Tempted and Taken, page 3
Liza walked over to join Penny and Gage on the couch, laughing at Gage, who looked shell-shocked as he took in everything—the table overflowing with food, the noise level driven by the music and the nonstop talking, as well as the laughter, hand gestures, and hugs.
“You hanging in there, Gage?” Liza asked.
He nodded, grinning from ear to ear. “Penny tried to warn me, but until you experience it for yourself…” He paused, shaking his head. “Your family is awesome.” He’d spoken loud enough for Liza to hear over the din, which meant Uncle Frank and Uncle Tommy, who were standing nearby, had also heard, both giving Gage approving nods.
“How was dinner?” Liza was aware that the couple had arrived here following their annual Christmas Eve dinner with Gage’s brothers. Liza told herself she was asking because she was interested in her friends’ holiday, but the truth was, she was fishing for any tidbit she could get about Matt.
Not that she was worried Matt would kiss and tell about their evening together. She suspected he’d been as blindsided by it as she had.
“It was good,” Gage said. “Though I was glad for the invitation to have dessert here. I swear to God, Matt’s goal every year is to find a restaurant that charges more money for less food. I was hungrier when we left than I was when we got there.”
Penny rolled her eyes, but Liza noticed she didn’t disagree. “At least he didn’t bring Patricia.”
Liza frowned. “Was he going to? I mean…I thought they broke up.”
She didn’t think. She knew. She’d witnessed Patricia slapping Matt after the gala before storming off. It was that confrontation that had led to Matt and Liza sharing the elevator to their hotel rooms. Not that she’d slept in hers. After sneaking out of Matt’s room an hour or so before dawn, she’d gone to retrieve her overnight bag, then left the hotel completely, partly because she was desperate for the comfort of her own bed in her apartment and partly because she was worried he would follow her, and she wouldn’t be able to resist falling right back into his arms and his bed.
“Broke up?” Penny asked, perking up. “What makes you think that?”
Liza wasn’t sure how Matt would feel about her telling tales, so she kept it vague. “They appeared to have a fight just after the Snowflake Gala last Saturday.”
Penny groaned as she pulled out her cell phone. “Damn. I was hoping you knew something we didn’t.” She clicked a few buttons, then turned it around so that Liza could see the screen. “Unfortunately, these were taken last Sunday, the day after the gala, so it looks like they patched things up.”
Liza took Penny’s phone, recognizing the website as a tabloid-style one that spread gossip about the East Coast elite. She never looked at it because she couldn’t give two shits about the Patricias of the world.
“Toby has an annoying habit of reading this crap out loud at work. He’s addicted to Real Housewives, Married at First Sight, and anything with the Kardashians. The guy’s got issues and way too much time on his hands,” Penny explained. “He really needs to find a girlfriend.”
Liza wanted to laugh because she’d spent quite a bit of time with Penny’s IT colleagues, Toby and Rich—the nerd circle, as the three of them called themselves. There was no denying Toby would have been right at home on the set of The Big Bang Theory.
However, she was too hung up on what she was seeing. The photos were of Patricia and Matt, sitting in the window of a ritzy restaurant. In the first picture, it appeared that Matt was giving Patricia a ring-shaped box, her hand outstretched as she smiled. In the second, they were talking and drinking wine, a harmless enough pose…until Liza spotted the diamond tennis bracelet dangling from Patricia’s wrist.
Liza felt her face flush as she recalled Matt encouraging her to open Patricia’s gift, putting the bracelet on her, then declaring if he’d been shopping for her, he wouldn’t have given her diamonds. Instead, he’d told her he would give her rubies, listing all the scandalous places he would put the jewels. It was that racy list that had been her downfall, that had propelled them from the couch to the bedroom, her resistance in tatters.
She’d worn the bracelet right up until she’d made her middle-of-the-night escape. Dressing quietly, she had slipped back to the living room, sitting down to put her shoes back on, catching sight of the bracelet as it glittered in the moonlight. She’d taken it off and left it behind. Apparently, Matt had decided to go ahead and give it to its intended recipient.
The final photo was taken outside the restaurant, beside a limo, the couple locked together in a kiss.
While the pictures were damning enough, it was the headline that had Liza’s stomach clenching, her foolish heart pounding painfully.
It said, “Is That Wedding Bells We Hear?” There was an article attached, but Liza didn’t read it, handing the phone back to Penny. She told herself she wouldn’t look up the story when she got home tonight to read it word for word, but that lie wouldn’t stick.
“So what did Matt say about it?” Liza forced herself to ask.
Penny scowled, shooting Gage an annoyed look. “I’m not exactly comfortable enough with Matt yet to bring it up, and Gage won’t ask. Just swears Matt isn’t marrying her.”
“How can you be so sure?” Liza asked him.
“Because my brother is never getting married. Period. End of sentence. He’s married to his work.”
Gage spoke with such assurance that Liza almost felt better.
Almost.
Then she thought about the pictures again and hated herself for feeling disappointed and angry, both misplaced emotions.
She and Matt hadn’t made any promises to each other. Christ, the last thing they said before falling asleep was that it had been a mistake, so she was an idiot for feeling hurt and pissed off.
