Page 71 of Coldhearted King

I click away from the website. “What do you want, Tate?”

“I can’t shoot the shit with my big brother?”

Tate might be just the distraction I need right now. “I don’t know if we’ve ever shot the shit, but if you’re saying you’ve got something to discuss with me, then please, go right ahead.”

He smirks, leans forward in his chair, and rests his elbows on his knees. “The marketing department is reporting decreased engagement and more negative comments on social media. Dear old Dad’s indiscretions are circulating more widely and confidence in our brand appears to be declining. We need a quick win to improve public perception and keep everyone happy.”

“I’m assuming you have an idea.”

He nods. “The team has been brainstorming and they want to run some press campaigns on the hotel development. Early stages, preliminary concept plans, with a heavy focus on the sustainability aspects.”

“Okay, get what you need from the architects.” Which makes me think about Delilah. Once again, something tugs painfully in my chest.

“They’re also thinking about filming our contractors smiling and looking competent, that kind of thing. Maybe that sexy little architect of yours could be our star.”

“She’s not mine,” I snap.

His brows arch up again. “A little defensive, aren’t you? I just meant she’s part of your team.”

I force myself to relax, and he watches me with a twisted smile.

“Is she who had you all out of sorts when I came in? I don’t blame you. If she were working for me, I would have bent her over my desk in—”

“Don’t,” I growl, and he lets out a laugh.

“Oh, that got a reaction. So youaretapping that fine piece of ass?”

I don’t know why he’s being so chatty. Or why I haven’t kicked him out of my office yet. Maybe it’s because right now, with thoughts of Delilah trying to take over my mind, I don’t hate having him here.

I drum my fingers on the desk. “We may have had a...thing.”

“A thing? What type of thing are you talking about exactly?” His cunning eyes scrutinize me before they widen. “You weren’t dating her, were you?” The look of shock on his face would be funny if the subject of Delilah wasn’t such a sore spot right now.

“It was just casual,” I say. “Just a few weeks.”

He runs his pointer finger over his bottom lip as he watches me. “So you ended it, then? Did she get clingy? Or did you get bored?”

I pick up a pen and spin it between my fingers, debating whether to say anything. He’s just sitting there, looking relaxed, his golden-brown eyes bright with curiosity. It takes me back. To a time when the three of us were closer. When we’d been friends, instead of...whatever we are now.

So I tell him. “She ended it. Just before you came in.”

His brows shoot skyward. “She ended it?”

I clench my jaw and nod.

“I’d ask you when was the last time a woman ended a relationship with you, but since I can’t remember when you last had a relationship, it’s a moot point.”

When I don’t say anything, a slow smile spreads across his face.

“You like her.”

It’s a statement, not a question, but I answer him anyway. “I enjoyed spending time with her, that’s all.”

“What happened then?” he asks.

My gaze drops to my computer, and my chest tightens as I picture the photos that had been on the screen moments before. “I hurt her.”

“Was she in love with you?”

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