Page 45 of Sweet Surrender

“Would you mind a little advice from someone older and wiser?” I eyed him warily but nodded. How much worse could it get? He angled his body on the barstool until he faced me straight-on. Aside from the lines at the corners of his eyes and the silver running through his dark hair, I could’ve been looking in a mirror. “I respect everything you did to clear up your image, and I’m sure the money you donated to all those causes will do a lot of good for a lot of people. If nothing else, you’ve got that to hang onto.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a but hanging in the air?”

His lips twitched before he shrugged. “But there’s another way to go about this. I wonder if you’ve considered it.”

“What would that be? I’m all ears.”

Shrugging, he said, “Come clean. Tell the truth.”

“I’m not trying to hide anything from anyone.”

Arching an eyebrow, he countered, “Are you sure? Because from what I can tell, all you’ve done so far is bend over backward to change public perception. Why not come out and say yes, I know I fucked up? Yes, I’m a human being like anyone else. Before you can tell me you aren’t…” he added with a growl. “I’m here to tell you you’re wrong. You’re just like anybody else. Just as vulnerable to mistakes. And if it was a mistake, being with Sienna, come out and admit it. That’s all you have to do. No more lies, no more trying to bend public perception to your will.”

“If only it were that simple.” I finished what was left in my glass and placed it on the bar with a thump. Funny, the way it brought to mind the banging of a gavel.

“It doesn’t have to be difficult,” he pointed out. “Come clean. Own up to your mistakes. That’s what a man does.”

The problem was I didn’t see Sienna as a mistake. What we had was not a mistake. How could it be when it hurt so fucking bad to be without her? I couldn’t shrug this off and pretend it was all a matter of an intense physical connection, a chemistry I had become addicted to indulging in. I wouldn’t be that blasé about it now. Too much had changed. It wasn’t her body I missed. I did miss it, of course, but I missed her more.

Her shrewd intelligence, her knack for calling me on my bullshit, her sense of humor. I wasn’t afraid to be seen, to be known by her. Life was pale and sad without her in it. Even my work, which not long ago had been the focal point of my existence, didn’t carry the same weight. Striving for my first billion? It was a goal, but the meaning behind it was gone if there was ever a meaning in the first place.

Dad waited for me to think this through before clapping a hand over my shoulder. “Listen. If you could build a nearly billion-dollar business from the ground up before you’ve hit thirty, you can do this. I have faith in you.”

Of all times for him to tell me that. “You’re right,” I decided, bolstered by his long-overdue praise. All I had to do was figure out how to make it work.

If I couldn’t make things right with the woman I suspected I loved, what was the point of anything?

21

SIENNA

“This is exactly what I needed. I’m just glad you let me take your place.” Stretching out my legs in front of me, I admired the jet’s interior for the hundredth time since takeoff. “Are you sure you don’t hate me for touring the resort instead of you?”

Jules coughed loudly into the phone. Technology was incredible. I could hear her as clearly as if she were sitting on the jet with me, though I was already thousands of miles away. “It’s not your fault, babe. It’s this damn flu bug. At least one of us can go out there and review the resort.”

I spent a lot of time handholding and babysitting fragile clients, but opportunities like this one offset the teeth-grinding I did most days of the week. A client of ours was opening a new resort in the Maldives, which happened to be one of my favorite vacation places in the entire world. We would recommend the resort to our other clients, encourage them to visit and spread the word to their friends, meaning more publicity.

The company had sent a private jet to fly me out there, and I sat back with champagne roughly halfway through the flight. One day, maybe once I was my parents’ age, I would take more time for this kind of thing and enjoying the fruits of all my labor.

First, I’d have to hold onto my company, though things were looking good. A few prospects who’d seemed eager to sign on with us had suddenly changed their minds in the days since the tabloid photos were published, but our faithful, satisfied base seemed happy to stick around. Nobody could argue with our results.

“Have fun, test all the amenities, and try not to get a wicked sunburn,” Jules advised. I promised I would do my best before ending the call to watch a movie. There was plenty of time to kill.

And I needed the distraction.

I couldn’t get a grip on my brain anymore. I couldn’t discipline myself enough to keep my thoughts from drifting to Noah at the most inconvenient times.

An entire week had passed without hearing from him, though his CFO had reached out to let us know they found their culprit. The issue with the photos in the tabloids had blown over, thanks to a flurry of activity on our end. We had gone full-court press on a handful of other clients in hopes of flushing the story about Noah and me out of the news cycle, and the tactic had worked like a charm. It had served us well more times than I could count over the years. I never figured I would have to use it for myself.

Everything had gone back to normal. I had to remind myself of that, and it was becoming something close to a chant in my head. Nothing changed. Everything was the same. I had my business, Noah had his, and our lives were back on track just as they had been before.

If only I could erase the past several weeks, going back to the first night at Club Caramel. There was no going back to living life as I had before now that I knew how much better, brighter, and more exciting it could be.

Settling back in the seat, my arms around myself, I gazed out the window at the endless stretch of clouds under the jet. It was all sunny and bright up here, far above it all.

Was he thinking about me? Wondering what I was doing, how I was handling things? He hadn’t called to find out, but then I had shut and locked that door on my own. He had wanted to talk, and I had made that impossible. There was nobody but myself to blame.

The worst part? I couldn’t forget him. This wasn’t like the average ruined relationship, where both parties could go their merry way and avoid each other. I would never be rid of him. We shared too much history. If Rose and Colton ever got married, I had no doubt Noah would be his best man. We would be thrust together time and again unless I moved across the country or something. Since that wasn’t going to happen, I had no choice but to look forward to years of looking at him and seeing our past.

---