there is only one bed she belongs in, and it is mine.
