One With You Page 3

  When it was too good to be true, how could it possibly be real?

  I sympathized with Trey, too, and if he called it quits, I’d respect that decision. But he was the best thing to happen to Cary in a long time. I was going to be extremely bummed if they didn’t make it. What did he say?

  I’ll tell u when I see u.

  Cary! That’s cruel.

  It took him until I was walking through the lobby turnstiles to reply. Yeah, tell me about it.

  My heart sank, because there was no way to interpret that as good news. Stepping aside to allow others to pass me, I typed back, I love you madly, Cary Taylor.

  Love u 2, baby girl.

  “Eva!”

  My mother crossed the space between us on delicately heeled sandals, a woman impossible to miss even amid the lunchtime crush of people heading in and out of the Crossfire. As petite as she was, Monica Stanton should’ve been lost in the sea of suits, but she drew too much attention for that to ever happen.

  Charisma. Sensuality. Fragility. It was the bombshell combination that made Marilyn Monroe a star, and it exemplified my mother. Dressed in a navy blue sleeveless jumpsuit, Monica Stanton looked younger than her years and more confident than I knew her to be. The Cartier panthers hugging her throat and wrist told the observant she was expensive.

  She came straight to me and wrapped me in a hug that took me by surprise.

  “Mom.”

  “Are you okay?” Pulling back, she studied my face.

  “What? Yes. Why?”

  “Your father called.”

  “Oh.” I looked at her warily. “He didn’t take the news well.”

  “No, he didn’t.” As she linked her arm with mine, we headed out. “But he’s dealing with it. He wasn’t quite ready to let you go.”

  “Because I remind him of you.” To my father, my mom was the one who got away. He still loved her, even after more than two decades apart.

  “Nonsense, Eva. There’s a resemblance, but you’re much more interesting.”

  That startled a laugh from me. “Gideon says I’m interesting.”

  She smiled brightly, making the man passing her stumble over his own feet. “Of course. He’s a connoisseur of women. As gorgeous as you are, it would take more than beauty to get him to marry you.”

  Slowing to a halt by the revolving doors, I let my mother go out first. A blast of muggy heat hit me when I joined her on the sidewalk, bringing an instant mist of perspiration to my skin. There were times when I doubted I’d ever get used to the humidity, but I considered it one of the costs of living in the city I loved so much. Spring had been beautiful and I knew fall would be, too. The perfect time of year to renew my vows with the man who owned me heart and soul.

  I was thanking God for air-conditioning when I spotted Stanton’s head of security waiting by a black car at the curb.

  Benjamin Clancy greeted me with an easy, confident nod. His demeanor was so business-as-usual, while I felt such gratitude for him it was hard to restrain myself from grabbing and kissing him.

  Gideon had killed Nathan to protect me. Clancy had made sure Gideon would never pay for it.

  “Hey, you,” I said to him, seeing my smile reflected in his mirrored aviator shades.

  “Eva. It’s good to see you.”

  “I was just thinking the same about you.”

  He didn’t smile outwardly; it wasn’t his way. But I could feel it nonetheless.

  My mom slid in first, and then I joined her in the backseat. Before Clancy even rounded the trunk of the car, she was shifting to face me and reaching for my hand. “Don’t worry about your father. He’s got that quick Latin temper, but it never lasts long. All he really wants is to make sure you’re happy.”

  I squeezed her fingers gently. “I know. But I really, really want Dad and Gideon to get along.”

  “They’re two very headstrong men, honey. They’re going to clash occasionally.”

  She wasn’t wrong. I wanted to dream about the two of them hanging out the way guys did, bonding over sports or cars, with all the playful ribbing and backslapping that usually accompanied that sort of thing. But I had to work with reality, whatever that turned out to be.

  “You’re right,” I conceded. “They’re both big boys. They’ll figure it out.” Hopefully.

  “Of course they will.”

  With a sigh, I glanced out the window. “I think I’ve come up with a solution for Corinne Giroux.”

