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I wracked my brain and then realized what she was talking about.
“Are we talking about when I use the word ‘fuck’, either in the context of saying I wanna fuck you, or when I’m telling you how fucking sexy you are?”
“Yes. Exactly that.”
“Does it bother you?”
“No, not at all. I like it. But I’ve never heard you swear at anyone, no matter how provoked you are.”
“I swear all the time, baby. It’s just that I try not to do it in front of you… except when I’m inside you, or even thinking about being inside you. In situations like that, it seems I can’t help myself. I have to say what I’m thinking… to voice my true feelings.”
I think I’ve done that since the beginning… maybe not since we first met, but certainly since we got together. I’ve never held back on telling her anything, and that’s why I’m going to ask her to move in with me. My plan is to do it tonight when we get to the house, and if she says yes – and I hope to God she does – maybe we’ll come back early on Sunday and start moving her things over to my place.
I know people might say I’m rushing things, but she’s practically living with me anyway, and I love her so much, I just want to make it official.
I take a breath and open my mail app, deleting the first few messages, before I finally come across one worth reading. It’s from Keira, and I smile. I was going to chase her up, to see where her invoice was, but it seems she’s sent it in at last.
It’s no more or less expensive than I’d expected, and I click on the link to pay it, sending her a quick reply to thank her for all her help. I’ve just returned to going through my interminable list of messages when I hear a man outside, raising his voice.
“You’re fucking sorry?”
“There’s no need to speak to me like that.” Livia sounds scared and I’m on my feet in an instant, rushing for the door.
The man standing by Livia’s desk is a little under six feet tall, with graying hair and a tailored suit. He’s glaring right at her.
“Oh? Really? Do you have any idea what I’ve…”
I don’t know who this guy is, but I’m done with hearing his voice. “What’s going on here?”
Livia startles, turning to face me, as does the stranger, who tilts his head slightly, like he’s confused.
“Hunter, I…” Livia says and a slow smile appears on the man’s face.
“So you’re Hunter Bennet?” he says, interrupting her. He studies me, like he knows me, which I’m damn sure he doesn’t. “You’re all grown up. Who’d have thought…?” He moves closer, his gaze making me feel uncomfortable, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. Do I know him? There’s something about his voice… “I’m an old friend of your dad’s,” he says, although I’m still none the wiser. He could be anybody. “I’m in the city for a few days, and thought I’d drop by and see him.”
“But Dad’s dead. He’s been dead for over a year.” Surely if he was a friend of Dad’s he’d have heard by now.
“Hmm… your secretary just told me.” I want to correct him, and tell him Livia isn’t my secretary, but he doesn’t give me the chance. “It’s such a shame,” he says, smirking. “I’d been hoping to show him what genuine success looks like.”
He doesn’t sound like a friend of my dad’s anymore. He sounds more like an enemy, and I stand up, using my height against him. “Who are you? What do you want here?”
“I just told you what I want,” the man says with a smile. “I came to show my old friend Theodore what a proper businessman looks like. As for who I am…” He tilts his head just slightly while shrugging his shoulders. “I guess I can’t blame you for not remembering. You were just a kid when I left town.” What’s he talking about? Why doesn’t he just say his name? “I’m Ken Bevan.”
My brain freezes, along with my blood, and the room spins. I can’t think… I can’t take it in. I’m not worried that this is Ken Bevan, or that he nearly ruined my father and our family… or that he’s standing in front of me, holding out his hand like he expects me to shake it. What I’m worried about… the thought that’s rushing through my mind… is that I’ve just remembered where I heard Livia’s name before.
Ken Bevan’s daughter was called that.
I recollect, he used to tell a story about his grandfather falling for an Italian girl during World War Two, and how he came home afterwards, but couldn’t live without her, so he went back to Italy to find her. Her name was Livia, and Ken’s wife liked it… or maybe she liked the romance of the story. I don’t know, but either way, they named their daughter after her. I glance up to see she’s staring at her desk. She’s embarrassed… and rightly so. She’s known of the connection all along. Hell, she probably got this job on purpose, and then seduced me, intending to get some kind of revenge.
And it worked, didn’t it?
I lower my head for a moment, unable to focus. The pain in my chest is building, crushing the air from my lungs. I can’t let it, though. I have to deal with this…
I take a breath, struggling to keep it together.
When I look up again, Ken Bevan opens his mouth, but I push him aside, walking straight up to Livia, my anger getting the better of me.
“How could you?” I yell, and she stumbles backwards. I can see the panic in her eyes, but I know why it’s there now. She’s not fooling me anymore.
