Page 56 of Sweet Nothings

I want to be better than my father. I want to take his company and increase our profits and footprint tenfold. But I know to get there, I can’t risk taking a break. Even if only for a day. I’d already left the company in limbo for thirty days.

Jam packed with meetings from morning until night means I haven’t seen much of Laurel. I’ve relied on her texts. I’ve relied on seeing her in my bed, sleeping as if she’s belonged there all along. Because she has. My body aches for her, and my cock is pleading to be inside her again, but I’ve also allowed the fear to creep in again. The same fear I had the night of the wedding. I don’t want Laurel thinking I’ve taken our arranged marriage as permission to touch her whenever I want if that isn’t the kind of marriage she had in mind.

It's been a battle between my heart and my dick, but I don’t want her thinking she’s going to get the Lennon she’s known in the past, so I’ve slowed things down a bit. Though even I have to admit it’s too slow.

“Lennon?” Micah calls me, pulling me from my thoughts.

I look around the room. Tyson is no longer sitting beside Micah. Everyone else has already left. It’s just my brother and me.

“Oh, shit.” I run a hand down the side of my face. Exhaustion settles in my bones. “I didn’t realize everyone left.”

“Tyson said he was going to compile a spreadsheet of all the financial details of these new accounts and email them over to you.”

“Good.” I sigh, flicking my wrist to read the time. “Our next client should be here in an hour. I have a few emails to sendoff, so I’ll meet you back here.” I stand from my place at the conference table and head back to my office with my phone in hand.

Micah follows me, sliding his hands into the pockets of his suit as we walk.

“Do you remember Archer Mayfield?” he asks.

I nod. “Isn’t he your childhood best friend or something?”

Unlocking my phone, I check to make sure I didn’t miss any messages from Laurel. I didn’t. The last message I have from her is the one where she sent me a picture of the lavender flower I’d taken from the greenhouse. She slid it into the sleeve of one of the vinyl records she’d found on a shelf in the living room, next to my mother’s old record player. I laughed at the picture of the album cover under a heavy abstract marble statue one of my decorators must have bought to make my place appear more personal. Or some shit like that.

Laurel told me it was the only solution she came up with when she realized I wasn’t lying when I told her I didn’t own a single book—a problem she said she was going to rectify immediately. I sent her a message this morning letting her know I was going to call her after my first meeting of the day, but she never responded.

“Dude, are you listening?” Micah asks, annoyed. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for the past week. Now that you’re out of your sticky situation, we can.”

“I’m sorry. I haven’t heard from Laurel today.”

“How’s that going, by the way?” Micah prods. “How’s married life been?”

I take a deep breath, not wanting to pour my heart out to my little brother. I can’t tell him I’ve fallen for my wife. Not when said wife isn’t supposed to mean more than our signatures at the bottom of a certificate.

Hardings don’t do marriage and commitment.

A wire snaps in my chest, and I inhale a shaky breath. Laurel has completely fucked me up in the best possible way. It’s as if I’m forcing myself to live the life I did when my father was alive before I proposed to her.

“Married life is fine.” I shove the feelings aside temporarily, treading as carefully as I can with my brother. Transparent lies are better than bold faced ones. At least that’s what I tell myself. “What were you saying about Archer?”

“Oh, right.” He scratches at the stubble lining his chin. “Archer is my best friend from high school. I don’t know if you remember him, but he lived next door to me when my mom had that house out in Cambridge.”

“I remember him.” I nod, recalling the night Micah had brought him along on one of our weekly family dinners at my father’s favorite restaurant, Eclipse. One of the only nights we would see him when he was still living with his mother. And I remember the night I bailed Archer and Micah out of jail after they got arrested.

“Well,” Micah starts, pulling me from the memory. “Archer runs a giant tech firm out along the West Coast after moving out there last year. But he wants to start expanding his way to the east, so I thought maybe we could set up a meeting with him.”

“Sure.” I don’t hesitate. Helping Micah’s best friend isn’t a problem. My little brother has dedicated enough of his time to our family business and fought tooth and nail to be a voice in this company. “See when Archer can schedule a meeting to present his business plan. Preferably next week sometime, but double check with Olivia because at this point, I have no fucking clue what I’m doing. I’m running on fumes, and we haven’t even made it halfway through the week.”

“Perfect.” Micah beams, screeching to a halt in the hallway. “I’ll see you back in the conference room in an hour.”

“Great,” I mutter. I don’t know why, but a prickling sensation plays at the back of my neck with Laurel’s silence. Like a knife, an ache twists in my chest.

Once Micah turns his back to me, I’m hot on my heels to my office. Olivia is sitting at her desk, the sound of her long nails meeting her keyboard echoing down the hallway.

“Hello, Mr. Harding.” She stands, grabbing a stack of papers from her desk. The usual list of notes and messages she took in my absence.

I hold my hand up. “Unless any of those are from my wife, I don’t want them.”

“Oh.” She blinks. “Um.” Her body twists as she holds the papers, unsure whether she should still hand them to me or place them back on her desk.

---