The hawthorne brothers a.., p.29
The Hawthorne Brothers: A Complete Billionaire Romance Collection, page 29
My eyebrows arch. How long has he been standing there? How much did he hear?
“In fact, she’s not sleeping with me at all,” Asher goes on. “Which is perfectly fine with me.”
It is? I thought he wanted me to have sex with him? Did he change his mind?
“I’ve been bringing her coffee to make up for the fact that I was a jerk to her during her first weeks here just like you said. And because I’ve noticed she hasn’t been getting a lot of sleep. And you know why not? Because Ms. Cleary works very hard, even when she’s not in the office. I know for a fact that she’s busy until two in the morning sometimes.”
The auburn-haired woman purses her lips and looks away. The other keeps still and silent. The brunette speaks softly as she fidgets with the strings of her pouch.
“Sorry, sir.”
“Don’t apologize to me,” Asher replies. “I’m not the one you hurt. That would be Ms. Cleary here—a newcomer, a colleague, a woman striving to make a difference in the corporate world just like you. Now, I won’t make you apologize to her, because you’re not children, but let me make it clear that I will not tolerate anyone spreading malicious rumors about Ms. Cleary. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” all three murmur with lowered heads.
Asher said they’re not children, but right now they remind me of three little girls who just got caught making another girl cry in the playground. And by the cool, cute older boy whom they happen to have a small crush on, no less. They look on the verge of tears themselves and I almost want to hug them and tell them it’s alright.
Almost. I’m not that kind.
Asher turns to me. “Ms. Cleary?”
“Yes?” I meet his gaze.
“If you’re done with your lunch break, there’s something I’d like to go over with you.”
“Yes, sir,” I answer.
I follow Asher to his office. Once we’re inside, I close the door behind me.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell him.
“I did. If the people working for this company turn on each other, we will lose money.”
He’s right, of course. Still…
“I had it under control.”
“Maybe, but…” He stops as he meets my gaze. His eyebrows furrow. “Have I… offended you?”
“No,” I answer promptly.
Do I look offended?
“I just…”
I draw a deep breath.
Just spit it out, Violet. Say what’s on your mind like that woman did. Ask the questions that need asking. Then you won’t have to keep wondering or feel like you’re suffocating.
“Mr. Hawthorne…”
“Yes?”
“Why are you being kind to me?”
Asher doesn’t answer at once. For another moment, his eyebrows remain creased. Then they arch.
“Oh. Is that what you think of what I just did? An act of kindness?”
Now I’m the one who’s confused. Wasn’t it?
“It’s not just what you did. I’m talking about everything. The coffee. The compliments. All the help with work.”
He touches his chin as he leans on the edge of his desk. “I see. You think I’m being kind. That’s why you asked me earlier if there was anything I wanted.”
I nod.
“You think I’m being kind because I want you to sleep with me?” Asher asks me outright.
I shrug. “I think you’re being kind because you need… something. I just can’t figure out what.”
“Well, I don’t,” he says. “I have many ways of seducing women. Kindness isn’t one of them.”
Okay. So I’m right. Asher no longer wants to sleep with me. That’s a good thing, right? That’s what I wanted? Why then don’t I feel relieved?
“Like I said earlier, I’m not expecting anything from you, Ms. Cleary,” Asher adds. “So you don’t have to worry.”
No. I’m not worried. I’m disappointed, hurt. When someone doesn’t expect anything from you, doesn’t that mean they’ve given up on you? That they no longer care about you? So Asher no longer cares about me?
I was complaining about being a charity case but I’m not even that. It’s like Asher just had this kindness to throw around and I just happened to be there so I got a sprinkle of it.
“Just so you know, I wasn’t being kind, Ms. Cleary. I was just being your boss. A nice boss, which is really what I usually am. In fact, if you ask some of the people here, they’ll tell you I’m nicer than my brothers.”
Right. Asher’s just being… Asher. He wasn’t going out of his way to be nice to me. He wasn’t treating me like I was special. He wasn’t being anything, least of all kind, which is cruel, really. I can’t stand it.
“Well, you don’t have to be,” I tell him.
He gives me a puzzled look. “I don’t have to be your boss? Ms. Cleary, are you quitting?”
“You don’t have to be nice,” I explain.
“Like I said, I’m not trying to be nice to you or anything. I’m just—”
“Just don’t, Asher.” I put my hands up. “Whatever it is, whatever’s been going on, just stop it. Don’t bring me coffee. Don’t send me home early. Don’t tell me my dress is nice. Don’t ask me how I’m feeling. Don’t talk to me.”
I put my hands down and draw a deep breath.
“Just leave me alone, Mr. Hawthorne. Please?”
For a moment, Asher just looks at me. Then he shrugs. “Fine.”
Fine? That’s all he has to say after everything I said?
I turn around and leave.
Fine.
Chapter Nine
Asher
“You don’t look fine,” Glenn tells me as he serves up my second martini. “Tough week at work?”
“Women,” I answer before taking a sip.
One woman, to be precise. Violet Cleary.
