Mogul
Page 18
“You’re disgusting.”
He mulls it over, chuckling. “What happened with his marriage? Do you know?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” I fiddle with my coffee cup. “There’s such chemistry between us. It’s unreal.” I frown. “But then he told me his situation, and I said it was over and walked out. I’m jealous, you know? Just thinking that some other woman has rights to him.” But last night he was looking at you with raw possession, Sara. Ugh. Stop it, little voice.
“I don’t want anyone else to have him, but I am definitely not looking forward to something this complex and… complicated. I’m scared he’s working me out of his system in men’s usual ways—maybe even using me to get over the ex or whatever.” I sigh drearily.
“Is it a mutual decision to divorce?”
“I have no idea. I should’ve asked. Instead, I panicked, saw the red flags, and left.”
“Then take it as closure and move on. If not me, have Bryn set you up on a date.”
“I don’t know, Jen—things with Christos are over, and I’m not sure she can move on that easily,” I say. “This time I had a second-night stand. Give me one reason why it wouldn’t feel like closure?” I ask him, confused.
“Easy.” Jensen runs a hand through his perfect hair and leans back against the chair rest. “You want more of the big D.”
“Oh! He has a very nice D and I wouldn’t mind more of it. But it just…” I shake my head, suddenly angry at him. Fucking Ian Ford. “I want him to want me; that’s not typically me. I’m usually dreading that they’ll call again, Jen.”
“Damn, that’s a problem.”
“I know.” I sigh and glance at my watch. “Okay. I need to head to the office. Bryn must be waiting, and there’s something going down with Christos that I’m worried about. I’ll let you know when I know more.”
“Please do. I’m a hairsbreadth away from hunting Christos down and beating him up for hurting her.”
“I know you are. I know you love Bryn.” I kiss the top of his head and take my coffee with me.
“Sara. What about the auditions?” he asks.
“Still waiting for the call. Hoping something else will come up. The more auditions, the better the possibilities, right?”
“Damn right. Break a leg, princess,” he says.
“I already did once!” I yell back, glaring down at my coffee.
I’m about to board the train when I get a text from my saved number at Daniel.
François:
Ian Ford, mademoiselle.
You’re welcome. :)
Trembling, I’m about to text back my thank you when I get a call from Robert.
“Sara, you won’t believe who’s at the hotel right now. He just ordered room service.”
I shuffle onto the train and take a seat, clutching my phone tight as the image of Ian surrounded by office papers comes back to haunt me.
“Until when is his room booked?”
“Only until tomorrow, unfortunately. But he’s back in 1103. His name is Ian—”
“Ford. I know. I just found out.” I exhale. “Thanks, Robert.”
My hand trembles as I end the call and stare down at my phone, wondering what I’m going to do with this little piece of information. He’s in town until tomorrow. When he leaves, will he ever come back? Will I ever see him again? Do I want to?
WORKING MAN
Ian
“Mr. Ford? Did you hear me?”
I pull my thoughts away from last night when I hear my New York assistant at the door. I turn. “I heard you.” Exasperated with myself, I motion for her to set the script revisions on my desk.
I head over and skim the pages, unable to concentrate. We’re producing a documentary on garbage. Glamorous, I know, but trust me, it’s good. I’m proud of our concept.
Can’t say I’m as proud of how things went down yesterday.
My gut roils as I remember the look on Sara’s face when I told her. Her eyes shone with terrible emotions, and I was the cause. I hated myself right then. I thought I was the victim when Cordelia fucked me over. But what am I doing with Sara?
When the door shut behind her, my heart was stampeding, my lungs, my legs, my arms tensing in anticipation.
Because I wanted to chase after her.
I still plan to.
I know how to get her number. My grandmother would never deny me anything. If Sara doesn’t want to see me again, I’ll understand. I’ll at least make it up to her in some way.
I’m wrapping up reading the new script when my cell phone rings and Wahlberg’s name appears on my screen. I lean back in my chair and tap to answer.
“Yeah.”
“I’ve got good news. We’ve had the talk with your accountant like you requested. Threatened to remove your business if he didn’t come forward with the truth. And he’s willing to testify to his affair with your wife.”
“Good. Finally there’s something.” I run my hand along the back of my neck, suddenly tense with the anticipation. I need this circus over with. “Call Cordelia. Let her know the minute details of the situation and tell her my offer for the house and half my money still stands. I just want to get this over with at last.”
