Mr. Corporate (Mister #3) (33 page)

“You don’t need me.”

“Why do you say that? I mean, I love you, Weston. I have always loved you. Before I even knew you were handsome. I met you in the dark when you were crashing. I didn’t know you had money, or good looks, or grand aspirations. But I knew, that night when we were sitting under those trees, that I was going to love you. That you would be my best friend forever. And when it started falling apart I used to cry, you know. Just cry about how lonely I would be when you finally moved on. When you got tired of me.”

“Tori,” he says, reaching for my hand. “I just want to give you a better life. That’s all. I don’t want to capture your heart, I want you to hand it over.”

“But you never asked what a better version of my life was. You never asked me anything back then. You wanted a family. OK, I do too. But I have a different vision of what family means, West.”

“I know that,” he says. “I mean, I guess I didn’t then. But I realize it now. I’m just so tired of hearing you say no to my help. Why can’t you just accept it with grace? Just say, ‘Thank you, West. I needed that right now.’ And let it go? Not have my help be an assault on your independence?”

“I don’t want to stay home with kids, West.”

“How can you say that? Your dream, from what I can tell, is nothing
but
staying home with kids. Just not
your
kids. So where’s the logic in that? Tell me. Please. I’m dying to know, Tori. Because it makes no sense. It makes absolutely no sense that you want to have this home for neglected kids and you don’t want to have a home for your own kids. If you don’t want kids, OK. I’m not happy about that. But OK. I can deal. I can deal with adoption if that’s your path and you can’t stray from it. But don’t tell me no just because you think I’m some kind of woman-hating asshole. I don’t hate women. I don’t hate you, for fuck’s sake. I just want to provide for you, that’s all. I want to give you the life my father never gave my mother. I want you to have the family I never did.”

“Don’t you see the irony in that? You were adopted. It was illegal, and I’ll never look at your parents the same again. But you were adopted.”

“I’m all for adoption,” he says, sounding exasperated. “I am. But if that’s your only option, then say so. If you don’t want to have my children, say so and we can start from there.”

I let out a heavy, tired sigh. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

“I don’t want to fight with you either. I want to take you home, carry you up the stairs, lay you down on my bed, and make love to you all damn night. Every night, Tori. Every night for the rest of our lives. Why is that forbidden?”

“I just want you to ask—”

“Ask?” he says, his voice rising. “I’ve asked you to marry me six fucking times. I’ve gotten down on my knee six times. I’ve asked over dinner. I’ve baked the fucking ring in a cake. I’ve done it on Valentine’s Day and Christmas Eve. I did it over a romantic weekend away and I’ve done it while we were cooking ramen noodles in that crappy-ass apartment in New York. How many other ways can I do it?”

“No.” I laugh.

“It’s not funny, Victoria. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to have the woman you love turn you down for marriage six times?”

“I’m not laughing. I swear.” He’s hurt. I can tell. He’s hurt and he has every right to be.

“I mean, I guess I get it now. You had Lucio Gori hanging over your head. You were looking over your shoulder. But we’re going to take care of him, Tori.
We
,” he stresses, “will take care of him. Me and Match, and Mysterious, and Five. Us. Not you, dammit. Not
you
.”

I fall silent. Trying to put it into words.

“Say something,” he says, so, so, so ready for me to give in. “Anything.”

“I’m just trying to figure out why I said no, that’s all.”

“Do you have an answer? Was it him?”

“No,” I say, then correct myself quickly. “No, not really him. Or… not
just
him. It’s… hard to explain. When you asked it felt like it comes with so many expectations. Mostly changes. And I’m just being honest when I say I wasn’t sure if I was on board with those changes.”

“So you don’t want to get married?”

“I… might.”

“Might?” he says, looking over at me with a scowl.

“West, when you were asking, it never
felt
like you were asking. It felt like it was expected. My yes answer was expected.”

“Fuck.” He laughs as he gets off the freeway and heads up towards some hills. “It never felt expected to me. Unless you count all the ways I imagined you saying no and then I went ahead and asked anyway.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. And I am. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just needed to feel like we were entering this new relationship as partners. Not as husband and wife.”

“What else can I call it then?” he asks. “Huh? If you don’t like husband and wife, just pick two more titles and I’m on board. We can be cat and dog if you want. I don’t give a fuck what you call us.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then explain. Please. Because from my end, Tori, it looks like you’re saying no just to be on the safe side. You think I might mow you down. OK, I get it. But I promise, I don’t want that. And after that last time I came to the conclusion you just like to hear yourself say no. No is your safe word, Victoria Arias. No, no, no, no, no. If you say no, you’re safe. Isn’t that right?”

I want to dismiss him immediately and say no. But… that’s stupid. Because he might have a point. “I say yes a lot too, you know.”

“Yeah,” he says, sadness creeping into his voice as he pulls up to a guard house in front of a gated community. “You say yes a lot when it comes to sex. But I don’t only want your body, Victoria. I want your heart. And I just can’t seem to capture it. It’s something very elusive and I just don’t have the right equipment, or lure, or whatever it is you want.” He lets out a long, tired breath of air.

Before I can answer he tabs the window and it slides down, where a serious-looking man in a dark blue uniform is peering inside.

“Oh, hey, West. Haven’t seen you in a while. Got a new car, huh?”

