The Broken One (Corisi Billionaires, #1)(15)

“We all loved Therese—”

“Don’t, Dad.”

“I worry about you, Sebastian. Nothing that happened was your fault. You made a decision you thought was best for your family. Accidents happen. You didn’t kill your wife.”

Since there was nowhere for the conversation to go, I changed direction. “So I signed the paperwork to purchase the Durham lot. We’ll be moving forward aggressively with that project over the next few months. I’ve been crunching the numbers. The local competition is a chain store. I see a full buyout or bankruptcy in their future. With potential profit even higher than we saw in Maine.”

“You know how many stores I had back in Italy?”

I sighed. Here we go. “One.”

“Exactly. And I was happy. I had your mother, you kids, and homemade wine. That’s all a man needs.”

“Well, I don’t exactly have any of that, do I?” I snapped, regretting the words as soon as I voiced them.

“Because you hold on to the pain, Sebastian. Therese wouldn’t have wanted you to.”

“No one knows what she would have wanted.”

“She loved you, Sebastian. When you love someone, their happiness is where you find your own. You have always been a good son. You were a good husband, but you are an awful widower.”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Thanks. I didn’t know there was a rating system.”

“Was she beautiful, Sebastian?”

“Who?”

“This Heather Ellis.”

“Yes.” Her face was too easy to picture. Big brown eyes. Long, loose curls—perfect for a man to bury his hands in. Her conservative attire paired with bare feet had made it too easy to imagine how she would have looked sprawled across my desk. Losing Therese didn’t mean I was dead from the waist down. I still found women attractive. I just made sure I chose partners who were okay with nothing beyond sex. Heather didn’t come across as a woman who would agree to those terms.

Not to mention, I didn’t date anyone with kids.

No exceptions.

“And her child? How was she?”

“Sweet. They seem like a nice family.”

“Did you get the sense that the woman liked you?”

I remembered the look of outrage on her face right before she’d slammed the door in mine. “I wouldn’t go as far as to say that.”

“That’s a shame. She sounded like someone we would have liked to meet.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but if you have enough intel for Mom, can we talk about something else? Anything else?”





CHAPTER EIGHT



* * *



HEATHER

Midmorning the next day I pushed back my desk chair and stood. I didn’t like what was distracting me from my work, but it was time to admit to myself that the day before was still very much on my mind.

Sebastian had gotten into my head. And not in a good way. I walked to the window of my office and decided to face the issue head-on.

There were certain indisputable truths: I hadn’t had sex in years, and he was gorgeous.

Anything I may or may not have done with him in my dreams last night was due to that, along with the yogurt I shouldn’t have eaten right before I went to bed. Everyone has sex dreams. Dreams like that are normal. Healthy.

I closed my eyes as a particular scenario from mine brought heat to my cheeks. Shaking my head, I chuckled. No way he would actually be that good in bed anyway. God had wasted a perfectly good Adonis face and body on a man with no personality.

I opened my eyes and scanned my office absently while I remembered the way he’d dismissed me, us, as nothing he wanted. That had stung. It still stung.

Breathe. He didn’t hurt me; he’d hurt my pride. There were thousands, millions, of men in the world who probably didn’t find me attractive, and I didn’t care about them. My self-image wasn’t contingent on male approval.

He’s not part of my life. He doesn’t matter. Focus on the good that came from last night. Ava happily slept in her own bed with Wolfie and Wolfina in her arms.

All was back to normal.

My pep talk didn’t improve my mood, so I dug deeper. I didn’t want to brag, but I’d always been my own best psychologist. I had discovered the skill in college when Brenda had suggested that I needed to shed my anger with my parents before it made me just like them. It was probably the deepest thing Brenda had ever said to me, and though she was stoned when she’d said it, it had resonated.

Rather than seeking professional counsel, I read books on choosing happiness and changing mental habits. They taught me to judge everyone less—myself and those around me—to forgive if only for my sake, and to keep my focus on the positive I wanted in my life. The philosophy had served me well in my professional as well as my personal life.

I loved my job. I had a good circle of friends. Ava was my family unit, but I didn’t need more than her, did I?

Four years without sex. Maybe it’s time to let Erica set me up with someone again. Just because I hadn’t liked the ones she’d suggested so far didn’t mean I couldn’t find someone that way.

Or I could use . . . Tinder?

I shuddered. Not my style.

Get a babysitter and sit in a bar until some guy buys me a drink?