THIRTY FOUR

Ryder

When I held her, she was soft and her breath was shaking. For once, her eyes weren't wide with surprise. Instead, they were closed and she was just waiting. We both knew I could get her right there. I played around with my fingers, imagining pushing her up against the stucco side of the wall and shoving that thin black fabric up around her waist. I'd pick her up, put my hand over her mouth, and slam into her.

I saw it all.

Even what happened next.

I was ashamed of myself, so I pushed her away before I could make my dream come true. "Stay away from me, Lexie," I growled, staying in the shadows even as she stumbled back out into the streetlights. "Either that, or I'll send you back to Ohio, where you belong."

Her eyes got smaller and brighter. When I said something mean, her mouth, which was swollen from my rough kiss earlier in the club, dropped open. She started to say something, but she must have changed her mind because all of a sudden she turned and ran down the street. I watched as she crossed the street and ran to the front door of the condo building, fists clenched. She turned around when she got to the lobby and saw light coming out of it. She had one hand on the door. She knew I was still standing in the shadows even though she couldn't see me. Looking at her.

I had to use all the self-control I'd learned over the years to keep from going after her. Step even further back into the shadows and wait for her to go inside.

I started walking to my car when she finally did. I felt like I was on fire with anger and lust. It was either a close call or a huge mistake, or both. I wanted to go back and finish it if I had made a mistake. Mess things up a lot. Why not, if it was just going to make me feel bad? But I still had a very, very small bit of sanity. I kept in mind that Lexie was off limits not just because she worked for my agency, but also because she was Samantha's best friend. If I fucked her, I would end up getting fucked. With the "Me Too" movement and my daughter, if this got out, I'd lose everything I've worked for.

I got a chill when I thought about how easy it could have been for it to get out. God bless those pretty girls in the bar. God only knows what I would have done to Lexie in public if their camera flash hadn't woken me up. With another worker from the Williams Agency in the building. When I thought about it, a sour pool formed in my stomach. It was still possible that Victoria had seen us. If she had, she would tell Brand Development about it. It would spread through the office like a virus. If that were true, my executive assistant would have to tell me about the rumor on Monday, which I wouldn't want to do.

I would soon find out.

I didn't sleep at all that night or the next two. I saw Lexie's face every time I closed my eyes. I held her and felt her. Her body curved into mine, and her lips parted on their own under mine. I didn't know if it was better or worse to know that if I said the word, I could have her whole body under mine.

I did something on the third night that I thought I'd never do. I logged in to The Williams Agency's Instagram account, went to Samantha's page, and found Lexie's account. I could see her profile picture, but it was private. She was leaning back on her arms and sitting on the east lawn of her college campus. Her legs were bare, and her denim cut-offs were so short that I could see the curve of her behind. She had a big smile on her face, her sunglasses were on top of her head, and her eyes were shining up at the photographer.

I wanted to be the one standing over Lexie so badly that it hurt. But not in a wide-open field. I wanted her in my bed, leaning back on her arms and smiling up at me as I stood over her. I would move her knees apart and pull those denim shorts off her hips, down her legs, and over her ankles.

I put my chair back and opened my fly. I hadn't had to take care of myself in a long time, but I had no other choice right now. Lexie wasn't available, and I didn't want a replacement. I looked at her picture and imagined that her seashell-pink nails were wrapped around my shaft and slowly moving up and down. I tried to picture what it would be like to have her lips on mine, with her blue eyes still wide and looking up at me.

For that picture, I had to go to the shower. I braced myself against the wall with one hand and finished myself off with the other. The hot spray hit my shoulders hard. I could feel Lexie's face on the back of my closed eyelids. In my mind, I took her everywhere and she kept asking for more.

That night, it took me a long time to fall asleep.

Monday morning, as the sky started to lighten, going from a deep indigo to a foggy blue-gray over the course of an hour, I felt like crap. My head hurt from not getting enough sleep, and I felt as tired as if I had been chasing Lexie all night on foot, not just in my head. I took another cold shower to wake up and get rid of the lingering desire that pulled at my groin when I thought about her. It woke me up, but didn't make her leave. Or make me feel better.

On my way to work, I stopped by Lyndon's office to find out what was going on with Kim. The private investigator she sent after me couldn't be found. I didn't know if she had given up or if she had hired someone who was less obvious. I was hoping it was the first one.

