CRUEL (The Buck Boys Heroes Book 2), page 12
Nigel pulls himself out of his sandwich fog to glance at his boss. “Try it, sir.”
Kavan shakes his head. “This is ridiculous. I have a kitchen filled with the freshest ingredients money can buy and an award winning chef to prepare them, and you pick this?”
“It reminds me of my childhood,” I confess.
Both men turn to look at me.
“My mom used to make these for my sister and I every Saturday.” I run my fingertip over the crust of the bread. “On special occasions she’d cut out shapes in the bread.”
“Like Christmas trees?” Nigel asks with gleaming eyes.
“Yes,” I nod. “Hearts for Valentine’s Day and turkeys right around Thanksgiving.”
“That’s endearing.” Nigel glances at his half-eaten sandwich. “Do your parents live in New York, Juliet?”
“They’re in London at the moment.” I trail my gaze over the linen tablecloth. “Next month they’ll move to Paris for a few months, then Rome.”
“I see,” he says while Kavan sits quietly.
“They’re retired,” I offer as an explanation although one isn’t needed.
My parents raised my sister and I with love and grace. They didn’t spoil us but made sure we had everything we needed. My mom taught us the basics of cooking. My father explained budgeting to us and, of course, he showed us how to defend ourselves.
That was important to him. Very important.
I take a bite of my sandwich.
“I would venture a guess that this is Nara’s homemade strawberry jelly.” Nigel runs a finger over his bottom lip. “It’s running a close second to her lemon preserves.”
“You should tell her,” I encourage him. “Tell her how delicious this is.”
Smiling, he pushes himself to his feet. “I’ll do that right now. I’ll be back in a moment.”
I glance over to where Kavan is still seated with his hands resting on top of the table.
“You miss your parents, don’t you, Juliet?” he asks.
“Very much,” I admit.
I want to ask him if he misses his dad too, but I see it. I’ve seen it in his eyes since the moment we met.
Whatever happened in that hotel room in Miami shredded Kavan Bane’s heart. I wish he’d let me help him put it back together again.
He drops his gaze to the plate in front of him. “I’ve never had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
I perk a brow. “Cookie-cutter billionaire.”
Tilting his chin, he scoops up half of the sandwich in his hand before taking a huge bite. He chews, swallows, and then chases it with a sip from his water glass.
“What do you think?” I lean my elbows on the table. “It’s good, right?”
His answer is a second bite and the hint of a smile.
Chapter Thirty-One
Kavan
Juliet wanted that kiss as much as I did.
She told me that when she stepped closer, when her hands gripped the lapels of my jacket. It felt like a plea.
I thought about taking her to bed and fucking her mid-day with the sun streaming through my bedroom windows and onto her skin.
I stopped myself because I was falling.
Falling into something I hadn’t planned. Falling into a desire so overwhelming that I was ready to speak my truth to a woman I barely know.
Yet, at the same time I feel as though I’ve known her forever.
I’ve never met anyone like her.
“Kavan.” Her voice cuts through my thoughts. “Do you have a minute for me?”
I glance up to find her standing in the open doorway of my office.
It’s late afternoon now.
I instructed Nigel to give her a copy of the latest board meeting with anything sensitive redacted.
If she’s going to write an article about Bane Enterprises she needs, at the very least, minimal insight into the inner workings of the company.
“Of course, Juliet.” I push to stand. “Come in.”
She does just that, closing the door behind her.
That’s a dangerous move considering I want nothing more than to kiss her again.
Hell, I do want more.
I want to strip her, bend her over my desk and slide my cock inside what I can only imagine is her very sweet, tight pussy.
“It’s about this.” She waves a piece of paper in her hand. “Not to be rude, but some of the board members are assholes.”
I don’t need proof of that on a piece of paper. I live it.
“I won’t argue that point, but keep it out of the article.”
She plops her round ass in one of the chairs that face my desk. “I’ve researched the holdings of Bane Enterprises for the past three years. I can see where there might be some concern, but you have acquired several businesses that are showing steady growth.”
I sit back down in my chair. “I’m aware.”
“Why aren’t any of the financial magazines reporting on that?” She sets the paper on my desk. “You bought that video game company and now it’s making serious bank.”
“Serious bank?” I ask, suppressing the amusement I feel.
“Loads of cash,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “There’s also that print-on-demand greeting card company.”
“It’s making serious bank too,” I say with a straight face.
She nods. “Those are incredible success stories. You took those businesses and brought them back from the brink. Both of them are now multi-million dollar profit machines for Bane.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“You kept the owners on board,” she points out. “Why has no one interviewed them about how you’ve changed their lives?”
I fold my hands together on top of my desk. “Because both of the former owners are your age, Juliet. They don’t give a shit about anything but their bottom line. They’re immune to everything else. No reporter wants that as a headline.”