  There was a pause. “Eva, you have got to put that woman out of your mind. By giving her any thought at all, you’re giving her power she doesn’t deserve.”

  “We allowed her to become a problem by being so secretive.” I looked back at my mother. “The world has a tremendous appetite for all things Gideon. He’s gorgeous, rich, sexy, and brilliant. People want to know everything about him, but he’s guarded his privacy to such an extreme degree that they know next to nothing. That’s given Corinne this opening to write her biography about her time with Gideon.”

  She gave me a wary look. “What are you thinking?”

  Digging into my bag, I pulled out a small tablet. “We need more of this.”

  I flipped the screen around, showing her the image of Gideon and me that had been taken just hours before as we’d stood in front of the Crossfire. The manner in which he gripped me by the nape was both tender and possessive, while the way my face tilted up to him revealed my love and adoration. It made my stomach turn to see such a private moment spread out for the world to ogle, but I had to get over it. I had to give them more.

  “Gideon and I need to stop hiding,” I explained. “We need to be seen. We spend too much time shut in. The public wants the billionaire playboy who’s finally becoming Prince Charming. They want fairy tales, Mom, and happy endings. I need to give people the story they want and by doing so, I’m going to make Corinne and her book look pathetic.”

  My mother’s shoulders went back. “That’s a horrible idea.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “It’s terrible, Eva! You don’t trade hard-earned privacy for anything. If you feed that public hunger, it will just get larger. For God’s sake, you don’t want to become a tabloid fixture!”

  My jaw set. “It won’t play out that way.”

  “Why would you risk it?” Her voice rose and became shrill. “Because of Corinne Giroux? Her book will come and go in the blink of an eye, but you’ll never get rid of the attention once you invite it!”

  “I don’t get you. There’s no way to be married to Gideon and not get attention! I might as well take control and set the stage myself.”

  “There’s a difference between being prominent and being a TMZ headline!”

  I growled inwardly. “I think you’re taking the drama to the extreme.”

  She shook her head. “I’m telling you, this is the wrong way to handle the situation. Have you discussed this with Gideon? I can’t see him agreeing to this.”

  I stared at her, truly startled by her response. I’d thought she would be all for it, considering how she felt about marrying well and what that entailed.

  That was when I saw the fear tightening her mouth and shadowing her eyes.

  “Mom.” I softened my voice, mentally kicking myself for not putting it together sooner. “We don’t have to worry about Nathan anymore.”

  She returned my stare. “No,” she agreed, not the least bit soothed. “But having everything you’ve done … everything you’ve said or decided dissected for the entertainment of the world could be its own nightmare.”

  “I’m not going to allow other people in the world to dictate how I and my marriage are perceived!” I was tired of feeling like a … victim. I wanted to be the one to go on the offensive.

  “Eva, you’re not—”

  “Either give me an alternative that doesn’t involve sitting around doing nothing or drop the subject, Mom.” I turned my head away. “We’re not going to agree and I’m not changing my mind without a different game plan on t
he table.”

  She made a frustrated noise, then fell silent.

  My fingers flexed with the need to text Gideon and vent. He had once told me I would excel at crisis management. He’d suggested I lend my talents to Cross Industries as a fixer.

  Why not start with something more intimate and important instead?

  2

  “More flowers?” Arash Madani drawled as he strolled into my office through the open glass double doors.

  My lead attorney walked over to where Eva’s white roses decorated the main seating area. I’d had them placed on the coffee table in my direct line of sight. There, they had been successfully drawing my attention away from the stock tickers streaming on the wall of flat screens behind them.

  The card that accompanied the flowers sat on the smoked glass of my desk and I fingered it, rereading the words for the hundredth time.

  Arash pulled a rose out and lifted it to his nose. “What’s the secret to getting sent some of these?”

  I sat back, absently noting that his emerald-hued tie matched the jeweled decanters decorating the bar. Until his arrival, the brightly colored carafes and Eva’s red vase had been the only spots of color in the monochromatic expanse of my office. “The right woman.”

