Of course she will. Better to let me be the bad guy.
I pocket my phone as my driver comes into view, his professionally printed sign standing out in a sea of handwritten posters.
“Mr. D’Angelo?” he asks as I approach.
“That’s me. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too. I’m Tony. This way please.”
The icy morning air hits me as we walk away from the building, no longer in the safety of the wind barrier. It’s cold as fuck compared to San Francisco, and I’m only now remembering I didn’t bring a coat. I didn’t bring anything other than my laptop, notebook, and phone. The plan is to fly in, get this deal done, and fly out.
Yes, we have Vance as a potential waiting in the wings, but I want Beckett. I was set on securing him for the team, and no asshole ex-owner is going to stand in my way.
“Still heading to the Broadmoor Hotel?”
“Yes, please.”
“With the morning rush, it’s likely to take us thirty minutes. Would you like a coffee for the drive?”
God, yes.“That would be great. Thank you.”
“Not a problem. I know a place five minutes down the road.”
I nod as Tony opens the back door of his blacked-out Audi. “I have a special in-car desk if you need it.”
“Wow. Yes, thank you.”
Tony walks around to the trunk and returns with a desk that fits perfectly in my lap while not actually resting on my legs.
I’m admiring the structure as Tony sits down in the driver’s seat. “Did you make this?”
“My son did.”
“I need one of these for home. Does he sell them?”
“No, sir. It’s a one-off. He’s a man of many talents.”
“I’ll say. Please pass on my thanks.”
Tony nods before focusing his attention on his job, while my mind flashes back to Keeley’s comment from the other night. When I toldhershe was a woman of many talents.
I think that’s the line that shifted the energy in the room, and it’s my fault.
When it comes to Keeley, I thought I’d drawn a deep line in the sand, placing her on the side marked “friend.” The problem is, I can’t stop fucking thinking about her as more than that, not lately anyway. All she has to do is touch me these days and I’m picturing myself throwing her over my shoulder and taking her to bed.
I’d love to say it’s because we spend so much time together and there isn’t anyone else. Maybe I just need a good fuck? Maybe I need to relieve some tension the way only having sex can.
But…to do that, I’d need to entertain the idea of being with someone else, and at the moment, I can’t.
I may be a workaholic, but I pass by beautiful women every day—in my building, when I’m out for a run, on the goddamn magazine stand while I line up to pay for my groceries. Without sounding too cocky, I could use my wealth to seduce almost anyone I wanted. Almost. But while Icando that, I never would. The thought alone makes me uncomfortable. And not all of those feelings stem from my moral high ground. It’s also the fact that I don’twantanyone else.
Only I don’t want Keeley either. I mean I do…but I don’t.
And that’s a fucked-up predicament to be in.
After a quick stop for coffee, we pull up in front of the Broadmoor Hotel, and I glance down at my laptop, the screen still black. I was raving about the fancy car desk, and yet, I was so far inside my head that I didn’t even use it.
Fucking Keeley.