Her brow furrows. “What do you mean? Everyone wants to hear about success at that level.”
I shake my head. “I assure they don’t when the alternative is…”
Her gaze lands on my face as my voice trails.
She takes a deep breath. “When the alternative is all the failures related to what happened in the past.”
“Exactly.” I glance toward a window.
“This office is nothing like your real office.”
I turn back to face her. “What?”
“This office is so much nicer than your office in the Bane Enterprises building.” Her fingers run a path over the edge of my glass desk. “This is modern, and warm. You even have a picture of you and three men in here.”
I don’t need to ask what picture she’s talking about.
“Is Harry there?” Her finger wags in the air toward a framed photograph of Sean, Graham, Harrison and I on a shelf behind my desk.
“Second from the left.”
She squints. “Is he a cookie-cutter billionaire too?”
“He does all right. Why?”
“You can tell a lot about an interview subject by the company they keep.” She glances at the picture again. “Are they your friends, Kavan?”
“Yes.”
A smile greets me when she finally looks into my eyes again. “Good. Everyone needs friends they can count on.”
My desk phone rings breaking the moment.
She glances at it. “I suppose I have to leave to preserve that Bane mystique thing you have going on?”
I ignore the call. “That Bane mystique thing? Is that tied to my status as a cookie-cutter billionaire?”
“Might be.” She bounces to her feet. “I’ll go see Nara and check what’s on the dinner menu.”
“Let her make the suggestions, Juliet.”
“Or I might request chicken nuggets and curly fries, Bane.”
I watch her leave my office, transfixed not only by the gentle sway of her ass as she walks but by her determination to never back down.
She’s a force to be reckoned with and she’s heaven to kiss.
That’s a combination that could take the strongest of men to their knees.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kavan
I exit my office near six expecting to see Juliet in the main living area with Nigel, but that’s not what I find.
Nigel is alone looking through what looks like pictures of birds on his phone.
I suppose there’s some truth to the fact that there are clues everywhere about the people in our lives.
“Sir!” He bounces to his feet as soon as he spots me. “How did your final call of the day go?”
“Fine,” I lie.
I spoke to the owner of a global sporting gear company that I’ve been trying to acquire for the past few months. He was adamant that he couldn’t sell to Bane Enterprises after reading that fucking The Bad Bane book. He had the audacity to quote passages from it that he thinks are relevant to how I run the business.
I assured him the book was laced with lies and bullshit.
He told me to go to hell and hung up on me.
It’s just another random afternoon in my world.
“Where’s Juliet?” I start toward her office. “Is she still working?”
“She left an hour ago, Mr. Bane.”
I turn to look at Nigel. “What?”
“She got a call and explained that she had to meet someone for dinner.” He sighs. “I don’t know the details, sir. She did say that she chose our dinner from Nara’s suggested menus.”
“All right,” I say as disappointment tears through me.
I thought Slate was a no-go, but maybe a quick peck on the cheek is akin to first base for Juliet.
If it is, we rounded third based on the kiss we shared this morning in her office.
“She did want me to tell you that she won’t be by tomorrow.”
More fucking bad news.
“Why?”
“She has an appointment to tend to.” He glances back at the screen of his phone. “She wasn’t forthcoming with details. I didn’t push.”
He should have pushed.
Having her here, inside these four walls, has been welcome. It didn’t begin that way, but I enjoy having her in my home.
“It works out well, though.” Nigel says with a cheery note in his tone.
I snap my head to look in his direction. “How so?”
“The board called an emergency meeting for tomorrow afternoon I just received a secret memo about it.”
As if on cue, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I yank it out to see the notification of the meeting.
For fuck’s sake.
“Fine,” I growl the word out. “Tell Nara I want dinner in my office. You’re free to go home, Nigel.”
“I’m going to do just that.” He turns toward the foyer. “I’ll miss her too, sir.”
I face him again. “Who?”
“Juliet,” he says with a grin. “She’s brought something to this place that has been sorely missing.”
I ignore that because I can’t acknowledge it out loud.
“Once her article is complete, we may never see her again.”
“She’s not moving across the globe, Nigel,” I point out, frustrated with this conversation. “She works a block from here.”
“That’s close for me,” he agrees with a nod of his head. “It’s a world away for you though, isn’t it?”
Without a word to him, I head down the corridor before I slam my office door behind me.
Five fucking hours.
I spent five fucking hours listening to the board drone on about everything that isn’t going right.
Nigel took it upon himself to point out where the company is making profits, but the goddamn board was stuck on the deal with the sporting goods company that collapsed yesterday.
It’s yet another mark against me.
I sat through that hell until I called it adjourned.
The chairman of the board attempted to pull rank to keep me in my seat, but fortunately, the other board members were in a rush to head home to home-cooked meals and I suspect rendezvous with mistresses, so we called it a day.
