ROOK (Billionaire Buck Boys Book 6), page 3
“Do you know why he wants to see us?” Telford pipes up. “My palms are sweating up a storm here.”
I can attest to that since I see two hand-shaped stain marks on the thighs of his light blue pants.
“I do.” Eda’s smile beams. “Let’s just say you’ll be two happy chemists when the meeting ends.”
I lock eyes with Telford as a grin creeps over his lips. “Seriously?”
Before Eda can say another word, the door to Mr. Black’s office swings open, and his wife, Ellie, walks out with her blouse slightly crooked and not completely tucked into her black pants.
Mr. Black appears behind her, his hand raking through his brown hair. “Sorry for the delay. How are you, Carrie? Telford?”
His gaze volleys back and forth between us.
“You’ve got a little lipstick there, boss.” Eda drags a finger over the corner of her lip. “Left side.”
Ellie turns around and wipes it away with the pad of her thumb before her husband can react. “I need to get back to work. I’ll leave you to spread the good news.”
“I’ll see you at home later.” My boss’s gaze never leaves his wife’s face. “I’m counting the hours.”
I can’t help but stare because the definition of relationship goals is playing out in front of me.
“Congratulations, Carrie!” Ellie says as she turns to face me before she glances at Telford. “You too, Tel.”
As she walks away with her husband’s gaze pinned to her ass, Telford jumps up from his chair. “It’s good news. I knew it.”
“It’s great news,” Mr. Black assures us both as he straightens the lapels of his suit jacket. “I could use a coffee. Why don’t we take this to the café on the corner? Are you two on board for that?”
I’ll follow him anywhere if it means I get to hear good news about my career. “I’m in.”
Telford echoes my sentiments as he starts toward the exit. “I’m in, too.”
“Less than three days from now, I’ll be a married woman,” my sister says while cuddling Cindy, her kitten. “And six months from now, holy moly, Carrie, I’ll be living the dream.”
“You’re living it now,” I point out, circling my hand in the air above my head. “Your apartment is all that.”
Abby spins around. “It is beautiful. Declan has excellent taste in real estate.”
I’ll say. My sister and her almost-husband live in a doorman building on Central Park West. It’s filled with all kinds of charm and design details that were crafted over a century ago.
“We’re supposed to be celebrating you tonight,” she reminds herself as she sets Cindy down on the couch next to me. “You created the new signature scent for Matiz Cosmetics. That’s a huge deal.”
She’s right. It is, and when Mr. Black told Telford and me the good news this morning, we contained our excitement until we strolled out of the café.
That’s when we clung to each other and jumped up and down on the busy Manhattan sidewalk.
The people rushing past us didn’t say a word. They didn’t need to. The moment belonged to Telford and me. Our names won’t be on any of the packaging or marketing materials for the new offering that will be part of the women’s fragrance collection, but we know what we accomplished. It’s a career milestone.
Matiz has a team of fragrance chemists, and although it’s never talked about, we’re all striving for the ultimate prize of developing a new women’s fragrance. Matiz only unveils a new one every two to three years, so it’s a huge deal.
“Wait until you tell my dad and your mom,” Abby says. “They’ll be so proud of you.”
I skip past that and land on the question I’ve been dying to ask all night. “What did they say when you told them about the baby?”
Her eyelids flutter shut as she works on a hard swallow.
I know my stepsister. She’s trying to keep her emotions at bay.
“They were over-the-moon happy,” I whisper while petting the kitten’s head. “Weren’t they?”
She nods. “So happy, Carrie.”
I’ve watched a true-life love story play out in front of my eyes these past few months. Since Abby met Declan, she’s fallen head over heels and is now on the brink of having the family she’s always wanted. She’s never admitted it to me, but I suspect it was a goal of hers for years.
Since I reached a career goal today, I’m going to set time aside to focus on one of my personal goals. That’s why I downloaded a new hookup app earlier.
I’ll set up a profile on it after my sister’s wedding. I may not find love on it, but I’m hoping some no-strings-attached fun will find me so I can celebrate my next birthday with a literal bang.
A sound at the apartment door lures her gaze over her shoulder. “That’s Declan and Rook.”
Um, what?
Just what?
I look down at my ripped, faded jeans and my oversized green sweatshirt. I put on this unfashionable ensemble after I got home from work. Adding to the look, my face is bare of makeup since I had a little happy cry as I stood in the shower washing the day away.
It’s not every day you get the best career news ever.
“Rook is here?” I try to level my tone.
“In the flesh,” Abby says as if that doesn’t conjure up an image in my mind of her boss stark naked.
It’s not the first time I’ve imagined that or the hundredth time for that matter.
Rook Thorsen is always front and center in my fantasies.
I run a hand through my hair just as the apartment door swings open, and Declan appears with the man who stars in my dirty dreams on his heel.
Wowza. Rook in a suit in real life is almost as hot as naked Rook in my mind’s eye. The three-piece gray suit he’s wearing is doing him all kinds of favors.
“We haven’t told him about the baby yet,” Abby whispers. “Don’t let the cat out of the bag.”