  He returned the flower to its vase. “Go ahead, Cross, rub it in.”

  “I prefer to gloat quietly. Do you have something for me?”

  Approaching my desk, he grinned in a way that told me he loved his job, although I never doubted it. His predatory instincts were nearly as highly developed as my own.

  “The Morgan deal is coming together nicely.” Adjusting his tailored slacks, he settled into one of the two chairs facing my desk. His style was slightly flashier than mine but couldn’t be faulted. “We’ve ironed out the bigger points. Still finessing some clauses, but we should be ready to proceed by next week.”

  “Good.”

  “You are a man of few words.” Casually, he asked, “You up for getting together this weekend?”

  I shook my head. “Eva may want to go out. If so, I’ll try to talk her out of it.”

  Arash laughed. “I gotta tell you, I expected you to settle down at some point—we all do, eventually—but I thought I’d have some warning.”

  “So did I.” Which wasn’t quite the truth. I never expected to share my life with anyone. I’d never denied that my past shadowed my present, but I saw no need to share that history with anyone before Eva. It couldn’t be changed, so why rehash it?

  Standing, I walked to one of the two floor-to-ceiling walls of windows framing my office and took in the urban splendor sprawling beyond the glass.

  I hadn’t known Eva was out there, had been afraid to even dream of finding the one person in the world who would accept and love every facet of me.

  How was it possible that I’d found her here, in Manhattan, at the very building I’d had built against sound advice and at great risk? Too expensive, they’d said, and unnecessary. But I’d needed the Cross name to be memorable and mentioned in a different way. My father had dragged our name through the mud; I’d lifted it to the heights of the most relevant city in the world.

  “You showed no sign at all you were leaning that way,” Arash said behind me. “If I remember correctly, you tagged two women when we blew out Cinco de Mayo, and a few weeks later you’re telling me to draft an insane prenup.”

  I surveyed the city, taking a rare moment to appreciate the hawk’s-eye view afforded me by the height and position of my office in the Crossfire Building. “When have you known me to delay sealing a deal?”

  “It’s one thing to expand your portfolio, another to reboot your life overnight.” He chuckled. “So what are your plans, then? Breaking in the new beach house?”

  “An excellent idea.” Taking my wife back to the Outer Banks was my goal. Having her all to myself had been heaven. I was happiest when I was alone with her. She revitalized me, made me anticipate living in a way I never had before.

  I’d built my empire with the past in mind. Now, thanks to her, I would continue to build it for our future.

  My desk phone flashed. It was Scott, on line one. I pressed the button, and his voice came through the speaker. “Corinne Giroux’s at reception. She says she needs just a few minutes to drop off something for you. Because it’s private, she wants to give it to you personally.”

  “Of course she does,” Arash chimed in. “Maybe it’s more flowers.”

  I shot him a look. “Wrong woman.”

  “If only my wrong women looked like Corinne.”

  “Keep thinking that while you head up to reception to get whatever it is she has.”

  His brows shot up. “Really? Ouch.”

  “She wants to talk, she can talk to my attorney.”

  He pushed to his feet and headed out. “Got it, boss.”

  I glanced at the clock. Quarter to five. “I’m sure you heard that, Scott, but to be clear, Madani will handle.”

  “Yes, Mr. Cross.”

  Through the glass wall separating my office from the rest of the floor, I watched Arash round the corner on his way to reception, and then I mentally brushed the whole thing aside. Eva would be with me shortly, the very thing I’d been waiting for since the workday started.

  But of course, it couldn’t be that easy.

  A flash of crimson in the corner of my eye just a few moments later had me looking back out at the work floor and seeing Corinne marching toward my office with Arash hot on her heels. Her chin lifted when our eyes met. Her tight smile widened, transforming her from a beautiful woman to a stunning one. I could admire her the way I would admire anything except Eva—objectively, dispassionately.

