Page 46 of Tender Offer
Her armor is tested under the weight of her father’s shadow. It’s something we have in common, but for different reasons. People who’ve attempted to diminish my work ethic because of the melanin in my skin have found themselves on the receiving end of my ire. KD has fought for visibility and acceptance within a male-dominated industry. She’s hardened over the years, keeping mostly to Paris and only using her nickname, which has become a permanent moniker. She has a beautiful mind for mathematics and a scorned heart from the people who should love her the most. It’s why I’m protective of her…not that she can’t hold her own.
“This calls for a celebration.” William rubs his hands together, catching the light of the chandelier in his gold cuff links. “Destin in an hour?”
“I’m down,” I say, packing up the paper version of our presentation.
“I’m open,” KD says. Heels clack across aged wood on her way to turn off the flatscreen hanging between two vintage mirrors.
I gave her full range to decorate the Paris office. The once-stuffy replica of the CEO suite in Eldridge Court now has life via weathered gold molding and French baroque ceilings. There are enough crystal chandeliers around the office for a fashion event, one KD and her team could host with their wardrobe alone.
Except for Madison, I’ve never seen anyone so runway ready. The slit in the middle of KD’s thigh stretches up her form-fitting dress when she reaches down to grab her oversized handbag that doubles as a briefcase. She’s a beautiful woman with a toned figure that’s six feet without heels.
Her eyes lift to mine, brighter now that the workday is finally over. “Ready?”
“Would you like to order, or wait for your party to arrive?” the waiter asks in French.
“No need,” KD says. She rattles off her dinner order and mine. “William off chasing tourists again?” She straightens the white napkin in her lap.
“Maybe an ambulance. He has a thing for paramedics.” I return her smirk and settle into the booth’s unforgiving leather.
My brother and I fly out to Paris monthly to review financials with KD. Like clockwork, he suggests a dinner he never attends. I thought he was trying to push me and KD together at first, but he runs after the first woman he sees the minute he leaves the office.
“You look good, Preston.” Her eyes linger on my navy and orange plaid single-breast waistcoat over a white shirt. “Is this new?”
“Trying something different.” I widen my legs to adjust myself under the table. The fit of these trousers is a vise on my nuts.
She sips her water. “Color looks good on you. What sparked the change from a wardrobe full of gray?”
It takes the strength of my grandmother not to scowl at the plate set in front of me. My brother is truly an ass for choosing a restaurant that serves bubbles.
“Tofu and oyster foam,” the waiter says with a proud nod.
At least one of us is safe from eating this infant-size science experiment. Whatever’s on this plate can stay there.
“Try it. You’ll like it.” KD points her knife at the foam sliding off what looks like a glob of mozzarella cheese. She cuts a delicate bite and savors it like it’s the best thing she ate today.
No wonder Ralph Fiennes killed everybody inThe Menu. I’ve contemplated murder myself at business lunches and dinners that ran too long with crumbs for fine dining. I enjoy a well-prepared meal, but I draw the line at unseasoned samples that barely fill my thoughts, let alone my stomach.
“Preston.” KD all but laughs in my face. Her eyes crinkle at the giggle she’s holding in.
“Sod off,” I huff, taking a bite that will seal my fate with a toilet.
She rolls her eyes. “This is a five-star restaurant.”
“That’s one star for each sprout on this fucking plate.” I lift the tofu. “Apologies, four.”
I startle at the bark of KD’s laughter. Her head tips back, angling her forehead to the ceiling. The snort that escapes her tempts me to check her temperature for a fever.
“Preston, you are something else.” She dabs at her eyes with a content sigh. “I missed you last month.”
All playfulness leaves the table. The air thickens, smothering what was once a lighthearted exchange between close friends.
I crossed the line with KD, breaching a boundary we have yet to reestablish. Our sex is casual, without expectations. William put two and two together when I stopped in Paris afterChristmas. I never travel alone to meet KD—I’ve had no reason to, outside of our monthly meetings. He never picked up on the fact we’ve been fucking on and off for over two decades. We only have sex when the mood strikes, and we never let it cloud our work.
KD checks all the boxes. She’s a knockout, a tenacious businesswoman, and she has a drive that exceeds mine. Our fathers pushed for everything but an arranged marriage. They wanted to unite London’s most prominent families. I have love for KD, but I am notinlove with her. My affection never grew to anything deeper, not that I tried. The spark just isn’t there.
Only one woman claimed my heart and kept it with her.
My phone chimes with the melody I saved for Madison. I’m six hours ahead since she went back to New York, and I find myself smiling the same way I did when I read her emails fifteen years ago.
