Tread softly now, Beah.“And why would you want to resist him?”
Keely looked at a point past Beah’s shoulder. When she returned her attention to Beah’s face, she looked rueful. “We’ve been sleeping together for a while. I keep telling him it’s just good sex. He keeps insisting it’s more and that I am too stubborn to admit he’s right. He’s put this ridiculous rule in place... Crap, I can’t believe I am telling you this.”
Beah leaned forward. “If you stop now, I swear I’ll slap you. What rule?”
Keely blushed. “If I want sex, I have to date him first. He’s not putting out until I’ve bought him dinner and spent some time emotionally engaging with him.”
Beah slapped her hand against her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Oh, she really wanted to make a comment about tables and the turning thereof...
“I didn’t think he was the kind of man to pass up an opporunity to have no-strings sex. What is he doing?” Keely demanded.
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Beah lied, convinced Keely was A) not ready to hear Dare Seymour was obviously head-over-heels in love with her and B) not ready to face the life-changing realization she might be head-over-heels in love with him, too. They needed to work it out themselves; Beah didn’t want to spoil their fun.
“The nerve of the man,” Beah stated, silently laughing.
Keely tipped her glass at her, frowning. “Why do I think you are laughing at me?”
Beah placed her hand on her chest and tried to look innocent. “Not me.”
“Pffft.” Keely drained her glass. She looked at her watch and winced. “I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry.”
It appeared that changing her plans was no longer on the agenda. Okay then. Beah grinned, knowing Keely was going to have a long, lovely night ahead of her, especially if she bought Dare dinner. “Okay. I’m going to head over to Murphy’s. I need to talk to my bosses about your auction.”
Keely pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I still feel like Isabel’s turning in her grave at us selling her beloved collection.”
“The dead are dead, Keels. It’s up to the living to live.” Beah knew this; she lived it every day. “And the money you raise is going to Isabel’s foundation. That’s a very good thing.”
Beah stood up and drained the last of the champagne from her glass. “I’m going to freshen up. And you need to get ready for your date with your hot lawyer.”
Keely hopped off her chair and pinched Beah’s side. “You are enjoying this a bit too much, Bee.”
Beah grinned. “But remember, just because you buy a guy dinner, he’s not obligated to sleep with you.”
“I hate you so much right now,” Keely said, picking up the box of chocolates and holding them to her chest. “I’m confiscating these because you’re being snarky.”
Beah laughed, kissed her on the cheek and left. While she enjoyed watching Keely flail around in relationship confusion, she had no intention of doing it herself.
Then why did the thought of seeing Finn again cause the butterflies in her stomach to take flight?
It was nearly six by the time Beah walked into the lobby of Murphy International. The receptionist, someone Beah didn’t recognize, was packing her bag to leave and when Beah showed her Murphy International identification badge, she was told Finn was in his basement office, a sprawling space he’d had remodeled shortly after he joined Murphy’s straight out of college.
Beah placed her thumb on the panel to the lift that would take her to the secure areas of the company, including the storeroom where multimillions of dollars’ worth of art was housed. It still bemused Beah that the Murphys trusted her as they did and, yeah, she felt guilty about her plans to leave them.
She made good money with them, very good money, but leaving Murphy’s to join Michael wasn’t about the money. She wanted the freedom to make her own decisions, to see whether she could cut it on her own in this hard, secretive world of trading art and priceless antiques.
When she left Murphy’s, she would finally feel totally independent, answering to no one. Only then would she know if she would sink or swim. It was the ultimate test of her ability to stand on her own two feet.
To show herself she didn’t need a father. Or a husband. A man. It was a way to keep busy, and hopefully, a new challenge would satisfy her restless spirit, the part of her that was always looking for something else, something more...
Something to fill the holes in her life she didn’t like admitting she had.
Her life hadn’t turned out the way she’d planned. She’d thought she would be a mom by now, happily married, settled. Still working, naturally, but easily switching among being a wife, a mom and a businesswoman. Yeah, her life was nothing like that. And now she couldn’t imagine being immersed in a family, purely because she now understood, on a fundamental level, that people left when one needed them the most. The three people she’d loved the most had all left her—at different times and in different ways—but no matter whether they’d wanted to or not, they’d still left.
She’d never put herself in that position again. Ever.
And no matter how sexy her ex-husband was, how much she desired him, she would never be fool enough to expect more from him than he could deliver. Besides, she didn’t need anything from him; her life was good. She felt fulfilled.
Didn’t she?