More Than Want You

I clear my throat, still grasping for the right words. “I realize everything I said to you the other morning was an insult. I never meant it that way.”

“Maybe you believe that. But it wasn’t just about the way you treated me. I understood clearly in that moment how you see me.”

“No, you don’t. You’re not cheap. You assumed that. I certainly never said it.”

“Maybe you don’t think I’m cheap in the hooker sense, but you view me as disposable. I hadn’t had sex with anyone in about a year. I only share bodies with someone I think I can share souls with, too. You were a mistake. I can’t be with someone who wants revenge more than they want me.”

Her words make me feel like a douchebag. “That’s not how it is.”

Well, not entirely.

She doesn’t respond as the waiter sets her sparkling water in front of her. Instead, she merely raises a skeptical brow at me.

I sip my wine. I need to regroup. Come up with something. Appeal to her heart. Simply being near me isn’t getting the job done.

I stare into my glass. I need to explain somehow, give her a damn good reason for her to both like me again and help me. The only rationale I can think of is the truth. “Remember I told you that my brother slept with my ex-girlfriend? That my assistant, Britta, is like a sister to me?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s because she should have been. My sister, that is.” I tap the table nervously. “I really thought she and Griff were going to make it…”

“Get married?”

I nod. “He’d started talking about it. He loved her—or I thought he did. They seemed perfect together, but the fucking bastard crushed us all and never looked back.”

Her face softens. I’m not looking for sympathy but it feels good to know she’s listening. “What happened?”

I blow out a breath. Now it gets hard. “Three years ago, I picked up an overseas client. Royalty. He bound me to absolute secrecy because he wanted someplace lavish to stash his favorite mistress, and the truth would be a terrible scandal. Legally, I couldn’t tell anyone, not even my own brother. Despite the fact Griff hadn’t assisted with this client, I had every intention of closing the deal and depositing the money in our joint account, like I always did. We shared everything we earned fifty-fifty.”

“Makes sense. Why would he get angry about that?”

“Just before signing, Griff found out I was working this side deal and assumed I was trying to screw him out of both the glory and half the commission on the twenty-million-dollar property. He accused me of trying to undercut him and the business we’d spent six years building together. No matter how much I swore it wasn’t true, he didn’t believe me. He said that because Tiffanii and I were in the throes of splitting up that I’d let her screw with my head.”

“So he left the business. You told me,” she says. “That upset you, so you want revenge, right?”

“Sure, I’d love to repay that bastard, but if all I wanted was revenge, having you ‘distract’ him isn’t personal enough. If I merely wanted to make him suffer, I’d punch him in the face and hustle all his business out from under him. But it’s not that simple. There’s more.”

“I’m listening.”

“By the time the estate closed, Griff had already taken his half of the money from our joint account and moved out of our office—all without saying a word to me. In less than twenty-four hours, he hung out his own shingle and started taking listings. Britta was crushed he didn’t take her with him—or even let her know. They’d been dating for a year. But her nightmare got so much worse when Griff e-mailed me to say that he wanted me to know how being stabbed in the back felt, so he fucked my ex. Repeatedly. He even sent pictures. Wasn’t that thoughtful? Of course, he knew my assistant would read the message first…” I frown. “Britta had just learned she was pregnant.”

I watch Keeley’s soft lips fall open. She covers her heart with her palm. “Oh, my gosh… She must have been devastated.”

“Utterly. But she’s a fighter. She’s come back and has been raising my nephew alone. I make sure she and Jamie have everything they need financially. I visit the little guy and play with him when I can.” But I’m keenly aware that I’m not daddy material. I’m too much like my own father for that. “To this day, Griff has never acknowledged his son and has never given any indication that he cares.”

The waiter comes by with hot plates and sets them down. He tries to break the tension by engaging in small talk that makes me gnash my teeth. Finally, I growl at him until he gets the message.

When he slinks away, Keeley blows out a breath. “I don’t blame you for feeling as if your brother has behaved like an absolute bastard. That’s a lot to overcome. I’m sorry for you, for Britta, for your nephew. I hope karma gives Griff exactly what he deserves. But, Maxon, if you repay anger with vengeance—no matter how good the reason—what do you think happens next? It becomes hate. Hate is awfully hard to come back from. He’s your family. This festering fury isn’t helping either of you. Maybe you should just call him, clear the air, and—”

“Fuck that. He walked out on me.” I realize I yelled at her and I feel like an asshole. “Sorry. I know you’re trying to help. If Griff had shown one iota of remorse, if he’d given us any indication that he missed Britta, wanted his son, or gave a damn about his only brother, I might be willing to let this go. Sometimes I miss him and the closeness we used to share like hell. But he left. He has to be the one to come back.”

“Is pride more important than family?”

I curl my fingers around the arms of the chair. If I don’t, I’m pretty sure I’ll hop to my feet like a fidiot and say something I’ll regret. “You have a knack for asking the one question designed to crawl under my skin.”

“No, Maxon. I ask you the question designed to make you think.”

It’s working. And I’m annoyed. Though I shut my mouth before I say anything else. She has a point, and I need to consider it. I take a bite of pasta. It’s decent. The wine is better, and it’s way more likely to improve my temper.

“He hurt everyone who cared about him,” I finally say.