The Tycoon's Socialite Bride (Entangled Indulgence) (17 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Last night with Marcus had been incredible. Pamela wanted nothing more than to live the rest of her life with him. She felt cared for and protected in a way she had never experienced. She couldn’t wait until this whole episode was in their rearview mirror and they could begin their future together. With time and work, she knew they would be happy.

Trying to juggle the eggs, cheese, and milk, she backed away from the refrigerator, closing the door with her hip. She’d begun whisking the eggs when she heard the front door open.

“Perfect timing. I’m about to make a couple of omelets. How was your run?” When she didn’t get a response, she frowned. “Marcus?”

Leaving the kitchen, she saw him leaning against the wall in the foyer. God, he was sexy. They’d had a late night. They deserved a lazy day. After breakfast and a shower, they could spend the afternoon watching the Nats. He could finish explaining how sex was like baseball, with the appropriate demonstrations.

Upon closer inspection, she noticed he wasn’t stretching. “What’s wrong, Marcus?”

He straightened and walked toward her, his eyes and mouth downturned. He took her hand. “Let’s sit down.”

Her stomach churned. She followed him to the sofa and sat. “You’re scaring me. Is everything okay?”

“No, I’m fine. Physically.” He swallowed with obvious difficulty. “It’s about the Holcombe deal.”

Cold fingers danced along her spine. She squeezed his hand. “Oh no. Did it fall through? I thought you were signing the contract soon.”

“We are.”

In a burst of motion he got up from the couch and started pacing.

A splinter of distress crawled beneath her skin, bothering her, forcing her to face something she didn’t want to address.

He has the building now, Pamela. He doesn’t need you anymore.

That wasn’t true. What they’d discovered had gone beyond their agreement. They could have kept their relationship platonic. He’d said he wanted to continue their marriage past their business arrangement. He didn’t have to say that to get what he needed.

How else would you explain it?
One day he finds out the Holcombe is his and the next he’s brushing you off.

She could feel the tears gathering at the brink and she tried hard not to let them fall over the edge.

“Did you make the deal with Holcombe?”

He looked at her. “Yes.”

“Are we over?”

“No, not unless you want us to be.”

Relief flooded through her so fast she thought she would faint from it. She laughed and stood up.

“Then what’s the problem? Why are you acting like—”

“Holcombe wants the G Street building.”

Her heart skidded to a stop. “What did you say?”

“The G Street building. Holcombe wants it.”

“He can’t have it. It belongs to the women’s shelter.”

“Holcombe wanted it as one of the concessions in the deal. Either give him the building or lose the deal entirely.”

“That can’t be true. He’s just negotiating. He wants more money.”

“Pamela, you know how important the Holcombe is to me. It was close and I had a decision to make.”

I’ve worked too hard and come too far to let anyone get in my way, no matter how enticing the package.

This wasn’t a discussion. He’d already made a decision.

The numbness started at her toes, at her outer extremities. She flexed her fingers unconsciously.

“You gave it to him?”

“Yes.”

“Guess I should have gotten that contract after all.” She laughed, the hardness of the sound scratching her throat. “I don’t suppose David Holcombe wants a women’s shelter in his building, does he?”

Marcus shook his head slowly. “Probably not.”

“I see,” she said. The coldness progressed farther up her arms and legs. “What am I supposed to tell Shelly? The women and their children?”

He looked away briefly, but brought his gaze back to hers, as if he willed himself to do it.

“That they’ll have to move to a new location.”

“Why didn’t I think of that in the beginning? If I’d found a new place for the shelter I wouldn’t be in this situation. If I’d done that you wouldn’t have your damn hotel!”

He flinched but he didn’t look away from her.

“How can you do this to them? How can you do this to me?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

“I’ve been chasing this for almost two decades. I had no choice.”

The coldness raced through the last of her barriers, freezing her until there was no feeling left. She couldn’t stop the tears. They coursed, unchecked, down her face.

“You don’t have to do this,” she pleaded. “You said your mother could have benefited from a place like the shelter. There are other mothers and children who will need our help. Don’t take this from them.”

“That’s not fair and you know it,” he said, his voice sharp with frustration. “I’m trying, Pamela, but what else can I do? Buy you another building? Consider it done. I’ll even take care of the relocation and pay for advertising to make sure no one is lost during the transition. Whatever it takes.”

“That wasn’t our deal, Marcus. I told you how difficult zoning could be for the shelter.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

She could see it, the glimmer of sorrow in his eyes. It existed. But it wasn’t strong enough to overpower the ruthlessness. She’d failed them, all because she’d made the wrong choice. Again. And this time was worse. Devin had fooled her. Marcus had shown her who he was from the beginning.

“I can’t believe this,” she said, absently rubbing her arms.

“We’re married. That doesn’t have to change.”

“I can’t stay married to you. Not now.”

“It’s just a building. It’s done now. Let’s put it behind us and move forward. It doesn’t have to affect the rest of our lives.”

“Are you
kidding
me? The hotel was your life mission, but my shelter, it’s just a building?” Her tears were bitter on her tongue.

“Pamela—”

“You’ve broken my trust. You’ve broken my heart. Do you believe we could have a relationship—a marriage—after that?”

“Yes. This was a onetime occurrence. We won’t be in this situation again.”

She had no words. She turned away from him and headed to the bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to get dressed, pack a few things, and then I’m leaving.”

“Not like this. Please!”

“How can I stay? You knew how I would feel and you did it anyway.” She swiped angrily at the tears still streaming from her eyes. “I spent my entire life with a father who never put me first, who chose ‘the American people’ over me time and time again. Now you’ve done the same thing. You put yourself ahead of me. If I accept this now, you’ll always do it.”

