After cradling his head in his hands, he mutters, “This shit isn’t right. I didn’t keep my dreams on the backburner the past nine years to give them up now, Isaac. I’m one step away from greatness.”
“There are more than two bases. You’ve still got a few steps to take before you reach her treasure trove.”
Cormack glares at me. It has no steam whatsoever. “I was talking about my business aspirations, you ass!” As his brows stitch, his eyes bounce between mine. “You know who she is, don’t you?” He didn’t ask his question as my friend. He asked it as my business associate.
I prop my ass on the edge of his desk before shaking my head, truly unsure where he’s leading our conversation.
“She’s a baker.”
“Duh, captain-fucking-obvious,” I push out with a chuckle. I was unaware my attempt to ease the burden of his guilt stamped ‘idiot’ across my forehead. I’m not known for my playfulness, but I was willing to give it a shot for him. I’ll reconsider my objective next time. I’d rather be seen as a ruthless businessman than a pushover.
My chuckle switches to a groan when Cormack adds, “Of a relic bakery smack dab in the middle of Ravenshoe.”
“Oh.” There’s only one bakery Cormack has referred to as ‘relic’ the past six months. It’s the same one our joint business adventure has been campaigning to take down.
“Yeah.Oh.” His last word is delivered as painfully as mine. Cormack has been buying up property around Ravenshoe for the past several years like it’s going cheap. He wants to build a massive recording studio in the heart of Ravenshoe. With his plans conjured many years ago, I forgot his delay centers around a handful of owners refusing to sell. All their stores surround Harlow’s bakery, so it’s fair to assume her bakery is in the firing zone.
After unbuttoning my suit jacket, I take a seat across from Cormack. His fascination with Harlow not only has the chance of squandering his dream. It could see mine circling the toilet as well. My goals just aren’t business-related.
“Is she a friend of Isabelle’s?” I’ve seen Harlow and Isabelle interact once before, but I couldn’t tell if their relationship was solely professional or not. When Cormack shrugs, truly unsure, I fight to keep my curse word inside of my head. “I don’t need more conflict. I’ve got enough issues already.”
I realize I said my last comment out loud when Cormack nods. He doesn’t need me to expand on my reply, though, as he’s feeling the same drowning-on-land sensation that’s hitting me. If Isabelle finds out just how far we’ve gone to secure the businesses in the location Cormack wants to build his musical empire, her comments two weeks ago will hold credit. Everything we’ve done is above board, but when you see how much money we let circle the drain to do it, it could be seen as fraudulent by the wrong set of eyes.
After a couple of minutes of silence, the business side of my head switches on. “What do you want me to do? The acquisitions team can pursue other locations. Hunter could run a background check on Harlow. You name it, I’ll have it done.”
Cormack takes a moment to contemplate. It’s a long-drawn-out process that only grows more frustrating when he says, “Keep me away from Harlow Murphy.”
Twenty minutes ago, I would have agreed to his request as if he had asked me to fund his latest business adventure. He’s never made an unsound business decision, so I’m confident my backing would be highly successful. Now, I’m certain we’re set to fail. Keeping him away from the one thing he craves more than air will hurt him in a way I’m not willing to do. I’ve experienced death, betrayal, remorse, and rejection, but by far the most painful thing I’ve endured is denying my heart its opportunity to speak. It’s been burned, scarred, and broken just as much as my body, yet over the past six weeks, it has begged for a chance to show it functions perfectly fine.
A lessor man would be scared about the prospect. For the first time in my life, I’m unsure which side of the fence I belong. Denying the truth doesn’t change the facts, but hiding from them won’t fix them either. Fate decides who enters your life, actions keep them there, but what happens when you realize you no longer control either of those things?
I’m in charge of all aspects of my life, but there’s one thing I cannot control—a brown-eyed, dark-haired beauty who challenges me even from a distance.
I love a good challenge. Almost always when I think I’ll fail, I achieve my greatest accomplishment, but I can’t help but wonder if the chips will fall in my favorthis time around.
I can’t tell if it’s relief or panic that crosses Cormack’s face when I counterbid, “Only if you promise to do the same for me with Isabelle.”
I’ve always believedworking through your problems makes youstronger, but this is one fight I don’t see me winning, and although we’re taught as children that winning isn’t everything, it’s obvious thequoters never gambled on something as substantial as destined souls that are worlds apart.
If they had, they might have bowed out as cowardly as I am.
12
Four weeks later…
While twirling amber-colored liquid around in a crystal glass, I drag my eyes down Cormack’s fidgeting frame for the second time tonight. He’s been reticent this evening, more tense and sweaty. I’ve only seen him this unhinged once before. It was when he handed over a wad of cash to the emcee the first time I fought in an underground college fight circuit. He was convinced he was throwing money out the window. I proved otherwise within ten minutes.
Eager to spot the source of his distraction, I scan the packed restaurant floor. Every year, on this exact day, my fluctuating moods are usually the ones being scrutinized. Tonight, it’s obvious Cormack’s mind is far from my grievances. He has barely uttered Harlow’s name since the incident in his conference room four weeks ago, but despite that, I’m confident she is on his mind as often as Isabelle is mine.
There’s a distraction only beautiful women can summon. More times than not, if used in the right manner, it’s beneficial. Men are more ruthless, cutthroat, and merciless when they’re striving to prove their worth. Part of tonight’s weekly meet-up is in celebration of our empires’ highly successful third quarter. Globally, times are tough, but since we buried ourselves in our work, hopeful it would keep our focus off matters beyond our control, our businesses saw substantial growth.
Up until earlier this week, our plans to rule the world were being implemented without a single hiccup, then something changed for Cormack. He isn’t as cunning as he was at the start of the month. I wouldn’t necessarily say that’s a bad thing. I’ve always believed every breath you take should count since you’re not guaranteed a specified number, but his distraction tonight is off-putting. If my intuition is anything to go by, I’m confident it centers around a woman.
Every self-made millionaire has a backstory based on the one who got away. For years, I believed Ophelia’s death fueled my desire to amass the capital I’d need a hundred lifetimes to spend. After watching Cormack’s interaction with Harlow last month, I reconsidered my objectives. I’m twenty-seven years old. My life is far from over. I just need to stop letting the guilts of my past direct the course of my future.
Like many things in life, it’s easier said than done.Especially today.When I fail to find any signs of Cormack’s distraction in the restaurant’s dining area, I down the remainder of my whiskey before signaling for the waiter to bring me another. While she scrambles to answer my every whim with the hope it will see her gifted an invitation into my bed, I shift my focus back to Cormack. I’m about to ask what’s caused the bee in his bonnet, but before I can, he slips out of the booth we’re utilizing while waiting for our table to be prepared, declaring he needs to use the restroom.
My curiosity peaks when he heads toward the front of the restaurant. The restrooms are in the back. Cormack is aware of this. Not only do we dine here every week, but his architect also assisted with the floorplan when I had the central hub gutted within a month of purchasing it. I told the pompous manager who kicked us out when we were celebrating the first million-dollar tally in my bank account that I’d fire him the instant I purchased this restaurant. I did that very thing only months later. It’s safe to say my thirst for revenge galvanized that day.
