Hanging by a Thread (Riley O'Brien & Co. #3), page 30
She had only managed to squeeze in a couple of video chats and a handful of phone calls with Cal because she had been so busy. Even finding time to send a text had been difficult. All their communication had been brief and consisted primarily of “How are you?” and “I miss you.” Nonetheless, she thought about him constantly.
“What’s on our schedule for this afternoon?” Lars asked as they shrugged on their cold-weather gear.
“We have three more media interviews, and tomorrow morning we have a breakfast meeting with the guys from Yale.”
Prior to the attacks, several university endowment funds had been GGB investors. Yale was the only one that hadn’t dumped its GGB stock.
They headed back toward their hotel at a measured pace even though the wind was blustery. New Yorkers hurried by them, their faces ducked against their chests.
“I’m ready to go home,” Lars admitted as they turned onto the street where their hotel was located.
She nodded. “Me, too.”
“I miss my wife,” he confessed.
She smiled. “I’m sure she misses you, too, Lars.”
“I don’t think she misses me as much as Cal misses you.”
Her cheeks heated, and she laughed self-consciously. “I definitely miss him.”
It was a gross understatement to say Cal had been unhappy when she had flown to New York mere hours after the bombings. He hadn’t said anything, but it was obvious he hadn’t wanted to let her out of his sight. She hadn’t wanted to go, either, but she had a responsibility to GGB. He not only understood that fact, but respected it, too.
He had wanted to come with her, but the big television commercial for Riley O’Brien & Co.’s new ad campaign had been scheduled to shoot. She had appreciated the thought, but even if he had been able to make the trip, it wouldn’t have made any sense for him to come to New York.
If he had come along, she would only have seen him for a few waking minutes before she fell into bed. Even the weekends had been filled with investor meetings.
“We could go home tomorrow afternoon,” Bebe suggested.
“I think that’s a good idea. I don’t think there’s much else we can do.”
“Unfortunately, I agree.”
As she and Lars entered the lobby of their hotel, her gaze landed on a familiar handsome face. Akash sat on one of the gray damask sofas scattered near the entrance. The sight of him was such a surprise, she froze in the middle of the lobby. Lars turned to look at her, his eyebrows arched.
“Bebe?”
“I just saw someone I know,” she replied, catching Akash’s eyes across the lobby. “I’ll meet you back here at two o’clock.”
Nodding in agreement, Lars strode off to the elevators. She made her way toward Akash, and when she reached him, he rose to greet her. She hadn’t seen him in more than a year, not since their engagement ceremony last January, and they hadn’t video chatted since the day of the bombings.
Although most Indian men were small in stature, Akash easily topped six feet. Despite his height, he wasn’t a large man, especially compared to Cal. Her fiancé didn’t measure up to her boyfriend in any way, not just physically.
Akash was a dapper dresser, and today he wore a navy-blue Brioni suit with a sky-blue dress shirt and paisley-patterned tie. His dark hair was brushed away from his face, emphasizing his burnished skin and dark eyes.
Objectively, Bebe had no trouble seeing that her unwanted fiancé was a very attractive man. But he did absolutely nothing for her—unlike Cal, who could turn her on simply by smiling.
“Bindu, it’s so lovely to see you. Have a seat,” he invited, waving a hand toward one of the chairs in front of the sofa.
She ignored him. “What are you doing here, Akash?”
“I wanted to see my beloved fiancée.”
“How did you know where I was?”
“That’s a ridiculous question, Bindu. I always know where you are.”
Akash’s smile sent chills down her spine, and she abruptly realized that he scared her. Although she had always taken his threats seriously, she had never actively feared him. But she did now, and she wasn’t sure what had changed.
“Why are you here?”
“My parents thought you could use my support during this difficult period. Pitaa and Maataa were so disappointed you weren’t able to come to India as planned, and they suggested that I come to you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, stroking her fingers over the sleeve of the cashmere coat Cal had given her. Just the thought of him made her breathe easier.
“Are you happy to see me?” Akash asked silkily.
“No,” she answered curtly. “I’m not happy to see you.”
Without warning, his hand shot out, and he roughly grabbed her forearm. Pulling her over to one of the chairs, he shoved her into it.
“I am a Mehra, and you will show me the respect I deserve,” he snarled. “Now, I ask you again, are you happy to see me?”
As she stared up at Akash, she had an even greater appreciation for Cal. On paper, the two men had a lot in common. Both were from extremely prominent and powerful families. Both possessed unimaginable wealth, and both were intelligent, well-educated, and exceptionally good-looking.
But Akash and Cal were nothing—nothing—alike. Akash was an entitled, arrogant bully who lacked empathy. Cal was charming and funny, and he treated everyone with respect, regardless of their wealth or position in society.
Cal was an amazing, wonderful man, and she was in love with him. She had loved him for so long, but she had told herself it was a crush. Although she didn’t really believe in love at first sight, she wondered if maybe she had fallen for him when they had first met.
She had been in love with him when she had lived in another city and pretended to hate him. She had been in love with him when she had turned him down and when they’d had sex for the first time.
