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I take a seat on the sofa he gestured toward.
He flicks a button on his desk, and the windows of his office shade to keep prying eyes from looking inside. I frown, but he ignores me, moving toward the drink cart and pouring us a sizable whiskey each.
“Was that necessary?” I take the drink with a smile of thanks, pointing toward the now opaque glass. “It looks highly inappropriate.”
He scoffs. “Oh, dear stepmother, whatever will we do with their mindless gossip?”
“I will throw this drink in your face.”
He flicks the button of his suit jacket as he sits across from me. “Be my guest. You should be warned, though. If you ruin my suit, I’ll send you the invoice. I had this handmade in Italy.”
“I’ll add it to your allowance.”
His thick barrel of laughter echoes through his office, and I smile.
“How is the foot?” he asks after his laughter settles.
I twist my ankle one way and then the other. “Comfortable enough to walk on. Not recovered enough for high heels.”
He tsks. “Oh no.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“How are you finding being involved in The Quest again?”
A smirk tickles the side of my mouth. “It feels good to be back out there. I was worried with Charles gone that maybe it would feel different and that I wouldn’t enjoy it as much.”
While not a billion-dollar corporation, The Quest generates sufficient income for it to remain fruitful enough for CJ to keep. It was a big fear of mine after Charles died that The Quest would die with him. But I shouldn’t have been worried. I know my late husband’s eldest son enough to know he’ll nurture and expand anything where money is to be made. The small hunt that Charles created only grows each year. The world is opening themselves up to their sexual preferences. Kinks are no longer shameful but celebrated, and The Quest is a testament to that.
He considers me for only a second before asking, “It felt the same?”
I lower my voice, afraid I’ll offend him. “Better. I don’t know. It was as though it was all for me and no one else.”
Warmth spreads into his face, and while his lips don’t smile, I can see the gesture in the pull of his eyes.
I clear my throat and avert my eyes. “The man who has been with me in the forest since I returned. The one who requested me personally. He’s new?”
“Do you say that because he did something wrong? Did he touch you?” He shifts forward in his chair, his voice taking on a harder edge.
“God no,” I reply quickly. “Nothing like that.”
“You would tell me if he did or said anything untoward? You know we don’t tolerate that behavior.”
I nod vehemently. “Apart from carrying me up to the estate because of my ankle, he was the perfect hunter.”
With the exception of talking to me about how it would feel to have me sit on his face.
“Good.” He nods once, sitting back in his chair.
We drink quietly, and I try not to let my nerves overtake me. I’ve never been so torn in a situation that was not my doing. I know I could make it all go away, but I wasn’t lying to Salvatore when I told him I wanted to keep my promise to Charles.
Even now, as I sit across from CJ, at thirty years of age, I wonder if he realizes he’s throwing the best years of his life away for a job that will never offer him happiness.
He travels the world, but only when work dictates. His trips are quick. He doesn’t take the time to explore the countries and cities he visits. He does what his position requires, and then he comes home.
He doesn’t date. I’m sure he has women available to him whenever he wants. You don’t look like CJ and go without, but he doesn’tsharehis life with anyone. Grace has been in love with him for at least three years, but he’s so oblivious to the world around him that I’m not sure he even remembers her name.
He laughs but doesn’t do so freely.
