But it’s a far cry from the palatial grounds and manicured lawns of the mansion we grew up in. It’s certainly not what anyone would expect for the man who is the head of one of the richest families in the country. But just like the life, career, and wife Remi chose, it fits him.
I envy him that—knowing what he wants, being sure about where he belongs.
I used to think I knew exactly where my life was going. So much so, that I’ve spent the ten years since the slip-up with Kayleigh busting my ass to prove that I was fit to lead.
But it wasn’t enough. A few months ago, my mother passed me up for the job I’d spent my whole life preparing for, despite the fact that I was more than qualified for it. I went from being the heir apparent to lead at Wilde World—a role I’d always thought of as my destiny—to facing the possibility that it might not happen.
The bonds of my relationship with my mother have gone from strained to threadbare. She likes to say everything changed in the blink of an eye, but the truth is, nothing changed at all. She just saw something of my father in me that she hated, and she’s been making me pay for his sins ever since.
But I’m done letting her.
I walk over to the railing of the wraparound porch and stare out into the night, rolling my neck to loosen the knots that always form when I think about my fucked-up family.
This job I’ve been pursuing in Paris would give me a chance to breathe and see who I can be without them. And then tonight, my mother makes her announcement. That not only does she have a man—she's moving her offices to London to be close to him. I’m happy for her, but it’s not exactly the distance I was hoping for.
A door on the other end of the verandah opens, and a woman steps through it, but she’s too shadowed for me to see who it is.
"It doesn't matter what you say, I'm done.” It's Dina, Wilde World’s newest star employee and current president of the Tyson Wilde Haters Association. The membership is comprised of disgruntled one-night stands, athletic rivals, and guys I've fucked up for disrespecting my sister.
Dina isn’t any of those things, so I don’t know why she acts like I’ve got cooties, but it’s been a lot of fun to tease her about it.
Not that I don’t wish I could convince her differently. Not only is she fucking beautiful. I mean, even dressed in those boring work clothes she wears, she made my “seen everything at least once” eyes do a double take the first time I saw her.
She’s also one of the smartest, most determined, and funniest people I’ve ever met. It’s a good thing I’m so focused on my career because if I wasn’t, Dina Lu is just the kind of woman who could make me take my eyes off the ball. Not that she’s interested in me that way.
“Sign the papers, or a judge will do it for you,” she snarls into the phone.
Aware that if she knew I was here she wouldn’t be speaking so freely, I clear my throat loudly.
“Shit. I have to go.” The light from the phone dies, and she calls out, “Is someone there?"
I don’t respond right away. Not when I have the chance to look at her without receiving one of her death glares. The dress she’s wearing would look simple and plain on anyone else, but on her body it can’t be anything but sexy.
It’s the first time in the year since she started working for us that I’ve seen her in anything but the terrible clothes she wears at the office. They do a near criminal disservice to her classic Coke bottle figure.
The makeup she’s wearing makes her deeply slanted, wide-set brown eyes look sultry and even more alluring than they do when she’s barefaced. And instead of the tightly tamed bun she forces her large mane of curls into, tonight her hair falls in waves that skim her bare shoulders. My fingers dance at my side, itching to know if her skin is as soft as it looks.
“Who’s there?” she repeats in a more forceful tone.
"Your walking wet dream,” I quip as I step into the light that’s spilling through the window between us.
She crosses her arms over her ample chest and gives me a withering frown. "I should have known that on a hellish night like this, I'd bump into the very devil himself."
I laugh, amused by her vexation. "I don't know why you put so much energy into pretending to dislike me.”
“And I don’t know why you’re following me. Every time I turn around, there you are.”
I laugh again, this time longer and louder. “I’m not following you. You, on the other hand, are clearly obsessed with me.”
She rolls her eyes. "The only thing bigger than your ego—"
"Is my dick," I finish for her.
"Is your lack of tact,” she says primly.
"And—my bank account," I add with a wink.
She scoffs. "You are so sad. You think money and your dick are all you have to give."
“They’re all I want to give,” I correct her.
“Also, sad."
"From what I just heard, seems like you gave more, and it didn't turn out too well for you. Now, who's sad and who's right?"
To my surprise, she doesn’t shoot back a snappy retort. Instead, her lower lip trembles, and her shoulders slump. She turns forlorn eyes in my direction. “You’re right. I’m sad and wrong. Love is for dummies.” She covers her face with both hands, drops right into my lap, and starts to cry.
I know she’s been going through a tough divorce, but I’ve never seen her anything other than energetic, snarky, or hyper focused at work. I don’t know what to do with an emotional crying Dina. So I do what I’d want if I was feeling bad enough to cry in front of someone. I wrap an arm around her and run a soothing hand over her back. She presses her face into my shoulder, and her hair tickles my cheek and my neck. It smells like fruit, and I want to bury my face in it.
She pulls away and saves me from embarrassing myself. “I’m sorry I cried all over you. I’m fine,” she says in a weepy, small voice.
I push her hair back from her face and smile. “It’s okay to cry. Even the strongest people need a soft place to land every once in a while.”
“It’s the alcohol, I had too much,” she protests.
“I didn’t have enough,” I confess with a wry smile.
She pats my chest as if to console me. “Well, I’m glad because if you did, who would carry me upstairs to bed?”
“This house doesn’t have stairs,” I remind her with a laugh.
“Then it’s your lucky day. This ass is as heavy as it looks.” She smiles and drops her head back onto my shoulder and closes her eyes.
“Are you asleep?” I ask after a full minute of listening to her deep breathing.
“No, I’m smelling you.”
My burst of surprised laughter jostles us both. “Smelling me?”
“Mmm-hmm, I knew you’d smell this good.”
“You’ve thought about the way I smell?” I ask, even though I shouldn’t.
“Oh, yeah, but it’s much better than my imagination.” She presses the cold tip of her nose into my neck and sniffs loudly. “I’m mad I waited so long to do this,” she says.
“How long have you been waiting?”
She lifts her head from my shirt. Her eyes are still wet but aren’t sad as she looks up into my face with a light in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. “Since the first time I saw you.”