ELEMENTAL LOVE: A Second Chance Single Dad Romance Page 10

  He looked as though he was trying to stop himself from laughing at me, and instead raised an eyebrow at me and blinked a few times. “Are you sure there’s only water in that glass of yours?” he asked.

  I said nothing. Instead, I settled for glaring at him and pulling a face once he looked down at his papers again. He seemed to be concentrating very heavily on something, and he didn’t speak for several minutes. I sipped my water, which tasted wonderful after my sweltering walk through Central Park and finally, he placed the papers onto the table.

  “Why the fire theme for the Jose Perez exhibit?” he asked.

  I nearly spat out my water. “How do you know about that?” I asked. For the second time that day, I was utterly shocked, and this time it came at the hands of a man I disliked intensely. “It wasn’t a commissioned piece. It was done for a friend of mine.”

  “And yet it won a rather prestigious prize in Madrid,” he replied. He lifted the papers and showed me a clipping I immediately recognized. “From what I’ve read here, it was very well received.”

  “I didn’t know you spoke Spanish,” I said.

  “I don’t,” he replied. “I had someone translate it for me this morning. Now, tell me about the work for the exhibit.”

  So, feeling like I was sitting underneath a spotlight, I began to talk to Alex, and he began to listen.

  Chapter 16

  ________

  ALEX

  When I opened the door, I wasn’t prepared for how good Rachel would look. In her slim-fitting pantsuit and heels, she looked as though she was ready to walk down a catwalk, modeling the latest women’s business attire with confidence. It was a look that suited her very well, and once again, I found myself looking twice.

  I knew she wasn’t keen on the idea of fetching me water from across the room, but I wasn’t complaining as I watched her stride over to the refrigerator. Her cream pants hugged her curvaceous ass in the same way that the riding outfit had, and I found that I was staring again. What was it about her derriere that captivated me so?

  There was no doubt that Tom was only acting on natural male instinct when it came to Rachel, but it was simply one that I wouldn’t allow him to explore. Not now. Having Rachel come to the house when Tom was bound to be around was a bad way to start, and so I arranged to meet her downtown.

  Her attitude toward me was as cold as the ice in the glass of water she brought back to the desk, but she seemed to soften as soon as I mentioned the Jose Perez exhibit. One online search of her name in the context of interior design, and I could see that she’d been highly thought of in Madrid. That much was clear from the article translated to me by my accountant, Arthur.

  She was shocked that I’d done so much research on her, but when she began to talk, something in her demeanor changed.

  “Tell me about the exhibit,” I asked. “Why fire?”

  “Jose Perez was one of Madrid’s most celebrated matadors,” she said. “He was tall and rather broad-shouldered and he seemed an unlikely champion, but he was quick on his feet and he charmed the crowds like no other matador ever had.”

  Her eyes moved toward the window, where she gazed out as if reaching for a memory. “All photographs of him are from the turn of the twentieth century, so of course, they’re all in black and white. But it wouldn’t have been enough to put on an exhibition of colorless photographs and to expect people to feel the passion that he had. I read an interview he gave just before his death, and he spoke about fire.”

  She paused, and I said nothing, so she continued. “Perez said that people believed red aggravated bulls, but in reality, they’re color blind. It wouldn’t have made a difference if he waved a white cape, or a lime green one. The result would have been the same. He said that the red was symbolic. It meant fire to him and that with a red cape, he was lighting a match in the bull’s eyes. He saw the bull come alive, his anger and his passion burning so brightly that Perez knew if he wasn’t quicker than the bull, then he’d be dead. He had to be faster. Stronger. More cunning. Because the fire was coming, and one day, he’d get burned.”

  “And did he?” I asked.

  “Well, he was gored in the chest,” she said with an ironic grin. “He died almost instantly. He was only thirty-one, and Madrid declared a day of public mourning for his death.”

  “But none for the bulls he slaughtered?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I was asked to do the exhibit no matter what my thoughts on bullfighting were.”

  “And what are your thoughts on bullfighting?” I asked.

  “Why? Are you planning on having a bullring built in this place?”

  The raised eyebrow, the folded arms and the general sarcasm, all collectively came together to suddenly make me laugh. I could have kicked myself, but I couldn’t help but chuckle. Rachel seemed utterly unimpressed by this.

  “Are you mocking me?” she asked.

  “Not at all,” I assured her. “Really. And I was very impressed with the exhibit. I think you used the colors very tastefully. It’s the sort of thing I’d like to see in the designs that you’ll be doing for me.”

  “What makes you think that I’m the right designer for this project?” Rachel asked, leaning forward. She stared at me, her eyes inquisitive, untrusting.

  I wasn’t about to tell her that I desperately needed to keep her away from my brother. Instead, I sat back and matched her gaze. “I want to work with someone new,” I said. “Someone who hasn’t been stuck in the bland New York rut for the last five years, but has seen a little bit of the world and managed to get some life experience that I hope will translate into inspiration.”

  “Oh,” she said, and I took more than a little delight in the way her voice softened for a moment, and her demeanor relaxed for the slightest of seconds.

  “Plus, it doesn’t hurt to have a pretty face around the place.”

