Page 18 of The Innovator

“You insinuated.”

“You seemed like you don’t want to be part of Three Point Park.” My voice grew hoarse as I held her wrist, letting the warmth of her skin seep into mine.

“I never said that.” She threw my words back at me.

“You insinuated.” I smirked.

The volley of words between us aroused me more than I expected.

She tried to retract her hand from my grip, but I held it in place, loving the smoothness of her skin.

“Remember this,” I said, rubbing my thumb against the pulse on her wrist. “I’m a man who loves a challenge.” Her pulse quickened, and it fascinated me that I was aware of her body to this degree. “The more daring, the better. Sometimes, I have the enemy in my grip without them knowing. I enjoy winning, and I’d do anything to ensure my victory, my beautiful buttercup.”

She blinked at the nickname.

“Is that what you call the women around you?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are they ‘flowers’ in your massive garden where you get to pick one for the day and toss it aside when you’re done?”

I loved women. There was a time in my life when I had viewed them as nothing more than flowers. They were pretty and fun to look at, but nothing more. I didn’t want to get close to anyone because that meant I had to reveal parts of myself to them too.

When she summarized my past, I appeared tainted and shallow. Was that how she saw me? I didn’t like this image she had of me.

“A buttercup is a stunning flower with over three hundred species. It symbolizes enchantment, positivity, and joy. It also has medicinal uses such as treating arthritis, nerve pain, and swelling . . .” The bulge in my pants grew on cue.

She arched an amused eyebrow as though she’d read my mind.

“Swelling of what?” she asked, waiting for my admission.

“Ofbronchitis. What were you thinking?” I smiled. “So when I address a woman as buttercup, I consider it the best form of endearment.”

She looked at me suspiciously, still not trusting me. “And how many women have been the recipient of such a ‘swelling’ endearment?”

I loved how she always used my words against me.

“Just you. The others had different nicknames . . . like dandelion, grass, and other weeds.”

She laughed, knowing I was lying. The dandelion, grass, and weed were a lie, but buttercup was hers—the truth. She brought a positive energy that cut through the grayness I’d been dealing with. Would she believe me if I told her that?

Maybe someday, but not right now.

Her facial expression showed she was trying to grasp my words, weighing the truth against the lie. But her struggle told me something important: she was attracted to me. If she hadn’t been, she would have ignored me and left the kitchenette. But she stayed and continued this tug of war between us.

She got under my skin, and maybe I got under hers too.

If life had taught me anything, it was that betrayal had destroyed my family. I’d been ignorant, putting trust where I shouldn’t have. Life was full of deception, and I had to play the game as though I were the most skillful deceiver.

That sounded awful, but life was full of awful things. I wasn’t a saint, and I was certainly no hero. I wasn’t out to save anyone but myself.

Egotistical. Her words boomed in my head. I had a sizeable ego, but every competitive person possessed one. According to Carl Jung, “The ego is the workshop where the self is made.” I was remaking myself in a workshop that was taking its damn time, but at least I acknowledged the need for reconstruction.

I watched as two men strode towards the kitchenette, one carrying a pile of yellow envelopes. “Oh, here you are. These are for you, Natalie.” He held out a stack of mail. “Two are for Robert.”

“Thanks, Neil.” She smiled warmly at him. The man had brown hair and a friendly face and wore one of those bright neon green jackets that city workers often wore.

“You got it.” Neil gave me a nod and turned to Paul Greene, the city inspector who would review my warehouse renovation soon. “You saved me a trip.” He gave Paul two yellow interoffice envelopes.

Paul stood a few inches shorter than me and wore a white shirt with an orange tie matching the color of his hair. “Leave them on my desk. I’m getting coffee, then heading to a meeting.”

Neil nodded and left.

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