If I Only Knew Page 8

I sigh. “Why do you think it has anything to do with what you look like?”

  “Because those blue eyes are roaming all over my body.”

  Busted.

  “Fine,” I acquiesce. “I was staring because everyone thinks you’re hot, but I wasn’t sure. I was trying to understand what all the hype is about.”

  His jaw falls open as if what I said is completely insane. “I’m sorry, you’re what?”

  “I’m trying to understand the hype,” I say unapologetically. “I was just putting the pieces together.”

  “On whether or not I’m?”

  “Hot.”

  Milo stares at me, his green eyes darkening. “And?”

  “And what?”

  He groans, running his hand down his face. “And what have you concluded?”

  He’s really not going to like this, but I’ve already inserted my foot in my mouth enough, might as well swallow it now.

  “I’m still not sure.”

  “Unbelievable. I’m offended,” he huffs.

  Shit.

  I’m his boss and I basically told him I was checking him out. Way to go, Danielle. Why don’t you just slap yourself with a sexual harassment suit while you’re at it. I need to fix this.

  “I’m sorry, that was out of line. As your boss, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  He scoffs. “I’m not offended because you’re my boss!”

  “I just know I have a position of power over you. There’s the whole “me too” movement and I wasn’t trying to make you think . . .”

  “That you’re bloody insane? I already do thanks to this. How do you not know if you find me sexually attractive?”

  “Okay,” I say slowly. “I can see that this is a touchy subject for you. I don’t want you to think that since I’m your boss, I was trying to take advantage of that.”

  Milo’s brows raise and he stops speaking.

  Well, if I didn’t screw myself the first time, I sure did now, pointing out my major professionalism fail.

  “Milo?” I finally say after a few minutes of awkward silence.

  “I’ve been told by many that I’m irresistible.”

  “And humble?”

  “No, never that, but I can’t believe you’re questioning whether or not I’m attractive.”

  I shrug. “Do you consider yourself hot?”

  “Damn right I do,” he stands, pulling his jacket off.

  “Okay, keep your clothes on!”

  “I’m merely showing you what you need to see,” he says while unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Milo!” I laugh.

  He sits back down, still not happy. “I have never had a woman be unsure if I’m good looking. What is wrong with you?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you!”

  This wasn’t going the way I’d hoped. “Maybe it’s you,” I point out. “Do you think I’m attractive?”

  “Yes,” he answers without a pause.

  “Oh. Well. Okay. Thank you?”

  He thinks I’m attractive. I don’t know how I feel about that, but I’m all warm on the inside. It’s been a long time since a man has said that to me. Even my husband was never overly affectionate. I know he loved me, but I wondered if he thought I aged well or if I was still beautiful to him.

  Our lives were crazy and we didn’t make time for those things.

  “You’re welcome. Did you seriously doubt that?” he asks.

  “Doesn’t every woman?”

  “Yes, and you’re all fucking bonkers!”

  I don’t really like his tone, but I’m going to let it go since I’m sure I broke about ten company rules in this conversation.

  “Okay, so tell me,” he says with frustration in his voice. “What has you so mystified?”

  There’s no way out of this. I’m going to have to be honest.

  I lean back and cross my arms. “What it is about you that people like? I think you’re a nice guy, despite trying to act otherwise, but my friends and daughter seem to think you’re some kind of catch.”

  Milo’s eyes go wide. “I think it’s rather obvious.”

  Of course he would say that. He’s in love with himself. “It’s definitely not your personality.”

  “I’m a catch, Danielle. I’m rich, sexy, fantastic in bed, and I—”

  “Have a very modest opinion of yourself,” I finish his sentence.

  Milo puts the folder to the side and shakes his head. “You’re missing the bigger picture.”

  “Enlighten me, then.”

  I can’t wait to hear this. Here I was, thinking about the nice things he did yesterday and he’s about to remind me why he’s the ass Callum says he is.

  “Apart from the obvious, I’m exactly what women want. I don’t play games or make you believe I want something I don’t.”

  “Women don’t want that!”

  “Maybe not American women.”

  Idiot.

  “Because your wife tells you . . . oh, that’s right, you don’t have one of those?”

  Milo glares at me. “By choice, sweetheart. I don’t want a wife or love or anything to do with that rubbish. I’m quite happy with my life.”

  “That’s what they all say.”

  I believe that despite Milo’s proclamations, in the core of each human is a desire to be loved above all else. It’s why we seek companionship as soon as we start to detach from our parents. I wanted, more than anything, to be loved so deeply that it gave me life.

  Then I realized that shit only exists in stories. I got a husband who loved me, and kids, the house, and then I remembered that being loved is only part of a bigger picture.

  We also needed to work, take care of things, and ride out the rough patches of living together in tandem. And then it ended abruptly in the most painful way possible.

  However, I would do it all over again because in those few moments when I was Peter’s entire existence, they carried me through the hard times.

  Milo rises, lifting the folder he placed down. “I mean what I say. I’ve seen the downside of marriage, and I want no part of it. However, when I find that girl who knocks me on my arse and makes it unbearable to be away from her, she’ll know I chose her. I chose to love her against my will to be single. That’s the girl I’m looking for, but I don’t think she exists.”