“I’ll update you.”
I hang up, almost reluctant to believe that it’s finally coming to an end.
I want to be free of her and the constraints she keeps binding around me. I want her out of my life. I don’t forgive betrayal easily. I surround myself with few people, but those who I keep close mean more to me than anything. I will never forget a betrayal. Nor would I ever betray or lie to one of my own the way she did me.
Pushing that thought away, I jump back to the matter at the forefront of my mind since last night, and I dial my grandmother.
“How’s my girl?” I ask when she answers.
“Oh, Ian.” She giggles. “Am I seeing you for dinner as planned?”
“That’s right.”
“I’m making meatballs, your favorite.”
“I’m salivating already. Listen, Gran. How about you call the dog walker, Sara, so she and I can take Milly out for you tonight?”
“She was coming this afternoon for Milly’s walk. I was planning to cook your meatballs while they were out.”
“Good. Something’s come up at the office and I’ll be free early.”
“Ian Ford!” she chides before I can end the call.
Reluctantly, I raise the phone back up. “What?”
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. I want you to know that I fully, wholeheartedly, very thoroughly… approve.”
I smile, relieved, and run my hand over my jaw. I don’t want her to get her hopes up. I’m still not eager to jump back into a relationship, not after the last one I had. But I crave Sara in a way I haven’t craved anything but work for a long, long time.
I owe it to myself to find out why she has this effect on me.
I will buy myself some time with her, somehow. Some way.
If only Sara thought of me half as positively as my grandmother does, it might even be easy to ask her out for an evening.
Fuck if I haven’t looked forward to a date in a long time.
MRS. FORD
Sara
I’m dog-walking for Mrs. Ford this evening, and I can’t help but dread what I have to say. But there’s really no choice, is there? I can’t risk bumping into him. Not when I’m not certain yet of what there is between us, or if there can even be anything serious between us. I need space and I need to think, and one thing I know for certain is that Ian doesn’t let me think at all. But the fact that I may not see him ever again fucks me up quite a bit. Guest in room 1103. Handsome and almost like some dream, gone before I could hardly remember, but definitely addictive.
He mulls it over, chuckling. “What happened with his marriage? Do you know?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” I fiddle with my coffee cup. “There’s such chemistry between us. It’s unreal.” I frown. “But then he told me his situation, and I said it was over and walked out. I’m jealous, you know? Just thinking that some other woman has rights to him.” But last night he was looking at you with raw possession, Sara. Ugh. Stop it, little voice.
“I don’t want anyone else to have him, but I am definitely not looking forward to something this complex and… complicated. I’m scared he’s working me out of his system in men’s usual ways—maybe even using me to get over the ex or whatever.” I sigh drearily.
“Is it a mutual decision to divorce?”
“I have no idea. I should’ve asked. Instead, I panicked, saw the red flags, and left.”
“Then take it as closure and move on. If not me, have Bryn set you up on a date.”
“I don’t know, Jen—things with Christos are over, and I’m not sure she can move on that easily,” I say. “This time I had a second-night stand. Give me one reason why it wouldn’t feel like closure?” I ask him, confused.
“Easy.” Jensen runs a hand through his perfect hair and leans back against the chair rest. “You want more of the big D.”
“Oh! He has a very nice D and I wouldn’t mind more of it. But it just…” I shake my head, suddenly angry at him. Fucking Ian Ford. “I want him to want me; that’s not typically me. I’m usually dreading that they’ll call again, Jen.”
“Damn, that’s a problem.”
“I know.” I sigh and glance at my watch. “Okay. I need to head to the office. Bryn must be waiting, and there’s something going down with Christos that I’m worried about. I’ll let you know when I know more.”
“Please do. I’m a hairsbreadth away from hunting Christos down and beating him up for hurting her.”
“I know you are. I know you love Bryn.” I kiss the top of his head and take my coffee with me.
“Sara. What about the auditions?” he asks.
“Still waiting for the call. Hoping something else will come up. The more auditions, the better the possibilities, right?”
“Damn right. Break a leg, princess,” he says.
“I already did once!” I yell back, glaring down at my coffee.
I’m about to board the train when I get a text from my saved number at Daniel.
François:
Ian Ford, mademoiselle.