It was just…she hadn’t been able to think about anything but him for seven days and nights, the man consuming her thoughts and her dreams.
To discover that she’d been entirely forgettable, that she’d been just another woman taking a spin in the revolving door that led to Matt’s bedroom, cut like a knife and made her feel like a fool.
Even as she struggled to quash those feelings, she still couldn’t bring herself to regret that night.
“I hope you’re right about Matt’s determination to stay single,” Penny said to Gage. “Because Patricia gives off serious ‘we wear pink on Wednesday’ vibes. I had to deal with too many of her type in school when I was growing up.”
Gage’s eyes softened and he kissed his wife on the forehead. “Assholes like that are always the worst to people who are the biggest threat. You’re gorgeous, brilliant, funny, and perfect, so obviously, women like Patricia Eddington are intimidated.”
“Oh, well, of course,” Penny said sardonically. “I’m sure that was their problem with me back in school.” She laughed, dismissing his words even though she was clearly delighted by Gage’s compliment. “Thank you for saying that.”
“Saying the truth? No problem.” Gage wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “You’re worrying about nothing,” he reassured her. “Matt’s never getting married, Penny. Not to Patricia or any other pink-wearing mean girl. I promise.”
The more Gage reiterated his point with such undeniable confidence, the more Liza wondered how he could be so damn sure.
It was true that Matt had never given any indication he was interested in giving up his bachelor status—no long-term relationships, no broken engagements—so Liza wasn’t sure why she would question Gage’s conviction.
Then she considered that maybe she wasn’t questioning the words so much as she was bothered by them.
Why didn’t Matt want to get married? What the hell had happened to make him so opposed to the institution?
She didn’t know much about Matt and Gage’s parents’ relationship. Actually, she didn’t know a damn thing about it, other than they had both died when their sons were young, in their early twenties. Conor, the youngest brother, might have still been in his teens.
The easy thing would be to blame Matt’s aversion to marriage on his mom and dad, assuming they had a fucked-up relationship.
But then she looked at Gage and Penny and saw the way he’d embraced his marriage to her. If that had been the case, obviously Gage hadn’t taken away the same lesson.
So perhaps he didn’t want to get married for some other reason.
And that was when Liza recalled something at the gala.
She’d caught a glimpse of emotion in Matt’s eyes, something resigned, something lonely. Originally, she had seen it and thought she’d met her kindred spirit because she was no stranger to those emotions.
But when she thought about it now, the only word she could come up with was…
Broken.
Chapter Three
“It sounds like a great deal, Conor. One that will make you a lot of money.” Matt sat with his arm resting along the back of the couch in his brother’s office in Enigma.
His youngest brother, Conor, was sitting in his desk chair, his feet propped up on the surface, crossed at the ankle. He nodded, the edges of his lips curving up in what Matt assumed was supposed to pass for a smile.
Ordinarily, Matt didn’t notice his brother’s expressions, but he’d spent the last hour with Conor, the two of them discussing what was going to be a very lucrative project for his brother, one that Matt could see he was looking forward to, and yet, Conor hadn’t smiled. Not once.
It wasn’t that his brother was miserable. Like Gage, Conor had a good sense of humor and a cutting wit. Matt had been a witness to it over Christmas Eve dinner, his two brothers joking around with each other, teasing in that way only brothers could get away with.
Matt had watched from the sidelines because he hadn’t been included in that bubble of fun. He didn’t think he’d been purposely excluded, rather they probably assumed he wouldn’t join in. After all, he never did. With him, his brothers were all work and no play, those relationship parameters set when Matt had still been in his teens.
He’d been fascinated by their behavior because the playfulness between Conor and Gage was relatively new. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say it was something old that had vanished for nearly a decade only to reappear recently.
For ten years, following the deaths of their parents, Matt and his brothers had retreated to separate bunkers like enemy generals in a standoff. The close relationship they’d shared as young boys was so far in the past, Matt struggled sometimes to convince himself it ever existed. Because when he looked back at those years when they’d been kids, waging epic Nerf gun battles, building countless models out of Legos, and racing up and down the driveway in front of their house on their bikes, he felt as if he was watching his own memories like a TV show, from an outsider’s perspective rather than someone who’d experienced them.
That closeness went away when their parents died.
No. Matt reconsidered that.
It had gone away much earlier than that, the distance between them growing when Matt’s father decided that his oldest son—at thirteen—needed to stop acting like a “fucking kid” and start learning the family business. Being yanked away from his brothers—who’d been his best friends up until then—was hard for Matt, and he’d been resistant initially. But much like the Borg, resistance was futile when it came to Dante Russo. He was determined to bring Matt to heel and, much as it chafed to think about nowadays, Dad had been successful in molding him into the man he wanted Matt to be, a mirror image of himself.
The emotional distance between him and his brothers had remained in place for way too long, despite the fact they’d taken over Russo Enterprises after Dad’s death. All they’d managed to maintain was a professional relationship, sprinkled with what his brothers probably considered “family obligations,” like the holidays, occasional happy hours, and birthday dinners.
