“He’s happy.” Sinclair sighs. “It’s what we wanted, me and Sullivan. And Uncle Mal. The whole family. He needed you.”
“No, I was the one who needed him.”
He says something that has the men with him nodding along in interest. One is Lawson, the art gallery owner. Another is Frankie. I’m sure Sterling said he worked in real estate when I met them both at the charity gala. And there’s a third man with them tonight, a lawyer, who Sterling introduced as Roman.
They look like a real-life commercial for sexy men’s suits, all standing together like that.
Sinclair gives me a coy look like she can read my mind.
“I’ve always thought Roman was pretty hot, as far as older guys go,” she says, her eyes tracking to the tall dark-haired man.
I follow her gaze but my attention fixes on Denver by accident instead. He’s standing against one wall, in his usual black suit, close to where the group of men are talking.
“Do you think Denver misses giving you rides now that you have your car back?”
Sinclair laughs, her eyes rolling. “You’re funny. That sparkling personality of a man has barely spoken to me in the last five years. I figure he was born like it. Must have been at the back of the line when God handed out conversation skills.”
I look back over at Denver, his eyes are on Sinclair, but he looks away the moment he sees me looking at him.
“Do you want another drink?” Sinclair asks.
“I’m good.”
“Okay. I’ll be back.”
I smile at her before she makes her way to one of the long glass display cabinets that is serving as a bar area for tonight.
I sip my juice, soaking up the ambiance. Sterling said it was a small ‘intimate’ affair. But there must be around eighty people moving around the store, not including the staff who are carrying around the velvet display stands, showcasing the new designs. I’ve seen many of the guests try pieces on and marvel at how beautiful they are. I knew Beaufort Diamonds was a world-famous brand. But seeing it like this is still spectacular.
The store area itself is double height and has a huge, intricate crystal chandelier. All of the lighting makes the jewelry in the display cabinets glimmer so brightly it’s almost blinding. Sterling gave me a tour when we arrived while Sullivan barked out meticulous orders to his staff. The rear office areas and private viewing rooms are dripping in luxury. Marble floors, velvet seating, silk cushions. Fish tanks with jewelry displayed inside them in large ornamental shells. The whole building smells of something expensive, like they pump out fragrance from the walls.
It’s an experience just setting foot through the doorman operated entrance.
Sterling showed me the safe too. All of the millions of dollars’ worth of jewels they haven’t made into pieces to sell yet. I was too nervous to touch anything.
Sinclair looks at me from over at the bar where she’s been pulled into a conversation with a couple who are admiring one of the new pieces—a bracelet—that she’s wearing. I smile back to let her know I’m all right by myself before heading to the restrooms to freshen up.
My face glows in the ornate mirrors that are inside. Maybe it’s all the orgasms. For every one of Sterling’s, I have at least three. I’m so sexually attracted to him, it’s insane. Now I’m finally letting it all in, my body literally hums with this aroused energy for him constantly. It’s almost unbearable at times. I want his skin against mine all the time.
I bite my lower lip at the warm dampness in my panties, the evidence I asked him to leave for me so I could still feel him this evening while we’re apart.
I exit the restroom and slow my steps as I recognize two deep voices coming from around the corner at the end of the corridor.
“I’ve got some in my office. I’ll get them for you. You need to wrap it up, Dad. Unless you want to get Halliday pregnant.”
I clap a hand over my mouth, creeping closer. I’m not sure whether to laugh or be mortified that Sullivan is talking to Sterling about us in this way.
“I don’t need a biology lesson, Son. I know how these things work.” Sterling chuckles.
I don’t know what I expected him to say. But the way he’s so calm about it, not panicking, makes something glow inside my chest.
“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you if you end up getting called Daddy again,” Sullivan grumbles.
“Being called Daddy, huh?” Sterling muses in his deep gravelly tone.
Sullivan scoffs out a disgruntled huff. “I don’t want to know.”
Footsteps echo in my direction but I don’t move fast enough. Sullivan strides around the corner, his jaw set as he pulls his cell from his tuxedo jacket pocket. He almost collides with me, his eyes glued to the screen.