Now, I’m on the sidewalk in front of the Bane tower about to head home through the alley that has become a shortcut of sorts for me.
I turn up the collar on suit jacket to help with the biting wind that has swept over the city since this afternoon.
A couple strolling by do a double take when they see my face, but they move on whispering something to each other.
I glance to my left to a line of people waiting to gain access to a restaurant.
At one time in my life, I would have leapfrogged that line while holding tightly to my mother’s hand.
It’s her favorite in the city, and that’s not because they serve a steak that melts in your mouth like butter.
It’s one of those places that paparazzi used to converge on to snap pictures of New York’s wealthiest as they were on their way to eat an overpriced meal and consume a bottle of wine that costs most than most people in this city pay in rent for a month.
I step closer to the curb to get a better look at those in line because I recognize someone.
Her hair is as red as I remember. Her profile showcases the same small bump on her nose that she’s always hated, yet never took that extra step to fix.
I turn away briefly because it’s been years since my mother has spoken to me, but something draws my gaze back to her.
That’s when I see the woman she’s with.
She’s wearing a black lace dress that accentuates every curve of her frame. On her feet are nude heels. She turns slightly, sending her brown hair whipping against the side of her beautiful face.
It’s Juliet.
“Fuck,” I mutter as two women walk past me.
“I’m game,” one calls out to me. “You did say you want to fuck, right?”
Her blonde-haired friend giggles. “I’m in. He looks like he can handle both of us.”
I can, and I have taken two women to bed at once.
I wave them away as I head down the sidewalk, my blood boiling, my heart thumping against my ribcage.
“Juliet!” My name snaps off her tongue laced in anger, confusion, and an ounce of disbelief.
Her head turns slowly. “Kavan?”
“Kavan,” my mother repeats my name but the warmth that was once there is long gone. “What are you doing here?”
I don’t acknowledge her. I head straight for Juliet.
“Kavan,” she says my name again, but nothing follows that.
I reach for her. Grabbing hold of her hand I tug her toward me. “You’re coming with me.”
She doesn’t fight me. Not a word leaves her pink hued lips.
She looks up at my with those hazel eyes that are rimmed in dark shadow, liner, and a thick coat of mascara.
“Where?” she whispers.
I don’t answer. I can’t. I tug on her hand and lead her into the alley, not once looking back.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Kavan
“Leave!” My voice booms through the penthouse. “Everyone out.”
Nara hurries out of the kitchen and rushes toward the elevator without a glance in our direction.
Alcott rounds a corner and does the same.
I stand in place, watching them board the elevator until the doors slide shut.
That’s when I finally release Juliet’s hand.
I can’t look at her.
She was standing on the sidewalk, wide-eyed and broad-smiled while talking to my mother.
I stalk across the room to the bar cart. With steady hands I pour myself two fingers of Macallan 15. I down it in one gulp. Then I pour another splash of it into the tumbler and take that in a single swallow.
“Kavan,” Juliet whispers.
“Quiet,” I growl.
“It’s not what you think,” she says, her voice louder.
That can only mean one thing. She’s on the approach from behind me.
I stare out at the lights of the city through one of the windows. “Not now, Juliet.”
“Now,” she insists. “I reached out to her because…”
I turn on my heel. “Because you wanted her to fill your head with her version of events?”
She sets her purse on the couch. “No. I’m writing an article on Bane Enterprises. She’s a major stockholder. I was simply gaining her perspective on where the business stands today.”
“You reached out to her,” I point an accusatory finger at her, willing her to stay in place.
She stops mid-step. “I had to.”
A bitter laugh laced with the pain of the past five years escapes me. “Bullshit.”
Her gaze travels over my face. “It’s my job, Kavan.”
“Your job?” I repeat. “Your job is to go behind my back to speak to someone who has done nothing but drag me through the press for something…”
I stop myself, because goddammit, some people will swear that the truth will set you free, but it won’t do that for me.
It will release me from one type of prison straight into another.
Shame is something a man can learn to live with.
Guilt is far worse a sentence in my opinion.
“Something…” Naturally she pushes for more.
“You should have run it by me first, Juliet.”
“I was doing my job,” she insists with a stamp of her heel on the floor.
I turn back to the bar cart and pour another finger of whiskey. I swallow it, letting it burn a slow path down my throat.
“Look at me, Kavan.”
I look up at the window to find her there. It’s her reflection, but in this moment, with my sins so close to the surface, it’s all I can handle.
“Do you want to know what I think?”
“No,” I answer curtly. “I want to know what you were thinking when you called her and asked her to meet you.”
“I think you’re in a pain so debilitating that you can’t find a path out of it.”
“You’re not a shrink, Juliet.”
“I’m a journalist,” she says with pride lacing the words. “My job is to get to the heart of the story and report it. I was doing that tonight.”
