The Broken One (Corisi Billionaires, #1)(54)

“Are you okay, Heather?”

The smile she gave me looked forced. “Of course I am.”

I pulled her back into my arms and tipped her face up so our eyes met. “If you want to take it slower, just tell me.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

She studied my face for a moment. “If I had an opinion about something, would you want to hear it?”

“Yes.”

“Even if it was about your business?”

“Just say it, Heather.”

She took a deep breath and said, “Rakesh Bhatt came to see me. He told me about his father and how he’d gone to you, but you hadn’t even considered his request to postpone the start of your construction.”

“Wait, Bhatt came to you?”

“Yes. He heard I knew you. I promised I’d say something to you if I saw you again. I know, it’s not my place to ask this, but maybe if you met with him one more time?”

If there was one thing I hated, it was anyone who tried to use my personal life to affect my business dealings. “Is that why you slept with me? To plead his case?”

I regretted saying it as soon as the words left my mouth. I’d gone to Italy to clear my head about what my role in the company should be, and I hated that I was no longer sure. I couldn’t lead if I couldn’t be decisive. As much as I felt for Bhatt, my duty was to provide for my family.

So, yeah, the takeover was a sore spot for me, but I couldn’t explain why my response had been with something as unlikely as what I’d thrown at her.

She pushed out of my arms. “Yes. That’s exactly what this was. So tell me, did it work?”

I deserved that jab. “Heather—”

“Don’t.” She grabbed her purse off the floor. With that she stormed out of the bedroom.

I was hot on her heels. “It was a stupid thing to say.”

“Yes, it was,” she said between gritted teeth.

She strode to the front door and stepped into her shoes. I followed her, hating that I’d taken something as good as what we’d shared and fucked it up.

“Heather—”

She spun, wagging a finger at me. “I feel for you, I do, but I am not going to be your emotional punching bag while you try to decide what kind of person you are. If you want to be in my life, and I still can’t figure out if you do, I have to know I can trust you to be kind all the time. Not just when things are going your way. Not just when you want something. Ava depends on me. Right now my first priority is her. I don’t know what your priorities are.”

I would have answered her, but that was exactly what I was still figuring out.

She opened the door and walked to where Rob was standing beside my car. Head high, she slid in without looking back.

I wanted to rush down to the car and apologize.

I wanted her to drive off and for this to be over.

Only after the car had disappeared around the corner of the driveway did I turn and slam my fist against the wooden door. Time away from work hadn’t given me the answers I sought.

Time with Heather hadn’t made me a better person.

She was right to keep me out of her life.

I jumped into my own car and drove off, not caring where I was headed, half hoping it led to somewhere I couldn’t come back from—because in some ways that was where I already felt I was.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN



* * *



HEATHER

Walking into Erica’s house to see Ava and Charlotte laughing while Kevin and Tyler crashed cars on a racetrack that was sprawled across the living room floor made me feel a little better. As soon as Ava spotted me, she yelled, “Mom!” and bolted over to hug me.

Life was good.

Confusing and frustrating, but good.

“Having fun?” I asked as I ran my hand over the top of her head and hugged her back.

“You have to see the crashes, Mom. Big crashes. They don’t even care about their toys. It’s awesome,” Ava said.

“Those kinds of cars were made to crash,” I assured her. “They care about their toys as much as you do.”

One car sailed across the room and hit the wall. Well, maybe they cared a little less. “Tyler, be careful, or you’ll break it.”

He frowned. “It’s already broken. I’m trying to fix it.”

Ava left my side to march over and inspect the car. “The wheel is coming off.” She fiddled with it, pushed the bent wheel against a corner of a table, and held the repair up with a grin. “All better. When I grow up I’m going to be a veterinarian of cars.”

“Veterinarians are animal doctors, dummy,” Kevin said.

I was about to tell Kevin that calling anyone names wasn’t nice, when Ava held the car up and said, “Dummy? I fixed it. You know who calls people dummies? Dummies. Say you’re sorry.” She put the car down on the track. It took off.

Yes, indeed, Ava was my daughter.

“Sorry,” Kevin grumbled.

Ava seemed to accept his apology. She settled back onto the couch with Charlotte, and peace returned to the room.

I sat down next to them and in a low voice asked Ava if she should apologize to Kevin as well. “You did call him a name too.”