I briefly glance in her direction. “I won’t.”
Rook’s pace slows as soon as he spots me, and a grin overtakes his gorgeous lips.
His gorgeous, very kissable lips.
“Abby,” he greets my sister first. “It’s good to see you.”
“I saw you two hours ago before I left the office.” She giggles. “And we had dinner together last night.”
He ignores all of that and hones in on me. “Carrie, this is a treat.”
He has no idea what a treat it is for me.
“I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” he says. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” I keep my tone even because I’m an adult, and he’s just a man. A really good-looking man who looks spectacular naked in my imagination.
He’s also in a relationship with his daughter’s mom, so I need to keep my libido in check.
“Carrie and I were just about to run through the list of things that have to be done before Saturday,” Abby announces. “There is still so much to do.”
I offer my sister my hand to reassure her. “We’ve got this, Abs.”
She squeezes my hand as she takes it. “You’ll hang around and help?”
“All night if you need me to,” I offer.
“We should pop open a bottle of sparkling water first and toast to your success, Carrie.” Declan claps his hands together. “Abby told me about your new signature scent being the star of the show in Matiz’s spring line-up.”
“Really?” Rook takes a step closer to me. “That sounds like a milestone worthy of a celebration.”
“I’m going to treat myself to a spa day to celebrate,” I blurt out.
“Good for you.” Abby pats my shoulder. “I’ll grab the sparkling water and some glasses for our toast.”
Before I can say anything, she’s headed to the kitchen with Declan trailing behind her.
“You’re very talented.” Rook’s deep voice catches me off guard.
I turn to see him staring at me. “I love what I do. It’s more passion than talent.”
He steps even closer, his gaze trailing over my face. “Passion is important.”
I stare at his lips, nodding like a fool in agreement.
“In every way,” he says, his voice dropping to a lower tone.
My lips part while I search for a flirty retort that doesn’t cross any lines because Chesca is waiting for him at home.
He may be mine in my mind when I’m in bed late at night, but he’s not mine in any way that matters.
“We have the water,” Abby announces as she reenters the room.
“And the glasses,” Declan says from behind her. “Who’s ready to toast?”
Rook keeps his gaze trained on my face when his phone starts ringing. It doesn’t make it past the third ring before he’s got it in his hand.
“I have to take this,” he says. “I apologize.”
He takes two steps away before the phone is next to his ear. “Chesca?”
Reality slaps me across the face as I turn and approach where my sister and Declan are filling champagne glasses with sparkling water.
“I have to run,” Rook says from behind me. “I’m sorry, everyone.”
Abby waves her hand in the air with a smile. “Not a problem, boss. We all understand.”
We do.
There are a lot of single men in Manhattan and it stands to reason that some of them are on that hookup app. I’ll find one of them to fantasize about, so there’s at least a chance those fantasies become reality.
CHAPTER SIX
Rook
“Dammit,” I whisper as I step off the elevator and into the lobby of the building that Abby and Declan live in.
I was just about to toast Carrie’s success when Chesca interrupted.
I never ignore a call from my ex. I can’t. That’s especially true when Kirby is with her.
I ring her back because the call cut off when I boarded the elevator to make my way down. When Declan asked my opinion on his plan to purchase an apartment in this building, I told him I viewed it as a sound investment.
That still holds true.
You can’t go wrong if your address borders Central Park, but the cell service in the elevator is shit. That’s par for the course in a building built over a century ago.
“Rook,” Chesca answers in a breathy tone on the third ring.
It’s her commercial voice, as I’ve always called it. Since hitting it big as a supermodel, she’s landed a few commercials that have aired all over this continent and Europe, too. She’s become one of the most recognizable models for Liore Lingerie, and since they launched video ads on social media, Chesca’s notoriety has hit new heights.
“Is she all right?” I don’t mince words because there’s no need for that.
Chesca called me a few minutes ago because our daughter is in distress. All she said before the call cut out is that Kirby is upset and needs me. I didn’t need to hear more than that in order to cut my evening short.
Kirby comes first in my life.
“No,” Chesca answers succinctly. “Her little heart is broken.”
It’s not the first time my ex has said those words to me. Kirby is a sensitive child. Her heart breaks if she spots a dead butterfly on the sidewalk or misplaces a sock.
I happen to adore the fact that her heart is as open as it is. She cares deeply for everyone and everything around her. Apparently, tonight, something struck a chord inside her and sent her into her bedroom at Chesca’s with tears running down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” I ask the obvious question.
“Maura is under the weather,” she says with an exasperated sigh. “She’s not up to taking the Boston trip with us.”
Maura is Kirby’s nanny. She’s been with us from day one. Kirby loves her endlessly, and I’m fond of her, too. In many ways, she reminds me of my mom.
“Under the weather?” I repeat back the generic phrase that can mean anything from a mild head cold to a full-on bacterial infection that requires hospitalization.
Unfortunately, Maura has succumbed to both during her time with us.