  And, there it was. The glower was back and Rachel puffed, incredulous.

  “And here’s me thinking that sexism and misogyny weren’t going to be factors in this project,” she said. “Especially when I heard your manager was a woman, after all.”

  I don’t know why, but I was enjoying getting under her skin, making her angry. It gave her a hell of a sexy edge, a sharp defiance that I was beginning to see more often, and I liked it every time it rose to the surface. Which wasn’t difficult; bubbling away at all times was a feistiness, a no-nonsense way of looking at life.

  And yet, there was a dreamy side, which I’d seen emerge when Rachel talked about her work with the Spanish exhibit. While she had her father’s green eyes and straight nose, she didn’t have his fair, straight hair. I’d never seen her mother, but it was clear that Rachel must have gotten her curly hair and olive skin from her. She must also have inherited her Italian fire, that undeniable expressive passion.

  Passion.

  As I pretended to read more about Rachel’s work while she continued to scowl at me from the other side of the desk, I thought about the last time I’d had passion in my life. Real passion for something other than a good deal or a new idea about to be launched into action.

  The kind of passion that came from being with a sexy woman. I couldn’t remember the last time. Since Amy passed away five years ago, dates with women had been few and far between and had usually been for the benefit of business deals, or at the very least, the prospect of them. Some of the deals developed; others didn’t. None of the dates amounted to anything.

  I used to tell myself it was because I wasn’t ready to love again, that I needed more time and I was satisfied with having only my son. But now, looking at Rachel, I wondered whether I wasn’t ready to take that step again. Not that I’d ever consider dating Rachel, of course. But I saw something in her that stirred me in a way I thought might have been lost to me forever.

  Thinking about her in such a way took me back to that night many years ago, in the heat of summer, when I’d held her to me and kissed her. Back then, she was so awkward and ungainly, innocent
and pure. Yet, even then, the defiant streak had been there, still forming like a butterfly’s wings curled tightly around its body as the rest of it formed in the chrysalis. And when I’d kissed her, simply to shut her up, I was more than a little surprised at my reaction.

  But that was another time, another century, and now this was purely business. I gave a cough and shuffled the papers before placing them on the table like a newscaster from the seventies.

  “I think we should maybe take a walk over to the site so you can get a feel for what I have in mind for the place,” I said.

  “Fine,” Rachel replied, and she downed the rest of her water. She picked up her purse and strode to the door. I locked the office and we made our way down the steps, neither of us speaking. When we got to the building around the corner, the foreman, Guy, hurried over.

  “Hello, Mister Maitland,” he said. “This is a nice surprise.”

  “Guy, I’d like you to meet Rachel Evans, our newest interior designer,” I said. The two of them shook hands. “Rachel’s come over to take a look at the place and maybe get a few ideas of where to go next.”

  He escorted us into the building and up the temporary stairs that had been built along with the scaffolding. While the tenants of the building were less than happy about the disturbance to their lives, they’d soon been placated by the promise of free lifetime access to the gym which would be situated on the top floor. We were only able to get up to the seventh floor; the rest was yet to be built, the frame of it stretching up into the sky, far above our heads.

  Guy found us both hard hats to wear, and Rachel walked ahead of me, taking in the size of the building, the height it would reach, and the layout of important structures that couldn’t be changed, such as the elevator locations and the supporting walls. She seemed lost in her own world and didn’t speak for a long time. I left her to it, watching her walk around, and for some reason, I was unable to take my eyes off her.

  Finally, she came back. “I’ve got a good idea of everything,” she said, with a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you for showing me around, Guy.”

  “Not a problem, Ma’am,” he replied, and I’d caught the way his eyes, too, had followed her around the room, occasionally drifting south of her waist, no doubt to take in the beautiful curve of her shapely body. I snapped him out of his reverie and he shook my hand hurriedly, a little flustered.

  Then we followed him back down the steps, handed back our hard hats and stepped out onto the street, making our way back to the office. But Rachel didn’t follow me. I stopped and turned around, frowning.

  “I’m going to get going,” she said. “I’d like to get started on some sketches.”

  “All right,” I said, feeling a little nudge of disappointment that our meeting had come to an end. “Thank you for coming. Can you get something to me within the next few days?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  And she turned to leave, but something made me call out to her. “Are you free next Friday?” I asked.

  She looked back at me while taking her purse from her shoulder and reaching for her cell phone. “I’m not sure,” she said. “Is that when you want to meet again?”

  “No, actually, I’d like you to continue to teach Noah how to ride,” I said, the words spilling from my mouth before I could stop them. “He was very comfortable with you the other day and I don’t want to have to go through the hassle of finding another riding instructor. You know how it is, finding good staff.”

  Once again, her jaw had set in an obstinate line at the reference to her being an employee, but she took a deep breath, clearly steeling herself before answering. I loved it.

  “If he’s happy to make it a weekend rather than a weekday, then I’m happy to give him another lesson,” she said. “He’s a good boy. I like him.”

  “Great,” I replied. “Next weekend it is. But I’ll see you before then, I’m sure.”