She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been in love with him. She hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself, especially since she had never expected him to return her feelings.
But things were different now. They were a couple, and even though he hadn’t said the words, his actions suggested that he loved her, too.
“When will your business here be finished?” Akash asked abruptly.
“I’m not sure,” she prevaricated.
She didn’t want to share her travel plans with him. She didn’t want to share anything with him.
“I have one of the Mehra jets on standby.” He returned to his position on the sofa. “When you are ready to leave, you will fly to Delhi with me instead of San Francisco.”
She almost laughed at his ridiculous demand but managed to suppress it at the last moment. “That’s impossible. This is the absolute worst time for GGB, and I am not going to shirk my professional responsibilities.”
“You will come to Delhi with me, Bindu, and you will stay there. You will resign your position immediately, and we will ship your belongings to you. My father has grown suspicious of the authenticity of our relationship. He questions why you continue to live in the U.S. when your life should be in Delhi with me.”
Akash leaned back, casually settling his arm along the back of the sofa and crossing his legs. “I wanted to wait until we could talk in person to discuss my expectations of you once we’re married. My parents are eager for more grandchildren, and I want to begin trying for children as soon as possible.”
Bebe worked hard to keep her face impassive. The thought of bearing Akash’s children was so repugnant, she was sick to her stomach. There was only one man she wanted to have children with, and that man was Cal. She wanted sons and daughters who were just like him.
“It is my hope you’ll get pregnant immediately,” he added with a little moue of distaste.
All of a sudden, Bebe knew why Akash had been so willing to have an absent fiancée and an engagement of convenience. At last, she understood why he had no interest in finding another bride.
“You’re gay,” she stated with absolute certainty.
He smiled tightly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Bindu. Homosexuality is illegal, according to the Supreme Court of India. And my parents would never condone criminal behavior.”
Empathy welled within her. “I’m sorry,” she apologized sincerely. “I’m sorry they cannot accept the person you are.”
Uncrossing his legs, Akash scooted to the edge of the sofa until their faces were only inches apart. “It doesn’t matter who I am or am not. The person I will be is your husband.”
Chapter 30
Teagan’s office door was open, and Cal poked his head around the door frame to see if his sister was there or if she had decided to move into the White House and take over the world. She was at her desk, talking into her headset, and when she saw him, she smiled and waved him inside. As he took a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of her desk, she wrapped up her call and pulled off the headset.
“I saw you booked a couple of hours on my schedule this afternoon,” she said, tucking a tendril of wavy dark hair behind her ear. “What’s up?”
“I want to get your opinion on the engagement ring I picked out for Bebe.”
Her blue eyes widened. “Engagement ring?”
He nodded. “It’s at the DeBeer’s boutique in Union Square. I made an appointment for three p.m.”
“You’re going to ask Bebe to marry you?” she asked, the pitch of her voice falling somewhere between a squeal and a screech.
“That’s usually what happens next after a man buys an engagement ring,” he answered wryly.
A mischievous grin curved her mouth. “I thought it would take you a few more months to find the guts to propose, since it took you four years to ask her out.”
“It did not take me four years to ask her out.”
“You’re right. It was more like four and a half years.”
He snorted, disgusted with himself. “I know. I was a pussy.”
“Yeah, you were.” She arched her dark eyebrows. “So how long did it take you to tell her that you loved her?”
Glancing down, he rubbed the back of his neck. To his shame, he still hadn’t mustered the courage to say those three little words to Bebe. Other than his mother, Grandma Vi, and Teagan, he had said “I love you” to only one woman: Saika. Technically, he hadn’t even said the words first.
He and Valerie had been watching TV while Saika cooked dinner. Valerie had snuggled up next to him and said, “I love you, Cal,” in her sweet little girl voice, and he replied, “I love you, too, Ballerina.”
When Valerie asked if he loved her mommy, too, he answered, “Yes.” She shouted out to Saika: “Do you love Cal, Mommy?” Saika had looked at him for a long time from her position at the kitchen island before saying, “Yes, I love Cal.”
Saika had loved him, but she hadn’t been in love with him. And his feelings for Bebe were very different from what he’d felt for Saika.
“You’ve told Bebe you love her, right?” Teagan asked.
“No,” he admitted.
She gasped. “What is wrong with you?”
“She hasn’t told me she loves me, either,” he responded defensively.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Are you waiting for her to say it first?”
He remembered a previous conversation with Quinn during which Cal had advised his older brother to “man up” and tell Amelia that he loved her. Cal needed to take his own advice. But he broke out in a cold sweat when he thought about all the ways Bebe could respond. She could destroy him with a handful of words—anything that wasn’t “I love you, too.”
“It takes a lot of balls to say ‘I love you’ when you’re not sure if you’ll hear it back,” he pointed out.
Teagan frowned. “You’re afraid to say ‘I love you’ but you’re not afraid to ask her to marry you?”
“I’m thinking strategically. I’m going to tell her how I feel, and if she feels the same way, I’m going to propose. I figure there’s a higher probability she’ll say yes if she doesn’t have time to think about it.”
