Page 42 of Tender Temptation

I let out a heavy sigh and fling the door open. “What the fuck?”

“Uh, can you put some fucking pants on, man? I don’t need to see your morning wood.” While I pull on some joggers, Brock grabs a chair, spins it around, and sits down, leaning his arms on the backrest. “I’ve decided. You can’t let this Ivy bullshit ruin you, Kill. You’ve got to sign the contract with Bright Shipping. It’s a huge opportunity.”

“I know,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “The only thing keeping me from signing is how am I supposed to work with Stanley Bright knowing what happened with Ivy? How am I supposed to look him in the eye?”

Brock’s gaze is steady. “You do what you’ve always done. You get the job done. You’re a professional, Cillian. You can’t let your personal feelings screw this up. Remember.You. Did. Nothing. Wrong.”

The impact of my best friend’s words resonate. He’s right. This contract is too important to let go because of my tangled emotions. I’ll focus on the business and making McGloughlin Construction the success I’ve always dreamed it would be.

“I’m signing the contract.” My voice is firm. “I’ll do the best damn job I can. I’ll make sure Stanley sees me as an asset.”

Brock smiles. “I like your spirit. Don’t let a summer fling ruin everything you’ve worked for.”

My heart aches at the term “summer fling,” but I push the pain aside. Ivy might have lied to me, but I won’t let her deceit define me. I have to be stronger.

“Yeah. I’ll do what I’ve done for years.” I grab a T-shirt from my dresser. “I’ll keep things professional. Pretend like nothing ever happened. I’ve got Stanley Bright’s trust and I’m the man for this job, there’s no need to do anything to fuck it up.”

Brock stands up and heads for the door. “Awesome. Glad to hear it. You’ve got this. Don’t let anything stand in your way.”

Though my head is pounding, after a shower, a couple Tylenol and a bottle of water, I’m as good as new. The road ahead won’t be easy, and the ghost of my love for Ivy will haunt me, but I can’t let it break me. I have to keep moving forward, for the sake of the business and for my own sanity.

I may not have all the answers, and the pain of Ivy’s betrayal will linger for a long fucking time, but I won’t let it destroy me.

I’ll turn this into a victory, no matter what it takes.

nineteen

Ivy

A Few Days Later

I haven’t been ableto get out of bed.

Not since I saw Cillian at the office earlier this week.

My heart aches for him, but what started as a way for me to break free from my father’s control has mushroomed into a disaster.

Seeing Cillian at the meeting shocked me to the core. I knew he had some big project in the works, but had no clue it was building my father’s new headquarters. Coming faceto face with him before I could explain what happened was mortifying.

But nothing could have prepared me for my dad’s oblivious introduction. I watched Cillian’s face morph from surprise, to confusion, to devastation and finally horror when he found out who I really am. And how old I am.

Watching his reaction, I fully comprehended how my lies hurt the people I love the most.

I’m ruined.

Despite every one of my dad’s threats, for the past few days I’ve been buried under my comforter, trying to block out the world. The memory of Cillian’s pained face haunts me. It’s unbearable. I can’t believe how badly I’ve messed my life up.

A gentle knock on the door barely registers until my mom’s voice cuts through the fog of my despair. “Ivy, can I come in?”

Fuck her. What’s she doing back? The woman’s barely acknowledged my existence for over five years. I don’t respond, hoping she’ll take the hint and leave me alone. But she doesn’t. I hear her footsteps as she approaches the bed.

“I brought you something from Paris.” She approaches and I hear her place something on the floor. “A few items from Givenchy’s new collection.”

I peek out from under the covers. “When did you get home?”

“A few minutes ago.” She sits on the edge of the bed. “I came back as soon as your dad told me what’s going on.”

We used to be close, but her presence isn’t a comfort anymore. More like another source of anxiety. I haven’t really talk-talked to her in years. She’s been lost in her grief over my brother, leaving me to fend for myself in the gilded cage my father calls protection.

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