I flick through the television channels, trying to find something to lull my brain toward sleep. After flying back to London from Germany this morning, then having a full day of meetings, I’m struggling to switch off. I’ve also been waiting for a call, so when my phone rings, I swipe it off the side table. “Did he accept?” I ask without bothering to say hello.
Roman’s voice comes out clearly through the phone speaker. “He did,” he says, and I let out a silent sigh of relief. “If he admits his guilt and pays a forty-five million dollar fine, his prison sentence will be reduced from twenty years to eight.”
“Fuck. Eight years?” We knew they wouldn’t go easy on him, not when government contracts were involved, but still . . . As much as I meant it when I told Delilah I didn’t care what happened to Dad, I can’t imagine how he’s feeling right now. Then again, I can’t imagine what he was thinking, getting involved in insider trading to begin with. His arrogance convinced him he would never get caught, and look where that’s gotten him. Sitting in a damn prison cell for eight years.
“The news will break soon,” Roman says. “Do you have a sense of how our investors will take it?”
“There’s obviously some concern. A lot of them have adopted a wait-and-see attitude so far. I’ve been prepping them for a guilty verdict and reassuring them that it won’t change anything. That Dad’s actions were his and his alone and not a reflection of the King Group’s business practices.”
“Any talk of withdrawing?”
“There were some rumblings at the start, but I emphasized that even with the change in leadership, we’re continuing to operate at expected levels, and that we’ll honor all our financial commitments. It seems to have eased concerns. If we can get through the next few weeks with no major setbacks, everyone will relax, and we can finally move on from this.”
Roman lets out a heavy sigh. “That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear. Not that I had any doubts you’d pull it off.”
That glimmer of pride is back, but I shrug it off. “You sound tired. How are things back there?”
“Everyone wants to see progress with the hotel project.” He pauses for a beat. “Berrington is pushing for us to bring forward the groundbreaking for the first three hotels.”
I frown. “Why? Our current timeline is realistic and exactly what we put forward when we went through the equity financing process.”
“I had that conversation with him. I get the sense he’s looking for an excuse to pull his investment, but so far, we haven’t given him one.”
I scrub my hand over my face. “Having a major investor bail right now is the last thing we need. Did he give any indication as to why? The King Group has made him a lot of money over the years.”
Roman is silent, thinking, I assume. “It’s rumored that he’s considering increasing his investment in Steele Enterprises.”
“Our profitability and revenue growth projections outstrip Steele Enterprises’. He knows that.”
“Agreed. But Steele Enterprises is still performing well in the current market. And Jake Steele is Berrington’s cousin by marriage. I wouldn’t put it past Steele to use the situation with Dad’s arrest to put pressure on that relationship. With Berrington getting closer to retirement, there’s a good chance he’s putting greater stock in personal relationships than in financial metrics these days.”
“He was college buddies with Dad.”
“Exactly. But he’s not dealing with Dad anymore, is he?” Roman’s frustration pours through the phone line.
“I can set up a meeting with him when I get back,” I offer.
“I plan to have lunch with him tomorrow. I’ll test the waters to see what he’s really after, because I don’t think he actually cares about the groundbreaking date.”
“Okay. Let me know how it goes and if you need me to meet with him.”
“Will do.” His voice has gone distant, his attention moved elsewhere, but just before I’m about to end the conversation, he comes back. “Can you call Mom? I haven’t had a chance to talk to her since Dad took the plea bargain.”
Talking to Mom is the last thing I feel like doing. Still, I agree, and then we end the call.
Just as it does every night, the urge to speak to Delilah rises in me. She’s gotten under my skin in a way I never thought was possible. I’d much rather talk to her than Mom, but I’ve made a point to avoid calling her while I’ve been gone. As if the minute I dial her number because I can’t stand not hearing her voice any longer, I won’t be able to deny what this thing between us has become.
My fingers move over the screen as I pull up our message history, then scroll back to the one where she told me she missed me. I almost hadn’t replied, but the thought of leaving her hanging after she put herself out there like that had sent a stab of pain through me. Not that I would have said it back if it wasn’t true. The problem is, it’s too fucking true.
To distract myself from dwelling on the implications of that, I pull up Mom’s number and call it, hitting speaker and putting my phone on the side table. Then I swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit with my elbows resting on my thighs as I wait for her to answer.
“Cole.”
I roll my eyes at the lack of warmth in her voice. “Hi, Mom. Have the lawyers been in touch with you about Dad?”
She lets out an impatient sigh. “Of course. Eight years. It’s about what the idiot deserves.”
“I’m sure he appreciates your sympathy.”
“If he wanted my sympathy, he should have restricted himself to buying his whores diamonds instead of trying to set them up for life.”
She’s not wrong. But it makes me wonder what she’s bought the men she’s had affairs with over the years. What did she get for Tate’s dad?
“Suffice it to say, I’ll be serving your father with divorce papers first thing tomorrow.”
The news is hardly a surprise. It’s not as if their marriage has ever been anything more than a matter of convenience, and my father has just stopped being convenient. It was only a matter of time after Dad was found guilty, or in this case, admitted his guilt. “I’m sure he’ll be expecting it.”
She sniffs. “He’s lucky I held off as long as I did.”
“Well, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” I say. “Obviously you are, so, considering it’s eleven-thirty p.m. here, I’ll say goodbye.”
There’s a long pause and I glance at my phone to check it’s still connected. Hesitation isn’t exactly Mom’s style. “How are you and your brothers doing with . . . everything?” she finally says.