  I rest my arms on the desk and grin. “I can’t wait to see her knock you on your arse.” I use his word because British words are so much cooler than American ones.

  He chuckles. “I can’t either.”

  I see it in his eyes. Right now, he’s no more immune to love than the rest of us. He’s just gotten good at pretending.

  “You’re not going!” I yell at Ava as she’s throwing her shoes on.

  “You can’t make me stay home. I’ll get a ride to the courthouse on my own then!”

  I move closer, gripping her arm. “Goddamn it! You can’t sit through it. You can’t!”

  She can’t see the photos of her father lying in his blood. I know she thinks she’s old enough to tackle the world, but she has no idea. Court isn’t fun. It’s hell and it’s sucking the life out of me.

  I refused to go today. I had to meet with an inspector and I didn’t think it was a good idea to reschedule. Of course, Milo brought up the fact that I have him as my extremely overqualified assistant and I was making excuses, but . . . he can suck it.

  Now I’m arguing because Ava thinks she has a right to be there.

  “Don’t tell me what I can’t do, Mother! I’m a lot stronger than you think. I’m not a child.”

  “That’s exactly what you are,” I say as I slump down on the couch. “You are a child, Ava. You’re my child and listening to that . . . it’s not what your father would’ve wanted.”

  “I need to know,” she admits.

  How do I keep her from this? Is trying to protect her even the right thing? I look to the ceiling, praying for some help here.

  When no one answers, I decide to dig deeper to see what the
real reason she wants to be there is.

  “What do you think you’re going to hear that’s going to help you?” I ask.

  She moves towards me. “I don’t know, but at least I can see the man who took him from us. Parker will never know Daddy. I want the man responsible to see my face.”

  I realize how much she’s like her father right now. Peter had the same fire inside of him. He wanted answers, the truth, and to fight the injustices in the world. I wanted to be happy. Ignorance was bliss for me.

  “Do you think he really cares?” I toss back. “Because I can promise you, he doesn’t. Seeing your face isn’t going to suddenly make him ashamed of what he did to us. It won’t make things right. It won’t bring Daddy back. It will do nothing to him and everything to you.”

  She sits on the couch beside me. “I’m not a little girl anymore, Mom.”

  Oh, how wrong she is. At sixteen, she’s nowhere close to knowing the hard realities that adulthood offers. I would give anything to be young and dumb again. It was so much easier.

  I also understand the want she has on some level. She lost her father and this is something that might help bring her closure.

  “I know you’re not,” I say. “I can’t let you go to the trial, but if you agree to not fight me on this, then you can come to the reading of the verdict. I want you to skip the gruesome parts, but I think you should be there for the closing arguments.”

  Ava leaps toward me, wrapping her arms around my shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I won’t fight you.”

  I return her hug, trying to remember the last time she embraced me. We’ve been on opposing sides of everything for so long.

  She releases too soon, and I go to say something, but the doorbell rings.

  “I got it!” she yells and rushes over, pulling the door open before I can get to my feet. “Well, if it isn’t double-oh-sexy,” she twirls her hair.

  “Jailbait,” the British accent I spent a good part of my day sparing with replies. “You need a proper spanking.”

  “Want to give it to me?” she asks.

  Oh, dear God. Milo’s jaw goes slack even though he walked right into that one.

  “Go to your room, Ava,” I order and she frowns.

  “But he’s so pretty.”

  “Go.” I point.

  “At least your daughter has eyes that work,” he replies.

  “Yes, my sixteen-year-old thinks you’re pretty, you should relish in that.”

  Milo ignores me and pulls a folder out. “The city is being run by a bunch of pricks who sent this back. You’re getting a lot of pushback from the existing neighborhood.”

  It blows my mind how much people will resist change. This project is to clean up a deteriorating apartment building and revitalize the area. We plan to put a park in for the kids, new basketball hoops because the old ones are broken, and little stores to help with jobs. All of these things are good, but you’d think we’re chopping down a forest to put in a parking lot.

  It’s crazy.

  It’s also making me look like a fool to Callum. I pushed him on this land. I practically sold him on the idea of how wonderful it would be. Now, he’s fielding all kinds of letters, complaints, and issues with the permits.

  “I’m going to have to come up with an idea.”

  “I should say so,” Milo agrees with condescending smugness.

  Then I remember he works for me. “Well, assistant, since you’re my bitch and all, I think you could really shine in this area.”

  “Your bitch?”

  “That’s what Callum called you.” I grin. “I think it’s time we put that woman magnet personality and good looks to the test.”

  This is going to be so much fun.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Danielle

  “I’ll get it!” Parker yells as the doorbell rings.

  “Shit!” I grumble as Ava stands in front of me with a makeup brush.

  “Mouth, Mother.”

  “Yeah, like you don’t say shit when I’m not around?”

  “Oh, I say a lot that you wouldn’t be happy with,” Ava informs me.

  “Why did I even ask,” I mutter.

  “Mom!” Parker yells. “Milo is here!”

  I look at Ava who is smiling at me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Are we done yet? I don’t trust Milo out there with Parker.”

