Consoled by this steely determination, he didn’t walk over to the window to see if Kate had left yet, even though a frustrating part of him remained curious. Rather, he grabbed a wet cloth from his kitchen and began to clean the mess. He could have called housekeeping, but didn’t want to explain why he had fruit and whipped cream on his wall. Not that he made a habit of explaining his messes.
Once he’d finished, he planted himself at his desk, and returned a dozen work related calls. All the while doing his best to forget a particular pair of reproving, yet sympathetic, hazel eyes.
After having pulled a late night at Vice, sleeping in his casino office, Liam arose for an early start. He’d taken time to sit in on some auditions by a couple of acts hoping for a spot at the casino’s piano bar Decadence. He had managers on staff who were responsible for booking talent, but when it came to hiring new acts, he liked being in the thick of things. After all, every artist under his roof was a representation of him and of his casinos. He wanted to know each act on his payroll would do him justice.
And it was a good thing too. His bar manager had wanted to hire one of the acts, but Liam had found the woman’s Judy Garland act cheesy. In fact, he’d vetoed all the acts. His manager had turned to him afterward, his face lined with frustration.
Too bad. His club, his rules.
Thank Christ he had insisted on his office being such a homey environment. With the sort of work he did, he often pulled these kind of all-nighters. There were days he didn’t leave his casinos at all. At times like this, he might not see his condo for a week. It helped him keep his mind off his former family life. As he got settled at his desk, he rolled his shoulders and tried to stretch out the nagging pull of sore muscles.
He’d dreamed of her last night, of Kate. Had dreamed of finger-combing her fiery mane of hair, right before he drove into her tight heat.
Fuck.
He stretched out his arms and cracked his knuckles in a feeble attempt to banish the red-headed demon from his visions. But in the end he gave into nagging temptation and wandered over to the window that faced the entrance.
No picket line. No Kate.
Okay. This should be no problem. He was bigger than this…this cock-driven moment of feeblemindedness.
As he attended his meetings that day, he ignored the burn in his stomach. When he once again looked back out the same window hours later, he congratulated himself on finally being rid of the pesky protestor.
Late that afternoon, as he drafted a few emails with his assistant Pearl, he stood as far away as possible from the window.
“Liam?” she prodded. “How do you want to respond to the email about the building permit for the old works building?”
Pearl’s voice barely cut through his consciousness and he didn’t think to answer her.
“Liam?”
He snapped out of his funk for a second. “Which email?”
“The one I sent you yesterday.”
Damn. He’d barely looked at it. “Just…tell him I want a definitive answer. We’ve wasted enough time on this issue.”
Despite his strong words, he knew his tone came out quiet and distracted, and not in a good way. He knew this shit with the building permit office could have been resolved sooner if he’d pushed it more. He should have pushed it more. He wanted to start working on his next property.
Didn’t he?
For some reason, he just wasn’t excited about the new project. His enthusiasm for building had waned, truth be told. Was he losing his fire, his drive?
Or was his fire simply smoking in another direction?
Pearl, a kind-hearted older woman, approached him from the side and put a hand on his sleeve. “Are you okay, Liam?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Nando Perreira left two messages this morning.”
“I know.”
She gave his arm a rub, but he gently pulled away. Professional to a fault, Pearl didn’t usually allow her inner nurturer to manifest, but when it did, it made him uncomfortable. He hadn’t had much mothering growing up and still didn’t quite know what to do with it.
His stepmom Shauna had guaranteed that. She’d made sure he never understood what it felt like to have the support of a good woman in his life. She was most likely the reason he’d fouled up every relationship he’d had. She’d turned him into an unforgiving bastard who hated to lose, who had to be in control, and every time something shitty happened to him, he heard her voice.
You’re not my son. I’ll never think of you as my son. You mean nothing to me.