However, things between them began to change after Gage fell in love with Penny. His brother had tried hard to deny his feelings for her, Gage’s fear of losing her so strong that he pretended what he felt wasn’t love.
It had killed Matt to see his brother so lost, so sad, so he’d staged an intervention, dragging Conor along.
Matt wondered now if he’d realized where the conversation would lead them that day if he would have initiated it at all. Because it became clear Gage’s resistance to Penny had everything to do with their mother’s suicide.
For the first time ever, they’d opened that door, talked about her, about their grief, and it had helped Gage, helped his brother face his fears and admit he was in love with Penny.
In the past year, Matt had watched as the brother he hadn’t even realized he’d lost re-emerged.
The same couldn’t be said for Matt.
He swallowed, fighting to dislodge the lump that clogged his throat. The memories of his mother that he’d managed to hold at bay for so long had returned full force after that intervention. Because he’d learned that Gage had blamed himself for Mom’s suicide, and that realization had gutted Matt.
Fucking gutted him.
There was someone to blame for her death…but it sure as hell wasn’t Gage.
It was him.
And now, the memories—and the nightmares—were back, battering him relentlessly as he recalled the days, weeks, and months after his mother’s death, when his anger at the world, at his father, at himself, burned so brightly he should have been rendered to ash.
The constant drip-drip-drip of water.
Look deeper.
Matt closed his eyes, pushed the memories from his mind before they could fully form.
“Harper plans to move to Philly by March. In the meantime, I’m in charge of looking for a potential property to purchase.” Conor had signed on to become an investor in supermodel Harper Branson’s new restaurant. Harper had semi-retired from modeling and gone to culinary school, and now she was looking to open a restaurant in Philadelphia. The plan had been in the works for over a year, but Harper had extended her studies to include earning a degree not just in culinary arts, but in restaurant management as well.
“You sure you’re going to be able to work with a partner?” Matt asked. “All your past endeavors into club and restaurant management have been solo ventures. I’m not sure I can picture you working with a partner.”
Conor was an incredible businessman with the Midas touch. However, he was also—like Matt—a bit of a control freak, so he’d been surprised his brother agreed to an equal partnership.
Conor shrugged. “Harper has very definite ideas about the type of restaurant she wants to run. We’ve discussed the business model we plan to follow and it’s sound. She’s got a winner on her hands, and I want to be involved. Ideally, she would probably prefer to do it on her own, but she knew she needed someone with restaurant experience. After chatting a few times on video calls, it became obvious that we had similar visions. Besides, the only way I would agree to invest was if we were partners, fifty-fifty, and she agreed to it.”
Matt smirked. “Well, I look forward to watching you try that.”
Conor snorted, not bothering to deny the truth. His brother wouldn’t hold his peace if Harper veered in a direction Conor didn’t agree with, so this might not be all smooth sailing. Regardless, Matt agreed that if it all went well, Conor stood to make a lot of money from the venture.
“I tried to call you a couple of times earlier to reconfirm tonight, but it went straight to voicemail. Don’t tell me you scheduled another meeting on New Year’s Eve.”
Matt shook his head. “No. Actually, I was at the Promise House.”
“The homeless shelter for teens?” Conor asked, clearly surprised.
Matt had stopped by the shelter the week following the Snowflake Gala because he’d been moved by Liza’s presentation. With the holiday just days away, he’d wanted to do something for the kids.
Arnold Jackson, the director, had been all too happy to latch on to his offer of assistance. The man had given him a tour of the place, discussing his desire to buy the empty lot behind the large building so they could expand, pointing out that could only happen if enough funds had been raised at the Snowflake Gala. Seeing the need for more beds firsthand had convinced Matt to up his initial contribution.
Matt’s original intention had been to simply give money so that the teens staying there might be able to receive Christmas gifts. However, Arnold was a persuasive bastard and before he knew it, Matt had been dragged into a basketball game with several of the kids living at the house, Arnold insisting that what the teens really needed were adults willing to spend time with them and act as positive role models.
Matt had noticed the state of the kids’ shoes during the basketball game. Devonte, one of the teens he’d been playing with, had used duct tape to keep the soles of his tennis shoes from flapping. The duct-taped shoes had bugged Matt all week, so he’d returned to the Promise House today, requesting every kids’ size so he could get them all a new pair. Arnold had been delighted by his request, and then, somehow, he’d convinced Matt to engage in a rematch with the kids, where—once again—he’d had his ass handed to him.
Matt was no stranger to the gym, but damn if he wasn’t feeling aches and pains in more than a few of his muscles right now.
“What the hell were you doing there?” Conor asked.
“I attended the Snowflake Gala before the holidays, and I was very impressed by the director and the work they’re doing there. I wanted to see more.” Matt went on to tell Conor about the basketball games, his brother’s eyes so wide with surprise, Matt wasn’t sure whether or not to be pissed off. Why was it so out of the realm of believability that he’d play basketball with homeless teens?
Of course, as soon as that thought crossed his mind, he understood Conor’s shock. Because it was a completely implausible scenario. Or, at least, it had been. Until Liza encouraged him to pull his head out of his ass and look around at all the genuine need in the community. She’d opened his eyes to things he’d been far too content to remain blind to.