  Ava rolls her eyes. “Parker can handle him. He’ll talk him to sleep. No one can be mean to that kid, he’s the best.”

  I laugh because she’s not wrong. Ava may be a raging bitch to me, but when it comes to her brother, she’s completely different. She’s always been protective towards him. Now that her father’s not here, she sometimes seems to think she’s another parent instead of a sister, but he loves her and doesn’t mind. Parker is the one thing Ava cares about more than anything.

  I’m grateful for that much at least.

  “You’re right.” I fidget in my seat, hating this dress. I feel like no matter which way I move, something is falling out that shouldn’t.

  “Stop moving or your face isn’t going to be perfect for your date.”

  “It is not a date,” I correct.

  This is a business meeting-slash-coercion mission thanks to my assistant. After another three days of following up with the city only to be ignored, Milo asked me to let him off his leash. He explained that he has a connection—that he made in less than a month of living here—in the inspector’s office.

  Last night, I got a call that everything was set. I needed to be dressed to the nines because we had a dinner with the inspector and his girlfriend.

  Milo begged me to trust him and let him work his angle since we tried mine and have come up short.

  Trusting him is a stretch, but I’m tired of being dicked around by this guy and if Milo has the in, I’m willing to take it. However, this is not a date.

  “Whatever. You’re dressed up, have sexy underwear on, and you’re wearing fuck me shoes, it’s a date.”

  “Ava Kristin Bergen,” I hiss. “Don’t use that word around me, and these shoes are the ones you made me wear.”

  “Because they’re hot, Mom. You need to look hot if you’re going to follow Milo’s plan. Now, stop moving so I can fix your face.”

  Fix my face? “What the hell is wrong with my face?”

  Her upper lip rises and she shrugs. “I guess nothing’s wrong with it if you plucked your eyebrows more often and maybe put some makeup on.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “I’m just saying, Mom. You’re getting older and it’s going to be harder to attract a man if you don’t put a little effort in.”

  I slap her leg. “I’m not old. And I don’t want a man.”

  I’m fine being alone. I have my kids, my job, and my friends. There’s nothing a guy is going to bring to my life other than a headache . . . and maybe an orgasm, but I can make that happen on my own.

  “Sure, you’re almost forty.”

  “Yeah, almost, but not yet.”

  Ava rolls her eyes. “Well, when I’m done with you, you’ll look twenty and hopefully you won’t look frumpy.”

  Peter and I used to joke about what we’d do if something happened to one of us, and I always said I would never remarry. Maybe it was because we never wanted to get married in the first place. We loved each other, but we had goals bigger than a wedding ring. I wanted to build an empire in real estate and he was going to be partner.

  Then, I got pregnant and we had to alter that. Well, I did.

  I look at my daughter, the child we didn’t plan for who brought me down this road, and touch her hand. “I know you and I have had our differences, but I want you to know how much I love you, Ava. Thank you for helping me tonight.”

  Ava sighs and for a moment, the walls she’s built around herself come down. “I love you too, Mom. But if you don’t shut up and let me concentrate, you’re going to have contour on the wrong p
art of your face.”

  And then they’re back up.

  “How did you learn all this anyway?” I ask.

  “YouTube.”

  Great. Now I’m really scared.

  I sit in silence as Ava continues to grab things, paint my face, and hmm and haw at her work. I have no idea what I look like, but she’s pleased.

  “Done,” she announces.

  I stand up, and she moves quickly in front of me. “Ava, move.”

  “No! You can’t look. You have to trust me.”

  Yeah, that’s a problem. I don’t trust her. This is the ultimate way she could serve revenge for her grounding.

  “Nope, move.”

  “Mom! Please!” she begs. “I promise, you look gorgeous. Just walk out there, and see what Milo and Parker think. If you don’t look hot, he won’t take you and you know that Parker will say something.”

  She’s right there. Parker still has that childlike honesty that every woman hates. He likes to poke my side and ask why it jiggles. Or when he touches the lines around my eyes and asks why they crinkle like Grandma’s.

  Everyone should have kids, they’re great for self-esteem. Said no one ever.

  “Fine, but if I do this and I look like the bride of Chuckie or something, you’re grounded for an extra month, got it?”

  She nods. “Yup. And if you look gorgeous, I get my phone back tomorrow?”

  Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Not on your life, but nice try.”

  I release a nervous sigh and start to walk, but these shoes are impossible. Peter bought me a pair of Christian Louboutins for our ten-year anniversary. He said I never would’ve bought them myself, so he took care of it. I wore them once, thought my feet were broken, and never wore them again. Plus, I look like a baby giraffe finding its legs when I walk.

  Nicole looks like a runway model. I look like a moron.

  However, they matched the barely-there dress I’m wearing perfectly.

  I’m going to get fired when Callum hears about the fool I’m about to make of myself. There’s not a doubt in my mind. I let Milo rope me into tonight and I’m going to end up paying for it.

  I stumble trying to get out of the bathroom, but Ava grabs my elbow. “Really, Mom?”

  “Listen, the best-case scenario tonight is that I don’t break an ankle.”