  Now happily married, I could fully grasp what a horrible mistake it would have been to marry Corinne. It was unfortunate for all of us that she refused to see it.

  I stood and rounded my desk. The look I swept over both Arash and Scott called them off from any further action. If Corinne wanted to deal with me directly, I’d give her one last opportunity to do the right thing.

  She glided into my office on red stilettos. The strapless dress she wore was the same hue as the shoes and showed off both her long legs and pale skin. She wore her hair down, the black strands sliding around her bare shoulders. She was the polar opposite of my wife and a mirror image of every other woman who’d passed through my life.

  “Gideon. Surely you can spare a few minutes for an old friend?”

  Leaning back into my desk, I crossed my arms. “And extend the courtesy of not calling security. Make it quick, Corinne.”

  She smiled, but her eyes, the color of aquamarines, were sad.

  She had a small red box tucked under her arm. When she reached me, Corinne offered it to me.

  “What is this?” I asked, without reaching for it.

  “These are the photos that will appear in the book.”

  My brow arched. I found myself unfolding and accepting the box, driven by curiosity. It hadn’t been too long ago that we’d been together, but I scarcely remembered the details. What I had were impressions, big moments, and regret. I’d been so young, with a dangerous lack of self-awareness.

  Corinne set her purse on my desk, moving in a way that brushed her arm against mine. Wary, I reached over and hit the button that controlled the opacity of the glass wall.

  If she wanted to put on a show, I’d make sure she didn’t have an audience.

  Taking the lid off the box, I was confronted with a photo of Corinne and me entangled in front of a bonfire. Her head was nestled in the crook of my shoulder, her face tilted up so I could press a kiss to her lips.

  The memory assailed me immediately. We’d taken a day trip to a friend’s house in the Hamptons. The weather had been cool, fall giving way to winter.

  In the picture we looked happy and in love, and in a way, I suppose we were. But I’d refused the invitation to spend the night, despite Corinne’s obvious disappointment. With my nightmares, I couldn’t sleep beside her. And I coul
dn’t fuck her, though I knew that was what she wanted, because the hotel room I reserved for that purpose was miles away.

  So many hangups. So many lies and evasions.

  I took a deep breath and let the past go. “Eva and I were married last month.”

  She stiffened.

  Setting the box down on the desktop, I reached for my smartphone and showed her the picture wallpapering my screen—Eva and I sharing the kiss that sealed our vows.

  Turning her head, Corinne looked away. Then she reached into the box, flipping through the top few photos to pull out one of us at the beach.

  I was standing waist deep in the surf. Corinne was twined around me from the front, her legs wrapped around my waist, her arms draped over my shoulders and her hands in my hair. Her head was tossed back on a laugh, her joy radiating from the image. I gripped her fiercely, my face upturned to watch her. There was gratitude there and wonder. Affection. Desire. Strangers would see it and think it was love.

  Which was Corinne’s goal. I denied that I ever loved anyone before Eva, which was no less than the truth. Corinne was determined to prove me wrong in the most public way possible.

  Leaning over, she looked at the picture, then at me. Her expectation was tangible, as if some monumental epiphany was supposed to strike me. She toyed with her necklace and I realized it was one I’d given her, a small gold heart on a simple chain.

  For fuck’s sake. I didn’t even remember who took the damn photo or where we were at the time, and it didn’t matter.

  “What do you expect these photos to prove, Corinne? We dated. We ended. You married, and now I have. There’s nothing left.”

  “Then why are you getting so upset? You’re not indifferent, Gideon.”

  “No, I’m irritated. These only make me appreciate what I have with Eva more. And knowing that they’ll hurt her sure as hell doesn’t make me feel sentimental about the past. This is our final good-bye, Corinne.” I held her gaze, making sure she saw my resolve. “If you come back here, security won’t let you through.”

  “I won’t be back. You’ll have to—”

  Scott beeped through and I picked up the phone. “Yes?”