She’s perplexing. I flirt with her. She thinks I’m a jerk. I apologize to her and she still thinks I’m a jerk. I act like a jerk. She won’t go away. I give her a present. She introduces my balls to her knee. Ouch. I let that go. I’m practically a saint. I even do nice things for her like I normally do for my best employees. And what does she do? She looks at me like I’m the scum of the earth and tells me to leave her alone.
No. She’s not perplexing. Perplexing I can take. I love it even. When I see a math problem that challenges me, I immerse myself in it. I take time to figure out the answer, and when I do, I feel immense satisfaction, like everything in the universe makes sense.
Violet is impossible. She’s a problem without a right answer.
“Why is it that women don’t make any sense?” I ask Glenn. “You’re mean to them and they get hurt. You’re nice to them and they still cry foul. They hate you either way and yet they still stick around.”
“Women,” Glenn mutters as he shakes his head.
“Yup. That sounds like them,” Ethan agrees.
I look at him and snort. “You have no right to complain. You have Stella.”
“And sometimes I still don’t understand her,” Ethan says. “The other day, she wanted to have guacamole with chocolate syrup.”
Glenn chuckles. “Think women are bad? Pregnant women are worse. They’re cranky and whiny. They’re roller coasters. One day they’re so happy they want to buy every pair of baby shoes in the store. The next they’re crying because they can’t decide whether they want pink or red nail polish. One moment they’re all over you and won’t let you leave their side. The next they literally throw up at the sight of you.”
“I didn’t know you were married, Glenn,” Ryker says.
I didn’t either, but I don’t think he was making any of that stuff up.
I give Ethan a pat on the shoulder. “It looks like you’re in for a hell of a ride, big brother.”
He frowns. “Thanks, Glenn.”
“And don’t even get me started about women in labor,” Glenn says. “They’re the most unreasonable kind.”
Ryker shrugs. “I think anyone would be unreasonable if they’re pushing a little human out through their—”
“Okay. That’s enough,” Ethan cuts him off.
“I agree,” I say as I try to push the image out of my mind. “You know what? How about we not talk about women while we drink?”
“You started it,” Ryker points out.
“And you have no right to complain about not being able to talk about women since you don’t have any to talk about,” I tell him as I lift my glass to my lips. “Unless you’ve decided to make a move on your best friend’s cute sister.”
“What best friend’s sister?” Ethan asks.
“Claire Parker,” Ryker answers. “Joel’s sister. And no, I am not making a move on her or whatever it is your festering mind thinks I should do.”
I make a face at his choice of adjective. “‘Festering’, is it? I really wonder why you haven’t found yourself a girlfriend when you’re obviously such a cunning linguist.”
“You know, that right there pretty much proves my point,” Ryker responds.
“I don’t mind,” Ethan breaks in. “The new rule about not talking about women, I mean. But I thought you wanted to know all about what’s going on between me and Stella.”
“That was when the two of you had an exciting relationship,” I tell him. “Now, the two of you just have sex all the time, which is boring.”
Ethan grins. “Trust me. It never is.”
“And something I’d rather not have an image of in my head,” I add.
“Same here,” Ryker seconds.
“Fine.” Ethan sets his glass down. “No talking about women, though I doubt you’ll be able to follow that rule.”
“He won’t,” Ryker agrees. “The only way Asher will stop talking about women is if he stays away from them, and that’s one thing he’ll never do, no matter how much women drive him crazy.” He looks at me. “Who’s the one who doesn’t make sense now?”
I take a sip of my martini instead of answering. Ryker’s right. I’m not right in the head, either. As frustrating as Violet is—and she’s the most frustrating person I’ve ever met in my life—what’s even more frustrating is that I’m still attracted to her. I told myself I would stop caring about her and yet I still do. She’s a problem without an answer and yet I still can’t help wanting to figure her out.
I guess we’re both impossible.
“I’ll stop talking about women as long as Ethan shows up every Friday night like he used to,” I say before popping an olive into my mouth.
“You know I can’t make any promises,” Ethan says.
Glenn shakes his head. “His life isn’t his own anymore, boys.”
Poor Ethan.
I let out a sigh before finishing my last olive. “Fine.” I signal to Glenn to make me another one.
Ethan asks for another glass of whiskey as well. “By the way,” he says. “How’s your apartment?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about women.”
“I asked about your apartment.”
Yeah, right.
“What’s wrong with his apartment?” Ryker asks.
I guess he still doesn’t know Violet and I are neighbors.
“Nothing,” I answer. “I was thinking about moving somewhere else, but I do like The Mistral. Maybe you should move in.”
“And be your neighbor?” Ryker shakes his head. “No way.”
I give him a puzzled look. Why not? It’s not like I have a pet skunk or throw orgies every night.
That threesome last week doesn’t count as an orgy, does it?
“You grew up in the room next to mine,” I remind him.
Which means he was my first neighbor. Ethan was in the room at the end of the hall.
“Exactly,” Ryker says. “I’ve had enough of living next to you.”
I snort. This brat.
“Besides, I like my apartment,” he adds. “Not too big. Not too small.”
“Oh, are we making dick jokes now?” I tease him. “Because I thought we weren’t drunk enough for that yet.”
