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Some fucking men can go fuck themselves. I’m not even determined to win this one over. I’m just determined to help Bradford as much as I can and if a by-product of that is making Alan happy, so be it.
When I rejoin Bradford and Hayden, Bradford looks at me like he’s assessing me for damage. “Everything good?”
I take the seat next to him again and nod. “I think Alan and I understand each other.”
“Right,” Hayden says, interrupting us when he stands. “I’m going home. I’ll draft this agreement and get it to you tomorrow. I’ll also draft the NDA for Cecelia with the points you just mentioned. And if you need me to ask Olivia to help with your PR, let me know.” He smiles at me and it’s such a warm and genuine gesture that I feel it deeply. “Congratulations on your marriage. I, for one, am glad to see my brother happy. Don’t let Alan get to you. He’ll come around when he realizes he has no other choice.” His smile turns into a grin. “Just don’t be late to any of the events he’s lined up. I’ve seen that guy in action and it isn’t pretty when someone’s late.”
“Oh, I can imagine. He just made it perfectly clear how detrimental to our relationship it will be if I’m late tomorrow.”
“Fuck,” Bradford curses and I turn in time to see his brows furrowing.
“It’s okay,” I reassure him. “My skin is thick. He doesn’t worry me.”
He still doesn’t appear convinced, even after Hayden leaves. “I’ll talk with Alan tomorrow. I won’t allow him to treat you like this.”
I place my hand on his arm. “Please don’t. I have to stand on my own two feet if I’m going to have any chance of gaining his respect.”
“He should respect you, period, Kristen.”
“I agree but let’s be honest here, men like Alan don’t respect women like they should. It’s bullshit but it’s all I have to work with. Let me do this my way.”
The look in his eyes tells me he’s not a fan of this approach but I also see that he’ll give me what I’ve asked for. This might be one of my favorite things a man has ever given me.
When Bradford takes my hand and says, “Let’s get you settled in,” I think about Alan again.You have no clue what Bradford is up against here. He’s right; I don’t. Not the full extent of it. I trust that Alan isn’t catastrophizing this. He is the best at what he does after all. He did say he’d fix it, and he did seem quite sure of that, but still, the unease sitting low in my stomach isn’t going away.
I can only hope that the best thing that has ever happened in my life doesn’t turn out to be something Bradford regrets.
33
Kristen
Bradford’s home is jaw-dropping. Occupying the top three floors of the tower, it has seven bedroom suites, eight bathrooms, a private ballroom, an observatory, a library, a gaming room, a media room, a professional-grade catering kitchen for the ballroom as well as a kitchen for daily use, a gym, and a magnificent terrace. Private elevators connect each floor, as does a grand spiral staircase that is a work of art.
The extravagant furnishings and decorating throughout have nothing on the view of Manhattan from all the rooms. After I follow Bradford into the primary suite that has a bedroom, two dressing rooms, two bathrooms, and a sitting room, I walk to the floor-to-ceiling windows. I take in the stunning city backdrop and can imagine how airy and bright it will be in here in the morning.
I turn and find him watching me intently. “This view. My God. I think I could live in this room and be happy.”
“Do you want to live here?”
I glance at the beauty surrounding me. My condo is gorgeous but it’s smaller than his. It also doesn’t have the same kind of view. However, those aren’t the things that make a home and I’m well aware of that. “I haven’t thought about it. Do you?”
“There’s a lot we’ll have to figure out but we don’t have to do it all straight away.”
He’s right. Most couples slowly bring their lives together. They get to know each other first. They build their boundaries before they get married. I imagine that marriage brings a new pulse to a relationship, but that pulse doesn’t usually involve the kind of figuring out that Bradford and I have ahead of us.
“I don’t do well with not knowing, Bradford.” I inhale a long breath. “Oh God, why did we drink so much and think it was a good idea to ask Elvis to put rings on our fingers?”
“Elvis didn’t put that ring on your finger. I did. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat, sober.”
He’s right, and I like that he’s reminded me of this fact.
“Okay, it’s time for you to start learning my small things. I take a long time to get ready every day. And when I say long, I meanlong. I’m rarely on time. And I don’t like being called out on that. In fact, I may do physical harm to you if you mention it. I’ve tried to change this about myself and I’m just not built that way, so it’ll be up to you to recalibrate your schedule to make allowances for it. And I’m at the point in my therapy where I now make no apologies for that.” I take a breath before continuing. “I really,reallylove strawberry jam. Clean sheets are important to me. As is having time every night to read. And if you ever make fun of the spicy romances I read, you will regret that. I love watching the same movies over and over. I love Valentine’s Day and you should spoil me on that day just as much as I will spoil you. Sunday mornings should be reserved for sleeping in, breakfast in bed, and reading. Oh, and anything you have in the kitchen that has sugar in it will have to go. That’s a non-negotiable for me. I can’t be trusted around sugar.”
His lips twitch. “But strawberry jam stays?”
My eyes widen. “God, no. Strawberry jam can never make its way into our home. Ever. If you do bring it here, your life will be hell for at least twenty-four hours and I really don’t think you’ll be sleeping in our bed with me that night.”
“If your non-negotiable is a ban on sugar, mine is that I won’t ever allow either of us to sleep in a different bed. I don’t care if you bring knives to bed with you, you’re sleeping with me.” The way he says this so fiercely, combined with the matching look in his eyes reaches low in my stomach.