Now it’s my turn to search for words. I don’t remember the last time she voluntarily asked any of us how we were doing. I clear my throat. “I’m okay. I’ve got back-to-back meetings with all our investors over here. I’ll have to do some more damage control once the news spreads about Dad’s plea bargain. Roman is dealing with some shit from Berrington, but I’m sure he’ll handle it. And Tate . . . Well, Tate is Tate. Not much seems to faze him.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re all doing well, but I should go,” she says, and I almost laugh. She’s obviously reached the extent of her motherly concern. Which, considering she normally has none, is impressive. “I’m having dinner with the Jeffersons tonight. I’m sure they’ll ask about your father, so I’m going to have a glass of wine beforehand.”
“Good idea. The Jeffersons are painful at the best of times.”
After we say our farewells, I turn the phone in my hands as I stare into the dimly lit room. Having Mom ask about how my brothers and I are doing when there’s no one else around to keep up appearances for is unusual, and I’m not sure what it means. Is it just an aberration or is being away from Dad softening her a little? Or is it possible that what Delilah said during our last lunch together made some kind of impact?
I shake my head. I’m obviously reading into it too much. Being around someone as caring as Delilah has me seeing signs of affection in others that aren’t really there. For all I know, this was just a one-off because of the recent events with Dad.
But now Delilah’s on my mind again. Not that she seems to be off it much these days. I open my phone again and pull up her number. I stare at it, the same debate I’ve had every night running through my head. It’s been six days since I’ve heard her voice. Only four more days before I’ll be back in the US, and she’ll be back in my bed. I’ve made it this long; I can last four more days. My finger hovers over the screen for another moment, ready to close everything down and go to sleep. And then I’m hitting call and leaning back against the headboard as I wait for her to pick up.
“Hi, Cole. I’m so happy you called.”
Her soft, sweet voice sends a rush of warmth spreading through me. Fuck, I’m in so much trouble. “How are you?” I ask.
“I’m good. Working hard to get the detailed designs done so they can get signed off by the deadline.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage it. Don’t work too hard. Make sure to take a break.”
“Yes, Dad,” she teases.
An unexpected grin spreads across my face. “You could at least go with daddy.”
She laughs. “I didn’t take you as the daddy type.”
“You’re right. Let’s avoid daddy.”
“How are you doing, anyway?” she asks.
I rub my hand over my face. “Roman called. Dad took the plea bargain today.”
“Oh, Cole. Are you okay?”
I have to stop and think. Am I okay? When Mom asked how I was doing before, I told her about work. I didn’t stop to assess how I’m feeling about everything, and I doubt I would have shared it with her regardless. But with Delilah . . .
“I don’t know. I feel . . . conflicted. There’s never been any love lost between us. I respected him as a businessman, but I didn’t love him as a father. And now, any respect I had for him has been destroyed.”
“That makes sense. What he did was selfish.”
“Exactly. My brothers and I were raised to put the company above everything else. It’s our name. Our legacy. It’s the only damn thing holding this family together, and he risked it all. For what? For women that weren’t his wife. Women he had no connection with other than the physical. I can’t reconcile his behavior.”
“I guess the only thing I can say is that people are complicated. Don’t drive yourself crazy trying to make sense of his behavior. Sometimes you can’t. Sometimes you just have to accept that people make selfish decisions all the time without thinking or caring about the consequences for the people they’re supposed to love the most. Family should always come first. Maybe that’s a lesson your father never truly learned.”
She’s right. Family was never Dad’s priority; it was the wealth and the power he craved. The women were just part of that. Another way to bolster his ego.
“Is your mom okay?”
Trust her to ask, even though Mom was rude to her the only time they’ve met. “She’s divorcing him.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised.”
I didn’t know how much I needed to hear Delilah’s voice until I realize that, for the first time in days, all the tension has left my muscles. I don’t want to waste the short time I have to talk to her on the topic of my mom and dad. “Enough about my parents. What are you wearing?”
A laugh bursts out of her, the sound bright and beautiful in this dark room. “You didn’t just ask that.”
“I did. Are you going to tell me?’
“Mmm, let me see,” she purrs seductively down the line, and I love that she knows me well enough to let me change the topic and not press for more. “I’m wearing a sexy set of koala pajama shorts. And a white T-shirt with a stain of indeterminate origin over my left breast.”
I grin at the picture she paints, but I lower my voice. “If I was there, I’d rip those koala shorts off you and have my way with you.”
“Would you want me to leave my shirt on?”
“Definitely. There’s nothing I find sexier than stained white T-shirts.”
She laughs again. When she speaks, her voice is soft, and I can hear the smile in it. “I like you like this.”
Without even being here, she soothes parts of me I didn’t know needed soothing. I tip my head back, close my eyes, and do my best not to let on how her words affect me. “And here I was thinking you like when I tell you to bend over and take my cock.”
“That too.”
Her breathless tone has me hardening, and I rub my hand over myself. “Are you alone?”
My hopes are dashed when she replies. “No. Alex is here. We’re actually just about to have dinner.”
“That’s a shame. I’ll have to take care of this on my own, then. At least I know exactly what I’ll imagine while I stroke myself tonight.”
“What’s that?”
“You, spread out in front of me in that sexy, stained T-shirt.”
She laughs. “The stain really does it for you, huh?”
Before I can answer, I hear Alex telling Delilah that their dinner’s ready. We say goodbye, and after I hang up, the silence in the room seems louder than it was before.
I close my eyes and let my head fall back. I have to face the truth. My craving for her isn’t fading. It’s only growing stronger, even now, with time and distance between us. I need to figure out what the hell I’m going to do about it because at the moment, I feel like I’m standing at the edge of a ravine, one step away from plummeting over the edge.
And I have no fucking idea what I’ll find at the bottom.