Ryker frowns. “Well, some of us aren’t.”
“So you’re staying in your apartment?” Ethan asks me.
“Yes,” I answer.
I was there first. There’s no reason why I should leave.
“Happy now?” I ask him.
Before Ethan can answer, his phone rings. He takes it out of his pocket.
“I thought no phones,” I say.
He ignores me and answers the call. A second later, he leaves the stool beside me and heads out to the balcony.
“That must be Stella,” Ryker says what I’m thinking.
I turn my attention back to my drink. “So he shows up but he’d rather be at home with her.”
“Just be grateful he did show up. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
I wanted things to go back to the way they were, but I guess that’s not an option anymore.
I drink. Ryker takes out his phone.
For a moment, I consider reprimanding him, but I decide not to. Ethan’s already on the phone. Ryker’s always on his phone lately. Maybe we should just do away with that rule.
“How are the preparations for Joel’s wedding going?” I ask him instead.
“Okay,” Ryker answers. “I think. I’m his best man, not his wedding planner.”
Right. I go back to drowning my thoughts in alcohol only to have them interrupted when a woman occupies Ethan’s seat. I move my glass away from my lips.
“I’m sorry, miss, but—”
The rest of my sentence vanishes as I find myself staring at a familiar face. Painfully familiar. I may have lost count of how many women I’ve slept with and forgotten most of their names, but I’ll never forget the name of the first woman I slept with.
“Farrah West,” I say it as I put my glass down. “I must say I never thought I’d see you again.”
What was that quote from Casablanca? ‘Of all the bars in the world, she had to walk into mine’ or something like that. Fate can be mischievous, indeed.
“Asher.” She gives me a tentative smile as she fidgets with the heart-shaped pendant of her necklace. “How are you?”
I look away. “You can drop the niceties. I know you’re not nice.”
I finish my drink.
“I was actually hoping I’d never see you again.”
After everything she did to me, I thought I would hit her for sure the next time we met. Strangely, right now, I don’t feel angry, just a little annoyed.
I signal to Glenn to pour me another martini before eating my olives.
“By the way, that seat is taken,” I tell her.
“Right.” She vacates it. “I was just going to order drinks and go back to the table I’m sharing with my husband. He’s here on business and—”
“I’m not interested, Farrah,” I cut her off.
She nods. “Right.”
She walks off, but then she returns to my side. I see the anxious expression on her face reflected on my empty glass.
I glance over my shoulder. “What?”
Why can’t women just leave me in peace?
She draws a deep breath. “I know this is probably too little too late to undo any damage I’ve done, but I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what I did seventeen years ago. I was a child.”
“So was I.”
I was only sixteen.
“I’ve spent a long time regretting it,” she adds.
I look into her brown eyes. I try to remember what I used to see in them all those times we had sex, before everything turned into a mess. I can’t. All I can remember is the hatred that burned in them when she tried to drag me to hell.
“You’re right,” I tell her. “It’s too little too late.”
I turn my head away and pick up my next martini. As I drink, Farrah remains standing behind me. What? Is she not yet done? What is she waiting for?
Finally, she leaves.
“Who was that?” Ryker asks as soon as she’s gone.
I don’t answer.
Moments later, Ethan comes back to his seat. He glances over his shoulder.
“Who were you talking to?”
I set my glass down and snarl, “I thought we weren’t talking about women.”
And I’m glad I made that rule, because right now, I don’t feel like talking about Farrah or Violet, the only two women who’ve managed to drive me mad. In fact, I want to forget about them both and just enjoy what’s left of my evening if at all possible.
I let out a sigh before picking up my glass again.
Women.
Chapter Ten
Violet
“Men,” I grumble as I pop another piece of popcorn into my mouth.
I couldn’t sleep so I decided to watch a movie. To save time, I just closed my eyes and picked one randomly from my list, which is how I ended up with Ever After.
Right now, it’s at that scene where the Prince is all alone on a balcony staring at the pouring rain, feeling dejected after Danielle left the ball in tears.
Correction. After he sent her away from the ball in tears.
He could have taken her side. He could have kept her from leaving. Instead, he cast her aside. One minute, he was so madly in love with her that he was willing to endanger foreign relations, and the next he wanted to swat her like a fly.
Why? What is it with men that they can change their minds so easily? They say women change their minds as frequently as they change clothes. Maybe that’s true when it comes to what they want to eat, their taste in fashion, what color they want the new sheets to be. But when it comes to feelings, women don’t turn them off as easily. When they have a crush on someone, they have that crush for a long time. When they fall in love, they cling to love for as long as they can, even after the other person no longer cares about them. At least, that’s what I’ve observed.
Maybe it’s not so much changing minds as having a change of heart.
Whatever it is, it seems it doesn’t take much to make a man turn cold. In the Prince’s case, he can probably be forgiven because he was deceived. But Asher? What did I do to him to make him stop caring?
I leave my hand inside the bowl as I pause to recall how I’ve treated Asher in the past few weeks. I was cold to him when I first arrived at the airport. I refused his apology. I threw his present back at him. I kicked him in the balls.