  The weekends worked well for me, too. It meant I’d be home, able to keep an eye on things. I couldn’t quite understand why I’d asked her, being so set on replacing her and not having her around the house again, and only just having found a way to stop her from being there. But I convinced myself that knowing how good she’d been with Noah and how happy he was to have her teach him, were the reasons that made me change my mind.

  I just had to make sure that Tom didn’t go anywhere near her.

  Chapter 17

  ________

  RACHEL

  I’d lost count of the number of times I’d called him an arrogant asshole. But that’s what he was. So full of himself, so completely convinced that everything in the world that had existed up until that point was there for him, to do his bidding, to make him happy.

  God, I disliked him. I hated his perfect hair, his blue eyes, the askew smile, the arrogant way he raised one eyebrow when there was something someone said that he wasn’t quite sure he believed. I hated his designer suits, the way he frowned as he read, and I loathed the way everyone fawned over him when they saw him. That foreman at the building? Guy? Shit, the man practically had mouth-to-ass the whole time we were there!

  But the strange thing was that as much as I loathed Alex Maitland in my mind, for some reason, that didn’t compute to the rest of my body. There was just something about the man. Like when I walked into his office and followed him over to his desk, I couldn’t help but notice his broad shoulders, his dark hair and the intoxicating smell that seemed to emanate from him. I remembered he’d smelled so good that night of our kiss in the garden, too, but now he had a new cologne and this one was even more delicious.

  It was like spiced wood and something else, something I couldn’t put my finger on; the only thing that came to mind was burned amber. I have no idea if burned amber even smells of anything, but that’s the only way I could describe it. A fiery glow, a heat that I could literally feel.

  When he stared at me, I wanted to stare him down and I tried my best to do so, but when I did, I caught my heart beating faster than usual, so much so that I was sure he’d be able to hear it. It was as though my body was trying to tell me something but I refused to listen. It was wrong! It had to be wrong. I had to trust what my head was saying and it was telling me to keep Alex as far away from my thoughts as possible. That much was clear.

  I liked his new building and the whole idea of what he planned to do with it. That part of New York had always held something exciting to me; Hell’s Kitchen had a history of gang fights, of turf warfare and mafia control. I could clearly imagine ghostly figures in Zoot suits dashing into the shadows or black Ford Model T speeding off into the darkness.

  But now, it was a different place. It was vibrant and buzzing, and alive, and yet the air still held the scent of gunfire and smoke, well, at least to me, thanks to my overactive imagination.

  Sitting at my desk back at the office, I began to draw some rough sketches. I had an idea about creating a theme of the roaring 20’s; the glamour and the glitz from almost a century ago, when the city was literally soaring upwards. The Empire State building, the Chrysler, and other skyscrapers were reaching into the clouds and letting everyone know that New York was sitting on top of the world.

  My pencil flew over the paper, and I forgot what time it was until Kate popped her head around the door, surprised to see I was still there. “It’s going on eight, Rachel,” she said. “I admire your dedication but surely you need to get home?”

  I looked up and blinked a few times. I couldn’t believe I’d sat there for so long. My fingers cramped from holding the pencil for hours, and my neck was sore from keeping it in a bent position for that amount of time.

  When Kate left, I stepped back, away from the drawing board, and looked at my work from a different perspective. I felt a little bud of growing excitement well up in my stomach and I was pleased with what I’d created. I was looking forward to showing Alex the designs.

  And, strangely, as I walked to the subway to catch the train back to Long Island, I realized that I was
n’t dreading seeing him, either. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t looking forward to it, exactly, but I wanted him to see the designs and like them. And I had a feeling he would. I had the feeling that I’d had a good idea and that he was going to agree.

  Why can’t he be more like Thomas? I thought. Thomas was so happy and cheerful, someone who loved life and grabbed onto it with both hands. I didn’t know who his new fiancée was, but I couldn’t help but feel more than a little frustrated that I was too late. I’d just missed the boat. Perhaps if I’d come home a few months, or even a few weeks earlier, I might have had a chance with Thomas.

  Of course, I’d stayed with Mathias much longer than I should have. But I could tell by the way Thomas had spoken to me in Alex’s office that he liked me. His eyes were bright, attentive, and he had a smile on his face the whole time we spoke. When Alexander had come over and interrupted us, Thomas was clearly annoyed, and I liked that. With a little more time together, we might have been able to get to know each other a bit better. After all, I wasn’t working for the estate. I wasn’t an employee.

  But I knew how much it hurt to have a partner whose head had been turned by another woman, and I couldn’t have done something so mean to Sienna. Especially, not after what Mathias had done to me.

  God, it was all so complicated. And now I was stuck with the wrong brother, the single, eligible, older brother. The one who smelled like a dream, but had the personality of a Kanye West song.

  I groaned with frustration and knocked my head against the window of the train. Why couldn’t life just be simple, for Christ’s sake?

  Chapter 18

  ________

  ALEX

  Things were developing nicely in Hawaii, and I took the jet down there for a few days, meeting Raymond on Halii-Kai. The island was still rather primitive, with very few amenities, but there was a nice enough hotel by the ocean, so I stayed there. Raymond and I met in a rented office in the small town and ironed out lots of our differences over long discussions.