And what a goddamn long year it had been. On the outside he might be smiling, but inside he was tired as all hell and wanted nothing more than to pack his suitcase and get on a flight home.
Home to Chess.
God, he missed him. The year had been a brutal one for travel, and he winced, knowing they’d been apart more than together. Chess grounded him and kept him sane. They’d never been apart this long, and he missed him more than he thought possible.
He recalled their first meeting, the inevitability of it. At the university event that evening, when Chess had walked away, leaving him with Turcotte and Williamson, André felt he’d lost something special. Someone destined to be a part of his life…the most important part. The pull to be with Chess—to talk to him more, to learn his likes and dislikes, to see his eyes brighten with laughter—caused him to make an inane excuse to the two board members and rush after Chess, hoping to catch him before he left for the night. And once he found him, he wouldn’t let him go.
Chess turned out to be the guiding light leading him home. Love at first sight was in André’s blood—it had happened that way with his parents, and he loved their fairy-tale story. It was clear to him from the start that Chess was the man he’d spend the rest of his life with. Maybe it was the glow in his eyes or the gentle sweetness of his smile. All he knew was that with Chess there was no subterfuge, no hidden agenda. He wore his heart on his sleeve. And the years together had proved him right—every day spent with Chess was another day of love.
André allowed himself a small sip of champagne, then set the glass on the table and took his seat. Being the expert hostess that she was, his mother circled the room, speaking with everyone personally. He spied his brother and sister slipping out through the rear doors and sighed his despair.
“Come on, André. You can do better than that. I know from personal experience.” Kyle Lewis, his mother’s chief legal counsel, snickered next to him. “Last night—”
“Was a mistake I won’t allow myself again,” André cut him off smoothly. “I should’ve stopped after the first drink.” Trapped at the table with Kyle was the last place he wanted to be, and he could’ve smacked himself for his stupidity.
“Aw, it was all fun, sweetheart. The culmination of months of hard work, and we all deserve to let loose. It’s not like you jumped on the tables and started dancing.”
“As if.”
The withering look he sent Kyle would’ve made lesser men quiver, but Kyle seemed unfazed. He’d forgotten how little Kyle cared about other people’s opinions. André still seethed that he’d wormed his way back into his life, and he intended to press his mother on why she’d felt the need to hire the man as her personal counsel, when André himself was an attorney. It had been much more unpleasant seeing Kyle face-to-face than the occasional meetings over the computer screen, where he could ignore the man. Perhaps that was another reason he’d slipped up and had too much to drink. His head throbbed slightly, both from the hangover and the company.
Kyle went on, relentless. “Too bad we didn’t take it to the hotel room and continue the celebration in private. You were so free with your kisses, I was hoping you were saving the best for last. Us.”
André froze at the touch of Kyle’s hand on his knee. “What the hell are you doing? Get your hand off me,” he gritted out, a plastic smile pasted on his face so no one else could see his shock and turmoil. “And what do you mean, free with my kisses?”
Kyle’s brows rose, and his lips tipped up in a smirk André wanted to slap off his face. “You let loose. Kissed some random guy in the club. Even Henry was surprised and pulled you away after a minute. And there I was, thinking that meant you’d finally gotten rid of that boring professor of yours and were ready to start again.”
Ah, shit. What the hell have I done?
“I don’t remember any kiss. And I told you years ago we were finished.”
“I made a mistake. I was wrong. But if we were together now, I’d be faithful. You were the only man I ever loved. We were so good together once,” Kyle breathed. “I’ve never met anyone I wanted more.” The hand on his knee slid up his thigh, and André stood up abruptly. Fury shook him, but he swallowed his rage at being touched and leaned in close, face-to-face with his former lover.
“What we had was nothing more than lust. Keep your fucking hands off me. You know I’m with someone. Chess is a better man than you’ll ever be. There will never be an us—I was never in love with you. I know better now.”
“That mousy professor?” Kyle’s voice dripped with derision. “He must give great head. That, and the fact that he’s so much younger, must be the only reasons you stay with him. Maybe we can have a threesome.” Kyle’s dark eyes gleamed.
“If we weren’t in public, I’d put you through the wall.” He neither cared what Kyle had to say nor wanted to hear anything further, so he left the table to make the rounds of good-byes, leaving his mother for last. She was talking with Tobias Carnegie, and he marveled at how fresh and lively she looked when he was dragging and ready for bed.
“Mother, Tobias, I’m off. We’ll be in touch with all the details.”
Time to go home. He crossed the floor and exited the banquet room. A satisfyingslamresounded behind him as the door closed.
“André, wait, please,” a voice he couldn’t ignore or walk away from called out to him.
His stomach tightened, and his footsteps slowed. “Mother. I have to pack. I’m leaving the day after tomorrow, so I need to make sure I have everything ready to go.”
She put a hand on his arm, and he stopped to face her. As always, he couldn’t help being impressed by her poise. Given her innate sense of style, he could easily envision the young Margery Alcott becoming the fashion icon of her debutante season. Very beautiful and very rich, she’d received five marriage proposals prior to her twenty-first birthday and had rejected them all. Then she’d met Corbin Webster at a charity fashion show, where she was one of the models. Ten years older than her and from one of the richest families in New York, thanks to his family’s savvy real-estate investments, he’d blown past all the other men vying for her and, as his brother Henry liked to say whenever the story came up, put a ring on it. Fifteen flawless carats’ worth. They were married for almost fifty years before his father died three years ago, the cancer that had spread through his blood and bones the one fight in his life he lost. André missed him every single day.
His mother’s red-lipsticked mouth tightened. “You aren’t leaving. You can’t. I’ve set up a meeting for Friday. I think we should invest in the Singapore market, and I want you to fly there at the end of the month and scout properties to take over for us. There are several on the brink I’ve had my eye on for a while now, and the time is ripe.”
At seventy-two, and Chairperson of Webster Properties, his mother still kept her finger on the pulse of the everyday business of the company and ignored everyone when they tried to tell her she should relax and enjoy her life. With his father gone, she’d thrown herself into the company, and while André was glad she’d found an outlet for her loneliness, the day-to-day actual operations of the business rested on his shoulders, and he was beginning to feel the weight of the burden.
“Mother, I-I can’t. I promised Chess I’d take the rest of the month off. I’ve been away more than I’ve been home this year, and it isn’t fair to him.”
Her eyes sparked fire. “What’s not fair is you leaving in the middle of a dinner celebrating months of negotiations, just to run home. It isn’t fair to leave us when the company is taking its rightful position as the number one luxury boutique brand in the world. I didn’t have a chance to tell you yet, but in addition to the expansion, I have meetings set up to begin selling our own brand of high-end bath goods, bed linens, and even loungewear. You’re an integral part of those plans.”
“Me? Talking about soaps and sheets? Mother, you have the wrong person. Frankly, you’d be better off with Chess’s best friend Spencer. Luxury goods are his forte. I couldn’t care less what brand of shampoo I use.” His laughter proved to be the wrong approach, as she glared at him.