“Nah, it’s my friend’s car. Just got in from the Bahamas. Really tired, so sorry I can’t stay and chat.”

The security guy gives him a little salute and says, “No problem,” as he talks into the radio attached to his shoulder. The gate opens and he waves us forwards.

West calls out, “Thanks,” as he slides the window up again.

“That’s some serious security you’ve got here,” I say.

“Yeah, well. If we had kids, I wanted them to be safe in this city. I wanted all of us to feel safe in this city, Tori. That’s all. And I had the money, so why not? Although what will happen to this house if they really did steal it all away is a thought for another day.”

I pout a little at all that. He’s been planning our future this whole time? “Kids with me?” I ask, just to be clear.

“Who else, Victoria? It’s not like I date much. And believe me, I’ll never ask another woman to marry me. Ever. It’s you or I’m gonna be alone for the rest of my life. I can’t fake it. Not after I found the real thing and lost.”

We are silent as he navigates his way through the community, the only sound an occasional jet taking off from the nearby airport. That must be Burbank. And with that thought everything that happened earlier comes rushing back.

We are going to New York tomorrow on the Mister jet. And one way or another, Lucio Gori will be confronted. Should I let West have his way? Just once? Would it kill me to just let him call the shots?

He pulls into a driveway where a white Tudor-style house is elegantly lit up. The spotlights highlight the tall two-story front windows and the perfectly placed palm trees. There’s a shimmer on the side of the house that tells me an equally perfect swimming pool is waiting in back. And when West gets out and comes around to my side to open my door, I have a sick feeling of regret in the pit of my stomach.

Was I wrong to say no?

No. That’s not what I’m asking myself at all.

I’m asking myself if this relationship can be saved. Somehow, some way. Can we salvage something and find a future together?

I
was
wrong to say no.

He is, and has always been, the perfect man for me.

Chapter Forty-Four - Weston

I’m nervous as I open the front door and wave her forward. Why?
Why
? So many reasons why. Everything in here is about Victoria Arias. Everything.

“Wow,” Tori says, her fingertips lingering on the white linen fabric upholstery of the straight-backed chairs that welcome her to my home. “This is beautiful.”

“Thanks,” I say, dropping my keys into a porcelain dish on the small table that sits between the chairs. “I wanted a mudroom, but this house doesn’t really lend itself to one in the traditional sense. So this is it. Just a place to stop and check your hair before a date.”

“Oh,” Tori says, looking in the mirror above the table and wincing. “Jesus. I shouldn’t have looked.”

“Stop,” I chide her. This woman can’t look anything but beautiful to my eyes. I don’t care if her hair is a wild mess. I like it that way. It reminds me of better days. Days when I had her all to myself. When I knew every night I’d fall asleep to the rhythm of her breathing and wake up craving the moans of her arousal.

“So…” she says, turning away from the mirror to face me. “Do you check your hair there often?”

I smile. “It’s not for me, silly. It’s for you.”

“Well.” She chuckles. “Sorry, I don’t get a lot of chances to use it.”

“Hopefully that will change now. Come in, please. Want the tour?”

“Yeah,” she says with a sigh as she takes in the room.

It’s the effect I was looking for when I furnished this place.

“It’s so… not really you, Corporate. I was expecting something like your friend’s house back in Del Mar. Something modern and over the top. But this place is… anything but that. Hey,” she says, walking forward quickly towards the center of the room. “Is this is the coffee table we bought at that antique mart in Albany?”

“Yeah,” I say. “The one and only.”

“Oh, my God. You still have that trunk too!” She laughs with excitement as she walks over to it, and again, her fingertips touch it like it’s something that needs to be felt. “Remember how much I wanted to use this for that practice honeymoon we took? Ha! Those people on that island would’ve laughed their heads off at me.”

“I wanted you to take it.”

“I know. I can’t trust you. That would’ve been a mistake.” She sighs again. “Well, I’m glad you still have some of our old stuff. Glad it didn’t all go in the trash.”

“Trash?” I ask. “
Trash
? Please. I saved everything, Tori. I have everything we bought together over the years. And if you look at my life close enough, you’ll find it’s all still here.”

“What? Are you serious? Jesus, I thought for sure you’d throw it all away after that last break-up.”

It was an epic break-up, that’s for sure. Dishes flew like crazy. Stiletto heels dented the walls in that old apartment we were renting. She was so angry with me. I was so furious with her.

It wasn’t pretty.

“I felt a little sad when you left it all behind, to be honest.”

Tori has picked up a pillow off the couch, another one of our shared treasures, and she’s pressing it to her cheek to feel the soft fabric when my words come out. She lowers the pillow and looks at me. “Why? I figured it was best to forget, you know? I didn’t want to be reminded of all the ways we fucked it up.”

“I guess we’re different in yet another way as well,” I say, some sadness creeping into my voice. “Because I never wanted to forget. I only wanted to remember. Even if we had a lot of bad times, we had a lot of good ones too. Moments worth making are moments worth remembering. That’s why I kept everything.”

She sets the pillow back down on the couch and wanders into the dining room. “I bet this house is a fabulous place for a party. The rooms are all open. You can cook and talk to guests at the same time. Never missing out on the fun and conversation.”

“Or watch children when you prepare grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch.”