Private Sessions

How was it possible such an attractive woman suddenly emerged unappealing? Despite the low-cut, curve-hugging long red dress she wore, her white-blond hair floating around her smooth shoulders, he wanted to look everywhere but at her.

His gaze fell to her full breasts. Correction: he wanted to look everywhere but into her pleading, hopeful face.

She instinctively crossed her arms, impeding his view.

“Sex is all I have to give you.” Caleb slowly turned, considering her reaction from beneath his brows. “I told you that from the beginning.”

He’d seen this coming since earlier that evening, when his limo had stopped at her downtown apartment to pick her up for the charity ball they’d attended.

Actually, if he were honest, he’d seen this coming since the day they’d first met.

It gave him no pleasure to know that he’d been spot-on when it came to the timeline he’d imagined when he’d met the pretty socialite six months ago. Around about month three, she’d started talking exclusivity. Which hadn’t been a problem, considering it was in his cautious nature to stick to one sexual partner at a time. Month four brought talk of combining households, a conversation he’d artfully avoided.

And tonight, a week before the end of month six, she had launched her plan for even more.

“I’ve never lied to you, Cissy,” he told her now. “You knew the score from the beginning.”

“But things change. People change.”

He shook his head. “Not me. Never me.”

Pain crumpled her face, an emotion that left him unmoved.

He wondered if she’d say the words countless others had said before her and call him a heartless bastard.

If she did, she’d be right. He’d been raised by a single mother, never knowing his father although the man had always been nearby, present without being a presence. While Caleb had never wanted for anything materially … well, one therapist he’d dated had suggested he’d been stunted emotionally by his upbringing.

He’d been a bastard child within a socio-economic class that still frowned heavily on such things. And his peers had never let him forget it.

That’s where the heartless part entered in.

Oh, Cissy might want more now, but in a week, maybe two, she’d be thankful she hadn’t been successful in her efforts. Out there somewhere was a man who would improve her standing; not detract from it.

He walked to the bar and poured another finger into his glass, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Is marriage anywhere in the cards for us?” Cissy asked quietly.

He inwardly winced.

Once, just once, he’d like to be proven wrong. He’d like to date a woman who was unpredictable. Someone who would surprise him. Someone who’d enjoy whatever moments they could spend together without planning, scheming, plotting for something more.

Someone who wouldn’t want something he was incapable of giving.

He shook his head. “No.”

He heard her moving around. Imagined her picking up her wrap. Checking inside her purse. Perhaps getting a tissue with which to wipe her nose. Then stalking toward the front door.

“Well, then, I guess this is goodbye.” Her voice was half accusatory, half hopeful.

He nodded again without turning. “Goodbye, Cissy.”

Silence. Long moments later the door closed behind her. Caleb downed the whiskey, tapping his fingers against the expensive crystal. Shame. He’d liked Cissy. She’d been nice to have around. Nice to have in his bed.

He sighed and then headed for his home office and the only thing that never asked him for anything more, that never complained or questioned or demanded, or failed to hold his fascination: work.

1

THE MORE THINGS CHANGED, the more they stayed the same.

Bryna Metaxas weighed the old axiom, feeling exasperated by her job, by the current stagnancy of her love life—or, rather, the lack of one at all—and frustrated by everything in general.

She sat in her small office at the old lumber mill where Metaxas Limited was located in Earnest, Washington, blind to the view of the lush, pine-covered hills visible through the window behind her. She was too busy trying not to think about the weekly Tuesday meeting she’d attended that morning where she’d been marginalized yet again. She couldn’t help wondering why her older cousin Troy included her if he wasn’t going to have her do anything more substantial than take notes and follow up on minor details. She was half-surprised that he hadn’t asked her to serve coffee to the dozen attendees while they brainstormed ideas on where to go now that the deal they’d been working on with Greek billionaire Manolis Philippidis had fallen through.

Fallen through. Now, that was a print-ready description for what had happened. Disaster would be more fitting.

Bryna drew in a deep breath. How long had she been working at the company? Nearly two years. And while every six months she was given a positive review and her salary was increased incrementally, she was doing basically the same mundane tasks she had done since the day she hired on.

At any other company she would have quit long ago. But this was a family operation … and she was part of the family.

Besides, as a resident of Earnest, she had a vested interest in seeing the plan succeed for the good of the community. Hell, she’d minored in green energy at university and had a better working knowledge of the emerging technology than either of her cousins.

Bryna sighed and pushed her straight black hair back from her face. On her desk sat three different versions of a proposal—variants on the original she’d put together months ago, but had never seen the top of her cousin’s in-box. A proposal she’d thought stood a chance when the Philippidis debacle happened. But, no. If anything, Troy was even less interested in looking at her ideas. No matter how many bricks walls he continually ran into.

Ultimately, she’d decided she’d have to fly solo.

It was just after eleven and she’d been at the old family mill offices since six, moths fluttering their wings against the walls of her stomach at the thought of going this alone. If some of that wild flapping was also associated with the very attractive person she’d decided to approach first … well, she wasn’t admitting to it, beyond allowing that it had been a while since she’d enjoyed male attention … and this particular hot, single male not only appeared skilled in that specific area, he was renowned for it.

At any rate, if her plan worked the way she hoped, she’d be a major player in the business rather than the second fiddle to which she’d been relegated.

Of course, if her cousins Troy and his younger brother Ari found out what she was up to, they’d probably fire her sorry butt on the spot, family ties be damned.

She heard Troy’s voice in the hall outside her door. Bryna quickly put another file on top of the proposals and picked up a pen, pretending interest in the routine accounting job she’d been given to do the day before.

“Hey, Bry,” Troy said, leaning against the doorjamb the way he always did.

Everything that the gossips said about both of her cousins was true. They were powerful and impossibly good-looking, walking, talking Greek gods, a double whammy to any single female within grinning distance.

Of course, Ari was no longer on the market. And Troy …

“You look like shit,” she said.

And he did. It was the height of summer and he looked pale as a ghost. And tired beyond what any amount of sleep could cure.

The reason for that was closely tied into Ari’s change in bachelor status. A month ago the two brothers had traveled to Greece, not so much for the Philippidis wedding, but to close the deal with the wealthy groom that would put the company on a fast track. And save Earnest, the old mill town that they all called home that had recently chalked up a twenty-five percent unemployment rate, the highest in its hundred-year history.

Needless to say, the deal hadn’t gone through. Not through any fault of Troy’s. Rather, Ari’s infatuation with the bride had resulted in the collapse of not only the deal, but contributed to the downward spiral of what was left of the company itself.

And that broke Bryna’s heart. Metaxas Limited was a true family business. Troy … well, what would he do without the company his grandfather and then father built? He lived, ate and breathed ML. The cash flow reflected his blood flow.