He had no idea how Bebe would respond to his proposal because they had never discussed marriage. He was taking a big risk, but he had wasted too much time already. He didn’t want there to be any doubt that she belonged with him and he belonged with her.
He wasn’t going to be okay with a long engagement, either. Maybe they could have a quickie wedding in Las Vegas.
Teagan eyed him thoughtfully. “You don’t need to worry, Cal. Bebe is in love with you.”
“Did she tell you that or are you making an assumption?”
She shook her head. “She didn’t tell me, but it’s obvious. I think she’s loved you for a long time.”
“I hope you’re right because I’ve loved her for a long time, too. I think I’ve always loved her. It sounds horrible, but I loved her when I was with other women, even Saika,” he confessed. “I would have married Saika even though a part of me wanted to be with Bebe. I just never thought I had a chance with her.”
“I understand,” Teagan replied emphatically. “I really do. I was in love with Nick, but I couldn’t imagine he would want to be with me. I wanted to give myself a chance to be happy with someone else so I dated Marshall.”
A long-forgotten memory tickled the back of Cal’s mind. “When Quinn and I went to Miami for the Super Bowl, Quinn suggested that Priest check out Marshall to see if he was a decent guy, since we weren’t there to do it. I didn’t understand why Priest was so pissed off, but now I get it.”
Her lips quirked. “Now you get it.”
Pulling his phone from his hip pocket, he checked the time. “T, we need to get a move on.”
Rising from her seat, she rounded her desk. She always dressed more businesslike than most Riley O’Brien & Co. employees, and today she had chosen a cropped black leather jacket, a pale pink silk shirt, a black skirt, and black leather boots.
He eyed the high-heeled boots, wondering how fast she could walk in them. Actually, they were so tall, he wondered how she could walk in them at all.
“Taxi?” he suggested.
She nodded gratefully, and they made their way out of Riley Plaza. Fortunately, a taxi had just dropped someone off right in front of the building, and they were able to nab it.
As they pulled away from the curb, Teagan said, “Did you hear that Quinn finally convinced Ava Grace to meet with Beck and the Trinity guys?”
“Really? When Quinn first mentioned it, she didn’t seem that interested in Trinity.”
“I don’t think she’s interested in Trinity at all.”
“Then why . . .” She shot him a sideways glance, and he suddenly understood what she wasn’t saying. “Oh. You think she’s interested in Beck?”
Teagan shrugged. “I honestly can’t think of any other reason why she’d agree to the meeting.” She smiled slowly. “And Beck is finger-lickin’ good.”
“Finger-lickin’ good?”
She snickered. “Well, he’s from Kentucky. It makes sense.”
Before they could further discuss Beck’s finger-lickin’ goodness or Ava Grace’s motives for meeting with him, the taxi pulled up in front of the DeBeer’s storefront. After paying the fare, Cal exited the taxi and helped Teagan out.
He ushered her toward the opaque glass building, which seemed almost translucent until you got close, and then the glass walls turned into mirrors. The DeBeer’s boutique mimicked the building’s exterior, and opaque glass panels were situated throughout the space.
He and Teagan stopped at the reception desk just inside the door, and he gave his name to the young blonde stationed there. Moments later, a short, rotund man hurried from a door near the back of the boutique. His speed, coupled with his dark suit and white dress shirt, made him look like a penguin skating across ice.
“Mr. O’Brien,” he gushed, shaking Cal’s hand. “I’m delighted to see you again.”
“T, this is Branson Markham. He helped me pick out Bebe’s ring. Branson, this is my sister, Teagan O’Brien-Priest. I brought her with me today because I wanted her opinion.”
Branson extended his left hand to Teagan instead of his right. “Congratulations on your recent nuptials, Mrs. O’Brien-Priest.”
After an awkward pause, Teagan offered her left hand, and Branson took it in both of his. He immediately eyed her engagement ring and wedding band, turning her hand back and forth so the diamonds caught the light.
“Oh, my,” he breathed. “What an exquisite example of vintage art deco design. Mr. Priest has excellent taste in jewelry.” He looked up at Teagan. “And if I may be so presumptuous to say so, he also has excellent taste in women.”
Cal chuckled when Teagan’s face turned red. He happened to agree with Branson. His little sister was pretty damn fantastic, even if she did annoy the hell out of him at times.
“I have heard you possess one of the largest private collections of vintage jewelry in the country,” Branson noted, stroking his fingers over the large round diamond in Teagan’s engagement ring.
She nodded. “My grandmother, Violet O’Brien, left her collection to me when she died. We plan to showcase some of the pieces in her new museum.”
Branson sighed blissfully, dropping Teagan’s fingers and clasping his chubby hands beneath his double chin. “What a treat that will be!” He shifted his attention toward Cal. “Are you ready to see the ring, Mr. O’Brien?”
Cal nodded, eager to hear what Teagan would have to say about the ring he’d chosen for Bebe.
“Please follow me,” Branson invited. “I’ve reserved a private viewing room.”
They trailed after Branson as he weaved his way through several glass cases filled with sparkly, shiny jewelry. When they reached a door made of opaque glass, he placed his hand on a biometric security scanner to open it and gestured for them to precede him.