You’re welcome. :)
Trembling, I’m about to text back my thank you when I get a call from Robert.
“Sara, you won’t believe who’s at the hotel right now. He just ordered room service.”
I shuffle onto the train and take a seat, clutching my phone tight as the image of Ian surrounded by office papers comes back to haunt me.
“Until when is his room booked?”
“Only until tomorrow, unfortunately. But he’s back in 1103. His name is Ian—”
“Ford. I know. I just found out.” I exhale. “Thanks, Robert.”
My hand trembles as I end the call and stare down at my phone, wondering what I’m going to do with this little piece of information. He’s in town until tomorrow. When he leaves, will he ever come back? Will I ever see him again? Do I want to?
WORKING MAN
Ian
“Mr. Ford? Did you hear me?”
I pull my thoughts away from last night when I hear my New York assistant at the door. I turn. “I heard you.” Exasperated with myself, I motion for her to set the script revisions on my desk.
I head over and skim the pages, unable to concentrate. We’re producing a documentary on garbage. Glamorous, I know, but trust me, it’s good. I’m proud of our concept.
Can’t say I’m as proud of how things went down yesterday.
My gut roils as I remember the look on Sara’s face when I told her. Her eyes shone with terrible emotions, and I was the cause. I hated myself right then. I thought I was the victim when Cordelia fucked me over. But what am I doing with Sara?
When the door shut behind her, my heart was stampeding, my lungs, my legs, my arms tensing in anticipation.
Because I wanted to chase after her.
I still plan to.
I know how to get her number. My grandmother would never deny me anything. If Sara doesn’t want to see me again, I’ll understand. I’ll at least make it up to her in some way.
I’m wrapping up reading the new script when my cell phone rings and Wahlberg’s name appears on my screen. I lean back in my chair and tap to answer.
“Yeah.”
“I’ve got good news. We’ve had the talk with your accountant like you requested. Threatened to remove your business if he didn’t come forward with the truth. And he’s willing to testify to his affair with your wife.”
“Good. Finally there’s something.” I run my hand along the back of my neck, suddenly tense with the anticipation. I need this circus over with. “Call Cordelia. Let her know the minute details of the situation and tell her my offer for the house and half my money still stands. I just want to get this over with at last.”
“I’ll update you.”
I hang up, almost reluctant to believe that it’s finally coming to an end.
I want to be free of her and the constraints she keeps binding around me. I want her out of my life. I don’t forgive betrayal easily. I surround myself with few people, but those who I keep close mean more to me than anything. I will never forget a betrayal. Nor would I ever betray or lie to one of my own the way she did me.
Pushing that thought away, I jump back to the matter at the forefront of my mind since last night, and I dial my grandmother.
“How’s my girl?” I ask when she answers.
“Oh, Ian.” She giggles. “Am I seeing you for dinner as planned?”
“That’s right.”
“I’m making meatballs, your favorite.”
“I’m salivating already. Listen, Gran. How about you call the dog walker, Sara, so she and I can take Milly out for you tonight?”
“She was coming this afternoon for Milly’s walk. I was planning to cook your meatballs while they were out.”
“Good. Something’s come up at the office and I’ll be free early.”
“Ian Ford!” she chides before I can end the call.
Reluctantly, I raise the phone back up. “What?”
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. I want you to know that I fully, wholeheartedly, very thoroughly… approve.”
I smile, relieved, and run my hand over my jaw. I don’t want her to get her hopes up. I’m still not eager to jump back into a relationship, not after the last one I had. But I crave Sara in a way I haven’t craved anything but work for a long, long time.
I owe it to myself to find out why she has this effect on me.
I will buy myself some time with her, somehow. Some way.
If only Sara thought of me half as positively as my grandmother does, it might even be easy to ask her out for an evening.
Fuck if I haven’t looked forward to a date in a long time.
MRS. FORD
Sara
I’m dog-walking for Mrs. Ford this evening, and I can’t help but dread what I have to say. But there’s really no choice, is there? I can’t risk bumping into him. Not when I’m not certain yet of what there is between us, or if there can even be anything serious between us. I need space and I need to think, and one thing I know for certain is that Ian doesn’t let me think at all. But the fact that I may not see him ever again fucks me up quite a bit. Guest in room 1103. Handsome and almost like some dream, gone before I could hardly remember, but definitely addictive.
