Page 5 of Just a Little Tempted

Both of my brothers were older, already deep into building their careers. Miles was on the other side of the country back then, playing for a team in New Mexico, so the role of caretaker had fallen to me.

I didn’t regret it. Not for a second. Mom was healthy now, and that was worth more than any degree. But the sacrifice still echoed through my life in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

“Don’t worry about me,” I said, forcing a brightness into my voice. “I’ll keep looking. Worst case, I’ll be flipping burgers at McDonald’s.”

Tense laughter rippled through the room. I joined in, even though I wasn’t entirely sure I was joking.

CHAPTER THREE

Simon

Ididn’t workon Saturday. After Liam’s pointed conversation about my assistant situation a few days ago, I was determined to prove—to myself at least—that I had everything under control. Even without Sarah.

Instead, I spent the entire day pacing my apartment, mentally cycling through all the work piling up on my desk. Emails I should be answering. Reports I should be reviewing. Calls I should be returning. All the work that wasn’t getting done because I was only one person and it was too much for me to keep up with.

Maybe Liam had a point. I didn’t like admitting that, but I was man enough to acknowledge when I was wrong. At least privately. I wasn’t about to actuallytellLiam he was right. Didn’t want my brother getting too cocky.

It was early evening when a knock sounded at my door.

“Come in,” I called from the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers from the refrigerator as my good friend Kurt Seager walked in. He had a six-pack tucked under his arm, and I took it from him as I handed over one of the cold bottles I’d just retrieved for the two of us.

“You were almost late,” I said as we moved into the living room, where pre-game analysis had been droning on for the past hour. Kurt’s brother, Miles, played hockey for the New York Lynx, and I was lucky enough to attend home games with Kurt fairly regularly. But tonight’s game was in Virginia, which meantwe’d be watching on my flat screen with cold beers and pizza on the way.

“I didn’t realize you were watching the clock.” Kurt twisted the cap off his beer, his tone dry. “Were you worried I was going to stand you up?”

I punched him in the shoulder, nearly making him spill his drink. Kurt was one of my oldest friends, and I was used to his sense of humor.

“I wasn’t worried.” I settled onto one end of the couch while he claimed the other. “I just figured you were busy with some woman again.”

Kurt groaned. “That wasone time. And it was like three years ago. I don’t pick up women like I used to.”

“Getting too old to be a player?”

This timehepunchedme.

“What about you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t seen you with a woman in a while. You take a vow of celibacy or what?”

I chuckled, then took a long pull from my beer. “I’m busy. I spend too much time at work to get serious with anyone.”

Not that I was living like a monk. When I needed to blow off steam, finding a willing partner was never a problem. The women I ended up with were usually from the same circles I’d grown up in—socialites who recognized the Powers name and everything that came with it. They weren’t interested in me, not really. They were interested in the family money, the connections, the lifestyle. And honestly? That suited me fine. I didn’t have time for anything real. Didn’t have the bandwidth for emotional entanglements or the complications that came with them. Casual and brief worked for everyone involved. No expectations. No disappointments.

The game started, and conversation dropped away as we focused on the players. The first period was intense—Miles was having a hell of a night—and when the pizza arrived, wedemolished a large supreme between us while working through a few more beers.

When the period ended and commercials flooded the screen, one of the first ads was for an athletic wear company. Sleek. Modern. Exactly the kind of brand we’d tried to build eight years ago.

My jaw tightened at the unexpected reminder. I glanced at Kurt, but he was typing away on his phone, seemingly oblivious. We never talked about the company. For my part, even thinking about it felt like pressing on a bruise that never fully healed. My first real failure. The first business I’d really poured my heart into, only to watch it crumble because I’d trusted the wrong person.

“You know, I saw Chuck a couple of weeks ago,” Kurt said suddenly, confirming that I wasn’t the only one with the past on his mind.

Chuck had been our third partner in that venture—older, more experienced, the one we’d trusted to handle production while Kurt and I focused on marketing and growth. We hadn’t stayed friends after everything fell apart.

“He was at an art gallery opening,” Kurt went on. “Hanging around some artist with his tongue practically dragging on the floor behind him.”

I would’ve laughed at the image if thoughts of Chuck didn’t make my blood pressure spike. “Did you talk to him?”

Kurt scoffed. “Hell no. I’ve got nothing to say to that dick.”

I shook my head slowly, the old anger stirring in my chest. “I still can’t believe what he did to us. To the company.” My voice dropped, rough with something I didn’t want to examine too closely. “I can’t believe I trusted him.”