Page 13 of Silent Cravings

“What? You think I sit around and do nothing but drink and order employees around all day? Of all people, you understand being able to pick up a phone and call in a favor when necessary. This will be a big one,” I admitted. “With it only being around seven weeks out. But I think it’s doable. If this was August and the leaf peepers were about to descend on us in weeks, it would be a different story.”

Her face maintained its flat, professional expression. “Sounds good. What’s the name of the managers there? Just so I know when I have to reach out to them.”

She was determined to make this impersonal. That was fine with me. I only wished I could keep myself from lapsing into personal talk with her. Trying to make jokes, trying to make her smile. That was my role in our group, one I fell into easily.

Only she knew about the anxiety it stemmed from. It hadn’t been easy trying to fit in with a bunch of trust fund babies back when I first started high school on an academicscholarship. I wore the uniform and attended classes, but I wasn’t like them. My family was well-off, but we were nowhere near the kind of wealth families like the Diamonds and the Blacks took for granted. If I could make people laugh, I had a place. I felt like I belonged. In the early days, weeks, months, that was what I’d needed most. Over time, it became a habit.

After giving her the details of my contacts, I stood. “Let me show you around. Our ballroom can fit five hundred, though we could hold the ceremony and reception on the back lawn overlooking the golf course and lake. Do we have an idea of a guest list? Approximate number, at least?”

She followed me from my office and down the hall leading to a wide, sweeping staircase that led down to our elegant lobby. “I asked, and Rose said at least three hundred. Which probably means closer to four,” she added with a wry grin. “There’s nothing like planning a wedding to make a person remember a bunch of people they haven’t spoken to in five years.”

“Knowing Lourde and Olivia, I’m sure they’ll come up with half of Manhattan and a third of East Hampton,” I predicted.

We crossed the lobby and then passed a wall of windows overlooking the man-made lake that sat between the country club and golf course. It was large enough for small boats to sail, and a pair of sailboats bobbed on the sparkling surface. “It’s gorgeous,” she murmured, staring out, taking it all in. “I can see something really beautiful happening here.”

I saw something beautiful in front of me, and I wasn’t looking out the window. It was all wrong. I should have left her Saturday night. If I had tucked her into bed and shown myself out, I wouldn’t now have to wrestle with the memoryof her throaty moans. She was wild, uninhibited. I had already developed a taste for it. More like a craving if I were honest—a fast-growing need.

She noticed me ogling her and arched an eyebrow. If there was one thing she couldn’t be bothered to do, it was pretending for the sake of politeness. “Is there a reason you keep staring at me like a deranged creeper on the subway? I’m waiting for you to flash me or something.”

There was no way to answer that question without coming off like an idiot, so I chose to scoff. Turning away, I led her down the wide hall and into the ballroom. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, lighting the room once I flipped the switches before crossing the polished parquet floor to open the drapes covering the French doors that overlooked the formal gardens, which would be in bloom by early June.

She whistled softly, admiring the room, tipping her head back to check out the high ceiling. “This is stunning. I mean it. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you. I’m pretty proud of it,” I admitted. “What do you think? Will this be enough for the wedding of the year?”

“You know it will,” she quipped, rolling her eyes at me from across the room. “I’m not trying to stroke your ego when you know damn well this would make the site of a gorgeous wedding. Do you think we could leave the doors open so guests could go in and out during the reception?” she asked, approaching me and bringing the scent of lilacs with her. Was it her hair or perfume? Regardless, it was intoxicating.

“I don’t see why not. We could have the grounds decorated. We could even have a second band outside, under a marquee. Lay down a dance floor, providing an alternative to whatever is being played inside.”

For the first time since she showed up, she wore agenuine smile. Her shoulders sank in time with a deep sigh. “This is going to be special,” she murmured, and I believed her. Not because Ari could afford it or because I could help provide it. I believed it because she did.

“I trust your judgment,” I told her, staring at the flutter on the side of her throat where her pulse throbbed. I had licked that patch of skin and remembered the taste clearly enough that a wave of hunger threatened to knock me on my ass or force me to reach for her, which I knew instinctively she would punish me for. This wasn’t the time to fuck around or lose sight of what we were here to do. It was too damn complicated. The past was bad enough without dredging it up all because she made my dick hard.

“You trust my judgment, but you couldn’t trust me enough to stick around on Sunday morning?” She leveled me with a hard, unblinking stare.

I should’ve fucking known she’d bring it up. It had all been too easy. “Why do I feel like this is a trap?” I asked. Any softness or warmth was history, and maybe that was a good thing. I needed to be reminded it was a mistake to sleep with her again. “I thought we were here to talk about business.”

“How convenient for you.” She sighed.

“You want to talk about it? Fine. Maybe I knew you would regret what happened as soon as you opened your eyes, and I didn’t want to be around when it happened. I didn’t want to make you feel awkward, and I sure as hell didn’t want you to feel like you had to apologize for making a move. I was trying to be decent.”

“Yeah, well, you missed the mark just a little.” Valentina held her thumb and forefinger roughly an inch apart, scowling. “It was kind of shitty. I’m not some skank you sneak away from the morning after.”

“I know you aren’t. That’s not how I see you.”

“The fact is, I needed a friend that night, and you were there, and I appreciate it.” Had she rehearsed this? It sure as hell poured out of her mouth like she had. “But I think it would be best if we go back to the way things were before.”

“Of course.” All that was left to do was hide a flash of bitter disappointment. It was ridiculous to feel that way. Treating Saturday like a one-off and moving on with our lives was the way to go. For one, there wouldn’t be this awkwardness where she couldn’t look me in the eye for long before needing to look away. It was better to move on.

I cleared my throat, nodding toward the lake. “We could set up sailing for the ladies the day before the wedding,” I suggested. “I don’t know if you’ve ever been to the spa at the Delamar, but it’s huge. The girls could have a spa day there. I’m spitballing,” I concluded with a shrug.

“I like the way your brain works.” She liked the way my dick worked too. Fuck, how was I supposed to think about headcounts and all that shit when I couldn’t look at her without remembering the way she tipped her head back in abandon when I thrust deep inside her?

“I can set up consultations with our food services manager and our pastry chef,” I suggested, pulling out my phone to check my calendar and rid myself of images of her. “I can juggle a few things in my schedule to make room since this is all rushed.”

“You?” Her forehead wrinkled when she frowned. “What about the girl upstairs? Serena? She said she was your event coordinator.”

“I’ve already told Serena I’m handling this one myself.”

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