When I told Lyndon about it, he said, "It looks like she's still keeping them." "She even paid them some of what she owes them."

"What about some?"

He shook his head, and that made me feel better. I was sure that the PI hadn't been around last night to see me with Lexie. If he'd been happy, he would have rolled down the window to tell me so. He would have used a bright flash to take a picture and then laughed about it.

Lydon looked at me on his computer screen.

"You suddenly have something to hide?"

He tried to keep his tone neutral, but I knew what he was getting at. "If that's what you're asking, I'm not fucking the girl," I said in a straight line.

Lyndon said, "Yes, it was." "And good. Don't change it. The last thing you want is for Kim to see a photo of your daughter's best friend with your dick. You'll be hers."

I put my thumb and forefinger deep into my painfully dry tear ducts by pinching the bridge of my nose. "I'll be done with her in eight months."

"From a money point of view, yes," Lyndon cautiously agreed.

"I'll be having a party. A fucking funeral."

Lyndon's mouth turned into a small smile at the edges. "But she won't really be dead, bud. At Samantha's graduation, you'll still see her. Her wedding. You will have grandchildren together. Don't forget that before you start dancing on her grave."

My hope turned sour. I had a general idea that Kim would always be a part of my life, but I hadn't given it much thought. Not for the first time, I wished that she had been a terrible mother instead of just a mediocre one. One who would have taken the lump sum and flown to Bora Bora, never to think about her daughter again. The problem was that Kim wasn't a perfect mother, but Samantha loved her, so I was stuck with her forever. I told Lyndon, "You have to give me something to bury her with at least." "Who does she fuck? Who does she screw?"

Lyndon told what his PI had found out about her. It didn't surprise me at all. She was dating an investment banker, and she was suing a resort wear company because they told her they would give her a bonus every time she posted a picture of herself in their clothes that got more than a thousand likes.

"What the f*** is she now, a f***ing influencer?" I asked in disbelief. "Is she not too old?"

Lyndon said, "Thirty-nine is the new nineteen." This made me laugh out loud.

"That's the company's slogan for her campaign," he said dryly, turning his monitor so I could see the ad. I looked but wasn't interested. Kim looked as beautiful as ever, even if she had been airbrushed to death. I was glad, though, that Samantha took after my side of the family. It was easier for her to forget about her mother. At least when I didn't have to pay a private investigator to keep her hands off my money.

"What does she want with me if she's getting brand endorsements and investment bankers?" I looked at the name of the company and then asked. They were a middle-sized business on the way up. I thought they probably paid their influencers well.

"You know Kim. She likes nice things. Her investment banker won't buy the cow either. Not when he can get milk from other cows in town that are younger."

I looked up and rolled my eyes. "Please tell me she hasn't told Samantha that this jerk will be her stepfather.

Lyndon turned the monitor again, and I saw a picture of Kim, Samantha, and a cool-looking guy in a Saville Row suit walking out of a restaurant. He looked young, cool, and full of himself. I immediately disliked him.

My lip went up. "What's his age?"

The dark hairs on top of Lyndon's eyebrows started to rise gradually. "Older than Lexie and has more money than you do," she said.

"Fuck you." Because I was so upset, I got to my feet and marched over to the window. It makes no difference to me who Kim is having sexual relations with or how much money he has. It's impossible for her to feel content with it. I have to get the upper hand on her in some way.

"I'm trying."

I explained to her that it was not something that she could have created.

I watched as his hazy, wet reflection shook its head as it appeared in the window. “No. I am familiar with the process."

I gave myself a little crack on the knuckles and secretly wished that Lyndon's office had a punching bag. You think there might be something there?

There was a very lengthy pause in the conversation. When I turned around to see if he had heard me, I didn't bother to check. When it came to discussing sensitive information, Lyndon would always choose his words carefully, putting one in front of the other like tightrope walker Williams would do on a highwire. When pressed further, he admitted, "I don't know." "Kim had a habit of always having a few sinister tales to tell. However, at this point nothing is emerging from the shadows. Are you absolutely certain that there is nothing there?

After I shook my head, he didn't bother finishing the sentence. If Kim had made a significant error, which she almost always did, I would use that against her. But there was no way that I could put her in harm's way. If Samantha ever found out the truth, she would never forgive me.

And the list of things that I was thinking about that I could never forgive was getting too long already.