So Darius had a hand in this, too? I suppose that explains why he knew I had started working for Holt and how Micah had found out I’m Darius’s half-sister. A lump forms in my throat, but it’s not necessarily a bad lump. It’s one of those life-changing epiphany kind of lumps.
Micah risked things for me. Big things. Financial things that I can’t imagine him ever risking, like using his own personal money instead of Holt’s, all because he gave me his word that he would save Richardson. While I know Micah won’t lose money on this venture, because he’s too business smart for that, he’s still taking a risk…for me.
“It’s an amazing thing he did, isn’t it?” Anderson remarks.
Now I’m reading Anderson’s expression perfectly. He cares for Micah—a great deal, it seems—and he showed me this for one very good reason: so I’ll see Micah, not how the world paints him, not as the billionaire, not as the playboy, but as the man. The one who risked things for me when he didn’t have to. The man who wants me there with him tonight. The man who deserves a girlfriend who’s proud to be photographed next to him. “It is amazing, yes.”
Anderson gives a gentle smile. “It’s such a shame that the tabloids don’t focus on stories such as this one or Holt’s Hope, don’t you think?” Then he strides away, leaving me lost in my thoughts.
Yeah, it is a shame. I feel so foolish, so selfish, because I’m doing exactly what I wouldn’t want Micah to do to me. I’m not being there for him when he needs me to be. Determined to correct my error, I reach for my phone from the back pocket of my slacks, scroll my contacts, and then hit Call.
One ring later, Micah’s gravelly voice slides across me in its usual warm sensual way. “This is a wonderful surprise.”
“Guess where I’m standing?” I ask.
“Not naked in front of me; therefore, wherever you are is totally unacceptable.”
I snort a laugh. “I’m standing in Holt’s Homes.”
“Ah…are you?” He pauses, then curiosity fills his voice. “What do you think of my new venture?”
I glance around at the cubicles, seeing Sandy, whose husband died this year, and Jacob, whose daughter has cancer. “Right now, I’m feeling so happy I could damn near explode. It couldn’t be more perfect.”
“Good.” His voice softens, tenderly. “That’s good.”
“You know, though, as I was standing here, I got to thinking about tonight.” He stays silent, so I add, “I’ve changed my mind about the gala. What time will you be picking me up?”
His hesitation is long enough I’m wondering if we’ve been disconnected.
Then, “You don’t have to come with me.”
“I want to.”
Another pause. “Be ready at 6 P.M.” Then his voice became deeper. “Oh, and Allie?”
“Yeah?”
“Wear something sexy.”
Micah
“Mr. Bennett here to see you, sir.”
I turn away from the boat gliding down the San Francisco Bay, seeing the butler of the house, Edward. A gentleman of fifty years, he’s standing near the French doors leading to the mansion’s living room. I don’t have the relationship with Edward that I have with Levi’s father, but I trust him. He is a safe—everything stays locked up tight. I remind myself how much I respect that about him, when he finishes, “He’s waiting for you in the sitting room.”
“Thank you, Edward.”
Allie’s on my mind when I follow him inside the house and watch him scurry off to the kitchen, no doubt to check in on the other staff. The soles of my shoes scuff against the dark hardwood floor as I’m making my way down the long hallway, wishing I could be anywhere but here. I’m not a fan of coming home, which is why I stay at the Phoenix. There are too many memories here.
My skin crawls in the way it usually does when I’m here, as I enter the sitting room on the left, my gaze instantly connecting with the photo of my mother, resting on the small table near the bay window. A dark-haired beauty with de
licate, fine features and eyes matching the color of mine, my mother was an elegant and lovely woman. In the photo, she’s sitting in the very same antique French chair that Darius is now occupying.
He rises from his seat, offering his hand. “Good afternoon, Micah.”
I return his handshake. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“I’ll admit that I was surprised to receive your phone call,” Darius begins, lowering to his seat. “What’s going on?”