His tension was visible in his corded neck muscles. “I am not your father, Pamela. You know how important this was to me. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the building for the shelter, but I promise, I’ll find a way to fix this.”

“Was the building more important to you than me?” He stumbled back a few steps and she forged ahead, pressing her advantage. “With my father it was always
important
. Every time he missed something or forgot me, it was for something
important
. So answer me, was getting the Holcombe more important than keeping me? Was it more important than keeping your wife? Was it more important than keeping the woman who loves you?”

Shock darkened his blue eyes, making it impossible to read any other emotion whirling in their stormy depths.

“I—” he croaked.

“I guess so.” Her body ballooned with despair. She had to get out of there, could feel the breakdown coming and couldn’t be anywhere near him when it happened. She opened the door.

“Pamela, I don’t want this to be over.”

“You’re a coward, Marcus. Those words are empty platitudes. Of course you wanted this to be over.”

…

“I reviewed the final contract and everything is in order. I e-mailed you a copy. Did you look at it?”

Marcus didn’t respond to Carter’s question. He kept his back to his friend, his gaze trained on the golden spire in the distance.

After all these years, it would finally be his.

Carter cleared his throat. “Have you seen Pamela?”

He looked away from the window. “No.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“No.” It had been four days. Like a timekeeper, he was aware of every day, hour, and minute that passed since their confrontation. He mistakenly thought a few hours to calm down would help her to understand his position. But she never returned. The light and energy her presence created had been extinguished.

“She didn’t take the news well?”

“We’re not talking about this.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to let her get away because of a building.”

“That building is important to me!”

Even he was getting tired of that statement. He’d said that exact sentence, or some variation, countless times over the years.

“Important enough to risk your happiness?”

After his father died, there was no happiness, only a churning feeling in his midsection, driving him to work harder, to be better. So one day he could stand before David Holcombe and prove him wrong.

He
mattered
. He
was
somebody.

But the storm in his stomach had calmed ever since Pamela charged onto the golf course, shifting his focus and changing his mind. Work had been his entire life, but he’d downsized its importance. Eating dinner and then sitting next to her on the sofa while he did work and she watched one of her god-awful reality shows had become the highlight of his week.

But it wasn’t real. He’d thought it was, but he’d been wrong.

“You don’t have to understand my decisions to do your job. What time is the meeting?”

“In an hour.”

“Focus on my business concerns, not my personal ones.”

There was no sound for a full minute. Had Carter left? Marcus turned in his chair and found the other man staring at him, his lips pressed tight. Finally, Carter stood.

“I’ll have Julia buzz you when we’re settled in the conference room.”

Marcus turned back to his view and focused on the golden spire.

“A Holcombe has been the owner and operator of the hotel for three generations,” David Holcombe said. “I couldn’t bear to part with it if I wasn’t sure it was going to a quality family.”

The emphasis the man put on the word “quality” irked Marcus. He stood in the corner of the conference room, his eyes still on the spire. Behind him the muffled roll of caster wheels on carpet indicated people taking a seat at the long table. He heard the murmurs of assistants offering the guests coffee and water.

“We’re ready,” Carter said, his voice cool and professional.

Marcus nodded and kept his eyes on the spire.

“Any thoughts on the Pearson reign of ownership? I have some ideas that might help you get it ready for the next generation, but they’re only opinions. After all, she’s your baby now.”

There was no mistaking the glee in Holcombe’s voice and it was that tone of triumph, more than his words, that caused Marcus to turn and frown at his nemesis. None of his dreams about this moment ever involved Holcombe being happy with the outcome.

For the first time, he noticed that in addition to Holcombe and his legal entourage, Vivian had a seat at the table. Marcus inclined his head in her direction.

“I didn’t know we were inviting our wives to the meeting.” He ignored the prick of pain the mention of spouses elicited.

“Vivian is…uh…participating in our transaction. When you transfer the new building over to me, it will go into her name, not mine.” He smiled and dabbed at his forehead with a pocket square. “A business decision, that’s all.”

Despite his smile, displeasure hovered around Holcombe’s eyes. In that moment, Marcus needed this meeting to be concluded. He wanted the papers signed and the Holcombes out of his sight. He nodded at Carter, who moved to the front of the room.

“Let’s get started.” Carter pointed to the legal assistants standing against the wall. They circled the table, handing out gold-embossed leather portfolios. “You’re receiving a copy of the contract. If you turn to page one…”

Marcus tuned him out.

He’d made the right choice. The only choice. When he got the Holcombe, everything would be made right.

He waited.

For the sense of accomplishment to flow over him. For the sense of peace to confirm he’d finally accomplished his goal. For the feeling of satisfaction for proving Holcombe wrong.

He stood there and waited. Nothing came.

His head was filled with thoughts of Pamela. Was she at the shelter? Or had she gone back to the estate? Wherever she was, whatever she was doing, he was certain she never wanted to see him again. He recalled the look on her face when he told her he’d given the building to Holcombe.

I’m pretty sure your mom wouldn’t want you to do this for her. No matter what she went through with Holcombe, she would want you to be happy, to go on with your life.

Was Pamela right?

“Now you’ll notice here, under clause twenty-eight, subsection B, we’ve included the stipulations regarding…”

In a matter of minutes, a years-long dream would be realized.

And he didn’t care.

She said he’d broken her heart…that she loved him. A woman who in no way resembled the selfish, brainless socialite he’d assumed her to be. A woman who’d possessed the strength to go against everyone in her life to help women and children in need.