Tell Me You Want Me by Willow Winters

Adrian

“The penthouse in Tribeca is five million,” I speak clearly, standing in the office and imagining how this office in the high-rise could easily double for temporary housing. I’ll take the meetings in the conference room. “I’ll sell the furniture with it, that should bring it up another million.”

“Business shouldn’t affect your personal—”

“We tallied the numbers with the other assets,” I repeat to my father. My financial advisor is on the phone as well. He’s seen the contract, he knows what deals went down. More importantly, he has a tally of every investment I have. I simply can’t lose the majority of them. If I sell now, I’ll lose so much more than the current value. There is only so much that can give. “I’ll find somewhere cheaper, and that’s far better than losing investments or paying the interest.”

My financial manager, Sean, speaks through the line, “I agree and there are plenty of other markets on the upswing. It could be beneficial in the long run.”

“There’s no reason not to sell the list and dissolve the—” My father attempts to chime in. If I didn’t respect him as much as I do, I’d tell him to fuck off. To get off the line. To get out of my business. But as it stands, he’s my father. He’s just as involved in this deal as he has been in the others. He’s my mentor and I know he means well. That list and Suzette’s departments are nonnegotiable.

I told her I would protect her. And I meant it.

“Yes, there is.”

“I saw the deals, Adrian. Why the hell are you doing this? I didn’t raise you to—”

“Because she’ll hate me,” I bite out, forming a fist as my muscles coil. “This is a business call. If you cannot remain professional, I will take the call alone as I would have preferred to do.”

“Who is she?”

“It’s personal. I’m keeping that investment and I want you to respect that.”

“It’s worth you losing your home?”

“It’s worth me losing everything.” The amount of rage is equal to my desperation. Chaos swarms in my blood. “I cannot lose her.”

There’s silence on the line before an awkward cough from my advisor. Sean states the numbers we’ve gone over a hundred times in the last six hours.

“If she would hate you for it, then she’s not the one for you.” My father’s tone is somber and before I can say anything else, there’s a click on the line.

“Adrian?” Sean questions, “Are you still there?”

“Yes, it was my father who left.” There’s a hollowness in my chest that fills with a mix of emotions. “Where were we?” I say and then sit back down in the chair.

The money, the power—none of it means anything if I can’t have her.

Keeping Sean on speaker, I text my father: She doesn’t know any of this and I don’t want her to. I love her and you will too when you meet her.

I know it’s the right thing to do by her. I can make this work. I can have it all.

I text him again before he responds. Maybe hate was strong. She would be upset, but she wouldn’t hate me. I want to do everything I can for her. You need to trust me on this.

All she needs is this chance. I believe in her and I’ll make the money back. I’ll be a man worthy of a woman like her.

I just don’t know how to tell her or if I even should.

“If we could touch base about the article today,” my advisor starts, “it does not seem to be as telling as we were led to believe.” I was given a heads-up yesterday that Wyatt’s dealing would make headlines. It’s a scandal in the making given how the property deal went down.

“I was able to pull some strings,” I tell him.

“Have you gotten any pushback from investors? Any concerned calls?”

“A few.” My brow pinches at remembering the early calls and emails this morning, wanting to know whether or not the deals would still be going through. “As far as I know, everyone is satisfied.”

“Excellent. I know this isn’t ideal, but this is manageable. I do, however, recommend not signing any contracts of that magnitude until the lawyers have approved. I spoke with Carly and she told me she had not finished negotiations.”

I can only nod, remembering how light I felt, signing that contract … with Suzette on my mind. With Wyatt’s approval, about her. Coming to terms with how I’d fallen for her.

“I was distracted,” I admit to him.

“Whatever it was, see to it that this doesn’t happen again. There’s only so much we can do and next time it may not be salvageable.”

The knock at my door is hesitant and then Andrea opens it without waiting for a response. It comes at the same time that a text comes through.

“Not now,” I tell Andrea who nods and closes the door softly.

I thought it would be my father, but it’s Suzette.

I want you. I love you for you. I don’t need your money, and I wouldn’t think less of you if you weren’t in the position you’re in.

As if this day could get any harder. I know she loves me. And I’m going to prove to her that I love her back. Words aren’t enough.

“It will be tight for a few months unless something breaks. We can file for a few extensions. It will get you through and we can keep it discreet, but you do not have leverage to spend for the time being.”

“I understand.” A heat tingles the back of my neck. This position I’m in is less than ideal. I can’t blame Wyatt. The blame squarely falls on my shoulders.

Sean twists the knife even more. “For all intents and purposes, you are broke.”

“I know, Sean. I know what it means.”

There’s another knock on my door, more forceful than before.

“Mr. Bradford,” Andrea speaks up and her tone makes it evident that whatever it is, it needs to be said now.

“I’ll call you back shortly,” I tell Sean and hang up before he can respond as Andrea walks in. The door closes behind her. Dressed in loose gray pants and a billowy white top, she’s nothing but professional.

“What is it?” I question.

“I made a mistake,” she tells me, not taking the seat she stands behind.

“We all do,” I say, attempting to ease any worries she has, but her expression doesn’t appear to reflect that. There’s not a worry line in sight.

“The error in the contract with Mr. Wyatt Patton’s—” she starts.

I still, my blood going cold. “What about it? What error?”

“I sent in half of the contract signed, but the second half … Somehow,” she says and gestures in the air, a shrug rolling from her shoulders, “I faxed it over unsigned.” Her lips quirk up at the end. As if she knows.

Of course she does.

“Andrea.” My head falls into my hands for only a moment, the relief waning as if this isn’t real. “Could you repeat that, please.” I swallow thickly, praying that what I heard her say is exactly what she did say.

“From what I can tell,” she tells me, now taking the seat slowly, “I must have had some questions and somehow I mixed up the paperwork.”

“I have to call my lawyer,” I tell her, still in a state of disbelief, my hands nearly trembling. If she’s serious, if she didn’t send it … It’s twenty million that she saved me.

“I thought you might say that.” She pats the desk before standing. “She distracts you, but like I’ve always told you, I’ve got your back.”

“I could kiss you—”

“Please don’t,” she says jokingly.

“I don’t know how to repay you,” I tell her softly before she can leave, still not truly believing. Not until I see it myself and not until it’s confirmed.