“It’s the flu,” Chesca fills me in. “I told her to go see her doctor tomorrow. Maybe they can give her a shot of something to perk her up. I need her to be on that plane to Boston with us.”
I shake my head even though Chesca can’t see me. “She needs rest. Take the Boston trip without her. Your folks will help with Kirby.”
“Sure, but…” Her voice trails.
“But what?”
“But Kirby wants you tonight,” Chesca admits in barely more than a whisper. “Can you swing by and pick her up? You know how much she loves her dad hugs.”
I love them more.
“I’ll be there in twenty,” I predict, knowing I’ll likely be at the door to her apartment less than fifteen minutes from now.
“Thanks, Rook.”
I end the call without an acknowledgment just as I punch a finger into my phone’s screen to order a rideshare. I’d hop on the subway and head over there, but I don’t have the time. I want my daughter to get a dad hug as soon as possible.
As I step out of the building, I send a quick text message to my assistant, Svea, telling her to send Maura flowers and a care package in the morning.
A happy and healthy nanny makes for a content five-year-old. Maura only has six months left on her current contract, and I’ve had a sinking feeling for weeks that she has no interest in extending it.
Finding someone to replace her is an impossible task.
A chorus of giggles behind me sends my gaze over my shoulder.
I spot Abby and Carrie on the approach. Abby’s hand is wrapped around Carrie’s forearm as they talk.
Abby is the first to notice me, and when she does, she grins. “Hey! You’re still here?”
My gaze leaves her face immediately to focus on her sister.
Carrie smiles, and it chases away the cloud of gloom that settled over me ten minutes ago when my phone rang. “Hi, Rook.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard her say my name, and I fucking love it.
It’s a simple name, a gift from a relative born more than a century before I was. My dad saw the value in giving both his sons names that held meaning to him.
“Carrie.” I add a smile to her name. “I’m sorry again for rushing out.”
“It’s never a problem,” Abby takes the lead and accepts my apology with grace. “We have a lot of last minute wedding planning to take care of tonight.”
“Right,” I acknowledge her response with that one word and a glance in her direction.
Carrie’s face is like a magnet, though. I can’t keep my eyes off of it.
With her slightly upturned nose, her full lips, and her green eyes, she’s stunning.
“We’re getting dessert before we dive into wedding planning,” Carrie says. “There’s a cupcake shop on Amsterdam Avenue. It’s a quick walk.”
“Do you want to come with us?” Abby asks the question I sensed was coming. “If you can’t, we completely understand.”
A skilled attorney knows exactly how to read between the lines. Abby wants me to sit this one out. Since I can’t hang around, she’ll get her wish.
I glance at the screen of my phone as I see a black SUV on a slow approach in our direction. “I’m needed somewhere, so I have to pass.”
Abby’s smile widens. “Not a problem.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Abby,” I address her first before I shoot my gaze back to Carrie. “And I’ll see you at the wedding.”
“I’ll be there.” She nods once. “It was nice seeing you again, Rook.”
“You, too,” I say, even though it’s a fucking understatement.
I’m not a man who looks to the future for satisfaction, but I’m counting the hours until I see her again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Rook
There’s a saying about never scoring if you don’t take a shot.
Truer words have never been spoken.
I’m staring at my missed shot and some guy in a brown suit down on one knee in front of her.
I should have asked Abby if her stepsister was involved with anyone. I’ve been thinking about Carrie non-stop since I saw her the other night, weighing the pros and cons of pursuing the relative of one of my employees.
Hell, Abby is more than an employee. She’s practically my sister-in-law, so there’s a hell of a good chance that if I had gotten involved with Carrie that when it ended, I’d have a pissed off friend in Declan and an even angrier friend and employee in Abby.
“Telford’s at it again, I see.” Declan pats my shoulder as he appears next to where I’m standing.
I’ve been on the terrace of Howerton House since the ceremony ended twenty minutes ago. This wedding venue in New York City comes with all the bells and whistles to guarantee a memorable start to any happy ever after. The bonus is the stellar views of Manhattan.
After Declan and Abby exchanged vows, I needed to decompress. I did that by sipping on a glass of good scotch and listening to the sounds of the city.
It was all an effort to keep my gaze off Carrie Gilbert in that fucking green dress she’s wearing.
The shade is a touch darker than her eyes.
She’s a beauty in every possible way, and now, apparently, she’s about to be engaged to a guy named Telford.
“That’s Telford?” I jerk my hand, which is holding the glass in the air, toward where the proposal is taking place.
No one else at this wedding seems to notice the guy on his knee pledging his undying love to the most stunning woman on this terrace.
I have no idea how they all are keeping their eyes off of Carrie. Abby was a vision, but I can’t recall any details about her wedding gown. I do know that Carrie’s tits are what this man’s dreams are made of.
“Telford Harpin,” Declan fills in the blank for me.
“Her boyfriend?” I question, trying to keep an even tone to my voice.
Just as Declan glances at me and opens his mouth, Carrie shakes her head from side to side and laughs, sending Telford Harpin up to both feet. He scrubs a hand over his smooth jaw.
